#nearest english coaching centre

[gotham--fc]

Avergonyit - An Alexia Putellas Imagine

Not requested, just a little idea I had as I emerge from my woho brainrot and get back into woso

R moves to Barcelona and tries to learn Catalan, what happens when she hears her girlfriend Alexia teasing her about her pronunciation with the team?

I don't speak Spanish or Catalan so I apologize if anything's incorrect I did my best

It probably wasn’t the best idea, moving to Barcelona without knowing any Spanish. Y/N hadn’t planned on transferring, but when Barca Femini makes an offer, well, it’s not like Y/N could refuse. It all happened very quickly, the offer coming towards the end of the transfer window, not leaving Y/N much time to prepare. It really was only a few weeks between the offer coming in, and Y/N landing in Barcelona. She’s extremely grateful that the team got everything set up for her in Barcelona, so Y/N didn’t have to worry about trying to find an apartment or any of those things during the whirlwind of packing and moving across the globe to a place she’s never been.

Needless to say, Y/N’s Spanish was very bad, at least at first. It was a challenge, trying to find her way to the training centre, the nearest grocery store, when she’s not able to ask anyone for directions. Add on that most people speak Catalan anyway, any rudimentary Spanish Y/N could muster didn’t do much for her.

It got easier, the longer she’s here. The team speaks a mixture of Spanish and Catalan, but most speak English too, or at least enough English that Y/N can talk to them. She picks up words and phrases, mostly football terms, since that’s what she hears most often. She’s able to understand what the coaches yell at the team on the field, most of the time, and she finds the areas of the city where people speak English and she’s settles in as well as she can.

What really helps her settle in is the team. Y/N bonds with the other non-Spanish players, them being the first ones she could really speak to without needing someone to translate everything. As time goes on, Y/N finds herself gravitating towards Alexia more and more.

Alexia, as captain, took it upon herself to make sure Y/N was settling in well, and the two hang out outside of training as Alexia gives Y/N a tour of the city and takes her out to her favourite restaurants and coffee shops. The more and more they hang out, the more and more it stops feeling like a captain trying to help a new teammate settle in. Y/N isn’t really sure what to make of it, she knows the ways she’s starting to feel about Alexia, but she’s not sure about Alexia’s feelings.

Things really shift after a tough game, a hard fought win, when the team, despite all being exhausted and sore, decide to go out to a club after. Y/N’s having fun, laughing and dancing with her teammates, and she takes a quick break from the dancefloor to get a drink from the bar. She’s sipping her drink, watching her teammates, when a body slides up next to her.

“Hola carinyet,” Alexia says. Y/N smiles as she turns to Alexia. She’s asked before what the nickname means, but Alexia just smiled and told her not to worry about it.

“Hola Ale,” Y/N says.

“Very good,” Alexia says, “Soon you will be speaking Catalan better than me.”

“I just said hello,” Y/N says. She notices suddenly that both her and Alexia have been leaning towards each other and now Y/N can clearly smell the scent of Alexia’s perfume. Y/N’s distracted by it that she misses what Alexia says next. She zones back in as Alexia laughs and places her hand on Y/N’s arm.

“Do you want to get some air?” Alexia asks. Y/N nods. She quickly downs the rest of her drink and follows Alexia outside.

The air is cool, much cooler than it was inside and Y/N shivers involuntarily. Alexia leans casually on the wall, watching Y/N with a look of amusement.

“What?” Y/N asks.

“Nothing, ets bonica.”

“I don’t know what that means,” Y/N says.

“Vull fer-te un petó,” Alexia says in response.

“Ale…” Y/N whines, “Stop bullying me, you know I don’t know what that means.”

“It means,” Alexia takes Y/N’s hand and tugs her closer, “I want to kiss you. Is that okay, carinyet?”

“Oh.” Y/N breathes, surprised. Alexia doesn’t falter, stays where she is, the same easy confident look on her face as Y/N processes her words. “Yeah. Yeah. You can.”

“Bona.”

After that kiss, and the next morning where Y/N woke up with a hangover in Alexia’s bed, they’ve been inseparable. They’ve been dating ever since and Y/N couldn’t be happier. Alexia makes her feel so happy and content and loved. They’ve had a few bumps along the way, but nothing very serious and nothing that isn’t fixed easily.

“Hola lovebirds,” Mapi says as she and Ingrid walk into the locker room. Alexia rolls her eyes and Y/N sticks her tongue out.

“She’s in some kind of mood today,” Ingrid says as she sets her things down in her locker.

“Don’t act like you don’t love it amor,” Mapi says.

Y/N smiles as she listens to her teammates. She really loves it here and she loves listening to her teammates tease Mapi and Ingrid for being grossly adorable. That, and whenever they tease Mapi they don’t tease Y/N and Alexia.

“Ale?” Y/N says while the team is semi distracted, “What do you want to do, uh, després de la pràctica?”

Since they started dating, Y/N has been trying to learn Catalan. It’s a slow process, but she has managed to pick up a lot of words and phrases and ‘after practice’ is one of them. Y/N speaks Catalan more at home when it’s just her and Alexia, mostly because she’s still not confident in her skills. She’s trying to speak it more with the others, but she still can’t do more than basic sentences.

Before Alexia can answer, Mapi snorts.

“‘Després de la pràctica’” Mapi says, “A pronunciació no és important per a tu, Ale?”

“Està massa ocupada amb altres coses,” Patri says, wagging her eyebrows.

“What are they saying?” Y/N asks Alexia. Alexia hesitates in answering.

“Hey Y/N,” Mapi says, “Can you tell me what this says?” Mapi turns her phone to Y/N, a word, embarbussament, written in her notes app. It’s not a word Y/N has seen before, and not one Alexia has taught her, but she tries. As she stumbles her way through, the snickers around the room get louder.

“Are you sure you’ve been teaching her Catalan?” Patri says. “She’s worse than CGH.”

“What are you talking about?” Y/N says. Y/N tries to grab Alexia’s arm, but she doesn’t pay attention as she heads over to where Patri and Mapi are sitting and continues joking with them about Y/N’s pronunciation.

Y/N can feel the embarrassment building. The more the laughter builds, the more Y/N feels like crying. She’s been trying her hardest and Alexia has been, until now, so patient with her. Alexia has always praised Y/N for her Catalan, gently correcting her when needed, but always telling her how proud she is that she’s trying. But now, listening to Alexia laugh at her, Y/N wonders if Alexia really is proud of her, or if she just says that to Y/N’s face, and then makes fun of her behind her back. Along with the embarrassment and humiliation she feels, Y/N also feels betrayed. Alexia knows how nervous she is to speak Catalan in front of the team, terrified of making a mistake. Y/N always thought she would Alexia in her corner, no matter what, but now Y/N realizes that was never true.

***

Y/N stops speaking Catalan after that.

She still wants to learn, but after what happened, she can’t bring herself to try again. Alexia keeps asking if she wants to practice her Catalan, but Y/N says no every time. She’s not going to give Alexia anything else to make fun of her about. Y/N starts to distance herself from Alexia. It’s not intentional and not what she wants, but whenever they’re together, Y/N can’t help but remember how she felt hearing Alexia laugh at her.

“Do you want to go out for dinner tonight?” Alexia asks. Y/N shakes her head.

“I’m pretty tired, think I’ll just stay home.”

“I don’t mind staying in,” Alexia says, “We can order something or I can cook something for you, carinyet.”

“If you want to go out, then you should go out. I’m sure you can find someone who wants to grab dinner with you. I’ll be fine.”

“Y/N…”

“Just drop it Alexia,” Y/N says, “Go have fun with your friends, I don’t care.”

Alexia doesn’t go out, she orders food for them both and they eat in silence. Alexia tries to make conversation, but Y/N stays quiet. After they finish eating and cleaning up, Alexia grabs Y/N before she can go sit by herself.

“What is going on? What’s wrong?” Alexia asks. Y/N shakes her head. “Don’t lie to me. I know something is wrong, tell me what’s bothering you.”

“Why?” Y/N mumbles, “So you can go laugh about it with Mapi and Patri later?”

“What?” Alexia says, “What are you talking about? What do they have to do with anything?”

“You were making fun of me!” Y/N says, feeling tears spring to her eyes, “The three of you, you kept making fun of me.”

“When? What are you talking about?”

“You were being mean about how I speak Catalan. You were being mean. I felt so embarrassed,” Y/N can’t stop the tears falling. “I’m trying my best and I know I’m not good and I know I screw up but it’s not like I grew up speaking it like you! You know how nervous I am to speak it and you were mean to me about it.”

“Bebita, we were just teasing. We weren’t trying to be mean.”

“It wasn’t funny!” Y/N takes a shaky breath. “You embarrassed me, Alexia. In front of the whole team. I felt so stupid. I feel so stupid. You keep saying all these things about how proud you are of me and how well I’m doing and then you let everyone make fun of me and you join in yourself!”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t realize you were upset,” Alexia says, “I am proud of you and I am impressed by you learning Catalan and I didn’t mean those things I said. I’m sorry I embarrassed you. I didn’t mean to. I love hearing you speak Catalan, mistakes and all, because it shows how dedicated you are. I love getting to share my language and my city and my culture with you. I’m so, so sorry that I ever made you feel like I wasn’t proud of you, or that you are not the most wonderful, and amazing, and caring person I know.”

“It didn’t feel good,” Y/N says, “It made me feel like crap. My girlfriend being so mean to me to her friends, it doesn’t feel good, Ale.”

“I’m sorry,” The longer the conversation goes on, the more distressed Alexia looks. “Please, por favor, what can I do? What can I do to fix this?”

Y/N shrugs. She doesn’t know.

“I promise that I will never make you feel like that again. Every minute of every day I will tell you how amazing you are, and I will never make you feel like you’re not the most incredible person. Te amo, carinyet, t'estimo tant.”

“I really want to believe you,” Y/N says, “I want to move on from this whole thing and forget about it, but I can’t.”

“I’m so sorry, I feel terrible. I hate that I hurt you. I mean it when I say I’ll do anything to make it up to you. I promise I will.”

“I know Ale.”

Y/N finally allows herself to fall into Alexia’s arms, lets her wipe away her tears. She lets Alexia hold her and comfort her and whisper apologies and comforting words in her ear. Y/N doesn’t know how they’ll fix this, but she does know that Alexia will never stop trying to make it right.

[charlesandmartine]

Thursday 6th July 2023

The little alarm clock went berserk at 7am this morning keeping its part of the bargain to get us up in time for the coach to Lake Louise. Bleerily we peered at our fellow passengers and admired the stoicism that they could so seemingly muster in the circumstances. The Lake is 45 mins away and Lake Louise village is first stop followed 4km later by the lake itself. This coach did not have National Express written down its side, but it so easily could have come from the same stable. Our Japanese immigrant driver rattled on in what could have passed as English, and we hoped whatever it was, was not important.

Now we have been in Canada long enough to be able to form an opinion on lake rankings. We have seen amazing lakes that go on forever; the size of Wales maybe. Others that you may not even comment on. Lake Louise was in a class on its own and thoroughly deserves the reputation it has won for itself. Unlike most lakes, you climb to get to it. The road snakes its way 4km up quite a steep hillside, passing expensive holiday resorts along the way. Then ahead of you dominating the immediate skyline is the highly impressive Fairmont Chateau Hotel which $1500 per night will buy you a double room overlooking the Lake. Reviews are generous and appreciative of the stunning location. Breakfast not included. The view these fortunate people gasp in when the curtains are flung back in the am is one of breathtaking beauty. What you will see is a turquoise blue stretch of water surrounded by huge mountains and six cradled glaciers staring back you. It is a sight to be transfixed by. Most people get off their coach and stand at the nearest point and gawp. Whatever difficulty, cost or inconvenience suffered to this point is soon forgotten. After our initial gawp, we, with limited time available, began a counter clockwise walk around the perimeter of the Lake. Wildlife tally; several chipmunks. After a meagre sandwich and a 2.5hr stop, we returned to meet our coach and the driver recommenced telling us stuff we still couldn't understand.

Our frenetic tour of these parts continued after an early evening meal. We had booked to travel up the Gondola despite Martine's lifetime fear of heights. The local no.1 bus took us to the base of Sulphur Mountain and the nerve centre for Gondolas. We were soon loaded up into our little Gondola and away we went climbing 7486ft into the evening sky alighting into another world, a world of mountain peaks and vast panoramic vistas which could be appreciated from an extensive network of boardwalks. At ground level it is hard to appreciate just how many mountain peaks there are. On the ground you see the mountain next to you, a mile and a half up, you see what is behind that mountain and behind that. It was such a good trip. Returning to earth and downtown, we returned to the Banff Avenue Brewing Company for a top up on our previous visit. I think I had the 'Smashed Head '.

This has been a great couple of days in Banff. A lot accomplished and despite a very busy tiring day, we are ready for moving on tomorrow to Jasper.

[madaminamorganheadsforthearctic]

Sweden to Norway

I am stuck in the bowels of the ship between a lorry with no sign of a driver and a coach driver who couldn’t start his coach and is having to reboot something and an overloaded car without occupants. The loader gives me a hand and with much inching, I eventually get my car out through the small gap and head for Ultra Car City.

I had been doing a bit of googling with the result that there was a Morgan dealer about 40 minutes from Gothenburg who opened at 11am but it seemed to be only a showroom; a business advertising that it did lorry exhaust of all types whilst you wait; and Ultra Car City. Worth a try. I found it walked in and up to two men who were talking, or more accurately the older one was talking to the younger one. I waited a bit and when he paused asked if they spoke English. The tall younger one said no. The older said ‘I do and I am his accountant’ Their argument -as that was what it clearly was- stopped, the accountant translated and then (usefully!) left. I drove the Morgan into the shed and the young bloke put it on a rather clever lifting device. The problem was evident, but a discussion needed so I opened up the English to Swedish translator on my phone.

A new exhaust was a last resort from both time and speciality perspective. We agreed that. My first suggestion were either put a piece of aluminium or similar strapped round and held in place with a jubilee clip -surprisingly easy to mime this. Not a runner as he hadn’t the kit. Next option was a new gasket for the flanges (I went for the Swedish for packaging as the nearest word to gasket).

The young man now looking rather better than when being bawled out by his accountant, had a go at the bolts on the flanges but they were not going to easily shift. ‘Svets’ he said. No translation for that. He then got a spot welder out looked at me and I shrugged. Still muttering Svets, he spotted a few points around the flange. Problem was sorted at least temporarily and for the equivalent of about £60.

But whether ‘svets’ is Swedish for welding, the name of the machine or an expletive as in ‘Svets off’, I don’t know. But svetted I headed for Oslo on a lovely summer day.

Getting into Oslo is easy and also a bit of a suprise as the traffic is channelled into tunnels on the outskirts, from which you emerge close to the centre and then have to re-engage the satnav quickly to find the hotel. I found mine, ditched the car and the luggage quickly and caught the jump on jump off city tour bus. Naf I know, but these open top city tour buses only take 90 mins or so and are a good way of finding out quickly what you want to do/not so and also give one a feel for the geographical layout of a City.

Pic from the top of the Radisson and yes, it is raining!

So armed with the knowledge the following day I declined the delights of the harbour sauna and visiting their main shopping street; climbed up the roof of the national opera house; …

…and took a boat across the harbour to both the Fram and Kon Tiki museums; stopped trying to find old/Viking Oslo (as it burnt down twice, was moved to a new location and anyway they like stuff to be new); walked round the port and to the Munch museum; bought a Starbucks and a bottle of wine. In the hotels a glass of wine is around £15-20 and a bottle starts at £60. I had asked why so expensive and the reply was we drink beer. Fair point.

The Fram is a wooden ship built to withstand ice and used by Nansen who having crossed Greenland then devised a plan to drift it over the Arctic Ocean and so prove his theory of currents, then Svedrup (not heard of him) took it to an archipelago off Greenland and finally Amundsen took it to on his South Pole expedition. Like the SS Great Britain it was left to rot in a southern hemisphere harbour and then rescued. It is certainly big in one respect, but small when thinking about what it did and where it went.

Next door is the Kin Tiki. Thor Heyerdahl and his balsa wood raft that he sailed from Peru to Polynesia to prove his theory that the Polynesians originally came from South America (disproved later by DNA tests). He then built Ra from papyrus and sailed it to from Morocco to Barbados to prove that there could have been contact between the Mediterranean religion and central/South America and so disprove Christopher Columbus who apparently had said that was impossible.

Seems to me that the line between magnificent explorer, totally foolhardy and off the planet, is a very fine one. Heyerdahl was a showman and a chancer but he made one good point - see the pic below:

Oslo was stuffed with Americans of the “ Gee honey come and look at this old english car” variety and the Japanese clustered round it taking pictures of each other. Meanwhile from the flight screen in the hotel lobby it appeared that the Norwegians had gone to join the Brits in Turkey, Greece and the Balearics. They knew their weather; I am just about to experience it!

And so to Lillehammer

[spokenenglish2]

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[taaboh]

𝙾𝙱𝚂𝙲𝚄𝚁𝙴 𝙷𝙴𝙰𝙳𝙲𝙰𝙽𝙾𝙽𝚂.

WHAT THEY SMELL LIKE. Leather and sunshine on a good day, cigarettes on a really bad one. On late nights that’ve either been really fun or really dreadful, he may also smell suspiciously of whatever was going on at his favourite bar, Tender (see: other miscellaneous cigarette brands, and maybe the distinct alcohol scent if he’s downed enough). Takayuki doesn’t wear cologne unless he’s going to the courtroom or a date that makes him nervous, and even then he goes for more subtle scents than anything that’s right in your face. He’s got a typically nice scent overall as long as he hasn’t been overworking himself to death.

HOW THEY SLEEP. SLEEPING POSITION. SCHEDULE. ETC… Takayuki sleeps deeply and easily, contrary to popular belief. He has the ability to fall asleep anywhere at any time-- the only issue is if a) he’s busy; and b) he has enough means to continue his work that taking breaks of any kind won't make him feel guilty. He likes to sleep on his back, and depending on the time of day he does it, he’ll throw his arm over his eyes to block it from the light. He prefers to get a couple of hours at a time, but he’s not immune to downing a can of coffee, passing out for fifteen minutes, and then going through hell on the otherworldly merits of the power nap. He knows the merits of sleep and he tries his best to get it... the weird schedules of a private investigator just get in the way sometimes.

WHAT MUSIC THEY ENJOY. For Japanese music, literally anything as long as it sounds good. He leans towards music that uses “real” instruments instead of purely digital or synthetic noise, though. For English music, he likes things typically called “dad rock”. The fact his portable music device of choice is a classic Walkman that plays cassette tapes probably doesn’t help this image, either. (Incidentally, Takayuki’s written his own stuff, and it’s mostly acoustic guitar-related nonsense inspired by rock. You know you’ve got a real in with him if you know about that.)

HOW MUCH TIME THEY SPEND GETTING READY EACH MORNING. This depends wildly on his already unreliable schedule. Takayuki’s the type of person who can just brush his teeth, wash his face, and get going... and even then, he can skip the face-washing, deal with his teeth, and dash out the door. Preferably he likes to spend at least an hour so he can brew coffee just the way he likes it (he’s particular and snobby, even if he’ll never be snobby out loud), have some breakfast (even if it’s some cheap rice, natto, and egg), shower, and brush his teeth. He’s not picky about clothes, though, especially since his fashion sense these days boils down to “grab the nearest tank top, a pair of jeans, and go”.

FAVOURITE THING TO COLLECT. Vintage video game-related things, whether consoles or the actual games themselves. It’s a real problem that eats into his bank account when the person selling the thing actually knows the value of what they’re selling. Takayuki bought a pinball machine once just because he saw it was on sale on the Internet and it was such a steal he couldn’t not have it.

LEFT OR RIGHT HANDED. Born right-handed, trained to be ambidextrous.

FAVOURITE SPORT(S). Baseball, and his favourite team’s the Giants. Takayuki’s not just into keeping up with the news on the league, though, and is known to volunteer his time coaching little league teams when he can (he helped a teacher at Nishishinjuku Elementary once and has had “she invites me to New Year’s dinner if I don’t have any other plans” privileges ever since). The guy’s nearly been scouted by a pro for a team after watching him swing at Kamurocho’s local batting centre as well, but by then he was too attached to his detective business to really go through with it.

FAVOURITE TOURISTY THING TO DO WHEN TRAVELLING. Takayuki likes to research all the budget-friendly ways to travel beforehand, and if he’s sightseeing he sticks to schedules if only so he can see everything. If it’s a lazier type of trip, though, then he just likes to eat and walk, so long as he’s not spending a lot of money. He also really, really, really likes to take pictures. Everything is important to remember, after all.

FAVOURITE KIND OF WEATHER. Give him early spring weather any time, when things’re about to get warmer but it’s still a little cold from winter. Feeling the sun on his face and the cool air is a special kind of gift.

WEIRD / OBSCURE FEAR THEY HAVE. Nothing weird, really. Nothing scares him enough to stop him in his tracks, either, but he’ll probably hesitate if he has to deal with ghosts or spirits or anything related to the other side. The dead deserve to rest, not have idiots traipsing in on their business... but if he can find a way to help them find peace, that’s another story. A story that’ll give him the creeps, sure, but he’s never one to stay away.

THE CARNIVAL / ARCADE GAME THEY ALWAYS WIN WITHOUT FAIL. For carnival games, as long as it’s something that requires aiming and hitting something, Takayuki’s got the skill for it. For arcade games, though? He wins everything. Seriously. Takayuki chose Yagami Tantei’s location because it was near a Club SEGA... and also because his landlady was offering rent for cheap after he saved her dog, but you know how that goes. You’ll see a “TAK” on most of the leaderboards on Nakamichi St.’s Club SEGA just because he’s territorial about his #1 spot, and every time he sees it replaced he won’t hesitate to blow however much cash he has to get his spot back. Fortunately, he’s good enough at them that it’s never broken the bank.

Tagged by: @sixthxchairman thank u i owe u my life Tagging: @moldcursed (and taka’s 3 other boyfriends if u wanna do it for them LMAO), @thescaledqueen, @e-temmu, @backonmybullshit91 (john or frenchie or BOTH), @digitalmadness (tesso), anyone else who sees this and wants to give it a go tag me!!! i love reading headcanons hahah

[seasonofthewicth]

A Groovy Kind of Love - Chapter 6

AN: I feel like I’ve got my mojo back with this fic a little bit, this was so fun to write and I hope it’s fun to read too!

masterlist

------

First days were always nerve-racking, and this one was no different.

Aelin knew she had no real reason to be nervous other than the fact it was new, she had prepared what she needed, even taking extra time this morning to make sure she had put on a swipe of make-up and a smart outfit to feel primed for the day.

She’d taken it upon herself to wake Fenrys up half an hour earlier than normal to make sure he would be ready to leave on time, she knew he normally rocked up to the school right on the bell, but she needed to be at least five minutes early to meet the principal, lest she look unprepared.

Fenrys had left her outside the principal’s office, waiting for the woman to arrive, taking in the blue carpet of the floor and the wooden panels of the walls. The school was in an old building, with mostly traditional décor that gave it character unlike her old school. She liked it. Even though the chair she sat in was hard and uncomfortable as she shifted her weight while she waited for the principal to appear.

She had been thankful for Fenrys’ comforting presence in the car on their way, he had chattered away filling her in on the harmless school gossip, distracting her from her worries about the new school, but now he was gone, off to teach his own classes for the day, the nerves had settled back in.

He had been almost more excited than Aelin about her new role, glad to have her at the school, and he had championed most of the drinking the night she had found out. She had had a great night, each of her friends seemed genuinely happy for her and had toasted to her all night, even once she had gone to bed they had continued to celebrate.

She hadn’t managed to quiz Lysandra after her kiss with Aelin’s cousin, whenever Aedion came up between the two Lysandra had been quick to change the subject, embarrassed at her drunk actions and the fact that they had even played truth or dare at all.

Aedion had recovered well, from Lysandra’s determined ignorance of his existence every time she saw him since, and Aelin was relatively sure he had brought a guest home from the night she hadn’t made it out to and had instead gone to bed.

Gone to bed might have been putting it generously, she remembered the way Rowan had guided her to her room. A gentle hand making sure she didn’t stumble, tucking her sheets over her and leaving a glass of water for her to down in the morning.

Her heart gave a squeeze at how gentle he had been.

Heels clacked against the cheap flooring and she glanced up. The woman striding towards her was dressed smartly in a black pencil skirt and a navy blue blouse. She had a couple of decades on Aelin, but her dark locks didn’t have even a hint of grey, nor did her harsh face have the beginning of a wrinkle.

The woman strode up to Aelin and presented her with a hand.

“Miss Galathynius I presume? Welcome to our school.” Her voice was stern but polite and Aelin stood and shook the hand she was offered. “I’m Maeve Valg, Principal, we’re glad to have you on board. Please follow me.”

The woman, Maeve, led the way into the office Aelin had been sat outside. Aelin nodded, greeting the woman and following her in.

Inside the office it was tidy, shelves lined the walls, overflowing with books and files, but organised in a way that Aelin was jealous of. Her own organisation wasn’t lacking, it couldn’t be, as a teacher she needed to know where things were, but she could never reach this level of military-style precision.

The Principal took a seat behind the large wooden desk in the centre of the room and Aelin dropped to the seat on the other side, facing her.

“Welcome,” She said again, a polite smile on her lips.

“Thank you, it’s great to be here.” Aelin said, folding her hands in her lap.

First impressions were important, and she knew she’d be able to get away with much more at a later date if she gave Maeve the initial impression that she was to be trusted.

Maeve nodded.

“It’s great to have you here, I was impressed with your interview, and I’m confident that you will fit into our school ethos well.”

Aelin smiled. She knew from Fenrys that the school valued the community spirit and communication between teachers a departments, she was excited to get stuck in. She told Maeve as much and she received another slight smile.

A knock sounded at the door behind her and Maeve called for whoever was on the other side to come in.

“Ah yes,” Maeve said standing from behind her desk. “I’ve invited Mr Havilliard to show you around. He can give you a bit more information than I can as I have to attend a meeting now.”

Aelin turned to the man in the doorway and saw he was grinning at her.

He was as handsome as a Disney prince, his thick dark hair curled around his ears, and his deep blue eyes were striking and sparkling. She took in his clean white shirt and pressed trousers where he stood. He wasn’t as tall as her roommates, but he still tilted his chin to smile down at her.

“Dorian Havilliard.” He offered his hand. “At your service.”

She shook his hand. “Aelin Galathynius.”

He grinned at her even wider than before. “Follow me Aelin,” He turned to the door with a nod behind her at the principal.

“Thanks,” She smiled at the dark haired woman before following Dorian out the door.

Once in the hall, his posture relaxed, and Aelin adjusted hers in response. He led the way down the nearest hallway, the corridors empty of any students given that the first period had already begun.

“Don’t worry about her, she’s a hard ass, but you get used to it.” He told her, his voice was low and smooth.

“Right, good to know,” She joked. “I was worried.”

He shook his head. “Don’t be. She’s like that with me still and I’ve been here for years.”

She blinked; he couldn’t have been much older than her. He must have sensed her confusion, or seen the look that crossed her face, and said, “I’ve been here seven years, got the job straight out of college, worked my way up to be one of the assistant principals last year.”

Impressive, Aelin noted. He must have been at least couple of years older than her then, making him maybe thirty, if her quick mental maths added up.

“What do you teach?” She asked him, curious about that path he had taken to get where he was.

“English,” He told her. “I love it, have loved it since I was a kid.”

Aelin shared his interest, she had loved reading ever since her childhood and her mother had bought her book after book when she devoured the stories one by one. She supposed that was where her interest in history had stemmed from, reading historical fiction had led her to historical non-fiction and she found the tales of knights and kings and queens to be fascinating. Sweeping her away into tales of honour and warfare and romance, distant enough from her reality to transport her away.

They were making their way down the halls, Dorian pointing out the points of interest on their tour, telling her where the cafeteria was, where the main hall and staff rooms were. He showed her where her office would be, and they walked past the classroom that would become hers once she had time to make it her own.

“So,” He turned to her after walking her through the grounds of the school, showing her the sports pitches and athletics track. “What’s your story?”

She pondered his question for a moment, chewing the inside of her lip slightly as she took in his smile and the way he was walking close to her, his shoulders leaning into her own.

“My story?” She shrugged, flicking her eyes out across the field in front of her. “I lost my old job to budget cuts, but I’d been there for a couple of years. I actually moved here after college when I qualified and then got the job pretty much straight away.”

He nodded along as she spoke, a dark curl of his hair bobbing along his forehead as he did, but then he tilted his head at her, a piercing look in his sapphire-blue eyes.

“I knew you weren’t from around here, but I couldn’t place the accent.”

“I’m from Terrasen.” She told him, thinking fondly of her home country and her parents who lived there still. It’s rolling mountains and grassy plains that she had explored as a child, sometimes alone, sometimes with Aedion when him and his parents came to visit.

“My accent isn’t as strong now that I’ve been in Adarlan for so long.”

Dorian only smiled at her. “I like it.”

She smiled, unsure how else to respond. Was it wise to flirt with a colleague? She wasn’t truly sure she wanted to flirt with him, and she fought the part of her brain that flashed an image of Rowan up at her. She was trying her best to keep her distance, at least in that respect.

“I teach history, I love it, but I love reading too. I also live with Fenrys, I don’t know if you know him?”

“Fenrys?” He questioned. “Coach Moonbeam?”

She nodded and watched something flash across his face at the confirmation, something she’d have to ask Fenrys about. If his reputation had ruined her first friendship at the school before it had barely had chance to start she’d kill him.

“Yeah,” She confirmed warily. “We live together. He told me about the opening here.”

“I see.” She couldn’t place Dorian’s reaction to her roommate, so quickly changed the subject.

“Any advice for this school?” She asked as he held the door open for her to re-enter the building.

“Not really,” He huffed a slight laugh, scratching his jaw. “Stick with me, and a couple of other teachers here that are pretty sound, and you’ll be fine.”

“Yeah? You’ll have to introduce me.”

Maybe if she could make her own friends here she wouldn’t have to follow Fenrys around like a lost puppy.

He checked his watch, something silver and clearly expensive before saying, “Actually, I think some of them might be free now.”

He led her back through the hallways to the staff room he had pointed out earlier and pushed into the small room.

There were kitchen counters around the sides, a number of cupboards no doubt stuffed full of mugs and plates, standard for a school staff room. There were tables and chairs dotted about the space and at one of the tables sat a man and two women, each nursing a mug that based on the smell she knew contained coffee.

“Aelin,” Dorian began. “Meet Chaol, Yrene and Nehemia.”

He pointed around the table as he made the introductions.

The man, Chaol, was stern looking but his expression lightened when he offered her a small smile, his copper-brown eyes crinkling at the motion. The woman next to him smiled widely at Aelin, Yrene, was beautiful, and her brown hair fell in spirals down her back, golden highlights standing out. A shining ring on her left hand glinted as she waved at Aelin around her mug.

The final woman, Nehemia, was striking. Her dark skin was smooth and her raven hair, braided down her back, had small elements of gold scattered throughout. Nehemia shot her a sly grin upon introduction, Aelin liked her immediately.

“Guys meet Aelin Galathynius. The new head of humanities, Terrasen native and Fenrys Moonbeam’s roommate.”

At Dorian’s introduction Chaol nearly choked on a mouthful of coffee and Nehemia outright cackled. Aelin needed to ask Fenrys about it.

“Hi Aelin,” Yrene smiled at her, her face kind as she waved a hand at the teachers on either side of herself. “Ignore them, welcome. How is your first day going?”

“It’s fine so far,” Aelin said as she followed Dorian over to where he was fetching a cup of coffee and grabbing her own. “I’ve had a great tour.”

Nehemia laughed again, “Right.” She said sarcastically and Dorian flashed her the finger.

“Where did he show you? I’m sure he probably managed to leave somewhere out,” Chaol cut in, his tone ribbing Dorian again.

“Everywhere, I think. Or at least I’d hope so.” She said, taking her seat next to him, Dorian slotting in on her other side.

“Hmm,” Chaol hummed, shooting an unimpressed look at Dorian who held his hands up, grinning at Chaol.

“I did!” Dorian protested to Chaol who rolled his eyes and sighed a laugh. Aelin laughed along, she could tell Chaol was exasperated, but fond of Dorian.

The dynamic between the group was easy, friendly and teasing, but clearly a very tight knit group. Chaol and Yrene were an adorable couple, very much in love, Dorian had sung at her when she had asked. Nehemia had a killer sense of humour, mostly at Dorian’s expense, but he always laughed along, taking the jokes in his stride.

He had been extremely friendly towards her. Filling all of the gaps in her knowledge without her needing to ask, touching her gently on the arm when he directed the conversation to her.

He was an extremely attractive man, with a charming kind of confidence that she normally would have been all over. Had she met him in a bar, she could see herself sliding into the seat next to him and flashing him a small smile while she accepted the drink he would have offered to buy her.

But they weren’t in a bar, they were at work, and he was technically her boss.

She could hear Lysandra’s warnings, you know it’s a bad idea, she would tut before reassuring Aelin she could find a man anywhere else, that she didn’t need Dorian and his disarming smiles.

Lysandra, as per usual, was probably right.

------

The rest of her day flew by quickly. She had a brief introduction to her classes from Maeve, fresh out of her meeting with the school board, and she had had some time to move her belongings and teaching aids into her classroom. Tomorrow would be her first full day of teaching and she was prepared.

It was only later that evening that she remembered to ask Fenrys about Dorian and his friends’ reactions to his name, even though they had driven home together he had filled the journey with tales of his students and their inabilities to play simple games.

She cornered him in the kitchen as he grabbed a beer from the fridge, resting her hand against the island, blocking his exit as she asked.

“Dorian Havilliard?” He questioned; his face carefully blank.

“Yes, do you know him? He had an interesting reaction to your name.”

More than just that, his friends had outright laughed at Dorian when Fenrys’ name had been mentioned. Surely all of the outlandish situations her imagination was telling her were way off, it had to be something small.

Fenrys sighed, taking a swig of his beer and lifting a hand to rub the back of his neck.

“Dorian Havilliard and I have a history.” He winced as he said the words.

Aelin groaned. She could try to repair any fights they had had; she knew she could definitely blackmail Fenrys into an apology, she liked Dorian and his friends.

“What kind of a history?” She narrowed her eyes.

A blush started on Fenrys’ neck, spreading up to his cheeks.

“A… sexual history.”

“No!” She gasped.

She ran through the interactions she and Dorian had had today. She felt a blush creeping up her cheeks, she had thought he had been flirting with her, complimenting her accent and the way he had been leaning into her. How had she read it so wrong? And Fenrys had a… history with him?

Fenrys bit his lip as he nodded.

“Oh gods,” She groaned, pressing a hand to her forehead. “I thought he was flirting with me.”

Fenrys shrugged, unbothered by both her reaction and his own revelation. “He probably was, to be fair. He flirts with everyone.”

It was that moment that Rowan chose to come into the kitchen.

She fought the small wave of embarrassment at the sight of him, at the thought of the conversation they had had when she thanked him for putting her to bed. She hadn’t been sure whether to mention it or not but decided it would have been worse to not acknowledge it.

He had been graceful, reassuring her with a small smile that it was no bother. Which she appreciated, had the roles been switched she would have made sure he got to bed. Well, she would have tried.

And she was grateful, any of her other roommates probably would have left her on the couch. Lorcan probably would have even taken photos of her passed out, probably would have enjoyed seeing how many things he could have balanced on her sleeping form.  

“Who flirts with everyone?” He asked, stepping around her to get to the fridge.

He was dressed in his usual uniform of jeans and a flannel shirt; this one was green, and it complemented his silver hair.

“Fenrys’ ex, one of the teachers at the school.” She told him, but Fenrys shook his head around a mouthful of his beer.

“Not my ex,” He said once he had swallowed. “It was a one-time thing. Years ago.”

It reassured her slightly that she hadn’t been crazy, and that she had probably picked up on the cues from Dorian correctly.

“He was flirting with you?” Rowan turned to her, pulling his own beer out of the fridge, his tan face unreadable.

“I think so,” She pursed her lips.

“Oh,” Rowan’s voice was quiet, and he looked down to the beer in his hand.

“It was probably nothing,” She found herself saying. “I wasn’t flirting back.”

“You could.” Fenrys said from beside her. “It would be fine with me, he’s a decent enough guy. Good in bed too.”

She pushed him on the arm, and he laughed.

“Didn’t need to know that,” She laughed as she pushed his arm again when he made a suggestive gesture at her. “Get out that’s gross.”

“Didn’t think you were a prude, Galathynius.” He teased, but turned from the room, blowing a kiss at her as he left.

She turned to Rowan, who remained leaning against the counter opposite her, picking at the label on his beer bottle.

“Office romance on day one, huh?” He teased her, his lips twitching with the smirk that was threatening to break through.

“Stop that,” She told him. “It was very light flirting.”

He shrugged at her, taking a sip of his beer.  

“If that even, he probably wasn’t. Or maybe I’m making it up.”

“Now you stop.” Rowan told her; his eyebrows drawn as he pushed off from the counter. “Why wouldn’t he have been flirting with you?”

She raised her eyebrow at him, unimpressed, daring him to continue.

“I’m serious,” He continued, stepping over until he was directly in front of her.

Every time they were close she was struck by how much bigger he was than her. And how good he smelled, his pine and snow combination was clean and fresh, she took a deep breath in.

“Why wouldn’t he want to flirt with you?”

She tilted her head up to look at him, suddenly vulnerable in what had previously been a light-hearted conversation, taking in his serious expression. His eyes were earnest as he looked into her own.

“I don’t know,” She started, not drawing her eyes away from his. She wasn’t sure she was able to. “After Arobynn I haven’t been flirted with for a while.”

She loosed a self-deprecating laugh.

He put his beer down on the counter, resting his hand on the counter by her side, his front was almost pressed up against hers now and her breaths came quickly.

“Of course you have,” He told her, his voice soft. “Maybe you just haven’t noticed.”

She swallowed hard.

He picked up a piece of her hair between two of his fingers, smiling gently as he twisted the strand around a knuckle. Aelin liked his smile, it showed a lighter side of him, and he looked especially handsome when he did.

“I think I would notice if guys had been flirting with me.” Her voice was rough as his other hand came down on the bench by her waist. He boxed her in to the island now, close enough to her to share breath, as he hummed in response.

Her heart was pounding in her chest, and she felt as if an electric current was thrumming below her skin at his close proximity.

“I’m not convinced.” His voice rumbled over her skin, his breath brushing her ear sending shivers down her spine as she tucked her chin down at the sensation. Her action pinned Rowan’s face in the crook of her neck, but he didn’t pull away, instead he pressed his face into the spot where her shoulder met her neck, breathing her in deeply.

His lips brushed against her neck, their touch feather light.

Aelin couldn’t move. She was sure she was panting now; Rowan’s own breaths had increased their pace where she felt his chest pressing against her own. Each brush lighting sparks along her skin.

She needed to be careful, this would look incriminating to any of their roommates if they walked in now, but she couldn’t connect her brain to her body.

While her rational brain was screaming at her to step away and put some distance between herself and Rowan, her traitorous body urged her to press closer into Rowan. Urged her to press her hips against his own and generate the friction she craved.

Rowan’s brain seemed to work faster than her own as he drew his head back with a hiss, leaning on his heels to put some distance between them. She felt the cold where her body now touched only air.

His green eyes were dark, almost taken over by his pupils as he scanned her face.

He cleared his throat and picked his beer back up of the island.

“I think you’d notice.” He told her with a hint of a smile.

He stepped back from her fully and left the kitchen without another word. She heard his bedroom door close before she managed to breathe again.

She screwed her eyes shut as she squeezed her thighs together, trying to convince herself she felt nothing.

He was a rutting good flirt, damn him. She definitely noticed.

------

tags:

@jesstargaryenqueen​

@maybekindasortaace​

@slytheringalathynius​

@http-itsrebecca​

@morganofthewildfire​

@in-love-with-caramel-macchiato​

@fictional-horan​

@tottenhamboys20​

@dressedindustandshadows​

@sleeping-and-books​

@perseusannabeth​

@ireallyshouldsleeprn​

@superspiritfestival​

@aelinfeyreeleven945tbln​

@spyofthenightcourt​

@jlinez​

@queen-of-glass​

@booknerdproblems​

I’ve combined the tag list for this fic and general tog for ease, but I’m not convinced I’ve done it right so let me know if I need to make any changes.

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[misssophiachase]

For @klaroline-events​​ KC Bingo - School on FF and AO3

When his Porsche convertible blows a tire, private school student Klaus Mikaelson needs it fixed. Enter townie and daughter of the local mechanic, Caroline Forbes.

The Preppy and the Townie

Friday PM, Forbes Garage, Exeter, NH

“Excuse me?” Klaus hadn’t frequented this part of town all that much during his time at Phillips Exeter Academy and given the outdated exterior he wasn’t sure if it was still operational or if he’d stepped back in time.

It was eerily quiet and the small gas station on the outskirts of the town centre seemed unattended. He’d blown the tire on his Porsche not far down the road but had managed to get there just in time.

Given he attended the local boarding school, cars weren’t usually allowed on campus but his father had sent it the other day in lieu of his presence. Mikael Mikaelson never quite understood the concept of fatherhood and considered monetary gifts an alternative way to show affection. 

Klaus also knew there was another reason for his guilt but pushed it to the back of his mind, it was easier that way. 

“Can I help you?” Her voice was gruff, bored and almost resentful of the intrusion. Klaus turned to the source not expecting her to be so indescribable.

And he meant that in a very good way.  

Her denim shorts were frayed at the edges, her white, fitted tank covered in black, grease stains and a red, checked shirt tied around her waist was doing nothing to hide a delectable pair of creamy, toned legs.

“Hey jackass, my eyes are up here,” she barked.

Yes, they were. Blue, expressive and teamed with her golden waves pulled back into a high ponytail, Klaus didn’t think he’d seen anyone so breathtaking in his life.

He didn’t usually stare so obviously at girls, generally it was the other way around, but he couldn’t stop if he tried.

“Is that how you speak to all your customers?”

“Only the ones who look at me like that.”

“And how exactly am I looking at you, love?”

“You know exactly how you’re looking at me,” she countered. “You’re not the first and I know you won’t be the last. Also, I have a name but before you do the completely predictable thing and ask what it is, I’m not going to tell you.”

“That’s quite a speech you seem to have prepared there,” he offered. “Is there any point in me asking about my tire then?”

“If you can’t fix it, then sure, I can do that for you.”

“Are you insinuating that I can’t change a tire?”

“Well, if the shoe fits,” she responded, shrugging her shoulders. Klaus wanted to be offended, he wanted to dislike her immensely and tell her so but there was no hope in hell of that happening.

“Actually, I can change a tire but I don’t have a jack on me,” she snorted by way of response. “You are incredibly judgemental, anyone ever tell you that?”

“Oh, p-uh-lease,” she drawled. “Your type swan around this town like you own it but, newsflash, you don’t. We’ll all be here long after you’ve finished school and left town.”

“I don’t swan, number one,” he replied, “and number two, I don’t think I own your town, even though it is lovely, especially during the Fall.” He held her gaze, and he could see her face soften slightly. But, unfortunately, it didn’t last long. 

”How about we just stick to the tire,” she murmured begrudgingly. “If you’re lucky, I’ll even give you some pointers.”  

Saturday PM, Front Row Pizza

“So, tell me more about this hottie from Philips?” Kat asked, handing a customer their slices on a plate.

Katherine Pierce was her oldest friend and the two had been working at Front Row the past two years. Saturday was their busiest night of the week but thankfully business was starting to slow down. 

“Shhh, would you keep your voice down,” she hissed, wiping the counter and keeping her head down to avoid any embarrassment. “You know how small this place is at the best of times.”

“I didn’t name names, mainly because you haven’t told me yet,” Kat muttered. 

“He’s your typical, preppy jock, nothing groundbreaking around these parts. And I never said he was a hottie, nor would I ever use that term.”

“No, I found that out when I visited the garage this morning and spoke to your DILF.”

“Kat, please don’t talk about my dad like that, it’s extremely disgusting,” she growled. “And when exactly did he decide that Klaus was...”

“Oooh, he has a name. So, tell me more about him and his Porsche?” 

Caroline fought the urge to roll her eyes. As much as she loved her best friend, Kat liked the finer things in life a little too much. Sure, their upbringing was relatively simple in comparison to people like Klaus but Caroline didn’t need money to define who she was and what she wanted out of life. 

“He blew out his tire.”

“Wow, how exciting,” she pouted. “You never tell me anything.”

“He’s English and his surname is Mikaelson, happy?”

“Not in the slightest, next thing I know you’ll tell me his favourite colour,” she pretended to yawn. “Okay, one last question and then I’ll leave you alone for a full five minutes. How would you score him on a scale of one to ten?”  

“It’s blue, well actually it’s more of a french navy if I’m being specific,” a familiar voice interrupted. Caroline closed her eyes wishing she could melt into a puddle on the floor. Of all the times for him to just show up. “As for a score, I think it’s probably best Caroline takes that one.”

She really shouldn’t have told him her name. Why did it have to sound so good rolling off his tongue too? Damn his English accent and those dimples. Why hadn’t she noticed just how disarming they were yesterday?

“If it isn’t the hottie,” Kat smiled, turning to face Caroline giving her an extremely indiscreet thumbs up. “It’s okay, no score necessary, I can work it out just fine on my own.” 

Before Caroline could really die of embarrassment, Katherine had conveniently flounced away to make it even more awkward. 

If she thought he looked good yesterday in his school uniform sans tie with his shirt sleeves rolled up, he was absolutely gorgeous today. Dark jeans, sitting low on his hips and a navy henley that only accentuated his eyes.  

“She’s, uh, friendly.”

“That’s one way of putting it,” Caroline agreed. “Are you following me or something?”

“Someone has an incredibly high opinion of themselves,” he said, cocking his left eyebrow. “Maybe I was just hungry, did you ever think of that?”

“Did my dad tell you where I was?” She asked, arms crossed over her chest. “I noticed you two talking yesterday, but here I thought he was just drooling over your speedster.”

“He may have mentioned that Front Row has the best four cheese pizza in town,” he shared. “You know, while he was drooling.”

“Just because you think you can charm my father with your expensive car, doesn’t mean I’m powerless to your charms.”

“My charms?” He smirked, leaning closer. “Are you trying to flirt with me?”

“If you think that’s flirting then I need to teach you more than how to change a tire,” she scoffed. “Now, would you like to order something? The kitchen is going to be closing soon and I can only take so much of your over inflated ego in a confined space.”

“Your customer service skills really are second to none, love,” he laughed, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. She wanted to hate him so much but Caroline swore those crimson lips had superpowers of some kind. 

“Sorry, what?” She asked, noticing he’d said something but not quite sure what it was. 

“My over inflated ego and I would like a four cheese pizza to have here,” he joked, his knowing smile telling her she’d been caught out. 

“You are taking it to go,” she demanded, scared of what his lips might do next. 

“I think I’m going to nominate you for employee of the month,” he suggested, taking a seat and making himself at home. “There’s something about your rare skill of being charming but rude at the same time.”

“Kat, can you tell the kitchen there’s an order up,” she called out, not bothering to respond to his remark. “To go.”

“If I agree to leave this fine establishment, how about you do something for me?”

“I changed your tire yesterday and I’m now serving you pizza today,” he attempted to interrupt but Caroline continued. “And before you try to be cute about my impeccable, customer service skills, it’s abundantly clear that, if anything, you owe me, Mikaelson.”

“I was getting to that part,” he promised. “I was hoping you could come to the river tomorrow morning and help me out with my rowing?”

“Excuse me?” Caroline wasn’t expecting that. “I’m curious about what exactly the preppy needs help with?”

“Motivation,” he murmured, his double meaning not lost on her. “Coach says I won’t be up to championships if I can’t improve my times. So, I figured what better way to do that then have you yelling at me from the bow?”  

Katherine let out a not-so-subtle groan from the nearest table. Caroline really shouldn’t have been surprised she was eavesdropping. “Be careful what you wish for, french navy.” 

“I’m willing to take my chances, Katherine,” he smiled in her direction before returning his attention back to Caroline. She really wanted to hate him and his smug, good looking ass but it was becoming more and more difficult. Now, she knew why her best friend and father were so easily convinced. 

“Can I push you in the water if you annoy me?” He took her by surprise and laughed. Caroline had to admit she liked hearing it. 

“I think we’ll need to define what’s annoying from the outset but you’ve got a deal.”

“Well, when you put it like that.”

Sunday AM, The Exeter River

“You need to keep your back flat and make sure your core is engaged,” Caroline offered from the front of the boat.” Now that instruction Klaus wasn’t expecting. 

“Trust me, my core is very engaged,” he teased, unable to help himself. 

Klaus was still shocked she’d agreed to come today, he figured it had everything to do with pushing him in the water. Which luckily she hadn’t done...yet. 

“I think we decided that innuendo was annoying.”

“You decided that and who said it’s innuendo? I was merely confirming the fact that my core is, in fact, engaged. And let’s not forget you asked the question.”

“It’s textbook rowing technique and that smirk you gave me was a dead giveaway.”

She looked stunning today, the breeze blowing through her blonde waves that were loose and flowing. Her make-up free face, simple t-shirt and shorts only highlighting her natural beauty. 

“How do you know so much about rowing?” Klaus was surprised, given she didn’t indicate any interest the night before. 

“I might have dated one of you before.”

“One of me?” Klaus was immediately offended by her reply. “I didn’t realise I had a twin.”

“He went to Philips and was on the rowing team too. But instead of a Porsche he had a Mercedes.”

“Wow, you really know how to hurt a guy,” he shot back, unable to disguise his disappointment. “Is this why you’ve been so hostile?” He stopped rowing needing to know the answer.

“I haven’t been…” 

“Yes, you have,” he interrupted. “I don’t know what this guy did to you but…”

“I don’t think that’s any of your business.”

“Perhaps not but I’d hate for you to unfairly judge me based on some idiot who couldn’t see what was right in front of him.”

“I’m a townie, yes my house is only a few kilometres away, but we lived in totally different worlds,” she murmured, her gaze downcast. “He had a trust fund bigger than I could ever imagine and I work two jobs just so I can afford college if I don’t get a scholarship. I stupidly thought that someone like him actually liked me.”

“Well, he’s an idiot and you’re not stupid.” His hand was on hers before he had time to think. “I get you’ve had a bad experience but I’m not who you think I am.” She faltered, her eyes finding his again. “Ask me anything.”

“Can I push you in the water?”

“Cute.”

“On Friday, you didn’t seem to care too much about your new car, why is that? At first I assumed it was the fact you had another ten of them waiting at home in your garage.”

“Only two,” he admitted. “But I’m not really that enthused about them either.”

“What happened?”

“My mother died last year, my siblings are scattered around the country at different colleges and schools and my father sent the car in lieu of his presence at Philip’s family weekend. We’ve never been that close but I guess I thought…”

“He’d want to see you.”

“It’s ridiculous I know.”

“It’s not,” she smiled, placing her other hand over his. “You know what is silly though? How lazy you’re being, now get moving before I push you into the water, Mikaelson.”

Turns out they both ended up in the water that day but neither minded. Klaus won the rowing championship with plenty of core engagement instruction from Caroline. He also sent back the Porsche to his father because he didn’t need it anymore, he had everything he needed right there. 

[yes-clearpath-network-infotech]

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[yuzusorbet]

My Sendai Holiday (April 2018) - Part 2:  Ice Rink Sendai

Part 1 was about Yuzuru’s Olympic Victory Parade, the main purpose of my trip. The other purpose was to just enjoy being in Yuzu’s hometown.  After I became his fan (since 2014 Sochi Olympics), Sendai is a place that I often saw in photos and videos and read about (and translated about), and so I have been wanting to visit for the longest time.  The 2018 victory parade made it the perfect time to go.  Yuzu said during one press conference, “By all means, please come to Sendai and spend some money.”   And so I did!  :D 

(It’s another one of my VERY long posts, haha.  I want to remember all my emotions and all the wonderful things that I experienced.) 

--------------------------

My first afternoon in Sendai, I had no plans but my heart was yearning to go to Yuzu’s home rink.  I knew I would be going there the next day with a friend Ella, but I realised I couldn’t wait!  This is the rink where Yuzu grew up, the rink that he loves, the rink that he donates all his royalties from his 2 autobiographies to (‘Aoi Hono’ 1 & 2).   It was recently renovated (in the 2nd half of 2017) with ideas/suggestions from him and Shizuka Arakawa.   So I found myself going to the tourist information centre in Sendai Station to get directions to Ice Rink Sendai.  (The tourist info centre is awesome!  Photo above.  There is staff who speak very good English.  I did not need to use my Japanese at all.)

There are 2 ways to get to the rink and I chose the 50-minute bus ride.  I wanted to relax on the bus and see the neighbourhood and eat my ‘zunda mochi’ and ‘zunda pudding’ (Sendai specialty, sweet deserts made from edamame, bought from a shop in the station)  (Yuzu ate zunda mochi in ‘Weekend Sendai’ photo shoot).  It was a delicious and scenic ride.  

Photo above: Nanakita River and Yurtec Stadium, home to J.League club Vegalta Sendai (and also to Vegatta-kun, the eagle mascot that loves Yuzu very much xD).  Being in the Nanakita area means the rink is near!

After alighting at the right stop (I checked with the bus driver to be sure), I looked around wondering where the rink was.... then I saw this ‘Fun-te’ sign;  Ice Rink Sendai’s name and logo is there too! 

Turning right at the sign, soon I saw a familiar building.

I am here!!!  The rink that I’ve seen in videos and photos, and read so much about!  There was a banner hanging down one side: “Congratulations, Hanyu Yuzuru senshu, gold medal”.

After entering through the glass doors, I saw this beautiful sight.......

Along the left wall was a Yuzu-in-kimono standee and LOTS of messages on the wall.  They were support messages to Yuzu written before PyeongChang Olympics.  Many of them were written on specially made oval-shaped paper with the words “PyeongChang 2018 Olympics; Ganbare!! Hanyu-senshu!!” at the top of the paper.  The photo below is a close-up of 2 such messages.  

These two were written by members of Pandalion, the Sendai group that composed cheer songs for Yuzu for both Olympics.  One message says ‘Forever supporting you!!’ and the other says ‘You are a phoenix!!’ (the kanji is literally: You are the bird that never dies!)   I was so touched reading the messages.  They were all written during the long silent period when Yuzu was recovering from injury.  The people here kept on believing in him (and I’m so proud to say I did too).  

Next to all the support messages was a whiteboard with Yuzu’s messages from past years.  The first one has no date but I saw a photo of it a long time back.  It says: ‘Even though we are apart, our hearts are one!!  Everyone “forward”!!  I will also work harder and become strong!’  (my translation) And he signs off with a little mushroom drawing next to his name.  Reading it, I felt again how much he loves his hometown and how difficult it was for him to leave Sendai to train in Toronto.  (His desire to become a better skater was so strong, he knew sacrifices had to be made.)   The other 2 messages are from 2014 (thanking everyone for their support) and 2017 (congratulations on the 10th anniversary).  

Further down this left wall was the entrance to a little exhibition gallery with photos and memorabilia of Shizuka Arakawa and Yuzuru.  Photo-taking is not allowed in this part.  But here are 3 photos from news sources (thanks to ElenaC):  

The cutest thing was a pair of small, black skating boots with a name labeled on the blades, ‘はにゅう ゆづる’ (’Hanyu Yuzuru’ in hiragana)..... could be his earliest pair of skates!     

On the right side near the entrance is the ticket machine and the reception counter.   You buy a 200-yen ticket if you want to enter the rink area to look around and watch people skate.  If you want to rent a pair of skates and do some actual skating, you buy the 1700-yen ticket.    

Straight ahead were glass panels and a set of glass doors that lead to the ice rink.  There is a sign on the door saying photography is not allowed inside.  The young lady at the reception counter explained that it is for protecting the privacy of the children skating there.

It was quiet and peaceful on this day of my 1st visit.   In the reception/exhibition area, there were only 3 or 4 people slowly looking at the messages, photos and exhibits.  After spending some time here, I bought a 200 yen ticket and entered the area where the rink is.  

There were many skaters in the rink.  The first things that caught my eyes were 2 big posters of Yuzu on the opposite side of the rink;  they were the ‘Aoi Hono’ posters (Book 1 and 2).... wow..... so beautiful......  I walked around and then I sat down on one of the viewing benches to watch the skating.  Most of the skaters were school children having skate lessons after school.  

After a while, a lady who looked familiar entered the rink and started to coach a group of children.  It was Nanami Abe-sensei!!!!  Aww....... I felt so happy to see her!  The coach who was with Yuzu in so many of his earlier videos, the coach who was in tears after his legendary R&J in Nice 2012, the great coach that I have read so much about...... my heart was just so moved to see her for real in person.  She was in a longish black down jacket, with short cropped hair and black-framed specs.  

Pic below:  there is a photo of her in the poster on the right, and a photo of her and other coaches of Ice Rink Sendai. The poster on the left shows the exhibition area before the renovation of the rink.  (These posters are in the outer area where the message board is.)

She was coaching a group of children who looked about 12 years old to early teens (about 5 girls and 1 boy).   I just sat there watching them, feeling very happy and contented. 

After some time, I suddenly I heard Nanami-sensei saying in Japanese, “Photos are not allowed.  Please do not take photos.”  I realised that 2 ladies sitting on a bench near me were using their handphones to take photos.  Oops..... maybe they forgot that it was not allowed in here.  Nanami-sensei then came out of the ice rink and was now walking towards our benches!  She went to the ladies and said politely but firmly, “Please delete the photos that you took.”  They were not Japanese but Nanami-sensei just repeated herself until they understood.  She stood there and watched them as they deleted the photos in their phones, and then she went back into the rink and continued with her class.  Wow..... that was so cool!!!  She is so cool!!!  I sat there watching her with a HUGE amount of respect and feeling even more in awe of her!  (And I couldn’t help feeling a little scared of her too, haha!) 

I stayed there watching the skaters until it was closing time (6pm).  Of course, I was tempted to skate as well.  But I know I can’t skate to save my life and the ice is so hard..... I was afraid of falling and breaking something and not being able to go for Yuzu’s victory parade!  I decided I would just have to come back here another day after the parade. :)) 

The next day was Saturday, ie. the day before the parade.  My friend Ella had arrived in Sendai and I came to the rink with her.  What a big difference today.... there was a long queue to go in!  (The rink would be closed on parade day itself.) Pic below:  I was waiting in line near the main entrance when I took this photo. The glass doors at the end lead to the ice rink.  The banner hung above the doors says “PyeongChang Olympics 2018 figure skating Japan representative, Hanyu Yuzuru senshu, gold medal congratulations”.   

Pic below: I was now inside and I took this photo from the opposite direction.

Because it was crowded, we didn’t stay long.  Ella had a good look at the whole place and we both knew we would come back again soon.   So we headed to a very nice Starbucks nearby and relaxed there with our frappuccinos.  

Next to it was a big bookshop with a poster of Yuzu’s book ‘Yume wo Ikiru’ prominently displayed outside.  Of course, we went in for a while. :) 

Lots of beautiful books inside. :) 

For the return journey in the afternoon, there were no buses that go to Sendai Station (they only run in the morning with a last bus at 1.35pm).  It’s a short bus ride or a 20-min walk to the nearest station ‘Izumi Chuo Station’ and then take the subway.  (Note: bus schedules may change according to month/season.)

Next day = Yuzu’s Parade Day = the hottest day ever recorded for April in Sendai.  After the parade, the next few days were grey and rainy.  I was so grateful thinking back to parade day...... thank God it was hot and sunny!  (link to my parade day post is at the bottom of this post)  With the parade over, it was safe to do some ice skating!   So one rainy day, I went back to Ice Rink Sendai.

My initial plan was to take a walk around the Nanakita area, have a look at Nanakita Elementary School (that Yuzu attended) and Nanakita Park (where Yuzu sat on a bench in ‘Weekend Sendai’ mag), and then head to the rink.  But it was not good weather for being outdoors.  I decided to go to the rink first; maybe the rain would stop later and I could go to the park and the school after skating.  

Pic below: on the way there by bus again.

In Ice Rink Sendai, the staff at the reception counter were the same ladies that I saw on the other 2 days, and one of them remembered me from my previous visits!  haha, that made me so happy! :D  

I handed them 2 postcards for Yuzu, one written on behalf of the FB International Fan Group and one from myself.  The staff said they would pass them to him. :)  Then one of them helped me with the purchase at the ticket machine;  I paid 300 yen for a pair of plain grey gloves (mascot Irene gloves were out of stock but it’s ok cos I do have a pair at home) and 1700 yen for skating and rental of skates.  I asked her “how many hours”, I thought it would be for 2 or 3 hours, but she said, “Until closing time.” Oh wow!  You mean I can skate here the whole day???  Glad the rain made me come here earlier than planned!

Then she asked me if I wanted a ‘point card’ even though I may not be able to use it -- you get a stamp for each session, and 5 stamps will give you one free session.   I had told her on my first visit that I don’t live in Japan and I came because of the parade, so she knew it would be hard for me to make use of it (card expires in one year).  It was so nice of her to offer me one.... I told her I would keep it as a souvenir.  How I wish I could skate here 5 times a year!  

I entered the area of the rink.  It was so quiet!  There were only 3 adults skating as most children were still in school; their lessons would start later in the afternoon.  For now, it felt like I had the whole rink to myself!   I went to the rental skates counter and the staff helped me to get the right size of skate boots.  

Then, one thing really, really surprised me.  The staff actually asked a coach to look after me for a while!  A female coach with a very kind and sweet face came to me as I was wearing my skates and said she would give me some guidance.  Wow..... what a kind gesture from them!!!  I was so touched!  Thank you, staff-san and sensei!!!

Pic below:  I am ready to skate!

Sensei showed me how to get onto the ice safely and how to move forward and how not to fall.  We went very slowly round the rink together as I practised what she showed me.   At first, I was very nervous and afraid of falling.... I know how painful it is!  Then I started to get more comfortable on the ice and more confident, thanks to her instructions.  And I love the ice!!!  It was very dry throughout and very nice to skate on.  I moved slowly around the rink, with Sensei patiently skating next to me.   

Sensei was so warm and friendly, and chatted to me as we skated. (Once again, I felt very thankful that my Japanese is good enough for a decent conversation.)  She said she loves skating and she has been teaching here for many years.   I told her that I have been a Yuzu-fan since Sochi Olympics and I had come to Sendai for the victory parade and I really wanted to visit his home rink.  So here I was!  She was very happy to hear that and thanked me for coming.  Then she told me that she was already coaching here when Yuzu was a little boy and he was so cute with his mushroom hair!  Oh WOW!!!!!  I am skating with someone who knew him as a kid!!!  I felt so privileged to have her company!  We started to talk about how great he is, not only as a skater, but as a person as well.  It was very obvious that Sensei is extremely proud of him. :)   She also told me some funny anecdotes.  She said that among the little kids that she teaches now, the boys say, “When I grow up, I want to be Hanyu-kun.”   And the girls say, “When I grow up, I want to marry Hanyu-kun.”  Hahaha....... SO CUTE!!!!!

As my ‘lesson’ progressed, children and teens started to arrive at the rink for their lessons.  As we continued to skate slowly round the rink, students would skate up to greet Sensei.  She responded to each one with a gentle nod and a smile. These were all her former students, she told me.  What lovely students, I thought.  So well-mannered and respectful...... just like a guy I know. Ci  

Then Sensei said it was time for her to get ready for her lesson with some children, so she would leave me to practice on my own.  I thanked her profusely for her kindness and she replied that she really enjoyed teaching me. :D  

Before she went off, she made sure I was ok.  Told me that if I feel cold, there is a ‘warm room’ where I can enter with my skates and sit for a while.  If I am hungry, there is a lounge where I can get food and have a rest, but no skates allowed there so I need to change back into my normal shoes for that room. She also said there are a lot of Yuzu’s books and magazines there so I should go and take a look!!!  haha.... Sensei really understands the heart of a fan!  Ice-resurfacing was going to start at 3pm;  no skating for 30 minutes, perfect time to head to the lounge!   

If you want to see the place, here is a link with 3 news videos:  twitter.  And this is an English news article with a few photos. 

The lounge is a very comfortable place with neat rows of tables and chairs.  And there are really a lot of Yuzu’s books and magazines there! Nicely displayed on a few low shelves that encircle a cosy sitting area further inside.

WOWWWW......................

I CAN STAY HERE ALL DAY........

There were vending machines selling drinks and hot food.  I got a box of ‘yaki onigiri’ (grilled rice balls which I love), selected a few mags and sat by the huge glass windows that look out towards the rink.  “Itadakimasu!”   

What a perfect meal.

Soon, the zamboni had done its job and the skaters were out on the ice again.  I found it so hard to leave the lounge..... I wanted to look through ALL the magazines first!  But the rink closes at 6pm..... there was not much time left to skate.  So after spending a bit more time on the mags, I tore myself away and went back outside to put on my skates.  

Now there were several coaches on the ice and different classes were going on. I waved to Sensei who was teaching a tiny little boy..... awww Yuzu must have been like that when he started.....  And then, I saw Nanami-sensei again!  She came into the rink and started to coach a group of older children.  I continued to skate slowly round and round the rink, trying my best NOT to stare and to concentrate on my own practice.  I admire her so much as a coach and choreographer that I couldn’t help feeling excited to be skating near her. xD 

The older children were practising jumps and spins.  There were also a few adults skating.  Everyone was so good and I must have stuck out like a sore thumb.  But surprisingly, I was not embarrassed nor self-conscious.  I think I must have been too overwhelmed with happiness to feel anything else. :D

Too soon, it was closing time.  I returned my skates and thanked the staff for their help and kindness.  I went outside and saw that it was still raining!!!  And I had totally forgotten about checking the weather and trying to go to Nanakita-koen, haha!   

I was putting up the hood of my parka when I heard someone call my name.  It was the coach who had taught me..... Sensei!   She asked me where I was going and I told her I was going to take the bus and then the subway to Yaotome Station.  ‘Rikyu’, a restaurant near there has very delicious grilled liver and beef tongue, and also Yuzu’s signature, haha.  And then, I got another HUGE surprise of the day.... she said she could send me there in her car!!!  I quickly declined her offer, gosh how could I trouble her!  But she assured me that the restaurant was on her way. She also said it was getting dark very quickly because of the rainy weather and she would worry about me trying to look for it in the dark.  And again insisted it was no trouble for her as she was going that way.  Awww...... Sensei, you’re too kind for words!!!  I asked her to join me for dinner but she said she had to run some errands, so she couldn’t.  We went to her car which was parked in the huge parking area outside Ice Rink Sendai and I had a very quick and comfortable journey to the restaurant.  Sensei, domo arigato gozaimashita!!!  

(Note of caution in case there are very young fans reading this: do NOT get into a car with someone you don’t know.)

(Photo above:  I took this photo of the restaurant after I waved goodbye to Sensei and I was waiting to cross the road.  There was a light drizzle.)

What a rainy day.... but oh how grateful I am for it!  It made me spend the whole afternoon at Yuzu’s home rink and I experienced the immense warmth and kindness of the people there!   Thank you, Ice Rink Sendai!  Thank you, Sensei!   

Part 1: victory parade day Part 3: coming up.... I will write about the rest of the trip, like going to places with Yuzu’s signature. :))   Update: Part 3 and Part 4

[Please do not use or re-post my stuff without my permission]

[wistfulcynic]

Another Brick In The Wall

Summary: A high school AU. Why? I don't really know. Probably because I've read a few of them lately just out of curiosity and I can't say I care for how Killian is portrayed. So here's my version. It sort of wrote itself this afternoon. Give it a try, let me know what you think. 

I'm gonna say it's vaguely Captain Duckling-ish even though Emma and Killian are both teenagers. How is this possible, you ask? Read and find out.

Rating: T for now, might go M later on.

Tagging, just in case you might be interested: @teamhook, @resident-of-storybrooke, @wellhellotragic, @let-it-raines, @deathbycaptainswan, @rouhn, @kmomof4, @jennjenn615 @tiganasummertree

Read it on AO3

Chapter 1: 

She noticed him right away, the new face in her school. A face that was a bit too skinny, much like his lanky frame, but the high cheekbones of one and the long limbs of the other hinted at good things to come. His dark hair fell messily across his forehead, and his eyes were the bluest she’d ever seen. When they caught hers, he merely raised an eyebrow at her and turned away. 

Her mouth fell open in indignation. No one turned away from Emma Swan. Not in her school. 

“Who’s the new guy?” she asked Ruby, trying to sound nonchalant. Ruby was the gossip master; she knew everything that went on at Storybrooke High. 

Ruby followed her friend's gaze to the tall boy slamming his locker shut and frowning at his class schedule. ‘Um, his name’s Killian Jones. He’s from England or Ireland or somewhere. His brother’s the new harbourmaster, they just moved here last week.” 

“Killian.” Emma tested the name. It was unusual, but she liked it. It fit him. 

Suddenly she was engulfed from behind by a pair of strong arms, chasing all thoughts of the new boy from her head. “Hey, babe,” said Neal, planting a smacking kiss on her cheek. “Whaddya say we ditch this place and go make out under the bleachers?”

Emma shrugged him off, pushing away from his grasp. “Ugh, Neal, I’ve told you before not to do that. And it’s the first day of school, of course I’m not gonna ditch.” 

He laughed. “You’re such a nerd, Ems.” 

She glared at him. “I am not, I just want good grades so I can go to college. Not all of us have football scholarships.” 

“Neal doesn’t have a football scholarship either, not yet,” Ruby pointed out with a small sneer. She was not Neal’s biggest fan.  

“Only a matter of time, Rubes,” said Neal, with a smug grin. “Coach has scouts coming to the first game, so I just gotta be my usual awesome self and it’s in the bag.” 

He slung his arm around Emma’s shoulders and she took a deep, calming breath, barely managing to suppress the urge to cringe. She liked Neal, truly. They had known each other since kindergarten, and she guessed he was technically her boyfriend, but she hated --hated-- the PDA. He knew that, she had told him often enough, but it never seemed to stop him.

She gave him a tense smile. "I'm headed to Psychology," she told him.

"I'll walk you there." His arm tightened around her shoulders as he steered her away from Ruby and towards her first class. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Killian was in her third period English class, though that first morning he was nearly late to it. By the time he appeared in the doorway it was barely a minute until the bell, and the only open seats were in the first row. She could swear she caught an eyeroll, and he seemed to smirk at the class at large as he deliberately sat in the very front and centre. 

Just in front and to the right of where she was sitting. 

He carried a leather satchel instead of a backpack, and when he slung it open to pull out his notebook she noticed an AP Calculus textbook, a slim laptop, and a large pair of headphones. 

AP Calc and AP English, she thought. Who was this guy? 

He seemed to feel her eyes on him and turned to look at her. She resisted the urge to turn away, boldly holding his blue gaze. Emma Swan did not shrink from anyone, not even disconcertingly handsome foreign boys with very blue eyes. He grinned at her, and she sensed respect in it, even as its brilliance made her heart gallop. 

Then the teacher entered the room, and he shot her a wink and looked away. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

He was in her AP US History class as well, and she heard that he also had AP Physics, French and German, from her friends who were in those classes. She heard that he was taking a Greek class online, from overhearing Miss French, the librarian who was monitoring his studies. She heard he had joined the fencing club from her own father, who coached it. She managed to hear a lot of things about him, eavesdropping and probing for the information as subtly as possible, dying of curiosity but not prepared for her friends or family to know just how much the new boy fascinated her. He was from Bristol in England and he had no family except for his brother, who was ten years older and as Ruby had reported, the new harbourmaster. They had American citizenship through their mother, and after some sort of scandal or disaster in England (no one seemed to know the details) had decided to make a new start in a new country. Killian was sixteen, more than a year younger than Emma, and he should be a junior but he’d already finished, according to Ruby, the British equivalent of a high school diploma and apparently the AP classes were the nearest thing to what he’d be doing if he’d stayed in the UK. 

“If he passes all his AP exams then he can finish high school a year early and start college next year,” Ruby reported. “I’d call him just your average nerd, but Victor and I were at that new coffee shop in Misthaven last Thursday and they had an open mic night. New boy was there, with his guitar.” 

“He plays the guitar?” Seriously?

“Yep, and sings. He’s pretty good. He did a Dylan cover, which, ugh, but then he sang an Irish song too that was acutally kinda great.” 

“Irish? I thought he was English?”

Ruby shrugged. “Irish, English, it’s all the same.” 

Emma was pretty sure that it wasn’t the same at all, but she remembered just in the nick of time that she wasn’t supposed to be interested in Killian, and changed the subject. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The next time he spoke in English class (he never volunteered to answer questions, but when the teacher called on him he always produced a brilliant answer. Even though he never seemed to do any homework, spending his lunch and free periods on his laptop, with his headphones on) she listened carefully. She was no expert in accents, but he sounded English to her. Like, he wouldn’t be out of place on Downton Abbey. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

She looked at the website of the Misthaven coffee shop and made a note of their next open mic. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sitting as unobtrusively as possible in a quiet corner booth, she watched as Killian sat down on the improvised stage and took out his guitar. He ran a hand through his hair and took a deep breath, announcing that he would be playing what he described as “An old Irish folk song with a bit of an update.” He smiled as he said it, and Emma noticed a group of girls she recognised as Misthaven High cheerleaders whispering and giggling at a table just to his right. Before she had a chance to analyse the stab of something she felt watching them, something sharp and unpleasant, Killian began to sing and she was enraptured. 

He was beautiful. His song was beautiful, his voice was beautiful, his eyes were beautiful. And she was fucked. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

She snuck out of the coffee shop without talking to him, and banged her forehead on the steering wheel of her car. Emma Swan did not crush on boys, she was crushed upon. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

She smiled at him in class on Monday, a deliberate, flirty smile. He raised an eyebrow in response, but the corners of his mouth turned up as well and she felt like she could fly to the moon. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Still, he didn’t talk to her. She’d smiled at him every day for two weeks in both their shared classes, had timed her departures so that they walked out of the classrooms together, had brushed up against him in the hallway, laughing and putting her hand on his arm as she apologised, had dropped her pencil and asked him to pick it up then leaned forward and flipped her hair as he handed it to her. She’d tried everything, all the little tricks that would have reduced any other boy in school to a quivering jelly, but Killian simply smiled and responded with the same detatched politeness that he used with all the other girls. 

Like she was just any other girl. 

Finally, she couldn’t take it any longer. “So,” she said, as they were gathering their things after English class. “Are you going to Homecoming?” 

He looked slightly surprised for a moment, then smirked. “No,” he said, and turned to go.

She grabbed her backpack and hastened after him. “What? Why not?”

He turned to look at her, this time with an incredulous expression. “Why on earth do you care whether I embrace ridiculous American high school traditions or not?” he inquired. 

“I’m just curious.” 

“Indeed. But why?”

She shrugged, not wanting to admit how interested she was in him. 

His eyebrow rose again. “Well, then, let me suggest that you mind your own business, princess.” 

She gaped. How dare he speak to her like that? “I’m not a princess!” she protested. 

“Oh, I think you are. Emma Swan, daughter of the town sheriff, niece of the mayor, girlfriend of the quarterback, head cheerleader, most popular girl in school. You couldn’t be more of a cliché of the perfect small-town American princess if you tried.” He started walking again, dismissing her. 

She followed, running to catch up with his long-legged strides. “You know an awful lot about me,” she huffed.  

“You’re hard to avoid.” 

“I know a lot about you, too.” She didn’t know where that confession had come from, but she planted herself in his path and stood her ground. 

He gave her a sardonic smirk. “I doubt that very much.” 

“You’re from Bristol, England, you’re super smart but you don’t make a big deal about it, you love music and you play the guitar.” She counted on her fingers before throwing him a triumphant look. 

“Oh, well done,” he sneered. “I’d almost think I had an admirer. But I’m afraid you missed out on the most important thing about me, love.” 

“Oh, yeah? And what’s that?”

Something flickered in his eyes, something lost and sad, just for a moment before he slammed the barriers down again. “I am just marking time in this town,” he replied, “until I can pass my exams and go the fuck back home.” She gasped at his language, and he smirked, leaning into her space and almost making her gasp again at the electric sizzle she felt at his nearness. “So don’t get too attached, princess.”

They were standing in the middle of the hallway, inches apart and eyes locked, when suddenly he was gone, slammed back into the lockers behind them with Neal’s forearm against his neck. 

“What are you doing with my girlfriend, dickhead?” snarled Neal. 

Killian was unfazed, merely raising a disdainful eyebrow. “Not a thing, mate.” 

Neal removed his arm, but remained close as Killian slowly straightened. He was skinnier than Neal but also quite a bit taller, and he somehow managed to look intimidating as he glared down at the older boy. 

Neal scowled and stepped back, putting his arm possessively around Emma. “You’re new here,” he said scornfully, “so maybe you don’t know how this works. I’m the quarterback—” 

“And you date the cheerleader and get elected homecoming king, yeah, I’ve seen that movie,” Killian scoffed back. “Trust me, mate, I have no interest in interfering or getting involved with you or your girlfriend.”

“Well.” Neal looked mollified, and Emma wanted to smack him. Couldn’t he see that Killian was making fun of both of them? “Okay then. But I still don’t like you.” 

“I still don’t give a fuck.” 

Neal snorted. “Let’s go, Ems, I’ll walk you to your locker.” He steered her away, the arm around her shoulder like iron. 

The last thing she saw was Killian giving her a mocking bow before he turned and headed in the opposite direction. 

[bksuryam]

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Facts About IELTS Examination

Introduction 

We all have heard about the term IELTS. This term stands for The International English Language Testing System. It is a systematic global test of English language mastery and expertness. The test is designed especially for those who are not born English lingo speakers. The British Council together oversees it. Many recognized international universities are associated with this examination. The foundation of the entire setup was in 1989. A lot of candidates apply for this examination every year. Here are some interesting facts to know about the IELTS examination. 

1.       The application process 

Well, application for the IELTS test is very easy. You have to search for the IELTS Singapore official website and apply. Also, check out the nearest examination center to your location. You can see the information regarding exam dates, fees, centres, etc. You learn about their availability and instantly register for an exam. However, it would help if you were careful while reading about the information.  Make sure you derive all details you need and the process of paying the registration fee. 

2.      Eligibility required 

There are no such specific eligibility criteria for the IELTS Exam. Many people across the world apply for this examination. The mandatory standards are the applicant should be at least sixteen years old. Also, a passport is necessary because the candidates should immigrate to the UK or Australia or New Zealand, or Canada if they get selected. 

3.      Practice for the examination 

While considering the credentials, a marking rank is from 0-9. This record implies the overall English skills of the candidate. When the mark ranges high, it means the candidate has better proficiency in the English language. A minimum score ensures that you can speak decent English. Many institutes require this eligibility. There are many coaching centres for IELTS preparation. 

4.      Facets of the examination 

The IELTS test Singapore has different categories. These categories include a listening test, a speaking test, a reading test, and a writing test. The applicants have to score a minimum score in all of these categories to secure overall good marks. The allotted time for all these divisions is varied. 

5.      Purpose of the examination 

IELTS exam Singapore is one of the most renowned examinations that is globally recognized. The IELTS exam benefits you to set an ambition and encourages you to pursue further studies. You get a chance to work abroad in your desired domain if you pass this examination.   

6.      Personality Development 

The IELTS test assesses your language proficiency in four crucial ways. The test includes listening, reading, writing, and speaking skills. Overall it helps you to develop your personality and boost your confidence while communicating on a professional level. So, you comprehend how and what to say to the officials. 

Conclusion 

IELTS is a worldwide examination that occurs every year. All the details are available on their official website. Many students prefer to take individual coaching for this examination. You can follow and contact Jamboree the o get all the required information for preparation.

[trishuldefenceacademy-blog]

BEST SSB COACHING IN PRAYAGRAJ

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Ussi taraha apne laksh ko paanne ka lie sahee disha nirdesh kee”  – By Trishul Defence Academy

Direction and focus are the main two things which are important to crack Indian Armed Forces exam. Without right direction and focus no candidate will able to clear any exam of armed forces and Trishul Defence Academy which is the best coaching for SSB exam in Prayagraj is known for providing the maximum number selections in the Armed Forces whether its Indian Army, Indian Navy or Indian Air Force through proper direction and guidance provided by the Retd. Wing Cdr. Anoop Mehrotra. The guidance provided by our mentor and the selection ratio of Trishul Defence Academy made it the best coaching for SSB exam in Prayagraj.

In SSB exam candidate have reach a day prior to the exam date. Candidate has to reside inside the campus of the armed forces. SSB exam is a five day process where candidates have to go through different tests given by the three officers i.e. Interviewing Officer, GTO Officer and the Physiological Officer. They test each and every candidate who is present for the SSB exam. Each day candidates have to go through a new type of test such as:

DAY 1:- SCREENING TEST :- It is conducted in three steps

Officers Intelligence Test

Picture Perception Depiction Test

Group Discussion

DAY 2:- PSYCHOLOGY TEST: – It is conducted in four steps

SRT (Situation Reaction Test)

WAT (Word Association Test)

TAT (Thematic Apperception Test)

SDT (Self Description Test)

DAY 3:- GTO ACTIVITIES: – It is conducted in nine steps

Group Discussion

Progressive Group Task (PGT)

Military Planning Exercise

Group Obstacle Race / Snake Race

Lecturette

Half Group Task (HGT)

Individual Obstacles

Command Task

Final Group Task (FGT)

DAY 4:- PERSONAL INTERVIEW:- Candidates are called for personal

interview with the all the three officers

where they are asked 10 – 12

questions related to them.

DAY 5:- RESULT:- Candidate are called and results are announced.

Trishul Defence Academy which is the best coaching for SSB in Prayagraj have given 600+ officers and 2500+ to Indian Armed Forces during the last 16 years. Trishul Defence Academy which is the best coaching for SSB in Prayagraj was founded by the Wing Cdr. Anoop Mehrotra (Ex NDA, Ex GTO) in the year 2003. Candidates who come to Trishul Defence Academy which is the best coaching for SSB in Prayagraj and join the course are provided many facilities such as:-

Separate hostel facility for boys and girls.

We have our own GTO ground.

English speaking classes.

Physical Fitness Classes for students of Trishul Defence Academy on every Sunday

Motivational Classes are conducted by Wing Cdr. Anoop Mehrotra (Ex NDA & 3 times Ex GTO officer) and Col. Pankaj Mehrotra .

SSB classes are conducted by Wing Cdr. Anoop Mehrotra (Ex NDA & 3 times Ex GTO officer)

Every Monday a new batch is organized for SSB

Only 15 students are there in a SSB batch.

Lecturette classes are taken every day.

Group Discusiion classes are taken on every day.

Personal Interview classes are taken by Col. Pankaj Mehrotra.

Psychological classes are taken by Group Capt. A.K.Maini

PIQ form is practiced in every batch

Screening test is done on smart board to give the feeling of real exam.

PPDT is done on smart board to give the feeling of real exam.

GPE & MPE is done on every alternate day.

For any query write us on the comment section below. You can also contact Trishul Defence Academy at the numbers provided below or get free counseling at your nearest centre of Trishul Defence Academy.

Trishul Defence Academy

Corporate office: -Gayatri Dham Building, Milan Tower, Behind Max Mall, Civil Lines, Prayagraj (U.P.) 211001, Contact:  8400083030

Branch Offices :

BAREILLY:–  35A Civil Lines, Chauki Chauraha, Near Amaya  Hotel, Bareilly (U.P.)   Contact : 9690502728

DEHRADUN : – 108C, Top Floor Haridwar Road, Above ICICI bank, Dharampur Branch, Dharampur, Dehradun Contact: 8400083030 / 7456083030

GWALIOR:- 106 MLB colony, Near Miss school, Padav, i.e. Gwalior Contact: 6262063030

RANCHI: – 6th Floor Jagganath Tower, 403, Circular Road, Lalpur, Ahirtoli, Ranchi (Jharkhand) Contact: 9934113030

Website: www.trishuldefenceacademy.com

Mail us at– info.trishuldefenceacademy@gmail.com

Jai Hind

[thetullybadger]

Quantum Deep.

Part One

“Ahhh here man, what is this shite?!”

The statement was quiet, but audible enough to inform everyone of his boredom. His not so dulcet Geordie tones were carried on the stifling air. Everyone looked. Everyone of his team mates giggled, bar the manager and the tour guide. The tour guide looked annoyed. This was probably just due to the amassing number of years both in the sun and fighting gravity, than actual annoyance. Her dearly departed husband had developed problems with his nerves, always believing he was in for a bollocking when their eyes met. Scotty, the vocalist of this exclamation didn’t care about her sun bleached, gravitational drooped facial structure, nor her dearly departed, anxiety ridden husband. He was just a bit pissed off. Righty so, and he wasn’t alone. They were all thinking it. To be fair to them all, this exhibition was a bit shit.

The museum wasn’t on any tourist maps, nor was it immediately obvious from the outside that it was in fact a museum. It was a large wood and tin warehouse, with all the function over grace styling famed by World War 2 architects. From the outside could see the outlines of fences and outposts that once stood in the rocky crops of the Badlands. The once prestigious, yet secretive, military research facility had been purposely built in the arse end of nowhere, South Dakota. It had been the epicentre of ground breaking research into super soldiers and world beating athletes, before abruptly closing down and almost drifting out of existence in the early 80’s. It had but one Trip Advisor review which read, ‘Bad coffee - 2*’. Despite this, their manager, eager for anything that would help prevent another relegation battle and stave off his impending p45, decide they were going.

Said manager, Claudio by name, had sneakily arranged for his Gateshead F.C team to do a training camp in America, to improve the squad for the coming season. The Crafty Italian’s purpose was finding this centre. He came across it on a Instagramer’s conspiracy page. This page, however, also claimed that U.S president Donald Trump and North Korea’s Kim Jong-un are the same person, cleverly disguised with different shades of fake tan and Just for Men. Stranger things have happened, thought Claudio.

When Claudio announced the day long tip North from Sunny Los Angeles to the Badlands there was much disgruntlement among the team who were keen to just sun bathe and knock up a few of the locals, ideally at the same time.

The journey there would be enough to make most sane people get off the bus, walk into the nearest undertakers and climb into a coffin. This is unless you had really bad piles which needed to be bumped back in. And bumped they would be. This road in the badlands had more holes than the British Governments competitive Corporatation tax regime, which as we know, the word competitive in this sentence means absent. Absent also, was most of the road. Still though, anything that gives you an edge, thought Claudio. Their coach driver, who preferred to be called a executive destination agent, had wanted to turn back. Fearful his coach (destination delivery unit) would become filler for some of these potholes. Claudio insisted they press onwards, much to the displeasure of everyone’s bottoms until finally, they arrived.

Claudio, who seemingly struggles at the best of times with his English, piped up in defence of the tour insisting that they could be something here to help them in their careers. Looking around at the rusting pieces of equipment and dated dusty books, the team stood amazed. Not because all the crap in here was about as much use to the modern game of football, as a paralegal is to you getting your mortgage through on time. But rather before now, they all believed Claudio’s English was limited to ‘get the ball’, ‘fuck off’, and ‘4-4-2’. Coincidentally similar to the English used by parents watching their kids play on a Saturday morning.

‘It’s a bit wank though isn’t it gaffa’, muttered Scotty to Claudio when they were nearing the end of the tour. The expression was seemingly lost on on him, but Scotty thought Claudio was probably thinking something similar, in Italian. Claudio wander off to contemplate his fate.

‘Nothing you like?’ Said a voice from a unnoticed doorway in the corner of the room. It was the unfortunately annoyed face of the tour guide, in an now almost suspect German accent. Looking at her now, Scotty noticed she was even older than he first thought, she was like a walking fossil. He wasn’t the first person to wonder if she was actually dead. For some time rumour had circulated that she had died, but being fed up of lying in a box all day, dug herself out and became a tour guide, like many other dead people before her.

“Boredom is often the sign of a great mind,” the tour guide followed up with, staring intently at Scotty. Scotty was flattered by the comment, he’s always thought of himself as being a great thinker, although he chose not to disclose the fact he could probably spell Dundee twice with his GSCE grades.

“The secret to being happier lies in here,” said the tour guide, pointing to the the door behind her. The horny old bat thought Scotty, giving the idea some seriously contemplation. The fossil then walked off in the other direction, leaving Scotty with the kind of conflicting emotions only found in teenage lads between 16 and 19 years - disappointment and relief.

The door creaked open slightly and the dim light struggled to illuminate the dusty descending stair case. Having seen one to many horror films, Scotty’s grey matter was screaming a big ‘fuck no’ and he was about to close the door, when he heard the faintest sound. A cracking old electronic tune with the distinct repetitiveness that could only be a computer game. So, without further thought, off went Scotty down the stairs, almost taking the door off it’s hinges in search of another form of instant gratification. His brain wondered if it was possible to list Scotty on Purple Bricks and find another body to occupy.

The stairs creaked and moaned with all the irritability of arthritic old man in the morning. The air, stuffy with dust from the generations before, suddenly stirred into life and hitched rides on the air currents brought down with Scotty. The light from upstairs raided down the staircase into the vast darkness at the bottom but yielded quickly. Outlines of objects played tricks with Scott’s eyes as he fumbled his hands across the walls in search of a light switch. Old chairs seemed to jump out of nowhere with one sending him careering to the ground, knocking him unconscious in the process. This was just as well, as prior to losing consciousness, Scotty emitted a terrified scream so high pitched, to hear it, you would have though someone, somewhere, had just stood on a sleeping dog. Had that been attributed to him, he would have had to retire from life due to the ribbing he would have relieved from his teammates.

Coming to a short time later and lying spread eagle on the floor, Scotty wondering if he was about to soddomised by whatever had attacked him. He then found himself wondering how he would respond if the sodomiser politely requested he squeal like a pig. A TV suddenly tuned on though and put an end to the thoughts of buggery. It scattered a dim green light through the darkness from which the dust seemed to dance around, the electronic jingle was back. Scotty could now see his attacker was a kitsch velvet dinning chair. The shame of it.

Having uprighted himself from his crumpled heap, Scotty made his way towards the tv. There was another kitsch velvet dining chair in front of the TV. The TV, as deep as it was tall, was perched on a teak sideboard. Resting next to it, a small box. The box was grey, familiar and memorable. On closer inspection it was non other than a first generation Nintendo. ‘Result’ thought Scotty. There was an old cartridge game poking out of it. Scotty pulled out the cartridge for closer inspection. Quantum Leap was the name of the game, not one he was familiar with, but he vaguely remembered the TV show with that lad Sam someone or other. Looking about, his mild concussion fogging his decision making, Scotty exclaimed, “What’s the worse that can happen!” He popped in the game, booted it up and took a seat. Had Scotty had paid closer attention, or even just found a light switch, he would have noticed that this Nintendo was connected to a massive grey, Cold War relic of a machine at the back of the room. The machine clunked into life. The banging and clattering of old pistons was deafening. They heaved and forced movement into the rusting steal clogs that has once had been as lubed as the playboy mansion, now rusted with the arid dryness of Gandi’s unattended sandals. The grinding and banging caused Scotty’s sphincter to tighten so much he had no choice but to stand up to prevent himself being turned inside out.

On the TV screen a large pixilated cartoon was waving to come on in.

PRESS START, loomed on the screen.

Conclusion in control, Scotty pressed start. The Screen flickered for a few moments and then, with all the plagiarised visual effect from the film Tron, Scotty was turned into strips of light and suck into an electronic blackhole to the delightfully reminiscent sound of an internet dial up tone.

Moments later, Scotty rematerialised to find himself bollock naked in a glass tube. Soft blue lighting give a calming glow to an otherwise sinister laboratory. A woman stood in front of him.

As elegantly and as calm as Scotty could be in this situation, he said

“Here man, what the fuck, ye draft cunts. Where am a? Ye kna who I am. Get me oot of this tube or I’ll fuckin knack the lot of ya!”

With that out of the way and indeed with no-one responding, Scotty took in the room and noticed the woman look at him.

Now feeling a little exposed he muttered, “What ye looking at eh?”

“Hello, my name is Twiggy” said the woman.

It was of course not the real Twiggy, the London model and self styled ambassador for the UK, but more a physical representation of her. Twiggy explained that her image had been burned deep with Scott’s genes and this is why she was there, she was to be his guide.

“Hadaway an’ shite! Guide for what?” Demanded Scotty.

The two things Scotty had yet to understand was that his father had and spend most his 20’s and 30’s wanking over Twiggy and was thinking about her the night Scotty was conceived.

‘It’s probably why you like more mature women”, Twiggy later explained.

Scotty protested, he was no Wayne Rooney.

The second thing Scotty failed to realise was that he was now trapped in the the Quantum experiment. An experiment to put the greatest minds on the planet into those in great peril; in order to make decisions and achieve things their own mind wasn’t even capable of grasping. It was designed to help make the world a better place, put a brilliant mind into somewhere where wars could be won, world end events could be prevented and to stop pedo’s making it beyond the 80’s. Instead, sadly, the experiment was highjacked by old scientists, politicians and pedo’s who wanted to live forever.

“Are you ready?” Twiggy asked.

If Scotty was confused about what he was to be ready for, then his mind was about to be blown out of this tube as he, and everything about him, was once again turned into an scintillating electronic light, then sucked into a blackhole. Internet dial up tone jingle to boot.

Everything was now black. Twiggy was speaking.

“Some say that Jumanji, Tron and quantum leap were all written by those who made it of out the Quantum experiment. Those who bettered the thing they became. Many never did and live out there lives in whatever soul and time period they occupied. Some were happy about this, deliberately failing so they could live out lives a rockstars, astronauts or Honey Badgers. Others met a not so happy end as Dung Beatles, farmed salmon or country singers.

“You must better the life of that which you occupy, for both them and the world they inhabit. Succeed and you will move on, fail, and that will be you forever. I ask again, are you ready?”

“Eh?! What the fuck are ye on aboot man?”

“Good, then we’ll start”, replied twiggy.

[johnbeslay-blog]

IELTS TEST Myths That Roam In The Air

In real life conditions, we've seen greater than regularly that the'Famous People' have to go through the agonies of being popular. In most walks of the life it's an accepted fact that'Fame' follows'infamy,' naturally, '' the'Fame' of this IELTS isn't spared. Since IELTS is not the test of it is form, the conflict would be on to subdue it. A massive part of those folks is consistently'skeptic' - regardless of these literacy, language or anything. Therefore, a logical and analytical discussion of this'False Myths' is required to create individuals stop becoming confused.

Qualifying by means of IELTS is next to hopeless: IELTS is off course tough and it's really supposed to become , because it's the very accepted test for analyzing the'Ultimate proficiency of a candidate in the English language.' But with the ielts coaching in al ain, dubai, abu dhabi it becomes more easy! Therefore to find a excellent'Band Score,' candidates will want to get a thorough prep. Ielts coaching in al ain, However, that does not encourage the fantasy. What do the statistics indicate?  Every calendar year somewhere around 2.5 million applicants look for the exam, from less than one hundred thirty five countries round the globe. Well, newvision-tc.com, promotes the ielts training center in al ain. A huge chunk of these comes from non-English speaking states as well. You will get ielts al ain and get reay to achieve your ielts goals. Proportion of those candidates aren't negligible in any respect. Hence the delusion is just a rumor and nothing much more.

It's not possible to get a non-native speaker to acquire a excellent Band Score: Again it will not match the information. Thousands of younger aspirants by a number of non-English discussing countries, for example India, perform exceptionally well annually. A lot of candidates in ielts training center in al ain even get yourself a high Band Score of 8/8.5 or even 9 as well. So, no reason to discuss the delusion.

Ielts al ain, if an applicant appears out of his home country only he then might evaluate large: Usually, candidates sit at the evaluation out of his home centre. But maybe not every state has an IELTS Test centre. Of course in such cases, candidates need to go to the nearest test centre in a region that is foreign. Being unable to sit down in the exam out of his home center could make a handful of candidates feel nervous and unable to perform from this evaluation. But the IELTS jurisdiction will not have to complete such a thing and they have been fair to all. Hundreds of eligible and sincere candidates are usually seen develop victory appearing the exam out of a center. So the myth doesn't hold good for its candidates that are emotionally hard enough.

The longer I create the higher for the score: A very ridiculous fable. In every stage of these tests guidelines associated with this'Word Limit' are given. Now if a candidate write in'less' words . However, it even could potentially cause marks that were thinning and doesn't carry additional marks, when a candidate crosses the word limit he would be penalized. It's not an exaggeration to say it is just lack of literacy to disperse and believe misconceptions that are such.