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nobodyfamousposts · 3 years

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Chloe's Lament Part 2

Next part of Chloe's Lament. Chloe begins to learn of the changes to reality from her Wish.

She will not be happy about this.

____________________

When Chloe woke up, the first thing that struck her was the loud banging sounds from somewhere below her.

The second thing was pain.

“I have a headache!” She called out, laying an arm over her sleep mask-covered eyes. Her butler would hear her and respond accordingly, of course. He always did.

“And get them to stop that racket down there!” She flopped on her bed with a huff, waiting for the help to return with aid.

Really, the things she dealt with!

Normally, her butler would arrive immediately, with painkillers and fruit-infused water being presented to her within a minute.

But to her growing frustration, that minute came and passed.

Then two.

Three…

Not that Chloe was counting.

Eventually, it had been five minutes and there was still no word from the man. And to make matters worse, that damn banging from below was only getting louder and increasing her suffering.

“Ugh! Do I have to do everything myself?!”

She ripped off the sleep mask, only to wince at the level of brightness in the room. She was on the top floor with the best visibility but the windows were supposed to be tinted and covered to prevent this very thing!

Once her vision cleared, several things should have stood out as odd.

But the first thing to attract her notice was the sleep mask she had just removed—some cheapo dime-store brand. She tossed the rag away with a shriek.

“Is this a prank?!” She demanded. “That is not my personalized diamond-studded satin custom made facial mask! Jean? Jean!”

There was a ruckus from below. The sound of something being dropped. Footsteps—loud and fast and getting closer. Then the opening of a door.

“Precious! Is everything okay?”

She sneered at the sound of her father’s voice.

“No! My sleep mask was stolen, it’s too bright, my head is KILLING me and no one is getting me anything to help!”

He looked confused at that. “Are you out of Efferalgan in your bathroom cabinet?”

She gave him a look. Why would she have to get up and go to the bathroom for some painkillers when there should be someone to hand them to her?

He gave her a strange look in response. Like he was confused his daughter would expect someone to do something as simple as bringing her painkillers and water.

And water.

Preferably cherry-infused.

Was that really so much to ask? Or even require asking?

“Just…hang on a moment.” He said and left her her bathroom.

Finally.

With nothing to do but wait, she glanced around, noting that…this was not her room.

Not the one she knew, anyway.

The light that had blinded her before was from a central window overlooking the room that so obtrusively settled on her bed. In addition, there was a skylight placed above a nook set behind her bed, which brought more light into the room.

She vaguely recognized the room. Well, by its floor plan, at least. The layout and decor threw her off though. The furniture and items were clearly cheaper than her usual high end designer brands. But she saw aspects that were suited to her tastes. Minute indications of her own touch in the assortment of objects around her. Yellow and white as the themes. Black cushions and aesthetic.

It was…decent. But so beneath her it was embarrassing! These were cheap models! Practically plastic! The bedsheets were…ugh…cotton of all things! The lamps were dim! She was missing her boudoir! And her shoes! And her jewelry! She didn’t even want to imagine the nightmare that was her closet—it was practically a hole in the wall! There was no way it would fit everything!

“Here you are, dear!” Her father said, returning from her bathroom with a glass of water and a pill in hand.

She fought the grimace.

Was this tap water?

Gross!

By his expectant look, he clearly meant for her to drink it.

With her continuing headache and no better option for fast relief, Chloe reluctantly took the proffered items. She was unable to help the slightest grimace before she downed them both.

“Well, if that’s all, I’ll be getting back to setting up for the morning rush. Come downstairs to the bakery when you’re ready.” He looked almost relieved to be leaving.

Chloe barely took notice now that she had what she needed. Instead, she took to contemplating her situation and her new surroundings.

All the furniture aside, this room looked familiar. Not really well known, because Chloe was sure she had never been in such a place before. But…like she had seen it somewhere…TV maybe?

And her Daddykins was here. That meant…wherever she was, it was apparently expected for her to be here.

But where was here?

The last thing she remembered was…

She closed her eyes, straining to think past the pain.

That’s right! Hawk Moth’s offer! The Bee! She was Miracle Queen! And she had just won! She had Ladybug beaten…

Her fists clenched.

Marinette Dupain-Cheng…

It hit her.

This was just like her room!

She had only seen it a couple of times. Once for sure when Sabrina had snuck into her room per Chloe‘s instructions for blackmail material. She happened to glimpse a picture of the room here or there from other people’s phones of times that they had spent in this room—that she had really cared. It was a small and dingy room that had nothing on her glamorous abode at the hotel, which of course, was superior in every way.

She was vaguely reminded of that one show that Marinette hadn’t stopped talking about which had also apparently shown Marinette‘s room, but Chloe honestly hadn’t been bothered enough to watch it, so she didn’t have that to go on. But with what she did know, it was a safe bet to assume that this was some knockoff of Marinette‘s room.

So why was Chloe here? Why was her dad downstairs?

She… she had made the Wish, hadn’t she?

…

What…is this it?

She turned up her nose at the environment around her, completely unimpressed.

Was this dinky little room with its weird setup and tacky decor what the Wish gave her? Why would she be in any copy of Dupain-Cheng’s room layout anyway?

The Wish should have changed reality, that much was clear. There was no way she would be caught dead in Dupain-Cheng’s room otherwise—much less sleeping there like it was her own room!

…unless…it was her room?

Was it?

She had found some aspects of the room to her taste, but did that mean this was hers?

It would explain why she was there. And why her Daddy had come up. He had mentioned her bathroom earlier, then had gone through the nearby door to get a tablet and water from what she could only assume was the bathroom he had spoken of.

…he had mentioned a bakery.

Eyes wide, she stumbled out of bed and to the window. Sure enough, the school was just across the way. And there was a sign out front.

“Bourgeois Bakery”

Chloe stared.

Suddenly, it clicked. The banging from downstairs. Her Daddy talking about a ‘morning rush’. And to come down to the…

…no way!

This place was a bakery! Her Daddy was operating a bakery!

And given her location, it was the same bakery that Marinette’s parents owned originally!

This…

…wait…

…did this mean she was supposed to be Marinette?

She threw her pillow in a fury.

Stupid Wish! This wasn’t at all what she wanted!

You would think all-powerful Wish-granting artifacts would do it right!

“Where are those kwamis?!” She demanded, jumping out of the bed and looking around for anywhere she would keep such important jewels. “I’m going to give them a piece of my mind!”

She had a boudoir along with the various jewelry pieces kept there ranging among a variety of gold and diamonds—all fakes, much to her disappointment. And not a single Miraculous among them.

She slammed the final drawer in with a curse.

Nothing!

If she had the Miraculous, shouldn’t they still be with her? Do they just disappear after being used?

Ugh! Those things really were useless! Utterly useless!

It was when she stood back to full height that she noticed the monthly calendar. There were the standard holidays, but also a weekly appointment every Friday evening with some ‘Bridgette’. What was that? A spa day?

She shot a glance to her reflection in the mirror and grimaced. She definitely needed one. She could just feel all the oils on her skin!

But more to the point, there was one day circled on the calendar.

‘Start of School’

She grabbed her phone—an older, obsolete model with a glittery but fake casing—and checked the date.

That…

That was today.

It was the first day of school. A…

She checked the date again, and sure enough, it was a year ago!

Had the Wish taken her back in time?

She froze, realization hitting her.

This was the first day of school. The same day as the first akuma attack.

And when Ladybug first appeared.

That meant…she was sent back in time to the day Marinette would become Ladybug.

It was a year in the past. She wasn’t at the hotel. Her room was in a bakery. Her father was working as a baker. She was Marinette now.

That meant…

She giggled, feeling a giddiness rise within her.

Today was the day she becomes Ladybug!

It looks like the Wish did something right, after all!

Chloe grinned, spinning away from the mirror and to her closet.

She had to get ready! She had to prepare the perfect outfit! Something for the day she becomes a hero!

No. THE hero!

She knew how the Ladybug worked. Hell, she knew the akumas to come. With her prior knowledge and skills, she would know how to use the yoyo and how to use the Lucky Charm better than the old Ladybug ever did! She’d have every akuma in the bag!

Hell, maybe she could force the Ladybug kwami to tell her where the Guardian is so she can get the other Miraculous, too! That way, she could have both the Ladybug AND the Bee again.

And her Adrikens would be her partner! To support her! To stay by her side! Just as it should be!

She paused, something niggling at the back of her brain. There was something she was forgetting.

A glance around the room as she wondered

Of course, the full extent of the change and just what that meant didn’t really hit her until she went downstairs and actually saw her father.

The poor man was in the middle of retrieving a pan lined with croissants from the unbearably hot oven, his hair contained in…fishnet? Latex? Whatever the cafeteria cooks wore when she had no choice but to eat from the school’s lunchroom.

Gross! He looked like a lunch lady!

He didn’t seem to notice her, too busy dancing around the kitchen and checking over the…whatever pastries those were and just looking proud of himself.

Daddykins, no. You’re better than this! How could you be reduced to such a state?

He seemed to notice her staring. “Are you feeling better?” He asked, looking concerned.

“Er…yeah.” She replied. She wasn’t, really, but she couldn’t tell him that. He could try to have her stay home and how would she get to see the fruits of her labors from there?

“Ah good!” He said cheerfully. “It is the first day of the new school year, and you certainly want to…” He hesitated, “…start off on the right foot.”

A pause. He looked at her expectantly, but she had no idea what he was getting at.

He shook his head and turned away for a moment to grab a box before coming back and presenting it to her.

Clearly he wanted her to take it, so she sighed and took hold of the box. A peek inside revealed a number of macarons.

For her? Now this was what she was talking about!

“Oh, Daddykins! You shouldn’t have!”

“Yes,” he said with a nod. “I figured it would be a great way to start off the new year by sharing them with your classmates.”

Ugh. Seriously? All happy feelings vanished in an instant and she shot him a petulant look.

“Why should I have to share?” She demanded.

He hesitated.

She glared, tapping her foot in a clear indication of wanting an answer. Or preferably for him to just say they were all hers.

“It’s a new year and a new start.” Andre said, smiling nervously. “Maybe it’s time to just let bygones be bygones?“

It was a stupid question and she sure let him know it. She stared at him flatly, causing him to wilt.

Andre sighed.

“I know you don’t like her, but…” he hesitated. “Please, just try to get along?”

She blinked.

“Her?”

Wait.

Wait…

It suddenly struck her.

If she was Dupain-Cheng now…

That meant Marinette was in her shoes!

She grinned.

Marinette would be her bully! She’d be the rich bitch daughter of the Mayor and loathed by Paris while Chloe would be—

The one everyone rallied around.

The one Adrikens adored.

The one chosen as Ladybug!

She would have it all!

Part of her hoped the other girl would know about the previous reality…just so she could shove it in her face!

“Just take it slow,” he continued, unaware of her true thoughts. “And then you can report about it to Bridgette at your counseling session on Friday.”

Wait—counseling?

Seeing her expression, he held up his hands in a gesture of peace.

“I know you don’t like it, but it was part of the agreement. You need to make a better impression this year, sweetie.”

“What?”

“She’s the daughter of the Mayor. I’m not sure we can take another…” He trailed off before shaking his head and looking at her imploringly. “You understand, right?”

Oh.

She got it!

“Of course, Daddykins!”

Clearly Dupain-Cheng was abusing her influence, just as she thought!

She had to hand it to the girl…a part of her hadn’t been quite convinced that she would go quite that far. But that just proof that Marinette Dupain-Cheng wasn’t so perfect and that even she would be the same as Chloe once in her position!

Chloe knew she would have to bear with the mistreatment for now. No matter how much it would grate her. It would suck to have to have to accept it for any period of time.

Still, it would be worth it! It just meant even more ammunition to use against her once Chloe was Ladybug!

She didn’t even notice the look of concern he gave her or his weak goodbye as she left the bakery with the box in hand. She was too wrapped up in her own thoughts. Particularly her plans.

And what plans they were!

So what if Maribrat had Chloe’s wealth? It wasn’t like she knew the first thing about status or being a symbol. No, Ladybug did that for her and she didn’t even use it right! Not like Chloe would.

She smirked to herself, imagining the future.

Well, as soon as she got the Miraculous, taking the pigtailed down a peg would be the first thing on her list. Maybe a dip in the Seine? Or ‘accidentally’ getting her hit by an akuma or two?

Why limit it to her personally? If Ladybug spoke out against the mayor, who would vote for him? From what she remembered of Marinette’s dad, that oaf had no business being in politics anyway! Then there was the hotel, which would no doubt be a mess with him in charge anyway.

And best of all, she thought with glee, with a word from Paris’s favorite hero, Dupain-Cheng could be implicated as an ally of Hawk Moth.

Who wouldn’t believe it? If Marinette was in Chloe’s place, that meant she had to be a brat despised by Paris. Everyone would likely jump at the excuse to run her out of the city!

It was slightly disappointing that the former Ladybug wouldn’t know why the new Ladybug was so against her or that she had even been replaced, but she didn’t deserve answers anyway.

For once, Chloe was getting everything she wanted. It was like the Universe itself was on her side! Chloe would be the hero with all the Miraculous and status just as she’d always deserved. And everyone would automatically see it and love her while they would already recognize Marinette as the selfish bitch Chloe always knew she was!

It was a win/win for Chloe and all her fans—which was the best kind of win for Chloe.

Sure, it meant she would have to suffer the loss of her basic comforts like a butler, the latest in fashion and accessories, and easy immediate access to a luxury spa for now…but it would be worth it in the long run.

…maybe not the luxury spa. She would kill for the hotel’s oils and masseuse. But she would just have to deal with, ugh, scheduling with a four star locale in the meantime.

It’s for the greatest good, she reminded herself, looking mournfully at her chipped nails.

And besides, she didn’t have to suffer for long.

Today was the first day of school, which signified the first appearance of Ladybug! This was the day she achieved her destiny! Once she became Ladybug, she would be back on top!

So what if her dad was a baker instead of a hotel owner this go around? Who said it had to stay that way? Just as she could use her position to defame the Dupain-Chengs and ruin Marinette, she could endorse the bakery for free publicity. Do special promotions and deals for money. Or even better! She could make the city pay her for her work!

After all, how much was her Miracle Cure worth, really? How much would the city be willing to pay for her to fix the damage caused by akuma fights? It was only what she was owed; the least they could do is compensate her for her time.

Really, it was Marinette’s own fault for not taking advantage while she could. She could’ve been an idol or the city’s star. She could have used the Miraculous to create an army. Hell, Hawk Moth should have been nothing against her! And instead, she just…wasted her potential. On things like loose zoo animals or out of control helicopters, no less!

Chloe wouldn’t make the same mistakes.

And now that Chloe was set to be the city’s hero…

Even if Marinette was rich (for now), it would be nothing compared to what Chloe would have. She would be Paris’s hero! The BEST hero! And unlike that has-been, she at least would use Ladybug’s power and status right!

She didn’t need to be the daughter of the Mayor! Her Mother was still THE Style Queen, Audrey Bourgeois. Adrien Agreste was still her best friend. She was still Chloe Bourgeois, the best thing to happen to Paris! And now as Ladybug, she would still be back on top and ruling Paris in no time!

And it would all start once she got to school.

“Get out of my way!” She exclaimed, shoving some old fart taking his sweet time walking, sending him to the ground and out of her way.

Move aside, peons!

Her destiny awaits!

Back at the intersection, Chloe never noticed the way the elderly gentleman cast her a judging stare from his position on the ground. Or his muttering.

“No, definitely not.”

“Are you okay?” Came a voice.

“Ah, yes!” He replied, accepting the offered hand and taking stock of the girl it belonged to. She was young. In college, likely. “Thank you, young lady!”

“Of course!” She smiled, handing him back his cane. “Do you need help getting home from here? That looked like quite a fall.”

“But don’t you have somewhere to be?” He asked.

“Just school, but I can spare a few minutes if you need…?”

“There is no need for that.” He shook his head. “I will be fine, thank you for your concern.”

Yes, he decided with a smile as he watched her go, this one will do.

_________________

Ugh, walking. Who invented such a thing? She couldn’t wait until she had a personal limo again. This was so not good for her!

Chloe continued plotting as she walked, magnanimously choosing to consider this as part of the reason for revenge instead of its own thing.

And speaking of revenge! Let’s see…

She scrunched her face, trying to remember the events of the first day of school.

There had been that fight with Marinette over her seat. ‘My seat now’, she realized with glee. ‘Which means I’ll be back next to Adrikens!’

Where she should be.

And if she and Dupain-Cheng were now supposed to be switched, that meant ‘the horrible bully Marinette’ would be picking on ‘poor sweet little Chloe’.

She couldn’t wait!

‘Let’s see how you handle being in my shoes, Dupain-Cheng!’

She giggled to herself, ignoring the weirded out looks she was getting from some passing students.

Or the way the other students in general seemed to give her a wide berth.

As they should for the real Queen Bee of this school!

She was already imagining how this was going to go. And with the classroom only a few feet ahead, her vindication was already so close she could taste it!

Except when she finally arrived at the class, it was immediately clear that something wasn’t right.

Dupain-Cheng was there as expected. With her same kiddie pigtails and her pink and grey ensemble with polka-dots—what kind of designer was she anyway?

What wasn’t expected, however, was that Cesaire was already was there as well.

Originally, Cesaire defended Dupain-Cheng and they became friends. If things played out the same, shouldn’t Cesaire be coming in late? Or standing up to Dupain-Cheng here? If anything, they already seemed to be friends.

Unless Cesaire was Dupain-Cheng’s tool like Sabrina had been for her?

It made sense that this new reality would swap more around, she reasoned.

Except…

Chloe frowned. Now that she was actually close enough to the classroom, she could see the classmates gathered into a sort of half circle around Dupain-Cheng and her follower. And as she reached the doorway, she could more clearly hear what they were saying.

“—at the Le Grand Paris.” Marinette said, gesturing to Alya with a smile.

“Wow!”

“So cool!”

“That’s awesome! So you’ve just been staying at the hotel until you can get settled in?”

Alya nodded, smiling. “Yeah. At least for a little while until we could get our own apartment. Mr. Dupain-Cheng was really accommodating. Luckily, we didn’t need it for long before Mom found something. She didn’t want to take advantage of his generosity, but it’s just really amazing that he was willing to offer us room and board just to have Mom as part of his staff!”

Chloe raised a nose in disgust.

Who ever heard of such a thing?! What hotel made any profit letting people stay for free?

“We met when I was cleaning rooms and she offered to help!” Marinette explained brightly.

Chloe nearly gagged.

Cleaned?

Marinette…actually cleaned the hotel?

Why do something that gross?

That’s what the help was for! And Sabrina.

Speaking of, where was she?

Chloe glanced around, but Sabrina was nowhere to be seen amongst the classmates.

Maybe the Wish had done more than switch her with Dupain-Cheng? Maybe Cesaire and Sabrina had been switched as well? So that meant Sabrina should be the new transfer, right?

No wait, that didn’t add up. She had just walked in on Cesaire being introduced.

Sabrina was probably just her best friend, then.

She nodded.

That was good enough, she supposed. At least if she couldn’t have her necessities from the hotel, she still had Sabrina to take care of the more mundane tasks for her.

Unaware of her thoughts, Marinette had continued talking to the others unhindered.

“—said she would be coming to Francios Dupont, and I knew I had to introduce her. She’s new, so be nice.” She instructed, giving a stare to Kim in particular. “Kim.”

The taller boy raised his hands in surrender. “Fine, fine. I’ll give her a week before any challenges.”

Alya raised an eyebrow. “Challenges? Dare I ask?”

Everyone groaned.

“No dares.” Nino begged, covering his face with his hat. “Please. Kim is bad enough every year. I still can’t look at the hotel without remembering what happened last time…”

“Yeah, your dumb dare got us banned from the hotel’s pool for a month!” Alix said, pointing at Kim, who shrugged helplessly.

“Speaking of the hotel!” Marinette cut in, pulling out her tablet. “I convinced my dad to let us do this year’s work study at the hotel.” She tapped her tablet. “I have a little bit of influence over what they’ll choose as assignments, so we can try to come up with roles everyone will like.”

“Hey yeah! That sounds awesome!”

The classmates crowded the desk, chatting excitedly.

“So where will everyone go?”

“Maybe Kim and Max in security? Or Alix and Max in security, so Kim could work the pool area.”

“As a lifeguard?” Kim asked cheerfully. “I’ve done some training, after all.”

Marinette sent him a wry look and pretended to be thinking it over. “Hmm, I don’t know. Maybe as a pool cleaner?”

Kim pouted. “No fair, Mari!”

“Hey, it would do you some good to learn the cleaning process for the pools you use so much.” Mylene said, half jokingly and half pointedly, making Kim lower his head and groan.

Marinette giggled a little. “Well at any rate, I’ve set up a list of all the different jobs at the hotel so people can mark their top preferences. Between all the options, everyone is bound to find something that’ll suit them best.”

She sent Adrien a knowing look. “And of course Adrien will be in the kitchen.”

Adrien beamed at that.

Not that Chloe noticed.

“Kitchen?!” Chloe squawked. “You’re going to make my Adrikens work in a dirty old kitchen?!”

She had known Marinette would be bad, but how dare she punish Adrikens like that? She could just see it now! Her poor Adrikens, forced to slave away in a room meant for servants like…like he was a servant! Where he could get covered in grime and burn his precious skin!

Everyone frowned at her, as if she was the one being ridiculous!

The boy in question raised his hand.

“But I want to—”

“That is a flagrant abuse of power!” Chloe shouted, slamming a hand on the desk. “She’s making Adrikens work like a maid! What if his father hears about this?!”

Adrien wilted in on himself.

“The kitchen isn’t dirty or old.” Marinette said, sounding annoyingly calm with a terseness in her tone that Chloe had heard some service workers use when dealing with particularly difficult customers—though why they used it with her was beyond her. It was as if Marinette was acting like she the reasonable one dealing with an unreasonable customer or something. “They just finished the remodeling three months ago, we clean it regularly, and all of our utensils and equipment are taken good care of.”

“That’s not the point!” Chloe shouted. “How could you use my Adrikens in such a way? Gabriel Agreste would never approve when he hears about this!”

Because he would be hearing about this! Chloe would make sure of it!

“I could just explain to Mr. Agreste that this would be for good publicity.” Marinette suggested. “I’m sure he would allow it.”

She knew it! There were really no lows she wouldn’t go to!

“You’re really pushing this! And you call yourself Adrikens’ friend!” Chloe pointed at Marinette accusingly. “Just because your Daddy’s the Mayor doesn’t mean you can treat people like they’re lesser than you!”

Marinette frowned, looking uncertain as her gaze flickered between the others.

Hah! Even in Chloe’s position, Marinette still wavered easily and she couldn’t hide her insecurities to save her life. It was why she always gave in in the end! Anyone would roll over someone showing such an obvious weakness!

Hell, she may not even need to wait to see her taken down. This was a perfect opportunity to lead everyone in rising up against her tyranny.

After a few seconds, she turned back to face Chloe, no doubt to attack her for challenging her and show her true colors—

“Chloe, are you okay?”

Huh?

“My Dad just runs the Hotel. He isn’t the Mayor.”

What?!

“My Mom is. You met her at your…” She hesitated, sending the others a glance before lowering her voice, “…meeting, remember?”

She had to bite her tongue regarding the ridiculousness of Dupain-Cheng’s mother being the Mayor. Was that woman even a French citizen?

But it was the other part of Marinette’s statement that concerned her. What meeting? What was she even getting at? Why was she trying to be quiet about it.

Nevermind! She’d worry about that later!

“It doesn’t matter!” Chloe shouted, forcing Marinette to back away. “The fact is that you can’t just throw your weight around to get your way and treat people however you like! And I’m not the only one who feels that way!” She exclaimed, turning to the classmates in expectation.

…only to get a number of blank or confused stares in response.

“Um, what are you even talking about?” Alya asked incredulously.

What?

“Yeah, dude! Marinette doesn’t treat anyone that way.” Nino added.

What?

“The only one who pulls that sort of thing is you.” Said Nathaniel bitingly.

Since when does that loser talk?

And also, what?!

“And aren’t you supposed to be leaving Marinette alone?” Alix asked, giving Chloe a pointed look.

What even was that about?

“I thought that was the agreement.” Mylene said quietly.

Seriously?! Was everyone on her side?

They were supposed to be silent! Or judging the Mayor’s brat! That’s what they did with Chloe! Instead, they were jumping to her defense!

“Are you serious?” She demanded. “Like she doesn’t abuse her power and authority to push people around!”

“Of course not!” Marinette insisted. And then to Chloe’s rage, seemed to draw herself up even more, actually looking confident and self assured in a way Chloe herself had never felt in her place. “As the daughter of the mayor, I have to set a good example.”

Ex…

Example?

What even was that?

Unaware of Chloe’s short-circuiting, she continued. “And Chloe, I wouldn’t force anyone to do a role that they don’t want. That’s why I brought the list here for the class to review first.” She gestured to her tablet. “That way everyone has a chance to pick what roles they want and we can avoid the ones no one wants to do. How is that a bad thing?”

It wasn’t, admittedly. But Marinette wasn’t supposed to be the one doing it! That was the problem!

“And who put you in charge?!” Chloe demanded of Marinette. “Why are you deciding where we’ll do the work study? What, are you using the Class Rep position to flaunt your family’s hotel?”

It would make sense. Chloe had been the Class Rep for years originally. If Marinette was her…

Marinette just gave her a strange look.

“No. I’m not Class Rep, remember?”

Chloe balked.

“What?”

“Chloe, did you hit your head?” Marinette asked, sounding worried. She held a hand out in offering. “Do you need to go to the Nurse’s Office?”

Chloe jerked away from the girl’s outreached hand. Why would Dupain-Cheng still be acting…nice?

Clearly she must still be pretending!

“Nevermind that! If you aren’t the Class Rep, then who is?”

“Your benevolent dictator is here!” Came a voice. A familiar voice. The last one Chloe expected.

“Hey, Class Rep.” Marinette said, giving Chloe a pointed look while waving to the person behind her.

Chloe turned slowly. She had to force herself to move. The strain made it feel like her bones were creaking.

Behind her, Sabrina stood tall with a tablet in hand and looking…surprisingly well for a new reality as a lackey of someone other than Chloe. She almost didn’t recognize her.

Chloe stood straight, expecting the standard greeting.

To her shock, Sabrina didn’t even look at her, instead moving past her to…

“Wow, Marinette! Nice jacket!” Sabrina said first thing in greeting as she moved over to the other girl in interest.

Marinette blushed at the praise. “Thanks! My dad got me some new fabric and I was inspired to try this style!” She gave a wink. “Now this is just a test run to see how it works out.”

“It certainly looks comfortable.” Sabrina said in awe.

Were…were they ignoring her?

“I have some of the material left.” Marinette said. “I could make you your own for your birthday if you want?”

Oh gag! Why would anyone want Marinette’s tacky creations instead of the latest in season creation?

And there was Sabrina looking like that was something to be excited about!

Oh no! Without Chloe to guide her, she had lost any sense of fashion! No matter how much fuller her hair was or how she no longer looked like a strong wind could blow her away!

Clearly, her life was a tragedy without Chloe!

“And I checked like you asked.” Marinette continued, unaware of Chloe’s glare. “My Dad said we could do the work study at his hotel.”

“Thank you!” Sabrina cheered. “That’ll be one less thing to worry about.”

“Yeah, we were talking about that when you came in.” Marinette explained.

Chloe glared pointedly at the girl over the way she was blatantly ignoring that they had been in the middle of Chloe calling her out! Seriously, what was the point of getting to tell people off for their flaws if they were going to ignore you and pretend it never happened! Really! You can’t just ignore the truth like that!

“We were discussing what positions everyone wanted.” Mylene said. “Even if we can’t get the exact ones we’d like, there’ll at least be options.”

“Juleka and I can clean the ball room!” Rose exclaimed. “It will give us a chance to check the acoustics of the room. We’ve been wondering about the effects and what to expect if our band ever plays in such an area.“

Nino looked intrigued at that. “Hey, that does sound like a good idea. Maybe sign me up for that as well?” He asked, turning to Marinette before mumbling to himself about the echo effect on his beats.

Marinette gave him a nod before turning back to Rose. “I heard you guys just started, didn’t you?“

Rose nodded, beaming. “It’s so much fun!”

Marinette smiled and marked it down on her list. “Then I’ll suggest that for you.”

She paused for a moment, hesitating in clear unwillingness to continue before giving a strained smile.

“And Chloe...”

“How about trash cleanup?” Alix snarked, giving the girl a dark look.

“Excuse you?!” Chloe shouted in outrage. “Do you know who my daddy is?!”

The looks she was given were completely unimpressed.

“A baker?”

“And not even a good one.”

"Hey, his croissants are all right."

Chloe blanched, remembering that her father wasn’t the mayor in this world.

He wasn’t even rich.

He was just a baker now. A simple ordinary not even very good baker who was barely keeping his head above water trying to maintain his business and manage his teenage daughter.

And that made Chloe…

Nothing.

Her go to tactic now had no power.

But…but Sabrina! She realized in a flash that her minion was apparently the Class Rep! She could have her back her!

But when she spun around to look, the girl had actually just abandoned her and the gathering altogether to sit next to Mylene of all people! Mylene! And they were just…chatting! Since when did those two spend time together! And why wasn’t Sabrina there for her?!

“Chloe!” Came the only voice worth listening to.

Oh, Adrikens! Of course you would always be there for her!

She spun to him in expectation. Because of course her Adrikens would be on her side! Her savior! Her only ally against such cruel tyranny—

But he didn’t look happy. Or in any way amicable to her. “Don’t forget!” He whispered sharply to her. “You’re still on probation! You can’t start another commotion before the first class of the school year has even started!”

Chloe blinked.

Pro…

Probation?

…

Her?!

“How am I on—?!”

It was impossible! She had never had a criminal record! She’d never even committed a crime! Or anything that warranted getting in trouble over!

Regardless of what Ladybug said, since she clearly had it out for her.

“Just leave Marinette alone.” Adrien whispered, turning her away from the rest of the group and…her. “Please.”

She didn’t want to. There were so many questions and so many things she wanted to demand right now. She was very well inclined to make demands regardless, because she didn’t know what was going on and she needed answers.

But it was her Adrikens asking.

And she didn’t have much chance to say anything else as Bustier had chosen that time to arrive.

“Welcome back, everyone!” The woman greeted cheerfully. Her arrival cut off all other discussion as the students made their way to their desks. “I hope everyone had a good break and that we’re all ready to start the new year.”

A chorus of affirmations followed as everyone took their seats.

Everyone except Chloe, who was glancing around the room in confusion.

None of this was right.

She had expected to fight with Marinette over her seat to get to sit behind Adrien, but he was sitting at the back next to Nathaniel. And Marinette was sitting in the mid row on the other side from him, pulling Alya to sit next to her. But if she wasn’t sitting behind Adrien, what was even the point of challenging her for her seat?

…where even was Chloe’s seat?

She would have sad next to Sabrina, but that traitor hadn’t moved from her spot next to Mylene and left no room for Chloe! And nobody else was calling Chloe over—so if someone else had taken Sabrina’s place as her best friend, she had no way of even knowing who it was!

“Chloe,” Bustier called to her, ever so gently. “Your seat is up at the front, remember? As we discussed the last time we met.” She gestured to the bench at the front.

It was across the one Chloe had sat at previously, being the front desk closest to the door. And to her frustration, there was no one sitting with her! How else was she supposed to get her assignments copied? And wasn’t that the seat that loser, Nino, had been put in because he got in trouble? Chloe wasn’t in trouble though!

Adrien’s words about probation hit her, making her wince.

…was she?

She wanted to ask. She wanted to stomp her foot and demand the answers she deserved.

But Bustier was staring at her expectantly. And she could hear some giggles and snickering from behind her the longer she waited. She glanced back to Adrikens, but…he wasn’t even looking at her! He was conversing with Nathaniel over something on his sketchbook!

How could a sketchbook be more important than his best friend?!

With little other choice, Chloe slid into the front desk, blushing furiously in humiliation and trying to ignore everyone behind her.

It didn’t matter.

None of them mattered!

None of this would matter once she got the Miraculous and put Dupain-Cheng in her place! Then everyone would know SHE was the Queen Bee!

She was sure of it!

#ml fic #chloe's lament #chloe bourgeois #marinette dupain cheng #adrien agreste #kwami swap #plagg #be careful what you wish for #chloe is not careful #chloe is a horrible person #miracle queen

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fortisfiliae · 4 years

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Promised Part 11 - Tom Riddle x reader

Summary: In this story, Tom didn’t grow up as an orphan, but with his grandfather and uncle. Reader’s sister got very sick and the Gaunts offer their help. But not without asking for something in return.

Disclaimer: Please be aware that I don’t condone any of this in real life. (GIF is not mine)

Warnings: Arranged marriage, an unholy amount of fluff

Word count: 2.5k

A/n: This chapter is written partially from Tom’s POV and the reader will be addressed in third person. The POV shift starts in the second half, after the divider, just so you know :)

Part 11 - The Earth’s Centre

Starting to brew the antidote for Mors Grano happened to be easier than you had anticipated. The potion’s base was quite similar to any other healing draught, and so was its production. You had decided to begin the laborious process, even though the Banshee tears were missing. According to the recipe, they were the last ingredient to be added, so you still had a lot of time to find them, even if you still didn’t quite know how.

For the first few weeks, there was nothing more to do than letting the Moondew cook and stir it frequently. The cauldron stood in Tom’s room, its content simmering steadily, ready to be examined at any given moment by one of you.

Professor Beery had denied you the bonus points for the N.E.W.T.s after you had told him that the Moly had unfortunately died. Those points were the least of your problems, however.

The plant had, in fact, bloomed beautifully, ready to be added to the potion.

And that was when the difficulties began. As soon as you let the blossoms fall into the cauldron, the potion started to smell. Very strongly. The mixture reacted in a way that wasn’t described in the book and started to produce yellow steam, as well as a sour, headache-inducing scent, which reached beyond the walls of Tom’s room. The fume filled up every last inch of his dorm and even seemed to creep out into the Slytherin common room. Other students had started mentioning the weird smell and even Dippet, who had paid Tom a number of unfortunate surprise visits, started to get suspicious.

You had sent your parents an owl to inform them that you wouldn’t come home during your semester break. They weren’t exactly happy about it; you had never stayed at Hogwarts during the holidays after all. But you had insisted, telling them there was so much studying to do until they finally let go. That wasn’t even a lie. There was a bunch of work to do. Granted, not all of it was related to school, but you still had a lot on your plate.

Tom stayed in Hogwarts for the week as well. You weren’t sure but highly doubted that he had notified his own family about it. And to be fair, they wouldn’t really care about that, would they?

Even though the school was practically empty and only a mere fraction of students stayed along with you, those who did stay complained about the biting smell in all of Slytherin’s dormitories. On Sunday evening you heard that the housekeeper had been sent to seek out the source and Tom was informed that Mr Carpe would start his search the next morning.

So there you were, worrying about what to do, stirring the cauldron for the twentieth time within the last minutes, hoping it would steam less, the more you whisked through it. No matter how hard you concentrated, how many options you took into account, there was nowhere you could possibly drag the cauldron to, where its scent would go unnoticed.

The Potions classroom was off-limits, even though it was much better equipped for the fumes. Slughorn would spend a lot of his time there, to prepare tasks for the upcoming semester. You had even considered taking it home and telling your parents about it. But using the Floo-Network with an item this heavy wasn’t possible, and taking the train with a simmering cauldron seemed ridiculous. Besides that, the antidote still took months to finish, so you would have to take it back to Hogwarts a week later anyway.

Hell, you had even thought about taking that damned kettle out onto the Quidditch pitch or into the forest, so no one would smell it anymore. But you couldn’t leave it out in the open, of course.

The moment you had given up all hope and realised that you couldn’t go on brewing the potion in Tom’s room, or anywhere else, he had told you about another possibility. There was this room on the seventh floor he had discovered in fifth grade. He called it the Come and Go Room and he was positive that no one besides him, not even the teachers, knew of its existence. The room must have been enchanted, according to Tom, and only appeared when you were in dire need.

So the two of you went there the same night, in a cloak and dagger operation, levitating the cauldron behind you. You had covered it with a white sheet so that if someone saw you, they at least wouldn’t know initially what you were doing. The disguise was weak and you knew if Dippet or any other teacher would spot you, you would be screwed.

Luckily none of them was there when you rushed through the halls, aside from Warren O’Connor, a Ravenclaw fifth year, who patrolled on a corridor next to their tower. He was too far away to detect the poorly hidden cauldron and didn’t even seem to look at you after he had recognised Tom.

When you had finally arrived, chest heaving, thoughts rushing from relief and tension, Tom instructed you how to summon the Come and Go Room. You walked past the stone wall three times and imagined, very carefully, what you needed. An airtight room that allowed you to keep on brewing your potion in peace, that no one would be able to find unless you wanted them to. Suddenly, a door appeared. You looked at Tom and he nodded before you took the handle and opened it.

The small room behind the door was, simply put, perfect. Your very own Potions laboratory. Dark and nifty, it offered enough little cabinets to store all the ingredients for the antidote, as well as a worktop to put the cauldron on. Everything looked as if it had been custom made, just for this purpose. Which it was, you had just created it all yourself.

Now that the cauldron was in a safe place Tom felt more at ease and actually thought that the semester break could turn out to be enjoyable. Why did that relax him, though? A question he had asked himself more than once. He didn’t have to care, nor did he have to help his fiancée to save her sister. Then why had he done it?

He didn’t have a logical answer to that question, even though the illogical one seemed to wave at him from the back of his head. He shrugged it off. But there were so many questions of the same kind running through his mind. Why did he care? He had never cared before. For anyone. That girl wouldn’t bring him where he wanted to be just by marrying him. Sure, her family was respected. Of course, they were purebloods, which was why his Grandfather had taken notice of them. But it had never been Tom’s wish to marry her. So why didn’t he mind the thought anymore? The idea of seeing her walking down the aisle had repelled him immensely when he had found out what Marvolo’s plan had been. And now it didn’t. He had gotten used to the idea. It even bugged him to think about the fact that the marriage wouldn’t happen by chance if the antidote was finished soon enough. Then why did he help her?

There was something inside of him, something that he couldn’t just pinpoint yet. Something that made him do the things he had done, even when it had gone against his own benefit. Something that made him care less and less about himself. It must have turned all of his morals upside down, because somehow, and he couldn’t explain why, the most important thing was seeing her happy. He didn’t even know when his priorities had changed. When he had stopped putting himself first. But it had happened. And that irritated him beyond belief.

She had been so easy to dislike. Back then, when they were sitting in her dining room alone. When she had stared at him, eagerly waiting for him to feel sorry for her. So conceited. Desperate for his attention. But then again, she had been so easy to like. When had he started giving in? At first, he had been nothing more than disgusted. Appalled of the uproar that had gone on inside his head. That nasty feeling in his chest and his weak knees. But once he had surrendered, it had begun to feel good.

All he wanted - no - all he needed now, was to make sure she was safe. Protect her. Help her. That wasn’t just an act of kindness though. He had figured out that apparently, he mirrored her emotions. When she was pleased, he was too. When she was angry, he couldn’t help but feel furious as well. When she was sad, his chest stung with her. It felt like a purpose. Like she was the earth’s centre and everyone else, even himself, merely spun around her. She had his full attention now and he didn’t plan on taking it from her anytime soon.

If someone were to ask him why, he wouldn’t even know where to begin. How does one describe the meaning of everything? He could start with her glow. That devotion she seemed to radiate anywhere she was. Her relentless spirit and how ready she was to combat anyone with it. How tender she was with people that deserved it. And how ruthless she could be with the ones who didn’t. The way she moved in her sleep, slowly and gently, turning over and unknowingly stealing his blanket at least twice a night. The way her chest moved up and down when she lay next to him. How her eyes seemed to light up when she awoke and looked at him. The hours he had watched her. Held her. Felt her skin brushing against his own, just like in this moment. How could anyone experience that and not have the urge to keep it? To freeze those moments in time and lock them up, safely, for nobody to see.

Tom wasn’t sure if she was aware of how nervous she made him. He knew how to hide it, but was ever so annoyed at how much he depended on being close to her. And he usually wasn’t the one to become jittery. That was the response he normally got. Freda Morris, for example, couldn’t seem to think straight when he had taken her out once, during their sixth year. Merlin’s beard, that lass was nerve wrenching.

Quite contrary to her. No one had ever done that to him. She had crawled under his skin and into his head, drugging his mind until almost every single thought he produced revolved around her. But he knew his place. She hadn’t befuddled him just to make him her pawn. He knew because that was what his family had done ever since he could remember. She had never done him wrong. Maybe that was why he had helped her. And why he was willing to do anything for her, even if it meant for him to suffer. He was the antagonist in their story. And if he was poison, she was the remedy. If he was the villain, she was the treasure worth saving.

Tom’s pitiful monologue was interrupted when she woke up, opened her eyes and looked at him.

“Morning,” she said quietly and smiled.

He looked at her for a moment. If only she knew.

“Morning,” he replied.

She stretched her arms in the air and yawned, then turned towards him and ran her fingers along his jawline. Bliss.

“How long have you been awake?” she asked, staring at the stubble on his chin that her thumb had just touched.

“Not long,” he lied. “Just a few minutes.”

She grinned and placed a kiss onto the left end of his lips. “I have to get up and stir the potion. Care to join me?”

“Sure,” he nodded.

“Good. Oh, and I think I’m going to go to Diagon Alley in the afternoon. To buy the Foxgloves. I have to add them next week.”

“I’ll come.”

She exhaled and pulled him in, nuzzling into his neck.

“Do you think we should go to Knockturn Alley as well?” she asked, her voice muffled. “While we’re there. I want to see if any store offers Banshee tears.”

“I don’t think they do,” Tom said and she lifted her head to look at him.

“But where else then?”

“I think I know where we could get some.”

She nodded, urging him to tell her.

“Well, I’m sure Morfin owns a flask. He had to get it if he wanted to brew the antidote, didn’t he?”

“But if they never planned on curing Elsie entirely, I don’t think he would have gotten them.”

“Marvolo never planned on curing her,” Tom said. “Morfin did. He’s a Potions master. One that doesn’t care about legality. He knows every last person that deals with ingredients like that. Even if he never intended to free her, I’m sure he got them just in case he ever needed them for himself.”

Her eyes roamed his face while she thought about it. “So what can we do now? Go to your house, search his chamber and steal the flask?”

Tom shook his head. “That won’t be as easy. They’re always home, Marvolo has his eyes everywhere. Even the house-elves would alarm him.”

She frowned, brows furrowed while she lightly tugged on his hair.

“They’ll be gone,” Tom went on. “In late March. The Order of Merlin gets honoured and they are both invited. We could go then and try to find it.”

There it was again. That spark in her eyes.

“Okay,” she answered. “Let’s do it then. But for now, let’s stay in bed for five more minutes.”

Oop, hope you didn’t throw up from all that fluff. Please consider leaving a comment and tell me what you think so far :) They motivate me so much to keep writing! Let me know if you want to be tagged, or untagged. Thank you for reading!

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fericita-s · 3 years

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The Princess and the Barbarian

A Helnik tale, rated T. As Matthias recovers from a gunshot wound, Nina tells him the story of the Princess and the Barbarian. He interrupts a lot as his Fjerdan sensibilities are bothered and the Ravkan propaganda gets to be unbearable. Thank you @theburnbarreljester for beta-ing and for reminding me that we’re all here for the biting and trembling of lips.

Previous Chapters

Chapter 6

Inessa studied the landscape from the edge of the cave. She could see endless green sloping hills, the curved slice of a river, and the rocky path that led to her place of captivity. Her bound wrists were staked to the rocky ground of the cave and she could loosen the metal and slide out of the chains. She usually did for the first hour the barbarian was gone each day. But as the sun moved to the center of the sky, she knew it best to chain herself again and stay inside the wide, hard-packed confines of the cave to keep her ability to escape a secret. He seemed to think her powers were limited to fabrics and she didn’t want to alert him on what exactly she could do. She’d leave as soon as she knew where she was and had something better on her feet than her ruined dancing shoes.

Her best guess was that the barbarian had her in the woods near Halmhend, well into Fjerdan territory. She’d have to cross either the Permafrost to get to Chernast or go south through the forest to Ulensk to make it back to Ravka. If she escaped through the ice, she was likely to lose fingers or worse on the journey. And the nightly shrieks and howls from the wolves coming from deep within the woods were enough to make her long for even the barbarian’s comfort.

He rarely gave it.

On the first night he’d told her to stop her weeping for the dead with a harsh “The dead can’t hear you mourn but the living can. I might not be able to save you from the wolves or my countrymen if they come in force.” Then he’d made her burn her only remaining item of clothing and as the chemise went up in flames he’d given her his roughspun shirt. It still bore his scent even weeks later though she probably could have fabrikated that away if she wished. It felt like armor, being surrounded by the smell of the tundra and the smoke of campfires, even the trace of his sweaty musk. Like the volcra or the howling wolves or enemies she might find in this land would pass over her if she was disguised in his shirt and scent. It was a small comfort, but she clung to it. When he was off hunting or asleep she liked to run the fabric between her fingers, to run her hands underneath where the coarse material hit her thighs, not quite mourning that she’d never had a wedding night, but curious about what it would feel like for this barbarian to make her fully his.

He stayed bare chested in the cave and Inessa studied him like works of art she’d seen at the Grand Palace. He had cords of muscle along his arms and across his chest and his back was made up of hard planes that she surprised herself by wanting to run her hands across, to feel if Ravkan and Fjerdan bodies were made the same.

Once he’d thrown an elk carcass at her feet and demanded she cook and clean it, but she’d retched instead. Disgusted, he prepared the meat himself and then ate with an intensity and such a lack of decorum that Inessa stared, horrified and transfixed. He fed her too, bringing a jeweled goblet of mead to her lips and calling her “princess” in a way that was very different from the servants at Os Alta, like he was mocking her for being so useless.

He’d spent the next few days rendering the fat and making soap, stripping and treating the hide, drying the remaining meat in long strips. She’d watched it all without offering to help, but unable to look away from the way his arms looked while ripping bone from sinew, how the steam off of the cook fire made his long hair curl at his temple.

The cave was primitive but did have some comforts. She slept on what she assumed must have been his bed - a pile of furs and a hay pallet - while he slept by the entrance of the cave with his back to her. There were goblets like the one he offered her at meal times and stacks of animal pelts and barrels of mead and kvas arranged neatly against the side of the mountain.

Every night before he moved her chains to the bed and tied her there instead of the middle of the cave he asked about the Shadow Fold. He called her witch, he called her an abomination, he called her a privileged princess who didn’t know the havoc that such evil invited into the midst of the living. And each night she told him she had no idea how it was formed, who formed it, or how to extinguish it. She wanted to yell “It made me a widow and an orphan! Don’t you think I know the cost?” but cried silently instead, fabrikating the furs into the same soft heaviness as her quilts in the Grand Palace. Each morning she turned it back to fur, knowing he’d make her burn what he found changed.

She walked back into the cave and recited her daily prayers to the saints, beseeching them to safekeep her brother The Emperor and his wife and children. To keep the volcra confined to the Shadow Fold and to banish it forever. To see her in her suffering and give her a way to return home.

She heard the barbarian’s heavy footsteps behind her and then his voice, angry and rough. “What spells are you muttering, witch?”

“I’m saying prayers for my family. I can pray for you too if you’d like.” She turned to look at him and he scowled.

“I’ll take none of your prayers. Only Djel is the true maker and god.”

“You were gone longer today. Where did you go?” she asked, hoping he might mention the name of a town or a river that would help her figure out where they were, how she could leave.

“I was buying you this,” he said, throwing a bundle at her. “You can only have it if you promise not to alter it. No magic that would attract the volcra or widen the Shadow Fold.”

She began to unwrap the fabric strips and shook out the material inside. “It doesn’t work like that, fabrikating doesn’t - but then she stopped, struck by the absurdity of what he had given her. “This is a Fjerdan dress.”

“Yes. It is. Because you are in Fjerda. And because it is not proper for you to be wearing only my shirt as the days begin to turn colder.”

Inessa let one hysterical giggle leave her throat. That was what he found improper? Her wearing his shirt? He’d kidnapped her from her family and had her chained in a cave. And now he wanted her to wear the dress of a Fjerdan woman. She wished she’d studied their customs more closely, she might have been able to guess which town this was from based on the embroidered hem or the silver buttons on the sleeves. But then, another idea took form.

“If you want me in a new dress, please, let me bathe first. It’s been weeks.” Perhaps she could glimpse more of the terrain, gain a better understanding of where she was and how she could leave.

He looked at her for a long moment, a flicker of something in his eyes that she hadn’t seen before. “Alright. I’ll take you to where the beavers have made a dam.”

He unchained her from the ground but kept her hands bound, which meant she stumbled as she picked her way across the rocky path. He walked behind her, catching her under the elbow when she lost her footing and once grabbing her waist when she pitched towards the edge of the cliff. New clothes would help her in an escape attempt, but unless she had better shoes she wouldn’t get far.

The small pond created by the dam was clear and cold and Inessa gasped as she put her foot in. “Will you unchain me? So I can bathe?”

“No.” He thrust a chunk of the elk fat soap into her hands, a hard glint in his eye. “I will bathe you.”

She looked at him just as fiercely and then pulled his shirt over her head, shimmying awkwardly around the chains, so that she was standing bare before him with the shirt bunched up over the restraints and the tightly clutched soap. He pulled a knife out of its sheath by his waist and cut the shirt away from her.

“I’ll burn this tonight. Get rid of the witchy stench.”

Inessa was horrified to feel the prick of hot tears in her eyes as she stood naked in front of him, listening to the same insults he’d thrown at her daily. She turned and walked into the water, biting her lip against the cold and then submerging herself fully, trembling as soon as she surfaced for air with her eyes closed. She wiped at her eyes with her bound hands and then the barbarian was there, holding her head in his hands and using his thumbs to wipe the water from her eyes.

The water and his words were cold, but everywhere his hands touched her felt hot. He was still warm from their walk to the dam and she could feel it radiating off of his bare chest as he ran his hands along her forearms and then her upper arms and shoulders.

“I should not have brought you here to defile these waters. All waters feed Djel and are fed by him. We drown witches in these waters for his glory.” He rubbed his fingers in between hers and then scrubbed at her fingernails with his and she was acutely aware that he’d shucked his pants and boots and was as bare as she was. “But we have a saying, the water hears and understands. The ice does not forgive. Djel will forgive me for this transgression; it is in the service of keeping his people safe from your magic.”

“I don’t need you forgiveness, or that of the ice, either,” she snapped, shivering. The water was icy cold and with his words came the sensation that she was being drowned in them.

He took the soap from her and rubbed it over his hands until he formed a lather and then carefully slid his fingers under the chains around her wrists. He scrubbed her gently and silently and she tried to control her gasping breaths by calling to mind memories of home.

“My mother’s soaps smelled of lavender,” she said and he grunted in response. “For her evening baths. Jasmine if it was in the morning.” She closed her eyes again, trying to remember the scent of it, the way it felt comforting and certain. The way it meant her mother was near and she was loved.

“Are Ravkans so dirty that they must bathe twice a day?” Her eyes flew open and she scowled.

“You're the barbarian! You haven’t bathed since well before you stole into Ravka, I’d wager.” She shivered and he dropped her hand.

“I’m bathing now aren’t I?” He handed her the soap and then went under the water. He emerged with his back to her and she watched as droplets of water ran down his back. His long hair was dripping and darker now that it was wet and he soon had it in a lather. He went under again then rose towards her, reaching for her chained hands and pulling her to himself. He took the soap from her, worked to make suds, and then buried his fingers into her wet hair.

It felt exquisite.

He scratched at her scalp and then down to the base of her neck and onto her shoulder blades, rubbing more soap along her back and down towards the curve of her bottom. She closed her eyes again and gave herself over the sensation of being made clean as his hands explored new places: her thighs, her ankles, a palm across her breasts that made her gasp and bite her lip again. He held her elbow as he dipped her under the water and when she emerged free of the filth and blood that had clung to her for weeks, she felt new.

He gave her a blanket to wrap herself in and they sat on the rocks at the edge of the dam watching the dying light of the sun as it edged closer to the horizon across the vast Permafrost to the west. They were farther east then she’d realized. Perhaps close to Chernast.

His hair was drying quickly and he ran his hands through it, tugging at knots in the golden strands. He looked young like this, perhaps even as young as she was. She might have offered to braid his hair, but her hands were shaking from the cold annd her own wet hair and she wasn’t sure what she’d do if her hands were in his hair. Strangle him? Rub it between her fingers and press her face against it? Both seemed like a good idea.

“We leave now. Before it gets dark.” He pulled his clothes on but she made no movement to put on the dress he’d given her. She definitely couldn’t manage it with the chains and even if she wasn’t chained, she’d only ever been dressed by lady’s maids.

He turned as he finished pulling up his pants and used his chin to point to the dress. “Put it on.”

“I can’t do it like this,” she said, raising her arms and showing him the chains.

He was silent as he walked to her and picked up the dress, separating it into three pieces and a pair of pantalettes that fell to the ground. He knelt down and held the layered skirts open and she stepped into them, stumbling into his chest as she lifted her leg. Her loose, wet hair encircled his head and he drew back as if stung. He rose and then turned her so her back was to him and cinched the ties at her waist, looping them roughly into knots. Then he spun her and undid the chains around her wrists with a key from his pocket.

“Steady now. Put your arms through.” He helped her into the bodice and then the woolen vest that covered it, his fingertips skimming the exposed skin at her waist before he drew the laces closed and tied them as well, his head bent over his work and inches from her chest.

“What’s your name?” she asked, like he was a new lady’s maid and she’d have to remember his name for when they repeated this routine in the morning before a gilded mirror and a porcelain washbasin.

“Iver.” He picked up the pantalettes and bent down to one knee as he held them for her to step into. She placed her hands on his shoulder.

“Thank you for the dress, Iver. And for the bath. My name is Inessa.”

“I know,” he said and then chained her hands once more before he stepped away from her, walking towards the path that had led them here. “It will be dark soon. Best leave now.”

She followed him back to the cave in silence. He built a fire and cooked a rabbit and he asked the same question he asked every night. And even though her answer was the same, everything changed.

“Inessa, do you know anything about the darkness that made the fold? About the fold itself?”

“No, Iver. I don't.”

He looked at her across the flickering light cast by the fire and she thought of how much the shadows it cast looked like the volcra. How the red flames looked like the bright bursts of blood she’d seen the day of the volcra attack. He moved to her slowly and then reached for the chains at her wrists, undoing the lock and then rubbing her wrists as the heavy links fell away. Inessa looked at his hands on hers, so large and now so gentle, and when he pulled away and stood, she wanted to reach out and draw him back down. She wanted to touch every inch of his skin, to know the way each cell melded together, to feel him as he joined with her, to understand the making of him.

“There. You sleep like that now,” he said, and then stalked off from the cave and into the night.

#helnik #helnik fan fic #matthias helvar #nina zenik #post crooked kingdom but Matthias lives #the princess and the barbarian

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lilith-of-rivia · 4 years

Text

The Blacksmith’s Daughter

Masterlist

Pairing: Geralt X Reader

Word count: 3,259

Warnings: Swearing, slight dirty talk, mentions of death, gross wound

Summary: The blacksmiths daughter in the upper northern kingdoms, is the only reason Geralt of Riva trusts to not only fix his weaponry but his wounds. He travels long and far to see the half mage, every year. During the many years he comes to visit her town, she grows feelings (love like feelinsg) for the creature. one particular visits she realizes she can no longer hide these feelinsg from him. [possibe part 2 if interested]

My father only had one child before my mother died. My mother was someone he always referred to as his soul. The light of his life. She died when I was just a babe. He never remarried, saying he’d never disrespect the love of his life. My mother was a mage. The healer of our village. Her powers passed in some aspects down to myself, but not enough to be considered a full mage. I gained the ability for immortality like my mother, unless by blade or beast. My eyes were different from those around my small town, bright emerald green. My father loved my eyes; “Just like you lovely mother my deer.” He always said to me.

Even with the limited magical abilities I possessed I chose to help my father in his smithing shop. I started when I was 16 that was nearly 30 winters ago. I haven’t aged much past 24. Making all the locals continuously fight for my hand. My father never wavered tho. Knowing I wanted to marry for love.

Over the last 30 years I've become one of the most well known smiths in the upper northern kingdoms. I've been called upon to make weapons for the mightiest King’s, even the Lioness Calanthe herself. My blades were well known across most major cities. I had apprenticed many young men to help and the money I began to bring in, made it able for my father to retire about 10 winters ago. My craft did not only extend in my weaponry but also my herbal skills. I was responsible for training the town healers and herbalists. My mother's talents passed onto me. I was a force to be reckoned with.

“Y/N?” My youngest apprentice, Apollo called to me from the front of my shop. Placing the sword I had been sharpening on a shelf I walked to him. I was covered in soot and dirt, my long [hair color] hair resting in a messy bun atop my head. My hands were covered in thick leather gloves that my father crafted for me many years ago to protect my fragile hands. As I approached the window that my customers spoke to my workers threw I saw a man. He was tall, much taller than myself and even Apollo. Apollo was a strong young man, about 6 '1 a decent build, still looked like a boy. But this man made him look like a child. His shoulders were broad and his hair was a striking silvery grey. I knew who he was, all too well.

“Ahh Geralt of Rivia. I thought you were long dead.” My words were followed with a soft chuckle, as the corner of his lips twitched up in a small smirk. His Bard at his side beamed at me.

“Good evening Y/N. How wonderful to see you!” Jaskier said smiling. I took my gloves off my hands along with my messy apron, glancing at Apollo. He’d never met the famed witcher before.

“Apollo be a dear and go finish with Lord Ferdinand's items. He’ll be back soon to collect them.” He nodded his head before walking back to the forge along with my other two apprentices. I opened the small door to the side of the window and stepped about of my shop, the cool Autumn air chilling my warm skin after being over a hot forge for hours.

Jaskier was the first to approach me, bringing me into a tight embrace. I gladly returned the gesture. I pulled back to examine the bard.

“My how you still have yet to age. Always shocks me.” He laughs and pulls out his prized dagger. He had won it in a game of poker many years ago from a lord. The blade alone cost more than anything he possessed. He didn't need the protection. Due to the brooding witcher he always traveled with. I had mended it and only I had mended it. He never trusted another with his blade. Just as his counterpart.

“It's in need for a good sharpening, maybe a polish to the handle? As always you’ll be paid for with not only my coin, but my recommendations as we travel.” I smiled and took the dagger from him and placed it in my belt before tuning to the brooding witcher.

The relationship we shared was like one I didn't share with any other. When he came through my town, I not only fixed and mended his weaponry but also his wounds. I was no longer an active healer. Unless it was for one particular witcher with a pair of striking golden orbs that could pear into the depths of my soul. He could pry out any secrets I never told anyone. Even my father.

My father loved Geralt. Always made comments about how I should pursue him whenever he came to town. Foolish old man thinking a witcher of Geralt’s status stopping for a blacksmith's daughter. Even one of my caliber. Many years ago he traveled with a mage named Yennifer, I adored her when she came with him. An adoring young thing, always willing to teach me new ways in medicine.

They were lovers for many years until they drifted apart. Yennefer found love in her first mate Istredd. They married a few years ago. Occasionally Yennifer would pass through and we’d catch up over a pint of ale, and she'd tell me of her travels looking for a cure to her empty womb. I pitied the woman, she desperately wanted children.

Knowing women of Yennifer’s caliber were who Geralt went for always made me hesitate from telling him my true feelings. I had fallen madly in love with the witcher. He stayed weeks at a time some years in my town, killing monsters in closer towns and being our own personal Witcher. The townspeople loved him, contrary to many other villages and cities.

“How many wounds am I healing today, wolf?” I asked as I approached him, his small smirk formed into a genuine smile as he embraced me. My arms around his broad shoulders as he bent to hug me. I could feel him grimace under my touch as my chest pressed to his own. I pulled away with a soft frown before lifting his shirt softly. Revealing a large deep gash spreading from his upper chest to his pant line. The gash was angry, yellow pus now oozy in certain areas. My brows lifted on my forehead in shock.

“You bloody idiot. How long has this gone untreated?” I asked quite harshly as I walked back into my shop, gathering my cloak and notebook full of orders to fill. I placed Jaskiers Dagger on a shelf.

“I’ll see you lads tomorrow, don’t forget to lock up tonight. Send for me if you need it.” I called my three workers in the back who all smiled and nodded before refocusing on their tasks.

I walked back out to the two men who were waiting for me. I shot a glare at Jaskier. “You let him walk around with an infection like that ?” I snapped as we started walking to the edge of town, passing the tavern and inn they both had spent many nights in.

“He refused to see anyone other than you, we’ve been traveling to see you for three consecutive days.” I directed my glair to the witcher who had a sly smirk on his lips.

“It's not that bad you drama queen.” I scoffed at his words before reaching over and brushing my fingertips along the cufeather-light. He hissed in pain and nearly doubled over.

“Yeah not that bad. You idiot loaf.” We walked at a quick pause up a small road from the main, up to my small cabin on the outskirts of the forest. I opened the door placing down my belongings before, sitting Geralt down on a chair in my kitchen. Jaskier on the other side, his hands on the book that had set there that I read in the mornings.

I rushed around my kitchen grabbing the herbs and viles full of oils and serums. I grumbled to myself at the stupidity of the witcher while I filled a pail with clean water. “Shirt off.” It wasn't a question or anything he could argue with. I knew he wouldn’t. I could hear his grunts of pain as he peeled his black shirt off. Once the pail was full of water I grabbed a box full of fresh wrapping and set everything on the table as Jaskier read unbothered.

I crouched in front of Geralt, my fingers tracing the angered skin surrounding the gash. I inhaled deeply, the scent of the wound filling my nose. It was badly infected but nothing I couldn't fix.

“Werewolf?” I asked, knowing I was right. The smell of the wolf’s claws being the first I could smell.

“Yeah, a real fucker too. Nearly broke my blade.” He hissed, In part of his anger at his last hunt, and due to the stinging of the alcohol I had poured on the clean cloth dabbing and cleaning the wound. His muscles contracted under my touch. I sighed but continued my work, spreading a lavender oil over the outside of the gash, soothing the skin. I grabbed a jar scooping out a helping of a cream made of hemlock and musk mallow to help the infection. After a thick paste was covering the gash I placed a few pieces of gauze over it keeping it protected. Once I was finished I looked up at the witcher, who was watching me intently. His amber eyes are boring into my emerald ones.

“I suggest you stay here a few days, till you’re healed more. So I can keep an eye on that infection.” I said with a soft smile. He grabbed a pack off his hip and placed three coins on my table, making me shake my head.

“Geralt, keep it I-“

“You just used so many fucking things on me. Take the money. Replenish your stock.” I rolled my eyes taking the coin from the table and putting it in my pocket, knowing I’d be giving it to the needy in town. I had plenty.

Jaskier placed the book he was reading down and smiled.

“Know that the broot is no longer dying, care to get some ale?” He asked, making me laugh.

“Let me see your sword first.” I was the only person on this plant that he allowed to touch that beloved sword. He pulled it from its sheath and handed it to me. I looked over the blade, seeing the dullness, and how fragile the silver was.

“Lucky for you, we replenish our silver last week, I have plenty to fix this blunt blade.” I placed the sword back in its sheath before placing it on a hook on my door. I walked back over to Geralt, taking his chin in my hand making him look up at me from his seated position.

“If you ever come to me with an infection like that again. I will kill you instead of heal you.” My threats fell flat, I knew that. He chuckled softly before kissing my hand softly.

“Thank you, my dear, Y/N. I already feel better.” I smiled softly and looked over at Jaskier who was just watching with an exasperated expression. He knew we had a weird relationship and truly couldn’t understand why we never became anything more than friends.

“How about that ale?” He said after clearing his throat. I nodded, grabbing his shirt from the floor and helping it back over his head. The men left their items in my home after I insisted they stay with me instead of going to the inn. And we were on our way to the bustling tavern. Filed with laughing people celebrating the end of the week with the sweet peach ale our town was best known for. Geralt and Jaskier found a table as I went to thbarkeep.

“Ahh Y/N!! How are you, my dear?” He asked as he filed the tankers with the cold bubbly ale.

“Quite well August thank you. Hope your ax is doing better?” I asked, speaking of the ax I had fixed for him less than a month ago.

“Oh works wonderfully!” He smiled sweetly at me passing me the tankers and I pulled out the coin but he held his hand out.

“First rounds on the house.” I smiled and nodded at the man grabbing the tankers turning my back to him and walking back to the two men I left. As I approached I saw Annabel. A quite permisquess young thing, not that it was my business what she did with her body, all over Geralt. I felt envy course, threw my body as she groped his chest. I saw his face contort in pain as she brushed her hand down his chest, and he gently pushed her back, but of course, she didn't get the message. I walked up behind her, setting the ale on the table firmly before taking her wrist in my hand spinning her to face me.

“He is hurt, a massive gash, infected puss all over the bandages. Stop. Touching.” My voice was harsh as I glared at the young woman. Her head dropped as she walked away from me in a hurry. I let out a huff as I sat next to Geralt. I could almost feel his smirk as he looked at me. I lifted the tanker to my lips sipping the sweet ale as did Jaskier who was also smiling at me.

“I'll stab your eyes out of your head if you keep looking at me like that Bard.” I spat and he rolled his eyes standing with the ale in his hand looking over at a group of young women.

“I’m going to party, but now I’m also leaving you two alone too” He pointed his free hand in between the two of us, “figure out what the hell you are. Don't wait up.” He left us as he walked to the group of women ready to brag about his adventures with the feared witcher. My cheeks were warm at his words, as I gulped down more of the ale, ignoring Geralt’s persistent gaze as he drank his ale.

“Any idea what Jaskier may be talking about, dove?” He asked, his arm now draped around my chair, his fingers brushing my arm lightly.

“Don't get any smart ide,as Witcher, you're in no place to fuck with a wound like that.” I didn't look at him.

“No one said anything about fucking dove.” That godforsaken nickname made my nipples harden. And my cunt moisten. I finally turned to him, he was inches away from my face. His ale is now on the table. His hand gently cupped my face.

“I’m serious. Even if I wanted to, you cant. It could break the scabs forming.” I couldn't help but lean into his warm rough calloused hand. My hands were similar in feel due to my craft.

“I never mentioned fuking dove, but if you really wanted to. You’d be my first pick.” His lips were inches from mine. My breathing became more erratic at his words, my heartbeat was quickening. He chuckled softly. Inhaling deeply.

“I can not only hear your heart but smell your arousal, my love.” I bit my lip softly and closed my eyes gently. I wanted to, more than anything. But I couldn't just fuck him and ignore the love I felt for the man.

“You’ll leave soon Geralt. And my heart cannot handle it.” It was now or never. I pulled back a little looking in his eyes. “I've been in love with you for many many years. You coming threw and staying when you do is the happiest I am all year, but I know you do not feel the same. I can't fuck you and then watch you leave. You may leave now and never speak-“ I didn't even have the chance to finish my rambling because his lips were pressed to mine. His hands now both on my cheeks. His lips were rough and tasted sweet. It lasted mere minutes. Before he pulled away.

“I will always come home to you, my dove. If you’ll have me.” He said with a smile. My heart was beating faster again. His hands were now holding my own.

“I've never been good with words, but there is a reason I only trust you to tend to my wounds and my swords. You are not just another woman to me. I need you in my life. If you’ll have me, I'll always return to you after every hunt and If I’m needed far, you’ll come with me.” My eyes were welling with tears at his sweet words. It was all I ever wanted him to say. This time I pressed my lips to his. It was softer than before, longer. Full of more passion. More love than any kiss I had ever shared.

“I’ll always take you in your stupid bafoon.” He chuckled softly at my words and leaned back placing his arm around my shoulders again, his eyes scanning the crowd, landing on Jaskier who was singing his least favorite tune. But even the hated song couldn't damper the Witcher’s smile.

“You’ll now need to ask my father for his blessing if you plan to take me with you,” I whispered, nodding my head to the direction of where my father was seated, talking to his companions laughing and joking. Geralt cleared his throat and got to his feet, his fingers laced on my own. He led me through the crowd.

“Mr. Y/L/N?” Geralt asked, his shoulders pressed back as he stood behind my father, his hand not leaving my own. My father turned, saw our hands then the face of the man I was with.

“Geralt!! So good to see y, ou my boy!” He stood and patted Geralt's shoulder.

“How’s the hunt these days?”

“Very good sir, I um... actually have a question for you.” My father smiled and looked at me. Winking.

“What's that lad?” He asked.

“Can I have your blessing to take your daughter's hand in marriage?” I nearly choked on my own spit at his words. My heart is now hammering out of my chest. My cheeks bright red as I squeezed his hand. My father laughed and threw his hands in the air.

“Finally!! A more than worthy suitor for my dear daughter!” The men behind him cheered a few men in the bar looking over eyes burning into Geralt in jealousy.

“You are the only one for my daughter's dear boy. My dear wife Gladdis wouldn’t have been happier. You protect my daughter. With your life. And you have my blessing.” My father stuck his hand out and Geralt let go of mine to shake it.

“I’d die before a hair is harmed on her head, sir.” My father laughed.

“So it will be a wedding in the future! A round on me for everyone!!” The tavern cheered and my father hugged me, kissing my cheek before whispering, “I Told you,my dear. And you thought I was wrong.” I laughed softly and hugged him tightly. An arm wrapped around my hip. Jaskier cheered and started to play a tune on his lute. Geralt bent down his lips by my ear.

“I love you to the moon and back, dove.”

#geralt x you #garalt imagines #geralt x reader #witcher ciri #witcher yennefer #the withcer #geralt #geralt of rivera #imagnes #geralt imagine #geralt fanfic #witcher netflix #geralt x yn

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swanslieutenant · 4 years

Text

an extravagance of candy hearts (1/1)

Happy Valentine’s Day! My turn for posting for the @csrolereversal, with the art by @kmomof4. Hope you all enjoy this short fic for Valentine’s Day, set in the six weeks of peace during S4.

Read on AO3

Summary: As Killian's first Valentine's Day in Storybrooke approaches, Ruby and Henry take it upon themselves to make sure that both he and Emma have an incredible, extravagant time they won't forget.

Emma and Killian walk hand in hand down the main street of Storybrooke, headed towards Granny’s diner. It’s a quiet Saturday in early February; in fact, it’s been peaceful since Elsa and Anna returned to their land and since Gold was banished from Storybrooke. The absence of the Dark One seems to have lifted a cloud over the small town, freeing it from the darkness lurking in every corner and in the now shuttered pawn shop.

While Emma has returned to her day-to-day activities as sheriff, Killian spends most of his time trying to help Belle in figuring out a way to rescue the fairies from the Sorcerer’s Hat. It’s frustrating and fruitless work, and so when Emma had dropped in to take him to Granny’s for lunch, he was only too happy to oblige.

Just outside of Granny’s, Leroy and one of the other former dwarves (whose name escapes Killian’s mind) are in the midst of a shouting match.

Emma sighs as they approach, shaking her head in irritation. “Best go and see what that is about,” she mutters, before stepping on her tiptoes to kiss his cheek. “See you in a minute. Order me a grilled cheese, yeah?”

He nods, and steps away while Emma moves to confront the arguing duo. Inside, it’s the end of the lunch rush, most of the tables littered with used plates and cups instead of patrons. Instead of cleaning up the tables, however, Ruby is perched precariously on a tilted chair at one of the front windows. A string of scarlet cartoon hearts dangles from one edge of the window as she leans over to pin it up on the other side. From the centre heart hangs a strange looking blonde baby on a string, a bow and heart-tipped arrow clenched in its hammy fists.

“What the devil is that?” Killian blurts out, unable to stop himself at the sight the monstrosity.

“It’s a cupid,” Ruby replies, pressing the string firmly into place with a pin. She hops down to admire her work, and chuckles at Killian’s expression. “It’s for Valentine’s Day.”

She says it as if it’s obvious, but as with many of the parts of Storybrooke – cellphones, cars, the internet – the words are empty to him. “What’s Valentine’s Day?”

He glances around the rest of the diner, and realizes that it’s not only the front window decorated with the strange little cupids. Ruby has been busy – strings of hearts adorn the bar’s overhang, large heart decorations and cupid babies are splattered on the windows leading to the kitchen, the white napkins at each table have been swapped for scarlet, and the tables are covered with plastic tablecloths instead of their bare tops. Even the usual plain pastries have been replaced by ones with pink icing and colourful sprinkles.

“It’s a day for lovers,” Ruby explains, and at that Killian’s interest is piqued. A day for lovers, is it?

“Indeed?” he says slowly, his tone of voice making Ruby laugh and swat at him with a cleaning rag as she steps behind the counter.

“Get your mind out of the gutter. There’s more to it than that; it’s all about love and romance and sweetheart candy and mushy valentines’ cards. You give your partner something cute and romantic like chocolates or a piece of jewellery that they’d like, and then go for dinner or do something fun that you both like. It’s every February 14th.”

“Hmm,” Killian replies, thoughtfully. He glances out the window, where he can see Emma’s cascading blonde curls down her back, still dealing with the arguing dwarves. Is she going to be expecting something from him on this day?

“Is that something… everyone does in this realm?”

“Oh yes,” Ruby says earnestly, her eyes sparkling. “If you’ve got a significant other, it’s a must. It’s like New Year’s or Halloween or July 4th, something that everyone celebrates.”

Killian doesn’t know what those other things are either, but he nods. He’s trying to adapt to this world the best he can … if this is something they always do, then he’ll participate too.

“Right. Okay. What day is it again?”

“It’s the 14th,” Ruby replies, grinning before twirling away to pick up a new order of food. She returns a few minutes later after delivering it to the next customer, chatting more about Valentine’s Day and what it is, while Killian takes a seat at the bar, ordering himself and Emma lunch and coffee in the moments Ruby takes a breath.

As he waits for the food and listens to Ruby about the romantic day, half-watching Emma outside to see if she is almost done, his eyes drift back to the hanging hearts and the ugly baby Ruby had called a cupid. He’s not sure what a demented flying baby has to do with a holiday supposed to be for lovers … unless it’s a warning to be careful with the long-lasting consequences of a romantic night.

“And Ruby? What does that thing have to do with this Valentine’s Day?”

She follows his eyesight, and through a laugh, does her best to explain to him what a cupid is. As far as Killian understands it, the little babies with wings are a bastardization of ancient mythology about a god of love who shot arrows at people to make them fall in love with each other. Emma often mentions how strange and foreign she finds the Enchanted Forest, with its ogres and chimera meat, but he must say – her land is just as strange as she claims his is.

The door to Granny’s swings open then, a tinkling bell ringing out to announce someone’s entrance, but instead of Emma, it’s Henry instead, bounding in with a wide grin.

“Hi Killian,” he says, swinging into the bar seat beside Killian. “My mom said you were in here. She’s still trying to figure out what Leroy is so mad about, but said she’d be here as soon as she can.”

Killian sighs, and shakes his head. Typical dwarves.

Ruby, who had stepped away to fetch the coffee, returns and grins at Henry, winking conspiratorially at Killian.

“I was just telling Killian about Valentine’s Day, Henry.”

“Right! It’s your first Valentine’s Day with my mom, right?” Killian nods, before noting that it’s his first Valentine’s Day ever, and Henry’s grin widens. “I’ll help you get some things for my mom! I bet she hasn’t had a good Valentine’s Day in a while.”

“You’ll help?” questions Killian, abruptly. He doesn’t think Valentine’s Day is very appropriate for a child – a day for lovers, hadn’t Ruby said?

But Henry nods eagerly. “We celebrate Valentine’s Day at school,” he replies, oblivious to Killian’s train of thought. “So I know what I’m doing. And plus, I know my mom – I know exactly what type of candy and treats she likes too.”

At that, Ruby and Henry begin listing off different items that he absolutely needs to get for Emma at rapid fire pace, so quick that Killian can barely keep up. Chocolates, all different types. Candy hearts with words printed on them like sweetie and love and romance. An expensive bottle of wine. Red and pink flowers, with loose rose petals to scatter around. Candles that smell sweet and strong, a delicate gold or silver piece jewellery in the shape of a heart, small teddy bears holding hearts or their arms open for a hug. They’ll have to make sure his ship is appropriately decorated too, with heart and cupid decorations, glittery and bright.

He opens his mouth, ready to cut them off – they are not hanging a cupid up anywhere on his ship if that’s the last thing he does. But before he can speak, the doors open again, and Emma finally steps in.

Her face is flushed with annoyance, and she marches over to them, blowing out a hard breath of air. “If I have to hear Leroy’s voice for one more minute today, I will lose my mind,” she mutters. She pauses, taking in Killian’s expression (which he is sure one of pure bewilderment) and then the grins on Ruby and Henry’s face, and frowns. “What are you all talking about?”

“Nothing,” Ruby and Henry say quickly.

“Just getting your lunch ready,” Ruby adds. “Killian knows your order by heart now.”

Emma smiles at him, the tension between her brow easing and her eyes softening. “Thanks.”

“Of course, love.”

Grinning, Ruby flitters away to get their food. As she brings it back and they start to eat, Killian enjoys his lunch with Emma, as he always does. Henry and Ruby retreat to the other end of the diner, and Killian can’t help but notice their grins and the list they are starting to make between them. He may not know a thing about this Valentine’s Day, but Killian is sure about one thing – he is going to regret getting Ruby and Henry involved in it.

xxxx

The night of February 14th, Emma finishes her shift at the sheriff station and heads over to Granny’s to pick up some takeout. She and Killian have settled into a routine in the last couple of weeks of having dinner together Thursday nights on his ship. She ducks Granny’s, a takeaway bag in her fist, waving in departure to Ruby’s wink and suggestive comment to have fun with Killian tonight.

Before reaching the docks, Emma makes a short stop at the corner store to grab some snacks for after dinner. She’s made it her mission to introduce Killian to the food of this world, and that, of course, includes junk food. His palate is still mostly rooted in salted fish and hard bread, and there are some processed sweets that absolutely do not agree with him. But they have found a few things that both of them can agree on other than Granny’s takeout, which seems to satisfy the taste buds of anyone from any realm.

Emma picks up some chips and a bag of cheddar popcorn – a new favourite for Killian, they’ve discovered – and then heads to the front desk to pay. However, she pauses by the greeting card section, bright red cards for Valentine’s catching her eye.

At breakfast this morning with Henry, he had reminded her, in his blunt and not so subtle way, that it was Valentine’s Day today and had she gotten Killian anything yet? She’d laughed and ruffled his hair, telling him to mind his own business, though it had gotten her thinking.

She hasn’t got him anything, because, well, she’s never had anyone to buy a Valentine’s Day card for before. It just wasn’t on her mind as something she should do. She’s only been in one serious relationship during the month February before, and her and Neal weren’t really the couple to get each other mushy cards with funny animal puns or an elaborate poem that would take up multiple paragraphs.

Besides, she doubts Killian has any idea what Valentine’s Day is or that they even had an equivalent in the Enchanted Forest. She’s noticed him staring at the decorations around town, his brow furrowed, and she keeps forgetting to explain it to him.

(Okay, that’s not quite true; Emma has thought about explaining it, but she doesn’t know how to, not when it’s a day about romance and that could mean mentioning the word love or feelings or something along those lines and Emma does not want to go there.)

Emma turns away from the cards, but then pauses, Henry’s words echoing in her mind.

Have you got anything for Killian yet? It is Valentine’s Day, Mom! He is your boyfriend, right?

Well … she supposes he’s got a point. While Henry’s idea of Valentine’s Day is still mired in innocence, mostly of candy and mandatory valentines’ cards exchanged between classmates, the sentiment behind the holiday finally feels like something she can get behind. Getting something for some you lo-care about, a day to show how much someone means to you? Alright, fine. She can do that.

Especially seeing as he almost died a few weeks ago … nothing like a brush with death to put things into perspective.

So, with her arms full of chips and popcorn and praying no one like Regina or her parents pop in to see her and make some knowing or snide comment, Emma turns back to the greeting card section.

The Valentine’s Day cards are the most prominent given the current date; the cards are mostly glittery and pink and truly revolting if she’s being honest with herself, but she forces herself to look through them, searching for the least offensive card she can find. There are many that make her anxiety soar or cringe with second hand embarrassment – no cards with the word love, she thinks firmly, or ones that profess undying devotion (nothing with the word dying either, not after the incident with Gold and Killian’s heart a few weeks ago).

Finally, one catches her eye. It’s pale pink, devoid of glitter or the dreaded L-word. Emblazoned on the front is a boat floating through a sea of crimson hearts, the inscription inside reading You Float My Boat underneath a picture of the same ship, its sails unfurled to that the main sail is a bright red heart.

She snorts, but it’s perfect. Not too cheesy (compared to the some of the others, at least), maritime related, no mention of anything too serious, and if anything, hopefully something will make Killian laugh.

After paying for her items, and borrowing the clerk’s pen to sign her name on the card and write Killian’s name on the envelope, Emma heads out to the docks. It’s a cool evening, and as she approaches the ship, all is quiet on deck.

“Killian?” she calls as she boards. “Are you here?”

“Down below, Swan!”

She slips the card into her jacket’s large inner pocket before she moves to join him in his cabin. As she climbs down the ladder, unable to see the cabin until her head clears the deck, she says, “I got us some chips, and that cheddar popcorn you like – what the hell happened in here?”

The cabin is utterly unrecognizable. The lighting is dim, as usual, but instead of being lit by lanterns, there are countless candles around the cabin, low and flickering. The neat collection of maps and books on the centre table has been replaced by several bouquets of scarlet and pale pink roses, bowl upon bowl of candy hearts, a stack of chocolate boxes, and several bottles of wine. There are more flowers and rose petals around the entire cabin, with heart streamers wrapped around the chairs and taped to the bookcases. It looks more like a cabin you’d see in one of those cheesy love cruises than the sleeping quarters of a dreaded pirate captain.

“What – what is all this?”

Killian, who is standing at the bottom of the stairs, extends his hook to help her down the last few steps of the ladder. In the dim light it’s hard to see his expression, but when he speaks his voice is tinged with embarrassment.

“I was told this is the norm for Valentine’s Day in your land, but now I see that Henry and Ruby have certainly taken advantage of my naivety surrounding your realm’s holidays …”

At once, it all falls into place. That day at the diner, Henry and Ruby’s strange behaviour then and today, Killian’s bewilderment. She should’ve known that they were up to something, especially with Henry’s pressure this morning. It’s a little over the top, and she can definitely see Ruby and Henry’s influence in this, but the fact that Killian allowed the pair of them to bring all this stuff into his ship and make it up in this way, without knowing anything about the holiday, well … it’s seriously one of the sweetest things anyone has ever done for her.

Killian is still talking, something about how Ruby and Henry are responsible for all this and he’s sorry if it’s too much, when Emma steps forward, interrupting his rambles by pressing a firm kiss to his lips. She drops the chips as she wraps her arms around him, hugging him tightly to her as he does the same.

“I love it,” she says against his mouth, and then pulls away to look at it all again. They move towards the table together, admiring the chocolates and the candy, and Killian’s expression shifts into one of mischief, his eyes dancing.

“Even the extravagance of candy hearts?” he asks teasingly, gesturing to the numerous bowls. “I must confess, I had one earlier and nearly broke a tooth.”

Emma laughs and presses a kiss to his cheek, wrapping her arms around his waist. “Even the rock-hard candy hearts.”

He grins, and then picks up one of the loose roses from the table and hands it to her, bowing his head slightly in reverence. “For you, love. Happy Valentine’s Day.”

She takes it from him, smiling at the memory of when he’d last given her a flower, at their first date, and then pulls the envelope from her jacket pocket, thankful that she listened to Henry and got him something too. It’s far less than all this, but she hopes he’ll love it anyways.

“I have something for you too. Happy Valentine’s Day.”

Killian’s eyes brighten, and he quickly opens the card, delicately ripping the top of the envelope with his hook. He laughs as he sees it, delighted, and he kisses her again.

“Thank you, love. I take it ‘float my boat’ is a good thing?”

Emma grins and nods. “The best.”

They wrap their arms around each other, and Emma glances back to the cluttered table, grinning, her earlier apprehensions around Valentine’s Day and what it means and feelings and all that put to rest – maybe this holiday isn’t so bad after all.

#captain swan #cs role reversal #captain swan role reversal #cs ff #cs ff one shot #valentine's day fic

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dhuahome · 4 years

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Dog Training For Various Purpose Explained

HOW TO START TRAINING A DOG FOR AGILITY

For a rule, agility coaching really should start as that the furry friend is a pet. However, proprietors may still ease coaching with dogs that are older. The query" when would be that the dog believed older for agility coaching" is essential to picking whether to begin educating a dog.

Becoming"older" tremendously changes from a pet dog, by the degree of your pet canine's practical experience into the natural and inherent fashions it's. In summary, there's not any particular age in which the dog needs to be controlled out of coaching.

However, it's usually much simpler to start off training with substantially more youthful dogs due to the fact their learned behaviors continue to be maybe not dangled in their customs.

For selecting older canines for coaching, the handler must perhaps not build the belief that canine wouldn't further learn there's no requirement to spend your time. The approach to this pet just as far as this of this coach is each tremendously critical to speedier learning. The further patient and dedicated that the dog owner could be that the faster canine learns.

You can find plenty of methods of starting up coaching such as Ability. A Couple of that can be mentioned here temporarily:

Bodily practice

The debut into agility teaching really should focus on physical workout routines. In case the handler has ample attention to devote about training that the dog, then age doesn't a longer thing because it's the state that'll rule. Simple workouts such as skipping or leaping may possibly agitate canine and invite one to proceed just a tiny bit. For dogs, these drills are a lot easier to complete as they've sufficient power to utilize.

Permit him to perform

Like instructing small kiddies, the simplest way to ease coaching for youthful dogs is always to twist the drills to some succession of games. Most dogs are effective in passing through channels and chutes take advantage of the chance and also present the tunnels, barriers along the practice field as huge drama earth.

This process will make optimistic opinions on him that can additionally prepare him for upcoming coaching.

Boost his agility

Should you never own a decent space for establishing barrier courses, it's wise to utilize specified games which likewise motivate agility. Uncomplicated equipment such as improvised walls or tunnels can possibly be forced to fortify coaching.

Maintain it brief

Canines do not experience fire the moment it regards tasks nevertheless they have the inborn urge to please their owners. It follows they don't-get committed unless they've been rewarded permanently activities they've manufactured and which you just show your own prefer to their own activities. Their attention span is likewise not a lot of in order that they weren't able to last training to get lengthy hrs.

If you would like to begin preparing your pet for your agility, then set the principle you need to continue to keep every session along with just about every lesson as long as you possibly can. That you really do not need in order to complete all in just one sitting down. You must split each drill to segments which canine might easily comprehend. Never-ending using a destructive observe. Consistently guarantee that canine completes each practice together with compliments.

Coaching your pet to agility doesn't lie about how older or younger child could be, it is located at the base of responsiveness, liberty, push to perform independently and also to stick to the control, and also your urge to operate together with him together with adequate endurance and comprehension of his abilities.

HUNTING DOG TRAINING

Adult men count upon dogs to regain their own kills. With them, the hunter might need to accomplish all of the tasks without no assurance they will soon be bringing something dwelling by the close of your afternoon. To make the job simpler, the hunter demands the aid of the good --skilled dog.

However, not all of the pet stains can possibly be accommodated to looking performs along with just special training which promotes looking capabilities could draw about the finest at a dog.

However, hunting puppies aren't backyard varieties you might possess once you desire. They're qualified and skilled nicely because of the requirements of all hunting. And training to that hunting puppy strains is quite a boring and considerable process which demands patience and knowledge out of the coach and also appropriate features from the canine.

What's the most suitable breed?

As stated previously, perhaps not all of the dogs are all appropriate for pets searching for. You will find now dog strains specializing within the job and possess a history of the specific assistance for the men. In summary, they are adapted for the sort of performs usually desired in searching for.

A searching dog that can respond most useful to coaching will be strains such as retrievers, spaniels, and tips - all that contain abilities that can be particular with their own strains. It's up for the coach to hone their own abilities and work with them to get his or her right intentions.

Generally speaking, searching canines possess great awareness of scent for monitoring functions. Additionally, searching canines ought to be appropriate for outside pursuits and may readily be prepared for the training. The optimal/optimally applicant for pet training hunting can be that a dog with everyone the said faculties. Even the absolute most often encountered possibilities as searching canines include Labradors, Beagles, Bloodhounds, and Dachshunds.

So what puppy to buy?

One particular simply can not have yourself a whole grown puppy and be expecting to react properly to coaching. The optimal/optimally option is that a puppy as it's only started forming its behavior. In addition, you are in need of your pet dog that's affinity into his handler. This wouldn't grow by itself. This means you've got to train your dog at least train along with your furry friend using an expert coach.

Exactly what actions usually are included in this practice?

You will find just six standard actions a fantastic hunting puppy needs to grasp. All of these are the following:

a) Retrieving

b) Marking

c) Quartering

d) Shaking

e) Following hand signals

f) Steadying

How about rifle flame and odor?

You will find dogs who are more sensitive or fearful of hearing rifle flames. Thus it must become acclimatized throughout instruction. On average, that is attained by conditioning your pet via a metering direction of introducing gunfire together side match birds.

This practice will definitely enable your puppy to correlate gun firing games. In case the gunfire has been discovered, the canine is going to be aware there is a match. Once regaining the match, your pet will anticipate another gunfire.

On the opposite side, monitoring is dependant on after scent. You will find just as far odor since you can find games thus don't forget to prepare your puppy on the specific odor. In the event you'd like one to search deer then you should have him accustomed to deer odor.

Canine practice looking is quite a bit tougher compared to several other designs of dog training. However, in case your fire is searching you'd definitely necessitate the help of the well-trained dog.

WHAT TRAININGS ARE INVOLVED IN RESCUE DOS TRAINING

Canine is man's closest friend for many explanations, included in this would be your pet's capacity to function as very helpful throughout instances of catastrophe. Much like obedience training and agility teaching, you'll find plenty of fundamentals from several kinds of dog-training has to be detected when contemplating preserving dog training.

Obedience Coaching

Rescue canines ought to be slaughtered on all occasions due to the fact any misbehavior may cause beating the role of preventing. The custom of controls such as sit, come, remain, and also run exercises ought to be adequately attained to make sure the return of their dog into the handler along with also his orders.

Agility Instruction

Agility coaching isn't just precious for a sport dog, but it's likewise very helpful for canines who are meant for saving performs. In its essential awareness, agility coaching may help to develop canine allowing him to execute extremely tough activities that could even be struck throughout fabrication functions. Together with the help of the fantastic coach, canine ought to be in a position to negotiate quite a few barriers in just about virtually any agility coaching exercises.

Retrieving

The rescue will work demand somewhat sizable work out of regaining skills. In truth, it's ostensibly regaining an individual or things that really need rescuing. As a way to clinic canine inside such a job, '' he needs to get a set of regaining exercises which may include things like strengthening timber, leather along with other items employing the"fetch" control.

Suitable placement Whilst at coaching

Placing in saving training ostensibly states your pet's answer regarding certain essentials of the particular physical exercise. This is eased using a fantastic mixture of inductive and compulsive coaching.

Coaching for placement needs to start off early if your puppy is a pet. Additionally, there are two types of placement - that the heels and entrance standing. The prior ostensibly usually means that your pet needs to stand parallel into the coach's left-foot whereas the latter ensures that your pet needs to stand before this handler when after an imaginary line passing amongst your bottoms of their handler.

You will find just two techniques for preparing the puppy for your most suitable place to consider. The compulsive procedure and also the inductive procedure. The method, if useful for the front location, will guide your pet to keep before this handler.

When found along with a different control, the state"sit" the exact same basic principle applies- that the handler really should help canine sit and stand front of him parallel into his left foot as soon as the heels posture continues to be questioned.

The inductive procedure, on the flip side, needs the usage of pet food or treats in conditioning that the answer of their puppy for each position. By way of instance, a handler may provide a cure to your pet canine before committing a control. In case your pet is willing and chooses the incentive, then the handler really should deliver a control such as arrive, down or sit before committing your puppy a cure. However, this would just be awarded a reward for after given order.

Even though physiological guidance can be employed from the method, it will just be managed securely and softly although not in an otherwise unpleasant and injuring fashion. Any unpleasant manners can eventually be more rigorous for your own practice.

Rescue canine training isn't simply one practice; it needs that the canine to perfect all kinds of coaching though having the ability to use the learned behavior as an instant character.

HOW TO PREPARE YOUR DOG

there are 3 sorts of guidance puppies - that the pet, both the directing pet and also the ceremony pet. All possess precisely the exact reasons, to simply help people who have disabilities together with their daily life's everyday activities. Service-Dogs proceed over and above helping individuals who have sight or hearing handicaps.

They can be skilled since seizure answer mobility or dogs aid puppies based upon the distinctive coaching the master requirements. However, canines may just reach this sort of service should they've received appropriate support pet coaching.

Coaching

You will find just two kinds of coaching Service-Dogs: self-training and application coaching.

Self-training, such as many types of dog training, is eased from the dog owner. When it might be tougher when employing an expert dog trainer itself training can boost the partnership and interdependence of their owners as well as the canines.

Lots of canines can be educated to receive services that will work. A few individuals decide to coach their older pets as acceptable spouses notably Id your pet has shown several trends to turn into very good in medical condition aid. However, many individuals attain their canines out of pet breeders together with the training that the pet for support inside their own heads.

Handlers of canines may investigate several methods and processes of preparing your pet puppy for this specific intent. Additionally, there really are a lot of online tools and literature that is written about how best to prepare a puppy for an agency that will work. However, many individuals decide to seek the services of professional associations specializing within a particular field to get the job in their opinion.

The most important downside is the dog could learn over the speedier speed because of exceptionally complex methods that these associations possess. However, instruction ceases whenever the canines were shipped for their own owners unless canine owners are somewhat knowledgeable about such coaching. To get owner-trained canines, however, coaching in no way ceases.

But in the event the master buys your pet puppy from the breeder using the intent of creating a service-dog outside of it, then the breeder will give earlier coaching on essential commands including sit, remain no. Afterward, the proprietor could fill at the more modern controls which he requirements such as opening up the doorway or turning the lights off.

On the opposite side, program-trained canines really are notably trained and bred to receive services that will work. Commonly, those dogs have been educated for at least annually to receive acclimatized on exclusive conditions and visitors to whom they truly are skilled to reply.

Coaching can possibly be handled in many of means. In the united states of America, coaching can possibly be managed to picking out prison offenders. This technique was demonstrated to be of fantastic significance since offenders could ease appropriate practice whilst accentuating their own paychecks abilities from the procedure.

To avail of a service, the applicant has to undergo a program and appraisal procedure. Next, the upcoming owner is going to need to become recorded in the ready list as your pet dog fit to your particular services will be staying skilled. Such canines can possibly be awarded without control whereas a few establishments will probably demand the handler to cover a few penalties together with or without fiscal assistance is given.

When the dog owner accomplishes his pet, he's got to do the job well with canine for someday for him accustomed to how that the brand new handler copes using instruction. It can require a couple of months up for months. Your pet should be delivered straight back into the practice company to upgrade coaching.

Support dog-training doesn't merely produce canines which may function as great aid to all those who using disabilities. In addition, they are excellent psychological supports along with companions.

THE BENEFITS OF A VISITING DOG

Most pet breeds may experience therapy coaching. However common possibilities for coaching comprise strains that possess substantial temperance given that they must utilize people they aren't acquainted with.

Treatment puppies have been utilized in hospitals ended up mostly that the patients would be the kiddies and the older. The handler and your puppy will offer the sufferers having adequate care and things to do that'll enable them to drift off in the current issues within their own lives.

However, remedy puppies aren't just precious in hospitals, but the relaxation they supply is likewise crucial parts in additional remedy centers such as nursing facilities, colleges, mental organizations, and retirement houses.

A seeing pet may likewise assist in altering the regular every once in a while. Therapy might be rather monotonous for a lot of men and women ergo the demand for the reversal of tempo will probably consistently bring something favorable regarding this remedy. Plants may also make the individual feel depressed or alone as they make consequences out of the unsuccessful notions of their sufferers.

Remedy dog-training calls for specializations that are suspended on dog training that is fundamental. Therefore, coaching with this particular job involves the should produce behaviors in your pet who are of terrific assistance to people who're experiencing remedy. So, essential dog-training isn't going to suffice whether the canine should exhibit different duties such as performing a variety of functions and interacting very well using your own individual.

Canines can additionally invite the individual to eventually become less lively and much more reactive and lively throughout and following visitations. Therapy teaching may likewise aid your pet amuse the affected individual; nevertheless, they can either offer diversion or fun out of the discomfort and distress now seasoned.

Occasionally when individuals really are ailing their demand for love, attention and support simply do not move over what many know just as ordinary. They want a lot more. Regrettably, not many folks have some time and the endurance to address those who're sick, either disordered or ill. However, canines when well-oriented to pet treatment training can fortify the physical and psychological reinforcement which the majority of folks couldn't present.

The form of practice in which therapy puppies experience has been notably produced and changed in many different pieces of training to meet the demands known as in predicaments that normally occur throughout hospital visitations. Their coaching will equip you with all the proper abilities allowing strangers to enjoy your own corporation. To present enjoyable adventures, many therapy puppies have been willing to perform tricks and performances which the viewer will probably enjoy.

This type of coaching may state your puppy to dismiss matters such as hospital kits, those who are maybe not the field of noise and therapy. Not only that, they are skilled to assist with fundamental actions such as simple pursuits. However, they shouldn't be mistaken for using dogs.

All these would be the canines, and that can be under regulations to help those that have disabilities. More frequently than not they focus on a consistent foundation. Treatment puppies tend to be somewhat more similar to individuals for patients and also maybe not very dogs who will follow along with help men and women who have disabilities together with their day-to-day activities.

Remedy dog-training is reasonably unpopular nevertheless the assistance of this pet because of this particular specific purpose is useful for a great number of decades.

Coaching of remedy puppies differs from condition to say however, it's general principle a therapy D-G should get a certificate of fantastic citizenship until it might go into the appropriate coaching and support. Accreditation in addition to training can possibly be gotten from neighborhood therapy pet training courses or creature shelters. After receiving this certificate, remedy coaching to your own canine will start.

WHY THE USE OF A TRAINING DOG COLLARS SOMETHING COUNTERPRODUCTIVE

Thus, previous to one select your pet dog receiver collar, then it's advised to get your homework so your puppy's relaxation wouldn't be compromised.

We, individuals, frequently overlook that canines really are humans also. Many canines are extremely competitive and tricky to restrain, a few are comical also presents us a lot relaxation and happiness others are still only laidback and forth won't experience training plus a few are still inherently rapidly learners even though some are still slow learners.

Many handlers, on the opposite side, insufficient adequate wisdom regarding the particular collars which could do the job nicely with your own canines. As an instance, the favorite option of collar these times will be the pet collar owing to the remote accessibility for dogs that offer steady"instruction" for much as soon as the dog owner isn't all around. Though this might be considered a favorite alternate to old-fashioned canine training collars, so lots of individuals simply do not completely know its own disadvantages.

Coaching collars had been devised to acquire enough hands across the canines, however, many folks don't abide by the fundamentals of that equipment. Choke or string sockets, as an instance, are among those exact primary tools formulated to aid decrease the stress between dog and man.

These are quite embarrassing for dogs just as far as with skin lesions could make someone feel bloated. The guideline so you can get the most suitable in shape of the collar on the puppy is allowing 2 to 3 inches difference between your connected collar as well as the throat.

Quick-fixes for behavior control tend to be somewhat more common than less likely to use and contribute to over-dependence to restrain apparatus. While undertaking this the long way seems to demonstrate to become valuable.

Even if it turns out to become productive in bringing its intention to divert your dog from barking- that the consequences are less excellent. Exactly why? As canine begins to get rid of its own confidence.

Canine collar collars supply this control. As the aim is commonly well - to - eliminate unwelcome (but instinctual) behaviors of these dogs such as for instance - that the practice of instruction may be erroneous and violent of their pet's flaws and also the various tools are taken for coaching aren't well-adapted towards the requirements of their canine.

You will find a few rather boring reasons concerning the reason why collars can possibly be, on occasion, counterproductive. For you personally, you will find those who only do not require the additional time and energy to assess whether the collar is not. With inappropriate fitting, then the collar may pinch skin (notably the Martingale collar) and scrape it inducing burning off stains.

trainers, especially people that aren't professionals within the area, often confuse pet training together with all control. In virtually any dog-man group, the individual consistently possesses the should add manage. This isn't actually awful except sometimes, the person abuses the accused of management.

However, you'll find those who snore and abuse the choke collars. Many handlers are therefore unpleasant that lots of dogs undergo throat damages and also some choke into departure. In summary, the utilization of this kind of collars is incredibly dangerous, even maybe counterproductive.

Still, another reason dog feeders might possibly be potentially counter-productive is the focus on the rule of fear and pain instead of on the subject. Digital training collars do the job by delivering digital shocks into canine sporting it or disagreeable noise which could dissuade your pet from barking.

#Lifestyle

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thanatle · 4 years

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Val & Bhald in the market choosing an attire/equipment for Val, which hat/pair of gloves look better, which one is more practical/affordable/comfortable/better looking, better a traditional mage robe or something else? Is this ok?

Requested by @valentine--heart from a while ago. Also, decided to have a small cameo appearance. ^ ^ Sorry this took so long.

................................................................................................................................

“What is it?” Alphinaud inquired when he realized that Valere had stopped following after him. He returned to her side, looking at the stall she was focused on, trying to see what might have caught her attention.

The owner has finished with his recent customer and looked up towards them, his expression changing from wariness to bewilderment. “I…I remember you!”

Alphinaud ready himself to intervene when Valere nodded.

“Aye. It has been many years, sir.” She offered a soft smile.

“Indeed. Five years, no? I have not seen you nor your sea wolf sister since before the Battle of Carteneau. To this day, it prides me that I sold gear to two of the Twelvesblades.”

After van Baelsar’s defeat, Alphinaud wasn’t surprised to hear another mention about Valere being part of the warriors of light who fought alongside his grandfather. However, it did surprise him to hear of a ‘sea wolf sister’. Valere never mentioned any family relations.

“How fares her?” The owner questioned.

“I know not.” Valere looked at the ground. “Now it is I who looks for her.”

“You found each other once. You will again.”

“I pray so.” Valere raised her hand in polite goodbye before turning to head in the direction she and her Elezen companion had been going.

Alphinaud hurried to keep up with her stride. “Who does he speak of? Valere?”

It was not her intention to be rude. Yet, the present blurred to her mind as she returned to memories of a much different time. She could barely hear herself answer him.

“He speaks of Bhaldthota. My sister, though we did not share blood.”

….................................

“Bhaldthota, this isn’t necessary!” Valere protested as the sea wolf dragged her throughout the crowded market.

“Nonsense!” Bhaldthota barked with her usual laughter. “Adventurers must look the part if they are to be taken seriously. You don’t need people assuming you’re a sea maid who foolishly wandered too far from the waves. Now…where is that stall at?”

They nearly past it when Bhaldthota noticed the sign, pivoting on her heel to head inside, tugging Valere close behind her. Valere muttered curses under her breath.

“Language!” Bhaldthota teasingly mimicked the tone of Valere’s grandmother, Thea.

The other scoffed, jerking her hand free before she nervously pulled at the hood-like cap she wore. Thankfully, it remained in place and kept her forehead hidden. Valere’s fears grow since arriving to the main streets of Limsa Lominsa. The Garlean Empire was growing as a threat and, while she knew most Eorzeans were unaware of the Garlean third eye, she didn’t want hers to be seen.

“You again,” the owner frowned when he realized who entered. He ignored the sea wolf’s grin and gave Valere a look over. “I take it that you are her missing friend? Mind you, if you are as difficult a customer as she was, I’m kicking you both out.”

Valere grimaced. “I deeply apologize for my sister’s display. She may not speak like a pirate but she kept the manners of one.”

“I am no pirate.” Bhaldthota spat. “And attempting to barter is not being difficult.”

The man released a tired sigh. He drummed his fingertips across the countertop he stood behind. “How much do you plan to spend? And what is your class?”

“Black mage.” Valere answered.

She pulled a small coin pouch from the inside of her sleeve and tossed it to him. The owner raised an eyebrow before emptying the contents onto the countertop. While the pouch didn’t contain her entire funds, the amount it carried had been carefully picked to show she was capable of buying suitable gear.

When he finished counting, he gave a nod and motioned to a selection of robes and other gear. “The prices are as marked and will not change.”

Bhaldthota kept a keen eye on the owner before he huffed and returned all the coins to the pouch and tossed it back to Valere. Then, he dismissed them when a highlander woman with an axe entered. Bhaldthota eyed the woman’s weapon in admiration before Valere chide her. The sea wolf shrugged it off before making her way to the black mage gear.

“What do you think of this?” Bhaldthota poked at a dark robe with sparkles on it that resembled stars.

“I thought I must look the part of an adventurer and not a fool.” Valere frowned. Most of the robes, hats, and gloves were within her price range. She just didn’t know where to begin.

“Perhaps the robes, first.” Bhaldthota suggested.

That’s when they quickly realized a problem. Valere was Garlean, but she easily passed as a highlander in appearance. Meaning that many of the robes were too short for her height except for two that fell to her ankles when worn. Valere considered the price of each before handing both to Bhaldthota.

“I can use one as my main and keep the second as a spare.” She explained. “I have enough for them.”

“Are you sure about the darker robe? It is leather and feels heavy.” Bhaldthota knew well that Valere could walk through a snowstorm without feeling a thing but wearing gear like this in warmer climates and battle might affect her.

“That’s why it will be my spare for now. Unless I’m fortunate enough to stay thin as an Elezen, I can’t be choosy with my gear if I hit another growth spur or gain more curves.”

Valere was ready to return to the stall owner but Bhaldthota insisted they find a couple more items for her. She was kind of grateful, after finding a hat that matched the robe she would use as her main gear. But she failed to find anything else…at least anything that wouldn’t provoke Bhaldthota into bartering.

It was beginning to get hot as noon approached. Valere carefully wiped at her forehead beneath the cap, careful to keep it in place. She noticed the highlander who entered after them watching her. Feeling a bit unease, Valere quickly took the items from Bhaldthota and hurried to the owner.

“Did you find everything ok?” He asked. “I know most of those robes aren’t designed for highlanders.”

“Yes. These should last me a while.”

He laughed. “Few things last for adventurers. Ah! I’ll half the price of the hat since you had enough sense to pick it with its matching robe.”

Suddenly, a half-staff was placed onto the countertop. A headband with a unique metal design was tossed beside it. Bhaldthota plucked out her own coin pouch, picking out the exact sum for both and handed it over to the owner.

The man eyed her, unamused, but still counted to make sure everything was in order. “May you both have a pleasant day.”

Valere thanked him and waited until they were outside. “What’s the headband for?”

“I think I can…adjust it for you.” Bhaldthota flipped the accessory over and ran her thumb along the leathery back. “It might even be better if you wear this headband under any hat. At least, when you’re in battle.”

Valere blinked as it dawned on her what the sea wolf meant. She had never been in actual combat before, so the thought of losing whatever covered her third eye had not occurred to her. She smiled, glad her adopted sister still watched out for her.

Little did they know, their words had been overheard when the highlander left the stall. She watched them for a moment before heading off in the other direction.

#valere galilea #Bhaldthota Doenkoenwyn #alphinaud leveilleur #Nei - someone she once knew

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rainbowsinthestorm · 5 years

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Chapter Seven

Summary: Gideon turns up at Leo’s door, demanding Eva returns to the palace. Will Leo give in or will he let Eva stay with him until she is ready to return?

Disclaimer: I don’t own the characters or the dialogue. They are owned by Pixelberry. I’m just borrowing them :) the only characters I own are the ones created by me :)

I hope you like the chapter, and if you do, like, comment or reblog! Your feedback means everything to me.

If you want to be added, moved or removed from the tag list, just let me know!

All pictures credits to the owners.

Thanks to @darley1101 and @brightpinkpeppercorn for being my beta readers ❤️

Masterlist

Word count: 2386

Tag list: @maxbeauthot @sawyeroakleyscowboyhat @larryssunflower @silviasutton1989 @leelee10898 @agent-bossypants @mrsdrakewalkerblog @andy-loves-corgis @katurrade @speedyoperarascalparty @annekebbphotography @drakewalkerisreal @whenyourheartskipsabeat @liamxs-world @furiousherringoperatortoad @ladyangel70 @mfackenthal

Permanent tag list: @cora-nova @blubutterflyy @indiacater

Leo walks down the stairs, as calmly as possible, removing Eva’s bag and shoes from the entrance hall. There was no way he would know she was here. Unless he heard his bike leaving the palace. Cursing inwardly, he opens the doors to the entertainment room, depositing her belongings in there. Closing the doors behind him, he took a glance up the stairs and let out a breath he didn’t know he had been holding. She had listened to him and stayed in the room. At least she’d have time to pick a film or a book, he thought. He knew he should have been more careful and should have used a car instead of his bike. Then he might not have found her. A loud knocking sounds on his door followed by someone shouting his name.

“Leo. Open this door” Gideon yells.

Taking a deep breath and slowly exhaling, Leo walks towards the door, opening it just wide enough to take sight of the entourage gathered on his porch.

Upstairs, Eva tried to hear what they were saying but she was unable to hear anything through the door. Moving closer to the door, she cracks it open slightly to listen to them.

“Gideon, to what do I owe this pleasure?” Leo asks him.

“Don’t play dumb. I know she’s here. Bring her out, I’m taking her back to the palace.” Gideon responds.

“Brother, let her have this. One night of being normal. She’s been through a lot. The assassination attempt, watching Drake get shot in front of her, then losing him, not to mention the social season and the engagement tour and she’s barely had a minute to herself. Before she came here, she was a waitress. She had no knowledge of courtly protocol. Constantly being scrutinised by the other ladies and the press put her under enormous pressure, as did Bertrand letting her know not to let House Beaumont down, not to mention what happened with Tariq. It’s taken its toll on her. She needs this” she hears Leo say.

Creeping along the upstairs hallway, she stops at the top of the stairs, a clear view of the door but from where she was, Gideon wouldn’t be able to see her. She watches as Gideon shakes his head.

“You think I don’t know that? You think I don’t care about her?” Gideon thunders.

“I know you don’t. If you did, you wouldn’t have put her through what you did. Stringing her along through the engagement tour and offering to make her your mistress if you had to marry Madeleine. She deserves better than that. She deserves someone who wants to be seen with her, not hiding her away like some dirty little secret. You know, she told me once that Drake had told her during the engagement tour, he wanted nothing more than to be able to be seen with her in public, even with the scandal, but told her it wasn’t fair to her in case the press smeared her reputation even further. Why do you think she waited so long to tell you she was in love with him? She wanted to clear her name so she could be with him. It stopped being about you when you chose Madeleine. You humiliated her. She’ll never tell you this but by choosing Madeleine like that, she was humiliated and heartbroken that you believed the press. Despite everything you told her during your social season. Then making her participate in your engagement tour where she had to watch you and Madeleine pretend to be in love. You have no idea how she felt” he responds.

“Oh, and you do?” Gideon questions.

Leo shrugs. “Even if I don’t, I would never have put her through what you did”.

“I did it to keep her safe. I had no idea who was plotting against her and it was the only thing I could think to do to buy us time and figure it out. Now, enough of this. She is coming with me back to the palace, now”.

Leo takes one step closer to him. “No, Gideon, she’s not. Now, get out of my house” he orders.

“I’m not going anywhere unless I am taking Eva with me. If I have to drag her out of here then I will” Gideon retorts, taking a step closer to Leo.

“Over my dead body. You may be king but this is my house and she is staying here for as long as she wants” Leo yells, squaring his shoulders and bringing himself up to his full height.

Gideon goes to move past him but Leo sidesteps in front of him, stopping him. “Eva. Get out here now!” Gideon shouts.

“Bastien, get him out of here before I do something I regret” Leo said, turning away from Gideon, walking towards the stairs.

Before she can call out a warning, Gideon has launched himself across the room, tackling Leo to the floor. “What the hell, Gideon? Attacking when I have my back turned?” Leo yells, pushing Gideon away.

She watches as he stands brushing himself off. Bastien moves quickly to intercept, holding Gideon back.

“Back down, Gideon. This is a fight you can’t win. Now, get out” Leo spits, venomously.

Gideon struggles against Bastien’s hold, trying to get free. “Bastien, let go of me” Gideon orders.

She sneaks back along the corridor, heading back to the library before she is spotted by Leo. Slipping into the room, she silently closes the door behind her and resumes trying to decide on between a film or a book. Leo eventually comes back into the room.

“So... did you decide?” he asks her. He obviously wasn’t going to bring up what happened downstairs. She shakes her head, unable to decide between a movie or a book. Leo walks past her and grabs a movie off the shelf. Leading her out of the room and back down the stairs, he stops in front of the door she had walked past earlier. He opens the door, briefly entering the room and returning to where she was a few seconds later. “Before we watch the movie, do you want some food? There’s a Greek restaurant not too far from here that does a wonderful pastitsio, moussaka or gyros. And their baklava is to die for, if any of that sounds good”.

“Some food would be good, think I’ll have gyros and some baklava” Eva replies. He nods and pulls his phone out to make the order. As he does, she heads into the kitchen to get plates and puts them on the bench in the kitchen, grabbing cutlery on her way out and heads into the dining room to the bar to grab some glasses. As she is placing them down on the table, Leo enters the room.

“Food will be here shortly. Can I get you a drink?” Leo asks.

She nods. “I’ll have a whiskey please”.

He walks to the bar and grabs a bottle of whiskey, pouring two fingers into each of their glasses. Just then, there is a knock on the door. “That’ll be the food“ he says, placing the bottle back on the bar.

She stares at him. “You weren’t kidding when you said shortly”. He chuckles as he walks toward the front door, pulling his wallet out as he does so. Shortly after he returns into the dining room.

“It has its perks being part of the royal family. Plus I’m a valued customer. I use them every time I’m here”. He walks behind Eva, pulling her chair out for her. “Your seat, m’lady”. She rolls her eyes as she sits down. He disappears into the kitchen for a few minutes and comes back with two plates. Placing her plate in front of her, he walks round to the other side of the table and takes a seat across from her. “There’s no need to stand on ceremony, Eva. Dig in” he said, picking up his knife and fork. Picking hers up, she takes a bite of her gyro and her eyes go wide. Leo chuckles at her expression. “It’s good, right?”.

She nods her head as she swallows. “That has to be the best gyro I’ve had”.

After they had eaten, he leads her back to the room he had disappeared into earlier. Opening the door, he gestures for her to enter the room. She walks into the room taking in her surroundings. Low-slung brown leather couches were coupled with a rustic coffee table on a white rug. Mismatched end tables supported various lamps. The room was functional but also devoid of any personal items. There was also a fireplace in the room, where split wood and kindling were stacked on the grate. In one corner of the room sat a unit which housed a Blu-ray player and a games console. Above the unit, attached to the wall, was the biggest television she had ever seen. Leo chuckles as he notices how wide her eyes go when she spots it.

“I’ll go and grab some snacks. Make yourself comfortable and I’ll be back shortly” he said, exiting the room and heading into the kitchen. Settling down on the sofa facing the TV, she curls up in the corner waiting for Leo to come back. Leo walked back into the room a few minutes later carrying a variety of snacks and depositing them on the table. Walking over to the TV unit, he grabs the film and turns the TV and bluray player.

Eva busies herself by opening the snacks he had brought. “Leo, where’s the popcorn bowl?”.

He turns back to look at her. “In the kitchen. I think it’s in one of the cupboards”. She heads into the kitchen to find a bowl for the popcorn. As she is looking, she hears Leo walking out of the entertainment room.

“Movies all ready to go, have you found the popcorn bowl?” he calls.

“Not yet” she calls back, opening another cupboard door above her. Spotting the bowl she was looking for, she sighs. Of course it would be on the top shelf. Stretching up on her tiptoes, she tries to grab the bowl. Muttering in frustration, she climbs up on the bench just as Leo walks in.

“What are you doing?” he asks, causing her to yelp in surprise and lose her balance as she slips off the bench. Leo dashes across the room, catching her just in time and setting her back on the floor.

“I was trying to get a bowl for the popcorn. Of course, you had to put it on the highest shelf” she responds, gesturing up towards the cupboard.

He shakes his head as he reaches up to get it. “All you have to do is ask, short stuff, and I’d have got it for you”.

Stalking past him, punching his shoulder as she does so, she heads back towards the entertainment room, dropping down on to the sofa, tucking her legs underneath her and resting her chin on her palm, her elbow resting on the arm of the sofa.

Leo walks back in, placing the bowl on the table. She watches as he fills the bowl and then sits down next to her, his arm stretched out along the back of the sofa. He grabs the bowl placing the popcorn between them. She shifts slightly to get a better view of the TV as the movie starts. Her eyes widen as the titles scroll.

“You chose this?” she inquires, looking at him quizzically.

“I did. What’s wrong with it?” he responds.

“Nothing. I just never would have pegged you as a Matt Rodriguez fan” she said, shrugging her shoulders. Eva returns her attention to the screen, as the movie starts, watching as the main character opens the bullet chamber of his revolver. His eyes count the bullets before his hands close the chamber again. She watches him take a deep breath and wait for a moment. He kicks the door to a room open which flew open with a loud bang and he storms in with his gun in his hands. The man he was pursuing froze in his spot before pulling out his gun and firing a shot at the main character. Eva flinches at the sound of the gunshot, tearing her eyes away from the screen. Shifting her position slightly, she stretches her legs out in front of her, placing the popcorn on the table, eyes looking back at the TV but not really watching the movie.

Leo doesn’t notice her flinch and his eyes remain glued to the screen as the sounds of the gunshots from the movie continue throughout the room. She must have dozed off as the next thing she felt was Leo’s arms wrap around her back and under her legs as she was lifted from the couch. Opening her eyes, she glances around the room, noticing how dark it was outside. “Leo? What time is it?” she asks him.

“A little after ten pm. You fell asleep about half an hour into the film” he tells her, exiting the room and walking up the stairs with her still in his arms. Entering his room, he places her down on the bed. “You take my room tonight, Eva. I’ll sleep in the spare room”.

She shakes her head. “I can’t take your bed, Leo. I’ll sleep downstairs” she informs him, sliding off the bed.

He puts out a hand to stop her. “No, I want you sleeping up here. It’s safer. Not that anyone knows you are here, but still, it will put my mind at rest. Besides, I’m not tired yet so I was going to watch another movie. I’ll take one of the beds in the spare room. It’s comfy enough for one night” he said.

“Thank you, Leo” she responds, reaching up to hug him. He chuckles as he returns the hug. Eventually, Eva pulled herself from his embrace. “Thanks for this, Leo. I really needed it” she said, climbing into the bed.

“You’re welcome, little one. See you in the morning. Goodnight, Eva” he replies, walking to the door. Glancing back at the bed, he sees she is already asleep and exits his room, closing the door behind him with a soft click.

#trr drake x mc #drake walker #the royal romance #trr drake #choices drake x mc #playchoices #choices #choices trr #trr #trr fanfic #trr mc #drake x eva #gideon x eva #cordonia #choices drake #choices fanfiction #playchoices fic #the royal romance fanfic #At The Beginning

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noutenki-scans · 5 years

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Jun, do you think you could walk us through how you buy your doujins? I've been wanting to buy some kros doujins FOREVER, and I know there are multiple tutorials/advice online but I want to get advice from someone who's actually gotten their doujins successfully shipped to them! Is there a website you recommend using, or a tutorial online that you follow? Would appreciate it greatly ʕ•ᴥ•ʔ

How I order doujinshis online?I’m always happy to help a fellow karaoso enthusiast! I hope you have basic knowledge of Japanese so you can navigate easily. Otherwise chrome automatically translating the site works too I guess.

This post may end up pretty lengthy since I babble a lot. So continue ahead only if you want to.

Many sites don’t do international shipping so you will need to find yourself a proxy service or a freight forwarding site. Freight forwarding is the cheaper option of the two. Tenso is a fan favourite it seems but I use TensoJapan cause the fees are cheaper. You’ll need to provide your ID verification to use either of their services though. As for proxy services. I’ll mention some later below. It seems TensoJapan also provides this service now. ^^

The sites I use varies. If possible I like to support the artist and use the link they provide in their pixiv post for that particular work. (Usually toranoana) However if it’s quite old, chances are that it’s already sold out.

Toranoana A great site to buy new doujinshis. It’s far the easiest site to navigate and has the best range in terms of new books. Most of the products also have the synopsis and a few sample pages as well! The go to place to really support the artist! This post explains really well on how to shop there! Really use that auto translation on chrome to your advantage if you need to! If you are soley looking for KaraOso djs, here has all the instock books for that pair. And here is the full list, although most are out of stock lmao. (good reference when you want to buy second hand books though!)

If you plan to use a freight forwarding service, you need to create a Toranoana account yourself. When you write in the detail, make sure to input the Japanese address that you were given for shipping details. For when Toranoana charges you for your order, it’s quite funny cause they charge you then return the money straight away (I guess it’s to check if your card works) and when your order is ready to be sent, they’ll take the payment properly. They don’t accept PayPal as payment though. So if you don’t have a credit card, you’ll have to use a proxy service instead.

For proxy service, try using the one toranoana is advertising at the moment, AOCS. AOCS creates a toranoana account for you when you register with them and also you don’t need to provide them your ID for verification! At checkout you just need to select the acos option for delivery! from here, AOCS will pay for your goods on delivery and send you an invoice. They accept PayPal as payment. Once that’s all paid up, they will send you your goods. :)I’ve tried it and yes, it’s very simple to use and convenient but the shipping is a lil pricey since they only send by EMS. Fast shipping though!

Pros:

Easy navigation. They have tags for coupling names and filters to narrow down your search.

Free domestic shipping if you spend over ¥9720.

Toranoana is fast with processing your order and getting it to your freight forwarder/proxy service.

Cons:

Once it’s out of stock, it’s gone. You can apply for a re-sell or set an notification alarm if it ever restocks.

A bit pricey because you pay for tax.

They may cancel your order if they notice you are using a proxy. I don’t know if they still do, it’s just what I’ve heard over the years. For sure tenso and tensojapan are in the green though!

Ok, so you really want a particular work by a certain circle, or just their works in general but it’s out of print…Usually this is the case for me when I see all those out of print djs on Toranoana…You can try your luck in 2nd hand stores! Or even Yahoo auctions.

Yahoo auctions would be the last place I’d go for, cause ordering from there can kill your wallet. Especially if you buy from different sellers. You’ll have to pay for domestic shipping on each of the auctions. There are proxy services designed for Yahoo auctions, but the one I have tried is DeJapan. Their service is good and their processing and shipping is fast too! My order came 3-4 days after it was sent! They only send by EMS though. Quite pricey but reliable. if you are still interested in purchasing osmt djs from yahoo auctions, try ‘おそ松さん同人’ in the search bar.

MandarakeSells second hand goods. I like this site a lot! They do international shipping with several options too. So you can skip the whole middle-man business and having the option to choose for the slower, but cheaper postage.The search bar isn’t as friendly but if you know what you are after, or the circle you are interested in, then it’s a lot easier to navigate. Just be aware mandarake has different stores so if you end up getting anything from this site, make sure to check which store it’s in! Try getting all your items from the same store, otherwise you’ll be paying a lot for shipping!! When I make orders I like to at least group 5 djs from each store if I can’t get it all from the same store. But I LOVE their quality!! Their second hand stuff look pretty much brand new! Unless stated otherwise in their listing. I’ve had some djs where it didn’t even look opened!

Pros:

Usually cheaper than buying new.

Can find the older titles here.

Tax free.

Has English support and navigation.

Relatively fast processing time.

They send internationally!

Cons:

No consolidation. Each store=different order=more shipping cost.

Second hand goods. So it’s not brand new.

Price can be ridiculously expensive based on its rarity/popularity even though it’s not a new book. I actually bought 2 titles for 4k yen each when the original price is just over 1k. But I really wanted those books soo….I just bit the bullet lol.

SurugayaA real gem! ♡My favourite second hand store for djs~ Their navi is a lot better than mandarake and has way more items! This is the place to go for any rare goods~ here is the search page for karaxoso.

Did I tell you they have free domestic shipping if you spend over ¥1500?? That’s like $15 lol. They do however have a processing fee if your order is under 5k yen. It’s under ¥300 so still very cheap! Surugaya often have ‘time sales’ and campaigns too! So it’s good to keep an eye out. When you click on an item, there’ll be a red text saying “this product will have a time sale soon” if that’s the case. So if you time it right…maybe you can get it cheaper. But I had many djs go out of stock on me while I waited for a campaign to come (some items sell out within a couple of days) so I don’t risk it anymore if there are items that have only 1 in stock in my cart.

Also this is one of the stores where you can buy without a credit card and use PayPal instead! But if you are buying R18 goods, you can only pay by credit card. They don’t accept foreign credit cards apparently. I did have an order cancel on me when I paid by credit card and I got an email saying I used a foreign card and they can’t accept it. I’m still very gutted about that one. But I’ve also had successful orders using the same exact card…..so it’s really a gamble. PayPal as payment is friendlier I heard! But if you really want to buy r18 goods from here, may luck be on your side and hope they don’t detect your card. (or use a proxy service that allows you to buy R18 goods)

The other downside for this site is the waiting time. Surugaya also has many warehouses and so they have to wait for all the books to arrive in one place before they ship it out to you. But usually with my experiences it takes them about 4 days to complete my order and ship it out. But I did have orders take over a week to process before. As long as you don’t order during the busy times of the year it should be fine.

Pros:

Usually cheaper than buying new. (Most of the time the djs are cheaper than mandarake.)

Best range.

Often have sales and campaigns

Has English support (But they will answer in Japanese)

Free shipping on orders over 1.5k yen

Cons:

Slow processing time.

Like mandarake, some items are ridiculously expensive.

Your card may get declined for being a foreign card.

Note: Previously, I’ve noted you can use debit card as payment…but honestly? it’s kinda weird. From personal experience, make sure you have double the amount of money in your account of what you need to pay for. Until the day it’s ship it. Surugaya likes to take money from you…how should I say…twice(?). Like….how do I explain this…on the day you place the order, money is taken from your card. Your payment will appear as pending on your bank statement. But actually they don’t approve your payment until it’s all ready to be sent to you. On that day, they take the payment from your account again. Like. It’s weird. And if you don’t have that amount available on your card on that day, you get an email from customer service saying they couldn’t go through with the payment. That there was a problem. If you paid by paypal (using your debit card), they will retry the payment if you can provide them evidence that it wasn’t PayPal that made the error. If you paid by using credit card (with your debit) they will cancel your order since the only other option to send the money is by bank. So if you have enough money in your debit card to pay for your order twice, your payment will go smoothly. And that extra payment they tried to make? It won’t even appear on your statement lol. In the end that money isn’t taken from you, so don’t worry about them actually charging you twice for your order.I was so confused why my payments weren’t going through and I only found out by contacting both my card dealer and PayPal. I use my debit card for online purchases so I only put in the amount necessary you see…

Tldr; Surugaya tries to take money from you twice but only one goes through and you need enough funds for both in order for your transaction to go through smoothly if you are using your debit card.

#ask #anonymous #long post #please shut up jun #jun babbles

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sprintwebdesign · 5 years

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Design: 10 Tips for a Flawless Layout

Design: 10 Tips for a Flawless Layout https://ift.tt/2IXq9gI Mattie Reynolds

While each web designer or web development company has a different plan for building a website, there is a list of what to do in common for most such projects. We created this checklist that we made with the essential items in the construction of a good web interface that is consistent, easy to use and aesthetically pleasing.

Space between elements, personalized quality images, effective internal search tools, and creative ways to invite the user to the interaction. These are the elements that together define the user experience that accesses one of your pages.

Creating Infallible Layouts

We will present here ten elements that you should prioritize on your site, followed by practical examples of each of them and tips on how to use it in your next site creation project . We’ll see what little details make all the difference.

1. Spacing

Spacing is one of the most important elements in layouts . The space dictates the visual flow up to and speed of reading (or readability). Designers are beginning to use space in ways we have not seen on the internet in the past decade mainly because of the popularization of touch screens.

There should be a consistency in spacing and space relations. Similar elements should include similar spacing. The amount of space between the lines of a paragraph should follow a pattern (or proportions), as well as the size of the margin around the images.

Space is also important when creating a focal point for the perception of the interface. An image or block of text surrounded by white space may appear to be larger and more important than one allocated along with other blocks of information and in a tighter part of the layout.

It is also worth remembering that space should not necessarily be white. It refers to the absence of elements and may well be a dark background color or a well applied texture.

Choose the center element, such as a menu, form, or a featured image. White space can highlight this element in the visual hierarchy.

Make sure the information is organized in a way that includes consistent spaces between the elements. If a content block replicates across multiple pages and site sessions, its spacing must remain the same.

Make each button or block of content stand out with due weight in the information hierarchy.

Do not divert the user’s attention to unimportant blocks. One part of the layout should not dispute attention with another at the same time.

2. Navigation

Navigation should not be complicated! It should be easy to identify and use. It is also important to keep the navigation menus simplified, so they do not overload the user with a lot of information.

Web browsing also includes tools that help users stream through the site. Sites with parallax effect , for example, often include arrows that guide the user. A layout should be user-friendly . The easier it is for people to navigate your site, the more likely it is to get what you’re looking for before you leave.

Swing. The more menu items, the lower the depth, and the less, the more hierarchy levels displayed. Balance the navigation.

Use conventional navigation patterns . The user will not study a manual to learn how to use your site. The main menu of a site is in the header; the main logo is usually a link to the home; and so on.

Keep a standard for the weight and position of the links. The user expects to find a consistent experience. You also need to know at what level of the hierarchy a page is (the deeper, the more specific) and always have the option to return.

Give feedback. Tell the user where in the site he is currently browsing. Breadcrumbs are the most appropriate layout block for this – position them discreetly in a visible position without scrolling (above the fold).

Create interactive solutions with javascript and css – sticky headers, which remain on the screen as the user performs page scrolling, are a simple solution to keep browsing always within easy reach.

3. About Us

The “About Us” page should tell users who you are and what you do . It can be used to present the company’s philosophies and goals, or how the site was developed. It can also be the right place for positive testimonials and reviews of users and customers, as well as company success stories. This type of page can also serve directing the user to related pages and social networking profiles.

The biggest problem with the “about us” pages is that they tend to stay long and very descriptive. Keep the page as straightforward as possible; give users only the information they need to be interested in the business, not bored. Remember to keep the design interesting and invite them to get to know the rest of your site.

Use the “About Us” page to give your brand more personality. Photos of the team and place of business lend credibility to the brand. Consider an employee centered approach in the About Us and Team pages.

Tell your story. Storytelling is more than conveying information; it is surprising, provoking empathy and generating interest.

Remember that people today do not have that much time, so be brief and direct. Use image media and videos to communicate subjective values and sensations without prolonging too much.

Invite the user to know the rest of the site. Add links to strategic site sessions.

4. Contact

Contact information appears in two of the most common ways: at the top or bottom of the site or on the “Contact Us” page or similar.

Either of these ways can work well, depending on the information architecture of your site. The key is to do it in a highly visible way. Presenting information like phone, address or a form to contact the site owner is the best way to give legitimacy to your project. It is frustrating for the user to try to contact you and not succeed (unless it is purposeful).

Add contact information in places always visible. This information can be displayed in the form of links to planned actions (eg, Send a message, Make a call). Buttons for automatic message via WhatsApp have been gaining popularity in sites of various niches, especially for the mobile user .

If you get customers at a physical address, include the location (a map widget like Google Maps, for example, it’s fine), if you get a lot of contacts over the phone, leave the phone in a prominent area.

Consider adding a form so the user can send emails straight from your site (and do not forget the success and error pages).

5. Call to Action

What is the purpose of your site? Your website is the gateway to your business, and you should build it thinking about what it should be most efficient. Whether it is a sale of products, services or some information gathering, you must ensure that it is being designed to meet this conversion and the invitations to that interaction should be direct and obvious – no question.

Some of the tips we’ve given here help guide you in the right direction. Dropbox, for example, is very interested that you register early, so you already propose this right on the first page. And you, are you directing your homepage to get your conversion as fast as possible?

Direct and persuasive call-to-action writing . A striking title accompanied by a short and explanatory caption with an image, button or form.

Position the calls-to-action on the home page and above the fold.

Buttons should be of contrasting colors and say exactly what they are for: Buy Now, Participate, Download, Sign Up .

Conversion buttons can be repeated along the page if the user has not engaged at all.

6. Search

Not everyone has the time to search for specific content by site navigation, so search is such an important tool. Draw the search box in a discreet and easy-to-use form, but make sure the box is large enough and always visible. If you want an icon for the search use the magnifying glass without fear, it is a universal icon.

The most popular search box location (in the west) is at the top and the right.

Prioritize the simple and straightforward box design, which will be at the top of your page for search. Add advanced filtering options only when strictly necessary . Leave the search field visible whenever possible.

Do not forget the layout of the results listing.

Perform search tests, checking if the results are ideas for the search context. An example of a serious mistake would be a virtual store, whose search primarily presents blog posts rather than product pages.

7. Footer

The footer is a way to summarize your site and bring forward pages that relate to the institutional part of your company, such as social networks, address and contact. Because its location is at the bottom of the page, it is also the ideal space for a small site map, relevant links and a brief description of what the site is.

Make the footer simple and useful . When creating a footer that exposes links or buttons, the important thing is to be visually integrated with the site. It may even have a much more minimalist touch than the whole, but give it a personality.

Repeat information found elsewhere on the site (the search field on the site may be at the top of the page, in the main index, and again in the footer, for example).

Enter elements previously mentioned in this post if there is no other logical place for them in the layout.

See other footer tips in this cool post we have prepared.

8. Buttons

Every button on a website should be recognized as a button (know what Affordances are ). They must have the same effects regardless of their location or purpose. Creating a set of different buttons can be a challenging task in the case of sites with many clickable items. Consider creating a button kit to maintain consistency and visual cohesion throughout the site.

Do not forget to use statistics tracking tools like Crazyegg or Google Analytics to measure with A / B tests that button colors or sizes are giving more result.

Develop a unique set of buttons for your site that is easily replicated. It should be consistent across all pages.

Provide a large and comfortable click area. The mobile user should have no difficulties in touching.

Perform A / B tests to measure the efficiency of each button. Try changing the text, colors, and position in the layout, and measure the impact of those adjustments on the conversion rate.

9. Pictures

People love to see things in action. Create stunning visuals to please users on your site. Good pictures or illustrations are an easy way to do this. With a small set of great photographs you can display products, people, or anything to encourage the engagement of users in your website or app .

As the internet is at a stage where the weight of images is not a factor that compromises access to the site, we have more freedom to use higher resolution images, but remember to offer an alternative to mobile devices. Also be careful when using image banks ( stock images ) as a source for your site does not lose identity.

Look for a photographer or illustrator to develop and create a unique set of images. If using free stock image media, consider adding a color or effect filter so that they are, to a certain extent, unique to your site.

Offer a unique visual experience. Consider transitions and done in JavaScript or CSS.

Capriche in the resolution of the images , always with an eye on the final file size .

10. Web Fonts

Once upon a time … The time when the web was ordered by a restricted set of sources because the options that were recognized by most browsers were very limited (Arial and Verdana, who never?). Today this limitation no longer exists and we have great Open Source tools to use a much wider range of unique fonts like Google Web Fonts or Adobe Fonts .

However, native fonts are still very important for two reasons: compatibility and performance, so do not abuse loaded fonts and take advantage of those already available in the system. Webfonts can also be important for positioning the website in search engines (SEO) if used in place of images that would have text to say something.

Use a service with a library of free fonts, such as Google Web Fonts.

Avoid too many font variations in layout. The need to load multiple weights from the same typographic family can degrade the performance of the site.

Using webfonts to pass a message will usually be more effective than loading an image for the same purpose. Decrease page weight and better meet web accessibility standards.

Conclusion

These are 10 tips that we consider very important for the design in a blog project, virtual stores and institutional sites here in Man Machine. They will certainly help you in creating a layout that helps you achieve your brand goals and also serves the visitors.

To make an incredible layout you have to take into account the typography, colors in the interface and use a responsive design . But let’s take it easy, one step at a time. The basics you’ve already learned here

Make the best layout the world has ever seen. Do you have any tips to share with us? Leave in the comments!

The post Design: 10 Tips for a Flawless Layout appeared first on Web designing Bangalore.

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ingloriousblasters · 6 years

Text

Second Chances (Merle x OC) AU - Chapter Ten

Synopsis: Finding herself pregnant and unwed, Nora Buckley thought she’d never return to the small town of Redwater, Georgia. Five years later, life has brought her back to the town she swore she’d never go back to. In a hurry to find a place to live and a job to provide for her daughter, Anna, Nora reluctantly takes a position at the old Dixon farm on the outskirts of town, where she meets fellow Redwater outcast, Merle Dixon. Takes place in early 1960s.

A/N: So the song that is playing in this chapter is “I Want to be Wanted” by Brenda Lee. It took me forever to find an era appropriate song that I felt was needed for this scene. Hope it’s okay. And also, I know it’s probably unlikely for two people to fit on a tractor at the same time, but let’s suspend disbelief for a little bit? Thanks for reading!

Chapter Ten

“Your total is $1.50.” Nora told the balding old man. Digging into his khaki pants, held up by navy blue suspenders, the man fished out his money and handed it over.

“Thank ya so much, Miss,” he croaked out. “I do hope we’ll be seeing more of you. Nice change from the man usually here,” he winked at her. Nora gave a polite smile and turned around to the bed of Merle’s truck and grabbed some more vegetables to restock.

After Merle’s accident, Nora took over the farming duties, including driving two towns over into Greenwood for the weekend market. It was her third weekend there and she was finally getting the hang of things. The first time, Merle came with her to give prices on items and to help setup and breakdown the stand, which turned into small arguments between the two the entire day. Merle still acted like he didn’t have a hurt wrist and Nora kept having to keep her eye on him and the customers. She forced him to stay home the next time.

When the market ended, she boxed all the unsold produce back up into Merle’s old truck and folded up the small white table. Her total haul for the day was about ten dollars, which she knew would make Merle happy.

Nora found herself enjoying her role on the farm. No longer feeling like she was intruding on Merle’s life, she felt like they were sort of partners now. The farm their responsibility. She stopped by the dairy on her way home to get a pint of ice cream for them to celebrate with after dinner that night.

Pulling up the long gravel road, Anna and King ran up the hill with the truck to greet Nora.

“Mama!” Anna shouted at her over King’s barking.

“Hi, baby,” Nora answered. She slipped out of the driver’s seat and the two of them walked together to the back of the truck. “Were ya good for Merle today?” she asked.

“Yep. I got to pick the baby tomatoes.”

Nora smiled down at her daughter. Merle was going to get anyone he could out in the those fields while he was healing. Just as her mind thought about him, the rowdy farmer appeared from the front of the truck.

“How’d ya do, darlin?” he asked, adjusting the sling around his arm. A tick Merle had developed after being stuck in the thing for only a week.

“Not bad at all,” Nora responded and told him their total. Merle let out a happy holler and gave her a one armed hug, lifting and spinning her in the air for a couple seconds. He hadn’t forgotten about the car ride home from the doctor. As much as his brain was scrambled that day, he had meant what he said. Nora was the most beautiful woman he had ever met. It just took a good bump on his head to finally admit it to himself, and accidentally her. Merle wasn’t sure if Nora remembered or not, but he didn’t have the courage to bring it up.

Nora handed Anna the bag with the ice cream in it and yelled at her to put it straight in the freezer box as the little girl ran towards the house with the German Shepherd. Merle lifted the lightest box he found and helped Nora take the unsold produce back to the barn for storage.

When they finished, Nora told Merle she was going to head back to the shed for a second and would be back up to the house. Merle nodded at her as he took count of how much produce they had left. It angered him more than anything that he couldn’t be more help to her, only being able to pick a vegetable here and there. It amazed him that Nora took it all in stride, and he was very conscious of trying to control his temper around her. His anger only came out in the barn, nicks and knife markings covering one of the wooden beams the only evidence of his frustration. Nora’s dedication to the farm was worth far too much to him to go and ruin it.

They had dinner and ice cream on the back porch later that evening and Anna fell asleep on the faded wood, her head resting on the black and tan coat of her four-legged best friend.

“Ay, Bug,” Merle called to her. “Ya still alive down there?” he didn’t get a response and Nora laughed under her breathe.

“Well, I guess we better call it a day,” she said.

Merle smiled, putting out the butt of his cigarette with his boot. “Guess so.”

Nora picked up her daughter, whispered goodnight to Merle, and headed back down the pathway to their small dwelling. The sun set quickly as they left and Merle cleaned off the back porch as best he could, threw the leftovers out for King to eat, and went inside to get ready for bed. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed brown fur laying on the kitchen table. A stuffed teddy bear laid on its side, its beaded eyes staring back at him. Merle looked at the thing for a few minutes. The Dixon house never had toys in it, even when he and Daryl were kids. Unless you counted the chipped pieces of wood they would use as swords. Seeing something so normal in the abnormal farmhouse gave Merle a laugh. He may have hated the memories held in these walls, but the new ones were starting to outweigh the old.

Thinking the kid would want it for bed, he picked the bear up and headed down the now darkened path to the shed. He could see a dull light coming through the front door window and stopped in his tracks a few feet away. Nora stood in the middle of the shack, unbuttoning the top of her blouse. Merle scooted over by one of the oak trees and watched as her delicate hands slid down her body, button after button, revealing her white nylon bra. His grip on the bear tightened when Nora slid the thin fabric of her blouse off her shoulders. He couldn’t peel his eyes away from her, watching her maneuver around the small room. She turned herself away from where he knew the bed sat, and reached behind to unclasp the back of her bra. When she had the band undone, a strap slowly fell off her shoulder. Merle’s mouth went dry and he felt a tightness in his pants. Before he could see anything else he turned around, heading back towards the house. He set the bear back down on the table where Anna could see it in the morning and walked to his room. Sitting on the edge of his bed, Merle nervously adjusted the sling on his arm. Flashes of Nora’s bare skin running through his mind. He rubbed a hand over his face before laying down.

Ah, Dixon, whatta ya doin? he thought to himself. Ain’t no way she’s gonna want ya.

________________________

As August drew nearer, Nora took Anna into town to register her for Kindergarten at the elementary school. Entering the double red doors, the swift odor of old wood and tangy glue filled Nora’s head with nostalgia. In this building were some of the only happy memories she had of growing up in Redwater, before her mother went off the deep end, before her father passed away, and before Rodger showed up in her life. They walked into the front office hand in hand and a woman in her early fifties with thin, gray hair looked up from her typewriter when Nora introduced themselves and asked for a form. The woman gave her a knowing look, standing up from her desk and walking over to the metallic filing cabinet to grab a registration form.

Nora took Anna over to the line of chairs near the door of the office and began filling out the paperwork. She felt the cold eyes of the secretary on her as she wrote. Anna turned around in her seat and kneeled to look out the window of the office that led to the hallway. She rested her small arms on the ledge and looked up and down at the mostly bare beige walls. At her old school the walls were covered in bright papers with drawings from her and her classmates. She wondered if she would get to draw here too. Mama had mentioned she’d be starting school soon, but that it wouldn’t be like the daycare she was at in the city. There would be less kids in her class, but more kids of all different ages. She would go all day now and even get to ride on a bus like a big kid.

As Nora continued filling out Anna’s information, she noticed the secretary walk down the hall and whisper to an unseen person. Nora’s ears perked up when she heard her last name. The secretary and her acquaintance were apparently unaware that their whispered voices still carried down the hall.

“Buckley? Are you sure?”

“Mhmm. Came right in like no one would recognize who she was,” said the secretary.

“I never thought she’d come back here, and with the child,” the mystery voice continued.

“Ya know they’ve taken up at the Dixon farm, right? God only knows what goes on there.”

“That poor child.”

Nora gripped the black ballpoint pen tightly in her fist. No matter how much she tried to avoid and ignore the gossip, it always seemed to find a way to slip into her life.

“What they talkin about Mama?” Anna asked turning back around in her seat.

“Nothing baby,” Nora said softly.

The two women appeared back in the office a few minutes later, one carrying a manilla folder and some pencils in her hand.

“Ms. Buckley,” the secretary announced. “This is Mrs. Wells, she is the school’s counselor and will need to take your daughter back for the standard screening for Kindergarten.”

“Oh, alright,” Nora replied. Anna jumped to her feet when the counselor asked if she was ready to do some exercises. The blonde tuft of curls waved back to her mother and disappeared down the hall. The old secretary went back to her desk, doing busy work while glancing over at Nora every now and then.

Not able to stand the silence or wandering eyes sitting in the office, Nora excused herself to the bathroom. She walked up and down the hallways, her heels echoing off the plaster walls. She wished the testing was done already, but not because she was worried for Anna. She knew her daughter was as smart as a whip and get on just fine at school. It was just frustrating having to hear the quiet rumours about living with Merle. Not once did he ever lay a hand on or raise his voice at Anna. It was quite the opposite, Nora thought, Merle doted on Anna. Whether he would admit to that or not was another question.

It angered Nora that the people in this town only thought of him as nothing more than a mirror image of his father. They didn’t know that his brother was his best friend, even though they quarreled often. They didn’t know about the willow tree he used to hide in to escape his father’s abuse. And they never saw how his blue eyes lit up whenever he talked about the farm. A smile formed on Nora's lips as she thought about those eyes, bringing a small comfort to the rambling going on in her head.

“Excuse me, Miss,” the counselor called bringing Nora out of her thoughts. Nora turned around at the voice to see the woman standing in front of her with Anna at her side. “Your daughter did very well. She should be all set to start in a couple weeks.” Anna grinned widely at her mother and hopped over to her side.

“Great,” Nora replied. “Thank you.” She grabbed Anna’s hand and they walked out of the brick building into the sunlight. Both ready to head back to the farm after spending all day in town.

________________________

Before they knew it, the first day of school arrived. Anna woke up before Nora and was bouncing off the walls with excitement. It took Nora ten minutes longer to brush through and tie her daughter’s hair back for her first day. They had gone into town the week before and picked up a couple of new dresses for Anna, who decided to wear a navy blue dress with capped sleeves today. When she was all dressed, Anna sprinted up to the house for breakfast.

“Merle!” She screamed running into the kitchen. “I’m going to school today!”

Merle smiled at her over his coffee mug from his seat at the table. The kid’s smile was infectious, even at seven in the morning. His gaze moved from Anna to Nora, who walked in the door a few seconds later. Adjusting his sling, he smiled at her as she closed the kitchen door. Merle was itching to get out of the thing and wasn’t expecting it to take this long. He was dying to get back into his fields. After the tractor incident, Daryl had reached out to one of his customers who had mentioned he had a tractor he needed to get rid of. Apparently it wasn’t the newest John Deere model, but it wasn’t the rusted old piece of metal that almost crushed Merle to death. Daryl was stopping by later that day to bring it over.

Nora made them some eggs and toast for breakfast, while fixing a peanut butter and jelly sandwich for Anna’s lunch. Anna washed up in the bathroom and Nora checked her watch.

“Well we better get outside for the bus,” Nora told her. As time ticked closer, they both notice Anna became quiet. Slowly, the five year old got up from the wooden chair, suddenly the realization of going somewhere different finally hitting her. Nora handed her the purple tin box that held her lunch and Anna tiptoed towards the hallway when Merle held his good arm out, gently grabbing Anna’s sleeve and turning her to face him

“Don’t ya worry, Bug,” he told her warmly, and winked at her brining a smile to her face. Anna wrapped her arms around Merle’s stomach and walked down the hallway a little more confidently with Nora following behind. They walked down the gravel drive, King joining them, and waited for the school bus. Within a few minutes, the faint hum of a large engine caught their ears and the yellow machine appeared from the over the hill. As the bus drew nearer, the whispered conversation at the school a couple weeks before entered Nora’s head.

“Uh, listen baby,” she said bending down to Anna’s height and fixing her dress. “You may hear things around school about us, but I want you to know it has nothing to do with you, alright? You didn’t do anything wrong and don’t let anyone make you think you did.” Anna squinted her eyes, not quite fully understanding as the bus pulled up in front of them. “People like to talk about me, but I don’t want you to worry about it. You go get on that bus and make some friends and I’ll be waiting for ya when you come home, okay?”

“Ok, Mama,” Anna replied. She gave Nora a hug and started walking up the large steps of the bus. Turning around, Anna waved at her mother and then yelled goodbye to Merle. Nora turned her head around to see him standing at the edge of the wrap around porch, leaning against one the wooden beams. She hadn’t notice him come out, and watched him nod in response to Anna’s words.

When the bus kicked into gear and left a dusty path in its wake, Nora walked back up the hill towards the house and wiped at the tears that formed in the corner of her eyes. She didn’t think she would get that emotional over Anna starting school, but emotions were a funny thing. Meeting Merle on the front porch she forced a smile on her face looking at him.

“She’ll be fine,” Merle told her, leaving his spot from the porch and walking over to the front door.

“I know,” Nora nodded her head. “I just didn’t think it would hit me so hard.”

“Does it make ya want another one?” he asked holding the screen door open for her. “Heard that happens sometimes.”

Nora laughed lightly at his question. No one had ever asked her that before, most likely do to the fact that she was a single mother. She stared at the deserted road in front of them while thinking it over.

“Maybe,” she said with a sniff. “With the right person.” Nora ducked under Merle’s arm holding the screen door to get back inside. Merle didn’t follow her in the house, instead walking with King to the fields. Though he still couldn’t do much to help, just walking on the soil and being surrounded by the lush green crops helped ease his mind. Walking the rows, he would bend down every now and then, using his good hand to pick at a stray weed.

Not able to think of anything but Anna, Nora decided to clean the house to keep her mind busy. She spent the morning on the first floor and had just made her way up the staircase to the second. The spare bedroom on the right was littered with papers, books, and random household items that had seen better days. An old radio sat at the top of a bookshelf and Nora grabbed the pale blue rectangle and searched for an outlet. Plugging the cord in, a wave a static filled the small room. Turning the silver dial, the white noise was replaced with a monotone voice listing off the days news followed by the frantic screech of a man preaching the word of god. Nora fiddled with the dial until the aching melody of Brenda Lee’s voice filled the air.

When I am kissed I want his lips to really kiss me When we're apart I want his heart to really miss me I want to know he loves me so his eyes are misting That's the way, I want to be loved

Nora wandered around the room, deciding where to start first. She walked towards the window that faced out towards the fields, opening the ragged curtains to allow some sunlight into the room. She was about to turn away when Merle caught her eye. Nora watched him wander through the fields, King at his side. In his usual wife beater, he adjusted the strap of his arm sling before bending down to pick a deep red tomato. His sun kissed arm flexed as he pulled the bulb from the vine and inspected it before taking a bite. His strong, stubbled jaw moved slowly as he savored the sweet taste. Nora watched as his thick body continued to maneuver through the vines, admiring the way his jeans hugged his thighs and bottom when he bent down again.

Oh god Nora, stop ogling she thought, but couldn’t turn her eyes away. Merle fascinated her. His rough exterior hiding his kindness from the outside world. Nora thought about all the times he came to her aid since she’d been here and how he treated Anna almost as if she were his own child. She felt a warmth run through her body. The same warmth she felt in the car ride home from the doctor. Merle had called her beautiful and she wanted to know if he meant it. She hoped he had meant it she admitted to herself.

I want someone to share my laughter and my tears with Someone I know I'd love to spend a million years with Where is this someone somewhere meant for me

As if he knew he was being watched, Merle turned his head towards the house, his eyes scanning the old building and Nora scooted away from the window like a child with their hand caught in the cookie jar. She walked to the opposite side of the room where papers laid scattered on the floor and picked them up. Going through them she started to organize them into a trash and keep pile. When she had a good amount of keep papers, she scanned the area to find an empty space to place them.

The bottom drawer of a small desk hidden in the corner was stuck halfway open. Nora went to jiggle it free, but being caught on an angle, the drawer was not budging. She tugged one more time when it finally slipped out and a scrunched up sepia toned paper came with it. Nora unfolded the paper and saw an image of two boys. A crease ran down the middle of one boy with short cropped hair. He was hanging from a tree in a light colored shirt, probably no older than five and a hint of a smile on his face. However, it was the older boy that caught Nora’s attention. He wasn’t much older than twelve, barefoot and shirtless, baggy overalls covered his body. A familiar looking scowl set on the young man’s face and a mass of dark curls covered his head. He leaned against the tree, unimpressed and with folded arms. There was no denying the familiar glare in the boy’s eyes as Nora brought a hand to her mouth and stared at the younger Merle.

Her first thought was how adorable he was, given the stern look. A thin ringlet of hair brushed against his left eye and it reminded her of Anna’s hair. God, our kids would have the curliest hair on the planet. Nora’s eyes widened as the thought passed through her mind and she set the photo down in the drawer, along with her organized stack of papers, and closed it. She walked back towards the window to see if Merle was still watching the house, like he could read her mind and knew what she was thinking, but she couldn’t see him anywhere. He must have gone into the barn. The sound of squealing brakes brought Nora out of her train of thought and she glanced at her watch. She was surprised at how fast the day had gone by and hurried down the staircase to greet her daughter back from school.

Shortly after Anna arrived home, a red tractor appeared from down the road. Soon the mess of hair that was Daryl came into view as he rode the tractor up the hill of the front yard and back towards the barn.

“Well, here she is,” he told Merle shutting the engine off and hopping down.

“Mm.” Merle responded. As much as his old tractor was a piece of shit, it was his piece of shit and he wasn’t the biggest fan of change. It also didn’t help that he only had one good arm at the moment. They left the tractor to go inside for a late dinner, all four sitting at the table listening intently as Anna talked about her first day of school. She had made a new friend name Carly, whose family took over the bookstore last year.

When they finished, they all walked back outside to look at the new machine, while Merle carefully climb into the driver’s seat. The cushioned bottom was a far cry from the curved seat of metal from the old tractor. This one even had a back to the seat. Merle rested against it while running his hand over the black steering wheel. Maybe this one wouldn’t be so bad. His eyes roamed over all the different levers and gears before glancing up at his audience. He noticed Nora’s lips curved halfway up in a smile as she watched him. She and Anna walked up to the new tractor looking it over.

“Watch out for them rippers back there, Bug” Merle called over his shoulder to Anna as she walked around to the back of the tractor.

“I will,” she acknowledged, staying far away from the row of long, sharp pieces of metal attached.

“So ya ready for your lesson?” He turned his head back around towards Nora, who looked up at him in confusion.

“Excuse me?”

“Come on darlin, as far as anyone knows I’m outta commission for the foreseeable future and I need these fields dug so we can plant more seeds.” Merle rested his arm against the steering wheel waiting in the silence for Nora’s reply.

“Alright, fine.” she agreed and walked towards the tractor, standing near the step waiting for Merle to get up. “Aren’t you moving?” she asked.

“I ain’t letting ya drive this thing alone.”

“Then what am I supposed to do?” Nora folder her arms.

“Climb on up.”

“What?!” Nora remarked incredulously. “Merle, there’s no room!”

Sitting up straighter in the seat, Merle spread his legs out further creating a small pocket of space between them. “Sure there is.” he replied.

Nora glared at him, wondering if this was a joke. She looked around to make eye contact with Daryl, but he had been whisked off by Anna who wanted to show him all her school supplies back in the house. Nora stood frozen in place not sure what to do. Part of her wanted to climb up. But the other part of her, the part she tried not to acknowledge, was flustered at the idea of practically sitting on Merle’s lap.

“This doesn’t seem very safe, ya know?"

“Only got so much daylight left, darlin. Ya gonna let my fields die or not?” Merle hollered.

Nora’s eyes turned to slits as she took the first step up on the tractor while Merle gave her a toothy grin. Making sure to watch out for his bad arm, Nora squeezed herself between the steering wheel and Merle. Smoothing out the denim jeans she was accustomed to wearing now, Nora held her breath and slowly sank down on the sliver of seat visible between Merle’s long legs. Immediately, she felt the warmth radiating from his body on her back. Merle tucked his bad arm close to him and sat up straighter on the seat to give Nora some more room. She glanced back at him, her concerned eyes reiterating her statement only a couple minutes ago.

“We’ll be fine, darlin. Just gonna drive for a couple minutes, ain’t like I’m asking ya to plough the whole field.”

Trusting Merle, Nora turned back around. “This is just like driving your truck, right?” she asked.

“Almost,” Merle replied finally getting situated. “‘Cept this thing’s got a little more bells and whistles to it.” He pointed around Nora’s body to a gold key. “Right there’s ya ignition.” Then pointed down. “Here’s ya clutch and brake, and over there is the gear shift. This thing here’s the draft control for the ripper and controls the depth for even ploughing.”

Nora nodded her head taking it all in. Merle shifted the gear into neutral and told her whenever she was ready to release the break, press down on the clutch, and start the ignition. The tractor came to life and Merle quickly placed his hand on Nora’s thigh to balance himself. The engine lurched them forward down the long field. Nora tried to focus solely on driving, and tucked her hair behind her ear to keep from blowing in the wind, and Merle received a pleasant aroma of strawberries in his face.

“Ya can press down on the clutch some to switch gears if ya want,” he patted her leg to get her attention over the loud humming of the engine. Nora nodded her head that she understood and they picked up a little speed, distancing themselves from the house. Her body was on fire, the result of a culmination between the summer heat, the vibrations of the tractor, and Merle’s strong body jostling behind her. She bit her lip as she came to the end of the row and Merle rubbed her leg again, instructing her on how to tightly turn the machine back around. As he talk closely to her ear, Nora could feel his husky voice travel through her whole body like the burning warmth of alcohol.

Satisfied in what he saw, Merle let her park the tractor and turn off the ignition and throttle. “Ya did good.” he said.

“Thanks,” Nora muttered as her nervous eyes wandered. The sun had begun setting on their little test drive, casting the sky in a light pink hue with soft hints of orange tucked behind the clouds over the fields. “Oh, wow” she exclaimed as she took in the scenery. Merle followed her gaze and looked at the beautiful expanse as well.

“Yeah,” he agreed in a whisper. A few moments later his hand that was on her thigh travelled up and slowly started stroking her arm. Nora did not deny his advances. His touch prickled her skin with goosebumps and Nora held her breath as she felt him move closer to her, his nose brushing over the side of her neck. She leaned into his caress and Merle’s arm wrapped around her waist, bringing her closer to him.

“Merle?” Nora’s quivering voice called out. She had to know if this all was real or if she was just imagining everything.

“Yeah?” he answered, his hand still firmly wrapped around her waist.

Nora lowered her head, she didn’t have enough confidence to look at him while she asked him the question that had continuously been on her mind. “Uh, do you… do you remember the ride home from the doctor? After you hurt your wrist? You were kinda-”

“I meant it,” Merle cut her off knowing exactly what she was bringing up. He felt her body exhale the long breathe she had been holding.

“You did?” she asked. Nora’s voice was low and her head still bent. She couldn’t bear to look into those blue eyes, afraid they might somehow betray the words Merle had just spoken. Merle removed his arm from her waist and his hand moved under her chin, gently nudging her face up so he could look at her. Nora bit her lip, lifting her eyes slowly to meet his, and Merle nodded his head. The setting sun reflected in his eyes, illuminating the tiniest hints of yellow buried within the blue, and Nora knew he wasn’t lying. Merle leaned his head closer to Nora and she felt her heartbeat pick up. Her eyes watched his lips as they came closer to her own and she closed her eyes with anticipation.

“Hey Merle!” Daryl yelled from yard separating the fields from the house. Jumping, the voice startled both Merle and Nora, popping the intimate bubble they had found themselves in. Merle closed his eyes in frustration.

“Yeah?” he screeched back, craning his neck around to give his brother the ugliest scowl he could muster up at the moment.

“The doc’s on the phone. Wants ta make an appointment with ya ta get them stitches out.”

#merle dixon #merle x OC #merle dixon fanfiction #michael rooker fanfic #walking dead au #second chances #dixons #Dixon Brothers #long chapter

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maevefiction · 6 years

Text

Your Light in the Mist - Chapter 6

I had said goodnight and closed the door on a still speechless Tom, then slid down the back of it and hit the floor with a gentle thud. I sat there like a rag doll, arms hanging loose at my sides, chin resting on my chest as my synapses fired like a fourth of July fireworks show gone awry. I felt like one of the Synths from HUMANS when their code went bad.

Half an hour went by before the world began to come into focus again, and I slowly began to take the vast amount of shit that required my attention into consideration. I rubbed my eyes with the heels of my hands.

“Am I insane? How the hell am I going to tie up all my loose ends and do two seminars in two days? What the fuck was I thinking?!?” My phone buzzed. I pulled it out of my bag…it was Tom. Right. That’s what I’d been thinking. I tapped the answer button.

“What can I do to you, Thomas?” I slapped my hand to my forehead when I realized what I’d said. Nothing like a classic Freudian slip to start off our very first phone conversation.

There was a moment of silence, then a sharp intake of breath that was deliciously tantalizing…which I desperately tried to ignore as I scrambled to recover.

“Whoops. Perhaps I should rephrase that. What can I do FOR you, Thomas?”

“I…I…” He cleared his throat. “Christ, Maude, are you trying to kill me? It took me all this time to cease picturing you strutting naked through your suite and regain enough of my composure to hit the call button.”

I grunted out a hmpf. “If it’s any consolation, I’m still sitting with my back against the room door. Because that happens to be where I landed when I slid down it after closing it in your face. Now my legs are asleep and I’m not quite sure how I’m going to get up.”

“Serves you right, you wicked temptress.” He laughed, then paused. “I know you’re ridiculously busy, but I…well, I suppose I just wanted to hear your voice again so I could reassure myself that this unimaginably marvelous day actually happened and I didn’t dream it all.”

I groaned. “Really, Hiddleston? How the fuck I am I supposed to top that? Anything I could conjure up would pale in comparison, so I’ll simply state that I understand and concur.”

“Good. Now, shall I pay you a visit and help you attain a more desirable position?” I didn’t need to see his face to know he was smirking.

“Thomas. Stahp. I have no time for a cold shower break.” He laughed.

“I guess that makes us even, then. I’ll let you get back to work. Goodnight, Maude.”

“Goodnight, Tom. And if you find you need something to keep you occupied, feel free to make me a list of at least five websites you like the looks of. Don’t forget to include exactly what you like and why you like it.”

He huffed. “Did you just assign me homework? Because it sounds very much like you assigned me homework.”

“Let’s call it project participation instead. Better?”

“Marginally.” He paused for a few seconds. “May I call you tomorrow after your seminar?”

“I’d be rather pissed if you didn’t.”

“And I’d be terribly disappointed if you weren’t. Goodnight again, Maude. Try and get some rest.”

“You too. Goodnight again, Tom.”

I hit end call and began the arduous process of hefting myself off the floor. It was even worse than I anticipated, and I was reasonably sure I bore a strong resemblance to a newborn calf standing up for the first time. Once I felt steady enough, I pulled my dress over my head, yanked off my bra and grabbed a T-shirt off the floor. I sniffed it…not bad. I slipped it on, grabbed my messenger bag and plopped down at the desk.

*************************************************** My first mission was to find a videographer willing to work on extremely short notice. I’d decided to have these last two seminars recorded, hoping one or an edited combination of both would be good enough to post on my website for sale. Consulting was out of the question, but there was no reason to not make some residual cash after so many years of perfecting my lectures. Plus, it alleviated the bit of apprehension I felt at pulling the plug on everything in the blink of an eye. I found one that was open until 11 PM and had experience with marketing production - Kamana Media. I dialed the contact number, fingers crossed.

The rep seemed very excited when I told him what I wanted, but balked when I casually mentioned that I needed it done tomorrow and Wednesday. It took some seriously high levels of Maude-schmooze and tripling their normal rate, but they’d be at the hotel tomorrow morning at 9 AM.

Next came editing my presentations to remove all references to consultations, followed by a search for a shopping cart that worked with both my merchant account and design software. Then came my favorite part…getting the cart customized, adding items, and figuring out how to embed the code to my site files so it would display exactly the way I wanted. The next time I looked up, it was 1 AM and I still had some text modifications to complete, in addition to a ‘hey, so sorry, but I’m outta here’ letter to post on the site and across all my social media accounts. My phone vibrated, dancing its way nearly out of my reach. I picked it up, hoping it wasn’t a last minute kiss off text from the Kamana people, though they closed two hours prior.

Went out for a night walk and noticed that your lights are on. You can’t possibly still be awake at this hour, can you? –T

I’m not sure awake is an accurate representation of my state of consciousness, but I am not currently sleeping, so…technically, yeah. –M

I waited for his reply for a few minutes, but nothing came through. Figuring he might have gotten a call or had fallen asleep, I set the phone back on the table and returned to work. The text changes were easy, but then I realized the menus needed to be adjusted to remove several links. My ability to focus was fading fast, so I cranked up the volume on my iPod, hoping it would give me enough of a boost to power through. I ignored my mother’s voice in my head saying ‘Turn that down, young lady. Do you want to end up deaf? Everyone will think I’m a terrible mother!’ Junkie XL’s ‘Beauty Never Fades’ came on and I sighed happily…exactly what I needed. I put it on repeat.

The third time through I noticed movement out of the corner of my eye…my phone was doing the jig again. I paused the song and nabbed it just as it started to go over the edge of the desk. There were six texts, all from Tom.

“Damn.” I frowned and began to scroll through them.

I’m out in the hallway with a little surprise for you. Hope that’s okay. –T

Hmm, you aren’t answering your door. –T

Does that mean it’s NOT okay? – T

Still knocking. Can’t be too loud, don’t want to wake the neighbors. –T

Hope you’re alright in there. Starting to fret a bit. Ease my mind and reply, please. –T

Maude, I know you’re in there, I can hear you singing. –T

The phone vibrated in my hand as I yanked out my earbuds, got up, and headed for the door. I undid the bolt and flung it open to find Tom in a white V-neck and navy shorts with an orange-red stripe, pacing and staring at his phone. He raised his head, exhaling seemingly with relief when he saw me. I spotted a carryout tray with two cups in it on the floor, as well as what appeared to be a bag of Lindor truffles. When I lifted my head to meet his gaze and instead caught him in the act of looking me up and down, I suddenly remembered that I was clad only in a thin T-shirt and panties. His eyes finally met mine again, lips parted just enough for his tongue to slip out and graze over them. I began fanning myself with my hand.

“Is it me or is it ridiculously warm tonight?” He said not a word, continuing staring at me with an intensity that made me want to push him down and ride him like a pony right there in the hallway.

“Yeah. Anyway. I had my iPod turned way up so I wouldn’t fall asleep at the wheel, as they say, and totally didn’t hear you knocking. And my phone was on vibrate too. Not that I would have heard it ring if it wasn’t. So. Really, really sorry about that.” I pointed to the truffles. “Please tell me that those are for me. And that the beverages are caffeinated.”

He shook his head as if to clear it and smiled as he put his phone in his pocket, then bent over to pick up the carryout tray. He took two steps towards the door. “Yes, and yes. But I’m afraid you can’t have them unless you invite me in.”

I snorted, stepping back to hold the door for him. “I’d invite Freddy Kruger in if he had Lindor Truffles and caffeine.” He didn’t move. “What? Damn you British and your impeccable manners. Thomas, would you care to enter my temporary domicile?”

He grinned. “Why yes, I thought you’d never ask.” I stuck my tongue out at him.

“You’d best get in here before I snatch that tray out of your hands and slam the door in your face.” He chuckled. I poked him in the chest. “I wasn’t joking.”

He patted my upper arm. “Oh, I’m aware. That’s why it’s funny.” He set the tray on the desk. “You have quite a lovely singing voice, by the way. Have you had any vocal training?”

“Thanks. And no, unless you count the band I was in a thousand years ago when I was young and didn’t know any better. Or when I’m driving. Or working. Or in the grocery store.” I rolled my eyes. “Or everyone’s favorite, when I think of the perfect song for the moment and belt it out no matter the location or company.”

He was leaning on the desk, legs and arms crossed, head tilted. “Do you like to dance, Maude?”

“No, I don’t like to dance.” I watched his face fall a bit. Such an easy mark. “I love to dance. Sometimes I even dance and sing at the same time. It all depends upon how the spirit moves me. Right now it’s moving me towards those truffles, though. Will you do the honors and open them, please?”

I put my phone on the table, walked over to the wardrobe, pulled a pair of cut-off sweatpants out of the drawer and slipped them on. Tom grabbed one of the oversized wing back chairs and dragged it over to the desk for himself. I sat back down in my spot, pulled the earbud jack out of the iPod, put it into shuffle mode and lowered the volume from ‘dance club’ to ‘study session’. He proffered the bag and I took a handful of truffles. I unwrapped one and popped it in my mouth.

“Ung. These are SO good.” I swallowed. “How did you manage to score these at one in the morning?”

“I’ll have you know that they are from my own personal stash. Which I normally never share. With anyone. But, being that you were generous enough to share your cookies with me earlier, I felt it was only fair to reciprocate in kind.” I nodded.

“Let’s not forget about the baked mozzarella, the parmesan fries and the fettucine alfredo I ‘shared’. Totally against my will.” I devoured two more tiny balls of chocolatey goodness. “So, you travel with candy. I would have accepted Luke’s offer immediately and without question if I’d known that.”

He laughed and handed me one of the to-go cups. “Earl Grey tea with a splash of cream. I figured you’d take it with sugar but wasn’t sure how much, so I brought these.”

He pulled a handful of sugar packets out of his pocket and put them on the desk. I took the lid off and took five sugars from the pile. They were warm to the touch, and knowing they had just been so close to his skin made me a little lightheaded. Or maybe it was just lack of sleep. Sure, Maude, keep telling yourself that. I shook my head.

“Damn, did I get that wrong? Luke said you asked for tea earlier so I assumed…” I cut him off.

“Nope, I’m a tea all the way. Coffee makes me ragey for some reason. Let me guess, you travel with teabags too?” He grinned.

“Indeed I do. I got the cups, tray and hot water from the all-night gas station down the road.”

I furrowed my brow. “So you did all this in, like, 15 minutes?” He held his hands out and shrugged, blushing slightly.

“Actually, I stopped at the gas station on the night walk I mentioned when we were texting.” I put the lid back on my tea and swirled it around to mix in the sugar. He pulled a plastic stirrer out of his other pocket and handed it to me, sighing as he realized I’d most likely have guessed that this encounter wasn’t at all spontaneous after hearing what he’d just said. He smiled self-consciously.

I reached out to put a hand on his knee, but he had begun sliding out of the chair towards the desk so he could grab his beverage and it wound up on his bare inner thigh instead. I could feel the muscle tighten under my hand, his hips thrusting upward reflexively in spite of his valiant effort to resist. I bit my lip and closed my eyes, opening them when I felt his hand on top of mine through his shorts. His jaw was clenched, nostrils flaring as he tried to control his breathing. My pulse was pounding in my ears and in my head and in my chest…and, most noticeably, in my groin. We exhaled in unison. He spoke first, taking my free hand in his.

“Maude, I…I am so, so sorry…I didn’t…” I shook my head vehemently.

“Thomas. Please. Don’t you dare apologize for what was perhaps the most sexually exciting moment of my life.” I bit my lip again, leaned in closer and raised an eyebrow. “So far.” He began rubbing my wrist with this thumb, his face a kaleidoscope of emotions.

“You…you’re…you aren’t offended?” He looked puzzled.

“By the fact that just putting my hand on your thigh earned me a pelvic thrust? Um, no. Nope. Not even a little.” I squeezed his hand. “Why would you think I’d be offended by a physical expression of something we’ve been bantering back and forth about for hours? And let’s not forget that you’ve literally seen me naked already.”

He shook his head. “I’m…I…damn. That’s not really what I meant. I was more referring to the idea that I’d arrived with tea and truffles not to spend time with you, but instead as a ruse to get you into bed. I didn’t. Honestly. I just don’t want you to think less of me, or that I don’t respect you, or that this is how I conduct myself with women I’ve just met, despite what most of the world seems to believe, and most importantly I absolutely don’t want you to conclude that I think you’re just another notch on my belt and that all I want from you is sex because that couldn’t be further from the truth …god, I’m fucking this up royally, aren’t I?” His chin fell to his chest.

I let go of his hand so I could touch his face. “You most certainly are not.”

We were both silent for what seemed like an eternity, La Roux’s “Tigerlily’ playing softly in the background.

“I could be here when you call I’ll make you top of the list And in the crush of the dark I’ll be your light in the mist I can see you burning with desire for a kiss Psychobabble all upon your lips”

He slowly raised his head as the chorus repeated, wrapping his fingers around my wrist and holding my hand to his face. I’d heard the song a hundred times, and sung it nearly as many, but suddenly the lyrics held meaning I could have never envisioned. The look in his eyes told me they resonated with him as well.

I slid the hand that was still on his thigh out from under his shorts and got up from my chair, closing the space between us in a single step. He looked up at me, eyes wide, as I climbed into his lap and straddled him. I felt his arm wrap around my waist as I leaned in and touched my lips to his. They were warm, and soft, and I couldn’t resist running my tongue across them. He opened his mouth to me in invitation, and I accepted with boundless enthusiasm. He tasted of chocolate, with a faint hint of something spicy I didn’t recognize. He bit my bottom lip before thrusting his tongue out to meet mine, and I seized the moment to capture and begin sucking on it. He groaned loudly and yanked the tie from my hair, freeing it so he could bury his fingers in my curls. Time seemed to have come to a screeching halt as we devoured each other, completely lost in the moment, until our teeth crashed together with such force that it made my ears ring and brought us back to reality.

I was panting like I’d run a six minute mile. “Shit. You okay?”

His chest heaved as he grinned. “I am positively divine, thank you.” I responded by grinding my pelvis against him, then pushed myself up and off his lap. “Maaauuuuuuddde. Where. Are. You. Going.”

I shimmied out of my sweat-shorts and returned to my spot, grinding against him again. “Mmm, that’s much better.” I dragged my hand down his chest and stomach, smirking as I slipped it under the hem of his V-neck. “May I?”

He leaned forward and lifted his arms over his head. I peeled it off slowly, drinking in the sight of his naked torso. Tossing the shirt to the side, I leaned in and licked the hollow above his collarbone. He gasped, and I traversed to his left nipple, first biting it gently, then suckling. His long, low moan was intoxicating, making me dizzy with want. I felt the warmth of his hand on the skin of my back as he pushed my T-shirt upward. I pulled back and raised my arms above my head before he even had a chance to ask for permission. He laughed.

“Eager, are we?” His voice was deeper than usual, throaty and full of ardor.

“You have no idea.” I was blinded momentarily as he finished removing my shirt. When my view was once again unobstructed, the intensity in his stare as he gazed from my breasts to my face then back again made me wonder if spontaneous combustion was in my near future. He let out a low whistle.

“Oh, but I believe I do, Maude. I believe I do.” He took one in each hand, running a thumb over each already rock hard nipple, then pulled me forward to take one in his mouth. It was my turn to gasp, and I wound my fingers in his hair, holding him to me. He alternated from one to the other, and I felt his hand creep down my stomach, finally reaching my mound and cupping it gently. My panties were soaked through. He let my nipple go with a pop and looked up at me, eyes dark and pupils blown wide with desire.

“My apologies, you were, in fact, correct…I had no idea.” He slid his hand under the elastic waistband, whining audibly when it met skin that was waxed bare and dripping wet. He tugged at the fabric, unable to utter anything other than “Off. Please.”

I stood, pushing them down over my legs, then kicked them off. I paused for a moment to take him in, my eyes resting on the bulge tenting his shorts that made it glaringly obvious he had opted for going commando this evening. I stepped between his legs, leaning down to slip my hands under his shorts at the waist. I hesitated, knowing we were near the point of no return but hadn��t covered all our bases. I looked up at him.

“So. Tests?” It took him a moment to piece together what I was getting at.

“Yes. Last year. Clean. No one since. You?”

“2010. Clean. No one since. On the pill.” His eyes widened in surprise and I didn’t wait for him to comment. “Yes, five years. I’m very…particular.” I grabbed onto his waistband and pulled with one hand, tapping his hip with the other. “Lift.”

He raised his hips up and I eased the shorts over his erection, then slipped them off his ass and down his legs. He smiled as I licked my lips, then grunted as I took him in hand. At least eight inches of glorious purpose, and almost too thick for me to get my fingers around. I leaned in to whisper in his ear as I stroked up and down, squeezing, pausing now and again to run my thumb over his weeping slit.

“It’s no wonder Loki thinks he deserves a throne. THIS is the cock of a king.” He growled, a sound so low and deep that I could actually see his chest vibrating, and began to lift himself up off the chair.

I let go of his cock and put both hands on his shoulders, pushing him firmly back into a seated position as I nestled my knees on either side of his hips. He raised his brows quizzically, eyes narrowed.

“No bed?” I shook my head. He looked down at himself, then back at me, concerned. It finally dawned on me what he was getting at, and I supposed that his size might be a challenge for some women if they weren’t sufficiently aroused. I shook my head again and rubbed my soaked pussy up and down his shaft, groaning as the tip hit my clit over and over.

“Nope.” Groan. “I’m good.” He reached between us, sliding two long fingers inside me. I came instantly, and the look on his face was priceless.

“Di..I…did you…did you just…” I rolled my hips and squeezed his fingers, grasping his face with both hands as I leaned in to pull his bottom lip into my mouth briefly. He moaned as he withdrew his fingers and brought them to my lips. I licked at them, then sucked them clean greedily. I felt him shudder as I rose up on my knees. He breathed deeply, inhaling and exhaling for a few moments as he tried to pull himself back from the edge.

“Maude.”

“Tom.”

“Not going to last long.”

“Don’t care.”

“I…I…Mau…”

I kissed him sloppily, cutting him off, then spoke.

“Thomas. William. Hiddleston. Shut up and fuck me already.”

Before I even got the ‘me already’ out the head of his cock was poised at my entrance, and our eyes locked as I pushed down and he pushed up, meeting no resistance and fully seating himself in a single thrust. He stared at me in wonder, mouth agape, gasping and grabbing onto my hips as I began to ride him.

“Maude…that…you…how…all of me…GOD…feels incredible…you…so warm…so WET.” He began thrusting, and I squeezed, matching his rhythm. His eyes rolled back in his head for a few seconds, then met mine again. “Close. Too close.” He maneuvered his hand between us again, rubbing my clit furiously with two fingers. I rolled my hips faster, chanting his name as my walls clenched around him.

“Tom. Tom. Tom. Tom.” Words quickly failed me and my chant devolved into a monosyllabic keen. His thrusts faltered, stuttering, and he cried out.

“Oh, Maude, god, Maude, oh FUCK, oh Maude…” I felt him pulsing inside me, come jetting in long, slow spurts, the edges of my vision going dark, hearing screaming as I came that I didn’t initially recognize as my own.

*************************************************** When I began to emerge from what I thought was a post-coital haze, Tom’s arms were wrapped tightly around my limp torso, holding me to his chest. My head lolled on his shoulder, his chin nuzzling my neck. I raised a leaden arm and set about rubbing his back. I felt him smile.

“Well hello there.” His voice was just above a whisper. As I raised my head to look at him, my body shifted and I realized he was still inside me. He smiled sheepishly when I met his gaze. “Sorry about that. I didn’t want to wake you.” I yawned.

“Mmm, I’m totally fine with staying this way forever.” I leaned back, cocking my head, puzzled. “Wake me? What do you mean, wake me?”

He grinned and kissed the tip of my nose. “It appears the vigorousness of our…activities…combined with the lateness of the hour exhausted you completely, resulting in your dozing off for a bit.”

I groaned. “Um, how long was I, you know, dozing?”

He traced my spine with his fingertips. “About fifteen minutes or so.”

I covered my eyes with my hand and shook my head. “Fuck. Me. Sideways.” He leaned in to whisper in my ear.

“Let’s save that for next time. You, darling, need to get some sleep.” I sighed, figuring he’d be out the door as soon as I was off his lap. I tried to reach my T-shirt, which was behind me on the floor, intending to use it to contain some of the mess when I got up. His was already in his hand. “Here, let me help.”

I lifted myself off him slowly, wondering how it was that my legs weren’t asleep. He gently nudged the shirt in place as his cock slid out of me. He was at half-mast. I bit my lip and rocked my hips. He chuckled as he put his hands under my arms to help me stand.

“Don’t tempt me, woman. It’s taking every ounce of my willpower to refrain from fucking you into that mattress all night long.” I whined. “But you have a very long day ahead of you and it’s well past 2 AM.” He walked me to the bathroom, closing the door after I went inside. I bundled up the shirt, tossing it on the floor as I sat on the bowl to pee, wiped, flushed, then brushed my teeth quickly. I opened the door, fully expecting him to be gone.

He was standing right outside, waiting, and kissed me quickly. “Do you have an extra toothbrush I can use?” I shook my head. “May I use yours, then?”

I nodded. “Sure. Yeah.”

I stood in my stupor, listening to the toilet flush again, the water running, him spitting…and suddenly there he was, naked, smiling, beautiful, and herding me over to the king size bed. He pulled back the covers, motioned for me to climb in and glanced at the clock.

“What time do you need to be up?” I blinked.

“Um, seven? I guess?” He set the alarm and stood next to the bed. I just stared at him. He grinned.

“Well, are you going to move over or would you prefer that I get in on the other side?” I moved over and rolled onto my side. He climbed in and nestled in against my back, arm around my waist. He kissed the top of my head.

“Goodnight, my Maude.”

I was sound asleep before I could return the sentiment.

#your light in the mist #chapter 6

12 notes · View notes

starry-kfics · 6 years

Text

roses [p.jw]

word count: 6,552

warnings: language, i dont know how guns work, gangs and mafia mention, alcohol mention, smoking mention, death

author: krys

extra info: spy au request ;)

“You know who to call"

♡

The buzz of the doorbell welcomed the latest customer and pulled you out of an oncoming drowsy haze. Putting on a sweet, customer service smile, you took a deep inhale through the nose to bring feeling back to your senses. You immediately recognized the patron, and with a glance to the wall clock on your left, you confirmed the shopper's identity.

'Coming to the store by schedule.' You noted, sniffing a bit as you casually watched your usual customer, Mrs. Lee, go straight to the refrigerators to grab a pack of beer. You took another glance to the clock. 'She came in at 3:30 today, so she's going to be a bit more talkative than usual.'

You pretended to busy yourself before the middle-aged woman strolled up to the cashier. Throwing another grin, you scanned her case of beer and the green lighter she also placed onto the counter.

"Everything worked alright for you Mrs. Lee?" You carefully asked the woman as she pulled out her wallet. You cringed internally when the disgusting, crusty leopard print design came into your view. As much as you cared about your few regular customers, you despised the ugly hand wallet Mrs. Lee kept with her. It seemed to never match with what she was wearing, and it tended to cause her vicinity to smell like smoke. The only good thing about it is that the wallet looked so revolting and noticeable, no pickpocketer dared to steal the cash-filled coin purse.

"Yes, thank you for asking, darling." Mrs. Lee replied as she searched for the right credit card, her deep voice very familiar to your ears. "I would also like a pack of the Rosettes, please." Expecting her request, you speedily brought out her usual pack of cigarettes, and added up her total.

"Today seems a bit chilly, isn't it?" Mrs. Lee brought up surprisingly. She never started conversations- you usually did due to an unspoken sign of submissiveness. Mrs. Lee's character was somewhat of a matriarch, if not then a position higher than that.

Professionally going with the flow, you politely chuckled and nodded in agreement.

"Every time someone opens the door I can feel an even colder draft come in. I hope that those working outside don't get sick." You said as you took Mrs. Lee's card and swiped it, returning it when the payment was made.

"... You are so kind, (Name)-ssi. I wish more people could be like you." Mrs. Lee inclined in a stern tone as she put her wallet away in her large, fur coat. You had no words to respond with, only opting to smile embarrassedly as she took her plastic bag. You knew that Mrs. Lee didn't like her beer to be handed back to her.

Mrs. Lee made direct eye contact with you, and for some reason you felt like cowering away in fear. "I almost feel jealous when you mention the door opening often. Promise me that I am your favorite customer, (Name)?" You nodded earnestly to the woman, and she let her lips curl into an innocent, yet unsettling smile.

Waving off the regular customer, you once again leaned against the counter. You took pride in having regulars at your little convenience store. You owned the place, and even held residency on the second floor. You think the only reason why you got it is because the space was located on the border of the bustling city and the crime-filled slums, in which teemed with felons and gangs. Also, because one of the windows was busted, but you managed to fix that up your own!

Another buzz from the doorbell initiated the appearance of another customer. You don't think you had ever seen him before, since you were sure that you would remember someone who was that good-looking walking into your store. He wore a baggy, green bomber jacket, and a white t-shirt tucked inside black skinny jeans. His light brown hair was long enough to slick back to show his forehead, and you noticed that he wore an earpiece.

You shuffled a tad closer to the cashier. You had your fair share of misfits to enter your store, since it was the closest shop near the slums that wasn't owned by a gang. Earpieces meant business. Especially when they are owned by sharp-looking, handsome individuals. Sharp-looking, handsome individuals with business always spelled out trouble.

The patron took his time walking through the few ailes, and if you ceased all movement for a few heartbeats then you could faintly tell that he was communicating to someone on the earpiece. His voice was ever so quiet, as if he has done this many times.

He strolled to your counter, him scratching his face as he subtly observed the rest of the store- including you. You rung up his ice cream and bottle of persimmon juice. What gang could he possibly be from?

"I would also like to purchase these cigarettes." His strong voice made the butterflies in your chest lift your focus up. You looked at the picture taped on the counter he was pointing to, and you sharply exhaled through your nose in amusement. He chose the Rosettes. No one ever bought them due to them being too pricey for a low-quality smoke. You only kept them in stock because Mrs. Lee asked you.

"You don't look like the type to smoke," you remarked as you added the cost. The man's eyes were trained onto his wallet. It was of a dark brown color, and the material seemed to be new leather.

'A wallet like that is the kind that pickpocketers aim to steal... Unless... He has confidence in himself that they wouldn't get away from him...'

The customer looked up and softly smiled. "A lot of people don't look what they seem." You let a charming grin make way onto your lips, and you take his cash, pressing a few buttons on the cashier.

You took a few seconds before you responded. "Well, maybe we're looking at them the wrong way to come to that conclusion. Here's your change.” You made eye contact with the customer and smiled. “Have a nice day!" You hastily handed the bag to the customer.

He lifted an eyebrow. "That was quick. What's the hurry?" You slightly tilted your head to the side, your eyes lighting up.

"Your pal on the other end of your call sounds like he's getting impatient. I can hear him yelling your ear off from the other side of the counter." The noise emitting from the earpiece ceased once you said that, and you let out a breathy chuckle.

"Tell them that I said hi, and that they should shop here as well.” You sniffed and glanced to the clock on your side.

“Be careful walking out; I have a gang that likes to come in about five minutes. You don't want to meet them." The customer stared at you for a few more moments before breezing out the store. You let out the breath that you were unconsciously holding.

Myungjun annoyingly clapped his hands when Jinwoo opened the car door. He plopped into the driver's seat and glared at his partner.

"Shut it, or else you're not getting your juice." Myungjun opted to obnoxiously smile as he took the plastic bag from Jinwoo, placing the cigarettes in a ziplock bag.

“‘Rosettes.’ Hopefully we can track down the blackmailer after testing these with the buds we found in Mr. Choi’s office.” Myungjun uttered. Jinwoo nodded as Myungjun carefully stowed the bag away in the glove compartment before taking the rest of the contents out.

“This is the only local store that sells the brand, so if they do match up, then our blackmailer has visited the store before.”

‘Or works there.’

"You two had an interesting exchange there," Myungjun quipped up before taking a sip of juice. Jinwoo's eyes burned holes towards the entrance of the convenience store as he snacked on his ice cream.

"Next time, don't flood the comms with your incessant 'shot-calling.' I don't need to know every single movement update your software gives you on my surroundings." Myungjun scoffed and caressed the closed laptop resting on his legs to his chest.

"Be glad that you have someone here watching your back. My advanced software allows you to know where the trouble is coming so you don't have to be apart of it. That's the job, after all." Myungjun pouted, careful to place the bottle of juice away from his high-class equipment. Jinwoo internally rolled his eyes and pulled the car away from its hidden, secluded parked space.

"We're coming back here next week. Same day, same time. I think we found ourselves a good hook of information." Jinwoo reported, his eyes trained on the road. Myungjun hummed in agreement. "Yessir."

This schedule goes on for nearly a month. You picked up on the routine quickly. First, Mrs. Lee comes in and purchases her usual pack of beer, any other necessity, and Rosettes. Then, the sharp-looking, handsome individual comes in about two to ten minutes after, usually buying a snack, permission juice, and Rosettes as well. This pattern was terribly confusing to you, because you could not figure out why it commenced in the first place. Ever since it has been recurring, Mrs. Lee has been nicer and nicer to you, and the mysterious man has been starting more casual conversations with you. You weren’t complaining, however, because that meant more business and more time to stare at your sharp-looking and handsome regular when he knows you’re looking but acts like he doesn’t know.

Mr. Sharp-Looking-And-Handsome was currently patting himself down, looking for his wallet in his jacket of multiple pockets. There was a group of students and a few stray thugs roaming around in the store.

This was the fourth time that he had visited your store that week. You sighed and handed the plastic bag to the man. He never gave you a credit card whenever he purchased, so you could never pick up his name. That only made you more suspicious of him, and yet you didn't mind his company one bit. You two always made delightful conversation when you could, and your mysterious customer was really good at making you talk.

"Here, just take your items. I can hear your friend again on the earpiece. The volume isn't even that high." You informed with an amused smile. Your customer shook his head, rejecting the offer.

"I can't take it for free, I know I have my wallet somewhere in here-" You cut him off, waving your hand as you leaned over the counter so the man would be forced to take his bag.

"You're a regular here and my regulars have perks. If it really pains you, then you can come back tomorrow and pay me back." The customer paused for a moment, before shooting you with a grateful smile as he took the bag from your hands.

"Ever since I started shopping here, you really like to point out my earpiece." The customer reported as he took the bag. You smiled as you restocked the cigarettes under the counter.

"I have good hearing because I need to listen for mischievous activities in my shop. I do have a camera, but lately it has been malfunctioning so I have to stick with my senses." You saw the customer nod in response in the corner of your eye as you continued to organize the little boxes. His companion on the ongoing call was silent once more.

"I guess I have a knack for spying on others. I was thinking to get the camera system uninstalled to save some money and electricity, but I need it in here by law." You stood back up to place an empty box off to the side. "I guess it's for safety precautions as well. If something big happens in here then the government has footage to put on the news or something."

"So you're not scared of all of the criminals who come into your store?" The customer asked almost suddenly. You shrugged and leaned against the counter, resting your chin on your hand.

"I'm used to them by now. I don't ask questions and I seldom give information when they ask, so I consider my shop to normally be a neutral zone," you replied, examining the customer. "Also, what name do you go by, since I have known you for nearly a month and yet I don't know many details about you."

"Well, what details do you know about me?" Asked Mr. I'm-Avoiding-Questions-And-Sharp-Looking-And-Handsome, a calming smile pairing with his question. You pressed your lips together before continuing.

"Well, I can tell that you are a trained talker since you just avoided a personal question about yourself in a very smooth manner. You wear an earpiece, which is highly suspicious around these parts, and you always buy Rosettes when you come in. Patterns are always noticeable." You unfolded your arms and used them to hold yourself over the counter, getting right into the personal space of the man across from you. "But..." You said in a quiet tone, your voice cracking from the lack of effort to make noise. Your head was so close to your regular's collarbone, you could've placed a kiss on his chin if you looked up.

The man was frozen, watching you with curious eyes as you leaned back into a comfortable position. "You don't smell like a smoker and I highly doubt your Earpiece Friend is one too." You shifted your weight onto one leg. "You aren't who you seem to be, aren't you?"

Before Jinwoo could respond, his breath got caught in his throat when his Earpiece Friend suddenly screeched into his eardrums.

"WAIT THERE'S ANOTHER GANG COMING IN AND BY THE INSIGNIA ON THEIR BACKS I DON'T THINK THIS IS GOOD JINWOO JINWOO JINWOO JINWOO YOU HAVE TO LEAVE-"

The buzz of the doorbell welcomed the latest customers and pulled you out of your serious moment with your regular. Your breath hitched in your throat when you recognized the infamous callsign on the matching jackets.

"HEY! Look-y what we got here. It's a group of rats." Called out a harsh voice from the new group. The stray thugs who were in your shop formed into a defensive blob against the new group.

Just when innocents were present in your store, a gang fight just has to break out.

“This isn’t going to end well,” you mumbled darkly to your regular, your body ready to jump to action at any given moment. Your regular stayed quiet, observant of the escalating situation.

“Do you really want to start something right now? Are you that pugnacious to pick a fight in here, or are you so inexperienced and hungry for a fight that you don’t mind being plummeted by us?” The leader of the thugs jeered in a descending tone, her eyes seeming to burn the jackets and their owners with a menacing glare. The students who were also in the shop fearfully darted behind a rack of cans, and you could hear their frightened whimpers from the other side of the store.

The situation took off when the leader of the matching jackets pulled out a gun, causing the thugs to quickly reveal their firearms as well. There was a short window of heartbeats when all was still. You managed to get around to the other side of the counter as the two gang leaders had their stare down, but before you could intervene, your mysterious regular was quicker to react.

“I don’t think you guys would want to start a fight right now,” your regular began as he took one nonchalant step forward. The leaders of both groups shot their heads towards him, watching his every move.

“Those cameras in the corners can pick every single identification detail on all of us here, so I suggest that we put our guns down and take this outside.” Your regular’s tone was emotionless and stern, which you were surprised that he was capable of being such a frightening man. All the reason that the two leaders of the group glared at each other as they slowly lowered their weapons, causing the others to follow.

“H-hey!”

Your sudden exclaim caused one of the more jittery gang members in a jacket to flash up his gun in response to the sound. Jinwoo glanced in your direction to notice that one of the thugs has taken the opportunity to get to the unsupervised cashier, in which you were attempting to defend with a counter in your way.

With lightning speed, Jinwoo had short-distance sprinted towards the gunman, grabbed his armed wrist tightly, and twisted the gun out of the gunman’s grasp with another hand. Without looking back, Jinwoo aimed the gun out to his side, effectively stopping the burglar-thug in her tracks.

Without wasting any time, you swiped the bag out of the thug’s arms. Jinwoo narrowed his eyes before pulling the trigger, a harmless click being the only result.

Jinwoo tossed the empty gun to the thug, who caught it effectively. He coldly faced the other two groups.

“I think it’s time that you both leave. Now.”

With just that short statement, all of the members of the respective groups filtered out of the store, being careful to not brush the enemy on the shoulder. Jinwoo stood a ways behind the two retreating groups to be sure that no more funny business happened on your property. All of this happened in roughly two minutes.

After the humming of a rugged van and multiple bikes droned out into the distance, he turned back to find you conversing with the shaken up students. His chest flipped ever so slightly when he noticed their bright auras were now long gone, you trying to offer them free bags of chips to bring their liveliness back.

“I can escort you guys back to your school if you are scared to walk around outside,” your regular brought up as he walked up behind you. The students all nodded their heads earnestly, and you shot a warm, thankful smile to your mysterious patron, in which he tried to ignore so the butterflies in his chest don’t break through his professionalism.

“That would be absolutely wonderful if you have the time.” You turned back to the students. “I am so sorry that you guys have to see that. You can pick out more snacks before you go home if you want, but consider this the only time I’m allowing it.” The students each breathed out their thanks to you and your regular as they quickly made their way towards the chip aisle, some holding each other close for emotional support.

“And you-” You started as you turned towards Mr. I-Just-Stopped-A-Shootout-From-Happening-While-Still-Staying-Sharp-Looking-And-Handsome, “I don’t know what would have happened if you weren’t here.” You let out a breathy, relieved chuckle. “We would have been goners if you didn’t jump in and negotiate and do whatever that disarming move was. I think I really owe you my life for that one.”

Your regular shot you an eye-smile that warmed your entire heart. “I’m glad that I was able to keep you and the store safe.” He sighed as the two of you migrated back to the counter. He stopped abruptly, which nearly caused you to run into him. Your patron turned around.

“I think that you should really invest in a better camera system- I know a guy who could help you with that. I’m surprised that you don’t have something better than this simple stuff, since you are so close to a mafia-heavy area.” He was currently standing in front of you, eyes slightly widened in concern as they traversed the background of the store before settling on you. “We can’t risk another moment when you or the store can be superseded by bad people. Me not doing anything to help is basically putting you in danger.”

It was as if your customer’s personality had completely changed, comparing his earlier performance to his current actions. You actually found it a bit cute that your regular was fretting over you after this one small event. You dared not to inform him about the multiple times you had to “dismiss” perpetrators of bad behavior from your storefront. This was one of the first times in a long time that someone has actually cared about you and your location genuinely, and it made your heart race with affection on the inside.

“And what about your room on the second floor? When you’re not looking, thugs could sneak up and steal your belongings in a breeze if you don’t have a strong enough security system. We should start on that so that none of your belongings get taken.” Your customer continued to ramble on, his voice in a higher pitch that usual. What caught him off guard was your glazy smile that warmly formed on your face.

“I really do appreciate how you are trying to look after me after this scare,” you started to cut him off for good, “but I believe that I will be able to handle myself. I mean, look how far I have gotten at this point!” You giggled lightly to lessen the tension, which influenced your patron to let a small smile break through as well.

“I am fully capable of fending my store for myself, but if you wish to put a new camera system in here with the intentions of you paying it yourself, then by all means, go ahead. But, for now-” You grabbed the forgotten plastic bag that was by the counter, and handed it to your patron. “I guess that you will have to stay here a lot more to watch out for any bad guys.” With a wink, you went back behind the counter. It was silent for a lengthy amount of heartbeats, until your regular spoke up in a quiet, low voice.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t hear that?” You inquired. The patron cleared his throat and with a fully neutral, but caring expression began again.

“My name is Park Jinwoo, and… I am a spy. I was hired to track down an infamous blackmailer, and I was assigned to be here for a month because my employer thought it was you. But after knowing you for nearly a month, I don’t think that you are as bad as my employer says you are.” There were barely a few seconds until you spoke up.

“You’re a spy?” You seemed to say this more than ask it, which threw Jinwoo off.

“Yes, I am a professional private spy, along with my friend, who is on the other end of the earpiece I constantly use.” You nodded without saying anything else. Jinwoo noticed that Myungjun was quiet on the other side, which was not too abnormal.

“I think after all of this time of coming to your store everyday, you should be aware of this by now. The main reason I am telling you, however, is so that you may be able to help me find the blackmailer. You said yourself that you have good hearing, so you can be our ears while my partner can be our eyes.” He produced a small, plastic, light gray rectangle with a sleek, square button from one of his pockets, and placed it on the counter in front of you.

“You can use this to alert me if anything goes wrong. I am about 73% sure that our target already knows of this compliance, so be sure to press this button if you’re in trouble, alright?” You were still quiet, only allowing nods and wayward eyes to be your forms of responses. Jinwoo smiled. He reached a hand to clasp onto your bicep in an affectionate manner.

“If need any help at all, sense some suspicious activity, or just want a friend to go out and drink coffee with, you know who to call.” And with that, the Sharp-Looking and Handsome Park Jinwoo was out the door with his plastic bag and a trail of students following him.

You picked up the calling device and rolled it around in your hand, your eyes taking in every detail of the remote. You huffed in amusement.

“Haven’t seen one of these in a while.”

It has been about another month now since Jinwoo had revealed himself to you. The only thing that has changed in the routine since then was that Mrs. Lee was coming to your store less frequently. You didn’t mind at all, because this possibly meant a chance to finally drop the nasty Rosette brand, but you also felt like there was a hole in your heart from missing one of your long-term regulars.

Though, you had Jinwoo to fill that hole up. Jinwoo seemed to be more drawn to your store after revealing that he was a spy. He always tried to visit every day of the week now, and would spend time with you in the store until you kick him out for “scaring off customers and being a distraction.”

When Jinwoo got back to his car after completing a small side-mission, he was surprised to find a panicking Myungjun talking feverishly to the console tablet, but was soon filled with dread when he noticed who his partner was talking to.

“Mr. Park, so nice of you to finally join us.” Mr. Choi greeted once the spy entered the driver’s seat. Jinwoo nodded and held his tongue, allowing his current employer to speak.

“I was just telling Mr. Kim here how it has been… let me see- two months since I have paid you for this assignment? And what progress have you made today?” Mr. Choi asked with a forceful, quizzical tone, his hands folded in front of the camera. He was iconically wearing a business suit with an eye patch wrapped around his head, and Jinwoo could tell from his background that he was in an office looking over the inside of a busy factory.

Jinwoo cleared his throat and took a healthy inhale. He wasn’t given enough time to mentally prepare himself to talk to the temperamental Mr. Choi. “Sir, I would like to inform you once more that it is crucial that we are careful when going into the field, since our target is-”

“Our target is a liar, a bitch, and a fucking piece of trash, and I am fully aware of these things because each second I am losing my shares and property one piece at a time. My money is being drained like bathwater, and what do I do everyday? Sit in my little office and call you two shitheads, only to be told that you are pussying out of doing your job.” Jinwoo could tell that Myungjun had fearfully glanced in his direction, but Jinwoo didn’t looked back. Mr. Choi had been exploding more as the days turned into weeks, and Jinwoo was using all of his people skills to keep their employer at bay.

“We are close to being able to approach our target, and I believe that we will soon be able to retrieve your stolen information. It will only take a few more days-” Jinwoo tried to negotiate, but Mr. Choi wasn’t having any of it.

“You have been saying that for the past month, Mr. Park, but I’m afraid that I have waited too long. I’m going to our main point once that damned blackmailer gets there on schedule, and I’m going to take matters in my own hands. Back-up help is welcomed.” Mr. Choi bitterly informed the spy duo.

“W-wait, that’s not smart-” “Mr. Choi, please think of the consequences-!” Both Myungjun and Jinwoo yelled towards the tablet, but their employer ended the call. Myungjun’s eyes were wide, and his mouth was slightly ajar.

“What are we going to do, Jinwoo? The real blackmailer is probably already in transit to the store, and we are on the other side of the district. If the blackmailer and Mr. Choi clash right now…” Jinwoo and Myungjun fearfully made eye contact.

“I gave (Name) my Caller, so once they press that, the emergency boosts will be activated, and I will be able to drive us there in time.” With that statement, Myungjun seemed to jump in his seat immediately.

“You told (Name) our identity?! Jinwoo, when was the last time you went over the definition of a spy?! We can’t have an innocent citizen involved in this mess! You just put them in more danger than they already have been for the past two months!” Jinwoo pressed his lips together tightly, giving a few heartbeats to get the car started and going before responding.

“I trust (Name). They have experience in dealing with conflict.” Jinwoo said, driving as fast as possible without crashing or catching attention of the police. Myungjun quickly and clumsily slipped out his laptop, typing in several streams of input before stopping to carefully observe the store cameras.

“I don’t see anything happening right now. The store is empty, and (Name) is just sitting at the counter… Wait... ” Myungjun trailed off.

“Oh my god... This is a clip of footage from earlier. It’s just repeating. The blackmailer already knows.” Jinwoo felt his stomach drop, and he gripped the steering wheel to prevent himself doing anything drastic. Just then, the green distress light on the console lit up, and Myungjun was quick to press it.

“(Name) made the call. There is an even amount of chance that either our blackmailer or Mr. Choi are the cause of the distress signal, since Mr. Choi doesn’t know what the blackmailer looks like, so (Name) is in double the danger. Hopefully it’s him, or else the bigger storm has already hit.” Jinwoo announced in a straight tone. His heart and mind was racing laps all over as he thought of all of the possible situations you may be in at that current moment. He didn’t want any blood to be apart of this mission, especially from someone who didn’t deserve to be apart of this in the first place

Jinwoo got to your store in record time, him and Myungjun out of the car in a flash. Jinwoo noticed one car outside the store, which nearly calmed his rushing heart.

The buzz of the doorbell welcomed the latest customers and pulled away Jinwoo’s luck. Mr. Choi was present in the store, his back to the entrance and a gun stretched out in front of him. However, a woman was in the store as well, standing a ways away from Mr. Choi, and her gun firmly placed on the side of your head.

“Jinwoo, so nice of you and Myungjun to join Mr. Choi, sweet (Name), and I. Did you come here to pick up another pack of Rosettes? You have good taste.” Mrs. Lee asked the spy. Jinwoo felt immediate distress from the sight of you. You weren’t struggling in her arms, and the supposed blackmailer didn’t seem to have to keep a death grip around you to stop you from running. The woman either had you completely petrified in her arms, or you were ahead of the game and did not move in fear that she would start using the gun that was to your head.

“Silly me, I haven’t formally introduced myselves to you all. Hello, my name is Lee Boyoung, and I like to hack into people’s private information for fun. I’m sure Mr. Choi here is very familiar with my work.” Boyoung smiled innocently. “I have been visiting sweet (Name)’s store on a schedule for nearly a year now, so I guess you can say we are close.” Boyoung hugged you closer when she said that, you incredibly stiff.

“I am going to need an explanation for all of this, right now.” Jinwoo vocalized in a firm, hostile tone, deathly careful of each action he carried out.

“Of course, I was just about to inform Mr. Choi here about this whole inconvenience. My thanks for getting here now, since reiterating things are not my passion. Those little… What do you call them? Callers? Are quite effective. ” Boyoung said. Mr. Choi still kept his stance, his raised arms not showing any fatigue, but his conscious radiating curiosity.

“Let’s start off with an apology. I’m sorry to lie to you all, but I actually don’t like Rosettes. They were my father’s favorite brand, however, so I have been ceremoniously purchasing them to mix with his ashes- his request, not mine. Well, soon enough, all of the other drug stores in this district have been dropping the Rosette brand, so I had to go out and search for another source. And guess who was the only one close enough to this district who sold Rosettes?” Jinwoo met eyes with you at that very moment. He admired the fact that you were effectively keeping your breathing in calm cadences, but your eyes held all of your true emotions. They held all of the terror and dread that they could hold, and Jinwoo had to hold his breath to stop him from jumping in right then and there to save you.

“I didn’t think much of this dingy place when I stepped in, but once I saw sweet (Name), I knew that I won the jackpot. I found a small, unnoticeable corner store that sold Rosettes, was visited by many gang-related individuals, and owned by an unbiased ex-spy? It was like finding a pot of gold at the end of the rainbow.” Boyoung gave her signature, sickly sweet grin, licking her teeth before going close to your ear and softly purring, “You can explain your story for the rest of them, (Name). I feel I set everything up for you.”

You took a deep breath, as that was the only voluntary move you dared to practice. It was as if you were already prepared for the confession to be gutted out.

“I… I used to do undercover private work around the two districts.” Cue Jinwoo and Myungjun’s eyes widening and their stances slacking ever so slightly. “I decided to stop before the consequences of my job overruled my life. I wanted to start fresh with my real identity, so I came here and made this place my home, with the intentions of never getting involved in anymore messes.” Boyoung chuckled from your tight comment, but didn’t say anything.

Jinwoo stayed quiet and frozen. He didn’t want the words “Why didn’t you tell me?” the first ones he said to you. He didn’t know what to ask at all. He knew that he should have seen the signs from before, since no true civilian would dare to start a business in this area. He might have been able to protect you better.

“I’m sorry that I led your little bloodhounds to this place, Mr. Choi. I should have chosen a far better location.” Boyoung mentioned, her head tilted to the side to feign innocence.

“That means that you purposely led Mr. Choi here so that he would think (Name) was you.” Myungjun said quietly. The pieces were now starting to magnetize together in Jinwoo’s brain.

“And when (Name) proved that they were hard to claim for your own gang, you made Mr. Choi storm down here to take out what you couldn’t take in the first place!” Jinwoo finished off. Boyoung hummed in affirmation.

“See, putting the puzzle pieces wasn’t that hard. You put your money in a good place, Mr. Choi.” Boyoung remarked. That caused whatever switch that turned off the man to start him running again.

“My money? You mean the money that you have stolen and are mining from me right now? I’m here to get my property back and revenge.” Mr. Choi nearly snarled out in a sharp tone, him taking a few steps forward. Boyoung quickly shifted the gun to your back with lightning speed, causing you to tightly press your lips and furrow your eyebrows together as if you were keeping back a whimper. Jinwoo felt like hell watching you fearfully stand between two guns, his mind running through millions of options at once. Boyoung didn’t tie you up, so you would be able to disarm her, if you knew how. If only you knew now.

“Calm down there, Mr. Choi. You don’t want to have this innocent’s blood on your hands, do you?” Boyoung tested.

“No, but I want yours.” With that statement, Boyoung snorted out a chuckle.

“You don’t even care if I do anything to (Name)? How about you, Jinwoo?”

Jinwoo stayed unwavering. “You’ll regret it if you do anything drastic here, Boyoung.”

Mr. Choi glanced towards Jinwoo, his eyes narrowing. “What kind of spy are you that put us in this situation? We’ve had the lying bitch right in front of us and yet this whole time you’ve been flirting with some random person?” His facial expression grew more wild in rage. “How do I not know that you four have been plotting against me this whole time? What if this is all just a set up against me and my personal information?”

“Sir, that’s not what we’re trying to do-” Myungjun tried to start, but he was immediately cut off by Mr. Choi.

“Fuck you! Fuck everyone! Everything that I own has been draining out of me for the past three months, and I want it all to STOP!”

A gunshot rang out. For the next dozen heartbeats, Jinwoo couldn’t tell who made the first shot. All was frozen, until there was a gasp and a fall.

Epilogue

Jinwoo hated writing reports. He didn’t hate it because it was too meticulous to recall all of the details, but it was because he didn’t want to be reminded of all of the details. The rush of emotions aren’t the same when you keep trying to recollect them.

The swing of the door announced the arrival of a new incomer into Jinwoo’s office, causing him to pause his writing and to close the news report tab on the mysterious death of the jailed blackmailer Lee Boyoung.

“You’re still writing that thing?” Myungjun asked, leaning against the door.

“I keep deleting paragraphs and rewriting them. I feel like I’m not getting all of the right information from the situation.” Jinwoo replied, running a hand through his messy hair before fixing it again. Myungjun let out a passive “aish” before shifting feet.

“Well, the sun is going to go down soon, so we should get going while there is still daylight. I don’t know when the gates clos-”

“The cemetery gates close at 7:30.” Jinwoo answered in a straight tone. Myungjun nodded slowly.

“Do you want to get the same roses?”

“Of course.”

“Alright, I’ll be waiting in the car. Don’t take too long.” With that, Myungjun closed the door.

Jinwoo sighed and leaned back in his computer chair. He rubbed his fatigued eyes and stretched.

‘The report could wait, I’ll just finish it once I get back.’ Jinwoo thought to himself just as he thought to himself before leaving for the cemetary each time for the past three months. He’ll get the report done sooner or later.

34 notes · View notes

atkar-thedemonkitty · 6 years

Text

Deceptive Charm

This is what you end up writing when you tell your coworker about a dream you had and they suggest that you should write it as a short story - so you do and let them read it the next day, and it’s actually good practise to write quick short stories, especially in genres you never usually write in (i.e. crime)

Glassy eyes watched her in the rear-view mirror as she climbed into the back of the taxi, the cold air nipping at her ankles, her dress and the old car’s skeleton of an interior doing nothing to warm her against the winter chill.

“Where to, darling?” the driver asked, his interest keen on her reflection.

Norma gave him the general area, purposefully withholding her house number as she caught the leer chasing her every movement. “Could you turn the heat up as well, please?” she added, rubbing the goosebumps on her bare arms.

A flicker of smirk. “Oh, I sure can.”

His gaze seemed to linger on hers as he turned the car heater on, and she wanted to get out of the taxi as soon as possible. She took mental note of the car registration number and his details that were plastered on the back of his seat, sensing that if she didn’t keep her guard up in the prison of the car she would soon need them to point officers in the right direction.

“So, big night out?” he asked, striking up a conversation as she dug around in her small clutch bag. Lipstick, ID, spare change, her credit card, her house keys…

She glanced up to see the driver leaning towards her, quickly switching his gaze between her and the road ahead and back again. “Work do,” she replied, offering no more and hoping he wouldn’t continue the conversation further.

Norma let the contents of her bag spill out across the back seat, fumbling through the few items, but no matter how much she looked she could not find her phone. She grumbled as she shoved the things back into the clutch, snapping it shut with a loud click.

“Lost something, love?”

Oh, yeah, like I’ll tell the creepy taxi driver that I have no way of calling for help. “I was just checking I had enough money for the fare,” she lied easily.

“Oh, I wouldn’t worry about that,” he said, smirk fitting on his thin lips like a predator settling into position to pounce on its prey. “I’m sure we could sort something out.”

Norma subconsciously pulled at the hem of her dress, tugging it in an futile attempt to cover her knees. She clenched her teeth and stared out the window, willing the corner of her street block to show. It was another ten minutes before they approached her street, her house three blocks down when she asked for him to pull up.

He did so, leaning backwards to throw his arm over the seat, his calloused fingers almost grazing the smooth skin of her leg. “You sure, darling? Looks a bit dark and empty to be where you wanna go.”

He was peering through the windows, eyes flicking from the closed shops and barely open late-night burger store, then returning to her bare legs.

“I’m sure,” she said curtly.

His gaze moved upwards, slowly, making her skin prickle. “If you say so.” He shrugged, shifting back into his seat to tap at the red neon lettering stating the taxi fare. “You got enough or wanna pay up in some other way?”

She shoved the note in his face, letting it drop into his lap, and hurriedly climbed out of the car.

“Hey, your change-!” he called after her, but she was already striding down the pavement out of earshot, hoping he would drive away and leave her alone.

She glanced over her shoulder. The man flipping burgers inside the store was half-asleep, idly watching the meat char on the grill. He got a few drunken customers a night if he was lucky and his awareness of what was happening on the street was next to none. She could be gruesomely murdered in front of the store door and he wouldn’t notice unless someone went inside to order food. He wouldn’t offer her any help if the taxi driver chased after her.

Norma glanced over her other shoulder. Sure enough, he was still parked at the side of the road where she had got out of the car. She looked in front of her, planning on making a sharp left turn into the side street and take the long way home so he couldn’t follow her back.

“Norma?” a voice she recognized suddenly called out.

She stopped to see a car twice as expensive as her entire house pulling up beside her, a man she had met at the company party leaning out of the window with a concerned expression furrowing his brow. She remembered his name to be Jackson. “You alright?”

The taxi driver was still watching her, engine rumbling as if he was prepared to follow or run at a moment’s notice.

She gave Jackson a wry smile. “A creepy taxi, that’s all.”

Jackson, the representative of a company sponsor with as much money as good looks, noticed the taxi just as she mentioned it. “Ah. Well, I can drive you the rest of the way home, if you’d like? I was actually heading to your place to give you your phone.” He lifted up the offending device. “You left it at your table and Deliah passed it onto me when I said I’d be heading this way anyway.”

Norma gladly took her phone back. “Thank you,” she said with a smile. “That would be great.”

He returned her smile. “Then let’s get you out of the cold.”

It was a mere four minute drive to her house and that was only because Jackson made a point of taking a diversion down a cul-de-sac where they had to turn around, ensuring the taxi driver couldn’t trail them without being caught.

“Do you want me to hang around outside for a bit?” he suggested as she stepped out of the car. “Make sure he doesn’t come around to bother you?”

Norma hesitated for a moment as she pulled her keys from out of her bag. “That’s kind of you, but…” She found her house key and rubbed it between her fingertips. “Would you like to come inside for a coffee? Warm you up before you head home, as a way of saying thank you for bringing my phone – and the lift.”

“I would love that.” Jackson turned the car ignition off, the street darkening as the headlights died.

*******

Blake Jenner had visited countless scenes over the past eight years she had served in the city. There was never an end to some case or another ruining a perfectly normal day for someone or something, and that Tuesday morning had been no different.

Norma Wilkes, a woman who worked at a high-ranking company in the city centre yet seemed to only make enough money to own a small house in the roughest area of the suburbs, sat weakly at her kitchen table. Bruises patterned her cheeks and throat, continuing down beneath her clothes that now hung heavy on her body after a month of barely eating.

“Norma, if you would…” Blake took the seat opposite her, gently smiling at the now frail woman. Dark bags under her eyes betrayed her lack of sleep and the way her hands shook around her luke-warm coffee only grazed the surface of the fear and paranoia wracking her every thought.

Since that Tuesday morning one month ago, Blake had spoken to Norma numerous times to only receive the same conclusion – the woman was lost in her own memories and they were as twisted as the stitches stretching from the top of her scalp down to her jawline where someone had smashed her against the sharp edge of the bedside table when she had tried to escape their grasp. Someone had assaulted the woman in her own home, touched her and brutally punished any attempt to run away.

“Norma,” she repeated. “You left the party at…?”

“After midnight,” the woman managed to rasp. “The taxi dropped me off a few blocks down from here.”

That much of the information was clear and was the same each time. It was what happened afterwards that made the case much more complicated.

They had three people involved – Norma Wilkes, Jackson Miller, and David Reynolds. Each told different stories of that night, and Blake repeatedly spoke to the victim, trying to make the poor woman remember the events again and again in an attempt to find the correct memories. The fear, the attack, and the wound to the head had messed the woman up, her memories were a jumble and she seemed forever two steps behind her own thoughts as if walking through a constant daze.

According to Norma, Mr Miller had stopped to return her phone and took her the rest of the way home, where she had invited him inside for a drink. They had talked for about half an hour, when Mr Miller’s demeanour changed once she suggested it was time to call it a night and that she was sure the taxi driver who had been suspicious would have moved on. She accuses Mr Miller of forcing her upstairs where he assaulted her and when she tried to escape, he punched and kicked her until finally smashing her head against the table.

Each time Norma recalled the events her words were different, as if each memory would return to her in a cascade of different colours and senses, each sentence a layer of fog and puzzles, the order mixed up, her uncertainty plaguing her every word. This inconsistency to her story and the doctor’s professional opinion that the head injury had affected her memory and her mental state had been viciously threatened to the brink of suggesting that she should be hospitalised made Norma’s statement weak compared to what Blake already had as evidence. In the court of law, the jury and judge would be told of Norma’s condition and that her statement could potentially be full of holes and mistakes.

Blake knew that the evidence would let Norma’s accusation of Mr Miller fall flat – the man was innocent while the taxi driver had been lecherous from the word go. According to Mr Jackson Miller who told half the story from what Norma had apparently told him and from what he himself witnessed on arrival to the scene, the taxi driver had continued to follow her home after she had asked to be dropped off before her actual destination. He had forced his way inside her home while she had the door unlocked and attacked her. After knocking Norma unconscious, he must have escaped and left the front door wide open, and was seen on CCTV driving to his next taxi fare around 1.20am. At 2am, Mr Miller had arrived at Norma’s home with the mobile phone she had left at the company party and found the front door open. He had investigated and immediately called the police and an ambulance, making Norma and himself some coffee while they waited to help her calm down once she had woken up and moved downstairs.

The taxi driver, David Reynolds, told a different story. He said that he had remained parked exactly where Norma had left the vehicle and had eventually fallen asleep – he had worked a double shift as they were a driver down. He had woken up around 1am and started to set off when he got a call about his next fare and moved on.

The only CCTV images available to provide any of these statements an alibi was of the taxi leaving the area at 1.20am – both supporting Reynolds’ and Miller’s stories without discounting either of them.

Reynolds had been brought to the station’s attention before by female taxi passengers who deemed him…inappropriate and on the edge of sexual assault, but they were no case against him for any actions he had made. Norma was mentally unstable and each time she was spoken to she remembered the events differently, confusing herself, and ending up being unable to trust her own mind.

Mr Miller didn’t help. He had been present a few times Blake had visited the woman. Norma was terrified of him, flinching every time he approached her, and yet he was all smiles and warm touches. He would tell her, remind her that he had helped, that he had found her like that, and that he didn’t even have a car so how could he have given her a lift home?

Blake didn’t trust him; his smile never reached his eyes, but his statement was solid based on the little evidence they had. Every word he spoke to comfort Norma and remind her of the true events of that night only made the woman more paranoid and more confused.

Blake knew a manipulative liar when she saw one, but she had nothing to prove it. Reynolds had no alibi. Norma was confused and weak. Miller’s DNA was in the bedroom and kitchen – but of course it was, he had made coffee and he had been the one to find her in that dreadful state. He had been the one to call for help. He was nothing but a saviour to Ms Wilkes, and that’s how the media had already dressed him up. An angel to a poor battered woman who had taken the wrong taxi home.

Blake had nothing and every visit to try and make Norma remember only seemed to weaken the statement she had given prior. The woman was broken, and Blake was sure Miller visited her more often than not, whispering in her ear and tormenting her mind, twisting her memories further until the woman could barely manage to tell her story and answer to her own name.

The case would end tomorrow at the trial and it would close on Reynolds being imprisoned, Norma being hospitalised, and Miller being the hero.

But Blake saw a whole line of women, past and future, who had fallen victim to this very same ploy. All different types, all in different cities, but she could see the similarities in the differences – the main people involved all telling very inconsistent and vividly different statements, making one be wrongly blamed. Blake spent hours looking at those cases, and quickly found one strong consistency – a sponsor or company who sent a representative to events and parties that would always be somehow related to the people involved. The representative would always have a different name and the companies would never be in the same area, so no one would ever recognise the sponsor as the fields would be too separate and would never meet him twice.

But Blake found photos and under those different names was the same face: Jackson Miller.

But Blake found the evidence too late. The case was long closed. Norma didn’t speak anymore, she didn’t even trust her own shadow because she doubted that it was her own. Miller had moved on to become someone else, a representative for another sponsor with another name and another target.

It had been five years before Blake Jenner met Wilson Smith. She knew his face, not his name. She knew the lies of his smile, and his calm, helpful, supportive words were poison and knives at her throat, but no one listened because Wilson Smith was the representative of the forensic company that the station had employed, who had allowed the station to successfully close important cases, and were alleviating some of the stress on the entire force. And anyway, she was obsessed with the Wilkes case, seeing things and believing things that weren’t true, just like poor old Norma.

But Wilson Smith listened.

When Blake Jenner left the Christmas Party that year, no one saw her again.

She hadn’t got a taxi. She hadn’t caught the bus. She didn’t drive home because her car was still parked in the station’s parking lot and she hadn’t wanted to drink-drive. She lived a twenty minute walk away and had brought a change of shoes from her high heels in preparation.

Wilson Smith had left the party two hours after her. There was no way he was involved, how could he have been? Sure, no one could place his exact whereabouts when she had left, but he had been moving person to person throughout the entire party – he was a kind, friendly man. No one doubted him, he wasn’t even considered. The members of the force who had met Jackson Miller didn’t see him in the bearded man called Wilson Smith and were too drunk and full of Christmas cheer to look any closer.

Blake Jenner had been walking home, quickly, her heels held tight in her fist, ready to strike them hard into the skull of anyone who dared look at her wrong. She needed to get to the gun in her bedroom, tucked away under her mattress, the bullets hidden in her sock drawers. She knew that Jackson Miller had returned to remove her from the picture – she had been connecting too many dots.

She hadn’t seen the bat swing down out of the darkness of the night, snapping her wrist in two like twigs, making the heels drop uselessly to the ground, falling into the gutter and out of reach.

“It’s Blake, isn’t it?” a voice sung, churned like honey and as vicious as venom. “You left your phone at the party. I thought I’d catch up with you to give it to you.”

Blake had left her mobile at home, but sure enough Wilson Smith held a phone in his hand. Norma Wilkes’ phone.

“Jackson Miller,” she hissed, backing away from him as she clenched her broken arm tight to her chest. “You won’t get away with any of this.”

He frowned, seemingly confused. “You are mistaken. My name’s Wilson. Would you like to take your phone?”

He offered Norma’s phone to her. “That’s not mine,” she said, realizing with dread that he was backing her up against a wall.

“Oh, but of course it is. Hey, you take it and I’ll buy you dinner. Y’know, as a present.” He smiled, big and wide, just like a predator eyeing up its prey and knowing full well that they had already won. “It is the season.”

He had no intention of giving her the phone, nor of giving her any sort of present. He was still playing the act even while he raised the bat and smashed her legs out from under her, causing her to fall heavily to the concrete ground.

“It was a pleasure meeting you, Blake,” he said, twirling the bat over his gloved palms before grasping it high over her head. “Merry Christmas,” he told her cheerfully, as he swung the bat down one final time.

#writing #writer #short story #crime #fic #mine #my writing #tw: violence #tw: assault

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