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#Could be weather I don't KNOW but like usually I'm like these are. Fine. Manageable with the tools I have
bsaka7 · 2 months
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i feel like my headaches have been getting worse :/
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nudityandnerdery · 10 months
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[Image Description: A series of sixteen tweets by John Rogers @jonrog1 that say:
1) A moment at the Teamsters/UPS rally this morning clarified our current struggle with the studio CEO's (among other bosses). Teamsters got a lot of wins, but one of the main sticking points is the pay for the 65% of local UPS workers who are part-time …
2) If you read the SAG-AFTRA demands, a truly STUNNING amount of their points involve protecting background actors, and trying to improve conditions for the 87% of their union who makes less than $26,000 a year.
3) As WGA members know, this is not a strike for the showrunners. We're trying to fix the fact the the current younger generation of writers can't even afford housing and their pathway to advancement has been cut off.
4) Like … folks, I'm fine. There are maybe two proposals in there that affect me. I'm walking in 90% weather and losing over 50% of my income for the year because I want the younger writers to get what I got at this stage of their careers.
5) Our unions and the CEO's and various negotiators have a fundamental cognitive disconnect. Because CEO's types only succeed by FUCKING THEIR PEERS.
6) Zaslav, Iger , those types of execs, etc have never gone without so a fellow exec or a junior exec could thrive. A fellow exec failing is the moment to use your own leverage to advance past them, if not destroy them.
7) Part of it is the money but part of this, I think, is a genuine inability to grasp even the concepts of any labor action. Because it is always other-directed.
8) So many people treat capitalism as part of nature red in tooth and claw, but it's not. It's a human construct. There are different rules you can play by -- but not if you want to win.
9) The greatest gift capitalism ever granted was the ability to validate selfish behavior as a virtue because that's "just what's necessary, I don't make the rules!" (Look ma, it's reification!)
10) This is where I usually point out that Adam Smith wrote that you have to overpay workers to keep your labor force up, and you need to take into account the psychic damage of capitalism to the workers, and that admiring the rich is the greatest source of moral corruption …
11) But I'll stave off that diversion to just land with … this is a discontinuity of attitudes which I think was once breached by the fact that management USED to come from people who loved building their company or their trade, even if they eventually did management shit.
12) Now, even that thin thread of SYMPATHY (Adam Smith joke, get it? People?) is gone. The CEO's are working off a different scorecard, practically and morally. We're not just playing by wildly divergent rules, our lives and careers are DEFINED by those wildly divergent rules.
13) To them, we are IN FACT being "unreasonable", as our behavior does not make sense in their moral framework. They don't think they're being evil, they think they're playing by the actual rules, and we're nuts.
14) There's not great conclusion to this, other than to note that the bit about making writers homeless was described as "cruel but necessary" because they genuinely don't understand the meaning of cruel, because they are always on the other side of the power dynamic.
15) And if they're ever NOT on the top of the power dynamic, they're not suffering, they're dead. They are un-people in their own eyes.
16) These men are not irrational, but they are deranged. This isn't about money, it's about identity. And in a fight about identity … they will set billions on fire.
Because they can always get more money. But they'll never shed the stink of losing to their lessers."
end of image description]
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imaginesmai · 7 months
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Right around the corner - Azriel (5)
AHHHHH this is the final part and let me tell you I'm SAD. It was so hard to write the ending you all deserve after all this love, so I tried my best. Let me know what you think! Also, you deserve A LOT, so I made it long hehehe. Don't worry, a request about the RATH universe is coming soon! If you want one too, drop it in my inbox!
(1), (2), (3), (4)
Plot: The story of how Azriel fixed what was broken, and how you forgave him.
Warnings: this is sad, but has a happy ending! Also, mental health issues.
No one expected the sidra to froze that year, and against everyone expectation, one day Velaris had woken up to see the riven covered by a silver layer. Children had missed school to skate in the solid surface, parents watching carefully from the edge. Some couples were skating too, holding hands and giggling endlessly.
You had been watching the new scene unfold all morning. And while you usually loved snow and ice as much as any child in town, you were starting to get a little sick of all the noise.
It wasn’t your new employee situation, who had been staring at the river all morning. She had already finished her duties, but always the polite and nice girl, Elain Archeron was keeping you company.
When you spotted for the third time the familiar red-head through the glass and she didn’t say anything, just sighed, you decided you had enough.
“You should tell him to get in before he freezes to death” you commented, still busy with measuring the ingredients.
“Oh, no” Elain blushed and looked away from the window. “No. He’s just… He can wait”
“He can, but doesn’t have to. You and Lucien should head out, rent ice skates and have a fun day. You already finished here” you smiled kindly at her, and before she could reply, you added. “I’m fine, I don’t even like cold weather. And I still need to finish this, which you can’t help me with. So, go”
Elain stared at you with uncertainty, and you tried to look as convinced as possible. Would you have liked her to stay? After all, she was one of the few people you socialized with these days. She had turned in when you opened the bakery again, right after you posted the sign about looking for a new partner.
And even if you had had your doubts when you discovered she was Feyre’s sister and Azriel’s friend, you considered her your own friend.
So, yeah, you would have liked her to stay. Because you were still awfully sad all the time, and her company was one of the few things that made your day better. But you being sad didn’t excuse her missing a wonderful day with her mate.
“It’s not closing time yet” her eyes danced between the glass and you. “He was supposed to wait for me at the house”
“Guess he’s too eager to see you. He’s been dancing around the bakery for a good hour” you chuckled. “Elain, I mean it. Go. Have fun. I’ll see you on Monday”
“Y/N, I promise I don’t mind waiting. It’s not like it will unfreeze”
“And I promise I don’t mind at all. So, go, have fun and tell me about it on Monday” you gripped her hand softly over the counter, nodding to the waiting mal outside. “Come on, go”
Lucien was once more outside the bakery, the only visible part of him his red hair. He was covered in thick layers, but still managed to smile when Elain kissed your cheek and took her coat on the way out.
You didn’t have it in you to watch them be affectionate with each other, so you looked down at your task and decided it would be the last of the day.
It was hard watching all those couples walking hand in hand and remembering the feel of his warm, scarred hand in yours. To hear a man laughing and remember the unexpected laughs you dragged out of him sometimes. Even looking at the river was painful, because you could almost see the ghost of Azriel and you learning how to skate in a frozen lake in the Illyrian mountains a few years ago.
You had seen Azriel around a few times now, walking through your bakery and waving at you through the glass. Two times he had been waiting at the door when it was late at night, silently walking you home from afar without talking. Almost two months had passed by and your feelings were still as messed up as before.
Though you didn’t cry as much as before, and you were starting to get better, you still wondered.
If Azriel getting help would mean your relationship would be fixed, or if it was broken permanently. Deep in your thoughts, and used as you were to Azriel’s shadows, you didn’t notice how they tugged on your apron until the door sounded again.
Elain’s name didn’t leave your lips, because as soon as the door opened, you lost your breath.  As if you had summoned him, Azriel walked through the door, beautiful as ever. He wasn’t in his usual training leather, but winter clothes that fit him as a glove. Instantly, you noticed he had lost weight. His shoulders were slumped and his body didn’t carry the usual grace of an Illyrian warrior.
“Hi”
His scarred hands, that had held you so many times and slaughtered so many enemies, were tucked in his coat’s pockets. You could feel the nervousness through the bond, the hesitance. Too stunned to answer, you only stared at him.
You had known that, eventually, he would talk to you. That you would have to do more than just wave at each other through the glass and stay silent when he sent you details through Elain. But still, you hadn’t expected it.
Unable to move, you only blinked.
“I saw Elain and Lucien heading out” he added, not looking away from you. “It’s a nice day outside”
Azriel hadn’t finished before one of his new shadows scaped his control, sneaking around the counter. The familiar ones, that had been by your side since he left, danced around the new intrusion. It lifted your apron, and crawled up your neck.
The cool feeling was the last of your worries, because no matter how much you willed yourself to say something, you couldn’t even tear your eyes from him.
The bond flickered between the two of you, once more. Knowing that it was one-sided, that he didn’t wear it like you did, made break your trance.
“She’s finished for the day” you explained, sounding way more confident that what you felt.
“It’s a nice day, yeah” he repeated, not giving you time to feel awkward before he continued “I thought that maybe you wanted to take a walk with me. It’s cold, but we could… get coffee. Or chocolate, if you want”
Azriel gave you a half, broken smile. Hearing his voice again made you take ten steps backward.
“I have things to do”
You looked down to your current task, which could be easily discarded. You had left much important things half-done because of him, and you would have done it normally without a second thoughts. But no matter how heartful the conversation at your door had been, you just knew you weren’t ready to have a conversation without getting angry.
You knew you weren’t ready to forgive him.
His new shadow gripped your wrist tightly before disappearing, and you heard Azriel’s doubt. He wanted to say something else, and you wanted too. Still, you fell back to your measuring and ignored the way your vision blurred, how your knees became weak again.
Maybe going back to your duties was the only way not to break down again.
The silence continued for a long minute. You couldn’t not feel his presence, the way his scent filled the bakery and made your stomach turn. Your heart recognized what you needed, what you wanted, and threatened to jump out of your chest.
Before you could regret your words, Azriel opened the door again.
“You’re forgetting the yeast” he said, his voice thick with emotion.
When you looked up again, he only smiled. You opened your mouth to tell him to wait, maybe to fuck off and never come again. You didn’t have time, because Azriel closed the door behind him and he was gone.
The first tear fell against the unformed dough, followed by many more. You wouldn’t be finishing the blueberry cake that afternoon, you realized, as you crunched behind the counter and cried.
-
There was a storm coming, and everyone in Velaris had had the same idea – run to the market, buy everything they needed for a few days, and crowd themselves at home with their loved ones. You were trying to follow the first part of the plan, not having anyone to go home anymore. And if that wasn’t enough reason to drag you down, the crowd was getting intense.
Velaris’ market was a beautiful place, full of shops and nice vendors. But that day, the space felt too small.
You already had a few bags with you, yet there were a few more to go. Wanting to finish as soon as possible, you had ignored the rational part of your brain and had gotten in the middle of the crowd. You had only managed to buy milk and pasta, and still had a long way to go.
After Azriel’s brief appearance, your life had been messier than before. He had come by the bakery at least five times more, always offering you some kind of plan you rejected. Going to the park, for a flight or to a coffee shop. Taking walks, watching the sunset or training together.
You lived now half-prepared to see him walking through your door again, and not having the heart to tell him no. You weren’t sure if that thought frightened or comforted you.
In your haste, you had almost forgotten to buy provisions for the storm, and had found yourself on the worst day to do them. Crowded, loud and suffocating, that was how you would describe the market at that moment.
The fact that most people ran with their children and family wasn’t helpful at all.
Most of the times, it was Azriel who did the last-minute shopping for you. He knew you didn’t like crowds, loud places, that you did best in your bakery where only five people were allowed at a time.
Another shove broke you down from your daydreaming, and you looked back to see a pregnant woman staring with her eyebrows furrowed.
“The line is moving” she spatted, pointing to the small space ahead of you. “If you don’t move with it, you should step out”
“Oh, no” you chuckled softly. You picked up the bags on the ground and took the two small steps that you were supposed to. “Sorry, I just thought I could take a little bit more space. It’s crowded here”
“I don’t mind crowds, so if you want to step back, let me get first. I’m in a hurry”
“Me too” you gave her a polite smile, mindful of her state.
The short distance that separated you from the customer on the front was certainly not enough, and she knew it. Still, she looked at you with disapproval. There were only five more people to go until it was your turn, you could buy your snacks and run to the next stall.
You thought you could ignore the glare at the back of your neck, and you did for a few minutes. Without meaning to, you thought how everything with Azriel was easier. Not only people wouldn’t dare to talk to him like that, but also, he assured you a good meter of distance between you two and the rest of the world with his wings.
The snacks on your hands almost fell when, not even two seconds after the man took three steps forward, you were shoved again.
That time, when you looked back, the woman was accompanied by her mate. His wings covered her from the people behind them.
“You should really step out of the line” she repeated. “You might have all the time in the word, but we are in a hurry”
“Me too. You can’t expect me to be glued to that man” you tried to explain, anxiety coiling in your stomach. “He just moved”
“And you didn’t, which proves my point. Besides, it’s obvious you only have a few things. We have more”
“Which should be enough reason to let me go first, not only because I was here before you” you shrugged, feeling even more uncomfortable when the male huffed a laugh. “Maybe it’s you who shouldn’t have come here today if you can’t wait in a line”
You weren’t a threat for the woman, and you were trying really hard to be polite and prove your point. Besides, being pregnant wasn’t an easy task, and you could tell she was far along. Maybe you should have let her pass, or maybe told her to fuck off.
But before you could argue further, something clicked in the male’s eyes, wide with recognition.
And you would have preferred for him to go full berserk mode on you. Because you recognized that look, you had been receiving them for a while now.
The male elbowed the woman’s side softly, pointing with his chin towards you. You didn’t have time to turn back and avoid the conversation, because he spoke.
“You’re the shadowsinger’s mate” he announced, loud enough to make a few heads turn.
“Oh” the woman finally connected the dots and lunged forward to grab your arm so tight you couldn’t shake her off. “I’m so sorry. I’m sorry, I didn’t recognize you”
“It’s fine. Don’t worry” you pushed your arm back, trying to let go.
While the woman apologized, you couldn’t help but listen to the whispers. The same ones you had heard in your bakery and through the streets. Some of them thrown in your face by rude or nosy customers that didn’t understand the concept of privacy, others by bystanders.
At the end, it was the woman who said it out loud, confirming what everyone in the small circle that had formed at the cue was wondering about. She finally let go of your arm and crossed hers in front of her body.
The look of pity wasn’t as bad as the confirmation.
“He rejected you, right?” it wasn’t a question, not when you didn’t answer and she continued. “We heard you’ve been mated for almost a century and he doesn’t want the bond. Is that true?”
It wasn’t true, but you didn’t have the heart to correct her. Instead, you turned around and used your wing-less privileges to sneak through the crowd. You kept your head down, as if that could stop you from hearing the comments or feeling the stares.
People had come up with an alternative version where Azriel and you had been mated for decades, for centuries. Where you had cheated on him or he had changed you for someone else. You had even heard that he had bonded with another person and had kicked you out of the house, and that you had been the one rejecting the bond.
Each version was farthest from the truth than the last one, but they all hurt the same. The crowd didn’t seem to get thinner no matter how deep you got in the market. Once the people who had heard the conversation were left behind, new people crowded you, worried about the girl panicking and running through the middle of the market.
There were a few occasions where you thought you would fall, where you tripped and almost embarrassed yourself farther. You had almost made it to the back entrance of the market when you finally realized you were tripping no more. There was no longer a crowd around you, nor whispers or hands reaching your way.
It took you another few steps to fully stop and assess the situation. When you looked back to see where the crowd was, you were met with a broad chest inches away from you. Through tearful eyes, you recognized Azriel’s wings tucking you away from people, his mere presence pushing them away.
You met his hazel eyes, full of worry and regret. His hair was longer, covering his brow, but you found comfort in his crooked nose, in his freckles, that you knew so well.
You noticed in his hands your bags that had been left in the stall, a new one with the snacks you were about to buy.
“What – what are you doing here?” you choked out, too grateful for the sudden moment of peace to wonder about anything else.
“I felt you through the bond, a few hours ago. Anxious and…” he stopped himself, his eyes scanning every tear that marked your cheeks. “I was just getting here when it got worse. I heard most of it. I’m –”
“Don’t say you’re sorry” you interrupted him. “It’s not your fault”
Out of the many things that were indeed his fault, people not minding their own business wasn’t his. You were used to him blaming himself for everything, from wars in other courts to people fighting in the street. The response came naturally.
Your nose was cold and runny, your hands frozen in your pockets, and your feet hurt. Besides all of that, you felt all wrong. Because you enjoyed his presence, because what they said, and because you couldn’t help but calm down when he was close.
Azriel didn’t say anything when you took the bags from his hands, thanking him quietly. He didn’t say anything as more people walked away from him, either because of his wings or because they recognized him.
“You don’t like last minute shopping”
It was a pointless observation, but it was better than to comment on how afraid he had been when, just outside the market, he felt the bond snap with urgence. His shadows knew where you were, and that you needed him, but even he had trouble running through crowds. Azriel also couldn’t talk about how mad he had been at everyone in that stall, how his new shadows had turned off every light and almost chocked them to death.
Azriel wanted to say that you were probably cold because you didn’t like your own coats, and most of the times wore one of his. He wanted to hug you, too, to feel you between his arms after what felt like an eternity and promise you that it would end well.
But he couldn’t say anything more than the obvious.
“I had to” you answered.
With a furious fist, frustrated at life, at him and at you, you brushed the tears off your cheeks. You could tell that he wanted to keep talking, and you did too. Since your last encounter, you had come up with more conversations you should have.
You stared at each other for what seemed forever. There were details that you had almost forgotten in your sorrow – like his long lashes, that you teased him about. Or the freckle that snuck up to the corner of his left eye. The way his mouth rose higher from the right, and the small scar on his ear from where Cassian dared him to wear an earring.
Only his face was enchanting enough to help you forget about the day, about the weight of your chest. It was the first closing call from the market, that sounded through the public speakers, that broke you away.
“I should go”
“I should go”
You talked at the same time, and you smiled softly when you pointed to different directions. You didn’t miss how his eyes fell to your mouth, how his own lifted up too.
“I could walk you back” he offered, not tearing his eyes away from your mouth. “If you let me”
You didn’t answer immediately. Those last words, that he had repeated so often lately, almost had you saying yes. You could almost imagine how it would go – him walking by your side, one of his wings behind your back. His elbow brushing yours, and his gaze fixed on you.
Your smile dropped when you remembered the times you had walked just like that, tucked together. The times you had waked by yourself through Velaris with his imprint on you, and the times he had left without a trace of your presence.
Azriel knew the answer before you said it, and his shoulders dropped slightly.
“Sorry”
That time, you decided to turn away before he could. Taking the back exit was a poor choice, knowing it was farther from your house than the main one, but you couldn’t picture yourself walking through the market without Azriel keeping the crowds a step away.
So you turned around, gripped your bags tight and didn’t tear your eyes from the ground during the whole way back.
-
It wasn’t Azriel who found you the time everything changed, but you.
The cold and winter were over, the streets were clean and the sun was out. It was a perfect day to spend outside, and Elain seemed fixed in throwing you out of your own shop. She claimed that the bags under your eyes were as dark as the night, and that your skin was so pale that she couldn’t tell the flour stains apart from it.
“Just for the record, you’re kicking the owner of the bakery out of the bakery” you stated, looking at her once more from the door. “You do realize that shouldn’t happen, right?”
“I’m helping a friend come out of her ghost-like season” she replied, still decorating muffins. “And you do realize that most shops close on Sunday’s, right?”
“Certainly not a bakery” you looked to the empty fountain at her right. “If we do it together, we will – “
“If you touch one single item of this bakery, I’m banning you from the kitchen for a month”
You doubted she meant it, she could. But still, you sighed and turned around to open the door. You weren’t an extrovert, certainly not an outsider. Since you were a child, you liked your kitchen, your house, and your space. And none of those things were outside the door.
But you actually feared what the fae you left behind would do if you turned back. Elain had already hidden your apron so you couldn’t put it on, and had threatened to mismatch the soy milk with normal one.
Giving her a last, tight smile through the glass, you walked towards the center of Velaris.
Not many people were outside that soon on a Sunday morning, but you were glad for her insistence the moment the sun kissed your face. The cold weather was disappearing and you could feel warmth across your cheeks. It was still cold, and it would be for at least another week, but the change in the weather promised a happy spring.
You walked aimlessly around Velaris, stopping to watch the Sidra move every now and then. Your feet carried you through unfamiliar streets, all of them filled with colors and smells. The longer you walked, the healthier you felt. Each step felt like a weight lifted from your chest, and you even smiled to a few usuals you found in the streets.
The main square peeked through the streets. It wasn’t your usual destination, too crowded and not as pretty as other parts of the town. But you still walked through it, feeling at ease and happy.
It had happened before, usually the days before you started your cycle, and you should have known the feeling of ease had nothing to do with the weather or the walk. It had happened and it happened again, just as you rounded a corner to walk in the square.
If, by any chance, Azriel hadn’t noticed you coming, the shadows that tugged him away from where he was standing would have made it obvious.
His eyes widened when he saw you, and you felt that peaceful feeling making its home for the day. There was no sorrow, no sadness, and none of the usual feelings that lately you felt when it came to him.
You cursed yourself stupid when you realized that you cycle was coming, and that every year you were in a mood until Azriel showed up, your hormones demanding your mate.
“Y/N”
Your name fell from your mouth and just by hearing it you noticed something different. It was new, and at the same time, you thought you recognized it somehow. You looked to his empty hands, to the syphons on his shoulders and chest and truth-teller on his side.
It looked like you had interrupted something important to him. But instead of running away from him like the last two times, you took a step closer.
“Are you going on a mission?” you pointed with your chin to his leather, eyes stopping at his chest. There was that thing, that you couldn’t name.
“Just came back. I was…”
Azriel looked to the building he just exited and for a moment, in silence. You had met a bunch of times since the incident in the market, and you had started having longer conversations. About the weather, about your bakery, and even about his family, who you finally knew officially.
Certainly, your relationship had improved, although it wasn’t just fixed yet. When he didn’t answer, you were reminded of all the times he had kept things to himself, either out of fear or doubt.
He seemed to doubt between telling you and keeping it to himself. Any other time, you knew, he would have kept it to himself. He had done it, in the past – when you asked him about his job, or tried to understand his past. Many times where he had evaded the truth or his emotions.
Your mood, that had been in a rush since you left the bakery, fell a little at his silence. He looked torn and you were ready to leave, before he answered.
“This is Madja’s house. I meet her here so we can talk, usually during the week” he looked back at you, watching the surprise of his statement. “But something happened and I needed to talk to her”
“What happened?”
Azriel’s lips were pressed tight, debating on whether he should tell you or not. He wouldn’t have doubted about it a year ago – he wouldn’t tell you, because in his eyes, it would only hurt you more than he already had. But he had learnt new things, and had realized that a relationship was built on trust. And that his fears, his perception of the reality, had broken yours.
He had cut the mission short when he had noticed, though he wasn’t sure he had ever done something like that. Azriel didn’t know what had triggered it, why it happened in the Winter court and not anytime sooner.
Madja, of course, had had an answer ready – an answer that had left him staring at her door for long twenty minutes before you appeared.
“Kallias should have sent something to Rhysand, but he didn’t” he started, not sure why he was traveling so far from the event. “So I went to check. Turns out someone must have taken it and, well, I tried to…”
He trailed off before he could finish, aware of your confusion. You never talked about what he did for Rhysand, in any court. No matter how big or small was the assignment, he didn’t tell you about it.
But that wasn’t what your confusion was about, at least not all of it. You couldn’t possibly notice because you had given it for granted since the beginning, but Azriel did notice. He noticed the change as soon as it happened, and babbled when he explained to Rhysand what he should have been feeling for years.
Had explained to Madja moments ago, who had given him a knowing smile and a proud nod.
“I accepted the bond” he confessed, continuing before you could say anything else. “I don’t know how, or why, but I was there and suddenly I was hit with – with this in my chest, and I don’t know why it wouldn’t happen sooner”
“You accepted the bond” you repeated, looking between his chest and face.
“I don’t know how, or why now. I was, thinking… And it hit me” Azriel smiled sadly, not saying what his thoughts were about – what they had been about since that night. “I didn’t want to tell you, because, this is, you don’t have to do anything now. Me accepting the bond doesn’t change what I did”
Azriel hadn’t meant to tell you, neither to be so vague and ridiculously nervous about it.
It had been a surprise when, in the middle of a conversation, he felt it. He had been thinking about you, because there were flowers and they were pretty against the cold weather, and to him, you were the prettiest thing the Cauldron had made. One moment Kallias had been going through the last movements of the package and the next the high lord was looking at him with raised brows.
Congratulating him for something that should have happened six years ago.
“It’s not that I didn’t want the bond before, Y/N” he continued when you didn’t say anything. “I promise you, I didn’t know how to accept it. I didn’t know that I deserved it”
Azriel had thought, and he still wanted to, that you so pretty that you were meant for someone else. That it was borrowed time, that he didn’t deserve the bond just as he didn’t deserve you. With Madja and Rhys, they had had deep conversations about his mental health, about his version of life where he lived through a glass of pain and rejection.
As he stared at your surprised form, he tried not to let hope leak into his heart. He knew it didn’t fix what was broken, but he hoped it was the first step of a long recovery to win you back.
Only if you could confirm or deny, instead of stare at him.
“Say something” Azriel finally broke, almost begged. “Whatever you want. Just say something”
And you wanted to, because wasn’t that what you had wanted? You had fooled yourself lately thinking about may what ifs. What if he had accepted the bond in the bagging, what if he had told you that he wasn’t fine, that he was broken and needed help.
What if you had helped him and not rushed things when he wasn’t ready. Now, it felt like the Cauldron was giving you that opportunity, only that you didn’t know how to react.
You finally looked away from him and decided to give an experimental tug on the bond, to see if anything had changed.
It had.
“Az”
It was a chuckle, maybe the beginning of a cry. It was anger but also relief because what came back from that tug wasn’t what you usually felt. It was stronger, solid, as if there was a physical string between your bodies that kept you linked.
Usually, it was just an intense feeling that was enough for you. But now that you felt him tugging back, felt him loving you, you couldn’t hold back another laugh. He shoved down through it everything he felt – adoration, love, joy. Many fears that had you stumbling towards him, and pain.
So much pain that your smile dropped. His dropped too, and you felt the bond getting fainter.
“That’s another reason. I didn’t want you to feel… that” Azriel retreated the bond farther. “I have so many fears and pains here that I couldn’t even imagine sharing them with you. And that – “
“You don’t have to feel ashamed” you cut him off, your voice hoarse. “I love you the same”
Words were unnecessary when you hugged his middle and buried yourself in his chest. He curled around you, like he had done so many times.
The channel snapped open again, and you just closed your eyes tightly. It was an endless source of emotions, and it broke you that most of them were bad. There was rejection, from so many people that it felt like an angry, black bull coming your way. Sadness that felt overwhelming and never ending, always coming in waves when Azriel didn’t expect it.
You also felt disgust, and you only held him tighter when you discovered it was self-disgust. Not only at the things that he had done, but also at what had been done to him. The scars on his hands, the shadows around him. He had hated himself for so long he had forgotten how to love.
But then, at the bottom, there was something bright, and that part you realized it was only dedicated to you. There was his family too, but it wasn’t as intense as his love for you. Everything that he lacked during his life, that he yearned for, was tucked where it mattered the most.
“I love you” he whispered against your head, softly. “I love you”
You didn’t answer, just raised your head until you could brush your lips against him. Later, you would have time to blame the cycle, which you wouldn’t get for another two months, or the emotions of the moment. But you knew it was just what you needed, what you both deserved, when you felt him kissing back.
At the beginning, it was just his lips against yours, and it was enough. Your noses brushed each other, you got on your tiptoes and his wing cocooned both of you. His hands only pressed you tighter against his body when you moved your lips against his, brushing the edge of your tongue against his bottom one.
Azriel could barely keep himself straight when you silently asked for permission to open his mouth, which he happily obliged.  
From that moment, it was crashing. The kiss was only a physical proof of your feelings traveling through the mated bond, so wild and intense you couldn’t tell which one was his or yours.
“I’m sorry, darling” he whispered against your lips, giving you no time to reply. “I’m sorry for hurting you, for being a coward. I’m sorry”
“I forgive you. We don’t keep secrets anymore” you managed to say between kisses.
“Never” Azriel answered while leaving kisses on your cheeks and nose.”
“And we’ll talk about our emotions, and feelings. You’ll tell me about your life when I ask”
“Always”
“You won’t close off to me” you pulled his head away and made him look at you.
While you held his face between your hands, Azriel smiled. It was a different smile from the previous ones, from the ones you had seen so far. It was carefree, loving, and yours.
Your thumb brushed the corner of his eye, his upper cheek, the border of his nose.
“I’m here, Azriel. Always. So you don’t have to hide anything from me, or to be ashamed or afraid. I’m here” you closed the distance once more, controlling the kiss by holding onto his face. “Right around the corner”
“Right around the corner” he repeated, dipping his head and sealing all his promises with another kiss.
Want to read more? Check out my side blog @imaginesmaimasterlists, where I keep all the masterlists! Feedback is always appreciated
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personasintro · 7 months
Text
Mutual Help | #32
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↳ 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬; in order for you to pretend to be his girlfriend, he helps you with your sexual desires ⏤ he calls it mutual help
⇢ 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: jungkook x reader
⇢ 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: fake dating au, fluff, angst, smut, slow burn
⇢ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: explicit language
⇢ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 5.4k+
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⇠ 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐯. | 𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐱 | 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭 ⇢ 
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The first message full of shock comes from Jimin, sometime in the middle of the week after you've had the time to look at your phone. Clicking on the message he sent you, your brows furrow in a slight confusion as a picture comes into view. You quickly realize it's a screenshot, not just an ordinary screenshot though. It's from Jungkook's Instagram.
Jiminie: wtf are you guys back together??? 
There's no doubt that you're not the one in the picture holding hands with Jungkook. You would know if you were the one in it, but you know very well who it is. The picture itself is simple but soft at the same time, them holding hands as a sunset shines in the background making it more artistic and beautiful. He captioned it with a simple heart emoji, not tagging her or anything that could reveal the true identity of a person he's holding hands with.
"no, it's not me" you reply back, nibbling on your bottom lip wondering if it's your place to reveal Jungkook's mysterious 'new girlfriend'. Surely, Jimin is going to be curious who it is when it's not you and your assumption proves to be right when a new message comes up on your screen.
Jiminie: he's got a new girlfriend already??? who is it?
Deciding that Jungkook wouldn't post that picture in the first place if he didn't want anyone to know yet, your thumbs hover over the screen for a few seconds before you think 'fuck it' and type your answer.
"it's Kiko"
The three dots appear instantly and then they're gone, obviously describing Jimin's shock before your phone is flooded with a set of new messages.
Jiminie: kiko??? 
Jiminie: you can't be serious
Jiminie: please tell me this is a joke
Jiminie: wtf
Jiminie: this has to be a joke right??!!
Jiminie: are you okay?
Right, he thinks you and Jungkook were dating forreal, he doesn't know about the deal and that you're not heartbroken like you probably should be. That's if you were his real girlfriend in the first place.
And you do feel bad about not telling him the truth, but you and Jungkook had a deal where you both agreed not to tell anyone. Plus, a message is not a place to reveal such a thing. You know you can trust Jimin, he wouldn't tell anyone if you told him what it was really about but you're not in the mood to make any fuss about it.
"I am, don't worry about me :) I'm really fine" you assure him, knowing he probably doesn't believe you until he talks to you about it in person but fortunately, he lets it go and sends you a thumbs up.
You tuck your phone back into your jeans before your name resounds in the room, Junho calling for you with his usual frown.
"Y/N? Can you please help us?"
You nod, ignoring the way he's glaring at you for using your phone when it's not your break yet. Coming into the room full of people and a few models, you notice Yoongi standing beside Junho with his impressed look and you just know he's mentally sending curses at Junho for bossing around everyone, barking orders.
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The chattering of people fills the room, along with clicking sounds and occasional phone beeping that makes you sight at the distracting sounds. The pencil in your hands clicks against your wooden desk, staring at the blank paper in front of you. Your body craves for some more caffeine, in desperate need to wake you up from your slumber and lack of inspirational state. You're supposed to come with new location ideas for the next photoshoot in less than a week, the deadline slowly making you lose your cool. The cold weather narrowed a lot of options for you. You've barely managed to come up with two ideas, the very ones that are sitting at the bottom of your desk in hope you'll come up with something better.
Looking at the time on your phone, you sigh when you still got twenty minutes into a break. Someone would surely notice if you'd just stand up and make your way to the cafeteria area.
Your boss wouldn't surely appreciate seeing you there before your actual break time. Just as thoughts whether you should risk it or not, Junho walks on your floor with a man beside him. Your brows furrowing in confusion, trying to identify him from a distance, the realization makes you confused even more.
Jungkook walks beside your boss, a camera securely held in his hands before he takes it with one hand, shaking your boss' with the other one. With a sweet smile, which is hard to see from him, he waves at him before he disappears behind the corner, probably going back to his office.
He stands there, looking around with slightly scrunched eyes and soon enough, his eyes find yours before a wide grin spreads on his lips. He's walking towards you, catching some of your co-workers' eyes at the new face but he ignores them, grinning at you.
"Hey, slacker." he greets you, setting his camera onto your desk. Slacker. Has he met Yoongi?
"What are you doing here?" you ask him confusingly, not believing that Jungkook is in the same building as you. You've never seen him here before and it's quite a surprise.
"The company asked me if I could shoot models," he answers with a shrug, looking around since this is the first time he's here. "I was so surprised when they called me. I was thinking about telling you when we were on the phone the other day, but I thought surprising you would be better." he grins, obviously pleased with his plan when he sees your confused frown and open mouth.
It's no lie Jungkook has many experiences taking photos of models. In addition to weddings and other celebration events, he used to take photos of his pretty classmates back in college while he added those pictures to his portfolio. Those girls looked like models for sure, posed like they've been doing it for years or maybe it was just Jungkook's great skills of photographing and editing. You vividly remember him shooting a few models when he worked for some modeling company for over a year. He used to add those pictures on his Instagram, earning him exposure and a couple of hundred new followers.
"How did I not know about this?" you ask, the question more aimed at Junho and the rest of the team since you usually would know if there were any changes with the photographer.
Jungkook shrugs, "They told me the previous photographer got sick or something. I don't really care though, this company pays so well." he beams, visibly enthusiastic about the pay but can you blame him?
Snorting, you shake your head at him. "Are you scheduled for the photoshoot that's in twenty minutes?" you ask him curiously.
"Yeah, your boss just went over some of his ideas, mainly informing me about the theme and things like that. Is he the one you complained about?" he asks, making sure none of your co-workers could hear him, even though they would most likely agree with you.
Junho can be a real asshole, especially when he's stressed and thinks everyone is his servant. "Yeah."
"He wasn't that bad." Jungkook shrugs and you recall him smiling at your best friend, a very rare sight if someone asks you.
"Trust me, he's usually a dick. It must be because you're either a stranger or because he's in a good mood." you point out.
"It's my charm," he grins, sitting at the edge of your desk as you take his appearance into account.
For today, he swapped his usual cargo pants and oversized hoodie (among other pieces of clothes that he seems to love) with black jeans and denim jacket with a white shirt tucked underneath. Still, you notice his favorite black boots that he seems to wear all the time and it makes the corner of your lips tug upwards.
"People love me." he adds, causing you to snort.
"Oh, get over yourself," you roll your eyes at his confidence as he's joking of course, scrunching his nose a bit at that while he laughs. "Jimin texted me the other day," you start once the two of you calm down, Jungkook's eyes looking at you with interest. "He saw the picture of you and Kiko."
"Yeah," he chuckles lightly, looking down at his lap for a moment. "He spammed me with messages asking if it's really her."
"Sorry, I was the one who told him it's her. He texted me and I didn't know what to say, I didn't really wanna lie to him." you confess, seeing him giving you a wave and tells you not to worry about it.
"I'd told him, it's not like it's a secret or something. Don't worry about it." He gives you a smile.
"So, how are you guys?" you ask, trying to give him a smile back but you rather focus your eyes on your desk as you let go of the pen and lean yourself against the chair.
Over the week, you barely had spoken together, mainly over a text or you sending to each other meme pictures. Thus, you never had a chance to really ask how their relationship is going so far. The last time you talked about it was at the bar and then none of you brought it. There never was a reason to bring it up to be honest, it doesn't seem like a topic to go through a text. Or maybe Jungkook purposely doesn't bring her up knowing you're not very fond of her and it's still new.
"Good, I took her on a date yesterday," he answers sheepishly (or maybe cautiously) but then when he sees you nod, he continues. "Like I said, we're taking it slow. She's supposed to come over tonight for the first time since, you know... we broke up."
Come over, huh? Well, it's not like she hasn't been there before. She used to practically live there and she would, if Jungkook had the chance to ask her to move in. It's just a matter of time before Jungkook will think about asking her again, that's if their relationship will be good like he's hoping it'd be.
"Are you nervous?" you ask curiously, noticing how the amusement that was there just a few minutes ago is gone.
"No," he quickly disagrees, "I just wonder how it'll go, I guess. I mean... the dates have been amazing but I'm more cautious now. Does that make sense?" he lets out a chuckle, but it comes out nervous and maybe even embarrassed.
It makes your features soften as you give him a gentle smile. "Of course, it does. It's only fair for you to be cautious." you assure him.
However, if he's going to feel cautious for the rest of their relationship, you don't see how that'll do any good. On the other hand, you see that he's trying and he definitely doesn't need your honest opinion about it, or more likely hear it since he probably knows it by now. All he needs is support and maybe someone that won't judge him for his decision.
"But I'm excited too, don't get me wrong. But it feels so weird at the same time. Anyway, it's going to be a chill evening, maybe we'll watch a few movies or something." he shrugs, a little pout on his lips as he seems unsure about tonight's plans.
You nod along his words, trying not to let them affect you so much. You wonder if he's going to call you to watch a movie sometime like he used to. There are still some doubts you have, wondering if he's not going to neglect you like the first time.
"Mr. Jeon, are you ready?" Junho calls, visibly trying to mask the surprise of you knowing Jungkook and how close you seem to be, considering he's sitting on the edge of your desk while you're slouched on the chair, a complete opposite of your usual ladylike appearance.
You cough, straightening yourself while Jungkook snickers underneath his breath at you.
"Yeah, sure." he calls out to Junho, turning to him briefly before he grins at you.
"Go on, Mr. Jeon before he'll bite off your head for making him wait." you joke underneath your breath, Jungkook giving you a playful roll of your eyes.
"See ya." he waves at you and you do the same thing, not really sure if his words are just an empty promise. It's in the stars when you'll see him again.
As you're chilling on your couch later that evening, too caught up with watching a new movie while stuffing yourself with ramen, surrounded by no one's presence but your own, your phone that's been sitting on the coffee table for quite some time vibrates with a new message. You're halfway with getting noodles into your mouth as you glance at your phone, Jungkook's name flashing on your screen.
Maybe the universe listened to your silenced thoughts that you've never spoken loudly, because they're exactly that. Silenced thought. Perhaps, it's Jungkook's way of telling you that time things could be different. Or maybe that you underestimated him too soon.
Kook: karaoke night on friday? jimin and tae could tag along too
Putting down the chopsticks, you pick up the phone and unlock it before staring at the message for a moment when the screen illuminates your face. You don't realize that you stare at the message, the movie long forgotten and is just a blunt noise in the background. It's understatement you're quite surprised by his message, considering you thought he'd be spending his Friday night with his girlfriend.
Your thoughts are interrupted with Jungkook's name flashing on your screen, this time in a form of incoming call which you take with a grin spreading on your most likely stained lips from ramen. Before you can say something, Jungkook is already one step ahead of you.
"You know I can see you read my text?" he asks amusingly and you can picture his own grin perfectly, hearing it clearly in his voice.
Snorting, you reach for the controller and pause the movie. "Too scared I would left you on read?" you joke, hearing him feign an offended and dramatic gasp.
"You wouldn't!" he continues, causing you to laugh at him before his own laugh boosts through the speaker. "Well, I'm deeply disappointed. I was looking forward to singing our hearts out on Friday night."
Your shoulders shake at the chuckle you let out, amused with your best friend. "I was about to reply to you," you inform him, smiling as you say it which he can certainly hear. "Guess I had to process your text, you surprised me." you joke, with no intention to let out a bitter remark.
Frankly, it's not a bitter remark and it surely hasn't sounded like one, the light and amused tone is just enough evidence that you meant no harm. And Jungkook knows that, yet he catches onto the double meaning of your words and hears the unsure and nervous chuckle you give him, once you realize how it sounded.
"Y/N," he calls out softly, making you feel like an idiot for even saying such a thing.
You nibble on your bottom lip, not sure what to say.
"I told you, I'm not neglecting you again,"
It's weird. Jungkook is probably the only person who can read you so accurately, almost as if he knows what's going through your head.
And you smile, letting out a puff of breath that you've been holding since he called out your name. He tells you he's not taking a no for an answer, causing you to giggle while a clear happiness erupts in your chest.
Perhaps, this time will be different after all.
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"I had fun tonight, thank you." Kiko's soft voice reaches Jungkook's ears as soon as he turns off the engine, turning his head to look at her with a gentle smile.
"I had fun too," It had been a casual evening spent watching a movie, talking and joking around, maybe a few innocent kisses here and there. He even hesitated when he gathered his car keys to take her home, thinking about asking her to stay over but then he had to remind himself he wants to take it slow. Of course, it doesn't mean her sleeping over has to end with them sleeping together. He's not quite sure he's ready for that, even though he prayed he wouldn't sport a boner whenever they kissed.
He still has a lot of things to figure out, first he had to make sure he actually doesn't feel repulsed kissing her. He doesn't. He had found kissing her easy and natural, no thought of someone else crossed his mind while their lips were moving together. That's a good thing.
Jungkook is the one who asked to take things slow, Kiko is just respecting it and doesn't want to cross any boundaries, realizing how lucky she is right now. She even thinks to ask him to come up for a moment but she refuses it, Jungkook's request repeating in her mind.
They stare at each other, Jungkook's eyes dropping down at her lips before he leans towards her. She meets him halfway, letting their lips meet for the last time tonight. It's slow and tender, full of emotions as Jungkook cups her face while unbuckling his seatbelt to get closer to her.
As much as tonight has been nice, nicer and more comfortable than Jungkook thought, he still spent some time wondering how he feels about certain things. Of course, he wanted her and he is happy. For the first time, he doesn't feel heartbroken when he stares into her brown eyes. Forgiven but not forgotten, just like he said to her when they met up for dinner. Therefore, he's had enough time to think about how he wants this to work.
He's aware of Kiko patiently waiting on any more requests coming from him. She's determined to listen to him and do everything in her power to save their relationship.
"I don't want to know," he whispers when he slightly pulls away from her lips, their foreheads pressed together while he inhales her sweet perfume. She smells like roses.
He recognizes confusion in her eyes, causing him to clear his throat before he lets out a light sigh. "I don't want to know who it was. I don't want to know anything about it. The less I know is better. Then I won't be thinking about it that much."
She pulls away with a pained expression, nodding along his words to let him know she understands and will fully respect that. She doesn't want to bring it up either, she's ashamed and perhaps she'd want to clear some things out after all, but like Jungkook said... the less he knows is better.
"I'm sorry," she whispers, leaning back in the seat as she stares out of the window at the apartment building she lives at. "I'm so sorry."
There's nothing for Jungkook to say. He doesn't want to say 'it's okay' because it's not. Maybe someone would call him stupid for getting back to her, but he's not that stupid to persuade her that what she has done is okay. She hurt him and she's able to see that whenever she looks into his deep eyes. Still, the young couple believes their love is stronger than this. They're surely not the first couple to get back together under such circumstances. Only a few people would truly understand their – Jungkook's decision.
"What's done is done," he says, briefly looking in front of him before he looks back at her. "I want this to work."
She nods, agreeing with him. "Of course, I want that too."
"Just... don't break my heart again." he mumbles softly, looking down at his lap.
Someone would say Jungkook is a tough man, especially when seeing his build figure and tattoos covering his skin. But he's got more layers than that, he's not a tough man at all actually. However, only a few people know that Jungkook is quite sensitive.
"I won't," she says determined but still softly, "I'd never do such a thing."
"But you did." Jungkook says, his brows frowning. He doesn't mean to sound like he's blaming her again, all he wants is to not think about it that much and maybe learn how to live with it. But it'll take time.
"I'd never do such a thing again," she corrects herself, taking his hands in hers. The size of their hands is almost funny but Jungkook stares at them with soft eyes. "I'll do whatever you want me to, Kookie. Just say the word. I love you so much, I'm sorry I hurt you."
She told him that a couple of times, she's just making sure he knows that.
He nods, wishing he could trust her just like that but she'll have to earn it. Words are not enough, it's the actions. So, for the last time tonight they kiss and it's full of pain, but of love as well. Giving him that tiny assurement that things are able to get better. Maybe it'll hunt him for quite some time but if he wants her, he'll have to learn how to accept it and live with it.
And maybe it'll destroy him or just prove him that he's not stupid for making that decision, but strong instead. And full of love too.
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"Come on, Y/N! One song!"
You roll your eyes for the hundredth time at your best friend, sinking in your seat beside Jimin and Taehyung in hope their bodies could swallow you whole and your best friend would not be able to see you.
"I'm not drunk enough for this!" you reason, hearing Taehyung and Jimin laugh.
What, they know it's true. Jungkook knows that too. You've to at least have some alcohol inside you to be able to sing aloud in front of them, especially when Jungkook sings freaking good. You'd sound like a broken siren beside Jungkook, you're not ready for that embarrassment while being sober.
Jungkook cackles, putting down the mic. "Coming right up." he sings, opening the mini fridge in the small karaoke room that you rented for today's evening.
He pulls out a beer and hands it to you, in hope you'll sing your heart out with him soon. As much as he's enjoying singing with Taehyung and Jimin, the two of you are crazy whenever it's karaoke night.
"Okay, let's sing... Candy Shop!" Jimin yells excitedly, already turning on the song as he grabs one of the mics. "You, get drunk!" he points at you, raising a brow as you chuckle and open the beer for yourself, taking a gulp. "Let's go boys!"
You watch the three of them rapping, Jimin imitating the woman's voice while you record them, cackling on the small black leather sofa. He starts wiggling his ass, Jungkook not being able to sing how much he's laughing while Taehyung tries his best, singing and laughing at the same time. Their faces are red, their laughs filling up the room with your own as Jimin turns to you, wiggling his brows.
"Oh no!" you yell, already putting your legs up but Jimin slaps your legs back down, his ass right in front of you as he's giving you a lap dance while trying to rap the song.
You laugh, your stomach hurting while you flick off Taehyung when you notice him recording it. Knowing him, he's already posting it on his Instagram stories. Jungkook throws his head back, laughing as he claps excitedly, finding your red cheeks more than amusing.
Idiots. But they're your idiots.
One hour later and your third can of beer, things progressed a lot. You're no longer sitting and laughing at your friends, saving your own embarrassment for later.
"Are they... fucking serious?" Jimin mumbles with bewilderment on his face, watching you and Jungkook jumping while singing one of Rihanna's songs.
"We found love in a hopeless place, We found love in a hopeless place!" you both sing, gripping your mics tightly while you're too close to each other, noses almost touching.
You can feel Jungkook's breath on your face, his cologne hitting your nose while you both act dramatically just for the song. Completely clueless to your two other friends in the room that stare at you totally dumbfounded.
"Didn't they... break up?" Taehyung asks, leaning towards Jimin while he shares the same look of confusion, sitting on the couch beside his friend.
"They did," Jimin answers, seeing the two of you jumping as the chorus starts to play. "It's better than some tension or hatred feelings between them, right?" he asks unsurely, still finding it weird the two of you are completely fine when you were dating only recently.
"It's the way I'm feeling I just can't deny, but I've gotta let it go!" Your voice boosts through speakers, your hand dramatically touching Jungkook's side of face while he plays along, leaning to your touch.
It's crazy that you keep going, even after singing top hits for the last half an hour. You're both breathless, your hair disheveled as if you've ran a marathon but all you've done so far is jump around and dance.
Jungkook looks somehow similar to you, his hair put in a bun to keep it from his face. His cheeks flushed, both from the alcohol and from the constant singing and dancing.
God, you just hope you won't get kicked out of this place. You're sure the two of you can be heard from the outside, but you can't bring yourself to care. One, you're already drunk and two, you're having fun. The song ends sooner than you wanted it to and you quickly pick another one, seeing Jungkook grinning from the corner of your eyes as he starts to stretch, preparing for another round of wild singing and dancing.
Jimin and Taehyung are watching you, but the two of you are too busy to notice that look on their faces.
"'Cause you are the piece of me I wish I didn't need, chasing relentlessly, still fight and I don't know why," you and Jungkook sing together, already somewhere around the tenth song by now. "If our love is tragedy, why are you my remedy? If our love's insanity, why are you my clarity?"
"They're so fucking weird." Taehyung comments, staring with his big eyes at the two of you.
Jungkook grabs the back of your head, bringing you closer to him while you giggle while singing, your fingers gripping the fabric of his shirt.
"It's them," Jimin shrugs, taking a gulp from his own beer. "They have always been different than most best friends."
"Yeah, they're exes now too." Taehyung deadpans while Jimin rolls his eyes, but silently agrees with his younger friend.
After the song ends, Jungkook proudly declares he's going to "take a piss" (his words) causing Taehyung to tell him he's going too, leaving you and Jimin alone. You plop next to Jimin, pouting when he hands you an orange juice instead of a beer can. You've had enough, you can feel it that you're getting sleepy as soon as you allow your body to relax. However, with alcohol in your system you wouldn't be too opposed to drinking some more.
Unfortunately for a drunk you, Jimin already knows you by now and even offers you some crackers which you decline, sipping on orange juice.
"Are you and Jungkook really fine?" He takes the privacy of the room to address his confusion and worry, seeing you lean against the sofa before you glance at him with a slight frown.
"Yeah," you nod, "I already told you." You did, through text. He wants to see and hear you saying it.
"But he's back with Kiko." he points out as if you didn't know, causing you to chuckle as you shake your head.
"No, shit, Sherlock. I know." you laugh, met with Jimin's frown as he seems completely dumbfounded all over again.
"And you're not a little bit hurt by that? I'm sorry, I just find it hard to believe that you don't care and are completely fine with it."
"I'm not," you shrug, sweeping a few hair strands off your face that manage to fall out of your messy bun. "But just because she cheated. He doesn't deserve that. She doesn't deserve him." you slur out honestly, shrugging as Jimin nods agreeing.
"Yeah, but that's it? That's the only reason you don't like them together?"
Perhaps you're drunk, but you're not stupid and recognize the hidden meaning behind Jimin's interrogation. "What are you on about, Jimin? Spill it out." you raise your brow at him, seeing him give you a little distressed look.
"Isn't it because... I don't know, you love him, maybe?"
You almost choke on your spit, Jimin patting your back once you almost shoot from your seat, staring at you with wide and worried eyes. "You good?"
Ignoring his question, you glare at Jimin. "I don't love Jungkook." you inform him, causing his mouth to open.
"You don't?"
"No," you shrug, "I mean... I don't love him like that."
"And how do you love him then?" he asks confusingly.
"Like a best friend." you answer casually, deciding to taste the bacon flavored crackers after all.
You stuff your mouth, ignoring Jimin's eyes on you. "But you were dating." he points out.
It makes you snort but you don't comment any further. "Yeah, and we're not anymore. We're best friends."
"But didn't you guys love each other when you were dating?"
You turn to him, glaring at him as he quickly jumps to explain himself. "Sorry, I just thought you wouldn't be dating if you guys didn't love each other or had any deeper feelings for each other. You wouldn't risk your friendship like that."
You pause, stopping your chewing before you swallow it slowly. But Jimin sees the way you froze for a second and that's all he needs to confirm his suspicion. "You're not telling me something." It's not a question, it's a realization.
"Jimin," you sigh, mentally cursing yourself for not controlling your reactions better. But it's not fair of him to interrogate you while you're drunk.
"It's okay, you don't have to tell me," he tells you softly, "But no matter what it is, you can tell me when you feel like it."
"I know," you tell him softly, giving him a faint smile. "Thank you, but I'm fine really." you assure him, earning a nod from him.
Wiping your sweaty hands against your jeans, you straighten yourself as Jungkook and Taehyung come back, grinning and laughing about something.
"You guys ready to go?" Taehyung asks, the only person completely sober since he's the driver for tonight.
You're sure you won't have any voice tomorrow morning, but surely will have a hangover from the alcohol you've drank tonight. Jimin helps you to get you to stand up, eyeing you worriedly when he sees you stumble but you laugh it off, leaning against Jungkook once everyone gets out of the room.
"I'm drunk," you comment while you wait for Taehyung and Jimin to pay for tonight, each of you splitting the bill beforehand.
Jungkook chuckles, holding you tighter when he feels you sliding down a bit.
"Today was fine. I mean fun." you blubber, causing Jungkook to hum while he stares at Taehyung and Jimin before glancing back at you.
Your eyes are already fluttering shut while a lazy smile makes its way on your lips.
"It was," he agrees grinning, "Let's get you home."
With Taehyung and Jimin approaching the two of you, you all are ready to go back home. They make sure you get into your apartment safely, bidding their goodbyes while you do the same thing, ready to take a shower and go straight to your soft bed.
You go to bed with a smile on your face, memories of tonight replaying in your head having no idea what the universe has prepared for the both of you.
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magneticflower · 4 months
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When is it not raining in Ketterdam?
I got rather inspired and wanted to draw Kanej since it had been a while. It snowballed into me also writing a little thing to go along with it. I hope you enjoy both sjsj. The rest of the writing will be under readmore~
 It almost feels like old times, being out on the streets of the Barrel in the wee hours of the morning instead of at the Crow Club to meet her. Almost. Except he wasn't making his way through the Barrel to scout out a target or to discuss intel without the risk of being heard with her, and they weren't teenagers anymore. He was heading towards the docks for a goodbye. It wasn't the first time he had done so in the last five years, and provided her Saints kept watch like she said they did, it wouldn't be the last. 
He made his way down to berth twenty-two and could already see her waiting for him at the railing on the side of her ship, her familiar figure silhouetted by what streams of moonlight could make it through the smoggy sky that encased the Barrel most evenings. He preferred the times when she was silhouetted by the sunsets that only seemed to be visible when she returned, but he couldn't begrudge her for leaving to where she was at her best. He just hated how he felt in the hours leading up to and after her departure. Kaz pulled himself together just fine after, but he had never entirely managed to shake himself of those hours. Maybe one day.
"Punctual as always, Kaz," she said as he made his way to stand in front of her along the railing.
"I know how you like your sleep. I won't keep you long."
"I don't mind losing some sleep, not if it is for you. Saints know I have done it plenty of times before."
"I distinctly remember several instances of you grumbling about that."
Inej rolled her eyes, "Are you trying to keep this brief because you've got somewhere you would rather be, Kaz?"
No, there wasn't a place in the Barrel that he would rather be than right here, right now. Perhaps only his office, but only if she was there with him. "I am trying out being considerate."
"Not what I asked."
Kaz exhaled through his nose, "You know the answer to that, Inej."
Luckily for him, she wasn't keen on being as obstinate as he usually was, so instead of insisting on a real answer, she simply asked, "Then why are you so far?"
He eyed her momentarily, "How could I be closer than I already am while on the dock?"
Inej's eyes looked down and his own followed suit. "Are you telling me you want me to climb up those crates?"
She looked back up, "Well, I may or may not have had my crew leave those right there for that very reason. Come to whatever conclusion that gives you."
"It was raining earlier. They're wet."
"When is it not raining in Ketterdam?"
"Right now."
"Kaz." She gives him a familiar look that tells him she is done with the back and forth. He either does it or doesn't. Of course he does it.
"If I fall on my ass climbing these..." he muttered as he made his way up the boxes to fulfill her request to come closer.
Inej laughed, "If you do perhaps you'll gain greater appreciation for what I used to do for you. At the very least you will leave me with a great memory to reflect on during the less than favorable nights when I'm gone."
Kaz was too busy making his way up to give a retort. It wasn't as if these were particularly difficult, they were just a few measly crates, but his leg never liked this sort of weather and it was proving to stand by that.
"Now that wasn't so bad was it?" She said once he fully made it up, no unceremonious fall to be had.
"It wasn't particularly good either. We're not teenagers anymore," he countered, shifting his weight to better accommodate his leg.
Inej rested her arms on the railing so that she could lean closer to him, a grin on her face. She still had to look down at him even though he stood on the crates now. Regardless, they were closer, just like she wanted. He had wanted it too.
"You're only twenty two, Kaz, you're hardly ancient. Besides, you are the one that declines to simply come on the ship when we say our goodbyes. I know you said it is because it might wake the others, but one day you will have to oblige me, since you are giving being considerate a chance." He knew the last sentence wasn't just a request to come aboard for goodbyes. One day she wanted him to come with her. Maybe one day he would.
"It would be louder. I am not the Wraith."
"No, I suppose you are not. You're just the crow that keeps coming by because she didn't have the good sense not to feed him," she retorts, leaning forward a little more.
"I don't recall you giving me any information recently, Wraith."
"I suppose not," she said as she moved her hands down to place them on either side of his face to prompt him to lean up as she leaned closer to him as well, "Give me a minute to think of something," she finished as she closed the gap between their lips. It was soft and slow. perhaps because the two knew that this was where the goodbye started.
Almost as if Ketterdam couldn't handle the silence of their moment, Inej began to hear the pattering of the beginning of the rainy morning ahead of her. She pulled back, though only enough to stop the kiss, but not enough to let the rain hit his face. Not enough to ruin this.
"Kaz, it's raining."
"When is it not raining in Ketterdam?"
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bahrtofane · 3 months
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here we go again - pt.3
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pt. 1 , pt.2
jude x fem!reader , trent x fem!reader
empty promise after another leaves you walking in the cold. alone. on valentines day. youre never speaking to another player again. or will you? can things be forgiven?
Word count - 1.9K +
Watch it - reader so sad but dw bae it gets better ! jude. Just jude. hehehe
—--
Madrid is bleak and bland when you get back, eager to find a routine, to busy yourself with anything, everything.
It's almost like there's a big joke being played on you because you're given Jude to create promotional posters for. It makes you want to cry, but you suck it up, download the pictures and get to work. Even if you have to scribble his face out the whole time.
Avoiding Jude becomes your obsession. You make it your top priority to avoid seeing him in person under any and all costs. You refuse to go anywhere near the stadium, training facilities. Blocking official accounts and avoiding tv when you know they're set to play.
You find jude everywhere. In the cracks of sidewalks where flowers bloom. Inside coffee shops when the smell of vanilla hits your face, under bridges where graffiti of smiley faces litter the concrete. 
His presence looms over the city like a specter, mocking your attempts to move on. You long for the day when his memory no longer haunts you, when you can walk through Madrid without feeling his presence at every turn.
Until then, you cling to the hope that time will heal the wounds he left behind, and that one day, you'll be able to reclaim the city as your own. But for now, Madrid remains a bleak and lonely place, haunted by the ghost of a love lost.
—-
Trent calls you about a week after you land, in the middle of your morning routine.
“How are you?”
You stifle a sigh, picking at your nails, “I'm really just peachy Trent,” padding over to your kitchen, opening the fridge.
“You know what I mean.”
You grab what you need, using your hip to close the fridge “I don't know why you keep calling me Trent. I'm fine. Tell jude to fuck off yeah?”
You hear a sigh from the other end, “jude has nothing to do with me checking up on you.”
“Sure.” you hang up. And he doesn’t call again.
—--
The office is always full of energy on match days, and you hate how it's become a tradition to all watch together. Weather in the stands or from the actual office. Your desire to show up in a barca jersey is very very strong.
Today is one day where you walk single file to the stadium and find your seats. Curse working for madrid, it brings you a little too close to the pitch for comfort. You spend half the game on your phone, even when your coworkers gently nudge your shoulder when Jude speeds to the post, you mumble something about work that needs to be done (you're on your settings.)
Jude scores, of course he does. And it's a beautiful goal, straight power, nothing but net. You're up cheering before you can stop yourself, smiling. You're smiling at Jude scoring. 
He jogs over to the crowd per usual, caught up in the adrenaline. He doesn't think he'll ever get used to scoring at home. The feeling is unbeatable. His eyes scan the crowd, and they just so happen to land on you. 
You're here? The cheers of the crowd fade out, his arms falling to his side, he's staring right at you. He's taken back to the night he left you alone. He’s a fucking idiot. You don't look away, if anything you lean forward in your seat. You're here. 
—--
Against better judgment he goes looking for you after the game. Running down hallways still in his kit, looking a mess with grass stuck all over him. At least he managed to kick his cleats off and grab the nearest slides he could find. He's pretty sure these aren't his but he doesn't care. Not right now.
He knows the staff tend to hang around after games, the issue is where.
Curse the never ending construction. The  place is a maze, an awful one without, with it feels like he's entering a different dimension at every turn.
He hears laughing and speeds down to find himself in a lounge full of people, all who rush to him to sing praises. He smiles. Trying not to get blinded by flash photography. A voice cuts through the crowd, a soft laugh. 
You're here. Oh you're here. 
He sees you tuck a piece of paper into a folder, smiling softly, patting the back of what he assumes to be a coworker as you make your way to the exit.
He tries to get past the people who surround him, but you're already gone. He's lost you again, all while you were right in front of him.
He goes home that night unable to sleep, eat, think. He blames himself, of course he does. It's his fault isn't it?
Somewhere during his night routine he thinks that there's an ounce of hope to fix this. 
He calls trent. 
“I don't know man.” Trent mumbles on the other end. 
“I gotta at least try right?” 
There's a beat of silence that lasts a moment too long, “if that's what you want.”
Jude thanks him for his time anyway. Tucking himself into bed. 
He scrolls through instagram on his burner account, finding your account again. The request button taunts him, but he knows you wont accept. Instead clicking on your profile picture, watching it take up his screen and he sighs. He really has to get his life together doesn't he.
—--
The next time Jude sees you is at an event. Black tie in a nearby hotel. He misses getting ready with you for these, with all your products and accessories lining his sink while he watched you fondly.
“Do I look okay?” you would ask each time, leaning a hand on the sink while the other smoothed down the creases on your dress. Doing a once over in his mirror.
He would hum softly, pressing a kiss to your shoulder, “you look amazing.”
You'd blush, swatting him away playfully. Pressing a kiss to his cheek and promising to see him there.
The same mirror now stares back at him cooly. His sink is empty, as his house is. He misses the smell of your perfume, your clothes that littered his space. He misses how you made it a home.
He sees you there all the same, mingling with your coworkers. You look amazing, that hasn't changed. The dark circles under your eyes have, two purple half moons stamped rather aggressively on your skin. How long has it been since you got proper nights rest jeez.
He makes his rounds to everyone. Brand ambassadors, staff, teammates, a list of high profile people he doesn't care to repeat. He leaves your little corner last on purpose. He doesn't want anything to get in the way.
He slides over to where you hug a glass of water to your chest, nodding along to something a man in a blue suit is saying. Pfft blue what a rookie choice. Jude is in all black, did you notice? It was your favorite on him.
You did notice, and try to suppress the desire to hurl when he walks over to you. 
Jude gets to say no more than a sloppy greeting in Spanish before he's grabbed by the arm and taken back to where he thinks the owner of the hotel is standing.
You sigh in relief, and he sighs in frustration.
Fate has driven you apart once more it seems.
—--
Jude is a stubborn stubborn man. You can't seem to outrun him, no matter how many calls and texts you ignore, or block his accounts. Nor how you manage to slip out from right in front of him. Fate is on his side today it seems.
He shows up to your office, flowers in hand. Your favorite flowers, tied neatly with a ribbon of your favorite color, a card neatly tucked under the petals. 
Your coworkers are in uttersock, not even trying to hide their surprise as he marches over to your desk.
You type faster, ignoring him, or trying to. The gazes on you burn, almost as much as they did on the night he left you to rot. Why is he here?
“Hey,” he tries, meekly. He wants to punch himself in the face. Hey? Really? 
You don't look up from your monitor, opening more tabs, swiping your mouse against your desk furiously. You think the battery just fell out.
“Listen, I know I'm horrible, a piece of shit, the worst man alive, I don't deserve you in the slightless. But I love you.” he scrambled out in one breath.
You whip your head up at him,”love? You love me so much you took me to a club on valentines day?”
He winces, “it was so stupid. I'm so stupid. Please, let me make it up to you.” he pleads. 
You sigh, throwing your head back in your chair, rolling your eyes,”are you actually going to change Jude. Are you going to stop this nonsense and treat me like you actually mean what you say?”
“Yes,” he nods furiously, “I promise. Not a day will go by without me proving it to you, I swear.”
You look back at him. He's worn your favorite cologne, the sweater you used to always steal on cold nights. The flowers are beautiful. You missed him, you missed him so much, to the point that you're really considering it. 
Someone coughs in the cubicle next to you and you groan, gathering your things and hastily walking to the door, motioning for Jude to follow.
He looks like a newborn puppy, almost tripping on his feet while he follows you through hallways and corridors till you reach a stairwell you know for certain no one will walk through.
“Jude, I hope you know what you did broke me, it really broke me. I think you ruined my ego, permanently.”
He nods, leaning on the railing while he clutches the bouquet with so much force you're scared they're going to be wrung like a wet rag. 
“But,” you raise a finger to him, “ and this is a big big but, if you can prove these things instead of saying them, i'll consider giving you another proper chance okay?”
You see the tension visibly ease from his shoulders as he sighs softly, “Okay, yes, thank you. Thank you so much,” he brings the flowers forward, waiting for you to take them.
And you do, gently picking the note from the petals, you'll read this when you get home.
“I uh also, booked a dinner of your favorite place in a few days, in case you were willing to give me another chance i didn't want to mess it up again and if you don't have anything else going on and i just-” you take his hand in yours, stopping his ramblings effectively as he looks away. All of a sudden so shy as if you haven't stayed at his place for days at a time.
“I'll go Jude. I'm free, don't worry.”
“Great. 7 sound good?”
“Sounds perfect. Ill see you then okay?”
“Okay,” he mumbles, soft and sweet.
With a smile you send him off, almost flying down the stairs in pure glee. You shake your head fondly, heading back to your work. The flowers weigh more than just their physical weight. The letters feel like a ton on its own.
You hope you made the right choice.
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hunieday · 12 days
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Iori, Yuki, Touma 2024 Shuffle talk RabbiTV Episode 1
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Episode 1 - Episode 2 - Episode 3
Please note that I am not a professional translator and I'm only doing this to share the side materials to those who cannot access them, if you notice any mistakes please let me know nicely. Enjoy!
*Door opens*
Izumi Iori: Good morning...Uh. What are you doing, Yuki-san?
Izumi Iori: Wrapping your hands around Inumaru-san's biceps…
Inumaru Touma: Good morning! Izumi!
Yuki: Good morning, Iori-kun. Touma-kun said he’s been really into muscle training lately, so I was just checking him.
Izumi Iori: C-Checking him...?
Yuki: If you're aiming to be like Ryuunosuke-kun, maybe you still have ways to go.
Inumaru Touma: That’s right...! I'll work even harder!
Yuki: Yeah, keep it up.
Izumi Iori: What kind of conversation is this... I thought I walked into the wrong room for a second…
Yuki: This is the planning room for the "Monthly World Travel".
Izumi Iori: I am aware.
Inumaru Touma: Oh man, I'm looking forward to Taipei! It’s interesting that we’re going sightseeing and challenging ourselves on a mission at the same time.
Inumaru Touma: We decided the members for this project by drawing lots, but the combination of the three of us seems a bit unusual, doesn't it?
Izumi Iori: Yes, it does. We’re different types of people...
Izumi Iori: ...I'm starting to feel anxious.
Yuki: What's making you anxious?
Izumi Iori: Just, overall.
Inumaru Touma: Huh? And here I thought that a trip with the dependable Izumi and Yuki-san would be good…!
Yuki: I’m dependable?
Izumi Iori: Please don't ask me that question.
Inumaru Touma: You really are dependable! I’ve been recording and watching "NEXT Re:vale" a whole lot!
Inumaru Touma: Also, I saw the way you looked at us when we were on the show together. You were looking as if you were watching over us, and it made me straighten my back!
Yuki: Is that so. Thank you.
Yuki: Maybe because Momo was there.
Inumaru Touma: Momo-san?
Yuki: Yeah. Momo isn't with us this time so I'll have to make sure I don't space out.
Izumi Iori: ...Inumaru-san.
Inumaru Touma: Huh?
Izumi Iori: Let's do our best. We should cooperate.
Inumaru Touma: Y-Yeah...?
Yuki: We’ll have the power of a hundred people with IDOLiSH7’s brainiac Iori-kun and ŹOOĻ’s leader Touma-kun in here. (1)
Inumaru Touma: Hehe, thank you very much...! I hope I’ll be able to communicate with the locals in English at least? That's the only thing I'm a bit worried about.
Izumi Iori: I think you'll be fine. Do you have confidence in English, Inumaru-san?
Yuki: Your rap is usually so cool after all.
Izumi Iori: We have members who are fluent when they sing but completely terrible at speaking, though...
Inumaru Touma: Well, my English is just about average, but I can manage somehow! It's all about the flow and momentum!
Izumi Iori: It's really strange, but it seems like it...
Yuki: That's hilarious. Our group shouldn’t have trouble communicating with the locals then.
Inumaru Touma: Yeah! Since everyone here can speak English, I'll learn a lot of things!
Izumi Iori: ...Looking at Inumaru-san’s positive attitude is making me believe everything will work out fine.
Yuki: I'm counting on you, children. (2)
Yuki: Now let's hope it's not too hot.
[Cut to Taipei]
Izumi Iori: As expected… Taipei is bustling with tourists.
Yuki: That's right. 
Inumaru Touma: I was a little worried about the weather since the rainy season is right around the corner, but I’m glad it’s sunny!
Yuki: That’s right.
Izumi Iori: ...Are you okay, Yuki-san?
Yuki: I might not be right…
Inumaru Touma: Are you tired, Yuki-san? Want me to give you a piggyback ride?
Yuki: ...ŹOOĻ’s Inumaru Touma giving me a piggyback ride doesn’t sound too bad.
Izumi Iori: You don’t have to do that. This isn't "NEXT Re:vale" after all...
Yuki: You're right. But I'll suggest a segment where we carry someone and run to the finish line next time.
Inumaru Touma: Sounds fun! I think Tora would be the only one in ŹOOĻ who could carry me…!
Accompanying staff: Once again, thank you for joining us today! Here is the card containing the missions with hints written on it. We'll also give you a map of Taipei to explore around!
Inumaru Touma: Thank you very much! ...Uhh, the mission is... 
Inumaru Touma: "Make your way to the flower carpet!", or so the card says!
Izumi Iori: A carpet... in a flower field, perhaps. We should be able to narrow it down quite a bit this time of the year...
Yuki: The hint says "popular tourist spot," but the map we got doesn't seem to have anything that hints at it.
Inumaru Touma: Yeah... Then how about we go somewhere we can ask the locals?
Yuki: Good idea. Sounds like a task that fits Touma-kun's high communication skills.
Inumaru Touma: Thanks! How about Yongkang…jie? It says there are many restaurants to enjoy and walk around, there might even be some shopkeepers who know something!
Izumi Iori: ...I see, it’s Yǒngkāng jiē (Yongkang Street). I've heard that there are many stores here where Japanese is spoken because of the amount of Japanese tourists who visit, so we might be on the right track.
Yuki: Amazing, Iori-kun's extensive knowledge is coming into play now.
Yuki: Momo, our children are growing up splendidly.
Izumi Iori: What are you mumbling to the camera?
Inumaru Touma: Well then, let's go there for now! Yuki-san, you feeling better now?
Yuki: I'm fine. Let's just take it slow. It's hot.
Inumaru Touma: Yeah! Slow but steady wins the race or something. Izumi, if you’re in trouble, let me know right away! You look like the type who doesn't show that kinda thing on your face.
Izumi Iori: Oh, thank you...You truly are the one who keeps ŹOOĻ together, aren't you...
Yuki: Fufu. I'm glad we have this group after all.
End of Episode 1.
This is a pun on Momo’s name (Hundred), as he has a combination of Iori’s wits and Touma’s communication skills and leader status. 
Yuki says “kouhai-kun-tachi”, which sounds like a more endearing way to refer to his juniors with the addition of the “kun” honorifics commonly used for younger people, so I chose to translate it as children. You can still interpret it as “little juniors” if you wish!
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homunculus-argument · 11 months
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So today I managed to get laundry done, finally didn't fuck anything up about the scheduling. I had the drying room booked until 15:00, and I usually walk our neighbour's dog at 3 pm. I want to be punctual about it, and had a whole plan of how I'm going to get dressed and all set up before getting the laundry, going back upstairs to drop the baskets and get my hat and sunglasses and stuff and be right on time to come get her dog.
My ink nibs decided to be inconvenient and I took a minute longer to get my shoes on than I had planned, but I hurried downstairs to the laundry room nonetheless, didn't have the time to fold anything neatly, just shoved everything to the baskets. And just the second I was about to get the elevator, some inconvenient fuck upstairs pressed the button, and so the elevator swooped up before I could make it in.
Figuring that it'll take longer to wait for the elevator than to just use the stairs, even with the baskets, I hauled ass (and laundry) to the 4th floor on foot. Dropped the baskets on the floor of our apartment, grabbed my hat, and went to knock on the neighbour's door, still on time. You gotta knock, because the dog goes apeshit if anyone rings the doorbell.
She didn't answer. I waited for a few minutes, checked the time, knocked again, waited for a few minutes more. I texted her, asking if I was supposed to walk her dog today or if I misremembered. I waited a minute and knocked a third time. There was no sound from the other side. Our neighbour is an old lady, our apartments don't have any kind of air conditioning and it had been like 30 celsius all day and the sun was shining right into her apartment. Finnish houses are built to retain heat. She still hadn't answered the text. I cannot stress enough that this kind of weather can, will, and has killed old people around here.
So I called her phone. She answered. She was on a walk with her dog. I had been in the understanding that I'll come walk her dog every day unless she specifically lets me know that she doesn't need the help today, and the way she had seen it was that she'll either take the walk herself or get someone in her family to do it, and that she'll specifically let me know if she needs me. Everything was fine, it was a miscommunication, we had simply spoken past each other.
She had been on her way out as I was on my way in with my laundry. Had I just waited downstairs for the elevator, I would've passed her at the door.
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howtomakelovestay · 1 year
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"I don't usually kiss my friends" -Cedric Diggory to Harry Potter
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In the afternoon he approached Harry, who was standing with Ron and Hermione, and asked to speak in private. They headed for the gardens since the weather was still nice and it was the perfect location to discuss such a difficult matter to bring up in the first place.
"I don't usually do that kind of thing," was what came out of Cedric.
Harry tilted his head curiously. “What do you mean?”
"Kissing my friends."
His direct answer made Harry look away instantly. “Neither do I. I’ve never…”
"Was that your first kiss?"
"Did you notice?" he muttered, embarrassed.
It wasn't that Cedric had thought of it for any particular reason other than the suspicion that if someone had kissed the famous Harry Potter, he supposed it’d be known. And that Harry was, after all, younger than him and had never expressed any interest before.
"I wasn't sure," he admitted, not wanting to make him self-conscious. Cedric wasn't an expert by any means. “But it was good.”
That may not have been part of what he had planned to say.
“I kind of only got kissed by a Dementor once, so that was a big improvement.”
Cedric laughed at the joke, blushing.
That was Harry's way of agreeing too.
He wanted to tell him how he felt…
He wanted to tell him that he wouldn't mind kissing him right then and there again.
But he couldn't do it. If Harry didn't feel the same way, he wasn't sure they would manage to stay friends the same way. And even if Harry liked him too in that way, it might not be enough.
"I wouldn't want what happened to turn things weird between us. I think I misunderstood the situation… I'm sorry if I made you feel uncomfortable.”
Apologizing was something he was good at.
The detail was that it was not in relation to kissing him.
“You didn’t.”
“Really?” Cedric questioned, remembering how he himself would say something similar when it wasn't completely true. “You can tell me.”
“No, it was fine. It didn’t bother me."
It hadn't bothered him.
What could Cedric say to that?
"That wasn't your first, was it?" Harry asked.
“No, it wasn’t.”
But it was the best.
"I didn't know you had dated someone before.”
"Oh, I've never dated anyone. Those were disastrous occasions,” he blurted out, suddenly realizing that it might sound bad. “Not that this was.”
Maybe it was, in the sense that he was messed up on the inside.
Ao3: Always Yours
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play-on-skinners-box · 7 months
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SPOILERS FOR CHAPTER FIVE OF RAINCODE(And a LARGE amount of text)
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I wanted to do more Raincode furries cause they're honestly so fun and are really good practice because I'm kinda rusty in general. I only did Yuma and Makoto this time just cause it's a more manageable workload and they are some of the last ones I'm especially passionate about.
OKAY, BUCKLE UP BABY, THESE CHOICES HAVE LAYERS TO THEM. L A Y E R S
OKAY SO, at some point scrolling on tumblr I saw this post by Nadox showcasing a piece of Yuma's concept art, and in the art he was depicted with long hair. They theorized that this was what Number One originally looked like and he sheared his hair into that wimpy fresh almost bowl cut so he could pass as a trainee, AND I L O V E THAT. I herby declare it as correct on the grounds of I said so.
Going along with this idea, Yuma is a young wolf that has a lame haircut so everyone THINKS he's just a dog. I know a wolf in real life would be a lot harder to reasonably pass as a dog, so this requires a bit of anime logic tomfuckery, but I'm fine with that because Raincode already deals in its fair share of logic jank. I am simply being true to game in that regard! The way I drew him already isn't super wolf-like cause I made him all squishy looking like human Yuma, and made the veerrryyyy tips of the ears flop over because the pointy ones just didn't feel quite right. I know real wolf ears are only ever depicted as pointy but it was for the VIBE. Yeaahhh in hindsight I might have taken a few too many liberties. I suppose to make it a little more sensible you could say he's a wolfdog and not full wolf or something. Other than the logic I really like this choice because everyone would naturally assume Yuma's just a pathetic little puppy dog when his real identity is hiding in plain sight!
I went back and forth on alot of the fur aspects. How smooth is too smooth? How much of it should just look like blunt cuts? Should I even give him his human hair? Usually I don't like giving my furries human hair in general because I want them looking a lot more like animals rather than people, but for Yuma his hair is such an important part of his design that I ultimately decided to keep it on both him and Makoto.
MAKOTO IS A WOLF IN SHEEPS CLOTHING AND THAT IS SO FUN, SO SILLY, SO GOOFY, HOOOORAY(Specifically a dall sheep cause they have those big curly horns). In theory, the hardest part of choosing an animal for Yuma is that whatever his animal is needs to tie into Makoto, and also be able to be implemented in a way where their connection isn't obvious. Makoto having a mask helps of course, but if you pick a really distinctive animal for Yuma you'll have to come up with better ways to hide it. Others have gotten a lot more creative with how Makoto hides his species, but I didn't do that and went in the full direction of just giving him a disguise. Its a littlllleeeeee lazy but I'm too smitten with the idea to care. I was a little confused on what to do with the tail. I considered just chopping off the majority of it to make it look like a short little sheep tail and put the justification for it in his suuuuppper tragic past(Though I honestly don't know if homunculi can regenerate like lizards). Luckily, the pose makes it so you can't see it anyway so I don't have to grapple with the responsibly of weather or not I need to brutally amputate one of Makoto's body parts. I consider this a win.
Disregarding his actual animal, I think the sheep is also weirdly fitting because of some of their associations. When I met Makoto I wasn't sure what to make of him besides being cautiously optimistic about him not letting Yuma die(What a fool I was), and sheep/lambs/rams and animals in that ballpark can vary wildly in their depictions from literaly the devil to good little fluffy guys!
For his actual look I wanted the sheep parts to look costumey sort of. I was going for a similar effect as the blood in chapter 0, where it's very noticeable but you write off the weird things about it because it's not immediately relevant. So, the mask has fake horns attached. The hand hooves are just little caps over the paw fingers, and there are two gold and silver caps to mimic his rings and point to their artificiality. The feet are also fake and are suppose to look a little clunky like Makoto's actual shoes. His hair is also much more full looking, a little less limp; because his actual ears need some place to get tucked away. I think the main problem with this design is it'd make for a really awkward reveal, cause when he dramatically gets the mask taken off then he'd just be a canine with hooves.
For both of them I think wolf works very well in terms of their characters and their shared forte. Yuma spends most of the game struggling with needing to rely on others, and Makoto has been carrying the weight of Kanai Wards secret on his shoulders alone for like three years. They also both have the Coalescence forte, which by it's very nature requires the help of other people, and at the end of the day being with others and working together is what brings them farther then they could do alone(even if some of the themes get muddled at the end and arn't really as clear as I'd personally like I find that Kodaka's games can have some not so rock solid theming with shakey conclusions but this is what I chose to take away from it)
These aspects of their characters fit perfectly with the stereotypical idea of a strong and stoic lone wolf in contrast to real wolves being pack animals that work together to survive!
I thought I'd like Yuma's design more by a landside cause I've grown really fond of his human design, but I actually really love this version of Makoto. I guess any designs with horns or hooves just appeals to me in a way that paws don't. Still really happy with these two. They could most certainly be worse! I think they're both cute little guys though and I learned a lot about how to like, render from this so that's a bonus!
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tresapes · 15 days
Text
Short Mary & Matthew ficlet
Prompt was Mary pushes Matthew out of his (slight) depressive state during his injury with some tough love. Enjoy!
Isobel and Lavinia started making their way to the Abbey to visit Matthew early that morning, right after breakfast.
They'd found him in the library with Mary, picking books that Mary was pilling on his lap, and he was trying to hold steady. They were so engrossed with the task, they didn't notice them walk in.
Matthew had his eyes trained on Mary, who was inspecting the spines of more books, and he sighed "If we're going to move the entire library to my room we'll need more man power"
Mary didn't even look at him, as she picked another book and dropped it on his pile "You can manage. And besides, you're going through them like you're a man on a quest."
"A quest to alleviate boredom, yes."
She rolled her eyes, turning to look at him now, "You'd be less bored if you ever left the house."
He turned his face away from her, refusing to meet her eyes as he laughed darkly "And go where? And how?"
"We could at least try to go to the village. Just once. It wouldn't kill you, you know."
"No thank you. I get enough pity here, I don't need more of it for the sake of a walk. Or a roll, more like it. Unless you or... anyone else, are that eager to get rid of me."
Isobel saw a shadow pass across Mary's face, almost too quick to notice, and watched as Mary turned to face Matthew fully. He stared up at her with some defiance, as if he also knew that something was coming. Mary had opened her mouth to speak, but Lavinia chose that moment to say hello. Isobel watched as whatever staredown was going on between them was broken, as they both turned to gree them.
Lavinia moved to take her place behind Matthew, to wheel him to the seating area. Isobel stood back, still watching as Mary's shoulders dropped, ever so slightly, and she let out a long breath, unceremoniously dropping the books she was still holding back on the shelf.
"Are you all right dear?"
Mary looked up startled, as if she'd forgotten Isobel was still there. Her features back to their usual mask of politeness "Oh, yes, Isobel, thank you, I'm fine."
-----------------------------------------------
After they took their seats, Isobel and Lavinia on one sofa, Mary across from them, and Matthew facing them from his chair, the quiet seemed to overwhelm the room.
Isobel quickly decided to get the conversation going "So, what are your plans for the day?" she asked Lavinia.
The girl seemed to appreciate Isobel's strive for keeping their spirits up, and responded as brightly as she could "Well, the weather does look nice. I thought I could take Matthew to the gardens at least. We should get some sun while we can, don't you think?"
Isobel smiled back, if a bit sadly. "I do, it's a lovely idea."
There had been a frosty silence from their other two companions while tea had been served, and both of them hardly spoke a word throughout the visit, Isobel and Lavinia doing most of the work to keep the conversation going, even if Mary had been as polite as ever when spoken to.
She seemed however to have come to a decision now. Because she turned to look at Matthew quite intensely as she spoke "Isn't it just, Matthew. Don't you agree?"
Matthew's gaze was as impassive as Isobel had ever seen it, and she had seen a lot of it in the months since his injury. "What do you mean?"
"I'm just asking. Do you want to go to the gardens today?"
"Why wouldn't I?"
Mary lifted her shoulders, ever so slightly, as if to appear indifferent, but her gaze was steady "I don't know. You seemed so set against the outdoors earlier."
Matthew seemed to start getting annoyed, shifting on his chair in discomfort, as much as he could "I hardly think being pushed to the gardens is the same as being paraded around the village."
"We don't have enough trumpets for a parade. And you still haven't answered my question."
"It's a ridiculous question."
"Is it?"
Matthew shook his head, leaning closer to Mary "What exactly do you want from me?"
There was an obvious tension rising, one that must have been building for a few days at least, and Isobel saw Lavinia lean towards Matthew, probably to sooth him. Isobel put her hand on her arm, shaking her head. She rather hoped she knew what Mary was trying to do here, and she wouldn't let anyone stop her.
"I want you to stop being so pitiful. You're begining to sound like Edith. And I want you to tell us what you want to do."
"Pardon me for not being a ray of sunshine, stuck in this chair all day."
"We can get you another one if you don't like it."
Matthew seemed to come out of his posed indifference then, and responded angrily "Stop being flippant Mary, you know what I mean!"
Mary was unfazed, and she insisted "I'll be as flippant as I want until you give me an answer."
"I won't argue with you."
"That's a first. Let me get my diary, it's worth a mention."
"You don't keep a diary."
"That's beside the point. I'm tired of talking around the subject, just answer my question."
"Stop pushing me."
"Matthew, do you want to go out in the gardens today, or not?"
"I want to not be treated like a child for once! There. Is that what you want to hear? I don't need anyone's input and can decide on how I want to spend my time. And if I want to spend my day reading, I'll spend my day reading." The entire speech came out of him like an explosion, his anger making Lavinia jump while
Isobel let out a long breath, feeling somewhat relieved. She wanted to cry herself, seeing her son so upset, his eyes swimming. But he seemed to have needed it, the tension that had been filled the room to the brims suddenly dissipated.
Mary had dropped the mask of indifference she'd been hiding behind throughout the exchange, and her eyes softened with more love and care than Isobel had ever seen on any face, even as her voice remained as cool and unaffected as ever.
"Fine, then pick a book from the pile after tea. There's plenty of places to read in the house."
His answer, when it came, was finally calm again. And with some humour. "How would you know? You never read in here."
"Perhaps, but I'm not you."
Matthew chuckled, if a bit darkly "Thank God for that at least."
They finished their tea in relative peace, and Lavinia got up, saying she'd brought some of her needlework with her, and Matthew agreed they could sit in the small library, where he could read.
Isobel was following Lavinia out the room, but she turned and paused, as she saw Mary place her hand on Matthew's shoulder, in quiet comfort. She almost got up to make her own way to the door, but Matthew quickly grabbed her hand, stalling her movement.
"I..."
"Hush. Go. Read."
"I've read this one before."
"It will be easier to navigate then."
"Mary..."
They just looked at each, something understood and unspoken passing between them, as Matthew brought her hand to his lips, and dropped an almost reverent kiss on her knuckles.
Isobel walked out the door. She thought they'd seen enough tragedy in this house. But it seemed, there was another one building. And she knew there was nothing she could do about it.
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mrs-luigi-vargas · 9 months
Text
How to Become Patient Zero in One or Two Easy Steps
Rating: General Audiences Characters: Bowser, Bowser Junior, Kamek, Mario, Luigi, Peach Relationships: Bowser & Bowser Junior, Bowser & Peach, Bowser & Luigi, Bowser & Kamek Tags: Sickfic, Humor, Fluff, Kamek is Bowser’s Dad, Sicktember 2023
Summary: Bowser’s having a good feeling about this kidnapping attempt, so when he discovers he’s sick he tries to push through and hide it to see his latest scheme through to the end. This doesn't work out, obviously. Prompts: 4. Hiding an Illness, 6. Sick and Injured, 14. "I shouldn’t be worried about you, but for some reason I am", 21. "But if you stay, you'll get sick too", 30. Patient Zero Word Count: 1,352 words
[AO3 Link]
~~~
In Bowser’s opinion, this latest kidnapping scheme was going pretty smoothly so far.
Princess Peach was captured and secured, despite a small scuffle — it was equal parts fun and frustrating when someone accidentally left a weapon lying too close to her — and the Mario Bros were — well, they weren't being stopped, but they were only midway through World 2! The later surprises he had in store for them would get them for sure!
Everyone was working like a well-oiled machine, at top form, and Bowser was just going to join them. Just as soon as he finished enduring this wave of whatever crud he’d woken up with today.
Well — actually he’d woken up with it days ago, hoping to push through it as his plans fell into place. But it proved hard to ignore, with his throat so raw and his sinuses so stuffed and his very bones aching something fierce. Usually it’d be something to just sleep off and let pass, but with all these preparations to do he’d hardly had more than a few minutes to sit down, let alone take a nap. This was the longest break he’d had in a while, to be honest, hidden in some forgotten hallway taking a breather.
It wasn't like he could call all this off either; everything was way too far along for that and besides, Bowser had a good feeling about this attempt! Though, he knew if Kamek got even a whiff of the idea that Bowser was under the weather then he’d force him to cancel everything anyway. Luckily, Bowser had coincidentally sent him off earlier to supervise the World 7 and 8 work, sparing him from those scrutinizing eyes.
As for the other pair of scrutinizing eyes, though...Bowser turned to face Junior, who had been watching him suspiciously. Those were a bit more difficult to avoid.
“Hey, Junior!” Bowser’s voice cracked a little as the words left his mouth. He hid a wince.
Junior’s gaze narrowed. “...Dad, are you sick?” he asked Bowser outright.
“What? Nah,” Bowser replied a little too quickly. He realized he was leaning a hand against the wall for support and straightened abruptly, almost falling over the other way as he got dizzy for a second. “I just...uh...didn't get that much sleep last night! Working hard, you know how it is!”
Junior didn’t look convinced.
“You don't have to worry!” Bowser stifled a cough. “I’m fine! Just taking a break!”
“But what if I'm worried anyway?” Junior said, frowning up at Bowser. “Even though I'm not supposed’ta be?”
Bowser made to ruffle Junior’s hair, remembered his elevated body temperature, and then didn’t. “Well then...” he said, pasting a smirk onto his face, “I’ll show ya you don't have to be worried, by squashing those Loser Bros. flat when they get here!”
“Not if I beat them with my mech first!” Junior grinned, suspicions visibly fading at the implied challenge.
“Heh, we’ll see about that!” Ah, what else could distract him...? “Speaking of your mech, you figure out how to fit in those rocket launchers yet?”
“Almost!” Junior began rambling about his design process, successfully distracted. Bowser breathed a tiny sigh of relief, managing to cajole Junior into running off to put some finishing touches onto his contraption. 
In his son’s absence, Bowser muffled a sneeze into his arm, his nose burning at the effort to keep it locked behind his teeth. Yikes, that was close. He wasn't sure how long he could keep this up. Pretending he was fine was exhausting, almost more so than being sick itself. But Bowser refused to let some minor illness get the better of him so easily. He stepped out from the hallway to rejoin his army. Yeah, he’d have those pesky germs knocked out flat in no time!
---
Bowser woke up slowly, blinking up at the rich purple canopy of his bed. Why was he in bed? He wracked his brain trying to remember. The cotton his head felt stuffed with made it impossible. The last thing he did was...was...what was it?
Bowser heard a shuffling noise next to him. It was Greenie, staring at him wide-eyed.
“...What’re you lookin’ at?” Bowser glared at him. 
In lieu of answering, Greenie burst into tears.
“Wh —?” Bowser tried to sit up; it was a bit difficult with his arms and half his torso in bandages and his entire body feeling shaky and weak, but he somehow managed. Whatever was sitting on his head fell off — an ice pack, whose absence was almost immediately felt based on the throbbing in his skull. “Shut up,” Bowser snapped at Greenie, trying to sound intimidating. The words came out as if he’d eaten gravel, and upon hearing them Greenie somehow began crying harder, so obviously that didn't work.
As if summoned, Mario skidded into the room, Kamek not far behind with a large mug of tea gripped in his claws. “Oh, you're awake,” Kamek said. He sounded cross, and Bowser couldn't help but feel nervous. “I was wondering why you insisted on keeping me out in the field,” he continued, and uh-oh. 
“You said I didn't have to be worried!” was the first thing Junior shouted as soon as he ran into the room next and aw jeez. What even happened?
Peach, a blanket over her shoulders and the last one to crowd his bedside, filled him in. Apparently his and the Marios’ final battle had started off as usual, but partway through the fight Mario had noticed Bowser acting off. The lack of banter and boasting, the faltering reflexes, the whiffed attacks...the amount of evidence pointing to something being wrong had grown ever larger. Until Greenie had thrown his hammer at Bowser’s head, a predictable, highly telegraphed maneuver that Bowser normally would have dodged with ease. Instead, it had hit Bowser full force, and he’d dropped like a stone and stopped moving. Greenie had been honestly scared he’d killed Bowser right then and there, hence the waterworks now.
“As if you could kill me.” Bowser scowled at Greenie. Greenie hiccuped, still teary.
Anyway, Mario had swiftly run off to find Kamek, and Peach had passed along the suspicions Junior had shared with her a while ago plus a few suspicions of her own — for example, Bowser had visited her a lot less than usual this time around. And then they all stayed to help take care of Bowser. “This is the first time you’d woken up this coherent, you know,” Peach told him, cocking a grin.
The first time? Bowser frowned. “Well, now I’m awake for real. So get out of here before you get sick with whatever this is, too.”
Peach shook her head. “That ship has already sailed —”
As if on cue, Mario sneezed. Bowser looked over to where he was patting Greenie on the shoulder. Mario met his gaze and shrugged. 
“It’s been a few days, and you were really bad off,” Peach explained. “So we’re going to keep helping you until you’re better, and then you’ll have to mind us, as we won't be fit to travel for a while.” She raised her chin. “Think of it as payback, for scaring us all half to death.”
Bowser grumbled, sinking further into the bed. He didn't want the Mario Bros hanging around his castle. Blegh.
Kamek knocked back the rest of his tea, slamming the mug down on the end table with a little more force than necessary. “If you're finished with your explanations,” Kamek said mildly, gesturing at Mario and Greenie and Peach even as he kept his eyes on Bowser. “I’d like to have a moment with Patient Zero here, if you wouldn't mind.”
Mario helped Greenie to his feet. Peach gave Junior her blanket before she followed them out of the room, and he clambered onto the bed next to Bowser, wrapping himself in it. As the door swung closed, Bowser realized he’d prefer the Mario Bros running around his home, actually, to the look on Kamek’s face as he opened his mouth to give Bowser the scolding of a lifetime.
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credince--writes · 1 year
Text
Secrets
Ao3
Tumblr media
She wasn't one to be very fond of secrets.
Even though her job was to keep many- a big part of it was finding other secrets.
Breaking encryption.
Processing data.
The likes.
The base wasn't that much different than any other base she had been in. Save for not speaking the language- which had happened a good two times before and she had managed.
But, she felt like there were a lot of secrets around her.
After she had finished vomiting, the heat on her cheeks and face flushed with strain and embarrassment.
What a great first impression.
Apparently whoever 'Alejandro' was, he was busy and wouldn't be joining them for a while. So they had opted to wait, Rodolfo- or Rudy, that's what Soap called him took them into a building on the asphalt.
Must've been similar to previous locations, not many people were around.
Possibly for higher ranks?
She wasn't really sure.
Not like she could read Spanish.
"How you doing?" Soap asked, dropping back to check up on her.
"I'm fine." She grumbled.
Sure, she still felt like shit.
Seemed to be a constant.
And it didn't seem like it would be changing anytime soon, so why complain about it?
Soap nodded, sensing her mood and her short responses projecting a blaring 'don't talk to me, I'll puke'.
They walked into what seemed to be a conference room, and tried their best to get settled. Jitters quickly made her way into a chair, staring up at the ceiling of the space they were confined too.
Ghost was stiff, more than normal.
And that was saying something because he was usually stiff.
She felt a little better, in all honesty. But it still felt like she'd been hit by a bus. She started tapping her finger on the table in front of her, looking around the room.
Her eyes landed on Rudy, who was nearly doing the same as her, glancing around the room and subtly fidgeting with his hands under the table. Their eyes met and she quickly glanced away, slightly embarrassed at getting caught.
To try and rebound, she glanced over to Soap. "So... Still don't know why we are here."
Soap tilted his head over to her. "Rudy and Alejandro are friends. We needed to go somewhere with people we could trust." He explained.
"Still, very vague." She replied. "I feel like I'm out of the loop here."
"You've been unconscious for nearly forty-eight hours, that's why." Ghost huffs out, looking over to Rudy. "What's his ETA?"
"Soon." Rudy nervously replies, giving the masked man an uneasy glance.
And soon he was right.
It was still a few more moments of awkward, suffocating silence until the door pushed open- rather loudly and a man walked in. It must've been Alejandro- that or she was even more out of the loop.
"Haha! Hermanos! What took you so long for a visit!" He calls into the room, a toothy grin plastered on his features.
Kind of reminded her of a car salesman.
A used car salesman.
Ghost stood, shaking the man's hand. Soap following to do the same.
"Always good to see you." Soap said.
"And who's this?" Alejandro asked, nodding over to Jitters.
Jitters looked up, almost as if she was a deer caught in the headlights for a moment.
Well, who was she?
What was she really to the group?
"Jitters." She says, a little quickly.
"She's been with us for a while- tech specialist." Soap adds. "Little under the weather right now."
"Got that right." Jitters grunted.
Alejandro stood, shooting her a strange glance before turning to Ghost.
"I wish it was under better terms mate, but we're needin' help." Ghost starts.
"Of course, the Los Vaqueros always support our brothers." He nods. "So what's the story?"
Ghost paused for a moment, glancing at Soap who stood.
"Hey Rudy, you guys have the infirmary in the same place?"
"Si- same location." He nods.
"I'm gonna go drag 'er over there. Maybe they'll stick an IV in her. Fasten the recovery."
Jitters eyes narrowed.
There were secrets in this room,
secrets that were being kept from her.
She could see it.
The hesitant but calculated follow-through of his words, standing, and moving over to her shooing her up and out of the door.
She sighed, standing and walking out of the room and giving Ghost a cautionary glance before the door closed behind them.
Should she say something?
Maybe she was just imagining it, overthinking it.
Maybe she wasn't supposed to be here as a PMC.
Maybe.
Maybe?
Maybe.
"The adults have to talk alone?" She says, a little sourly over to Soap as she follows him.
"It's not like that." He frowns.
"Sure seems like it." She replies.
He sighs, staying quiet for a while.
She tailed him, following him outside once more and across the pavement into another building. Immediately the scent of sanitizer- alcohol- whatever that telltale stench of cleanliness that hung in every infirmary ever wafted into her nose.
"They aren't sticking me." She mumbles.
"Hell they aren't." He replies.
"I'll fuckin' run."
"You'll get ten feet and puke everywhere."
"I'll puke on you."
"You wouldn't dare."
"Guess you'll have to find out then." She bites, crossing her arms and looking around.
A nurse pops her head out from behind a door, calling out to them in Spanish.
"Uh..." Soap paused for a moment. "¿Podemos tener algo.... er. de ayuda?"
Jitters mouth dropped, looking at him.
He glances over at her, giving her a confused expression. "You're gonna catch a fly."
"You speak Spanish?"
"What?"
"You just spoke Spanish."
"Yea?"
"How?"
"Using my mouth?"
The woman approached, and he pointed to Jitters. "ella fue drogada, puede..... Uh... puede tener una vía intravenosa?"
She stood, flabbergasted.
"Wait- what did you ask?
"To get something to stick ya with."
"How the fuck do you know Spanish?"
"We've been on over six missions together in countries that speak Spanish, have you picked up none?" He asked, giving her an amused glance.
"I-"
The nurse grabbed Jitters by the arm, leading her into the back and motioning for her to sit down in a chair. Quickly disappearing around the corner, the clicks of her heels filled the void of sound.
"What are they talking about?" She asked.
"Who?"
"You know who I'm talking about."
"Nope."
"Now you're just being an ass."
Soap sighs. "Probably about what happened- and since you don't exactly remember what happened, there really isn't any use for you to be there."
"So they're making decisions, about me, without me there."
"Kind of."
Her chest tightened.
A familiar feeling of dread spreading its palms across her sternum.
"Does Laswell know?"
"No, why?" Soap shot her a questionable glance.
Well, at least that's some good news.
That was a whole other dreadful topic she didn't want to dip her toes into.
What if she found out, and that was the final straw.
What even happened?
Was it her fault?
Well, she got drugged-
but she was drunk.
Why wasn't she asleep?
"Why..." She paused for a moment, watching the nurse return to the room with a IV kit. "You've got to be fucking kidding me-"
She made a move to stand, but Soap reached his hand out, grabbing her shoulder and pushing her back down into her seat.
The nurse made a move, grabbing her arm and putting it up onto the armrest of the chair. Ripping open a single alcohol pad and rubbing it against her arm.
"Fuck..." She trailed off looking as she prepped the needle.
"Don't look at it."
She was getting stitches but into her high by a medic inside the compound. Ghost looming behind her and running an arm around her back and under her armpits when she began to stumble, carrying her into the medical bay.
They'd torn open her pantleg, taking a look at the bloody gash on her thigh. He sat with her, silently while they coated her leg in alcohol, wiping off the grime, and started the process of stitching her up.
She whined, after glancing down and seeing the needle price her skin.
"Don't look at it." He comments.
Her eyes snapped over to his, good arm reaching out and grabbing his wrist. "It fuckin' hurts." She whines.
"Blood is supposed to stay on the inside." He comments.
"Was that a shitty joke?" She asked.
"No. It was a fact."
She blinked once, twice, and a third time before turning her head and looking at Soap.
Try as she may, trying to think of what happened that night- she couldn't.
No matter how hard she tried,
she simply could not remember.
And it was infuriating to her.
What had happened?
Was she alone?
Why would she be alone?
Who found her then?
Did something happen?
If this was a computer, she'd extract the deleted information- rebuild it.
Fix the problem.
She felt powerless.
She kept finding herself in that position.
Powerless.
She could feel the needle piercing her arm, the needle forcing its way into her vein.
"Johnny." She whispered.
"Yea?"
"Why was I alone that night?"
He wasn't looking at her, his gaze fixed onto the wall.
He refused to look.
Not that she'd see it as that.
It was eating him from the inside out.
He could see the conflict and confusion in her eyes.
Did she blame herself?
Should he let her?
"That's.... That's part of the puzzle." He said softly.
He prayed she would take that and not need anymore.
There were secrets.
They hovered around.
Circled in the air like taunting demons.
And she could see them.
Feel them.
She would just have to wait and see if they were hers, or the others in the room.
...
Not that she'd admit it, but that IV did the trick.
Didn't help the shitty mood she was in, though.
There were secrets everywhere.
And she was out of the loop.
And she was getting antsy.
It didn't help that not only Ghost, but Soap were avoiding her.
Maybe she was simply overthinking it.
The distinct lack of their presence almost made it seem intentional.
So she wandered, she was good at that.
It was better than sitting, staring at a wall, trying and failing to remember what happened.
She really didn't mean to snoop.
She could honestly say that it was accidental.
But she couldn't help but push up against the wall as she heard the distinct sound of Ghost's voice in a room.
"Yes Sir, I understand." He said.
She peeked in through the doorway, to find him not facing her. His back to the doorway with his phone up to his ear, one hand resting on his hip.
"No, we will be on schedule to leave with the new plans."
She ducked out from the doorway. She wasn't going to be caught snooping, at least not now.
New plans?
They were leaving already?
Price wasn't even here.
What the fuck was happening.
And why are there so many secrets?
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The Maystone mangler pt1
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Don't forget to check out @the-illiterate-pirate 's version of the same scenario 'Twisted Nerve'
Also there is a prolouge to this fic, not necessary but will give you a little more context.
It had been a month since you had moved to Maystone. You'd managed to settle in and get to know the town folk. It was a small yet communal one, everyone seemed to know each other. Sometimes you'd even see the mayor, Mr Valentine, or his wife in the grocery store.
From what you had learned Valentine had been a hero for the town, six years ago it was on the verge of being a ghost town but when Valentine returned after his time in the Vietnam War he'd established numerous projects to help the local economy. Sure the town was still quite small but now everyone had had access to many of the facilities and necessities to live comfortably. Even now he was striving for more as he made his way up to state politics.
As you drove to work you switched station news before settling on the local news.
'The weather will be a lovely 68°f today with some clouds coming through, best to get your washing out today as the next few days will have moderate rain' Amelia the weather reporter said.
'Back to you Marshall' she sighed off back to the main presenter.
'Thank you, Amelia. We just got news about the body found in the park this morning' He said catching your interest.
"We've been told by police that the victim, James Ronal, age 34, was found dead this morning at 6:47 this morning. The state of his body was described as barely recognizable. Later we have an interview slated with Sheriff Mountain Tim' they explained. You were horrified as thoughts of what might have happened flooded your mind. What could have led to such a horrible thing to happen.
You drove into to staff parking and parked your car. You turned off your car and grabbed your briefcase before entering.
You exchanged some brief hellos with your coworkers as you made your way to your desk. As you unpacked your stuff you overheard a conversation two of your co-workers, Jill and Mary were having.
"You heard the news about James?"
"Yes I did, it's horrible from what I heard his chest had been cut open and his head was nearly chopped right off"
"Oh goodness, it sounds like the Maystone mangler is back"
Maystone mangler, clearly this wasn't known. They had a name and everything. You wanted to join the conversation and learn more but you looked at the time, it was almost 9 o clock.
You set up the last of your things before the doors opened. It didn't take long before clients came in. You spotted Blackmore in the line and waved him over. You had gotten fairly familiar with him, visiting his shop at least once a week.
"Good morning Blackmore" you greeted him. He perked up and clumsily walked over with a bag in hand. He was wearing a brownish-grey turtle neck sweater and a pair of nice black pants. He was dressed quite nicely, a far cry from what he wore in the butcher shop.
"Ah… good morning" he stuttered before he sat down in front of you.
"I just came to put some money in, usually my mother covers it but she's been under the weather so I have to do it" he explained.
"I don't know if I can do that, I can't make transactions in another name" you explained.
"We have a shared account" he replied, you could tell he was obviously nervous about being at the bank.
"Oh sorry, in that case, it should be fine, I just need some ID" you explained. He grabbed out a wallet from the bag and grabbed out his ID and placed it on the desk.
Blackmore Lovall
Date of birth 11/19/1956
"Oh I didn't realize your mother was Mauve, you two look so alike," you said as looked at his ID before standing up.
"I'll go grab the file and then we can start the deposit" you explained as you made your way to the file room but stopped to ask him questions.
"Do you want a coffee?"
"Um… do you have tea, I'm not a fan of coffee" he replied.
"Sure, do you have it with milk, and how much sugar?" You said.
"Milk and one sugar please" he replied before you left.
Luckily the kettle had already been boiled so you grabbed a cup and a tea bag and grabbed the sugar tin. You poured his up and left it to seep before turning your attention to the file cabinet. You went to the draw labeled 'L' and looked through to find the Lovall file and put it on top of the cabinet before you finished making his tea.
You came back shortly later and gave him his tea and placed the file on the desk.
"Thank you so much" he coyly thanked before taking a sip. You sat down and opened the file. Blackmore grabbed out several small clear bags with notes, coins, and checks and placed them on the desk.
"Could I ask you a question… about what happened this morning?" you said.
"About James?" He asked.
"Yes, I overheard some of my coworkers talking about what happened, and they mentioned it sounding like the Maystone mangler. Can you tell me anything about that?" You asked and he nodded in response before taking another sip.
"The Maystone mangler is the name given to a local serial in this town. The murders started around five years ago and the police still haven't found the killer" he explained.
"How do they know it's the same person?" You asked.
"Well it's in the name, they're known for mangling and dismembering their victims…The murders aren't frequent so most of us aren't too worried, I'd just suggest not being out late by yourself and locking the doors at night" he continued.
You felt a shiver go down your spine, even just hearing the news mention a brutal crime in another state made you anxious but to know a murderer was in the town was very concerning.
You quickly snapped yourself out of your thoughts and began to open the bags and grab each bundle of notes. They were already organized so you took the rubber band off and put them into the note counter and turned it on.
"So how was your weekend?" Blackmore asked, trying to make small talk.
"It wasn't much, I just cleaned around the house a bit. Pruned the roses and realized I didn’t have a vase anymore to put them in, so I'm going to the antique store after work" you told him. Grabbing the notes out and jotting down the amount on a blank piece of paper before grabbing the next bundle to do the same.
"I'm sure you'll find a nice vase but Magenta can be a bit… greedy, but as long as you know how to bargain right he'll cave into a lower price" Blackmore warned. You nodded in response as you continued to count the notes. You two continued to make small talk before Blackmore asked another question.
"Did you hear about the communal barbecue that Mr Steel's running this year?" He asked.
"No I haven't" you replied.
"Oh well it's been talked about for some time, usually after church" he explained.
"I'm sure Mr Steel will tell you himself but everyone in town is invited, just have to bring something to share" he continued.
"What would I bring?" You asked.
"Well almost everyone brings sides… my mom and I supply all the meat and Mr and Mrs Valentine bring the drinks… perhaps a dessert, my mom always brings trifle, and a few cupcakes are brought in but never anything else" he suggested.
"Do you think a cheesecake would be good?" You questioned. His eyes lit up hearing your suggestion.
"Yes, cheesecake would be great, it's one of my favorite desserts" he replied as a small smile appeared on his face.
🍂🍂🍂
You finished work at five o'clock and got into your car and drove down to the antique store. You parked your car in the parking bay on the side of the road and made your way inside. You opened the door and a bell rang.
"The store's only open for twenty-five minutes" a nasally voice echoed in the shop.
"I'm just here to find a vase," you said as you began to look around. The place was cluttered with little room to move through between the furniture and smelt of dust and old fragrance.
"At the back, on the shelves," the voice told you.
"Thank you" you awkwardly thanked as you shuffled around, trying not to knock anything over as you made your way to the back. There you saw pitchers and vases along with piles of crockery.
"How long since you moved in?" He asked.
"A month now," you told him as you admired a few green bottles.
"That's a valuable piece of Vaseline glass from the 1920s, they don't make much uranium glassware nowadays," he told you. You jumped a little and quickly put it back down before looking to the side to see who you assumed was Magenta. He was a mess from head to toe. Wild hair and unkempt clothes.
"There's no need to worry about radiation poisoning, I doubt it has any more radiation than anything else here" he explained yet he still did not make you feel safe near it. Then your eyes landed on a ceramic pitcher with a simple floral design.
"I'll take this," you told him.
"Nice choice, I believe that one was handmade," he told you.
"That'll be $12," he told you and your eyes widened. Yep, Blackmore was right, he was trying to scam you.
"Actually I think I'll pass, it seems a bit pricey" you replied.
"I can assure you the price is fair," he said.
"Hmmm… I'm not sure, I have an aunt who makes pottery far cheaper" you bluffed.
"How about $10?" He asked
"Still too pricey for me, I'll buy it for $8 and not a cent more," you told him.
"Fine" he sighed in defeat before taking the pitcher out of your hand and taking it to the counter. You followed close behind as you grabbed a few notes. You handed the money and he took it greedily before grabbing some newspaper and wrapping the pitcher in it. On the paper you could clearly see the title 'Maystone Mangler strikes again: two found dead'
"So what's up with this Maystone Mangler?" You asked him.
"You really want to know?" He asked with a raised eyebrow.
"Yes, I think it's important to know what's happening here. After all, I live here now” you replied.
“Roughly 5 years ago A man in town named Sam was murdered, it wasn't a simple murder by any means… he was chopped into pieces and dumped into the nearby river. That's the first murder by whom the news has dubbed the Maystone mangler” he told you.
“The weapon was never found but the autopsies suggest that the weapon was a meat cleaver, of course, the first suspects were the Lovall's however they were quickly dismissed. Mauve is far too frail to do something like that and not break a bone. Frederik was a nice guy, he was in my high school English class… He had been missing for a few months before the murder. Some think he took the family car and left to pursue something more while others think foul play was involved” he continued explaining.
“Then there's Blackmore… poor kid got put through the wringer in school from what I heard but he wouldn't even hurt a fly. Even the thought of butchering made him pale in the face when he had to pick it up. The first few weeks he looked like he'd faint at any moment. He's not got a single bit of violence in him” he told you before handing you the pitcher.
“Thank you Magenta” you thanked him before making your leave
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overobsessivewhumper · 6 months
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Whumpcember 2023: Day 3: Hypothermia
@whumpcember
Content warning: Emetophobia (mentioned)
Read on Ao3
After almost 200 years in darkness, Astarion isn't used to the sun. On a particularly hot day, he gets to see just how bad the sun can make him feel even when it isn't burning him.
Astarion loves the sun. How could he not, after almost two centuries of cold and dark. His elven need for less rest meant he had been up for every sunrise since his abduction, soaking up every bit of sunlight he could. The thought of growing sick of the warm lights touch on his skin had seemed impossible to Astarion.
He feels sick of it now.
It had been hot all day, but when the sun reached its highest point, the temperature rose even further.
Astarion squints at the sky, where the sun still hangs almost dead centre. The pulsing pain in his skull is only getting worse, and even what little armour he's wearing feels too heavy. Astarion didn't know it was even possible for him to sweat this much. But he feels the way his clothes stick to his skin.
The sun must surely be mocking Astarion by showing him all the other ways it can hurt him.
The others are walking ahead of Astarion. He'd stopped listening to their talking a while ago, but it seems like Gale is talking with Karlach about something. Something Astarion is sure he wouldn't have cared to listen to even if his head didn't feel like it was about to slit open. Wyll ads comments to their conversation now and again, but he's mainly focused on keeping a keen eye on the path they are walking.
That's all they've been doing really. Just walking.
Hiking wasn't Astarions preferred pastime, but he usually doesn't struggle with the activity this bad. He feels shaky, every step he takes uncertain.
His companions are dealing much better with the heat. Sure, Astarion is certain he heard Gale complaining a while back, but they're managing fine. Astrion can't afford to let on how bad the weather is making him feel. Not after everyone just recently learned of him being a vampire.
Being a liability in addition to a potential threat? There's no way that would go down well. He's just going to have to power through.
As that taught crosses his mind, Astarion is hit with a sudden wave of nausea, and his vision blurs.
He's forced to lean onto a nearby rock for support, fearing his legs might give out if he doesn't.
But only for a moment, he tells himself. He only needs to rest for a moment, and then he'll catch up with the others. When Astarion next opens his eyes, he is sitting on the floor, not sure he can remember doing so.
He immediately closes his eyes again. Next to being too hot, the sun is also too bright. Oh how Astarion longs for somewhere cool and dark to curl up in. But he has to get up. He tries to force his shaking arms to do just that by pushing himself up and off the dusty floor, but he falls back down again immediately.
Astarion groans, but doesn't go to try again. Not right away anyway.
“Astarion?”, comes Wyll's voice, sounding concerned, whether for Astarions safety, or because he doesn't trust the vampire to leave his sight is unclear.
When Astarion opens his eyes, his companions are already next to him. Wyll and Gale are crouched next to him, Karlach a little further away. Karlach has got that look on her face she often does, a look of conflict as she tries to work out how to help without actively setting something ablaze with her burning skin.
Astarion sighs. So much for not appearing as a liability.
“You're burning up.”, Wyll says, hand hovering just short of touching Astarions skin.
“You don't think he's...” Gale continues before Astarion can even address Wyll, a look crossing his face that betrays what the rest of his statement is. Astarion bats Wylls hand away and tries to stand up again. His arms cramp and a fresh stab of pain shoots through his skull.
“I'm not turning into a Mindflayer, Gale.” Astarion slurs, the unsteady quality of his voice surprising him. “Just let me get up.”
“I have to agree with Astarion.” Wyll says. “Not the bit about getting up, please stay down.”
Astarion sighs in annoyance, but complies. He feels like he might actually be sick if he did manage to get up. He wasn't going to let the other see him sink to that kind of low.
“I have seen this before.” Wyll continues “People that were out in the sun too long experiencing sudden bouts of weakness.” Astarion wants to protest, disagree with Wyll calling him weak. Ironically, he couldn't muster the strength to do so. “We need to cool you down.”
Astarion zones out once more as Wyll and Gale discuss moving him to the shade, as Karlach stands there looking uncomfortable in her inability to aid in the task. Astarion is distantly aware of Wyll and Gale's hands on him, moving him, but the headache spiking with every shaky movement claims the majority of his attention.
Wyll snapping his fingers in front of Astarions face brings his focus back to the present.
“Hey, don't pass out on us.” Wyll says, sounding concerned again. Astarion wants to tell him to piss off, maybe insult him too, but all he ends up doing is glaring at him. Wyll looks fuzzy and washed out, but at least Astarion can see him. Karlach and Gale are barely more than smeared specks of colour at the corner of Astarions field of view.
Wyll started to insist Astarion lose some of the layers he was wearing, and again, Astarion wants to spit out some kind of comeback, embarrass the man with a flirtatious remark.
“Fine.” is what Astarion manages to force out. So soon he's laying there in his shirt and trousers, armour discarded to the side far less neatly than he'd usually like.
“Do vampires drink water?” Gale interjects after a while of heavy silence. Astarion doesn't remember ever having a problem with it, and can't bring himself to care to think about it further. At this point, he'd try almost anything to cool down. He holds his hand out in a silent demand for someone to hand him some. He pretends not to notice how much his arm is shaking, and tries to not let on how much energy the motion is costing him.
A bottle is handed to him, Astarion not having the will to pay attention to whom it came from. Couldn't have been Karlach. Everything she handles feels at least warm to the touch.
The water isn't cold, but it might as well be when it hits the back of Astarions throat. A lot of it gets spilled down his neck and chest, he feels the cold rivulets running along his abnormally hot skin.
They stayed like that for a long time, just resting in the shade. Karlach asked if they were sure there was no way she could help, and whilst Astarion couldn't see her, he knew she must be pulling an expression more and more like a kicked dog. By the time she asks for the sixth or seventh time, he was sure telling her apart from Scratch would be near impossible.
By the time Astarion feels marginally better, at least not like he's going to be sick if he moves too hastily, he expects the other three to show at least some annoyance with him for waiting the better part of the afternoon, if not downright animosity.
But none of them mentions anything of the sort. If anything, they act like it was their fault. By the time they get back to camp, sun almost gone from the sky, they even insist Shadowheart take a look at him.
When Astarion settles to trance he feels weird. The headache is still there, but manageable now. No, it's nothing physical that makes him feel off. It's the way the others reacted to his weakness. He can't place how he feels about it.
So he begins his trance, odd sensation in his chest, hoping they weren't going to spring some sudden recompense for their compassion on him. All he could do was continue to prove his usefulness and try to steer clear of any more embarrassing displays of ineptitude.
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yehsahihai · 2 years
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Putting this out here because @dumdaradumdaradum and @thewinchestergirl1208 said so. This is my first fic ever, tell me how it is
Ram was scared. 4 years of living a double life, 15 years of working towards a promise that could cost him his life, and as he stood looking the blood slowly seeping from his wife's arm, he couldn't remember feeling more scared.
He didn't even remember how it happened exactly. Ok, that was a lie. He remembered every detail leading up to this with crystal clarity.
"Ram, let's go out naa!" "Y/n are you mad? Look outside. There's a storm just waiting to happen. Do you want to stay in bed for the rest of the week or what?" "Arre kuch nahi hoga, trust me."
Ram had to raise an eyebrow at that. As much as he adored (loved??) his wife, he would rather trust a five year old with a bat than go along with her ideas. She wasn't stupid, gods no. He had yet to meet a person who could best him or even match him in a battle of wits.
No, it was just that she would often do things without any foresight. Borderline reckless almost. Like the time she was convinced that it was a good idea to eat 7 kulfis during the cold. Or the time she jumped from the highest point of a swing because "it's funn!!!!" Or even, the most recent, the time she thought it'd be fine to do a cartwheel, despite never having done one before. On stone flooring. Surrounded by furniture. Alone. That catastrophe had barely been avoided.
In short, ram had concluded that while he was immensely grateful for his wife and thoroughly enjoyed her presence in his life, she was someone he constantly had to worry for. But, he would often muse, it was a worry he welcomed with open arms.
Still, the monsoon had been relentless this time. The streets were slick with mud, the walls damp, the temperature cold enough that double blankets had to be drawn at night. In short, the kind of weather in which going out almost certainly meant getting hurt or sick. Or both. Considering y/n, Ram knew the chances of both were very, very, extremely high.
"Ram chalo na. You've gotten a leave from work after so long, let's have fun na." "We can have fun inside the house too" "what!!??" Ram's eyes widened as he realized the implications of what he said. Scrambling, he said " I just meant that there's no need to go out in this kind of weather to do something. We'll be just fine inside the house". She pouted. He looked away damn it he would not cave. But like the idiot he was, he risked just one glance. She was looking at him, brown eyes huge, pleading, lips jutting out, he caved. Later he would regret it, but as he gazed upon her, smiling wide enough to crinkle her eyes and jumping he couldn't bring himself to feel anything but utter adoration.
All of that had been swept away now. He could feel the waves of panic, threatening to crash over him. Dimly he heard her calling out to him but it was all gibberish. She had been fine. She was dancing around, as the skies had opened up. Neither of them had noticed the stone or the mud until she tripped over it, scraping the entirety of her right forearm, the blood a bright ruby red.
Breathing deeply, ram managed to say "ok we are going to go hoke and clean it up and then-" "Ram it's ok, I'm fine, really" "y/n we are going home and I'm carrying youu and that's that" "Ram I really don't think-" her husband's gaze, usually so soft when looking at her, now looked like sparking embers. But behind the satin wrapped steel was genuine fear. So she let up.
Ram, she realized quickly, could not calm down. In any other circumstance she loved hearing his voice but right now she wanted nothing more then for him to shut up.
"Ok, so there's no swelling and you don't seem concussed"
"Ram"
Undeterred he continued "But hey what do I know? I'm not the one who thought doing a cartwheel for the first time while alone was a good idea.
"It was ONE TIME"
"I wouldn't even know if you were concussed"
"Ram"
I'm calling the doctor though. You definitely don't seem ok and OH MY GOD WHY ARE YOU GETTING UP, LIE THE HELL BACK DOWN"
y/n who had till then been quietly getting up to drink water immediately laid down not before saying "I'M FINE!!!" "NOT UNTIL THE DOCTOR SAYS SO!!!" "CAN YOU JUST TRUST ME WHEN I SAY I'M OK????" "NO I BLOODY CANNOT" "I'M NOT A KID!!" "YEAH WELL, ACT LIKE A KID GET TREATED LIKE A KID"
"What's that supposed to mean??" "You damn well know what it means"
Y/n was fuming. Her darling pati parmeshwar was freaking out over a small cut, had carried her home even though she was perfectly fine and now he was accusing her of being a child??
"RAM I SWEAR UPON ALL THAT IS GOOD AND HOLY IF YOU DO NOT STOP FUSSING OVER ME RIGHT THIS MOMENT.." "You'll do what? Huh?" "Excuse me?"
"You heard me. Tum kya karlogi? 5'4 ki to ho, wazan bhi 60 se kam hi hoga." "Achha??" "haan. What will you do???" With each word ram and her had moved closer. His biggest mistake.
She was lightning fast. One moment he was looking at her, ramrod straight. Next he was doubled over, tears pricking at his eyes as he tried to bat his wife's hands away from where they were currently dancing all over his sromach. "Y/n please nahi, please chodo na" " first say i'm not a kid" gasping even as his eyes leaked he said "Never." She let up, looking down at him. When had he collapsed to the floor? More importantly was she on top of him?? He didn't get the chance to think much because the next thing he knew she said "Never huh?" This time the attack was relentless. Ram felt his insides twist in ways they were supposed to. He didn't remember the last time he'd laughed so much. "Ok ok fine." She stilled. "You're not a kid ok. Youre a very sensible, responsible, mature adult. "Good."
Ram usually could not have borne the weight of a person on him. It brought back too many memories. Memories soaked with blood and violence. Memories filled with anger and despair. As he laid down though, looking at this vision above him he didn't feel any of that. No memories welling up to pierce him, no panic, no rage. Just pure happiness contentment. They stayed like that, for he didn't know how long and he didn't care. Time had ceased for them, ram especially as he felt her hand delicately brush the hair from his face.
Her hand, the blood, it all rushed back to him. He jumped up forgetting that she was literally right on top of him, causing her to be dumped rather unceremoniously on the floor.
"Shittt, I need to call the doctor" "RAM!!!"
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