#Specialty Glass Market

[moody-alcoholic]

Chapter 1 - The Job.

I just don't know when to stop, if I don't have like 20 projects going at once I get bored. I waited until I had a name though, no longer will I be titling everything 'untitled XYZ fic. It was actually my fiancée who came up with the name.

Work summary: 141 retired and decided to open a delivery company. Only it's not a delivery company, it's a cover for less legal practices. Need a creepy stalker out your life? Someone owes you money? You need to disappear to a new life? Special Delivery Service has got you covered, for a reasonable fee.

Chapter Summary: 5.5k words, Simon x reader, female reader, name used: Dani (this is just personal preference, I don't like using Y/N.) You accept a job offer to work as an office admin for a commercial delivery company. Only the job is not quite as it seems and you come to learn neither are the people you work for.

CW: mentions of abusive ex, alcohol, language, flashbacks of domestic abuse.

masterlist - next

AO3 link

Enjoy <3

You see the job listing towards the bottom of the page: 

Office admin wanted! To start immediately. MUST have a background in logistics.  Send CV to: Price@SDS.co.uk Competitive salary. 

It was short, sweet, to the point and the most promising job posting you had seen all day. You had a background in logistics, you’d just spent the last 3 years working as a supply chain manager. Mainly it was just organising warehouse deliveries but it was experience none the less. You copy the e-mail and send the CV, with a job posting like this you didn’t expect to hear a response back for a few days.

It was already 8pm you’d been applying for jobs all day. You decided to give up for tonight, the sofa and the TV were calling you. You head into the kitchen rummaging through the fridge to see what sad meal you would cook up tonight. You pull out a box of Chinese leftovers, they still smell good. You tip them on a plate throwing it in the microwave as you pour yourself a glass of wine. Turning the TV on channel surfing when your phone starts ringing, you go to pick it up. It’s not a number you know but you swallow your nerves accepting it in case it’s about a job. 

“Hello?” You say.

“Hello is this Dani” A male voice comes through the other end.

“Yeah,” You reply feeling nervous all of a sudden, you sip the wine. 

“You applied for the office admin job?” The voice says back. You have to think for a second, he can’t mean the job you literally applied for less then 10 minutes ago. You look back over at the laptop screen the e-mail still open.

“Hello?” the voice says.

“Yes, sorry yeah, wow I didn’t expect to hear back so quickly.”

“Yeah, we need someone to start immediately, can you come down for an interview tomorrow?” 

“Sure what time?” You ask, you need this job, you need to get back on your feet. 

“I’ll message you the time, and the address.” He says, you hear noise in the background sounds like a door slamming.

“Thank you,” you say as you hear the microwave beep. 

“No problem, see you tomorrow.” He says and hangs up the phone. You take your food out the microwave and flop down on the sofa tuning into whatever soap was playing on the TV. You’re halfway through your food when you get a text with the address and a time. 10am. You copy the address and put it into google, now is a better time then ever to find out about this company. Special Delivery Service, SDS, you don’t know why that makes you chuckle, it makes you think of DFS, the sofa company. The address is close by only a few streets actually, you could walk there in about 20 minutes, that’s convenient at least. From the looks of the website it’s a commercial delivery company. ‘Discretion is our specialty’ it says as you continue reading, there is not much info just how to contact them for a quote. The pictures are mainly stock images bar the logo.

You’d never heard of them before but it’s not exactly like you’re in the market for commercial deliveries, it has good ratings though, that means something. You throw the phone to the side turning back to the TV. This was good, this is a good start it’s what you need to move on, maybe even a fresh start. It feels like the right time, newly out of toxic relationship, made redundant, all in less then a month.

Maybe you could use a nice change of pace, or maybe you would go to the interview tomorrow and it will be a complete waste of time. Either way it’s a step in the right direction and at least your mum will be happy you’ve found a job, you’re pretty sure she was dreading the thought of having to financially support you until you were back on your feet. Now you were definitely hoping the interview would will go well, the thought of having to rely on your mother to support you was the worst. You would rather ask your ex, Lord knows he owes you one. You finish the food and lounge around watching TV until you start to dose off. You peal yourself off the couch heading into bed, a good nights rest will do you good, besides you want to make a good impression tomorrow. 

—————————— 

You get to the building early, it’s sunny weather for once and you can see the large doors to the building flung open. You peak in and see delivery vans, the whole place looks like it was an ex-mechanic shop. A figure catches the corner of your eye, he’s talking to another man walking across the floor, you can’t hear what they’re saying but the shorter man seems enthusiastic about something. Before you can get a better look they disappear out of your line of sight. You look over to what you assume is the customer entrance, and walk in. There is a man sat behind the counter, he seems distracted by something angrily typing on a computer. He sighs as you reach the desk, his eyes flicking up to you, he scoots back in the chair.

“How can I help?” He asks, his demeanour changing, he’s got a nice smile. 

“I’m here for an interview,” You say suddenly feeling nervous. He nods getting up.

“Yeah of course, come through.” He says opening a hidden door in the counter and you walk though. He leads you through to the main room it still smells of fuel, this place definitely used to be a mechanic shop, you can see the covered up pits on the floor where they would access under the cars.

Your attention is drawn to the sound of laughing and you see the two men from earlier stood round a coffee machine. The taller man has his back turned to you while the shorter man is chuckling, hitting the taller man on the back. His eyes move to you, he’s fit, well built, tanned skin, he runs his hand through his slick mohawk, you could have swore he just winked at you. You turn your attention back to the man leading you as you reach a metal staircase.

The second floor-if you can even call it that-is furnished with sofa’s and a kitchenette, you can see a dart board and what looks like a pool table. Looks like a cool place to hangout. You feel bad for not asking the man his name as he leads you an office door. He knocks and you both wait. 

“Come in!” a voice calls, you think you recognise it, its the same person you spoke to on the phone yesterday. The door opens and you walk in. You look at the man sat behind the desk, he looks older then the other people you’ve seen, his beard makes him look older then you suspect for some reason, you can see the bags under his eyes like he could do with long nap.

“Thanks Kyle,” He says as you walk in. Okay, his name was Kyle you’d have to remember that. He nods leaving the room closing the door behind you. The man behind the desk gets up as you walk over to him. He comes round putting his hand out for you to shake it.

“John Price,” he says as he nods at you smiling. You nod back.

“Sit please, coffee? Tea?” He gestures to the chair and walks back round the desk. 

“I’m fine, thank you.” You look up at him smiling as you sit down. His office walls are massive windows looking down on the room below you can see people moving around now opening the back of the vans. You look back up at him as he takes a paper in his hand. 

“3 years as a supply chain manager, studied business in college, pretty impressive.” He says putting the paper back down. 

“Thank you,” you say, not that it’s really that impressive the only reason you did a business course was to make your parents happy. You had no idea what you wanted to do when you finished secondary school. 

“So do you have any experience in warehouse management?” He asks leaning forward on the desk. 

“Well at my last job towards the end, there was a lot of inventory organisation and I was pretty much left in charge of clearing the whole place out before the business went under.” You say, you’re not sure if that’s what he’s expecting, to be honest with the little research you managed to do and the vague job posting you were not sure what to expect. 

“The jobs pretty simple. There are three main aspects, the first is the most important; the clients send us a list of good they need transporting, it’ll be your job to assign it to a driver then create the invoices, paperwork, the system is already pretty automatic. A lot of it is just data entry if I’m being honest.” You smile at him as he continues, so far it seems like a pretty easy job. 

“The second part is when a client sends a special request, the system is not set up to handle them yet so they can come through as errors, with just an e-mail address attached. If you can assign them to someone great if not forward them on to me. The system will let you know if a driver has available delivery slots.” You nod as he finishes, you could handle this, data entry, assigning jobs to people, easy. 

“Sounds good so far.” You reply. He nods. 

“The last part is just your general office admin work, you’ll man the front desk, answer the phone, the boys will tell you if they need supplies ordering that kind of stuff. The hours are standard 9 to 5, 5 days a week, we’re closed Saturday Sunday.” He says spinning round in his chair and taking some paper from the printer. 

“I live close by actually it’s really convenient.” You say. 

“That’s nice, if you want the job I have a contract ready, you can start tomorrow then you’ll have the weekend off.” He says spinning back round straightening the paper out. That’s sudden, the job did say start immediately though, and you really need this job. 

“Of course, that’s great.” You say smiling, hoping he can’t see your hesitation. He pushes the stack of papers towards you, you flick through the first few pages of standard workers rights. 

“You’ll get 2 weeks paid vacation a year, sick leave and maternity leave should you need it kick in after a month of probation.” He explains, pretty standard. You flick through it to the end page with the salary break down. Holy shit! 

“The job requires a certain level of…Discretion.” He explains. “You’re compensated for the inconvenience.” 

“What like I can’t tell people were I work?” You ask confused. He looks at you like he’s trying to think of what to say. 

“We have clients who expect their information to be handled, appropriately. On top of that some of your colleagues like to keep their work and home life separate.” He says eventually, you frown. That’s strange and he didn’t answer your question. You nod like you understand though, regardless you’ll take the 'hush money.' Especially since you’ll be making more then you’ve never made for what is basically a data entry job, and maybe having to answer the phone a few times. It almost seems to good to be true. You skim over the rest of the legal jargon and company rules. 

“Any questions?” He asks as you pick up a pen, you shake your head and sign both pieces of the paper, then hand it to him. He smiles signing it too and ripping off one of the pages handing it back to you. 

“One last thing.” He says hesitating for a second. “Do you have a criminal record?” 

“No,” you shake your head. He stands nodding and you get up too, as he walks round the desk, heading for the door to his office and you follow him. 

“I’ll get one of the boys to show you round before you leave.” He says opening the door.

“MacTavish!” He calls as you follow him out the room. You watch as a man appears at the bottom of the steps, it’s the guy from earlier who was laughing. He’s defiantly good looking there’s no denying it. 

“Come show our new recruit around.” He nods coming up the stairs. 

“If you have any questions let me know and I’ll e-mail you a full copy of your contract.” John says as he puts his hand out and you shake it. 

“I will thank you,” you smile and he heads back into his office. 

“John MacTavish!” The man says extending his hand out to you, he’s got an accent for a second you look at him confused.

“Another John?” You ask as you shake his hand. 

“Aye, most people call me Johnny though.” He winks. Now you’re sure he winked at you earlier. He walks round you over to the sofa’s and the pool table. 

“This is where we chill out between deliveries, or just in general. Do you play?” He asks pointing at the pool table. 

“Once or twice, at the pub.” You say. You’re still trying to pin his accent, Welsh or Scottish? You’re too embarrassed to ask. He comes back over to you and you see he’s walking with a limp, it’s especially obvious as you follow him down the steps and he has to grip the banister for support. 

“This is were we load the vans up with anything we need, toilets over there and next to them is the store room.” He says pointing to the rooms directly under the upstairs office. There are metal shelves filled with all different kinds of things from basic office supplies to what looks like medical equipment and machinery. The store room door is the only door you’ve seen with a key-code lock on it, makes sense. There is a long table surrounded by chairs and a projector against a far wall. You look over to see another man sat at the table typing on a laptop. 

“This is Simon, Simon Riley.” Johnny says as he takes you over. He’s wearing a hoodie pulled over his head and a black surgical mask. Maybe he’s a clean freak? Or maybe this was what John meant by ‘Your colleagues like to keep their work and home life separate.’ You extend your hand out too him as you approach. 

“Nice to meet you.” You say, he looks up at you for a second. His eyes are beautiful, a dark caramel, thick eyebrows and you can see strands of blonde hair peaking out from under his hood. He shakes your hand, his grip is firm, you swallow hard. He’s giving off a different vibe then the rest of the people you’ve met so far, you almost want to run away from him. 

“Don’t worry about him he’s always grumpy in the morning.” Johnny says leaning into your ear. Simon rolls his eyes and turns his attention back to typing on the laptop. John, Johnny, Simon and Kyle, you repeat the names in your head so they’re burned into your memory. Johnny continues his tour showing you round the main floor, you were right as he explained the building used to be a mechanics until they took it over. Before that it was an abandoned munitions processing plant from the second world war. The building did look old, stylish red brick, huge arched windows that let in a lot of natural light. The doors were even old on rollers, thick and wooden. The more you looked around the more it reminded you of the old workhouses you’d seen in history books. Johnny leads you through to the lobby, the only part of the building that seems to have been renovated in the last 10 years. 

“This is Kyle Garrick, we call him Gaz.” Johnny says as Kyle stands up and you shake his hand. He’s fit too, dark skinned, short hair and he’s got a lovely smile, London accent you can tell he’s local too. 

“This will be where you work.” Johnny says pulling the chair out. 

“I’m sure Price will give you the rundown tomorrow on how the system works, we’re still working on getting it up and running properly.” Johnny says enthusiastically. You nod looking round at the desk, there is a large printer/photocopier in the corner and a plant that looks like it’s seen better days. At least the computer is up to date and honestly you can work with this. 

“So nervous for your first day?” Johnny asks as Kyle sits back down. 

“Not really.” You say smiling. 

“Good lass, that’s what we like to hear!” Johnny says patting you on the shoulder. Scottish, definitely Scottish. Kyle chuckles as he goes back to typing on the computer. You feel like now is the best time to take your leave. You thank Johnny and tell them both you’ll see them tomorrow. 

“Wait a second lass, here.” Johnny reaches into his jacket pocket and pulls out a business card.

“Any questions drop me a message.” He smiles. You nod pocketing the card and heading out. You look back at the building as you leave seeing Johnny wave, you wave back awkwardly. Why would anyone care about keeping there home and work life separate when you work for a simple delivery company? You think back to Simon with the mask, maybe he’s just hygienic? Regardless it was a good job, close to home and good pay. You wouldn’t have to rely on your mum or your ex to get you through the month. At least that was a weight off your shoulders.  

—————————— 

Later that evening your mother calls.

“Hey mum.” You say as you reluctantly pick up the call, not really feeling in the mood for her energetic energy, especially after Johnny’s enthusiastic tour.   

“Hey sweetie! I was just thinking about you today and I thought I would call to tell you, Anne from church has a job opening at her son’s restaurant. You know Chris? He works at that nice Italian place, well I said you were looking for a job and Anne said she would put in a good word.” You sigh as you let your mother talk. 

“It’s okay mum I got a job today actually. I went for an interview and they offered me the job on the spot.” You say.

“Oh sweetie that’s amazing where is it?” She asks, you pause, maybe telling your over sharing mother about a job you were warned required discretion was not the best idea. 

“It’s just a small firm in the city centre, they were looking for a logistical analyst.” You say lying through your teeth. 

“Oh well that sounds fancy, I hope it pays well if you’ll have to be trudging into the centre of London everyday.” You hear her chuckle.

“It does mum don’t worry, I start tomorrow actually.” 

“That’s fantastic, I’m sure you’ll do great.” 

“Thanks mum.” You say smiling. There’s a pause on the line.

“Have you spoken to Joe?” She asks, you sigh. 

“No mother I have not spoken to him since we broke up.” You reply bitterly wanting to end the conversation now.  

“He’s been asking about you, you blocked him or ignored him or something but sweetie I think you should talk to him he misses you.” You sigh, of course he’s turned on your mum, your sweet mother who couldn’t hurt a fly and always sees the best in people. Even toxic abusers. 

“I’ll think about it mum, look I have to go I have an early start tomorrow.” You say.

“Okay well get a good rest and good luck for tomorrow I love you.” She says.

“I love you too,” you reply and hang up.

That night you dream of your ex. You’re still with him trapped in the cycle of wake, make him happy, work, make him happy, sleep, repeat. The verbal abuse, the physical abuse, the days he would lock you in the bathroom for hours on end.

You took the lock off the door when he moved out. You’re not sure why it just felt like the right thing to do. You bought a deadbolt for the front door and no longer sleep with the windows open, fearing he could scale the apartment building to get to you. That’s what he does in your dreams, he gets around all the precautions you put in place. You dream of him being in your space, questioning everything you do, insisting on checking your phone and e-mails, even your work ones. Anytime a male’s name came up he would grill you about it for hours, no matter what you said it always felt like he never believed you. But then he would make you feel good, take you to the bedroom and treat you like a princess and it was like he was a different person. 

‘He’s just protective sweetie’ your mother says. ‘He loves you.’ The bruises on your arm would say otherwise, wearing turtle necks in summer became your fashion statement for at least a year. ‘He probably doesn’t mean it have you tried talking to him?’ Your brother was no better, to busy with uni to care, too much of a mans man to understand. He’s gone now though and that’s what you have to remember, it’s easier said then done. 

 —————————— 

The next morning you show up early. Your body feels heavy after the restless night. You walk in seeing John bent over Kyle’s shoulder as their looking at something on the computer behind the counter. 

“Hey, maybe you can figure this out, we’ve been trying to get these documents to copy over and it’s just not working.” Price says as he steps back you walk round watching Kyle trying to drag and drop a file into a folder. An administrative error pops up. 

“Mind if I?” You gesture for Kyle to move he holds his hands up rolling away on the chair as you try again. You’re not the most competent with computers but you could probably figure it out. You try compressing the file first then moving it and it works. 

“What did you do?” Kyle asks.

“I think the file was too big so I compressed it, do you need it sent in an e-mail?” You ask looking at John.

“Yes please if you don’t mind.” You nod. 

“Coffee?” Kyle asks as he gets up out the seat heading into the main building. 

“Yes please.” You say turning to smile at him and pulling the chair over so you can sit down. Price explains how everything works as you get situated. He shows you the documents on the computer for how to answer the phone, and deal with walk in requests. The ‘system’ they have set up for assigning deliveries is basically just a glorified spreadsheet which is good, you can work with that it’s not too far out of your comfort zone. 

“If you have any questions just call, there is a direct line to my office if you press 1 on the phone.” You nod trying to take it all in as Kyle comes back with a cup of coffee. 

“I didn’t know how you took it so I just did milk.” He says. 

“That’s fine thank you.” You reply, as he places it next to you. Then heads back. John tells you again to ask if you need anything then also leaves you too it. You’re looking through the computer making sure you defiantly understand everything when Simon and Johnny walk in. 

“Morning,” you say to them smiling.

“Morning lass, guess we didn’t scare you away yesterday!” Johnny beams, he seems to have too much energy especially compered to Simon who is still sporting his hoodie and mask combo. His eyes lock onto you as he walks through the lobby, his glare sending shivers down your spine. In a strange way, you’re not scared of him, more intrigued. He walks through the counter to the main floor without saying anything. 

“Sorry, he’s a rude bastard when he hasn’t had a coffee yet.” Johnny says.

“It’s okay,” you shake your head. You look through the window into the main floor watching Gaz open the large garage doors out to the street. 

“Hey, if we’re both around at 12 want to get lunch together? I know this great sandwich place down the road my treat!” Johnny says. You nod, he really has a way of putting you at ease with his palpable bubbly energy. 

“Right, I’ll see ya then lass,” he says and he heads through. 

The morning goes quick or maybe it’s because everything feels so new and foreign that it takes you a lot of concentration to make sure you’re doing it right. Before you even try to do anything you’re already calling John in his office about the names, instead of it being Johnny, Simon and Kyle, it’s Gaz, Soap and Ghost. Gaz you remember but the other two it’s a 50/50. John laughs and tells you Soap is Johnny and Ghost is Simon.

Each time you give them a job they stick their heads round the door to pick up the invoice, you try to make it a habit of printing it out as soon as you assign the job, so it’s ready when they come in. You purposely give Simon a job over lunch so Johnny is free, it’s a little cheeky for your first day but you wouldn’t mind spending more time with Johnny. 

When lunch comes around Johnny shows you how to set the phone to go to Price’s office and you both leave. The shop is right round the corner but by this time of the day it’s packed with people on their lunch break, you order your sandwiches to go and head back to work to eat them there. You’re both sat upstairs in on the sofa’s, it is nice up here and you can see down to the floor below you gives you something to watch while you eat. 

“How’s your first day been so far then?” Johnny asks.

“Fine, it’s just getting used to the system that might take a while.” You confess.

“Yeah, you’re doing great though, my jobs have been smooth and easy all day.” He says. You nod. 

“So how did you all meet?” You ask.

“Now that’s a story!” He says sitting up in his chair. 

“We were all military together, SAS.” He says. That explains the company name Special Delivery Service, you chuckle it’s cute, funny now you get it.

“Why’d you quit?” You ask. 

“Our time was up we chose not to re-enlist, it was Simon’s idea to start a delivery company, something easy we could do in retirement.” He says smiling at your interest. 

“Did you ever kill anyone?” You ask, but then immediately regret it, you don’t know if that’s an appropriate question to ask. Johnny just laughs.

“Someone's got to deal with the bad guys.” He says winking. 

“Don’t mean they didn’t fight back. Got a nice fucked up knee to show for it.” Johnny says slapping his left leg. That explains the limp he always has when hes walking. 

“Has John always been your boss?” You ask moving it away from killing people and being shot.

“Price, yeah he was our captain, it just felt right letting him continue to tell us what to do.” Johnny explains, chuckling. You nod listening to him talk about their life in the military, he’s careful not to go too into specifics, but enough for you to understand it seemed like it was quite a dangerous job. Johnny mentioned something about bombs at one point, that’s scary. 

“I bet you travelled a lot though?” You ask finishing your sandwich. 

“Oh yeah! That was one of the perks I guess, been all over the place, met some great people.” Johnny says naming a bunch of countries off. You watch as Simon comes back reversing the van into the bay. He jumps out and heads straight into the store room. That reminded you you needed to ask for the code. Johnny gets up checking his watch and throwing his trash in the bin. 

“Got a delivery to make, I’ll see you later.” He says heading to the stairs. You nod smiling. When you’re done you knock on John’s door before you head downstairs. 

“Come in!” He calls. You go in, for some reason you get this feeling like you’re back at school walking into a teachers office about to ask them for the key to the storage room to get more paper. 

“Hey, how’s it going?” he asks smiling, it almost immediately puts you at ease. 

“Good, I was just wondering, the store room, Johnny showed me yesterday but he didn’t give me the code.” You explain. Price nods his head. 

“You don’t need the code, it’s for the drivers only, it’s where we keep, sensitive equipment.” He explains. You nod feeling heat rush to your cheeks, maybe you should have asked Johnny instead saved yourself the embarrassment of this conversation. 

“Got it, thank you.” You nod leaving the room and closing the door behind you. What kind of sensitive equipment? You hadn’t seen anyone moving anything in or out of there, and you’re pretty sure you saw Simon go in empty handed just now. You’re just more curious then ever. You look down the steps at Simon making his way up with a mug of tea in his hand. You wait until he has reached the top of the stairs before heading down. You smile at him, you can’t tell if he’s smiling back with the mask but you’re assuming he’s not. You make your way back down as he walks into John’s office without knocking. 

The rest of the day seems to go by slower, your mind obsessing over the store room for some reason. It’s like an itch you need to scratch, you find yourself looking over to check it now and again. You get a few of those ‘special request’s’ John warned you about, you try to assign them but it doesn’t work. Clearly the system does not like it so you send them off to John. It’s almost like they’re encrypted, maybe you could figure out how to fix it and stop the system from freezing up every time it happens, a task for next week you think.

Jobs stop coming through around 3 and you spend the last few hours of your shift catching up on the other part of your admin job, then you find yourself cleaning the coffee machine. Johnny and Gaz leave early, apparently this is normal for Friday, you wish them a good weekend as they leave going out the vehicle entrance closing the garage doors behind them. You head to use the bathroom next, as you’re washing your hands you hear the door of the store room beep open and the sound of feet running in and out. You hear it open but you don’t hear it close.

You hold your breath, could it be? It’s open. You’re excited for some reason. You quickly slip out cracking the door. Sure enough the door didn’t fully close it’s stuck on the latch. Your curiosity gets the better of you, you can’t help it. You look round quickly, you don’t see anyone, you don’t hear anyone. You push the door open, it’s dark you can’t see inside. You take a step in and an automatic light flicks on. You gasp as you look around the room. It’s way bigger then you expected, so big there is enough room for a table in the middle. Each part of the wall is covered in weapons, knifes, somethings you don’t even know what they would be but they look scary.

The hairs are standing up on the back of your neck, it’s almost like your fight or flight has kicked in as your eyes widen. There are crates everywhere some open with what look like boxes of ammo. You let out a breath feeling fear rise in you, maybe it was airsoft? You move to look in one of the crates near the entrance. Nope those are real bullets. You shouldn’t have seen this you feel panic rising. This is bad and very illegal. You start to back out the room, slowly you’re trying to be as quiet as possible. Your body hits something, not something someone. You hear a sigh. 

“And what do you think you’re doing?” It’s Simon. You slowly turn his head is tilted to the side his brow creased as his gaze burns into you. Fuck.

Next

Banners by Firefly Graphics

[nyc-looks]

Allie

“My travels inspire my style – recently I’ve been to India and Guatemala, so I’m into bold colors, specialty dyed or woven textiles, bangles, long flowy things, cowboy boots. I’m always drawn to Italian fashion, and love buying things made in Italy. My sweater is Schostal Originals, top from CDMX street market, vest from a Paris pound store, skirt and shoes from Savers, bag Ratio, necklace Long May Love Rule, and glasses Lexxola.“

May 11, 2024 ∙ Bed-Stuy

[mistydeyes]

the deadly kiss of a woman

┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊

summary: When the 141 isn't planting bombs and executing assaults, they're usually tailing a target or performing their own reconnaissance. What happens when you enter the picture and are sent to do your own recon on them?

pairing: Task Force 141 x undercover!fem!Reader

warnings: depiction of violence/weapons and drugs, swearing, wound depiction, reader being a bad bad girl (except in gaz's case lmao)

a/n: bro i love me a good spy storyline

┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊

price - assassin

Finding Captain Price wasn't an easy feat. You were contracted by the traitorous General Shepherd and he was making sure you worked for your payment. You followed Price mission to mission but he was always one step ahead of you or surrounded by his teammates. You had exhausted all of your international passports and disguises until an opportunity presented itself. From a covertly placed comm, you heard that Price was planning on a retreat to his cabin while on leave. You sped your black vehicle away and raced to the airport. You smiled as you booked the next flight to Fort Augustus.

When you arrived, you booked an Airbnb under an assumed name and just happen to be sitting on the porch when your "neighbor" arrived. "Good morning," you waved as you put on your best fake American accent. He waved back as he casually sipped his morning brew. "Far from home are we?" he asked as he walked closer to the edge of his porch to talk to you. "Guess you Brits can spot an American from miles away," you joked, "The name's Virginia, I thought it was time to take a break from trips to Maine and try going abroad instead." "I'm John and, well, you picked a great place," he smiled at you and you returned the friendly gesture. "Maybe we could chat about some trails over dinner?" you asked and he looked at you surprised. "I just bought too many ribeyes for one person to enjoy," you said sheepishly and he nodded in response. "How about you bring them over and I can grill some up for dinner?" he offered and you agreed on a time for that evening. As you entered your cabin, you knew you would walking away with millions at the end of the night.

When evening finally arrived, you changed into jeans and a flannel shirt. The outfit functioned in multiple ways as the bulkiness of the flannel allowed you to hide your two weapons for the night: monkshood powder to sedate Price and a scopolamine patch to kill him with a seizure quickly. You smiled as you remembered their street names, wolfsbane and Devil's Breath. You grabbed the thawed pieces of meat and adjusted your brunette wig before heading over to his home. When you knocked on the door, he greeted you warmly and invited you inside. The house was warm and he quickly took the ribeyes out of your hand to prep on the grill. "Your place is amazing," you said as you took off your boots. "A slice of paradise," he said as he offered you some scotch. "I also made a tayberry pie for dessert, heard it's a Northeast specialty," he said before walking to the kitchen, "you're lucky they had some at the market." "Sounds great, let me know if there's anything I can do to help," you called out. You walked around the room, checking for any bugs or weapons that he could use to his advantage. Shepherd had informed you that Price was not an old man to underestimate and you took the threat seriously.

"Here you go," he said behind you and you turned with a smile as he held out two glasses. You reached out to grab one but "accidentally" tripped and caused the glasses onto his chest. "I am so sorry!" you said, "I'll pour us another if you want to change." He nodded in response and reassured you that it was alright. As he left to change his shirt, you poured two new glasses and covertly mixed the powder in. He returned quickly and you went to go present him his glass. "I'll drink in a minute, have to check and make sure those cuts haven't burned yet, love," he said before brushing past you. You patiently waited as you knew your opportunity would come soon.

After a few moments, Price returned with two perfectly charred steaks. "Mind just getting some plates for us?" he asked and directed you over to the cabinet. You put your drink down on the table and retrieved the items. Finally, you sat across from Price and sipped your drinks over the delicious meal. You made polite conversation about the variety of trails and enjoyed his cooking.

As the night continued, you felt faint but blamed it on the strong liquor. However, as your eyes began to close and your ears rang, Price quickly got up and moved you to the couch. "When you wake up you're going to explain everything," he cruelly whispered as you fell out of consciousness. "A good assassin would know that tayberries are only from California but I guess you didn't do your research," was the last thing you heard before you passed out on the leather couch.

soap - weapons dealer

Becoming friends with Johnny wasn't part of the plan. You just happened to hit it off at a bar in Scotland when you were executing a deal. You decided to keep him around despite the danger of him exposing you. You lived by the saying "Keep your friends close but your enemies closer” and while you were fond of the Scotsman, you weren’t blind to the fact he was a Sergeant who could implicate your entire business. You kept up a front as an influencer who got paid to travel to lavish destinations and enjoyed the finer things in life. He didn’t question you when you told him you were off to Amsterdam. “Enjoy the sights, lass,” he cheered to you and you made plans to hang out whenever you both returned. Little did you both know, you would be seeing each other much sooner than you expected.

As you sat in a dimly cocktail bar, you sipped delicately on a thousand-dollar rum. Your blackened lipstick stained the edge of the glass as you ordered another. You checked your watch and saw that your client was running behind. You didn’t interfere or ask what they needed the firearms for, you could’ve cared less. But this client was clearly a cartel member based on their Western Hemisphere accent and their offerings for some premium cocaine. “He’s late,” you said, annoyed, to your bodyguard, “I’m giving him five more minutes until the deal is off.” Suddenly, the doors of the cocktail bar opened and you could see three figures illuminated by the street light enter. “Here he finally is,” you exasperatingly said as you threw your hands up in relief. But you would soon swallow your words as a familiar face emerged into the red light.

Your bodyguard moved for his gun as this was not the client you were expecting. “Hold it right there and don’t move, sweetheart,” one of the men commanded as they approached. “Who are you?” you asked coldly as their presumed Captain took the head seat. “People who are very interested as to why you’re transporting guns for the cartel,” he said and lit up a cigar, using your rum glass as an ashtray. “And what makes you think I sell anything of that nature?” you countered as you caught Johnny’s eyes and he stared intently. “Well first because lying to a Sergeant is a federal offense,” Johnny answered with venom in his tone. “Looks like you’ve already been acquainted,” the other man answered and he looked to be the youngest out of the group. “Plus we tracked your client and he brought you to us,” the Captain said as he took another long draw out of his cigar. Every time he dumped ashes you gripped the tablecloth harder.

"What if I don't cooperate?" you asked as you tried to regain power in this situation. "Oh Michelle," Johnny said as he approached you and placed a dominating hand on the table, "or should I say Genevieve Aguillard." You swallowed harshly as he raised his other hand to brush a loose strand of hair. "I think you'll find a way to tell us, Bonnie," he complimented as you shuttered at his tone. Your smile faltered as you turned your attention back to the Captain. "Mactavish, take the Red Widow to another room, and don't come back until we have what we need," he said as you felt Johnny grip your arm and lead you for some light interrogation.

gaz - secret agent

Following General Shepherd's betrayal, the CIA placed you undercover to be their eyes and ears inside the 141. You were experienced with these types of operations and readily accepted the position. Intercepting the team was easy as Laswell had made sure to secure you a position as the task force's newest foreign operations specialist and linguist. The CIA helped to fabricate a dossier that developed your history as one of the youngest members to pass SAS selection and one that quickly climbed the military ladder. Now in, you impressed the men with your mastery of foreign military weapons and vehicles along with your deadly hand-to-hand combat.

After a few months of chasing Makarov, you were trusted to go on missions without supervision or instruction from the entire team. You primarily would go with Price and Gaz so your budding friendship with Gaz was no surprise. You were given the alias of Evelyn Hanssen, a name that combined a fictional special agent and a real one. Gaz affectionately called you Eve and would always be the first one to volunteer to go on patrol with you. One night you got in a pissing contest as you fabricated a lie regarding your times during the Special Air Service selection. "And I thought I had the best times, Eve," Kyle joked as you finished up another spring training. "You wish, Garrick," you replied before heading off to the showers.

However, your position would soon become compromised following a near-death experience with Gaz. You, Price, and Gaz were on the frozen cliffs of Kazakhstan to retrieve stolen American intel. While Price provided overwatch, you and Gaz were tasked with infiltrating the base and securing the American Attack Characterization System. That was the plan but after you had become captured following the data transfer, you had to shoot your way out and steal a Russian aircraft. You were lucky to be alive on the ride home but a bullet wound to your shoulder and Gaz's broken arm landed you in an office with Laswell, Price, and the CIA Director.

"What the fuck were you thinking Agent L/N?" Laswell yelled at you as you sat with Gaz in the large meeting room. "I did my job, Ma'am," you said through gritted teeth. Her tone was harsh, like a mother yelling at her child. It had been a grueling 2 hours of going over everything that had gone wrong during the mission. Gaz had said his peace and now it was your turn on the chopping block. "You blew up a secret Russian military base, where was that in the brief?" the Director added. He then directed his anger to Price, "I thought you said your men could handle this, John." Price's eyes narrowed at you before he responded. Following the fiasco, the team had been briefed on your "secret assignment" and it was clear that hostilities were present in your role with the team. "My men could have handled it but she's not one of mine, General," he said venomously and the tension between him and his American counterparts was evident. "You're done Agent, I expect you on the first flight home to Langley tomorrow," the Director said and dismissed you and Gaz.

As you exited, you tried to grab Gaz's shoulder as he walked away. He looked at you with a new form of hatred in his eyes. "Don't touch me," he said coldly as your grip on his shoulder loosened. "You come in here to babysit us and you can't even do your job correctly," he continued as you looked at him, trying to find something to say. "I'm sick of you messing up our operations, you're a flight risk that needs to run home to the States," he ended and walked away, leaving you to pack your bags and head home.

ghost - spy

Ghost knew he was being followed. As a grey man himself, he knew what to look out for when tailing a target. There were two options to execute surveillance, the first way is to make sure your targets never notice you and the second way is to make sure they only notice you. The young woman who had been mingling through the busy London streets was definitely following the former. Simon noticed you three blocks away when you emerged from a bookstore and had been casually keeping pace with him since.

He didn't know what she wanted but decided to execute his own countermeasures. He pulled off into a small trinkets shop and pretended to look amongst the aisles of vintage teapots. When he heard the signature click of the front door, he knew he had you cornered. You rounded the aisles and eventually pretended to pick up a plate and inspect its engravings. "You've been following me," Ghost said as he too was looking at a teapot. You swallowed and turned to face your target. "So tell me when are you going to ask for my number?" he said and you could see the corners of his eyes rise in a smile. You were suspicious as spies were often taught not to rely on coincidences but you played along. "Is it that obvious?" you flirted, "I'm sorry for being such a weirdo, I have seen you around town and needless to say, you've gotten my attention."

You moved closer to him and seductively bit down on your lip, staining your rouge lipstick. Ghost moved his hand to your face and wiped the stain from your lower lip. "What's your name, doll?" he asked as he stared at you intently. "Belle," you replied with your undercover name prepared, "what's yours handsome?" "Simon" he breathily replied and you knew you had the right person. As Ghost exited the shop with your phone number in hand, he knew he would keep you around until he found out who you were sent by. He was ready to dance this dangerous tango with you.

After weeks of sleeping and getting closer to Simon, you were prepared to give updates to your handler. It was easy to entice him into midnight meetings in darkened hotel rooms. You could have easily taken him out but your client had other plans for him. You exited your faux flat in a grey suit and jacket and made your way to the rendezvous point. Your heels clicked on the street as you perfectly blended in with office workers heading home or on errands after the long work day and entered a cocktail bar. "Just a table for two, in the back please," you asked the young hostess. "My date and I would like our privacy," you winked and they led you to a cocktail table at the back of the restaurant. You sat in the corner, facing the door, as you pulled out a compact to run your fingers through your blonde wig and adjust your brown lipstick. Your handler was to meet you in five minutes but it never hurt to be early.

As you examined yourself in the mirror, someone exited the bathroom and sat across from you. You closed it and tried to suppress your surprise when you saw Simon sitting in front of you. "Apologies sir, I think you have the wrong table," you lied as you donned a convincing French accent. "No I think I'm at the right one, Belle," he said as you knew he had set you up. You heard the click of a gun underneath the table and felt the cold metal brush against your knees and position your stomach. "But we both know, Belle isn't your real name," he said as he stared at you intently with those brown eyes that had looked down at you ever since you met. "Have to say Belle is a nice alias, the same one a Civil War spy had," he said and let out a sickly sweet laugh. As you shakily sipped your water, you prepared to either be shot or hear his demands. "Now you're going to tell me who sent you or you'll have some lead to accessorize with," he whispered before signaling the waiter for two glasses of Bourbon. This was going to be one hell of a dinner date.

[thebearer]

no but i love your writing! ever since i watched s1 and 2 last weekend because of a youtube ad, i peaked in the carmy tag and was a surprised to see the amount of stories carmy had! would love a scenario where he’s married to a sassy, take no shit type of reader sim to natalie. his wife legit could work with him for all i care. but for whatever reason he does something w/o checking in— he prolly just forgot. she finds out and confronts him hella pissed (could be at family or during restaurant prep idc) and she says “oh, if carmen said it was cool.” not even carmy the full government name bro 😭. p much how natalie articulated it 🤣. can’t remember the ep but in early season 1 when marcus blew the fuse you can also include slick commentary from richie (and fak) if you’d like! tysm in advance 🥰. also if you don’t me me asking, do you have name/alias on this blog? what we can call you? enjoy your week

- 🥣

yes yes yes ahhhhh! he definitely needs someone who keeps him in line but walks that fine line where he can also keep them in line (bc dom!carmy is living in my heart rent free forever lol). also you can call me e if you'd like :) thank you for your sweet words! i hope you have a good week, and hope you enjoy this!

"What's this?" You ask Sydney, looking at the new box being unloaded from the truck- big and bulky in a crate, far too large to be a produce shipment.

"Uh, I think it's the new glassware for the bar." Sydney looked at her clipboard, back at you carefully.

"Glassware? What new glassware. We haven't picked that out yet." You frowned, looking at the crate carefully.

"Oh, well, it was in Carmen's notes for the day, so... I think that's the only shipment we have. Unless the hostess stand came early, which would be amazing, but you-" Sydney stopped her ramblings, seeing your soured expression. "You know what? Never mind, uh, ignore me. I'm just...Carmen's with Sugar and Richie in the back if you want to ask him."

"Thanks, Syd." You muttered, ripping the bell open with a shrill before bounding towards the back. You could hear them before you saw them, a familiar chorus of chatter and rising voices.

"Hey, so what's the delivery out front?" You ask, not bothering to wait for them to acknowledge you. If you did, you'd never talk, they all talked over each other.

"The new glasses for the bars." Sugar turned, smiling softly at you. "How are you doing?"

"Good." You muttered, eyes cutting to Carmen. "We haven't ordered new glasses yet."

"Uh, well, I thought you liked the ones from last week, angel." Carmen's eyes were bulged, clearly flustered.

"I said I liked them for basics, but I needed you to confirm a drink menu." You glared at him, arms crossing over his chest.

"You can't put the drinks in that?" Carmen asked, hand flying out towards the hall.

"Not if you want the specialty, no." You huffed. "Carmen, I told you to wait just a few days and we could get them at the wholesale market. The textured ones for the signature at least."

"Uh-oh," Richie muttered, snickering to Fak.

"Can you not use the glasses I got?" Carmen sighed.

"I can, but did you get enough? And did we decide if the signature is going in a whiskey glass or a cylinder one? Did you order double of those?" You lifted a brow, taking a step towards him. Richie and Nat watched, heads turning from you and Carmen like a tennis match.

Carmen paused, running a hand down his face. "N-No, but-"

"-So what are you going to do when we open and you run out of drinks, huh? When everyone orders the signature and it comes in different glasses? You think those travel groupie influencers won't notice? Won't post about it and make it a big fucking deal?" You countered.

"Then we'll figure it out!" Carmen huffed. "Look I gave the order to Richie, and-"

"-Hey, no fuckin' way cousin. You gave me your order." Richie held his hand up. "Sweetheart, Carmy said it was good so I just placed the order."

"Well, if Carmen said it was good, then it must be, right? He's the fucking boss." You snarl, glaring at Carmen furiously. "Seems like you've got it under control, Carm, so I'll leave it to you." You turn on your heel, furiously stomping away.

Richie and Fak wait until they hear the slam of the office door, to release their cackles. "Oooh! Cousin, you are in the fuckin' dog house now." Richie laughed, Fak's chorus of barks emphasizing his statement.

"Shut up, ok? Just shut the fuck up." Carmen growled, running a hand through his hair.

"Carmy, why wouldn't you ask her before you ordered? She's your mixologist." Nat sighed, shoulders heavy with disappointment.

"Also your girlfriend." Sydney added, poking her head in. "I told you to wait. Just saying."

"Thank you, alright, thank you all for your fuckin' helpful words." Carmen snapped. "Just... Nat, make sure they get all that shit set up right, ok? Make sure the dishwasher fucking works before we're open, please."

The office door was shut, and Carmen hesitated, reaching for the knob anxiously. He wasn't sure if he should knock- I mean, fuck, this is his office but... you were already so mad at him. Knuckles rapping on the door, he didn't wait for the invite in- knowing he'd never get one.

Carmen found you, sniffling in a furious pout in the corner, body angled away from the door. "Baby-" Carmen started with a sigh, shoulders falling gently at your upset state.

"-Don't." You snap, wiping your eyes. "Don't even start with me, Carmen." The way you say his full name sounds so bitter, too formal and full of malice to be from you.

"I-I'm sorry. I thought we agreed on it, and-and Richie was pressuring me and... And you're right. I shouldn't have made that decision without you, and I'm sorry." Carmen said slowly, waiting for your gaze to meet his, angry, wet, waterline.

"Yeah, you shouldn't have." You agreed bitterly, wiping your eyes. "I get this is your restaurant, Carmen, but don't ask for my help if you're just gonna do what you want anyways. That's-That's not nice."

"I know." Carmen nodded slowly, approaching you with the caution he would a wild animal. "I want your help. I do, and-and I like your idea that the house drink goes in the special glass. Makes it stand out."

You lifted your gaze up to his. "Yeah?" You asked, he nodded, sitting next to you. "Did you blow your budget?"

"No," Carmen shook his head, not a total lie. Fak had been able pull some strings with the new stoves, turns out he did have a guy. It left a little over five thousand left over.

"We could go to that place, if you want to. Go look and see if they have the glasses. Get a rough estimate of about how many we'd need." Carmen offered, his hand cupping your thigh gently, thumb rubbing over your leg in soothing circles.

"As long as Sydney or Nat does the numbers and not you." You snorted lightly, rolling your eyes at him.

He laughed, nodding in agreement. "Yeah, I'll get Sugar to run 'em, alright? Then we can go. Call it an early night."

You beamed at the idea, letting him slide in next to you, melting into your side. "That sounds good." You hummed, letting your head fall on his shoulder.

"I-I'm real sorry I didn't as you ." Carmen muttered. "That was shitty."

"Yeah." You sighed in agreement. "I just... I want to be included in things." You asked, looking up at him sweetly. "Not everything, but-but at least the things that apply to my area."

"I know." Carmen nodded, his hand catching your cheek softly. "I'll let you handle it next time, alright? I trust your opinion."

"You don't have to do that-"

"-No, you're right, I don't. But-But I want to." Carmen nodded. "I know you're lookin' out for the best in this place just like I am."

[threepandas]

Bird4Bird Part 3: Yandere Hawks

Did you know? That Fukuoka has the highest concentration of winged Quirks in Japan? Most of them in or around Kyushu. It's a remarkably recent thing too. Used to be farther north, but that slowly died off when the Hero Rising Wing died in action.

Wanna know WHY?

It's because of the fuckin Gyms.

The markets. The specialty doctors offices. The clothing lines that cater to people who have LIMBS sticking out if their backs. All of those? Yeah, they picked up and looked for the next Hero to slap a brand deal on. Because GOD FORBID they serve the community that already existed and needed them.

So folks had to move. Sell their houses.

It was that or take the train for hours each day, after all.

Because? Again. No license? Who CARES if your health suffers! Fucking WALK. Dangerous muscle atrophy and spinal problems? Should have thought about being a HERO! Bleed for the state!

You're not bitter.

You're just routinely pissed enough to spit shards of GLASS.

Doesn't help that YOUR quirk? Oh, YOUR Quirk is one of the BIG ones. One of those "why yes, I CAN bench press a small vehicle, why do you ask?" Sorta quirks. The upkeep is a NIGHTMARE. You live in a god damned SHOEBOX.

You HAVE too! Because FUCKING INSURANCE doesn't cover "frivolous" "luxury" expenses like your Hero-grade gym membership. Which you only NEED because you'd BREAK the normal machines at a standard Avian Quirk Specialty Gym. But good luck trying to agree with the BIGOTS at-!!!

.....breathe. Just.... just breath. In, then out, in, then out.

Not Worth it.

This is workout time. De-stress. Getting to stretch your wings. Work up a swea-OH MOTHER FUCKER!!

Hawks bats his eyelashs, obnoxiously in your opinion, at you and twiddle his fingers in a cheeky lil shit wave. No. NO. This is you day OFF from community service. You were supposed to be FREE of him! How is he HERE?!

You look him dead in the eyes and project MURDER.

His obnoxious grin gets bigger. It's like he WANTS you to fight him! Is... is this bullying? Are you being BULLIED? You're on fuckin PAROLE. The flesh may be so, SO willing to slam him face first through a wall... but the spirit DOESNT WANT TO GO TO JAIL. His ass ain't worth it!

Leave you crimson ass, crow demon! FUCK OFF!

He pouts exaggeratedly at you. Dramatic and fake as shit. "Aaaw, aren't we FRIENDS? Don't you want to hang ooooout~?" NO! I would sell you back to whatever hell dimension you crawled from, for a toothpick I DONT EVEN WANT!

He looks delighted.

Stop that!

You try and ignore him. Finish your work out. But he is so, SO clingy and whiny and LOUD. He's doing on purpose. You know he is. HE knows, you know, he is. You can see it in his eyes. It's the fucking malicious little sparkle.

Is he getting OFF on this? What, does he just LIKE to harrass people? Pick at them?

If he keeps fucking around, he's GONNA find out.

You storm away the second your done. Try to lose him at the changing rooms. Fail. Now he's following you... eating greasy fried chicken... OBNOXIOUSLY. Does he HAVE to FLY while he does that?! The exaggerated noises are COMPLETELY UNNECESSARY!

You spin to rip him a new one, take one look at his smug, victorious expression... and? Actually? Enjoy your fucking chicken. Mama didn't raise a lil bitch. She had a Cutesy Pair Of Angel Wings™ her entire life. Was fetishized to FUCK and back. Learned the fine art of rage and taking no prisoners.

She? She raised a spiteful wrath child with a strong sense of justice.

Fuck yoooooooou.

You hope he CHOKES on that chicken. You begin to turn, but stop. He WAS looking annoyed that his plan didn't work. Why did he just start smirking? He looks entirely too smug and pleased. Not looking AT you. Over your head? Behind-?

"Omg, IS THAT HAWKS~♡?!"

Oh, fuck. You feel the blood drain from you face. His eyes flick down to yours. His PR, fake ass, smile has never been toothier. D...Don't do it. Don't you DARE.

He strikes a photo ready pose. Why YES HE IS~!

You desperately try to get out of the way. You've SEEN the carnage. The poor souls caught in the crossfire. High pitched squeals and thundering feet race closer from behind you. A red feather has by the front of the jacket. You stare down in betrayal. Back up in horror.

You're supposed to be a HERO!

The Fan's cometh. And with a howling curse, you get consumed by the crowd. Hawks laughs, bright and charming above the crowd. His feathers never leaving your body as you get thrown around. Shouldn't have ignored him~

But man, the face you made was pretty cute, too.

Following you was a great idea! He should do it more often~♡

[herkonular]

SEVENHİLLSSHOPPİNG - MEGA+

Turkish cuisine is famous for its rich flavors and unique combination of spices and ingredients. Turkish cuisine has been influenced by many cultures such as the Ottoman, Middle Eastern and Mediterranean, resulting in a wide variety of dishes and flavors. One of the most popular aspects of Turkish cuisine is its desserts, known for their sweetness and unique texture. Two of the most famous Turkish desserts are baklava and Turkish delight. Baklava is a pastry made from layers of phyllo filled with chopped hazelnuts and honey syrup; Turkish delight, on the other hand, is a sweet, chewy confection made with starch and sugar, often flavored with rose water or other natural extracts. These traditional sweets are widely available in Turkish markets and specialty stores such as Seven Hills Shopping, which offers a wide range of Turkish baklava and other desserts. Turkish cuisine is known for its desserts as well as popular beverages such as herbal teas and Turkish coffee. Herbal tea is made from a variety of natural herbs and flowers such as sage, chamomile and rosehip. This tea is often consumed for its health benefits, including its ability to calm digestion, boost the immune system, and promote relaxation. Turkish coffee is a strong, rich coffee made using a special method of boiling coffee grounds in water and serving it without filtering. Turkish coffee is often served with a small glass of water and Turkish delight, making it a popular and enjoyable social experience. If you want to try traditional Turkish desserts and drinks, there are many options available online. Sultan Bazaar and Grand Bazaar Istanbul are two popular online retailers specializing in Turkish products such as baklava, Turkish delight, herbal tea, and Turkish coffee. These retailers offer a wide range of high-quality products, including mixed baklava flavors, saffron and specialty Turkish products. Hafız Mustafa 1864 Istanbul is another popular brand that offers a wide variety of traditional Turkish desserts, including baklava, Turkish delight and chocolate. Whether you want to pamper yourself with a sweet treat or enjoy a cup of Turkish coffee or herbal tea, there are many options to experience the unique flavors and traditions of Turkish cuisine. You can access the product you want through our website.

[hometoursandotherstuff]

Okay, so this looks like another case of a family that bought a big old honkin' school building, with the intention of converting it, themselves. This school, built in 1920 in Holdredge, Nebraska, has a lot of work, effort, and money poured into it, but I guess the fun wore off and the owners put the 5bd, 2ba home on the market for $525K. Let's see what they did.

This hallway with its arched ceiling makes a nice entrance.

The living room is a plain former classroom, I would imagine, and it's hard to find good ready-made curtains for such large windows.

Very long, large kitchen. Wonder if it was the original cafeteria kitchen.

Such huge spaces to fill in these old school buildings. But, this looks nice. Unconventional, but nice.

Beautiful mosaic shower and hi-end shower tower. Plus, a glass sink. Looks nice from this angle w/this lighting.

But, what happened here? Doesn't even look like the same room. The bit of exposed brick wall looks out of place in a brand new bath with specialty mosaic work.

This seems odd that there're bedrooms in the basement. It's a nice room, but surely there are plenty classrooms upstairs for that.

It doesn't look like the nursery even has a window. But, it's a cute room.

Here's a central hall between the bedrooms. I wonder where that ladder leads.

Well, this is one of the classrooms, or two. I'm confused. This is listed as a single family home, but it looks like there's a family living in here. Or, it could actually be someone's room. It looks mostly like a rummage sale.

This is cute, and it's exactly the size of the library the school put together in my old school building.

Wow, look at all the stairs.

Nice stash of vintage oak doors, plus other interesting ones.

I wonder if this is the hall outside the gym. Or maybe offices.

Some storage. Well, they've got a whole mountain of empty boxes, probably from the first move. They can just fill 'em up again, now.

This is beautiful, looks like they had some landscaping done.

The patio in the back of the building.

[truthwatcher-vez]

ask game: 9 with rlainarin? ♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️

For ash-sokia, for the write a kiss ask game #9: a kiss in public. 

Author's Note: This fic started out light-hearted and then took a more serious turn during the writing process.  Many, many thanks to cosmere-play, rysn and Priscellie for beta-reading!

Content warnings for classism, speciesism, prejudice

Renarin fidgeted nervously as he and Rlain neared their destination for the evening, a classy new winehouse that had just opened up in an upscale part of the Breakaway market.  It was similar to the establishment on the Shattered Plains where Adolin and Shallan had first gone out together.  When Renarin had heard about the winehouse, it had seemed like a good choice for their first public date.  …Well, a first date somewhere outside of the usual haunts frequented by the members of Bridge Four.  Renarin had heard that this winehouse was supposed to have a relaxing atmosphere and a truly impressive list of wines.

Rlain had initially seemed hesitant about the idea, but ultimately he had given in to Renarin’s enthusiasm, and had agreed they should give it a try.

Renarin was so caught up in his own nerves that he almost didn’t notice the odd look that the master-servant at the door gave him as she double-checked his reservation.  As they were being shown to a table, Renarin thought he could feel her staring at his back.  There were whispers at the tables surrounding them, and someone sniggered.  Renarin flushed and tried to ignore it.  He’d grown too comfortable in Adolin’s shadow when he was among other Alethi lighteyes, forgetting how much Adolin’s presence protected him from being targeted as the ‘strange Kholin’.

Renarin took his time reviewing the wine lists, which were written out in Alethi glyphs as well as women’s script.  Rlain professed that he found the number of choices overwhelming, and asked Renarin for advice.  Renarin gladly obliged.  As he began sharing his expertise regarding all of the different wines, something in him began to relax.  Rlain listened attentively, offering questions here or there, and eventually they settled on some specialty wines from northern Azir.  A glass of sapphire for Renarin and a red for Rlain.

The wine really was excellent, and the alcohol took the edge from Renarin’s nervousness.  As the two of them continued to make comfortable small talk, Rlain raised a hand in a tentative gesture to request a refill of his water goblet.  Renarin noticed immediately when the signal was overlooked by the winehouse staff.  He followed up by flagging a servant himself, and the man quickly came over with a pitcher and refilled their glasses.  A little while later, the same thing happened again.  Then Renarin ordered them another round of wine--orange this time in accordance with the Codes.  Another master-servant brought Renarin’s wine over quickly.  Rlain’s… didn’t arrive.

Oh.  What was happening finally began to sink in.  The looks and the whispers hadn’t been about him.  Or they hadn’t entirely been about him.  Rlain had known, or had suspected this would happen.  He’d expressed hesitancy when they’d first discussed the winehouse--pointing out that darkeyes typically wouldn’t be allowed into such a place, and singers had the darkest eyes of all.  Renarin had brushed off the concern at the time, responding that Rlain was a Knight Radiant now, and Radiants belonged to a class all their own.

Apparently, not everyone agreed with that sentiment.

He was suddenly deeply mortified, because he hadn’t really spared a second thought about the situation from Rlain’s perspective.  Renarin had wanted to go out so that they could have a good time together, but he had caused Rlain pain without meaning to. 

“I’m sorry,” Renarin said abruptly, with genuine remorse.  “I didn’t mean for our date to turn out like this.”  He reached across the table and took both of Rlain’s hands in his own.

Apparently, not everyone had heard the new gossip that Dalinar Kholin’s son and the listener from Bridge Four were openly courting, either.  A brightlady at a nearby table gasped and visibly recoiled from them, shockspren forming and breaking in the air around her head.  Behind her, a master-servant on the way to deliver wine to another patron forgot her training and nearly fumbled her tray as she stared.  And at yet another table, an elderly brightlord in Bethab colors muttered something harshly under his breath, his brows drawing downward as he attracted a bevy of aversionspren.

That was the very last straw.  Something in Renarin snapped, filling him with fury.  It didn’t often show itself, but he had his father’s temper.  Having to witness the insults to Rlain, and to the two of them together, was absolutely intolerable.

Renarin slid his chair out from the table with a long scraping sound that made conversations trail off and drew every eye in the winehouse.  Then he rose and walked around the side of the table to stand over Rlain, placing a hand firmly on the back of his chair.  He left a trail of bubbling angerspren in his wake.

The listener eyed him suspiciously.  “What are you…?”

Renarin drew in a deep breath as he scanned the entire room.  Then he attempted to channel his cousin Jasnah as he spoke out loudly, letting the tone of his voice drop to match the temperature of the snow caps outside the tower.

“The wine here is good, and the selection is excellent.  But the service is appalling, and the ambiance is even worse.  A brightlord’s guest is a brightlord’s guest, deserving to be treated with dignity and respect.  No one here is in any position to dare question whom a brightlord of the second dahn chooses to invite out for the evening.  Especially when that guest is a storming war hero and a Knight Radiant.”

Renarin looked down at Rlain’s upturned face, and raised his other hand to cup his cheek.  He spared a moment to hope that he wasn’t being too presumptuous, then he stooped down and firmly kissed him.

The kiss was chaste, determined, defiant.  He meant it to be a deliberate message to everyone else in the room.  You can’t ignore us and we’re not going anywhere.  This is something you’re just going to have to get used to.

Rlain went very still--not drawing away, but not exactly reciprocating either.  It caused a bit of Renarin’s anger to slide sideways.  You’re doing this wrong, he told himself critically.  He’d been attempting to help, but had just wound up messing things up, as always. 

Then the listener’s quiet humming changed subtly, shifting to something calmer.  Rlain leaned in and returned the kiss, and Renarin felt himself relax marginally.

When Renarin drew himself back up to his full height again, he quickly spotted the man whose clothing marked him as the head master-servant of the winehouse.  He glared and gestured pointedly down at Rlain’s wineglass, still sitting empty on the table.  The man got the message, and another master-servant quickly scurried over with the missing goblet of orange wine.    

Renarin returned to his seat, his anger slowly dissipating.  He felt the weight of Rlain’s gaze on him as the listener sipped at his wine, and it caused a flush to rise in his face.  “I’m sorry,” Renarin apologized again, as the ambient noise of the winehouse began to resume.  “I probably should have handled that differently.”

“Probably,” Rlain agreed mildly.  The cadence of the word was unfamiliar, and Renarin wished he understood enough about the rhythms to know which one Rlain was attuning right now.  “Still, you chose to speak up, to a room full of lighteyes.  I…no one’s ever really done that for me before.”  Slowly, he extended a hand across the table.  Renarin reached out and took it, twining their fingers together.

Renarin had acted out of anger in the moment, drawing everyone’s attention to them without even asking Rlain what he wanted.  That had been a mistake.  They were courting now, and situations like this would almost certainly happen again.  Moving forward, he resolved to do better.

As they continued to drink their wine in silence, Rlain spoke again.  “In my experience, people don’t change unless they’re given a reason.  I love Bridge Four, but they never would have let me carry a spear if I hadn’t made a point of asking first.”  He looked up and met Renarin’s eyes.  “So yes, I’m willing to make lighteyes uncomfortable if it causes some of them to confront their own perceptions of the singers.  If there’s a chance that it results in one tiny step towards singers being more accepted at Urithiru.”

Renarin nodded thoughtfully. Then he smiled at Rlain.  “Making lighteyes uncomfortable is kind of my specialty.”

Rlain smiled back at him.  “I appreciate that. Now why don't we take a look at the wine list again.  I’d be interested in trying that vintage from Tu Bayla….”

[snoopledrooplecheesedoodle]

Can I request something for yandere merman Kakyoin? :>

My idea is he not actually a merman but a sea witch with octopus body, just like Ursula in My little mermaid. He use his potion to turn into a merman to attract his darling because he know their darling will be afraid of his real form. He want to capture darling to be his mate forever.

Well that's my idea, feel free to be creative with the plot :D thank you so much

Never thought our boy who looks like Ariel was Ursula the whole time... now that I think about it Hierophant Green works perfectly with this. Kakyoin is a mimic octopus which allows him to change his skin and body to look like other things, which combined with magic you really don't stand a chance. This is from Kakyoin's perspective mostly. Reader is gender neutral but more feminine presenting because who doesn't love a pretty enby. I also do masc and andro too but why not mix it up. If you want a particular gender don't be afraid to ask!

Merrow=Nonbinary mermaid

Reel You In

You were perfect...

Bright (e/c) eyes, wide smile on your plush lips, shiny (h/c) hair

A true gem, a real pearl if you will

His treasure

His pretty little merrow

How did he mean you in all your divinity?

Kakyoin was taking stock of his ingredients, after all his magic still required special herbs and items of the deep. His green and white striped tentacles filtered through the vials and drawers. He was low on whale fat and Leviathan scales. Kakyoin sighed it would take him ages to find these rare ingredients. Leviathans aren't usually fond of getting rid of their scales. He'll have to scour the specialty market for these ingredients. The unfortunate thing is it only opens when the ocean is darkest. He gathered his cloak off the large mer skeleton it was hanging off of. He put on his cloak and swam into the darkness.

The market was full of sketchy characters per usual, nobody good came to the Night Market unless they were desperate. It was swarming with thieves, witches, and the usual assortment of outcasts and criminals' merfolk told stories of to make their fry behave. Of course, he was one of them so there was no room to complain. He was browsing the stalls when a heavy force knocked into him. His amethyst eyes filled with annoyance, someone was already trying to rob him, and he just got here. He snatched his satchel back and glared at the offender who apologized?

"I'm so sorry sir, I wasn't watching where I was swimming. Did you lose anything from your bag?" Intriguing. Looking at the figure in front on him he could tell they didn't belong. (h/l) (h/c) styled with a pretty white ribbon (if bald or hijab its tied around your neck). Wide (e/c) orbs full of innocence he'd not seen in a while (your innocent compared to him bro). You were very attractive in his eyes as it's not often to see someone be so decent in his line of work.

"Sir? Sir? Oh no did I hit you too hard?!" The merrow's worried voice broke him out of his thoughts. "Oh, no I'm fine no harm has been done. Mx. ..." You laughed which was a genuine laugh, not one full of malice, just pure joy. Kakyoin wishes he could capture that laugh and put it in a jar. "(Y/N) my name is (Y/N)." Oh, they were so trusting, the naive little thing. "Kakyoin, but you may call me Noriyaki." (Y/N) grinned at this and swished their shiny tail back and forth. "Okay Noriyaki it's so very nice to meet you! Oh no I need to go before the market closes! See you, Nori!" The cheerful merrow swam off leaving Kakyoin paralyzed in awe. Suddenly, finding those materials didn't seem so interesting.

Kakyoin hadn't slept well in a while, thoughts of a special little merrow kept him awake. Your beautiful face invaded his dreams, your laugh haunted his every waking moment, your coquettish smile taunted him so. Oh, you had no idea how much you drove him crazy! He had been neglecting his work to watch you from his seer glass. You were even more irresistible in your day-to-day life.

You were coming back from shopping eagerly talking to yourself about the new tops you bought when you bumped into a cecaelia. You were rather clumsy, weren't you? Now you would apologize profusely and offer this merfolk your aid. What shocked Kakyoin was when you froze at the sight of the person before you and swam away in a panic. How unusual of sweet little you. What could cause such a reaction? He hadn't seen you act so rashly even with the most intimidating fish folk but this ceacaelia made you swim away with fear he has never seen before. Does it mean?

No

NO.

You were afraid of cecaelia.

You were afraid of him.

Kakyoin's fantasy of finding you again and courting you was ruined, all because you were afraid of cecaelia. He was spiraling fast. He smashed bottles and flipped his cauldron over in a fit of rage. He never hated having tentacles in his life but now he wanted to rip them all off. His blue blood leaking from his hands reminding him of his physical imperfection. If only he was born a merman like you... then I idea struck him.

Maybe reaching you wasn't impossible.

Pain, throbbing pain was all Kakyoin felt. His tentacles felt like they were ripped clean off, but it was worth it for the emerald and silver fish tail he had now. Kakyoin was stumbling around like a guppy trying to get used to their fins for the first time. It was taking some practice, but he was getting used to it. Soon he'd be perfect. Perfect for you. Once he's reeled you in, he'd show the real him, but by then

You can't escape

Kakyoin was positively giddy with all the feelings of love he felt for you. All he needed to do was find his beloved but make it seem like a coincidence. After all, you were naive but a bit skittish. All the more reason to keep you safe from dangerous creatures of the ocean and take a delicate approach to get to you. After observing you for so long he knew where you liked to go and when. By now you would be gathering human trinkets at the abandoned ship you frequently explored. He couldn't care less about humans and their dirty little tools, but you loved them so and he loved you. He received a particularly shiny trinket from a recent customer (victim), a shining bejeweled brooch. Something irresistible for a little merrow such as yourself. Kakyoin could practically see the big sparkling eyes you would make at such a priceless treasure.

Kakyoin swam over to a lopsided piece of wood to hide behind and think of how to approach you organically. Muttering to himself plan after plan unaware of the curious merrow eyeing the distressed merman. Kakyoin felt a tentative tap on the shoulder. He flushed as he made eye contact with his darling, who smiled so brightly at him. They were so beautiful when they smiled so sweetly at him. "Did you need help-oh you're that guy from the market um... Norisaki?" You remembered him... sort of. What a wonderful thing!

"Noriyaki, I'm surprised you remembered me." Kakyoin chuckled to himself. You smiled at him before blushing slightly. "It's kind of hard not to since our meeting was so embarrassing." You were the type to allow embarrassing moments to dwell in your head long after they occurred. It was quite cute. "It's quite alright neither of us were truly harmed. Are you usually so hard on yourself?" Your flushed face grew even more red with the last sentence. "Um...I hold my silence?" Kakyoin laughed at your meek response.

"That's quite alright... you know between you and me I happen to come to this sunken ship for human treasures." At the words "human treasures" your eyes lit up like bioluminescent phytoplankton at the thought of finding a kindred spirit. "I didn't know other merfolk liked human things, most of my friends call their things garbage." You looked down sadly as you finished your sentence, tracing the water rotted wooden beam in your hand. Kakyoin placed a hand of yours and stared at you with his mesmerizing purple eyes. "Some people don't understand something's value if it isn't immediately obvious." Kakyoin pulls out the glimmering brooch that shone in the filtered light of the ocean, bringing out the (e/c) of your eyes.

"It's absolutely beautiful." You marveled at the brilliant emeralds and rubies that made up the serpent pendent. In all your trips here, you had never found something so opulent before. Only thing close was a rusty spoon. Kakyoin noticed your eagerness with a tender smile. "You can have it if you want." You looked curiously at the merman seeing if he was being serious. "I'm not going to bite you; you can take it." Kakyoin smiled as the merrow hesitantly took the brooch from his outstretched hand. Yes, everything was going to plan, he imbued that brooch with magic so he could track where you go. Like the serpent in mythology, Kakyoin was not to be trusted.

"Thank you so much Nori!"

"You're welcome, my darling."

His plan was working smoothly as you were practically eating anything he told you straight from his palm. You were so sweet and trusting, it made his heart melt from fervent worship. He adored you more than anyone ever could, that alone should make him worthy of you. However, his fish disguise wore off after 48 hours and he'd be put through hell again to bring back the illusion. It wasn't the slightest bit healthy to keep this act up, but it would be all worth it in the end. When he had you safely in his arms.

His precious little mate

He'd find a way for you to have children, through magic or adoption. That way when you accept him you would be fully bound to each other. Forever. A blue flush covers his faces as he giggles to himself, oh you two would have so many wonderful years together! Just you and him and no one else.

Of course, there were a few road bumps Kakyoin needed to face first.

Your friends were skeptical of his intentions towards you as he looked familiar to a certain sea witch who was known for taking advantage of the poor souls who came to him out of sheer desperation. He couldn't let them continue to poison your mind with their deceitful words (where's the lie tho?). His amethyst eyes glinted with sadistic glee as one by one your friends were placed under his thumb as they came to him for help for problems he caused.

Poor darling, you had no idea why all your friends suddenly disappeared without a trace. The towns people became suspicious of you, thinking you were the reason all these merfolk disappeared. You were ripe with insecurity for Kakyoin to harvest. You fit perfectly in his arms as you sobbed about how life seemed to dole out more that your fair share of problems. "Kakyoin I don't know what I've done to deserve this, do you think my friends hate me?"

Hate you? No one could be capable of hating you, and the wretches who do will be swiftly dealt with. "They aren't worth your tears; good friends wouldn't disappear without telling you. Besides I'm here with you, aren't I?" You gave him that adorable grin that he loved so much. "You're right I have you."

Kakyoin was positively giddy as he swam around his lair, cleaning as best as he could. He convinced you to seek out the guidance of the Emerald Sea Witch, and you took it like the naive, trusting little thing you were. He couldn't wait to show you his real form and seal your souls together via contract. Humming a hypnotic tune to himself and swaying his tentacles sensually, he heard a sweet little frightened voice call out. "Hello, I'm looking for the Emerald Sea Witch."

Kakyoin swam to the darkest corner of his shadowy lair and grinned to himself. His hard work was paying off. Now to reel you in. "You've come to the right place little merrow." He purred sweetly to you. You looked confused as you heard the familiar voice, why did the witch sound like your friend. "My friend told me you might know about the recent disappearances of the merfolk."

He couldn't hold back his chuckle, he had to restrain himself from holding you in his tentacles and peppering you with kisses. You were just too precious. "You'll have to be more specific darling; merfolk are always going missing." You back into the merskeleton where he hangs his cloaks, causing you to squeak with fright. He should have put that away. You were trembling with fear, yet you balled your shaky fists with resolve. Turning to the direction Kakyoin was lounging you spoke shakily. "The merfolk who went missing were my friends, I would like to know if they are alive." The last part made your voice crack with sadness. Seeing you waste your tears on such scum made his cheeks color with rage.

Patience

Kakyoin steadied himself and spoke once more.

"I'll make a deal with you little merrow, I'll find your friends and even let you see them..." Your eyes lit up with glee before turning a bit skeptical. "What do you want in return?" Kakyoin smiled widely in the dark, just a little bit more and you'll be in his tentacles. "I want you to give me rare treasure." The treasure he was referring to was you, but he knew that you would foolishly think the pendant would suffice.

"Deal."

"Excellent, just sign here." Kakyoin snapped his fingers and a golden contract appeared in front of you. If you were smarter, you would notice the fine print entailing that the treasure in question, was your soul bound to his for eternity. You took the quill without hesitation and signed your name on the dotted line.

He did it!

You were his!

"Now where are my friends?" Kakyoin rolled a single vial to you, inside were the trapped souls of your friends crying for you to help them. You gasped in terror and attempted to flee. Two tentacles wrapped around your waist and pulled you towards him. "Not so fast my dear you haven't finished your end of the deal; I want my rare treasure."

You sobbed in terror at the appendages you hated your entire life, octopus were your kind's natural predator. "Take it, just let me go." You grabbed the broach out of your worn satchel and threw it in the witch's direction. "I thought you'd be smarter than that (Y/N)." It clicked as to who was the sea witch. "No." You wanted to curl up into a ball as Kakyoin laughed at the misery in your voice. "Now (Y/N) is that anyway to speak to an old friend."

Kakyoin stepped into the glowing light the cauldron produced making you cry out in fear, anger, and betrayal. "You're not my friend, you lied to me!" You pulled further a the grasp of the tentacles attempting to escape the red head, but he pulled you closer and nuzzled his face into your neck. "I know that I have been a bit dishonest with my method of courting you, but I promise to be more honest in the future." "People will come looking for me and you'll be sorry then!" Kakyoin looked you in your frightened (e/c) eyes and frowned. He then plucked the white ribbon from your hair and sent a magical current towards the town.

"No one will look for you if they think your dead my treasure." Kakyoin cooed gently. "Now then lets finish this courting process, I want us to officially become mates." This statement caused more sobbing from your end as a silver collar appeared around your neck.

"Why?" Was all you could muster. Kakyoin swayed hypnotically with you in his arms. "How couldn't I when you reeled me in."

Sorry if the ending sucked I just wanted to make room for new requests and start working more on my reincarnated sins posts and a cult village story with my own yandere ocs. I hope you enjoyed

[justanothersquidblog]

How do your agents skills compare to eachother?

OK SO

let's make a list of stats that'll be graded out of five stars.

Agility (This includes speed and like, ability to dodge and stuff. also maybe parkour if thats funny.)

Endurance (This includes durability for when they get hit, and like, how long they can last in a fight)

Strength (This includes physical like muscle strength and hand to hand combat, and also their general hand-to-hand combat prowess)

Handyness (This includes their ability to use multiple different weapons, their skills using them, or just technical work like inventing)

Wits (this includes how smart they are street wise)

Smarts (this includes how smart they are book wise)

Now lets get grading! I'll make this a read more since its long.

San - The Captain

Agility: 3/5 Is pretty average to say the least. Can do the dualie dodge roll with weapons that aren't dualies. (can't squid roll though..) Used to be more of a 4/5 back in their hayday but not bad considering their next skill's rating...

Endurance: 2/5 San used to be pretty damn tough and durable. But after being hit by the sanitization ooze, San's body and immune system weakened pretty severely.

Strength: 8/5 Despite our previous rating though, San is still horrifyingly powerful. San may have been a 10/5 back in Splatoon or before OE. An absolute demon. Isn't like, supernatural of course. You're not gonna see San pick up 14 wheelers like superman but like. Dude is strong. Dude can break bones. Dude picked up that slicey thing in Rise of the Mammalians. Yeah.

Handyness: 2.5/5 San's pretty meh with the other weapons? They're not great (which is why the minus 0.5) There's some clear favoritism with their trusty old hero shot that they refuse to fully depart from. It's their baby.

Wits: 4/5 They're pretty hip they're pretty cool they're pretty fresh. I hate that I said that. Thank Callie for that. But they've also matured and began to understand people now.

Smarts: 4.5/5 They're also pretty smart! Got through school. Knows how to do taxes. Thank Marie for that. But they're also quite tactical and can process logistical things better now.

Final Grade: San is a grade A glass cannon that can no longer be relied on during missions due to their lack of endurance/durability and roundedness with weapons but has shapened into a good enough leader to make up for their lack of on-the-battlefield-duties!

-

Yon - Agent 4

Agility: 4/5 Yon is very fast. And she's a dualie main so her dodging around is sorta a specialty. I think she could learn how to squid roll if she wanted to. But yeah! She's quick on her feet.

Endurance: 4/5 Yon is pretty durable! She can take a good amount of hits! But I think the weakest part of her is her confidence. If she has some doubt in her mind, she's prone to give in or give up easier.

Strength: 3.5/5 Yon used to be quite the wimp when she was younger due to primarily staying inside and studying! But moving out has given her lots of opportunities to stay fit and thanks to being an agent, get tough.

Handyness: 5/5 SHE HAS TO TEST.. SO MANY WEAPONS.. While Dualies are her preference, Yon is adept at pretty much every single weapon on the market thanks to Sheldon and Hachi's test requests. It makes her very reliable.

Wits: 2.8/5 While Yon has definitely become more cultured with modern society and trends, she's never fully gotten engrossed, even if she acts the part. She's a bit awkward and a bit naïve but we love her all the same.

Smarts: 4.5/5 Yon is very book smart. Not tactically like battle tactic wise but she's very book smart in terms of like, knowing how things work, math, science, like- things one can study for. This Squid knows how STOCKS works. Yay.

Final Grade: Yon is very well rounded, probably the most reliable agent in the Squidbeak Splatoon thanks to her even abilities, smarts, and her jack of all trades touch to using weapons. She has no plans on going up the ranks and no plans to outright pursue the Splatoon as her only job, but she's a very valuable member all the same.

-

Hachi - The Retired Agent 8

Agility: 3/5 While she could have probably ranked a 5 when she was in OE and parkouring with heels on, she's mellowed out and taken time off from that sort of intenseness.

Endurance: 5/5 Dude, Hachi is TOUGH. She is a fridge of a woman. You cannot shove her over if you tried. Her back may be pretty scarred from the tests but she is HARD to take down. She's been through hell and back and there's nothing much that can challenge her durability like that.

Strength: 4.5/5 While Hachi was pretty strong in OE she's become a VERY strong person thanks to working as pretty much a blacksmith for Ammoknights. She's beefy. She can pick up all her friends.

Handyness: 6/5 Like Yon she's very attuned to all weapons thanks to her experiences with testing them, although now it's more so because she makes those same weapons and has come to an even deeper understanding to them.

Wits: 3.5/5 She's pretty social all things considered. And she sorta got a very in depth crash course with society thanks to Pearl and Marina. They keep her up to date on EVERYTHING. So she's pretty fresh.

Smarts: 5/5 SHE MAKES WEAPONS SHE'S REAL SMART

Final Grade: Hachi is an absolute powerhouse. One woman army she is, with the highest amount of 5+/5 grades. But, she's retired from being an agent. So terrifying misadventures in [eggman voice] THE FUCKING BUILDING AGAIN are the only reason she'd be back and out on the field.

-

Neo - Agent 3

Agility: 4.5/5 Is the only member of the splatoon who can do the squid roll. I don't know why. I just think it'd be funny. Aside from that though, is very quick and very athletic.

Endurance: 4.5/5 This DUDE survived both SPACE AND THE DESERT. They're pretty tough! And her salmonid-like life style really tested his durability as an inkling.

Strength: 7.5/5 Like San, Neo possesses a very unnatural raw strength that powers them through her life. He's still got a ways to go compared to San, but their ferocious spirit carries her very far. I'd say Neo is much better at hand to hand combat than guns or rollers and whatnot though.

Handyness: 2.5/5 Like I said before, I think Neo is better at hand to hand combat than weaponry. Dude's stronger with claws than a gun, although, their introduction to more inkfish weaponry with ORCA's testing was picked up very quickly.

Wits: 2.5/5 If you wanted to know about Salmonid culture and street smarts there. Oh 5/5. But uh. Actual inkfish society? Uh.. taps tongue. They're a bit- well, she's at least pretty quick if it notices someones not being honest. Neo is NOT naïve. But they are very much a salmonid raised inkling.

Smarts: 2/5 Uh- she- uh- he- well- they uh- um. They can, count! They aren't DUMB! Let's be clear. They are NOT dumb. They just yknow, never, went to school.

Final Grade: Neo is a rising star in the squidbeak splatoon! Very physically skilled, like a mirror of squidbeak past- but has a lot of room to grow! Neo's still a rookie after all, and is figuring itself out.

[arvensimp]

I had an idea for a request so basically reader is hurting them self while helping Arven to cook and he would do anything to make them feel better !

Sure thing! So, I did a thing in a previous fic where Arven taught them about knife safety, so if it’s okay, I’m going to keep away from cuts. I hope that’s alright. Also, this isn’t strictly helping him cook? I hope you like this idea too though?

-

Burning Love

Arven x Reader, no gendered pronouns used, established relationship. CW, minor burns, kitchen accident.

--

Since the two of you moved in together, Arven has cooked nearly every single meal the two of you ate. Anything he didn’t make himself was either takeaway or was eaten at a restaurant. 

You realized this when you’d gone into the kitchen to make yourself a drink and found that you didn’t know where one of your favorite cups was.

You sat there embarrassed for a moment before scouring the cabinets to find it, too embarrassed to ask Arven how he’d organized your shared kitchen.

You returned to your shared living space, drink in hand and a plot in your heart to be enacted the next morning.

Without disturbing Arven (or Mabosstiff who is still fast asleep at his feet), you tiptoe downstairs with skeledirge and head to the kitchen. Truth be told, skeledirge is no help though. He curls up in a corner and just goes back to sleep.

Now. For the plot. If Arven has made you every single meal in your home until now, you can at least make him one measly breakfast in bed. Right? Right.

Here’s the menu:

Orange juice

Churros

Eggs

Potatoes

Bacon

Heavy? Yes. Delicious? Also yes. Maybe a bit much? Also, also yes. But you’re also the champion who saved the region. You’re basically the definition of “a bit much.” You’ve got this.

The orange juice and churros are easy enough. That’s basically just pouring a glass and opening a package and warming a thing. You’ll save that for last.

Potatoes are time consuming but also not terribly hard. Arven taught you basic kitchen knife skills awhile ago, so you easily dice a few potatoes and set them to boil in some water. Once they’re boiled, you’ll pop them into the oven with some olive oil and seasoning to get the outside nice and crispy. Again, easy enough.

The tricky part is the eggs and bacon bit. Or, really deciding when you want to start the eggs. You don’t want them to get cool because no one likes a cold egg…

And bacon. Well…Bacon’s kinda easy? But you also don’t want it going cold. You also want to be sure it’s the perfect amount of crispy for Arven. 

You deliberate while the potatoes boil and eventually decide that you’ll do the bacon before the eggs; after you’ve set them in the oven.

Once you’ve got the potatoes set to get all nice “home-fries”y, you take a moment to delight in the smell of the kitchen with its warm cooking spices and everything. 

Gosh, cooking is fun. You get why Arven loves it so much!

Okay, time to get to the bacon.

You set the skillet down on the stovetop and get the heat going before you lay down the thick cut strips of maple bacon that Arven bought from a specialty market recently and delight in that initial sizzle. Skeledirge even lifts his head from his little bagel shape in the corner to monitor you with eager eyes.

“We’ll see if we’ve got leftovers, okay, buddy?”

He lowers his head, but keeps a predatory gaze on the bacon.

Things seem to be going well enough, so you decide to prep the eggs by cracking them into a cup, rather than risk cracking them into the pan and having some eggshell accidentally mix in while the heat is on.

You turn your back on the stovetop and oven to get three eggs all set to go. You consider cooking them in some leftover bacon grease too. Would that be good? You know Arven stores some in a jar, but you don’t know if it’s meant for cooking or not after it’s been stored like that…

By the time you’ve looked back to the oven, you can see smoke seeping from the door.

You’re no stranger to fire. Your starter pokemon was fuecoco. You’ve absolutely dealt with stupid fires before. To this day, you’re not entirely sure that skeledirge has anything more than a peanut between his precious eyes.

All that to say, you’re not afraid to open the door to the smoking oven. You’ve prepped with oven mitts, and you’re ready to deal with burnt potatoes.

What you’re not quite ready to deal with however, is the wave of heat that hits you. You know you set the oven to the correct temperature that was listed on the recipe you grabbed online, so something must have gone awry.

You’re also not quite ready to deal with potato smoke getting in your eyes.

After plopping the burning (but luckily not on fire) tray onto the stovetop, you blindly reach for the fan button on the stove hood. You especially want the smoke to start getting out of the way before any–

BEEP BEEP BEEP

….Detectors go off….

Fuck. Well now Arven’s awake.

You keep searching for the fan button to get the smoke out while your other hand goes to turn off the oven. 

Unfortunately for you, your hand finds the bacon grease. Popping, sizzling bacon grease.

You curse loudly and jump back from the stovetop entirely, clutching your now burned hand as you fall to the kitchen floor.

“What’s going on?!” Arven yells as he gets downstairs. Mabosstiff is at his side, and he’s got the pokeballs for garganacl and cloyster in each hand. “What kind of fire is it?”

“No fire,” You call to him blindly from eyes, teary now not only from the smoke. “At least not that I can see? Couldn’t find the fan.”

Arven quickly gets the fan on, opens a window and gets the smoke detector turned off. He also gets the oven and stovetop burners turned off as well, all within a matter of seconds before he’s kneeling at your side.

“Show me your hand and tell me what happened.” He genuinely doesn’t sound angry, just overly concerned.

“I…Fuck!” You yelp as he gingerly moves your hand to get a look at the burn. “It’s bacon grease.” You tell him.

“Got it. Can you stand?” He asks, already moving to your side to help you to your feet. “We wanna get that under some water.”

“Yeah…”

Arven helps you over to the sink and tests the temperature of the water before he lets you run your hand under the stream. It hurts like an absolute bitch, but you’re both aware that this is standard protocol. Still, you can’t help the occasional whimper.

Arven sets to cleaning while you keep the water going.

“So…What was going on down here?” He eventually asks when he finally gets to the charred remains of the potatoes that caused this mess.

How horrible, to be spurned this way by potatoes.

You sniffle pathetically. “I wanted to make you a nice breakfast. I realized you’re always making such nice things for us, and… I hadn’t made you anything good yet. I found the recipe online for potatoes baked in the oven to get all crispy, and I think something went wrong.”

Arven gives you a soft, sweet look. “You know I’m not mad, right? I’m just worried that you could have been hurt worse. How’s the hand?” 

You remove it from the stream and show him. “It’s gonna blister up hideously, but it’ll be fine, I’m sure. I’ve had worse.” You give a pointed look to skeledirge who still hasn’t moved from his corner. “Thanks for the help, by the way.” He yawns. He probably couldn’t have done much as a fire type anyway.

Arven goes on. “Keep it under the water a bit longer. …For what it’s worth, what temperature did the recipe say the potatoes should cook at?”

“I think it said like 400? 450? I can check my phone in a minute. Why?”

“...Was this a Unovan website?”

“I don’t know. Does that make a difference?”

Arven pinches the bridge of his nose, and you can’t tell if he’s trying not to laugh or yell. “Unovans use fahrenheit, not celsius.”

“Fuck me, that would absolutely do it.”

“...How are you the same person who saved the region from destruction?” He asks with a laugh.

“I don’t know!” You whine in reply. “C’mon! Be nice to me! I’m hurt!”

“Aw, I know… I’m sorry. I appreciate the effort though. I really do. Maybe you should stick to pastries or simple grains for breakfast for the next little while though?” He’s still smiling at you with a twinkling eye.

“I was also gonna make you some churros… and orange juice.”

“Together?”

“Is that a problem?”

“Well… They don’t really compliment one another, flavor wise, but…. I mean, there’s nothing wrong with having them together I guess.”

“Well then there you go. Keep being grateful to me.”

Thing is, Arven absolutely does continue being grateful to you. He also spends the next several weeks watching your every move in the kitchen, as well as keeping a watchful eye on your healing burns. He knows you know how to take care of yourself, but it’s nice to let someone in to help from time to time.

[astrojulia]

More than Seaweeds

Mermaid's Herbal Compendium

Navigation:   Masterlist✦Ask Rules✦Feedback Tips

       Askbox✦Sources✦Paid Readings

Name: Basil

Scientific name: Ocimum selloi Benth.

Disclaimer: As English is not my native language, there may be some errors in scientific expressions. I am also using local resources.

TECHNICAL USAGE

History:

Due to the shape of its leaves (heart), it was considered a symbol of love in Italy and of mourning in Greece. (Portal São Francisco, 2016)

4,000 years ago, the Hindus, who were percussionists in the culture of basil, exported it to Egypt. (Portal São Francisco, 2016)

In the last century, basil was used by shoemakers to attenuate the smell of leather. (Portal São Francisco, 2016)

The name "basilicum" has its origin in the Greek "basilikós," which means "of the kings or royal," to indicate its nobility. The Greek botanist Theophrastus, in the 3rd century BC, defined basil as an herb of kings. (History of Ingredients, 2016)

Description:

Plant characteristics: Basil is an herbaceous plant grown in gardens and widely known throughout Brazil. It is characterized by the pleasant smell that is released from its leaves. It has a quadrangular stem, and the leaves are opposite, sharp, and abundant. The plant produces small white flowers arranged on an elongated axis, with secondary inflorescences formed on each axis. The corolla has four pieces, and the plant bears fruit with four dark nuclei. It is a meliferous plant. Basil can be propagated by seeds or cuttings taken from the branches. It thrives in fertile soils rich in organic matter, permeable, and with high temperatures. (Treatise on Medicinal Plants, 2014)

Propagation: Basil can be propagated by seeds or cuttings from branches. Basil seeds are sown in 200-cell expanded polystyrene trays containing commercial substrate and kept in protected cultivation. At 30 days after sowing, the seedlings have four definitive leaves and are suitable for transplanting. (PEREIRA; MOREIRA, 2011)

Cultivation: Seedlings can be planted in pots or nurseries throughout the year. For this, the beds must be well prepared, raised to a height of 15 cm. Use 150 g of well-tanned bovine manure per square meter of bed and mix well. Sow the seeds and cover with 0.5 cm of light soil or fine sawdust. The recommended spacing is 30 cm between lines and 30 cm between plants. Irrigate at least once a day, preferably in the early morning or late afternoon. After 60 days of planting in the beds, the first harvest can be made by cutting the plant at 20 cm from the soil. (PEREIRA; MOREIRA, 2011)

How to choose and where to find:

Fresh: Fresh bunches and pots of basil can be found in fairs, markets, and supermarkets. Choose branches with lush leaves that are not stained or wilted.

Dry: Dry basil can be found in supermarkets and specialty stores. Look for products in dark packaging, protected from light, to prevent loss of aroma. Check the expiration date.

How to Store:

Fresh:

Basil spoils quickly, but it can be packed in plastic packaging and dried for up to three days at most.

Chop the leaves and place them in a closed glass container with oil.

Dry: Store in a sealed container, away from light and humidity.

How to dry:

Buy two large bundles of basil, wash them well, and spread them on a clean cloth until dry.

Separate the leaves and make layers of leaves in a glass bowl, alternating with thin layers of coarse salt.

Cover the glass bowl with plastic wrap and leave it at room temperature.

Stir once a day for the first three days.

The dried basil can be used for up to two months. The leaves become dry, and the salt absorbs the aroma of basil. You can use only the leaves or also the coarse salt.

Chemical Composition:

Tannins: Tannins are astringent and hemostatic, and their therapeutic applications are related to these properties. They are mainly used in the tanning and paint industries. They are also used in laboratories to detect proteins and alkaloids and as antidotes in cases of poisoning by alkaloid plants.

Flavonoids: The therapeutic functions of flavonoids are not yet fully understood. The group is known for its anti-inflammatory, anti-allergic, and vasoprotective effects (treatment of thrombosis). Rutin and hesperidin are important flavonoids used in the treatment of capillary fragility.

Saponins: Saponoside glycosides are named for their ability to form abundant foam when agitated with water (from Latin "frog" = soap). They taste bitter and acrid, and drugs containing them are usually sternutatory (cause sneezing) and irritating to the mucous membranes. They are non-nitrogen compounds that dissolve in water, producing foaming solutions by decreasing the surface tension of the liquid. They also have the properties of emulsifying oils and causing hemolysis. The latter is due to the ability of the glycoside to combine with the cholesterol molecules present in the erythrocyte membrane, disrupting the internal-external balance and promoting the rupture of the cell, resulting in the release of hemoglobin.

Essential Oils:

o Thymol: It has carminative, anti-spasmodic, expectorant, and anti-inflammatory properties. It also has significant antiseptic potential. o Methyl-chavicol: It has antimicrobial, anti-inflammatory, local anesthetic, and insecticidal activities. o Linalool: It is used for its woody, floral, and refreshing aroma. o Eugenol: It has anesthetic, bactericidal, antifungal, and flavoring properties, with a hot and spicy note. o Cineol: It has decongestant and anti-inflammatory properties and gives a eucalyptus aroma. o Pyrene

Herbal Actions:

Digestant: An herb that promotes good digestion.

Carminative: Herbs or essential oils that help the intestines release gas by relaxing gut spasms and increasing peristalsis to expel gas.

Sweetener: It has the ability to sweeten.

Aperientes: Aperientes herbs are mild laxatives.

Indications: Basil is beneficial for those who have difficulties in digestion, gas, heartburn, and headaches resulting from heavy or inadequate food. It facilitates the functioning of the intestines and acts as a diuretic. It is good for coughs, vomiting, and bad breath. Along with malva and sage, it helps in mouth infections.

Dosage: There is little information on the safe and effective dosage of basil. Usually, 10 to 20 ml of fresh basil leaf juice is used once a day, or teas can be made by infusing 2 grams of fresh basil or dried herb in boiling water twice a day.

Contraindications: Basil is not suitable for long-term use in children, and it should not be used by pregnant women in the first three months of pregnancy.

MAGICAL USAGE

Gender: Masculine

Planet: Mars

Element: Fire

Deities: Ares, Eros, Zeus, Apollo, Vishnu, and Krishna

Tarot Cards: The Empress, Justice, Six of Swords, Ten of Cups

Zodiac: Virgo, Scorpio, Sagittarius

Sabbath: Yule, Imbolc

Magical Uses (under observation of effectiveness): Basil is linked to love, health, exorcism, and clairvoyance in magical practices. Its fresh leaves can be used as a natural scent to attract passion. Hanging some branches around the house can protect the environment and bring permanent joy. In some ancient cultures, basil was placed on the chest of the dead as a symbol of a passport to paradise. Fun fact: There are over 64 types of basil. (GORI, 2021)

Therapeutic and Enchanted Recipes:

PROSPERITY TEA:

INGREDIENTS: 1 teaspoon of basil, 1 teaspoon of thyme.

PREPARATION: Heat the water for 10 minutes, then turn off the heat. Add the basil and thyme and let it steep for 15 minutes.

CLAIRVOYANCE TEA:

INGREDIENTS: 1 teaspoon of basil, 1 teaspoon of hibiscus.

PREPARATION: Heat the water for 10 minutes, then turn off the heat. Add the basil and hibiscus and let it steep for 15 minutes. Drink four sips before your divination practices, especially oracles.

MIX OF HERBS FOR LOVE:

INGREDIENTS: 1 cup of basil, 1 cup of rose petals and buds, 1/2 cup of patchouli leaves, 1/2 cup of lavender flowers, 2 tablespoons of dragon's blood.

PREPARATION: Place this herbal mixture in a bowl in your home to attract love.

HAPPY SIPS:

*This is a recipe that makes me feel really happy...

INGREDIENTS: Fresh basil leaves, fresh strawberries.

PREPARATION: Make a flavored water by adding as much basil and strawberry as your heart desires. Let it sit for a while (to taste) and drink it. I used to make this a lot when working at the office, and it made me feel fresh and happy.

Sources:

CUNNINGHAM, Scott. Enciclopédia das Ervas Mágicas do Cunningham. 1ª ed. São Paulo: Editora Alfabeto, 2021.

PRIETO, Claudiney. Rituais de Magia com o Tarô. 1ª ed. São Paulo: Editora Alfabeto, 2021.

GORI, Tânia. Herbologia Mágica. 2ª ed. São Paulo: Editora Alfabeto, 2021.

CABOT, Laurie; CABOT, Penny; PENCZAK, Cristopher. Tradução de Virginia Dalbo. Livro de Feitiços de Laurie Cabot. 3ª ed. São Paulo. Editora Alfabeto, 2021.

LADDY, Brianna. Apostila Magia das Ervas. 2019. Her Instagram

LADDY, Brianna. 25 Feitiços usando a Magia das Ervas. 2021. Her Instagram

MINHAVIDA. Manjericão alivia problemas intestinais e tem ação anti-inflamatória. Disponível em: https://www.minhavida.com.br/materias/materia-11744#:~:text=Existe%20pouca%20informa%C3%A7%C3%A3o%20sobre%20a,fervente%20duas%20vezes%20ao%20dia. Acesso em: 11 abr. 2021.

SOCIEDADE BRASILEIRA DE FARMACOGNOSIA. Taninos. Disponível em: http://www.sbfgnosia.org.br/Ensino/taninos.html. Acesso em: 11 abr. 2021.

PARODI, Lorenzo. MANJERICÃO. Disponível em: http://www.ingredientes.blog.br/. Acesso em: 11 abr. 2021.

PORTAL SÃO FRANCISCO. Manjericão. Disponível em: https://www.portalsaofrancisco.com.br/alimentos/manjericao#:~:text=Devido%20%C3%A0%20forma%20de%20suas%20folhas%2C%20(cora%C3%A7%C3%A3o)%2C%20era,atenuar%20o%20cheiro%20do%20couro. Acesso em: 11 abr. 2021.

GRANDI, Telma Sueli Mesquita. Tratado das plantas medicinais [recurso eletrônico]: mineiras, nativas e cultivadas. 1. ed. – Dados eletrônicos. Belo Horizonte: Adaequatio Estúdio, 2014. (Download the book HERE)

HOFFMANN, David. Tradução Euclides Luiz Calloni. O guia completo das plantas medicinais: ervas de A a Z para tratar doenças; restabelecer a saúde e o bem-estar. 1ª ed. São Paulo: Cultrix, 2017.

(CC) AstroJulia Some Rights Reserved

[mirikitakato]

[Translation] Shylock SSR Card Story: Beginnings of a Foolish Burdensome Love

Gotta love the name that sounds very Shymurr somehow but it's more about Shylock and the Sage. Mithra also appears.

Episode 1: Let’s love both the joy and the pain.

This happened when I and Shylock investigating the incident at the mansion we visited.

Akira: It is rumored that every exhibit here possesses the capacity to attract various forms of happiness.

Shylock: Indeed, it appears to comprise a diverse array of items, ranging from those commonly found in the general market to precious ones crafted from rare materials.

Shylock: Each item has a different effect. Even specialty stores rarely boast such an extensive collection.

Akira: Just like a museum. This bracelet here looks so majestic, just looking at it makes me feel like it's going to be very useful...

Shylock: Ah, that's...

Akira: You know this, Shylock?

Shylock: Yes, it's a golden bangle that brings fortune. Once upon a time, a businessman customer used to wear the same one whenever he visited Bar Bennett.

Shylock: It's believed that this radiant gold can transform the wearer into a millionaire.

Akira: Well, it certainly looks fancy and already makes me feel rich just by owning it.

Shylock: Hehe. Perhaps that attitude will attract even more good luck.

Shylock chuckled softly, then pointed his finger at the ring displayed next to the golden bangle.

Shylock: I've seen this one before at the central market. Notice the clear, ocean-like indigo beads embedded in it?

Shylock: There's a rumor that wearing it wards off not only bad luck but also demons. It's said to be a must-have item for travelers.

Akira: Travelers...I often embark on missions far away, having this one would make me feel safe.

Shylock: Oh? What a lonely thing to say.

Akira: Ah?

Shylock: Indeed, your modesty is one of your undeniable virtues.

Shylock: We're your wizards. If you ask us to accompany you, we shall envelop you in tender care, akin to being swathed in cotton...

Shylock: I would turn even fear into a taste of exciting pleasure and protect you. Please entrust your body and soul to me, please rely on me.

Wine-colored eyes approached me, and I caught a faint whiff of a pipe. He beseeched me in a seductive yet sweet voice, making me flinch slightly.

Akira: Th-then, please let me rely on you...

Shylock: Hehe. What a lovely person.

Akira: L-let's see, why don't we take a look at this room too? There are many places we haven't explored yet...!

Embarrassed, I forcefully opened the door in front of me.

Akira: Ah...

Then, accompanied by the sound of something breaking, the scenery in front of me changed.

Shylock: Sir Sage, what's wrong?

However, the moment I blinked, the scenery immediately returned to normal.

Akira: Ah...nothing.

(I'm sure I saw a rainbow just now...)

Mithra: Ah, you broke it.

Episode 2: Let’s love both the joy and the pain.

Mithra stood at the door, lazily snapping his fingers. As he did, something that had been lying on the floor floated into the air.

Akira: Ah...!

It was a necklace with a small glass bottle swinging at the end of a leather strap. However, a large crack marred the side of the bottle.

Shylock: Did you break something by opening the door? Sir Sage, are you okay?

Akira: I'm fine, but I broke this, didn't I...

Akira: What should I do, this item belongs to the precious collection of Ernest's relatives...

Mithra: You are loud. It doesn't matter, this one is destined to be broken anyways.

Akira: Eh?

Mithra: Arthim

Akira: Wow, it's back to normal...!

Shylock: That's great for you, Sir Sage. I will talk to the owner of this mansion later.

Akira: I agree. I broke it once, so I would like to properly apologize. Mithra, thanks for fixing this.

Mithra: Sigh, even if I fix this, it isn't gonna matter much anyways...Take this, Sage.

Mithra: This mansion is full of garbage. I want something more powerful and usable...

Mithra picked up some amulets lined up on the wall and then casually threw them away, as if he had lost interest in them.

Akira: (Maybe this amulet fell when I opened the door...)

Shylock: I thought Mithra would be delighted to see a mansion stocked with items like this, but... it seems like it would be quite difficult to find something that he would acknowledge.

Akira: Looks like it...Uhm, Shylock, do you know about this amulet?

Akira: Mithra said this was bound to be broken, but...

Shylock: Yes, I've seen this.

Shylock: When you opened the door and this small vial broke... Sir Sage, did you notice any changes?

Akira: Ah, yes! The moment I opened the door, I saw a beautiful natural landscape that looked like an outskirts of some town...

Shylock: That's the power of this amulet.

Shylock: After a certain amount of time has passed, the vial’s color would change to the color of dusk because there is magic cast on it.

Shylock: If you break the vial after its color has changed, you will see its owner’s feelings and thoughts.

Akira: The owner’s feelings?

Shylock: Yes, would it be easier to understand if I said that this vial would show the scenery they desire to see?

Shylock: For a short period in the past, this amulet was very popular since it was marketed with "Making your dream world into reality."

Shylock: I heard it gradually lost its popularity and is very difficult to obtain now.

Episode 3: Let’s love both the joy and the pain.

Akira: Why? Even though it's something people would really like...

Shylock: Isn't it? Initially, there was a collective burst of excitement – "I've been longing to see this!" echoed everywhere.

Shylock: However, desires are peculiar. Instead of reveling in momentary happiness, many found themselves empty, having lost the sought-after scenery in the blink of an eye.

Akira: I see... Rumors like that circulated, and it gradually lost its popularity.

Akira: It's true. People would feel a sense of loneliness when something they eagerly anticipated suddenly vanishes like that...

(But...)

I recall the ephemeral scene showed by the sunset-colored vial.

(That's the scenery its owner wished to see. I'm sure it's filled with precious memories.)

Akira: I'm sure that if I see this amulet somewhere, I would buy it.

Akira: Certainly, it's sad to see the scenery disappear in an instant, but...that would make me feel even more special about the fleeting scene it presents to me, and the associated memories.

Shylock: ....Heh. Your strength lies in your attitude of appreciating what separation offers you, rather than the pain that may await in the future due to it.

Akira: No, it's not that special...!

Shylock: Don't be modest. Every encounter is a series of miracles.

Shylock: But for me, if I were to possess that item...

Shylock: Perhaps, it's not just the scenery that I desire, but a wish – "Please, please stay with me for just a little longer."

A subtle smile graced Shylock's face as he gently used his fingertips to roll the vial in my palm.

Shylock: Although I'm already aware that someday, we will part ways...

Shylock: Yet, I hope the "presence" of us being together will continue a bit longer. Don't you harbor the same wish?

Suddenly, Shylock's words reverberate deeply in my chest.

Akira: This amulet truly is a mystery, the more you think about it, the more interpretations surface.

Akira: Even though we understand that we must eventually let it go... No, that's precisely why we find it difficult to let go.

Shylock: Hehe. Isn't this kind of contradiction endearing?

Shylock: Farewells and encounters are integral parts of life. Let's love both the joy and the pain.

Looking back at him with a soft smile, I quietly put the amulet back on the shelf. Thinking of the day that will come, I urge myself to be careful and cherish the days ahead, ensuring not to destroy them.

[sonyaheaneycategoryromance]

(via Happy New Year! And an Excerpt!)

BRIELLA AILIONO SNAPPED another photo of herself, hoping the angle highlighted the long dark gown her best friend had designed for this final engagement. The image was about the dress, not her, but if she’d learned anything, it was that appearances were always scrutinized. If her mother was still talking to her, Brie might thank her for the multitude of lessons she’d taught on the subject.

She scrunched her nose as she examined the image. She wasn’t as bubbly as the other potential brides here, wasn’t bouncy and excited for the tiny possibility she’d win the “prize” in a few minutes. She only had one princess ticket in the giant glass spinning lotto wheel up on the palace’s balcony. One shot to become a princess. One shot to wear a crown.

One shot too many!

Prince Alessio’s Princess Lottery was all the country of Celiana had talked about for the last year. Throughout each week, potential brides had purchased tickets and then deposited them on Sunday while cameras watched. It was a year of spectacle.

If she could have devised any other way to launch Ophelia’s bridal gown and specialty dress shop so quickly, Brie would have. A standard rollout with a mixture of graphics across social media platforms, booths at bridal fairs, a well-placed billboard or sponsored “news article” were options.

Success lay down that path, in two or three years. This way, this scheme, with her standing next to all the brides in a new wedding dress designed by Ophelia as she rattled off comments about the gown and the spectacle… Well, it meant success was at Ophelia’s door year one. And wild success, too, not just keep-the-doors-open, scrape-by success.

And her own business was rocketing out of the gate, too.

Her marketing firm; her “little” business, the one her parents refused to acknowledge—it had a phone that never stopped ringing. An overflowing email inbox. Even buyout offers. There were possibilities at every corner.

Built from the ground up with no help from her family, it was Brie’s achievement. All hers. She was making the choices—finally in charge of her own life.

The cost was a ticket in the Princess Lottery. The winner got a crown, and Prince Alessio as a husband.

Blowing out a breath, she looked at the image on her phone. It was good, and the dark dress was highlighted nicely against the wall of white and cream behind her. She stood out.

Which was the point of this marketing campaign.

“If my name comes out, I think I might just faint!”

“Me too!” the women squealed, then looked at Brie.

She raised a hand and winked as their eyes widened. Her dress’s dark hue gave off a less hopeful vibe. Though like all Ophelia’s designs, it was gorgeous.

“Good luck, ladies.” Brie smiled as they walked away. She didn’t really mean the words. No one should “win” their groom.

You can read the whole first chapter here.

Learn more about How to Win a Prince and where you can find it here

Order your copy of How to Win a Prince from Harlequin’s website here.

Order your copy of How to Win a Prince from Mills & Boon’s website here.

Join my Substack here – and get a free book every month from a category romance author this year when you are subscribed.

You can find my website here.

[mybeautifulbeautifuleternal]

You were quiet as you moved about the kitchen, at ease in the foreign space. It was a cool Saturday morning and you were trying your best to take care of your farmer’s market finds without waking up Eddie. You had felt him climb into bed pretty late and knew he needed the sleep, some new story catching his attention. Eddie had dug his teeth into it, refusing to let go, and last night was actually the first time this week that the two of you had shared a bed, no matter how brief it might have been. You hadn’t wanted to wake him but it was your routine to go to the market.

It was as you were folding up the bags to place back into the correct spot that Venom struck, nuzzling their way over your shoulder to lay a kiss on your cheek in an approximate of a kiss. You jumped in shock, your heart rate rocketing upwards.

GOOD MORNING, SWEETLING

You had slammed back against the counters and it was there that you lay, a hand held against your throat to silence the scream that was rising in your chest. Swallowing with difficulty, your attempt to greet Venom back took a few seconds.

“Go-Good morn-“ coughing slightly, you tried again. “Good morning.”

YOU ARE SCARED

“You startled me,” you waved away their worry, moving to get a glass of water. “I didn’t hear the bedroom door open.”

I HEARD YOU COME BACK. YOU LEFT US

“It’s Saturday, Venom. I went to the farmers market this morning,” you gently placed your cup down and moved to show Venom your biggest find. “And look what I found!”

Venom’s head followed you to the dining table, stretching out farther when they finally smelt the specialty chocolate you had spotted at the market.

CHOCOLATE!

“Just for you,” you stroked a hand down their head, “so don’t let Eddie bully you out of it.”

It was then that Eddie’s arms wrapped around your waist, scaring you for the second time that morning. He slumped against you after your feet hit the ground, murmuring a soft apology into the curve of your neck.

“What’s this then,” his morning voice was gravely and rough, rumbling from his deep chest. “I don’t bully anyone.”

Your scoff of disbelief was drowned out by Venom’s howl and you let yourself relax back into Eddie, the sound of their bickering a familiar if slightly annoying soundtrack.

A/N — any blank blogs that follow me are going to be reported then blocked. Pick a different profile pic and get a witty header or something.

[the-dalseum-duet]

prompt response #2: “old friend”

I’m going to try to make these prompt responses a daily thing for now, even though I’m about to be really busy. I need something to keep me going though, so I can look forward to this! :)

Tonight’s prompt was #1107 from @creativepromptsforwriting, but I changed the wording a bit better to fit the scene.

“Damn it,” Charlie breathed. She tied her asymmetrical blonde curls into a makeshift bun as she narrowed her eyes. 

“I told you it was going to be crowded.” Adam rested his body against the mossy wall of a crumby building and inspected his chipped nails. “The Lovesong Square is always crowded.” 

“Why is it this busy during the Empress’s coronation?” Charlie asked, loosening the straps that held her hatchet on her back. “Shouldn’t the whole island be there?”

“Everything is broadcasted now,” Crow said, crossing his arms. “Why risk any possible threats to security, especially now? Plus, livestreams are much more accessible than attending a formal coronation.” 

“When did The Court ever care about being accessible?” Charlie scoffed, slowly spinning her axe between her tiny hands. 

“Because caring about it suddenly became beneficial,” Adam said. “They’re a one-trick pony— all they do is pretend to care about major issues to save their own asses.” 

“Yeah, I don’t think social reforms are going to hold up against this.” Charlie wiped the blade of her hatchet with her shirt.

“Remember, violence is the last resort.” Crow nudged Charlie with his elbow.

“Yeah,” Charlie lied. “Last resort.” 

The Blackbirds traversed deeper into the Lovesong Square, a trail of gasps and murmurs following their every footstep. Whispers of “Is that?” and “Surely not…” circled through the Square as Charlie briskly paraded through the crowd, her reflective blade lighting the way for Adam and Crow. To many citizens of Dalseum, they were unrecognizable. What were public figures without avant-garde attire and flamboyant makeup? 

The visitors of the Lovesong Square who were unaware of the Blackbirds’ looming presence were indeed focused on a public figure with avant-garde attire and flamboyant makeup. Gale Porter had a pop-up booth near the heart of the Square where he was selling a variety of mismatched items, many of which were dyed a muted purple to celebrate Marie’s coronation. Beiges and off-whites were his specialties, so it was not difficult to alter his designs to adapt to the ever-changing markets. His shimmering lilac eyeshadow and deep plum lips were leagues above Porter’s comfort zone, but boldness and brashness were the only ways to capture the attention of the consumers in Dalseum. Especially the ravenous crowd of the Lovesong Square.

As he folded a pleated miniskirt, the rumors of “Blaire” and “Crow” weaseled their way into his ears. Despite his diminutive stature, he peered beside the line at his tent and caught a glimpse of that evening’s most popular posse. He could recognize Charlie’s determined stride and jittery eyes anywhere. He always thought she was perfect model material. The Charlie who flaunted her half-matted curls and stretch marks from her torso to her thighs was far from the princess Gale had originally expected. 

Adam. That was the boy’s name— well, “the man” now that nearly two decades had passed. He awkwardly loomed over the others like a shabby umbrella, making him the perfect target. He made eye contact with Gale, then furiously glanced away. Gale grinned. His mission would be set in motion. 

“I will return shortly to check out everyone!” Gale announced as he locked the sliding glass to protect his stock. “I have some Court business that must be finished first. It should not take long, I promise!” 

Gale patted the top of his gentrified antique riding boots before waving down the Blackbirds. 

Gale loudly clapped as he stood atop a stray crate. “Prince Crow, I thought you were on lockdown!” he laughed, his Cockney accent slurring his vowels. Crow rolled his tired eyes, much like his own father whenever Gale spoke. 

“Leave my son alone, Porter!” Charlie barked, slinging her hatchet over her shoulder. She stepped in front of Crow and Adam, poising her weapon to shield them.

“Calm down,” Adam whispered, inching closer to her. “We don’t know what he wants.”

“It’s not going to be good,” Crow assured them, shoving his way in front of Adam. 

“Was that a threat, Blaire?” Gale subtly crouched, tilting his head. A crowd had begun to circle them. 

“Everything The Court has thrown at us has been a threat,” Charlie said. “I have every right to throw one back.”

“That’s an unfortunate way to greet an old friend.” Gale’s gloved hands reached down to his boot. 

“We were never friends.” Charlie blinked. “I intend to keep it that way.”

“Charlie,” Adam hissed through clenched teeth. Charlie shot him a quick glare. 

“You know, you never upheld that deal with Chea,” Gale reminded her, shaking his head. 

“Deal with Chea?” Adam repeated. 

“Oh, don’t be stupid. I was never going to uphold my end, and Sonnet wasn’t going to uphold theirs. We were buying ourselves time.”

“What?” Crow and Adam said simultaneously, locking eyes.

“It’s funny you say that, Blaire.” Gale stuck his hand down his shoe. He pulled a handheld revolver from the inside. The crowd quickly dispersed as the bronze metal glinted in the colorless sunset.

Before Gale had the chance to aim, Charlie slid across the gravel path of the Lovesong Square and lifted her axe beside the crate. She sharply yelled as she swung, driving the blade through the top of his head. Blood splattered across the tightly packed rocks and pristine green grass, and the market-goers screamed right alongside her. Adam instinctively covered Crow’s eyes before averting his own. Gale’s corpse pathetically fell, leaving a trail of various fluids splattered against the crate.

“What the fuck?” Crow screamed. “Why would you-“

“It doesn’t matter now.” Charlie swung her bloody weapon across her shoulder again, chunks of flesh still caught on the tip. “Porter’s a rat whose only purpose is to piss everyone off. I did us a favor. Let’s get to the damn Palace already.”

“But you just-“ Adam protested. 

“It doesn’t matter!” Charlie snapped. “Gale was a means to an end. He would have shot one of us if I hadn’t split his brains open.”

“We can’t just leave,” Adam said between heavy breaths. 

“We can, and we are. Do you want Crow to be safe, or do you want to mourn a lunatic who just tried to shoot you?” Charlie grabbed her son’s hand.

“We’re fucked, man!” Crow exclaimed. “If we want to get on The Court’s good side after Marie becomes Empress, then murder isn’t a good look.”

“It ain’t murder if you kill a rat,” Charlie laughed. She wiped a few stray drops of blood off her cheek as she continued toward the Palace, her blood-soaked back against the setting sun.