#grannys chandelier

[lokyemusic]

[minispidey]

01: Barbie's Dreamhouse.

Joel Miller x f!bimbo!reader. series masterlist. next part.

01. Flamingo Pink.

warnings: death of your granny, grumpy joel, hyperfeminine reader, uses (Y/N) once, bimbo has boobas and wears a skimpy outfit, suggestive. not beta read (english is not my first language).

summary: you run into some complications while you try to adjust to your new home, good thing a hot dilf was around.

2.2k words.

Joel was cautious in trusting people, but his perception changed when he met a nearby neighbor named Mags, a sweet old lady with shiny gray hair and a welcoming smile. It was just a simple job: fixing leaks, clearing out the clogs, and finishing with some freshly baked oatmeal cookies. Once every two weeks, he'd drop by to talk and catch up with her on his days off. She lived alone and barely had any company besides the pesky rabbits that visited her garden that he had to take care of.

When she told him that she wanted to paint her house pink, of course, Joel helped.

"Y'know, I have a granddaughter. She's the sweetest lil ol' thing, unlike her demon of a mother." she let out a sigh "I'm givin' her this oldie, so I might as well paint it her favorite color."

Mags chuckles, looking up at the dangling chandelier. Joel sets the roller down before wiping his sweat off his forehead with the towel around his neck "You must love er' a lot if you're gonna give her this beauty."

"Of course. If she visits and you happen to come by, I'll introduce you to her. You'll like her. She got her looks from me, don't cha know?" Mags reached out for her old wedding picture, scratching off the dried drops of paint.

"Well, I trust your word."

What Joel didn't expect was that two weeks later, men were pulling out her cold body with a stretcher. He remembered having sixteen cans of pink paint waiting at the back of his truck. And when he went home, he stored them inside a shed, untouched for months.

He quietly mourned his friend's death. No one else knew, not even his daughter.

A couple of months have passed since then. He watched the house practically as it grew abandoned, unfinished. Unwanted.

It wasn't until he saw a pink car parked in the driveway.

"Hi!" you smiled brightly as you handled the dead plants with your hands before throwing them into a trash bin. You slipped off the pink rubber glove and waved your hand around.

Joel looked behind him before back at you, his eyebrows raised.

"Yeah, you!" as you walked out from behind the fence and he just couldn't take his eyes off you. He scanned your appearance; you definitely weren't dressed appropriately for gardening with your gingham pink tank top with delicate lace trim, wedge flip flops, and white shorts, awfully short shorts. "I live here now!"

You seemed awfully cheery in inheriting a house where your grandma died.

"'Er... you Mags' granddaughter?" he walked closer to you and stopped on the pavement.

"Yeah!" you nodded. "I'm (Y/N). It's so nice to meet you."

Your smile practically blinded him. He shakes your perfectly manicured hand and nods "Joel Miller." he says. "I, uh... was your Granny's contractor."

"Really?" you beamed. "I'm basically picking up where you left off then."

If there was one word that described how he felt right now, it was probably "relief". He knew in the back of his head there was a small possibility of this happening, especially considering how he was never able to give Mags the satisfaction of seeing the house completed.

And now, her granddaughter was here to finish what he had started.

"I didn’t finish what I started. I was supposed to come back and start workin' on the kitchen. And then…"

You lowered your head and let out a sigh. "Yeah... I've always liked Granny's place, so it was nice of her to leave it in my name."

He saw your genuine love for your grandmother and couldn't help but smile. "So, whatcha got there?" he pointed to the plants being thrown out.

"Oh! They're dead." "I can see that."

You smiled and let out a laugh "I'm just gonna plant some seed to grow a couple flowers. The garden is a wreck, the pond has..." you shivered. "Frogs swimming..."

"Frogs?" Joel raised one brow up and looked at the gate of the garden.

"It's the reason why I took so long to move in! Besides the fact, my mom kicked me out. She needs to calm down..."

"So I've heard." he chuckled. "How about I help you with the frogs? It's the least I could do if you're gonna pick up where I left off with the pipes and all."

"Speaking of pipes!" you looked up to him. "I don't think my water is working. Do you think it was disconnected?"

Joel stared at you before clearing his throat. "Well, I'll go check in the back." he walked up to the garden gate and swung it open, revealing the wilted flowers and dead leaves passing by the frog-infested pond.

Meanwhile, you put on your gardening gloves back on, and your ears perked up at the sound of running water and some metal clanking. "Joel?" you called out. You let out a squeal as the gardening hose blasted you with dark water til' it was clear. You kicked the hose away into a pile of dirt, and you sighed.

You wiped your face and stood there wet and dirty. "Joel!" you felt like crying, but your eyes widened as water gushed out the front door. "Oh no..."

After hearing your call, Joel walks back to the front to see you soaking wet and water continuing to flood out of the house. "I think the pipes busted. You alright?" he placed a hand on your shoulder as you shook your head no.

"The water wasn't working this morning... I tried to fix it..." you confessed.

He looked at you, taking note of that detail. It was clear that you had a genuine passion for the renovations, but he couldn't help but find your ignorance concerning. You wouldn't be able to finish something like this on your own without proper help. Not because you weren’t capable, but because you just didn’t know these things.

He sighed and wiped his hands on his pants as he asked, "Do you know how to shut off the water?"

"Oh, um..." you fiddled with your fingers before shaking your head no.

He sighed, shaking his head. This was definitely not going to be an easy restoration. Clearly, you didn't have a whole lot of experience in things like this.

"The water shutoff should be at the side of the house. I can show you." he gestured out to the garden gate. You squirmed a bit at the sight of the frogs while the two of you walked to the shutoff.

"Here it is," he said, pointing to the large pipe with a handle on it. "All you gotta do is twist the handle to the left a few times. Should be a small, stiff movement."

You nodded in understanding. "Okay."

"It'll turn off the water to the whole house." Joel glanced towards you. "I don’t mean to sound rude, but is there any other sort of damage you may not know about? Like electrical issues or anything like that?"

"The electric box?" you blinked twice. "I tried to look at it but I panicked when I saw a dead frog inside..."

He laughed and shrugged. It didn’t take him by surprise. Of course, you'd panic. You were a soft person at heart, and obviously one who wasn’t used to getting under the hood with this stuff.

"I could do a quick check of it if you have any concerns. I might be able to do it quicker than you could if that’s alright."

Joel led you to the garage where it was located and opened it up before pushing the tiny fried frog out of the way with a twig "I'll toss that away later." he paused, looking back at you. "So, do you know how to shut off the main switch?"

"Oh, the blue one on top?"

"Good girl."

You two walked back to the front, and the water stopped already, only a few droplets off the edge of the porch. "Thank you, Joel. You're a lifesaver."

"It's alright. Don't worry about it." he said softly. He knew you’d be able to handle the water shutoff, but he wanted to make sure you were still competent enough to complete the renovations yourself. "If you want, I can walk you around the house and give you a list of what still needs to get done."

"Really? I'd appreciate it!"

"Alright. You can follow me around…" Joel walked you inside and began taking you around, listing off the various issues with the house and its needs. It was quite a lot, ranging from painting to plumbing to electrical and structural. He also pointed out spots where you'd likely need to hire a professional— like if a pipe broke or if you needed to replace a roof beam.

When he was done, it made you realize just how intensive the project would be. "Gosh... that's a lot..."

Joel chuckled a little bit as he nodded. "Yeah, it is. Unfortunately, the issues with your grandmother's house go well beyond a simple paint job and replacing some carpets. It’s definitely going to be a big project."

"Crud... oh, crud..." you whispered. "I-I don't have a lot of money to repair it... I only have ten thousand as of now and I got fired..."

Joel felt a pit in his stomach and felt bad in that moment. He had felt so confident in your ability to manage the house that he totally overlooked the fact you weren't exactly flush with cash.

"Wait. How were you going to do the repairs then?"

"I thought I could do it myself and just save up for the materials after I got a job..."

He crossed his arms against his chest and looked at you up and down, still a bit damp from the earlier hose incident. "So you, a woman who appears to be in her early twenties and— I mean… I’m not trying to be rude, but from what I can tell here, someone with little to no experience in things like this, was going to do the majority of repairs on a three-story house on her own?"

"I know it sounds bad," you explained. "But I quite literally cannot afford to have someone else do them."

"And you expected to afford the materials?" Joel asked flatly, trying not to seem harsh. He understood what you meant. You had no money to hire a proper contractor, but also no money to buy necessary materials such as paint and beams. The reality of it was brutal to think about.

"I'm sure I can manage... I think..."

He was stunned at your insistence. You really thought you could do all this alone? Did you not understand the scope of how huge this project was?

"My mom objected to Granny's will which said she was leaving me a ton of money, but until that case is settled, I'm not getting any... maybe I could wait a couple of months..."

"And you'll live here until you get the money? What if you don't? You can't do all of this stuff alone," he said flatly. "A lot of it requires proper equipment that is far too expensive for you to simply buy yourself…"

"Then what do you want me to do?"

"I'll help you."

You paused, looking at him "Really?"

"Really."

"But I don't have anything to pay you..."

Joel paused. He couldn't really say no to you, considering your grandmother had wanted this house to get fixed up for you.

So he finally just shrugged.

"Don't worry about it. Just make sure you keep on saving as much money as possible and try to get a job as soon as humanly possible. That’s all I ask."

You practically pounced on him with a hug. "Thank you!"

He stumbled for a moment, having been taken aback by your abrupt approach. For a while, he just looked around awkwardly, unsure of what to do.

But eventually, he gave in and hesitantly hugged back. He had never been much of a hugger (especially to strangers) but he couldn’t be upset with a girl as beautiful as you. He trusted you.

You looked up at him with a wide smile. "When do you think you can start?"

Joel paused, trying to put some thought into a good time to start.

"Well… considering my previous workload, there shouldn’t be too much to catch up on. So, we could probably start as soon as tomorrow. I've got most of the materials, though, so just let me know where you want me to start and I'll get at it."

"Thank you, Joel. Seriously." you buried your head into his chest. "You are amazing..."

He gave you a little side smile. "It’s no problem at all, honestly. It'll honestly make me feel a lot better not having this place just sit here and collect dust… and mold…" he chuckled at that last bit.

"If there's anything, absolutely anything I can do for you... don't hesitate to ask me..." you raised your head again and looked directly into his eyes. "I'll do anything you want..."

tags: @danaispunk @buckybarnessweetheart @skysmiller @joelsflannel @sweetenerobert @clownd1ck @jhiddles03 @schwytie @femmeanonymelives @redemie

(tags are open! just reply to be added)

[alt-zombee]

Workin' on the weekend like usual Way off in the deep end like usual Niggas swear they passed us, they doin' too much Haven't done my taxes, I'm too turnt up Virgil got a Patek on my wrist going nuts Niggas caught me slipping once, okay, so what? Someone hit your block up, I'd tell you if it was us Manor house in Rosewood, this shit too plush

Say my days are numbered, but I keep wakin' up Know you see my texts, baby, please say somethin' Wine by the glass, your man a cheapskate, huh? Niggas gotta move off my release day, huh? Bitch, this is fame, not clout I don't even know what that's about, watch your mouth Baby got a ego twice the size of the crib I can never tell her shit, it is what it is Said what I had to and did what I did Never turn my back on FBG, God forbid Virgil got the Patek on my wrist doing front flips Giving you my number, but don't hit me on no dumb shit

Workin' on the weekend like usual Way off in the deep end like usual (like usual) Niggas swear they passed us, they doin' too much Haven't done my taxes, I'm too turnt up Virgil got a Patek on my wrist going nuts Niggas caught me slipping once, okay, so what? Someone hit your block up, I'd tell you if it was us Manor house in Rosewood, this shit too plush

It's cool, man, got red bottoms on Life is good, you know what I mean? Like

Uh, hunnid thousand for the cheapest ring On a nigga finger, lil' bitch, woo I done flew one out to Spain to be in my domain And Audemars'd the bitch, woo Dropped three dollars on a ring Call it Bentley truck, lil' bitch, woo I was in the trap serving cocaine I ain't been the same since, woo

Granny, she was standing right there While I catch a play on a brick, woo I make them lil' niggas go haywire Taliban in this bitch, woo I done been down bad in them trenches Had to ride with that stick, woo Who gave you pills? Who gave you that dust? Pluto sent you on a lick, woo Too many convicts They enrolled me to play in this shit, woo I'm tryna avoid nonsense Get Osama sprayed in this bitch, woo They had the candlelight, lighting it up Nigga, anybody could get it, woo I'm on a PJ lighting it up Backwood full of sticky, woo I'm tryna tote that Draco in London And it's an extended, woo They gotta stretch a nigga out We gon' die for this shit, woo Yeah, I ride for my niggas I lie to my bitch, woo We some poor, high-class niggas Made it, we rich, yeah I was at the bando Got a penthouse for a closet, woo It's like a chandelier On my neck, my wrist, woo I got pink toes They talk different languages, woo Got Promethazine in my blood and Percocet

Yeah, hunnid thousand for the cheapest ring On a nigga finger, lil' bitch, woo I done flew one out to Spain to be in my domain And Audemars'd the bitch, woo Dropped three dollars on a ring Call it Bentley truck, lil' bitch, woo I was in the trap serving cocaine I ain't been the same since

Racks by the ton I call up Serena I go tremendo for new fettuccini All fact though, clarity pinky All fact though, we order up the Fiji I'm in the loop with the voo I'm in the loop with the woo Which one of you working? I put your face on the news I put the pussy on the shirt After I murk, then make 'em go shoot up the hearse Cost me a quarter bird Nigga it's worth it, and you a maniac A fucking alien, how you splurgin'? Got that kitty cat, I'm having fun with that Goin' Birkin

Yeah, hunnid thousand for the cheapest ring On a nigga finger, lil' bitch, woo I done flew one out to Spain to be in my domain And Audemars'd the bitch, woo Dropped three dollars on a ring Call it Bentley truck, lil' bitch, woo I was in the trap serving cocaine I ain't been the same since

[erinaaustralia]

Tranquil Ambience & Manicured Grounds

[writerwithnocauseblog]

undefined

My favorite part of Crazy Rich Asians was the wedding scene where Kina Grannis sings.

I'd never heard of her but I loved her voice so I reacted to a few of her covers!

Here's part 1 of my First Listen to Kina Grannis

[incorrectbatfam]

Things that would happen at Bruce and Selina’s wedding (everything gone right, wrong, and just plain funny)

They took their pre-wedding photos on top of a skyscraper with Tim as their photographer, but when he backed up to get a wider shot he fell over the railing and Dick had to grapple down and catch him while wearing a tuxedo

Steph collaborated with the cake decorators to go all out, including Bruce and Selina's while journey drawn in frosting and sparklers on top... in Spoiler colors

Damian and Jon were playing hide-and-seek with Billy Batson and Lucy Quinn during the reception and no one could find the boys, so a mass search with vigilantes and police officers alike ensued. It took an hour, but finally they were found when the theater called Bruce to let him know they tried to sneak into an R-rated movie

Bruce showed up to the wrong venue

While trying to get some one-on-one time at the bachelorette party, Harley and Ivy locked themselves in a hotel supply closet and the only person with the tools to get them out was the stripper firefighter with a pink crowbar

Dinah caught the bouquet and immediately threw it to Kate saying, "I'm already married!"

When repeating his vows, Bruce accidentally said, "I, Clark Kent"

Also during the vows, Clark's phone went off playing Cotton-Eye Joe and Bruce just slowly clapped and said, "My best man, everyone"

One more vow mishap: Roy tried to start the wave

Dick ripped his pants doing a somersault from the chandelier

Bud chewed up Holly Robinson's shoes and she had to wear flip-flops

Damian adopted a coyote puppy he found digging through the trash

The Flash family drove to the wrong Gotham

Duke sneezed before the "I do," accidentally elbowing the fire alarm

Jason slowly switched seats throughout the wedding so he could sit next to Diana

At the rehearsal, Cass was holding one of the clip-on mics that the officiant used and brought it with her to the bathroom, where everyone could hear her do her business

Bruce invited some of his coworkers, forgot he invited them, and then asked "What are you guys doing here?" when they showed up

Lian was the flower girl but instead of flower petals, she mistakenly threw the rice that was supposed to be for the end

Babs requested a song before the reception started and the DJ put it at the top of the list, accidentally replacing the song Bruce and Selina were supposed to dance to

Without telling anyone, Jason decided to start a new tradition of firing blanks while the bride and groom kissed

Young Justice got a whole tier of the cake to themselves

Harper's wedding speech started with "Bruce might've been in his emo phase since he was eight, he might've dropped out of med school, and he might not know how to crack an egg..."

The party bus Clark rented for the bachelor party caught on fire on the side of the highway

Alfred downed 7 glasses of champagne and loudly confessed that he never thought Bruce would get married

Hal's still bitter that he couldn't convince Bruce to wear the Batman cowl

They waited until an hour before the wedding to teach Duke how to tie a tie

Lucius and Luke got balcony seats so they could see everything. They were the only ones up there and Bruce kept looking at them during the ceremony

Carrie put a bath bomb in the decorative fountain

Nobody knows what happened to the cheese plate. Nobody except Cullen

Steph did the electric slide right into the speakers

Comm. Gordon had to leave in the middle to arrest the Joker

Babs accidentally wore Alfred's socks

Selina thought it'd be funny to wear a pair of granny panties around her thigh instead of a garter

To kick off the reception, Bruce held up a piece of bread and said, "I'd like to make a toast"

[lokyemusic]

[simthia]

Cute little House

@rubyred-sims-cc vintage bathroom set, wedding store set, country living wardrobe

@sundays-sims shabby chic bedroom set

@kerriganhouse pastoral set, four sided latern

@cowbuild french country dinning set

@sims-kkb molding panels, the classic fridge

@leo-sims-cc Elle cabinets, cape kitchen sink, Elle counters, clutter, granny end table, farmhouse hutch

@hiuhiusim florest cottage

@aggressivekitty cottage living set

@pixelvibes vintage lamp, vintage cook stove, laundry room rack

@sims4luxury kitchen island, bathroom mirror

@yumia-x antique chandelier, antique bar stool

@pinkbox-anye harvest chandelier, farmhouse dish rack, advent calendar deer hook

@mincts4 eco door, casa door, clarity window, moderato door

@daon-simslife vintage Chevy chic tv

[noirandchocolate]

‘Feeling angry?’ said Granny.

‘Yes!’

‘I should let it out then, if I was you,’ said Nanny.

Agnes shut her eyes, clenched her fists, opened her mouth and screamed.

It started low.  Plaster dust drifted down from the ceiling.  The prisms on the chandelier chimed gently as they shook.

It rose, passing quickly through the mysterious pitch at fourteen cycles a second where the human spirit begins to feel distinctly uncomfortable about the universe and the place in it of the bowels.  Small items around the Opera House vibrated off shelves and smashed on the floor.

The note climbed, rang like a bell, climbed again.  In the pit, all the violin strings snapped, one by one.

As the tone rose, the crystal prisms shook in the chandelier.  Int he bar, champagne corks fired a salvo.  Ice jingled and shattered in its bucket.  A line of wineglasses joined in the chorus, blurred around the rims, and then exploded like hazardous thistledown with attitude.

There were harmonic and echoes that caused strange effects.  In the dressing rooms the No. 3 greasepaint melted.  Mirrors cracked, filling the ballet school with a million fractured images.

Dust rose, insects fell.  In the stones of the Opera House tiny particles of quartz danced briefly...

Then there was silence, broken by the occasional thud and tinkle.

--Terry Pratchett, “Maskerade”

(And THIS, my friends, is why in “The Shepherd’s Crown” Agnes had to leave after the funeral and did not participate in the final fight against the elves.  She would have been way, way too OP.)

[cosmo112]

My obsessive House Mates are dead?!

TW: drinking, wine, ghosts,

2/??

You woke up and hissed feeling light headed and you looked up and sighed.  You grabbed the latter careful to wake[?] Wilbur. You studied the markings on the chandelier and hummed getting the message. 

You preferred this code due to it being a more real one compared to the others, it was hieroglyphics. 

“Look under the cabinet and leave a glass of expensive Wine. He likes it better.” 

You sighed and was tempted to just leave the ghosts be. But you preferred if you could see them being perverted when you changed and shooed them away. 

You ran to the store. Wilbur Pouted and sat on the porch as you returned with the most expensive wine that you could stand so you can drink the rest of the ghost didn’t. 

You poured two glasses and offered one to Wilbur, causing you to pour Three. You set one under the counter thankful the corpse was already cleaned up. Why would your Granny want you to see all these ghosts? 

Then it hit you. She didn’t know there would be ghosts. She wanted you to be a hero for finding the bodies and get money for finding the missing people. You sighed and sat at the table. Totally bummed at the fact that your granny threw away her life for you. 

But Grandpa always believed in ghosts? Maybe that’s the reason why? He always said “haha since you dislike the living maybe the dead will do ya one bucko.” You always thought it was some weirdo comment. But now you have to babysit a Bi-Polar baby man ghost. 

You walked back to your room finishing your glass and washing it and setting it on the drying counter. You twirled suddenly into the middle of the kitchen and almost passed out meeting the very scarred and less translucent then Wilbur, face. 

“What happens to hi! Hello! How are you!” You yelled struggling to stand as Wilbur pulled you into his chest. “This isn’t better.” You mumbled as you wiggles out. “Hi! Hello!! Yes I summoned you I think? Wine is in the Wine cooler have at it I’m going BACK to bed. I’m y/n don’t call me if you need something just get it.” 

You hissed and walked away and feeling The air freeze and Lights flicker. You shuffled back into the kitchen. “QUIT FIGHTING! I don’t need to learn what means what yet.” 

You took in the other ghost, not only his Face, he had a beanie and golden wings with a hoodie and sweat pants. “Alright! Alright whatever human I’m Quackity. A much older and BETTER spirit then Wil here because I died first.” 

You gave him a thumbs up and rolled your eyes and walked back into your room getting ready to fall back asleep. 

LAST ONE. . . Yep 100% no more ghosts in this house! 

Then you felt a cold shiver down your spine. Gosh dammit.

[hometoursandotherstuff]

A little yellow cottage, just 22 sq. meters, (236.8 sq. ft.), is decorated in a sweet granny style and even sleeps two. 

Bright dining corner. The round table doesn’t take up much space, and the chandelier creates an atmosphere like a larger dining room.

The owner’s favorite place is an old rocking chair that once belonged to her aunt. Ikea's display cabinet is perfect to accompany it.

A wooden bench rounded by time. There is storage space under the bench for magazines and other items. The curtains are sewn from vintage fabric and lace-decorated sheets.

Next to the dining table is a hostess cabinet built by the owner’s father. 

The kitchen consists of an Ikea side table and a wood stove.

Although there are no traditional cabinets in the kitchen, the walls are still utilized for storage. The wooden shelf and the widening of the wall molding can hold a lot of small items.

The living room when viewed from the door. The rocking chair corner is on the left. The Ikea sofa bed opens to a couple’s bed in the evening.

There is a gazebo in the yard, and it is also used in winter. They enjoy warm cocoa even during the snow. 

Sleek metal furniture is suitable for a small space. Cushioning and warmth are provided by chair pillows and fleece blankets. The windows have inconspicuous Plexiglas to prevent snow from entering.

https://www.meillakotona.fi/artikkelit/kodikas-tilaihme-22-nelion-mokki-hurmaa-tyylillaan

[motherkatereloyshipper]

A silly little bit I wrote for the birthday of Mr Bernard Curry.

https://open.spotify.com/playlist/0Kquwgj4ts7gPzMSEm2t0V?si=6b4745b20d934d47

Liam Jones was a sailor, a practical man, an officer, he was not a dancer, oh he knew all the steps, but he had no grace.

His little brother, his darling lieutenant, he could dance with the best of them, and since Zeus had sent them both to Storybrooke, back to Killian’s lady love, Killian had been attempting to teach Emma to dance, ready for the grand ball her mother had planned for the official announcement of their engagement.

"Listen, Love, as much as I'd love to monopolise your dance card, this is an affair more political than her Majesty would like to pretend and that means you need to be able to dance with more than just me, now Dave will be along later but until then, please, let Liam take you around this gavotte."

Liam smiled and offered his hand to his soon-to-be sister-in-law as the music began again, "left foot back and step and turn out…"

"OW!" Emma exclaimed holding on to her armpit, "Jesus Liam, I like my arm where it is, you don't have to pull it off."

Liam winced, "sorry Emma, it's been a while and you're such a tiny thing, I mean that's great obviously as Killian’s hardly towering but…" Liam slammed his mouth shut, realising he was rambling.

Killian laughed and replaced Liam in the square, pressing a warm kiss to Emma's aggrieved shoulder. "We can try again when the Arrendelle cohort arrives, I'd imagine they have been to a ball more recently than Liam, maybe Kristoff would be less likely to 'disarm' my fiance".

—-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Liam popped into Granny’s as Killian and Emma went to fetch their guests, to grab a tray of refreshments, he sat at the counter and pondered, well he was honest enough with himself to admit that he sat at the counter and sulked.

Granny gave him her best grin, “Buck up lad, there’s always a reason to smile.”

David pulled up the stool next to him. “Liam! How are you settling in? How are the renovations?”

Liam gave a lopsided grin, “it feels a bit odd living in my little brother’s house, but the basement is a lot less disturbing now, I’m sure I will find my place eventually, I am just glad for the chance to be here. Are you and your lady wife ready for the ball?”

David smiled broadly, “All in Snow’s remit, I’ll just turn up and try not to step on anyone's feet. Are you looking forward to it? It must have been some time since you danced.”

Liam laughed wryly, “not much dancing in purgatory. I am looking forward to seeing my brother happy and settled.”

“And you?” David asked with a shrewd eyebrow. “Are you happy and settled?”

Liam took a deep breath, “I am content to be able to share in my brother’s happiness, I have yet to ascertain for what reason Zeus sent me back though.”

David clapped a hand on his shoulder, “I’m sure you’ll find it. C’mon, let’s get these up to the hall.” David grinned as Granny dropped off a tray of takeout cups and another of pastries.

—------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The hall was starting to look lovely, swathes of fabric covered the utilitarian walls, the basketball court lines had been removed from the floor and the utilitarian plastic chairs had been cleared away, Emma appeared to be giggling with another blonde woman as their magic wove some kind of floating chandelier complete with shimmering icicles, Liam and David put the refreshments on the stage area at the front of the room and they smiled indulgently until a large blond man embraced the prince and, having been briefly introduced as the aforementioned Kristoff, had dragged David away to where a redhead was sat with an ankle propped on another chair.

Liam walked across to where Killian was perched, smiling happily at Emma and her friend, he carried across their coffees, “What’s next little brother, are we taking another turn at the gavotte?”

Killian took the coffee with a mock scowl, “younger, and we’ll be trying a two-step, it’s a mite newer, but will let the ladies show their frocks off, Henry showed me on the youtubes when we were researching, he is hoping his miss Violet will want to take a turn.”

Liam smiled at his brother’s fond words about the boy he was coming to see as a nephew, he turned back toward the women who appeared to be working on some kind of sculpture now and met with the most astonishingly blue eyes, Liam opened his mouth, and closed his mouth, and opened it again, “who... who?”

Killian laughed shortly and stood, “Liam, my dear brother, may I introduce you to Queen Elsa of Arendelle? Elsa, my elder brother, Captain Liam Jones.”

Liam launched himself into a formal bow, tucking his arm at his waist, forgetting the full coffee cup he was holding and tipping hot coffee all over his khakis, “Bollocks!”

Liam looked up to see the ravishing queen almost doubled over in laughter, holding on to Emma to stay upright, her hand covering irrepressible dimples as those sparkling eyes took in every moment of his mishap. “A most singular introduction. A pleasure to make your acquaintance Captain Jones.”

Emma waved her hand, cleaning the splashed coffee up, then plugged her phone back into the sound system and pointed, “as hilarious as that was, I don’t wanna fall on my ass in front of the king of fairyland or whatever, Killian, the triangle makes the music go.”

Killian grasped Emma’s hand, “if we demonstrate and then you follow, and then we can trade partners?”

Emma and Killian twirled almost effortlessly, lost in each other and the music, Liam leaned across with a self-effacing smirk, “I apologise in advance your Majesty, I am not nearly as graceful a dancer as my brother, although I am not normally quite clumsy enough to cover my feet in coffee either.”

Elsa tittered, please call me Elsa, Captain Jones, my title doesn’t mean much here.”

Liam nodded, “I’m honoured Elsa, to be fair, neither does mine, perhaps to avoid confusion, perhaps you would do me the honour of calling me, Liam?”

Elsa smiled, flashing another lethal dimple, “the honour is mine, Liam.”

Liam held out his hand and they began the simple stepping forward and back motions, before taking hands and executing a passably elegant spin, “Another four turns brother? Then we’ll have danced the room and can trade?”

The next turn was executed with a touch more elegance, Elsa flourishing her train, “You don’t seem bad at this to me.” Elsa whispered softly, a touch too close to his ear.

At the third turn, Liam added a slight lift, bringing Elsa down just behind the beat so they had to scurry to catch up, smiling softly into each other's eyes, by the fourth turn there was barely a breath between their bodies and Liam found the handoff immensely difficult.

Emma grinned, “So… Elsa huh?”

Liam executed the forward steps with passing elegance, his mouth pressed into a firm line, at the turn he found himself confiding, “I’d not dare Emma, she’s a queen.”

Emma laughed, “you remember I’m technically a princess right?”

“There’s no ‘technically’ about it Emma,” he sighed, “you’re a princess, we are practising this dance because your lady mother is a queen and you are having an engagement ball, the only reason this ball isn’t at your parent's castle is the cost of transport.”

Emma laughed, “And I’ll remind you that you once told me I wasn’t good enough for your brother.”

Liam led Emma through the second turn, “You know that was nonsense Emma, I was an arse and I am sorry. You and Killian have the word of the gods and true love on your side. I’m an unemployed ships captain.”

Emma shook her head, “Arendelle has a navy Liam and a very lonely queen who I love like a sister. Just sayin’.”

By the third turn Snow and David had joined the floor and Liam had to bite his lip realising that there would be at least five more turns before Elsa was in his arms again.

On the fourth Emma grinned, “I’ll make sure you get to take her around again, be brave, don’t let rank to you who you are or who you get to be with ok?”

The handoff left Liam leading the wrong queen around the square, “Your Majesty, he nodded trying to keep the steps even.

“Captain Jones, thank you for taking me through the steps, you’re pretty good at this.” Snow grinned flashing her contagious smile.

Liam smiled back, leading the tiny queen through a respectfully distanced and steady turn, “thank you, your Majesty, my brother is by far the better dancer though, I am utilitarian at best.”

Snow patted his shoulder as they made the second turn, “utility, that reminds me, would you be able to take the Jolly and give a few of our guest's safe passage home? Emma would never forgive me if I send Killian off to miss out on the minutia of wedding planning and I believe you may be slightly better suited to captaining for our noble guests.”

Liam nodded, “I’ll need to liaise with Killian of course, he has taken more uncrewed voyages with the Jewel, sorry, the Jolly, than I have, but I cannot see why not,” Liam’s eyes lingered on Elsa who was currently in Killian’s arms, smiling, but not pressing herself close the way she had with him.

Snow followed his gaze, “if it is of interest, Arrendelle would likely be the last stop.”

Liam flushed slightly, “Just so your majesty, just so.”

Snow called out, “Charming, hold on to our daughter for another set, I need to talk to Killian.”

David grinned and nodded, twirling Emma like a ballerina on the fourth turn, clearly having far too much fun finally dancing with his daughter, at the handoff Killian smoothly plucked Snow from his arms and once again Elsa was right there, the scent of juniper in her long blonde hair and her hands slightly chilled, “Hullo.” he said softly.

Elsa’s smile left him almost snow blind, he gently rubbed at her cold hands, “Hello again. Oh, you’re so warm, that’s lovely.”

Liam’s answering smile was just as bright, “Happy to be of service your… Elsa. So, do you think we have mastered this?”

Elsa buried her face into the crook of Liam’s neck at the second turn, tucked right in she chirped, “I think we move quite well together Liam.”

“I think you may be correct Elsa.” Liam responded, pressing her in tighter to his chest as he ‘accidentally’ danced another turn instead of half of their quick double steps, relishing the closeness.

Elsa laughed as they quickly executed their remaining steps before launching into another turn exemplified only by how closely together they managed to enmesh their bodies, “you know, I think this dance might be considered quite shocking in Arrendelle Liam.”

Liam smirked, “Well then Elsa, I think we should introduce it when I sail you home after the ball, a good shock is food for the soul wouldn’t you say?”

“As you say,” Elsa whispered before pressing her lips against his as they lost themselves turning to the music.

[thepastisalreadywritten]

How Burnand landed the gig of the century

On 20 April 2011, Kensington Palace announced in a statement that Prince William and Catherine Middleton had chosen Hugo Burnand to be their official wedding photographer.

For some, it was an obvious decision. Burnand was well-known in London circles, having been Tatler Magazine’s society photographer for more 20 years.

He was also already well-versed in royal weddings, having served as the official photographer at Prince Charles and Camilla's nuptials in 2005.

But he almost said no to that royal wedding.

He had been traveling in South America with his family for six months when one night, everything they owned was stolen, including his camera equipment.

He managed to get internet access the next day, and “bizarrely there was an email from Camilla Parker Bowles saying that she had a big date coming up in April, and she wanted to know if I’d be available to take some photos.”

Of course, it was too big an opportunity to turn down, and Burnand cut his family’s travels short to make the celebration.

“I thought it be a shame to miss out on photographing the future king of England’s wedding and the future, future king of England who would be there too,” he says.

It was that job that eventually led to Burnand's relationship with Prince William.

Following Charles's wedding, the Prince of Wales started asking Burnand to take pictures of his sons.

“I was [at Kensington Palace] relatively often for various things,” he says.

When William and Catherine announced their engagement, he was naturally in the running.

“I said, ‘Am I on for it?’ and they said, ‘Ooh, there’s a few people.’

Well, actually, apparently, there was never any question. They just liked to keep me guessing.”

What it was like planning for the wedding

Burnand and his team had limited time to plan their part in one of the biggest weddings of the century.

“We had three weeks of serious pre-production organization and then three days right before the wedding when we set ourselves up at Buckingham Palace inside the Throne Room—it became our home,” he says.

The Throne Room was where Burnand and his team were to take those important historical portraits.

“We wanted it to look like a spring day and, of course, no one knew if it would actually be a spring day so we lit it through the windows so it would, regardless,” he says.

In general, lighting the room proved to be their biggest challenge.

“The silk damask on the palace walls sucks in all the light,” he explains. So, the team used a “Chinese lantern up on the ceiling which was higher than the chandeliers to give a gentle light, to stop it looking artificial.”

They had to bring in a huge amount of equipment as well.

“I don’t carry the equipment to light a Throne Room on a daily basis," he says. "And we had spares for everything and then spares for the spares."

The prep also involved meticulous time-keeping.

“We did dress rehearsals with stopwatches using endless staff from Buckingham Palace to fill in as family members, so we knew we had just enough time," Burnand explains.

"The Fly Past was at 1:30 p.m. and we couldn’t over run, even by a minute.”

The portraits themselves were also thoroughly planned in a “specific schedule.”

Burnand says he and Catherine, who is an amateur photographer herself, had lengthy discussions about how they both wanted to create unique pictures.

“We decided not to photograph any of the portraits up against the wall because the architecture of the room was so amazing,” he says.

“There was one picture I really wanted to take, but we were only allowed to take this picture if we had achieved everything else.”

The big day and the photo that almost didn't happen

After an enormous amount of planning, April 29 finally arrived.

Just after sunrise, the streets surrounding Westminster Abbey and Buckingham Palace were already bustling with millions of well-wishes, each hoping to catch a glimpse of William and Catherine's special day. So, was Burnand nervous?

“We were so prepared, it was very exciting to be that prepared. I don’t think I have ever been that prepared in all my life," he says.

"The extraordinary thing is, if you really do have everything in place—you have practiced a bulb exploding and how quickly you can change it.

You’ve practiced the lens freezing. The camera freezing and how to coax a child away from hiding behind a curtain.

Our preparation was so tip-top that all we really wanted was for it to happen, we were like ‘come on, test us, test us,’ so it wasn’t scary, it was incredibly exciting.”

With such a short amount of time to get those key shots, Burnand had a few tricks up his sleeve to make sure the wedding party were at ease.

“It was important for me to have female influence on my team otherwise it becomes a bit school-like with lots of men standing there in their morning coats.

It can feel threatening, perhaps not to the older generations but to the younger ones. My mom [photographer Ursy Burnand] was the hands-on granny and helped me with the children and there were jelly beans, lots of jelly beans.”

Burnand filled an enormous bowl of the candy and a bowl of what he calls "healthy snacks."

"I told them all that they would get jelly beans if they were good. Bribery is good—but you can’t give in to bribery if they haven’t done their job," he says.

“By the end of the shoot, there were hardly any jelly beans—it wasn’t just the children who were eating them.”

It turns out nobody wanted the healthy treats.

“They were all that was left.”

Burnand adds:

“We finished with three minutes to spare, so I asked Catherine if we could do the shot we had talked about previously.

And she turned to William and said, ‘What do you think?’ And he said, ‘Let’s go for it.’

So in three minutes, she sat down on the steps, Sarah Burton put the dress out perfectly, Prince William leant in, the children basically did what they felt was the right thing to do.”

“That was a very spontaneous picture. That little detail there [points to Catherine’s hand touching William’s knee] and William leaning in there, all these things were not directed, but a result of a good relationship with everyone.”

It was Burnand's favorite portrait from the day.

When he and his team were leaving the palace, they walked past a Winterhalter painting of Queen Victoria, Prince Albert and their children.

"I don’t know whether I had seen it before or not, but it’s quite similar to the shot of Catherine and William sitting down, the colors, the positions," he says.

"Subliminally, I think I may have been referencing that, but I didn’t have it in front of me, I hadn’t seen it recently.

And yet, it managed to influence my shot. That was the first time I felt very emotional, like 'Wow, we’ve really done something.'"

But there's one aspect of the day Burnand can't quite remember.

"We were standing in the room behind the balcony, looking down the Mall, and it was incredible to see that image of so many people.

I was standing there with my assistant and I said, 'we have to pinch our arms so never forget this moment,'" the photographer recollects.

"So we both pinched our arms and then about two days later I said, 'Do you remember being behind the curtain?' and he said, 'Yes.'

I said, 'Can you remember what we saw?' He said, 'no.' [laughs]

I can only remember pinching myself too. I have no recollection of what the Mall looked like, but I do remember the pinching."

Source: Town & Country

[stories-by-rie]

Chapter 3 - Heart of Silver

Back in the present, Evelyn and Ariel search the house of the dead granny in order to find clues on how to stop the heart of silver curse.

words: 3614 || masterlist

Evelyn pulled in on the house’s driveway. Now that she knew that no one was living there anymore, she couldn’t deny the ghostly aura that hung on it. The windows were dirty, the geraniums in the windows dead and brown. The driveway was growing weeds all over, so unlike the tidy places of most older people. Even the magnolia tree looked glum now.

    “The whole house feels like death,” Ariel mumbled as they walked closer. “Must have been a pretty rich lady, though. Didn’t you say she didn’t have any money?”

    “It’s an old woman. She owned the house and couldn’t bear to separate from it. Believe me, she told me for nearly a whole hour how she wouldn’t move out because she couldn’t see it in someone else’s hands. The pension was just enough to cover for house and food, so she didn’t have much extra.”

    They came to a halt before the door that was cordoned off by the police, but Evelyn swiftly cut through the sticker.

    “You’ve become unscrupulous, huh,” Ariel said and stepped in behind her.

    “It’s your terrible influence,” Evelyn replied and turned on the lights.

    “This was probably a nice house once,” Ariel noted as they looked around. The ceiling was dark brown mahogany, the floor white marble tiles that looked quite expensive, but were covered with a great Persian carpet. Overall it seemed to have been a very grandiose house judging by its interior alone. There were shadows on the walls, where paintings or photos must have hung -- which perhaps had been sold in time. This was an impression that wasn’t new to Evelyn, as weren’t the spiderwebs in the corners and the dust on the decoration.

    “They probably used to have a lot of money back in the day. Judging from the silverware alone,” Evelyn agreed and pointed towards the dining room, the door still open from the day before. Ariel nodded along and they walked over the echoing tiles, over the old dusty rugs, quieter. There was a simple chandelier over the dinner table, dipping the small room in yellow light, spider webs between its bulbs.

    Evelyn walked over to the sideboard, opened the drawer where the silverware was neatly stashed on red velvet.

    “Fancy,” Ariel mumbled and looked at the spoons and knives and forks. “So which of these is the culprit?”

    Evelyn looked down, face blank. “I don’t remember.”

    “Didn’t you say that there was some kind of evil aura?”

“Very much so. It only missed evil green sparkles or something. But it just looked like a fork. Maybe too much like a fork? It definitely stood out somehow.” Evelyn looked down at the forks. None of it was missing, the cutlery was still neatly put in its satin cushion, but she still couldn’t make out the one that had been the medium to curse her. She still remembered the unsettling feeling that had overcome her at the sight of the whole drawer the last time around, shivers running down her spine. All of that was missing now.

    “Maybe it is because I sent the granny off? Or because the curse got activated?” she mused. Ariel crossed their arms before their chest.

“That’s both possible. Curses work in a whole lot of different ways, there are dozens of various classifications for how they are transmitted alone. If the medium isn’t working once the curse gets activated, and doesn’t even show signs of the curse, then it means that either the curse gets transmitted through the victim, or that the curse medium is randomised. Any kind of object could be the medium now if it’s not you.”

    Evelyn felt her limbs get heavier at those words. It was not the silver – not yet. It was the hope that left her in that moment. Somehow, it had been so easy in her mind. Ariel knew their curses. They knew how to break them.

    “So, what do we do no-”

    Evelyn didn’t even get to finish her question before Ariel took the first fork and poked their finger on it.

    “What are you doing?” her voice jumped an octave higher as Ariel tried the next one.

    “These aren’t exactly sharp, did it bleed when you poked your finger?”

    “No. Sort of? There was liquid silver when I pressed it. But- Why are you-”

    “Maybe it is just a hidden medium. Sometimes, when curses are especially deadly, to make sure the whole power goes into just that one victim, the medium hides its potential so that it won’t curse two people at the same time.”

    “Ah.” Evelyn stared at Ariel as they kept poking themselves with the forks. “So can it still curse you then?”

    “Depends. Potentially.”

    It was late and Evelyn was exhausted, so it took a while for her to understand those words’ meaning. Once she did, however, she quickly grabbed the fork out of Ariel’s hand and put it back.

    “Are you mad? What if you get cursed too?” With horror she looked at a reasonably startled Ariel who just shrugged.

    “Would definitely keep me motivated.” Their gaze dropped to Evelyn’s neck, then wrists where the dark silver veins were well hidden by her hoodie.

    “No. If you get sick you won’t be able to cure me anymore. You stay alive, preferably.” Evelyn closed the drawer and pinched the bridge of her nose.

    “Then how do you think I am going to find the right fork if it is just hiding?” At this point Ariel sounded a little exasperated, a fake smile on their dark purple lips.

    “Don’t you have some strange curse detector of sorts?”

    Ariel just shook their head. “Only nolly-powder and that’s really just for our last resort, okay? There are really, drastically awful side-effects, and we should not lose time because of them.” 

It was quiet in the dining room, only the platter of the rain against the windows -- it sounded spitefully soft now. The quiet of a house not lived in. Consequently, it was easy to hear the door fall shut.

    Both Evelyn and Ariel whipped around toward the back of the room, where the door was still wide open as they had left it.

    “Maybe above us?” Evelyn wondered with a toneless voice.

    “Did you not say you sent the granny off?” Ariel asked instead. They glanced at each other with the same uncertain look in their eyes.

    “I am really tired. I would honestly be happier if this was a burglar, and not a ghost. Or a Mare. Seriously, I couldn’t even handle an Elwetritsch today.”

    “Isn’t that last one just some super shy chicken with antlers?” Ariel had turned back to the forks and continued poking their finger.

    “Please don’t underestimate chicken nor antlers. But yes. They also can’t shut doors,” Evelyn said and sighed deeply. Maybe, if she ignored any kind of noises for long enough they would eventually disappear by themselves.

    Certainly, getting cursed didn’t seem bad enough for one day, though. So she flinched when there followed the sound of something heavy falling over – really heavy – somewhere in the house, even if it was not close by.

    “At this point, it would make more sense if it was a burglar,” Ariel said and walked back towards the hallway. Stairs lead up to the next floor on one side, a door right underneath that had to lead into the cellar.“Hey, let’s take bets. I say it’s a burglar, you say it’s a horned chicken. Winner gets ten Euros, deal?”

    “It’s called an Elwetritsch, and also I wouldn’t make deals with dying people if I were you, Ariel.”

    “That just sounds like you have no faith in my abilities at all.” They said it like a joke, but Evelyn knew them long enough now to understand what they actually meant. The way they weren’t looking up at her when they said it was telling enough.

    “I do trust you, Ariel. You know that right?” Evelyn looked at them, and when their eyes finally met, Ariel’s crinkled. “Just, the situation is driving me a bit on edge, that’s all,” she added.

    “Mh,” Ariel hummed, not in a way that indicated that they believed her. For now she ignored it, as she did the feeling of doubt in the pit of her stomach, and focused on Ariel instead when they pointed upstairs. “Let’s check in on the Elwetritsch?”

    Evelyn nodded and followed them up the stairs. Last time she had not gone that far deep into the house, and it seemed like the old woman who had lived here didn’t either. The dust laid heavily on the old furniture, even on the ground in a way that was easy to see in the dim light.

    “Doesn’t seem like she went here often.” Ariel wiped a finger over the dust and pulled a face. “This is going to make my allergies so bad.”

    “Maybe she was too old to walk many steps. Old people have bad joints, no?” Evelyn opened the door to her side, revealing a small bathroom that looked like it was ripped straight out of a 70s decoration advert. It smelled like old water and too much soap, the tiles a shade of orange that should be banned. 

    “It would be a good place for a burglar now that the house is officially empty, just that there are no signs of a living person anywhere. Not even chicken feet in the dust.” Ariel had kneeled on the ground staring at the floor from close up and squinted at the tiles. They sneezed. 

    “Maybe the noise came from the cellar then,” Evelyn wondered and walked over to the next door. Behind it, there was a children’s room. Posters of pop bands from the eighties still hung on the walls, the bookshelves empty but the bed still made ready. It poked at Evelyn, uncurled something inside her heart at the view.

    “She had her kid’s room ready for whenever they would come back home, it seems. That’s very nice.” And still no one had noticed the old woman’s death in such a long time. She must have been truly lonely. She walked over to the next room that was mostly empty.

    “Any chickens inside?” Ariel asked into the space – nothing answered. There were still curtains and a closet on the wall. A fainter colour in the shape of a bed on another wall.

    “This probably was the old bedroom. Maybe she had the bed brought downstairs at some point.” Evelyn walked over where there was still an impression of the bedposts in the old rug.

    “Okay, one more room, I am having the hunch that I will be disappointed regarding my expectations to see horned chicken today.”

    “Wait.” Evelyn turned back to Ariel who was just about to walk over to the next room. “Don’t you think this room feels weird?” she asked and Ariel just shrugged. But there was an undeniable shadow hiding in the corners, behind the curtains, inside the closet.

    “Feels like it does in your apartment. Like ghosts are trapped in here.”

    “There are no ghosts trapped inside my apartment,” Ariel refuted but walked closer to Evelyn as she went to open the closet door.

    “Are you good with ghosts?” they mumbled behind her back as she put her hand on the door knob.

    “Most of them. As long as I recognize them, yes.”

    Ariel chuckled a bit at her words, which gave her the courage to open the door. Behind, there was nothing. Nothing but shadows. Evelyn crunched down and now it was her turn to wipe with her finger through the dust.

    “And?”

    “Looks like there were ghosts here at least. Maybe it was the granny. There is residue mixed here. See? The grey ash?” She held her finger up for Ariel to see and they nodded.

    “Knew that dust looked funky.”

    “It’s when ghosts dissolve. They lose what could be considered their body. To the human eye it looks ashen. It also tends to darken shadows.”

    “Fascinating.”

    Evelyn looked up at Ariel with a raised eyebrow. “You had a class about this. You studied the same subjects as me at uni.”

    “That really is no reason for me to actually know this stuff.”

    Evelyn supposed that they had made a fair point and let the matter be, even if the confusion would not leave her. 

“The granny was still very lifelike when I saw her. She couldn’t have dissolved that much so quickly for us to find so much residue.”

“So, more ghosts?”, Ariel suggested and Evelyn gave a nod. There was only one more room on the floor, and she could not deny the rising anticipation. Before the door, they both hesitated, though. 

    “If there is no burglar in there, we should check the cellar next,” Evelyn mused and Ariel nodded and stepped back a bit, as if asking Evelyn to open the door first.

    “We should check the cellar either way, really. No matter what we find behind this door” she said and took a step back too. Ariel just sent their hand through their hair and pointed at the door.

    “You feel that there’s something behind this, too. Don’t you? It might be important, so we should really check this out. You go first.”

    Evelyn shook her head. “There is no reason I should go first. This is about curses, so you’re the go-to person. You should go first.”

    “It’s likelier that there’s a burglar behind this, or a horned chicken. That’s your area of expertise, so you should go first. I am far too fragile to be put in such a danger.”

    “Ariel, you were the one who went to attack a Mare back when we met, do you remember?”

    “Yes, and I have learnt and changed myself through that experience. More specifically, I have learnt that it should be you who deals with these kinds of matters. So after you.”

    Evelyn sighed deeply and then shrugged. “You know what? Fine. There’s no reason not to check out this room too. I can ignore some cold shudders down my spine, I am not that easily frightened.” Just as she put her hand on the door knob, though, the knob dissipated to dust right in front of her. Evelyn and Ariel exchanged a glance. “I feel like something doesn’t actually want us to enter this room.”

    “No shit.” Ariel stepped back even farther and then waved for her to move out of the way. Evelyn just managed to get far away enough before they tried to kick the door open. 

    A loud yelp, a loud bang when the door flew open, but nothing else happened, no monster jumping at them, no screaming ghost, and no attacking burglar either. In front of them was a simple study, filled with bookshelves and a big desk full of papers and letters.

    “I am slightly disappointed. That’s what I hurt my ankle for?” Ariel said as they stepped inside. Evelyn followed right after and couldn’t hide her slight awe. For a few seconds, the sight of the study overwhelmed her, a space that was clearly well cared for, a space that must have been so precious a long time ago. It was as obvious as it could be, small decorative figures on the shelf, a few letters framed on the wall. The only sign of neglect was the thick layer of dust on the books, even inside there. It was the few seconds in which Evelyn’s heart beat a bit lighter, forgetting about the fact that it pumped liquid silver through her body.

    The spell was broken as Ariel’s words settled in a bit late. “You hurt your ankle? Should we go and check with a doctor?” 

    “No, it’ll be fine. This is how devoted I am to curing you. Let’s check out these open letters and books, maybe we will find a clue about the curse,” Ariel whispered. They had a good point though, so they both started to work through what they could get in their hands.

    It didn’t take long until they realized what the old lady had used the study for.

    “She was looking into curses,” Evelyn said as she flipped through A Beginners Guide to Curses And How to Break Them.

    “Yeah. I found a conversation with a famous curse-broker from the sixties here. Apparently they were discussing some new phenomena that they thought were linked to curses.”

    “But she was not a curse-broker herself?” Evelyn wondered and Ariel shook their head.

    “If she had been, I would have known. Not a professional one, at least. Maybe she just was fascinated by them. Or maybe she had a victim in her family. A lot of people get into curses after one of their loved ones succumbs to one.”

    Evelyn continued to flip through the book before her until her fingers traced the photo of a boy in silver, shackled to a barn wall. A cold shudder ran through her then, made her recoil a bit before she flipped to the next page, where an equally familiar photo was printed.

    “Ariel, I am certain that this woman knew about the Heart of Silver curse. This book looks well read.”

    “You have it,” Ariel mumbled from behind her, their voice a bit thin. It nearly sounded as if they would start crying, which was a slightly unsettling thought.

    When Evelyn turned around, it was not Ariel who stood behind her. Instead, she stared right at the very dead eyes of a young boy. He was maybe fifteen years old, still already nearly as big as Evelyn herself. The startle nearly made her scream, but she could control herself just in time. Carefully, she tried to look around and find Ariel, but the boy just came closer, losing his body more and more.

    “Yes, I have. I have it,” Evelyn stuttered and held out the book to him. 

    “No. You have it,” the boy repeated, in the same manner, but he still sounded more powerful. His eyes dropped to her neck, where the black lines of her silver veins were visible the best. 

    “I do,” she agreed and pulled up her sleeves as well to bare her wrists. 

    “You should find what you really want,” the boy said with a sad tone in his voice, it sounded farther away than he was. So hollow.

    “I will. Thank you.”

    The boy still looked like there was more that he wanted to say, but when he opened his mouth next, there was no sound coming from him. Instead he just disappeared into thin air once more. Evelyn felt her whole body shake.

    “Oh! Look at what I found! That old granny won second place in a cooking show once!” Ariel yelled from across the room. Evelyn turned to them and the framed certificate in their hands.

    “Wow, you look as if you have seen a ghost.”

    Evelyn just stared at them from afar and pointed towards the dusty footprints before her.

    “There is a ghost in here.”

    The ash-like dust was still falling slowly like soft snow and landed before her feet -- the thought alone that the ghost was standing so close made her skin crawl. Ariel took off their glasses for a moment to narrow their eyes at where Evelyn was pointing.

    “I can’t see anything.”

    “The ghost is currently not showing his corporal form.”

    Ariel nodded and pushed the glasses back up their nose. “So it was a ghost, not a burglar or an Elwetritsch. At least as long as there isn’t anything weird in the cellar. What happens when neither of us win a bet? Do we both pay? You give me 10 euros and I give you 10 euros?”

    Evelyn decided to ignore the question and instead held up the book that was still in her hands.

    “The old lady knew about the curse. The ghost materialized for a moment when I talked about it. He said ‘You should find what you really want’, and then disappeared.”

    Finally, Ariel got a bit more serious and walked over.

    “That’s the same book as I have at home,” they mumbled and took it out of her hands. “So the old granny really knew some of those curses. I wonder if it’s just a coincidence, or if she was somehow tied to that curse especially.” They flipped through the pages not unlike Evelyn had done before, until they looked up again. “What is it that you really want, Evelyn?”

    “I want to get rid of this curse, of course, what do you think?”

    “What do you really want, must be the focus here, then. So, some kind of personal revelation might be the key to fulfilling the curse.”

    “Believe me, my thoughts and emotions are all set on staying alive. Maybe what he said was not related to the curse, though. It could be that he was just talking nonsense. Some ghosts lose control over their words with time,” Evelyn pointed out and with another glance at the ashen dust before her, she added, “This one has been dissolving for a long time now, from what it looks like. I bet he is the one leaving all the residue in the other rooms.”

    Ariel put down the book onto the desk and stared at the ashen footprints in front of Evelyn. “Better search the cellar then? Let’s find out a bit more about this granny that taught herself about curses, hid ghosts in her house, and cursed innocent ghost hunters after her death with her silverware, shall we?”

In lieu of nothing better to say, Evelyn agreed and carefully stepped around the ghost, out of the study.

____

previous chapter || WIP intro || masterlist || next chapter

[brown-little-robin]

❤️🎀🎁

❤️ Someone you're excited to be with this Christmas

Just ONE person??? I’m going home to stay with my family, which is a lot of my favorite people! But also I’m really excited to see Granny for Christmas—I don’t see her often now, but she’s one of my absolute favorites.

What a character Granny is! She and I have a little in-joke that she’s a peacock (starting when I called her a peacock when I was... eight years old or so); she loves sequins and glitz and all things flamboyant. She collects a ridiculous amount of fancy dishes and uses them to host large parties; she’s really generous and loves cooking for people. She has a big ol’ sparkly pineapple chandelier which she loves very much because the pineapple was the Colonial American symbol of hospitality. She describes herself as “bossy”, which is true, but she’s so brisk and... fun about it that no one minds. I love her so much.

🎀 Favorite Christmas Decoration?

again, just one?? Probably my family’s popcorn strings. We string popcorn into popcorn strings together every year while listening to this recording of A Christmas Carol. We spritz the popcorn with food-coloring-water, so the strings are vaguely pastel, and sometimes put cranberries on them. It’s beautiful, homey, and a bonding experience! What better decoration could you ask for?

🎁 Best Christmas present you've ever received?

uhhhh. Kaylie, you chose hard ones; I’m going to write a strongly worded letter. I now feel like I’ve never received a present in my life.

SO! I had a think about it, and I can’t decide a single present that’s the best. But I love this art of a winter moon that Time Lady made for me, and this Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild backpack from Mom and Dad (before we had fallen in love with Legend of Zelda, funnily enough—they just thought it looked neat), and this hardy blue backpack that’s lasted me seven years from Grandma (not Granny).

Another truly wonderful Christmas present was piano lessons from Granny— several years worth of learning to appreciate and play music. Through piano lessons, I developed a lifelong fascination with rhythm and music and mathematical beauty and the interactions between art and mathematics, logic and beauty. I can still see the influence of the piano lessons even in my writing, the way I write such intentional rhythms into even my prose and intentionally use repeating motifs like musical themes... and of course poetry is even more so.

Thank you for the ask! It brought joy into my day.

[timelordthirteen]

Desperate Souls 3/?

Mr. Gold/BelleFrench, Explicit

Summary: A broke and heartbroken Belle French comes to an agreement with Mr. Gold to do a little modeling, just for him, in exchange for the money she desperately needs, but it isn’t long before they both realize they’ve made a deal they didn’t understand. Based on this prompt.

Chapter Summary: The first evening at Gold's goes unexpectedly for Belle.

Notes: And here we go... ;) This got very long which I guess is what I get for trying to cram too much in. Chapter 4 is in progress. This is what Belle wears. And yes I have images for everything.

[AO3]

Belle spent the next week trying not to think about her deal with Gold.

Every time she looked out the library window at the pawn shop, or saw him walking down the street, she could feel her ears burning and a flush creep up her neck. Monday, she picked up the money for the ring, such as it was, and nothing had been said on the matter, except to agree on seven o’clock as the time she should arrive at his house. It was said almost as an afterthought, after the sales receipt had been written out and the cash was in her hand. She was so focused on the existence of their agreement at all, that she hadn’t given any thought to the fact that she didn’t know when she was supposed to show up.

Wednesday morning they were both in Granny’s diner at the same time getting coffee. He said good morning to her as he went to leave, very nonchalantly, very I am not paying you to model your lingerie for me, and she completely mishandled the change Ruby was giving her, spilling half of it into her purse and the other half on the floor. Of course he was out the door by the time the last quarter fell.

But now the day was here, and she couldn’t ignore the inevitable anymore.

She closed the library at five, and went up to her apartment to shower. The new shelving had arrived for the children’s section resulting in her spending much of the day crouching down on the dusty floor reorganizing everything. It was tiring work, but satisfying, and she couldn’t wait to unveil all the updates that had been done since the section was closed a couple of months ago. Her excitement for that was , unfortunately, tempered by what was about to occur as soon as she realized what time it was.

Belle didn’t know how one should dress for such a thing. Since she hoped the whole event would be just a quick in and out, she opted for a comfortable navy sweater dress and a pair of leggings, which she thought would be fairly easy and quick to take off and put back on. As soon as the idea of taking off her clothes hit her, her stomach dropped to the bottom of her black ankle boots.

Fuck.

She closed her eyes and took a slow breath, in and out. The sick feeling faded, but she started to wonder if she should even go through with it. Gold was paying a substantial amount of money, and on paper it seemed simple: show up, put on some fancy underwear, get paid, and go home. Except every single part of that sounded like exactly what a prostitute did. While she was fully supportive of sex work from a feminist perspective, it was absolutely not something she wanted to do herself.

Yet she felt like she was about to, in a way, and it made her wonder what was in it for Gold. She didn’t really know that much about it, apart from the fact that he was rich and everyone thought he was a jerk to varying degrees. Her limited interactions with him had always been very cordial, and while he seemed a bit eccentric and reserved, he was also intelligent and sharply funny. The first time she’d met him, right before she’d interviewed for the position at the library, he’d made her laugh. Five minutes later, when she found out he was part of the town council’s hiring committee, she’d been terrified that she was already out of the running. He didn’t ask her a single question, yet at the end everyone had looked at him as if he alone held the deciding vote.

Congratulations, Miss French.

That was all he’d said, and it was done; she was hired. The whole thing had been surreal, and now somehow her current situation made it even more so. Had he set his sights on her back then? Had he been waiting the past four years for a moment when she would need something from him to do - what? None of it made any sense.

Sighing, Belle checked herself one last time in the mirror on the back of her bedroom door, and then picked up her purse. It was time to do the brave thing.

Gold’s house was on a dead end lane not far from the library.

Everyone knew which one was his, the pink Victorian with the wide front porch that sat between two stately trees on a small bump of a hill. It seemed set apart from all the other houses, both because of the wide, deep lot in which it was built, and because of the almost ominous way it loomed over the other homes. It seemed to project its owner’s presence, and Belle shivered.

She carefully picked her way up the front sidewalk, her hands clenched into fists inside her coat pockets as she wondered what piece he had picked for her to wear. There were a couple of items she’d special ordered that were more on the risque side of the spectrum, things that were more personal to her, things that she liked for herself, not just to wear for someone else. Faced with the prospect of wearing them for Gold, she felt strange, as if a part of her might be exposed in a way that had nothing to do with how much of her bare skin was showing.

She paused at the door, repeating her mantra to do the brave thing, before she raised her hand and knocked. Her arrival was earlier than they’d discussed, only a few minutes after six, but she couldn’t sit in her apartment another second. Hopefully Gold wouldn't mind her desire to get things over with as quick as possible.

The delay before Gold opened the door felt interminable, but then a warm glow was spilling onto the porch, and she caught a whiff of something that made her inhale sharply. The scent was rich and familiar. It made her mouth water, and it took her a moment to realize it was the smell of food cooking.

“Miss French,” Gold said, breathlessly. He looked down at her and frowned. “You’re early.”

Belle forced a smile and shrugged. “Sorry, I was just sitting around at home and thought...why not just get it over with?”

His expression changed in a way she couldn’t read, but then he stepped back and held open the door. “Please, come in.”

The foyer was high and surprisingly bright, with a large, wrought iron chandelier that looked like something that belonged in the Middle Ages. In front of her was a short hallway that appeared to lead to the kitchen from which the aforementioned delicious smell was emanating. To the left was a sitting room, and to the right was the staircase, and while he was busy shutting the door behind her, she was busy...staring.

“May I take your coat?” Gold’s voice startled her, and she spun around to find him looking at her curiously.

She swallowed and nodded, and then handed it over, watching as he hung it on a set of hooks inside the door. Then he turned to her with a faint smile and his hands folded over the handle of his cane. Abruptly, she noticed that he was without his usual suit jacket, and instead was in just a checked dress shirt with a solid color tie. It was disarmingly casual.

“I was just making some dinner,” he said. “Since you’re early, I suppose you can join me, if you like.”

Belle blinked. Dinner. Dinner was so...normal. Dinner was a thing she did on dates before she let someone see her in her underwear, which was not what this was. But at the very mention of food, the scent wafted in from the kitchen once more, and she realized how hungry she was. She hadn’t had anything to eat since lunch, which she barely picked at anyway as her nerves about tonight grew and grew.

“Uh, yeah, o-okay,” she managed.

At that, Gold’s lips curved a bit more, and he motioned with a hand in the direction of the kitchen. She turned and walked ahead of him, her hand tight on her purse strap, as if she expected him to attack her or hit her over the head with something at a moment’s notice. It was ridiculous, she knew that, but the situation was ridiculous, and clearly her nerves were still getting the better of her.

The kitchen was quite well appointed and large, with a wide gas stove top set in an island with three bar stools at one end. Delicate pendants hung over the span of dark granite, an old fashioned style with those bare filament bulbs and a dark metal finish around the top. Her eyes darted around the space as Gold went to work at the stove. There was a pot of something bubbling away, and when he removed the lid, the room flooded with the scent. She let out a sound that was half contented hum, half moan at the enticing aroma, as she leaned forward over the edge of the counter.

He gave the contents of the pot a stir, and then retrieved two plates from a cabinet along with silverware from a nearby drawer. In a matter of a minute or two, he had dished up two servings of some sort of stew over a pile of fluffy mashed potatoes. She could see bits of beef, carrot, and pearl onions in a fragrant gravy, and her stomach rumbled loudly.

Gold glanced at her, eyebrows lifted. “The dining room is through there, if you’d like to have a seat,” he said, with a nod towards a room off the kitchen. “I’ll just be a moment.”

Without a word, she picked up her plate and utensils, and made her way through into the dining room. It was a long, narrow space that connected back around to the sitting room at the front of the house. There was a sizable table in the center with a total of six chairs, and an old fireplace on the outside wall that had been retrofitted with a gas insert. It was giving off a soothing heat, and she sighed as she came around the table. She set her plate down and leaned her elbows on the table, resting her head on her folded hands, breathing slow and deep as the fire warmed her back.

“Alright?”

Belle looked up and then straightened, nodding as Gold came into the room, his plate in his free hand, and a bottle of wine tucked under his arm. “Yeah,” she said. “Fine.”

He returned to the kitchen to fetch two glasses, and came back a moment later to take the seat directly across from her. “Drink?”

She nodded dazedly, though whether that was because of lack of food, or because it was entirely too surreal that she was having dinner with Mr. Gold, in his house, which he himself had cooked, she couldn’t say.

“Beef burgundy,” he said as he popped the cork from the bottle and poured some wine into each glass. “Seemed like the thing for a cold winter night.”

“So you’re Julia Child?” She said it without thinking, and for a second she was worried he wouldn’t find it funny, but then he grinned crookedly.

“Hardly. But I think I do well enough.”

A half hour or so later, Belle would have to say that Gold did more than well enough. The best meal she’d had in ages, it was altogether warm and earthy, with beef so tender that it fell apart under the weight of her fork. The potatoes were the perfect thing to hold all the delicious bits of vegetables together, and scoop up the gravy which was made rich with red wine and bits of bacon. She set her fork down with a light clatter against the plate, and tossed back the last swallow of wine in her glass, which she was quite certain was a brand and vintage that cost at least half a day’s pay.

The thing that surprised her the most, aside from the delightful explosion of garlic with every bite of mushroom, was that they’d managed to fill the silence with something resembling actual conversation. It was mostly about food and cooking, something about which Gold seemed quite passionate and opinionated, but it flowed well, and for a time she forgot that this wasn’t a dinner between acquaintances. It was a business transaction, and too soon the food and wine were gone, and she started anticipating having to keep up her end of things.

She helped Gold clear the table, but he shooed her from the kitchen before long, sending her to the study. The room had double french doors at the entrance, a high ceiling, and a stone fireplace that would have matched well with the chandelier in the foyer in a fourteenth century castle. A rush of warmth washed over her as she opened the doors, and she smiled as she looked around. Flanking either side of the fireplace were floor to ceiling bookshelves, that contained all manner of books and collections, as well a small, but well stocked, wet bar. There was a large mahogany desk at one end of the room where a bank of windows looked out onto the backyard, and at the other was a wide china cabinet with even more little treasures.

Two high back upholstered chairs sat to either side of the fireplace, with a large rectangular ottoman in tufted leather that seemed to take the place of a standard coffee table. There was a sofa as well, facing the hearth, that matched the ottoman. The walls were wallpapered, but framed art of all kinds, hung on every one of them, and above the fireplace mantle was an appropriately sized television. A professional designer would probably find it an eclectic mess, but Belle thought it was cozy and charming, exactly the sort of room that one wanted to relax in while the wind howled and the snow fell.

She was just about to peruse Gold’s collection of books when he appeared in the doorway. “It’s after seven.”

His expression was more subdued than when they were eating, and she swallowed hard, feeling the abrupt shift in the tone of the evening.

“Right,” she said, willing her stomach not to give up the food she’d just consumed. “Where should I -?”

“There’s a powder room through there, just before you get to the kitchen,” he replied. “You’ll find what you need in there.”

And there it was.

The facade that had been in place during their meal had lifted, and Gold was back to being Gold. Standing with his hands folded on his cane and with his suit jacket in place, he was, as always, impeccable and imperceptible. She couldn’t pretend this was anything else but what it was, and the uncomfortable knot in her throat returned as she passed by him.

The half bath was located under the stairs, and though a wall somewhere had been adjusted to accommodate it, the slant of the ceiling made it feel smaller than it was. The odd shadows cast by the sconces over the sink, and the way the toilet was tucked into an angled niche, made it feel like a cell in a dungeon.

Belle stepped inside, closed the door, and froze. Hanging on a brass hook on the back of the door was the black chemise she’d brandished in his shop. It was fairly tame as such things went, being plain black silk with lace trim adorning the edge of the bust and hem. The most tantalizing thing about it was the spaghetti straps, and some of her anxiety was alleviated by the fact that he had chosen the least revealing thing in the collection. Of course that meant there were plenty of scandalous items left to embarrass her.

There was a set of metal shelves to the left of the pedestal sink, containing a basket of extra toilet paper, and a bottle of hand soap. She set her purse down on one of the free shelves at the bottom, and then sat down on the closed lid of the toilet to take her boots off. Midway through unzipping the first one, it dawned on her that she didn’t have anything to wear on her feet. Of course on her honeymoon that wasn’t such a big deal, though a few items she’d planned to pair with some sexy heels. She sat for a long moment contemplating what to do, and finally shook her head. Bare feet would have to do, and if Gold didn’t like it, well that was his problem. He was getting what he paid for and no more.

As Belle pulled her sweater dress up over her head, she wondered if she should have asked him for a contract. But that would have meant a paper trail that said she was selling her lingerie clad body to Gold. Proof was the last thing she needed, though she supposed he could be planning to take pictures of her or something equally damning. There were rumors that he’d blackmailed the former mayor, but it was so many years ago now that no one really knew for sure.

She stripped off the rest of her clothes and hastily folded them before setting them on the shelf next to her purse. Then she removed the chemise from the hanger and slipped it over her head, the cool silk skimming down her bare body and making her shiver. After a moment’s hesitation, she firmly decided she was keeping her panties on for this one. They weren’t visible through the material of the chemise, and were a similar black with lace trim style.

Turning to the door, she caught her reflection in the brass framed mirror above the sink, and paused. The chemise wasn’t form fitting or clingy, but like most things made of silk and lace it didn’t leave a lot to the imagination. Still, it wasn’t that much more revealing than her favorite blue sundress as far as cut and material went.

And yet it was.

It was an undergarment she had purchased for the sole purpose of wearing it as a preamble to sex. It was a statement, an invitation.

Belle forced her eyes away from the mirror and took a breath as she opened the powder room door. The hallway was chilly, and she shivered again as her bare feet made contact with the cold wood floor. She was grateful that the study was so warm, and wondering if he’d planned it so, starting a fire and closing the doors to keep the heat in. It was strangely thoughtful, which was as incongruous with what she knew about Mr. Gold as much as the fact that he’d served her dinner.

Shaking her head, she made herself step forward and then around the corner, heading back down the short hallway. The faint draft from the front door brushed across her, raising goosebumps on her arms, legs, and - elsewhere. She stopped just before the threshold of the study and looked down to see the front of the chemise doing nothing to hide her pebbled nipples. With a roll of her eyes, she pushed open one of the french doors, and stepped into the room.

Gold was seated in one of the chairs, facing the door, and Belle could feel his eyes on her as soon as she came into view. She tried not to look at him as she made her way around the end of the sofa, but when she reached the ottoman, it became almost impossible. Her eyes lifted and met his, and for a long moment she felt frozen in place.

The side of her that was near to the fire was quite warm, but the other side was still chilled from the hallway. She felt another tingle of goosebumps across her skin, and clenched her jaw to keep from looking down at herself lest she draw his attention to the obvious.

Gold’s eyes were dark, his features shadowed by the glow of the fireplace, but she knew instinctively that his gaze was traveling up and down her body, taking in every inch of her. He was reclined casually, right leg crossed over the left, and his elbows on the arms of the chair as she stood just a few feet in front of him. The handle of his cane glinted in the low light, and she had the absurd impression that this might be what meeting the Devil was like.

“Mr. Gold?” she said quietly.

He shifted in his seat and let his eyes bore straight into hers for a long moment before he raised a hand and made a circular motion with one long finger. “Turn around.”

She suppressed a shiver at the low, soft tone of his voice, and the way it made his accent heavier. Slowly, she pivoted on her heel, shifting her feet until she had turned in a complete circle. When she faced him again, his expression had changed slightly, his lips parted as he breathed out a whispered lovely. She wasn’t sure if she was supposed to hear it, so she said nothing.

Then he licked at his bottom lip and then gave her a small smile. “Would you pour me a drink?”

Belle blinked, her mouth opening and closing wordlessly.

“Scotch,” he added, indicating the area to the right of the fireplace that she’d noticed earlier. “Neat.”

“Yeah,” she finally managed, “sure.”

She turned and moved to the bar, where she found a short, cut crystal glass and a tall bottle with a name she recognized. It was probably from one of the locked boxes wine and liquor stores usually kept the expensive brands in, the brands where if you had to ask how much the bottle cost you probably couldn’t afford it. Of course Gold was a scotch man. Neat suit, neat scotch, and her lips twitched in odd amusement as she poured the drink.

A heady, earthy scent wafted up from the glass as she picked it up and carried over to where Gold was sitting. She walked by the ottoman and came to stand at the arm of the chair where there was a small side table. He lifted his hand, and she placed the glass in it, but as he lowered it back to the arm of the chair, his knuckles just barely brushed the black silk covering her thigh.

She stepped back quickly, her breath catching and her eyes going wide, but his face betrayed nothing. It was as if he hadn’t noticed, much less done it intentionally, and she exhaled in relief.

“Thank you, Miss French.” He took a small sip of the scotch, his gaze fixed on her over the rim of the glass, and then set the drink down. “Would you like one?”

Belle shook her head. “No thanks.”

“Very well then.”

His words felt final, and when he looked away from her, she knew her task was done. There was something strange about it, dismissive, and it left her unsettled. She hurried back to the powder room, and changed back into her sweater dress and leggings. She was overly warm by the time she was done, and blew a breath upwards at her forehead, ruffling her hair. Unsure of what to do with the chemise, she put it back on the hanger and left it on the back of the door. They hadn’t discussed whether she should take the lingerie back or not. If she kept it, she planned to throw it all in the dumpster with the rest of the remnants of her relationship with Garrett, but what use would it be to Gold?

That was a line of thinking she didn’t want to pursue.

When she came out of the bathroom, Gold was nowhere to be seen, but she could hear music coming from the direction of the study. She went to retrieve her coat, and when she turned around to put it on, there he was, with a yellow mailing envelope in his free hand. He waited while she put her coat and gloves on, and then handed her the envelope. It was a noticeable thickness to the contents, and her heart rate increased as she felt the rectangular shape of what was inside. He’d paid her in cash, and she wasn’t sure she’d ever held that much money at one time.

“I thought it was best not to have a paper trail” he said, once again folding his hands over his cane. “I assure you it’s all there.”

She gave him a brief nod before she tucked it in her purse. “I believe you.”

One of his eyebrows lifted at that, but he otherwise remained passive as he pulled open the front door. “Good night, Miss French.”

“Good night, Mr. Gold.”

She stepped out onto the porch, the chilly air a welcome relief on her face, but then he leaned out to add, “Do be on time next week.”

She nodded again, and then turned away, hurrying down the steps before he had closed the door. Nothing he’d done was impolite or disrespectful, and indeed she had to admit that the majority of the evening was actually quite pleasant, if also a touch awkward. Yet, she couldn’t shake the feeling of his eyes on her. There was a crawling sensation on her skin that made her itch, and all she wanted was to get home and take another shower.

Gold sighed and walked back into the study, leaning heavily on his cane.

He had immediately shed his suit jacket and tie after closing the front door, leaving them draped over the end of the banister to be taken upstairs when he went to bed. Reaching up, he popped the top two buttons on his dress shirt, but he still felt like he couldn’t breathe. The scotch wasn’t helping as it usually did, but he picked up the glass and took a large swallow before dropping down into the chair.

His eyes closed as he leaned back, conjuring the image of Belle French standing in his room in a silky black slip. The length had been demure, the lace no more than a pretty adornment, but it still affected him more than he anticipated. She was as lovely as he knew she would be, and clearly nervous.

Opening his eyes, he sighed again and stared into the fire.

Of course she was anxious about the situation, he was taking advantage of her, having her parade around wearing next to nothing while he watched like a lecherous bastard. It was perhaps the most selfish and base thing he’d ever done, but the moment when she’d looked at him, covered in soft silk and lace, half curious and half afraid, he’d felt a rush of excitement unlike anything he’d felt in years. It was delight and desire and depravity all in one. He shifted in his seat as the sensation washed over him again. When it was over, it would be final. He knew she would likely never speak to him again, but for this short time, one night a week, for as long as her collection of unmentionables lasted, she was his.

The fire snapped loudly, shaking him from his fantasy. He took up his cane and stood abruptly, deciding to forgo a second drink in favor of a cold shower and an early bedtime.