#salvage client salt

[jadeacereigen]

I think an underrated aspect of Separation Arc and why it works so well is that once Mob finally stands up for himself and stops going to work, we think we can expect the following to happen:

Reigen quickly flounders at work but stubbornly denies he's incapable without Mob's help

Reigen eventually runs into a client who truly needs the help of psychic powers (e.g. the client is haunted by an evil spirit who cannot be exorcised with salt)

Reigen realizes that he truly needs Mob to not be seen as a fraud and that he shouldn't have taken him for granted

Reigen seeks out Mob and apologizes, Mob accepts his apology and agrees to work for him again

Except... that's not what happens. Reigen does get upset and lonely without Mob, but his business runs fine—in fact, Reigen's own ambition and smart thinking actually allow him to find greater success as a psychic. The only reason Reigen's public downfall even happens is because he was maliciously tricked by Jodo, he'd figured out on his own that the kid wasn't possessed! This and the fact that Jodo is seeking petty revenge for Reigen "humiliating" him (when Reigen actually saved his life no less) really makes us feel like Reigen's public mockery is unfair and unjustified... even though we've always known from the beginning that Reigen is a fraud.

Isn't that a strange turn of events?

Then we get to the press conference. It's possible that even if Mob hadn't helped him at the end, Reigen could've still managed to salvage some of his public image. He was calmly answering people's questions and answering truthfully, pointing out that they had no evidence he was a fraud and that no one had ever had an issue with his work before the show. But all of that stops mattering to Reigen when he realizes that despite all his efforts from childhood, he's still just a lonely, lonely man who has never had any idea what he wants to do in life. The only reason he kept running his psychic business in the first place was because Mob showed up in his dull life and brightened it up with his vivid color.

It is finally here, after all this time we've been spending with Reigen, that we both figure out the truth: Reigen needs Mob not because of his powers, but because Mob is his friend and inspires him to be better. And this full understanding of Reigen's complex character and deep connection with Mob is what hits all of us so hard in this episode, it's so painfully human and real and we would not have gotten all of this had the story just played out as expected.

Thus culminates the genius subversions of Separation Arc: despite having the world's attention all focused on him, Reigen only makes one honest apology to one boy. This boy might not even watching this at all—if he is, he's probably watching this with spiteful bitterness—but it's still important that this boy knows...

You've grown up so much. You know that?

[l3l-diving-service]

Salvage Clients: I’m a cheapskate. I’ll give you a finder’s fee and that’s it. I don’t care if I give you obscure and incomplete maps or what they look like, or the fact you have to travel around the world and go to various depths in order to get them.😤😒

Dolphin Show Clients: This is a give and take relationship. If you give me a spectacular performance with your dolphin/whale, then I’ll give you lots of money.🧐

Tourist Clients: Here, take my money!! ALL OF IT!!! Don’t argue with me, TAKE IT!!! I insist!!! Thank you for giving me a memorable vacation!!!🤑😍😁

Photo Clients: This is a nicely taken photo. I would still give you an F, though.🧐

[lemonjoonah]

Wrapped Together (M)

Pairing: Namjoon x Reader Word Count: 18K Rating: M Genre: Christmas AU, Romance, Drama  Warnings: Protected sex, oral (m. rec.), referenced illness/death of parent, swearing, classism. Summary: Despite your best efforts to keep your head down, to self-preserve and endure what will no doubt be the worst Christmas of your life, you are still roped into volunteering for the hospital's annual gift wrap fundraiser. The enticing factor that lured you out? The promise of a new shift partner, Kim Namjoon. Though your first day together starts off with a slight miscalculation of his skills for wrapping, he soon becomes your essential ally in the fight to get through this lonely holiday season.

| Secret Santa Collab | My Masterlist |

A/N: A big thank you to @kimtaehyunq​ for asking me to join her Secret Santa Christmas Collab, this was my first collab ever and I absolutely loved it. And of course to my beta readers @m00nchild-shi​ and @ladyartemesia​ thank you for helping me gain the courage to post this. I hope that this fic is able to bring a bit of comfort to those celebrating the holidays a little differently this year, so please enjoy!

...

-5 Weeks Until Christmas-

Amidst the chatter of the office, a dull rumble reaches your ears and vibrates the desk beneath your fingers, waking you from the repetitive haze of your hundredth call report. The moment of confusion switches to frantic action when your brain finally catches on and recognizes it as your own personal phone. Scurrying through your purse, you nab it just in time, but after checking the caller ID you desperately wish you hadn’t. 

You knew this call was coming, you’ve dreaded it since you felt the first freezing snowflake on the tip of your nose, when you heard the first carol blaring over the radio, and saw the first tacky inflatable gracing a lawn on your street. It happens every year, like clockwork, though this will be the first time she’ll be enlisting one and not two. Unable to put off the dreaded moment any longer, you answer, accepting that if you rip the band-aid off now and decline her invitation to join the wrapping fundraiser, it’ll be one less uncomfortable moment later. 

“Aunt Emma, hey it’s been awhile.” She’s not exactly your aunt, but you’ve known her ever since you and your mother settled down here ten years ago. With little other family nearby she was one of the few you and your mom could always count on. Making your task to turn her down all the more difficult now.

“My dear, how are you holding up? I’m so sorry to do this but I'm calling with some rather unfortunate news.”

“Oh?” You exclaim, careful not to sound too hopeful that you might be free of your heavy burden.

“Yes, well it’s regarding the wrapping fundraiser. I wanted to put you on the same shifts as myself or Maria. I didn’t want to have you alone, since, well, you know... but there are so many rookie volunteers this year. And with you being part of the organization for so long, I was hoping you work with one of them instead for the evening shifts? It’ll just be you and him, do you think you could manage it?”

“I-I uh...” Now this is something you had not expected. You spent the past few weeks worrying about how you might have to work side by side with pitying glances, condolences, and referenced scripture from the usual staff. Any thoughts and prayers for your loss would likely turn you into a pool of tears. Not something you want to happen in public, or private for that matter, but if you are partnered with a newcomer, one who knows nothing of your past, maybe... maybe it wouldn’t be so bad. “I can do that.”

“I knew you could! I’ll put you down for the weekday evenings from the seventh up to Christmas. You’re off work at four, right? I’ll send you more details later, but do you want me to be there to introduce you to the other volunteer?”

“No!” You blurt out, insisting in a volume far louder than necessary, but you can’t risk her acting on the offer. Introductions when done by Emma are dicey at best, with one solid breath she has the capacity to share every bit of your sad history, leaving you exactly where you’d rather not be. “I’m sure we’ll be fine. No need to put yourself out like that, you can just tell me their name now and save yourself the trip.” 

“Thank you dear, always so considerate. One second let me just grab that for you...” She pauses on the phone line, as you look around your office in worry, not wanting to get in trouble for taking a personal call on the clock. “Ah here it is. You’ll be working with Kim Namjoon...” 

...

-Less than 3 Weeks Until Christmas-

After finishing work you head off to the mall for your first day on wrapping duty. It should be a relatively quiet night, since the majority of the crowd typically disperses at this time, heading home to be with families for dinner. Your own sits in a paper bag on the passenger seat of your car. A solitary meal as you battle the rush hour traffic. Finishing off the last of the salted fries with a lick of your fingers while you secure a parking spot. 

Flipping down your visor you scoff when confronted with your appearance, your makeup melted off thanks to the struggles of your earlier shift. You dab and blend a fresh blot of concealer on the dark bags beneath your eyes, determined to erase any evidence of your doleful days and sleepless nights. 

The rented store space is already set up, with a long table propped up right at the entrance. Dressed with a variety of paper and ribbon and looking particularly festive. The other volunteers give you a brief greeting and run down before they leave and pass the duties off to you. With them gone you take a seat, looking down at the selection you have to offer this year, trying with all your might not to focus on the empty chair beside you, one that is usually fill by your-

“Hi, sorry I’m late...” Your gaze flicks up from the table, startled to find a giant of a man. Greeting you with a smile warm enough to melt your frozen expression. 

“H-hi,” You stutter out, staring at his handsome face framed with light brown locks, feeling as though you’ve seen it before, but can’t quite place where. “You must be Namjoon?” You ask, running through the list of actors and singers in your mind but coming up empty on who he reminds you of.

He nods, before confirming your name too, and launching into the reason behind his tardiness. “The traffic was not in my favour today.” He gestures to the table and the vacant seat behind it. “May I?” 

“Of course.” You quickly scoot the folding table over so he can slip by the barrier that separates you from the mall. He takes off his coat to reveal a whole suit beneath, though he soon disposes of the jacket and tie too. You try not to gulp as he rolls up his sleeves in front of you, his arms flexing as they reveal themselves. 

“Pretty quiet?” He asks looking around the mall. 

“It usually is around now, give it an hour or two.”

“Have you been doing this long?”

“A few years...” You mumble, not wanting to dive too deep in that well, you quickly turn to pin the question on him instead. “What prompted you to volunteer? Did Emma enlist you during her recruiting effort?”  

“She did, I found her posting the flyer at my workplace.” Namjoon chuckles. “But I’ve seen you all set up here before, and since my usual Christmas plans with my family have changed, I thought I’d join you all instead.”

“Oh, so you’re not spending Christmas with them?” 

“No, they’ve gone to visit my sister and her family in her city this year. I unfortunately have a few work commitments I can’t get out of to make the trip in time, but rather than just mope about at home I thought I might be of some use.” Namjoon smiles again, his fingers folding the corner of the wrapping paper in front of him. “What about you, any plans?”

“No, I usually spend it with my mom, but she won’t be with me this year...” Or any year going forward, you consider while you give him a weak smile. She was the very reason you joined this organization all those years ago, when Aunt Emma was making her rounds and signing up everyone she could at the hospital, you and your mother were there for an appointment, your mom offered up both of your services lending you to a tradition that would extend for years through her treatment, remission, and the final return. 

“So we're in the same boat?” 

“I guess so.” His grin is so contagious, despite the differences in your situation you can’t help but agree.

Your first client of the evening comes forward and drops a small pile of kids toys in front of you both . “Thank god you're here. If I bring these home unwrapped my kids won’t hesitate to spoil the surprise.” You divide the presents between you and Namjoon while the mother keeps talking and flicking through the different styles of paper offered. “At least if they’re wrapped I can say I saw Santa at the mall and he gave me these early. They are so hard to fool these days.” 

“I take it you’ll want the Santa stickers?” You ask pointing to a closed box behind you, hidden away from the wide and prying eyes of young children passing by. 

“Yes, thank you so much!” 

“No problem.” You assure her while putting the last piece of tape on the stack of video games. Though when you look over to check on Namjoon you find that he has barely even started. He cut off a sheet entirely too big and is attempting to fold it around the boxed animatronic pet. Your eyes stare at the state of the poor paper unable to look away from the crumpled carnage. But the shock soon turns to amusement over his determination to salvage the mangled sheet, and you find yourself biting your lip in an attempt not to laugh. Luckily the woman in front of you hasn’t noticed but once you're finished with yours, you reach over for the assist. 

“Here, I can take over that one. Could you do the ribbon for me?” 

 Namjoon nods opening his mouth in an embarrassed grin. He does manage to secure the strand around the package but loses the spool before he can cut it. The red ribbon rolls all the way to your foot, before you stop it with a tap on the sole of your boot. Namjoon winces, while you let out a chuckle before bending over to hand it back to him, and finish wrapping the other present. 

The attempt at a ribbon curl unfortunately goes the same as the package before it, with him completely at a loss and using the wrong edge of the scissor blade. Trying to save him you make another suggestion. “If you want you can always use the premade sticker curls.” 

Namjoon nods and places them on the two packages along with the vibrant sticker of a cartoon Claus winking as he delivers the warning, ‘Do not open ‘till Christmas, Santa’s watching.’

As you load up the presents into a bag, Namjoon takes to the cashbox, looking expectantly from the client with his dashingly dimpled grin. 

“Oh right.” She comments with an awkward smile. Opening her Gucci bag and matching wallet, the corners of her lips turning down when she rifles through several triple digit bills unable to find any smaller denomination. 

The stand is by donation only, but the implication has always been that one should compensate the fundraiser for the service provided. You can usually tell when someone intends to leave no payment at all, and unfortunately you know this act all too well. She’ll apologize and say that she has to run to the bank and get some cash, but you’ll never see her again. Namjoon, unfamiliar with this ploy, continues to give his eager smile, and to your utter shock she submits, handing him a hundred dollar bill. 

Namjoon thanks her profusely as she melts too under his gaze muttering, “Not a problem.” Before walking off clutching her now wrapped gifts. 

You look to Namjoon in disbelief while he locks the money away in the cash box. Only breaking the silence when the client is fully out of earshot. “How the hell did you do that?!”

“Do what?” He raises an eyebrow completely oblivious to what he just achieved. 

“She... she... you got her to donate, and such a large amount. How?”

“What do you mean how? People give that much all the time don’t they?”

“No, they don’t!” 

“Oh...” He gives you another of his knee weakening smiles. “Sorry I assumed, I guess I’m just used to it.” He scratches at the back of his neck looking down at the table.

“Used to it? Where on earth do you see, do you get used to, that kind of generosity?”

“Through my job I suppose?” His grin turns to a look of embarrassment. “I work in art procurement, currently under contract with the museum. I seek out collectors and convince them to donate or loan out their assets.”

It would seem that getting people to open up their wallets is practically his profession. “Well... looks like manning the cash will be the perfect job for you.” That smile of his is a dangerous weapon, and one you would be remiss not to use in the fundraiser’s efforts. Though it still leaves one question unanswered. “But I have to ask...” Your previously concealed giggling comes to the surface. “Why on earth would you volunteer for a holiday wrapping station if you don’t know how to wrap?”

A blush reaches his cheeks. “Last year when I was here... I left with far more than I was expecting, and feeling as though I should have given more. So I figured if I couldn’t be with my own family, I wanted to do this instead.” He starts habitually folding a paper scrap. “And maybe I’d learn a useful skill-”

When a streak of red is left on the paper trailing behind his finger you jump to interrupt. “Is that...”

“Fuck.” He mutters pulling his index close to examine it. “Yeah, those scissors are sharp, didn’t realize I drew blood though.”

You immediately start rummaging around in your bag. “I know I have a couple in here, one second.” You pull out a small box of bandages and peel apart the papers to reveal the adhesive.

“You carry band-aids in your purse?” Namjoon asks, with a raised brow.

“You're the one who cut their finger trying to make a ribbon curl.”

“It wasn’t a criticism, sorry I just thought it was... nice.” He holds up the injury and you're careful to wrap the strip around it.

“Yes well,” Your face heats up as you catch yourself lingering. “Try to stay away from the scissors unless absolutely necessary. I’d rather not have to make a trip to the hospital.”

“That would be counter productive wouldn’t it?” Namjoon laughs outright. 

...

Despite you being the only one to wrap you both manage the evening surprisingly well, pulling in a record donation amount.

“You must be good at your job,” you mutter with a smirk, as you finish counting the lockbox. “I’ve never seen people so happy to part with their money.”

“I only showed them how good of a job you did,” Namjoon explains. “I’ve never seen someone put so much care into wrapping.” 

“First impressions for a gift can be important too.” You justify as you secure the cash in a deposit bag. “They put a lot of care into selecting the gift, why shouldn’t I exemplify that?”

“Even the gift cards?”

“Especially the gift cards. I have to make them memorable somehow don’t I?”

“True.” Namjoon concedes, with a small frown.  “Listen I’m sorry if I didn’t make a good first impression on you myself. If you want I can call Emma and we will find someone else to help you.”

“No, I enjoyed working with you. It just caught me off guard that you didn’t actually know how to wrap. If you get bored of handling the cash I could try and teach you if you’d like... you said you wanted to learn right?”

“You’d be willing to show me?”

“Definitely, though let's stick to the premade ribbon curls. I’d rather not have to use anymore band-aids if I can avoid it.” 

After pulling down the gate and locking up the station up behind. Namjoon accompanies you to the bank to drop off the deposit before you part ways for the evening, with you going out one exit and him another. 

The sudden blast of cold air forces you to huddle in your coat, and crank the heat the very second you step into your car. As the windows to thaw and frost retreats, you spot your tall wrapping partner waiting at the bus stop. 

“Now why would he...” You’re left perplexed judging from the description of his job and quality of his attire you assumed him to drive some sort of flashy car, never would you think he would take public transportation. 

You drive over and stop right in front of Namjoon, rolling down the window. “Where do you live?”

“The Swan Estates, but if you don’t leave near there that’s fine I don’t mind bussing home.” Namjoon looks down the road. “It should be here soon.”

“It’s no problem, I pass by that area on my way home.” You reach across the car for the handle opening the door. “Come on get in. It’s too cold to wait for a bus.”  

Namjoon nods, and eagerly hops into the car holding his hands close to his vents with a sigh. “Thanks.”

“Don’t mention it. I didn’t think to ask, I just assumed-”

“That I could drive?”

You nod giving him a sheepish grin this time. 

“As you saw earlier I’m rather accident prone. I think it’s safer for everyone if I leave the driving to others.” He chuckles looking out the window. “What about you? When not rescuing people from cold transit stops or wrapping disasters, what do you daylight as.”

You grimace at the question knowing your answer is nowhere near as impressive as his. “I’m a phone-rep for Interlude Shipping, I work in their tracking department.”

His reaction is not the usual glazed expression you get when you reveal that you work in a call centre, but a look of awe. “You must be so busy this time of year, how do you have energy for volunteering too?”

“I’m used to it.”

“Do you like it there?”

“It’s... a paycheck. I needed a full time position with benefits right out of school and that was what was available. I would have preferred something else but...” You stop yourself, scolding how much you almost revealed. Finding it far too easy to talk to Namjoon. He doesn’t pester you to continue but lets your abrupt end linger in the silence until he points out his house within the estate. “So I’ll see you tomorrow?”

Namjoon nods in agreement with his dimples on full display. “Looking forward to it. Thanks again for the ride.”

After he leaves your car another nervous giggle you’ve been holding in finally escapes you. Three weeks working with this kind, considerate and downright gorgeous man. Though there’s no ring on his finger, he has to be attached to someone. Men like him don’t walk around single for long. Your shoulders fall at the thought, despite the fact that you have no intention of forming an attachment at this time... it’s still too soon. 

Before you even pull out of Namjoon’s driveway, your phone vibrates from the cup holder you stashed it in. Aunt Emma’s name popping up on the display. You press the green button to accept and put her on speaker while you pull out onto the road. 

“Hello my dear, just checking in to see how the first night went?” 

“Good, no great actually. I think you’ll be happy with the result.”

“And your partner? Everything working well with him?”

“Yeah,” You confirm looking up in the rearview mirror taking one last look at Namjoon’s house. “He’s really nice, we already have a system in place so I think we’ll work well together.”

“That’s wonderful to hear. I was worried at first, wondered if I had made the right decision-”

“You did!” You encourage her, not wanting her to change her mind, and make another switch.

“Great, so we’ll carry on as is then. I’ll message Maria to let her know, I think she’s still on shift at the hospital though...” Aunt Emma mutters to herself. “Speaking of which I had to stop by there today and guess who was asking about you?” 

You freeze in the front seat of your car, unable to say his name, but that doesn’t stop your chatty Aunt from continuing on despite your silence. 

“That Jackson, such a nice young man, it’s a pity you-” 

“Aunt Emma, I’m so sorry but I should go. ” You cut her off unwilling to listen to her disappointment over your own personal matter. “It’s getting late and I have work in the morning.”

“Oh of course, no problem dear. Call me if you need anything.” 

When you arrive at your cold and empty apartment. The silence greets you with the usual punch to your gut, just as it has for the past eight months. She should be there to say hello and ask you about your day, just as she always had. But all that’s there to welcome you is the stack of dusty Christmas decor boxes thrown in the corner of the living room. Unwilling to spend another minute alone you sulk off to bed, ready to put another day behind and start the next. But for the first time in a while, you are actually looking forward to a fraction of the never ending cycle. 

...

Whoever said Christmas time is the most wonderful time of year, clearly never worked a customer service job. They’ve never been yelled at for four hours straight, gone to lunch, and then endured another four. With a couple weeks still left until the looming deadline of Christmas you can only imagine what you’ll have to listen to in the coming days. The woes of a parent trying to track down their child's number one gift... it’s enough to send chills down your spine. Just once you’d like to find someone happy on the other end of the line, someone who didn’t need something from you, someone who called just to say hi, and indulge you with a friendly chat. 

With the last call of the day done you throw on your coat, and bolt out of the office before anyone else. Elated by the fact that you have somewhere else to be, happy that someone else is expecting you. Namjoon beats you to the station today, chatting with the other volunteers as they leave. One of them pats you on the arm and delivers a sad smile, you seize with fear and the worry that they had discussed you, but when you find Namjoon beaming without a hint of concern the weight lifts and you can once again forget your loss for now. 

“Hey, how was work?” He asks.

“Good... good.” You cover with a smile not wanting to drag him down. He doesn’t look convinced his eyes narrow and the corner of his lip twitches, but you reciprocate before he can confirm. “How about your day?”

“Quiet, I’ve spent the past few months alongside the curators putting together an exhibit and with it finally finished all that’s left is to wait until it’s over.”

“So you had to stay here for Christmas only to wait for it to end? That’s too bad.”

“There are a couple other tasks I have to attend, an auction, and an event for the patrons, but the tear down on the 24th is pretty important, some of the lenders will want their pieces back in time for Christmas.”

“That’s such a miserable deadline for so much work. Why would they ask you to give up your Christmas Eve to do that? Surely it can be done after the holiday can't it?”

“Not this one, it’s ‘The Gift of Christmas’ Past’ exhibit,” Namjoon explains. “Many people were good enough to donate their family heirlooms for the majority of the season, but come the actual holiday, it’s time for them to return home.”  

You just about fall off your chair in awe. You’ve seen that exhibit advertised everywhere, even been tempted to go yourself, but the thought of going alone has prevented your attendance. “I had no idea, that’s such a popular exhibit, you worked on that?”

“I did, I even helped come up with the idea for it.” Namjoon beams, with a small amount of red rises to the surface of his cheeks. “The curators at the museum have been more than accommodating. I never thought I’d get the chance to step into their roll myself. I was lucky to be given the chance, so you can understand why I had to stay and help them once it’s finished. Of course it’s given me some other opportunities I would never have had in the past too, like the ability to help you here.” 

You nod still looking at him in admiration, while in your mind a further divide falls between you. As friendly as he is to you, it’s obvious that he’s way out of your league. Even if you wanted to pursue something more with him, someone of his status... really it’s a wonder he even looks in your direction, let alone chose to volunteer at this tiny holiday wrapping station.  

Your conversation is interrupted by a mall goer with a bag of gifts. Namjoon helps as best he can, supplying you with tape as he learns over your shoulder. Loaning you his finger to help you knot the ribbon around the gifts. With a sizeable donation left in Namjoon’s care you are both left alone at the table again.

Between clients you do your best to show him how to wrap the small boxes and ready cut paper at your disposal. Though his folding has improved, his use of tape can be considered... excessive. “You shouldn’t need more than three pieces on a present like this.” You chuckle as you catch his hand before it can apply the seventh piece of tape. 

“But your packaging looks so durable compared to mine. How is it supposed to hold together if not for more tape.”

“Years of practice with tighter folds and better adhesive placement.” You analyze his work. “You might be an up and coming art curator but wrapping is my craft.”

Namjoon laughs and grabs a fresh sheet along with the scissors. 

“Should I go fetch my band-aids?” You ask, gazing at the sharp implement with trepidation. 

“No I’ve got this, I’m ready to earn my redemption.” Namjoon folds the paper several times before cutting a rounded edge. “Wrapping might not be my forte, but this I mastered long ago.” He opens up the paper grinning madly as he reveals a perfect snowflake.

You giggle at the innocence of the piece in question. “That is quite impressive, when did you become such a proficient?”

“I’d say I peaked at eight. One evening when it was just my sister and I, we covered my whole house with them. Every surface, every window, plastered with paper snow. Though my parents were less than enthused I like to think of it as my first full art show.”

“What on earth possessed you to do it?” You ask, trying to imagine the look on his parents as they returned home to the indoor flurry.

Namjoon looks up with a heavy expression, for such a lighthearted story why does he look so wary to tell you “A mutual fri-”

But as chance would have it he is once again interrupted by another coming to your station. When the post dinner rush hits you hardly get another chance to chat. 

...

-2 Weeks Until Christmas-

The week passes in much the same way as the past two days, but with each evening session Namjoon is able to improve upon his wrapping skills a little more. To the point where you are comfortable to leave him alone for a few minutes to man the station.

“You’re sure it’s all right if I just run to the washroom for a minute?”

“I’ll be fine.”

“I could put up the be back in five minutes sign if you-”

“Go, I can hold down the fort... just leave the band-aids.” You are ready to let out a big sigh when Namjoon holds up his hands in defeat. “Just kidding, I promise, now go.”

You hurry off as fast as you can swearing when you find a line up. By the time that you are finally able to return you find Namjoon finishing up with an attractive woman and her single gift. You smile at her as you join him behind the table, she pauses, caught off guard for a moment but then hands him the donation along with a slip of paper. 

Namjoon opens it as she walks off. Blushing profusely before throwing it in the trash along with the wrapping scraps. 

“What was that about?”

“Nothing... she just must have gotten the wrong impression.”

“Did she give you her phone number?”

Namjoon nods looking down with guilt. 

“And you're not going to keep it? She was gorgeous.”

“What? No, of course not.”

“Right, I assume that wouldn’t go over well with your girlfriend.” You speculate, seeking to figure out his status once and for all.

“No girlfriend.” Namjoon mutters.

“Boyfriend?” 

“No boyfriend either.” Namjoon smiles. “I just wasn’t looking to get her number.”

You look at him in disbelief. If she wasn’t good enough, there’s no way in hell you could ever dream of being with him.

...

The drive home in the evening is rather quiet. Namjoon’s fingers drag across his lips as if in deep compilation. 

“Any big plans for your couple days of freedom?” With Aunt Emma’s team working the weekend that gives both you and Namjoon some time off, but unfortunately apart. 

“What? Oh yes, I suppose.” He answers as though you dragged him from a stupor. “I have an auction to go to tomorrow for work.”

“Buying art for the museum are you?”

“Not exactly in the market to buy. But if you're not busy you should come along, I would love some company.”

“Not because you would love a drive?”

“No, not at all, I was planning on booking a car tonight. I could come pick you up on the way.”

You shake your head. “No, if we’re going together I’ll drive. No need to waste your money on something like that. What time should I pick you up?”

“I’ll have to double check and get back to you but likely late in the morning?” You nod in agreement as he pulls out his phone. “What’s your number?”

You give it to him and your cell vibrates in your pocket as he sends off a text a second later, leaving you with his own.  

“So I guess I will see you tomorrow now then.”

“It’s a date.” Namjoon smiles as he gets out and leaves you in the car. 

You snort in disbelief, staring after him while he runs off to the front door of his house. No, there’s no way, he can’t be serious, it’s not a date, date. The phone vibrates again, reminding you of the unread message he sent, prompting you to look at it before you drive off home.

This was the only phone number I actually wanted.  See you tomorrow,  - Namjoon  

...

You lie in bed caught between denial and anticipation for what’s to come in the next day. Every moment that excitement bubbles up inside, you are forced to push it down with the weight of scepticism. Namjoon was looking to distract from his lonely Christmas, you are just the band-aid to his superficial wound, but would that be so bad? Haven’t you been using him the past week in the same manner, a mode of distraction? The only difference is the depths of your injuries. While his might be a simple cut repaired by time, yours is a laceration straight to the heart, damage that will soon bleed through a flimsy bandage, but at least you can hide it for now, you can conceal the extent of your misery and enjoy the comfort that is him for the holiday. Ripping that band-aid off won’t hurt, not compared to the damage that has already been done.

You look back at your phone smiling at his message, confirming that this is what you want for now, when to your surprise another comes in. 

KNJ: Are you awake? 

You double check the time, 12:23 a little late for a friendly chat isn’t it?

YN: Yeah, everything okay?

KNJ: That depends, what are your thoughts on Hallmark Christmas movies?

You pause in confusion, questioning his motives for such an odd query. Coming up dry you can give him the most truthful answer you can. 

YN: They’re chestnuts.

KNJ: Chestnuts? 🤔

YN: Palatable only when thoroughly roasted. 🔥🔥🔥

Your phone starts ringing a second later, the caller Namjoon. You pick it up to hear him laughing on the other end. “I’ll have to remember that. You up for burning a film? I could use another open fire, there’s a pretty horrible one on their channel right now.”

“I’m sure I could spark an ember of criticism. How bad are we talking?”

“There’s a made up country, a town that looks like it exists solely for the purpose of celebrating Christmas-”

“And let me guess, a prince?”

“You know it?”

“Nope, just following the trend of tropes.” You grab your earbuds and venture out to the living room wrapped in your blanket, a beverage in hand, and ready to turn on your own TV. With one bud lodge in your ear to listen to Namjoon the other is free to take in the cringeworthy dialogue. “My god why were you watching this?”

“Couldn’t sleep, and I thought this would also help put me in the Christmas spirit, but I can’t stop laughing at how bad it is.” Namjoon chuckles deeply as the heroine stumbles over a mere pebble and falls into the hero’s arm. 

“I don’t think you have any right to laugh at that part.” You join him in laughter. “You two appear to have some similarities.”

“Wait, so does this make me the clumsy lead and you the dashingly perfect love interest?”

“Oh most definitely, I’ll be saving your Christmas.”

“I suppose you are pretty perfect.”  

You’re thankful that Namjoon isn’t there to see your response, silently choking on your glass of water, followed by spilling your sip all down your shirt, further emphasising your next point. “I’m not perfect.”

“Well you should let me see that side sometime, or I will continue to feel like this poor woman who is confronted with someone way out of their league.” 

Namjoon thinks that you're out of his league? “No, I’m sorry but in order for me to save your Christmas based on this movie I have to play the perfect hero.” Of course the leading lady swoons in her prince's arms. “I just wish the characters had more depth, I’ve read kids books with a wider emotional range.”

“Me too. And the timing,” Namjoon scoffs. “It’s always so perfect. They always meet at the perfect moment and latch on immediately only to have everything work out in their favour, and it all claims to be a Christmas miracle, it doesn’t work like that.”

“That sounds like someone’s been scorned before on Christmas.”

“Not scorned no. More like a missed opportunity, one that I’ve regretted for a long while.”

 “Anything I can help with?” You ask. “As the supporting lead that is my mission is it not?”

“Maybe, I’ll have to think about it. Unfortunately my dilemma isn’t so easy to solve.”

“I don’t think anyone's dilemma’s are ever as easy or clear cut as theirs.” You yawn as you lay down on the couch and watch the pitiful drama unfold. “Their world is perfect and always has their back through some sort of mystical power or being.”

   “I think people in the real world call that god...” Namjoon chuckles.

“Yeah well, our god is a shitty writer if this is what their creations come to expect.” You murmur, stifling a yawn.  

“Is that a crack in your shining armour I spy?”

“No, just commentary.” Though your own internal defences are askew, and the longer you watch the more you understand why. It’s jealousy, jealousy of how quickly they overcome any tragedy, and how they do so with a picture perfect life, as if the creators left all the negative emotions, the realistic impacts of trauma, on the cutting room floor. If only you were that perfect love interest that Namjoon wanted you to be... maybe you can keep the facade until the end of the holidays, at least one of you can have a better Christmas for it. 

All you have to do is continue ignoring the most painful parts, a practice you are well versed in considering the boxes still looming in the shadowy corner, still unmoved after all this time. You know nothing good will come from unpacking them, there is no comfort inside, the only thing that could help is long gone, the story which your mother used to read to you every Christmas before you moved here. You’ve hunted through those boxes so many times while she was still here with you, but now that she’s gone you don’t even have the desire to look, nor the strength to store them away. 

...

You wake hours later with a loud crumpling sound in your right ear. Your bud still in place, and your call time continues to count past the 7 hour mark. “Namjoon, are you there?” You inquire with a groggy yawn. 

“Fuck... yeah, did I wake you?” 

“It’s fine, sorry I fell asleep.”

“Don’t worry I did too. But unfortunately I seem to have lost an airpod at some point in the night.” The rustling continues as he chats to you. “I refuse to lose another to this couch, it’s taken so many from me already, you’ think I would have learned by now.”

“Oh, then this is a regular occurrence for you? Chatting up women until you fall asleep,” you scoff.

“No! God no, I just usually fall asleep listening to music and then my cushions eat them when I lower my defences.”

“I leave you to battle it out with your sofa, but what time should I pick you up?” 

“Eleven okay with you?” 

You double check the clock, ensuring you have enough time for a shower and to look presentable. “Yeah that works. I’ll see you then.”

...

You pull into the packed parking lot of a large warehouse. With Namjoon looking dapper in a blazer and peacoat. You yourself are glad to have chosen to dress a bit classier than your usual garb for a Saturday afternoon. When he said it was for work you couldn’t risk dressing down. 

But there is still an air of confusion about your reason for being here. If he’s not attending to buy something for the museum or a client, why is his presence required? The items up for auction are not exactly what you expected, with the majority of it being furniture and woven rugs. You tilt your head in confusion as Namjoon eyes up an old wooden desk. 

“Sorry,” He mutters, seeing you as he comes to from his distracted state. “I have a personal weakness for such items.”

“Don’t be, but is that why we're here?”

“No, although it is tempting.” He nods over to a collection of old black and white sketches on the wall across from you, graphite scenes of the city from long ago judging by subject matter and the yellowing of the paper behind the frame. “They’re the real reason we’re here. When I heard of this estate sale I knew that some of those works would likely come to market. I’m here to find out who buys them, and hopefully see if we can secure a possible loan for the museum in the future.”  

“So how do you do it? How do you convince them to part with such pieces other than that dangerous smile of yours?”

Namjoon humours you, flashing his most coveted weapon. “Many of the artworks found at estate sales like this, they’ve fallen into disrepair. They often haven’t been cared for, likely kept in some musty room where the humidity damages them. The museum has a team of top rated and highly respected conservators who would be able to properly preserve it and slow any further deterioration, and in exchange for their services we ask for a short term loan of the art. 

“A win-win.” 

“I like to think so, but some people are rather protective of their investment. It can be a tricky negotiation which I have been on both sides of when I worked for the private sector.” 

“Which do you prefer more?”

“Definitely the public. The museum doesn’t pay as much, but the audience and notoriety far greater. I really hope that I can continue my work with them once my initial contract ends.”

“I assume securing this for them will help in that goal?” You nod to the pieces, admiring the sought after collection. 

“One can only hope. Who knows, maybe I’ll get my Christmas miracle like the movies promised.” He jokes, putting his hand on your shoulder and leading you on. 

While you and Namjoon continue to look around at the lots up for bidding, he proceeds to fawn over the wooden art and furniture, taking pictures and looking up the makers. 

You can’t help but enjoy his interest, watching his eyes go wide and his mouth gasp when he’s found something which intrigues him. “Have you ever purchased something for yourself at one of these?” 

“A few things, tables, chairs, and books too. It’s a great place to find unique pieces, or things lost to the past.” He gives you a shy smile. “Is there anything you’d like to look for?”

A possible item springs to the forefront of your mind. “Do they have any books here now?” 

Namjoon grins at your request and leads you over to several crates filled to the brim with books. All the copies inside look to be older editions of epic novels, nothing like what you hope to find. Your heart sinks as you let out a sigh of disappointment.

“Can I help?”

“Nah, I think I’m out of luck. I was looking for a kid’s picture book. I briefly met someone at the wrapping station who found a copy second hand, must have been at a sale like this. I was hoping I would have the same success, but that seems like a bit of a far reach.” Had it not been their gift to someone else you would have made them an offer for it or even gotten their name at the very least, but you were so distracted at the time... all you can see and remember to this day was the book in front of you.

“I’m sorry-” Namjoon starts with an unnecessary apology, it wasn’t his fault that you lost the favourite book of your youth, that you missed the chance to give your mother one last glimpse of the pages with you before she passed.

“It’s fine,” You cut him off not wanting to dwell on the loss or risk deteriorating that perfect cover right here in front of him, in front of everyone, when he has something important to attend to. “Should we go find seats before they start the auction?”

Namjoon nods, seeming to examine your eyes with careful study, but he will find no tears, no dampness there, those are locked away tight. He escorts you to a seat near the back. “This way we can get a better view of those bidding without looking out of place.”

The auction lots pass by with many remaining silent. Namjoon points out several antique dealers to you that are snapping up many of the pieces. But the rest of the buyers all appear to be waiting for the same prize that Namjoon is. 

“Do you have any favourites to win?” You whisper to him as the collection is carried into view.

“I’m hoping for anyone I’ve dealt with in the past.” Namjoon nods in the direction of a middle aged woman dressing in a fur trimmed coat and strands of pearls draped around her neck. “Mrs. Coleman already has a few works in one of the exhibits, and Mr. Roth over there.” He turns to a man wearing a tweed jacket and a sturdy wooden cane in hand. “Is one of the most notable patrons of the museum.”

Silence falls in the room as the auctioneer takes up the gavel again and describes the works. Many around you sit up a little straighter as Namjoon’s eyes dart around at those he thinks might attempt to purchase.

The bids flood in, with very few gaps for breath as the numbers are rattled off. It takes only two minutes before the going price is more than your annual salary. You lower yourself, pooling in your seat as the extravagant wealth is thrown around you. 

Once the pace slows, Namjoon's face highlights his concern, his eyes glancing back and forth between two people, the older lady in mink he spoke of before, and an unknown man with a cell pressed to his ear. 

As the wooden hammer drops so do the corners of Namjoon’s lips. 

“And sold to the gentleman on the phone number three-two-eight, number three-two-eight for sixty-five thousand.” The auctioneer announces. 

“Shit.” Namjoon mutters under his breath.

“What, what happens now?”

“Now we have an anonymous buyer who I have no ability to meet or advise.” He sighs, hanging his head, with his fingers dragging across his mouth again.

“I’m so sorry.” You whisper as he nods next to you taking several deep breaths. Your hand reaches out to his arm and he turns to you with a small smile.

“It’ll be fine, I’ll figure something out, but I might as well make the most out of my time here.” With the auction now over he rises from his seat and approaches one of the museum's patrons with an outreached hand. “Mr. Roth, good to see you, you’ll be attending the final night of the exhibit I hope, and who is this with you...”

While Namjoon continues to make pleasantries and exchange business cards you keep your eye on the sketches watching as they are rolled behind the desk and packed away in crates. You approach the area where one of the clerks is recording and distributing the information for the now rightful owners, with a mob of bidders descending on him for their newly purchased items so they might leave as soon as possible. 

It would seem that this business too is feeling the crunch of Christmas. A flurry of paperwork is exchanged in haste passing from one hand to the next, until one signed receipt of purchase escapes his notice and falls to the ground in front of you. Picking it up you wait for the crowd to clear, giving the clerk a chance to recover before you approach with the lost sheet, setting it on the desk before him. His confused gaze soon changes to outright shock over his loss when he realizes what you’ve returned.

He thanks you profusely, causing you wonder how much strife he would have encountered had you not been there to return it. “No problem, you look like you have a lot on your plate.” You smile politely, attempting to soothe your fellow casualty of the Christmas rush. “I just have a question for you though, if that’s okay?” 

“Not at all how can I help?” He agrees, his stance far more relaxed than it was with the horde a few moments before. 

“My friend, he was hoping to get in contact with the purchaser of those sketches there, on behalf of a museum. I don’t suppose there’s any way we could get a hold of them, is there?”

“I’m sorry but not at liberty to divulge that ma’am.” Your rising hope falls, you knew it would be a long shot but you didn’t want to leave without trying. “However... if there’s a phone number or information regarding the museum’s interest I can include that in the paperwork to send off along with the purchase.”

“Really? You would do that?”

When the clerk confirms, you immediately turn on your heel and take a step in Namjoon’s direction before bumping into his solid chest, not realizing that he had already come to find you. 

“What are you doing-”

“Getting you that miracle.” You grab one of his business cards from his hand, and turn back around to give it to the clerk who tucks it into the envelope along with the other documentation. “Thank you.” You smile at the clerk who returns the gesture.

“And you said I have a dangerous smile?” Namjoon mutters as he leads you away with a chuckle. “What did he say exactly?”

“That he would include it with the paperwork for the sale. I just hope they will reach out and call you.”

“Me too.” Namjoon smiles, but it doesn't quite appear to reach his eyes. “Shall we head out. I think I’m done here.”

The drive home is rather quiet, the weight of Namjoon’s gloom hanging in the air and he makes no attempt to hide it. 

“You okay?”

“Yeah, just trying to figure out where to go from here,” he groans. “Those sketches were going to be the start of something new for me. I know the buyer might still come through but I’m not going to hold my breath. I need to keep searching for what comes next, I’m just a little lost, but I’ll find my path again soon.”

“You make it sound so easy.” 

“Sometimes it is, sometimes life will drop it right in front of me and other times I will have to search for it, but that’s a problem for after the holidays.” Namjoon looks out his window at the lights which start to come alive as you drive home. “Are you ready for the big day?”

“Christmas?” You give a nervous laugh, “No, I haven’t even put up any decorations.”

“Why not?!” Namjoon asks in alarm. 

“Just haven’t really felt the need this year. There’s no one there to enjoy them but myself.”

“Which makes it all the more important to put them up.” Namjoon sits up in his seat, his whole persona changing. “I could help you if you’d like?”

You wince over the quandary. With your decorations sitting in your living room under an inch of dust it might arouse some confusion, and his heart would likely sink if he knew how long they actually rested there for. “I’m not sure I’m quite ready for it yet. Maybe another time?”

...

-1.5 Weeks Until Christmas-

Work continues to degrade as the countdown progresses. The only thing getting you through the shifts is the thought of Namjoon’s help at the stand. But as soon as Christmas is over, you wonder if your friendship will go the same way as the festive season, cast aside like the wrapping of the gifts you tended to in the weeks prior. 

After a few days of busy shifts you’re both thankful to make it to another close. But when you are packing up the station Namjoon’s phone starts to ring. He looks down in confusion at the number without a contact attached. “Do you mind?” 

“No, not at all.”

He grins as he answers the phone pacing further back into the vacant shop space and away from the sounds of the echoing mall. You continue to count off the deposit, and roll the wrapping paper. Trying your best not to listen, to give Namjoon his privacy, however you can’t help but notice the happiness in his tone, spotting his dimples from across the room when you sneak a glance. When you grab to move the last box of bows Namjoon ends his call. Tears glisten in the corners of his eyes accompanied by the widest smile you’ve ever seen from him.

“That was- that was the buyer.” He explains as he comes to help you with the final box, taking it from your hands and placing it on the back shelf. “He wants to meet with me this weekend.”

He’s so close, vibrating with an overwhelming delight. His arms move around you as though he is about to pull you in for a gracious hug. You start to congratulate him as he embraces you, “Really?! That’s gre-” only to be cut off when his lips come for yours instead. Once the shock evaporates, you start to appreciate the heat of the moment, the warmth of his skin, the softness of his mouth. Your hands reach up to his toned shoulders and neck pulling him down, diminishing the space between you. Breathing him in like this with your eyes closed, nothing else matters in the moment, nothing other than his firm chest pushing back against yours, his hands on your waist gripping at your shirt.  

With a deep sigh and a bite to his own lip he pulls back. “Sorry I just-”

“Don’t, don’t apologize.” You cut him off this time.  

“I can’t even begin to thank you.” 

“I hardly did anything.” You laugh at the extremeness of his appreciation, though a small part of you dies when you realize his kiss was nothing more than a gesture of gratitude.

 “That’s not true...” He responds, giving you his wide eyes and a shy smile.

On the drive home your companion can barely contain his delight, breaking into random smiles and laughter as he informs his coworkers of the success via text. 

“There’s this event...” Namjoon starts, as you pull in front of his home. “At the museum on the twenty-third, a week from today, I was wondering if you’d like to go with me.” 

“Next Wednesday? But we have a shift at the wrapping station.”

“I spoke to Emma a few days ago and she agreed to cover if we both wanted to go.”

“Emma, making a change so close to Christmas? I don’t buy it. What did you offer her in return?” You ask with a critical gaze. The woman runs such a tight schedule, only something great or important would have prompted her to agree.

“My next year of service.” Namjoon confesses, he looks down at his feet as though he might buckle from the embarrassment. 

“Next year? You already promised to work it?”

“If you want me there that is. I’ll practice more in the meantime, I promise I won’t leave you to all of the difficult packages.” Namjoon chuckles. “But what do you say, will you go with me?”

“Ye-yeah I would love it’s just...” You stutter trying to come up with a good excuse but your brain draws a blank leaving only the truth. “I don’t know how well... how well I’ll fit in there.”

“What? No, why would you think that?” Namjoon places his hand on your leg while you drive. A move which causes the both of you to pause in reaction and him to retreat. “Trust me when I say you belong there more than anyone else.”

You nod your head and give him a small smile, wishing more than anything his hand would return. “I’ll come if you want me there. What’s the attire?”

“Semi-formal, and don’t worry about driving I’ll pick you up.” 

...

-2 Days Until Christmas-

You stand in front of your mirror, wearing a dress which fits your shape perfectly, but stretches your pocket book significantly. The price tags hanging down from the zipper taunt you, tempting you to rip them away, to commit to the indulgence. Even if it’s only for a night, the payoff in the end might be worth the overpriced lace. You give in with a snip of the scissors and a swallow of guilt, letting the printed cardstock hit your bedroom floor. 

 You’ve spent the past couple of hours leading up to this moment in a fit of stress cleaning, disposing of the dust bunnies. Now at least if Namjoon comes over after... you won’t be completely off guard.

The phone on your bedside vibrates with a new message.

KNJ: Just pulling in.

YN: Be right down.

Sliding your shoes on and grabbing what you need, you leave your empty apartment with a growing smile on your face. The moment you can see the car from the buildings foyer both Namjoon and the driver exit the vehicle, though Namjoon is quick to wave the driver back to his seat, choosing instead to hold the door for you himself. 

The thoughtful gesture is made more appealing as if it gives you a full view of your date in his dark three piece suit, his hair tamed back framing his handsome face, whose gaze appears to be giving you the once over for you too.

“You wrap up nice.” Namjoon jokes.

“Of course, I couldn’t embarrass you now could I? Have to land that first impression.”

“You would never. Besides I’m sure my colleagues will be fascinated to know who has enough courage to teach me how to wrap.”

“And how do you plan on introducing me to those colleagues of yours? As your date or your teacher?” You laugh.

“I was actually hoping I could introduce you as my girlfriend.” 

“Your girlfriend for tonight?” You panic, not expecting this development. “Wait, is this one of those fake dating scenarios? Did you tell them you had one and then-”

“I think we’ve been watching too much Hallmark.” Namjoon laughs and shakes his head. “No this is not one of those scenarios, but I’ll take whatever form of companionship you are the most comfortable with.”

He gives you the stare of a man who is looking for more, but you know he won't need you once the holidays pass. His loneliness is temporary, yours is permanent. You’d rather not get your hopes up only to have them lost as he fades away in the cold gloom of January when his family returns. “Let’s see where it goes.”

Upon arrival Namjoon leads you through the massive doors by hand, taking your coat and checking it. The main hall just off the entrance is filled with patrons and staff all mingling and drinking while dining on tiny hors d’oeuvres. You look at the crowd with apprehension.  

Namjoon’s fingers interlace with yours again, a grip clearly intended to give you confidence. “I’ll introduce you to some of the staff first.” 

Several people congratulate Namjoon on the exhibit as he passes, he responds giving them a brief thank you as he ushers you through the crowd. Stopping at a small group of two, who greet Namjoon with a warm welcome. 

“Thank god you’re here, people have kept asking for the brains behind the exhibit.”

“And why didn’t you answer them.” Namjoon smiles before turning to introduce you to them, following up with the man who just spoke. “This is Eric Nam, a curator who I worked on the project with.”

“Don’t pass the torch, we both know it was your idea, I just helped put it into motion.” His coworker smiles gazing at you. “And you must be the one Namjoon has talked so much about.” 

The heat rises to your face as you look to Namjoon who confirms the statement with his own embarrassment. “Thank you Eric for sharing that with her...”

“No problem, it’s the least I could do for someone who gave you the insp-”

Namjoon coughs and shakes his head, cutting off his verbose friend. 

You're about to question your partner himself when the other colleague of his starts asking you questions. “What do you do for a living Ms....” You remind her of your name while Namjoon spotting refreshments wanders off with a whispered promise to get you both a drink. 

“I-I work for Interlude Shipping, in their tracking department.” You explain clasping your hands together in an attempt to settle your nerves.

“Oh, how nice...” The false quaintness in her tone is matched with a smirk as she takes a sip of wine. “Maybe you can help me find out if my sister’s present will arrive in time tomorrow.” 

“Valerie...” Eric growls. 

“What? I’m merely curious about her employment.” She smirks at him before continuing to her inquisition. “How long have you worked there? Did you have to get a degree for your role?” 

“No,” This is exactly what you were afraid of coming here, you just didn’t think the judgement would be coming from someone who works with Namjoon. “I started there right after high school. I didn’t have the luxury to go to an elite school to work in a place like this.” 

Eric comes over and claps you on the back. “Neither did Valerie; she just has family on the board.” Giving a coy smile to his coworker who scowls and stalks off without another word to you.  “In fact you’ve actually done more work here than her in the past month. I hear you’ve been helping Namjoon secure the collection we’ve been after?” 

You nod looking off after the departed curator, worried as to what impact your interaction could have with Namjoon’s position here.

“Don’t worry about her. She’s just bitter that Namjoon didn’t ask her to accompany him here.”

“Oh, does she- do they-”

“Fuck no, but if she’s not everyone’s first choice she’s not happy.” Eric gets in a little closer. “You don’t have to worry about Namjoon looking elsewhere, if he’s at all hesitant it’s just because he’s a little cautious with you.”

“Why would he be cautious?”

“Why would who be cautious?” Namjoon asks, handing you a drink as he appears by your side again. 

 “Mr. Roth, that man should be careful. I heard he had hip surgery recently.” Eric responds, cutting in with a lie to cover your discussion. “It's good of him to still join us tonight, but enough about that, why don’t you go show her the exhibit before it gets too crowded in there?”

Namjoon offers up his arm in agreement. “I suppose we can get started on the tour, if you’d like.”

“Yes please,” You answer, threading your arm through his. “Thanks again Eric, it was nice meeting you.”

“You too, I’m sure I’ll see you again soon.” 

The stand next to the entrance bears all the names of those involved in the creation and a countless list of those who loaned out pieces to make it possible. “There’s so many involved, how large is this exhibit?”

“Not too big, you’ll see why there’s such a long list soon.”

When the door opens you find yourself in a hallway amidst what you can only describe as a snowstorm. The walkway, made to look like an alley set adrift in snow, with flickering lights and paper creations hanging from the ceiling. “Did you make any of those?” You ask, grinning as you squint through the flurrying beams.

“No, I left those to the talents of the students who came by on school field trips. It didn’t take them long before we had enough.”

“Find any new prodigies?”

“Several.” He answers, before pointing to the mounted photos on the wall. “But these works here are some of my favourites.” The pictures are framed to seem as though the viewer is looking in through the pains of a window to happy holiday scenes. From unwrapping presents around the tree to the busy crowds of your very own mall, each image sets out to draw from you a sense of nostalgia. 

“I can see why.” You find yourself lingering on the last of the photos by an accredited local photographer, savouring the display as much as you can, worried that it might end too soon. 

“Don’t worry,” Namjoon whispers, taking your hand in an eager urge to press on, “There’s plenty more to look at.” He points to the end of the hallway, where you find another door, though this one is dressed with a knocker and wreath looking as if it’s the entrance to someone's home.

You open the door to reveal a series of rooms connected by one long hallway. The first you step into you washes over you with warmth and comfort, the sound of a cracking fire surrounds you while the light of fake embers flows from the side. Set up through the room are tables of items from old to new ranging from Christmas tree ornaments, and household decorations to handwritten cards. “All of these-”

“Were loaned by families from the region, they gave a piece of their history and traditions up for most of the season so everyone could enjoy it. Over here we have...”

You could spend hours sitting and admiring in this room alone, but more than anything you want to push on more to see Namjoon’s excitement in sharing it with you. Each room features a different spot of the home. A chilly shed with vintage toboggans and sleds, a kitchen, stuffed with cookbooks and the smells of baking featuring countless cookie cutters of every shape and size. 

The next room is a little unusual and different from the rest, throwing you off for a moment, when the distinct scent of pine hits your nose. In the centre you find what look to be the replication of a massive trunk, and above false branches twinkling with lights. All round in a circle you find toys in glass cases spanning generations, when it hits you. “Are we under the Christmas tree?”

Namjoon gives you his coveted dimpled grin. “Yeah, do you like it?”

“I do. I can’t believe you managed all of this.” You exclaim hurrying between each display like a kid on Christmas morning. From wagons, and Rubik’s cubes, all the way to Furbies and gaming systems he has the whole collection of popular toys throughout the years.  

Namjoon beams with pride once you’ve circled the entirety of the fake trunk and the presents beneath it. “Only one room left, but I think you’ll like this one the most.”

You're ushered into the next, a dimly lit space, a bed with a quilted cover stands in the centre, and on the walls you find countless story books, pinned open to so their stunning art is on display, papering the room with climatic holiday scenes and loveable characters. In one you find Scrooge meeting the ghost of Christmas past, in another you witness the Grinch save the sleigh from a perilous fall. Namjoon was right, this is without a doubt your favourite. While people filter in and out, you take your time looking at each set of pages. Your pace slow and steady, until you reach the special story that stops you entirely, the book you lost long ago, and have been trying to find ever since. Drawn on the pages before you is a little blue koala, with a pale purple nose, round ears, and a smile that lights up his face as he cuts out dozens of snowflakes. Namjoon stands behind you with a hand on your shoulder as you gaze at the book you know to be titled ‘Koya’s Christmas.’ 

You take a deep breath, while trying not to bend to the tears that threaten to break from your eyes. Focusing your attention instead to seek out the owner of the book, but unlike most there is no nameplate attached to this desirable artifact. “Namjoon, who loaned this? Is there any way I could contact them?”

When he gives you a sad smile, your gut clenches over the possibility that this might be a similar issue to what happened at the auction, a lender who wishes to remain anonymous. The only difference here being that you’ll fight Namjoon for the information if you have to. You’ve already let this book escape from you last year, you refuse to let it happen again. “Please, I’ll-” Just when you are about to plead with Namjoon’s integrity, another memory of your past walks into the room, but this one unfortunately has more tragic ties. “Shit,” you whisper, shifting to put your date between you and the newcomer. 

Namjoon catching the change in your expression immediately reaches out in concern. “What? What’s wrong?”

“There's someone I know just over there,” You nod in the direction behind Namjoon. “I’d like to avoid him if I can. Sorry, it-it’s complicated. ”

 Namjoon puts his hands on your shoulders, eyeing a path the closest exit without letting go of you. “Do you want to leave?”

“If that’s okay?” And just when you thought you were free, when you were ready to make a break for the door. The man in question, spots you and calls out your name.

You turn to face him, trying your best to keep your tone even and your lips pulled into a smile. “Jackson? Hey, it’s good to see you.”

“It’s been so long, not since...” Thankful he stops, not dragging up the subject you wish to avoid. 

Namjoon moves closer, moving his arm from your shoulder around your waist, a comforting and protective gesture. “Dr. Wang... I had no idea the two of you were acquainted.” 

“You know him?” You ask Namjoon, your concern rocketing over what else your date might become privy to. 

“Dr. Wang was the phone bidder. I invited him here tonight to see the work we do.”

“The exhibit was impressive, I can’t wait to see what you have planned next.” Jackson confirms. 

“I should go and let the two of you discuss-” You ready to step away when Namjoon’s hand grabs yours and Jackson calls your name again.

“No reason for you to leave, we should catch up.”

“May-maybe later?” You plead with him fighting back the tears, pushing down the memories his presence drags up. “Sorry I just, I need to go.”

You pull your hand free and race to the exit.  

“Wait.” You can hear Namjoon call behind you. Though you continue to proceed out the exhibit and towards the closest exit outside, breaking into the cold evening air, only to find that he still followed. “Let me call for the car and we can go together.”

You stop in realization that your running will not deter him, he’ll pursue you unless you give him a reason otherwise. “No you should stay, this is your big event, I won’t ruin it for you.”

“Not without you.”

“Please Namjoon,” you beg, adamant that he return. “I don’t belong in there, I don’t fit in and I never will. Even when I try...” The ghosts of your past have a way of finding you and destroying your facade.

“I’ve told you before you belong in there more than anyone else-”

“That’s not true. I can barely keep myself together. I can’t, I can’t go back in, I'm sorry.”

“I don’t understand, what does Dr. Wang have to do with it? Did he hurt you? Did he-”

“No! No, he did nothing of the sort. Jackson was always very kind to me. Don’t let me affect your plans or any arrangement, you should go back and talk to him, I just can't be there.”  

“You think I’m going to just drop you for him, especially when he makes you so uncomfortable? No, I’m leaving with you.”

“Fuck, just... please listen to me. He is a good man, he’s a good doctor, you would be foolish to give up this chance.”

“A good doctor...” Namjoon pauses as a grimace hits his face. “Does he have something to do with your mother?”

“How-How do you know about that?” 

“I didn’t mean to pry, I swear. It's just, when I was first talking to Emma about you, out of concern she opened up about your past... about your mother, about your loss.”  

“She told you?” Aunt Emma, you should have known she would do something like that, god forbid at least one person not know your history. “Then all of this, these past few weeks were they all out of pity?” You should have known, there was no way he would like someone like you. It was all out of sorrow for what you’ve been through.

“Not pity no, I like you, I like you a lot. When Emma said you were pushing her and so many others away... I concealed it out of fear of losing you too. I wanted you to open up about it until you were ready. I was just trying to help you get through this.”

You look up at the museum, drawing a distressing connection between Namjoon’s daily life and you. “Why? You think I’m some abandoned project you rescued from a deceased’s estate? One for you to mend, and later show like an achievement? You should have just left me where I was, instead of breaking me further.”  

   Namjoon’s hands immediately pull back from you. “I never meant to hurt you. Only help you move on, you can’t deny that you are frozen in place. You have so much more potential, but you're living in denial.”

“I live there because it hurts less...” You snap back in fury, as he exposes your painful flaws. “I live there so I can work, so I can help others.”

“But what about you? When will you let someone help you?”

You step away unable to answer his question, turning your back on him you race to the sidewalk to hail a nearby taxi, refusing to let him see a single tear fall. 

Once home, you crawl into bed after throwing the dress to the floor. This was so far from the evening you had hoped it to be, with you instead left alone to ruminate on Namjoon’s words. Despising all the evidence he laid bare against you, turning it over again and again in your mind until your morning alarm startles you out of your stupor. Signalling for the last shift before your break for the holidays. 

...

-Christmas Eve- 

It’s finally here, the worst of all days at the call centre. With your eyes heavy from a lack of rest you take a seat at your desk with an extra large coffee in hand. On your computer you have this morning's team email pulled up, and attached to it a list of de-escalation tactics. You’ll need them today because if people don’t get their package by the end of the routes this evening, there’s no hope for tomorrow morning. 

The call board on your phone is already lighting up like a Christmas tree, but you know those little embers to be fuelled by wrath, fury and unkept promises of delivery dates.   

You try your best to remain calm during the egregious conversations. Offering up tips and tricks to parents who are worried that this will be the year that their child gives up on Santa because your company failed to deliver. 

Your lunch break can’t come soon enough. But when you finally check your own phone it’s littered with texts from Namjoon. Messages of concern, apologies, and the hopes that he will still see you at the wrapping station tonight. He even sent a picture of your abandoned coat and promised to bring it along. 

Fuck, you had completely forgotten about you wrapping shift together. Just one more night, then you can put it all behind you again. If you can just keep your cover for a few more hours then it’ll all be over and Aunt Emma will have what she was promised. 

You send Namjoon a quick message confirming that you will be there, but not promising any more before you head back to your desk. 

The calls get progressively worse with several people using foul language and demanding to speak to your supervisor, you try to talk them down as best you can knowing any call passed on to the higher ups will reflect poorly on your efforts.

Until one woman calling in search of her package finally wears you down, insulting you, your profession, even your family.

“Ma’am I’m sorry but if you continue to speak to be in such a way I am well within my right to disconnect the call.” A desperate bluff, your superiors would rather them end the call than you, you’ve been penalized for it before, and you’ll be damned if it happens again. But unfortunately she calls your hand.

“You will not! I have spent hours on the line trying to reach anyone. The shortsightedness of your company and staff is all too apparent.” 

“It’s the holiday sea-”

 “I know what time of year it is, but it seems your staff doesn’t realize Christmas is tomorrow!” 

“You ordered your package past the guarantee date, we could not insure-”

“Now you listen to me, if there was any form of intelligence in that office you’d be working hard to ensure that all packages make it out before tomorrow morning, but instead you just sit on your ass fielding phone calls and giving excuses so you don’t have to actually go out and do honest labour. You must be the biggest disappointment to your family, not even having a proper job. How can you go home and face them knowing you've left so many without their gifts?”

With the woman's last insult, something inside you finally snaps, giving you the freedom to do what you’ve dreamed of for so long. “I don’t,” you pronounce, building up to take your final shot at both her and your employment. “Now if you’ll excuse me I’m going to let you go, as I’d rather not listen to your nonsensical bitching. So merry fucking Christmas to you ma’am, I suggest you go spend it with your own family if they’re willing to put up with your pompous ass.” You hang up the phone and pull off the headset, refusing to answer the next blinking light that comes on to replace it.

You just sit there looking at it denying the next caller their chance at verbal abuse, and your company's lax policy to protect you from it. The chatter of apologies continue to echo around you as your coworkers press on, but after the years of abuse you can no longer hold it in. Your company always said that this position was a stepping stone to greater things, that opportunities would come you just had to wait a little longer, but after being shackled by circumstances, and no forthcoming higher step to take, you refuse to press on any longer. 

...

You pull into the mall parking lot, far too early for your slot at the wrapping stand, with the contents of your desk now stationed in the trunk of your car. Taking refuge in the women's bathroom cleaning your face of the tears you shed on the way over as you try not to think too much about what you’ve just done. After refusing to concede and admit to any wrong doing you quit, telling them to shove their shitty policies right back where they came from.

Namjoon was right... and with the mall closing early tonight you’ll only have two hours with him, two hours to smooth the tension over and allow for an amicable goodbye while maintaining your cover. 

He’s already waiting for you, with your coat in hand, when you show up. The look of pity that you never wanted to see grace his face directed at you. “Are you okay?”

“Fine... I just would prefer if we didn’t talk about last night. I’m sorry for what I said, and now I just want to let it all go if that’s okay with you?” You smile up at him extending the olive branch.

Namjoon nods looking down at the floor as his hands habitually fold a scrap piece between his fingers. The silence between you is drowned out by the carols echoing down the emptying halls of the mall.

“Didn’t expect it to be so slow.” Namjoon mutters after what seems like an age with no one coming to the stand.

“On Christmas eve? Yeah generally people are home by now, spending time with their-” You force yourself to stop, unable to say a word which will bring sorrow to your heart and loneliness to Namjoon’s.  

 “I’m sorry I can’t do this,” Namjoon interjects. “I want to talk about last night, I need to talk about it.”

“Now is not the time.”

“There’s no one here but you and me. It’s just us, the mall is closing, it's our last shift, if not now when?”

“Anytime but now. The last twenty-four hours have been the worst in my life since-since...” You take a deep breath burying the wave of sadness and regret back down in your chest refusing to let it out. “Please, just forget it okay?”

“Not until you stop shielding yourself like that.” Namjoon scolds you. “I’m tired of you living in fear that your tears will erode your cover, and that your anger will tear it away entirely. I’m tired of you thinking that people will only appreciate you if you maintain this perfectly wrapped state. You might think it’s pretty, that it’s convenient for everyone else, but you are only keeping others out.” 

“Maybe I keep it on so that you won’t be disappointed in what you find when it’s discarded. A sad woman, with no direction, no dreams, unable to cope with loss, and I suppose I can add unemployed to the list now. Is that what you want to see? Is that what you want to find?”

“That’s not all you are... and as for your job, I’m sorry but fuck it. It’s about time you moved on to better things, that place was only holding you back, you deserve so much more.”

“No I don’t, do you want to know why I worked there? Do you? I took that job to make sure she got the care she needed. I promised her when she got better I would quit and find something else, but she never did. But if I leave now I’m accepting the fact that she’s gone... that she doesn’t need me anymore, because I couldn’t do enough to keep her here.” The first tear falls breaking through the long standing divide.

“Staying there wouldn’t have brought her back. Tormenting yourself by remaining frozen in place, won’t bring her back. It’s Christmas for god sake and you are being kind to everyone else but yourself.” 

“This isn’t Christmas for me. If it was, she would be here... not you. I’m tired too. I'm so tired of looking at her chair and- and-”

Namjoon wraps his arms around you pulling you forward as your emotions tear through the shroud. He moves you to the back of the vacant store sitting you among the boxes. “I’ll be right back okay?” You nod, while he tugs the table in and drags the gate down to indicate that you are now closed. When he returns his eyes too are starting to redden. His hands brush through your hair, the side of his palm pressing on your cheek and catching your tears. After seeing one of his own fall you crush yourself against his chest, clinging harder to him than before. His lips touch the top of your head, his hands rubbing on your back and arms as he waits, waits for you to be the first to pull away. The lights for every other store shut off around you the music lowers, all that’s left is the retreating chatter of those going to celebrate the eve of Christmas, and still you hold on to him. 

“I’m sorry I haven’t been a very good substitute.” He whispers, encouraging you to finally lean back and admit your denial, accepting his efforts to help, when you yourself wanted to do the same for him. 

“Don’t say that, it was never going to be a happy holiday for me, just something I needed to get past. But for you, I at least wanted to make yours better, I’m sorry I wasn’t a very good one either.”

“You never were a substitute. You were the one I wanted to spend the holidays with. A different Christmas than usual but no less enjoyable.” 

“That’s sweet of you to say.” You smile, but you doubt it’s true. “I suppose we should go...” 

“What about all the supplies?”

“Emma will come by in a few days to collect it all.” You grab the small donation from the lock box and seal it in the plastic pouch, while Namjoon rummages through his own bag. “Do you still want a ride home?”

“If you're offering, I would love one.” The flap of his satchel closes as he stops his search and instead goes with you to the bank and finally your car. You hadn’t checked the forecast for tonight so finding your car buried in a few inches of snow comes as an unexpected sight. At least with Namjoon’s help cleaning it off is a quick task.

Once inside you both warm your hands on the sputtering heater, changing them on the wheel as you continue to thaw your fingers while you drive. 

“Do you have any plans for the next couple of days?” Namjoon presses, though hesitant in his tone.

“Maybe look for some jobs, and take a good long nap?” You answer with a dark chuckle, still preferring to miss the entire holiday if you could. “You?”

“No, nothing in mind. But if you wake up and want to come over, you're more than welcome to spend it at my place.”

You return both hands to the wheel as the road becomes more difficult to drive on, your tires slipping here and there on the ice beneath the snow. “I’ll think about it, though depending on how much snow we get tonight we might both be stranded at home.”

You pull through the neighbourhood gates and up Namjoon’s driveway. With the car stopped he once again dives into his leather bag and pulls out a thin rectangular gift he looks to have wrapped himself. Dressed as per usual, with far to many pieces of tape, he hands it over to you. “I know this won’t make up for everything, but I want you to have this. Consider it a very belated Christmas gift.” 

“Belated? But Christmas isn’t until tomorr-” You take the present and succeed in pulling back the wrapping to reveal the book that you were reunited with just the night before. “Oh...” You look up from the cover to find the return of the sad smile on his face you saw in the museum. “But if this is late then, last Christmas, it-it was you? You were the one at the stand... with this?”

...

-One Year Ago-

You are counting down the hours and minutes until the mall closes, until you can pick your mother up from her doctor's appointment and head home, to your promised tradition of putting up the decorations. The past few weeks have been so busy, with work, volunteer shifts, and her treatments at the hospital, you’ve made it all the way to Christmas eve with the tree and ornaments still packed away in boxes, sitting in the corner of your living room since December first. 

Aunt Emma is currently taking your mother’s position at the cashbox, thanks to the scheduling of the last minute check up. You light up your phone again checking the time, only an hour left. 

“You can head out if you want my love,” Aunt Emma offers while swaying and humming to the carols. “It’s quiet enough for me to manage myself.”

You grin embarrassed by your desire for a hasty departure. “No it’s fine. I’m still waiting for the phone call to say she’s done, otherwise I’ll just end up waiting at the hospital.”  

“Suit yourself.” She stands up to look down the halls of the mall. “Oh, I think we might have someone, he’s heading this way. He’s cute too, you should give him your number and put that mother of yours at ease.”

“Aunt Emma, I don’t need your dating-” You look in the direction she was speaking of losing the rest of your words when you find a tall beaming man coming closer to your station.

“If you need me I’ll just be in the back fetching more ribbon.” 

“But we have plenty.”

“Doesn’t hurt to be prepared.” She waves herself off when he makes it to your table.

“Hi,” He greets you with the warmest smile and an even tone. “I was wondering if I could get these wrapped together?” He holds up a bag of gifts which he hands over to you.

“Of course. Any preference on paper?”

“Whatever you think is best, it’s for my mom. Just a bottle of her favourite perfume and something a little more special.”

You open the bag to find a small box containing the fragrance, and the other what looks to be a kids picture book. But what initially seems to be an odd choice for his mother, slams your chest with nostalgia when you see the cover and read the title.

“Koya’s Christmas.” You laugh with delight, you can’t stop yourself from smiling when you examine the artistry. The memories it brings back is enough to make your eyes well with tears.

“You know it?” The man asks, looking pleasantly stunned. 

“Know it? I had it memorized as a child. I loved it so much I couldn't bear it when it was packed away at the end of Christmas each year.”

“Me neither, I flat out refused to let it go, I read it year round to the point where our old copy is currently falling apart on the shelf. Even made snowflakes to put in my windows like he did.”

“That’s right, that scene was one of my favourites. May I?” You gesture asking him for permission to look through it. He nods just as excited as you by the concept of something so sentimental. As you flip through the book you recall the beautiful storyline of a koala living in Australia, one who is so upset that they must celebrate Christmas in the summer, never getting to have a while Christmas described in the songs and shown in the movies. But once Koya talks to the leaves in the trees, and the other small animals of the forest, the realization hits that none of them would be able to stay there if it was cold enough for snow. 

You are so close to tears when you reach the page where the little koala realizes it’s more important to have friends for the holiday than the frozen flurries. Proceeding to stay up all night cutting out perfect snowflakes to hang in the windows for all to enjoy at the family's Christmas Eve party. 

“Where did you find a copy? I’ve looked for so long, I lost my own in the move here.”

“I actually found it by chance, amongst a bunch of rare second-hand books at an auction.” The man itches at the back of his head. “Sorry, I can’t be of more help in locating another.” 

“No it’s fine. I’m just glad I got to see it again. I’ll have to tell my own mom that I was lucky enough to see a copy, she loved it as much as I did.” 

You quickly wrap the two gifts in the one sheet as requested. Handing it back to him before you can be tempted enough to make an excessive offer of your own on his mothers gift. 

“Thanks again.” He hands you two twenties for the donation. “My mom usually helps me with the wrapping but I didn’t want her to see this, you’ve made her Christmas.”

“I’m glad I could help.”

When he walks off you notice that he makes several glances back to you, holding a smile each time. 

“So did you get his number?” Aunt Emma pokes her head back out from the stock area. “Maybe his social media, his dick-dock or whatever it is you kids do these days?” 

“No, I did not get his tiktok.” You answer, unable to contain your laughter. “I was distracted by-” You’re ready to defend yourself when your phone starts vibrating on the table, the screen lit up with the number of your mother’s doctor’s office. You answer it, excited to share your account of the book. “Hey mom, you all finished? You’ll never believe what I just wrapped-”

“Sorry dear this is Laurie, I’m just calling on behalf of Dr. Wang’s office. We were hoping you could come by as soon as you can, the doctor would like to meet with both you and your mother before she leaves for the day.”

“Y-yeah, I’ll be right down.” You hang up the phone taking a deep swallow of fear, the moment of happiness and nostalgia vanishing with the prospect of the news to come. It’s never been a good sign when they’ve wanted to meet with you both in person. 

Aunt Emma catches on in an instant, pushing your coat on your shoulders and your purse in your hand. “Go, I’ve got this. You give your mother a big hug for me, and I’ll stop by soon to see you.”

...

While you try to relive, to pull back and hold on to, that moment from a year ago, Namjoon nods confirming your suspicions.

You mentally kick yourself for not recognizing him, for not remembering a single thing about him except your connection with the book. But after everything you had gone through, in that night alone, the devastating news regarding your mothers health had blacked out everything else. You took her home that night, trying not to cry, trying to be strong for her. Helping her into bed for some much needed rest, leaving your previous plans boxed up in the corner... where they remain to this very day. And the year only got worse leaving your mind engaged elsewhere, far from the man with the kind smile and similar taste in literature. “I’m sorry, I can’t believe I didn’t recognize you sooner.”

“No, it’s fine, it was a while ago, and I’m the one who should be sorry,” He whispers. “The moment I stepped outside that day, I realized you needed it more than my mother needed a second. I went back, but you were already gone. I was selfish though, rather than leaving it with another, I wanted to be the one to give it to you myself, I wanted to see you, to talk to you again, and so I kept it. I even put it in the exhibit on the chance that you might find it. When I met Emma at the museum and found out that you’d be doing the fundraiser again it seems like fate, but then I heard about what had happened since I saw you last. I realized how foolish I had been, how I had stolen your chance to share it with her before she passed.”

You reach up to your face attempting to wipe away the tears before Namjoon can see anymore, but he catches your hands before you can hide your grief.

“When you saw the book that day, you have no idea the impact it had on me. Watching you react, your emotions so close to the surface. You didn’t care where you were, what you were doing, all you could see was the memory in front of you. I wanted to create that for everyone.”

“Then the museum exhibit-”

“Was a result of my meeting you, my breakthrough idea which got me a chance to curate was thanks to your reaction. I was going to tell you when we were there, why you deserved to be there more than anyone else, but everything fell apart so quickly.” 

“I’m so sorry, I never intended to ruin your night. I just-” You take a deep breath, finally letting out the words you’ve been holding back. “I was scared. Jackson was one of my mother’s doctors, he was always friendly and kind to the point where my mother would joke that he would make the perfect son-in-law. We even went on a date, but when she passed... it was difficult, painful for me to see him again. Finding him there last night, I was so worried you would learn about what had happened, and that you would look at me with the same pity he did, so I ran.” 

“You didn’t ruin it, I deserved what you said for not being more open with you about what I knew. I was scared of losing you. So no more running, no more hiding okay?”

You give him a nod, unable to speak through the tears as you gasp between sobs. He hugs you across the cars divide. “Now will you please come inside? At least for a bit. It’s Christmas Eve and I can’t let you go home like this. I have the snowflakes up and everything but we both know it’s not enough without someone else to see them with.” 

You shake your head, now laughing despite the tears, “You really know how to reel me in.”

“I’m just admitting that I don’t want to be alone on Christmas,” He looks at you with a raised brow. “And I don’t think you want to be either.”

...

Namjoon’s house is the very opposite of your apartment, filled with warmth and light, wooden furniture and plants in every corner. The Christmas decorations bring another layer of himself into the fold. As promised, his window pains are full of snowflakes and the sills... you squint at several small blue lumps perched beside the glass. Moving closer you recognize them as clay koalas made by the skill and hands of a much younger age. Namjoon catches you staring at one position in a dozing state. He takes it off the ledge and hands it to you to give a better look. 

“Careful with that one though,” He points to another figure stationed in the corner. “It’s ears like to fall off.” He rolls the round bit of clay out of position chuckling as it exhibits the trait. 

“Did you make these?”

“When I was a kid. My mom held on to them.” Namjoon muses as he continues to fidget with the figurine. “She dropped off a box of decorations before going off to be with my sister and her family.”

“I’m glad she did.”

“Me too. But even with all the trimmings and decor here this year doesn’t feel quite normal.” He replaces them both in their rightful positions of honour and gestures to the massive couch behind you. “Make yourself comfortable,” he insists, before wandering off to the joint kitchen. “Is there anything I can get you to drink?” 

“I’ll have whatever you're having.” You take a seat on the monstrous cushions, which ease you in before swallowing you in comfort. Making it easy to see how this beast of a sofa has eaten several of his several earbuds. 

“Beer okay?”

“Perfect.”

He comes round with the drinks and takes a seat beside you. Turning on the television he lets it play with low volume in the background so you might continue your conversation if you wished, but at the same time eases the pressure from you if you’d rather not. 

You smile down at your beverage as the overly dramatic film plays out. Your mind still lingering on the damage that you might have caused with your hasty departure the night before.

“Have you talked to Jackson since, is he still going to loan the sketches?”

“He wants to, he sent me an email today saying so...” Namjoon pauses taking a sip of his drink, swirling the contents around in the can. “He asked if you were okay too. I haven’t responded yet, I wanted to talk to you first and get the full story, rather than speak on your behalf. But it’s clear he has feelings for you, if you told him how you felt, I’m sure you could still work things out if you wanted to.”

“No, I don’t think it’s feelings but his concern. He’s just too good of a person not to worry, and I’m sure his own guilt has a place in there too. Jackson and I never would have worked out, we went on that date, we didn’t have much in common, there was nothing there that I wanted to pursue, not like my time with you.”

Namjoon’s eyes perk open as he smiles. His arm reaches around, pulling you in to lean on his side and shoulder. As the strained plot plays out before you. 

“Why do you insist on watching these.” You ask as your eyes become heavy after a few minutes. Leaning into Namjoon more he lays back putting his feet up and sliding you down with him to do the same. Your head now resting on his chest the deepness of his voice carrying down to your ear. 

“They’re like the snowflakes-”

“A paper thin plot full of holes?”

“Funny and true, but not what I meant. I know they are by no means real, but they have this way of adding to the feeling of the season. I didn’t realize how much of a tradition it has become for me and my family until this year, when watching them alone just felt wrong. The movies were an excuse to sit down with them, to talk and laugh. The other night when I called, it wasn’t that I couldn’t sleep, I just wanted to spend the time with you.”

“But why me? You could have anyone, even Valerie seems to-”

“Why would I want anyone else when you helped me achieve something I’ve long dreamed of? You may think this cheesy but at the end of all these films, when everything comes together wrapped in a perfect bow, that’s how I’ve felt in every moment with you.”

“You’re right, very cheesy, but not unwanted.” You look up at him from his chest finding only sincerity in his face. “Now if we’re to continue in this similar Hallmark course of action, I do believe this would be the part where you kiss me again.”

“But I’m just the clumsy lead,” Namjoon jokes. “I’m pretty sure that’s your-” You lean in doing just that, cutting him off and pushing him against the couch as you kiss him. His chest quaking with silent laughter soon turns to rumbling groans as you fulfil the expectation of your role. “Though this would also be the part where I tell you we should wait before giving into temptation.”

Your nose scrunches up in displeasure over the notion of such abstinence. “Then let's omit that line, and go off script for the rest of the night.”

Namjoon takes his turn, flipping you over to push you down onto the plush cushions, where you sink under his weight. “Gladly,” he growls, his mouth trailing down your neck pulling on the collar of your sweater to seek further in. 

Desiring the same you discard your own knit garment, before moving on to unfasten the buttons of his shirt, pushing it back until he is forced to tear his hands from the sleeves himself and whip it down to the ground. 

Sliding between your thighs he wraps your legs around his back and picks you up off the couch. With an arm wrapped around your waist, he continues to kiss you while you squeal from being lifted into the air. 

“Bedroom?” You ask, excited by the possible prospect.

He nods, looking up at you with a smirk. “If that’s okay? I’d rather not risk losing you to the couch too.”

You giggle at the notion, while Namjoon heaves you up again to get a better grasp, his mouth tucking into your chest. He fumbles for the door now behind you looking as though he might break it open if the knob won’t turn to his grappling grip. You reach back to assist and push it open. The cool air of the room hits you, causing you to cling to Namjoon’s warmth. 

With two more steps you’re lowered onto the bed, where he grips the waist of your pants, unbuttoning and tearing them down your legs. Laying on the edge of the mattress, you watch as Namjoon kneels down between your legs. His hands glide up your bare legs and pause at the tops of your thighs massaging them as he asks to go further. “May I?”

You take his fingers and press them down on the dampening fabric. Namjoon groans and dips the tip of his index below the material peeking inside to find the warmth of your cunt. It’s a pity it’s so dark in the room, you would have liked to see his smile. 

But it seems you're not alone in this desire, as Namjoon gets up and reaches over flicking on the lamp beside his bed. “No more hiding, I want to see you, all of you.” 

“I want that too. I want you.” 

He smiles kissing you with both hands before rolling over and pulling you on top of him. You return the favour by taking off his pants and boxer briefs releasing his erection. Running your fingers down the soft skin of his shaft, curling them around the base. Tilting his cock towards your mouth you take the tip, teasing your tongue on the rim of the head. Namjoon groans in delight, thrusting his hips up, you take it again as far as you can manage, enjoying his reactions to your tongue trails downward, tracing the swelling veins of his dick. With another drag of his cock you release him with the pop of your lips and he reaches down to grip your arms, breathing heavily with closed eyes.

“I thought you said you wanted to see me?” You chuckle at his undoing.

“I do, but I also want to last.” 

“Condoms?” You ask, continuing to stroke his cock while you adjust to straddle his thighs.

“In there.” He mutters, pointing to his bedside table breathless and helpless to your touch. Only looking up when you have to free him to reach for the box and unwrap its contents. His own hands help you to roll it down his shaft. 

You guide yourself down on his cock while Namjoon arches against his pillow and mattress. His fingers tracing up your stomach and ribs. You reach back to unclasp your bra just as he reaches your chest, and lean down into his touch. 

With his firm grip you rock your hips clenching on his dick and grinding your clit on his pelvis. The louder he gets the faster you move, trembling as you chase your own high and pivoting down further. When Namjoon’s hands grip your hips pressing you into him the pressure becomes far too great pushing you over the edge, sending waves of pleasure through you until you collapse on his chest. He holds you in place as he thrusts from beneath, gasping as your climax continues, coaxing you to clench down on him, straining his thrusts until he comes. 

Dotting the side of your face and neck with his lips at a soft and slow pace, he succeeds in forging another smile in your still gasping lips. He tilts you off and beside him in your blissful haze so he may dispose of the filled barrier. When returning to your grasp you cling to him and he you, dragging the covers up and over the both of you.  

“I could get used to this.” You whisper, curling into his warmth. No longer afraid of the emotions that the holiday will bring. Glowing over the prospect of not facing Christmas morning alone, but wrapped together with Namjoon in the sheets of his bed. “Maybe even consider it a new tradition?” You joke with him looking up to witness his smile.

“If that’s a tradition...” Namjoon whispers, coming in for another kiss. “I plan on celebrating Christmas everyday for the foreseeable future.”

[prvtocol]

@mindsmade​ asked: ∅ if you're still taking these, you know for whom 👀 | Send ∅ for my muse's opinion about yours. (accepting)

“Mercs, as corpos might say, are two a penny. I’d put solos in that lot as well though they often have a bit more lines on their resume to stand on. And I’d be remiss to not acknowledge a few are worth their salt. But it goes without saying that there’s a reason many prefer working through fixers. A middle person provides some necessary distancing from the streets, a clean exchange of eddies, and obligations to honor a contract. 

I’ve played games on fixers before, even brought one down in Hamburg, but turning an unknown and untested merc against one is new on my list. Probably because it’s not fail safe. The one I lured with enough eddies to pull a fast one on his fixer and disappoint a client should have been all but an affable fellow. V., and yes, I do wonder what that’s short for, came as a bit of a surprise for many reasons. Rare it is to find a man who can keep up with my banter and do so with making me crack a smile rather than a frown along the way. Friendly is not a term I’ve given to many in Night City. And I mean friendly in the way I take as genuine to his character. He seems right keen to diffuse tension and do so with care. 

Now that we are embroiled in this mess I started, I shouldn’t trust that he won’t cut a deal the other way. Though I hope he’ll do his job to hopefully salvage both our necks. And if he asks for a bit more than what was put up front at the end, so be it. He is smart like that, and a nomad after all.”

[ehavuzcum]

A Guide To Swimming Pool Equipment

Putting resources into a pool whether it is an over the ground or in-ground of whatever size and shape is just the fundamental idea. Introducing the fundamental pool gear and having total supplies along with imperative pool adornments structure part of your speculation havuz kimyasalları. As a pool proprietor, it is your obligation to deal with your pool so it is consistently ok for you, your friends and family, family members and companions to have a great time and appreciate. All out security ought to be the need objective in keeping a pool.

 One significant pool gear is your siphon gathering. Its capacity is to keep your pool's water flow all together. Siphoning in new and new water and siphoning out messy water is its day by day work. In choosing an energy-effective pool siphon, numerous specialists propose picking those multi-speed siphons with programmed control frameworks. This sort of pool gear can make you qualified for awards, tax reductions or refunds. Check the siphon's HP rating and engine productivity and discover what is the best energy proficient sort for your utilization. Lower HP engine and legitimate running of 3-4 hours of siphoning activity rather than 5-6 hours mean lower energy utilization.

 Another significant hardware is your filtration framework. Your pool can have a sand, cartridge or diatomaceous earth (DE) sort of channel. On the off chance that you need low support, you can go with a very good quality cartridge channel which can channel tiny particles. A little DE powder can be added to the skimmer to make your pool water shimmer. Your channels and siphons are vital pool supplies in light of the fact that their capacity is security. They flow, disinfect and clean your pool water.

 For a long time, pool cleaning is done physically. These days, you have the programmed pool cleaners made by top makers for your in-ground or over the ground pools. These are important pool hardware supplies. You can settle on a programmed pressure-side, a pull type or a mechanical more clean. Cleaners deal with the trash, huge and little from your pool. These advanced types of gear can save you long periods of tidy up when contrasted with manual cleaning.

 Pool radiators are additionally in vogue types of gear for some pool proprietors not just for individuals living in cool environments. They are famous to boost swimming happiness in any event, during slow time of year. Sun oriented pool radiators are turning out to be sought after these days. Others pick energy saver types like the gaseous petrol or propane radiators while others actually go for the electric kind. Whatever radiator you introduce, its goal is to save the water at the correct temperature for your family to appreciate swimming in any event, during cold days and evening’s.

 One fundamental and defensive gear is the pool cover. Winter pool covers can shield your pool from the cruel environment impacts achieved by solid breezes. Huge flotsam and jetsam, leaves, twigs, branches can discover their way to a revealed pool. Covers not just shield your pool from trash. They can likewise forestall any suffocating mishaps. There are sun oriented covers and various kinds of cross section texture, vinyl, and strong covers. These materials are sensibly evaluated.

 Present day salvage supplies ought to likewise be a piece of your pool hardware stock. Things, for example, salvage tubes, emergency treatment packs, spine sheets, CPR veils, head immobilizers and ring floats are crucial devices important in the event of any superfluous occurrences or mishaps most extraordinarily when there are youngsters and old around.

 What about pool lights? For some pool proprietors, these pool lights are considered as standard pool supplies to expand the swimming happiness. Late evening swimming will be hazardous if there are no lights. Swimmers won't see the pool's dividers and water level. There are numerous kinds of pool lights accessible on the lookout.

 You can pick sun powered pool lighting, fiber-optic or the most progressive lighting framework today which are the LED lights. Beside the abovementioned, a portion of the other pool types of gear, supplies and accomplices to secure are salt chlorine generators, gliding chlorinators, brominators, pool skimmers, pool alerts, substance feeders, steps and stepping stools, vacuum hoses, and so on

 There are legitimate online stockroom merchants offering pool hardware from top brands like Kreepy Krauly, Hayward, Polaris, Aquabot, Baracuda, Sta-Rite, Fafco, Raypak, Pentair, Zodiac, and numerous others. Most pool types of gear have positive client audits. Plan your planning, work out a financial plan for your ideal types of gear and invest energy to do virtual online window shopping looking at costs and unique offers. In your selection of items, ensure that your need is security before excellence and relaxation.

[verifiablebot]

alright guys i am stumped by these issues i’ve been having with my tanning lately.  the last few batches have all had this issue, and i’m kinda losing my mind.

i keep getting pelts with these really weird hard/stiff spots that i can’t sand out.

to the right of my thumb there you can kinda see a patch of it.  it’s very hard/stuff and a bit yellow in colour.  it sort of looks like a spot where it was not fleshed well or degreased properly, but these pelts are all properly fleshed and degreased for more than an hour before neutralization/tanning.

this is one of those rough spots on another pelt that has been quickly sanded.  it doesn’t help much at all with the stiffness.

i rehydrated the stiff spots of the above pelt and they look like this - you can clearly see the stiff areas vs the normal areas, though after rehydration they are pliable again.  i’m currently trying to slowly dry this pelt and stretch/sand before it’s 100% dry to see if it helps so i can salvage some of the worse pelts in this batch.

i don’t know what’s going on.  at first i thought it was a formulation issue, since my scale had broken and i was eyeballing my salt for a while.  or maybe that i was degreasing too long, because sometimes i’d forget pelts in the degrease for several hours, and maybe i wasn’t re-oiling enough to put hydration back in the skin.  however this batch in particular i got a new salt scale and set timers for my degrease and draining steps to make sure i wasn’t going over at all, and they still turned out weird.

my only other theory is they are drying too fast?  my office is heated year-round so the air in here stays fairly dry.  i try to only bring them in here while i’m able to keep and eye on them and stretch them regularly, but i keep forgetting them in here overnight.  i kept this batch in another room to dry up until they were almost 100% done, then i brought them into my office to finish drying.  one of the pelts was looking iffy through the whole drying process, feeling weirdly stiff and not stretching normally so i’m not sure if the dry air was the real culprit.  but i am out of theories at this point.

i need to work on my backlog but i need to get this figured out first.  i can’t be giving clients skins that look like this.  has anyone experienced anything similar before?  suggestions for how to fix it/avoid it in the future?  it’s really driving me up the wall because it just started happening at random after dozens of perfect batches.

pls help :(

[futuresself]

President Nazz Kurth is leading the climbing monster into new businesses

Established by cavern pilgrim Fernand Petzl during the 1970s, Petzl is perhaps the greatest name in verticality. At the point when the French organization searched for an area for its U.S. central command, it picked Utah.

"We picked Utah explicitly for the bountiful regular magnificence that is here. It has astounding normal precipices, gorge, where our clients reproduce as well as where our workers need to," says Kurth. He includes that Utah has a decent business atmosphere.

With an inventory crossing rock climbing, sport climbing, mountaineering, giving in, and canyoneering instruments, Petzl supplies a few recreational business sectors. The more extensive industry is seeing changes, as indicated by Kurth. On the sport side. "I think one thing that is driving climbing is that loads of individuals are acquainted with climbing through rec centers. There are significantly more rock climbing rec centers than there used to be."

New advances are coming into the market. This is apparent in Petzl's Tikka headlamps, which is receptive to the encompassing lighting conditions. "It naturally diminishes down and changes the pillars and yield of separation relying upon what you need," Kurth says.

Kurth says the organization claims a few processing plants in France and furthermore works in different nations. "We have producing in Malaysia, however like any worldwide organization we have heaps of temporary workers everywhere on the world."

North America is a significant aspect of Petzl's business, yet Kurth says the organization sells into around 55 nations on the whole. "Petzl America is a completely claimed auxiliary that covers the U.S. also, Canada, portions of Latin America and a few different nations," he says.

Kurth has the independence to run Petzl in the Americas as he picks. "Paul Petzl is clear about that and it's incredible," he says. He perceives that the U.S and Canada are not equivalent to Europe. We do things another way and he gives me and the group here opportunity to do that."

Petzl built up its U.S. central command in Clearfield, Utah, in 1999 yet acknowledged it required more space and decided to purchase land and fabricate the new base camp in Salt Lake City. "It had all the properties we needed," says Kurth, refering to simple admittance to both UTA Trax and the interstates for transportation and driving. "Everything met up here. We're a little ways from the air terminal, a short ways from downtown - it's a really incredible area."

The LEED Platinum-guaranteed U.S. central command was finished in 2014. The cutting edge, 82,000-square-foot office, incorporates a 40,000 square feet of office and coordinated effort space, 34,000 square feet of completely computerized stockroom space, and a 8,000-square-foot specialized preparing organization, including a 55-foot climbing divider.

"The climbing divider has two sections," Kurth says. "On one side it's an express the-craftsmanship rivalry, overhanging divider. The other is substantially more of a preparation stage. We're ready to perform courses that show saves just as trainings."

The climbing divider is symbolic of Petzl's way to deal with verticality. While likely most popular for its recreational rigging, the organization has a solid promise to the expert side of verticality. This incorporates making gear for arborists, search and salvage staff, firemen, and strategic businesses.

"In 2005, there was a glimmer over occasion in New York City in the Bronx," Kurth clarifies. Firemen were caught on the fourth floor of an apartment and needed to leap out the window; some kicked the bucket, others supported enormous wounds.

"The lead representative and chairman said in one year they needed an individual departure gadget for each New York city fireman," says Kurth. "In one year we came out with the EXO." It comprises of a snare, a rope and a descender gadget, permitting firemen to escape from a structure when there are no different choices.

The in-house preparing office has a two-story EXO Tower, which has windows, channeling, sewer vents, and different highlights to reenact firefighting and salvage activities utilizing Petzl equipment.

Difficulties: "There's consistently the test to ensure we have the correct item and the perfect sum and conveying it at the perfect time," Kurth says.

Openings: "Sport climbing is truly developing and we're proceeding to ensure we're on the leading edge," he includes. "We have to associate with those people who are simply being presented to climbing. On the expert side, there's loads of use for our items. We have incredible associations with fire and search and salvage groups,."

Needs: "Everyone needs and needs more deals," Kurth says. "Having people perceive that climbing or working at tallness is intrinsically perilous and being aware of that."

[tilecleaningtoday]

How to Clean Victorian Tiles Without Using Much Water

The restoration of this Victorian Tiled hallway floor at a property in Glasgow’s West End proved to be quite a challenge. It had seen a long life and over that time it had numerous so called repair work carried out on it which basically resulted in bits of problematic floor being ripped out and back filled with concrete.

The current owner fully appreciated the value a fully restored period feature like an original tiled floor can add to a property so we were asked to pop round and provide a quote. Having restored numerous floors in the area I was happy to take on the job and provide a quote for the work. With the quote accepted and a date agreed I set about sourcing replacement tiles to match the existing.

Repairing a Victorian Tiled Hallway Floor

The first job was to lift all the tiles that were damaged or loose and move them to one side. This was followed by carefully knocking out all the areas of concrete back fill and screed from the original repairs. With the rubble cleared those areas were then levelled off with a mixture of cement board and self-levelling compound until the floor was level with the base of the original tiles.

While the repairs to the subfloor were setting the focus work moved on to salvaging as many of the original tiles as possible by grinding down the sides and backs to remove the old adhesive and cement. Once the tiles were cleaned and the sub floor had dried it was time to lay the tiles to match the original pattern. Many of the original tiles were unusable so a mixture of original and new reproduction Victorian tiles were used. Most of the tiles had to be hand cut down to size to fit.

The floor was then left to set and then re-grouted before moving on to the next step of restorative cleaning and sealing.

Restorative Cleaning and Sealing of an Original Victorian Hallway Floor

Old Victorian floors like this one do not have a damp proof membrane are as such are very susceptible to Efflorescent salt issues, so because of this I opted to go with a low moisture cleaning method.

This involved cleaned the tiles using a Tile Doctor Acid Gel which was worked in initially with a 100-grit diamond pad and then a 200-grit diamond pads fitted to a weighted rotary bonnet machine. This was carried out several times with all the slurry extracted using a wet vacuum. The advantages of Acid Gel is that an acidic cleaner will neutralise and alkaline salt, being a gel its very easy to control and finally its good at removing grout smears left over from tiling.

After a final inspection the floor was left to dry out overnight with the help of a fan to assist the drying before we could return to seal the tiles.

Sealing a Victorian Tiled Hallway Floor

I returned the following day to seal the floor checking first that it had dried using a damp meter. Once I was satisfied, three coats of Tile Doctor Colour Grow were applied to the tiles to enhance their appearance and protect then going forward.

I chose Colour Grow mainly because it’s a fully breathable sealer that will allow moisture to rise through the tile and evaporate at the surface. Use of a non-breathable sealer can lead to moisture becoming trapped under the floor where it could spread into the walls leading to rising damp.

The hallway was completely transformed by the time we had finished and as you can imagine our client was more than happy. So much so they even recommended us for another job and went to the extent of inviting them round to view the work.

Source: Victorian Tile Restoration Contractor in Glasgow

[crazytaleobservation]

Hydrogen Energy Storage Market - Analysis Report Deployment Type and Business Opportunities

Market Overview

The need for energy conservation is estimated to guide the hydrogen energy storage market 2020. The power generation, transmission, and distribution industry reports are produced by Market Research Future, which highlights market options for expansion. An 8.50% CAGR is estimated to improve the market in the approaching period.

The drop in consumption of standard petroleum fuels is projected to lead to the transformation of the hydrogen energy storage market in the coming years. The climb in demand fuel for fuel cell vehicles (FCEVs) is further anticipated to boost the production levels in the hydrogen energy storage market. The escalated inflow in investments in the hydrogen energy storage market is likely to benefit the long term expansion of the hydrogen energy storage market share.

Request access sample report @ https://www.marketresearchfuture.com/sample_request/7216

Segmental Analysis

The segmental study of the hydrogen energy storage market has been conducted based on end-user, technology, and region. Based on the technology, the hydrogen energy storage market has been segmented into metal hydrides, liquid hydrogen, underground salt caverns, and carbon absorption. On the basis of end-users, the hydrogen energy storage market is segmented into transportation, chemicals, power generation, metal working, and others. Based on the regions, the hydrogen energy storage market is segmented into Europe, the Asia Pacific, North America, and other global regions.

Detailed Regional Analysis 

The regional review of the hydrogen energy storage market is segmented into Europe, the Asia Pacific, North America, and other global regions. The hydrogen energy storage market globally is anticipated to observe a noteworthy expansion at some stage in the forecast period owing to an assortment of factors that are influencing the hydrogen energy storage market. These factors consist of a decrease in carbon emissions, a drop in consumption of usual petroleum fuels, mounting demand for dependable power. The intensifying power supply security concerns, together with the focus towards cutting reliance on foreign oil reserves in the U.S. and China, will compel the worldwide hydrogen storage market. In China, the waning oil prices have led local crude oil producers to reduce their investments and manufacture, leading to augmented imports, growing the need for efficient alternative sources. Furthermore, the U.S. and U.K. and India have been progressively more focusing on R&D activities that would assist in technical advancements in hydrogen and fuel cell technologies. This has ensured the advance of sufficient hydrogen storage for material-handling equipment, light-duty vehicles, and transportable power applications that would facilitate in fulfilling the targets set by the U.S. Department of Energy. 

Competitive Analysis

The instability in the forces of demand and supply is estimated to create a beneficial impact on the overall global market in the forecast period. The financial assistance provided by the government around the world and trade bodies is estimated to salvage the situation in the coming years. The downturn effects visible in the market are estimated to stay a little longer due to the scale of impact on the global market. The need for prudent analysis of the market trends and demand projections is estimated to lead to formidable development in the market. The restoration and everyday operations are estimated to take some time, which will lead to intensive development of backlog in delivery. The constraints of growth are expected to be significant and considerable support will be needed to transform the market effectively. The need to build sustainability into the core assets of the companies will help companies’ battle situations like the current pandemic more effectively.

The strategic players of the Hydrogen Energy Storage market are VRV S.P.A, Hbank Technologies Inc., Praxair Inc, Inoxcva, Mcphy Energy S.A, Luxfer Holdings PLC, VRV S.P.A, Worthington Industries Inc., Linde AG., and Air Liquide, among others.

 Browse Full Report Details @ https://www.marketresearchfuture.com/reports/hydrogen-energy-storage-market-7216

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Our rapidly expanding market research company is assisted by a competent team of research analysts who provide useful analytics and data on technological and economic developments. Our deemed analysts make industrial visits and collect valuable information from influential market players. Our main goal is to keep our clients informed of new opportunities and challenges in various markets. We offer step-by-step assistance to our valued clients through strategic and consulting services to reach managerial and actionable decisions.

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[jinjikook]

would you like a happy ending? (m)

🎃 word count: 2.2k

🎃 genre: smut ; idol-verse

🎃 pairing: reader/hoshi

🎃 warning(s)/kink(s): hand jobs, massaging, use of lotion/oil/lube, nipple play

🎃 summary: an idol’s job is not an easy one and it really takes a toll on their bodies. luckily, there’s people like yourself that work solely to ease their bodies of all that tension, and soonyoung really appreciates what you do

🎃 requested by: anon - “Kinktober request where you're a masseuse/physical therapist and hot dancer Hoshi comes in for some treatment and you notice that he's reeeaaalllyyy enjoying what your doing with your hands”

🎃 music: wanderlust - the weeknd

🎃 masterlist + kinktober 2017

gif credit

“Okay Y/N, so after Seongwoo, you have one last appointment. It’s for a full back massage, apparently they’ve been under a lot of stress and strain lately.”

“Of course they have, they’re idols. You couldn’t pay me to go through what they do on the daily and still walk straight on my feet.” You shooed away the receptionist that works the front of the massage parlor you so ‘luckily’ worked at.

The next customer came in, complaining about central pain around the base of their spine and you got to work, making sure to go lightly on the oils per the man’s request.

The idols you worked on had very specific needs and tastes, going to people like you in search for relief from all the strenuous pressure they constantly put their bodies through. In a way, you were a savior for them and their achy selves.

“Alright Ong-sshi, we’re all done here, please try to refrain from trying a move like that again.” The inky-haired boy nodded and thanked you before bowing out to retire to the steam room for the final hour he’d be here. You began to clean up your room, wiping down the massage table and replacing all the oils and creams you’d taken out to use.

Time went by relatively quickly, you sort of got lost in your own world when you got into humming and organizing. It was when you were color coding the bags of Epsom salts in a cabinet that a soft knock sounded on your door. You told them to come in out of habit, not looking up from where you were knelt down until a person cleared their throat.

“Hello? I’m here for the physical therapy?” A soft voice spoke.

“Ah, yes,” You tutted, standing up straight and brushing the excess salts that had transferred onto your clothes before bowing in greeting to the blond man standing at your door. “Soonyoung-sshi, you’re my last appointment for the day. Please, disrobe as you see fit and lay down onto the table, face down.” The boy nodded and began to let the robe fall from his shoulders, revealing planes of neatly toned muscles, skin smooth and bright.

He hummed as he got comfortable, letting the robe stay around his waist to conceal his more intimate areas as you washed your hands in the small, porcelain sink in the corner and dried them carefully.

“Are there any scents you’d prefer, maybe ones I should avoid? Any allergies?”

Soonyoung thought for a moment, pondering which he’d like before answering.

“I don’t really have a preference, though I do like the vanilla scented things. I like light scents like that,” You nodded and reached for the vanilla scented oil and a small bottle of lavender lotion, knowing it’d compliment the other well and still be a light enough smell to please Soonyoung.

As you approached, you surveyed where you’d be laying your hands. His back was smooth, almost fragile looking. He was built more compact than the last idol you’d serviced, so the comparison was probably most likely due to that recent aspect. You knew he had been particularly in pain around his lower back, mentioning about the most recent promotions for their music having taken a toll on his spine.

“Ah, careful please,” Soonyoung lightly asked as you began to knead the sore muscles of his back, treading a little softer at his words of caution. He seemed pleased with the pressure, and you followed up with a few questions to make sure it was all to his liking.

“Is the oil warm enough?”

He hummed.

“The pressure okay?”

“Fantastic.”

“Feeling comfortable?”

He nodded as best he could with his head on his crossed arms, eyes trying to scan what he could see of the room.

Soonyoung was a little too preoccupied with his wandering eyes that he hadn’t felt you traipse along a really sensitive part of his back, right where it dipped down above his ass. He hissed as you dug your thumbs there and his hips jumped, first up and then back down to try and shy away from your hands.

“I’m sorry! Was that painful, Soonyoung-sshi?” He shook his head, trying to explain the sensitivity but that it was okay to continue, that he’d grow used to it. With tentative fingers, you returned to massaging him in earnest, feeling his skin dip with the harder you pressed.

He released a guttural groan, feeling his tense back ease up and you weren’t unfamiliar with sounds like these; sometimes it felt like a miracle to have your body put in such a relaxed state that you just had to vocalize it. Like when you have a bite of the most scrumptious dessert and you have to moan at the flavor hitting your taste buds.

You let yourself get lost in your work, Soonyoung clearly feeling comfortable with your ministrations at this point. He continued to make noises of pleasure as you drifted from his lower back and cracked the knuckles of his spine, roving up to paw at his shoulders and loosen the tightly wound knots there.

“So tense—when was the last time you got taken care of, Soonyoung-sshi?”

“I have no idea, but I will never go this long again. I’ll make you my regular masseuse, Miss…?”

“Y/N, no need for the formalities. I’ve never cared much for them anyways. But I’ll gladly continue to help you Soonyoung-sshi, it’s always best to have the same person since they’ll learn about your body and your activities well enough to always give you what you need.”

You had no idea that that would entail more than just a simple back massage.

It had been about half an hour, Soonyoung already putty on your table as he almost dozed off from the gentle application of lotion onto his back. You pulled away, ready to nudge him awake to move on from his appointment but Soonyoung rose on his own, clearly not as asleep as you pegged him to be initially.

You turned away to wash your hands of the excess lotion that slicked your palms but Soonyoung laid back down onto your table face up, robe hanging haphazardly off his body and revealing one of his sharp hipbones. He groaned and let his head loll back, hand coming up to ruffle his light locks as you actually got sight of the affected area.

It wasn’t unheard of for someone to get aroused while on your table; in fact it was fairly common. For men, it was obviously pretty difficult to conceal such feelings but as a professional, you’re supposed to wave it off and allow them the decency to cover themselves.

“Y/N? I’m still feeling particularly wound up, any chance you could help me some more?” You gulped at his words, trying to keep from thinking lewd thoughts as you asked what more you could do to help him. “Well, for starters, I wouldn’t mind a good rub down on my front. You know, to even it out?”

Of course he just wanted to be pampered a little more, something that you’re sure he doesn’t get often coming from a company that doesn’t exactly live in the lap of luxury. You nodded and let him adjust his body until he found a position he was most comfortable in, pouring the oil onto his chest and trying to ignore how you’d gone against the usual protocol of warming it up in your hands to instead drizzle it onto the pebbled peaks of his nipples.

He hissed and arched his back, much like when you’d touched the sensitive bit of his back. But he didn’t protest this time, biting his lip and letting you watch the dribbles slowly slip down like honeyed sap on the trunk of a tree.

Shaking yourself out of whatever unprofessional stupor you got into, you began to smooth your hands over the planes of his chest, pointedly ignoring his pectorals for your own sanity.

“Y/N, I’d like my whole chest massaged, if that’s not too much trouble.” Soonyoung asked with his eyes shut tight and head pressed back into the massage table. You gulped audibly at what he’d asked and in your brain you yelled at yourself to get a grip and to remember that this was a client and customer that entrusted you to help him, not use him for your own personal horny affairs.

With a sigh, you flattened your palms and braced forward to stroke up and down, not missing where he’d requested for fear of being confronted again. He sighed happily and his body eased down, until your thumbs grazed the exposed wire that was his nipples, causing him to jerk steadily and chew on his lower lip.

“Soonyoung-sshi, are you alright? You look like you’re in pain.” You tried to fight the waver in your voice, instincts telling you to make sure your customer was okay before assuming the worst.

“Tell me Y/N, how much would it cost to have a full body massage?” He pointedly ignored your question, avoiding it with the aid of his own follow up.

“Well, if you wanted your legs, feet, arms, hands and head massaged, it’d cost—”

“You’re seeming to miss a key component of my body,” He lifted his head to meet you with dark, half-lidded eyes. Was it hot in here? You felt the room kick up several notches higher and you tugged on the uniform you had on to try and salvage whatever cool air remained in the nooks and crannies of the room. His eyes trailed down to his very prominent issue barely hidden underneath the powder blue robe the facility supplied customers with.

“Oh, Soonyoung-sshi, we d-don’t—”

“It may not be on the menu, but I’m asking you Y/N, since you so kindly offered to help me.”

You could lose your job! This was unethical—completely and utterly wrong.

And yet, you couldn’t stop your hands if you tried, slowly pulling the robe off to reveal Soonyoung’s aching arousal beading at the tip. The feeling of the robe dragging off the head of his cock made the man moan, throwing his head back as you finally gave into sweet temptation.

The bottle of lavender lotion was in your grip as you generously coated your hand in the cream before growing bold and replaying what you had done earlier with his nipples, dribbling the lotion over the head of his cock. It jumped with the fluid, blood thrumming in it at full force.

With a firm hand, you gripped him tight and began to give him languid pumps. The feeling of your slick hand had Soonyoung writhing, probably not having felt a hand other than his own in a long time. He tried to keep quiet but the feeling of your lithe fingers on his cock was already driving him crazy.

Soonyoung let his own hands trail up to tweak and tease his nipples, enjoying the sensitive nubs being played with while you continued to stroke him. The lotion made the sound from your hand painfully audible, wet squelches with every smooth glide as you continued to jerk him off and drag him closer to the edge.

He whimpered and panted as he got closer to his release, trying to warn you but your hand hadn’t stopped or slowed down. The pace only got quicker, Soonyoung’s hips jerking and jumping with your hand as he tried to fuck the wet, tight fist you formed around him.

“I-I’m close, I—ah, ah—I’m gonna come!” He keened, fingers tightening on the bed underneath him as he released streaks of come over his abdomen, continuously pumping his hips until they slowed to a dragging circle, milking himself until come began to drip down your fist. The head of his cock was almost purple in your grip, shiny with come and you definitely knew it was very unprofessional to clean the mess he’d made with your tongue so you settled for a warmed towel from the heated box on the counter.

It was quiet, as Soonyoung redid his robe and you washed your hands. Clinical even, as much as it’d pained you to admit.

It was he who spoke up first, breaking the ice as he approached you.

“Thank you, Y/N. I know I asked for a lot, and I appreciate you helping me. As an idol,” He chuckled, shaking his head and awkwardly rubbing the back of his neck, “We don’t really get any sort of relief, let alone of this kind. It was… wow, it was so good I can’t even think straight.” He laughed breathlessly and you smiled, hearing the sincerity in his words.

“If I haven’t scared you off yet, I’d really love to make you my regular masseuse.”

“Of course, what other masseuse would jerk you off?” You giggled and his impression of a deer caught in the headlights was even more adorable, making you giggle more.

“N-Not just because of that!” He shook his head before recomposing himself. “You were really good at the actual massage and I think you’re right, about that whole ‘keeping the same person’ thing. Really, I’d love to have you even if that,” He gestures crudely, “never happens again.”

With a beaming grin, you turn to Soonyoung and bow politely.

“Well, I look forward to our next appointment then, Soonyoung-sshi. I’m sure we can find ways to keep these sessions… interesting.”

With that, Soonyoung smiled and left with the same grand grin plastered across his face, leaving you with a cheesy wink and a promise to return soon.

[yash-tiknayat]

Hydrogen Energy Storage Market Research Report – Global Forecast till 2023

Market Overview

The need for energy conservation is estimated to guide the hydrogen energy storage market 2020. The power generation, transmission, and distribution industry reports are produced by Market Research Future, which highlights market options for expansion. An 8.50% CAGR is estimated to improve the market in the approaching period.

The drop in consumption of standard petroleum fuels is projected to lead to the transformation of the hydrogen energy storage market in the coming years. The climb in demand fuel for fuel cell vehicles (FCEVs) is further anticipated to boost the production levels in the hydrogen energy storage market. The escalated inflow in investments in the hydrogen energy storage market is likely to benefit the long term expansion of the hydrogen energy storage market share.

Segmental Analysis

The segmental study of the hydrogen energy storage market has been conducted based on end-user, technology, and region. Based on the technology, the hydrogen energy storage market has been segmented into metal hydrides, liquid hydrogen, underground salt caverns, and carbon absorption. On the basis of end-users, the hydrogen energy storage market is segmented into transportation, chemicals, power generation, metal working, and others. Based on the regions, the hydrogen energy storage market is segmented into Europe, the Asia Pacific, North America, and other global regions.

Detailed Regional Analysis

The regional review of the hydrogen energy storage market is segmented into Europe, the Asia Pacific, North America, and other global regions. The hydrogen energy storage market globally is anticipated to observe a noteworthy expansion at some stage in the forecast period owing to an assortment of factors that are influencing the hydrogen energy storage market. These factors consist of a decrease in carbon emissions, a drop in consumption of usual petroleum fuels, mounting demand for dependable power. The intensifying power supply security concerns, together with the focus towards cutting reliance on foreign oil reserves in the U.S. and China, will compel the worldwide hydrogen storage market. In China, the waning oil prices have led local crude oil producers to reduce their investments and manufacture, leading to augmented imports, growing the need for efficient alternative sources. Furthermore, the U.S. and U.K. and India have been progressively more focusing on R&D activities that would assist in technical advancements in hydrogen and fuel cell technologies. This has ensured the advance of sufficient hydrogen storage for material-handling equipment, light-duty vehicles, and transportable power applications that would facilitate in fulfilling the targets set by the U.S. Department of Energy.

Competitive Analysis

The instability in the forces of demand and supply is estimated to create a beneficial impact on the overall global market in the forecast period. The financial assistance provided by the government around the world and trade bodies is estimated to salvage the situation in the coming years. The downturn effects visible in the market are estimated to stay a little longer due to the scale of impact on the global market. The need for prudent analysis of the market trends and demand projections is estimated to lead to formidable development in the market. The restoration and everyday operations are estimated to take some time, which will lead to intensive development of backlog in delivery. The constraints of growth are expected to be significant and considerable support will be needed to transform the market effectively. The need to build sustainability into the core assets of the companies will help companies’ battle situations like the current pandemic more effectively.

The strategic players of the Hydrogen Energy Storage market size are VRV S.P.A, Hbank Technologies Inc., Praxair Inc, Inoxcva, Mcphy Energy S.A, Luxfer Holdings PLC, VRV S.P.A, Worthington Industries Inc., Linde AG., and Air Liquide, among others.

Browse Full Report Details @ https://www.marketresearchfuture.com/reports/hydrogen-energy-storage-market-7216

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[williamcdoner]

A Guide To Swimming Pool Equipment

Putting resources into a pool whether it is an over the ground or in-ground of whatever size and shape is just the fundamental idea. Introducing the fundamental pool gear and having total supplies along with imperative pool adornments structure part of your speculation havuz ekipmanları. As a pool proprietor, it is your obligation to deal with your pool so it is consistently ok for you, your friends and family, family members and companions to have a great time and appreciate. All out security ought to be the need objective in keeping a pool.

 One significant pool gear is your siphon gathering. Its capacity is to keep your pool's water flow all together. Siphoning in new and new water and siphoning out messy water is its day by day work. In choosing an energy-effective pool siphon, numerous specialists propose picking those multi-speed siphons with programmed control frameworks. This sort of pool gear can make you qualified for awards, tax reductions or refunds. Check the siphon's HP rating and engine productivity and discover what is the best energy proficient sort for your utilization. Lower HP engine and legitimate running of 3-4 hours of siphoning activity rather than 5-6 hours mean lower energy utilization.

 Another significant hardware is your filtration framework. Your pool can have a sand, cartridge or diatomaceous earth (DE) sort of channel. On the off chance that you need low support, you can go with a very good quality cartridge channel which can channel tiny particles. A little DE powder can be added to the skimmer to make your pool water shimmer. Your channels and siphons are vital pool supplies in light of the fact that their capacity is security. They flow, disinfect and clean your pool water.

 For a long time, pool cleaning is done physically. These days, you have the programmed pool cleaners made by top makers for your in-ground or over the ground pools. These are important pool hardware supplies. You can settle on a programmed pressure-side, a pull type or a mechanical more clean. Cleaners deal with the trash, huge and little from your pool. These advanced types of gear can save you long periods of tidy up when contrasted with manual cleaning.

 Pool radiators are additionally in vogue types of gear for some pool proprietors not just for individuals living in cool environments. They are famous to boost swimming happiness in any event, during slow time of year. Sun oriented pool radiators are turning out to be sought after these days. Others pick energy saver types like the gaseous petrol or propane radiators while others actually go for the electric kind. Whatever radiator you introduce, its goal is to save the water at the correct temperature for your family to appreciate swimming in any event, during cold days and evening’s.

 One fundamental and defensive gear is the pool cover. Winter pool covers can shield your pool from the cruel environment impacts achieved by solid breezes. Huge flotsam and jetsam, leaves, twigs, branches can discover their way to a revealed pool. Covers not just shield your pool from trash. They can likewise forestall any suffocating mishaps. There are sun oriented covers and various kinds of cross section texture, vinyl, and strong covers. These materials are sensibly evaluated.

 Present day salvage supplies ought to likewise be a piece of your pool hardware stock. Things, for example, salvage tubes, emergency treatment packs, spine sheets, CPR veils, head immobilizers and ring floats are crucial devices important in the event of any superfluous occurrences or mishaps most extraordinarily when there are youngsters and old around.

 What about pool lights? For some pool proprietors, these pool lights are considered as standard pool supplies to expand the swimming happiness. Late evening swimming will be hazardous if there are no lights. Swimmers won't see the pool's dividers and water level. There are numerous kinds of pool lights accessible on the lookout.

 You can pick sun powered pool lighting, fiber-optic or the most progressive lighting framework today which are the LED lights. Beside the abovementioned, a portion of the other pool types of gear, supplies and accomplices to secure are salt chlorine generators, gliding chlorinators, brominators, pool skimmers, pool alerts, substance feeders, steps and stepping stools, vacuum hoses, and so on

 There are legitimate online stockroom merchants offering pool hardware from top brands like Kreepy Krauly, Hayward, Polaris, Aquabot, Baracuda, Sta-Rite, Fafco, Raypak, Pentair, Zodiac, and numerous others. Most pool types of gear have positive client audits. Plan your planning, work out a financial plan for your ideal types of gear and invest energy to do virtual online window shopping looking at costs and unique offers. In your selection of items, ensure that your need is security before excellence and relaxation.

[skepticaloccultist]

To Cure Any Ailment

To Cure Any Ailment

The stone house was low to the ground, its roof like a gentle wave of aged ceramic tile, basking red under the hot noon sun. We had come to this place on foot, parking the car in the nearby village uphill. The schist of its walls packed with some sandy mortar. On the corner of one window scratched in the stone I spied geometric patterns, pentagrams and hexagrams and numbers, likely dates. Though we were ducking into the doorway before I had a chance to really look.

Inside the house was simple, with a modern table and an old stone oven in the corner of the room. There was a small upper floor with a room of some sort. In the main room it was like a kitchen covered in pans and pots, odd shaped earthen vessels and boxes made of salvaged fruit crates. The smell of earth and herbs strong, but also the smell of petrol and dog.

In the far corner by the hearth a medium sized dog of some age lay in the shade. The cool floor against its worn fur it seemed half aware of our presence. An eye lingering just before closing in our direction.

The man had invited us to his home after a discussion at a local cafe. He was of Roma descent, a gypsy by common name, and said he knew a thing or two about the ways of folk magic and healing.

He spoke to my guide in a slow eloquent sounding tone of Portuguese. I wish I had understood his words myself, for they seemed so much more nuanced than my guide translated on my behalf. He was affable of character, likely in his late 60s or so in age. Well dressed and kept, neat in a Mediterranean style with a tendency to wink occasionally in my direction.

He had led us from the road to this house down a way from the village. While the building seemed active in its messiness it seemed unlikely that he lived at this location. More than likely he lives in a building in the village itself, though I was never able to fully confirm this. The path down from the village to the stone house was as wide as a regular road, though rougher, and would pass a vehicle.

As we stood in the large ground floor kitchen space he arranged a couple of chairs for us. We were to observe as he performed some bit of magic on our behalf, to provide us with something to be used to cure "any ailment".

We sat upon firm wooden chairs as our host went about moving things, organizing this and that and collecting certain objects and ingredients in his work area, a large rough wooden table. Once a few pots had been cleaned and a tank with fuel for the campstove near the window located he began to prepare some concoction.

First he took several herbs and placed them in an earthen pot, pouring in water and adding salt at the end. Then in a pan over the campstove he heated some fat (I was not able to confirm if it was lard or cheap vegetable fat) to which he added a bit of what looked to be red wine. This he removed from the fire, mixed in the strained herbs, and let cool.

From a small metal tin he removed a living lizard, one of the small types one sees on the paths here in the mountains, and using a pin he either killed or paralyzed it with a thrust through the back of the head. He then proceeded to remove its eyes and place them in a small shot-glass sized glass. With the remainder of the lizard tied with wire to a stick of some kind he roasted the lizard's body over the campstove.

Once the lizard was a charcoal colour he placed it down on the table and pulled up a chair to join us. He brought out a liquor of local custom that is a kind of pineapple flavored moonshine. We each had a small glass of the sweet and rather pleasant drink.

During our drinking he explained briefly that the lizard carries some purpose in the final solution he is creating. Though mostly he avoided questions and spoke of a woman in the village with whom he seems to have had some bad dealings with, an unsatisfied client or scorned ex-lover I was not able to fully discern.

He returned to his work, making some marks on a part of the cottage floor near the corner. In the corner beyond his markings there was a small table setup as a kind of altar. I managed to take a picture of the altar but he then made me promise not to share it, to which I agreed.

In the middle of his markings, some angles and a kind of star, he placed a bowl and the crushed remains of the charcoaled lizard next to the pan of fat, herbs, and wine on the floor. He poured a bit of what I took to be liquor into the bowl with the lizard bits, then took a swig from the same bottle. From the smaller bowl where he had placed the lizard's eyes he separated them into small shells, possibly hen's eggs. Then he poured the black crush lizard powder and liquor mixture into each egg shell. To this he added some dirt or dust from a bag and spoke almost constantly under his breath. My guide said he did not hear Portuguese and did not know what was being said, and though I thought I recognized some phrases I can not be certain.

After crushing the eggshells full of lizard eye and liquid and heating them over a fire in the pan of fat, wine and herbs he placed the remaining dried material in a smooth small leather bag. By the time he had finished the Roma was quite out of breath, slinking down into the chair and taking a drink of the pineapple moonshine we had had before.

My guide was told that the bag is made from catskin, though I have yet to have it tested. I was rather hesitant to bring it through customs but they didn't seem to notice it upon my return. I have sent a sample of the material in the bag to a friend to see if its chemical constituents turn up anything interesting.

I was instructed that for head ailments I should sleep with the bag beneath my pillow, and for chest ailments I should wear it on a necklace under my shirt. If this winter brings the kind of nasty the last one did, I may end up giving it a go to stop the ubiquitous London Underground plague.

I plan to return to Portugal again this year before winter. Its my hope that I will be able to connect with a person who is rumored to be good at getting to various abandoned stone buildings that may hold markings relevant to my research. Until then I have a stack of papers and books to work through here in London and should have the second issue of the print edition of the Skeptical Occultist ready for pre-order by the solstice next month.

[pengiesama]

The Care and Keeping Of Your Matchmaker, Chapter Three

Title: The Care and Keeping Of Your Matchmaker (Chapter One, Chapter Two, Chapter Three) Series: Tales of Zestiria Pairing: Sorey/Mikleo Summary: Sorey picks up a new babysitting client for some extra cash. He didn’t exactly count on a six-year-old trying to hook him up with her older brother. (Modern/Highschool AU)

IN THIS EPISODE: Sorey gets invited over for dinner, and Mikleo wants to jump out a window.

WARNING: POTENTIAL BERSERIA SPOILERS

Link: AO3

Read on Tumblr!

–

On Wednesdays, Sorey got a ride from his mother to school. It was at her insistence – with the multiple jobs she worked to make ends meet, they rarely got any meaningful time together. Sorey’s biological father was always coming up with new, creative, and underhanded ways to get out of paying child support, so they’d long since stopped relying on any money from that end. Over the years, they’d learned to scrimp, and save, and go without – but his mother always went out of her way to keep her Wednesday mornings open, no matter what jobs she had on her plate, to drop Sorey off at school on her salvaged, souped-up, beloved, ultra-cool motorcycle. It was a vintage hand-me-down from his grandpa, and the magnificent creature was kept in top shape with his mom’s thrifty gearhead skills. It was his mother’s second son, and Sorey’s own little brother. His loud, fast little brother.

They zipped down the streets, Sorey’s arms wrapped tight around his mother’s waist as she steered them toward his high school.

“I HEARD FROM ROSE THAT YOU GOT A NEW BABYSITTING JOB?” shouted Selene over the noise of the wind and the engine.

“WHAT?” shouted Sorey over the noise of the same.

“I HEARD FROM ROSE THAT YOU GOT A NEW BABYSITTING JOB!”

“YEAH, I GOT A NEW JOB. IT’S FOR BABYSITTING. ROSE SET IT UP FOR ME.”

“WHO DID? I THOUGHT IT WAS ROSE?”

“ROSE GOT IT FOR ME, MOM.”

“OH, THAT’S NICE OF HER. SHE’S GOT THAT BUSINESS SENSE.”

“SHE SMELLS LIKE WHAT?”

“BUSINESS SENSE!”

“OH. YEAH, I GUESS SHE DOES KINDA SMELL LIKE THAT.”

The rush of wind around them filled the silence as Sorey struggled to pick through his mother’s odd choice of metaphor.

“…SO, WHAT’S THE NEW LITTLE ONE LIKE?” Selene prompted again.

Sorey was again silent, trying to figure out the best way to phrase his feelings.

She’s sweet, but keeps trying to hook me up with her older sibling, and not that I don’t totally appreciate the effort because he’s so beautiful I could cry, but he’s clearly so not interested in me, so it’s just kinda pouring salt in the wound when she knocks my ice cream into his lap and insists I help him clean up.

“…FIRST GRADE. VERY SPUNKY.”

All too soon, they arrived at Sorey’s school. They always seemed to have an audience waiting for them on Wednesdays – not that he could blame them, he guessed; his mom’s bike WAS awesome. But he would never have expected so much of his school to be interested in motorcycles. Sorey hopped off the back of the bike and handed his helmet back to his mom. His mom popped up her visor to crack a smile at Sorey, and a chorus of sequels and sighs broke out among the gathered crowd. A few students passed out.

“Have a great day at school, Sorey. Love you lots.”

“Love you too, mom,” said Sorey. He leaned in to give his mother a hug, her leather jacket soft and warm against his cheek. “Have a great day at work!”

As she drove off, Rose strolled up. She rested her hand on Sorey’s shoulder, her face twisted in some sort of profound thought.

“Man.” She whistled low. “I’m more into blondes, but I can definitely see the appeal.”

Sorey tilted his head. The crowd began to disperse, the fainted students were dragged by their limbs up the hillside and, more painfully, up the stairs. “Appeal?”

Rose shook her head. “Someday I’ve gotta give you that birds and bees talk. Anyway, let’s walk and talk – how did the sitting job go? Since you decided not to respond to my texts yesterday.”

Sorey groaned and clutched the back of his neck with one hand, rubbing at the tension there. He didn’t really want to talk to anyone about anything yesterday once he got back from the ice cream disaster. He’d gotten home, contemplated the cold and unfeeling void of the universe, ate some mac & cheese, read a library book, and went to bed; too exhausted to even wake up when his mom got home past midnight. But, Rose was the one who helped him get these jobs, even the disastrous ones; she deserved to know the important details. And if denied, she’d find out anyway. By any means necessary.

So, Sorey spilled the beans. On Maddy, on Mikleo, on dumping ice cream on Mikleo, by Maddy proxy. Rose was absolutely howling by the end.

“Man, Sorey, you could’ve at least gone back home with him to help him with laundry! Maybe loaned him your shirt to wear, maybe help him up to sit on the washing machine while it runs, maybe make out with him a little during the spin cycle.”

Sorey sputtered and turned bright red. “W-why would I need to lend him my shirt, it was his pants, Rose, the pants got the ice cream on them--”

“Well, you didn’t object to the idea of laundromat hanky-panky, that’s telling.” Rose grabbed Sorey by the shoulder, and waited until he looked at her. “Are you comfortable with this client? If you’re legit too embarrassed to go back, or think you won’t be able to do your job with Pretty Prince Prep School flittering around, I’ll assign someone else before the kid gets too attached to you.”

And therein laid the issue. On the way to the ice cream shop, Muse had quietly explained to Sorey about Maddy’s…tendency to drive off babysitters. Her late father had been a stay-at-home parent, and with his passing, she profoundly and loudly rejected any other caretakers. But her behavior toward Sorey, Muse said, was different. She had taken to him like no other. If he got too overwhelmed, Muse assured him that he should always be certain to take care of himself first, but with how good he was with Maddy already – well, Muse would pay him handsomely for his time.

The money was a factor, sure. Twenty bucks an hour was great, and certainly more than most clients were willing to pay. But it was about Maddy, too. Sorey was apparently the first babysitter she hadn’t attempted to murder on sight. What kind of person would he be to abandon her just because he didn’t think he could keep his dick in his pants with her brother around?

“I’m fine,” Sorey assured Rose. “It’ll be fine.”

“Good, because I contacted the client last night and she’s already interested in booking you for the foreseeable future. You got any clients you really want to hold onto or am I gonna have you down as her personal sitter?”

“…Well,” Sorey said. He guessed that would be the case from his conversation with Muse, but it was flattering to hear. “There’s one.”

--

Sparrowfeather Babysitting Services contracted their talent to private businesses as well, such as daycares. Butterfly Wing Daycare was one of these businesses – a local outfit, run by an older woman out of her home. Tabatha wasn’t just good with children; she was also the only one who could out-smell Rose when it came to business sense. Thing was, Sorey had seen enough Breaking Bad (at Rose’s house, watching an episode or two every so often, getting concerned that Rose was starting to get Ideas) to recognize what a money laundering front looked like. Sorey wasn’t entirely comfortable being used as a chess piece between a highly-motivated high school business tycoon and a maybe-probably mob leader, but the “daycare” part of the business was at least legitimate. They provided high-quality care for low-income children, and Sorey was a regular feature as an after-school helper when he didn’t have other sitting jobs or commitments.

Today, he was helping for a few hours before he was off to visit Maddy’s house – Muse had invited him over for dinner to help him get to know Maddy better, and of course that meant Mikleo was likely to be there too, and that meant Sorey would have to stare his crush in the face the day after he’d dumped ice cream on his crotch in public. He’d loaned him his jacket – not his shirt, quick to push Rose’s laundromat scenario out of his mind for the fourth time that day – to tie around his waist on the walk home which he really needed back, all things considered. He only had the one, and it was still pretty chilly out. He’d have to try to keep clean at daycare today so he didn’t show up a wreck.

Easier said than done, though. Today was a pretty rambunctious group.

Velvet howled in bone-deep fury as Sorey gently bent down to pick up her little brother and her nephew. Both needed a diaper change, but Velvet was quite the overprotective sort, even with someone she knew as well as Sorey. Sorey smiled at her, and made no effort to disengage her dangling death grip on the front of his shirt.

“Do you want to help me change Laphi and Phi today, Velvet?” he asked.

“Pbbblltlt!” said Phi, excited at the prospect. Despite Laphi’s full diaper, he was out like a light, snoring gently behind his pacifier.

Velvet scowled up at him, but nodded, regardless. Baby in one hand, baby in the other, furious four-year-old dangling from his front, Sorey cautiously but confidently walked over to the changing area. Sorey was confident in his ability to wrangle all ages of kids, but sweet babies like Phi were a joy to work with. Phi clapped delightedly at the feeling of a fresh dry diaper on his bottom, and giggled as Sorey buttoned him back into his onesie and tickled his tummy. His single lock of hair curled atop his head like a halo. Velvet yanked at Sorey’s wrist, and he dutifully allowed her to continue tickle duty while he moved on to changing Laphi. Laphi didn’t wake up once through the diaper change, except to sneeze out his pacifier in an explosion of spit and mucus. All kids were pretty gross sometimes, but babies did take the cake. Sorey swapped a fresh pacifier into his mouth without batting an eye, preventing a rude awakening. Laphi slept soundly under Velvet’s watchful gaze, and Sorey skillfully gathered both babies up and settled down into a rocking chair to tempt Phi into dozing off as well. Sweet baby he might be, but he turned into a little terror when he missed his naps.

Velvet was eyeing the free space on Sorey’s lap when another friend came up to play. This friend was wearing a pink witch hat and hauling behind her a battered top-hat-wearing teddy bear, and was a friend Sorey hoped and prayed would behave herself while he was trying to get two babies to sleep.

“I put a curse on you!” shrieked Maggie Lou, swinging her teddy bear down on Velvet’s head. “I am an evil witch!”

So much for that. Velvet roared and tackled her to the ground, barreling them through the block castle Velvet had been building around her babies a scant few minutes ago. It was a situation that required expert defusing.

“Velvet and Maggie,” Sorey said, firmly. “We’ve covered this before. My magic earrings mean that no curses work at daycare.”

Sorey shook his head back and forth to make his feathered earrings jiggle. Phi giggled again and tried to grab at them. Maggie Lou pouted mightily.

“But I got my witch hat on,” she objected.

“Sorry, my magic earrings are a gift from a wise old dragon. They can’t be beat by a witch hat.”

In truth, he made his magic earrings as a fourth-grade art project; with matching pairs for his mom and grandpa. Regardless, they were indeed proven to guard against witch curses. Maggie Lou huffed and hurled her teddy bear across the room.

“Now, that’s not a good way to treat a friend,” Sorey said gently. “Why don’t you go pick up your bear and ask Velvet nicely if she’d like to play with you? I think Velvet might like to spend some time in the pillow pit, since her babies are pretty tuckered out.”

Maggie Lou looked Velvet up and down. Velvet scowled at her right back.

“…MEET ME IN THE PIT!” Maggie Lou screamed at the top of her lungs, and then ran at top speed to belly flop into the pillow nest.

Velvet rolled her eyes and stalked up to Sorey. He leaned down just enough to let Velvet plant gentle kisses on the babies’ heads.

“Thank you for playing with Maggie, Velvet. She doesn’t quite know how to ask people things nicely just yet.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Velvet scoffed. “You had better give Phi his binky when he goes to sleep. I’ll know.”

“I will,” Sorey promised.

--

Yesterday had been one of the most amazing and most mortifying days of Mikleo’s short life.

He’d had a normal day at school, and a normal music lesson. And then he’d come face-to-face with a living checklist of all the things he found attractive. And then his little sister dumped ice cream in his lap in public, right in front of said living checklist. God, he couldn’t even look him in the eye on the whole walk home. And Sorey just had to be so gentle, and understanding, and apologetic – as if it was his fault Maddy decided to use his ice cream as ammunition – and even loaned him his jacket to cover him up.

Was it objectively creepy that Mikleo went to sleep cuddled up with said jacket that night? Yes, it indeed was. But Mikleo needed some comfort in his life after being publicly humiliated in front of his crush, and if falling asleep while wrapped up in Sorey’s smell was what it took to not feel so personally targeted by the cruel whims of fate, well, what more could you ask of him?

And then his mother just had to set up this dinner thing to let Maddy further victimize him in front of Sorey. Was this her new tactic in getting rid of babysitters? Terrorism by proxy? He thought his mother was sympathetic to his plight – she seemed to recognize how embarrassed he was, and let him eat dinner in his room while she tended to his pants. But now she was just setting up more opportunities for Mikleo to be harassed in front of the most quantitatively gorgeous person he’d ever set eyes on. Maybe he should just go to the university library to study; or more accurately, stare at his books for three long hours, absorb nothing, and slink home under cover of darkness, cursing the machinations of fate.

Alas, he had another music lesson first. And a tutor who’d never let him live yesterday down.

“So, were you too busy cozying up with your baby sister’s new nanny yesterday to do any practicing? Sure seems like it.”

Mikleo glowered at his tutor across his sheet music. His tutor Edna was an old friend of his mother’s; classmates in undergrad, and had known Mikleo since he was nothing but a squalling, red-faced ball of blankets. She was like an aunt to him as much as she was his tutor. Normally he tried to let her teasing roll off him – water off a duck’s back. But with the ice cream wound still raw, it was more like molasses on a duck’s back – sticky, gumming up his feathers, and distracting him even more from whatever etudes he’d been assigned for warmups. Edna’s eyebrows rose at his reaction.

“Youth,” she snorted, after a long pause. She flipped to the next page of music and began to play him in on piano.

Mikleo briefly considered making a crack about her height in response, but decided against it – he wanted to get practice over with as soon as possible, and not be subject to Edna’s “Dagobah Training” (which consisted of being forced to play his flute while carrying Edna around on his back). That would be just the thing he needed Sorey to see after yesterday to really cement him in his mind as a complete weirdo.

“If I didn’t know any better, it would seem as though our little Meebo is trying to rush through his very important flute practice,” Edna said as Mikleo finished another etude. If Sorey got here and Edna called Mikleo that in front of him, he would just pack everything up and flee to the woods. They would hear his haunting flute music on the night wind and remember. “I wonder if it’s because he still needs to pick out a cute little outfit and do his hair for his big dinner date tonight.”

“It is not a date!” Mikleo snapped, finally. “And I’m not eating dinner here anyway. I need to catch the bus to the university soon, so I’m sure Andersen will forgive me for rushing these etudes.”

“Dunno about that. Ol’ Carl-Joachim was a cantankerous windbag, I hear. I don’t think he’d like to hear you tumbling through his tarantella just so you can get tarted up for your date.”

“Well, I’m sure you can pass my apologies to him personally the next time you two meet for your class reunion,” Mikleo said. He paused, and then huffed again. “And, like I said, I’m not going to dinner, and even if I was, it’s not a date.”

With that, Mikleo lifted his flute to his lips to begin again, and took a deep breath.

“Mikleo, come downstairs! Sorey’s here and dinner’s almost ready!” came Muse’s voice.

The deep breath came out as an agonizing shriek through the flute, and Edna gave a devious little grin, even as she rubbed at her ear.

“My, my. A bit early, isn’t he? Best that little Meebo scurry off and pop a breath mint before heading down.”

No, no, no, no. Oh, no. Oh, no, no, no, no. Mikleo wasn’t ready to face this. He never would be, and that was the whole point of him running off to the university library for the rest of his life. Would he be able to escape out his bedroom window? They were on the second floor, but maybe if Mikleo landed in a bush, or rigged a ladder from his bedsheets –

Muse opened the door to the study, smiling as if she wasn’t the warden leading Mikleo to his execution. Mikleo solemnly packed up his flute and papers, rose, and trudged after Edna as she serenely trotted out before him.

“Edna, this is Sorey, Maddy’s new sitter,” Muse said. Sorey smiled warmly, and offered his hand to shake. “Sorey, this is Mikleo and Maddy’s music tutor, Edna.”

“So this is the new nanny,” Edna said, delicately shaking Sorey’s hand with just her fingertips. “Both of the little scamps in this house just can’t stop talking about you.”

“Edna teaches me violin!” Maddy interjected loudly. She was furiously koala-hugging Sorey’s leg. “I like her because I’ll be taller than her soon!”

Edna’s eye twitched. Mikleo was not quite done with being furious at his sister yet, but he felt some affection resurface.

“That sounds like so much fun, Maddy,” said Sorey. “I used to play violin, too. I’d love to see what you’ve learned some time.”

Maddy beamed up at him adoringly. Mikleo was immediately put back on edge. What was she planning?

“Well, would love to stay and chat, but my ride’s here,” said Edna. She fetched her parasol and shoes, and opened the front door – a sleek black car with tinted windows idled outside, in a fashion that could only be called “looming”. Her chauffeur was also looming outside the passenger side of the car; Edna’s brother, a massive bear of a man who nonetheless jumped whenever Edna said jump, and waited around outside for hours when Edna said likewise. He wore a black tailored suit and sunglasses that likely cost more than Mikleo’s monthly school tuition. Mikleo had no idea where he got his money, but figured it was best he didn’t ever find out.

With Edna gone, it now fell to Mikleo to make his escape or face death. Death in the shape of a gorgeous guy who was great with kids, played violin, had pecs the size of Mikleo’s head, and…Mikleo peered down at the magazine clutched in Sorey’s hand. Sorey handed it over to him, almost embarrassed, for some reason.

“Sorry. I came in and saw some Archaeology Today journals on your coffee table. That article on our local university is great – I’d love to check out that online 3-D catalogue of cave paintings they’ve been compiling, if they ever make it available to the public.”

Mikleo knew about that catalogue. In fact, he had helped the graduate students code and compile some of it for college credit. In fact, Uncle Michael was in charge of the whole thing, and would be presenting it at the university’s summer symposium. He would also be announcing at the summer symposium that he would be making the whole catalogue free to the public, because “fuck your capitalist barriers to scientific advancement and fuck you”. Uncle Michael didn’t speak in public often but tended to cap off the speeches he did make with the same thing.

“I could show you the beta,” Mikleo blurted out, his fear of death overcome by the urge to show off a bit. “If you’re interested.”

Sorey’s eyes went wide, and a smile lit bright upon his face. If Mikleo thought before that he could outrun this crush, well, that was all over now.

--

It was a wonderful, magical evening. It was simply the only way to describe it. Once Maddy had shown off all her toys and her violin to Sorey, she quietly adhered to her bedtime; allowing Muse to carry her off to bed without complaint – and allowing Mikleo to produce his laptop, connect to the university database, and bask gloriously (and gaze adoringly) at the excitement radiating off of Sorey.

“This is going to revolutionize the field! It’s incredible, Mikleo! A full 3-D index of cave paintings across the world, available to the public – you’re so amazing to be involved with this, it must be so exciting--”

Truth be told, Uncle Michael and his graduate students had done most of the hardest work; flattering as it was, Sorey was really overestimating Mikleo’s involvement. Mikleo pushed up his glasses with his thumb and tried to will the redness from his cheeks.

“I mean…I helped with the rendering, and indexing, and the tagging system…compared to the others involved, it’s not much.”

Sorey turned around, that sunshine smile he’d been wearing for the past hour still plastered on his face. Oh, Mikleo’s heart was singing.

“That’s just as amazing,” Sorey said, confident in the statement. “I’ve always dreamed of doing something just like this…travelling across the world, sharing incredible things with the public, really showing everyone how exciting the world around them is…”

Do you want me to get the project lead down here?, Mikleo thought. He’s probably sitting on the floor of his study in sweatpants, eating gummi worms and sending inflammatory emails to the university’s professor listserv.

“I…we could use some more help. Not that I’m behind on my work,” Mikleo clarified. “But there’s still quite a lot of tagging to be done. It’s simple work even for someone not familiar with the subject matter--”

“Oh, I’m familiar with it,” Sorey said, cutting him off. “I recognize most of these. Had a cave painting phase after my dinosaur phase as a kid.”

Mikleo’s eyes narrowed.

“Well, I guess you’d be up to a challenge, then. I’ll get you your own login, and we’ll have a race to tag the rest of the database. Geographical location, time period, subject and medium.”

Sorey’s eyes sparkled. “You’re on. What’s the prize for the winner?”

“Loser takes the winner out for dinner,” Mikleo blurted out.

He couldn’t believe the words that had just tumbled their way out of his mouth. Mikleo felt his whole face redden; his ears and neck likewise. Sorey’s eyes went wide, and his mouth snapped shut. Oh god, Mikleo wanted to take the words back. Maybe Sorey would be willing to pretend he didn’t hear Mikleo trying to make things weird, and Mikleo could keep talking to him about archaeology, and history, and art, and music, and – and everything.

But the sunshine smile beamed forth once more, and Mikleo felt just about ready to float away.

“Sounds great.”

--

Upstairs, Maddy listened in on the proceedings on the walkie-talkie she had planted in the living room, and smiled a triumphant smile.

[shanky316-blog]

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Who Are We?

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Johnny and I first met in a coffee shop...our love of coffee has continued. To this day coffee remains at the center of our social universe.

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