#'good' is simply not enough. paying for services is not enough. making your own equipments instead of buying expensive brands is not enough

[prapuna]

.

[kiratrajsingh]

Kirat Raj Singh  Green Energy Tips That Can Save You A Fortune!

Kirat Raj Singh Professional tips provider. Maintaining green energy in the home does not have to be difficult, and has numerous benefits for you and your family! Simply by installing a programmable thermostat or turning off the lights when you leave a room can help. Read this article for more tips on how to use green energy!

Start small. Even if you don't have the resources for a large-scale green energy project, there are still steps you can take. For example, solar chargers for small electronics generally only require the device to be set near a window for a few hours. Don't underestimate the power of a small step.

You can take advantage of solar power without investing in costly installation. Paying attention to window placement, insulation and landscaping is enough. Get rid of any trees that cast a shadow on your home, add more windows if a room is too dark and add insulation in the walls to retain the solar heat.

A helpful tip to live greener and conserve energy is to have the windows in your home tinted. The windows in your home act like glass in a greenhouse and when you want you home to be cool, the windows will heat it up and work against your air conditioner and cost you a bundle.

A very easy and cheap way to save on your high energy bills is to try installing some low flow shower heads and faucets. Switching from the standard, 2.5 gallon/minute shower heads, to the low flow 1.5 gallon/minute ones, can help you save a lot with your hot water energy costs.

A wind turbine could help you cut down your electric bill by as much as 90%. Before you invest in this type of equipment, find out if the wind is strong enough to produce the amount of energy you need and get a professional to help you choose the right size of turbine.

Try sealing gaps underneath your doors and windows during the summer and winter. This can prevent the warm or cool air from outside from entering your home, which will help keep your home at a good temperature all year. You could also try putting in rugs to provide more insulation to your floorboards.

Kirat Raj Singh Qualified tips provider. Don't throw away that coffee grinds- use them to fertilize your plants. Coffee grinds are rich in nitrogen so these make great, healthy plant food. Using coffee grinds as fertilizer keeps them out of the landfill, makes it unnecessary for you to purchase and use chemical plant food, and make your plants grow nicely, adding oxygen to the atmosphere.

Pay attention to the thermostat in your home. Installing a programmable thermostat makes it easier for you to track the temperature in your house, and turn the heat down when you aren't at home. Between 1 and 3 percent of your energy costs can be cut for each degree you turn it down!

Take advantage of the sun by installing solar panels on your roof. These panels will harvest the energy from the sun and convert it into usable power for your home. Most energy companies will purchase any excess power that is created. You will discover at the least, a reduction in your power bill each month.

Find out more about active and passive forms of solar power. Active systems store the solar energy for use later, while passive systems just use the sun's heat as energy. In order to use active power, you will need to install a few things, including solar cells, mechanical systems, and most importantly, solar panels. Passive solar power, on the other hand, just draws heat from the sun and stores it in your walls for heating purposes.

Kirat Raj Singh Best service provider. Think about getting a hybrid car. Electric cars have many flaws, including the low number of charging stations. With a hybrid car, you can use either gas or electric power, depending on what is available. Invest in a hybrid vehicle if you live close to a charging station or can get your own.

If you would like to make your life greener like many people do, there are plenty of steps you can take. Perhaps you don't have money to spend on making your home more green, but it is possible to start by maintaining smaller things, like clean filters and regulated temperatures. You can also help reduce energy usage by reducing the temperature of your water heater to 120 degrees. Every small change helps!

For green energy use, always recycle your aluminum cans. The energy saved by just recycling one single aluminum can is enough to power a television for three hours. If everyone just recycled their aluminum cans, there would be more energy available for us to use for our everyday use and less energy wasted.

An easy way to make your home greener is to replace your old light fixtures with ones, which are ENERGY STAR qualified. If you are unable to install ENERGY STAR qualified lighting fixtures at the moment, at least replace your standard light bulbs with compact fluorescent light bulbs (CFLs) which use much less energy.

A simple and easy way to reduce your energy consumption and make your house greener is to thoroughly clean the lint filter in your dryer each time before you use it. Believe it or not, by doing this easy and simple act, you can slash your dryer's usage of electricity by as much as 30%!

A great old fashioned way to heat your home and to save on energy is to use a wood burner. There are newer, more modern versions of wood burners called pellet stoves. These stoves burn pellets that are made of compressed sawdust. Both of these methods of heat burn with few emissions and do not require an EPA certification.

Kirat Raj Singh Most excellent service provider. Conserving energy is one of the single most important things that we all can do to make the world a better place. Keeping the environment in mind is necessary to decrease pollution and make global warming a lesser threat. Remember the tips in this article to make your home greener!

[concretenewcastle]

How Much Does a Cubic Meter of Concrete Cost in Newcastle?

When customers work out the cost of their concrete they often factor in a cubic metre rate. This is the price of the concrete before it sets and hardens.

However, many forget to factor in waiting time expenses. These charges cover labour, diesel and running costs while the concrete is being pumped to your site.

Origin Concrete Newcastle

Concrete is a popular material for driveways, patios, and pool surrounds. It is durable, low maintenance, and can be coloured to add a decorative element to your home. A professional Newcastle concrete contractor can install or repair your concrete surfaces and can also add a variety of other finishing touches to your property.

A new concrete driveway is a great way to improve the curb appeal of your home. A Newcastle concreter can create a unique, custom driveway that fits your needs. They can also lay and repair concrete pathways, patios, and sidewalks. They can even build retaining walls and create concrete slabs for foundations and floors.

Origin Concrete Newcastle is a local business that shares a commitment to quality craft, professionalism, and excellent customer service. They also have a passion for helping their community. Their partnership with the Latin Dance School is an excellent example of how businesses can work together to positively impact their communities.

Residential Concreters Newcastle

Many homeowners turn to concreters for work that includes laying a concrete slab, patio or driveway. These structures are popular additions to the home, bringing value while adding function and style. They’re also incredibly durable and low maintenance. Some concreting jobs are easy enough to undertake yourself, but larger projects need experienced concreters and the right equipment to get it done properly.

When choosing a concreter, make sure you get several quotes and compare prices. Ask about their experience and whether they hold a concreting licence. Also, ask about any extra costs that may be involved such as hiring a separate excavator or designing and implementing drainage.

The cost of ready mix concrete can vary, but it’s generally quoted per cubic metre (m3). A good idea is to work out how much you’ll need from the start, as this will help avoid buying more than you need and paying for unused concrete. The price of concrete can also be affected by the type and density of the product.

Patio Concreters Newcastle

If you’re planning on adding a patio, walkway or driveway to your home, then you need to hire a professional concreter. These professionals specialise in concrete construction, paving, concreting and other related services. They are dedicated to quality craftsmanship and professionalism, and they can also provide a wide range of decorative finishes for your concrete.

They can also install a concrete driveway, which involves major jobs like excavation, laying steel reinforcements and pouring cement. This is a long process that requires at least a couple of days to cure properly. A good concrete contractor will ensure that the surface is free from grass and other debris before it’s poured.

A concrete driveway is an excellent addition to your home, as it increases its value and makes your property look more attractive. Moreover, it’s durable and can stand heavy loads, unlike asphalt, which is more susceptible to rutting. Concrete is also relatively cooler than asphalt in the summer, which means it’s suitable for hot climates.

Pool Concreters Newcastle

Home to some of the most breathtaking beaches and pristine coastline, Newcastle residents have never been more interested in investing in a pool. The perfect swimming pool can add significant value to your property and improve the quality of your life. Whether you’re planning to entertain friends and family or simply want to relax in your own private oasis, a concrete swimming pool can meet your needs perfectly.

There are many factors that can affect the cost of a swimming pool, including size and depth. If you choose to install an inground pool, excavation costs can increase the overall price significantly. The type of soil and slope of the site also play a role in excavation costs.

In addition to pool construction, Newcastle concreters can also help with landscaping, fencing and paving. They can provide a variety of patios that will complement your pool and add to the appeal of your home. Concrete patios can be coloured to match your home’s exterior and enhance the aesthetic appeal of your outdoor space.

source https://concretenewcastle.wordpress.com/2023/06/30/how-much-does-a-cubic-meter-of-concrete-cost-in-newcastle/

[investoptionwin]

Health Insurance And You: Finding The Information You Need

Getting health insurance can be tricky, expensive and sometimes, down right hard. If you aren't getting coverage through your employer then private health insurance has the ability to deny you if you don't meet certain criteria. It's a scary world that you need to be armed with information so that you can get coverage, get a good deal and avoid paying for services that you don't need. If monthly costs for health insurance are a concern, look a higher deductible plan. This option allows for you to handle smaller out of pocket costs as needed and the need for a deductible is only necessary when a more catastrophic event occurs. The minor incidents are easier to budget and allow you to save monthly dollars for your day to day life. To lower the deductible costs of your health insurance, choose a plan whose network includes your primary care doctor as well as your preferred specialists. This will save you from paying a fee to continue to visit your primary care doctor and from paying fees to see your preferred specialists. When considering a health care insurance plan from your employer, be sure to not forget about possible favored doctors and if they will be included in your plan. This is especially important to consider with an OB/GYN, dentist, or long time family doctor. Sometimes it may be more important to pay more for a different plan than to abandon your favorite doctor. When considering a health care insurance plan from your employer, be sure to check out any possible perks that they may provide. Many times, you may get a discount for being a non-smoker, discounts off of exercise equipment, or discounts for local gyms and recreation centers. You may even qualify for a discount simply by answering a provided questionnaire regarding your health habits. If your looking into personal health insurance some companies will let you take a "free look" or a "test drive" of the coverage. What this means is that you would have a certain amount of time to actually try out the insurance that way you will fully understand the coverage. Within that certain period of time if you are not satisfied you can get a full refund. Sign up for a flexible spending account. If you are paying for your own health insurance costs, consider the move to an HSA. An HSA is a Health Savings Account that you can contribute towards, tax free, and then withdraw the money, also tax free, for any medical costs you face. Depending on the demographic makeup of your office, employer based insurance may not be the best for you. how to become an insurance agent are built upon spreading out the risk. If you are the youngest person in an office, working with a group of people nearing retirement, you will pay more for your insurance to cover for them. Always check with outside insurance before choosing to go with your employers. Contact multiple insurers separately when seeking a health insurance policy. Ask them the necessary questions about policy options and always be sure that you're speaking with them in person and not through a computer. Via email or their website is not a good enough option if you really need to know about your coverage. Shop around different providers if you do have health problems that could be considered a risk for them to insure. Insurance company requirements vary and if you take the time to shop around, you may find that you are not high risk through one company but that you are through another. When you're admitted to a hospital, expect a great deal of documentation from your health insurance company as well as all the other people and groups who may have treated you. Although it can be bewildering, please make the effort to thread your way through the insurance bill details so that you can be completely sure you understand what you were charged for. This way if something was not covered to your satisfaction, you will be able to identify it and call it out to the health insurance company for follow-up. The world of health insurance is not for the faint of heart. There are a lot of obstacles to avoid and knowing some great tips to navigate the system can make a huge difference in the end result. Now that you have those great tips from this article, you can make sure that you are covered and covered well.

[disneyfoodblog2]

Make an effort the Disney Meals and Wine Pageant for a Extraordinary Eating Treat

reservations at disneyland From all the certainly fun things to help do inside Georgia, at the major of much of our too-do list year after year is actually the Disney Foods and Wine Festivity, normally running with late September to help you early November. Inside 2013 they definitely will start Sept. 35, and yes it will function through November. 10. It is made from about 30 kiosks located at a Epcot world present, each kind have representing that unique foodstuff because of their individual region. It does acquire confusing, especially in the course of the weekends, nonetheless all of this collections move especially quickly.

reservations at disneyland

A person's most significant issue is to come to a decision what lands people want to pay a visit to, simply because even in the event that you overeat, that you just probably will, everyone won't have the capacity to try even all around the whole thing. Portion styles can be small, but nonetheless much bigger than bite-size. It truly is probably best so that you can begin making the application a more as opposed to one day working experience.

One among some with the food avenues are a lobster in addition to seafood fisherman's cake in Eire (plus of study course Guinness, the favored Irish dry stout), Completely new Zealand's lamb meatball with hot and spicy tomato chutney, along with coming from South Photography equipment seared filet involving meat with mashed wonderful potatoes together with braai sauce. The fee distances for those things tend to be in the $4 to $6 wide variety, with some associated with the consume objects usually using a modest more, depending concerning sizing and excellent. Most are mini-portions, however , you can obtain enough in a wonderful culinary knowledge. Designed for a more broad look at just what there seems to be to provide in 2012, go to the disneyfoodblog2012-epcot-food-and-wine-festival and additionally click on your World Present Business tasting booths. This will give most people a finished essentials on international locations, nutrition and fees.

A kiosks for Epcot are the most in-demand part of a wine in addition to meals festival, however is not all of. There are personal unsecured dining experiences along with renowned chefs, vino seminars and cooking demonstrations, and what exactly they call "Eat to the Beat" show series, of which includes every night activities by open highly successful people. We have i went to the Party within the Senses, which is normally solely offered upon Saturdays, and this is quite a good foods extravaganza. Nonetheless come to be advised this it might get fairly costly. There's lots of far more to choose out of, but they also do provide out and about quite speedily, thus don't delay through to the last-minute.

A good couple of tips that I would likely supply: first, tempo your own self. After anyone have been generally there a few intervals you will possess an understanding of at which you need to go to be able to find a person's ancient favorites. However , if perhaps you stop in every last booth of which you are consumed by, you'll never help make it half-way round. The second can be to find a pay as you go card from Client Services, and you'll at all times get it refilled at the booths. However you will become making quite a few modest purchases, and you just unquestionably don't would like to get bogged down by using coping with cash or simply personal credit playing cards. A particular swipe from the credit card along with you can proceed back to merrily eating and consuming around the society.

[castillolandscaping]

Tips to Help You with Your Next Tree Service in Los Angeles

It would help if you kept in mind that you would employ individuals to work in your yard while searching for tree service in Los Angeles. You may be hiring them to cut down a gorgeous shade tree that you’ve gotten connected to, but because they’re the ones dealing with the trees, you need to pick someone who comes with a good recommendation. When you ask your friends or family for suggestions, be sure to inquire about the responsiveness and professionalism of the businesses they recommend. Do not contact that business if you have heard any horror tales about employees who were impolite or late for appointments.

Check Your Insurance Policy

Los Angeles residents thinking about scheduling a tree service for the next year may be startled to hear that annual visits aren’t required. This is because many plans have a cap on the total amount you may collect for any tree. Some services will refund you for the full value of the tree, while others may only pay you half. Get in touch with your insurance provider to learn your policy’s coverage specifics.

Call another firm and ask the same questions if the first one’s responses are ambiguous or if you need to know the answer. Review their claims with the information provided by your existing employer. Address any inconsistencies with your insurance company to see if they will make changes. One never knows when the time may come to submit a claim; having this information on hand will be invaluable.

Know Your Tree Before You Hire a Tree Service in Los Angeles

There is a lot to consider before picking up the phone and dialing the number of a tree service in Los Angeles when you need a tree cut. It’s important to get a thorough understanding of the tree’s condition, not simply its species, before committing to a service. Is this tree so young that it just reaches your waist? A much larger and more ancient one? Palm tree, perhaps? Is something related to pine trees? For example, if you have a Japanese maple or an oak in your yard, you need to take extra precautions to protect them from harm, so knowing what kind of tree you have is crucial.

Check the health of your tree next. Are there generally positive signs of health? Is it more prone to injury in certain places than others (maybe due to frail limbs)? The professionals who arrive to give you an estimate will be able to identify by looking at the tree and whether or not it is healthy enough to withstand the treatment without causing any damage.

Understand What’s Worth Saving and What Isn’t

In Los Angeles, if you require a tree service in Los Angeles, it’s probably because your tree is sick or injured. You probably already know that you need to have it cut down since it is either leaning and poses a threat to your home or vehicle, has been struck by lightning and is split and rotting at the top, or has just grown too tall and thick for you to handle on your own safely.

So, the question is: what should it be? Whether or not to remove a tree from a landscape is seldom as straightforward as “is the tree worth saving?” You may make a better choice with more knowledge about the tree and its condition. One of the most crucial roles of trees is their involvement in stabilizing soil, which they do by giving shade, collecting carbon dioxide and releasing oxygen, and protecting us from erosion. By keeping dirt in place with their roots, they help avoid landslides.

Consider How Much You’ll Spend When You Hire a Tree Trimmer

The other consideration in setting a fair price for tree service in Los Angeles is covering your and your staff’s salaries. Think about how much of the company’s income will be used for salaries. Think about the hidden expenses of recruiting workers and running a firm, such as insurance and licenses. Include in the costs of running your company the pricing you set for your tree service. Supply costs, equipment costs, tax costs, and advertising costs will all add up to a hefty monthly expense. Also, think about how probable you will need to invest in new staff shortly. A high enough fee for your service should allow for these contingencies.

Contact us today at (818) 351-1401 for more information. When you need yard work, tree service, and lawn maintenance in Los Angeles, call Castillo Landscaping and Tree Services. We can help you with all your needs from start to finish, from tree trimming to tree removal, if you have any questions or concerns. You’ll be glad you called us for all your tree services in Los Angeles.

[oftenderweapons]

Cue, She | MYG

Pairing: Yoongi x reader (nicknamed Kitten)

Wordcount: 3.9k

Genre: meetcute, strangers to lovers, romance, idol!AU

Rating: 16+ (Some allusions, swearing)

Warnings: swearing, mentions of Yoongi’s injury and past struggles. Yoongi is just a scaredy floof who tries to play bold in this one. There’s a little teaser of an unreleased story YAY

A/N: I AM DONE WITH EXAMS!!!!!! BACK TO WRITING YAYAYAYYYY!!!!!! Posting might intensify since Yoongi’s Small Town Swoons needs urgent updates! Also, thanking @joheunsaram and @nervous-moon for pre-reading and beta-reading. You’re my strongest reassurance.

As usual, here is my masterlist! Enjoy!

Yoongi was always nervous when he needed to discuss contracts.

A part of him was still stuck on selling his songs for barely enough to pay for production. His brain was already calculating how many copies he would have to sell to pay for booking a recording room, producing the track, paying for the rented equipment and if he would be able to make a living with it — how many weeks of food he would be able to afford, how much extra he could give his parents. And then he started wondering whether he would be able to sell that many copies, if enough people would like whatever shit he would make.

He stared at his shoes.

He realised he was wearing more than one million wons in the form of chunky trainers. He realised that if he sold his shoes and told the potential buyers they were his own and that he had worn them for a couple days, then he would be able to get enough money to buy half the equipment in his studio, probably.

He looked at the classy decor of the office he was in.

He was no longer a beggar. Though his shoulder reminded him something different.

He was still the kid who had to bike around town to pay for his mixtape. That’s what kept him so hungry, so eager. That’s why he was someplace where he would make sure he was paid one single won more than what he thought he should deserve.

As usual he was greeted by a sleek, middle-aged receptionist telling him that his trusted lawyer — the owner of the firm, of course — was ready to meet him. Next he and Sejin were met by a line of standing employees who waited for him to pass by. He could see them complaining about his silver spoon, of him being so young and having already earned ten times what they made in thirty years of service to the firm.

And then the big office. And the big boss.

Yoongi was simply intimidated by it all. Although he craved to be a tiger in that moment, he wasn’t much more than a stray cat stumbling in a castle, hoping for the cooks to take him in only to end up becoming the king’s pet.

“Mr. Min,” the director said warmly and reverently.

“Good morning. I’m sorry for coming in at such an early hour, but I thought the sooner, the better.”

“Absolutely. We might as well discuss your contract with BigHit first. I have an expert coming in for your copyright agreement for the collaboration.”

Yoongi was a little dumbfounded. He didn’t like having new people dealing with his most prized possessions. “I hope they’re reliable.”

“My most trusted, no less.”

Yoongi sat. The contract was something ordinary, boring. No extraordinary details, no news except more recognition for his lyrics and production. His percentage on earnings made by his songs for BigHit and BTS had increased by one percent — which is considerable, given how much each song made. He was overall content. He couldn’t complain at all. He was reassured by little victories, they were always the steadier, most reliable ones.

He was relieved when the discussion was over, but his freedom was short-lived. “About the song, now.”

Yoongi sat back against the designer chair — an awfully uncomfortable one, of course. He sighed. “Of course.”

The man buzzed the intercom. “She can come in now.”

Yoongi arched an eyebrow. A woman? He did not have a bias, but it was indeed extremely rare to find a woman in this field — especially when it was about discussing rights and contracts in the music business.

The door opened but he did not stand up or turn around. He didn’t like meeting new people in places he didn’t feel safe. It was a defense mechanism, he glued himself to the black leather chair and hoped he would successfully turn into a chameleon.

The feeling strengthened when the woman sat down in front of him.

“This is ____, my daughter,” your father said. You weren’t yet used to seeing him act as the owner, meeting all his most relevant clients and discussing cases with him. “She came back from the States a couple months ago and I’ve been carefully mentoring her. She has genuinely profound knowledge on copyright and intellectual ownership. I wouldn’t want to gloat, but I’m really proud of her. She found her talent.”

You felt your cheeks heat up just lightly when your father was done introducing you. “Thank you. Now, onto discussing business,” you murmured, vaguely embarrassed.

Wow. That was when Yoongi met your eyes for the first time. He liked your voice. He loved it. It was feminine and soothing and crepuscular. It was made for moonlight breeze and serenades. It wasn’t like honey, sweet, or girlish. It was full, if slightly raspy. It reminded him of amber.

If whiskey had a voice, it would be yours. If his cologne had a voice, it would sound just like you.

He was mesmerised.

He nodded at your cues, following the sound of your words rather than their meaning. “Considering the entity of your fanbase, your expertise, the duration of your career and your international awards, I think we can still tip the scale in your favour. Signing this contract would be by far too generous — naively so. And he would access the market here, while you don’t need him to access the market there. Your office can still push the percentage by two or three points. I would dare even more, but I don’t know their person well enough, I’ll admit.”

You had managed to make the snake come out. He had been curled up in his nest for long enough, waiting, listening. He seemed to be trying to look invisible, as if he weren’t the precise reason you were all gathered there. He seemed like the child everyone is fussing about at the hospital while he’s simply sitting down with his forearm bandaged up, confused and worried.

Now he was leaning forward, his finger pointing dangerously close to yours. “So you say… this is where their terms are off in your opinion. Correct?”

His voice had come out deeper than he intended.

He watched your finger slide just a millimeter away. He hesitated.

“Correct,” you confirmed after clearing your voice. You could feel goosebumps down your spine, struggling not to clench your legs. What had he done to you?

Yoongi observed your reaction, the way you fixed your stance, tucked your hair behind your ear and fixed your clothes nervously.

Had he flustered you? The ice queen? He checked if his supposition was right.

“So there is evidence — numbers, that prove that I should be asking for more?”

From the way you licked your lip and averted your gaze, Yoongi knew he was affecting you.

How, he didn't know.

“Your company should be able to provide them. You can bring them numbers, prove that you're the stronger party but negotiate to achieve only a morsel of the privilege you're entitled to. So that you keep being the good guy, they know not to toy with you, and they understand you're street smart and they'd better not play tricks on you.”

Yoongi liked the way you thought. He knew asking for too much would be counterproductive, and after all, you had given Sejin good points to work on.

“What do you think?” you asked him.

“I think the current contract is still acceptable, but Miss ____ made a point. And you know what I think about your mentality,” the older man replied.

Yoongi nodded to himself. “I think we'll see how much we can get. Thank you for explaining all the documents,” Yoongi smiled delicately.

It was like a speckle of light in a very dark room. It was there for half a second, and maybe you were hallucinating, but it was there. It was right there, before your eyes, just for you.

He was desperately trying to find a reason to see you again. “Would you draft… I know you’re not a secretary, but would you mind drafting a correction letter?” He turned to Sejin, “I believe we can find data and have it sent to you.” He looked at you again. “Or I can have that done by the marketing—”

“I’ll do it,” you replied quickly. “I’d rather have the data sent by today or tomorrow, so we can act timely.”

Yoongi nodded. “Sure. You can draft the document, and then we can confirm it with the marketing specialists. I hope it’s not too much of a bother.” He loved watching you get flustered and accommodating at the same time. “I’d rather be done for today,” he excused himself. “We’ll hold the official signing at the firm with Bang PD. We’ll see you there, I assume,” he told your father. He had a relaxed look on his face, but still businesslike.

“Sure. I hope our services were worthy of your time, Mr Min,” he said obsequiously.

You were not ready to stand up. Your legs were shaking. You were working for Min Yoongi. For Suga of BTS.

You were—

“I believe I didn’t catch your name,” he murmured as he stood up. He would have cheered for leaving the uncomfortable chair, but he was too caught up on not losing traces of you.

You blinked. “Oh, I didn’t introduce myself, I’m ____.”

His voice had to be oceans deep when he bowed a little and said, “Pleased to meet you.”

He watched you bow in reply, hesitating a little before standing up. Maybe you were injured. Considering your attire — and the shoes he’d noticed you wearing through the glass table — maybe you had something wrong with your ankle.

You grabbed the edge of the table and pulled yourself to your feet — painfully. He was dangerous.

So, so dangerous. “I’ll wait for the data. Goodbye.”

Sejin left first, with a deep bow, Yoongi hesitating. Could he— No. He was too busy.

What the hell had he been thinking?!

Suddenly he turned sad. “Goodbye.”

And he left.

There was a bunch of wrong things he’d done. This might be one of the wrongest. “Jeongguk-ah.”

He walked closer to the maknae, currently sprawled all over the sofa in a t-shirt and loose pajama pants. He looked bamboozled. “Hyung?”

“Can I borrow your Instagram?” He hoped that maybe… maybe someone like you would have something like that. After all, you had the kind of allure that girls with social networks have. And furthermore you had studied in the US. People are obsessed with social networks there.

He already felt too old.

“What do you need to do with my instagram?”

He shrugged. “I need to look up a name.”

“Who? A crush?!�� Jeongguk sat up. “Oh my god, hyung!”

Yoongi’s shoulders slouched. “No. I just met someone today. I don’t have Instagram, but I think she has a profile there. Maybe.” He stretched his hand out.

Jeongguk clutched his phone harder. “Give me the name.”

Yoongi huffed out. He muttered it half heartedly.

Jeongguk blinked. “Excuse me, I didn't quite catch that, could you repeat?” His smile was outright sardonic.

Namjoon came in just in time. Yoongi turned, hoping he would find a supporter. “Namjoonie, can you lend me your instagram, please?”

Namjoon patted his pockets while chuckling. “You can borrow my phone, with instagram in it. You sound like my dad. Why do you need that?”

“Hyung has a new girlfriend!” Jeongguk exclaimed, jumping from the sofa.

Yoongi rubbed his face. “It’s just someone I met— Holy shit, what is that!?”

Namjoon stopped and pulled his suit jacket back on. “Nothing.”

“Why are you shirtless?”

“It was an accident.” Namjoon looked away. “She didn’t mean to— It doesn’t matter. Take the ph— oh.” He paused. “Oh no.”

Yoongi tried to grab it but Namjoon lifted it off his reach, reading something before the screen went black.

“Dead battery.”

“Just tell me the name!” Jeongguk protested.

“She’s ____.” Yoongi grumbled.

Jeongguk typed it in with a victorious grin, waiting for a profile to pop up. Namjoon also waited, wrapping himself up in his jacket.

“Does she show up?”

Yoongi tapped at one, then went back, tapped at another. Analysed the picture. It had to be you.

“I think it's her.” Yoongi checked the old pictures. Most of them weren't set in Korea. “It's her.”

“She has a tattoo!” Jeongguk said, stealing the phone to show the tattoo to Namjoon.

He observed it for a little before he started exploring the older pictures.

Wow.

“She’s beautiful,” Namjoon stated.

Yoongi nodded. “A damn queen. God, look at this.” You in a thrifted Notorious B.I.G. shirt, sunglasses lowered to expose a ‘step off, peasant’ glare, eyeliner perfectly winged, lips clad in a crimson shade. Next one offered an even cockier expression, middle finger out, mouth agape. And then the last one, you caught midlaugh, eyes closed, head thrown back, exposing the column of your throat.

Yoongi was speechless. “We’re too busy with promotion.” That was the only excuse he kept clinging to.

“I don’t know, hyung. I would say a woman like that beats any excuse.” Jeongguk kept scrolling. You had a thing for black apparently.

Namjoon looked at Yoongi. He could see his resolve crumbling. “Do it, hyung. She doesn’t seem taken. Oh, wow.” Black silk slipdress, an hibiscus in your hair, your back naked, showing your tattoo, a drink in your hand as the sun set on the beach behind you.

“I think he’s not really here, mentally,” Jeongguk told Namjoon.

That was indeed true.

Yoongi was drinking in every detail he could infer from every picture in your profile. They weren’t that many, but they were quality.

Yoongi stared at the phone. “I shouldn’t even give it a go. She’s a woman. I’m a scrawny boy and what would—”

“Oh, shut up. If you’re too scared to do it, just say it. Don’t pretend you don’t stand a chance.” Namjoon shook his head. “I know an excuse when I see one.”

Yoongi clicked his tongue. Jeongguk chased their exchange. “Give it a chance, hyung. The worst that can happen is that she turns you down. Nothing tragic.”

“Or that she eats me whole and I ruin a perfectly efficient, fruitful work connection.”

“She doesn’t look like a praying mantis,” Namjoon commented distractedly. Yoongi had taken the phone and was scrolling more privately. “Take a risk. It ended up quite well for me.”

“No, it didn’t.” Yoongi turned around.

Namjoon rolled his eyes. “It’s rolling. We’ll see how it goes.”

“You have the perfect girlfriend, but you’re keeping her as a fuck buddy,” Yoongi sentenced abrasively. “Don’t think we haven’t noticed.”

Namjoon sat on the sofa. It was not a conversation he wanted to have. “It’s not the current topic.”

“Now it is.” Yoongi sat beside him. “We all liked her. Why do you keep her at arm’s length?”

Namjoon shrugged. “We’re busy. She’s busy, I don’t want her to commit if I can’t commit.”

Yoongi rolled his eyes. “You say you can’t commit but you’re possessive, you bared your teeth at Taehyung for playfully flirting with her. And you can’t keep your hands off her.”

“She had some fluff on her cardigan.”

“Twelve times?”

Namjoon snared.

“I don’t care. What about that girl? What will you do?”

Yoongi decided to let him be. Namjoon was probably already half trapped in his head, analysing every second of the last three hours. “We’re meeting again. I asked her to draft me a document so I could see her again, as a last resort. I don’t know.” He combed his hair back.

“You will know, hyung.” Jeongguk sat down and offered two beers to his friends.

Yoongi nodded. “I felt it. I think I felt the attraction the very moment I saw her. And as the meeting went on I kept getting more and more confused. Her voice sounds so good.” He took a sip. “I think she felt it too. It was… electric.”

“Give it a couple days.” Namjoon suggested.

You couldn’t rest on your seat. He would be coming in any minute now. You watched him coming in through the glass wall. He was alone this time. You stood and fixed your hair self-consciously. “Good morning, Mr. Min.”

“Good morning, and please, call me Yoongi. It keeps me humble.” He smiled in a secret and mysterious fashion. You felt your lips shape into a smile too.

“Then, Yoongi, I have drafted the document. Thank you for sending me the data so readily. This is my proposal. You can discuss it with your marketing and business department.” You turned the printed sheet towards him. He observed your choice in words, your writing style. He noticed it was pragmatic. The requests were written functionally — no misunderstandings. “It’s the Korean translation. I will need to certify that the English and Korean versions are perfectly aligned, but first let’s approve the general lines of the proposal.”

“You wrote it in English?”

“You’re working with an American company. It’s better if they receive a document they’re familiar with. No miscommunication. And I’m used to the American way.” You chuckled and shrugged.

Oh, he liked you chuckling. He propped his elbow on the table and leaned his chin into his hand, quickly rereading the text. “I like it.” He paused. “Do you think they’ll agree?”

“They’ll probably try to bargain over the percentage, but I’d give up one percent, tops. They have the ugly tendency to squeeze everything out of artists. That’s why I’m back in Korea. They’re sharks over there, no brains.”

Yoongi had to agree. He was interested.

This, he thought, this needs to be the chance. “I’d love to know more about that. Would you like to discuss that over some coffee? Or a drink of your choice,” he added with a blush on his cheeks, hiding in between his shoulders.

You cocked your head to the side, a pleased smile on your face. Did he mean…?

“Sure!” You didn’t even think about it. Strengthening ties with Min Yoongi would be a huge leap for your career — and a great chance of getting to know his market better.

But probably you just wanted to spend time with an enigmatic man, trying to decipher him, talk about something interesting for a while. Do something different other than listening to graduated lawyers talking about wedding rings and kids and their husbands or fiances being several different shades of shitty. Or the superficial drinking, clubbing, hooking up with anyone. You wanted something that felt real, educational, new. “Are you free this Friday?”

Yoongi stuttered. He didn’t expect you to actually get into it. He didn’t even expect you to say yes. “We’re rehearsing for a show, but I think I’ll be free after ten pm. Or around seven am.”

You chuckled a little breathy laugh. “I know the perfect place. Privacy, good whiskey, good music. Quiet enough to conversate. I’ll send you the address. Friday, say… ten thirty?”

Yoongi was ready to leave his body. “Ten thirty. Friday. Send me the address.”

You laughed. He was so bamboozled. “I’ll need your phone number, Yoongi.”

He stared, hesitated. “Right. But I must tell you my schedule is very hectic.”

“And you had time to come here when I could talk to your management team?” You propped your chin on your palm, leaning forward only to watch him sink back into himself even more.

“I wanted to see you,” he said, with the lowest, deepest voice he could muster. From the way your shoulders shifted, he knew he had done something. He mirrored your position, faking bravado. “You still want my number?” He took the sticky notes sitting close to you, sliding them across the table while he still looked into your eyes. “Pen?”

It took you a second to register. You were busy looking at his fingers. Damn, those were really nice hands.

Snapping out of it, you grabbed a pen and offered it to him.

He scribbled down his number. “This would have been easier if you just gave me your phone. I would have typed it in for you,” he murmured as he wrote. “And I would have rung my phone so I would have had your number too.”

“Not everything is easy,” you taunted. “Especially lurking on someone’s Instagram without accidentally leaving a like. I figure your friend BiscoBunny must be related.”

Yoongi sneered. Jeon Jeongguk.

“He has a private profile, but he accepted my follow request. It was rather easy to recognise you in some of the pictures.” You were wearing a cheshire grin as you stole his pen and scribbled down your own number on his copy of the document. “Tell him to be more careful next time.”

Yoongi’s face got very, very red. He simply took the paper and folded it, placing it in his inner pocket. “I will. So… Friday?”

“Friday.” You confirmed.

He stood up awkwardly. “Goodbye…”

You stood up too. “Goodbye.”

He was on the doorstep when you called him.

“Yoongi?”

He turned.

“I’m very happy you asked for that draft. I’m glad you stopped by today.” Your tone was quiet. “Maybe you could be a darling and bring me some coffee next time, though.”

Next time? “How do you take it?”

Your smile was flirty. “Americano. Iced, one milk, no sugar.”

Just like his. Yoongi took it as one of those signs Jeongguk always talks about. “Iced, one milk, no sugar,” he repeated. He nodded to himself. “Have a nice day, ____.” He knew his voice was soft and sweet.

From the way your gaze melted a little, he knew you felt it. “You too, Yoongi.”

He typed your number on his phone on the lift. He checked it was actually yours.

When your kakao profile appeared, he felt relieved. He almost wanted to text you, just to say he got the number added. You texted him first.

It was a GPS location.

See you on Friday :)

He stared at the text.

See you :) And sorry I used the draft to see you again.

Next time just ask me out ;)

It took him half the taxi ride to think how to reply. Then, he decided to be bold.

If I had asked you out on our first encounter, would you have agreed?

You read the text twice.

My dad was there. I’m not sure how he would have taken it.

Your reply was evasive enough.

Would you have said yes or no?

You let him grovel for a full hour, focusing on your job and waiting for your lunch break to reply.

Yes.

Yoongi read your text two hours later, after the gym. He was typing when you added,

Next time don’t ask me to make you papers if you just want to see me. Just ask me out, you scaredy cat.

He grinned.

Next time I’ll just bring you coffee, watch you work for a few minutes and then leave.

You giggled at his reply. Min Yoongi was indeed a very interesting human being.

[alienaiver]

Half the Battle, pt. 1

Kuroo Tetsurou x gn!reader

find part two here!

warnings: slight angst about childhood/parents fighting/divorce, one (1) bottle of wine is opened, someone is betrayed in Mario Party, NOT beta-read! apologize for any mistakes! (lmk if there’s any warnings i missed!)

wordcount: 5.5k

content: soulmate AU, mild angst, fluff, post-timeskip but slight canon divergence (i haven’t read the manga yet so this is loosely based off of their canon timeskip lives), gender neutral reader, reader is a video editor, reader is bad at eye contact but the details as to why are vague/up for interpretation!

notes: this was made for @gg9183 ​ ‘s wonderful birthday event, a soulmate collab! (go read the other wonderful works!) happy birthday once again, gray!! this was meant to be a 2k one shot but.... plans and inspiration changes sometimes, right? 🥺 so this ended up as a 5k part ONE lmfao i hope thats alright w u!!! part2 will be up asap, i promise!! i hope you enjoy this!!!! 

—————————

Not meeting his soulmate was fine, Kuroo often found himself thinking. The odds of finding your soulmate’s way too low to be realistic anyways, he supported the thought. It’s illogical to spend so much time fretting about it, he finally added for good measure.

Soulmates were a natural part of life, always had been. But with the big wide world filled with over seven billion people, meeting yours wasn’t completely unheard of. But given the powers of soulmates even existing, it wasn’t unrealistic to also believe that some kind of fate would pull you towards each other throughout your lives so that you would meet each other. Kuroo however, prided himself in not caring about soulmates. His life was rich enough. People explaining their feelings about “something being missing until they finally meet them” was incomprehensible to him.

Kuroo had lived for 29 years without being able to see color. And you know what? His life was damn well fulfilling enough. He had a beautiful apartment, an economy that flourished, an adorable cat named Cucumber and good people around him. What would he really need a soulmate for? He could ignore his friends comments on how wonderful the world was in color, if only he would just start looking for his soulmate, how much meaning it gave life. Just because the people in his closest circle had all magically met theirs – not to mention how many of them had already met in Goddamn high school, Kuroo scoffed and was always able to move on.

Even though a lot of people actively made eye contact with everyone they met, even people on the street, to make sure they would meet their soulmate, Kuroo kept his eyes down. He wasn’t insecure, come on, he was perfectly happy! He just didn’t need to be late for a meeting because he got eye contact with some stranger, you know?

His life was in perfect balance as is.. Until yesterday, of course. It had turned out there was mold in his apartment complex so they had to evict it for a month while a crew would go through everything to remove it. He didn’t want to go to his mother’s place, that was too far from his work, but he wasn’t in the mood for a hotel, that was way too expensive, so he turned to his best friend of many years with the biggest set of puppy eyes he could muster and the prospect of making every dinner while he lived there.

“Fine… but don’t get in the way,” was all Kenma had to say.

And so Kuroo spent his last weekend in his own apartment packing things down to make it accessible to the cleaning crew. Cucumber hated other cats with a passion so he couldn’t bring him to Kenma’s, where three cats already happily lived, so his mother would pick him up tomorrow afternoon.

__

He sat on his couch, scrolling his phone mindlessly with Cucumber on his lap who had been stressed with all the packing down, sensing something was up. He was being extra cuddly towards Kuroo who, honestly? Didn’t mind at all. He loved when Cucumber was in mood for cuddles, though it wasn’t very often. He had been told his cat was orange and while he didn’t have a measure for what that color actually looked like, he was happy with his gray cat.

His mother was supposed to arrive any minute now, so he should have gotten up and put the cat in his carrier but it was easier to get him in it if you had two pair of hands. He scrolled through Instagram, reaching a photo put up by Tsukishima of his soulmate, the light-haired manager of their high school volleyball club, with a tooth-eating grin on her face and proudly showing off a ring on her finger, the caption said, This smile makes me wanna brag. Kuroo could physically hear the provocative tone of his voice, knowing he was one of the first in his circle of friends to actually plan a wedding. Kuroo clicked his tongue with a smile on his face and double-tapped to like the picture.

He didn’t know if it was the combination of that post and the fact that his mother was on her way but memories of his parent’s wedding flooded his mind. For a lot of people, weddings felt obsolete in the face of the whole “you already got your soulmate and you know this” thing, so a lot of couples were happy not getting married but just being together. But there was also the benefits of marriage in the practical sense, so some people did anyways, some hosting parties, some not. His parents weren’t married when he came to, but after he turned five they decided to do it so he would be protected by both of them, in case of any emergency.

It had been a small wedding, only the closest family and friends but Kuroo was vivid, so excited about being part of that whole romantic ordeal, even helping his mom find a dress and everything. He had been a huge and important part of the wedding – if he did say so himself. Everyone had been glowing at the day, the food was delicious, there was laughter, song and cheers and everyone had brought so many presents – even some for little Tetsurou, who had been very excited about his new train tracks.

But when Kuroo was seven years old, it wasn’t as romantic anymore. His parents were fighting a lot, he wasn’t entirely sure why or about what because they would never tell him about it, no matter how much he asked. When he tried to listen in, the words he heard didn’t explain anything to him because even though they were yelling at each other, the important words were always whispered, as if they knew Kuroo was listening in.

When he was eight his mom had come into his room, hugged him and with tears in her eyes and said that they were going to move away.

“Where are we going?” he asked simply, no emotion to be read on his little face. He was exhausted from his parents being this way – they were soulmates, right? Why did they fight like that?

“To Tokyo, just you and me, my love.”

That’s when he met Kenma. He had been very closed-off and shy back when they met, he reminisced. He had been a regular kid when he was younger but the way his parents split up – his soulmate parents – had closed him off pretty bad, so it was a miracle he met Kenma and started opening up again.

Kuroo smiled to himself bitterly before scratching Cucumber’s ear. He supposed this was also why he wasn’t interested in his soulmate. So many people had romanticized the whole soulmate ideal so a lot of people forgot that relationships still took work, took effort and just because they were made for each other, didn’t necessarily guarantee that they would stay together. His mom and dad didn’t officially talk anymore, but when he asked his mom as a child whether or not she still saw color, she said that she did. He also found long letters in her bedroom when he was nine, letters from his dad, so he supposed they still talked together, though Kuroo wasn’t let in on it – nor was he particularly interested. And he definitely we wasn’t interested in ending up in a relationship with someone who would end up not wanting to put in the effort for the relationship to flourish.

After Cucumber had been picked up by his mom it was time to leave for Kenma’s place. He carried the last boxes of valuables down to his basement and locked them in before trekking down to the subway with his suitcase and sports bag.

_____

You were late for work, so you scrambled to pack your things. It was Wednesday afternoon and you were supposed to meet in at 3PM, because that was around the time that Kodzuken had planned to finish his recording, he told you yesterday. You were a video editor and had met Kenma through your old part-time job in his favorite convenience store quite a few years back, back when he had first bought his house when he was 24. You remembered talking to him about video games in the store since you also played some, and after a good while of polite customer service and talk about new games, you had started hanging out outside of work as well. When you had then told him you were actually a freelance video editor but just didn’t get many jobs, he had almost instantly hired you to do his YouTube videos for him and general editing and set-ups of his streams. I know video games, not recording equipment, he had told you so many years ago.

Your original thought had been wary, because working for a friend might get messy but Kenma cared a lot about keeping it professional when you were on the clock, which you appreciated very much. In his house, down by his game room, there was a room next door with screens and all the best editing software just for you to play with. Your pay was higher than average for such a “simple” but regular gig but when prompted about it, he simply shrugged and told you it wasn’t up for negotiation and no one was being treated unfair – and who were you to go against such a good pay for a job that you loved doing and wanted to do full-time? With Kenma being a famous streamer and gamer, he often made lots of different videos for various sites so your job hours resembled a nine to five job, easy, even if the hours were off from the more conventional jobs and you usually came in later in the day and sometimes finished off late in the evening – some of his videos had a time limit for a release date of a game, so there was also days where you were extremely busy and scrambling to get the video done right for a release of a game.

As you closed your bag and ran out the door towards the subway, you checked your phone for any updates. If he’d finished early, he would’ve texted you about it, so you put your phone in your pocket and hurried towards his house.

When you arrived you immediately rang the doorbell before catching your breath, you were used to Kenma spending a few minutes before reaching the door and opening it, so when the door opened almost instantly you took a step back before looking up. The one opening the door was taller than Kenma and in a loose dress shirt that was unbuttoned at the top - that’s all you saw before your eyes darted down to your feet.

“...Hi! I’m uh… Where’s Kenma?” was all you got out while fidgeting with your purse strap, it certainly wasn’t his boyfriend Hinata opening the door today.

“Oh, hey! You must be his video editor, right? He told me about you!” The man said, pointing to himself with his thumb,

“I’m Kuroo Tetsurou! Kenma’s childhood friend! Sorry to intrude, I’ll be living here for the next month, I promise not to get in your way!” As he finished his introduction, he moved aside so that you could enter. As you took off your shoes you heard Kenma’s feet shuffling towards you, “oh hey, welcome, you’re early,” Kenma said with his usual deadpan expression but you could clearly hear the teasing in his voice.

“At least I’m here now, right?” You smiled back, instantly relaxing at the sight of your boss and friend. You turned to Kuroo again, bowed and introduced yourself before taking off your coat and putting it on a hanger, while Kenma and the guy named Kuroo seemed to bicker a bit about whether or not Kuroo should answer the door while he lived there.

“I’ll go set it up, have you transferred the video files to the hard disk?” you asked Kenma as you moved towards ‘your’ office, sending Kuroo a polite smile while keeping your eyes on his neck.

Eye contact was hard for you, it always made you extremely uncomfortable and you didn’t really have any before you felt comfortable with the person. Your mother had often scolded you, saying you’d never find your soulmate at this rate, which you always acknowledged with a hum or a simple yes without starting a discussion.

You honestly weren’t sure whether or not you cared for a soulmate. Your biggest argument to wanting to find one was so that you could see colors, because it’d help your career. Kenma already had his soulmate, so he was the one deciding the color scheme for his videos and helped with the color-related editing, which worked fine as of now, but you would probably appreciate to be able to do it yourself. You had also spent some years coming to terms with your struggles with eye contact and accept that this was just how you functioned. If you missed your soulmate in a random supermarket thanks to it one day, well, you’d be none the wiser, so you felt sure you’d survive without one, but you also couldn’t deny that the sound of a soulmate sounded really nice and comforting. That someone out there existed to fit you, that you were born to love someone who was also meant to love you. You were sure that finding your soulmate wasn’t a dance on roses, it was sure to still be hard, frustrating and maybe even painful sometimes, but you also couldn’t just have all the good, there was a balance that was sure to exist within soulmates as well.

After hours of going through the raw footage from his video game play and slowly editing while watching it, you popped your shoulders and stretched your arms for a moment, yawning as you did so. Your hours were always a bit intense, but that couldn’t be helped when you had six hours of raw footage to work with. Looking at the clock you saw that it was 5.30PM which meant that soon Kenma would wake up from his pseudo-sleep (which was more like a nap in your opinion) to look at your process and ask what you wanted for dinner.

Soon after a soft knock was heard followed by the door opening slowly, Kenma standing in sweats and a hoodie with bags under his eyes, “do you like hotpot?” he asked, and you smiled at him, “sure, are you cooking tonight?” he yawned while he shook his head, “Kuroo is. He insists on a ‘fulfilling meal’, whatever that means.”

You giggled before beckoning Kenma in to see some of what you’ve done so far and making minor adjustments along the way. “Now, something smells delicious and I’m thirsty,” you stated after the two of you had talked a bit about the rest of the video’s plans. As you went towards the kitchen you could hear the sound of of a nameless tune being hummed, pans sizzling from something being cooked and kitchen utensils being used.

Inside, the table was already set with plates and prepared ingredients lying ready for the pot that Kuroo was just about to put on the table. It seemed he had made an endless supply of different side dishes and really put in a lot of work for it, so you looked really forward to eating it and it smelled delicious. You grabbed a glass from the set table and went to the sink to get some water and just as your hand reached it, Kuroo had extended his hand as well to the sink and you accidentally touched.

You both recoiled as if you had been burned and you couldn’t stop the gasp that accidentally left your lips. A feeling was rushing through your body you hadn’t experienced before and you immediately apologized to Kuroo and went back to the table, foregoing the water. You didn’t notice how Kuroo was frozen in place from when he touched you before Kenma called out to him and he immediately started moving again.

You ended up eating shortly after, Kuroo serving the food and talking animatedly about him and Kenma’s childhood, making you laugh quite a bit at their (or more, Kuroo’s) antics and their volleyball days. Kuroo was the type of person to make you relax in his presence and have fun which you didn’t even notice until you got home later that evening and really thought about what a great time you had had. You found yourself surprised by how easily you clicked with Kuroo, a total stranger. It must be his charm, you thought to yourself before going through your night routine. You had to come back tomorrow and finish work, after all. You estimated the video would take you a few more days to finish but that would end up fitting well with the weekend coming, so as you went to bed you felt yourself more relaxed than you had in a while.

_____

“What are they like?”

It was Friday and it seemed you had finished Kenma’s video and therefor you weren’t here for dinner – for the first time in a few days, which did let down Kuroo just a tiny bit. He had talked a lot with you during dinner preparations when you came out from the office and during dinner as well and while you did answer all his questions (which, he admitted, there were quite a few of them) and follow up with your own for him, it still felt… off… talking to you – and Kuroo didn’t like not knowing why. “What do you mean?” Kenma asked, taking another bite into his mouth.

Kenma swallowed a piece of meat before looking up at Kuroo who was stabbing his plate with his fork in what seemed like a useless purpose. He knew he was being a little weird but meeting you was weird, even though he had no reason to explain why.

“I mean, is this how they usually act?” He didn’t even know what that question meant or why he was even asking it, nothing made sense! But he had a desperate feeling that he needed to get to know you – he was afraid of what that implied and what suspicions he needed to hold onto, but he was sure it was his gut telling him you were dangerous for Kenma to be around – that had to be it! Kenma was his best friend, his childhood friend, it had to be a gut feeling meant to protect him!

“Who knows, they’re being more polite than usual, I think. But that makes sense,” Kenma replied calmly before adding, “I mean you are a stranger who’s really intent on being social with them over our dinners, they were a bit shy as well when I met them,”

Kuroo nodded and finally took a bite of his own food. He didn’t notice Kenma’s raised eyebrows or the questioning look that was sent his way, so Kenma decided to let the subject rest.

Not seeing you today felt weird to him too and he couldn’t help the irritation building up inside him – you had just met a few days ago and only in the evenings when he was done with work and ready to make dinner – and yet, the thought of you kept invading his mind. He had gotten through work today thinking you were going to be there for dinner so when he came home and found out you wouldn’t be there, the first seed of irritation had been planted – why was he suddenly looking so much forward to seeing you? Had it been like this yesterday too? Why was it suddenly important that you weren’t there? He ended up sitting in front of the laptop in the guest room for the rest of the evening, the document left open and completely untouched.

Kuroo, however, didn’t let the subject rest in his head for the rest of that evening. Hinata was in town, having time off after a big game yesterday so Kuroo was left to his own devices – which really wasn’t a problem considering he had to make the paperwork for a promotional deal for a meeting Monday morning that he had procrastinated making – which wasn’t like him at all, he usually never pushed assignments to last minute and he then realized the reason he wasn’t done yet was because he had spent so much time over the dinner table with Kenma and you, talking even after dinner had been done for a while. You always offered to help him with the clean-up so you also spent some time talking there, drifting off to various subjects far passing the cleaning duties and sitting down again with a glass of water.

He enjoyed your company, it felt... easy, somehow, the sensation that something was off was there but it didn’t really settle in his stomach until every time after you left, as if it was left to grow a bit from a small sensation to a problem, which worried him – Kuroo prided himself as an impeccable people-reader, he was captain for both the volleyball team in high school and college, he knew how to act around business relations so well because he could read them so flawlessly – so the feelings he got from you was unsettling and unreadable and it took some control away from him – and Kuroo always felt uneasy when he wasn’t in control.

____

Kuroo heard your name and almost got whiplash from how fast his head moved towards Kenma, “what?”

“I asked if we should invite them? To game night? Being three is a little annoying in Mario Party.”

“Oooh, that’s a good idea! I’d love to see them again!” Hinata happily exclaimed before taking another bite of the lasagna Kuroo had prepared tonight. It was Saturday and Kuroo had been in a daze the entire day, first at the office for a quick meeting with his boss about a potential partner he might be able to reel in soon and then doing his laundry at Kenma’s and continuing to try and make the stupid paperwork but ultimately failing before he had to make dinner.

“Isn’t it a bit late to invite someone? I mean, they could have plans already...” Kuroo tried, knowing what a pain it could be to be asked to something an hour before it happened and he didn’t want to let you go through that – that’s what he tried to tell himself, at least. In truth? He was a bit afraid of seeing you again, afraid of his potential reactions, since he had spent his entire Friday in a stupor just thinking about you. His thoughts didn’t mean much for Kenma and Hinata though, who was already texting you to ask.  “Oi, no phones at the table, have you parents taught you no manners?” Kuroo chided and Hinata immediately shrank back and apologized – Kuroo smirked, yea the Chibi-chan still had respect for his seniors. But he was quickly pulled back to thoughts about you by Kenma’s phone lighting up again, “they’ll be here in an hour. They’re asking if they should bring anything?” Kenma looked up to gauge Kuroo’s reaction, having noticed something about his friend had been off the past few days. He immediately made a funny grimace before turning it into a smile. “Yea, they can bring a bottle of white wine, if I have to beat you all at Mario Party, I would very much like to be a tiny bit buzzed,” Kuroo said, and Hinata looked at him with wide eyes, “you drink wine!? So grown up!” Hinata exclaimed, to which Kenma just muttered, “or just an old man…” Kuroo didn’t hear that though, too busy to fidget with his hands under the table, suddenly feeling nervous that you were showing up.

Hinata plopped down between Kuroo and you with a controller in hand, “I’m gonna beat you all in this Mario Kart!” to which you laughed loudly, “good luck since we’re playing Mario Party.”

“Huh? Is there a difference?” Hinata asked, making Kuroo belt out a loud laugh as well, holding his stomach, “you just told us you’d beat us but you don’t even know what we’re playing!” Kuroo couldn’t contain his laughter for a bit until he noticed how you were looking at him and instantly retracted his laugh, sitting up straight with a cough, and apologizing for being loud, which confused him to no end. He had never been self-conscious of his own laugh! He knew it could be obnoxious and loud, but he also liked it himself, and-

“That’s a really cute laugh.”

The comment earned you the stares of the century from the three other people in the room, with Kenma in genuine shock – he wouldn’t say he disliked Kuroo’s laugh, just that it was… special.

“Uhm… Uh. Thank you?” Kuroo could feel that his blush went all the way to his ears but he hoped that the light in the living room wasn’t bright enough to catch it. “Yeah uh! Sure! Mhm,” you awkwardly coughed a bit as well before reaching for your glass of wine.

You had brought a bottle of white wine for Kuroo on the promise that you’d get a glass too, saying he was your first friend who also liked wine. The word ‘friend’ had dumb-founded him and he’d just answered “you can have it all,” to which you had laughed and said it’s fine with half, you weirdo.

The game was about to begin but Kuroo was still sitting stuck on the fact that his laugh was cute – cute? Had anyone else found it cute before besides Bokuto and his mom? He wasn’t sure – he sure couldn’t pinpoint them right now anyways. He tried to shake it off and focus on the game, though quite a bit of time was spent explaining the rules to Hinata who apparently had thought they were just playing Mario Kart.

When you were 12 laps into it, it seemed that you were set to win with your four stars and 121 coins. Kenma was right behind you with three stars and Hinata and Kuroo had been left in the dust with zero stars. You had stolen Kuroo’s first (and only) star early in the game, so he was plotting his vengeance in quiet but was getting afraid that the game would end before he could do anything to you – but just as his hopes were at the smallest during the last round of the game, you were put in the same team as him in the last mini game.

Kuroo had a wide smirk when you cheered and said, “this’ll be easy then!” because no, it would not be easy for you. If he had to go down in order to take you down a notch, then so be it. He’d rather Kenma win than you did with stolen goods!

The last mini game was “Tow the Line” where two players were put in a sewing box shaped with nine dots as a grid and two players tied together with a string and the objective was to make the shape with the string as shown in the middle of screen. As soon as the whistle sounded, Kuroo lowered his hands and stopped using his controllers, all with a big grin on his lips.

“Kuroo, what the fuck! Get moving, we’ve started!” you yelled at him as Kenma and Hinata won the first round, signaling the next round began, Kuroo started whistling and looking away from the screen, to which you got up from your seat, “fine, I’ll just take your controller and do it myself!”

Kuroo put his arm with the controller behind him, “nah-ah-ah! You’re not winning this, fiend! That’s what you get for stealing my star!” He grinned up at you with his eyes closed as you stood with your hands on your hips, “come on man! I stole that star in the fourth round! Kenma stole a star from me as well!” you tried, “maybe he stole the one that was yours, who knows! Get over it so we can win!”

But as soon as you’d said that, the third round had just been won and you sighed and flopped down on your seat again, “not cool Kuroo, not cool. I’ll remember this!”

You both laughed as the game made ready to announce the winner, Kenma and Hinata entertained by your antics.

“You can’t avenge something that I avenged in the first place! I only did it because you did me wrong, you know!”

“You can’t use logic on me, it doesn’t apply!”

To no surprise, you won the entire game, even winning one of the two bonus stars given at the end of the game.

After the last sequence and a bow from you there was a quick break before you decided to play some Mario Kart for Hinata’s sake, since his argument was that he lost due it being Party instead. You played quite a few hours and after another toilet break you had switched places with Hinata so Kenma could cuddle up against him. You yawned, drinking the last of the wine in your glass and said, “I should head home, I have a friend coming over for lunch tomorrow.”

Hinata and Kenma both started to get up to say goodnight but you waved at them with a smile, “I can walk out myself, it’s fine!” But Kuroo had already gotten up from the couch as well, so you walked with him towards the hallway where you put on your shoes. There was a comfortable silence between the two of you, which Kuroo noted and scowled a bit - he might have only known you for less than a week but for some reason he felt like it had been a lot longer, like you were old friends – it felt strange, to be so close with a stranger. He didn’t know anything about you, really. He knew your name, your job and how you liked some of your vegetables and which meat was your favorite, he knew you also loved cats but didn’t have one (he couldn’t remember if he knew why) and he felt pretty sure he would recognize you in a crowded area – why it was so intense, he was unsure of, he hadn’t tried meeting someone this way before. It had also seemed like having this game night had made you considerably more relaxed in his presence, even joking around with him instead of being polite, which made Kuroo somewhat giddy, though it didn’t really make sense to him as to why.

“I hope you had fun,” Kuroo said awkwardly, as if he had been the host and scratched the back of his head.

“Yeah, I did! I’m sorry I stole your star, though,” you laughed, buttoning your jacket.

“Nah, no worries, as they say, all’s fair in love and war, right?”

You giggled and picked up your bag from the dresser while Kuroo opened up the door for you. As you exited, you turned around with a bright smile, “well, thanks for toni-”

Everything ended up a blur, too bright, too much, too noisy, too… colorful? Kuroo was still looking into your eyes as all that went through him, completely blindsided. As he took a proper look, he could see that you looked just as surprised as him, your eyes wide but still never leaving his either.

“Is… Is this? Are you? Is…” You asked after what felt like both days and milliseconds, I could stare at them so much longer, he thought to himself, the colors only making your face more clear to him. Had you really not had eye contact at all? Had you seen each other for several hours – more than a few times, without looking each other in the eyes at all? Kuroo was more baffled by this happening so late than the fact that it was happening.

He was about to say something, anything, when you promptly turned around, nervously yelling, “I-I uh, I gotta go! Goodbye!” as you hurried out of the driveway and down towards the subway.

“W-wait!” Kuroo belatedly and unhelpfully yelled out as you turned a corner, too late. You were gone. A hand was dragged down his face as a sigh left him, what the fuck had just happened? He obviously needed to talk to you about this, but he also needed to gather his thoughts about all of this, so he slowly closed the door and went back towards the living room, greeted by Hinata and Kenma who looked up at him curiously, “why did you yell?” Hinata asked with his head tilted.

“I think I just found my soulmate.”

[officialgritty]

How I Would Humble NHL Players

An essay written by bigboigritty. 

I would humble hockey players the only way I know how to, by sending them to Australia. Let’s suppose that they have decided to hold the All Star game over here (forget about it’s usual date) (forget that some players I have listed below might not be invited) (and while you're at it, please forget that Australia’s rinks are Not Good).

I think that they would suffer but in an entertaining way so it’s fine. 

First of all, their biggest concern is getting sunburnt. It would effect all of their dumb asses but I’m particularly worried about Pierre-Luc Dubois and Mitch Marner. Boys are practically translucent. Vince Dunn would be fine, he’d probably wear a shirt most of the time which is a very smart decision. 

You may wonder why I didn’t mention Nolan Patrick because I am a certified slut for him, well I don't think he would have a problem. He would spend most of the time inside and when he joins the others, I think his Virgo ass would reapply sunscreen. Maybe he would burn slightly but I don't think it'd be enough to make him uncomfortable. 

Another thing that I think they will gain from this experience is a higher pain tolerance. Now you’re probably thinking, “Zoe they are NHL players so they can handle pain.” Wrong.

Real pain is running barefoot on cement at theme parks while you race to get to the next ride. Also getting into the car and having to avoid touching every piece of metal to not get branded like a cow. Or better yet, when the heat gets so bad that there’s a black out because everyone has their air conditioning turned on.

Don’t get me wrong, I know that other countries have scary animals but I would pay to see them panic over ours. Crocodiles here can grow up to 5.2 metres / 17 feet. We have a box jellyfish season where it’s advised to avoid swimming or wear wetsuits for coverage. Funnel web spiders can survive underwater for hours by trapping air bubbles around their skin. We have several of the worlds deadliest snakes present across the country. 

Listen, I don't want anyone to get injured but the constant fear that they would have when doing anything would be enough to make me happy.

My biggest question is who would survive in the shady areas, who would survive the eshays?

Under no circumstances can you look them in the eyes or cross their path. They are not to be feared individually but in groups caution is advised. I think the players would attempt to assert dominance and that is simply not an option. You are better off to ignore the eshay.

Nolan would have no issues here if im being honest. He is big and I don't think they’d find it worth it to fuck with him. But you know who they would target? Matthew Tkachuk. “Where are you going pretty boy?” “Oi braa did we hurt your feelings ya pussy cunt?” They would make fun of his hair in particular. 

Travis Konecny would be an eshay. I don't think I need to make further comment. (So would Louis Tomlinson but I am not a 1D account and I will continue to repeat that until it’s true.)

I would also give them a few iconic tasks to get the true Australian experience. Activities for the ‘vacation’ include triathlon events, beach flags, bush walking and climbing the harbour bridge. They could attend a cricket match but they tend to like golf so unfortunately they would probably enjoy this :(

AFL is an extremely popular sport here and I think they would loose their shit when they learn the rules of this game. No protective equipment is used other than mouthguards, that's it. That’s all you get. And jumping onto other players for leverage is encouraged. I would thoroughly enjoy the fights that would break out because of this.

Another task would be to use a map to make their way to a servo for a slurpee. The catch is that they will be required to pass through multiple alleyways. Also, the season is Spring, it’s swooping season mother fuckers. Let’s see how brave you are when birds chase you down the block. Personally I don’t think any of them would pass this test, maybe McDavid because the birds may not be able to detect a heartbeat.

Australian food would disgust them, I just know it. Things that they would need to try are a Bunnings sausage sanga, fairy bread, lamingtons, baked beans on toast, Milo and Vegemite. Because I’m me I would give them no butter with their Vegemite. 

An after thought I had was money so I’m editing this to include it. Everything here is EXPENSIVE so they would need to learn how to budget. Upon doing research, Canadians would be fine but the Americans will be mad.

1000 CAD = 1019 AUD

1000 USD = 1297 AUD

Another after thought was the fact that they won’t be able to drive (or at least drive well) here. We drive on the left and not the right, same goes for walking paths too. I can sense a lot of them bumping into people.

Where I think players would live based on vibes alone:

Carter Hart and Vince Dunn: North Shore Beaches, NSW. Daddy’s money. Carter probably did Nippers whereas Vince was a skater boy. 

Travis Konecny: Darwin, NT. Would 100% live there and enjoy it. He would try to conduct crocodile tours but gets assigned to feeding the baby crocs and doing shows for little kids. 

Tyson Barrie: Perisher, NSW. One of the only ski resorts we have to offer, major friendly mountain man energy.

Nolan Patrick: Byron Bay, NSW. @antoineroussel enlightened me, steering away from my original thought of Katoomba, NSW. Byron Bay is a magnet for hippies and links rainforest to the ocean. Chris Hemsworth and his family also live there.

William Nylander: Perth, WA. I don’t know much about Perth other than they wouldn’t shut up about partying while the other states had to quarantine. For some reason, I also associate Perth with Tik Tok. 

Sidney Crosby and Connor McDavid: Melbourne CBD, VIC. These two would live in the same apartment building in the city, Connor one level above Sidney. It’s the most boring looking block of them all and Crosby would send in complaints to the landlord about McDavid pacing during the night.

Tyler Seguin: Surfers Paradise, QLD. Party central, not many people are actually from this area and he would be sure to tell absolutely everyone that he was. I also think he would get a Meter Maid tattoo, specifically on his leg. Has definitely slept on the beach before because he couldn’t find his way home.

Jamie Benn: Hobart, TAS. Tasmania is usually forgotten about. Another one with mountain man energy except he is more creepy than friendly.

Mitch Marner: Fitzroy, VIC. @antoineroussel is responsible for this one too. Hipster central, makes you question how the hell someone so young can have so much money. Would chug $45 wine and not blink an eye.

(honourable mentions include = Sammy Blais: Hobart, Tas. Once again no comment on Tasmania. TJ Oshie: Cairns, QLD. Would do reef tours. Haydn Fleury: Western Sydney, NSW. Haydn would 100% own a ute or a white holden commodore and you can’t tell me otherwise. Roman Josi: Adelaide, SA. Small town history teacher vibes.)

I have attached a handy map for those who may need it.

In conclusion, the NHL should send their players over here to teach them some manners and while they’re at it, management should bring themselves too. Nolan Patrick could pass as an Australian if he built up a tan. (So does Nylander in this picture but we won’t talk about that.) Come over anytime baby, I’m free. 

Glossary

Servo - A service station, also known as a petrol or gas station. Example: 7/11

Theme park - An amusement park. Can be said in reference to both normal parks and water parks and usually means those in QLD. Example: Six Flags

Swooping season - August to October in Australia. When birds attack and chase humans and / or pets for getting close to their babies. Magpies are notoriously bad for this. 

Bunnings sausage sanga - A cheap feed / meal found at the front of a hardware and gardening store called Bunnings. Made up of white bread, sausage, onion and your choice of sauce.

Fairy bread - White bread with margarine and topped with 100s and 1000s / sprinkles. 

Meter Maids - Women who work along the beach dressed in gold bikinis. They top up parking meters to save tourists from getting fined and will often stop for photos. 

Nippers - Surf lifesaving programs carried out for children between 5 and 14. 

Ute - A pick up truck.

Eshay - A person who partakes in drug use, graffiti, listens to EDM and targets victims in groups. Below is the typical style of an eshay. 

Tagging a few friends so this doesn’t completely flop but feel free to ignore if it isn't your thing. I won’t be offended lmao

@scheifefe @ifiwasshawnmendesidslapmyself @d00dlebob @bowenbyram @kempe @prettyboyroope @quintonsbyfield @travisgermy @pitoftrash @kspitehockey @ballsakic @canadianheaters @bricksatlandyswindow @powerblais @brokeninsidebutnobodyknows @jamiedrysdales

[bluerose5]

The Ghost of Paradise (Exile AU)

Chapter 1: Exiled

Rating: M

Word Count: 3,791

Tags: Mass Effect: Andromeda, Reyder, Exiles AU, Pre-Relationship, Drinking, Mentions of Recreational Drug Use

[Read it here on ao3.]

If there was one thing Scott used to his advantage, it was the fact that people always seemed to underestimate him. They thought him to be that sweet, lovable guy that almost everyone got along with. To them, he was simply a normal, everyday soldier who bought the Initiative's pitch like everyone else and took the leap across galaxies on a hunch.

Granted, most of that was somewhat true, but not entirely.

Like the other exiles, Scott didn't exactly wait around for someone else to come swooping in to save the day when the Initiative went to shit. Given that he was part of the original Pathfinder mission team —sent ahead on the Nexus to help prepare for the ark's arrival— he was supposed to have more say, should worse come to worst.

Yeah, because that turned out so well.

It wasn’t for lack of trying. When it was clear that the arks were delayed, it fell to Scott and the others sent ahead by their Pathfinders to call the shots on that end. That was what they had agreed upon per protocol before departing from the Milky Way.

Of course, Nexus leadership had something to say about that. They backtracked hard, citing inexperience and the lack of SAM as reasons to keep the Pathfinders' Nexus representatives from gaining power.

All Tann seemed to worry about was maintaining control over the populace, even when his choices didn't seem to be in everyone's best interests.

One after another, every attempt to establish an outpost failed. Naturally, hope began to dwindle over time, as would be expected after so many failures. It was brutal to watch, especially since Nexus leadership absolutely refused to send any of the Pathfinders' designated representatives. Scott didn't fully understand that decision. Maybe Tann thought that if he gave them an inch, then they would take a mile. Perhaps he was intimidated by the very thought that they might vie for the Pathfinder position yet again.

In the end, it didn't matter.

Scott didn't leave because they refused him the fancy title and its accompanying throne.

No, Scott left because of the utter incompetence. Kesh could handle her own as superintendent, but Tann and Addison were both a piece of work in their own right, making idiotic decisions yet never owning up to their mistakes. Making decisions that affected everyone yet never listening to the opinions of the public.

It was maddening, and Scott's eventual departure was inevitable.

Joining up with the uprising was one thing he couldn’t bring himself to regret. Scott fought to get innocent people off that station and to safety. Not everyone who left was a criminal, and they deserved better than what they got.

By the time they made it to Kadara, Scott was already tiring of Heleus. He helped take down the kett, didn't really get any credit for doing so, and jumped ship as soon as he could.

After Sloane took control of the port, Scott escaped into the badlands every now and then, only returning on occasion. She might have had good intentions in the beginning, but Scott didn’t like the direction her leadership was taking in regards to their future.

Besides, with trouble brewing between the Collective and the Outcasts, it seemed like he took the right step in venturing out on his own.

At first, he kept to himself, but it was impossible to ignore the people in need of help.

Seeds of corruption were already planted in the Outcasts' organization. Not that the Charlatan and their Collective were much better. Everything about the two factions' activities spelled trouble for all of the "little people" getting caught in the crossfire.

Scott had to do something. Ignoring the problem would only make it worse, leaving it to fester and spread like an unwelcome infection.

The gangs could beat each other up as much as they liked, but Scott was determined to make the planet safe for those who merely sought shelter from the madness. It took weeks of scouting out areas with a decent enough bedrock, weeks of surveying the angaran filtration systems, to even have a blueprint for a working water filter.

Of course, being an engineer had its perks.

Eventually, Scott managed to rig his tactical cloak for prolonged use and infiltrated one of the angaran hubs out in the badlands. He made it out with no collateral damage, taking off in the dead of night with scans of their systems. It gave him enough of an understanding to integrate their design into his own plans.

Did he feel bad for stealing as he did? Yes. Could he afford to linger on the guilt, knowing that those angara were denying the Milky Way species access to their plans? No.

Not when survival was on the line.

It was either keep giving them insane amounts of credits and supplies in exchange for a measly cup of water or take it for himself.

Scott was only glad he got in and out undetected. He would fight if he had to, but he wasn't bloodthirsty to the point that he actively sought out confrontation.

Building and perfecting his own filters took time and resources, even more so than usual since he was careful to keep any transactions out of the port under the radar. It was worth it, though. Before long, Scott had a working filtration system under his control.

And on Kadara, where there was fresh water, people soon followed.

Any exiles without gang affiliation were welcome. Most were wary to move to the area at first, understandably so, but Scott didn't force the matter. After all, it was difficult to verify whether or not this new town was a trap or the real thing. How could the exiles guarantee that it wouldn't turn out like all the other towns trying to get a start in the badlands? There one day, and burned to the ground by the next.

Hell, Scott didn't even attach his name to the place . Taking a page out of the Charlatan's book, Scott preferred a more discreet approach to leadership.

However, even Scott knew that, if he was ever going to get the place functioning properly, he would need to win some people over to his side.

Dr. Nakamoto had been the best person to off start with, and Scott didn't regret choosing him for a second. In exchange for retrieving his formula for Oblivion, Dr. Nakamoto promised his services as Scott's resident physician.

Luckily, his patients were more than happy to follow. Some even stayed, and word soon spread.

The rest, as they say, is history.

The locals started calling the place Paradise. A cheesy enough name, but it came down to a vote so Scott allowed it.

Compared to the surrounding cesspool that was the badlands, Scott figured he could understand why they would call it that. It felt like an oasis in an otherwise desolate wasteland, a place where one could go and catch their breath.

As for Paradise's "elusive leader," there was just as much speculation around their identity as there was around the Charlatan's. Although, unlike the Charlatan, all of the residents under Scott's care have met him, and all remained tight-lipped about who he was.

He was grateful for their loyalty. He never asked for it, but he was grateful nonetheless.

It prevented the gangs from painting a target on any one person's back. There were the occasional attacks on the community, but their people were stronger and smarter than the outlaws gave them credit for.

As stories of Scott's ventures spread, infiltrating and sabotaging both the Collective's and the Outcasts' operations to provide for his own people, Kadara Port started to buzz about this mysterious third party that joined in on Kadara's power play.

Truth was, Scott wasn't looking for power or influence.

He was simply looking to protect and provide, no matter the cost.

The Ghost, they called him, known for sneaking in and out without a trace.

And any time he was detected, there were never any witnesses left to tell the tale.

Those at Paradise always got a kick out of the nickname, refusing to let him live it down.

That was fine, though. Scott would rather be the people's boogeyman than to let their opposition think that Paradise will just roll over on their backs and let everyone else fuck them over without retaliation.

On Kadara, it was a dog-eat-dog kind of world. Any sign of weakness will be quickly taken advantage of.

But Scott played his part well.

Nowadays, he lived in the port more often than not, putting up with Sloane's ridiculous protection fees in order to keep the suspicion off himself and those around him.

At the slightest hint of trouble, Paradise had an emergency beacon equipped that would ping Scott's omni-tool at a moment's notice. He had the utmost faith in their capabilities, but he would be there at the drop of a hat, should he be signaled.

For now, it was time he sat back, kicked up his feet, and listened.

Crazy all the things you could find out just from listening to a conversation here or there.

As soon as Scott sat down at the bar in Kralla’s, he asked Umi for his usual.

“Starting a tab?” she asked as she wiped down the bar.

Scott was almost afraid to ask if that was blood or wine staining the rag that she was using. Then again, ignorance was bliss.

Such was the way of life on Kadara.

Scanning the area, Scott eventually nodded.

“Might as well.” He gave a long, drawn-out sigh. “I’m meeting with Reyes soon. Cheap bastard never pays for his drinks.”

“Yet you keep letting him get away with it,” Umi noted.

Scott chuckled.

“Best not to burn bridges over a few drinks,” he said, “especially when this bridge in particular filters a large majority of the goods coming in and out Kadara.”

“Whatever floats your boat, Ryder.”

While Umi continued to mix his drink, Scott tuned into the conversations around him. One caught his attention right off the bat, focused on the latest topic of discussion that was making its rounds throughout the Port.

“I’m tellin’ ya!” the human griped, words slightly slurred. “That damn place is a cult. All exclusive-like. I swear, that lot would rather sacrifice their firstborns than give up the name of their precious leader.”

“Hmph, doesn’t matter,” their salarian companion muttered. “If the outlaws in the badlands don’t take care of that group soon, chances are that Sloane or the Charlatan will, leader or no leader.”

Heh, Scott would like to see them try.

Speaking of the devil himself, Scott tensed the second he felt hands upon his shoulders, only to relax once he heard that familiar voice whisper in his ear.

“You look like you’re waiting for someone,” Reyes breathed, his lips brushing lightly along the shell of his ear.

Without missing a beat, Scott brushed him off with a playful glare.

“You’re late,” he scolded. He tried his best to sound indifferent, unimpressed. His relationship with Reyes has always been complicated at best. “As always.”

Releasing Scott from his hold, Reyes claimed the spot at his side, pretending to look properly chastised.

“I swear, it won’t happen again,” he said. He even made a show of crossing his heart. “I promise.”

“And yet, I don’t believe you.”

“Well, that’s because I was lying.”

Scott snorted, “At least you’re honest about something.”

That’s not even taking into account the whole Charlatan business, something that Reyes seemed to hold extra close to his chest with Scott around. Scott couldn’t tell if it was because Reyes had his own suspicions about him, or if he withheld that information for some other reason unbeknownst to Scott.

Either way, it took Scott a while to put the pieces together himself. Not too long, considering that the majority of the port was still puzzled over the Charlatan’s identity, but it was long enough for Scott to be as certain as humanly possible without having Reyes spell it out for him.

It was simple, really, once Scott knew what to look for. How Reyes slipped up one time about where the Collective’s base was, only to brush it off as mere rumor. How, on any job they took together, Reyes was the first to volunteer to follow up on any Collective leads. Or, better yet, how he seemed so certain whether or not an incident coincided with the Charlatan’s MO if the Charlatan was the one being implicated.

Safe to say, spend enough time with the man, and it became rather obvious over time.

As Keema was all too eager to point out, Reyes liked to think he was so subtle when, in reality, he’s not. Well, not as much as he assumed, at least.

On the other hand, maybe the Charlatan’s secret identity only became apparent to Scott because Reyes wanted him to figure it out.

If that was the case, then Scott would have to open that can of worms another day.

Right now, he needed to focus on why they were here.

Clearing his throat, Scott waited until Umi passed them their drinks and left, moving on to serve her other customers.

Scott grabbed ahold of Reyes’s sleeve and tugged. He waited until Reyes met his eyes, then jerked his chin in the direction of a nice, secluded table.

“Shall we?” he asked.

Reyes hummed, eyes twinkling mischievously.

“Trying to get me alone, Scott?” Resting against the bar, Reyes leaned in close, but Scott refused to move a single muscle, holding his ground. “You need only ask.”

“I’ll keep that in mind then,” Scott said. He gave Reyes a blatant once-over, sparing his lips an appreciative glance. “It’s not every day that I get the great Reyes Vidal all to myself.”

“Keep buttering me up, Scott,” Reyes teased, “and I might just give you that discount after all.”

“Really?”

“No.”

Scott huffed.

Picking up their drinks, they soon settled in at the table that Scott had pointed out. From where they sat, they had a whole view of the bar.

Scott took a swig of his beer, and Reyes instantly followed suit, unable to take their eyes off of each other for even a second.

They sat their glasses back down with a solid thunk.

“Okay,” Scott started, “let’s get down to business.”

“Just like that?” Reyes laughed.

“Just like that.” Shuffling in place, Scott reached into his pocket and removed a small pouch filled with seeds. At Reyes’s curious expression, Scott explained, “My payment. A rather generous one, if I do say so myself.”

After Scott tossed the pouch onto the table, Reyes picked it up. He let its weight rest in the palm of his hand for a moment before loosening the ties to sneak a peek.

His brow furrowed in confusion.

“Seeds?” he questioned, cocking his head to the side.

“Yep,” Scott said, popping the ‘p’ for emphasis. “Seeds for a ‘medicinal herb.’ My scans confirmed it. It develops antibiotic-like properties as it matures, along with some other, more recreational effects.”

And by scans, Scott meant Nakamoto. Their resident doctor was quick to jump at the chance to study the plant’s effects, especially if it could help fight off future infections in Andromeda.

Scott had started off by “borrowing” a few plants from some of their local cultivators, returning the samples to the greenhouse that they had established in Paradise.

Their latest harvest yielded a surplus, so Scott figured that any leftover seeds would be a profitable bargaining chip for trade.

Turns out, he was right.

Reyes tightened his grip upon the pouch and pocketed it, now that he knew what he was getting out of their exchange.

“A valuable product,” Reyes acknowledged, “if what you say is true.”

Smirking, Scott leaned back in his chair, hand over his heart in mock offense.

“Now, Reyes, would I ever lie to my favorite smuggler?”

“True enough. You do have a soft spot for me.”

“You’re that certain, huh?”

“As a betting man, I would say that I’m confident in my chances of being right.”

He even had the gall to throw in a wink for good measure.

Scott’s face warmed, but he ignored the sensation, trying to calm his racing heart.

Of, if only he knew…

Clearing his throat, Scott returned their focus to the topic at hand.

“Also, with that herb, you don’t have to worry about any of those nasty addictive effects like with Oblivion,” Scott continued. “I guess the high you get from it could be considered slightly addictive in more of a mental sense, but it’s relatively harmless on a physiological level.”

Reyes raised an eyebrow at him.

“Sounds like you know from personal experience.”

“I, uh—” Scott stammered, caught red-handed. “Well, what kind of salesman would I be if I didn’t sample the product for myself?”

“A poor one, indeed,” Reyes agreed. “I’m only offended that you didn’t think to invite me to the party.”

“I’ll keep that in mind next time I feel the urge to smoke the space weed,” Scott deadpanned.

“Please, do.”

“Okay, okay.” Scott did his best to hide his laughter. His lip quivered at the corner. “Back to business, mister. You’re not taking my goods and leaving me with nothing again.” Reyes had charmed his way out of one too many deals with him in the past, but not anymore. “Where’s the goods?”

“Scott,” Reyes gasped. “I am offended you would think that I would stoop so low as to steal from my favorite exile.”

When it was clear that Scott wasn’t buying it, Reyes surrendered.

“Alright, here. One long-ranged scanner, ready for use.” Taking out a small package, Reyes pushed it pointedly across the table. Scott took it instantly, unable to express his gratitude in that moment. “Sorry that I didn’t have a chance to giftwrap it. My best only deserves the best, after all.”

Scott felt his heart skip a beat.

“Don’t think anything of it.” Scott shook his head, clutching tightly at the package. “This should be enough.”

“Glad to hear it.” Reyes paused, hesitating before coming out with it. “If you don’t mind me asking, what’s it for?”

“What else would I use a scanner for?” Scott countered. “I wasn’t on the Pathfinder’s mission team for nothing. We have a whole bunch of unexplored ruins scattered all over the surface of this planet, and I plan on getting some readings.”

To be more specific, he wanted a reading on their turrets if he could examine one at a safe distance. Even the beam technology from the Observer bots would be useful in formulating a defensive matrix for the t—

“You what?”

Uh-oh, someone was upset.

Scott grimaced. He carefully avoided Reyes’s gaze, filled with heat and disapproval.

“Reyes, come on,” Scott sighed. It was weird to see him so fiercely protective, to see him act like he cared about anything other than the next job he had lined up. “I’m a big boy. I’ll be careful.”

“Kadara’s most experienced scientists were careful,” Reyes snapped, “yet that didn’t stop the Remnant from butchering them like animals. Scott, there’s a reason why even the angara avoid those areas like the plague. The security measures alone…”

Could be what kept Scott’s people safe.

Sitting up straight, Scott held his head up high with renewed purpose, meeting Reyes’s eyes with a stubborn glare.

“I’m going,” he stated, “whether you like it or not. The information stored there might be vital to our continued survival. We can’t pass up an opportunity to learn the Remnant’s secrets.”

Reyes pursed his lips, but eventually acquiesced.

“Fine, but I’m accompanying you when you go.”

“That’s not your decision!”

“You’re not changing my mind.”

They stared each other down, caught at an impasse.

After a moment of tense silence between them, Reyes grumbled. Since that argument was obviously far from being over, he was more than willing to change the subject.

“I have another exchange for you.”

Now, that got Scott’s attention. Setting the scanner aside, he would make sure to install the upgrade into his omni-tool later, curious about this second trade-off.

They didn’t have anything else planned for today, and Reyes wasn’t usually the type to drop something like this on a client at the last second.

Whatever he found, it had to be huge.

“What is it?” Scott asked, wondering what the Charlatan himself had up his sleeve.

“A little bit of intel,” he offered, keeping his reply as vague as ever.

Still, if Reyes was offering the information, then it must be important. As shady as he could be at times, information was his forte. When Reyes used it as a bargaining chip, he meant business, and chances were that it was reliable.

Scott simply wondered if he actually wanted the news that Reyes had to offer.

“What’s the catch?” Scott asked, because nothing on Kadara came for free.

Reyes shrugged.

“My shuttle needs some repairs, and I only trust one person to fix her up. Mind coming by tomorrow?”

Scott pretended to consider his offer for a moment, but in the end, he could never say no to working on that old bird.

“Name the time and place.”

“I’ll send you the details later, but don’t make me wait up.”

“And deny you of my presence for even longer? That would just be cruel.”

“Glad we can agree on something.” Reyes’s smile soon twisted into a frown. That solemn expression certainly didn’t do any favors to ease Scott’s nerves. “As for that intel, you’ve heard of Vehn Terev, right?”

“The poor, unfortunate soul whose head is next up on Sloane Kelly’s chopping block?” After all, she couldn’t afford to upset the angara, not after word spread of Vehn's betrayal. That would threaten the balance of power too much, at least in her eyes. “I might have heard a thing or two.”

“Well, you’re about to hear much more in the coming days,” Reyes explained, watching him closely for any sign of change. “I recently received a message from Evfra. Apparently, Vehn has some useful intel of his own, intel that could potentially cripple the kett’s operations in all of Heleus for good. Evfra has arranged for me to meet with one of his contacts about securing Vehn’s release from prison.”

“A difficult feat if Sloane won’t comply,” Scott noted, “but I still don’t see why this information would be of any use to me.”

“Scott—” Reyes hesitated.

For once, he seemed genuinely nervous, which in turn caused Scott to panic a little on the inside.

What he said turned Scott’s entire world upside down.

“The contact is Pathfinder Ryder.”

[staysaneathome]

This Was Not A Dare, Reigen

Jon glares at each of the— the suspects traitors in front of him, tape recorder clutched tight in one hand.

Martin, wringing his hands uselessly, eyes wide and beseeching. Tim, fists clenched hard enough for his knuckles to go white and returning his gaze with a death stare of his own. Sasha, arms folded to form a barrier between Jon and herself, expression a perfect mask of concern. Reigen, radiating disappointment in every one of his gestures and quips. Elias, eyes weary, fingers rubbing the bridge of his nose.

Some intervention this is turning out to be.

Jon wants to scream. Wants to reach out and shake someone, anyone, until they admit he’s making sense and it’s the rest of the world that’s gone mad.

Every single one of them (except Martin) could’ve killed Gertrude. He knows he has no proof that they did, but he has no proof that they didn’t either, can’t they see that? If they don’t want him to suspect them, it should be easy for them to actually give him proof of their innocence (like Martin did), instead of just repeating platitudes of “you know this isn’t acceptable adult behavior, Jon” and “you’re better than this, Jon”.

Who cares about knowing better or acceptable behavior when it’s your very life on the line? He’s half tempted to throttle the con artist, see how dignified or adult he is when he’s the one with a murderer on his tail!

…Not that Jon is a murderer. It’s just the principle of the thing, is all.

“Jon,” Elias says, tone soothing in all the ways he doesn’t want it to be. “This is absurd. This goes far beyond an unhealthy work environment. I’ll admit it’s partly my fault for letting it get this bad, I should have intervened earlier.”

Reigen cuts in with a hand gesture that is as effusive as it is dismissive. “That doesn’t make his behavior okay, Bouchard-san. It may be bad here, but Jon chose to follow me, Tim and Sasha, and yell at Martin, rather than going to the police or paying a detective, like Herlock Sholmes or something.”

Jon sputters. “Wh- It’s Sherlock Holmes, not—and he’s fictional!”

Reigen blinks sleepily, one eyebrow raised. “Oh? That doesn’t sound right. Are you sure?”

“Yes!” Jon all but shouts, rapidly reconsidering his stance on braining the sardonic little git with his tape recorder. “Don’t you even—an-and you’re deflecting again! Just like with your ridiculous ‘haunted gun’ nonsense!”

“I’m not!” Reigen says, clearly deflecting. “I’ve seen this kind of thing loads of times as the number one psychic. When a weapon kills lots of people over 100 years, the bad energy gets bigger and bigger until the gun grows an evil spirit and is hungry—”

“I refuse to believe Gertrude Robinson was murdered by a sentient blunderbuss!!”

“Be that as it may,” Elias interrupts, shooting them both a stern frown. “This is exactly the kind of thing I was talking about, Jon. Given how badly it’s affected your work ethic, I will be taking direct action to ensure it does not continue.”

Jon can feel his shoulders hunch almost against his will, dread pooling in his stomach at the thought of whatever punishment is about to be unjustly inflicted on him.

Only Martin looks half as worried as he feels, glancing between him and Elias nervously. By contrast, Tim looks downright triumphant, smirk nasty and vindictive. Sasha’s somewhere between those two, not openly celebrating his soon-to-be-downfall, but not acting like she’d lift a finger on his behalf either, though he’s unsure why that feels like it should surprise him. She’s always been as neutral as Switzerland.

Reigen, oddly enough, has more in common with Martin than with Tim. He’s staring at Elias like he’s waiting for a bit of news he knows he won’t like.

Jon thinks he’d appreciate that more if he wasn’t about to be unfairly lambasted simply for trying to stop a murderer and bring justice for an old woman who probably died frightened and alone. Much like Jon probably will once he’s been hobbled by whatever Elias is about to say next.

“Such as by restricting access to the archives from members of the public who are ultimately doing you more harm than good.”

…Wait.

What?

“What?!” Tim, Martin, and Sasha echo.

Reigen glances between them all, blinking in confusion.

Jon shares the sentiment entirely. His punishment is…for someone else to be removed from the archives? Someone he doesn’t employ or even like that much, no less?

He must have misheard, surely.

Though maybe not, given how Tim looks aghast, glancing between Elias and Reigen. “Okay, no, Reigen’s clearly not the problem here—”

“I’m very sorry, Tim, but Jon has made several remarks about the disruptive nature of Mr. Arataka’s presence in the archives.” Elias sighs. “From the arguments like the one we just witnessed to the nonsensical purchases of oddities inspired by his presence, such as Duolingo subscriptions,” Meaningful glare at Jon who resists the urge to clutch his phone guiltily, “That are now billed on the Archives’ expenses, it unfortunately seems as though he is dragging down productivity for all of you as an active stressor.”

“But we’re much better equipped to take statements from people who don’t speak English because of that!” Martin protests, stepping forward. “Isn’t it an advantage to have a more, more international perspective for our work?”

“One positive in a sea of negatives does not an advantage make.” Elias says, sounding infuriatingly like he’s misquoting something. “And really Martin, how realistic is it that this would help in more than a few isolated cases? I expected better from you.”

Martin’s face crumples, and his shoulders hunch, making himself smaller.

Jon finds his own mouth opening to—what? Say something? What would he even say?

Luckily, Sasha intervenes before he can dig his own grave further. “That’s as may be, but he’s a wonder for morale. He and Jon are funny, not anything serious, and I don’t think we’d have come to you about Jon‘s behavior unless he encouraged us to—”

“Which only fits into the delusion where Jon feels an outsider is rallying his subordinates against him, which is not good for his paranoid outlook.” Elias replies calmly. “And it’s never a healthy work environment when one employee feels the others are making them the butt of a joke.”

“I’d say that’s not as bad as when the boss feels he has the right to violate everyone’s privacy whenever he wants to just ’cause he’s feeling sad!” Tim growls.

Elias begins to answer, before Reigen finally speaks up.

“Sorry,” The con artist says carefully. “But you are…«I know this one…» banning me from the Archives? Yes?”

“That is the long and short of it, yes.” Elias says, grudgingly

“Why?” Reigen challenges, eyes hard and searching. “What have I, personally, done that’s wrong here? What behavior do I need to correct?”

There’s a moment of silence. The whirring of the tape recorder sounds uncomfortably loud.

“Mr. Arataka, are you currently under the employ of the Magnus Institute?” Elias asks, brow furrowed.

“Ah, no, no, but—”

“Are you looking to become employed by the Institute at this point in time, as a prospective member of the Archival Staff?” He fires off rapidly.

“Su-Sorry, but if you could just go a little slower—”

“Then I am afraid that unless you’re looking to fill out an employment contract or a Statement form, we cannot help you, Mr. Arataka.” Elias spreads his hands wide. “We are an academic institution, a place of research and learning. The Institute cannot allow for social dalliances on company time, especially not when those visits are negatively contributing to the work environment and the wellbeing of our staff.”

Tim throws up his hands, “I-I cannot believe this!”

Reigen’s mouth works soundlessly for a moment.

“Arataka is my…what do you call it? First name?” He says, at last. “Using it in this context is…inappropriate. Please call me Reigen, if you would, Bouchard-san.”

“Of course. My mistake, Mr. Reigen.” Elias does have the decency to look somewhat abashed. “Though, regrettably, I am going to have to ask you to leave the premises within the next twenty minutes, or I will be forced to call security.”

Reigen nods, jerkily, hands stuffed in his pockets.

Jon almost wants to call out to the fraud as he turns to go, grab him by the shoulder, pick another argument, something. He knows he should be happy, be glad that this thorn in his side will finally stop bothering him, but instead he just feels—befuddled. Off-kilter.

What happened to the man who once spent three hours arguing for the “spiritual effectiveness” of entirely performative and useless rituals, saying that ensuring his clients left his office fooled and contented was better than actually uncovering genuine supernatural forces and learning all there was to know about them? Why is he going so-so easily now, when he’s made Jon fight tooth and nail in every debate he’s had with the so-called psychic?

At the door, the con man pauses.

“Bouchard-san. You said I could come back if I had a statement to give?”

Elias shifts in his seat, looking bemused. “W-well, yes. That is a service we do provide. Of course, the statement would have to be genuine, and verifiable as such before we let you back into the Archives.”

“We don’t even do that for most of the rubbish we do take,” Tim mutters under his breath, and though Jon is glad he’s not the one being shot a quelling look, he does have to agree.

The con man turns back.

He’s got that smirk on his face that immediately puts Jon’s hackles up on instinct, prepared to argue against whatever inane point he’s come up with now to defend his phony psychic title.

“Gotcha.” Reigen says, far too cheerfully. «Ja ne.»

Then he strolls out of the office, as cool as a cucumber.

Jon could even swear he hears him whistling as he makes his way down the stairs.

There’s a moment of stunned silence.

“I’d do him.” Sasha pipes up, unhelpfully.

“Sasha!” Martin hisses, scandalized. “D-don’t you have a, a—”

“Oh, I don’t have to worry about that.” She remarks, far too blasé for someone in a newly committed relationship. “Tom’s heard about him too, and he agreed he’s just our type.”

“And I’m not?” Tim jokes, but there’s a hard edge to it that Jon’s found himself increasingly familiar with in the past few weeks.

Sasha shrugs with a mischievous little smile, as if that mattered very little to her.

Elias coughs. “Right. Well. Whatever your relations to Mr. Reigen are, please try to limit them to outside the workplace in future.”

The rest of the intervention is surprisingly subdued. Elias gives Jon access to the footage from the cameras in the rest of the Institute, and Tim bodychecks him on the way out of the office, muttering about how nice it must be to never face any consequences for his actions. Sasha follows, the way she won’t meet his eyes a condemnation in its own right.

Even Martin doesn’t say anything to him, just bites his lip and hurries past back down to the Archives. It doesn’t sting. It doesn’t.

Even as he settles in to watch and rewatch the CCTV records of Gertrude’s last week alive, Jon can’t shake the ridiculous feeling of foreboding that’s dogged him since Reigen left.

Most of him wants to say it comes from the fact that despite the fact that Reigen has not appeared in any of the camera records for the Magnus Institute before he started his term as Head Archivist in 2016, isn’t banning him from the Archives just letting the con man run around London with impunity, with no way for Jon to ascertain his movements or motives? That instead of solving a problem, Elias has just given a potential murderer free reign to escape?

But a small part of Jon, one that never could deny the sensation of being watched, that is frozen in second-hand terror whenever he reads a Statement, knows, Knows that it this stems more from the idea that the fraud will actually accomplish what Elias has unwittingly challenged him to do.

The illogical but pervasive surety that he will do so.

Jon’s not sure if he’s more afraid that Reigen Arataka will vanish entirely, another unfortunate victim become an unsolved mystery.

Or that he’ll come back, and bring whatever he’s managed to unearth on his insane quest with him.

[earthfire-75]

Kashmir

Chapter One, Part Two: Kashmir (The Trick is to Keep Breathing)

Author’s notes: co-written with @nature-and-music , beta-ed by @lady-jane-revisited

A lopsided smile tugged at his lips, “I’ll get them for you.”

“No thank you Robert, Grant gave me the money and I’ll pay for it.”

“Oh please, just one of them then?”

I shook my head, “No it’s fine. Besides, we need to head back.”

He pursed his lips and huffed, “Alright, if you say so.”

The purchase was completed and it was time to head out, however Robert was speaking to the woman behind the counter; or flirting no less. She nodded her head and wrote something down on a note by the dresses that he brought to her.

“Thank you darlin’, have a pleasant rest of your day.”

I chuckled, “Giving her the number to your hotel room?”

“Not exactly, Anjelika. Come on we better hurry, the party’s going to start soon and you still need to do your hair and makeup,” he informed.

Somewhere along the line, we lost the other three band members. Robert took me to the hotel they were staying at, figuring they would all meet up there anyway. He let me borrow his bathroom to change and do my hair and makeup.

“What kind of party is it? Formal or informal?”

“Well, I’m wearing a suit, if that helps?”

I rolled my eyes. “Ok.” I picked out the longer dress and started getting ready. I could hear Robert rummaging around in the other room and assumed he was doing the same. I just finished when Robert knocked on the door.

“I need the mirror, love. Gotta comb out my hair and beard.”

I flung the door open, grabbing the comb from the counter. “Don’t you dare take a comb to those curls! Tell me you have a pick.”

He swallowed. “Technically? I left it at home?”

I didn’t say anything else, but grabbed his hand and pulled him out to the common room and to the couch. I then sat, pulling him down next to me. It was then I noticed what suit he was wearing, and still with his beard. Fuck! He wasn’t yet wearing the jacket, but he had the vest on and the top two or three bottoms of his shirt were left undone. Now it was my turn to swallow hard as I leaned in with the comb to fix his beard. Then I started to run my fingers through his hair carefully.

“If you forget your pick again, use your fingers, not a comb or brush. You could ruin your curls otherwise.”

“I’ll remember that.”

“Good. Now, we should probably get going.”

We both stood and, as Robert grabbed his jacket from the arm of the couch, we left the hotel room and headed downstairs. “The party is being held in the hotel restaurant,” Robert informed me.

At first, the party seemed more like a meet and greet with the other roadies and their tour manager, who seemed unimpressed that I was “some bird” Jimmy picked up off the street. But none of the boys were having it. Robert happily reassured the crew that I was indeed more than “some bird,” that in fact I was assigned to be a part of the touring as well. To be equipped with the behind the scene matters and the roadies would simply need to learn to live with this sudden change. Being the new kid in town was never easy, and I was feeling beyond self conscious about this, however I had to keep my intrusive thoughts at bay. New learning opportunities would be coming up and it was all a matter of learning the ropes. Even if a fair amount of the crew thought of me as another to be shared among the members of the band, especially with Robert since he had locked arms with me.

The party started off fairly quiet at first as we all sat down at our tables to listen to a congratulatory speech from Grant. He had nothing but high expectations for everyone involved and that this tour would be bigger and heavier than the previous one. I felt a hand touch my lap and I followed the arm to see Robert’s concerned expression. I gave him a little smile to reassure him that I was alright. The last thing that I needed to do was interrupt Peter in the middle of his talk, and right before my first day no less.

A line was formed as everyone made their way to be serviced by the chefs. All manner of succulent cuts of meat, freshly cooked fish, bubbling champagne, and assorted hors d'oeuvres were ready to be served. Everything looked so delicious and oh so appetizing, I just simply couldn’t believe my eyes. As we stood in line, I overheard Jonesy and Jimmy mention something, although it was hard to hear amongst the chatter of Robert talking to Bonzo.

“How do you suppose they’ll feel about touring?” Jimmy asked.

Jonesy shrugged, “Well, hopefully their antics won’t take away from the show. And your guitars won’t get demolished as well.”

Jimmy scowled, “If he even thinks about touching any of my guitars, I’ll bash his head in!”

“If you do, she’ll end up giving you a black eye. You know that she has a bit of a ‘short’ temper,” the bassist chuckled. “Besides, I wouldn’t worry about it.”

“Well you're the bass guitar player, none of your things will be obliterated,” Jimmy whined.

Bonzo joined in, “Not unless a certain someone decides to shove a cherry bomb in the strings.”

Jonesy smiled and rolled his eyes, “Well I suppose I’ll just need to stand close to Thunderfingers won’t I?”

Guitars being destroyed? Cherry bombs? My curiosity peaked, however I didn’t want to interrupt their conversation. At least not until I knew a little more of what or who they were referring to. We made our way to the table and enjoyed our delicious food and sparkling drinks. The champagne flowed like rain down our throats as the appetizing meals made our mouths water. A few questions were directed to me regarding how I was feeling about the new job and I answered honestly.

I smiled meekly, “Well I’m very excited about this. This is going to be something different for me for sure, but I’ll do my best.”

“You will darlin’, you will,” Robert smirked as he patted my hand. “So how long have you been playing and singing?”

“Well, for a while actually. I just picked up a few lessons from my dad and just… learned a bit on my own.”

Jimmy noted, “I did a bit of session work when I was a lad. Learned a few things myself along the way.”

Robert butted in, “Well I hope we can hear more of your singing and playing while on tour. I think you’ll sound wonderful, and the audience will love it.”

I felt myself clam up a bit at the prospect of playing before a live audience, even though it was a touching notion on Robert’s part. I didn’t think it was necessary to get myself even more involved than necessary, especially since a fair amount of the road crew weren't exactly pleased with me being here. I gave Robert a little smile and a shrug and let him know that we could put that idea on the back burner.

“I’m curious though…who were the three of you talking about earlier? You mentioned something about guitars being destroyed?” I asked. I had hoped they would have said more by now, but since they hadn’t and my curiosity was getting the better of me…I had to ask.

Jonesy laughed a little. “Interesting wording. We were talking about another band who will be touring with us. Interestingly enough, they are called The Who. They’ve got a habit of destroying their equipment. Jimmy was concerned it might spill over to ours as well.”

I know of them, of course and of that particular habit, though I had thought they had stepped doing so by this time. Then again, it's a different universe, likely also a different timeline. “I see,” I said instead. Looking at Bonzo, I got his attention. It was as good a time as any to talk to him, but I didn’t know what the other boys knew.

“Bonzo? Can we talk? Alone?”

“Uh, sure. Looks like there’s a spot at the bar surprisingly clear of people.”

We got up from the table and walked over to the bar, ordering ourselves a drink before I started the conversation, but Bonzo beat me to it.

“So…yer a Nightbane too?” He asked with such nonchalance.

“Yeah, I am. So are you. Do they know?”

“Yeah, they do. Rob found out first. He was there during my Becoming. Scared the daylights out of ‘im, but it was like he still knew it was me. Jimmy found it ‘fascinating’. Jonesy took it the worst, almost left the band when he first found out. But he came around.”

I nodded in acknowledgment and downed my drink. How did the fact that they all knew Bonzo was a Nightbane make it both a relief and up my anxiety about them finding out I was one too? Would they be able to accept the creature beneath as easily as they had with Bonzo? Granted my other form wasn’t monstrous in the traditional sense, yet, I still worried it would scare them off at best.

Bonzo smiles a little. “Don’t worry, Jonesy might freak out a little, but I really don’t think you need to worry about Rob and Jimmy at all.”

“Thanks, Bonzo.”

Someone cleared their throat behind us and we turned to see Robert. “Sorry to interrupt your conversation, but the other bands just showed up. I thought you might like to meet them, Anjelika.”

He stepped to the side and I found the members of The Who standing there, looking at me. I knew each of them by name and face, even as they introduced themselves, though I did a double take as my eyes landed on the shortest member. There, with the same blue eyes I had seen so many times before, was a very feminine looking Roger Daltrey. Now I know I’m not in my own universe…

“Rogina Daltrey,” she introduced herself to me, her blue eyes never leaving mine.

“Anjelika,” I responded back with a smile and she in return gave me a smirk.

“Bonzo!” Keith uttered, a drink in one hand as he hugged his fellow drummer, “You gained a few stones since last I saw you.”

Bonzo rolled his eyes as he chortled, holding his head in a strong arm grip. Keith complained that his champagne would fall out, but that didn’t stop Bonzo from treating him like a sibling. “Moonie, why don’t you and the lads say hello to our new friend here, yeah?”

John and Pete made their acquaintances, Keith was able to give her a little wave of his hand until Bonzo finally let him go and gave him a good slap on the back.

“You’ll have to excuse Keith, he’s a bit loonie as you can see,” Pete explained. “So what brings you here?”

“Well I’ll be going on tour with the band, and it looks like I’ll be seeing you four as well.”

Rogina interjected, “Is that right? What will you be doing?”

“A roadie, so I’ll be around helping with getting everything ready,” I mentioned.

“She might even do a bit of performing as well,” Robert mentioned proudly.

I was silent as The Who stared at me, my throat becoming dry. I tried to play off his comment as a joke, “Good one Robert. He’s just kidding-”

Rogina tilted her head as she looked at me, “Are you sure? Because if you can sing, we’d love to hear you.”

My heart was pounding, all I could give her was an unsure shrug, “Um, another time… maybe. Say why do you all go get something to eat, the food is very delicious here.”

Keith was already off to find himself a plate, with John closing in behind him. Pete kept himself occupied with discussing business matters with Jimmy and Grant. Rogina on the other hand decided to stay and talk a bit more. Everything about this Roger was pretty much the same: The height, the golden corkscrew curls, ocean blue eyes, toothy grin, muscular arms, and stylish clothing. Still it was odd speaking with her, considering the obvious factors such as a slightly higher register in her voice and the presence of breasts that protruded from her suit.

“So how did you manage to work with Zeppelin?” Rogina asked.

I tried to answer as best as I could, “Oh well… you see Jimmy let me know that a spot was available actually.” I wasn’t sure why I couldn’t tell her that Jimmy had found me like an abandoned cat in an alleyway that he felt sorry for. A little of me to say, but still I couldn’t seem to add that in.

“Is it true what Robert said about you performing? I mean you seemed awfully quiet when he brought it up.”

I sighed at the question, barely keeping myself from pinching the bridge of my nose. “I’m quickly learning that Robert's a little like a puppy…very excitable. I played a little bit for them to prove that I know what I’m doing with the guitars. Something came over me and I sang a little bit too. I never agreed to playing in front of anyone else. Let alone in front of a huge audience.”

Rogina’s smile softened at that. “He really is, though I’m sorry to hear you won’t be playing. The offer is always open and I meant what I said, I'd love to hear from you. if you change your mind.”

I returned her smile and I knew I was going to love this version of Roger too. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

G made his way over with a couple other people, one looked vaguely familiar, the other I didn’t recognize. “Anjelika! I want to introduce you to Ahmet Ertegun, owner of Atlantic Records. He’s here to support the boys. And this is Alice Cooper, joining us on the American leg of the tour.”

Both men stuck a hand out for me to shake. I took Ahmet’s first who placed his other hand over mine gently. “I must thank you for joining the road crew, dear. Though, I must admit, I was shocked to hear you were a woman. Forgive me, I mean no offense, it’s just never been done before.”

I smiled at Ahmet, trying not to take offense. It may be a different universe, but apparently the ‘70’s were still the ‘70’s. Turning to Alice, I shook his hand next, barely recognizing him without the makeup.

“I don’t know if shocked is the word I would have used, but I guess I am a little surprised. Didn’t figure I’d see a female roadie for another decade at least. Don’t get me wrong, I love that women are getting more and more involved in rock. And if anyone gives you any shit, just say the word.”

My smile grew wider at Alice’s genuine words. “Thank you, I appreciate that. Though, I assure you, I can handle myself.”

“I’m certain you can, but the offer is still on the table. I would like to stay and get to know you a little more, but I need to get back to my girlfriend. It was nice meeting you, Anjelika.”

“I’m sure there will be time to get to know each other more on the road and it was nice to meet you too.”

“Fair enough. See you tomorrow, then.” And with that he was off. G and Ahmet soon excused themselves to go talk to the boys and I was left at the bar once more with Rogina next to me.

Rogina sighed, “I know this must be all new to you. Believe me that being a woman involved in rock and roll seems to weird people out, especially guys.”

I gave her a reassuring grin, “Yeah, I’m sure you probably have gone through a lot.”

Rogina took a sip of her flute, “I may have a few stories. One of them involves Keith actually.”

I leaned in, “What happened?”

“Well let’s just say he thought that he could get away with copping a feel. He lost a couple of teeth that night,” Rogina chuckled. “The bastard will never live that moment down.”

I wasn’t sure if I could share a laugh with Rogina, even though she was able to find humor in such a terrible situation. All I could muster was a nervous smile and a nod.

Rogina took another sip of her champagne, rested her head on her palm, and pondered, “So is this your first time working with Zeppelin?”

“Yes actually. And I hope that I’ll do alright while on tour,” I admitted.

“I think you will,” Rogina claimed with a warm smile. “So what would you like to drink? The champagne is alright, but I think I’ll get a whiskey instead.”

I was taken aback, “Oh well… a beer sounds good.”

Truthfully, a Nightbane could easily drink any of these mortals under the table. As to how I would do against Bonzo, a fellow Nightbane, well that would be a matter for another day. Still I was grateful knowing that Bonzo could understand, and hopefully the remainder of Zeppelin, Who, and Cooper would as well. However it was too early to let the rest of them know. In time I would say something, only when the moment felt right.

As we waited for our drinks, I felt a strange looming presence behind me. My throat went dry the moment I turned around to see John Entiwistle, the Ox himself, towering over the two of us. Rogina on the other hand casually remarked, “I thought you were supposed to be babysitting our dear boy.”

“Well quite frankly I need a break from him,” John mentioned with a deep chortle. “I think as long as nothing blows up tonight, he’ll tire himself out eventually.” He gestured to the bartender and asked for a glass of cognac.

Rogina nodded and asked him, “Where did Pete go?”

“Probably talking some poor bastard’s ear off about Lifehouse,” he laughed.

“Oh come on John, the man just wants to share his work to the world,” Rogina noted.

John leaned in towards me, “She says that, but even she gets tired of his songs about teenage angst.”

Rogina scowled at him, “I do not.”

John raised his eyebrows, “Keep telling yourself that Rog. It was Anjelika right?”

I nodded, “Yes John.”

He responded with a handshake, “Pleasure to meet you.”

“And you as well”, I responded with a return of his handshake. “I take Keith's handful?”

Rogina and John laughed. “That’s putting it mildly some days.” John admitted.

“I swear the man can’t not cause trouble in some fashion or another for even a few hours.” Rogina adds.

“I think there’s some unspoken rule that drummers are all crazy,” I chuckled.

“That explains everything, actually.” John said with a chuckle of his own. Rogina just shook her head.

I looked up to see the time on a clock on the wall. Midnight. Where had the time gone? “I should head up to get some sleep, I want to be up early to grab a few things I forgot earlier today from the drug store across the way. Besides, I’m assuming the roadies will be up earlier than the bands to pack up the buses.” Downing the last of my beer, I shook John’s hand again. “It was nice meeting you.” I set the empty bottle on the bar and left a few bills before turning to Rogina. “Thank you for the beer.”

She surprised me by pulling me into a hug instead of giving me a handshake. “Any time. And I’ll add to what Alice said earlier. Anyone gives you any trouble, let me know, I’ll kick their ass.”

“Thank you. But I really need to go.” With that I went to find G to figure out where I would sleep tonight. I found him still with the boys, though it appeared that Ahmet had left. I explained to G that I wanted to get to bed and why, but it was Robert who interjected.

“You can stay in my room for tonight,” Robert offered. “The rest of your things are still there from earlier.”

I had forgotten about that. Hesitantly I nodded in agreement, even if I was worried about what the other roadies, especially Cole, might say. “Alright, as long as this doesn’t become a habit. Just for tonight.”

I could see the disappointment behind Robert’s eyes, but he agreed. “Here, take my key, just leave the door unlocked so I can get in later.”

Nodding, I took the key and thanked him before heading upstairs to the room, getting as comfortable on the couch as I could.

@brownskinsugarplum76 @m-faithfull @jimmys-zeppelin @lady-jane-revisited @firethatgrewsolow @salixfragilis @timetraveller4 @callmethehunter @tremble-and-shake @tophats-n-lespauls @princesspagey @tangerine-page

[mvnvgedmischief]

unremarkable days.

summary: sirius black is trying to be a good man, a good brother, a good person. Sirius has a steady job designing book covers for a publishing house, a flat he never leaves, and a traumatized brother who was just removed from the custody of his parents. All in all, it's wildly unremarkable.

chapter:  4/?

characters: sirius black, regulus black, wolfstar, background marauders

tags: tw: canon compliant abuse, child abuse, social services, abuse

words: 3. 8 k

read it on ao3 here

read the last chapter here

Sirius knew that work was going to be high stress all day. He felt sick to his stomach, thinking about the way he would continuously have to talk to people, when all he wanted was some peace. He wanted downtime. Time when he didn’t have to think about how he needed his paycheck to put food on the table, clothes on his brother’s back, pay bills to keep his lights on, wifi for homework. Regulus occupied his thoughts at all times, protecting him was Sirius’s only priority these days. He didn’t have time for anything else. Not his friends, not his interests, not music. Nothing could come between his focus and his brother’s wellbeing, because if it did, Sirius would never forgive himself. The consequences were too dire. So instead, he just wished for downtime that wouldn’t come, and prayed for the weekend to approach even faster. 

The weekend, when he could finally sleep again, albeit not well. The weekend, when he had the time to take a breath, even if it was only brief. Because his weekends were also spent finding ways to better equip his apartment for his younger brother, going to long grocery runs so Regulus had lunch to take to school, meal prepping all of the things he couldn’t bring himself to eat for dinner. He was definitely tired of all of the ways his mind was spiraling out, he didn’t have the time. He didn’t fault Regulus for it, it wasn’t the teen's presence in his life that was causing all this stress. It really was his own fault. A bit of crying at that first hearing had given Walburga and Orion the satisfaction of a victory over him at that first hearing, and they seemed to crave more of that chaos. They wanted to watch their children suffer, and this was how they chose to do that. So instead he spiraled in the privacy of his own home, because he could practically hear the words they burned into his mind whenever he saw them, and feel the ache of old beatings. 

But it was only Thursday, and that meant he still had to do this all day, and  then get berated by the rest of the team for not attending their weekly bonding happy hour. If he was lucky,  no  one would ask him to go. He knew he should be less terrified of them asking, most of the people on his team were his friends. There was simply the question of Remus, and Sirius didn’t have the time to be thinking about him in the first place. 

He didn’t have time to think about  the way his hair curled just the right way to fall into his eyes when he slept, or the way his caramel freckles made him look sunkist. He didn’t have time to think about the  pink scars that ran down Remus’s face or how they got there. He definitely didn;’t have time to think of the comfort  of his hand combing through Sirius’s own mop of unruly curls. So instead, he needs to  put  all of that out  of his mind. It wasn’t going to help him do well at work. It wasn’t going to solve his problems. He didn’t have the  time for this, nor did he have the emotional bandwidth. Perhaps that was why Sirius was conveniently avoiding the idea that he had asked Remus on a date. With some luck, Remus would think he was just an asshole who ghosted him. That was definitely complicated by the fact that they worked together, that he couldn’t just disappear. He wanted to, he really did, because there was simply no time. 

He set up his deliverables as though he had made tons of them, because his employment in this company  rode on it. Just two months ago, he was pegged to be promoted within the next two cycles, and now he could barely hold on to his sanity enough to handle his workload. He was so fucking tired, and he had so much on his plate. He needed to mentally prepare himself for the long day of meetings ahead of him. He had no true motivation to do his job right now, all he knew was that his exhaustion was no excuse. He knew that his boss, Alice, was giving him a whole lot of leeway right now. She was probably doing more than she should to help him. Being a mentor on the senior design team didn’t mean she needed to keep tabs on his personal life and pick up his slack. 

“Sirius–” 

When Sirius focused back into the meeting he was calling into, it occurred to him that they’re talking to him. So he did what he always did, blamed it on a shoddy connection. 

“Oh, sorry, can you repeat that? My audio cut out.” 

“Remus was saying that some of  the poems could probably use illustrations, and he was wondering if you had any ideas on which ones needed it.” 

“Thanks, Peter.” Sirius was glad that he knew the people on this team, that Peter and James were as close to him as anyone could be. Because otherwise, he’d probably be fucked. 

“So I was looking through them, and I was thinking Bite, Magick, and Love I could probably use larger scale illustrations. But at the same time, we don’t want to crowd the book. How attached are you to the current order or page arrangement?” 

It felt too close, but he was lucky that he had at least read the titles of some of the poems in the first half of the book. Sirius knew Remus didn’t actually know what his level of involvement was. He thought it was just doodles, but Sirius would be responsible for presenting everything from kearning and font choice within the pages, to illustration and cover art to the design team. He was integral to the success of this book as a product, and he  needed to start acting like it. 

“I’m pretty attached.” Remus sounded cold to Sirius, and he wondered what exactly he had done wrong in this meeting. And yet, he didn’t have time to think on it. He needed to keep things moving, keep getting valuable information out of the author. Hook up be damned, Sirius needed this book to actually get off the ground. 

 “Okay, well we should get a meeting on the calender to discuss. What poems and what scale of illustrations you want–” 

“Shouldn’t you be deciding what the illustrations look like and the logistics of those. Isn’t that what you  get paid for?” Remus really wasn’t making this easy on Sirius. But he had dealt with bigger demons and divas then whatever this attitude was. So he put on a light and airy smile, one they’d never know didn’t reach his eyes over the low quality webcam and nodded. 

“If you’d like to take a hands off approach with the design work, that can absolutely be arranged. But in the case of a fledgling project with a new author, the design team, myself included, really hope to prioritize your artistic license so that we can get a better sense of your vision for your literature, should Quill move forward with other publications in the future.  We can provide a completely in-house service, with as much input as you feel necessary during the design process, and deliver collateral towards the end of the project when final edits are done, if you would prefer, Mister Lupin.” 

Sirius practically wanted to scream. He needed Remus to stop fucking with his job, with his livelihood. He couldn’t lose this project. He needed all of the billable hours he could get if he was going to justify the overtime he needed in order to provide for his brother. This was ridiculous. But his clinical and polite answer must have thrown Remus, because he didn’t get much more attitude out of him. The back and forth had ended. So instead, Sirius pulled up his deliverables for the week, which included new iterations for the covers, and twelve illustrations for the three poems he had mentioned. 

He noticed the way Remus looked at his drawings, like he was pained by whatever his thoughts were, and Sirius wants to scream that he’s under no obligation to think that they’re good. But then he remembers that Remus seemed to be nitpicking on purpose, based on his critique of the design system itself. Sirius didn’t have the time to deal with that level of petty, just because he hadn’t been answering. He was too busy. He had too much on his plate. So instead he continues his presentation. 

“I don’t like any of these. Maybe you should start over.” Remus sounded vindictive, even mean. Like he was doing this out of spite.  Sirius could feel his heart drop in that moment. He didn’t want to start over. He didn’t have the time. 

“What do you not like about them?” Sirius is trying to salvage his work while he can. 

“The vibe is off.”

“Oh, is there something specific that throws it off or...” Sirius trailed off, wondering what exactly he needed to change. 

“No, it’s the whole thing. All of them are just off.” 

Sirius needed to think quick on his feet. He didn’t have the time to start from scratch, so he pulled up his original thumbnails that he had discussed with Remus. 

“These are the original sketches we discussed. I moved forward with the ones we talked about. I’m happy to rework those sketches,” no, he wasn’t. “But if there’s another sketch that you think would fit your vision better, please let me know.” He felt like he was pleading with Remus not to hate his artwork. He’d be a liar if he said it wasn’t a blow to his self esteem to hear that everything that he did was bad. 

“No, I would suggest you start over.” 

Sirius nodded, his mind immediately whirring with ways he could start over and re-design this project. He really didn’t want to do it. He didn’t want to do hundreds of thumbnails to get set on thirty, only to be destroyed in a meeting again. Especially when Remus seemed so excited about all of his illustrations before the meetings. It felt like too much. He didn’t have the energy for this kind of behavior. 

Luckily, Marlene directed the conversation away from Sirius’s work. The rest of the call went on without a hitch, like the only person who’s work Remus had a problem with was Sirius’s. He knew that it was more likely for Remus to have a problem with him, because design work was usually something an artist thought of as easy; however, this felt calculated and cold. If Sirius had been avoiding Remus before, it definitely wasn’t about to get better. So instead, he listened to the end of the meeting, and started the project all over again. He could do this. It was an unremarkable critique. It didn’t matter.

[keanureevesisbae]

Coach Cavill - Chapter 7

Summary: Amelia is about to go on her first date with coach Cavill

Coach!Henry Cavill x Amelia Jung (Asian ofc)

Wordcount: 3.3k

Warnings: None

A/N: To celebrate the fact that I am done with school for a while, I thought I’d post (part one of) their date with you! I hope you like it 💕 please let me know if you want to be on the taglist!

Masterlist // Previous chapter // Next chapter

Within an hour I had to dress up to look splendid that Friday, because I didn’t want Dean to see how beautiful I was going to look. Maybe the stress dressing up under sixty minutes also had to do with the poor state of my planning today, but we are simply going to ignore that.

The entire week I have been looking forward to this. During the training yesterday, Henry kept stealing glances from me, after he made me a wonderful cup of cappuccino. It’s weird really, how head over heels I’m becoming, in just a matter of a little more than a week.

While everything Dean was exciting and somehow terrifying, since he was mysterious and a little hard to get, this instant connection I have with Henry feels so safe and familiar. I can’t stop thinking about him, to a point where Ricky, Annabelle and the rest of the little ones in my class kept asking me if I was doing okay. However, they figured out pretty soon I was a bit in love and now they continue to make kissy sounds during the day.

‘You look fucking hot,’ Eve says, as she brushes through my hair. ‘Lucky mister Henry Cavill.’

‘Is it too much?’ I ask, as I smooth down my tight dark blue dress, that Isabella insisted on me wearing and it’s a good fit: I mean, it accentuates the few curves I have. I look down at the matching high heels and sigh deeply. ‘It’s too much,’ I conclude.

‘No, honey, it’s not too much. You look beautiful and I know that Henry will think so too. Besides, he is already smitten with you, so I don’t think you have anything to worry about.’

I let out a sigh again. ‘It’s just that I’m nervous. How long has it been since I had my last first date?’

‘When you were nineteen,’ Eve answers my rhetorical question. ‘I know that, but that went well too and since Henry is an absolute angel, this date will go without a hitch, I can guarentee. And besides, you have done things much more terrifying than this. You went to South Korea, debuted in a girl group. A full one eighty in career choices when you got here, went on a date with the mysterious hottie Dean, somehow made that work. Plus, you were a total bad ass and gave birth to Isabella on your own, who was breeched.’

I roll my eyes. ‘I highly doubt you can compare giving birth to a first date.’

‘What I want to make clear to you, is that you are fierce and awesome and Henry knows that too.’ Eve and I both yelp when the doorbell rings. ‘Your future husband is here.’

‘Shut up,’ I say, as we walk down the stairs. She stuffs something in my clutch and hands it to me. ‘What on earth did you put in here?’ I hiss, as I grab my coat from the rack.

‘A condom.’

I halt all my movements. ‘You did what?’

‘Better to be safe than sorry.’

Before I can tell her off and that I’m really not going to have sex with Henry on the first date, she pushes me to the door and I quickly put on my coat, before I open the door.

I’m hit with the realization that I’m going on a date with the most beautiful man on this planet. He looks illegally handsome, with his nice suit jacket hanging open, that matches with his black pants. He is wearing a white blouse, nicely tucked into his pants and the tease has the two top buttons open and the sight of his chest (and the chest hair) is making my mouth dry.

‘Wow,’ he says with a beautiful smile, ‘you look beautiful, Amelia.’

This is going to kill me. How am I supposed to survive this entire night? ‘It’s not too much?’ I ask, just to be sure and first date jitters taking the upper hand.

He shakes his head. ‘This is exactly right.’

I turn to Eve, who is holding in a squeal. After being friends with her for so long, I know every facial expression. ‘Only call me if it is a matter of life or death,’ I tell her.

‘Have I ever called you when it was not important?’ I cock an eyebrow and she nods. ‘Right, I have done that before. I’m sorry. Won’t do it tonight, promise.’

‘Very good. Please, don’t wait up and don’t sit on the front porch with the twins, because I know you three want to do that.’

Eve slaps me on my ass, before I step out of the house and I sincerely hope that Henry hasn’t seen that. From the looks of it seems like he hasn’t seen that, but maybe he is just polite and doesn’t show me he has seen it. ‘Don’t look back,’ I tell Henry, as we walk towards his truck. ‘She’ll embarrass either one of us if we do so.’

Henry can’t help but laugh and he opens the door of his truck. ‘Do I have to give you a boost or can you manage?’

‘Oh shut up,’ I chuckle as I get in the car, after I took his hand. ‘Because I’m short, I have developed cat woman like skills. You should see me in the classroom, when I have to grab something from the top shelf.’

‘I’ll believe that right away.’ He closes the door and I wave to Eve, who nods approvingly and gestures something about how firm his butt looks. I mean, I can only agree to that, but once again, sure as hell hope he hasn’t seen any of that.

Henry gets in the truck and before he puts the key in the ignition, he looks to the side, meeting my eyes. ‘What?’ I ask him.

‘You look breathtaking,’ he whispers, almost as if he doesn’t want me to hear this compliment.

I’m at a loss for words. ‘Oh,’ I manage to choke out. ‘Thanks…’

He clears his throat. ‘I’m just a little nervous.’

‘What? Why? If someone should be nervous, it’s me. One, I’m going on a date with you and two, my last first date was sixteen years ago.’

He chuckles, but he sounds really nervous. ‘Well, mine might’ve not been that long ago… But I have never been on a date with someone like you.’

‘Do you mean that in a good way or…?’

Henry’s eyes widen. ‘In a good way, of course,’ he hastily says. ‘It’s more that you are way out of my league.’

What? ‘I think I was hallucinating. What?’

‘I mean, have you even seen yourself? You are admirable, in any way.’

Is this how it feels when your heart not only is figuratively melting, but also literally? ‘Oh.’

‘You are truly one of a kind, Amelia and I sure hope I meet up to what you deserve.’

Okay, I’m officially blanking. What are words?

Henry smiles and starts the car. ‘I hope you like the place I booked. I heard some pretty good things about it.’

✰ ✰ ✰

Leave it to Henry fucking Cavill to not only book a spot at my favorite restaurant here in town, but also to have a secluded spot that I didn’t know was here. We sit on the patio, a heater pointed at us to keep us warm, as we look over the lake. We are surrounded by romantic Christmas lights, as we sit next to each other on the soft couch. His arm is resting on the back, his thumb softly drawing circles on my shoulder.

He hands me a glass of wine and I can’t help but melt a bit against his frame. ‘You did amazing,’ I say. ‘I really like this spot. I never even knew it was here. How did you discover this?’

‘I might’ve had some help from Greg.’

‘Convenient store Greg?’ I ask. ‘You two becoming friends?’

‘Yeah, I’m there quite a lot. He sometimes watches Kal when I’m not home for too long of a time. Annabelle constantly tells him that she loves Kal, so that’s a plus.’

‘Annabelle is in my class,’ I say. ‘A true angel. A cheeky one, but she is such a delight to have in class.’

Henry smiles, taking a sip of his wine. We’re still waiting for our food to arrive, but the wine will do just fine for now. ‘It’s quite the one eighty, to go from a K-Pop idol to a kindergarten teacher.’

‘Oh, you have no idea,’ I chuckle. ‘It was so weird, to go from that hectic world, fans screaming your name, photoshoot here, there, dance practice and just never not busy, back to Luna Meadows, where every second seems to tick at least three times. I had to spend three months in the barn in the back of my parents yard, to simply talk with Eve and Johnny, getting used to this pace again. It was nice to be back here though, since this will always be my home.’

He nods. ‘So, you come back to Luna Meadows when you were eighteen, go back to college and…’

‘And I met Dean, when I was nineteen, was twenty one when I had Benji, somehow got my degree and after I graduated, I married Dean.’

‘Wow,’ he says. ‘That is top tier multitasking.’

‘That’s what I thought so,’ I chuckle, taking a sip of my wine. ‘It was really important for me to finish college, because, I wanted to be able to provide for myself and even after I graduated, I worked three days a week. I’m not equipped to be a full-time house wife. I tried that for two months and then I became mad.’

Henry laughs. ‘And now you work full-time.’

‘I do, indeed. It’s the only way I can continue to pay for the house. I don’t want to move away from Eve and her baby sit service.’

He nods in agreement. ‘You are very lucky to have friends that care so much and do so much for you.’

‘I sure am,’ I say with a smile. I take another sip, before I ask: ‘What about you? Why did you leave Jersey to move here?’

‘I was a judo coach there and worked in a cafe. However, some family stuff happened and I had to get out of there.’ Henry clears his throat and shakes his head. ‘I’m sorry.’

‘No, no, you don’t want to talk about it, I totally understand it. Just, tell me how you got into judo then.’ I turn a bit to the side and oh my, I can feel his strong body against mine, but weirdly enough it doesn’t make me nervous anymore.

‘Oh, that was something me and my grandpa had together. All of my brothers were into team sports, like lacrosse, football and rugby.’

My eyes widen. ‘You have brothers?’

‘Mhm, four,’ he says.

‘Your mom had five kids?’ I ask him.

He can’t stop his laugh. ‘She did.’

‘Mad respect,’ I say. ‘I don’t want to be too TMI, but I had to recover six years after I had Benji before I even thought about adding another one. Not the point, Amelia,’ I quickly realize letting out a soft chuckle. ‘Your brothers were into team sports.’

Henry nods, a smile evident on his lips. ‘My entire family was obsessed with everything team sport related, including us as a family. I liked to do things solo, just like my granddad and that’s how judo became our thing. My family supported me and judo, of course, but… I knew they didn’t really like the sport as much as my granddad and I liked it. When I was twenty, I was actually doing pretty well. Competing in national tournaments, even some international ones.’

I frown. ‘Why do I feel a however coming up?’ I ask him.

He snickers. ‘However, I broke my leg in three places when I was in the gym.’

‘Oh no,’ I say, as I shiver.

‘Yeah, it was pretty bad,’ he chuckles. ‘But judo was my life and I couldn’t just let it go, so I started to work as a trainer and coach, but I didn’t make enough money to provide for myself, so I also worked in a cafe.’

I nod. ‘And why did you choose Luna Meadows?’

He shrugs. ‘It just felt right. And that’s where I met the most amazing judoka I have ever seen. Benji is miles ahead of not only everyone here, but also to everyone I have ever encountered.’

‘Including you?’

‘Including me,’ he laughs. ‘He is amazing.’

‘That’s because he has some judo genes from his amazing mother,’ I chuckle, as I throw my hair over my shoulder. ‘I was quite something back in the days.’

He chuckles. ‘So, what does Isabella do?’

‘She is in a drama club. When she was younger, she would force Benji, Yara, Jake and Lola to be side characters in a play she made up, where she was the main character. She is overly dramatic and I figured that I would do the other kids a favor if I would put her in a drama club. Yara and she go every Tuesday, Wednesday and Sunday after school with Eve.’

‘It must be amazing to have a friend this close living to you.’

‘It does,’ I say, as I stare at my wine. ‘Made the whole divorce thing a whole lot better to handle.’

‘I imagine. Divorce is never easy.’

‘Experience or…?’ I carefully ask.

‘I was married,’ he says, ‘but the second we said ‘I do’, it was already a lost cause, really. Actually, we never really fit together.’

I take a sip of my wine, but I place my other hand on his strong leg. Normally I wouldn’t be this forward, but it feels so warm and comfortable. ‘Is she part of the reason that you had to leave Jersey?’

He shakes his head. ‘No, we were married from my twenty fifth to my twenty seventh.’

Okay, he doesn’t want to continue to talk about it and for some reason I can’t stop the words from coming out of my mouth. ‘You know, I never thought I’d go on a date again.’

‘Why not?’

‘Because everyone in this town knows that I got divorced and everyone had an opinion about it,’ I whisper. ‘You know, I wasn’t exactly the most loved. A lot of them thought it was my fault that Dean started to see someone else. I wasn’t a good enough wife, who didn’t love her husband enough.’

When I look up, I see that Henry has clenched his jaw, before taking a sip of his wine. ‘That’s bullshit.’

‘I know,’ I say mostly out of disbelieve. ‘But good things happen to good people and now I met you.’

‘Moving to Luna Meadows was a good move on my behalf.’

Our pasta arrives and I sit up a bit straighter. ‘This looks delicious,’ I say, twirling around my fork, to twist the spaghetti around it. ‘Henry Cavill, you sure know how to swoop a woman off her feet.’

Henry smiles, taking a bite of his pasta. It’s different than mine, but it looks delicious. I can see him ogling my plate as well and I guess the grass is indeed greener on the other side. ‘Here,’ I say, with a fork full of pasta. I hold it above my other hand, so I won’t spill something on any of us. I now realize that it might be weird to feed a grown man on our first date, but I can’t go back now.

‘You’re a natural,’ he chuckles, before taking a bite. ‘Oh, yours is really good. Want a bite of mine?’

‘Sure,’ I say with a blush creeping up on my cheeks. He is a little clumsy, but somehow manages to bring the fork to my lips, without it spilling on my dress. With his thumb he wipes the corner of my mouth clean. ‘Am I tasting some cinnamon?’

‘That was what I was thinking,’ he says. ‘I would never put cinnamon in my pasta, but it is really tasty and it actually works.’

‘I once accidentally added honey to the chicken and somehow it turned out to be pretty okay.’

‘Yeah, Benji told me you weren’t a great cook.’

I hide my face in my hands. ‘I may have burned quite a few meals in my kitchen. One time, for Thanksgiving, I attempted to cook for Eve and Johnny, because they were having a bit of a rough time, with Lola being admitted into the hospital and all. However, I burned the entire meal, the kitchen was filled with smoke and I had a complete meltdown. Isabella called my parents and somehow my mom saved the day.’

Henry’s shoulder shake as he laughs. ‘That would be quite the sight.’

‘Oh, it was terrible. Can you imagine if I was a full time housewife? I think I’d have the fire department on speed dial.’

I want to add something to this (believe me, I have tons of stories of me nearly burning down my place), but my phone starts to ring and I quickly open my clutch to check the screen.

It’s Eve.

Part of me doesn’t want to take it, but I know that she took her promise serious. ‘I’m so sorry,’ I say.

‘Please, take it,’ Henry encourages me, when he sees me hesitating.

I pick up and say: ‘Eve, this better be very important.’ However I don’t hear her voice, but I hear Benji yelling in the background and that is something I barely understand. ‘What’s wrong? Is everything okay?’

‘I have no idea,’ Eve manages to say. ‘Isabella is just sitting in the corner of your living room, not speaking at all.’ That can’t be good. ‘Benji is on the edge of losing it, but I feel like he is too much in a rage to listen to any of us and Dean is outside, trying to let himself in, but we locked the door. I’m really sorry to interrupt your date, but I feel like both of your kids need you right now.’

My heart sinks. ‘Oh no,’ I mumble. ‘I’m coming back.’

‘I hate dad,’ I hear Benji yell in the background. ‘I fucking hate him.’

‘Benji, please stop it!’ Lola pleads.

‘This is not working, man,’ Jake adds.

‘Mom, Isabella is crying,’ Yara says.

I hang up, shaking my head. ‘I’m so sorry, Henry, I have to get back. Something is really wrong and according to Eve, Benji is really close to losing it completely and Isabella is not talking, Dean is outside of my house…’

‘I heard it,’ he says, already standing up, holding up my coat. ‘Let me get you home.’