#emre can imagine

[shitsndgiggs]

Hey can you write were the reader and Kenan are co parenting their son and while their son is at Kenan places for the week he says something about the reader seeing someone and kenan gets jealous about he still has feelings for the reader

SHADOWS OF THE PAST - KENAN YILDIZ

When a comment from your son made Kenan jealous

Kenan Yildiz x co-parent! reader

︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿

I pulled up to Kenan's place, feeling a mix of anticipation and nervousness. It was always a bit awkward seeing my ex, especially when we were exchanging our son, Emre, for the week.

Co-parenting had its challenges, but we made it work for Emre’s sake. As I parked the car and walked to the front door, I took a deep breath and knocked.

Kenan opened the door almost immediately, a warm smile on his face. “Hey, Y/N,” he greeted, stepping aside to let me in. “Emre is just finishing up his breakfast.”

“Thanks, Kenan,” I replied, stepping into the familiar living room. Despite everything, Kenan’s home always felt oddly comforting. “How was he this week?”

Kenan's face lit up with pride. “He was great. We had a lot of fun. He’s been talking about this new soccer trick he learned. Says he wants to show you.”

I smiled, imagining Emre’s excited face. “I can’t wait to see it.”

As if on cue, Emre came running into the room, his face beaming. “Mom! Look what I learned!” He proceeded to demonstrate his new trick, and I clapped enthusiastically, giving him a big hug.

“That’s amazing, sweetheart! You’re going to be a soccer star just like your dad,” I praised, ruffling his hair.

Kenan watched us with a soft smile, but there was a hint of something else in his eyes. Jealousy? No, that couldn’t be right. Why would he be jealous?

Emre suddenly looked up at me with his big, innocent eyes. “Mom, are you still seeing that guy you told me about? The one who gave you the flowers?”

I froze, my eyes darting to Kenan, who had tensed visibly. “Uh, Emre, we’ll talk about that later, okay?” I said quickly, trying to deflect.

Kenan’s gaze sharpened, and I could feel the intensity of his stare. “What guy?” he asked, his voice a little too casual.

“It’s nothing,” I said, waving my hand dismissively. “Just someone I met. It’s not serious.”

Emre looked between us, sensing the tension. “Okay, Mom. I’m gonna go pack my toys.” He scampered off, leaving Kenan and me alone in the room.

Kenan crossed his arms over his chest, his expression darkening. “You’re seeing someone?“

I sighed, feeling the conversation spiraling out of control. “Kenan, it’s not what you think. It’s just a few dates. Nothing serious.”

“Nothing serious,” he repeated, his jaw clenching. “Does he know about Emre?”

“No,” I admitted. “We haven’t gotten to that point. I don’t even know if I want to.”

Kenan took a step closer, his eyes flashing with anger. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because it’s none of your business!” I shot back, my own temper flaring. “We’re not together anymore, Kenan. You don’t get to control who I see.”

“I’m not trying to control you,” he snapped. “But I care about you, and I care about who’s around our son.”

I could see the hurt in his eyes, hidden behind the anger. “Kenan, I appreciate that, but you have to trust me to make the right decisions.”

He looked away, running a hand through his hair. “It’s just… hard, you know? Seeing you move on.”

I softened at his admission. “Kenan, I’m not trying to hurt you. But we both have to move on at some point.”

He looked back at me, his eyes filled with a mixture of frustration and longing. “Do you still have feelings for me?”

The question caught me off guard, and I didn’t know how to answer. Did I? “Kenan, I…”

Before I could finish, he closed the distance between us, his hands gently cupping my face. “I never stopped loving you, Y/N,” he whispered, his breath warm against my skin. “Seeing you with someone else… it’s killing me.”

I felt my heart race as his words sank in. “Kenan…”

He didn’t let me finish, his lips capturing mine in a desperate, passionate kiss. For a moment, I was lost in the familiar sensation, my body responding instinctively.

But then reality crashed down, and I pulled away, breathless.

“We can’t do this,” I said, my voice trembling. “We can’t confuse Emre. We can’t confuse ourselves.”

Kenan’s hands dropped to his sides, and he took a step back, pain etched across his face. “You’re right. I’m sorry.”

I took a shaky breath, trying to steady my emotions. “We need to focus on Emre. That’s what’s important.”

He nodded, looking defeated. “Yeah. You’re right.”

Just then, Emre bounded back into the room, his bag slung over his shoulder. “I’m ready, Mom!”

I forced a smile, reaching out to take his hand. “Great, let’s go.”

Kenan walked us to the door, his expression unreadable. “Bye, buddy,” he said, ruffling Emre’s hair. “I’ll see you next week.”

“Bye, Dad!” Emre chirped, giving him a hug.

As we walked to the car, I couldn’t shake the feeling of Kenan’s eyes on me. I glanced back to see him standing in the doorway, watching us with a mix of longing and regret.

My heart ached, but I knew we had to take things one step at a time. For Emre’s sake, and for our own.

[kvaradonaa]

Hottest players of Euro 2024: Group A and B

1. Germany: Emre Can

Okay, bro looks like my next mistake. If he wasn't a footballer, he'd be a pop musician. And I don't mean your shitty American pop. He would be like Tarkan for the Germans.

2. Switzerland: Granit Xhaka

Okay, this one is obvious. I had to choose his earrings era photo, they really complimented his unemployed Balkan boy swag. He is my ex-boyfriend who stole my wifebeater and my golden chain from me. He listens to the most cringe rap imaginable. He drives a BMW. He will ruin your life.

3. Hungary: Dominik Szoboszlai

Another obvious choice. Look at his pouty lips, massive brown eyes and hairy legs. He is sexy and he knows it. He will thirst trap the camera whenever it focuses on him. He is a whore. He is a gay pornstar. It's a wonder he isn't banned by the Hungarian constitution.

4. Scotland: Kieran Tierney

I didn't really know who to choose. In all honesty, I know very little about this national team. But he seems neat.

5. Spain: Pedri

Sorry for being baaaaasic. To be honest, I don't really find Spain NT that attractive. If I have to choose one, it's gonna be Pedri. I love how flushed his cheeks become after playing for a while.

6. Italy: Giacomo Raspadori.

It was a difficult choice, because most of Italian players are insanely hot. But I let the Napoli fan within me win. Look at his golden eyes and Bambi eyelashes. He deserves a special mention here.

(alternative choices included Di Lorenzo, Meret, Scamacca, Calafiori, Fagioli and Pellegrini)

7. Croatia: Luka Modrić

I don't think I will surprise anyone here. Yes, I love Luka Modrić. I chose this pic of him to tell you what I'd love to do with him. It doesn’t do justice to the full scale of beauty, but we all know how Modrić looks like. Like an angel. Like an 80s mangaka's wet dream. Even as a grandpa with weird facial hair, he still has that flair to him.

8. Albania: Jasir Asani

Okay, I actually fell for him during qualifiers for one and one reason only. I won't lie to you. I mean, he is a pretty guy, but...

Size kink 😭

part 2 part 3

[schlottiszn]

I can't even begin to describe what the 22/23 season means to me. Every single one of these boys is so special to me.

They have a bond. They have team spirit. They play for each other. They fight for each other. They give everything for each other.

They are a family.

And THAT is what this season and this team is about. And nobody can take that away from us. Nobody. We will always have these memories.

We'll always remember how Sébastien came back after he had beaten cancer. How he fought against every obstacle that stood in his way and what he gave us when he finally came back. He was and is such a strong person who fought so much bigger and more important things this year than this championship. I am so proud of him. Thank you, Sébastien.

We'll always remember players like Julian Brandt, Donny Malen, Rapha Guerreiro and Karim Adeyemi. Those players that most people had already given up on. How they fought their way back with outstanding performances. How much they influenced our attacking game. Their individual qualities were so important. Karim's speed, Julian's talent for spotting and creating space and his timing for runs, Donny's incredible dribbling ability and Rapha who somehow combines all of these qualities. Thank you, boys.

We'll always remember our faithful, I kind of wanna say child, Felix Passlack. Felix plays for us since he is a kid. He loves us and the club and we love him. I wish him the best of the best in Bochum. But he will always be a Borusse. No matter what. Thank you, Borusse.

We'll always remember our fighters. Emre Can, Julian Ryerson, Marius Wolf. The boys who gave everything for our badge. They threw themselves in every tackling. Often they had to do the dirty work. But they got it done. Without complaining. They just did what had to be done and were amazing while doing that. Thank you, fighters.

We'll always remember our centre backs Niki, Mats and Schlotti. Of course. They were the heart and soul of our defense. With their amazing and outstanding straddles but also with every, sometimes the smallest, mistakes which also are a part of us. They gave everything for a win. Everything. Even a discolated shoulder couldn't stop Schlotti from doing his work. They were impressive and true role models. Thank you, boys.

We'll always remember the man without we would've never even gotten as far as we've come. Gregor Kobel, our wall in front of the wall. This guy was and is one of the most talented and extraordinary goalkeepers in Germany and even Europe. But when he couldn't stand on the pitch for us, our number 2 Alex Meyer was a perfect replacement for him. They always gave their best! Thank you, my goalkeepers.

We'll always remember one of the most talented players our club has ever seen. Jude Bellingham. I can't even start to say how much this guy means to me and how much I'll miss him. It hurts so much that he will not stay with this wonderful team for another season or even more. But I truly wish him all the best and that he reaches every possible goal he has in his life. He breathes our club philosophy. He lives our values and everything us fans believe in. This boy IS Borussia Dortmund in every sense. Thank you, starboy.

We'll always remember our one true captain, Marco Reus. This title would've been for him. Every player, every fan wished him this trophy. His life and career was marked by many many setbacks and unfortunate moments. But he fought his way back. Everytime. So today he could stand where he stood. Every single human wanted to see him lift the trophy. But it isn't over. He still has one season to make his dream come true. Thank you, Captain.

And at the end, of course, we'll always remember our coach, Edin Terzic. I couldn't even imagine another guy standing at the side line of the pitch, just after one (full) season. I love his energy, I love his personal nature. I love how he can motivate a large group. This guy is just so perfect to be OUR coach. He loves this club from the bottom of his heart and we love him from the bottom of ours. Thank you, Coach.

This. I needed to say all of this. Cause as I said, this season is special to me because of exactly those people. And nobody can take that from me. Ever.

[docholligay]

Transit

“Oh, I mean, last time,” I say with a chuckle of hubris, spitting in the eye of God, “we’d come up around the Strawberry Fest*, and the train was so packed in--you know, it was, everyone was leaving at the same time, so we had to stand--” 

“I think we lost each other.” Bel adds.

“Yeah, I was telling Jill, ‘fuck it, we’ll find them in Ely, it’s not very big.’” I have a broad smile, a fool, an idiot, and I shake my head at my mom, “But it’s not like that, the winter fair.” 

And you what? I was telling the truth. It was not the same as the Strawberry Fair, and the issues we encountered were not the same as the ones from Strawberry Fair, but my grand silliness was in assuming there would be no problem at all. 

Come with me, on a tale of not exactly woe, but perhaps a very exciting 20 minutes in some other nation’s history as we attempted to get back to Ely. 

Background information:

It is COLD. This is coming from me, Lord High Chancellor of “y’all don’t know from cold, I am so very manly tee hee” it was fucking cold, alright? In the realm of 30F/-1C, which, back home, is chilly I’ll say, but not such a huge deal as to attract notice. But. This country is wet**. This country is so fucking wet. This country is a kitchen sponge continually being misted with ice cold water. Stepping outside is the equivalent of being smacked in the face with a damp wool sweater. It takes my hair, my fine, short hair, an hour to dry. And so, we are walking through clouds on the verge of freezing. 

Taking into account the above, and also the fact that I am both proud and an idiot, my feet are completely numb. I’m not saying much, but I’m having trouble keeping my feet under me. Doc, what does this have to do with being proud and an idiot? I chose the cute shoes that day, friends, with naught but a wool sock and a thin leather sole between me and the ground. It was, how do you say, unwise. 

If we miss this train (Read: cluster of trains) we will be trapped in Cambridge for the better part of an hour or so. 

To be perfectly arrogant, in addition to being proud and an idiot, I can bear up under quite a bit, and simply set feeling anything to the side in pursuit of an experience. I forget that other people are not necessarily built that way, and my mother is very tired and a bit dead on her feet. 

In conclusion, we have to get this train back to Ely. 

Dani (cleverly (?--we report you decide)) spots a train going to Birmingham by way of Ely, which’ll take off sooner than the one we were originally planning on taking. Excellent! Brilliant, as they say, even. It also gave me an idea of what a Cross Country train, which I will later be taking to Birmingham, looks like. It seems fine, which is broadly how I would describe most of the trains in the UK that are not EMR, where hope goes to die. We sit, chatting. It’s lovely. We laugh about not wanting to go to Birmingham. What a delightful time. 

And then, that angel’s trumpet of coming destruction: The vioce of a calm British man on a trainline. “This train will be delayed as the driver is stuck in Cambridge traffic.” What can I do but start laughing? As I understand it, the Mill Road Winter Fair is one of two great calamities that befall Cambridge a year, and it dovetails with interview week***. Apparently, this is not largely known to people who presumably should know better, and so here we are, sitting on a train to Birmingham, discussing our options about switching to another, better, perhaps faster train. 

I look at Dani and Bel with the same sort of look, I imagine, that people give me when we’re in the woods and I ask if they want to go along the ridge or if they’d rather drop down into the valley. I understand the words they are saying, but I do not understand the implicatons of them. We’re going to stay on, declares Dani, with a sense of assuredness that comes when you have a train in the hand versus two in the bush, and we all agree that this seems as good an idea as any. 

For a few minutes, at least. 

And then, the voice of the announcing angel comes again, and tells us that anyone going to Ely should really consider getting off the train, as they aren’t sure when the driver will be there and the train the next platform over is terminating at Ely. Oh, by the by, that train leaves in three minutes. 

A wave of humanity rises as if in a Japanese woodcut, all moving in a herd toward the platform across the station. Now, for my American and Canadian readers, at the very least, let me explain how a smaller train station in the UK looks. They aren’t big, particularly, but because of how trains work, to get to another platform, you have to go over or under, generally over, with a set of stairs****. An entire crowd of people is running to the stairs, running up and over the platform in a desperate bid to not be stranded in Cambridge. As we run up the stairs, a voice assures and disappoints, that the train to Ely will be delayed, and, in my extreme foolishness and naive trust of the “National” Rail “””System”””, I think, “Lovely! They’re holding the train for us!” 

OH DOC DOC. 

We make it to the other platform, and the train, my friends, my companions, is not even there. Leaving in three minutes, my god. So now we watch. The train to Birmingham is helpfully being delayed minute by minute, as the second it turns 16:13, the train will be leaving at 16:13, until, of course, it is 16:14, and then the train will be leaving at that time. Our train to Ely, however, exists in that mysterious liminal space of merely ~delayed~, which keeps things fresh and exciting. 

Which will take off first? We eye the Birmingham train across the distance, nearly daring it to leave before thhe train to Ely even arrives, looking at each other on the platform, eyes dashing about like frightened animals. From where will relief come? Is there any escape from Cambridge? 

There are many opportunities to place bets here, as suddenly, a third horse enters the race! 

A train to Norwich, via Ely, pulls into the station next tot he train to Birmingham. Apparently Ely is a good place to go through, if not rest at. We turn to each other. I have not the knowledge to divine the future, and turn thus to my oracles of public transportation, they who dwell in the Fens and hear the whispers of the eels, who follow the rivers of iron on boats run by the capricious gods of Great Northern and CrossCountry. Unfortunately, they don’t seem to have any clue what to do either. The delight of the British train system is that it is happy to supplly you with the ability to make many wrong choices. We debate. We watch. 

We crawl BACK across the stairs and platform, and get on the train to Norwich. 

As we sit, the train to Birmingham pulls away. 

*This is the wrong name for it, but it’s also what I said, so, [sic]

**I keep saying this, and Dani keeps saying, “Is it? I think it’s been a bit dry.” and I am mere moments from popping her in the face, wherein water will gush from her like a sodden foam ball. 

***This is, apparently, the one week where they do every single interview for The Smart Youths to see if they’re getting into Cambridge. What a low stress environment. Fantastic idea. 

****I was absolutely unaware of this when I previously went to the UK, and sent an email to Dani trying to ask about how difficult it was to change trains, but my question about what the fuck a train station even looks like was so basic that it took two or three emails before she even understood what I was asking. So I am here for you, my fellow Americans.

[anelespyrodrawings]

¡Alastor overpowers Vox!

I am currently studying for one of the final exams in February , for my Licenciatura of Kinesiología y Physiotherapy and involves underextending electromagnetic waves for using electronic machines for therapeutic use

seen that I am also a Fan of Having Hotel made this more fun to study

why? Because Alastor and Vox uses electromagnetic radiación to trasmite their voices and in case of Vox , well the Tv , Wifi and and phone.

and also, it Explain that Alastor is above Vox

How is this?

¡well, first we have to know that electromagnetic radiación is!

wiki

in consists of waves of the electromagnetic (EM) field, which propagate through space and carry momentum and electromagnetic radiant energy.[1] 

Types of EMR include radio waves, microwaves, infrared, (visible) light, ultraviolet, X-rays, and gamma rays, all of which are part of the electromagnetic spectrum.[2]

you did't undestad ? don't worry , I was confuse also ( I am form Argentina so the English terminology is new D)

to simplify , they are invisible ways of energy that go through the sky and any space, the earth, you and I, have energy that its acumulated and tranforme , becuse al goese way back to the Big Bang. the sun radiates this type of ways, that why in the other paragraft you have that it says.

RADIO waves ( Alastor , AM, and FM radio , ) microwaves (yes the one artifact that helps you heat you favorite warm drink), ifrared (LASER!!!) Xrays and Gamma ( the worst ones for your body or any beging)

the radio waves can ve hear! (sound) but not before or when they get too thin.

Take this picture , this the way the electomagnetic ways are repesent for undestanding them ( purple Adove , red and blue in the other) in matematic ( don't panik or stop, it easy I promise) way to represent it it whit this curve, the more frecuent, more taller (Amplitud) less long is the wave and the more it penetrates in objects ,the objects can absorve this wayvs (yes our bodys too) and that why we have more or less tan skin on summer !

¿what the hell ? what are you saing Anele? how the radio of my TV, favorite music or my warm drink has to do whit how tan is my skin?

well that becauseeeeeee ,¡the sun itself radiates this waves! all of them , but some becuse of the mantel of Ozone prevent us to die, yea imagine if All the Ulta violet rays, the C ones that are the most dangerose ones go to earth.... we will die burning as the core of the earth or hell is!!!

Now ultraviolets are really not al bad news, it helps our bodys whit our Vitamine D and to have calsium and stronger bones! (yes tan that body beatiful human, whit Verosica in consert perhaps jejeje...just in the not so agressive for our body Hours, plese

now you have to know there a space between the ifraRED and ULTRAViolet , that ivolves what we can see , the color of the specturm , that it were the TV of color comes ! (go again up to the second picture.

you see the rainbow!

So clearly Alastor is adove Vox in terms of power and also you an see it clearly in the colors pallet , Vox has blue and red , and Alastor only red,

sooo still even of FM and TV are in the same, Alastor controls Am And Adove!

[leftistfeminista]

Anti-Fascist political prisoner kept in German prison in nothing but her underwear!

On May 16, 2022, the Turkish-born anti-fascist Özgül Emre was arrested at Heidelberg Central Station . The following evening, the two anti-fascists Serkan Küpeli and Ihsan Cibelik were also arrested in their apartments in Hamburg and Bochum. The three anti-fascists were all arrested on the basis of §129b StGB and are in various prisons in Hamburg, Rhineland-Palatinate and North Rhine-Westphalia.

The same patriarchal state attempts to dehumanize a female prisoner, Özgül Emre, by forcing her to wear prison clothes, which she refuses. This led to her going on hunger strike in her underwear for 44 days until she managed to get the demand withdrawn. Özgül is imprisoned under Section 129B because the German state acts as an extension of the Turkish state. 

This letter was recently sent by Özgül Emre from Rohrbach Prison of Germany to her lawyer and translated from Turkish into English. Özgül is a revolutionary from Turkey who was arrested in Germany on 16th of May, 2022 and is accused of being a member of DHKP-C (Revolutionary People’s Liberation Party Front). As an exiled revolutionary in Germany, she worked in wide range of committees; from anti-drug committees to anti-racism committees. The attacks of German state didn’t stop with this mafia like kidnapping. From the detention onward, they forced prison uniforms on Özgül Emre in Rohrbach prison. German state knows very well that Revolutionaries do NOT and NEVER wear prison uniforms. In 1984, 4 revolutionaries died as a result of hunger strike to oppose the introduction of prison uniforms in prisons of Turkey. Until this day, there is no prison uniforms thanks to 4 martyrs. Özgül Emre comes from this uncompromising tradition to keep up the identity, integrity and dignity of being a revolutionary.

https://samidoun.net/de/2022/11/brief-von-oezguel-emre-18-08-2022/

Here is a translated letter from Özgül Emre , written on August 18, 2022 in Rohrbach JVA, approximately 1 month after the end of her hunger strike and her victory over the prison authorities :

But neither my revolutionary identity nor the fight for rights and freedoms can be prevented by repression and arrests. Immediately after my arrest, the Turkish consulate in Mainz was contacted. Can you imagine that? And although I didn't want to have any contact with this institution, I was asked if I was interested.

The public prosecutor chose the detention center intended for me and the judge accepted this facility. I was placed in a prison far from my home and even far from the place where I was arrested. A prison that you can't reach if you don't have a car. In a place that no one knows about. What collaboration against a revolutionary journalist, a woman who has no other interest than the fight against fascism. What is the reason for this hatred? Of course, the answer to this question is no secret to me. Especially not after everything I've experienced up to this point. The attacks began on the day of my incarceration, when, despite my expressed rejection, I was forced to wear prison clothes. I said: “I would rather die than wear prison clothes” and waged a fight in the form of the death fast, which ended on the 44th day with the handing over of the civilian clothes that the prison had sold to me. From my point of view, the death fast that I started was a success because I received my clothes. I would now like to tell you how 42 of the 44 days of my resistance went and what kind of resistance I ultimately led.

As a woman, especially with my cultural background, it was difficult to appear in front of other people in my underwear. At first I tried to cover my upper body with a towel and my lower body with a wool blanket (I was wearing tight, short underwear). The food distribution was carried out by male prisoners accompanied by male officials. Naturally, when I sat up to take a drink, I felt uncomfortable. But ultimately this was a political stance and I was in resistance. The real shame should be felt by those who put me in this situation. The days passed and after some time I stopped covering myself with towels and blankets. Because of the pain and lack of strength, I was no longer able to worry about these things. Even the distribution of sugar and salt, which is urgently needed during a hunger strike, became part of the repression against me.

BIS BALD! Özgül EMRE 18.08.2022

PS: In retrospect, I saw prisoners wearing their own clothes. That means: It's possible. Prisoners awaiting release could spend weeks on their clothes. This means that even though I was dying, the Federal Court of Justice deliberately withheld my clothes. I could have had these clothes at least until the clothes ordered and delayed by the institution arrived. My lawyer suggested that, but that too was rejected. I haven't had any problems with officials or other prisoners other than refusing to eat.

(Even if I did, that wouldn't be a reason to do all this to me!)

[rapid-oxidization]

The emre asks you asked for tehee:

- what age was he inducted into the cult?

- does he see orin as an actual sister, or a just a fellow spawn of bhaal?

- how much of the crown heist was his idea?

- did he ever doubt/waver before his memory loss?

- who is the companion he didnt expect to like but ended up being good friends with?

And most importantly:

- would he lick the dead spider

hehe yippie questions from my favourite durge enthusiast <333

I'm not knowledgable about things like exact timelines and where they exist (I thought I remembered us chatting about a specific age that a durge would've had to be inducted by? I remember we brought years into it and everything? I also read a reddit post that said canonically durge would've been brought back to the temple around the age of like?? 10??) If 10 is the canonical age then I think that would be realllllyyyyy interesting to work with, although I primarily imagined him being like. Young, but not remarkably young for genre-compliant major life events to happen. Around 14 or 15.

Ok so imagine. You're a teenager who has undergone a not-unconsiderable amount of attempted indoctrination a la Sceleritas Fel. You just murdered the circus troupe that raised you and taught you everything you knew. What would've been the key rhetoric to detach you from the emotional attachments you had to your adopted family? Probably Sceleritas told you that these aren't your real family anyway, these are just some clowns doing tricks for a quick buck, why would you of all people want to associate with them, I know your real family, they're all waiting for you to come back home... etc. I think at one point he tried to find a sort of familial comfort in Orin. I think at one point he would've tried to be a big brother to Orin. Like part of what brought him to the Temple was that he had become attached to this idea of having blood relatives. He was driven to kill so that he could meet his blood relatives. So like. TLDR, it's complicated. I think in the early days, when he had fleeting thoughts of "haha wow, I got myself into some shit" he had plans about how he could get the two of them out of there and how he could provide a safe home for Orin. I think at one point he realised that, even if he could, she wouldn't have followed him. Directly pre-amnesia he tells himself he very much has a like. Family by technicality. Sort of relationship with her. I think a very very small, hidden part of him still wished for a universe where he could be a good older brother to her.

Lol I think Gortash definitely would've thought of it first. Emre definitely brushed it off as a "haha can you imagine" kind of plan, but would've acted as a (very sarcastic) soundboard to amuse him. And then I think he would've slowly realised that Gortash was serious about it, and also how it would align with his own goals. And after that would've gotten a lot more serious about working with Gortash to make sure the plan was airtight.

YEAH see Answer 2. He is very much driven by his need to find a sense of belonging. It just so happens that Bhaal provided him with the strongest sense of belonging. At the height of his cult leader shenanigans he was running off a very grandiose sense of "this is literally what I was born to do". That doesn't mean that his memories of killing his troupe ever stopped haunting him. That doesn't mean he never had homoerotic complicated attachments to people outside the Temple (coughGortashcough). Like. Enacting Bhaal's will was what he was literally born to do but sometimes he sat on the edge of his bed and actively wished it wasn't. Insert that one TSOA quote about being a weapon here.

LAE'ZEL 100%. Canon event for them to have that "Usually when subordinates question me, I kill them"/"Subordinate? Stfu" interaction in the grove. The whole creche incident in late Act 1 is a very big turning point in their relationship.

YEAH lol i didn't find it in my og playthrough with him but i am going to be on the lookout this time

[honeydewedlemon]

daily oc fun fact:

nobody but emr knows reduatda, bc nobody besides emr can ever remember her.

I feel like I’d cry if I was either of them because imagine being the only person to ever know this one person, and imagine only ever having one person remember you

[kylewalker-peters]

emre can losing the ball... imagine my shock and surprise

[hephaestn]

Don't worry about Halit not seeing Casablanca yet. Esra is going to show him the movie and he's going to flex about how he ended up getting a happy ending unlike Humphrey Bogart. ���

Also, under no circumstances, do not imagine Esra forcing him to watch Robin William's entire filmography and Halit has the biggest smile the whole time because Esra's happy 🥰🥰🥰

Isn't it interesting that Halit doesn't like Meliha because she always pokes her nose into places she shouldn't but he loves Esra for the EXACT same reason?!

I've also been wondering how their kids are going to deal with the fact that their Dad shot their asshole grandfather. And he wasn't particularly fond of their grandmother but he did carry her corpse out of that train compartment. But she's also not dead right now. And Ahmet thought he had dad problems!

It's also been bugging me since the first time I saw S02E01, but who on earth told Halit that fake Peride's actual name was Esra? The only person in 1919 who knew her name was Ahmet and he didn't tell anyone. So who told Halit? I have to know!

okay but now we actually need an episode set in modern times with esra and halit watching casablanca. it’s a must. it’s a need. i think i would be healed from my every trauma if i see them at esra’s apartment istg

STOP that’d be so adorable 😭🩵 anon, you’re going to make me want to write fanfic about these two at this rate (as if i didn’t want to already). which do we think is esra’s favorite robin williams film? i think halit would go for night at the museum or jumanji… you know, just to stick with the impossible things happening theme.

oh my god you’re absolutely right! i hadn’t thought about it like that. halit in his mind probably like: wdym you’re a journalist only my WIFE can be a journalist smh

oh but eshal babies though 🥺 they’d be a terror, but so adorable. halit shooting their grandfather is so very valid, i’m sorry, everyone is far better off without that figure in their lives. but imagine the family dinners… ahmet would be their stepbrother, but also uncle, oh lord

IT’S DRIVING ME NUTS! i think we might have a plot hole with that, tbh. because before i started rewatching season 2, i thought. okay, maybe when halit is stealing from dimitri he made dimitri tell him (now i’m not even sure if dimitri even knew esra’s name, but i believe he did) but it can’t be that!!!! because he knows esra’s name in 2022 and he hadn’t met dimitri yet. then, i was thinking the only other person that knows the name esra is leyla through the tale esra told her. but how on earth would halit and leyla speak when she’s just a little kid?

i just wish they’d shown us how halit knows. because when they’re at his place in s2e2 he says ‘esra’ in such a… i now know your real name. OKAY BUT HOW!!! please someone dm emre sahin and ask him because i’m going bonkers with this

[wildissylupus]

You agree, I deliver. You don't need to do all if it seems like too much work, but I cannot wait for your take.

- Someone who escaped Talon in the past, but unlike Baptiste, did not go out searching to help nor get help from someone.

- Emre's pupil/partner in crime. Somehow cross paths due to unforeseen circumstances.

- A humble but skilled sniper. Socially awkward around those who boast about their shooting. (Bonus points if you can make them dislike Jack's constant taunting praise towards Ana's skills.)

- A Cowperson who lost touch with their countryside culture and dialect speech.

- A literal janitor who can kick a mop bucket at enemies and thwack a twisted up washcloth for melee attacks.

- A secretary that works for one of the many ill natured organizations. Your choice. (Talon, Vishkar, etc...)

- A lawyer running from the feds after finding and discovering a PETRAS Act loophole.

- An Omnic who hates other Omnics.

Ok let's get into it;

First one, I actually can't say much because this is already an OC I'm working on and if I said something it would spoil that.

Second one, I'm going to go with the pupil angel. I'd like to think that this is an omnic characters, probably someone who was brought in during the early golden age. For unforeseen circumstances I think they could be someone forced into one of the Anubis loyalist groups, so when Overwatch came to take their group down they took the first chance to get out of that situation.

For the sniper character I could picture this character being on the younger side, around the same age as Illari, maybe a bit older. I could see them being someone who grew up idolizing Overwatch, watching the cartoon, keeping updated on their missions etc.

A cowperson who lost touch with their countryside culture, I could see this person being a victim of the rising gang activity in the southwest, maybe even a victim of the amount of Mega farms using child labour as well. I think they would be an NPC, maybe someone in a Cassidy or Ashe focused mission.

Either they're an ex-Overwatch janitor or a Talon janitor, or both, yeah let's go with both. Gotta pay the bills somehow. I could see them being a bit antagonistic towards a lot of heroes as there is no way all of them a clean. I could also see them being on the older side. Maybe they helped fight in the first Omnic crisis but after they just went back to their old job. I think this character would truely be a "True Neutral" type character. This person just want's to pay the bills.

Just to make this persons life difficult, I'm making them a secretary to Talon. This person is traumatized. Like could you imagine having to deal with the documents that Moira makes on her experiments. Also they are 100% done with Reaper and Sombra's bullshit, they just want to do their job, get paid and go home. They don't need to be threatened or hacked every five seconds.

This Lawyer probably used to work with or was inspired by Adawe. I could see them being from Numbani as well. I could also see them being besties with Lifeweaver, just picturing them talk shit on different governments would be amazing. They would also become the Overwatch teams lawyer just to spite the UN, did they ask for a lawyer? No. They got one anyway though. Also this person is 100% in contact with Sombra.

This Omnic was left over after the Omnium explosion in Australia, after which they started pretending to be human. As a result, in order to live in Junkertown, they had to say they hated Omnics. This was only pretend until Uprising, this is where the tables turned. They saw Null Sectors acctions as a disgrace and saw Mondatta's and other Omnics inaction as cowardly. This combined with the years they had already pretending to hate their own kind, it was easy for the act of hating to become real.

----------

I might come back to all these characters at some point and make them actual OC's (I'm already doing that with the first one after all). For now though, enjoy the little character concepts I made!!

[youremykindagirl]

SPOILERS FOR ERKENCI KUS FINALE

the best ’Can is back’ moment in the finale is when he’s talking to the doctor about why his memory suddenly came back and the doctor says “to put it unscientifically, Sanem is your medicine” and Jan gives him that high five because that is the Can that is lovesick for Sanem - that is poetry to him, he knows their love can do anything.

I’m trying to imagine Amnesia Can doing this and I can’t

second best - is him riling Sanem up and telling Emre that she’s so cute when she’s mad

[madibyrd]

Madi goes into withdrawal. People help her.

features in order of appearance: @akbartheolder; @hazelbeaufort; @nickalphonsus; @neshionals; @sagetomashardy

Of the many, many things to get back to, try and recoup and reset all this bloody bollocks back to normal ('People still have to eat, Emre,' Tomas said. Or maybe Emre just imagined him saying it, in his usual resolute flat-eyed fashion) Emre had a top priority.  And that was Madi. She'd salvaged him from the tree, but he hadn't seen a glimpse of her since.  And after Emre was thoroughly cleaned, fed, and slaked, he found his way to Madi's little home.

"Maz...nnnf,"  Emre winced as he peered into her home, and his senses retaliated instinctively.  He could clock what was happening fairly quickly. The buckets, the smell, the darkness, the stifling heat of her little indoor chulha.  It was a lot, but Emre beelined towards Madi. He didn't touch her just yet.   "Oi, babes.  Maz, can you hear me, luv?"

— ✿ ❀ ✿ —

Madi was not feeling okay, to say the least. SHe felt like something was trying to burst out of her so badly (it kept bursting out, she couldn't quite move from the bucket), she felt so, so cold, and her heart kept beating so fast, it didn't feel too bad, while a little voice in the back of her mind kept telling her if she only got some alcohol, she could get better. It would be an easy solution.

She didn't actually hear Emre come in, only realized he was near when he spoke, and Madi just raised her hand and gave Emre a thumbs up for a few moments. "Yeah, I can hear you. Hi? Are you--" but she couldn't finish the sentence, her insides came out of her once again. Once that was done, she wiped her mouth and looked over at Emre, "Sorry, I don't think I'm-- not the best company right now."

— ✿ ❀ ✿ —

"Dear me, shall I return when you're feeling better then?" Emre asked deadpan before he kissed his teeth and got to work.  "Seen you in far worse ways, as you well know, mate. Honestly this is your plan then.  Hole up for a few days and just let it pass.  You chat with Nesh at least?"  Emre bustled, straightening up Madi's little space, organizing it so she had more blankets, better access to the bucket. A wet rag for her mouth.  More water in general.  And he added more wood for her little oven.

Once things felt more organized, Emre finally folded beside Madi to sit next to her. He touched her damp hair, pushing it back from her pale, slick face.  "You're going to need help, you silly little muppet.  Why're you even doing this to yourself."

— ✿ ❀ ✿ —

Madi tried to follow Emre with her eyes as he moved around and chastized her, but after a few moments, she just felt like her head was spinning so instead she closed her eyes and tried to just listen to him, wiping her mouth with the wet rag as well. "I-- maybe. I just-- it's bad now, but it should be better in a bit, okay? I kind of did this once already." Different circumstances, half as old body, but Madi didn't think about that.

She leaned towards Emre and his touch even though she must have been completely disgusting and shouldn't have had to stick to him, but she just wanted the touch. It felt nice. "I need to-- to get better, that is why I am doing it. I need to get better and-- you know, not drinking is how I get better." Even if right now she didn't feel better.

— ✿ ❀ ✿ —

Emre's brow creased, but he kept stroking Madi's hair when it seemed she was amenable to the touch.  At least she seemed to have prepared somewhat; there was a earthenware jug nearby, filled with some blend of coconut and fruit juice.  Emre poured out a cup, even if he knew it was likely to just come back up anyway.  "Right.  This was how you stopped your bender when you was twenty-one like, yeah?" Maybe he got her age wrong, but he recalled the story.

She wanted to 'get better'.  All this time, she'd only spoke about how there was no need to get better. How Madi was perfectly fine the way she was.  How she didn't need any help; and conversely she didn't think anyone cared enough to help. And also she didn't deserve any help. A whole mess of reasons, but how she wanted to get better.  Like aggravating shadows in the corners of his eyes, memories that weren't his flit into his mind.  (The sensation of being terribly burned in a fire.  Madi screaming, pleading, crying. ) Emre couldn't remember. He didn't want to.

Instead, he offered her the cup of juice and asked carefully, "Why do you want to get better, as you say."  What's the point he wanted to add, but...maybe not yet.

— ✿ ❀ ✿ —

Madi nodded once, but then it made her dizzy, so instead she just croaked, "Yeah, kind of. It was-- it wasn't easy, but I got through it mostly okay." She also got through it while she was completely in shock for days. She also got into a shock after Emre, but things sometimes happened so fast on meridium, it was almost impossible to remain in a daze for long, especially when she also had to save her best friend who didn't actually die.

Sometimes Emre wanted to talk about. What better time than this. (It would have been easier not to say anything, on many levels, but what was the point of holding back now?) "You d-- you died. Because of me. I thought-- I thought you died." She shut her eyes. He was right, even just the few small sips of juice threatened to come back up again, but she was fighting it. "I don't want to hurt people. NOt-- not like that, not in any way. And this-- I am hurting people." And then the juice came out of her.

— ✿ ❀ ✿ —

"Mostly okay." Emre called bullshit on that.  More like Madi likely went through shite but in the triumph of overcoming the urge, she looked back with rose-tinted glasses.  Likely pinkened further by the fact that her sister Liv actually survived, too.  He moved the cup closer.  "Drink.  You'll hate me for it, but drink.  Honestly, did you chat with Tomas, or Nesh before going cold turkey, Mazzy."  Or maybe Hazel, or maybe not.  Everyone struggled return to normal but Emre wasn't even sure what normal was.

He'd died,  Madi then spilled onto him.  Emre said nothing yet, just remained quiet and tried not to think too hard on what that meant, or what shadows flickered in his periphery. A month in the trees.  He didn't die, he didn't fucking die.  That thing was not him. Madi corrected himself but Emre still swallowed back bile. "So you think it'll be a piece of cake then.  Fixing yourself.  Done it before, you can do it again, yeah.  Then you'll be right as rain, no harm to no one, no more.  Pretty fucking sound plan if you ask me."  It wasn't sound.  There was something off-kilter about this.  Some element missing in Madi's epic detox mission, but Emre couldn't put his finger on what.

Instead, he wrapped an arm around Madi's shoulders, and gave her a little cold squeeze.  "I know you'll argue, but you're being quite brave innit luv."

— ✿ ❀ ✿ —

"Uh-uh," Madi protested. "I don't want to." But still she took the cup and drank a couple of more sips. It tasted horrible, really, mixed with her own vomit taste, it was just horrible, but at least somewhere deep down she knew she needed it. "Didn't talk to them. Just-- before. Before all of this. But I'm fine." Really, if anything, her talk with Tomas previously should have been indication that doing this alone wouldn't be easy, but she was only hearing and obtaining what Tomas said during his lectures and his talks, so it didn't stick with her.

She gave him the stinky eyes. "I know you are being sarcastic right now, but I don't have any energy to actually argue back." And then he called her brave and certainly no energy to argue even though this was something she would have wanted to even more. So she just buried her head into his shoulder instead, trying to find some energy in his hug. "I should-- I should talk to somebody, right? One of them?" Except... "I can't move. I can't-- I can't get up and find them. Talk to them. I just-- I can't."

— ✿ ❀ ✿ —

"There's my girl," Emre purred softly, taking the cup the moment Madi was done with it.  A few more beats, and then he'd offer it again.  "You're fine, alright."  This was absolutely not fine.  None of this was fine but Emre wouldn't fight Madi on it.  Instead, he exhaled softly.  "Seems we can't stop fighting, can we.  Wager we've been fighting longer now than we've been friends on this bloody island."  That sounded horridly correct, if his timeline was right.  If he hadn't done that one thing that ruined them, permanently.

But really, if he hadn't killed Suresh, it would be something else, wouldn't it? It had to be that way.  Madi would find out sooner or later.  "I'm not being sarcastic," he said, perhaps a bit more plaintively than he meant.  "You just won't ever believe me  innit. Not anymore."

Madi saw some reason though, in her miserable state.  "Obvi, you little plum.  I'll go find them and bring them here. Which one would you want then - Tomas or Dr Nesh?"  And then because Emre felt he should, he also offered, "Hazel?"

— ✿ ❀ ✿ —

Madi was never going to drink juice again for the rest of time. Or at least for a really long time. It was horrible, but she gulped it down and hoped and prayed it wouldn't come back up. She could do this. She really could. But not when Emre was saying stuff like that. "Don't-- please, don't--" She wanted to be his friend but this really wasn't the time to have that conversation. "We can have more time in-- in the friendship column. The not-friendship can just be-- a blip. In the long run." Please, Emre, understand what I want to say, she pleaded silently. And the once again she said, "Don't, please. Just-- not now, okay? Later."

She bit her lips, tried to keep things down in her stomach as she took a couple of deep breaths. "Can you-- can you tell either of them? Both of them? Just so that-- so that they know." Breath in, breathe out. "And can you-- can you tell Hazel, too?" No need for an audience, but people knowing-- that couldn't hurt.

— ✿ ❀ ✿ —

Madi begged, but it wasn't necessary.  Emre searched inside him for that inevitable sting of hurt or pining or bitterness at Madi postponing any friendship chat until the ever-nebulous 'later'.  As if 'later' was a guaranteed moment of time.  He waited to see if his lip would curl, if he'd say something bilious to her and then soothe her rankle with an apology.  Poke and prick Madi just enough to get her upset.  Because 'upset' meant she still cared.  All these options, but Emre just nodded, and licked his lips, all gentle and matter-of-fact as he replied.

"Right, of course luv. Later.  Right.  What d'you want to chat about then?  I could distract you from...all this, yeah.  And before you try to send me away, it's not going to work.  You're not the only one who loves, you know."

Emre hummed in acquiescence about telling the others.  "I'll nip out when you manage to fall asleep."  If Madi was able to fall into anything deeper than a fitful sleep.  He wasn't sure if she could, but he wouldn't leave her now.

— ✿ ❀ ✿ —

"I'm not trying to send-send you away. I-- I'm glad you're here." Would Emre actually believe that? Or would he think it's nothing more than a pain induced declaration she'd take back later? But Madi couldn't quite think about that much. She'd worry about that later, because there would be a later. "I just-- you're right, they should know. Please. I don't think-- I don't think I could sleep anytime soon."

— ✿ ❀ ✿ —

"Stop begging, stop saying please. You don't have to beg me," Emre said, his voice caught like a frog in his throat.  "Just...just rest. Rest my darling."

Emre stayed with Madi then, and their conversation gently dipped to just random questions Emre asked as he tidied up Madi's home a bit more, made her drink more juice.  Held the bucket for her.  Wiped her face.  Let her chew on mint leaves (cheers Dr Nesh) until she retched again.  Read to her from a girl's mag he'd found in her hut.  When Madi's squirming slowed slightly, it was just enough for Emre to slip out of her hut and find Hazel.  A brief explanation of what Hazel would expect to find, and then a careful request that Hazel pay Madi a visit.  Please.

— ✿ ❀ ✿ — — ✿ ❀ ✿ — — ✿ ❀ ✿ —

She agrees. But she agrees with terms: Emre needs to remove any alcohol he might've stowed away in a hiding place that Madi knew about before Hazel is willing to help. She's not going one step forward and three steps back. Not anymore. Not with this.

She's not feeling too well, herself, after so long in the trees. When she'd finally given in to sleep, it'd been for about twelve hours straight. But she's awake now and the early light of dawn is bringing with it some relief. One: the voice that had roused her from that dead sleep is beginning to wane. Two: Madi is doing this. And she wants Hazel here to help her through it.

"You know, um, when I learned about this in school, they said, um – that a negative symptom is a positive sign. Like... like you're feeling really bad, but it's because your body's getting rid of bad stuff. It's doing its job," she tries to reassure as she places a new cold compress on Madi's forehead – which is a bit of a moving target, with how the other woman's shivering. "So, um. So this is a good thing. Even if I'm sure it doesn't, like... feel like it."

— ✿ ❀ ✿ —

Madi managed to doze off, but despite the fact that she didn't have any dreams (no nightmares either, which was a win for sure), she didn't have a restful sleep. It felt like she was on the verge of something but couldn't push through, and somehow she felt the cold even in the darkness of her sleep.

She wasn't sure what woke her up, she wasn't even quite sure where she was or what was happening, she just knew she was cold and shivering and so cold. So so so ridiculously cold. She was fire attuned, but this felt different somehow. And then a voice came and-- "Hazel, is that you?" she whisperred, her throat hoarse, a world of horrible taste in her mouth. She was still not really feeling well in her stomach, though. "Negative is positive. That sounds weird. Are positives also negatives?" she asked, trying not to focus on the fact that Hazel was right, none of this felt like a good thing.

"What-- what else did you learn? In school?" she needed the distraction, but maybe this wasn't the best topic. "What were you like in school?"

— ✿ ❀ ✿ —

“I think… positives are also positives.” Which would make everything positive, which is objectively not true, but… Hazel doesn’t comment on that. Instead she gently puts the back of one hand against Madi’s quivering cheek, trying and failing to hide her grimace. She’s burning up. “Oh, um, yes. It’s me. Hazel,” she answers belatedly.

There’s a lengthy pause between that and her next response, too, as she’s moving the damp cloth from Madi’s forehead to run it over her cheeks, her neck, her arms. Then she returns it to her forehead and closes her eyes, focusing on her attunement so that she can get a breeze going in the room, hoping that plus the water will bring her temp down. “I was… shy, at first. It was intimidating, being around all these strangers, especially because I didn’t do a lot of the conventional school stuff growing up. But I found some friends, and my uh — my first real girlfriend,” she admits on a small laugh. “And then I talked a lot. Too much, probably, but it was, um… I learned a lot. They have you do this thing called clinical, in nursing school, where you like — you have a hands-on experience in every specialty in the hospital. I guess to figure out which you like best. But um, I learned the most then. Sorry, that was — that wasn’t really your question, was it? I don’t know. I was… I learned a lot. Um, how do you feel?”

— ✿ ❀ ✿ —

It wasn't possible to fully push out her body's reactions to things, but Madi tried to focus on Hazel's voice, what she was saying. She could just picture younger Hazel careful and shy, wrapping her hands around her books to protect herself, and then opening up as she got to know more people.

"No, it's okay, I-- I like hearing this. I wanna get to know your past, what you were like in all different stages of your life. So if you want to, I could-- I want to listen." Normally Madi probably wouldn't have admitted it this bluntly, would have felt awkward or anxious over it, but the fever was strong enough that she just said it as she felt it. She might feel all the awkwardness later, but for now, she was feeling too bad because of everything else. "I don't-- I don't feel too well," she admitted it. "It's-- really cold. I and it feels like-- I don't know, I don't know how to put it, I just feel like something is not right." She was breathing strangely, though she couldn't quite tell how weird or what was wrong with it.

— ✿ ❀ ✿ —

“How’d you train to be a firefighter?” Hazel asked abruptly, wanting to keep Madi distracted but realizing her unnatural breeze is dying out when she’s talking. “That’s a job that, um… requires some practice, right?”

But there are things that can’t be ignored, and as Madi goes on Hazel nods. Her breath’s short but there’s not much that can be done for that, other than soothing other things. Hazel keeps the air moving, as if that’ll promote breathing, then rifles through the bag she brought. There’s yellowslipper, which… isn’t too helpful right now, given that Tomas had told her that its best use is for migraines. Unless… “How’s your head? Oh wait!” Here, a jar of cloudy, light purple liquid. The bobbler fruit’s juice, diluted with water. It doesn’t exactly look appetizing but… it’ll do. “Can you sit up, just a little? Here,” Hazel prompts, using a hand to stabilize Madi’s back as she shifts the other woman up then lifts the jar to her lips. “Take a little sip of this for me. Please. It’ll help you feel less cold.” As Madi works on that, Hazel ticks back a damp strand of the other woman’s hair without a second thought, then clears her throat. “Um… did I ever tell you about the time my sister ended up at the hospital I was working at? It’s a funny story, actually.”

— ✿ ❀ ✿ —

"Yeah, a lot." Madi replied quietly, weakly. "You need to be in a certain kind of shape to even apply, and then they build from there. Both teach you what to do in emergencies, how to handle them, how to handle people during those situations. It's a lot. And then we had to keep going to trainings yearly to make sure we're up to par." It was something she didn't originally think she could do, but she wanted to give it a try and it resulted in over a decade of good years on the field.

It was a nice bit of distraction, to talk a bit, but then Hazel asked her to sit up, and the reality of her situation hit her all over again. She didn't want to sit up, didn't feel like she could, but Hazel helped her and she tried to give her a grateful smile. Maybe it turned out more like a grimace, but she was doing her best. "What-- what does that do?" she asked before she took a few small sips.

If the situations was different, maybe she wouldn't have done it,  or would have hesitated more, but after a few sips she just laid her head onto Hazel's shoulder so a moment, breathing slowly. "You-- you haven't. Can you tell me?"

— ✿ ❀ ✿ —

“Was there, like, a firefighter gym?” Hazel says, half joking, but then realizing, “You know… I don’t think I ever stepped foot into a firehouse back in the world. I’ve only seen them in movies. What was the one that you worked at like?”

Then comes the whole sitting up thing, which is a process, but Madi gets up a bit and that’s good enough. “There you go. That’s good. Just need you to drink this and, you know, um. Don’t want you to choke.” Maybe not the most reassuring, but Madi’s getting little mouthfuls down, so it’ll do. “Okay, that’s good for now. You don’t want to drink too much of this stuff. Trust me,” she grimaces with a little smile, trying to keep it lighthearted despite how Madi’s pallor, her constant shaking, makes her nervous. “This helps with fevers. Which, believe it or not, you’ve got right now.”

Hazel tenses up for a moment when Madi leans against her. Her skin is hot. Not that it hurts, of course, but she’s pretty averse to touching in general and the heat doesn’t help and just last night she’d been thinking — she’d thought — it doesn’t matter. Those had been bad dreams. That’s all. “She was, um…” Hazel grimaces again. “Well, she was drunk. We were in our early twenties, I was in school doing my ER clinical. I was about to leave for the night when suddenly I hear someone calling my name. But not really my name, like, all sorts of nicknames and stuff, and I knew who it was before I even saw her, and Ivy was sitting there in this bed and I was like — like, why are you here, what happened, and she was like I just wanted to see you! Aaaand then she puked. All over.” Hazel laughs a little, a tight sound, but her hand has wandered up, just the lightest touch of her fingertips against Madi’s hair. “The bouncers from the bar made her friends take her to the hospital, but we just gave her some anti nausea meds and I took her home with me. She was okay.” Hazel pauses, taking a shaky breath before trying to say with confidence: “And you will be, too.”

— ✿ ❀ ✿ —

"Yes and no," Madi said after a few long moments. "They are accurate, but they usually don't show all and it's not-- they aren't as big and pretty. It would be nice, but it wouldn't. Not every station has a gym, I've worked at one where there wasn't and one where it did."

She didn't choke, thankfully, but in her state, what she was given tasted horrible and she felt like it would be coming back up for a few very long seconds. SHe shot her eyes and grimaced and hoped for the best and this time her stomach was hopefully empty enough it didn't all come back. And hopefully it would help her fever because yeah, "I feel so cold," she muttered. "So badly cold."

She listened to Hazel tell the story with a small, tired smile on her lips. "It sounds like she had a good night." She at least reached the point where just thinking about alcohol made her want to throw up again instead of wanting another drink. Or at least she kept telling herself that and hopefully it would work. That was what got her here, she didn't need it. "Thanks, I hope so too. It doesn't feel like it right now. I just-- I am so cold and so tired." She slowly laid back down onto the bed and closed her eyes. She just woke up but she still felt so tired and while she slept, at least she wouldn't feel everything she did in that moment.

— ✿ ❀ ✿ —

“I know,” Hazel murmurs sympathetically when Madi mentions feeling cold, though she can feel the warmth radiating from her skin from here. “This’ll fix that. I—“ Promise. You’re not supposed to do that, not with a patient. But this is Madi. But… still. “I’ll leave it here for you, okay? I-I mean I’m not — I’ll just —“ She starts and stops, frowning for a moment as she stares at the makeshift pillow that Madi had been resting on. It’d be so easy. Maybe it’d be an act of mercy. It’d be fast enough, with how Madi is already breathing, and she might not even fight back, and —

“Yeah, she did. She was, um, she was good at that.” Hazel focuses back in to work up a small smile. And then she does make a promise, of sorts, with Madi’s hot face against her shoulder and her fingertips moving against the other woman’s hair. She could cover her mouth. She could —

“Okay, well, you just get some more rest for now. And I’ll um… I’ll be here for a while.” She gets up and away from the bed as Madi lays back down. It doesn’t help. Not as much as she wishes it would. Hazel wrings her hands in front of herself as she backs a few more steps away. “If you need anything, just um — just let me know. But… but yeah. Get some sleep.”

— ✿ ❀ ✿ —

Madi just quietly nodded and watched Hazel put the cup down. "You don't have to stay, if you don't want to," she felt the need to say it - even though she wanted her there. It was nice to have her there, even if it was just obligation and being a nurse and working at the apothecary. "Thank you, for being here. I-- I really appreciate it. And you." And she did try to rest after that - not too successfully, it felt almost impossible to properly rest, but she did try at least.

— ✿ ❀ ✿ — — ✿ ❀ ✿ — — ✿ ❀ ✿ —

It wasn’t as if Madi’s absence was unusual, given the chasm that had opened between them in the last month. No less Nick knew from the little flutters of memories that he had amends to make. A mammoth bridge to rebuild. Except there was something else too.

For the last hour Nick had been a sitting vigil, with his feet up on the chair in various contorted and uncomfortable positions. “Hey-hey,” he uttered, at the first sign of movement. “Morning sunshine.” It wasn’t, it was the dead of night, but dry humour was all he could fall back on. He felt out of place and out of depth, he’d only ever been on the other side of this. “How’re you feeling…?”

— ✿ ❀ ✿ —

Everything hurt, that was Madi's first thought as she slowly came to consciousness. She was still cold, but it also felt like there was just no air in her lugs. She couldn't have properly defined it, all she felt was that something was wrong with herself, it was abnormal.

She needed a few long moments to even realize who was sitting near her, talking to her - but thankfully she recognized Nick in the end. "Heeeeey," she croaked quietly, weakly. "I'm feeling like I should be getting close to-- you know, thinking about being okay." Maybe. There had to be an end to this, there just had to. "Have you been here long?"

— ✿ ❀ ✿ —

Nick swung his feet down and off the chair so he could scoot forwards just a tiny tad. “I should hope so co-co.” Though it didn’t escape him that her use of thinking as opposed to feeling meant progress was still a way off. “Not long we uh, we had a chat when I arrived.” He lifted one brow and chuckled, “you were telling me a story but it sounded awfully like the plot of the bee movie.”

“Reckon we can get that penned down on paper, yeah? Oldies aren’t gonna know it’s plagiarism.” He teased, but glanced about for the jug and cup he’d been informed of. “Up for something sweet? You’ve got a choice of…papaya or…papaya or…yup still papaya.” Nick smiled, but quickly gritted his teeth in determined ignorance of the voice that needled in his head.

— ✿ ❀ ✿ —

Madi couldn't remember being up earlier, not when Nick was around, though she didn't know what any of that meant. She just knew she felt really really naseous, like she was becoming ice and she wanted to scratch the wall for some alcohol. She didn't want to, somewhere in the back of her mind she knew it would be better later, but now it just felt like if she could just drink a bit, just a tiny bit, things would be easier again.

"I-- I don't want anything sweet. No papaya or anything," she resisted. "You should-- you know, have some. But I don't--" Madi looked up, and she needed a few moment to realize there was something off. Was that-- no, it couldn't be. Or... "... What are you doing here?"

— ✿ ❀ ✿ —

Nick resisted the urge to fall for a dramatic sigh, and for a moment just fell silent. Contemplating how he could go about convincing her to take a small sip of something. Anything. Someone had mixed up coconut water with honey for her. It was all speared through by the look of confusion come mild…horror?

Right. Nick couldn’t recall what his evil duplicate had done, except his and Mik’s home wasn’t the only to be ransacked. “To check on you…” Nick heard himself say, plainly ignoring that in part he’d come to apologise. Nick chewed on the inside of his cheek none of that was supposed to be important now. But it still was. He of all people should understand the weight of the past. “Make sure you’re okay, y’know. Look I… I know how you’re feeling, yeah?” Nick said, with a hand to the back of his neck as if he was breaking out in hives at the notion of telling the truth. “I just want to help, as your friend or well y’know drinking partner which makes me guilty by default, I guess? Look—shit, I’m not good at this. What I’m trying to say is, I’m sorry.”

— ✿ ❀ ✿ —

Nothing really made sense, especially not her dad sitting by her bedside-- wasn't she on Meridium? Did he arrive while Madi was resting and just didn't realzie it? He seemed really relaxed for somebody who just arrived to the island, but... maybe she was out for so long? But then wouldn't she have to feel better by now?

"You-- you make no sense, why would you call me your friend? And drinking partner? We aren't-- I don't think we drank together more than like, two times and even that was before--" Her heartrate was picking up. Whenever she was sick, it wasn't even her dad who was with her, he could barely take care of himself, let alone the kids, was what her mom always used to say. Typical men, she would say. And now he was here, sitting by her bedside. Him apologizing for something he hasn't even done kinda explained why her mom always said that, really. "Dad, what are you talknig about?"

— ✿ ❀ ✿ —

Nick had thought it was all on par, confusion and a little disorientation. She was still deep in the throes of it. Gentle encouragements probably the way to go, right? Except Nick was caught off guard. She so innocently and quietly provided an answer to all the confusion. “No, no, Mads I’m not your dad.” Would it be better to play to her confusion? Shit.

He scooted forward to press the back of his hand lightly to her forehead, except just as it was with Mik he didn’t dare touch. “Shit. Right, okay, Madi.” Nick fetched a fresh cloth to press to her forehead mopping up what sweat he could. “Deep breaths, yeah? Easy, easy, I’ll go get the doc.” This was way out of his remit.

— ✿ ❀ ✿ —

Madi closed her eyes for a moment - she wasn't a little kid anymore, but it was still kind of nice to have her dad be here and take care of her, try to take her temperature. It was all fine. She probably was just too tired still at first and thought it was Nick, nothing else.

"No, dad, don't say you're not my dad. I know things always haven't been the best but you're still my dad," Madi insisted, her breathing picking up as she tried to push herself up a bit to insist better. What logic there was, she wasn't sure, but she needed to make sure her dad stayed. "Please, don't leave. I-- I'm good enough for you to stay, we don't need a doctor," she pleaded. "Please, just stay."

— ✿ ❀ ✿ —

Nick stared, what sort of person would he be if he indulged this? More still if he refused her? He grimaced, but stayed where he was. “Okay, okay I’m not going anywhere.” Fuck. An all too familiar suffocating blanket of guilt encompassed him. He urged her to lay flat again. Then pulled the chair back close to perch on the edge of it.

This would be an ideal time to be fucking air attuned. Nick cautiously touched his hand to hers. She was too hot for him to hold. Much less that needle of temptation from a foreign voice came forth. “You’re alright, yeah? Sleep this off and then tomorrow…” What was he doing? “I’m sorry.” What difference did it make if the apology came from the wrong shitty parent, to the wrong burdened kid? “Tomorrow we’ll I don’t know…how about go climb to top of that mountain? Yeah? You can be ontop of the world.”

— ✿ ❀ ✿ —

Madi felt like she calmed down once her dad reassured her he would stay, but her breathing didn't actually slow, it was simply Madi's perception. "That-- that sounds great, I would love that," she said with a small, weak smile on her face, only for it to drop mere moments after. "I-- I don't feel so good, dad," she whispered as she started shaking more and more.

— ✿ ❀ ✿ —

Generic. He could keep this up if he stayed, generic. Plain bland father figure. Except her face fell, and with it so did Nick’s hope for her as the tremors grew more obvious. The severity growing by the second. “It’s okay, yeah?” But words weren’t much of a distraction nor medicine in this matter. Nick was close to giving up and abandoning Madi to find that damn doctor when —

— ✿ ❀ ✿ — — ✿ ❀ ✿ — — ✿ ❀ ✿ —

‘Shit, thank god you’re here. She’s seeing things man, I don’t think she’s in a good way—‘

Then, Nick had left. Now it was just Madi and him, all alone. In moments like this, Neshdan embodied calm and quiet. His fingers removed the wet cloth from her forehead and he used his attunement to draw the water out of the soft material, just to gently let the water wash some of the sweat from her face. „Deep breaths. Nice and steady.“ His hands moved to push her to her left side, then held her, one of his soft and cold hands wrapped tight around her right arm. „What’s going on, Madi?“, he asked, his words as composed as his mind. „What are you feeling? Try and describe it to me.“

— ✿ ❀ ✿ —

Something was happening, that much Madi could feel, but then all she could see was her dad stepping away and then somebody else coming into the frames - the doctor from around. What was going on with her. "Pain. It-- it hurts, I--" But she couldn't finish the sentence. Her shakes that she thought were nothing more than due to the cold got worse in only a second and she was just shaking now, unable to speak, just groan from the pain.

— ✿ ❀ ✿ —

„It’s okay. Madi, it’s okay. Deep breaths.“ Obviously, that was easier said than done, and he knew that. But there was nothing much he could do except from holding her, cooling her down through his own, icy body and timing the shakes. As he waited for her to calm down and for the shakes to subside, he remembered brief mentions of how she’s been drinking, and about how she might want to quit. No epilepsy, then, just seizures as her blood and body was getting rid of the alcohol.

Slowly, Neshdan sat down next to her, continued to keep her laying on left her side and then pushed a few strands of hair out of her face, gently pushed her mouth open for the part of a second to check for her tongue. „Everything’s all right, Madi. It will stop.“

— ✿ ❀ ✿ —

There were voices vaguely next to Madi, but she wasn't fully there in the moment. She could hear what Nesh was saying, somewhere at the back of her mind she understood that he was there, that she was as safe as she could be in this situation, but she was not there, not fully. Her body took over, shaking uncontrollably, her spit dripping from her, while she kept groaning in pain. At the forefront of her it was nothing but pain.

She wasn't sure how long it lasted, she couldn't tell when it all started, or even when it started getting better, but her her body was stuff, her head was pouding as the shaking slow stopped and her body relaxed.

— ✿ ❀ ✿ —

„Okay,“ Nesh said when she was slowly calming down, „Okay. You’re okay.“ When the shaking had fully subsided, he allowed her to lay down on her back again, but his hands stayed on her shoulders, for some reassuring touch. „You were having a seizure.“, he explained as he carefully took the dried cloth to wipe her spit away, „which can occur when you’re going through withdrawals. It’s rare, and I don’t think that it’ll happen again. When’s the last time you’ve eaten something? When did you last have something to drink?“

A lot of questions for someone that’s still partially knocked out, but it’s better to distract her. „When was the last time you had alcohol?“

— ✿ ❀ ✿ —

Seizure. Madi was having a Seizure. This was nothing like what she's experienced before and her exhausted brain of hers told her it really was a ridiculously stupid idea to even attempt to do this on her own - what would have happened if nobody came looking for her?

But they did. They did come looking. She was so convinced she was alone for so long but if that were the case, nobody would have been here.

She curled up as she laid down and closed her eyes as she listened to the doctor's questions. "Drink is-- I don't know, after this started. People-- they kept making me drink." Her voice was pained and weak, but at least she had some semblance of herself and her surroundings now. "Everything else before people got out of the trees."

— ✿ ❀ ✿ —

Nesh paused for a moment to take in her features, check for any other symptoms as she laid there. „Your symptoms are quite severe.“, he said, before his fingers reached for hers. Then, for a few minutes, he simply held her hand, fingers intertwined as he applied gentle pressure. Sometimes, that was all patients needed - and he had held many hands, as they struggled to fall asleep, cried, or died.

„We’re going to wait another fifteen minutes and then I’ll get you something to eat. Is that fine with you?“, he asked, now both of his hands holding one of hers. „I’ll sit with you for a while, watch over you while you rest. I told Hazel where I am, and she’ll know to get me in cases of Emergency.“

— ✿ ❀ ✿ —

Madi didn't have much strength in her, her entire body felt quite numb and wobble, for lack of a better word, but when Nesh took her hand and gently squeezed it, she tried squeezing it back. It was probably barely sensable, but she tried anyway.

"Not really sure if my-- my stomach can handle anything. But maybe-- maybe something to drink." Her throat did feel dry a bit, though she also tasted whatever was the effects of the last few hours? days? in her mouth, so even just getting some of that out would have been great. "Thank you. So much-- for all of this," she said quietly, her eyes closing down. as she tried to rest some more, not letting go of Nesh's hands for any bit.

— ✿ ❀ ✿ —

„I’ve barely done anything.“, is his honest reply, and Nesh doesn’t even have to leave to get some water, because one of the people that visited her before him left some. It’s not much, but probably enough for now. „Do you want me to get anyone?“, he asks, and he doesn’t know her well enough to know if there’s someone she could ask for.

As he waits for her reply, he makes sure to clean up some of the mess in her hut, lets some fresh air in and gives her a fresh and wet cloth to wipe some of her sweat away, just in case she wants to. „Take it easy, yeah?“

— ✿ ❀ ✿ —

Nesh claimed he hasn't done enough, but Madi didn't feel that way, but she was too tired to argue against it. She just wanted to feel normal. She'd thank him for his help later, once she could think properly.

She pushed herself up a bit to drink some water - it didn't quite sit well with her just yet, but it wasn't as bad as before. The reaction that became a habit for her in recent months that it would be easier if it was alcohol came up, but she gripped the cup of water harder and drank from that instead. "I'll-- yeah, I'll take it easy," she said taking the washing cloth away from him and then before he left, she added, "If you could-- you know, if you bump into Tomas and could ask him, I wouldn't mind if he came." It felt awkward to even ask and her insides told her she should just remain alone, but that was what got her into this in the first place. She needed to be done with that, or at least try to.

— ✿ ❀ ✿ —

"in case you throw up, please refrain from drinking for about fifteen minutes. Rinsing your mouth is fine, though. Try to eat light foods, nothing too hot, and as health as possible. Take your time to rest, Madi. I'll try and check up on your bees. From a distance." Nesh gifted her one last gentle smile, before collecting the utensils from the emergency kit he's brought. "If you happen to seize again, don't worry, it will pass. Just make sure to try and get me to come, yeah?" The man gently patted her head, then raised from the ground, took a deep breath and left the hut, just to go and look for Tomas.

— ✿ ❀ ✿ — — ✿ ❀ ✿ — — ✿ ❀ ✿ —

Madi was in a sleep so deep that Tomas couldn't wake her when he came in. But Nesh had assured him that Madi was past the worst of the danger, and after checking her himself Tomas found that the girl's sleep was restorative more than worrisome, so he passed the time in slowly and carefully giving her a sponge bath. Madi, he felt, had long since crossed the threshold of either of them being too precious about varying states of undress in front of each other, especially in a situation like this.

"Hey there," Tomas said, when she finally started to stir. "You're looking better." He adjusted on the stool he was sitting on, looking her over again, and then said, "--actually, you look terrible. Better put off competing in the Miss Mystery Island pageant this year."

Tomas passed his hand against Madi's forehead, brushing back her damp, sticking curls. "I brought coconut water. You should have some. It's the best thing to rehydrate you." He busied himself pouring the water out of the nut into a cup for her to manage more easily; it was chilled down, courtesy Emre's ice and Tomas' lingering sleety air attunement. Much nicer that way, and easier for her to swallow.

— ✿ ❀ ✿ —

Madi both felt better and not at the same time, so to hear that she looked better was-- yeah, that sounded strange, but Tomas quickly corrected himself. "Damn it, that was my dream all along. How will I-- you know, go on now, knowing I don't have a chance to compete this time?" at least her tired voice was just perfect for this deadpan delivery for the joke. And that did make her feel a bit better, waking up to Tomas joking with her.

She struggled, but after a bit she did manage to push herself up onto a sitting position. Her entire body felt like a bulldozer went through it, but hey, that was to be expected, right? She hoped so. "Hey," she finally greeted him and took the coconut water, "Thanks." She took a couple of sips, didn't dare take more before she knew how her stomach would handle it. "How-- how long have you been here? Hope you didn't have to wait too long while I slept."

— ✿ ❀ ✿ —

"Don't fuss," Tomas said, grumpily, when she started in with hoping he hadn't been there too long. "It's my time to spend however I damn well want. The doc was very delicate with giving me an update, by the way. I guess he's still going by doctor-patient confidentiality rules." Tomas gave Madi a tired, soft smile; an unusual expression for him, really.  "But we know better, don't we." He reached over, putting his hand around hers on the cup. "My poor girl. Been through the fuckin' wringer."

Tomas let his hand linger there for a moment before drawing in a breath and looking around, pointing at a covered plate. "Brown sugar arepas, and fried plantain, for when you need to eat something," he said, more briskly. "Easy to eat, sugar and salt, which you need. Were you hallucinating? Did you have any seizures? I'll bring you more food when you need it, we can build you back up depending on how much you can manage, but you should be able to keep it down if you're slow and steady."

— ✿ ❀ ✿ —

Madi just nodded at Tomas insisting that he wanted to spend his time as he pleased, and when he put his hands around her hands, she looked down for a long moment and then back to Tomas' face. "Your poor girl?"

Why didn't she say how she felt for so long, Alex asked. She was the dick for just expecting and assuming how others felt and now here she was needing the reassurance. And she did need the reassurance, but at least she'd say it now. "I wasn't-- wasn't sure for a while. I know you tried to help now, but before... I just thought that wasn't the case, I'm sorry."

She took a couple of more sips from the coconut water as Tomas talked about what else he brought. "I-- am not actually sure." Did she hallucinate, have seizures? She couldn't really remember much but then-- "I think so, yeah. Unless you're gonna tell me that my dad showed up here and tended to me while I was-- during it." And then she added, "thank you, for everything you brought and coming in general. Helping."

— ✿ ❀ ✿ —

For a moment, Tomas thought Madi's repeating his words was her objecting to the familiarity, and he was hanging on to see if he needed to walk that back when she went on to say that she hadn't been sure. If that was how he thought about her. "Madison," he said, as she sipped the coconut water and then thanked him, "I've always cared about you. From the very start. With everything that you brought to my farm, all of your -- your enthusiasm, and your dedication, and ..."

He stopped there, giving her a considering look. "You wanna know a secret?" Tomas said. "Emre's not my problem child. You are."

Leaving it there would only make her anxious, so he didn't pause before explaining: "I know him. I understand how he works, mostly, or at least in relation to me and our farm. When he fucks up or we disagree I get it, the fundamental elements of it. But you, sweetheart..." Tomas shook his head, that smile reappearing. "You turn me upside down, sometimes. You I don't get, even though we're probably more alike than Emre is to either of us. Who knows, maybe that's exactly why. But the ways you react to things, your personal moral code, I have to work at grasping how you see the world. And I haven't always been very kind about it."

— ✿ ❀ ✿ —

Everything Tomas was telling her felt like a rollercoaster ride - up and then down and then up. For a second, when he called her the problem child, Madi's stomach dropped, but then Tomas was quick to explain and it made more sense afterward, and definitely less scary, less negative. She didn't feel like she fully grasped it, but it also made sense.

"I-- I didn't think there was a problem child," was the first thing that came out of her, mostly because she didn't even know what to say to any of what Tomas just confessed. "Sorry, that isn't-- doesn't matter. I never thought anything about me was that complicated. Or I guess maybe that's why. I-- I'd like it if you understood me. If you wanted to. Even if it comes with unkind words sometimes, I can handle it. I know the precedent doesn't show that, but I-- I want to get better. About a lot of things."

She remained silent for a few moments, gently tapping at the cup with her fingertips, before she said, "I think I really want you to see me good, worthy. I-- I cannot really explain how, but I feel like in this regard, you are different from the others. You are just-- you are so effortlessly careless and helpful and kind while also sticking to your own sense of moral, and I just-- I really, really want you to think of me the best possible way you could, and when we didn't agree and argued, I automatically jumped to the other side, assuming the worst. No, not assuming, fearing it. I just didn't want you to think less of me, and I thought you did, so-- I'm sorry."

— ✿ ❀ ✿ —

Tomas rumbled a little when Madi said that she hadn't known about the way he saw them, but ultimately he didn't protest. Because what she was telling him was more important, and he nodded, saying, "I'm not all-knowing, Madi. I stumble too, when it comes to people whose ideas don't jive with mine in a way I'm comfortable I can understand -- but I want that. To work through this and start to recognize your patterns. Your -- bee-flight."

She lapsed into a silence, and Tomas got up and moved around for a few moments, tidying things pointlessly before drifting back to take his seat again as Madi continued. "I already see you as good, and worthy," Tomas protested, "but I can see how you wouldn't think so, or at least weren't convinced. I think our languages are different. So maybe I need to stress the positive with you some more. So you feel better about helping me see your point of view, and you feel less stressed when it comes to explaining things to me." He crinkled his nose. "Even if I'm a bear about it. Now you know that it doesn't mean I think less of you."

Picking up one of the soft cloths he'd brought, Tomas dipped it in a bowl of cool liquid and took Madi's free hand, wiping at the inside of her forearm with it. "Water with bay leaves and lime," he explained. "My mom used to like this. When she was sick. It kept her cool and the scent freshened things up a bit."

— ✿ ❀ ✿ —

"I know that, nobody is. I just-- I guess sometimes it's harder to notice those stumbles with certain people. Or maybe I didn't want to notice, I don't know anymore. But i'm trying-- well, saying I am trying to actively see the negatives feels weird, but I just-- I'm trying in general, I guess." Madi wanted to change her outlook on many things - be a bit more open, not shut herself off from people. It was plenty of steps too many on that regard, and it started with not doing that to those she was already close with.

"You're not a bear, I just-- it started when Emre-- when Suresh happened. We clashed and things... were said, and afterward I just-- I avoided you and then when we did speak, I just couldn't hear things anymore, or only as I wanted to." She needed a lot of time to think through this, pick apart interactions not with just Tomas, but with other people too, and realize all the ways she's been wrong.

Tomas started wiping at her forearm and she let out a long sigh of relief - it did feel good. "This is good.  Speaking of-- you told me so much personal things. About your mom, about you. And I just brushed them off. I am sorry. I should have seen it as you trying to reach, out, trying to help, instead of-- everything."

— ✿ ❀ ✿ —

Now it was Tomas' turn to be quiet for a while, as he kept soothing Madi's arm and then gestured for her to switch hands with the cup and give him the other arm. "Drink a little more," he said, and then more awkwardly in response to her apology, "It's fine."

But Tomas stopped, holding the cool, damp cloth in the crook of Madi's elbow. "No," he said, sounding a little peeved with himself, "actually, it's not. I'm not saying that to be mad at you, I understand why in the state you were in, you couldn't exactly extend any empathy, but -- it's not fine. It's not easy for me to tell people anything about myself, especially my childhood or ... being abused, or my mom being an alcoholic, or how she died. How ugly all of it was. And I need to break my own fear that nobody thinks these things that happened to me were important."

He blew a breath through his teeth, patting the cloth against Madi's arm and then dipping it in the bowl again, sitting closer to press it against her temples in turn. "There you go," Tomas said wryly, wiping her forehead. "I'm all messy and listening to bad internal messages too. So we better both start arguing down those shitty thoughts, huh."

— ✿ ❀ ✿ —

Madi took a couple of more sips and listened - it would have been so much easier if Tomas would have kept it all at "it's fine", but this was better, this was more honest and they needed that. Even if it was harder this way. "I really am sorry, both for how I reacted and that all of it had to happen to you and you had to experience that. I don't want to-- I don't want this to be the reason why in the future you'd decide not to share with me, either about this, or about anything else."

She leaned into his hand a bit as he pressed the cloth against her temple, closing her eyes and breathing in deeply. "Yeah, we better start. We can-- you know, help each other. If we see the other doing their thing, we can have some kind of secret code or something, just a little check in that nobody else would understand but the two of us? Something like, I don't know, the papayas are not ripe enough or something. Some farm talk so people wouldn't question it either."

— ✿ ❀ ✿ —

Tomas snorted at Madi's proposed code, saying, "No, no, that's got too high a probability of somebody asking follow-up questions or giving us advice on how to force-ripen a papaya. Did I tell you when I was a kid what we called them was pawpaws? Saying papaya feels weird to me. But there's a fruit that grows in Kentucky that's also called a pawpaw. I suppose if you know them both it would get confusing."

This wasn't much of a pressing concern and Tomas knew it, but it felt good to ramble on about nonsense for a minute while he recalibrated. "I'll buzz you," he decided. "And you buzz me. That's all, bzzt. Short and sweet and people will just think we like imitating bees. Or buzzers."

He replayed that in his head and took her hand, guiding the cup to his own mouth for a sip of the coconut water. "Could be I'm a little dehydrated myself," Tomas huffed, letting her have it back. He wiped his face with the saturated cloth before dropping it into the bowl and leaning forward, elbows on his knees, one hand against Madi's thigh. "I'm glad to see you getting on top of this thing, peach," he said. "It hasn't felt right. You and Emre both unbalanced and out-of-sorts. I want us -- I want us all to heal."

— ✿ ❀ ✿ —

Pawpaws and papayas - something Madi never would have guessed they would talk about during the conversation, but it felt like a nice little respite, and when he gave her his idea, she let out a small, tired chuckle. "Bzzt. Yeah, I can work with that. That could be easy."

She gave him a smile, nodded. "I want us to heal too. I want us to be able to go back to-- well, maybe going back to how things were isn't going to be possible, not after everything, but maybe something similar. Or something better even, if it's possible." She hoped it would be - she would work as much as she possibly  could to have it back.

FINISHED.

[tea-with-evan-and-me]

Have you seen the video where EmR was arguing with Ev? It was during a comic con event and someone was secretly filming them. I don't know the context of the fight but you can see how patient Ev is with her. He was remaining calm and was trying his best to work towards peace and comforting her and calming her down. He was nervously laughing things off because she just kept going and you could tell he's not a confrontional personal. After a while, the security guard actually had to escort him safely from her. Imagine if that has to happen. You could tell from his face that he was tired of the situation and just didn't know what to do. That video makes it clear that he's not the kind of person that gets agressive. He was being selfless and understanding and was trying to make the relationship work.

YES that video is so telling of their relationship dynamic. even after it was obvious people were watching and filming emma didn’t stop throwing her tantrum. evan is just trying to diffuse the situation while she spirals and more people step in.

i’m working right now but if anyone wants to see the video anon is referencing just google emma roberts comic con crying and there’s tons of links and photos lol she’s a whole mess

[intothevnkncwn]

welcome to marina, emre kayacan ( he/him ) ! they are a thirty four year old who has lived on the island for five years. word on the street is they’re currently living in hyland park and works as a history professor. everyone also says they look a lot like serkan cayoglu. what do you think?

Biography:

One of the four Kayacan kids. Emre has a brother (TBD) and two sisters, Alara and Hazal. He's a certified peacemaker, extremely patient and unfortunately cursed with the inability to say no to his siblings' whims.

Always loved history from a young age, he can memorize dates and timelines like nobody's business. His more particular interests surround architecture, but please don't ask him the Roman Empire question from TikTok. He's so tired.

Married his college sweetheart which was super cute until it wasn't. After half a decade, his wife grew tired from their easy lifestyle and wanted something more exciting, she would bring up questions about whether they settled down too soon.

She dropped a few quips about opening their marriage which, needless to say, Emre was not receptive about. Monogamy is sort of his game and he was blindly happy until that point, which in retrospect was a personal fault since he couldn't spot her growing distant.

She up and left six years ago, cleaned out half their savings and ran off to be with her affair partner; some wealthy real estate mogul who promised to show her the world. Though he was absolutely crushed, Emre didn't contest anything and since she let him keep the house and car with no alimony, he considered himself lucky.

Cue Captain America pulling up a chair: so you got divorced, huh?

Fresh starts are good, or so he hears. Taking a job at Marina University appeared like some blessing in disguise since it would allow him close proximity to his siblings and a blank slate. Not that he wanted to start over, but you take what you can get. Life just looks far different than he imagined.

He's been teaching at the university for 5 years now and lives in a modest house, keeps to himself, listens to jazz records, the usual. Kindness comes easy to Emre, but now so does a wary sort of trust.

Connections:

TBD!

[silvertonqued]

♡     ◞ ⠀⠀⠀⠀serkan cayoglu.   thirty-seven.   cis man.   he/him.⠀ —    hold your f*** horses !   emre kilic   has just been spotted walking into revolution headquarters. they are best known for being the label’s resident   senior pr manager   and have been working with the label for   eight years.    they share a lot of interesting things about life in the music industry on their social media, so make sure you don’t forget to follow them at   @emrekilic.  the office knows them for being   austere   but i swear they’ve got a   altruistic   side as well. maybe that explains why they’re always associated with   magnets pinning children’s drawings and to do lists to the fridge door, muted sounds of typing long after works hours have ended, always cleaning up other people’s messes.   their coworkers even voted them most likely to   leave your text messages on read.   we’ll see how they live up to that reputation.

♡     ◞        statistics.

full  name:  emre kilic. nickname:  doesn’t respond (well) to any nicknames. date  of  birth:  january 6th, 1986 (37 yrs). zodiac  sign:  capricorn. place  of  birth:  manchester, united kingdom. current  location:  new york city, new york. gender:  cis man, uses he / him pronouns. sexuality:  bisexual. languages:  english (native), turkish (native).

♡     ◞        bits and bops.

character  tropes:  the tenacious, the workaholic, the catalyst, the savant. traits:  austere, meticulous, altruistic, conscientious, grumpy, dependable, nurturing, overcritical, reticent, ambitious, family-oriented, finicky. habits:  rubbing at his chin when deep in thought, believing he always knows what’s best, only drinking his morning coffee out of the  best dad  mug he got from his daughter on father’s day, always dressing a bit too nice for the occasion, leaving the office last, overly organizing his work with post it notes and folders, keeping his email inbox at zero unread emails at the end of every work day, going for a sunday morning runs with his dog. likes:  spending time with his daughter, the smell of fresh laundry, honesty, the feeling of success, nicely organized desk spaces, the taste of a strong espresso in the morning, football, well-fitted suits, comfortable silences, family, long hikes before sunrise, rock climbing and bouldering, whiskey on the rocks, cuddles on the couch, routine, seventies music played on vinyl, reading the newspaper, nature documentaries, meal prepping, private displays of affection. dislikes:  small confined spaces, public transport in the city, social media, cluttered spaces, fickle people, surprises, people who lie by omission, his ex, horror movies, crinkled buttoned shirts, cereal as breakfast, bubblegum, being late or others being late, elevators, losing control of a situation, patterned socks. notable  skills:  exceptional memory, reading people, repairing things around the house, ambidexterity.

♡     ◞        background.

born and raised in manchester, england. emre is the eldest child of the family  &  only man of the bunch, growing up with three younger sisters respectively named gamze, bahar and beyza. one can only imagine how that must’ve been   —    surrounded by bustling sounds of three squabbling sisters, who seemed to go from loving to hating each other as well as emre in the span of mere minutes sometimes. but if their parents taught them one thing, it would have been the importance of family. of sticking by the people you love unconditionally, supporting them through each of their ventures, and forgiving and forgetting the minor disputes. as you would presume, growing up with three sisters brought out a particularly overbearing side of emre   —   he has always been endlessly protective of all three of them, maybe a little too protective for their own good sometimes. he was looking out for them even when they didn’t particularly need it. but equally being the first person to stand in their corner, to solve the problems they couldn’t oversee themselves, to make sure no harm would come to them. even when it came to deceiving their own parents if one of them managed to ruin the living room carpet by spilling their drink or failing an important exam in school. admittedly, he has a specific soft spot for his youngest sister who really can’t do any wrong in his eyes. growing up, he naturally grew into the big brother role within every aspect of his life. independent but dependable, never needing anything but always being there if someone else needed something. like working his first part time jobs  &  buying his sisters back to school supplies or a new outfit for their first day back to school out of pocket. but it equally translated to every single other part of his life. he was easily the most natural candidate for captain of his local football team, often finding himself naturally taking on too much responsibility for the wellbeing of friends, family and even strangers alike. and god knows how many times he got roped into other people’s bad ideas, much to his own dismay, all of them knowing if there was one person who knew the right excuse to get them out of the ensuing mess, it would have been emre. perhaps partially thanks to easily trusted big brown eyes as well. knowing how to clean up other people’s messes so particularly well, it is no surprise how he ended up choosing to pursue a joint degree in marketing  &  communications and found himself gravitating towards the field of public relations. upon graduating college, he bagged himself a job working in marketing for the manchester department of the bbc where he climbed the corporate ladder for six years   —   until he grew tired of it. desperately needing a change of pace, it seemed as if a job offer from revolution records appeared at exactly the right time. it was a referral from an old classmate that led the record label to him specifically, in dire need of a public relations agent able to start within the coming month. the only thing holding him back was the idea of moving across the atlantic. after all, family was the most important thing  &  the idea of leaving behind three younger sisters, on the brink of adulthood and seemingly unable to take care of themselves in the eyes of their older brother, was a concerning thought. but with some convincing, he did end up taking the offer, packing his bags and moving to new york city within the span of a month. new york city was not just the change of pace he was looking for, but an entire overhaul to his life. having never truly been alone in a place so unfamiliar to him, life in the city  &  working at revolution needed time to start feeling natural. what perhaps contributed to this idea of an overhaul of life, was the blossoming relationship between him and a coworker not long after his move, eventually leading to an unexpected pregnancy  &  the birth of his now five year old daughter ayla. becoming a father had not been in the cards for the foreseeable future, but he would no longer change a single thing about the course of events. to say he dotes on her even more than he did his younger sisters is an understatement. complicating the experience is the rocky relationship with the mother of his child, as the end of the relationship left the dynamic between them rather sour. the two are coparenting and attempt to stay civil for the sake of their daughter, but it is questionable whether they can put aside their own selfish feelings forever.

♡     ◞        personality.

has a bit of a reputation for being grumpy   —   and fairly so, if we are honest with ourselves. not the biggest ray of sunshine, seemingly has a permanent frown plastered onto his face  &  is more than a little uptight. he always means well but deals with the stupidity of way too many people on a daily basis. huge problem solver, and is very meticulous in the way he approaches things in life. pays excessive attention to detail, always plans ahead, and rarely gets surprised. admittedly, this applies not only to his job but equally to every other problem that presents itself to him, from existential crises to a broken dishwasher. there is probably way too many to do lists pinned to his fridge door, probably has one of those planners for to do lists and grocery store shopping lists and whatnot in the house. holds himself to very high standards in life, but equally lets that impact the standards he often enforces on others. he’s often critical of himself but also the work others do, how they present himself, or how they treat him. one of the standards and values he holds very dear is openness and honesty   —   he always vouches to be as forthright as he is allowed to be, and dishonesty or not telling the full story will really impact how he feels about you and the respect he has for you. after all, he’s willing to stick his foot out for anyone and he feels the bare minimum he deserves in return is honesty. this is also a big policy he applies at work, doesn’t appreciate artists holding back when he is trying to put out their fires  &  that particular situation has often been the cause of friction, and earning him a reputation of being particularly stern and rigid. but no one can deny he does his job well. slightly surprisingly to those that do not know him well, he is really nurturing  &  often finds himself wanting to care for those around him. anyone that reminds him of his younger sisters has him returning straight to the overbearing older brother figure. he is also quite affectionate especially with his daughter, but also with close friends and other family. often puts his own needs aside for others he cares about, and does so willingly and without second thought. most important of all, has a dog   —   she’s a now two year old rottweiler going by the name  bean  and she’s the most adorable thing. basically his best friend, keeps him company on the quiet nights when his daughter is with her mother  &  his go to partner for morning runs every single sunday. and he will bring her around the office quite regularly, so if anyone wants to hang out with her they’re always more than welcome. her love and friendship can be bought with treats  &  basically any and all kinds of food.

♡     ◞        plots.  

i would put ideas here but my head is empty it is 2:30 in the morning so we’ll just brainstorm and plot and i will put any thoughts into our dms  <3