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readyplayerhobi · 5 years

Text

Flower | 13

; Hoseok x Reader

; Genre: Fluff, angst, slight smut

; Word Count: 4.6k

; Warnings: Anxiety, low self-esteem, discussions of sex, mention of (f) oral sex, sexual anxiety

; Synopsis: You finally decide to take a dip into the world of online dating and find the Flower dating app. One of the top matches for you proves to be a guy who looks to be your complete opposite; tattooed, pierced, a metalhead and oh…incredibly handsome. What happens when you throw caution to the wind and reach out to him?

; A/N: I hope you all enjoy this! As usual, if you do...please reblog and leave me a comment! Or send me an ask letting me know your thoughts, I’m glad you’re all loving Flower!Hobi!

; Flower Masterpost

Staring at your computer screen, a deep sigh leaves you as yet another email notification pops up in the corner. Clicking on it with as much enthusiasm as you’d give towards picking up a slug, you watch as it directs you back to Outlook and brings up the email. It was from your boss, who was literally sat across the small room from you, asking you to call a client and check whether they were still available for a meeting tomorrow.

Pursing your lips, you bring up her previous email that includes the client’s contact details and input their number into your work phone. Holding the phone between your cheek and shoulder, you tap your pen against your mouse as the dial tone fills your ear.

You really hated your job. 26-years-old, with a degree and you were just stuck doing the work people better paid than you didn’t want to do. Chewing on your lip, you contemplated looking at the list of job sites you’d begun to frequent lately, wondering whether or not you should apply for a new job.

The prospect of a job you actually loved and enjoyed was so foreign to you that it felt almost like a mythical unicorn right now, but you knew they existed. Hoseok loved his job, despite how everyone berated IT departments in every company. So you knew that there was something out there for you.

But what was it? And how could you get it when you had no relevant experience in...well anything except for the modern day equivalent of pen pushing? Some days you were rushed off your feet doing everything for your boss, acting like a secretary, personal assistant and administrative assistant all at once.

Getting tea and coffee for work meetings, sitting in and taking notes, writing up meeting notes and distributing them, arranging meetings and visits and so much more. It was all boring and dull. The very idea of doing this for the rest of your life was simply unimaginable but you just...couldn’t get the courage to put yourself out there and apply for something better.

You were afraid of rejection and you were even more afraid of getting accepted for a job and then finding out you couldn’t do it.

Almost without even thinking, you talk through with the client and make sure that they’re still okay for the meeting that was prepared for tomorrow. As soon as the phone clicks back into the cradle, you’re opening a response to your boss and sending her a quick email to let her know that it’s still on and that you’ve checked the room is still booked for them.

And then you just sit there a moment, staring at the screen and wondering what to do next. You had some menial tasks that needed to be done; photocopying documents for their meeting, forwarding invoices and so forth. But you just didn’t want to do any of it.

That was nothing new though, you never wanted to do anything at work.

A sudden flash of colour out of the corner of your eye catches your attention and look over to where your phone lay on the desk, just above your keyboard. One of the only good things about this place was that no one complained about phones being used as long as you were doing your work too.

And the green that lights up the screen can only mean that someone has sent you a message on WhatsApp. Licking your lips, you glance up at your boss before unlocking your phone quickly and clicking onto the app.

Upon seeing Hoseok’s name your grin turns even broader, feeling a little better already. He didn’t often text during the work day, often being far too busy to waste time on texting. Unlike you, he was permanently busy.

Hoseok [13:38pm]: Guess who got promoted?

Hoseok [13:38pm]: It’s me! I got promoted :D

Smiling even wider, you quickly texted back as pride fills your chest. Amazing how you’ve only been dating for four months yet you feel so happy and proud of him already. You’d known that he had a meeting today with his managers and he’d been a little worried, unsure whether or not they were going to be laying people off or not.

Y/N [13:39pm]: Yaaaaaaaaay. Can you boss people around now?

Hoseok [13:40pm]: I already boss people around

Hoseok [13:40pm]: Now I just have another department to boss...and more money :D

Y/N [13:41pm]: I is jealouz

Y/N [13:41pm]: (;﹏;)

Hoseok [13:42pm]: I still can’t get over how you text sometimes, honestly

Hoseok [13:42pm]: ANYWAY, it’s more money to spend on youuu :D and Kasumi

Y/N [13:43pm]: Hush, more money for you to spend on gigs

Hoseok [13:43pm]: :O don’t tell me how to spend my money >:[

And then you get a photo sent. Your phone’s setting means that you need to accept it before it downloads, image pixelated at first before becoming high quality. Clicking on it again, you frown momentarily before your eyes widen and your throat goes strangely dry suddenly.

He’s in an all black suit; black jacket, a silk black shirt and a skinny black tie to compliment it all off. It makes the hint of tattoos you can see pop vividly with their colours over the top of his shirt collar and the bit of wrist you can see on the hand that’s pointing at the camera. And it all complements his dark hair wonderfully, today actually styled properly and pushed up elegantly to reveal his forehead and let the astonishing beauty of his face be seen properly.

His face though, isn’t the pure sex his body is emanating. Instead, he’s got a comical expression in which his face is scrunched together, lips pursed in faux anger to go with his last text. But you don’t care, you can’t care.

Hoseok in a suit is...oh god. It’s everything, and you feel things for him suddenly that you’ve never really felt for anyone before from just seeing a picture. You...want to do things to him, right now.

The strength of your reaction actually makes you pause, looking up from your phone as you assess yourself to try and comprehend what you feel. And what you wanted was for Hoseok to send you a serious photo of him looking like that.

Y/N [13:49pm]: You’re in a suit?

Hoseok [13:50pm]: Yeah, manager meeting

Y/N [13:55pm]: Can you...send a serious picture?

Hoseok [13:56pm]: ...you want another selfie of me?

Y/N [14:00pm]: I mean...you don’t have to

And then you get another photo sent through, causing you to swallow thickly as you download it. You end up biting your lip harshly as you try to stop yourself from making any kind of noise out loud. No one had noticed that you hadn’t done a lot of work in the last fifteen minutes, but they would notice if you made the kind of noise that wanted to erupt from your throat.

Hoseok had evidently known where your thoughts had gone from your awkward text back to him, and he’d pulled out all the stops for you. Part of you wondered where on Earth he was that he could take pictures like this without getting strange looks from his colleagues but an overriding part of you didn’t care.

Because holy shit, your boyfriend was ridiculously fucking attractive and how in the hell had you pulled him?

This photo has him in almost the same angle, only two of his fingers frame the pink tongue that pokes out of his mouth, white teeth pressing against the back of his tongue ring while his eyes are dark with intent. There’s no playfulness in this picture, at least nothing that could be done in public.

No indeed and you squirm slightly in your seat, contemplating the wild fact that you were horny at work. This has never happened before and you didn’t really know that to do! But how could you not be? The way Hoseok was looking at the camera was the exact way he’d looked at you all three times he’d gone down on you so far.

And he knew it, given his suggestive pose with his tongue. In fact, you’re suddenly sent back to last week when he’d gone down on you in bed. You still weren’t even remotely comfortable asking him to do anything like that yet, but apparently he’d been wanting to so you’d shyly agreed once more.

Not that you were opposed to it or anything.

But those eyes he was giving the camera are the exact same he gave you from between your legs. And that just was not fair, because what were you supposed to do about this in the middle of work? You had just under three hours left to work before you left and he wouldn’t even finish till six.

Y/N [14:07pm]: Handsome

Y/N [14:08pm]: Are you still staying over?

Hoseok [14:10pm]: That’s all you gotta say to that, you wound me. And yes, be around 7

Y/N [14:11pm]: <33

Putting your phone down, you stare at your computer screen that has gotten three new email notifications since you got distracted. You don’t click on them though...instead you just chew on your lip, tapping your fingertips against the desk slowly as you think.

Maybe tonight...maybe…

The quick rapping on the door lets you know that Hoseok is finally here, half an hour late. Opening the door to him, you don't even get a chance to say anything as he brushes past you, kicking his shoes off and apologising profusely.

"I'm sorry, they kept me an extra half an hour 'cos some idiot basically broke his laptop and then there was traffic so I haven't been able to go back and change." He's taking his coat off, hanging it up on the little rack on the wall before looking at you and letting out a deep sigh.

"Oh I'm so glad to be home. Today has been so fucking stressful, maybe I should have turned down that promotion and it’s not even been a full day." You don't even get time to consider the fact that he just called your place home because he's suddenly leaning forward, giving you a quick kiss before moving into the kitchen.

Watching after him, you simply stare in bewilderment. You're not entirely sure that you could speak right now, hit by the double whammy of his slip of the tongue and his clothes.

It was true that Hoseok had pretty much spent the last month near enough living at your place, only going home a day or two a week but you hadn't realised he'd felt that comfortable here. You felt a shy warm happiness bubble in your chest at the thought though, looking down at your hands as you bite your lip to stop smiling like a little girl.

But what really turns you into an excitable mess is his outfit. He's still wearing the suit from earlier, his hair tousled from where he'd obviously been running his hands through it in the stress of his work.

And if he'd looked hot in his photos, he looked damn near sinful in person.

Which is why you simply watch him with wide eyes, moving into the kitchen slowly and resting a hip against one of the counters as he peers into the slow cooker that you'd set up this morning before going to work. It was just a simple beef stew with a hint of red wine, the scent delicious but you found that wasn't what was making your mouth water.

Not tonight.

"So...I didn't...know you had a suit like that." The words are incredibly stilted, sounding unbelievably awkward in your mouth and you inwardly cringe. Particularly when you see Hoseok stiffen, ever so slightly beneath the delightful black fabric that outlines his lithe body beautifully.

You knew that Hoseok had been incredibly patient with you. Probably more patient than most men would have been, not even slightly pushing you and making sure that you are completely comfortable with every moment. He didn't ask for much and you often felt bad that he seemed to give up so much in exchange for the eternal patience he gave to you.

But he didn't seem to mind. In fact, he seemed to thrive on what little advancement in your relationship he could get. You still got shy when he gave you oral obviously, but you were far more eager to say yes compared to the beginning.

And tonight...tonight you wanted to finally let him get the pleasure he’d willingly denied himself to keep you comfortable. Especially when he looked like that.

It wasn't just a 'giving him a good time' too because you like him, a lot, but also because quite simply...for the first time ever...you wanted to have sex with someone. You desperately wanted to find out what he felt like inside you. Feel him thrusting within you and in turn explore him to find out what made him jerk, made him twitch and made him moan.

Oh god yes, you wanted to hear him moan. The very idea of him making those kinds of noises because of you was intoxicating and you squeeze your thighs together, fully in the knowledge that you were probably wet already.

You have no doubt that Hoseok can tell there’s something different, an unusual kind of tension in the air as he turns around slowly, brow raised. Glancing away, you find yourself playing with the label of a Coke bottle on the side, fingers picking until it came away.

Part of you wanted to be brash and forward, boldly tell him what you wanted but as soon as you consider doing it, it felt like an iron band wrapped around your lungs. Breathing was made a lot of harder suddenly and you couldn’t get any words out, your limbs feeling cold and tingly with nerves and anxiety.

Oh how you wished desperately that you could be a bolder person because you just knew that you weren’t at that level of confidence yet with him. Even if you felt no expectations from him. You just weren’t there, and that’s why you were hoping he’d understand and take the lead once more.

And Jung Hoseok, your wonderful boyfriend who you still believe is far too good for you, does so. You have no idea how he knows that you want to do more than cuddle or talk, no idea how he can tell that you’re struggling to get across your desires but he does.

He smiles slowly, the corners of his lips turning up in a smirk at first before turning into that beautiful smile that makes your heart flutter. Moving slowly, he walked over to you and you press yourself into the counter, eyes widening as you took in the long and loping stride.

Without so much as a word, he stands firmly in front of you, leaning forward just enough to place his arms on the counter, trapping you between them. You can feel the heat of him, the way his leg’s brush against yours with how close he is and the way his jacket slides along your stomach slightly. Combined with the fresh scent that was so unique to Hoseok and the dark look in his eyes, you felt completely overwhelmed by him.

Overwhelmed, in the best way possible.

Leaning down, Hoseok moves close enough until you feel the tip of his nose brushing against yours, the movement deceptively soft given the sexual tension that’s so thick between you both. Biting your lip, you force yourself to remain quiet to see what he does.

“I have more suits than you might realise baby. Why? Do you like it?” His voice is annoyingly light, innocence laced into every syllable that matches his perfect, angelic face too well. Smiling, his eyes widen ever so slightly as he waits for an answer but before you can even say anything, his arms move a little and you feel them pressing against your waist.

“Y-yeah, it...it looks good.” You stutter out, body heating rapidly as you lick at your lips, mouth absurdly dry. And before even realising...you’re pressing your face against his black shirt, feeling the soft silky material rub at your cheek while all you can think of is what the firm chest beneath it looks like.

Hoseok seems to pause for a moment before his hands move to rest on your hips, hesitantly stroking along them. Almost instantly you cringe forward, the feel of his hands so foreign and a subtle panic rushes through you as your mind screams at where he’s touching. The place you dislike on yourself, the place society has taught you isn’t beautiful.

But he touches you with so much care, light and gentle. He doesn’t push further with you, simply let the moment hold despite how tense you both are. You know what he’s doing, instinctively understand because he’s done this your whole relationship so far. He’s letting you get used to him, decide whether or not you feel comfortable with what he’s doing...what he’s offering.

Pressing your ear to his chest, you close your eyes and inhale deeply, shakily as you fight the demons of insecurity over yourself and your previous sexual experiences. Originally, you’d considered perhaps returning the favour to him and giving him oral sex. But now, hearing the strong beat of his heart and the warmth that has comforted you for many nights now...now you want more.

So you let him know, in that quiet and shy method that he must have become so used to. Your own hands tremble slightly as you move your head back just enough before you press them to his chest, hesitantly just letting yourself feel him like this for the first time. And then your fingers move to his collar, the top two buttons already undone.

Finally, finally you glance up at him, feeling unbelievably frightened that he might push you away, decided he didn’t want it. Didn’t want you.

It had been years since you’d done anything...you knew this and he knew this by now. But you knew that he was far more experienced, so experienced in fact that it scares you a little. You felt like you’d be judged against others and found wanting, even if you knew that Hoseok wouldn’t do that.

“Hoseok,” You start, words meek and quiet. “I...erm, I want...I mean...I don’t…”

And Hoseok moves his hands to cup your cheeks, smiling at you sweetly, so sweetly. It’s so reminiscent of when he’d gone down on you the first time and you get the urge to suddenly cry at how caring he is. How lucky you are.

“It’s okay. I know...you’re not hugely experienced and you’re not confident. That’s fine, I don’t expect anything from you. We don’t need to do anything, I was just teasing. If you want, I can just go do-”

“No. No, not today. I don’t...I don’t want that. I want...I want you.” This time, the words are a tiny bit more confident but rushed out. “I just...sex...I’ve never really...understood why people like it. You know? It just...felt okay. Maybe it was me but like...yeah, I mean...you know. It was…rushed and you’ve done so much more than me and-” Now it’s Hoseok’s turn to interrupt you, thumbs stroking your cheeks as he lets out a shushing noise.

Suddenly, surprising you entirely, he backs away and gently takes your hand to lead you back to the couch. Without a word he gets you to sit down before doing so himself, taking both your hands between his own with a quiet sigh.

“Okay, I just...want us to talk for a moment, so that neither of us get confused or offended or anything. So...yes, I’ve had a lot of sex, I won’t deny that. It doesn’t mean I’m gonna judge you though. You’re my girlfriend, the vast majority of everyone else was not. I’m incredibly turned on by you and I wanna beat my chest like a neanderthal knowing you want me too. I know you’re shy and you’re not confident of yourself, which is just plain wrong by the way because you are unbelievably beautiful. I just...I don’t want to move too fast for you and have you regret it. So...talk to me. Please.” You’re sure this man really isn’t real, because surely no one really existed like him in real life.

“Why are you so patient?” You blurt out, brow furrowed in confusion and he looks just as confused for a moment before smiling.

“Because being pushy doesn’t get me anything? Except upsetting you and making you close up. And then if you do anything for me, then it’s because I’ve pushed and pushed until you feel forced to do it. So I’m patient. I don’t really mind, I like your company and it’s strangely rewarding seeing you slowly open up to me. I’m not doing anything for an ulterior motive.” He’s so earnest that you can tell he’s being honest but it still confuses you.

Not that you’re going to look a gift horse in the mouth or anything.

So inhaling deeply, you squeeze his hands and gave him a tight smile before talking. Something about Hoseok has always been comforting and reassuring, like he won’t judge you and you know he’ll be the same this time.

“I haven’t...slept with anyone in years. You’ve probably realised or...maybe I told you. But...well. I mean,” Your hands feel so clammy in his. “It wasn’t really good? I never...you know, with anyone. It just...felt fine. Good enough that I’d do it again but not so good I actively wanted it. Thought something was wrong with me because of that. I’ve accepted there isn’t...maybe even wondered if I was asexual for a while or something. Maybe I still am? I don’t really know. I just...I like you...a lot...and I like doing...things with you. I’ve never...you know…”

“Orgasmed?”

It’s a simple word and he says it so casually but you find yourself squirming at it, feeling warm and embarrassed about it. Not only talking about orgasms but also admitting that you’d never had one during sex before. So you simply nod, unable to get the words out and frowning in frustration at yourself.

“Hey...hey look at me,” Hoseok says gently, squeezing your hands till you do as he says. “Don’t feel embarrassed about it. It’s not something to feel bad about. This probably isn’t what I should be saying right now...but I’ve had a lot of sex, with...a sizeable amount of women. Do you know how many times they orgasmed during sex?”

Frowning, you wonder momentarily whether you’re meant to feel better with the knowledge that he’d been with a lot of women. Or that some of them had even orgasmed with him. But you sensed he was trying to make a point, and Hoseok had never been cruel.

Slowly, you shake your head.

“Not that many of them to be honest. I wish I could boost my ego and say I have a 100% strike rate but...I don’t. Sometimes girl’s would cum, most of the time they didn’t. I had to go down on them or something. And I’ve never had a single woman orgasm from penetration alone, they all needed some help. What I’m trying to get across here to you, and very badly because there’s nothing less sexy than hearing about your partner’s...escapades but...please don’t think that you’re always meant to orgasm during sex. Sometimes you might, sometimes you might not. I know that for some women, they just enjoy the feeling because they can’t get there. Sometimes, I don’t even orgasm. I’m not in the mood or something or I get bored...or I’m too drunk.”

That makes your eyes widen in shock and surprise. You hadn’t even though guys could just...not orgasm during sex. It made you realise how little you really knew, and suddenly you felt a little embarrassed about your lack of knowledge about sex. But he wasn’t being condescending or demeaning, so you decided to take the plunge and ask him.

“R-really? You...I didn’t know guys...I thought you just always did.” Hoseok laughs at that, looking so attractive that you can’t help but bite your lip. Even though you’re having a serious conversation with him, you still can’t mask the desire you have for him. Damn him for looking so good in a suit.

“The vast majority of the time? Yeah, it’s no problem. But sometimes like...I’m too tired to bother anymore and I just don’t want to carry on. Sometimes I’m a bit stressed and can’t get there which then leads to anxiety that I’m not. I try not to take it to heart but...you don’t need to be embarrassed. If you wanna orgasm then we can definitely try, if you don’t feel like it, then we don’t need to. It’s entirely up to you, I swear.”

Silence falls between you both and you stare at your hands, swallowing thickly. He’s offering you so much, and part of you feels bad. But at the same time...you want to just enjoy him without the stress or anxiety of not performing like you thought you were supposed to.

Clenching your jaw, you make the decision and nod your head to yourself. Yes, you were doing this.

So without a word, you grab onto this small flame of confidence he’s lit within you and let go of his hands, instead using them to grip the lapels of his jacket and pulling him forward. His eyes widen for a second and he lets out an ‘oomph’ before you’re kissing him.

It’s not pretty at first, almost painful from the force and you both take a few seconds to reacquaint yourselves with each other before it finally starts moving smoothly like usual. Only this time, the kiss is far more intense than anything you’d had before with him, almost as if you were trying to devour each other with the force and intensity.

Pulling away momentarily, you look at him and groan softly at the desire in his eyes. You’ve seen him in moments of pure lust before, but he’s bordering on unrestrained here. And you want that, so you pull him back in, moulding your lips to his own and feeling the tingle of excitement that runs through you.

“Not here, not here. Please, I really wanna fuck you on your bed.” Hoseok gasps out as he pulls away once more, trying to avoid your grasping hands with a breathy laugh.

You don’t even question it, getting up quickly and practically tugging him into your bedroom in your eagerness. The sheer laugh of delight he gives you as you do so invigorates you, bolstering the confidence that’s spurring you on and you hope it lasts.

Wrapping your arms around his neck and tugging him into a kiss once you’re in the safe haven of your bedroom, you prepare to trust him with your insecurities once more.

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spaciousreasoning · 3 years

Text

One More Dose of Fiction

A fictionalized introduction to the world of border reporting.

Jack Martin glanced at his watch again, then up at the clock on the wall. It was about the hundredth time in the last ten minutes he had done that. Then he stared back at the open folder in his lap. He couldn’t focus on the words on the top page, but it had more to do with the migraine he was developing than with the poor quality of the photocopied newspaper article.

The receptionist cleared her throat, evidently about to ask once more if he wanted coffee or water or soda or something, when the phone on her desk rang. She answered with a simple ��Yes?” and darted her eyes briefly in his direction before hanging up, standing, and smoothing the front of her skirt.

“I’ll be right back,” she said, and disappeared through a swinging door, beyond which Jack could hear the sound of a press clacking away. The press that was probably printing the newspaper for which he hoped to go to work. If he could ever get back to see the editor. And with that he turned his wrist up to see how much time had passed in the last half a minute.

His eyes didn’t reach the face of the watch, because the door to the back swung open again, and the receptionist appeared, followed by two other young women who were dressed more casually than her. They looked briefly at Jack then headed for a filing cabinet in the corner, where they huddled over an opened drawer for only a moment or two before slamming it shut and scurrying out, whispering among themselves in Spanish. Jack caught only a couple of words. He was trying to resurrect some of the high-school Spanish vocabulary from the recesses of his memory when the door swung open again.

“Hello, Jack, I’m Abe Cochran. Come on back. Sorry to keep you waiting so long, we were doing a final press check, had to re-burn a plate.” The words all came in a rush, carried by a voice that was an impossibly sonorous combination of nasal and gravel at the same time. The older man held the door with his body and offered a rough, ink-stained hand to shake as Jack approached. At the last moment he seemed to notice the stains, and quickly rubbed his hand down the front of his pants leg, narrowly missing the hem of the light blue guayabera he wore.

“Things get messy around the press,” he said with a laugh.

Jack passed into the hallway and stood aside to let the editor lead the way. The second doorway on the right opened into a large room with six desks, all but one of them cluttered with the debris of newspapering — coffee cups, overflowing ashtrays, envelopes, photos, recent copies of the Border Reporter — and, to his surprise, gleaming and glowing terminals at which two of the room’s occupants banged away with neither rhythm or precision, which he surmised from the muttered oaths and furious, one-fingered stabbing at keys exhibited by one fellow.

Cochran didn’t make any introductions, pausing only long enough to grab from his desk a ceramic cup that had once been white and a legal pad, from which he tore the top sheet, crumpling it and depositing it in — or at least near — a trashcan that was also in need of emptying. Then he headed out a door at the far end of the room and turned immediately into a glass-walled office that overlooked a sizable production area.

Jack recognized the two young women who had come out to inspect him. They were now leaning over a light table, blades in hand, working on what appeared to be advertising layouts. They ducked their heads until the office door closed.

“This is the production manager’s office, but he’s gone for the day, so we’ll park here for now,” Cochran was saying as Jack found a chair and settled in. He leaned forward and dropped his folder on the desk in front of the other man.

Cochran tapped on the folder. “Is there anything in there I haven’t seen?”

“There may be one or two clips I didn’t have when I mailed my application,” Jack said. He flipped open the folder and pointed to the top photocopy. “This one…”

Cochran shook his head. “No, son. What I mean is, have you got anything that would lead me to think you can’t write? Because from what I’ve seen, you’ve got the kind of talents and skills we can use here.” He looked out through the glass toward the production floor, where the two young women exhibited new interest in their work. “And I guess there’s some interest in more than your work, too.”

The older man laughed and smiled widely. The trepidation Jack had been feeling for the last few minutes disappeared, and he suddenly realized the headache had not materialized and his breathing had gotten much easier. He was also very thirsty.

“Is there a water fountain around here somewhere?” he asked.

Cochran got up and went to the door of the office. “Lucy,” he said to one of the two young women, “would you be so kind as to get Jack here some water? Thanks.”

A few moments later, the taller of the two entered the room with a small bottle of water and a paper cup. She handed them to Jack, who thanked her, then she smiled at him and returned to her light table. Cochran shut the door and sat down again. He leaned back in his chair and sipped from the coffee cup before continuing.

“I know you’re interested in the job, Jack, or you wouldn’t have wasted your time coming all the way down here today. But let me tell you a little more about the operation. And I hope what you hear won’t scare you off.”

Cochran stared at the ceiling for a few seconds, as if gathering his thoughts, then launched into a recitation of company and personal history that Jack was sure had been repeated verbatim time and again, polished until it flowed so smoothly that barely a ripple disturbed the storytelling stream.

The Ballingers had come to San Pedro not long after the end of the First World War. William Ballinger had arrived, seeking a temperate climate to soothe a body and mind which had been ravaged by the horrors of the trenches. Bankrolled by a wealthy family in New York, he created the border community’s first newspaper, a weekly, which he christened the Border Reporter with no sense of poetry or irony. He toiled nearly alone for a decade, finally building a small staff and marrying into a prominent local family just before the Depression arrived.

Abe Cochran first became acquainted with the family through William’s son, Frank, who was a classmate of his at the university in Tucson in the late forties. Frank eventually returned to San Pedro and took over the operation of the paper, which started publishing twice a week in 1960. Cochran, meanwhile, pursued his own journalism career, first in Tucson, then Phoenix, San Diego, and Los Angeles.

The senior Ballinger died in 1965, just a few years before his paper celebrated its 50th anniversary. Frank tired of the business not too many years after that and went off to see as much of the world as he could. He turned the paper’s operations over to a succession of editors, of whom the latest was his old friend Abe, who was ready to seek out a more pastoral life than was offered in Southern California.

By 1980, the Border Reporter was printing three days a week — Tuesday and Thursday afternoons and Saturday mornings. An issue seldom consisted of more than 16 pages, but it did a good job of covering much of the local news. In addition to San Pedro, the seat of tiny Santa Cruz County, there was Harshaw, a small community with artistic aspirations nestled among some low hills about twenty miles to the east. Beyond that was ranching and farming land to the edge of the county, where it collided with the U.S. Army’s Thunder Mountain Range and its civilian enclave, Mountain View.

Across the border from San Pedro, the distance of only a few yards from the Border Reporter office, was San Pablo. Together the cities were known as Ambos Santos, “both saints.” The Sonoran city easily boasted ten times the population of its American sibling, as poverty-stricken Mexicans headed north to make their way into the United States — legally or illegally, whatever worked — or simply stay south of the border and try to benefit from the economic giant’s proximity.

San Pedro wasn’t much more than a mile wide and a mile deep, and many of its 20,000 or so citizens were involved in one way or another in serving the needs of visitors from Mexico. Whatever wasn’t available in sufficient quality or quantity al otro lado could be had for the right price in shops that lined both sides of the streets heading north from the port of entry. Things hadn’t changed much since two Russian Jewish brothers had first established their mercantile along the banks of the Santa Cruz River in the 1880s. International commerce of the most basic sort was still the community’s central purpose, and joining the descendants of the Russian Jews were merchants of Chinese and Lebanese and Irish and German ancestry.

Just about the time Jack felt his eyes glaze over, wondering if there was any of this information that was vitally important to remember, Cochran put down his coffee cup, leaned back in the chair, and put his feet up on a corner of the desk.

“Now it’s your turn,” he indicated with a wave in Jack’s direction. “Tell me John Martin’s story.”

It wasn’t nearly as polished as Cochran’s presentation, but then Jack seldom told it the same way twice, usually tailoring certain bits and pieces for the audience of the moment. This time he skipped all the family history and personal background, starting instead near the end, with the conclusion of his tour of duty in the Air Force. He had served as an information specialist, stationed for a couple of years in Europe, at one point driving around the continent with a cameraman and sound man making what amounted to commercials about interesting places to see for broadcast on Armed Forces television.

When he returned to the states after his discharge, he bummed around for another couple of years, so enamored of life on the road was he, getting by on the savings he managed to accrue in the service. He eventually wound up in Flagstaff, where he worked part time in the news department at a radio station while using his GI Bill to earn a degree in journalism at the university. He had been to the border town a few times during his college days, and he was intrigued by the culture there, so when he saw an ad for a position at the Border Reporter just as he was casting about, brand new sheepskin in hand, for his next direction in life, he did not hesitate to respond.

And that brought him face to face with Abe Cochran, who was, Jack realized, ready to put him to work the moment the interview was done.

“Well, then, Jack, let’s get you situated,” Cochran said, kicking his feet off the desk and rising with his hand outstretched. “Welcome to the Border Reporter.”

#fiction

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teacherkmd · 6 years

Text

How to get a Work (Z) Visa for China (if you’re a North Carolinian)

Okay so if you’ve been following along, you know I’ve been working on getting my visa since about April.

It was a real struggle with lots of road blocks and setbacks. So, I’ve decided to outline the process and linking all the documents I needed to get the work (Z) visa for China.

Now keep in mind, each state has different requirements and the documents I link will only work for residents of North Carolina. Some of the steps will be the same for everyone applying for a visa through the DC embassy. If you apply for your visa at a different consulate you may have different steps involved. I’ll try and highlight where I know the steps are different, but as I’m not a professional at this and my knowledge is only based on my experience, please don’t get mad if the process is different for you. I’ll also link to the websites that helped me figure out everything I needed.

This process takes about 4 months, so plan accordingly. It is also expensive, so be prepared. I used mychinavisa.com for my courier service, but feel free to research others and see if you can find a better price.

First Steps

Get hired in China for a position that tells you to apply for a Z visa.

Make sure your passport has at least 6 months past the day your contract would end before it expires. If not, renew your passport. Also, make sure you have blank visa pages.

You will need recent (taken in the last 6 months) 33mm x 48mm size photos of you, no glasses, no hair in face, no smiling, white background, and no jewelry. Get passport sized photos taken at your post office, Walgreens, rite aid, etc. Trim them down to the required size (if you use a courier service they’ll most likely trim them for you).

You will need three documents to confirm your eligibility to work in China. These are: a foreigner health exam, your diploma, and a background check.

For the background check, check with your contact at your job and make sure a State Background check is okay. For me it was. (NC Residents) Fill out this form called a Right to Review: and take it to the State Bureau of Investigations in Raleigh to get your finger prints done. Then you must mail the fingerprint card, a certified check or money order with the fee ($14), and the form. You can’t just drop these off even though it is the same office. Wait for your background check to come in the mail.

For your health exam, you will need this form. Take it to your doctor and have them fill it out. You will need blood work done make sure you get them all (two vials of blood taken, sorry guys). For things not normally covered by a yearly physical (like the chest x-ray/ECC), just write NA. For the “seal” or “stamp” just ask the doctors office to use the stamp they use for mail or something that looks legit, just tell them China likes stamps. You will need to add one of those photos to this form.

Notarization

Okay, so now you have these three documents. You now need them to be notarized.

If you got a state criminal background check as suggested above, congratulations it is already notarized. Check that off the list.

Alright. So in North Carolina, you need to get a COPY of your diploma notarized. For the love of all things holy, please do not send China your real diploma.

Make a high quality photocopy of your diploma.

Print out a true copy form. DO NOT FILL IT OUT YET.

Take the form and the photocopy to a notary. Fill out the form and sign it in the presence of the notary.

Notary does their thing. Pay them.

Staple this document to the front of your diploma copy.

For your completed health form.

Print out an affidavit form. DO NOT FILL IT OUT YET.

take the affidavit form and the health form to a notary. Put the county you’re in, your full name, and in the 1. space write “ Physical Examination Record for Foreigner”. Draw a line from the edge of the page to cross out the 2. space, continue this line to the other side of the page. (This way nothing else can be added to this line). Sign your name.

Notary does their thing. Pay them.

Staple this document to the front of the health form.

North Carolina Secretary of State Authentications

Now you need to get your notarized documents authenticated by the NC Secretary of State.

Fill out the cover letter form and print it.

Acquire a prepaid envelope for return.

Decide how you’re going to pay.

I took mine in person to the Secretary of State in Raleigh. Take the cover letter, the three documents, and your return envelope, pay at the desk. OR Mail all these items to the Secretary of State in Raleigh.

Your documents will come back to you with the authentication attached to the forms. DO NOT dismantle or detach in anyway or they’re no longer valid.

US Secretary of State Authentications

Ok, so because we live in NC we get an extra step here. Our documents have to be further authenticated. (If you’re not from NC but your consulate is DC for applying to the visa, you will have to do this step too.)

Fill out this form accordingly and print.

Write a check for the fees ($8 per document)

Get a prepaid return envelope (not Fedex)

Mail these the envelope, check, forms, and previously notarized and nc authenticated documents.

your documents will come back to you with another authentication document attached to the front. DO NOT dismantle, detach in anyway or they’re no longer valid.

Chinese Embassy Legalization

The Chinese embassy does not allow mail-in orders for document legalization. You will either need to go in person or use a courier service. I used mychinavisa.com

fill out this form in all caps and single sided

make a photo copy of your passport information/photo page

fill out this order form for mychinavisa.com

follow the instructions on the order form and choose how you will pay and how you want your documents returned to you. I paid the 29$ return shipping fee and then it is $99 for first document and $59 for second and $59 for third.

mail the three documents, the photo copy of your passport, and the order form to the correct office indicated on the order form.

the documents will come back with a blue sticker in Chinese attached to the back of the US Secretary of state authentications page.

Work permit

Alright, now you need the work permit. Scan all these documents and send them to your contact in China along with any other information they need. They will apply for a work permit for you. Make sure you do not detach any of the pages while you’re scanning the documents. Don’t worry if its awkward or not perfect. The way the pages are attached is annoying as hell. You’ll bring these documents with you to China. My university also needed a recommendation letter, a photo, location of where I was born, my birthdate and a few other things.

When you get your work permit, make sure everything is filled out and no blanks are empty.

Applying for Z Visa

Okay you did it we got this far. Time to apply for the visa.

You need:

Your passport

a photocopy of your passport

those photos i mentioned way earlier

a filled out visa application (you’re applying for a single entry 30 visa, most likely. The dates on the work permit will help you choose the right one, and when in doubt ask your contact in China) (again all caps and single sided)

and the work permits (english/chinese version) that you received from your hiring institution.

Again you can go to DC and do this your self in person, or use a courier service. I used mychinavisa.com again. Fill out their order form and follow their instructions for payment and mailing.

If you aren’t from NC, and you’re following along and adapting this check list and your consulate is Chicago, you’re going to have to apply for the visa in person because they require fingerprinting.

Well hopefully by the end of this list you have a visa, or it has helped orient you to getting a visa. Again, this is for Z visas for work in China. Written for residents of NC because the process was super confusing. Many of the steps might be the same for other states but with the forms being for your state. Just google the secretary of state in state to look for the forms you need.

I’m sorry if this process has changed. This is up to date as of August 2018.

Good luck.

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buzzmemes · 5 years

Text

I hate this

I hate this : Memes

your passport photo and copy of passport At my school, the homework was to color the picture. So very true... In my school it’s so bad, the teacher projects it on the whiteboard ah, nightmares Soo true XD They say that because you cropped it out. And that is a fact They use plotters I get it! Lol that’s good shit Im sory Toad The homework that steals your time and your lunch money 99% of sane teachers shows u the color image on smart board No teachers want to show u crappy print Just understand it. Color printer is expensive. You’re telling me that teachers give out free black children? Bet, already got three in the basement itsa me, Noir-io Facts tho It'sa me, a-Copyo! We all make mistakes in the heat of passion, Jimbo. Come back in ten years And they pop in a “do you see the ... in the picture” question Why mario on the right looks like he's about to wake me up at 3 am saying with deep demonic voice It's time for me to turn you into my spaghetti Is this the new "We have ____ at home" ? Since im in school this is to relatable The math graphs were the worst though 30 years of saving princesses, 30 years of smashing brown mushrooms. And for what? Cake? Mario!? Why does this remind me of the fearsome Llapp Goch Master. There's a good chance this is unique! I checked 103,921,185 image posts and didn't find a close match Whenever I got bad copies I'd always split the best copies around the room so every student was at least near a good copy and keep a bad one for myself... Remember when you were the chosen one to go out of class and get em papers wonderful If Mario was in Papers, Please AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA printer companies: see you little shits? this is why your printer needs colored cartridges! My name is paublo Yes Is that pablo It's supposed to be not centered Based on a true story Itsa me, Marijuanio! he looks so sad:( NVM took a secound look he looks like he bout to ask me if i wanna buy WEEEEEEEEEEEEEDDD Kinda looks like Hitler though Noah get the Death Star. My kindergarten teacher wife has to print shit at home for this reason. Effectively costs $300/year in paper/ink and another $100 to replace whatever broken down color ink printer we have in a given year. I want her to transition to laser, but haven't been able to convince her. More like the board of Education, principal and superintendents wanting another raise so the kids get B&W copies. At our large school we have 1 color copier, the rest are black and white. More often than not, kids are not getting color copies. Budget. Why is this too true Don't you be knocking LaserJet. Those things were a tank whose toner lasted a long time. DeskJet is what you are looking for. Made with HP LaserJet 100 color MFP Same Mario on the right side looks like sleep paralysis demon, ngl. Mario and Noireio. Top 10 hollywood stars ruined by drug addiction. It looks like if he ran into me he'd try to stuff me into an animatronic suit where I belong Mario looks like he's going to go on a mugging spree Too true Me looking at my paper: HERE WE GOOOO One more gram common u can do it is fentanyl the new drug to go? i only appy the fentanyl patches on them cancer patients at work, so they don't suffer 24/7. a couple of months ago there was a problem at our elderly home, bc some crazies tried to dig them used patches out of our trash..have fun with patches which are covered in shit and piss You should have done 64 or 69 Bro youd die before you even got through half a gram of fentanyl wtf do you even know what fentanyl is lmao A true epic gamer moment God I wish I had some pure fent Issa me, Black tar heroin Mario! Come with me and meet my gang of druga dealers! I really Was expecting a rickroll lmao And this is probably what he's listening to on his alone time https://youtu.be/ijBrulQXE2U It me mrio I jst snrted one mre grm and I jst deid DO IT FOR THE GRAM Go ahead and do another gram just one more gram Legendary The homework that steals your time and your lunch money............... Luigi says: do the coke to get the smoke Betta tell your moms your dads your ministers... WOOOMP WOOOMP WOOOMP!!!! Justa what me the Doctor Mario prescribed Mama mia I a need a more of that a shit YAHOOOOOO!!!! And remember kids - when you do drugs, you go to hell before you die! It’s a me druggooo Mario! I have snorted 68 grams of pure fentanyl and I am going to die. Itsame itsame I’m literally studying for an exam right now and my professor put that on his own notes... like bro nobody gives a shit about your stats notes I had a professor just say “don’t waste your money on the book. Just google book name pdf and it should be the first link.” Then he did in in class go show us And then you have the ones that sell their own 40 page notes in 2 sections for €20 each at the college book store. Or the ones that make class notes and give them out in the first class. Even better are the ones that accidentally send a pdf of their own book that they make no money on due to a shitty publisher to one or two people in the class. my favorite kinds of professors A full commitment is what I'm thinking of A lot of emulators come with a warning like "Use a bios file from your own console. Do not download one for free from the Internet!" I saw something on TIL a while back, during the prohibition era of the United States, some companies sold grape concentrate. They had a warning on them that said something to the effect of "after adding the concentrate to water, do not let it sit for two weeks as it will ferment into wine." As if...they wanted you to do it! That's a pretty calculated statement for them to make. *mobile errors I had calculus profs who would tell us 'I legally cannot advise you to steal copywrited material so under no circumstances should you go to this website and torrent the textbook for free instead of buying it from the overpriced book store and wasting your money' I always love those blank pages that just have in like size i font "Do not write here" for no fucking reason. Then the teacher tells you that they didn't see it I like when it’s in huge, WHITE print in the middle of the fucking page so half the assignment is cut off I like when it says on the side of the paper COPYRIGHTED MATERIAL DO NOT PHOTOCOPY OR DISTRIBUTE BY ANY MEANS Or the "here's a form that was made in Excel, if you could fill it out so that we can input the information back in Excel that would be great." "yeah..." "But the image gets worse!" Work in Japan. Teachers give me a copied paper. "just copy it. They have the file on their damn computer. Which is where we are sitting. -20 points. I can’t even read the damn question At my school, we get lectured for printing a class set rather than just a master. They say it’s about toner being cheaper and the copier cartridges are much much bigger. There are also a lot of places where teachers don't have access to a shared laser printer like that and don't have any option but to make photocopies, so stuff like the OP can be unavoidable sometimes. Genuinely not a problem in my school - we have a fleet of MFDs for bulk printing. We have an admin assistant in charge of the reprographics room who can interrupt jobs if needed as well. It's just an old mindset that they can't get out of. Yeah but then you have to be the asshole that released a print job with 200+ pages while others are waiting to use the copier since this is the only one you can print to. What is full sending? huzzah, a man of quality Have you tried full sending it? From an IT perspective, usually it's not that they want you to know what triggered the problem, they want you to provide concise information on what exactly you were doing up until the issue occurred. Though I do understand that IT technicians are notoriously unsociable lol I'm sure thats a great suggestion but that's the thing is that IT acts like its up to the enduser to already know whats causing the issues and what needs to be done to fix it. Also this doesn't solve his/her issue of getting staples on the copies. Have your IT reinstall your driver and you can select the options that your printer has. likely you are on a global driver, or it wasn't installed correctly! Or if I want staples. We can only select staples on our copier itself. It would be easier if the print queue thing was reliable. But I can't keep running back to my room if it didn't send it, so I make extra copies from my first one. Or if I need front/back from different originals I work in IT support for a school - teachers, for some fucking reason beyond my understanding, seem to print one copy of something, then photocopy it for their classes. Telling them that just printing it for everyone keeps the quality better doesn't sink in. It costs the same, comes out of the same device, and it's less work, but I'm the insane one. Th s rin er se ms o æ run ing lo n ink To the knee And my axe! And my sword! Take mine too! Fuck off take a useless arrow Actually it seems this printer is low on incas. Damn u incas "I'm so sorry kids, our ancient printer is not working properly again" Read the full article

#Memes #memesdaily

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agallimaufryofoddments · 5 years

Note

Hello Rev! Hopefully you are having a pleasant day. I wanted to ask one question, about Baccano! 2007 anime research collection book I believe is called. You had it and if I recall, you also had separate sheets mailed to you with that same kind of official art, some of which weren't in the book, even. I think you once said you would scan and upload these sheets and I wondered if you still planned to do it? If not I understand, I'm just curious about the unseen ones mostly. I also ask because I/1

Hi, anon.

Unfortunately I wasn’t able to scan the loose-leaf sheets like I wanted to before I flew abroad last month, and neither the sheets nor the books have accompanied me abroad; what’s more, I’m going to be studying abroad for a whole year--and I’m not sure if I’ll be able to fly home in December given how short the winter break is.

In lieu of waiting a whole year to scan those images, I could potentially ask my mother to ship me them (but I’m nervous at the damage/lose risk) or even ask her if she’d be willing to scan the loose-leaf images in my stead...but that would be a lot of papers to keep track of/scan/digitally organize/etc, so I’m a bit reluctant to ask that much of her. With all that said...

...the seller from whom I bought those 67(+?) loose-leaf images has put up for auction another 67-page set at the same minimum bidding price (3000 yen), and I’m. I. I could, in theory, bid on it. Now, given that the model sheets set I received consisted (unsurprisingly) of photocopies...it may very well be that the bundle currently up for auction is either identical to or has a lot of overlap with the 67 sheets I originally bought off this seller.

In other words, I’d likely be spending 3000 yen (not counting shipping costs/other fees) on content I’ve already bought once from this seller. Oof. Still, I could have the ‘new’ set shipped to this country (knowing that the first set is still safe at home) and proceed to scan them with good-quality library scanners. Ones that would be better quality than the scanner back home, at any rate.

As you’ve probably figured out by now, I also acquired the materials collection/book via auction--specifically an online Japanese auction, which I was able to bid on via proxy. (A little while ago a redditor posted in /r/Baccano about their own copy of the book--I believe they also obtained theirs through an auction?).

Auctions (and sometimes secondhand retailers) are your best (and only) bet at finding these sorts of things, but even then...do keep in mind all this is often really a matter of being in the right place at the right time. I was lucky to have been browsing when I did; to have noticed the auction when I did; and to have had no bidding competition. I’ve been keeping an eye out for another copy of the collection myself, but I haven’t spotted one yet. (For all I know, I’ve missed one!)

(If I do, and if I acquire it... well, then I’d be able to purpose one copy for scanning and keep the other in good condition.)

(Also, do know that the collection likely won’t be cheap given how rare it is. I think it’s the most expensive Baccano! item I’ve imported; it was a cost I was ultimately willing to pay, but one I had to think about and would typically balk at.)

I am quite sorry about all this; I dearly do want to see all these sheets digitally archived at some point. Perhaps I’ll bid on those 67 sheets tomorrow after all... For now, you can check my #merchandise tag if you want easy access to the few photos/scans I did take, before--

--Actually, ooh, come to think of it...!! I did take photographs of all the loose-leaf sheets the day of their arrival! I didn’t intend the photos to necessarily be substitutes for scans (nor do I intend that now) but still... I could definitely upload and share those photos in a Google Drive folder or something for the time being. They might not be scans, but I believe their quality is such that their text is still readable (well, I can’t say in terms of handwriting...).

The Baccano! Wiki hosts copies of the model/height sheets which have circulated the Internet (ones which it sounds like you’ve already seen), but those images aren’t very high quality; I’d like to provide high-quality versions of those as well, at some point. Well...I’ll try to keep you updated on this as best I can; all scan-related posts will likely be tagged as #merchandise, meaning that’s the tag to check if you’re checking in after a while and don’t want to wade through my blog archives.

#Asked and Answered #merchandise #long post #I thought I could get the scans done post-Japan #but real life had other plans (to keep me busy)#Anonymous

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han-made-bookbinding · 7 years

Text

“Knights” Binding

Sorry for the blog silence, I've just moved house (no mean feat with two under twos!) and I am now living in Bristol. This is a stop gap on our way into Somerset and country life, we have downsized and therefore my studio is temporarily residing in a storage unit down the road.

I am taking an enforced break from the physical act of bookbinding in order to take care of Ivy and Winnie (however it is impossible to switch my creative thoughts off during this time!) and I hope to take this opportunity to also catch up with the digital side of my life. For months I have been meaning to sort out my computer as have about a million baby photos to sort through, files duplicated numerous times and/or in the wrong order, photo editing to do for my website as well as numerous other onerous tasks.

I am also due to take on a new role come September, I will be the Project and Events Manager (PEM) for Designer Bookbinders so want my files to be in order before then. The PEM is the switchboard for information coming in from DB members and going out to the public. I therefore need to be completely up-to-date with all DB and other select bookbinding-related activities including dates for meetings, workshops, fairs and competitions. I will be responsible for publicising the above whilst trying to gain a stronger international presence for the society - watch this space for further updates on the role once I get started!

Before moving I managed to complete two bindings, it was great to draw a line under these before packing up my workshop. These were two books that unfortunately got delayed by my two pregnancies and although were started many (many) months ago laid dormant for quite a while. I am very thankful to my clients for being so patient and understanding during this time and was pleased to be able to hand over both in person before leaving London. The final task with regards both of these bindings is to write a blog post about each starting as follows...

The first of these bindings was an 1956 Allen Press publication of, “The Noble Knight Paris and Fair Vienne”. The book is a romance of thirteenth-century France which was regarded as the most popular story of medieval times.

Inserted into the original book was a promotional leaflet about the publication from 1956, with details about the text block as follows:

_______________________________________________________________________

ANNOUNCING A NEW BOOK

The Noble Knight Paris and the Fair Vienne, Translated out of French by William Caxton

This edition, limited to 130 copies, has been produced by hand and is being published by the Allen Press, the private press of Lewis and Dorothy Allen, Kentfield, California.

The text of Paris and Vienne is a romance of thirteenth-century France, and was regarded as the most popular story of the middle ages. Although often copied in manuscript, and frequently printed in the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries, there are few romances so rare as this one. From the original Catalane language, it was translated into Latin, French, Flemish, Italian and English. A noted seventeenth-century critic stated that “it would be impossible to find a work more fitted to imbue the mind with correct taste and elegance of style, or to influence character by the wisdom of its reflections, or to forearm hearts against those assaults of fiery passion which blindly precipitate one into the abysses of misery. The work is truly admirable. The situations are so interesting and the dénoument is so happy, that their conception would reflect honor on the best writers of the most renowned ages.”

The only known copy of Caxton's printing (1485) is in the British Museum; the present edition is based on that copy.

The Allen Press is pleased to offer this important and delightful romance in a hand-made book of the finest materials and craftsmanship. The book was set by hand in the handsome Romanée types designed by Van Krimpen for the Enschedé foundry in Holland. The paper (printed damp) we believe to be the most distinguished sheet produced in modern times. It is named Val de Laga, and is from the Richard de Bas mill in France; this mill has provided hand-made paper continuously since 1326. When we wrote to the manager in Paris to question the high price, the reply was this, “Unfortunately, you have correctly heard the price of our fine paper. I do not know how expressing myself, but our old mill is not a 'commercial affair,' it is a 'thing of beauty' as said Keats, and our paper costs to us much than we sell it (we make only three hundred sheets a day!). That mill was founded in 1326 and we have no changed the process of fabrication. Every sheet costs much time: that is why it is dear and beautiful as not other one.”

The book was printed on Acorn-Smith handpress which was made in Philadelphia about 1830. On every page there are wood engravings by Mallette Dean; each (122 per book) has been hand-coloured by Dorothy Allen. There are approximately one hundred pages, 11 by 8 inches. The binding consists of an Invicta parchment spine, and sides of French paper decorated with wood engravings. The books are enclosed in slip-cases covered in the paper of the binding,

The publication date is May 15, 1956. On advance, PREPAID orders, a special price of $18.50 has been set. After May 15, the price will be $20.00. Because there are only 130 copies, we respectfully suggest that orders be mailed promptly.

The Allen Press 516 Woodland Road Kentfield California

_______________________________________________________________________

The book is a love story and I was taken by the idea of Paris the Knight jousting against his rivals for the admiration of Vienne. I thought that this would create a strong design and I could place the characters so that they would mirror well across the cover; Paris appearing on the front cover and his rival on the back with the jousting poles crossing the spine.

Quoted from the text, "Alle other knightes there were knowen by their armes, but the two white knights were unknowen...Said Vienne, yonder two white knightes that bear no armes on their sheldes are more to my fantasie".

Paris bore no arms on his shield therefore I decided to depict him with a plain white shield - in the story he goes on to win a crystal shield and a gold garland of flowers, presented to him by Vienne. On the cover design I drew her on the spine section - the same image as that taken from the wood block print in the text block. I placed her standing in the doorway to her castle, the castle being a much larger version of the wood block print that also features in the text block. The outline of this castle I planned to carbon or blind tool, with Vienne embroidered in colour.

When it came to choosing the colour palette, the wood block prints in the text block were hand-coloured in pastel tones so I wanted this to follow through into the cover design. I had a lovely pink/purple Pergamena skin in my leather drawer that I chose to cover the book in and selected the leather onlays to go with this.

The woodblock prints were also my inspiration for the endpapers and doublures. I used the leaf and floral elements from the illustrated vines to carve some lino stamps, much larger than the originals.

I didn’t originally have a vision about the pattern I was going to print these in so did some tests using an ink pad and some paper. It turned out that using all of the stamps together appeared too fussy so in the end I used just one to create a gridded repeat pattern. I felt that this worked better with the cover design, as the fabrics of the horses were repeat patterns too.

I used an oil-based ink, Intaglio Printmaker Black Litho/Relief Ink, for the printing. These inks are recommended for block printing but are slow drying so I had to do this a few days ahead of the forwarding.

Given the leaflet that was included with the text block detailed the quality of paper used for the original binding I felt it important to get something as close as possible to that for the endpapers and doublures. I took one of the sections into Shepherds in London and found a very suitable match, both in weight and colour:

Ruscombe Mill 1840's Wove - 110gsm (RM184W11)

“This range was conceived to match European papers. These papers are available in 65 & 110 gsm and are made in both laid and wove versions. The papers are manufactured from cotton and flax, have four deckle edges and conform to archival standards.”

Once the ink was dry I punched out the centres of each of the flowers with my Japanese hole punch and stuck a circle of coloured paper, slightly larger in size, to the reverse of the hole with some PVA.

I also chose one flower on both the front and back doublures to back with gold leaf. Firstly I carefully pierced around the outline of the flower and then backed the hole with Moon Gold leaf that I had adhered to Japanese tissue in advance. This really caught the light and added a satisfying visual change in comparison to all the other black flowers.

Once the endpapers were made up and sewn to the text block the book could be rounded and backed with a backing hammer. The spine was then lined with linen, leather and a hollow. The text block had deckled edges on the foredge and bottom of the pages which I kept but I sanded the top edge flat.

Once the book had been rounded and backed I sewed the endbands with colours to match the cover design and then laced on the boards. At this point it was possible to mark out the exact size of the book and cut the leather (yes, that is a newborn baby in the sling asleep whilst I work!).

As with all of my bindings I make a sample board ahead of working on the book leather to test out colours and stitches (this board comes in at number 50!). On a photocopy of the cover design I spent a while working out a colour chart for my onlays. Unless they really are too tiny to do anything with I rarely throw any of my leather scraps away so I have boxes of odds and ends to work with - perfect for a job such as this.

I first set about sticking onlays down onto the sample board leather. This included some alum-tawed leather for the white of the shield and fleur-de-lis on the cloak of the horse.

I also used some of the Moon Gold leaf I had stuck to Japanese paper for the head pieces of the knight and horse.

Once these were stuck down and the onlays back-pared I was able to start on the embroidery. I used a combination of different stitches to build up the design, pricking through the leather with a bodkin into some foam so I then knew where to place the stitches.

The embroidery stage of the binding is the bit I enjoy the most, in fact I find it quite therapeutic. It was also quite possible to achieve whilst sitting with a sleeping baby on my lap!

The white alum-tawed leather of the shield was given some texture with cross-hatched stitches in a thread of the same colour. I also built up the fur of the horse using small stitches in a variety of colours.

Once the embroidery was complete it was then time to stick it to the sample board. I always find it interesting to observe and capture the back of the piece before it goes onto the board/book as it will never be seen again!

It was then time to work on the leather for the actual book starting with glueing down the onlays. To ensure I get these in the correct place I work through a tracing paper template that I stick in place on top of the leather so it can be lifted up and down whilst adhering down the small leather pieces.

I worked on the larger block pieces first, building up the onlays layer by layer as I go trying to ensure there is not too much of an overlap between each piece.

Once the larger pieces were down it was time to cut out and stick down the smaller onlays to make up the pattern of the outfit material of the horses and the knights.

Lots and lots of tiny onlays later.....

...the glueing was done and they were stuck down in place. I cut out three different sizes with the smallest glued at the top and the largest at the bottom.

And finally the onlays for Vienne were added to the spine.

The leather could then be pared. Firstly the edges were first run through a Brockman down to 0.4mm and then the “step” was taken off using a French paring knife. The main body of the leather was then back-pared using the knife, ensuring I vacuumed away the leather dust at regular intervals so as not to get any trapped under the leather leading to thinner patches being pared in the wrong places.

The joints of the leather where the boards were to hinge were sanded over a rounded edge to remove some of the thickness. It was then further pared in these areas when flat with my French paring knife to graduate the thickness.

I find it quite satisfying when you start to see a sort of “halo” image from the front coming through on the reverse of the leather in amongst all of the leather dust - this was the final result!

Along with my little “helper”, Winnie, the embroidery of the leather then commenced. I try and work on the outlines first and then build up the detail second, working through colour by colour. In order to access the part of the leather that I am embroidering I coil up the leather and fix it into a tube with bulldog clips at each end. The leather is too thick to use an embroidery hoop with but I find this works well and makes it more manageable.

Further to how I did the shield on the sample board I added French knots to the cross-hatching on the book cover to add a bit more textural detail. One of the main reasons I do a sample board is to help to visualise what the book is going to look like and I often embellish the actual book leather further than than of the board.

French knots and linear stitches were also added to the diamonds on horse number one.

Yet again, the back shows the random nature of the stitches in comparison to the front - how the thread passed its way around in order to create the cover detail. This will be forever concealed once the leather is on the binding...

It is always a satisfying feeling to have finished the embroidery but then a slight feeling of trepidation steps in having to get it onto the binding!

The completed embroidery on the front:

The completed embroidery on the back:

The book was then covered with the leather - definitely a stage of the process when I made sure the baby was elsewhere so as not to be disturbed during this crucial time! I dampened the front of the leather using a water spray before pasting out the back three times with paste. After covering I waited for it to dry for a good 24 hours before putting the leather joints down.

I then moved onto the tooling of the binding. The castle outline was first blind-tooled with pallets before filling in the lines with carbon. I used hand-made finishing tools to blind tool some texture beneath the horses and knights. These hand-tools often make an appearance in my bindings and have been a very useful little set to have made.

I was very pleased with how this tooling worked out, adding a visual difference to the bottom half of the leather, as shown in detail below.

A small amount of Moon Gold was also tooled onto the fleur-de-lis of the Noble Knight Paris’ horse.

And then the book was held in a finishing press in order to tool the spine.

I had visions of the box of this binding ahead of working on it. A number of years ago I bought some planks of ebony, I think they were actually being sold for instrument making. I thought that the rich, dark colour of the ebony would work really well as the container of this binding so dug it out. The planks I had weren’t quite wide enough to make a solid lid so the panels were “book-matched”:

“Bookmatching is the practice of matching two (or more) wood or stone surfaces, so that two adjoining surfaces mirror each other, giving the impression of an opened book. As applied to wood, bookmatching is usually done with veneer (produced in one of several ways), but can also be done with solid wood”. Wikipedia

I wanted to carry over the fleur-de-lis pattern from the cover design onto the box and decided a good way of doing this would be to get a series of these laser-cut. I know a wonderful jeweller called Emily Kidson who uses Formica laminate in her work. She gave me some pieces a while back to try out and this seemed a perfect opportunity to have a go with it. I also had some wood veneers in my drawers so had some cut in this too.

I was really pleased with how the laminate fleur-de-lis looked when I got them back and set about working on how to place them on the box lid.

I also wanted to include one gold-plated fleur-de-lis so pierced the same shape from brass sheet. I then soldered some posts to the back of it so it could be physically fixed into the box lid.

As well as the fleur-de-lis I want the jousting poles of the knights to be made from metal. I rounded the ends of some brass rod with a file, then removed the file marks with wet-and-dry paper before cutting the rod down. I then soldered these ends onto some posts - the smaller of the three circles was for the sample board.

I then had all these metal pieces polished and plated with 2 microns of gold.

The ebony was finished with Danish Oil and then a layer of bees wax. Under where each of the fleur-de-lis were to be placed on the lid I drilled some holes and pushed through brass pins.

The heads of which were wound with a length of thread to add some detail with the ends of the threads being glued in place inside the lid.

Because the box had been oiled and waxed, I needed to abrade behind where they were due to be stuck down in order for the glue to have something to bind to. I cut out a paper template of the fleur-de-lis and used this through which to score the wood with the end of a scalpel blade.

The laminate fleur-de-lis could then be stuck down with PVA, a few at a time, and a weight placed on top of the whilst the glue dried.

As a change from shop-bought catches, for this particular box I wanted to add an additional element in the form of a jousting stick to act as a clasp. I first covered some thin brass tube with Japanese paper using Lascaux Acrylic Adhesive. This glue is extremely elastic with the dry film remaining permanently tacky. It is great for adhering paper to non-porous surfaces such as metal so was perfect for the job.

Once there was a layer of Japanese paper adhered to the brass I had a suitable surface upon which to stick a leather layer to it. I first wound a strip of turquoise leather along the length with PVA and then stuck a thinner strip of purple leather on top of this around the join along the whole length.

I stuck a bead on the tail end and had the “handle” end machined to my dimensions. Each of these two ends had a pin attached to it that was glued inside the brass rod. The jousting stick then had to have an tubular attachment made to be fixed to the box for it to feed through and close the container.

This was made by soldering some flat sheet to some brass tube, the inner diameter of which fitted the end of the turned brass jousting pole handle. This was then cut in two and one half of each drilled and pinned into a chiselled groove on the top/bottom of the box. When the lid was closed they married up and the jousting pole could be slid through it therefore holding the box closed. A second tube of the same specification was added a bit further down for the beaded end of the pole to sit in. These pieces were also covered in thin leather.

The box was hinged and then lined with felt, mainly to protect the book, but also to conceal the pins and thread that were visible inside the lid of the box.

I have now made it common practice to order each of my bindings and accompanying wooden boxes a conservation grade box to be housed in. I order these from the Bodliean Library and label them so they can be identified on a book shelf. The letters for this outer box were cut from the title panel for the ebony box, therefore the offcuts weren’t wasted.

And so comes to an end the making of this binding! But not to the work surrounding it as I had to photograph and catalogue the book for my website.

I have a new website in the making at present by my husband George therefore this will be one of the last to appear on my existing site. With that however comes a lot of work as I assess what from my old site makes the cut to the new one.

I will also be amalgamating this blog onto it so I no longer have so many different platforms to publish things on! I will however have a bit of a cross over where my posts will appear simultaneously on both for a while until the change happens for good.

I will leave you with a few select photos of the final piece in all it’s glory, for more please visit my website.

FRONT COVER:

ENDPAPERS AND DOUBLURES

SPINE DETAIL OF VIENNE:

COVER DETAIL:

BOOK IN BOX:

On an end note, if you are interested in making your own “sample board” I am due to teach a class for the DB/SoB joint workshops in February next year in the beautiful Bradford-on-Avon, details can be found on both the DB and SoB websites over the coming weeks.

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zephrbabe · 7 years

Text

I guess I’ve always had a soft spot for Darcy being a BAMF SHIELD analyst/agent. I’m also partial to the occasional fic with the STRIKE guys when they’re still pre-Hydra-reveal where we can pretend we don’t know they’re actually neo-nazis. *sigh*

So this woke me up at 5:30am.

Debriefs normally went much better than this.

Normally she stood in front of the group of STRIKE agents seated around a horseshoe table in the conference room and went over the mission details. Normally they took notes and added comments, and it was such old hat that they could often finish in less than an hour.

But today Agent Rumlow just would not. Pay. Attention.

He was mission leader, Alpha Team Leader, and general STRIKE leader; she knew he knew how to be professional. Instead of his normal attitude- that of intimidating competence- today he was just being intimidating. He didn’t interject pertinent mission details or offer understated praise to his subordinates. He just sat coiled taut in his seat, flicking his pen over his knuckles like he’d rather be holding a knife. And he was staring at the back of her head with the intensity of a thousand burning suns, leaving her to direct Alpha Team’s frankly rambling mission account feeling like a bug under a microscope.

It didn’t help that the mission hadn’t been totally smooth. The team had gone in to shut down some kind of chemical warfare lab, only to find that Darcy’s intel wasn’t up-to-date. The placed had been cleared out; all the scientists gone, along with most of the equipment. There had been booby traps, which had mostly been deactivated instead of tripped. Agent Denisovitch had been sprayed with a mild corrosive, and was in medical. That was the sum total of casualties, which was far fewer than some STRIKE debriefs Darcy had had the displeasure of attending.

Darcy didn’t enjoy debriefs. She was pretty sure no one did. She was tired; they were all tired. Catching a couple of hours of sleep on a sofa in the Incident Room while the team were en-route back to base wasn’t her idea of well-rested. So when she fumbled the hard-copy mission images (thank you, cutting-edge spy company, for keeping the hell that is photocopiers in my life), and had to crouch down in the middle of Agent Yuan’s account to pick them up, Rumlow’s muttered, “Jesus” was the straw that pissed off the cat.

She rose from her crouch and whipped around, the photos clutched in her hands. Darcy would have been proud of her grace under anger if she hadn’t been feeling so self-conscious under Rumlow’s full glare. “What is your damage, Agent?” Darcy hissed.

Agent Yuan’s mouth audibly clicked shut in the taut silence of a room full of STRIKE agents on high alert.

Mortification was heating her face, but Darcy couldn’t stop herself now. She could feel all the perceived professionalism drain away from her. And fucking Brock Rumlow (who names their kid Brock?! Do they want to end up with an asshole in the family?) just sat there, tension in his forearms and jaw, and said nothing while she lost her shit.

“Was there some aspect of my handling you think was lacking, Team Leader? Would you prefer it if I were a full field agent? Is the fact that I can’t crush a man’s skull with my thighs critical for mission support? Or maybe you found fault with my tech skills? I’m sure you could spare one of the A-Team to tinker with every new computer system you find, instead of me doing it remotely; I’m sure it’d only take them a few extra mission hours to get past any encryptions. Was that it? Maybe that’s not it; maybe you just object to my appearance or the quality of my photocopies. Perhaps you’d prefer to run this debrief yourself.” She was running out of righteous anger in the fraught silence of the debrief room, but refused to let him see it. “I repeat: What is your damage?” She loomed over him as best she could in her sensible flats and barked, “Speak.”

“I haven’t been able to think about anything but bending you over this table since the second you walked through the door.”

So that was what a dead silence sounded like.

No one seemed to breathe, least of all Darcy. Agent Rumlow clenched his jaw as though shutting his mouth more firmly could pull what he’d just said back into nonexistence.

Darcy recovered first, though she staggered back a step. She couldn’t- didn’t dare- look away from Rumlow’s face. What she’d brushed off as a stoic and closed-off expression of annoyance and disgust seemed to be, now that she was actually looking at him, a full-blown attack of lust. His dark eyes were fully dilated, and his mouth was shiny and pink where he’d been biting his lip, apparently behind her back.

“Rollins?” Darcy called softly, briefly frozen like a prey animal when they sense a predator. “Are you sure Denisovitch was the only one who tripped a chemical trap?”

Rollins cursed expressively in Farsi, which seemed to bring some animation back to the gathered STRIKE agents. “I’m sorry, Agent Lewis,” he rumbled ruefully. She could hear the slump in his shoulders. “He said it must’ve been a dud.”

Darcy felt like cursing, herself. Thor save me from macho military-types. The professional mien she’d briefly lost seemed to flow right back into place, and she straightened her shoulders. She didn’t turn her back to Rumlow, however. Mimicking the tone of voice Agent Hand used on everyone under Level 7, Darcy said, “Debrief will be in recess until 1400 hours. Get some rest. Dismissed.”

The awkward, near-silent shuffle of STRIKE Team Alpha leaving the conference room was significantly different than the way her mission debriefs usually ended. They’d left all their paperwork behind, too, she was sure, so she’d have to reserve the room until they could come back to finish the debrief in six hours.

She felt Rollins close at her side. Thank Thor- she didn’t want to be alone with Rumlow in an altered state, especially when he looked like he was holding himself as taut as a piano wire. “Agent Rollins, be so good as to escort Agent Rumlow to medical. I’ll alert the lab we may have a 725-c situation.”

“Sex pollen? Why not 725-a, truth serum?”

“Besides the dilated pupils, elevated breathing, and the fact that he hasn’t looked away from me in the last five minutes?” Darcy quipped, keeping up the eye contact with Rumlow even though she could feel her cheeks reddening. “I think the fact that he said he wants to fuck me on a table kind of gives it away.”

Rollins expelled a breath of air that might have been a laugh. “That’s exactly why I though it had to be truth serum.”

The heat of Darcy’s embarrassment turned instantly into a heat of another kind. She suddenly had the urge to press her thighs together for a little relief. Rumlow must have clued in somehow, because he jerked in his seat, leaning towards her and gripping the table.

Never let it be said that Darcy Lewis didn’t know when to be professional. She didn’t let this revelation about her nominal boss, or her reaction to it, bleed into her words when she crisply addressed Rumlow,

“We’ll let medical determine what exactly you were hit with. I’ll expect you when we resume at 1400.”

He stood carefully, in just the way he had that time he’d been thrown into a wall on a mission; he moved like he was ignoring significant pain, and only controlling his muscles with pure determination. There didn’t seem to be anything physically wrong with him; Darcy gave him a once-over to make sure, but her eyes snagged on the one small difference (ok, not small, not small; Jesus, Lewis, the man is having a medical emergency, stop gaping) to how he normally appeared.

She glanced up and, Thor damn it, he’d caught her looking. The way his lip curled was probably supposed to be a leer. He was too tense to really pull it off, and Darcy was a little amazed how good it looked on him anyway.

There was zero chance she was willing to attempt witty banter with either agent. She was tired, stressed, and now she was horny to boot. Darcy needed them gone, like, two minutes ago.

She figured a direct order had worked on him before; wouldn’t hurt to try one again: “Go to medical. Now.”

Brock turned to leave as soon as the words left her lips. He seemed to relax a tiny bit once he’d stopped staring at her.

Turning to Agent Rollins, she said, “I’ll call ahead, so they know what to expect.” Rollins’ craggy face seemed on the verge of a grin. Darcy refused to let this bizarre turnabout get to her, since she’d already blown up at someone today. She schooled her face into the neutral mask all the probies had literally practiced in front of mirrors the second week of training. “If it’s a 725-a, he’ll be able to return to debrief before it wears off. If it’s a 725-c, they’ll probably have an antidote ready, and he’ll be able to return to debrief as scheduled.”

Rollins shrugged and moved to follow his CO, who was already in the hall, partway to the elevators. And walking with a slight hobble, she noted.

“Agent Rollins?” He paused and cocked his head in her direction. Darcy steeled herself and modulated her tone into Coulson-level neutrality, “If it’s a 725-c and they don’t have an antidote on hand, please advise them that Agent Darcy Lewis is the volunteer contact.”

A brusque nod, and he was gone.

Everyone thought Brock Rumlow was scary. Everyone. Including Darcy. On top of that, she answered to Agent Rumlow on missions. She was the best tech for their team, and she’d earned the respect of everyone on STRIKE, including Rumlow’s. Telling Rollins that she was willing to hump the everloving daylights out of his boss in the name of medical health could potentially compromise her professional standing with the team.

Problem was, she was more than willing. Problem was, she’d seen how beautifully he’d reacted to those two measly orders she’d thrown out, and her imagination was running rampant with all the possibilities of a man that skilled and hardened and�� and hard obeying her every lascivious whim. Problem was, knowing he was under the influence of a mystery compound didn’t dampen her interest in the slightest.

As she locked up the conference room and made for her quarters, Darcy found herself hoping that Brock Rumlow was in the grip of a 725-c with no known antidote, just so she could see exactly how unprofessional they could get.

#taserbones #darcy lewis #brock rumlow #debrief #sex pollen #no smut #definitely leading to smut though #725-c #the answer is deeply unprofessional

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worryinglyinnocent · 7 years

Text

Fic: Extraction (13/16)

Summary: Intelligence Agent Belle French has been given her most challenging assignment yet – one that will provide her agency with absolutely vital information on a practically untouchable arms dealer.

In addition to all the usual dangers any assignment carries, Belle also faces the edifying task of convincing Rum Gold to return to help the agency one last time. Agent Gold left the world of international espionage years ago, after an assignment went terribly wrong and ended in his imprisonment and torture, and he vowed never to return, but the agency cannot complete their mission without him…

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Read the previous chapters here on AO3.

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Thirteen

Seeing Regina now, Belle was once more reminded of her comparative youth. No longer dressed in sharp business attire, she still wore her hair braided over a practical jacket and jeans, a large rucksack hanging heavily from her shoulders. She was a legal adult, but she looked every inch the scared child running away from home, and in a way, Belle knew, that was what she was.

“I brought as much as I could without Mother getting suspicious,” she said quickly once they were all ensconced back in the room with the CCTV monitoring and Graham had gone to fetch a fresh batch of tea. She swung the bag off her back and kneeled on the floor with it, starting to pull out reams of photocopied paperwork and thrust it at the agents, but Gold just crouched beside her and closed a hand over hers, gently pushing the intelligence back into her bag.

“All in good time,” he said. “For now, we need to focus on you. You’ve done well, Regina. Not many young people would have the courage to do what you’ve done.”

“I just want to get out of here,” Regina pleaded.

“And we’ll get you out of here, as soon as possible. You have to understand that what we’re doing is dangerous, and not our original plan, but this isn’t the first time that any of us have done this. You can trust me, and Belle, and Emma.”

Regina nodded, and turned to glance over her shoulder at Daniel, who was standing awkwardly in the doorway. He too was dressed casually and carrying a backpack, but Belle could see that beneath his jacket he was still packing a weapon. He waved sheepishly to the agents.

“Erm, hi.”

Belle took pity on him, giving him a warm smile in return. “Hi, Daniel. You’ll be laying low here for a couple of days until we’ve got Regina out safely and made preparations for you. This is Graham, he looks after the place and he’ll take care of you.”

“Cup of tea?” Graham offered the tray up to Daniel, who took a mug gratefully.

“There’s not much you can do right now,” Belle continued, “but I’m sure that your presence here is appreciated.”

Regina nodded. “After I got your message I knew that something bad had happened and I thought it would be safer for Daniel if we left together. I didn’t want to leave him at Mother’s mercy.”

“That’s understandable. Now, Gold and Emma will go through your intelligence whilst I’ll get you set up with a new identity. We have an escape passport part-ready for you, but we’re going to need to change your appearance if we want to try and avoid suspicion.”

Regina nodded and handed her piles of paperwork to Gold, whose balance finally gave out and he sat down on the floor to read and scan the documents. Emma moved from her position in the corner of the room and sat down beside him without further comment, and Belle went towards the door, indicating for Regina to follow her.

“You’re not going to do anything too drastic, are you?” Regina asked.

“Well, we’re hardly in a position to be giving you any plastic surgery,” Belle said. “No, the biggest thing that you can do to change your appearance is your hair, so we’re going to cut and dye it.” Emma had brought all the supplies that they would need but had not been entirely comfortable with the idea of being responsible for this part of Regina’s new identity, stating that she really didn’t do ‘girl bonding’ and that was more Belle’s area of expertise. Belle raised an eyebrow at the memory of the conversation. True, she was more interested in clothes and make-up than Emma was, but their line of work and the lives they had chosen meant that she had just as little time or inclination to devote to such pursuits as Emma did. Still, Emma was perfectly capable of doing document management, and as the lead on the mission, Belle felt that it was her duty to stay close to Regina, to build up a rapport with her and gain her trust, the same inherent trust that she had placed in Gold. If that meant the strangest session of ‘girl bonding’ time that Belle had ever participated in, then so be it. Idly she wondered if Mal or Blue had ever had to do anything like this, and how they had handled it. Although extractions usually followed set procedures, every case was different, and in this case, getting Regina relaxed and comfortable in her new identity was key.

They went into the bathroom and Regina rinsed her hair through in the sink, giving it a melancholic sigh before shrugging and letting Belle come at her with the scissors, the long dark locks shearing neatly into a short bob around her ears.

“You’re very calm about this,” Belle remarked as she snipped.

“It’ll grow out,” Regina said. “I’m not the type to get emotional about things like that. A few inches of hair is a small price to pay for freedom.” There was a long pause and Belle continued to work, making sure that despite the lack of professional touch, it didn’t look too much like a hack job.

“I don’t know what impression of me you might have received,” Regina continued eventually, once Belle had put the scissors down and had handed her a sachet of red five-wash hair dye and a pair of rubber gloves. “But I’m not scared. Not really. I’m not scared of doing this and I’m not too scared of going up against Mother. I mean, she’s my mother, I think I’m always going to be a bit scared of her. I just keep thinking about what everyone stands to lose if this goes wrong. I’m more worried about Daniel and Gold and you.”

“We’ll be all right,” Belle assured her. “There are enough of us that we can protect ourselves and you. Once we get you out of Avalon, then there’ll be no more need to worry.”

“I know.” She paused. “I don’t want to marry Leo White and I never have, but I feel kind of sorry for his daughter in a way. She was all for me being her new mommy although I’m only twelve years older than her. She’s a sweet kid. I’ll miss her.”

Although it was just chatter to pass the time, Belle allowed herself to feel a little bit of pride her achievement. During their previous two meetings, Regina had addressed herself primarily to Gold and had been wary of Belle, but now she seemed to be opening up a little more. Belle found herself wanting to ask more about Regina’s relationship with Gold, a strange relationship considering neither had met the other before the previous day, but a relationship nonetheless. She decided to refrain, and the two sat in silence for a while as they waited for the hair dye to set. Regina picked at the red-stained gloves.

“I just want to be normal,” she said eventually. “Is that too much to ask?”

“Never.” Belle smiled. “You’ve been put into an impossible position through no fault of your own. There’s no shame in wanting normality for you and the man you love.”

“Thanks.”

They continued to sit in silence whilst they waited for the dye to take; by the time they’d rinsed it through the bathroom looked as if a triple homicide had taken place in there.

“If anyone asks, all the towels were red when we got here,” Belle muttered as they wrung out Regina’s hair, trying to dry it as quickly as possible so that they could get her ID photos done without it looking too obvious that she’d recently changed her appearance. Regina gave a snort of laughter, and the slight humour helped to ease the tension in the room and the situation, giving them a little, perhaps forlorn, hope that it was all going to be all right and there was nothing to worry about.

“Belle.” Emma’s voice was sharp and urgent through her earpiece.

“Go ahead, Emma.”

“We’ve just seen something on the CCTV footage from the next street over that doesn’t quite add up so I’m going to go and take a look. We’re hoping that it’s nothing, but it can’t hurt to be overly cautious right now. Stay away from the back windows of the house.”

“Copy.” The bathroom that they were in had no windows at all, as evidenced by the whining fan that was wheezing away in the background and the greenish spots of mould that adhered to the ceiling. All things considered the safehouse was very clean and tidy, but it was clear that it wasn’t a place that was often used. Mal had probably picked their most off-the-grid location in the hope that if Killian had gleaned any of their safehouses, he wouldn’t have got this one.

“Is everything all right?” Regina asked.

“Hopefully.” Whilst she didn’t want to worry the younger woman unduly, she also didn’t want to instil her with false confidence, and she needed Regina’s trust more than anything at this moment. If Regina chose now to get cold feet and pull out of the mission, then there was no knowing what might happen. “Emma’s gone to investigate something, so if there is anything amiss, hopefully we can cut it off at the pass.”

“It’s all too real now,” Regina said. “It’s really happening.”

Belle busied herself with the camera; Jefferson had rebuilt it out of an ordinary polaroid camera to take instant passport style shots without the need for a separate printer. The light wasn’t the best, but since Avalon’s electronic infrastructure could be spotty at the best of times, it was a perfectly passable booth quality photograph. They went downstairs again, back into the living room where Gold was scanning through all of Regina’s papers.

“I have to say that this is probably going to keep your office in work for weeks, Belle,” he said, before adding to Regina: “Your mother is very trusting.”

“Yes.” Regina didn’t sound at all happy about the fact and Gold looked up at her.

“You’re doing the right thing,” he said. “This is going to save countless lives, including your own.”

“I know,” Regina said. “That’s not what I’m worrying about. I’m more concerned with the comparative ease with which I got the information. Nothing has ever been locked to me, I’ve always had almost complete access to everything on the estate and I thought that was because Mother thought I would never betray her like this, but now, with everything that’s happening, I’m not so sure.”

“You think that maybe it was bait?” Graham posited. Regina gave a grim nod.

“Well, that’s not something that we have the luxury of thinking about right now,” Belle said. “What’s done is done, and no matter what happens, we now have this information on record, locked down at the residency.” She took Regina’s bag from Gold and handed it to the younger woman, exchanging it for the photographs and the half-made escape passport. “You should probably get changed; if anyone notices you’re missing then they’re going to make a note of what you were last seen wearing before you came here, and it will look suspicious if you’re wearing the same thing as in your passport photo.”

Regina nodded and stepped out into the dining room at the back of the house; the curtains were drawn and there were no lights on so there was no chance of being seen from the window. Nevertheless, Belle stayed in the doorway; Regina was the most important part of this mission and sometimes modesty had to take a back seat in the interests of keeping one’s asset alive.

“Erm, we’ve got a problem!” Graham yelped from the living room. Regina ran out, still buttoning her shirt, and she and Belle re-entered the operations room.

“What’s up?” Belle asked.

“Emma’s earpiece just went offline,” Gold explained, looking down at the laptop screen that Graham had open on his lap that was monitoring the radio signals.

“Could it just be patchy tech?” Daniel asked. There was a note of desperate hope in his voice, and Gold shook his head.

“These things can dive fifty feet underwater and not lose signal,” he said. “It’s the best tech the agency’s got. Most likely is that she’s sustained a blow to the head that’s knocked it out of her ear or damaged it in some way.” He got to his feet, cursing under his breath, and his hand went to his holster.

“No,” Belle said, stepping into his way. “We need you alive and we all need to get out of here.”

“I am not leaving Emma behind,” Gold snapped. “If she’s in trouble then we have to get her out of it.”

“Our priority is Regina,” Belle said. She didn’t want to leave Emma behind any more than Gold did, but there were other agents on the ground in Avalon who could help her.

“Guys, we’ve got…” Emma’s voice crackled into life in Belle’s ear, and a sharp shriek of feedback made both her and Gold flinch. “…out back…”

The feed cut out again and Gold looked at Belle.

“We need to leave,” he said flatly.

It was clear that the safehouse had been compromised in some way, but by whom they had no way of knowing. Emma had said something about the back of the house, but whether she was warning them away from it or telling them it was clear, they had no way of knowing.

“All right, we really need to move.” Graham got up from the sofa and pushed the oversized piece of furniture back towards the wall as if it weighed nothing at all, pulling back the faded rug that covered the floorboards and revealing a trap door in the floor. As he threw it open, Belle was half-expecting to see a secret passageway leading out to freedom, but the large arsenal of weapons that was cached in the cubby hole under the floor was, she had to admit, just as impressive. Graham pulled out a pistol and a large calibre shotgun, checking both were loaded. “You go down through to my apartment and down into the cellar; go along to the left as far as you can and you’ll come out in the garden of the last house on the terrace; it’s unoccupied, no need to worry about being seen by the owners. I’ll hold them off.”

Belle, who had been checking her own weapon and seeing that Gold had his primed, saw exactly why they needed to move. On the camera feed from the front of the house, a car had pulled into the street and stopped outside the safehouse. Three figures were getting out of it, figures that she recognised as Cora Mills, Zelena West, and Cora’s huge bodyguard turned general heavy for all seasons. She’d tracked them down. Belle wanted to know how on earth it had happened, but there would be time to work that out later, once they were all safely away.

“Come on.” Gold led the way out of the living room and they made their way through the house to the stairs down to Graham’s apartment, Belle bringing up the rear and Regina and Daniel between them, the young lovers exchanging worried glances every few seconds. Gold grabbed a flashlight off the wall in the kitchen and was about to open the cellar door when a bullet sailed inside, puncturing the kitchen window and lodging in the wall an inch from where Gold’s hand had been. The four escapees were on the floor in a second, and silence reigned for a long moment. No more shots were fired, and Belle felt the bile beginning to rise in her gut. Emma was out there somewhere, and gunshots were being exchanged. She crawled along the floor to the counter below the window, turning on her phone camera and raising it out into the open just a little to see if she could see anything. She saw Emma crouched behind the rickety looking wooden shed, her gun drawn, keeping in cover, but she couldn’t see who had shot at them. On the other side of the narrow room, Gold used his cane to nudge the cellar door open a little way. There were still no shots fired, so whoever had tried to pick them off before had obviously stopped watching them. He inched it open a little further, enough for Regina to wriggle through, and he shone his torch down into the darkness to check that the coast was clear.

Above them, there was the persistent pounding of someone attempting to break down a wooden door that was reinforced with military grade steel and several locks, and then the deafening blast of someone shooting all the locks with a calibre of weapon a little more high spec than the average handgun. Was it too much to hope for that one of the civilians that lived on the street above had noticed all this drama going on and called the police? True, the police were probably not the best people to help them, and in a country as corrupt as Avalon they were all probably in Cora’s pockets anyway, but anything was better than nothing. She hoped Graham had had time to send out an SOS to the residency, even though that might end up just getting them all killed.

Gold beckoned to Regina, who shuffled along the floor on hands and knees towards the cellar door; he handed her his flashlight, covering her with his pistol as she inched towards the gap, taking care not to rise above the level of the counter. Belle wished she knew what Emma was doing out there, but at least she had not heard any more shots from outside.

The thought entered her head too soon as a hail of bullets was exchanged above them. She heard Graham shout out in pain and winged up a prayer that he was all right. There was radio silence on her earpiece; even in these times he knew better than to alert their assailants to their position when they were poised on the brink of escape. Footsteps clattered above them, doors being kicked open.

“Go!” Gold mouthed to Regina, nudging her towards the cellar door. She reached a hand forward, groping for the step, and in that moment, Belle realised why no-one had shot at the opening door. The sound of a pistol cocking in the inky darkness beyond the cellar door sounded terrifyingly loud and chilling, and Belle heard Gold swear violently under his breath, taking the safety off his own gun and aiming blindly. Before he could shoot, however, Regina screamed as a hand reached out of the dark and grabbed her collar, hauling her to her feet, an arm wrapping around her throat in a chokehold as the other hand pressed the pistol to her temple and the attacker stepped into the light.

“Sorry, love, no escape that way.” The man was tall with scruffy black hair and beard, a leering smile on his face as Regina struggled against his hold on her, her face almost as red as her freshly dyed hair.

“Killian,” she gasped. “Why are you doing this?”

“Well, your mother pays significantly better than these losers,” Killian said, nodding towards Gold. “Put the gun down, grandpa, or I blow her bloody head off.”

He was bluffing, at least, Belle thought he was. Surely Cora would want her daughter back alive, why else would she come out here herself rather than just sending the muscle on her payroll? On the other hand, when it came to Cora Mills, nothing could be taken for granted.

Gold took the magazine out of his gun and tossed the empty pistol towards Killian, glowering at the man.

“You too, princess.”

Fuming, Belle did the same, keeping Regina alive at the forefront of her mind, no matter what that might entail. The one thought keeping her going was that he had not disarmed Daniel. The young man wasn’t really in a position to fire, but at least they still had an arsenal up their sleeve.

“Oh my,” Killian said. “You have a lot of explaining to do to Mummy, haven’t you?”

#rumbelle fic #rumbelle #spies!AU #Fic: Extraction #Stable Queen

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a-h-arts · 8 years

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5.0 out of 5 stars Classic

5.0 out of 5 stars What a lovely book and a tribute to the late Howard Ashman! This book is an absolute must for any Disney fan and certainly about Beauty and the beast. With the upcoming re release of the blu ray of this film, this book gives an extra dimension about what has been created by these Disney artists. It's beautifully written and has great photos. The book gives you more insight in the story of Beauty and the Beast in general. It gave me tears to read the story about (the late) Howard Ashman. What an absolute genius he was! The world (and certainly Disney) lost a great artist with him! The book has a wonderful cover and I can't just put the book in a bookshelf. It sits beautifully on display at home and everybody coming in takes the book to have a look in it. Reactions speak for themselves... A must own book and highly recommended! I'm a big fan and it's an essential work of a masterpiece and a tribute to the artists! Go to Amazon

5.0 out of 5 stars :))))))) Nothing to say about this book. It's a real pleasure for the eyes. It have a good presentation in itself and the art is rather diversified (pencil, concept art...). I haven't read it yet but it seems quite complete and interesting. I particullary like the titles of the chapters which echoe to the movie's songs. I have several disney artbook and it is one of my favourite ! It's just a shame that it doesn't have more pages because it's not that big for an artbook. But you will find quality. Go to Amazon

2.0 out of 5 stars Nah This books fails miserably in comparison to other Disney "Art of" books. Very little concept art. Too much text. Too pricey. I only got it to give it as a gift to my sister. She is a huge fan of Beauty and the Beast. Not sure what she really thought of it, she seemed excited, but I looked at it and humm....nah. Go to Amazon

5.0 out of 5 stars New and a bit Alarming.... What's all this talk about flimsy photocopy printing? Are we all holding the same book? My copy is beautifully printed and the stock of paper is a fine quality. Someone seems to have an axe to grind if they're complaining about the paper quality. It's nonsense.It's a great book with lots of storyboard art as well as Cleaned-up animation prior to color and yes it does have several production stills from the finished film. I think it's nice to see the progression from storyboard to finished product. If your a fan of this movie or collect Disney's "Making of" books then this will fit along nicely with any others you may have. That being said, I found Disney's Art of Animation by Bob Thomas much more informative and included more of the Behind the scenes photos and Glen Keane sketches.As for the complaint about the pages covering the stage production... Look at the "sneak peek" preview that Amazon gives where you can randomly see pages from the book. There's a Table of Contents and Chapter IX clearly says, "Beauty & the Beast comes to the stage." It's clear so why complain?So... I got it. Am I sorry I got it? Nope. I'll treasure it like I do all my other Disney books. Hope this review helps anyone with doubts about the paper quality issue. There's NO issue. Go to Amazon

5.0 out of 5 stars If you fell in love with the Disney movie Beauty and the Beast then ... If you fell in love with the Disney movie Beauty and the Beast then you will love this book. Very, very nicely made. Go to Amazon

3.0 out of 5 stars Good Content, Bad Craftsmanship I haven't read through this yet, but the content seems rather nice. That said...I've never written a review before, but I had to warn others, because the print quality of this book is the worst I've ever seen in an "Art of..." book. For anyone who has ever seen or held a print-on-demand book which are printed on copy machines instead of created via a four-color print process, that cheap copy-machine feel is how this book feels. Cheap paper and lousy printing. I can't prove it, but I'd almost swear this thing was printed on a copy-machine. It's that bad.However, if you are only interested in the content, then this book will satisfy. I would still buy this book for the art, even though I think there's nothing like a well-crafted book. And "Tale As Old As Time" is nothing like a well-crafted book. If you do decide to buy it, just throw some mylar around the book-jacket and at least the cover will feel nice. Go to Amazon

#Historical #art #book

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thislovintime · 1 year

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Photo by Milbert Orlando Brown.

"When asked what kind of music Tork likes to perform best, his response was as versatile as his talent itself. If he’s by himself, he enjoys playing Bach, seeing himself as part of Bach’s audience as well as a performer. 'I love the five-string banjo and some of those lonely old mountain songs.’ But if he had his own band, he would play pop blues. He said he likes to play blues guitar 'hours on end.' He also enjoys singing with [James Lee] Stanley. 'The harmony is great.' But he feels his flexibility isn’t all it’s cracked up to be. 'My problem is I’m just too versatile.' Why is that a problem? He explained if he were more narrowly focused, his music would be easier to sell commercially. 'And I do want to make a living out of this.' But his philosophy doesn’t sound very capitalistic. 'We’ve all got to stick together or we’re all going to come unglued.' He noted a drive for only one’s own fortune is at the expense of others. 'Without community, the individual is dead.' When asked if he would ever consider expressing his philosophy in the songs he writes, he noted the question 'bemused' him. He said all music should be inviting, and the singer/writer can’t always 'finger point.'" - The Life, May 3, 1996

#Peter Tork #Tork quotes #90s Tork #long read #1996 #1990s #James Lee Stanley #screenshots #Peter deserved better #more for the solid Tork advice files #<3 #<333 #sorry about the photocopy quality of the photo #Tork performances #The Life (newspaper)#can you queue it

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popofventi · 7 years

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Mental Yoga Sunday / 5 Favorite Long Form Reads This Week / Issue No. 18

"The only means of strengthening one's intellect is to make up one's mind about nothing -- to let the mind be a thoroughfare for all thoughts." -- John Keats

Mental Yoga Sunday posts are meant to be like a big mute button you aim at the rest of the world. Just you, your chair, a mug, a spot next to a dust-filled sunny spot or a rainy window. Take in a long form read...sip by sip.

A Weird MIT Dorm Dies, And A Crisis Blooms At Colleges (Wired)

"As classes got underway this week, something was missing at the Massachusetts Institute of Technology. Something weird.

The sidewalks of Cambridge were jammed with students and their boxes, as they always are during the first week of September. There was nowhere to park. Moving vans blocked traffic on every street. Freshmen walked the “infinite corridor” of the main building as their parents took photos and consulted maps, mortifying their children. Tanned professors returning from vacation unlocked their labs. Tour guides pointed out the nuclear reactor in the center of campus. (It’s easier to miss than it sounds.)

But about the weirdness: Across the street from the Media Lab, a grand neoclassical building rises at 70 Amherst Street, an L-shaped stone structure with a courtyard at its crook, over which look two ornate balconies held up by Doric columns. A large oak tree grows in the courtyard, a tire swing that for decades was tied to a sturdy branch is gone. All is quiet. You can hear the plink on stone each time an acorn drops.

This was Senior House, the oldest dormitory on campus, built in 1916 by the architect William Welles Bosworth. For 101 years it welcomed freshman and returning students. Since the ’60s it was a proudly anarchic community of creative misfits and self-described outcasts—the special kind of brilliant oddballs who couldn’t or didn’t want to fit in with the mainstream eggheads at MIT. Some did drugs and dropped out. Some did drugs and graduated. Others were proudly “straight edge,” eschewing drugs and regarding their bodies and minds as pristine temples. Many went on to create startups, join huge tech firms, and change the technological world as we know it." - Read Full Story

In Amish Country, The Future Is Calling (The New York Times)

"The Amish community is growing at a rate that may surprise outsiders — and that growth is helping to push the sect’s adoption of technology.

The Amish population in the United States is estimated at around 313,000, up nearly 150 percent from 25 years ago, according to researchers at Elizabethtown College near Lancaster. Large families are the chief reason: Married women have seven children on average, and Amish people marry at a higher rate and at a younger age than Americans over all.

In the Lancaster area, as open land has become scarce and more costly, the rapid population growth has pushed some Amish families into more rural areas in places like upstate New York. Others have left farming and moved into business trades. Moses Smucker, for example, opened a food store and sandwich shop at Philadelphia’s popular Reading Terminal Market. Six days a week, he is driven from the Lancaster area to Philadelphia.

“Philadelphia is very fast-paced,” he said. “Then I go home, and I can drive my horse. I enjoy horses. Some people don’t, but I do. It slows everything down."

His business, Smucker’s Quality Meats and Grill, caters to tourists and office workers near City Hall. It takes credit cards, and has four and a half stars on Yelp. (“Pot roast beef sandwich was PUUURFECT!!” one reviewer wrote.)

Referring to technology, Mr. Smucker said, “You have to do what you have to do to stay in business. People are starting to understand that." - Read Full Story

Seven Days of Heroin (Cincinnati Enquirer)

6:06 AM

“Good morning!”

Officer Tim Eppstein’s greeting wakes about a half dozen homeless people dozing beneath the I-71 overpass on Butler Street in Cincinnati. Their heads poke out from under dirty blankets, eyes squinting to see who’s there.

“You’re not under arrest,” Eppstein assures them. He’s making the rounds at Cincinnati homeless camps to hand out eviction notices.

As the residents of the makeshift camps slowly get to their feet, Eppstein encourages those addicted to heroin to get some help. He can see by the orange syringe caps littering the ground that many of them need it.

The brightening morning light reveals some familiar faces. Terri Byrd, 26, is here with her boyfriend. Eppstein knows she’s got warrants out for her arrest, mostly on charges of carrying drugs and syringes.

He explains to Byrd that he has to arrest her.

“I’m sorry,” Eppstein says.

The handcuffs snap shut, and tears burst from Byrd’s bright blue eyes.

Her boyfriend stuffs their belongings into a backpack and turns to his girlfriend, now slouched in the caged backseat of the police car.

He blows her a kiss. Then starts walking down Third Street, disappearing into the crowd of people making their way to work." - Read Full Story

From Prison To Ph.D.: The Redemption and Rejection of Michelle Jones (The Marshall Project & The New York Times)

"Michelle Jones was released last month after serving more than two decades in an Indiana prison for the murder of her 4-year-old son. The very next day, she arrived at New York University, a promising Ph.D. student in American studies.

In a breathtaking feat of rehabilitation, Jones, now 45, became a published scholar of American history while behind bars, and presented her work by videoconference to historians’ conclaves and the Indiana General Assembly. With no internet access and a prison library that skewed toward romance novels, she led a team of inmates that pored through reams of photocopied documents from the state archives to produce the Indiana Historical Society’s best research project last year. As prisoner No. 970554, Jones also wrote several dance compositions and historical plays, one of which is slated to open at an Indianapolis theater in December.

N.Y.U. was one of several top schools that recruited her for their doctoral programs. She was also among 18 selected from more than 300 applicants to Harvard University’s history program. But in a rare override of a department’s authority to choose its graduate students, Harvard’s top brass overturned Jones’s admission after some professors raised concerns that she downplayed her crime during the application process." - Read Full Story

The 25 Best Space Movies, Ranked (The Ringer)

"To qualify for the list, it’s not sufficient for a film to be sci-fi (Blade Runner doesn’t count). Nor are aliens alone enough (sorry, E.T., Close Encounters, and Arrival). The prerequisite is simple: To be eligible, a movie has to be at least partly set in space. Some of the movies below entirely take place in space, while in others, space makes more of a cameo. But if you’re wondering why a movie you love didn’t make our cut, an absence of actual space scenes might explain the snub." - Read Full Story

#Long Form Reading #Longreads #The Ringer #The New York Times #The Marshall Project #Cincinnati Enquirer

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