#leather cleaning and shoe repair

[theleathercareco]

⁠The Benefits of Regular Leather Conditioning for your Designer Items

Luxury leather accessories, whether handbags, shoes, or jackets, are more than just fashion items—they are investments. These pieces often come with a hefty price tag, but their elegance and durability make them worth every penny. However, to keep these designer accessories looking their best over the years, regular maintenance is crucial. Among the most important steps in this maintenance routine is leather conditioning. In this article, we will explore the benefits of regular leather conditioning, how it enhances the lifespan of your designer accessories, and why it’s a must for any leather lover. The Leather Care Co. aims to give the best services. You don’t have to worry about it anymore.

 

The Importance of Leather Conditioning

Leather, despite its luxurious look and feel, is a natural material that can dry out, crack, and degrade over time if not properly cared for. The purpose of a premium leather conditioner is to restore the natural oils in the leather, maintaining its suppleness, hydration, and durability. Whether you’re dealing with an expensive handbag or a pair of luxury shoes, regular leather conditioning helps retain the original beauty and functionality of your items.

Let’s explore the specific benefits we provide at our leather care store that come with using a luxury leather cleaner and conditioner on your designer items:

1. Restores the Natural Luster and Appearance

Leather, when exposed to environmental factors like sun, water, and dirt, can become dull and lose its natural sheen. Conditioning leather regularly restores its luster and color, bringing back the original look and feel of the item. Products like the best leather conditioner in India work by penetrating deep into the material to rejuvenate the fibers, giving your handbag or shoes that fresh-from-the-store look.

Leather handbag restoration, especially  at the leather care co comes with the right conditioner can work wonders. Designer bags often show signs of wear and tear over time, with areas like the handles or corners being prone to scuffs. Regular conditioning smooths out these scuffs, restores color, and keeps the leather soft and flexible.

2. Prevents Cracking and Drying

Dryness is one of the main things that harm leather. Without regular conditioning, leather accessories can become brittle, leading to cracks and splits. These cracks not only affect the appearance but can also severely damage the structural integrity of the leather. Using a leather conditioner for bags helps to maintain moisture levels in the material, keeping it soft and preventing it from drying out over time.

Luxury leather items, such as bags or shoes, often come with delicate stitching and detailing that require extra care. Conditioning helps preserve these details by ensuring the leather stays supple, which prevents undue stress on the seams and prevents cracking.

3. Increases Longevity

Investing in leather items comes with the expectation of long-term use. However, without proper care, even the most well-crafted designer pieces can show signs of premature aging. Regular conditioning significantly increases the lifespan of your leather accessories, ensuring they remain a part of your wardrobe for years to come. By using products like the best leather conditioner for shoes in India, you’re essentially giving your shoes and bags the care they need to stay beautiful and functional.

Branded leather conditioner for shoes and bags, when used regularly, will help your items age gracefully, retaining their shape, color, and texture.

4. Enhances Water Resistance

Water is detrimental to leather, causing unsightly stains and damaging the surface. While leather is not entirely waterproof, conditioning it regularly with a luxury leather cleaner and conditioner can improve its resistance to moisture. An effective leather conditioner creates a shield that keeps water from soaking through and harming the substance. For those who live in humid climates or frequently find themselves caught in the rain, this added layer of protection is invaluable. Conditioning your leather regularly will help minimize the risk of water spots and stains, keeping your leather items looking pristine.

5. Reduces Stains and Dirt Build-up

Over time, dirt, oils, and grime can accumulate on leather, especially in lighter colors. Frequent conditioning can aid in lowering the accumulation of these materials, which will facilitate cleaning of the leather.  Many leather conditioners, particularly those designed for luxury items, contain cleaning agents that help remove dirt and grime while nourishing the leather.

For example, designer bag cleaning services often use specialized leather cleaners and conditioners to restore bags to their original beauty. By using a quality leather conditioner at home, you can achieve similar results and keep your designer bags free from stains and dirt between professional cleanings.

6. Maintains Flexibility and Softness

Leather items, such as handbags and shoes, are prone to stiffening over time, especially if they are not conditioned regularly. A good leather conditioner keeps the material soft and pliable, ensuring that your luxury items remain as comfortable and flexible as the day you bought them. Whether it’s a pair of heels or a beloved handbag, regular conditioning prevents leather from becoming stiff and uncomfortable.

A well-conditioned bag feels soft and luxurious in your hands, while a pair of shoes treated with the best leather conditioner for shoes in India will mold to your feet, offering optimal comfort with every step.

7. Adds Value to Your Investment

Designer leather accessories, especially those from well-known brands, can hold or even increase their value over time—if they are well-maintained. Regular conditioning is essential in keeping your items in top condition, preserving their resale value. If you ever decide to sell your preloved designer pieces, whether through a branded bag repair service or a luxury consignment shop, well-maintained leather will always fetch a higher price.

8. Choosing the Best Leather Conditioner

Now that we understand the importance of regular leather conditioning, the next step is selecting the right product. The market is flooded with leather conditioners, but not all are equal. Look for a conditioner made especially for high-end leather goods while making your selection. The best leather conditioner in India should be gentle on the leather, free from harsh chemicals, and able to penetrate deeply to nourish and protect the material.

If you’re looking for a branded leather conditioner for shoes, ensure the product you choose is suitable for both shoes and handbags, as the materials can vary. Using the wrong conditioner can lead to discoloration or even damage your accessories.

9. Protects Against Environmental Damage

Being a natural material, leather can be harmed by the sun, humidity, and pollutants. Leather that is exposed to the sun for an extended period may fade and weaken, and dampness may encourage the growth of mold or mildew. Regular conditioning provides a layer of protection against these elements, safeguarding your designer accessories from harsh conditions. By using a luxury leather cleaner and conditioner, you’re not only preserving the aesthetic appeal of your leather items but also preventing damage that could lead to costly repairs. Keeping your leather supple and protected ensures it can withstand daily wear while maintaining its luxurious quality over time.

Conclusion

It doesn’t have to be difficult to keep your expensive leather accessories in good condition. By incorporating regular leather conditioning into your care routine, you can keep your luxury items looking beautiful, prevent damage, and extend their lifespan. Whether using the best leather conditioner for shoes in India or a specialized product for bags, conditioning your leather ensures that your investment retains its value and charm for years to come.

With the right conditioner and care at the leather care co, your leather handbags, shoes, and accessories will remain as stylish and functional as the day you bought them—making regular conditioning an essential step for any fashion enthusiast.

[leonsdrycleaners]

Elevate Your Wardrobe Care with Leon’s Premier Laundry Service Victoria, South West London

Introduction: The Pinnacle of Wardrobe Maintenance

In the heart of Victoria, South West London, Leon’s Premier Laundry Service offers unparalleled care for your garments. From everyday attire to delicate fabrics, our service is designed to preserve the quality and extend the life of your wardrobe.

The Essence of Professional Laundry Services

Beyond Basic Washing

Professional laundry services encompass much more than just washing clothes. They involve intricate processes tailored to different fabrics and stains, ensuring your garments receive meticulous care.

Advanced Cleaning Techniques

Utilizing state-of-the-art equipment and specialized detergents, our laundry service addresses various cleaning challenges. Whether it’s removing stubborn stains or treating delicate fabrics, our methods guarantee exceptional results.

Tailored Solutions for Every Fabric

Delicate Silks and Satins

Silk and satin garments require gentle handling. Our specialized cleaning techniques ensure these luxurious fabrics are treated with the utmost care, preserving their sheen and texture.

Robust Cottons and Denims

For more durable fabrics like cotton and denim, our service employs effective cleaning solutions to maintain their strength and appearance. Regular care helps prevent wear and tear, keeping your wardrobe in top condition.

Comprehensive Services at Leon’s

Leather Cleaning and Restoration

Leather cleaning service in Victoria, South West London is a crucial aspect of wardrobe maintenance. Our experts use premium products to clean and restore leather items, ensuring they retain their original luster and flexibility.

Wedding Dress Preservation

Preserve the memories of your special day with our wedding dress cleaning service in Victoria, South West London. Our meticulous process safeguards your dress from damage, ensuring it remains a cherished heirloom.

Duvet and Blanket Cleaning

Experience the comfort of a freshly cleaned duvet with our duvet cleaning service in Victoria, South West London. We use advanced techniques to remove allergens and stains, enhancing your sleep quality and extending the life of your bedding.

Curtain Cleaning Excellence

Curtain cleaning service in Victoria, South West London is vital for maintaining the beauty and functionality of your curtains. Our service removes dust, stains, and odors, ensuring your curtains continue to enhance your home’s ambiance.

Additional Services to Complement Your Laundry Needs

Key Cutting Services

Our key cutting services in Victoria, South West London offer convenience and efficiency. Whether you need spare keys or replacements, our precise cutting ensures reliability and accuracy.

Shoe Repair Services

Extend the life of your favorite footwear with our shoe repair services in Victoria, South West London. From heel repairs to sole replacements, our expert services keep your shoes looking and functioning like new.

The Benefits of Choosing Leon’s Premier Laundry Service

Enhanced Garment Lifespan

Regular professional care prevents fabric degradation and extends the life of your clothes. Our advanced techniques ensure your garments maintain their quality, even with frequent wear.

Improved Hygiene

Professional cleaning eliminates bacteria, allergens, and pollutants, contributing to a healthier living environment. This is especially important for items like bedding and curtains, which can harbor dust and allergens.

Convenience and Expertise

Our comprehensive laundry services, coupled with expert care, offer unmatched convenience. You can trust Leon’s to handle your wardrobe with the precision and attention it deserves, saving you time and ensuring high-quality results.

Conclusion: Transform Your Wardrobe Care with Leon’s

Elevate your wardrobe care with Leon’s Premier Laundry Service in Victoria, South West London. From everyday cleaning to specialized treatments, our services are designed to enhance the longevity and appearance of your garments. Experience the difference with Leon’s, where exceptional care meets unparalleled expertise.

[luxury-leather]

From Worn to Wonderful: Shoe Repair & Cleaning Service

With the help of our skilled Shoe Repair & Cleaning Service, you may revitalise your worn-out, fatigued shoes. Our speciality at Luxury Leather and Furniture Care is restoring your shoes from worn to fantastic. Our all-inclusive service guarantees that your shoes feel and look brand new by providing expert cleaning, mending, and conditioning. Whether it's deep cleaning, colour restoration, or scuff repair, our Shoe Cleaning Service employs premium, environmentally friendly chemicals to bring back the natural beauty of your shoes. Put your trust in us to prolong the life and improve the look of your favourite pairs.

[frecht]

YAYY shoe repair said my boots will be ready on thursday instead of saturday

[doctoruncle2013]

Suede Care: Tips and Tricks By Doctor Uncle

Suede is a luxurious and velvety material that adds a touch of sophistication to clothing, footwear, and accessories. However, suede can be a bit temperamental when it comes to caring for it. It’s more delicate than smooth leather and requires special attention to keep it looking its best. In this blog, we’ll walk you through the essential tips and tricks for suede care, so you can enjoy your suede items for years to come.

To more info visit our website : www.thedoctoruncle.com

[porcelain-siscon]

noticing your doll has always had trouble walking, something it rarely does because you carry it in your arms almost everywhere you go and wondering what the problem is. the issue isn't hard to pin down, as when you slide its socks off, you can see that its feet are just a single part. no joints below the ankles, just a mass of the porcelain like material that makes up most of the rest of its body

even if it doesn't walk on its own very often, you can't be having that. it deserves better. you measure the foot as carefully as you can, making sure it'll still be able to wear its old shoes, and take extra care with the ankle dimensions so you can make a clean fit. for days, you toil away, often with the doll at your side, crafting a new pair of feet for it

gone will be the solid lumps of material, replaced with jointed toes, themselves attached to a jointed part to allow for more range of motion with each step, even adding a bit of range to the heel. though the feet are no longer sculpted to be cute like the old pair was, there is a beauty in the new jointed model, an appeal in how it allows for more motion. you can't help but feel proud of your work

you motion for the doll to hold out its arms, allowing you to more easily lift it up onto the workbench. you brush its hair away from its face, smile, and ask it to stay still, making sure to guide it through the process to ensure it knows it's safe. it's always been good at staying still, and it's trusted you for a long time, but you always make sure reassure it whenever you're doing anything to change or repair it

you bind its legs to the workbench at the shins, tightening the leather straps so you can pull on the first foot. you don't wince at the sound of tightening cable, something that takes effort on your part, as you don't want any worry to show on your face. a snapped cable wouldn't irrevocable harm the doll, but it would still feel pain and it would be a lengthy repair, to say nothing of how its trust in you may suffer as a result

once the foot is separated enough, you place a spacer between the joint and the leg to keep the cable loop locked, then unhook the old foot. the most difficult part is over, and now all you need to do is hook the new foot in place. you make sure you have the correct one, not wanting to make the same mistake you did when repairing its hands some months ago, then hold it tight as you remove the spacer. once the spacer is out of the way, you keep holding onto the foot and slowly guide it into space so that it doesn't snap, potentially harming the leg and the ankle

a perfect fit. you smile at the doll, brush its hair for a few seconds, and call it a good girl. you're already halfway done and it's done a fantastic job. in its stillness, you can feel its appreciation

the second foot is replaced just as easily. the cable in this leg isn't as old, having been replaced some time ago, so the tension change isn't as audible. you place the spacer, you unhook the old foot, and hook in the new one. just like the last one, you slowly move it into place, making sure it's secure in its fitting

with both new feet in place, you loosen the straps and lift its legs up at the knees to let it know it's able to move again. you smile at it, then move each one of its toes one by one

"can you do that for me?" you ask, waiting to see what happens. it takes a few moments, but soon enough, in the exact order you moved them, the doll moves the toes on its own

"keep going" you say, hoping it takes the hint

it does

the joint further up each foot moves down and then up, as it tests the full range of motion, then moves its feet independently of its heel. finally, it curls its toes down along with the rest of the foot, then flattens it out. it turns to look at you and even though its face remains static, you can tell it's smiling

you help it down off the work bench and hold its hands as you guide its tentative first steps on its new feet. it's clumsy at first, but soon manages to adjust itself to the new feelings and the new range of motion. it leans back and forth, side to side, adjusting itself in ways that it was never able to in the first place

it does not smile, but it does hug. a quiet hum resonates through the porcelain like material that makes up its neck, almost like a high pitched purr

you're glad you could make it so happy

[spitfaggot]

another fun thing about bootblacking — it's as much of a kink as it isn't.

and by this, i mean: it's labor!

we have to look beyond kink into the vanilla/non-kink world to see the only remaining examples of shoe care as a job. the only examples i can think of are shoe-cleaning mall kiosks and, maybe, a chair or two in an airport terminal or fancy hotel. but these places are dwindling, if they even still remain at all. consumerism and planned obsolescence has invaded fashion so much that most people aren't concerned with the upkeep of their actual leather shoes, let alone sneakers or pleather boots.

(edit: cobblers and shoe repair most certainly count, but in this instance i'm referring to chairs or kiosks that maintain the footwear without disassembling it, although there are many bootblacks that can provide services like these.)

this, compounded with the cost barrier to leather gear and a much smaller community post-AIDS of the 1980's i believe has made bootblacking much more scarce in kink circles. i mentored under a bootblack that primarily works bars and club events, and have gone on to do the same myself, and... not many people even know what a bootblack is anymore. i've met people in full cow at the local Eagle who have never even heard of our existence. i was in the right place at the right time and met the right people in order to be able to sub/apprentice under one, and that in itself is a privelege nowadays. instructional videos are lovely, but there's nothing like working with the real thing to practice.

getting booked at events is a headache in and of itself, which is where the talk of labor comes in. if you are bootblacking, you are doing physical labor. it doesn't matter if you're working a pup social at a leather bar, or a private residence party, it is labor. on average, i scrub and polish a shift at a bar event for 5 hours (8pm to 1am) with very few breaks. on a good night, i can polish usually 6 or 7 customers in that 5 hour shift, and that's if nobody comes to me with a Langlitz project or a full set of chaps. tipping your bootblack is crucial, because 90% of the time, that's how we make any money at all.

bootblacking is how i have kept my boyfriend, my cats and i fed many times. and it is very hard to find an event nowadays that will pay a bootblack up front to be there for the night — most just "allow you to keep tips" and maybe comp you a drink or two. at this point i just have a menu of my services that i provide, and i turn away folks who cannot pay or barter. (i, personally, will take coffee as payment for boots and harnesses.) this often means i make less than minimum wage for 5 hours of physical labor.

my point being: bootblacking is a kink, but it will likely be found today more often as a job leatherfolk will take up at an event, much like a vendor. the more public adult spaces where we can actually express it as a kink the better, and those are growing incredibly scarce. and the people willing to pay us even more so, despite how much upkeep leather gear like boots and jackets should be getting.

[obsolescent]

Kinktober - Day 17

Prompt: Shining shoes

Pairing: Trans!Ada Wong x Reader

Author’s Notes: Not me putting my experience as a cobbler into a kinktober prompt LMAO anyways. I infodump about it before the porn lol, enjoy!

Content Warnings: Inappropriate ways to clean and use shoes, P in V unprotected sex, trans!Ada, no gendered language used for reader, slight glove kink, creampie, begging, praising, use of ma'am, orgasm denial.

Kinktober Masterlist

Offering to shine your girlfriend’s shoes shouldn’t have ended you up in this situation. 

It started when you noticed some of her shoes had scuffs on them, others looking more dull than they should have. You had been organizing the closet when you spotted them, and with the knowledge gained from your job, you decided to surprise her by cleaning and polishing them.

Grabbing the ones that need it the most to begin with, you take them downstairs to the basement/your work area, where your cleaning and repair supplies are kept. Setting her shoes into a crate, you grab your apron from its hook and tie it in place, pulling on some nitrile gloves to keep any polish off your skin.

You get to work, working like an assembly line, you wipe each of her shoes down with a leather cleaner, letting them dry, before going in with a conditioner. Once that’s done, you grab a cream based shoe polish, one that can get into the scratches on the surfaces of the shoes, working it into the leather. 

Buffing off the excess leaves the shoes with a bright sheen, which can be built up over time with even more shining and buffing. Finishing with the pairs of boots and heels, you carry back upstairs in the crate, heading towards the bedroom.

Entering the space, you almost drop all your hard work when you hear a voice say, “Is my cobbler busy at work?” Gasping, you whirl in the direction of the words, finding Ada perched on the edge of the bed, legs crossed.

“Ada!” You exclaim, still trying to calm your heart rate but excited to see her home. She had been gone for a couple days due to work, unfortunately not knowing what all she does, you know it leaves her shoes worse for wear sometimes.

She cocks her head to the side, smiling. “Trying to surprise me?” She questions, standing and sauntering over to you. “Yeah, actually! Saw some of your shoes needed some cleaning and polishing, so I took them downstairs and they look good as new!” You hold out the crate to her, beaming with pride at your handiwork. “Cute,” she says, propping her chin up with one of her hands, the other held against her elbow. “But, you know, I could think of a better way to polish them.” 

So here you are, stripped bare before her, hands tied behind your back, grinding your pussy against her knee high leather boots. Ada has one hand threaded through your hair, the other tugging on your nipple. Keening, you nuzzle your face into her hand, trying to keep a steady rhythm against her outstretched foot. 

“See? This is so much better, wouldn’t you think?” She says, staring down at the mess you’ve become. “Y-yes ma’am, so much b-better,” stuttering your words out, brain murky with lust. She hums, “So good,” gloved fingers trailing down your body, ticking here and there. Squirming against the touches, whimpering at the sounds of your drooling cunt is creating against her.

“Now, for the other one,” Ada says, shifting her feet. She moves the slick coated boot away from your throbbing pussy, replacing it with the other. Knees braced against the rug, the burning feeling numb to you as you use them as leverage to continue your original pace, grinding yourself across the surface area of the leather. 

Ada leans back, taking you in. Eyes shut in concentration and pleasure, still wanting to do a good job for her, even if it’s just making more of a mess to clean up later. ‘So devoted’ Ada thinks to herself, knowing this wouldn’t get you off but being eager to please nonetheless.

She moves her foot away once more. You let out a pitiful noise, thighs rubbing together for friction. Ada tsks, “Now, don’t you want more?” You nod, looking up at her with adoration and longing, for her and her touch. She helps you stand before sitting herself back down against the bed, sliding up her dress. 

Spreading her legs, she moves her panties to the side, keeping them, her stockings, and garter belt on, she frees her cock from its confines. You whine at seeing her exposed, desperate to feel her inside you again. Ada giggles, propping herself up on her elbows, “Well, what are you waiting for? Hop on.” 

You don’t hesitate after hearing her consent, maneuvering on top of her to the best of your abilities while your hands are still tied behind you, bound with her ruby red scarf she had been wearing. Once situated, Ada’s hands keep you steady, rubbing yourself against her dick, slicking it up.

“Now you know I don’t like a tease,” She warns, feeling her nails digging into your skin through the gloves, her clutch on your waist becoming firm. “N-not trying to…” You trail off, wanting this as bad as her. She hums, allowing you to continue, before you’re letting yourself sink down. You let out a loud moan at her breaching, Ada merely sighing at the warmth of your walls grasping at her.

Keeping Ada’s length fully inside, grinding down further to allow her tip to press into your cervix. You missed this connection with her, missed having her so close. You whimper, hips swiveling but not allowing any of her to escape. She notices, teasingly she asks, “Just can’t get enough? You must have missed me so much,” she sighs again at the pressure, feeling you clenching, cunt begging her to stay.

“I did, I did, missed you so much, baby,” you jabber, “Please please please don’t leave me again,” words pouring out of your mouth, saying whatever’s on your mind. Ada coos, “Of course you know I can’t promise that, but I may be able to pull a few strings…Stay a bit longer this time,” Her hand reaches to cup your cheek, thumb rubbing against the scarlet tinted skin.

Her hips begin to jolt your body forwards, her arms securing you in place against her as she picks the momentum. You rest your head on her shoulder, moans and sighs leaving you as she uses your body as she likes.

Abruptly, she stops. Pulling your body away from hers, she moves to open the drawer on her night stand, pulling out a bullet vibrator. Your body tingles at the sight of it, the small item packing powerful vibrations that can be controlled with a remote. Taking some medical tape, she fixes it against you, securing it in place so it’s hands-free. 

Grabbing the remote, she sets it to the lowest setting before resuming her tempo. Wailing, the pleasure already so intense against your clit and walls. Tightening against her, you whimper out, “Getting close.”

“Already? We’ve just begun. Hold on a little longer, dear.” Ada says, turning off the vibrator. You groan, “No, no please! Let me cum,” She tuts at you, “Where are your manners, hm? Ladies first, isn’t it?” She questions, movements slowing. “Ugh, I’m sorry ma’am,” you whisper, burying your face into her neck, kissing. She hums, neck tilting to allow you better access.

Her hips moving almost like the waves, rolling into you, her pace agonizingly slow. Ada dislikes feeling rushed, wanting to enjoy her time, to savor it. A handful of thrusts later she turns the vibrator on again, stirring you from the trance of her rocking body underneath yours. “Ready to cum with me?” She whispers in your ear, her leather clad fingers holding the back of your head.

“Yes! Yes please, Ada, cum with me,” the pulsing of the toy melding with her languid pace has your orgasm washing over you, crying out as your pussy seizes around her cock. Ada bites her lip and tilts her head back, soft moan escaping while she finishes alongside you. 

Head against Ada’s chest, you savor the pleasure, her hand petting your hair. Free hand releasing the scarf from around your wrist, your hands reach to do the same to her hair, the black silky locks falling through your fingers. 

A kiss against your forehead pulls you from your warm headspace, Ada’s brown eyes meeting yours. “Now that we’ve said our hellos and welcome backs, I think it’s time for dinner.” You giggle, moving yourself off of her, tossing your clothes back on to begin preparing dinner.

Tags: @caramlizedtomatoes, @cheezbites, @dwkfan, @emilzke, @neondogs, @roseglazedlens, @scar-crossedlvrs

[aurumacadicus]

Pride Pocket 16--Give to Me Your Leather

Kink belongs at Pride. I will not be arguing a fact.

The title is from Stevie Nicks and Don Henley's "Leather and Lace" and rest assured Tony indulges Steve in both. You can also find this fic on ao3 (here). Look out for under the cut!

--

After a gala, Tony was in the habit of simply dropping all of his clothes on the floor and falling face-first onto his bed. It wasn’t that he didn’t care about his clothes, or that he wouldn’t miss a cufflink, or that he expected someone to clean up after him. It was just that, by the time he finally trudged in during the early hours of the morning, he simply couldn’t imagine doing more than that. In his opinion, if he even made it out of his clothes, it was a victory—after hours of shaking hands and kissing rings, of drinking watered-down alcohol and dancing, of seeing off all of his guests (and making sure they signed their checks), it was a miracle. There were a few times that he hadn’t even made it that far, instead crumpling onto the nearest flat surface without having managed to loosen his tie.

He’d been embarrassed, the first time he woke up to find Steve had hung up his tuxedo to send to the cleaner’s. That Steve had set his cufflinks on his dresser next to his watch display, his shoes in the closet. That Steve had sat beside him and carefully undid his garters and pulled his socks off so he could tuck him comfortably under the blankets. He’d known that Steve liked to keep a tidy room. He had tried so hard to keep things neat so Steve wouldn’t regret moving in with him. Steve had shrugged off his apologies, said he didn’t care. But Tony had. Steve had been so hesitant to move in at all, he didn’t want to give him a reason to move back out.

He hadn’t really understood how much Steve didn’t mind until he found him in his closet a week before another gala, carefully cleaning a pair of his leather shoes.

“I have. People. For that,” Tony said when he realized Steve wasn’t stopping. He tipped his head, looking at the different tins in the basket at Steve’s elbow. Clean rags, dirty rags, tins of shoe conditioner and different colors of polish. Where had he gotten those? “You don’t have to.”

Steve’s hands didn’t stutter. “I like to do it.”

“Oh,” Tony answered, feeling like an idiot, and he was only half sure why.

He was suddenly reminded that when it came to cleaning and repairing Steve’s suit, he’d never received the leather harness he wore. It certainly saw a lot of wear and tear from the shield—he’d seen scuffs and friction burns after battle. He’d figured that Steve just. Got new ones. But that didn’t make any sense, he realized, looking around the closet. He’d seen the one hanging with his suit when he’d moved his things in. He had a spare, but… he didn’t like to use it, he’d said. Wanted to work it soft during training first, or something.

“Leather hasn’t changed at all,” Steve continued before he could try to press. He turned, holding the shoe up so Tony could see his reflection gleaming in its shiny black surface. “I don’t know how much you know about me, but—”

“I would hope a bit more than the average person,” Tony mumbled, crossing his arms. He had no idea why he felt defensive. Steve didn’t seem mad. But he was also in here polishing Tony’s shoes, and he didn’t really know what to make of that.

Steve blinked at him placidly. “In the thirties,” he finally continued, once he was sure that Tony was finished. “Buck an’ I had an apartment together. I made money by shining shoes.”

“Oh,” Tony said again, feeling even more foolish. He didn’t know why he should, though. Steve struggled to tell him about his past sometimes, and it wasn’t like he’d ever seen ‘shoe shiner’ under the ‘previous occupation’ parts of his paperwork. “I didn’t know that.”

“It’s soothing,” Steve added, bringing the shoe back down to his lap so he could go back to rubbing it with the cloth in his other hand. After a moment, he slanted Tony a concerned look. ���Am I not doing it to your standards?”

“Doing?” Tony repeated, baffled, and then squawked, “How long have you been shining my shoes?!”

Steve blinked at him again, brows furrowing together in confusion. “Since I moved in with you, Tony.”

Tony had never felt so mortified in his life. Steve had been polishing his shoes for three months, and he’d never noticed. He found himself stepping forward and reaching for his shoe, trying to pull it from Steve’s hand. “You don’t have to—”

Steve smacked his hand away with the sole of the shoe and rolled his eyes. “I’m not doing it because I feel like I have to, Tony. I just told you. I like it. It’s soothing. Familiar,” he added, rubbing at the smudge Tony had left. “Like I said, leather hasn’t changed. And it’s… nice, that I can do something for you.” He offered Tony a wry smile. “Not many gifts I can get for the man who has everything, after all.”

Tony shifted back and forth on his feet for a moment. Steve had never lied to him before, so he really must enjoy doing it. He still felt a little uncomfortable, but he was beginning to realize it was because no one had ever really… cared to do something like that for him before. He opened his mouth to say so, to try and defend the way he’d been acting the past few minutes, but then decided to bite it back. He didn’t want to upset Steve when he seemed to be enjoying himself, and Steve had this habit of going from sad to angry on his behalf when he thought Tony hadn’t been treated right. He was still feeling very wrong-footed and he didn’t want to deal with it if this was a thing that pushed Steve’s ‘Tony’s been mistreated in every relationship he’s had’ button again.

“It’s… fine,” Tony finally answered, voice halting as he tried to find the proper response without revealing too much. “The quality, I mean. I haven’t noticed a difference, so, you’re just as good as the people I was using.”

Steve smiled, but he didn’t lift his gaze from the shoe in his hand, instead turning it so he could observe it from a different angle. “Well, that’s a relief. I have to admit, I did have JARVIS order a pair of shoes for me to practice on.”

Tony blinked, surprised. “Oh. Well, that explains why I suddenly had two pairs of Snowdons,” he said, turning to look at his display of shoes. He’d just figured he’d bought a second pair when he was mindlessly scrolling in bed, unable to sleep. It was a good-looking shoe. He wasn’t mad about it.

“Those are a pretty nice pair of shoes,” Steve said, nodding. He gave the shoe in his hand one last going over before he looked back up at him. “I was thinking about getting a pair myself, for when I have to go to these shindigs.”

Tony opened his mouth to tell him he would probably faint dead away at the price tag. He closed it again quickly, though. He decided he didn’t actually want to be there when Steve realized he’d casually spent a thousand dollars for a pair of shoes without asking. Instead, he finally stepped around him to go sit in the other chair, leaning back so he could watch Steve set the shoe aside and carefully take up the other one. “So, you used to shine shoes for a living, huh?”

Steve sort of grimaced, lifting his shoulders in an aborted shrug. “A living? Well…” He picked up a clean rag from his kit, using it to buff along the toe of the shoe. “It was money. Not as good as having a full-time job like Buck, but at least I was contributing.” The corner of his mouth tugged up into a wry smile. “Maybe if I’d been shinin’ shoes like this, I’d be able to call it a living. I was getting twenty cents a pair where I was. I heard on Wall Street, they charged forty-five cents.”

“And milk came in glass bottles to your house and you bought ice from a horse-drawn ice cart,” Tony grumbled, crossing his arms over his chest again as his mind automatically converted the numbers. So he was making six dollars for every pair of shoes he shined while others were making ten. He sagged petulantly in his seat and tried not to think about how unfair the world was to Steve. It was almost a century ago.

“We had a refrigerator, Tony,” Steve chided, but the wryness was gone from his smile when he looked back up at him in amusement.

Tony huffed at him, raising an eyebrow. “Didn’t hear you mentioning the milk in glass bottles being delivered to your door.”

“I was lactose intolerant before the serum, Tony,” Steve deadpanned, and Tony couldn’t help but let out a bark of stunned laughter.

.-.

Tony didn’t want to say he forgot all about Steve shining his shoes. It was just that between events where he had to wear suits and loafers, he really just liked to skip shoes altogether, preferring slippers but donning sneakers if he needed to keep his feet safe in the lab. He was always painfully aware of it when he got home from an event and slipped them off, though. ‘Steve is going to clean these for me’ was always at the forefront of his mind as he forewent putting them away every time. He’d tried to put them in his closet since, but Steve had shrugged his effort off, and he’d come to realize that was part of Steve’s… ritual?

“I like doing these things for you,” Steve had said when he’d found him worrying over it again, and Tony still felt a warm squirminess in his gut every time he remembered how earnest Steve had been.

Still. It did make him feel awkward sometimes. Steve’s hobbies were all very hands-on, and he was particular about his tools. He’d only just recently let Tony start buying him paint. Tony had offered to pay for some of the polishing equipment, and Steve had just slanted him an unimpressed frown and said no. It had made Tony blush at the time for some reason. He was not going to examine why that was. Steve’s smirk when he realized Tony liked something was already dangerous. He wasn’t going to give him more ammunition.

Tony didn’t think he’d even make it out of his shoes this time, though. His board of directors meeting had run over, and he had the choice of sitting and dissociating with a sandwich or changing his clothes before the next one, shareholders or something; Pepper had reminded him as they’d parted, but he couldn’t remember after the drudgery of the first one. He’d decided he needed food more. His sandwich purported to be turkey and cheese, but it mostly tasted like exhaustion. He considered giving up eating to just stare blankly into space.

Then he felt a pair of hands carefully wrapping around his ankle and foot. His leg was being lifted. Tony blinked at his sandwich for a moment, but it didn’t hold any answers, so he reluctantly followed the length of his leg with his eyes. Steve had dragged a chair over to sit across from him and had lifted his foot to plant it against his thigh. Tony blinked again, taking another bite of his sandwich. When he saw Steve grabbing for a length of cloth, though, he managed, “I don’t have time to change shoes.”

“You don’t need to,” Steve replied easily, shifting his thigh until he liked the angle of Tony’s ankle. “I’m just doing a quick touch-up.” He adjusted his grip on the cloth, then gave it a sharp snap, and the crack of the fabric cutting the air drew Tony’s eyes down to it in shock. “Did someone step on your foot at the meeting? Rude.”

Tony looked at the scuff marks on the left toe of his shoe. They weren’t that bad. He doubted anyone at his next meeting would have even noticed. Still, Steve wanted to do this for him, and he was learning that it was okay to want that, so he let Steve begin moving the cloth back and forth vigorously to remove all the marks. After a moment, when he remembered that he’d been asked something, he added, “It was Pepper.”

Steve let out a huff, half amusement and half annoyance. “Well, I guess I can’t yell at her about not mussing up your shoes then, huh? She was probably keeping you from pissin’ someone off.”

Tony didn’t even bother with giving that an answer. Instead, he just watched Steve work, remembering every once in a while to take a bite of his sandwich. The scuff marks quickly disappeared under his careful attention, and Tony could swear he could feel the heat of Steve’s thigh through the red sole of his shoe. It was… nice. Having this little moment. Feeling cared for. And it helped to know that Steve wanted to do this for him. Tony tipped his head back for a moment, letting his eyes drift shut as Steve examined his reflection in the toe of his shoe. “Should have you take a look at my belts,” he murmured. Those saw a lot more use than his fancy dress shoes.

“I’ve been taking care of your belts,” Steve answered, steady and matter-of-fact, just like his movements. Tony blinked his eyes open again in shock to find Steve looking up at him, raising an eyebrow. “Anything in that closet that’s made of leather? I take care of it.”

Tony opened his mouth, but nothing came out. That Steve shined his shoes had been a shock, but at least they’d made sense, especially with the explanation of having done it in the forties. But his belts? Did he also mean the leather bands of his watches? It’d certainly explain why the leather cuffs they used in bed always looked sleek and shiny, he realized with a vague choking noise.

Steve leaned back in his seat, lips spreading into that smirk he always got when he made Tony speechless. He wrapped his hand around Tony’s ankle and gave it a firm but gentle squeeze, and it sent a thrum of heat through him. “Everything,” he drawled again, punctuating each syllable in a way that each one sent a punch of heat right into Tony’s gut.

“Why’d you say it like that,” Tony choked out, hoping he didn’t sound as aroused as he felt.

Steve’s grip on his ankle tightened before he dragged his fingers down to play with the laces of his shoe. “Is there something you’d like to tell me, Tony?” he asked instead. He was still smirking at him.

Tony felt himself flushing against his will. “No,” he answered, fighting down the urge to squirm under his penetrating stare. Unfortunately, even to his own ears, he could hear the lie in his answer.

“Oh,” Steve said, disbelief dripping from the word even as he nodded in agreement. He very casually tossed his arm over the back of his seat, lounging in it in such a way that it made his jeans stretch attractively around his thighs. “So that riding crop I cleaned and oiled, that belongs to someone else?”

Tony opened his mouth, but nothing came out. He’d hidden the riding crop away when Steve had moved in. Telling him about it hadn’t even crossed his mind. Steve was more of a hands-on guy—he was more likely to use his palm to spank him rather than a tool like a riding crop. And he was so good at it, Tony never really felt the urge to ask for more.

Steve’s fingers caught one of the ends of his laces and pulled, and Tony watched as his shoe came untied as if in slow motion. His mouth went dry. He was vaguely aware of his sandwich falling out of his lax fingers and knew he’d probably be annoyed later. Right now, though, he was focused on Steve’s long, clever fingers picking his laces loose, being careful not to even touch the leather of his shoes with his fingernails.

“If you like leather toys, I can take care of those, too,” Steve continued, hooking his hand behind Tony’s ankle so he could grab the shoe with his other one and carefully pull it free of his foot. “Suede, too, if you like floggers. I can get the stains out and everything.”

“Steve,” Tony whispered, because he knew if he spoke, his voice would shake. He swallowed thickly. He’d never used a flogger before. Hadn’t trusted anyone to use it on him properly. But as Steve gently but firmly reached for his other foot to pull that shoe off too, he could image Steve with one in his hand, carefully using an eraser to smudge the stains off each piece of fabric, cleaning and caring for it just as perfectly as he did everything else Tony owned. “My meeting,” he tried, swallowing to try and wet his throat.

Steve slanted a glance up at him. He was still smirking. Tony swallowed again. He was pretty sure that he wasn’t going to make it to his next meeting. “I think you should help me break in my new harness. Gotta make sure it holds up to prolonged sweat.” He slid his hand up Tony’s calf, flicking his sock garter open easily. “And other fluids, I’m sure.”

“Like anything I produce is going to be the same as alien gore,” Tony said, trying to cut through the tension between them.

Steve’s smirk didn’t falter. “No, but it’s always nice to practice cleaning something… especially soiled.”

“…That’s not sexy,” Tony started. “‘Soiled’ isn’t a—”

“I’m gonna make you come so hard it gets on the harness. Fuck you so stupid you drool all over it, too,” Steve told him, stern and sure, in a way that rekindled the heat between them tenfold. He reached out to grab Tony’s tie and pull so he was forced to sit up more in his seat, eyes dark. “And then I’m gonna make you lick it clean. Really give myself a challenge to make it look good as new, as if I hadn’t fucked you raw wearin’ it.” He wrapped the tie around his hand, dragging Tony in closer, so he could breathe across his lips. “Would you like that, honey? You wanna help me break in my new harness?”

Tony whimpered, and part of him sincerely hoped he was awake to watch Steve clean the harness after they were… finished? With it? Something about the meticulous focus he had when he did it made something simmer hot in his belly, especially if Tony was still wearing whatever he was cleaning. “My meeting,” he tried helplessly.

“You knew you weren’t gonna make it to that meeting as soon as I put your foot on my thigh,” Steve said, voice pitched low and dark, and Tony hoped that JARVIS would make reasonable excuses for him.

[changelingsandothernonsense]

Wip Whenever

Hey guys it's 43 minutes into Thursday and i'm line arting. I managed to get some writing done too so like both? Tagged by @skyrim-forever

Tagging @nyarevar @thequeenofthewinter @saltymaplesyrup @firefly-factory and anyone else interested. Tumblr's being glitchy. 0 pressure as usual <3 Right, arts

Working on some pre-oblivion era Josh since I talked about it so much yesterday. Almost done lining. And a bit from chapter 15 of Sleepers Awake

“B’vehk! Would you calm down!” The stranger yelled, sitting up straighter, “You’re gonna hurt yourself!”

“Yeah, go fuck yourself!” Teldryn yelled, “Where the fuck is my shit!”

The mer sighed heavily and pointed to what looked like a carved, Cyrodiilic-style chest in the corner, just behind where Teldryn was sitting, “Easy, easy there. I put your things in that chest there for safekeeping while I patched you up.”

“You…what?” Teldryn grumbled as he looked down at himself. He was wearing a clean, loose linen shirt that was far too big for him. A fresh bandage had been wrapped around his torso, the top peaking out from under his loose collar. He was still wearing the same trousers he’d thrown on earlier that day, though they were caked in ash…at least the sections that hadn’t been covered in armour, anyway. He was missing his shoes.

“It’s unlocked if you insist on putting that armour back on, sera,” the older mer sighed, “You will find, however, that it’s a bit warped in places. I’d suggest getting it repaired when we arrive in Ald’ruhn.”

Teldryn felt his stomach lurch, panic setting in as his heart struggled to remain steady. He was already later for this meeting than he had any right to be and now he was making the whole situation worse! Cosades would have his fucking head for sure after this!

No, no, no, no!” He found himself scrambling towards the chest in the corner, pain shooting through his side as he started frantically tossing the chest’s contents about the caravan. He gasped for breath as his heart raced, feeling like blades against his ribs as his fingertips tingled. He had to get off this fucking bug! His life depended on it.

“Hey, hey. Slow down there.”

Teldryn felt a hand on his arm and he twisted towards the mer, watching as he dodged Teldryn’s left fist.

“Hey! I’m not here to hurt you!” The other mer said, his voice painfully soothing, just as it was back on the ship, “Calm down!”

“I can’t go to Ald’ruhn, I was just coming from there!” Teldryn cried as he yanked his right arm from the mer’s admittedly lax grip and reached for his cuirass, “I need to get off this thing. Now!”

“You want me to let you off Ara in the middle of a damn ashstorm? Are you crazy?” The other Dunmer yelled in reply. Finally! He’d roused this soft-spoken fuck’s personality.

“I was already stuck in an ashstorm you stupid fuck!” Teldryn growled as he struggled to tighten the lacing on his cuirass, “I’ll figure it out!”

“You’ll figure it out. Hey?” The other mer taunted, raising an eyebrow, “You know, I didn’t take you for a complete idiot but then again...”

Teldryn stared down the larger mer, who had now moved back to his original seating position, “An what’s that supposed to mean?”

He shrugged and reached for what looked to be a shard of scrib jerky and took a bite, “I mean you’re planning on wandering the ashlands this close to nightfall, in the middle of an ashstorm with armour that’s too damn broken to withstand the storm. Either you’re a dim one or—”

“It’s better than the damn alternative,” Teldryn grumbled as he pulled on his boots, wincing as the thick leather rubbed against a bandage that was wrapped around his shin, “I’ll take my chances.”

The older mer reached for his arm though hesitated when he saw Teldryn pulling away from him. He exhaled, his shoulders slumping already, “Alright, where are you heading.”

“Where am I?” Teldryn shook his head, “None of your fucking buis—”

“Hey! I’m not your enemy here!” The Dunmer growled, “I am actively trying to help you! How are you not getting that?”

Teldryn opened his mouth, closing it again as he failed to think of a reply. It was true, whatever his intentions, it wasn’t to hurt him. Gods! He’d had ample opportunity and the most he’d done was touch him. If anything, Teldryn was the one who was posing a threat. He was still just as easily startled as he was on that night back on the prison ship. Just as ready to lash out. Just as paranoid of strangers when he was feeling vulnerable and by the gods, he was feeling pretty fucking vulnerable! Whatever had attacked him out by that estate had really done a number on him. His armour was warped to the point of uselessness, and he was nursing more than his fair share of wounds by the looks of it. He’d perish overnight in the wastes if he tried to brave them now, though it was likely he wouldn’t last much longer anyway with this last fuck up. He’d have to be on his best damn behaviour just to convince this contact of Zainsubani’s to still take him as a client. No one was gonna wait around for hours for him to get his shit together. Especially not some stranger who apparently took bastards like him to points in the Ashlands all the time. Zainsubani made him sound no-nonsense and like…professional. It made him nervous, this whole thing made him nervous…

“Maar Gan.”

[luxury-leather]

Top Professional shoe repair service | LLFC

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[mlqueen89]

fandom: hurt!jake lockley (moon knight)  

rating: 14A

warnings: descriptions of injuries, swearing. very small bit of sexual tension. not beta read, srry! 

word count:  3,778

summary: jake lockley never goes to the hospital. he has people for that. 

A/N: this one almost wrote itself. Thank you to @sejanusxfan for the prompt/request! chapter two of (i love you) it’s ruining my life is in the beta reading phase. should be out soon! in the meantime, i’ll be completing those requests that came in through the november prompts. still have a few prompts left so shuffle on over and request if you want to see more from me!

❥ masterlist ♡ taglist ♡ requests ❥  

Jake Lockley crouched in the shadowed doorway, his back pressed against the cool brick, hands steady despite the pain coursing through him, as he attempted to open the antiseptic he’d picked up from the pharmacy a few blocks over. He’d slipped out the door without paying when he’d realized the blood was seeping through his fingers, squelching under his dress shoe on the greyed tiles as Closing Time played through the tinny speakers overhead.

His side burned with every touch of his clothing against it, and he gritted his teeth, peeling back his leather jacket just enough to see the gash along his ribs in the dim light.

He knew where it had come from, a brush with a young thug looking to prove himself as Jake quickly dispatched his associates. It had been easy, maybe too easy, and that was why he had been slow to take care of the threat of the young man. He hadn’t even needed Khonshu’s armour and maybe that was why he was where he found himself now, huddled in a doorway, bleeding like a dog because of his own cockiness, courtesy of a baby fucking knife.

Lucky for him, the bleeding had mostly slowed, but it wasn’t a clean cut, the fucking punk hadn’t even had the decency to try to attack him with a sharp knife. Clean cuts were easy to heal, easy to repair—this one made every shift or breath sharp and painful.

This would be a valuable reminder for Jake: level heads prevailed. Don’t underestimate stupid punks with dull knives, too much fucking balls and not enough brains. Not that it mattered now. He’d left none alive. Khonshu demanded it—Jake complied with too much gusto. This was why it was him and not Steven, not Marc.

Jake was so lost in his work, pressing gauze against the wound, when he heard the footsteps coming up the stairs. He tensed, muscles coiling, ready to move if needed, but the figure that rounded the corner was… different.

The woman, caught off-guard when her gaze fell on him in the darkened doorway, stared with widened eyes, taking him in. For a fraction of a second, Jake assessed, watched as she looked at him with a mix of something between concern and caution, her hand that wasn’t holding a bangle of keys hovering near her jacket pocket, as if she meant to reach for her phone.

“Are… you alright?” she asked carefully, her voice soft with the edge of wariness Jake recognized, as if she couldn’t decide if he was a threat or someone who needed help.

“Yeah,” he muttered quickly, allowing his clothing to fall back over the wound, straightening as he pushed the bottle of antiseptic back into his jacket pocket. “Just a scrape.”

Her eyes moved to the dark stain on his light shirt, her brow knit together as she assessed the blood already seeping through the hasty bandage job. Jake watched as she hesitated for a moment, and then took a small step forward, her gaze sharpening, focused on his wound. “That’s not just a scrape.” There was an authority to her voice, a quiet but certain confidence he recognized. “I’m a nurse… I can help you, if you let me.” Her eyes flicked up to catch his in a way that most would avoid, but she didn’t, holding his gaze.

Jake shifted, breaking the eye contact, his jaw clenched as he weighed his options carefully, his side throbbing beneath his shirt. Part of him wanted to tell her he was fine, that he didn’t need anything from her, from anyone. But she was still standing there, watching him with a focus he wasn’t used to—a focus that was without the suspicion or judgment he often saw.

“It’s fine,” he mumbled, though he didn’t move to leave and she didn’t stop looking at him.

With a short nod, she moved toward him carefully and Jake tensed as she reached past him, using the keys clenched in her hand to unlock the door behind him, pushing it open with a creak.

Tipping her head inside, she sighed, almost as if this happened to her on a routine basis. “Come in. At least let me get that cleaned up.”

She stepped inside, entering the darkened space and quickly flicking on a light, a warm glow seeping out onto the paved stoop where Jake stood, watching.

He hesitated, but something about her calm aura made him follow, his steps cautious at first, hands twitching toward his pocket, toward the small switchblade he kept there. When someone had lived a life like he had, one could never be too careful.

As he stepped over the threshold, he quietly closed the door behind himself, his eyes assessing the space. In the corner, a small sofa sat wedged between a side table and a large bookcase, each book aligned perfectly, colour coded and she guided him to it without a word.

Lowering himself into the cushions, he watched her as she moved away and buzzed around the small space, opening cupboards here and there, reaching and crouching to gather supplies with quiet efficiency.

Everything in the space was small, neat. Soft lighting, a cozy throw blanket draped over an arm chair, a few photos in frames on the floating shelf above the darkened television across the room.

“Okie dokie,” she murmured, bustling back to sit beside him with her assembled first-aid kit. Jake’s body sunk toward her naturally on the small sofa, “let’s have a look.”

Jake watched her carefully as she began her work, lifting the torn fabric of his shirt to uncover the wound and his patchwork job, too much medical tape and too little gauze. Her movements were sure and careful, her expression focused and unreadable and Jake found himself relaxing, if only slightly, as she cleaned the wound. She didn’t ask questions, didn’t pry or press, just did what needed doing. She dabbed the cut with antiseptic, the kind that looked professional, not the kind that sloshed around in his pocket, pressed the gauze to it with a steadiness that made him almost forget the pain.

When she glanced up at him, through her eyelashes, Jake thought he caught the faintest flicker of something—concern, maybe? But she didn’t hold his gaze long, refocused on securing the gauze, snipping the tape carefully instead of ripping it with her teeth like Jake had done many times before. Carefully, she pressed the tape on, pulling her hands back as if the next words she would have said in any other situation would have been ta-da!, a satisfied nod pulling her chin down. “There. You’re good to go now. See, not so painful, right?”

He only grunted in response, pulling his torn shirt back down, feeling the strain of the bandage that held his side together. He wanted to thank her, but he caught himself, staying silent instead, his features hardened into a mask that yielded nothing.

“Take it easy,” she brushed off her hands theatrically before she folded her arms, a faint smile ghosting her lips. “Try not to get yourself hurt again, mysterious stranger, I might not be home next time.”

Jake gave her a short nod and rose to his feet, the ache of the wound flaring as he did. “Thanks,” he murmured, meeting her gaze for just a moment, seeing the calm intensity in her eyes that lingered longer than he was used to. He took one last look around the apartment, feeling a strange pang at the warmth of it—sometimes he wondered if this would have been nice in another life. “Jake. My name.” He offered quietly and he was thankful that she didn’t respond.

With another nod, he slipped out the door and back into the shadows of the quiet street. As he disappeared in the night, he found himself thinking about her, the quiet warmth of her space and the feeling that, just for the briefest moment, he’d found a simple peace.

Jake’s knuckles were already sounding a single rap on the peeling blue paint of the apartment door before he knew why he was here or what he was thinking that brought him here. Still, here he was, bloodied knuckles leaving a smudge of rouge against the port, his breath sharp from the ache tearing through his side. He leaned against the doorframe, the feeling of his relatively fresh wounds pulsing pain out from his center until he felt it in the tips of his fingers, all the way down to his toes. This was the last place he wanted to be. Hell, he’d meant to patch himself up in some dingy bathroom in the back of a shit hole pub, teeming with germs waiting to infect his wounds, or limp up to the back door of a clinic that didn’t ask questions in the face of cold hard cash or a shiny trinket.

But here he was, leaning on her door, watching the light spill out from a small round window above the door. She was home. Right now, she was the best option, and somewhere, deep down, he trusted her, though he wasn’t sure why and he wouldn’t willingly admit it. Not in words, anyway. This second visit, was telling.

Just as he thought she might not come to the door, it swung open, wide, and she stood in the threshold, her eyes widening when she saw him. No words, just a faint intake of breath, a flicker of surprise that she quickly pressed down. He could feel her gaze sweeping over him, taking in the blood, the ripped shirt, the bruises forming on his face, his jaw swollen.

“Jake?” Her voice was soft, calm, but he could hear the concern that was thinly veiled underneath her carefully composed self. It felt strange to hear, to have someone looking after him, like he wasn’t some reckless, disposable vagabond, living in the shadows.

“Got a little banged up.” He forced a grin through a bloodied lip, one that didn’t quite meet his eyes. “’fraid your door’s the only one I thought to knock on, querida.”

She stepped aside without a word, a silent invitation. He stumbled a bit, catching himself on the wall as he moved past her, trying to hide the wince that flickered across his face. Every step sent pain reverberating through his body, clenching his jaw, his teeth gritting, unwilling to let her see just how much he was hurting this time.

“Sit,” she motioned toward the armchair with the blanket folded over the back, her voice steady and laced with a firmness that brooked no argument, left no room for petulance. Even if it had, Jake wasn’t sure that he had the energy to fight back. A thrill passed through him as he complied, quietly slumping into the chair, his fist balled as the wound pulled from the movement, a new gush of warm blood leaking down his side.

She knelt down beside him, her first aid kit already in her grip, moving quickly and efficiently as she pulled on blue medical gloves. It was almost unnerving, the way she slipped into the role of caretaker so naturally, not shying away from the way he presented—rough, broken, bloodied.

He looked away as she lifted his shirt and he let her, staring at an unmoving spot on the wall, an old nail hole beside what looked like a divot from where a hammer had missed hitting the missing nail on the head. Her touch was gentle, methodic, but even the slightest pressure on his wound made him flinch, and he cursed under his breath.

“Hold still,” she murmured, her fingers carefully pressing around the wound, probing, her brow knit together in concentration, fresh blood already coating the blue rubber of the gloves.

“Is this how you treat all your late-night visitors?” He chanced the question and though it sounded like a bit of a joke, Jake was curious. Was there someone else who graced her doorstep, coming to her broken and bruised, bleeding and alone? Or was it just him? If anything, it helped to ease the tension he felt creeping into the space between them. The pain was manageable, raw in its simplicity—it was vulnerability that bothered him. Vulnerability meant weakness and Jake Lockley was not weak.

She scoffed before shooting him a look, just a flash of exasperation mixed with something softer, just behind it, “only the reckless ones who end up bleeding all over my carpet. Serves me right for getting a white shag, right?” There was a bit of humour behind her words, her eyebrow quirked up as she continued to focus on his wounds, trading and swapping tools and aids to patch him up, a tapestry of pain, accentuated by marks of her care. Despite himself, Jake felt his lip split open anew as he grinned, thankful she wasn’t looking at his face just then.

As she continued to work in silence, the occasional huff breaking the silence, Jake allowed his mind to drift, lulled by the steady movements of her care. Something about this seemed safe in a way he hadn’t thought he could be before. He was always the protector, the muscle, the devil called in to do the dirty work Steven or Marc couldn’t, wouldn’t do. Jake was the one Khonshu relied on when Marc’s conscious got in the way of the sensible path. Jake wasn’t ever meant to feel safe—so here, now, at his most vulnerable, it was strange, foreign, that he did.

He was shaken roughly from his drifting thoughts when she pressed a bit too close to the wound and he jerked away, reflexively, his next words little more than a growl, rough as they ripped from him. “Careful, cariño.”

Her eyes snapped up to his then, and the slight smirk he saw on her lips stirred something low in his gut, something primal. “You’re a big boy, Jake. I think you can handle it.”

“Hmm—that so?” Jake’s eyes narrowed, feeling the violent part of him bubble up, just under the surface, ready for the fight, always ready. It softened again under her touch, the pull of her hands lulling the beast within him into submission again, her fingers weaving the song that quieted his inner darkness as she met his darkened gaze with a steely, determined, unwavering resilience. Behind her eyes, there was a familiarity, a warmth he wasn’t accustomed to and maybe that scared him. More than anything he’d come across in all his years. Maybe it scared him that she didn’t back down, didn’t shy away from his roughness.

With a shake of her head, she was back to work and he allowed himself to relax, to breathe through the pain. It was strange, allowing someone outside of his own body have so much control—even if, just for a few stolen moments, he found peace in letting go.

Then, just as it had begun, it ended too quickly.

The feeling of her hand on his shoulder shook him from his relaxed state. When his eyes found hers, her concern was evident. “Jake,” she quietly constructed his name and it sounded sweet, but serious. He could feel her eyes studying him, as if he were a puzzle she couldn’t quite piece together, a piece wedged in at a wrong angle. “You can’t keep showing up like this.”

“Guess I’m bad at stayin’ outta trouble.” The reply was easy, a brush off. He couldn’t promise he wouldn’t be back here, falling apart in a new way, just to feel the warmth of her hands, putting him back together.

The blue gloves snapped as she peeled them off before adding them to a pile of bloodied gauze, cleaning up their pop—up triage. The sigh that escaped her was deep, but she shook her head, her eyes reaching his. There was no judgment there, only something else—something that made his chest ache with another unfamiliar, uncomfortable feeling.

Jake hadn’t remembered much of the walk to her apartment, his vision framed by a blurred vignette.

He’d lost more blood than he wanted to admit, and every breath made his ribs ache, the pain sharp and relentless.

This time, it was bad. He knew when he stumbled into an alleyway closer to her apartment, careful to make sure that, even in his altered state, he wasn’t being followed.

When he reached her building, the warm glow from her window propelling him forward, pulling himself up the steps with the help of the railing, his fingers slipping on the metal, his hand coated in a layer of cold blood. Mostly his own, some that wasn’t. When he reached the door, his vision was tunneling and shifting, and as he found himself standing there, staring at the paint chipping, he couldn’t remember if he’d knocked or not. He was leaning on the doorframe, eyes closed for only a moment when he heard the door unlock.

“Oh my god, Jake…” her voice was soft, steady, even as she reached out to guide him in, tucking herself carefully under his arm to support his frame that dwarfed her own.

She helped him through the space that was now familiar to him, carefully lowered him to the couch, her fingers brushing his bruised arm, delicate but firm. As he lowered himself, a sharp exhale escaped his lips, the pain washing over him in waves that threatened to pull him under. She left from his line of view for only a fraction of a moment, returning quickly with a glass of water and her first aid kit that had grown steadily over the last month or so since their first encounter.

Reflexively, she moved through her usual motions, dabbing at the visible wounds first, a deep laceration across his cheekbone this time, as she sighed, almost frustrated. “You’ve been here more times than I can count now, Jake. Each time in worse shape. What—what are you doing to yourself, Jake?”

He held her gaze, saying nothing, though he could see the concern etched in her expression, folded in the lines of her furrowed brow as she searched for something, anything that might tell him what he did in the night that left him like this. He didn’t respond and she didn’t push, so she moved to remove his shirt entirely, the white of it almost entirely red now. Her hands skimmed his abdomen, leaving trails where her hands wiped away the blood and he hissed when she pushed a bit harder than necessary against his side. She let up slightly, but her eyes met his with a directness that left him feeling unusually exposed.

Grabbing a cloth, she dipped it into a bowl of warm water he hadn’t remembered her getting, the sound of the water wrung out and returned to the bowl filling the silence between them. She wiped carefully, cleaning his skin delicately before returning the cloth to the bowl, now tinged pink from his blood and repeated. She did this quietly for a moment before she paused, swallowing hard, as if she meant to measure her next words carefully.

“Is your name really Jake?”

The question caught him off-guard and his eyes flashed to the side of her face, immediately cautious.

Still, she continued. “I saw the IDs in your pocket last time…. There’s Jake. And Marc. And Steven.” Her hand drifted up to motion to her brow and Jake knew what moment she was talking about.

A week or so ago, when he’d come to her with an injury that hadn’t really needed her attention if he was being honest. The moment where she offered him the use of her shower because she couldn’t figure out where all the blood had come from because he didn’t have any other visible wounds. The answer, simply, was that it wasn’t his blood.

Instead, he accepted the offer of her shower, relaxed for a just a moment under the warm water as he closed his eyes and imagined what it would have been like to have her under the hot spray with him. Imagined what it would be like to thank her in a way he wanted to thank her. A way that didn’t involve words.

If it was then that she’d seen the IDs in his pocket, she hadn’t let on.

“What’s the truth?” Her soft voice now, brought him back to the present and she looked at him, steady, unwavering.

When he met her gaze, feeling a flicker of something tense just below the surface, something he couldn’t quite pin down, he searched for a moment, looked for fear, doubt. “You afraid, muñeca?” His voice was low as he leaned in, despite the pain, his words laced with the edge he knew people backed away from. But she didn’t flinch.

Instead, her lips curved slightly, into a small smile. “If you wanted to hurt me,” she began, her voice measured, calm, “you would have by now.”

A beat passed, a moment or two when he didn’t back away, and she moved a hand to his cheek, her fingers brushing the bruises, tracing them softly as if she could erase them with her touch, feather light. Jake didn’t pull back, letting her touch linger, feeling a comfort in the contact that pulled him in closer, a gravitational pull and the space between them grew smaller, more charged. The air shifted, thic with tension he knew had been building long before this moment.

When he leaned in closer, he hesitated for only a moment, testing the unspoken trust between them before he allowed his lips to brush hers. She didn’t hesitate in closing the rest of the distance, her lips warm against his, gentle, steady in a way that made him ache. His hand found her waist instinctively, pulling her closer, flush against his body and she sunk against him easily.

His hands, rough and steady, were up her shirt, pressing the thin cotton up until it caught just under her breasts and she sighed into his mouth. Jake moved to pull it off completely when she leaned, hard, against his wound, sending screaming pain through his body. He flinched without thinking, hissed against the unwelcomed feeling. 

“I think we’d better slow down….” she whispered, pulling herself away as if coming out of a haze, straightening her pajama shirt as she stood. When she moved back, it was only to slide the folded blanket off the back of the couch onto his shoulders. “But you should stay, at least for tonight.”

As always, let me know if you want to be tagged in anything!

[whatyadrawin]

The Fruit After The Flesh 18+ -Chapter 4-

Minors DNI!

Masterlist

Approximately 2,920 words

Pairing: Thomas Hewitt(HeadCanon) x AFAB reader

This chapters Warnings: Mentions of violence sort of, Mild sexually suggestive language.

A/n: I have a big work week ahead of me so I may not be able to get much done in terms of writing and especially in terms of art, but I am excited to write out more chapters. In this chapter there is pretty much just fluff so I wasn't sure of what to write for warnings (I'm so bad at knowing what should be a warning I'm so sorry). Enjoy this chapter and the art, leave a like or a comment, Re-blogs greatly appreciated!

User tags: @fan-goddess

Chapter 4

A month has passed since you moved to Fuller, Texas into a property left to you by a distant relative. You visited the Hewitt family at least two or three times a week and made close friends with Luda Mae; every now and then you would see Tommy, and Luda Mae would try to get him to talk to you but he would just freeze and avoid contact. Eventually he would be able to stay in the same area when you were there but never in the same room, he would just quietly watch from the doorway of the next room or outside. His avoidant and distant behavior did not help your budding feelings for him nor your desire to speak to him.

The other day, you were invited to dinner by Luda Mae and you offer to cook for them so you can bond over some good food. You spent most of the day repairing small bits of damage in the house, and making sure the pipes in the home had proper fittings. You took your time cooking large decadent dishes to impress the Hewitt's, mashed potatoes, fried asparagus, a hefty salad, and some finely glazed roast chicken with grilled corn. This food was the kind to make family out of friends and you were so excited to share it; the chocolate cake you baked the night before was ready to be frosted with your own recipe for vanilla icing.

Once the food was packed away in some bags, you got changed into a black summer dress that had a flower pattern in red, you put on a pair of red flats, some makeup, and a spritz of expensive perfume. The walk to the Hewitt house lasts only about ten minutes but the bags of food started to weigh you down and make you wish you had taken the car. When you reach the driveway, you have to set the bags down and take a rest. As you catch your breath and shake out your arms, you hear heavy foot steps coming towards you, when you look up you see Tommy, he looked different, he looked… good.

Despite still wearing the dark leather half-mask, you were actually able to see a lot of his face due to his hair being oiled back slick. His heaving chest was pressing against his black T-shirt that hugged his torso and really showed just how thick with muscle he was. He had new looking jean pants that clung to his thighs and a belt buckle that shone in the evening sky. His shoes were especially interesting, he had on a freshly shined pair of black snake skin cowboy boots tucked under his jean cuffs. You could not believe how well this massive recluse cleans up, and while he was still extremely intimidating, his fresh appearance was so overwhelming that you couldn’t speak.

He walks right up to you but doesn’t look you in the eye, he just takes your bags and stands behind you waiting for you to start walking to the door. His height was unlike anything you have ever seen, your head reached the base of his pecs. You were blushing so much, you could feel your cheeks flush with heat, you say to him,

“T-thank you”

He holds the heavy bags like they were nothing, his hands are huge and rough, his exposed arms were thick with muscle but riddled with scars that made you curious. He doesn’t say a word as you both walk up to the front door where he then opens it for you and waits for you to enter. Luda is already at the entrance wearing a pretty tea length dress in pastel blue, with yellow birds, her hair is in a pinned up-do, she greets you,

“Evenin’! I see Thomas helped you with your things, what a good boy he is”

You smile “Yeah, I’m glad he came to help honestly. I didn’t realize how tough it was going to be walking here with those bags being so heavy, I should have driven down haha”

Luda Mae takes your hand and leads you inside saying “Well come on in! Let’s get this stuff to the table so we can all eat, I’m sure you’re hungry”

You get to the table which is set nicely, the dishes seem to all be bone china with flowery designs along the outer edges, the large table is rustic and humble, but cozy. Luda Mae calls everyone to the table and tells you to sit at the end of the table, Charlie who is wearing a worn dress shirt that is too big for him and a red bowtie, attempts to sit next to you but Luda Mae snaps at him,

“NOT THERE CHARLIE, THAT’S TOMMYS SEAT!”

Charlie sighs and gets up; he looks at you,

“Oh, I see how it is” he gives you a wink.

Tommy comes in last and stands in the doorway, Luda Mae calls over to him,

“Come Thomas, you take your seat right next to Y/N”

He glances at you from under his brow and goes and sits in the chair next you making sure he is not touching you. He is such a big man that he is still towering over you even while sitting. Luda Mae takes her seat and says,

“Now then, let’s all say grace. Charlie, if you’ll do the honors”

Charlie rolls his eyes and starts “Dear lord, bless this here food, even though it ain’t like what were used to, bless it anyway”

Luda Mae scoffs adding “And bless Y/N for makin’ the effort to make us a lovely dinner tonight. Were eternally grateful for you bringin’ us Tilly, who bought them cows and chickens for us so we may absolve our sinful ways, amen”

You were feeling a bit confused at what she meant by ‘sinful ways’ but they all said amen so you just ignored it. The dinner started and everyone began to dig in to the dishes you prepared. Tommy waited until you took some food for yourself and then he started grabbing some scoops of the food to load onto his plate, Luda Mae sees this and says,

“Thomas is a big boy; he needs a lot of food to keep himself strong. I apologize if he seems greedy” she gave a serious look at Tommy who slowly put the mashed potato spoon down.

You feel a tinge of sadness at Luda Mae scolding Tommy, you reply,

“Oh no please, let’s eat as much as we can tonight so I don’t have to bring so much home. I made more than enough; I think”

Tommy glances at you, Luda Mae says “Well alright then Tommy, go ahead then, just make sure everyone else gets some”

Charlie laughs “Tommy boy eats more than the damn hogs do, I swear there’s nothin’ left when he’s near food, gotta eat quick!”

Luda Mae whacks Charlie’s shoulder for him to shut up but he just laughs, you giggle at the playful nature of this family and you feel comfortable around them, you feel a closeness to people that you hadn’t felt since the last time you saw your best friend. You can’t help but make quick glances at Tommy to be able to drink in his appearance for your memory to retrieve when you need it. You felt the nerves in your stomach tightening causing a slight cramp, you had a massive crush on Tommy and it was time to admit it to yourself. Tommy ate his food at a decent pace, each bite was small enough to fit through the slit in his mask; you still didn’t understand why he wore it but you were too afraid to ask in case it was something he was sensitive about.

Luda Mae see’s you watching Tommy and she smiles,

“We all made sure to look nice for you tonight, it’s a special occasion to have a guest cooking us dinner, right Charlie?”

He just nods and scarfs down the food on his plate, Luda Mae gives him a stern look but he doesn’t react, she continues,

“Thomas doesn’t have many clothes that fit him given that he’s such a big strong boy, but we were able to find some nice clothes in storage. What do you think Y/N? Does he look handsome?”

Tommy widens his eyes and looks over quickly at Luda Mae, trying to avoid eye contact with you.

“I think he looks amazing” you blurted out without even thinking, you felt embarrassed for not saying something less abrupt, -Oh god they probably think I’m desperate or something, why didn’t I just say he looks nice!?- Luda Mae smiled even bigger and Tommy quickly looked back at you in shock that anyone other than his mother would say something positive about him, especially about how he looked. Luda Mae looks at you and gives a cheeky smirk saying,

“I know Thomas thinks you look very beautiful tonight, don’t you Thomas?”

Tommy looked at Luda Mae and then quickly looked back at you, he was so flustered and you noticed the top of his cheeks that weren’t hidden by the mask began to flush with a rosy pink. Luda Mae continued,

“Well Thomas? Don’t be rude to our guest, you tell her she looks nice!”

You felt bad for Tommy who was put on the spot by Luda Mae’s question, you wished so badly to hear the answer but Tommy just looked down at his plate with wide eyes and blushing cheeks. You smiled at the sight of such a large grown man reacting like an embarrassed teen, you could almost hear the squeal of protest ‘Mom! You’re embarrassing me!’. You giggled to yourself, this was the most fun you had had with people in ages, you were so lonely back in Rivers Manitoba that even the rare relationship you got into would fizzle out so quickly from them being abusive or losing interest. You felt safe with the Hewitts, even if the things Dover said to you were true about them, you didn’t care, you wanted to be part of a family, this family.

Eventually dinner finished and the cake was brought out by Luda Mae, she cut some large slices for everyone and when she took the first bite her eyes widened and she said,

“My, you’re an incredible cook Y/N. This is the best darn thing I have ever eaten since my mama’s banana cream pie”

Charlie took a bite and slammed the table, which startled you and made Tommy give him an angry look, he said,

“WHEW GIRLIE, THIS IS SINFUL!”

Tommy looked at his slice and took a small piece on his fork and bit into it, his eyes closed and he let out a deep breath through his nose as he leaned his head back allowing you to see just how thick his neck was. There was some stubble peeking through from under his mask and it made your heart flutter, this was a fully-grown, red-blooded man, and you had a flash of an intrusive thought fly through your mind of him leaning his head back from a different kind of pleasure; you shook your head and looked away, trying to suppress a smirk that was trying to creep its way onto your face. Luda Mae looks over at you and asks,

“Are you alright dear?”

You snap back into reality and reply “Yes, sorry I just got… dizzy, must be from all the good food”

Luda Mae is looking a bit concerned,

“Let me get you some more water sweetheart, maybe you are just hot”

You feel a sense of embarrassment at the passing thought you had, it was really unlike you to be so turned on by a man, but Tommy was no ordinary man and he was bringing out feelings in you that you never knew you had. Luda Mae comes back with some ice water and gently places a hand on your shoulder, and pours some water in the glass in front of you. This woman was so motherly to you, the month that went by just reinforced these feelings as every time you met up with her, she was always concerned with how you were doing and trying to get you to rest or talk about deep feelings, she was a large comfort to you.

The night finally concluded after so much laughter and conversation between you, Luda Mae, and Charlie. Tommy had gotten up after cake and left the table before the night was over which made you feel a bit anxious that he was uncomfortable but you had fun despite the anxiety. When you got your things and placed them back in the bags, you said goodnight to Charlie as Luda Mae walked you out saying,

“Don’t let Dover bug you anymore ok hun? He used to make Tilly so upset but eventually he left her alone once she got close with us, I reckon he will do the same with you once he realizes who you’re friendly with. If you feel scared walking back, have Thomas, take you, he is in the barn there”

You thank her and say goodbye, maybe getting Tommy to walk you back would be a good idea so Dover would stop popping out of bushes to tell you how stupid he thinks you are and how badly he wants you to leave. You make your way down to the barn and see Tommy sitting on a bale of hay staring out the open barn doors, the bright shine of the moon casting a silver light on him. You walk up to him and say,

“Hey, Thomas, would you please walk me back to my house? I don’t want to deal with Dover harassing me.”

You see him look over at you and he nods slowly, getting up and moving over to face you, his hand held out to signal you to give him your bags so he could carry them for you. He waited to let you walk in front of him but you didn’t move, you spoke,

“Can…I walk next to you?”

Tommy looked surprised but he nodded and followed next to you out of the barn, you both made your way to the road, he was making sure to keep your pace so he didn’t get ahead of you. The sky had thick dark clouds rolling through it but the moon held its bright glare, coating you both with a cold light, you looked up at Tommy who was remaining silent as he walked next to you, his brows were relaxed and his eyes fixed firmly on the road ahead of him. You felt so safe with him, he was like a large guard dog, keeping watch of your surroundings and staying close to you, ensuring that he keeps his pace in line with yours.

You smile, the fact that you were alone with him was exciting, you wish you were able to say something but you couldn’t find the words. Just as you were giving thought to something to say, he looks down at you and catches you smiling at him. He looks at you confused, why would anyone smile at the likes of him? His whole life he was ridiculed and made fun of for his appearance, a girl never gave him even a glance and the ones he liked screamed when he came near them. You were different, you were beautiful and kind, and you smiled at him, no screaming or running away, he felt good being around you, he felt safe with you, but this was a different kind of safe to the one you felt, this was trust.

You both got to your driveway and he walked you up to the door, setting your bags down, you turned to him and said,

“I really appreciate you walking me to my home Thomas, you’re a really nice man”

Tommy’s eyes met yours and he nodded, you went to pick up your bags but stopped when you saw him pointing at you,

“Yes?”

He continues to point at you, you try to look around if there’s a stain or bug but he just goes and reaches for the dress fabric on your shoulder and points at that, you smile and reply,

“Oh, my dress! You never told me if you liked it”

He nods and gives a thumbs up, you laugh and thank him. You grab your bag and make your way inside, turning to give him one last look and say,

“Goodnight Thomas, I hope we get to spend more time together soon”

You gently shut the door and Tommy turns to leave, his cheeks are warm and his eyes wide; You, a beautiful woman, want to spend time with a monster like him? The things he has done in the past for his family were evil, his past was stained forever with the blood of the many victims taken by his hands. He tried to push down his budding feelings because he knew deep down that an innocent angel like you would never accept his sins. The walk back to his home was full of mixed emotions, he was scared to get closer to you in case you find out about his past and react like the girls from his past would, screaming at him in horror and fear. He couldn’t help but have hope though, you were after all, different.

Next chapter-

[doctoruncle2013]

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