#potato chips making machine for small business

[newbusinessideas]

Potato Chips Manufacturing Business Plan - The Ultimate Guide

Ready to turn potatoes into profit? Check out these tips for launching your own potato chips manufacturing business! Let's crunch our way to success together! #ChipsMasterclass #BizTok #potatochipsmachine #manufacturingbusinessideas

Potato chips are one of the most popular ready-to-eat snack items globally. Today everyone likes potato chips, whether small or big, and everyone likes to eat crunchy chips. There are many flavours of potato chips available In the market, some of which include flavours like salty, tangy, chilli, garlic, onion, butter etc. Hence, today the demand for potato chips Is very high. And, many companies…

[economodefood]

Fully Automatic Potato Chips Making Machine Price

Potato chips have gained widespread popularity as a snack food worldwide, resulting in a surge in demand. Potato chips manufacturers have responded to this by incorporating an affordable fully potato chips machine price. This modern line of equipment enables the efficient and high-quality production of potato chips on a large scale.

A fully automatic potato chips line comprises a range of machines that perform different functions throughout the manufacturing process. These machines include a potato slicer, potato washing machine, potato blanching machine, potato frying machine, potato de-oiling machine, seasoning machine, and packaging machine. These parts come within a budget for chips making machine price.

The semi-automatic potato chips making machine price is determined by various factors, including machine capacity, quality, and brand. However, the high production output and efficiency of the line usually offset the potato chips making machine price.

In a nutshell, the fully automatic potato chips line has brought about a significant change in the potato chips manufacturing industry by streamlining the production process on a large scale. If you’re planning to launch a potato chips manufacturing company, investing in Economode’s fully automatic potato chips line is a wise decision. Despite the high initial expense, the benefits of this technology will become evident in the long run.

How fully automatic potato chips machine benefit potato chips manufacturers?

Potato chips are a highly popular snack food that has seen a significant increase in demand globally. However, manufacturers face the challenge of keeping up with this demand while maintaining high-quality products. The solution to this challenge is Economode’s affordable potato chips frying machine price, which offers various benefits to manufacturers.

Increased Production Capacity

One significant benefit of this budget-friendly potato chips machine price is its increased production capacity. This is achieved through the use of high-speed machines that can perform various tasks such as slicing, washing, blanching, frying, seasoning, and packaging in a short period. The machines are also designed to operate continuously, which reduces downtime and increases productivity.

Improved Quality Control

Another benefit of that comes with affordable semi-automatic potato chips making machine price is the improved quality control it provides. The affordable chips making machine price is equipped with sensors that monitor the production process to ensure that the potato chips meet the required quality standards. This helps to detect any defects, allowing for immediate corrective action, which leads to better products, higher customer satisfaction, and increased sales.

Reduced Labor Costs

The potato chips line also significantly reduces labor costs. Since the machines perform most of the tasks that would otherwise require human labor, this leads to significant savings for manufacturers. Additionally, the potato chips making machine price is competitive & can operate 24/7 without fatigue or the need for breaks, reducing the need for additional staff and increasing productivity.

Consistent Product Quality

Consistent product quality is another benefit of the affordable fully automatic potato chips making machine price. The machines are programmed to perform tasks precisely, which ensures that the potato chips have uniform thickness, texture, and flavor. This consistency in quality is essential in maintaining customer loyalty and increasing sales.

Reduced Energy Consumption

Compared to traditional manufacturing methods, the fully automatic potato chips line also reduces energy consumption. The machines are designed to operate efficiently, using minimal energy to perform tasks. Additionally, the machines use modern technology such as heat exchangers and automatic temperature control, which reduces energy waste and costs.

Increased Profit Margins

Investing in a budget friendly potato chips frying machine price can increase profit margins for manufacturers. The increased production capacity, improved quality control, and reduced labor and energy costs translate to higher profits. Moreover, the consistent product quality and customer satisfaction lead to repeat business and increased sales.

Competitive Advantage

The potato chips machine price is affordable & also provides a competitive advantage to manufacturers in the market. It enables manufacturers to produce high-quality potato chips at a lower cost, which translates to lower prices for consumers. This advantage leads to increased market share and a stronger brand image.

In conclusion, investing in a affordable chips making machine price is a valuable investment for potato chips manufacturers. Though the cost varies depending on the capacity and quality of the machines, the benefits far outweigh the initial investment. If you are a potato chips manufacturer looking to improve your production process, the fully automatic potato chips line is the way to go.

Fully automatic potato chips line capacity

A semi-automatic potato chips making machine price is competitive and also is an advanced manufacturing system that handles the entire process of potato chip production from raw potatoes to packaged chips with minimal human intervention. These production lines are equipped with high-tech machines and sensors that perform various tasks like slicing, washing, blanching, frying, seasoning, and packaging the chips. The potato chips making machine’s price is affordable and its production depends on the size and quality of the machines used in the line.

Smaller lines can produce 50-100 kg of chips per hour, while larger lines can produce up to 500 kg or more per hour. However, the production capacity can be influenced by factors like the type of potato used, chip thickness, and seasoning requirements.

Investing in our affordable fully automatic potato chips making machine price can offer several benefits such as increased production capacity, reduced labor costs, and improved product quality. The potato chips frying machine price depends on the capacity and quality of the machines, but the benefits outweigh the initial investment. Here at Economode, we consider the production needs and goals when choosing a fully automatic potato chips line that meets your specific business requirements.

[crowfootwrites]

I've been re-watching Law & Order: SVU from the beginning again and this go 'round seems to have inspired something in me.

If you follow me for Star Trek stuff, I hope you stick around; I still have lots of ST content I'm trying to work on. But I also have some SVU headcanon that I've been working on, so here you go! 😅

This HC prompt is from @silentshayshores-2! Featuring Olivia, Elliot, Amanda, Sonny, Rafael, Munch, Fin, Nick, and Casey.

Something small that they enjoy?

Olivia Benson:

Olivia loves a good nature documentary. Not only do they help her unwind after some long, hard days at the precinct or on the move, but they also help remind her about the beauty in the world, effectively counteracting some of the terrible things she sees on a daily basis. They’re even more effective if she can watch them on the couch with you curled up beside her.

Elliot Stabler: 

Elliot has spent literal years of his life making meals out of vending machine offerings, but his all-time favorite are sour cream and onion potato chips. He has a weak spot for them and will order them as a side to his sandwiches or grab a bag out of a machine whenever he can. It’s almost nostalgic, but not necessarily in a positive way, as he considers all the times he couldn’t make it home for dinner and had to make do with chips, pretzels, sodas, or cold coffee.

Amanda Rollins: 

She might be a little self-conscious about it, but Amanda has a thing for music boxes from her childhood – despite having been something of a tomboy, she always appreciated their beauty and fragility. She’s got twirling ballerinas in pink tutus, carousel horses, a snowglobe from Orange Beach, Alabama with sea turtles floating around in it that plays “Down by the Bay”… She also hangs onto them because her girls love them.

Sonny Carisi: 

Sonny’s all about a good cup of coffee – he’ll drink the swill brewed at the station if absolutely necessary, but he’d always rather indulge in a quality cup of coffee. It’s even sweeter if you’re the one to bring it to him or if he can share it with you.

Rafael Barba: 

Edith Piaf – I HC that Rafael loves vinyl and uses his record player whenever he’s home. He loves classical and jazz, which make him feel refined (and calm when he’s had a rough day in the office) and he has a soft spot for chansons realiste, of which Edith Piaf is his favorite performer.

John Munch: 

John Munch loves a stand-up comedy special and you can’t convince me otherwise. With his quick wit and cleverness, I think Munch secretly harbors a belief that he could have been a comic in another life. He loves to watch the specials, especially classics like George Carlin, who we know Munch appreciates for his critique of the American landscape.

Fin Tutuola: 

A good deck of playing cards; although we know Fin is pretty handy with a video game controller, he feels there’s something timeless about sitting around a table with friends or family members shooting the breeze and playing cards. Speed is your game of choice, so Fin’s been challenging your reign pretty insistently, determined to beat you at your own game.

Nick Amaro: 

Where the Wild Things Are – Zara used to beg Nick to read to her before bed whenever he was home, and this was almost always her choice. He keeps a copy of it on his nightstand after Maria and Zara move to DC to remind him of those soft, slow memories of reading with his baby girl.

Casey Novak: 

Casey loves it when you bring her lunch at the office. She’s almost always too busy to remember to eat, so to have food brought to her, accompanied by your smiling face is something that will always get her to slow down and take care of herself, even if only for 15 minutes. It could literally be a sandwich and a cup of coffee and she’d still look at you like you hung the moon.

[a-tohmic]

Social Media Is Not Self-Expression

by Rob Horning, 2014

1. Subjectivation is not a flowering of autonomy and freedom; it's the end product of procedures that train an individual in compliance and docility. One accepts structuring codes in exchange for an internal psychic coherence. Becoming yourself is not a growth process but a surrender of possibilities that we learn to regard as egregious, unbecoming. "Being yourself" is inherently limiting. It is liberatory only in the sense of freeing one temporarily from existential doubts. (Not a small thing!) So the social order is protected not by preventing "self-expression" and identity formation but encouraging it as a way of forcing people to limit and discipline themselves — to take responsibility for building and cleaning their own cage. Thus, the dissemination of social-media platforms becomes a flexible tool for social control. The more that individuals express through these codified, networked, formatted means to construct a "personal brand" identity, the more they self-assimilate, adopting the incentive structures of capitalist social order as their own. (The machinations of Big Data make this more obvious. The more data you supply, the more the algorithms can determine your reality.) Expunge the seriality built into these platforms, embrace a more radical form of difference.

2. In an essay about PJ Harvey's 4-Track Demos, Michael Barthel writes:

While she was able to hole up in a seaside restaurant and produce a masterpiece, I need constant feedback and encouragement in order not to end up curled in some dark corner of my house, eating potato chips and refreshing my Tumblr feed in the hope that someone will have “liked” my Photoshopped picture of Kanye West in a balloon chair.

He's being a bit facetious, but this is basically what I'm trying to get at above: the difference between an inner-directed process of discovery and a kind of outer-directed pseudo-creativity that in its pursuit of attention gets overwhelmed by desperation. I'm trading in a very dubious kind of dichotomizing here, I know — artists make a lot of great work for no greater purpose than attention-seeking, and the idea that anything is truly "inner-directed" may be a ideological illusion, given how we all develop interiority in relation to a social world that precedes us and enables us to survive. But what I am trying to emphasize here is how production in social media is often sold to users of these platforms as self-expressive creativity, as self-discovery, as an elaboration of the self even, but it is really a narrowing of the self to the reductive, defensive aim of getting recognition, reassurance of one's own existence, that one belongs. That kind of "creativity" may crowd out the more antisocial kind that may entail reclusion, social disappearance, indifference to reputation and social capital, to being someone in particular in a network. Self-invention in social media that is perpetually in search of "feedback" is really just the production of communication, which gives value not to the self but to the network that gets to carry more data (and store it, and sell it).

Actual "self-invention" — if we are measuring it in range of expressivity — appears more like self-dissolution. We're born into social life and shaped by it; self-discovery may thus entail a destruction of social bonds, not a sounding of them.

Barthel lauds the "demos, experiments, collaborative public works, jokes, notes, reading lists, sketches, appreciations, outbursts of pique" that are "absolutely vital to continuing the business of creation." But the degree that these are all affixed to a personal brand when serially broadcast on social media depletes their vitality. If PJ Harvey released the demos as she made them to a Myspace page, would there ever have been a finished Rid of Me? Would the end product merely have been PJ Harvey, as the fecund musician?

Social media structure creative effort (e.g., Barthel's list above) ideologically as "self-creating," but they often end up as anxiety-inducing, exposing the self's ad hoc incompleteness while structuring the demand for a fawning audience to complete us, validate every effort, as a natural expectation. Validation is nice, but as a goal for creative effort, it is somewhat limited. The quest for validation must inevitably restrict itself to the tools of attracting attention: the blunt instruments of novelty and prurience  ("Kanye West in a balloon chair"). The self one tries to express tends to be new, exciting, confessional, sexy, etc., because it plays as an advertisement. Identity is a series of ads for a product that doesn't exist.

The process can't quell anxiety; this kind of self-expression can only intensify it, focus it onto a few social-media posts that await judgment, narrow it to the latest instances of sharing. Social media's quantifying metrics aggravate the problem, making expression into a series of discrete items to be counted, ranked. It serves as the infrastructure for a feedback loop that orients expression toward the anxiety of what the numbers will be and accelerates it, as we try to better those numbers, and thereby demonstrate that the self-monitoring is teaching us something about how to become more "relevant."

The alternative would seem to be a sort of deep focus in isolation, in which one accepts the incompleteness that comes from being apart from an audience, that comes from not seeking final judgment on what one is doing and letting it remain ambiguous, open-ended, of the present moment and not assimilated to an archive of identity. To put that tritely: The best way to be yourself is to not be anybody in particular but to just be.

3. So is the solution to get off the Internet? If social media structure social behavior this way, just don't use them, right? Problem solved. Paul Miller's 2013 account at the Verge of his year without Internet use suggests it's not so simple. Miller went searching for "meaning" offline, fearing that Internet use was reducing his attention span and preoccupying him with trivia. It turns out that, after a momentary shock of having his habits disrupted, Miller fell back into the same feelings of ambient discontent, only spiked with a more intense feeling of loneliness. It's hard to escape the idea of a "connected world" all around you, and there is no denying that being online metes out "connectedness" in measured, addictive doses. But those doses contain real sociality, and they are reshaping society collectively. Whether or not you use social media personally, your social being is affected by that reshaping. You don't get to leave all of society's preoccupations behind.

Facebook is possibly more in the foreground for those who don't use it than for those who have accepted it as social infrastructure. You have to expend more effort not knowing a meme than letting it pass through you. Social relations are not one-way; you can't dictate how they are on the basis of personal preference. As Miller puts it, describing his too-broad, too pointed defiance of the social norms around him, "I fell out of sync with the flow of life." Pretending you can avoid these social aspects of life because they are supposedly external, artificial, inauthentic, and unreal, is to have a very impoverished idea of reality, of authenticity, of unique selfhood.

The inescapable reciprocity of social relations comes into much sharper relief when you stop using social media, which thrive on the basis of the control over reciprocity they try to provide. They give a crypto-dashboard to social life, making it seem like a personal consumption experience, but that is always an illusion, always scattered by the anxiety of waiting, watching for responses, and by the whiplash alternation between omnipotence and vulnerability.

Miller's fable ends up offering the lesson that the digital and the physical are actually interpenetrated, and all the personal problems he recognizes in himself aren't a matter of technologically mediated social reality but are basically his fault. This seems too neat of a moral to this story. Nothing is better for protecting the status quo than convincing people that their problems are their own and are entirely their personal responsibility. This is basically how neoliberalism works: "personal responsibility" is elevated over the possibility of collective action, a reiteration of requirement to "express oneself" as an isolated self, free of social determination, free for "whatever."

What is odd is that the connectivity of the internet exacerbates that sort of neoliberal ideology rather than mitigating it. Connectivity atomizes rather than collectivizes. But that is because most people's experience of the internet is mediated by capitalist entities, or rather, for the sake of simplicity, by capitalism itself. You can go offline, but that doesn't remove you from the alienating properties of life in capitalist society. So the same "personal problems" the Internet supposedly made you experience still exist for you if you go offline, because you are still in a capitalist society. Capitalist imperatives are still shaping your subjectivity, structuring your time and your experience of curiosity, leisure, work, life. The internet is not the problem; capitalism is the problem.

Social media offer a single profile for our singular identity, but our consciousness comprises multiple forms of identity simultaneously: We are at once a unique bundle of sense impressions and memories, and a social individual imbued with a collectively constructed sense of value and possibility. Things like Facebook give the impression that these different, contestable and often contradictory identities (and their different contexts) can be conveniently flattened out, with users suddenly having more control and autonomy in their piloting through everyday life. That is not only what for-profit companies like Facebook want, but it is also what will feel natural to subjects already accustomed to capitalist values of convenience, capitalist imperatives for efficiency, and so on.

So Miller is right to note that "the internet isn't an individual pursuit, it's something we do with each other. The internet is where people are." That's part of why simply abandoning it won't enhance our sense of freedom or selfhood. But because we "do" the internet with each other as capitalist subjects, we use it to intensify the social relations familiar from capitalism, with all the asymmetries and exploitation that comes with it. We "do" it as isolated nodes, letting social-media services further suppress our sense of collectivity and possibility. The work of being online doesn't simply fatten profits for Facebook; it also reproduces the condition that make Facebook necessary. As Lazzarato puts it, immaterial "labour produces not only commodities, but first and foremost the capital relationship."

4. Exodus won't yield freedom. The problem is not that the online self is “inauthentic” and the offline self is real; it’s that the self derived from the data processing of our digital traces doesn’t correspond with our active efforts to shape an offline/online hybrid identity for our genuine social ties. What seems necessary instead is a way to augment our sense of "transindividuality," in which social being doesn't come at the expense of individuality. This might be a way out of the trap of capitalist subjectivity, and the compulsive need to keep serially producing in a condition of anxiety to seem to manifest and discover the self as some transcendent thing at once unfettered by and validated through social mediation. Instead of using social media to master the social component of our own identity, we must use them to better balance the multitudes within.

[nichromepackagingmachine]

Crunching the Numbers: How to Choose the Perfect Snack Packaging Machine

Crunching the Numbers: How to Choose the Perfect Snack Packaging Machine

In today’s snacking world, keeping your munchies fresh, safe, and irresistible is more crucial than ever. That’s where snack packaging machines come into play—transforming your snack game from homemade to high-tech. But with so many options out there, how do you choose the right machine for your business?

Enter Nichrome’s snack packaging solutions—your ultimate ally in the snack world! Our Vertical Form Fill Seal (VFFS) range, including the Wing 200 E-Line Snack Pack and Sprint 250, delivers exceptional performance. With advanced features like PLC controls, touch screen interfaces, and servo motor-driven sealing systems, Nichrome’s machines are designed to handle diverse snacks efficiently. With over ten thousand successful installations worldwide, Nichrome ensures you get the perfect machine to meet your needs and future-proof your snack packaging operations.

Here’s how Nichrome does it –

Size Matters: Machine Capacity Before you start dreaming of snack-filled success, consider the capacity of your packaging machine. Whether you’re a small-scale snack artisan or a major player in the snack industry, your machine needs to keep up with your production volume. Think of it as your snack machine’s superpower—will it need to churn out hundreds or thousands of packs per hour? Choose wisely to avoid any hiccups in your snack-tastic journey!

Flexibility Is Key: Intended Use Are you packaging a variety of snacks or focusing on a specific type? Your snack packaging machine should be as versatile as your snack lineup. From crispy chips to savory namkeen, your machine should be adaptable enough to handle different products without a hitch. Look for machines that offer flexibility and easy adjustments to cater to diverse snack needs.

Feature-Fest: Machine Options When it comes to snack packaging, one size doesn’t fit all. Compare features across different machines to find the one that suits your needs best. Automatic, semi-automatic, or manual—what’s your pick? Additionally, if your lineup includes powdery substances or liquid snacks, make sure your machine can handle these special cases with ease. It’s all about finding the perfect fit for your snack-tastic operations!

Maintenance Matters: Machine Upkeep No one likes a high-maintenance diva, and your snack packaging machine is no exception. Regular maintenance is key to keeping your machine in tip-top shape. Look for machines that are easy to clean and maintain, and check the availability of replacement parts. This will ensure your machine stays reliable and your snacks stay fresh, without breaking the bank.

Plan for the Future: Growth Potential Is your business ready to expand? Make sure your snack packaging machine can grow with you. Opt for machines that can be upgraded or adapted as your business evolves. A future-proof machine will save you from costly replacements and keep your snack game strong as you scale up.

Speed and Efficiency: Packaging Speed Speed thrills, especially when it comes to packaging. Consider how fast you need your snack packaging machine to be. Efficient machinery means quicker turnaround times and less manual labor, so your snacks hit the shelves faster. If speed is the name of the game, investing in top-notch snack packaging machinery will be a game-changer.

Durability: Built to Last Snack packaging machines are a substantial investment, so durability is crucial. Look for machines designed for long-term use, with features that ensure easy and inexpensive upgrades. Your machine should stand the test of time and market demands, providing reliable service well into the future.

Versatility: Snack Variety From dry fruits to potato chips, your machine should handle a variety of snacks with ease. A versatile machine can package everything from candies and pasta to cereals and grains. This adaptability will help you keep up with changing market trends and customer preferences.

Conclusion

Choosing the right snack packaging machine is essential for keeping your business fresh and competitive. With Nichrome’s cutting-edge solutions, you’ll have the perfect partner to ensure your snacks are packaged with precision and flair. Whether you’re a snack newbie or a seasoned pro, Nichrome is here to make your packaging process a breeze. Ready to elevate your snack game? Let’s get packing! Learn More:

[tlhgeek-blog]

New Vegas New Problems Session 2

After deciding to make the patrol station a temporary camp the group split up to go about various attempts at foraging and hunting for food. Chao-Chao and Charlie found a bounty of Brain Fungus and wild carrots in the shade of a rocky outcrop, while Vesper found a ripe batch of prickly pear cactus. Vesper’s attempts to harvest the prickly pears were successful however not without Vesper managing to pull a pod of the cactus directly onto themselves. Which while painful and embarrassing was not a serious injury.

Wanda reviewed and stored the loot they recovered from the raiders while Roy kept watch. Wanda quickly realized that they found no signs of a food or water supply. At which point she decided to search in the nearby garage for the patrol station, a separate smaller building from the rest as well as checking in the scattered cargo containers behind the patrol station. While the containers were either empty or sealed shut by centuries of rust and wear the caravan was able to break into the garage. 

There they found the rather limited supply of food and water the bandits had stashed away. The food stash consisted of a handful of boxes of Sugar Bombs, Blamco Mac & Cheese, some canned dog food, a tin of potato crisps and a sealed pack of gum drops. The ‘water’ supply consisted of 3 unopened bottles of beer. Wanda also found a first aid kit half-buried between 2 of the rusted shut containers.

The night watch was uneventful though in the morning the caravan discovered that the raider bodies they had dumped downwind of the station had been chewed on by a variety of wasteland critters.

The caravan continued to travel up north to Primm while Wanda fiddled with the radio tied to Moo-lasses the Brahmin. While Radio New Vegas had a strong signal the various NCR radio stations degraded into static out in the Mojave. The only other coherent station Wanda found was Mojave Entertainment Radio which played catchy but loud and distracting music that according to the Host all came from the same pre-war rock band. Wanda decided to swap back to Radio New Vegas for now as the music variety and news was more pleasant to listen to as they walked down the crumbling pre-war highway.

Primm was a lively little town mostly focused on the 3 businesses that kept it relevant. The Vikki & Vance Casino was a small taste of the gambling and drinking available  in the New Vegas Strip. The Bison Steve Hotel provided a much desired place of rest and relaxation on the long trek from New Vegas to the Hub and vice versa.  Lastly the local dispatch office for the Mojave Express courier service was a vital business that continued to bring trade and caps into the community even outside of ‘tourist season’.

The Vikki & Vance Casino was the first port of call for Charlie and a reluctant Vesper that Charlie enthusiastically dragged along. After converting some caps and in Charlies case NCR dollars into chips, Charlie gave Vesper some dubious guidance on how to gamble and play Blackjack. After seeing Vesper win a few hands Charlie happily wandered off to play the slot machines.

Vesper excused themselves and cashed out immediately after Charlie wandered away. Charlie played for several hours until his winning the jackpot on his machine also resulted in it jamming and sparking violently. After which he was politely asked by the floor manager Gerard Stevens to leave for the day until they could investigate and repair the slot machine.

Wanda, Roy and Chao-Chao stabled Moo-lasses in the safe area inside the ruined roller coaster behind the Bison Steve Hotel. Wanda arranged for two rooms for the caravan as well as a few showers for herself, a pricy luxury but one Wanda was eager to indulge in. The Hotel offered reasonably priced meals with a complimentary glass of clean water. It also offered security safes and a working laundry service. 

In the process of gaining the service the Proprietor Old Laurie mentioned concerns over some rough characters that she had to kick out that came from up north and left the same way. She also noted they had what looked like partial NCR Uniforms so they might be deserters or raiders that took out NCR troops.

Wanda spent little time in the Casino however she did decide to make her way over to the Mojave Express Dispatch and after speaking with Johnson Nash she decided to sign up as a courier as well. After a simple test Wanda received a provisional couriers certification and was informed she would have to speak to the Mojave Express Headquarters in New Vegas. Mr. Nash also mentioned that there is one other Mojave Express Dispatch Office active outside of Primm and New Vegas. That being the one in Searchlight another NCR settlement. There used to be one in Boulder City but it was destroyed in the fighting there between the Legion and the NCR.

After staying a few days and Charlie winning enough to get banned from gambling at the Vikki & Vance Casino the caravan left heading north. Vesper also noticed that Loretta his pet Nightstalker was eerily sneaky and seemed able to keep out of sight from the locals.

 Unfortunately a dust storm came rolling in about halfway between Primm and Jean Aviation, a pre-war abandoned airfield. The group began hustling towards the airfield in hopes of finding shelter from the storm. Chao-Chao became distracted from tracking his elevation as he flew higher to attempt to see in the storm, resulting in Vesper losing track of them and walking directly under the jet holding Chao-Chao aloft. This set Vespers hair on fire and while quickly put out in the wind and dust left a foul smell, frizzled hairs and a small temporary bald spot on the top of Vesper's head. Despite that distraction the party did spot figures ducking into the handful of ruined buildings in the airfield.

The ‘Pickles’ Caravan now has to contend with trying to get out of the storm while dealing with possibly hostile individuals in the various buildings. We shall see how they fare next time in New Vegas, New Problems. 

[industrysolutionsblog]

Guide to Make not Gold but Potato Chips

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One of the most popular ready-to-eat snack foods in India is potato chips. And with a minimal initial financial outlay, any individual can launch a small manufacturing project. We will provide you with information in this article that will help you launch your own home-based potato chip manufacturing business. Complete project reports, cost estimates, and other processes are included in the article. Everyone's most popular snack is potato chips. You may start a small-scale potato chip manufacturing project at home with just a minimal initial investment. Even in the early stages, you may just need to invest a modest amount of money and you can still anticipate real profits. Potato chips are in high demand right now. Chip demand is rising as the number of people relying on fast food rises. The demand for homemade potato chips in the Indian market is anticipated to rise by about 4% annually over the next few years.

Homemade potato chips are becoming more and more popular and in demand due to their accessibility and affordability. It is also becoming a part of our constantly evolving way of life. Chips are seen as a low-fat, healthful alternative to wholesome foods. This indicates that the market demand will continue to rise in the foreseeable future.

Raw Material: The potato is a key raw ingredient that is needed. However, you must be careful while buying potatoes. You must gather potatoes with huge, oval shapes that are free of illness and fully ripe. Additionally, it needs to have the fewest possible eyeballs in order to trim losses. Generally speaking, the amount of raw material needed will depend on the flavours you plan to produce and sell. You can require several components that can be used to flavour the chips.

Profitability: Manufacturing commercial potato chips is a thriving industry. The company guarantees a healthy margin. However, the number of internal and external factors will determine how much profit you make. Therefore, you might consider lowering the cost price if you wish to raise the profit margin. Also, if you can boost sales volume, this type of merchandise ensures a larger margin. Increasing sales volume guarantees lower costs for transportation, infrastructure, and labor.

Market Size: “Potato chips are the most popular salted snack item globally. Additionally, the demand is increasing day by day. The global potato chips market is expected to grow at a CAGR of 4.3%, during the period 2017-2022, to reach a market value of USD 40.3 billion by 2022.” The potato chips business is expanding quickly for a number of reasons, both directly and indirectly. Increasing young people, rising disposable incomes, easy access, and changing lifestyles are a few of the causes. The development of this industry is also aided by the advent of healthier substitutes, such as low-fat and low-sodium chips, in growing regions. The most popular potato chip packaging on the market is in pouch packages. Additionally, the primary institutional purchasers of this item are hotels, restaurants, and caterers. The product also has excellent export potential. The most well-known brands of potato chips include Lay's, Pringles, Uncle Chipps, Haldiram's, Ruffles, Bingo, Tastilo, and many more.

Machinery

Potato Washing Peeling Machine

Potato Slicing Machine 

Belt Conveyor potato blanching machine 

Automatic Potato Chips continues frying machine

Potato Chips Dehydrator and deoiling machine 

Rotary drum chips flavoring machine 

Chips packaging machine 

Licenses and Approvals:

You will need to apply for many government permits and registrations before you can begin your business. You must first register the business with ROC. However, a proprietorship firm may also be established as a small plant. Register for MSME Udyog Aadhaar and a trade license. You must also obtain FSSAI approval. 

Know more about profitable business of Rose Water Extraction .

Get into the profitable business of potato chips.

[leam1983]

Microsoft and Project Pluto

I've been doing some digging around Microsoft's future plans, seeing how more or less astroturfing several manufacturers into releasing TPM 2.0-compliant potatoes that can barely run Windows 11 seems to have gone over well.

Welp, their long-term goal is to lock down AMD and Intel-based compliant systems to be forced to execute and sign on Microsoft code alone. As in, no bootloader, no Linux, no picking the most lightweight option for your server stack if you're in IT professionally - Windows or bust. Installing Linux on machines like this would force hardware devs to issue the proper certs on their own, instead of working like they have for the past twenty or so years and just close their eyes, agree to a standard - usually Microsoft's - and hit Go. There's also talks to tie Windows Update with your system kernel, which means that in practice, the House that Gates Built could steal a page from Ubuntu and find a way to issue kernel revisions while the OS is still running. It's also possible that they could use that to push non-mandatory, but recommended updates onto you, potentially undoing previously-used features or maybe bricking your rig, depending on your hardware setup.

Seeing how Satya Nadella's response to entry-tier hardware barely managing to run Windows 11 as their stock OS was to basically shrug and go "Welp, just go buy a nicer PC! Here's a list of affiliates!", I think we can fear the worst.

If it really falls down to motherboard or chip manufacturers not taking whatever payola M$ might hit them with, we're effectively screwed. We've known for years, now, that Microsoft wants to lock down the PC ecosystem to something closer to Apple's own walled garden. Their stated pretense is usually added security at the corporate level, but I'm really dreading the future of what's both my job and my hobby if it all boils down to me choosing a locked-down box with an apple-shaped logo or a locked-down box with four squares on it.

Windows worming its way into my firmware's microcode.

The very thought makes me queasy. Oh, and all the normies are going to settle with an eye-roll and a sigh, of course. I've heard it all before. "They're making computers easier to use, isn't that a good thing?! Whatever man, you'll whine and bitch and then load up Steam to benchmark things as usual, so why the Hell do you care that much?"

This isn't about ease of use. This is about control. I own every screw, every chip, every via and fan blade in my two rigs. I own them. The data that's on them is also mine, within reason.

If Microsoft has its way, we'll all be subletting our ability to do our damn jobs, as fucking dystopian as it seems. How the fuck do you think sysadmins at the corporate level are going to take to someone at Microsoft pushing a revision on Windows 12 or whatever, and settling with a pithy apology for all the late-in-cycle computer parks and IT budgets they've just ruined? Fuck, my boss practically has a panic attack whenever one of the kids in the call centre fucks up a headset or a mouse pad; I can't imagine how she'll take to repeated wholesale overhauls of our workstations because someone at Redmond decided to shorten the shelf life of a perfectly good product!

One of the top dogs came up to me a few days back and started joshing around. "But seriously man, why are you making us use Linux, bro? Like, everyone knows Windows!"

I smiled. "You're running off of a reskinned Ubuntu MATE, Steve, because if I asked you to buy me ten thou's worth of Windows 11 licenses and then told you we'll need to add new hardware to make 'em run, you'd rip my badge from my jacket, piss in my trash can and send me home without so much as a please and a thank you. Using my method, all you had to deal with was one afternoon's worth of file migrations and budget enough for eight PowerPoint slides, a twenty-minute break and some extra coffee, to train everyone."

Sometimes, small-to-medium business heads can be absolute idiots.

[newbusinessideas]

How to Start a Banana Chips Making Business with Small Machine

Banana chips are commonly fried pieces of banana, also known as banana wafers, and are made using raw bananas. And it is a very popular type of snack, they are used by people of every class and every age, economically divided. Although Potato chips are indeed sold and consumed more than banana chips. Despite this, Banana Chips are asked in the market by a particular category and people also like…

[economodefood]

Top 10 Benefits of Investing in Quality Potato Chips Making Machine

Creating quality potato chips and profitable potato chips simultaneously can be a challenging task for snack makers however with the use of advanced and good-quality potato chips making machines both objectives can be achieved at once.

A quality machine typically consists of several components, including a conveyor belt, slicing system, frying chamber, and seasoning system. Potato chip production lines in India come in various sizes and capacities, ranging from small-scale machines for home use to large industrial machines that can produce thousands of bags of potato chips per hour. These machines are commonly used in snack food factories, food processing plants, and large commercial kitchens. They can help to automate the production process, increase efficiency, and ensure consistent quality and taste of the potato chips.

How to analyse a quality potato chips making line?

Material: A quality machine is made of high-quality stainless steel or other durable materials that can withstand frequent use and resist corrosion.

Production capacity: The capacity of a quality fully automatic potato chips line in terms of the number of potato chips it can produce in a given time. You must choose a machine that suits your needs and production capacity.

Cutting technology: The cutting technology used in the machine is efficient and produces uniform potato slices. An advanced Potato Chips machine in Bangladesh is able to adjust the thickness of the potato slices.

Energy efficiency: A machine that is energy-efficient and does not consume too much power, which can save you money in the long run.

Easy to clean and maintain: A machine that is easy to clean and maintain, as this can save you time and effort.

After-sales service and support: A potato chips line manufacturer from whom you buy a machine offers good after-sales service and support, including training and technical assistance if a quality and advanced machine is provided to you.

Benefits of Investing in Quality potato chips production line

As the demand for potato chips continues to increase worldwide, investing in a quality potato chip-making machine can be a game-changer for any business. The potato chips line manufacturer offers quality machines in countries like India, Bangladesh, Kenya, Uganda, Nigeria, and UAE.

Here are the top 10 benefits of investing in a quality potato chips making machine:

Consistent quality: 

Quality potato chips making lines can produce consistent and high-quality chips every time, which helps establish a good reputation for your brand. Being able to deliver your customers a consistent taste and quality is a crucial element for a successful potato chip business.

Increased efficiency:

Investing in a high-quality machine can increase production efficiency and reduce labor costs, resulting in higher profits. In comparison to other types of traditional and low-quality machines, you can get a greater output in less span of time and with less labour investment hence increasing overall profit.

Wide range of products: 

The market demands an extensive range of flavours and spices, and it becomes tough to produce a variety of flavoured chips by using low-quality machines. 

However, with the right equipment, you can produce a wide range of potato chip products, including flavoured and speciality chips, expanding your business potential.

Improved hygiene:   

High-grade fully automatic potato chips lines have advanced features that help maintain a clean and hygienic environment, ensuring the safety of the food produced.

Cost-effective: 

Although the initial investment may seem high, investing in the right Potato Chips machine can reduce maintenance and repair costs in the long run, making it a cost-effective solution.

Lower waste: 

A good machine can significantly reduce waste, resulting in lower material costs and higher profits.

Energy-efficient:Many modern potato chips making machines are designed to be energy-efficient, which can help reduce electricity costs.

Easy to operate: 

A quality potato chips making line is designed to be easy to operate, even for inexperienced personnel, reducing training costs.

Versatile: 

The right machine can handle various types of potatoes, cutting styles, and seasonings, allowing you to produce a diverse range of products.

Competitive edge: 

Investing in a quality machine can give your business a competitive edge over others, as it enables you to produce chips of consistent quality and a wide variety of flavours.

In conclusion, investing in a quality potato chips making machine can have a positive impact on your business by improving efficiency, reducing costs, and increasing profits.

[nanashinohime]

So here`s some more detailed stuff about Saezuru Tori wa Habatakanai Guild collab cafe at Toriko Ikebukuro. The cafe is held from March 1 to 28 at Toriko Ikebukuro. You need to reserve in advance for the cafe. For the regular seats you need to pay 500 yen for the entrance/reservation fee after the cafe staff check your reservation email. For the VIP seats, it costs 4000 yen (the entrance fee is already included here). Unlike the regular seat, you need to pay it in advance. After the staff confirmed your reservation, you`ll receive Yashiro`s business card.

For the cafe menu, there are 6 items. You can only order 3 items at a time so if you plan to order more, you need to fall in line again. For every order, you`ll also receive one random trump card (6 designs). They are also selling poker-chip like acrylic coasters in the cafe however, you can only order one for every one food/drink item that you ordered. Unlike the trump card, you can choose the design (6 designs for the coaster). The acrylic coaster costs 600 yen and here`s the food menu:

1. オーナー矢代のローストビーフバーガー＆マシューポテト (Owner Yashiro`s Roast Beef Burger and Mashed Potato, 1200 yen)

-I didn`t order this earlier but i saw someone ordering it and the burger looks really small and probably won`t make you full.

2.ディーラー百目鬼の黒ゴマアイスプレート (Dealer Doumeki`s Black Sesame Ice cream plate, 1200 yen)

-Ordered this earlier and i really like the black sesame ice cream

3.チアーズシャンパンゼリ (Cheers Champagne Jelly, 700 yen)

-I also ordered this. The jelly is non-alcholic BTW.

4.ホットアクアマリン (Hot Aqua Marine, 900 yen)

-This is the only hot drink in the menu.

5.チャコールレモネード (Charcoal Lemonade, 850 yen  

6.ルビーワインスカッシュ (Ruby Wine Squash, 850 yen)

-I also ordered this. Its the only alcoholic drink in the menu but the percentage of the alcohol is really low (1 percent). Also, jelly is mixed in the wine. Was really surprised to find jelly when i drank it.

Here`s the food that i ordered and my table. You`re free to choose your table/seat in the cafe so I immediately went to Doumeki`s table as soon as I enter the cafe.

Here`s Doumeki`s Black Sesame Ice cream plate

Here`s the Champagne Jelly and the Wine.

Here are the goods that i bought and received from the cafe. Bought 3 acrylic coaster and received 3 trump cards. I also bought Doumeki and Yashiro`s acrylic stand. There`s also a “stamp event” at the cafe where if you get 3 stamps you`ll receive a free sticker. To get 3 stamps, you need to buy 1000 yen worth of goods (excluding the gachas and the 25,000 yen A4 size signed artwork), you need to order one menu item and buy one of either Saezuru manga or Drama CD. 

Doumeki really blessed me today with his presence because i received a lot of his goods today. But, maybe a bit too much because I received a lot of his badges from the gacha machine. 

More picture from the cafe here: 1 // 2 // 3 // 4 // 

Details about the VIP seat here

[shinydelirium]

Kiro’s Rumors and Secrets: Discarded Light (Season 2 Chapters 6-9) Translation [CN]

***SPOILERS*** THIS POST CONTAINS HEAVY SPOILERS FOR CONTENT NOT YET RELEASED ON EN SERVER!!! READ AT YOUR OWN RISK!!!***

So I lied when I said I was gonna translate and post Kiro’s Season 2 chapter 12, lol. But rest assured, it will be next. Just wanted to include this R&S after translating chapter 8-9 to provide some more insight into Kiro’s character from an outsider’s perspective. Although it’s also a pathetic excuse to delay the chapter 12 translation cuz I know it’s gonna hurt just as much as the first time I read it T_T

Anyways, enjoy~

This “superstar” is always beyond everyone’s expectations.

[Chapter 1]

The giant, reinforced concrete extends high into the sky, and the spotlessly wiped glass reflects the neon and dilapidated crescent moon in the distance.

Ah Liu perched on the top of the building, aiming at the silent building opposite him.

Soon, the 8 o’clock bell and a sound in his earphones rang at the same time.

“It’s time to start.”

Ah Liu tightened the rope harness, confirmed the safety of the landing point, and jumped down into the bottomless abyss between the two buildings.

Ah Liu is a bartender, a kind of superficial meaning.

Although he is indeed employed by the owner of Mondlicht bar, his work is not just about bartending and wiping glasses.

“A guest will come in the afternoon, and you will be in charge of collecting it.”

In the bar, the man behind the counter hummed a small tune and placed the wine glasses on the shelf as usual, attached to the task at hand without raising his head.

Ah Liu nodded and when he got up, he heard the man add another sentence.

“This time it’s a long-term big deal. The employer’s status is a bit special, so be more cautious.”

Ah Liu has done many assignments, but the boss reminded him as if this is first time.

This means that the employer is really not good at talking.

The owner threw a report from the counter. Ah Liu took it and looked up in surprise after a few glances.

“What is this person?”

The owner knew what he was thinking, and smiled amusingly.

“When you see him, you will know how kind and compassionate my reminder is.”

Ah Liu put the file on the table suspiciously. The knife in his hand gave off a silver light, feeling a bit funny.

The man on the file has brilliant blonde hair and his blue eyes seem to reflect a clear lake along with a pure smile.

Even Ah Liu, who doesn’t know the entertainment industry at all, knows the person in the photo.

Kiro, the most sought-after superstar of the Inverted Smile Film and Television Company.

His smile appeared on the electronic screens in the streets and alleys as well as on the packaging bags of the new potato chips in the convenience store, making it difficult to miss for anyone who passed by.

Why would such a person who stands at the top, shining and dazzling, pay a big price for a piece of information?

Ah Liu glanced at the file. The paper listed the employer’s request and the price.

The price is irresistible, and the request is worthy of this astronomical price that is suffixed with many zeros.

“The work content of other people has already been arranged, so please prepare.”

Ah Liu made a rough estimate of the time and energy required to take this big arrangement, and then thought about his fortune, and neatly put the file into his pocket.

“It seems that for a long time, we have to work for this Mr. Kiro.”

Soon the appointed time arrives.

When the door of the bar was pushed open, Ah Liu involuntarily glances over.

The person who came in wore a black hat and was dressed up very simply. He walked straight to the bar, threw an envelope to the owner, and then reached out and took off the hat, revealing his golden hair.

“As agreed before.”

He said the words briefly, as if he didn’t want to say more.

If he hadn’t already known his identity, Ah Liu felt that the star’s temperament at the moment was more suitable for this bar than him.

The owner nodded, put away the envelope, and raised his chin towards Ah Liu.

Ah Liu leaned against the bar, turned the knife in his right hand, raised his eyebrows at the guest in front of him and said hello.

In fact, generally speaking, the attitude towards guests should be a little more polite, but Ah Liu was inexplicably teasing. Perhaps because of the other person, or perhaps he was just curious about the true appearance of the superstar hidden under his handsome face.

However, Kiro’s expression was plain and straightforward.

“My request, you should know everything.”

It was completely different from the reaction he expected. Ah Liu pulled back his shoulders and put away his knife.

“Almost. Although it’s a bit tricky, it can be done.”

It was probably the first time Kiro saw someone who dared to speak so directly. He raised his eyes and reminded him not to be serious.

“Think carefully, don’t accept the task so quickly.”

“We are in this business, and we have to do it to the end after receiving the customer’s order. Although this task is not my responsibility alone, but since it’s within the scope of my work, I will definitely do it for you.”

Ah Liu was frank and extended his hand towards Kiro.

“I will follow you in the future.”

Probably out of respect, Kiro held the hand that was stretched out, but that’s all. He didn’t seem to want any contact other than trading with the person in front of him.

“How it’s done, I will tell you later.”

After he said this, he didn’t stay any longer, so he turned and left the bar.

“Why did you find this star? He’s a bit different from what I thought.”

Ah Liu turned around, tapped his index finger on the table, making a clicking sound.

The owner slowly handed him a glass of wine and smiled meaningfully.

“He’s really not any ordinary star.”

“As for what kind of person, you will know soon enough.”

[Chapter 2]

Ah Liu is a practitioner with a sense of professional ethics.

Although he found it very difficult to understand the employer’s, Kiro’s, request, he paid enough for Ah Liu to add ingredients to the menu shamelessly. While eating instant noodles, he made preparations very rigorously.

When Ah Liu completed all the preparations, Kiro also came as scheduled, with a laptop computer.

Ah Liu didn’t think Kiro could help him with his work, but half an hour later, his impression of Kiro was completely overturned.

Kiro asked for some relevant information, then turned on the computer with familiarity, tapping the keyboard quickly with his fingers.

Soon, lines of complex codes flashed across the screen like some kind of fluorescent green tide with special beauty.

Ah Liu stared at Kiro’s movements dumbfounded and couldn’t help but utter a hometown dialect.

“Yo, how are you so good?”

Ah Liu knows that when employers choose a place like theirs, it means that they need to deliver a little more or less of their own secrets and trust.

But….it’s already hard being a star right now, do you have to have to work part-time on the side too?

The security system on the screen was easily hacked, and the red warning turned into a green traffic sign. Kiro stopped typing until he locked a certain area on the outskirts of Loveland City.

“Found it.”

He stretched his waist and habitually reached near the computer as if looking for something to drink.

When he didn’t feel anything he gave a soft “huh”. His extended hand stiffened for a second, and then quickly retracted it, speaking nonchalantly.

“I have locked a few addresses that appear to have logged in to the server, but the specific locations need to confirmed.”

“How is it on your end?”

Although shocked by Kiro’s hacking skills, Ah Liu did not forget his work, and pointed to the surveillance screen in front of him.

“The monitoring software is installed, but there is no movement yet.”

“I suggest waiting for another two or three days to take a look.”

Kiro nodded, put away the computer, put on his hat and mask, and left quietly.

Ah Liu stood up, moved his shoulders and inadvertently walked towards the window.

Next to a vending machine on the corner downstairs, Kiro, wearing a black hood, was bending over to drop coins and soon a bottle of green soda rolled out.

He was a little far away, but Ah Liu still saw the drink clearly.

The green apple flavor is very high in sugar, and young girls are unwilling to buy it, so they are always not able to be sold.

Kiro finished drinking in one breath. His eyes raised slightly, showing a satisfied look. He threw the plastic bottle into the trash can briskly, then turned and left.

Ah Liu once again became curious about Kiro.

[Chapter 3]

He didn’t meet Kiro again until a long time later.

During this period, Kiro did not take the initiative to contact Ah Liu, and he has been diligently monitoring the marked area while waiting for Kiro’s news.

The days of waiting were a bit boring. It wasn’t until one time, on the convenience store TV news that Ah Liu learned that Kiro was involved in a “wounding incident” and revealed his identity as an Evolver.

Ah Liu slurped the instant noodles. On TV, Kiro looked directly at the camera and generously admitted his hidden identity.

He swallowed the instant noodles, wondering what he was doing.

Although he didn’t have much contact with Kiro, he knew very well—this person would not be so reckless and willful, and that he might have his own reasons behind this incident.

After that, a while later, Kiro’s company also underwent some trouble, and he himself claimed to retreat for creation purposes.

In the silence, Ah Liu disassembled and reassembled the pistol bought from the black market in the dark. The screen beside the pistol showed clues that he finally tracked down.

Hunter game.

It’s time to contact his employer, he thought.

In the dark, the cheerful and broad bells rang—

The so-called hunter game, even though Ah Liu never heard of it before, Kiro specifically called him to investigate since it was also related to what they had checked before. Naturally, Ah Liu concentrated all his time and energy into it.

When following Kiro’s clues, he slowly became more aware that there was a behemoth showing his minions in the darkness.

But it paid off, and finally someone bit the hook that had been cast before.

Ah Liu stuffed a pistol into his waist, holding his cell phone, and dialed Kiro.

The phone picked up after a few rings.

“What’s up?”

“I found a building where the other party had been active. I’m going to explore it tonight. If I’m lucky, I might find something.”

Kiro on the other end paused for a moment, inhaled and quickly stopped talking.

It seemed that Kiro was not the only person on the phone. Ah Liu vaguely heard another person speaking to Kiro and his voice rose naturally.

“Savin, I’m really not stealing snacks. If you don’t believe me, then come and see for yourself.”

“Hey—wait, come back later. Now I’m bitter. As soon as you interrupted, the melody of my new song is gone.

“I never told anyone that you hid my three boxes of snacks and two refrigerators of carbonated drinks. So inhumane….”

The voice gradually became quieter, and it was probably the person named “Savin” who finally left Kiro alone.

Ah Liu felt that Kiro was really weird.

Obviously, he has the warmth of light that ordinary people can’t touch, but he had to turn around and go to the darkness.

He wanted to ask why, but held back.

Employers have their own secrets to some extent. Keeping to their duties and not asking too much is the best way to stay out of this circle.

After a while, Kiro’s calm voice came from the phone again.

“Send me the address and I’ll find you.”

“I’m fine by myself. You don’t trust me when I say this?”

Ah Liu felt that Kiro didn’t trust his capability. He repeatedly emphasized that his business potential was very good. His performance ranking has been ranked first.

But Kiro still insisted on working with him and Ah Liu couldn’t help but send Kiro the location of the building.

[Chapter 4]

Under the endless night sky, Ah Liu received Kiro’s signal.

He stood up and flung himself into the opposite building with the help of the rope. After he rolled into the room and came to a stop, Ah Liu suddenly held his breath.

There were no clues left as expected. The whole room was empty. The huge glass windows were opened and the cold moonlight showed the man’s brilliant blond hair and the timed explosive device in front of him.

“Was it successful?”

“It seems that someone expected this visit and left us a gift.”

Kiro’s expression was very calm but when Ah Liu saw the detonator under his feet, he couldn’t help sucking in a cold breath.

Kiro seemed to be indifferent, tapping quickly with both hands on the computer and laughed coolly.

“Although the internal structure is complicated, it is still flawed…”

“How long will it take?”

‘Five minutes.”

Ah Liu glanced at the time displayed on the screen and the countdown just reached five minutes.

“The risk is too great.”

Ah Liu crouched down, took out a wire from the portable tool bag beside him and gently inserted it into the bomb.

“Leave it to me, it will be done in a minute.”

He specializes in surgery. Ah Liu is best at disassembling and reassembling various complicated equipment. He moves cautiously.

Kiro didn’t say anything, he stopped hacking and switched to another interface.

There is nothing in this world that can come and go without a trace. No one can be completely invisible.

The ability of top hackers is to dig out some seemingly and completely irrelevant content from the vast data stream, and continue to piece together and combine them until they restore the trajectory of something generated, assembled, grown, and disbanded.

Every day, the flood of information carries everyone’s joy, anger, and sorrow, surging through the city and no one can stay out of the matter.

The people who had been in this room carefully avoided all information channels, but it was precisely this carelessness that allowed Kiro to find their exact address.

The computer snapped shut and Kiro briefly breathed out. At this time, Ah Liu also successfully analyzed the data of the detonator and shut it down perfectly.

“It’s done.”

Ah Liu stood up and looked at Kiro.

“What are you going to do with this thing? Take it away or keep it here?

“Since they gave such a ‘big gift’, how about a ‘return gift’?”

Kiro turned and walked towards the door hidden in the dark. Ah Liu picked up the device that had turned into a pile of scraps on the ground, and walked to catch up with Kiro.

After coming out of the building, Ah Liu stopped when he passed a small alley.

“Hold up.”

He shouted to Kiro and dropped a few coins into a battered vending machine.

With two crisp ‘plops’, accompanied by mechanical electronic sounds, two cyan bottles of carbonated drinks were held by Ah Liu.

He handed Kiro a bottle but didn’t move to take it. His voice was a little cold.

“I don’t like being spied on by others.”

Ah Liu laughed a few times, trying to pat Kiro’s shoulder, but was subtly averted. He didn’t feel embarrassed, so he touched his head instead.

“Shouldn’t a celebrity be used to being watched by others?”

Probably when he was immersed in darkness, no one would exactly associate him with the dazzling star on stage.

Kiro froze for a moment, then took the carbonated drink from Ah Liu’s hand.

“By the way, when the device was dismantled, how could you be sure that I could do it? Weren’t you afraid we would all be blown up?”

The person in front of him showed a slight smile. Although it was shallow, it was indeed Kiro’s smile.

At this moment, he seemed to be covered with light and shadow, and the sun and moon were equally magnificent.

“It was just a gamble.”

“It turned out that I was right.”

He finished his drink in one breath and walked around the corner with his hands in his pockets.

Ah Liu suddenly felt that Kiro was very interesting. If he worked with him, he would probably gain a lot of things that he hadn’t encountered before.

Thrilling enough, but also exciting.

For men, true friends should be like this.

In the bottom of his heart, he listed Kiro as a friend who had already had a “friend for life and death”, so he shouted to him.

“I’ll study the internal structure of the device when I go back. I’ll tell you the results but it will take several days.”

The person in the distance did not answer and disappeared into the depths of the night.

[Chapter 5]

It took a lot of effort to crack the device, and several days had passed by the time Ah Liu got all the analytical data.

Kiro sent the other party’s real server address. Following this clue and the special materials of the installation, Ah Liu has been busy for a long time. He also managed to get a sense of the so-called “Hunter Game” in his mind.

At this moment, perhaps somewhere in this world, a silent survival game is being staged.

Although he is used to fighting and killing, the nature of the incident is completely different. He feels it is necessary to tell Kiro immediately.

But the phone call couldn’t get through.

After waiting for a while at Mondlicht, Ah Liu got up and decided to go directly to Kiro.

One minute late, one more minute for risk of exposure.

However, Kiro had a deal with him, and the less people knew, the better. Instead of alerting the security guard, Ah Liu walked to the gate of the backyard with his waist bent.

The security system of the gate is complicated and difficult to understand.

When Ah Liu was scratching his head to study how to crack it, he suddenly heard Kiro’s voice.

He was sitting cross-legged in the yard with a mobile phone, a golden retriever in front of him.

Not knowing what the person on the other end said, Kiro spoke briskly, with a smile that could not be contained:

“Wait for me to show you the mushrooms I’ve grown these days! This one on top of my head is new!”

“I wrote a song at home these last few days and I will send it to you when I make the demo.”

“When the ban is lifted in a few days, I must have a big meal!”

“Do you have anything you want to eat?”

……

He naturally exudes the aura of a “little sun”. The grand light not only comes from Kiro, but it also seems to come from the person on the other end of the phone.

It turned out to be so, Ah Liu suddenly realized.

He has always wondered why Kiro had so many contradictory points, but the bright star walks in the dark, intersecting with people of his identity.

Now he found the answer.

Because even the stars that live above the clouds have a future that they want to gaze at and protect forever.

Suddenly, there was a shattering sound—

Ah Liu looked forward immediately. He didn’t know what was said on the phone. Kiro stood up instantly, holding the phone tightly, his eyes were full of fear and anger.

Next to him was a glass that has been broken into pieces.

This was the first time Ah Liu saw this look on Kiro’s face.

He seemed to have noticed something and without hesitation, he pushed aside the branches of the tree and walked straight out.

Since seeing Kiro’s first side, Ah Liu has not been accurate in all of Kiro’s predictions. But this time, he confidently wants to try again and he has a hunch that he will not be wrong.

And that is—

Kiro is a person worthy of his trust.

[tttinytrash]

A prompt from the legendary Shy! I decided to go with this one first because the most ideas to fill in the framework they so kindly provided sprung to mind immediately, but expect the other two they sent along at some point soon. I took the liberty of picking Classic and Underfell Sans for the cast, but the nicknames will probably have made that clear anyhow. I tried to change it up and made the prey brave rather than the nervous wreck I often default to, so hopefully that pans out. Enjoy!

Nerds really do have more fun.

You’re not entirely sure how your socially inept self had made friends as good as these two, but your life had definitely improved exponentially after their addition to it. Red and Classic were both skeletons, but that was immaterial to your friendship with the two.

For the moment you three were tinkering away in the lab the university provided for your research. You were attempting to make a version of the monsters’ inventories that was more accessible for humans, or a TARDIS pocket as Classic had taken to calling the project. You couldn’t argue the accuracy of the comparison, though the name would sadly have to change for copyright purposes at some point. The idea was to make a pocket that was larger on the inside, thereby vastly increasing storage capabilities for the denizens of the world without magical capabilities.

Classic was at the far workbench, going over the calculations yet again while you and Red were closer to the machine actually intended to form the dimensional pockets. The burned scraps of a grocery tote bag, the cremated remains of your latest failed attempt, hung in place in the machine for now despite the machine not being active. Red was shoulders deep in the thing, checking that the soldering on the wires were holding after another failed test. You were busy removing the latest scorches from the machine’s plating when you heard the dull hum start. 

You glanced over at saw the machine had started trying to form another rift, without any kind of vessel and without any of you having activated it. Worse, two thirds of the team was not even remotely beyond the safety perimeter! You didn’t even think, you just grabbed Red by the pelvis and dragged him out of the machine. You didn’t even process what he was saying, nor his angry tone as you bundled him up bridal style and bolted from the danger zone. 

You were almost in the clear when you heard the explosion behind you and felt the searing heat on your back. Well, as least you’d gotten your more sturdy human body between your 1HP monster companion and the blast, you had time to think. 

The pain ebbed as quickly as it came and you felt like you were in freefall...

-----

Red really didn’t know what the hell had just happened. 

He’d felt the human yank him out of the maintenance hatch, and the glow and crackling of building energy he could get from over their shoulder as they ran clued him in roughly and mollified his annoyance in favor of concern. Then there was heat and he felt his body fall to the floor like a puppet with its strings cut. Classic had been far enough away from the blast to be unharmed, and therefore was free to rush over to where Red lay. 

He groaned as the unharmed skeleton arrived, not missing the other’s visual sweep of his body for injury or dust. 

“are you ok? where’s y/n?” Classic asked.

Red’s skull whipped back, not finding the human on the floor with him as he’d expected. “i-i dunno! y/n?!”

“Here...” came the weak reply. 

Both skeletons homed in on the source quickly, which was oddly Red’s chest.

A tiny human lay on Red’s sternum sprawled as if having fallen. Y/n was severely reduced in size and dazed, but awake an aware much to both skeletons’ visible relief. Red scooped the sluggish human into his hands and did a Check on them. Their HP had definitely taken a hit, but they weren’t in the red. (Heh, nickname pun.)

The trio was collectively baffled, but the relief that everyone was ok for the most part was palpable. They now had the fun task of figuring out how to reverse this change. Oh. And the machine was smoldering, so that probably should be addressed too. This to do list was quickly looking very not fun.

-----

It was agreed upon (more like accepted, really) that a shrunken human really couldn’t live on their own in a house without any adaptations for such a small person. In the long term (Delta forbid this persisted long enough to need a long term solution) adjustments to your house could be arranged. In the short term, the skeleton pair would take turns hosting their human friend at their houses. 

Classic took the first night, as he and Vanilla (his brother) had a place closer than Red and his bro, Edge. At the moment, Vanilla was out of the house at a sleepover (arranged before the incident) with Undyne. This left Classic and the human alone, and eventually watching TV together. 

You had been set up with a fluffy hand towel for a blanket and set atop a pillow. Your pillow was on the couch cushion besides Classic, who sprawled with the grace of a sack of potatoes on his corner of the couch as he watched the cheesy sci-fi flick on screen. You were both making jokes throughout the movie, but as the night drew on and the ambient temperature dropped, you found your towel wasn’t quite warm enough. 

You were waiting for a break in dialogue to ask for another towel, but Classic beat you to it. He looked over as if he were about to crack a joke at the expense of the movie again, noticed your huddled posture, and paused the movie. “you cold, kiddo?”

“Yeah, a bit. Are there any more towels I could pile on, maybe?”

“i’ll do ya one better, c’mere.” He offered a flat palm, waiting patiently for you to board.

You didn’t really have to hesitate, trusting the guy already and curiosity spurred you on as well. He gently lifted you and your towel, dumped the pillow on the floor absently, and moved to sprawl flat over the whole couch instead. This left his chest as a flat plane, on which you were gently deposited.

You sat there, surprised at the new level of contact. Sure, you three nerds had crammed yourselves onto the loveseat at your place to watch TV or game together and ended up with hips mildly wedged against each other and shoulders bumping, but that was the closest you’d ever been. To now be seated on Classic’s sternum was new territory. 

“go ahead, get comfy and lay down. i don’t mind.” he encouraged. 

You took his advice, curling on your side facing the TV, towel still tented around you. Classic increased the warmth his body offered even more by taking the liberty to partially zip his ever-present blue jacket up to the point that your body was zipped in, but your head was outside the confines of the giant garment.

“better?” he asked.

“Yeah, much warmer.” You could easily affirm. 

While this was new territory, his casual attitude towards the whole thing dissipated the awkwardness you were feeling. Without that feeling, you really found you couldn’t complain. You liked cuddling anyhow, so finding a friend was also up for that was a boon in your book. 

The movie resumed without further incident, though you may or may not have totally fallen asleep on your friend. Eh, he didn’t seem to mind.

-----

It’d been a couple of weeks since the incident at the lab, and today was Red’s day for hosting y/n. Red was playing a campaign in a very story based game, with the human watching from their perch on his shoulder while Classic lounged on the other side of the couch. Playthroughs of games like this were common with their group, and the three would usually switch off who had the controller each session with the other two chipping in and offering advice. 

The biggest difference now was that y/n couldn’t take their turn with the controller, but they seemed content to snuggle into the fluff of Red’s hood, relishing in the warmth of their position by his cervical vertebrae. Ever since becoming small, they hadn’t been able to maintain their heat as well once the sun went down.

“I think I saw something on your left.” they offered. 

Red panned the camera that way to find an enemy, which was swiftly dealt with.

“thanks, pipsqueak.” Red said as he collected the dropped loot.

“No problem. Hey, do you think you could get the bathroom door for me?”

“oh, sure.” he paused the game and crossed over to the bathroom. He gently cupped the human into his hands and gingerly set them on the floor just before the threshold. Inside there was a bathroom setup of bitty furniture, an investment that had been made early on for each of the skeletons’ houses. Once they went inside, he closed the door without catching the latch so they could push it open once they were done. 

In the meantime, he approached the couch again where he saw Classic grinning at him.

“the hell you looking at?” Red groused.

Classic chuckled “a softy.”

Red felt the light blush on his face, much to his chagrin “shut the hell up. s’not like you aint doing the same damn thing.”

“well yeah, but i don’t try to claim i’m not a softy.”

Red groaned as he flopped petulantly onto the couch. “can’t help it, they’re just so small. plus, this is all my fault anyhow.”

“woah, what?” Classic sat up straighter, humor gone from his voice. “what do you mean, your fault?”

“i was fucking with the wiring when the machine started up. it had to be something i did that caused it to go haywire and blast them. least i can do is help em out when they need it.”

Classic was about to address the mountain of guilt Red had built upon himself, but was cut off by a growl from Red’s stomach.

“you hungry?” Classic asked, though Red knew he already had the answer to that question based on the tone. 

Red buried his face in his hands, responding “no, and the human aint gonna believe the ‘i just need a snack’ lie forever. i just wanna protect them so damn bad.”

“yeah, they’re too smart for us. plus, i’ve been using the same lie.”

Red unburied his face, asking “instinct is cropping up for you too, eh?”

“yeah. especially since they get so cold at night. it went downhill fast as soon as i realized we had an easy fix.”

“tell me about it. they were so uncomfortable when they first changed, i didn’t wanna add to the discomfort by asking them about it.”

“well, the machine is back in one piece now so we can start working to reverse this mess come monday when the university lets us back in.”

“yeah, thank delta for that.”

Neither one realized that the human had heard some of their conversation from the bathroom, nor that they refused to accept their friends were apparently hiding something from them. 

The human became determined to confront this issue that very night.

-----

Classic had gone home by now and you were settled in your bed, more of a nest of towels and an electric heated blanket than a real bed. Nest was probably a better term. 

Red hadn’t come into the room yet (you slept in the same room as him so he could help you off the desk and to the bathroom if you needed to make a trip in the middle of the night) so you instead thought about what you’d overheard and what you were going to say. You’d caught only snippets due to distance, knowing something about an instinct they were both trying to hide from you, and you’d also heard “all my fault” and desperately wanted to address that if it was regarding you, which the conversation had seemed to.

Your planning was cut short when he entered, in a loose black muscle tank and flannel PJ bottoms pattered with jolly roger flags flying over a grey background. He flopped onto the bed without ceremony amongst his tangled blankets and immediately started scrolling on his phone. 

You steeled yourself a moment before calling for his attention, leaving your nest behind on the beside table to approach the skeleton closer. “Hey, Red?”

He put down his phone, looking at you with a questioning grunt.

“I wasn’t trying to eavesdrop, but I heard you and Classic earlier...”

Red looked mildly alarmed “what exactly did you hear?”

“Enough to know you guys are hiding things from me, and it sounded like it was about me. And something about this being ‘all your fault’?”

Red sat up leaving his face a little higher than you, and only a foot of distance from your perch to his shoulder. “yeah, well it is my fault. since i was the one tinkering, the machine had to have been fucked up by me. and now...” he gestured limply at you. “i’m gonna do my damndest to fix it, but i hate that i did this at all.”

“Cut the crap.”

Red looked as if he’d been slapped. He instantly went from hunched and quiet, reluctant to open up to you at all (probably only caving so early knowing you would keep badgering), to sitting straight up, eyes locked on you in obvious shock.

“This was an accident. No one is at fault.” you stated emphatically.

He looked ready to protest, eyebrows tilting down almost as if angry.

You cut him off again. “You never intended for this to happen. I don’t hold you responsible, or anyone else for that matter. But that doesn’t even matter. You just said you were going to fix it. That matters way more than fretting over the past we can’t change. No more self pity. Not allowed. Got it, mister?” You wagged a finger at him, refusing to be the one to break eye contact.

Red’s expression had mollified during your response, and he was the one who lost the game of eye contact chicken when he changed focus onto his folded hands in his lap. “forgot how much spunk you have, looks like the size change didn’t touch that.” he laughed a little.

“You mean you forgot what made us become friends in the first place? I’m hurt, Red.” You feigned pain, placing your hands over your heart.

His laugh was stronger this time “sorry, pipsqueak. won’t make that mistake again.” He ruffled your hair with a two fingers, which got you laughing too as you batted his invading phalanges away.

“you win. i’ll try to focus on fixing, not shitting on myself. fair deal?”

“Sounds good to me, bud.”

You two lapsed into silence.

You felt accomplished, but only half of your mystery had been solved. you decided to risk it and push farther. You’d back off if he resisted though, as you knew opening up at all was asking a lot of your somewhat emotionally constipated friend. “So... what was the instinct you two kept referring to?”

“damn, you’re relentless tonight!” he laughed again, flopping back onto his pillow.

“Well it’s got my two best friends in a twist over it, I wanna know what the hell is going on!” you defend, happy to keep up the more teasing tone.

“fine, fine. but you asked for it.”

“Yeah, yeah, lay it on me!”

He barked a laugh, “alright, pipsqueak. there’s a protective instinct that can rear up among monsters who’re less flesh based. it’s been triggered by your small size and our desire to help, but basically we wanna take you in.”

“Ya lost me right at the end, there.”

“figured i would. skeletons, and some other races of monsters, have the ability to take other creatures inside their own body harmlessly. more specifically, it’d be me and classic fighting the urge to eat you, but safely.”

“Safely.... eat?” The humor left your tone completely.

The humor was gone in his too, saying “yeah, that’s why we didn’t say anything. that reaction right there. but yes, basically eat minus the chewing bit. it’s safe and you’d be let out later, but the idea is to put us between you and danger. pretty damn literally. but a fleshbag like you wouldn’t be a fan and we both knew that going in. now ya know.” he looked away again, not so much looking at anything but apparently not wanting to look at you.

You thought back to all the times you’d caught either of them trying to sneak stomach growls past you or how oddly often they’d been claiming they’d needed a snack, or even that one time Red had tried (and failed) to play off getting caught wiping drool away. It all clicked into place and made so much more sense. But far more importantly, you didn’t like the resigned tone in his voice. 

You took a moment to process the new information in stifling silence, then asked “So... you thought I wouldn’t trust you?”

“what?” Red’s skull whipped around to fix you with a baffled look. “that’s not even close to what i said. i just meant it’d be pretty fuckin’ weird to you.”

“Yeah, well I went and made friends with two monsters after having shit luck with humans. I’d say I’m pretty open to new and weird.”

Red just blinked at you.

“If you want to, I’m unopposed. Go for it. You said it was triggered by a desire to help, and that it was safe. I trust you.”

Red’s brows were knit, sockets squinted a bit at you as he sat up. He stared you down like that, feeling like he was looking for the “gotcha” or any fear. You stared right back with nothing to hide, you weren’t afraid and didn’t want to take back what you’d said.

“yer sure?” he asked, sounding suspicious. 

“Yep.” You popped the P for emphasis.

“alright. i’ll let you out when you change your mind.” he shrugged, holding a hand out for you to board. 

You took that comment as a challenge and sat on his metacarpals confidently.

He brought you up toward his face while his free hand reached up from behind you, wrapping around your ribs under the arms. Using the new grip, he lifted you over his upturned face with your bare feet dangling in thin air over his opening mouth.

Ok, maybe your confidence had left a little. Your legs tucked up a bit in instinct, but you didn’t struggle when he guided your lower limbs into his mouth. You fought the urge to cringe away at the odd slick feeling of your feet sliding along his thick red tongue, or even more so at the feeling of his throat around your lower legs. 

You still trusted Red, that wasn’t the issue, so you decided to fight your instincts just as your friends had been fighting theirs and refused to show any fear. 

You pulled your arms in close to your chest when his grasping fingers left, and looked upwards as the world was sealed off by a wall of sharp teeth. Thankfully Red didn’t leave you waiting long, as a wet gulping sound drew your upper legs down with a surprisingly strong force. You clenched your teeth at that, barely keeping in the yelp of surprise. Another two gulps followed in quick succession, drawing your whole body into his waiting throat. The tissue around you pressed in, pushing you ever downward. 

For a brief moment during your decent, you felt a warm tingling sensation akin to the light buzz you felt the few times you’d come into contact with a magical construct (Red had lobbed a bone attack at you when you’d be particularly snarky a time or two, usually blue so you didn’t get hurt.) This tingle was much stronger, and you couldn’t describe it any better than saying it felt like Red. ...was that his soul? 

Your musing was cut off shortly after the buzz of magic left and you found yourself kicking a little in surprise when your legs had room to move. The rest of you spilled into the open space a moment later. 

You felt a bit dazed as you just sat there a moment. You were somewhat pulled back down to earth as you felt a pressure coming from outside. It was immediately obvious the pressure was his hand pressing in at you, and the hand started moving, rubbing you from outside in soothing circles, slowly moving up and down your back. Even if you were out of it, you had the wherewithal to realize that was incredibly cute. 

“alright, buyer’s remorse set in?” he asked.

“No...” you breathed, not quite done processing your current situation.

“you ok in there?” his tone was more concerned, the rubbing stopped but the pressure of his hand remained.

“Y-yeah!” You shook your head as if that would help clear the fog, clicking back into reality. “I’m ok. Wow, this is just... a lot.”

“sure you don’t want out?”

“Do you want me out?”

“...didn’t say that...” he mumbled.

You laughed, which earned you a half hearted growl.

“Hey, is it ok if I move around a little? I really want to, uh, check the place out now that I’m here if that’s cool.”

“oh, sure. i don’t care.”

He removed his hand, which left you free to experiment. Call it childish if you wanted, but you really wanted to feel out your new surroundings in an exceedingly literal sense.

-----

Holy shit this went so much better than he’d ever thought it’d go. The human was inside, no panic, and their soul had settled from the anxiety he’d been feeling during their decent. Guess they’d gone and proven him and Classic wrong. Again. Maybe he should expect that by now.

For now he laid back, feeling them slide back to the new lowest point as he got comfortable. He also very much heard their tiny squeak when they startled at the movement, which brought out a smile on him. He felt them quickly readjust, then felt a small point of pressure pushing outwards. A tiny moving bump raised in his shirt, showing where their small hands were pushing out. He didn’t protest, finding this all quite amusing.

On a whim, he used two fingers to push at that little raised bump. He heard them laugh, and then the bump showed up on a new spot, disappeared, and showed up again in yet another. This was a bizarre version of whack a mole, but he did play along until they ended the game with a breathy giggle. 

They were moving again, probably trying to stand given the two distinct points of pressure. They slowly wobbled a few steps before he distinctly felt the impact of them falling over. 

He laughed aloud at the “I’m good!” they called out.

Their movements inside were calm, but distinctly curious. It was all highly endearing on top of feeling good. The quieting of the protective instinct at last was also a welcome absence, leaving him feeling comfortable and secure. He didn’t really try all that hard to stifle his subsequent yawn. 

The responding, smaller yawn from inside was a bit of a surprise.

“tired?”

“We were getting ready for bed, dingus.”

“fair point. we turning this into a sleepover or you going back to your own bed?”

There was a pause, then “Fuck it, sleepover.”

“fine by me, pipsqueak. g’night.”

“Goodnight, bonehead.”

He felt their weight settle, then relax as they slipped into sleep. He decided to follow them, hands folded over his stomach to protect the precious cargo inside.

[nichromepackagingmachine]

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[ghstandpucks]

Cutting Edge ~ Nathan MacKinnon Ch. 6

aHey everyone! I hope you are all doing well and staying safe and healthy! I had fun writing this chapter, though it is kind of a filler to get the story where I want to go. I hope you all enjoy it! 

Also shout out to @avsfans95​, @pumpkinpatchmakar​, and @silkybiscuit​ for your kind words and tags when you reblog. I love reading them and I’m so glad you guys are enjoying the story! 

Let me know what you think and if you would like to be added to the tag list! Thanks!

Prologue Ch.1 Ch.2 Ch.3 Ch.4 Ch.5 

The Avs won the game against the Coyotes 3 to 1, with Nate scoring the final goal for the Avs. You had been standing on the bench between Tyson and J. T. when he scored and almost bounced right off of it in your excitement. Thankfully Tyson was mindful enough to grab your arm and then help you down before you twisted an ankle. When Nate got back to the bench, he gave you a huge smile that made butterflies erupt in your stomach once again. You wanted to run over to him but knew that would not look professional, so you settled on tapping his shoulder pads like you did earlier after Andre had scored. When the game ended, you waited outside the locker room while the team showered and changed. Coach Bednar stepped out of the room to find where you had gone off to, as he thought you would like to accompany him and a few of the players to their post-game interviews. “You did great today Y/N. Nice call with Burkakovsky’s goal,” he complimented you.

“Thanks Coach. I’m glad I was able to help,” you smiled. Bednar smiled and nodded, then looked at you thoughtfully for a minute.

           “Just do me a favor and be careful when you stand on the bench. I already have to worry about my players getting hurt, I don’t need to worry about you too,” he chuckled. You laughed and nodded back.

           “Of course. I’m sorry if I shouldn’t have done that…” you tried to apologize, but were cut off.

           “I didn’t say that. I’m just asking you to be careful is all.” Bednar clarified. “If that’s what you need to do to get your voice out there then go ahead. Gabe has already told the guys to look out for you. You have definitely won them over Coach Y/L/N.” You smiled, and then followed Bednar as he motioned for you to come along to the interviews. When you got there, you stood in the back with him watching Gabe, Andre, and Nate take their seats. They were the three that scored today, so you assumed that’s why they were being interviewed. The questions came at them, from how they thought their team was going to perform this year, how off-season training went, and what they were looking forward to this season. They all answered in a way that left you in awe of the three large men, Gabe obviously charming everyone in sight, both women and men. Then a question came up that you did not expect.

           “How is it having a figure skater as a coach?” a male reporter asked with a snicker. You could feel your face flush, slightly unnerved by his tone. You knew there were people opposed to the presence of figure skaters on the team as soon as the idea went public, but you weren’t thinking of the questions that would be asked to the players about it. You also did not miss the way Nate’s eyes shot straight back to you, his jaw becoming slightly tense at the question. Gabe was the first to answer.

           “Coach Y/L/N has been a great addition to our team. She is highly skilled and has an eye for details that I think as hockey players we don’t always notice. She is also the reason we first got on the scoreboard today, so we are very thankful to have her.” Gabe stated with no room for interpretation. You smiled thankfully at him and he nodded slightly. Nate relaxed a bit, not realizing how protective he felt over you until that question came up. He could hear Gabe’s words from the game in the back of his mind, and he knew he was screwed.

~ ~ ~

           Once back at the hotel, mostly everyone retired to their rooms as the team had an early flight to San Jose for a game the following day. You had showered and changed into a pair of leggings and your Team USA sweatshirt when you heard low voices and a knock on your door. Curious as to who it could be, you looked out the peep hole before swinging the door open laughing at the sight in front of you. Tyson and Cale were standing there with what looked like every potato chip bag they could get out of the vending machine and happy smiles. You looked at them suspiciously. “Can I help you guys?”

           “We’re trying to figure out what chips are the best and since there is only two of us we need another judge. And since you are a coach, we figured you might be impartial,” Tyson explained.

           “What if I pick a different flavor than either of you?” You asked, leaning on your doorframe.

           “Then we all argue but we get to eat the chips in the process,” Cale countered.

           “So?” Tyson asked, nodding toward your room. You huffed but giggled, opening your door for the both of them to walk through. Tyson dropped all the chips onto the bed, sitting on the edge while Cale pulled over the desk chair. You leaned against the head board, your knees to your chest and looked at everything they brought. “You know what would be fun, if we Instagram lived this,” Tyson said taking out his phone. You looked at Cale and laugh as he just stared at Tyson.

           “I just want to eat the chips,” Cale mumbled.

           “You are so weird,” you laughed.

           “Coach, be quiet so I can make introductions,” Tyson said back, and you threw a bag of chips at the back of his head as he started talking. “I’m with Cale and our coach, Y/N Y/L/N who is a rude person and just threw a bag of chips at me…Yes she is the Olympic figure skater. She’s not as nice as she seems people, she made Nate skate laps the other day,” he panned his phone toward you and you just shrugged. He kept asking you and Cale questions from the chat as you all passed the bags of chips around, voting on ones you liked better over the others. You were almost in hysterics at Cale throwing a few chips at Tyson over a disagreement on the better flavor when your phone chimed next to you. You opened it to see that Nate had text you.

Nate: Was I not invited? You laughed and went to text him back when another message came in from him. Don’t laugh at me! You looked up and saw that you were in the corner of Tyson’s live feed.

Y/N: Do you feel left out? You teased him.

           “Who are you texting Coach? You look all happy,” Tyson called you out.

           “It’s none of your business Tyson,” you said, then felt a new bag of chips hit you straight in the face. “You are such a pain in the ass!” you laughed as Tyson faked shock. Cale doubled over as Tyson turned back to his phone.

           “I told you people she’s not as nice as she seems!”

           “He’s not that great either!” you yelled from your spot on the bed, picking your phone back up.

Y/N: Come save me?

Nate: Burky and I are on our way. Want anything? You smiled again, thankful Tyson and Cale were distracted by the chips and answering random questions.

Y/N: I’m good. No more chips though lol

           Around 10 minutes later there was a knock on your door. Cale got up to answer it as he was the closest. You smiled as Nate and Andre walked in. Andre grabbed a bag of chips and sat on the floor while Nate made his way over to you, handing you a Minute Maid pink lemonade. “You remembered,” you said quietly, scooting over so Nate could sit next to you. He gave you a small smile. Of course he remembered you liked pink lemonade, beside water and orange juice it’s the only other thing to drink in your fridge at all times. The guys might give him crap for being unobservant, but he pays more attention to you than anyone knew.

More chips were passed around, no one agreeing on what was better. Eventually Tyson grew tired of Instagram Live and turned it off, but not before a few questions came in as to why you were sitting so close to Nate. You hadn’t thought about it. Sitting cross legged, your right knee was resting on the top of his thigh as his legs were stretched out on the bed. Both of you had grown use to some sort of physical contact when you were around each other that it simply didn’t phase you. Apparently though, some people were too observant for their own good. Knowing Nate was more of a private person though, and not really knowing himself what was going on between the two of you (though he did speculate there had to be something), Tyson fielded the questions by either laughing them off or not acknowledging them.

“You guys, I never want to see a potato chip again,” you whined, leaning into Nate an hour later. It was around midnight at this point and you were ready for bed. Nate chuckled and patted your leg.

“Yeah this wasn’t my smartest idea,” Tyson said, falling back onto the bed.

“Which idea has been?” Andre chirped him. Tyson reached up and grabbed a pillow, nailing Andre with it.

“Hey don’t throw my pillows,” you mumbled, grabbing another pillow and smacking Tyson with it. He went to throw it back at you, but Nate stuck his arm in front of you and got it away from Tyson. Half an hour later the guys all started gathering their trash, mostly because you threatened them with more laps if they left your room dirty. You said goodnight to Tyson, Cale and Andre, walking to the door with Nate following you. As the guys walked out, Nate hung back a second.  

“I’ll come by tomorrow morning. I think we’re getting the continental breakfast before heading to the airport,” he said in a low tone, mostly so the guys couldn’t eavesdrop in the hallway. You nodded, vaguely aware that he was taking too long in the room, but also not caring entirely. Would it really be that bad if the team knew something was going on? Nate leaned forward and kissed your cheek, causing your face to turn bright red. “Sleep well Y/N.”

“Goodnight Nate,” you whispered, closing the door behind him. Nate walked out into the hallway to find Tyson casually waiting a few feet away while Andre and Cale were walking. Tyson motioned to the now shut door.

“You and coach?” he asked. Nate kept a straight face and walked past him.

“It’s none of your business,” Nate said, and Tyson’s jaw dropped.

“She was texting you earlier! I thought there was something there. I mean you did bring her hiking with us…” Tyson rambled walking next to Nate.

“Again, it is none of your business,” Nate said, giving Tyson a look that quieted the younger man.

That next morning you had your bags all packed by the time Nate came knocking on your door. He grabbed your hand and you walked to the elevator. Dropping it again before you got out of the elevator, you had breakfast with the team. After eating, everyone loaded onto the bus and headed to the airport. Landing in San Jose that afternoon, the team checked in and everyone went about their own business, getting ready for the game later that night. A short while later you were standing in the tunnel with everyone about to take the ice when you heard a familiar voice. “Is that my little Y/N?” You turned around with a big smile.

“Brian!” You ran over to the bald older man and gave him a hug.

“What about me?” A female popped out from behind him.

“Kristie!” you gave her a hug also. The figure skating coaches for the Sharks started to tell you about their experiences. Yeah, you were good friends with Olympians Brian Boitano and Kristie Yamaguchi. “Wait so are you both coaching tonight? I thought you were taking turns with the team?” you asked them.

“I’m coaching tonight. Kristie is just here,” Brian said.

“Bret and I came to see the game because I wanted to see you,” Kristie filled you in. She was married to former pro hockey player Bret Hedican. “How is everything going for you though? Congrats on the win last night!” You smiled at them.

“Thank you. It’s been good! I’ve been enjoying working with them.”

“Is there a reason why number 29 keeps looking over here to check on you?” Brian asked in a lower tone with a chuckle. You turned around and caught Nate’s eyes, smiling softly and waving him over.

“No. I think they’re just becoming protective of me,” you said off handed. Kristie gave you a knowing look though. She was married to a hockey player after all. Nate walked up beside you, and you introduced him to the two figure skaters. He shook their hands and smiled as you said how much you admired them growing up. After that it was time to get ready to head out of the tunnel, and you said your goodbyes to your friends. But not before Brian turned to Kristie, telling her he needed to try something.

“You’re going down Y/L/N!” he shouted down the hallway. You turned around quickly.

“Bring it Boitano!” Brian laughed and ran back toward you, giving you a high five and running back off to his team. You laughed and turned back toward your team, a few of the guys staring at you.

“Please never do that again Coach. You need to learn how to chirp better,” Tyson teased you. You rolled your eyes dramatically and followed the guys out of the tunnel. It was fun being able to see Brian coach his team during the game. You also saw his horrified face after you stood on the bench for the first time that game. Nothing was wrong though, EJ had put his arm up behind you so you wouldn’t fall. The game ended, 2-1 Avs. During the last period you told Kadri how to switch up his footwork and he scored. You knew how Brian and Kristie skated, so you were able to modify and work around it. Also, the fact that the team trusted you enough to make the changes you suggested made you extremely happy.

After the interviews ended and you had said one last goodbye to Brian and Kristie, you boarded the bus with everyone and headed to the airport. Since the flight wasn’t too long, the team was scheduled for a red eye to get everyone back home to Denver before their home opener in four days. You had settled into your seat after takeoff, earbuds in listening to some music and staring out the window when you felt someone sit next to you. Looking over your shoulder, you saw Nate siting there with his own earbuds in. “It’s too crowded back there,” he said quietly when you took one of your earbuds out. You nodded, and threw the other half of your blanket over his lap. From years of traveling, you always brought a blanket with you. He smiled and grabbed your hand under the blanket, giving it a reassuring squeeze as he reclined the seat a bit and closed his eyes. You could only imagine how tired the team must be. You casually turned back to the window, relaxing into what was left of your two in a half hour flight.  

Tags: @bqstqnbruin​ @avsfans95​ @andreiaafaria​

[aphrodites-law]

A Bit of Clarity 🍂 (6/?) The visions had started last autumn, a year ago now. It had caused a bit of chaos for some, a bit of clarity for others. Two days ago, Clarke Griffin had been perfectly fine managing both her Café and her stress. But now she was curious - so deeply curious about the vision of herself entwined with the aloof Lexa Woods that it was leading her to complete distraction. (ao3)

[part 1] [part 2] [part 3] [part 4] [part 5]

Pretending things hadn't changed might've been the dumbest thing Clarke had ever agreed to do. When Lexa dropped in the following days, sometimes in the morning and other times in the afternoon, Clarke knew there was no going back to whatever their normal had been.

This was the woman she'd shared a vision with - that didn't go away after one rushed conversation. But Lexa seemed to choose the busiest moments and Clarke couldn't exactly leave Gaia and Harper to manage the orders so she could pick Lexa Woods' brain.

It was the doodles she thought about the most. Lexa had mentioned seeing some framed, but Clarke didn't have anything like that at her place. She had sketches and portraits from college lying around in closets and pressed between the pages of the books on her coffee table, but that was it. The only piece she'd framed had been a charcoal landscape her dad had liked and specifically requested for his birthday. Clarke didn't frame any of her art, let alone doodles. Those were for her own piece of mind; a way to entertain herself when all the coffee machines were cleaned, all their customers were happy, and the phone was quiet.

So what could she have possibly scribbled that would be worth framing? And how far in the future could it be?

Clarke was pondering the very question while she went through stock in the back of the café. It was a small, cramped room with her desk in a corner, but it was tidy and, most importantly, it was quiet. Until people bust in announced, that was.

"Hey!"

Clarke clutched her heart. "Raven, oh my God! Why do you hate knocking so much?"

Raven laughed. "Because then I miss that look on your face."

"Aren't you supposed to be at work?"

"It's 6:30pm and you didn't answer my text about the party."

"It is?" Clarke glanced at her watch. "Fuck." She focused back on Raven and vaguely remembered the email she'd gotten earlier this week. Octavia and Lincoln were having a housewarming party tonight and had invited her. Clarke knew she'd clicked on it but the café had gotten a call at the same time and she'd forgotten about it after. She didn't know Octavia or Lincoln beyond meeting them once, so she was fairly certain they'd invited her on Raven's request.

"I forgot. I'm not going," she decided.

"It was rhetorical, grandma!" Raven exclaimed. "Wells and I are stopping by his parents for a bite and then we're picking you up. It starts at nine."

Clarke shook her head. "I barely know these people."

Raven paused. "You know what? I'm not doing this again. You don't want to go, that's fine."

"Raven."

"No, I'm serious. I'm not responsible for your social life anymore. I quit."

Clarke crossed her arms. "For someone who works in a theater you're a really shitty actress."

Raven narrowed her eyes at her. Clarke held her gaze before huffing and throwing her hands up. "Fine. I'll go."

Raven smirked. "Pick you up at 8:45. Oh and I'm pretty sure Lexa will be there. Bye!"

"What? Raven!"

Clarke was in a grumpy mood that entire evening, pulling clothes out of her closet and putting them back in for a good thirty minutes before she settled on what to wear. She didn't get like this. She knew what worked on her body and what made her look like a potato sack barely stitched together. This wasn't a date or even an intimate get-together. It was going to be an apartment packed with new faces and most likely very little room to walk around, let alone take in what people were wearing beyond blotches of fabric and color. With that in mind, she stuck to a navy blue dress and a sweater, having spotted some angry clouds on her way home. She grabbed her coat when Raven called to tell her they were waiting in their car, and was out the door after taking a deep breath.

There was absolutely no reason to be nervous.

* * *

Octavia and Lincoln's apartment in the Green Strip was on the highest floor of their building, a spacious three bedroom with earthy tones and wooden furniture. There was something immediately welcoming about it when Clarke stepped inside behind Wells and Raven, smiling at Octavia when they were all greeted with a hug.

"You made it," Octavia beamed, soon ushering them into another room where they could put their coats.  

They were directed to the living room, a wide open floor plan with the kitchen on one side. Tall windows opened to a balcony, still empty from what Clarke could see. The room was already buzzing with at least twenty people, some that Clarke recognized from the night at Barton, others not at all. She could see why Octavia and Lincoln would want to show off the place - it was perfect for entertaining.

"See Wells, this is a couple's place, not your den beneath the ground," Raven elbowed him playfully.

"You like my den. You moved into my den," Wells reminded her.

"Only because you're freakishly clean and it always smells like apple pie."

Octavia laughed. "Trust me, you have it good. It took Linc' and I forever to settle on a place together."

"Is it pure coincidence you're this far from the Polis Hotel?" Raven asked jokingly.

Lincoln rubbed the back of his head with a smile. "I appreciate my heritage, but some distance from it never hurts. Besides, this is close to Octavia's work and I can write anywhere."

Octavia gave his arm a gentle squeeze, their eyes locking while Raven fussed with the collar of Wells' shirt. Clarke was used to it by now - feeling like the third or fifth wheel, that was - but it didn't prevent her heart from sinking a little bit. The front door buzzer seemed like her saving grace from the display of domestic bliss. 

"Please, feel free to grab a beer, wine, chips - we've got it all!" Octavia told them before darting away.

Raven grabbed Clarke's arm. "Let's leave the men to find common ground," she said, giving Wells a subtle wink before ushering Clarke toward the drinks set up in the kitchen.

"What was that about?" Clarke asked.

"Wells thinks Lincoln is going to be the next playwright superstar. He's crushing hard."

"He hasn't even seen his play yet."

Raven poured herself a glass of red. "Octavia sent us a copy of the script after I told her about his birthday gift. Wells practically peed himself when he opened the email."

"Cute."

"You know him, he only read the first ten pages to preserve the theatergoing experience."

They shared a knowing look and laughed. "Nerd," they both said affectionately.

Raven glanced over Clarke’s shoulder and then smiled widely. "Speaking of nerds, yours seems to be having a ball."

Clarke turned around in confusion. When two people moved, she caught a glimpse of Lexa in a plaid shirt sitting on a couch alone, head down while she typed something on her phone.

"Definitely not mine," Clarke muttered while grabbing a beer on the table.

"What do you think is her deal?" Raven asked. 

"I don't know. It's none of my business."

Lexa had shown at the Polis Hotel she could be the center of attention if she wanted, so Clarke had given up on guessing. 

Raven arched a brow. "You want it to be, don't you?"

"I'm not going to pine over someone who isn't sure if they want me or not."

Raven took her shoulders and turned her around to face the room. "Good thing there's other eligible people here. And we're talking crew; that's carpenters and painters and electricians - plenty of talented, rough hands to make your dreams come true."

Clarke rolled her eyes. "I should've never told you."

"You started a business from the ground up. I know you have it in you to charm the pants and skirts off of everyone here."

"Raven. I don't want..."

"What? What do you want, Clarke?"

Unsure how to even start answering, Clarke took a sip of her beer and shook her head. "Forget it. Let's just have a good time."

Raven squeezed her shoulder. "Let me make sure my boyfriend hasn't started sweating his ass off."

"You really make him sound so lovely."

Raven laughed. "Yep, and he's all mine!"

* * *

No one started a business without some talent in schmoozing. Raven was right about that. But it was one thing to be driven by passion and another to be driven by... well, Clarke wasn't entirely sure. She knew her dry spell wasn't sustainable, as evidenced by how tense she felt most of the time, but the end of her casual relationship with Niylah hadn't been for no reason either. Casual wasn't what she wanted anymore.

So tonight she'd learned some names and talked about her café, laughed at jokes and listened to stories, a lot of them about the visions, still the go-to topic that could last for hours. But inevitably Clarke knew she'd be asked about hers, which was why she discreetly excused herself from a group before it could come to that.

She was sipping on her second beer when the person whose gaze she'd carefully avoided all night approached her.  

"Hello."

Clarke turned from her spot by the wall, her grip on her beer tightening. "This is a surprise. I thought you were hiding in some other room."

Lexa shrugged. "Stay too long in one spot and someone is bound to notice you. Theater people can be… enthusiastic after one too many drinks."

"Something tells me it's not just theater people you keep at arm's length."

Clarke saw something flash on Lexa's face, almost like hurt. It was true though - Clarke had never seen Lexa with a friend. She'd always come to the shop alone; sat alone; worked alone. She'd never been around with a colleague either on her lunch breaks, which told Clarke she possibly kept her life carefully split. Clearly she hung out with her cousin and his entourage, but didn't she have a Wells or Raven in her own life? 

"Well, I'm here now. I was hoping we could get to know each other," Lexa said.

Clarke looked away with a curt laugh. "You don't have to do that."

"Do what?"

"Feel obliged to talk to me because you go to my coffee shop. We don't need to make weird small talk because we're at the same party."

"That's a bit harsh."

Clarke's head snapped toward her. "Harsh?"

"'Weird small-talk' - is that what we do?" Lexa asked.

"I think you made it pretty clear there is no we."

"Lex!" Octavia called out, prompting her to turn around.

Octavia walked toward her with one of the houseguests, an older man with salt and pepper hair.

"This is Semet. We were just talking about his vision- I think you want to hear him out."

He smiled at her. "Octavia told me you were compiling stories?"

Clarke felt she was the odd one out and slipped away.

"Oh uh, yes, I am," Lexa told him, briefly looking over her shoulder before she extended her hand. "I'm Lexa."

Clarke didn't hear the rest, but as she saw the various groups of people talking, she felt out of place. Even Wells and Raven were deep in conversation with another couple, his hand casually resting on her waist.  

The party was nice, and Lincoln and Octavia couldn't have been more welcoming. They clearly kept good company and, in any other situation, Clarke might've been more comfortable easing her way into another conversation. As it was, she realized just how unsociable she'd been in the past year and habits died hard.

Feeling unsettled, she sneaked out the open front door for a breather. Raven's words after Barton came back to her - the deliberate choices she'd made to stay home instead of going out. She'd kept her distances and now it was no surprise she felt so rusty. Nothing had really changed aside from the café's opening. The change in lifestyle had been a shock, but Wells had worked just as hard as her - if not more, especially on their bakes - and had still managed to find a balance in his life. She'd never really asked him about it, assuming it was simply in his DNA to be absolutely brilliant at everything.

But Clarke wasn't horrible at managing her time either. It wouldn't be that difficult to have a life outside of her business, she could admit that much. She just hadn't put in the work and now it showed. 

Dipping her toe back in the dating pool felt daunting. She'd never tried dating apps and couldn't imagine putting her energy into that. Harper was on three different ones and from the chats she'd overheard with Gaia, it always seemed like an endless struggle of deciding what was appropriate and what wasn't. 

Clutching her beer close, Clarke spotted a stairwell at her right and decided to try her luck. She made her way up and stepped out to the rooftop. There was an area with planter boxes and some chairs, which Clarke figured had to be communal. It was a pretty relaxing setup and she was sure summer saw a lot of tenants up here, but the promise of rain and the chilly wind tonight left it empty.

Unperturbed, Clarke walked to the area and stood by the tall parapet, resting her forearms on it. She took deep, calming breaths as she looked over the residential streets of Costial, the city she'd called home for ten years now. She could barely make out the mountain chain in the distance, but she knew it was there, majestic as ever surrounded by the sprawling forest. She briefly thought about the Mountain Men and how they'd survived for a century beneath the ground. What it must've felt like to see the same people every day, to never meet a stranger, or to never feel the sun on their faces.

"So maybe you don't like small-talk with anyone."

Clarke didn't need to turn around to know that voice by now. "I just needed some air for a few minutes."

Lexa leaned against the parapet next to her, though with a good three feet between them.

"Are you alright?"

"I'm fine. I was thinking about the Mountain Men actually. How abandoned they must've felt."

Lexa looked toward the horizon, where the mountains hid in the night. "They were forgotten, but I don't think they dwelled on it. You'd be surprised how many good stories I had to leave out to fit my report. Memories about times where their parents and their grandparents laughed, kissed each other, and danced together. People are resilient no matter the cards they're dealt. They made lives for themselves - different from ours, but who's to say they were any less fulfilling?"

Clarke turned to her, not knowing what to say for a moment. It didn’t escape her that Lexa seemed to genuinely want to engage with her. 

"It must've been fascinating to listen to them."

"It was. Opening the channels of communication took time, but I went into journalism for these stories."

"Have they had visions?" Clarke asked, curious.

Lexa shook her head before taking a sip of her own beer. "I didn't ask. It wasn't appropriate at the time and looking back I know it would've made them uncomfortable. They're very… spiritual. Connected to the world in a way we could never be. I'm sure their insight would be fascinating, but some lines shouldn't be crossed."

Clarke lifted her bottle. "I'll drink to that."

Lexa smiled back, drinking another sip of her own.

"So did Semet say anything that throws a wrench in your theories?" Clarke wondered.

Lexa chuckled and looked over at the city again. "He gave me his number to talk further, but he did mention he wasn't in it. Only saw his brother."

Clarke's eyebrows rose. "His brother?"

"Hm-mm. That got my attention too. I don't think I've ever heard about someone not being in their own vision."

"Seems like we still have new things to learn."

Lexa considered her next words carefully. "Writing about people's visions has been… the most gratifying experience of my career. It's pushed me to think differently and it's changed the way I work."

Clarke could tell it wasn't easy for Lexa to talk about it. Not her work, but the way it made her feel. Maybe it was just a morsel, but she was opening up and it was more than Clarke had ever heard from her.

"I haven’t drawn any conclusions and I probably don't know any more than a blogger or someone's Twitter thread," Lexa continued with a small shrug. "But there's still a part of me that questions the degree of influence. I've heard too many stories about people being changed to their core to not be slightly wary."

Clarke frowned: "You don't think they're a positive thing?"

"I told you about the woman who left her husband because of a vision. Do you think he'd see her vision as a positive? I wouldn't say they're either/or, but the repercussions aren't negligible."

"Leaving him was her interpretation of it, though. We can't know for sure that's what the vision meant."

Lexa nodded. "You're right. It'll always be up to the person who has it."

Clarke cleared her throat. "You and I - we had the same one. I had the during, you had the after. Has that ever happened?"

Lexa tilted her head to the side. "Not that I've heard of, but it might not have been…" she trailed off, tongue-tied.

"What? The same time?"

"Hm."

Clarke laughed before taking another sip of her beer. "Alright then."

Lexa looked away with a growing smile. "You're the one who brought up interpretation."

"Uh-huh. If that's what you want to tell yourself."

It was flirting plain and simple and Clarke was very aware they both knew it. She'd missed it - that flutter in the pit of her stomach when flirting with someone. The first steps around each other; testing the waters; knowing the attraction had to be mutual by now. This was a game she could play. 

"Twice," Clarke hummed. "That's very presumptuous of you."

"I'm just taking the facts at face value. There's no clear indication of a timeline and-"

"Do you know I'm not even sure it was you?" Clarke interrupted.

Lexa narrowed her eyes. "You said it was."

"I guessed. Messy brown hair, slim but fit - could be anyone."

Lexa pushed off from the parapet, stepping closer. "I don't believe you."

Clarke stood her ground, feeling a throb of desire. When Lexa was intense like this, she had no doubts it'd been her. But then there was that other side of her - distant, impenetrable - and the clear image in her mind shifted into a blur again.

"Why not? Does it upset you that it might be someone else?" Clarke asked, challenging.

"You wouldn't have told me if you weren’t certain."

"Maybe I wanted to get you off my back."

Lexa smiled slowly. "I think that's exactly where you want me."

Clarke's mouth dropped open. "Are you drunk?"

"Barely tipsy."

"Lexa. What are you doing?"

Lexa stopped short. "I'm sorry, I thought-"

Clarke was the one stepping closer this time. "No, I don't want an apology, I want an explanation. Clearly, you want… something from this. You talk to me; you flirt; you asked me out."

"I had a spa-"

"Come on. You don't even believe that."

Lexa swallowed. "Maybe I was wrong too. Maybe it wasn't you."

"It's one step forward, two steps back with you. I don't get it." Clarke set her bottle down. "Fine then, there is one way for me to be sure. We can settle this right here, right now."

Lexa's eyes flickered down to her lips before she caught herself. "There is?" She asked barely audibly.

"If you'll let me…"

Slowly, Clarke reached for her wrist. She felt Lexa tense and then relax, holding her eyes while Clarke undid the buttons of her sleeve. When they were loose, she pushed the sleeve up her arm. Clarke felt her heart beat faster the more skin she uncovered, gently pushing the fabric past Lexa's elbow. She tried not to think how soft and warm she felt beneath her fingertips, or if she was imagining the way Lexa's breathing stuttered a bit.

Lexa must've known what Clarke was trying to find out. Her eyes darkened when Clarke finally glanced at her arm. The bottom of a tattoo peeked out from beneath the bunched up sleeve, thick lines wrapping all around her bicep. Clarke's hand fell like she was burned, but a quick Lexa reached out to take it in hers.

"Lexa," Clarke gasped.

"Is that all you need to be sure?" Lexa asked quietly, face drawing closer.

Clarke found it hard to even think. "I-I could always find another way."

"Oh?"

Clarke's eyes closed when she felt Lexa's nose brush against hers, but the anticipation of a kiss remained just that. 

"Then make sure of it," Lexa ordered tenderly in her ear as their fingers laced together. "Close your eyes tonight and make sure it was me."

Clarke felt her skin become heated, the pulsing between her legs desperate for attention. "What if it is? What if it's not?"

Lexa stepped back, her eyes hooded like she was drunk. "I guess we can put my theory to the test."

"Your theory?"

"Whether we're inevitable or not."

"Lexa-"

Lexa let go of her hand and walked toward the exit. "Have a good night, Clarke."

* * *

When Clarke got home after Wells and Raven dropped her off, the stillness of everything was in stark contrast to the apartment full of life and laughter she had been in for hours. She didn't mind the quiet though - loved it, even, especially after long days at the café. But maybe there could be... a little more life to the place. 

By the time she got to bed, her body was buzzing. Clarke turned on her back and took a deep, steadying breath. She couldn't stop thinking about the way Lexa had touched her. What she had husked in her ear. 

She hadn't… dared. Not even once. Getting herself off to the thought of Lexa had felt all sorts of wrong, especially knowing she'd have to face her at the café on a regular basis. But it was unbearable now. Clarke slid a hand beneath the hem of her sleep shorts and between her legs, moaning when she found herself wanting. It was no surprise - not after the rooftop. She closed her eyes and tried to focus, remembering her vision in fragments at first.

But her vision wasn't what she wanted. Her vision was just that - a fantasy. She wanted the reality of Lexa; the Lexa she'd felt against her tonight; the Lexa who'd made her dizzy with mere words.

So she imagined the rooftop instead: her, pressed against the parapet, and Lexa pressed against her. She imagined Lexa's hand going up her thigh, slowly pushing up the fabric of her dress. She could still smell her, could still feel her mouth by her neck. Lexa hooked her fingers in her underwear and slid it down, encouraged when she felt how wet Clarke was. Clarke had to imagine how Lexa would moan; if she would be vocal or not; how deep her fingers might reach. She touched herself slowly at first, head thrown back and mouth agape.

She didn't know if Lexa was a talker in bed, but it was easy to recall the shiver down her spine when she'd told her to think of her. This time her words were dirtier, spurring her on. Clarke's thighs widened as the ache inside her swelled and she added a second finger. 

"Lexa," she gasped, bringing her other hand to her breast to squeeze it roughly.

Her thoughts scattered all over: Lexa gripping her hips to turn her around, leaning down so that Clarke felt her weight on her back. Lexa taking her from behind, filling her with two and then three fingers. Overwhelmed, Clarke turned on her stomach and groaned in desperation, knees pressing into her mattress while she brought herself over the brink. She moaned loudly into her pillow, her orgasm blindsiding her. 

Clutching her sheets with one hand, Clarke's grip loosened slowly. She let out a small moan and felt her muscles loosen as her knees finally caved and she flopped onto her mattress. It had been far too long.

Turning on her back, Clarke kept her eyes closed as her breathing returned to normal. She wasn't too eager to open them to a lonely room, at least not for now. She moved her body to drag the sheets atop her and slipped her hands beneath her pillow, her stomach already in knots at the prospect of seeing Lexa tomorrow. 

But there was no going back now. Clarke was sure Lexa knew it too. No matter what this was between them, if two nights were all they'd need to work out the tension between them, denying it was not in the cards. At least not the ones Clarke held.

-

[part seven]