Ratio/Aventurine can go two ways:
1. Ratio viewing Aventurine as…not a science experiment, but something interesting pull apart and study, enabling his worst behaviors just to see the consequences, whatever they may be
2. Ratio refusing to let Aventurine burn himself out, treating him with care because no one else will (including himself and excluded Topaz)
In either case, Ratio’s attention is firmly fixed on Aventurine because he’s smart and can actually hold an intelligent conversation with Ratio. He may not be able to explain in minute detail how something works like Ratio can, but he knows how to get the results he wants and practical knowledge is still knowledge. A gambling fool Aventurine might be, but never an idiot or stupid
Also, Ratio realizing he likes Aventurine and being Mad about it is so funny. Aventurine may realize he cares about Ratio, but it would be hard for him to accept and admit his own feelings because he feels guilty for any comfort he finds and doesn’t think he deserves it unless there’s an edge to it
I like to think they had a…relationship of sorts going into Penacony, because it makes things a whole lot more painful. It balances out afterwards though, because we don’t know if he’s entirely free of the IPC, but the less Aventurine is attached to the IPC, the less he has to keep up his facade and the more Ratio gets to see the man underneath, whether he goes by Aventurine, Kakavasha or a different name entirely
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I've seen a few fics and posts about Charles learning about Edwardian courting customs and courting Edwin. I've read one or two fics about Edwin learning Urdu or Hindi. What about Edwin learning about Indian culture as something that's connected to Charles' mother's side of the family that, presumably, his father tried to supress, and his peers killed him for, but is something Charles can freely connect with and reclaim without that threat?
This is all to say I want to see Edwin explaining his suitability as a husband friend to a bunch of Charles' old relatives that can see ghosts and them being confused because it seems like the dead boys already got gay ghost married 30+ years ago and Charles saying that he can't say for certain that he's in love with Edwin and all his relatives rolling their eyes and asking what that has to do with marriage and obviously some form of love has grown and they're doing fine, no grandchildren or reincarnation, but they're accepting the gay thing, so they can accept those oddities too.
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hey p this is nobody you know but do you have thoughts about depot mouse seeing something they shouldn't have seen? 😇
hello friend! (who i definitely don't know, no siree) i waffled over this and my search results are now full of dubiously legal activities that i definitely haven't ever seen in practice, not even once mr/ms/mx GCHQ person checking online traffic. (i also got distracted by portakabin set ups, but that's a separate issue.) and then my brain spat this out for the tradieverse.
does it answer the prompt? eh, vaguely. but i hope you'll be pleased with it.
tags/tw: non-sexual semi-nudity, russian pet names (pchelka = little bee, myshka = mouse, milaya = darling/sweetie/dearest), light angst at the end, and a very brief mention of choking.
author's note: barely skimmed for typos and bad grammar as always and a patented (by @/391780) abrupt ending because i couldn't figure out how to end it and it was getting away from me.
at this point, you're certain nikolai thinks it's funny to have you running around after him. flitting from your office to the driver's "lounge" (another portakabin, this time outfitted with a row of lockers, a sagging sofa, a table and set of scattered chairs, and a small kitchenette area), you yank open the door and your waspish comments die on your tongue.
nikolai is leaning against the counter of the kitchenette. in his pants. in just his pants.
unbidden your eyes skate over his broad shoulders, down over a glimmering gold chain that is nestled in thick, dark hair that spreads wildly over his chest to a soft stomach, to land on the tightest pair of black briefs you've ever seen.
"hello, myshka." nik's voice snaps you out of your staring and you feel heat flooding your cheeks as you tear your gaze away from his... underwear to meet his amused brown eyes.
"i, um, i was looking for you." you absolutely do not let your eyes drop below his neck as nik redistributes his weight as he laughs.
"and now you have found me." nik grins, a flash of surprisingly white teeth considering the amount of black tea and cigarettes he imbibes.
"yes, i wanted to - sorry, but why exactly are you in your pants?" you blurt out.
nik shrugs his broad shoulders and you drag your gaze up to look just past his left ear where a damp lock of black hair curls lazily.
"my clothes are wet." he says simply, like that explains everything. it probably does, knowing the very little you do know about nik.
there's a beat of silence where nik continues to grin and you ignore the way your neck and face are blazing with heat.
"right." you clear your throat uncomfortably. "anyway, i need your receipts."
"it's no problem, i've already handed them to farah." nik waves your words off with a lazy flap of his hand.
"yes, it is a problem! you can't just hand your receipts off to the head of the company, nikolai!" you huff irritably and nikolai interrupts you with a loud boisterous laugh.
"ah, pchelka." he sighs fondly, "always so busy running around, you miss what's right in front of your nose."
that brings you up short and you scowl furiously at him. of course he would think that, all he has to worry about to getting from the depot to the job site and back again. he isn't having to chase wayward drivers around for scraps of paper, or answering the phone to a disgruntled jonathan price when he can't get hold of nikolai, or answering emails with the subject line "how much 4 hardcore??" that you hope to god have come from a bot and not some sad, lonely weirdo thinking that a haulage company offers pornography.
the grin on nik's face flickers slightly and you see his eyes are no longer amused, but soft, almost apologetic.
"sweetness, i'm sorry. i didn't mean to imply-"
"it's fine." you interrupt him, your tone has gone flat and professional despite the way frustration burns at your lungs, urging you to unload all of your irritation on the man. "i'll just go ask farah for the receipts."
nik takes a step towards you.
"milaya -"
"no, really nik." you turn away to push at the door, "thank you for your help as always." you shove open the door and stomp across the dirt to the office you share with farah, leaving nik behind you in his underpants.
(later in the afternoon, after you had emailed farah to send you copies of nikolai's receipts, you lean back in your chair and refuse to let your mind drift back to the glittering gold chain resting on nik's collarbone.
and if you do, it's only because you're thinking about wrapping it around your fist to strangle the insufferable man with it, honest. )
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