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#home for sale photographer

walkingdogproductions · 2 months

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In today’s digital age, where the majority of homebuyers start their search online, high-quality photos are not just an option but a necessity for marketing and selling a house in the real estate market. The visual appeal of a listing plays a critical role in attracting potential buyers, making professional photography an invaluable tool in the selling process.

#interior design #interiors #marketing #home #realestate #home for sale #photography #home photography #real estate photography #photographers on tumblr

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tourwizard · 4 months

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Home for Sale - 123 William Street, New York, NY 10038 Virtual Tour: https://www.virtualtourplatform.com/7bb465e0/ For more information call 03322201102

#Home for Sale #New York #Photographer Name

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lilithgreye · 4 months

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Your Future Spouses Job

Due to derivative astrology the 4th house rules over our future spouses career. Here are some possible careers your spouse could have with each 4th house placement. Remember that there can be more interpretations than this, but these are only some examples

Aries 4h: Firefighter, athlete, rapper, race car driver, fighter (example: ufc fighter), cop, military soldier/veteran, er dispatcher, personal trainer/bodybuilder, entrepreneur

Taurus 4h: Chef, accountant, banker, singer, podcaster, sales worker, radio host, fashion designer/stylist, model, botanist, financial manager, financial clerk, food service manager, marketing manager, cashier

Gemini 4h: Writer/journalist/poet, social media influencer, teacher, comedian, podcaster, politician, radio host, public speaker, librarian, videographer, counselor, game designer, tutor, neurologist, driver (examples: door dasher, bus driver, uber driver, etc)

Cancer 4h: Baker, real estate agent, nurse, nanny (example: travel nanny), home/interior designer/architect, marine biologist, carpenter, construction worker, counselor, professional cuddler

Leo 4h: Actor, entertainer, athlete, talent agent/director, event/party planner, theatre teacher, music teacher, hair stylist/barber, concert promoter, any career involving fame

Virgo 4h: Doctor/nurse, nutritionist, vet, comedian, news reporter, interviewer, personal trainer, therapist, lawyer, farmer, librarian, botanist, housekeeper/maid, counselor, tutor, dentist, dermatologist, neurologist, zoologist, social media influencer

Libra 4h: Singer, dancer, model, artist, fashion designer/stylist, wedding planner, makeup artist, lawyer, dermatologist, barber/hair stylist

Scorpio 4h: Detective, cop, psychologist, funeral director, coroner, banker, sex worker (example: stripper), tax preparer, bikini waxer, forensic pathologist, criminal psychologist

Sagittarius 4h: Teacher, comedian, pilot, flight attendant, astrologer, news reporter, casting agent, religious career (example: pastor), lawyer, librarian, philosopher, photographer, interpreter/translator, tutor, tour guide

Capricorn 4h: Business owner/ceo, film director, publicist, archeologist, politician, entrepreneur, historian, financial manager, carpenter, construction worker, chiropractor, dentist, sales agent

Aquarius 4h: Engineer, scientist, rapper, social media influencer, film producer, inventor, dj, humanitarian, politician, graphic designer, entrepreneur, videographer, game designer, electrician

Pisces 4h: Singer/musician, actor, astrologer, psychic, hypnotist, astronomer, artist, model, lifeguard, marine biologist, creative writer, lyricist, any career involving fame

#future spouse astrology #predictive astrology #4th house #derivative astrology #birth chart #astrology #astrology blog #astrology community #astro community #astrology chart #astrology tutorial

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song-witch · 1 year

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Chin Up, Buttercup

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 3,084

Warnings: Fluff! Southern Mommy Wanda. More fluff.

Summary: It's your big break, but the one person you want to support you isn't there when you need her.

A/N: I wrote this in like 24 hours, but yolo.

Part Two Part Three

“I’m so proud of you, darlin’.” The woman’s voice filled the calmness surrounding the two of you with a certain… delicacy that could only be made by her. It had a certain drawl to it, words weighed down by the sticky sweetness of the southern accent that clung thickly to her honey filled words. Everything about the moment was soft, something Wanda gave you endlessly, especially after the hours upon hours you had spent on your work.

It had taken you years to get to this point. To be able to finally put it up on display for the rest of the world, except for one. Wanda. You hadn’t stopped talking about it for weeks. Had it marked on every calendar the two of you shared, and even then some more.

And yet, she had missed it. Had gotten scheduled on some bullshit meeting that could get her fired from the company. You had told her multiple times that you could support the two of you, that your book would break record sales and neither of you would ever have to work again. Of course, that was wishful thinking, but it’s what had gotten you this far, isn’t it?

Wanda had left early that morning, earlier than normal, with a kiss to your head, a silent promise that she’d be home that night. It felt like a silent apology that she couldn’t make it to your first booktalk.

It was okay, though. You were a big girl who didn’t need Wanda at your side for everything you did. You tried to tell yourself that for the rest of the day, that you could do it all by yourself, even if it pulled heavily at your heart.

You did your best to pull through your day. You ate breakfast alone, debating on tearing the sticky note Wanda had left you a message on like other days she didn’t have time to eat with you before. It felt far too literal, though. Like that post it note was your heart and every little tear made it hurt even more. You settled for crumpling it up, tossing it across the empty dining table, a hard reminder of how utterly lonely you truly were.

You sat alone when you were getting your makeup done, your outfit picked out. You would blame the tears in your eyes on your makeup. Wanda was the one who dolled you up. But she had work. For hours you told yourself you could do it. You could stand up in front of a crowd and talk about the book you had spent all of your adult and most of your teen years writing, pouring every ounce of love, hatred and everything in between in it. It didn’t feel real, though.

Since you had met her, you had envisioned her next to you at this moment. Instead, you stood by yourself with a podium in front of you, the small beaded friendship bracelet twisted between your fingers. Wanda had randomly bought the kit for you one day and you had insisted she make one with you. They were matching, the only difference being your names on the piece of string.

“Thank you all again for coming.” Despite your earlier feelings of loneliness, you smiled brightly into the microphone, more than aware of the amount of photographers and press there.

Gingerly closing the book, you stepped away from the podium, scooping the item into your arms. Agatha pulled you towards a secluded corner, your team surrounding you. Right next to Wanda, she had been your number one supporter since you brought the rough draft to her. She signed you within a few hours, taking on the role as your editor and publicist like it was nothing.

“Good job out there, toots.” The brunette clapped your back, a toothy smile brightening her features. You smiled up at her, hardly able to hear her over the roar of your own heart beating along with the crowd of people ready to have their books signed by you. “Say, you keep wooing crowds like that and you’re gonna sell out in no time, kid.”

“Really?” The hope in your voice brought forth a new youthfulness to you, like you were a kid again. In a way, you were. You had wanted this since you had started writing, and here you were, your first book published and with a second well on its way.

“With that cute tush of yours? Everyone will be wanting more, sweets.” Agatha threw an over exaggerated wink at you as she laughed, using the hand that hadn’t left your shoulder as a support of sorts. Your smile faltered just slightly, a blush coloring your cheeks. It was something Wanda liked to tease you about, how easily it was to get you riled up. You would deny it forever, even though you knew she was right. “Speaking of everyone, where’s that ragamuffin of yours?”

The smile on your face almost immediately sank. You had been so busy the entire day that you hadn't had time to think about Wanda, let alone the fact that she wasn’t there. Agatha hardly noticed your change in demeanor, too focused on the buzz around you. “She… she had work.”

“Oh, that’s too bad, toots. I’m always here if you need a plus one.” Rather than comforting you, the woman shimmied beside you, yet another wink thrown your way. You had learned that she was like that sometimes. Way too much to handle. So you smiled and nodded, trying not to let the thought that your girlfriend wouldn’t be there to support you.

“Only kidding! Well, unless you two say otherwise. You know where to call me!” Agatha stepped away from her, her hand finally pulling away from your shoulder. It was the first time you felt like you could actually breathe during the entire interaction. You loved the woman, truly, but she could be a lot. “Go enjoy your party, hot stuff, you deserve it!”

And with that, the woman left, presumably to find the bar, leaving you to be pushed around by the rest of your team. You knew enough about the events of the day that you’d be signing books for the next hour, if not longer. You were grateful for all the time Wanda had spent practicing your signature, a nice, loopy design that made you feel proud of yourself. It was all you could think about as you were swept over to the long table full of your book, pushed down into the singular chair at the table, a line that was longer than it should be waiting for your signature.

᠃ ⚘᠂ ⚘ ˚ ⚘ ᠂ ⚘ ᠃

By the hour and a half mark, your hand was cramping, not used to writing with a sharpie for this long. The line felt like it had barely shrunken, still too long to see the end of. It was thrilling and disheartening at the same time; the faster you could sign all of these books and do whatever you were told, the faster you could get home to see Wanda. That had it’s own anxieties attached to it, but whether she could be here or not wouldn’t change how excited you were to see her. Sure, it sucked that she couldn’t be here. Really sucked, but you would be able to see her in a few hours and tell her all about your day. It would have to suffice.

Another hour passed before you could see the last ten or so people, the feeling of relief strong. You had been at it for over two hours now and, while you were beyond flattered and amazed to have this many people read your book, you were exhausted to say the least.

You wanted nothing more than to go home and curl up in your lovers arms, but you knew it would be at least a few more hours before that was even plausible. Faces began to meld together as the line continued to shorten, each person looking a little more like the next. As the last person approached, you breathed a sigh of relief, not even looking up as a book was slid between your hands.

“Thank you for coming.” You gave the person, a woman based on the high rise jeans and blouse they were wearing from where your eyes didn’t travel up their body, a tired smile just barely tugging at your lips.

“What? No sugar for me, sweetheart?” The words themselves made you feel gross, though the voice was recognizable. Something about the soft timber of it was reminiscent, like a fond memory you couldn’t let go of.

You were sure your confusion was evident all over your face, what with the way your eyebrows pulled together and your hand stopped moving, though you couldn’t care less if the signature was ruined or not. Your eyes traveled up the, yes, woman’s body, a familiar map of beauty stood in front of you.

“Wanda?” Your breath caught in your throat at the sight of her.

She had really gone all out, dressed as nice as possible for your big event. She wore high waisted black dress pants, paired with a deep purple blouse with even darker flowers printed across it. She was wearing your favorite wedges of hers. Her dark, faded out roots were pulled up in a half up, half down style, the long locks flowing down her back. It took everything in you to not let the tears that had filled your eyes to spill, pushing the book and marker away from you as you used the table to stand.

“Hi, pumpkin.” Wanda’s southern accent was the best thing you had heard all day, instantly warming you like nothing else had.

You all but flung yourself into her arms, uncaring of how hard you had hit the table with your thigh. Wanda would tell you to be more careful about it later, would kiss it better, you knew. You didn’t care about anything other than being in her arms, though.

“Wanda.” You all but whimpered into her neck where you had almost immediately pushed your face. She smelled the same as always, an earthy undertone that paved way to the light lavender you knew was her favorite perfume, even though she hardly used it. It fully encapsulated you, making the tears in your eyes burn even more as her arms wrapped around you.

“It’s good to see you too, sweetheart.” Wanda laughed heartily, dropping a kiss to the top of your head. Her hands ran up and down your back, a gentle strength to them that had you wanting more, to be held even closer. The hand holding your bracelet, her right hand, settled at your waist, while the other settled at the base of your head, softly carding through her hair.

She had held you like this far too many times to count, but you still melted in her hold, your breath hitching. The woman held you against her as you continued to fight off tears, taking in the sweet scent that enveloped you, as if the rest of the world didn’t exist.

Time was non-existent to you once again as she stood holding you, humming softly. The only thing that you knew was that it was nowhere near enough time when she pulled back, holding you at an arm’s length with a beaming smile. She traced her left hand up to your face, cupping your cheek as she searched your eyes. You couldn’t help but smile back, biting your lip as it continued to tremble. Wanda shook her head, tsking under breath as she dropped her hand down to grasp your chin, tugging your lip out from between your teeth.

“You did so good up there, sugar.” Wanda pressed a kiss against your cheek, easily turning your head with the finger on your chin to press another to your opposite cheek. The nudish brown pigment of her lipstick just barely transferred onto your skin, something the woman would take a wet thumb to in mere moments. She kissed your lips chastely before doing so, giving you barely enough time to process what was happening before she was licking her thumb and rubbing at the lip marks.

“B-but… you…” You did your best to protest, shaking your head from side to side as you tried to escape her grasp. None of it made sense. She would’ve just gotten off of work maybe half an hour ago and would’ve had to book it through heavy rush hour traffic to get to your talk. There’s no way she could’ve seen you on the podium, let alone giving your speech.

“I what, hun? Use your big girl words now.” The brunette fixed you with a stern look as she stopped scrubbing at your cheek, tipping your head up. You couldn’t help but stare at her. The nude lip she had brought out the green in her eyes, the bright sun shining through the open windows forming something akin to a halo around her. She was gorgeous. Something straight out of one of your stories. It helped that the main character’s love interest had more than a few things in common with the woman.

“You… you were at work.” Your head cocked to the side just slightly, something you had definitely picked up from the woman, eyebrows furrowing. You pulled at your bracelet, the elastic snapping at your skin with a nice popping noise as the beads rattled. Wanda tsked, shaking her head as she grabbed your left wrist, pity written all over her face.

“Oh my, precious. I wasn’t actually at work. I was tryin’ to surprise you.” Her lips turned downwards, bringing your wrist up to her mouth with a kiss. It was obvious she wasn’t pitying you because you had snapped yourself with your bracelet, but rather because she knew how worried you must’ve been all day. The bracelet issue just happened to be a part of it.

“And what did I tell you would happen if you kept snappin’ that bracelet?” Her tone was anything but mean, if not more questioning than condescending.

The words had you easily blushing, tilting your head down as if to hide it. “That I wouldn’t get it back until you say so.” Your right hand hung loose at your side, left still grasped by the woman. You knew her eyes would be full of sorrow if you looked up, instead keeping your eyes down as you scuffed the ball of your foot against the tile. “‘M sorry.”

“Then why do you keep doin’ it, love bug? It hurts mommy when your hurt yourself.” Wanda’s voice was as sorrowful as you knew her eyes were, a tone of hurt overflowing her words.

You couldn’t help but look up anyways, your breath hitching at the sight of glossy eyes and a frown. It wasn’t often that she got upset with you in public, yet something about the silly bracelet you wore every day had made her tear up. The sight made tears come to your own eyes, your frown mimicking hers.

“I’m sorry, I’m trying!” You pleaded softly, watching as she snaked her finger up your wrist, easily interlacing your fingers. It was hard resisting the urge to kiss her, rocking back and forth just slightly on the balls of your feet. You hadn’t meant to upset her, hadn't even realized you were fiddling with the elastic until she had said something about it.

“It’s okay, pumpkin. I know you’re tryin’ and I am so, so proud of you.” Wanda’s free hand came up to hold your cheek, smiling softly at you as her eyes roamed your body, finally taking you all in. She hadn’t seen you since the night before, unless the way you slept curled up against her this morning counted, and had been dying to see you for hours, but had held off in hopes of surprising you.

“My baby girl.” Despite the fact that you had both been moments away from crying, a fresh shade of red covered your face, a heat protruding off of your cheeks as the woman pinched it with one hand.

“Wanda.” You groaned, suddenly aware of the fact that you were very much still in public. Your body twisted with you as you glanced around the room, thankful to see that no one was paying you any attention. Which was funny, seeing as how it was your booktalk.

That being said, you could feel a pair of eyes on you that certainly weren’t Wanda’s, spinning in the woman’s arms once again until you saw your editor. She was looking at the two of you with something you couldn’t detect. Jealousy? Disdain? Whatever it was, Agatha sent you a smirk and a wink as soon as you made eye contact before turning away from you.

You turned back to Wanda, slotting yourself under her chin once more. “When can we go home?” You asked in a small voice, uncaring if she could hear you or not. Of course she could though, her lips smacking quietly together.

“Whenever you want, buttercup.” Wanda could tell something was wrong, the way her arms wrapped around you even tighter than before was enough for you to know. You took a deep breath, frantically running your hands through her long hair. It was curled, tighter than usual, but not terrible. You felt weird all of a sudden, like your editor hated you and the entire room was shrinking.

“Can… Is now okay?” You asked a little louder. Wanda nodded, only pulling away enough to lift your chin up enough to meet her eyes.

“O-okay, sweet pea. We can leave right now, that’s what you want?” The woman phrased it like a question, her voice soft if not a little confused. You had been so happy to see her just moments ago, but now wanted to go home. Sure, she knew you weren’t the biggest fan of crowds, she herself wasn’t either, but she thought you would’ve wanted to at least enjoy the party before you left.

Whatever it was, though, she was more than willing to take you home, leaving you with a kiss to let your team know you were leaving before leading you out to her car, buckling you in before taking her spot in the drivers side. She took your hand in hers, the letters of your names on your bracelets rubbing against each other as she drove off.

#jane's fics #wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x you #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x y/n #wanda maximoff imagine #mommy wanda maximoff #southern mommy wanda maximoff #potentialy jealous agatha #part one

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humansofnewyork · 8 months

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(10/54) “Mitra loved anything beautiful. She kept countless notebooks. And on every page she’d paste something beautiful: a flower, a feather, a line from a poem. One time we went to a large antique shop, and the owner challenged us to choose the most expensive items in the shop. Mitra looked around the store and chose two that nobody else had noticed. The owner was shocked. He announced that those were the only two that were not for sale. She had a genius for beauty. It was one of her greatest gifts. But her greatest gift by far, was her memory. Mitra could memorize an entire poem after hearing it a single time. Her favorite was Hafez: The Prince of Romance. She’d memorized two hundred of his ghazals. And whenever she found a verse that she loved, she’d bring it to me to read. We’d heard our voices many times before in arguments. But it was different when we read poetry. There was a softness, a delicacy. When you’re reading a poem, you must find the 𝘢𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘨. Melody. The instrument is your throat. And the words are the notes. Some you strike suddenly, with a bang. Others you unroll gently, like a bow being slowly pulled across the string of a violin. Every word has life. Every word has its own soul. The word roar has a soul. 𝘒𝘩𝘰𝘳𝘰𝘰𝘴𝘩! And so does the word kiss. 𝘉𝘰𝘰𝘴𝘦𝘩. We were married in the traditional way. It was a small ceremony at the home of Mitra’s father. On the morning of our wedding Mitra and I visited a famous photographer in Tehran. We took a series of photographs standing side-by-side. She was so conscious of her crippled hand, she found a way to hide it in every photo. But she’d never looked so beautiful. When the session was finished, I suggested one final photograph. I could tell the photographer was annoyed, but he agreed. And it’s the photograph that still hangs in our house today. Mitra is sitting on a chair. And I’m down on one knee, looking up at her, holding her hand.”

میترا هر چیز زیبایی را دوست داشت. در دفترچه‌های پُرشُمارش و بر هر برگی از آنها چیزی زیبا می‌چسباند: گُلی، پَری، بیت شعری. روزی میترا و من به عتیقه‌فروشی بزرگی رفتیم - فروشنده ما را به چالش کشید که گران‌ترین‌هایش را شناسایی کنیم. میترا نگاهی به پیرامون انداخت و به دو قطعه اشاره کرد. صاحب فروشگاه شگفت‌زده گفت که هیچ‌کس تا کنون به آنها توجه نکرده بود. او گفت که این دو تنها چیزهایی هستند که فروشی نیستند. میترا نبوغ ویژه‌ای در زیباشناسی داشت. یکی از بهترین توانایی‌های او بود. ولی برجسته‌ترین توانایی او حافظه‌اش بود. میترا پس از یک بار شنیدن شعر، ‌بسیاری از آنرا به یاد می‌سپرد. عاشق شعر بود. تنها زمینه‌ای که بر آن توافق داشتیم. شاعر مورد علاقه‌‌اش حافظ بود: شاهزاده‌ی عاشقانه‌ها. میترا بیش از دویست غزل او را از بر داشت. برخی را که دلپسندش بود به من می‌داد تا بخوانم. باور داشت که من آهنگ درست شعر را پیدا می‌کنم. صدای همدیگر را در بگومگوهامان بسیار می‌شنیدیم. ولی هنگام شعر ‌خواندن چنان نبود. حالتی از دلپذیری و نرمش. در شعر، حنجره ساز شماست. و واژه‌ها نُت‌هایتان. برخی را ناگهان می‌نوازی - با آوایی بلند. برخی دیگر را به آرامی، مانند کشیدن آرشه بر زه. هر واژه‌ ویژگی خود را دارد. هر واژه‌ را جانی دیگر است. واژه‌ی خروشیدن جانی خروشان دارد! همانگونه که واژه‌ی بوسیدن و بوسه، دلآویزی و آرامشش را! پیوند ما ازدواجی سنتی بود. جشن کوچکی در خانه‌ی پدر میترا. بامداد روز ازدواجمان، به آتلیه‌ی عکاسی پرآوازه‌ای در تهران رفتیم. میترا را هیچگاه به آن زیبایی ندیده بودم. چندین عکس ایستاده در کنار هم گرفتیم. در هر عکسی حالتی را می‌یافت تا دست چپش را پنهان کند. هنگامی که کارمان تمام شد، پیشنهاد عکسی دیگر دادم. عکاس آزرده می‌نمود اما عکس را گرفت. و آن همین است که تا امروز بر دیوار آویزان است. میترا روی صندلی نشسته و من یک زانو بر زمین نهاده، محو تماشای او، دستش را در دست گرفته‌ام

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kiwiana-writes · 3 months

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An AU in which Henry and Alex are exes, also Alex is a rockstar who puts a lot of himself into his songwriting. And there’s a happy ending

...every time I play a game like this you come in with something that desperately wants to be a gamefail. I see you.

ONE: The breakup isn't anybody's fault, and that makes it so much worse. If Henry could blame Alex—if Alex had cheated, if he'd let fame get to his head, if he'd started holding the money he was earning over Henry—it would be a lot easier to move on. The pressure of trying to maintain privacy just got to be too much.

TWO: They don't text. They don't call. Clean break. Sometimes, when it's late and Henry's drunk, he pulls up their text thread and just reads through it. Once or twice he could swear he sees the typing indicator flash up for a moment, but it's always gone before he can figure out if it's just his imagination.

THREE: The first time Henry hears Can't Seem To Shake You he's on his knees in a club bathroom, Alex's voice barely discernible through the walls and over the throbbing bass. He almost thinks he can tune it out, but the start of the chorus knocks him straight through the solar plexus, and he ends up leaving the stranger unsatisfied and pissed off, walking home to try to sober up and with the lyrics circling around in his head: But you tell me I'm good and you laugh when you come, and you kiss the taste of yourself off my tongue

FOUR: The obsession with the subject of Alex's latest album reaches a frenzy most commonly associated with Taylor Swift's discography. There are thinkpieces and Buzzfeed quizzes and deep-dive Twitter threads analysing Alex's body language with every semi-famous person he's ever been photographed with.

(Henry appears in exactly one, but it's enough for him to see a noticeable bump in book sales.)

FIVE: It's Pez who first messages Henry when Storm Your Castle is released on streaming. Henry listens to it fourteen times, crying on the floor of his bedroom, and then he picks up his phone, scrolls down to Alex's contact, and hits Call.

[Send me a potential AU and I’ll tell you five fun facts that would happen in a story.]

#au five fun facts game #ask meme response #tintagel-or-cockleshells #i don't have time for another wip i don't have time for another wip i don't have time for another wip i don't have time for another wip i d #lol remember that time I wrote a popstar au and had actual song instrumentation and lyrics and like a backing track for one song #anyway #fuck

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tourwizard · 4 months

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Home for Sale - 24430 Stone Springs Boulevard, Sterling, VA 20166 Virtual Tour: https://www1.tourwizard.net/24430-stone-springs-boulevard-sterling/ For more information call 03322201102

#Home for Sale #Sterling #Virginia #Photographer Name

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