#paper plate machine contact number
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Ooooo Christmas fic from Factorial :0 I love your writing so much!! How about one from one of your Ordem AUs? I really like your post-opc with Johnny and Rubens, but any of the others (xcom, opd/opc fix-it, maybe even that steampunk one you were poking at a while back) are also good. Thank you and Merry Crimmus friend!! Go nuts!! <33
Merry Christmas Curly!!! You do not have post-opc au, you have a special treat... (likely never to be continued steampunk au)
And to everyone else, a wodnerful holiday season to you all.
Please find the ao3 link here is you so prefer: [link]
Mild body horror, but if you can handle ordem canon you should be fine. No spoilers, it's too au for that!
This is the furthest into one of his father's factories that Thiago has been in a long time. Long gone are the great thick safety rails and brass plating, replaced with burning pipes and skin-meltingly hot steam exhausts. The machines used here before were dangerous, yes, but nothing next to the ghost tech now installed. Even Thiago knew ghost tech was dangerous when his father vanished a decade ago; whoever stole his inheritance clearly has no such concerns, not when factory accidents now make the everyday news.
It is Thiago who writes that news, of course. The Gazette is not the most sophisticated of papers, but it is one that allows him the freedom to investigate such accidents. Explosions, burns, loom teeth catching on long skirts... he has seen much, and written it all. Even choking slightly on the cotton dust in the air after yesterday's work Thiago keeps looking; the lack of cleaning plus the exposed boil-vents is reason enough to slam the company, but only page seven news really.
What he hasn't seen, though, is a factory like this one; he had managed to convince the foreman to give him the key, between a silver tongue, a shared and genuine concern for the workers' safety after a number of disappearances, and a the insinuation that he was sleeping with the man's wife. And now he is inside...
The other bits are just factory, but it's in jimmying open a door and getting towards the machine rooms that he finds it.
The true meaning of ghost tech.
Pulsating walls, steam churning like blood, a hulking mass of wire and brass and steam... There's blood all around, and lumps of flesh mixed with the pipework. If it is human or not... Well, he prefers not to think about where those missing workers went.
He also has no idea as to if this monstrosity itself can be considered alive or not; careful of making noise, he grabs a pencil and paper, and begins to draw.
His sketches are nothing special, but they can be used as references for the stamp cutter. Chip here, gap there, move it all about...
He's nearly done when a gloved hand covers his mouth and pulls him closer.
Looking up... a woman, smartly dressed in green-trimmed black. The lace from her hat covers only the left side of her face, a cloth mask covers the lower half, and the edge of a cage-crinoline is pressed against the back of his legs. It's somewhat out of date, most women now preferring the half-hooped crinolette if not the recently developed bustle.
... Maybe Thiago should be paying more attention to his surroundings, and less to his colleagues working on the fashion rags.
Still, with a hand over his throat, there is not much Thiago can do but attempt to make eye contact.
It is very much failing, the woman's one visible eye is trailing over the abomination before them.
"I suggest," she whispers, bite in her tone. "Leaving very carefully and quietly."
Her hand shifts, and Thiago gains space to speak.
"Unfortunately, dear lady, I am here on business, and I am not quite finished yet."
He keeps his voice low, not wanting to draw attention if that thing can hear.
She glances at his sketch, then at him. Pauses a moment, and then…
"Oh, about the explosion?" She asks.
"Explosion?"
What explosion?
"Hm," her eyes run over the abomination again. "The one that will happen in around five minutes. A terrible shame about the use of fire boilers in an uncleaned textile mill."
"Ma'am, that is not a boiler."
"As a member of the Special Investigations Unit," she flashes a badge too quickly to see, then hides it again; there is no way that is a legitimate police unit, Thiago had been studying those extensively before taking to trespassing. "That is all that you know."
"But you know more, don't you?" He presses a little. "These were my father's factories, you know? The Infinite Production Conglomerate stole them during probate."
That seems to catch her attention.
"You're a Fritz?" she asks.
"Thiago," he replies, following her gaze to watch the monster.
The hand leaves his face entirely, reaching instead into a pocket of her skirt. She leans to one side as she does - it must be a large pocket - before pulling out... Some form of gun.
"Elizabeth," she tells him, as though there were fewer than six Elizabeth's working in his department alone. "Now, I am going to see that this monstrosity finds its way to hell. I highly suggest leaving."
Thiago does not know what sort of gun this Miss Elizabeth is holding, but he does know what happens if you combine even a slight flame in a textile factory this poorly maintained.
And he enjoys having skin.
"Alright," he whispers back. "There's an open door just across the factory floor."
"Lockpick?"
"Foreman knows me. He lent me the key."
"Hm," she considers a little. "Alright, your way; I don't want to climb back through the window."
She got in through a window? In that dress?
Thiago would say he is impressed, but flabbergasted would be a more accurate term.
"Of course, my dear Miss Elizabeth," he offers a hand. "Shall we?"
She ignores the hand, and starts crossing the floor.
Thiago quickly finishes up his sketch, and follows after her.
Now that he has seen it, he can hear the squelching of the abomination echoing in the pipes...
He tries not to think about that.
They make it outside without incident, and Thiago finds the guards he snuck around collapsed on the floor. There is no smell of blood, so he likes to think of them as merely drugged unconscious.
It is dark, he cannot see details, he can be forgiven.
Also, Miss Elizabeth does not drag the bodies into the factory, which anyone sensible would do with corpses before demanding a cover-up from a reporter of dubious repute, so they are probably clear of murder charges.
"Permission to explode your possessed factory, Mister Fritz?"
"Of course, Miss Elizabeth; I do think such things an insult to my father's legacy, after all."
She does not say more before snapping open her strange gun. She adds not a bullet but a canister to it, before flipping it closed and pointing it at the broken window.
And then she fires.
No projectile he recognises comes from the gun, but instead a small burning leading a trail of red smoke.
It enters the window.
Miss Elizabeth grabs Thiago by the arm, and pulls him to the ground.
It does not even take a second for the cotton dust to ignite, the entire factory quickly developing into a blazing ball of soon-to-be-ash.
Miss Elizabeth keeps him low for a while - long enough for the shrapnel and spitting fireballs to pass - before carefully getting to her feet.
"A pleasure doing business with you, Miss Elizabeth," he tells her, as he also struggles up.
"I must bid you farewell; I have a telegram to send," she dusts off her dress, and corrects the tilt of her hat. "I suggest leaving; pray we do not meet again, Mister Fritz. You have no business here."
She does not wait for an answer before returning the strange gun to her skirts, and begins sprinting down the road, in the opposite direction to the bell of the approaching fire cart.
What a strange woman, Thiago thinks, even as he, too, sprints off at ninety degrees to them both.
#ask and answer#ordem paranormal#aop#aop fanfic#op fanfic#alternate universe - steampunk with magitech#lovely plot
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I Am From
I am from the culture of the crashing waves against the jagged rocks of the shore, while churches sing their songs.
As well as from the culture of ancient prayers echoing among the sun-soaked streets and the hum from bustling bazaars.
The cultures which intertwine so effortlessly, yet mangle each other like a thorn drawing against the skin.
From my father who is strong and determined, scars covering his brown-skinned body, telling the stories of his childhood on the island.
From my mother, who is gentle and caring, scars that veil her damaged heart, telling the tales of her Islamic upbringing.
I am from a home where love overpowers all, no matter the sound of shattering plates, slamming doors, and yelling echoing down the hall.
Where food means forgiveness, whether the savory steak or the mouth-watering chocolate cake.
I am from the prolonged nights on the road in the mountains; the soaring heights that made my stomach churn any time we neared the edge.
The sharp, distinct smell of wet evergreen trees, bark, and mud filling the cramped car with the windows down.
I am from a sweet yet pungent smell of gasoline that would overwhelm the nose at every stop.
From the lingering lysol mixed with urine in the bathrooms, where the toilet lids were fragile and damaged.
And from the foggy, clouded mirrors that were marked with streaks from harsh scrubbing, that no amount of Windex could fix.
I am from the meals of Subway and gas station sandwiches. The crispy lettuce that was no longer crunchy, but soggy and tough to chew.
I am from the crumbs of chips flooding the car seats nestled underneath the plastic bags and wrinkled up saran wrap.
The frigid air swarming the car as soon as the windows creaked downwards,
The soft yet rugged blanket I kept with me, covering my small body,
The body growing with every move we made.
I am from the crowded hallways where laughter and voices echoed through corridors.
Where people migrated in flocks, like birds swarming the vibrant blue sky above the school.
I am from the irritating ringing, not to dismiss us, but to remind the teachers.
I am from the sleek, smooth papers that were textured with tiny ink letters.
From classrooms engulfed with deodorant far too rancid to rid their body odor,
And the perfumes where the alcohol overburdened the fruity scent.
From the giggling and snorting amongst friends at the circular tables,
To the salty, stingy tears and quiet sobs that reminisce the quiet winds in the woods.
From the sugary fruits we would pass around after hours of our stomach rumbling like a broken machine.
To the crammed gymnasiums where athletes and parents alike would flood the moments the doors open.
The early mornings where our bare skin made contact with the chilled basketball court.
From the numbers that flash a watermelon green, guaranteeing us our spot to wrestle.
To the moment our shoes step onto the mat, the whistles blowing and coaches screaming,
To the teammates cheering on the mat, celebrating a win
From the mixture of the tangy sweat and tears that drip down our bruised and damaged bodies,
From the wins and losses that weigh heavy on our heart, like a boulder crushing against our chest.
The lessons that we learn through discipline and hard work, to the family we have through bonds not blood.
I am from a place of love.
Where home was not a structure held by wood and nails but rather the relationships we built.
The branches of genetics and connection rather than the materialistic buildings.
I am from a place where holidays were not needed to spend time together.
A place where the houses and parks were filled with howling and chuckling of childrens and adults alike.
Where the aroma was filled with a citrusy spice, hot like the grill's flame.
Our relationships intertwined like the baskets we weave from the leaves from the trees.
From a culture where respect was a given not a privilege,
The aunts and uncles who were merely childhood friends,
Those aunties who wore flashy gold jewelry that clanked against each other each time they wave their hands,
To uncles who wore their colorful i’e because they couldn’t fathom wearing pants at home.
Where passing by an elder prompted a quiet “Tulou” as you bowed whilst walking,
A place where names like “sosisi” and “valea” were terms of endearment rather than insults.
A place where love can spread thousands of miles, across the powerful ocean.
From a place where our family is our pride, and our pride determines our family.
#poem#poetry#poems and quotes#literacy#writing#writerscommunity#writers on tumblr#writers and poets#reading#self love#self care#fanfic
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The Starline Heist
“Hand me the halfdiamond,” said Ebby.
Nik pulled the pick from the small pouch and handed it to him, “One of these day’s you’re gonna have to show me how you do it.”
“Fat chance,” grunted Ebby, “Damn, didn’t anyone teach these idiots how to oil a lock, I’m surprised this thing hasn’t seized up on them yet.”
“They probably think it’s safer for it to stick a little.”
“Give me a hammer and I’d have this thing off in too whacks, it’s rusted right through I tell ya.”
“Too loud,” sighed Nik, “It’s a nice idea though, I wouldn’t mind taking a hammer or maybe even a torch to this building.”
“We’ll torch them in court once we get those papers. Ahha, got it,” Ebby crackled with glee as the lock popped loose, “Your turn Niki old pal!”
Nik gently pried the front plate off the badge reader and looked at the tangle of wires inside, “Hmmm, I see why they used a physical lock, the print scanner on this thing is fried, anyone with a badge and code could just waltz right in.”
Ebby grinned, “Don’t suppose you have the badge and code do you?”
“Not yet actually, my contact wanted an exorbitant amount for them.” Nik fiddled with the wires, “that ought to work,” they held up a pair of white cards to the reader, “here,” they handed one to Ebby, “should get you through most doors.”
Nik quickly punched in a fake code, “one, two, three, four. Think you can remember that old man?”
Ebby shoved the card in his shirt pocket, “I got your number all right Niki boy, got a cloak for me?”
Nik pulled two lengths of fabric from their backpack, “here ya go, make sure not to stand still for too long or the AI will pick up on it.”
They each ducked under their own cloaks, adjusting them to ensure everything was well hidden.
“Here we go,” Nik opened the door and the two quickly slipped inside.
The hall lights blinked on, “crap,” muttered Ebby.
“Hush, they’re old laser-style motion sensors, if the AI had seen us the alarms would already be blaring, so lets move quick.”
They headed down the hallway past several doors before Nik stopped, “here it is, Security Operations Center. Should be able to get everything we need from here.”
“That looks like a retina scanner,” Ebby said doubtfully.
Nik slowly pried the scanner away from the wall, “I can bypass it, it’s an older model…” they fell silent as they carefully rewired the machines' innards. “Try badging in now.”
The door obediently unlocked as Ebby tapped his badge on the small reader and typed in the simple code.
The security center was lined with several rows of desks and even more rows of clear glass monitors.
“Place is like a ghost town,” Ebby muttered as the automatic light’s switched on, “How’d you get em all out of here at the same time?”
“Corporate Christmas party, just worked a little magic on who was scheduled to go and who wasn’t, simple really.”
“It’s all easy for you ain’t it kid,” Ebby was rifling through paper and checking in unlocked drawers, “you think you got it made. Just don’t go getting too cocky, that’s how you end up with a prison sentence longer than the ride to Pluto.”
“I’m sure you’ll keep me in line ol’ man.” Nick smiled. They had slid into a chair and plugged in a small device to the computer there, “Any luck finding the keys?”
“Starting to wonder if I’ll even need them, don’t think anyone taught these boys basic security,” Ebby strode over and dropped a small sticky note in front of Nik, “I believe you owe me a drink though.”
Nik rolled his eyes at the small piece of paper but diligently typed in the username and password written on it, “I’m in,” they grumbled and unplugged the small machine. “People always take all the fun out of hacking.”
Ebby laughed, “somethings never change. They’ll come up with a way to pull the password straight from your mind and people will still be writing them down and hiding them under keyboards.”
“They could atleast invent an invisibility cloak small enough to hide em with.”
“Sounds like a great idea, just hope it doesn’t fritz out the first time you look at it wrong.”
“They’ve come a long way, heard they’ve deployed some back on Earth that are almost entirely silent.”
Ebby gave a disbelieving grunt and went back to digging through drawers, pulling out his lockpicks as needed.
“Got us registered with the AI, it shouldn’t sound any alarms now,“ Nik shrugged off the static cloak and looked around for any flashing lights.
“Don’t suppose you set the camera’s on a loop to did ya?” Ebby asked.
Nik gave him a withering look and Ebby reluctantly slid down the hood of his cloak.
“You can never be too careful, alright.”
“How about you let me do my job and you do your’s, unless you’ve already found those keys?”
“Bah, they’ll be in the last drawer I open, that’s how that always works.”
The two worked in silence for several minutes, interrupted only by Nik’s occasional curses as the computer failed to let them into one program or another.
“Got em,” Ebby said, dusting off his knees as he stood up, “I’m getting too old for this sort of thing.”
“Find us another job as good as this and you’ll have enough money to retire.”
Ebby chuckled, “it’ll be here sooner than you think, Nik. Ready to go get those papers?”
“I’m elevating the access for that badge, tap it here,” Nik motioned to a small card reader, “alright you should be good to go.”
“You’re not coming along?”
“Shouldn’t need me and I’d like to take a poke around their datacenter.”
“Be careful.”
“You too ol’ man, remember these papers aren’t worth getting killed over.”
Ebby nodded and slipped back under his static cloak before heading out into the hall. Once Nik had confirmed that no alarms were going to go off they headed over to the one other door in the room.
“Hello, Beautiful,” they said as they badged in and opened the heavy steel door. Heat and noise blasted forth from the cluttered room, “Oh…, Well that explains the slow connections.” The room was filled with two rows of ceiling height metal server racks connected by a jungle of cables and cords.
Nik pulled out their laptop and stepped gingerly through the mess of wires, pausing occasionally to plug a tiny device into an open port.
“Ahah, now you might have something useful,” Nik followed the cables from one server until they found an empty line and plugged it into their laptop, “username and password? Let’s just pretend I’m the admin why don’t we? And we’re in, really, it’s too easy.”
Nik tapped away at the keyboard for several minutes, mumbling to themselves about poor security practices. “It really isn’t my fault they just left the back door wide open is it? Ooo, what’s this file? Oh.”
Nik sat down hard on the ground.
The door to the security room clicked shut, “You almost done in there?” called Ebby, he poked his head into the server room, “you alright Nik? Look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
“Fine,” Nik stuttered, “just found some real interesting data.”
“Oh?”
“Yeah, I’ll, um, show you later, Eb.”
Ebby eyed him curiously, “How much longer you need?”
Nik nodded, “ I just gotta get this stuff downloaded, should only take a few minutes. You go ahead though, I’ll meet you at the usual spot.”
“We’ve done a lot of good work together, yeah Nik?”
Nik hummed their agreement.
“Well I’ll see ya in a bit yeah?” Ebby hesistated, “Don’t wait to long, Nik, I’ve got a bad feeling.”
“Me too.”
Nik slammed the laptop shut and shoved it into their bag as soon as they heard the security center door close.
“What’s your game ol’man?” they muttered to themselves as they weaved back out through the jungle of cables. They gave a cursory glance at the security monitors to make sure that the coast was clear and then strode out into the hall.
Nik, stopped. The exit at the end of the hall was open, and just on the other side, lit by the wavering light of a streetlamp was the slumped over body of Ebby. “Shit”
The light outside shifted.
A shiver ran up Nik’s spine as the gentle click of the door closing was drowned out by the loud thud of heavy machinery. Their eyes darted around the hall, trying to make out the slight shimmer in the air made by the invisibility suit.
“Stay calm,” they muttered to themselves, trying to fight down the urge to turn and run, “you need a plan.”
There was a loud click, as of a gun loading.
Nik dove back into the security room just in time to avoid the gunfire. They shoved one of the light weight desks against the door.
“Shit, think, Ebby told you all about these damn machines.”
Nik looked hopelessly around the room for anything of use. The machine thudded slowly down the hall.
“What was it he always said about the older machines? You could hear them coming a mile away? Great yeah, well I figured that out on my own.”
Nik backed away from the door till they reached the datacenter. They grabbed the handle and cursed as it sparked. “These guys are gonna fry their machines.” Nik stared at the handle, tentatively reaching out to touch it again, this time without the spark.
A loud thud outside the door was all the urging Nik needed to put their half formed plan into action. As their pursuer tried to bash open the locked door Nik yanked a pair of cables haphazardly out of servers and drug them out into the security center. They did their best to toss them onto either side of the entrance. As the door crashed open in a burst of splinters Nik shoved the ends of the cables into a power bank and dove behind a set of desks.
Nik held their breath, the suit whirred and clicked as it looked around the room.
“Think you can hide?” said a distorted voice, “think you can outrun me?”
There was a thud as the suit stepped inside the room. Nik glanced over at the gray wall panel by the door.
“If you come out now I’ll make your death quick, just like I did for your partner.”
There was a crash as a desk was lifted up and tossed across the room.
“I gotta say you got balls, trying to steal from Starline, I respect that, I really do.”
Nik scrambled out of the way as one of the desks came crashing down on their hiding spot. They could see the wavering light of the invisibility suit only a few yards away.
“Ah there you are”
They carefully stood, their legs shaking, “Why'd you kill the ol’man? It was a good setup. A fake heist. Starline gets the reward for catching another hacker. Somehow I don’t think getting murdered is part of the deal that ol’ Ebenezer struck.”
The disembodied voice laughed, “He said you were smart. But thats the problem with you smart types, always get too cocky for your own good. You’re so easy to fool.”
Nick tried to put desks between them and the machine, slowly inching back towards the door.
“You see I figure that catching both of you will be worth twice the reward. If he'd of had half the brains you do he’d of seen that and backed out on the whole heist.”
Nick bumped into the wall, their hand flung out to a small panel and popped it open. There was a click as the machine's gun reloaded.
“You see the problem with you smart types is sometimes you're too smart for your own good”
Nick flung open the breaker box and flipped the switches, power crackled through the cables and arced up along the invisibility suit lighting it up in a flash of blinding light.
There was a loud pop as the fuses blew and then silence fell on the now dark room. Nik blinked away the after image.
“You forget that older models of invisibility suits were terribly unreliable. Turns out they’re incredibly difficult to insulate against electricity.”
The back out power kicked on, lighting the room in a somber red. They looked over the large multifaceted machine, it looked more like a misshaped disco ball than the cutting edge of technology.
Nik carefully edged out of the room, looking keenly down the hall for any other potential ambushes. Outside Ebby was slumped in a puddle of his own blood.
“It’s really a shame ol’ man, I liked working with you. I really did.” Nik rolled the corpse over and fished in the pockets till he found the set of lock picks and a tattered wallet, “I guess you’ll be the one buying this round of drinks after all.”
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Article Review - Do Bacteria Mutate Intentionally Or Randomly?
I read this interesting article yesterday and would like to provide a concise summary of what I learned from it:
1. In the 1940s, the scientists Salvador Luria and Max Delbrück conducted an experiment to show that bacteria mutated spontaneously that won a Nobel Prize in 1969. Their findings have been consistently used to explain that bacteria can develop resistance to antibiotics/drugs that have not been developed yet.
2. The phenomenon that had led to the scientists’ venture is then introduced. When bacteria are living in a nutrient broth, it appears to be cloudy due to the abundance of colonies present. Introducing phages (viruses that kill bacteria) makes the broth clear as many bacteria are killed off. Maintaining optimal conditions for growth after that returns the cloudy appearance from earlier. Is this because the bacteria developed resistance to the phage after encountering it or because of a random resistant variant proliferating?
3. Luria conducted an experiment with a few tubes containing nutrient broths which had E.coli bacteria added to them to grow. Then, he transferred the bacteria to dishes containing phages. If bacteria only develop resistance to phages after exposure, then all the dishes would have colonies of bacteria from the rare bacteria that spawned resistant variants when transferred to the dish. The rest of the bacteria would die. None of the bacteria should have mutations. However, if they are resistant regardless of exposure (that is, they mutate randomly), most plates should have none or very few mutant colonies while a few should have large colonies. The difference in the number of colonies depends on which bacteria mutated in earlier generations to be phage-resistant while dividing. It is harder to see large colonies as during initial contact with the phages, less bacteria are available that can mutate (since it is a random occurrence). It’s like a slot machine — most times you get no/minimal rewards while there is that one lucky occurrence where you win a big prize. Luria’s experiment reflected this analogy and hence, answered the scientists’ question: Mutation in bacteria is random.
4. Luria then worked with Delbrück to verify his work and they then wrote papers about the findings. Other scientists modified the experiment conditions and derived similar results. The conclusion of this article is that bacteria has survived across time due to this ability to mutate spontaneously without prior exposure to things that could kill them. This is why drug resistance is still a challenge in medicine — bacteria could be prepared for even the most futuristic pills!
In conclusion, this was a good recap of an interesting time in the history of science. Everyone should read it — medicine is a universal topic!
Disclaimer: This is purely a concise reflection on the points presented in the article. These are not my opinions at all. I am only posting knowledge.
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Double Die Paper Plate And Dona Plate Machine in Delhi
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Paper Plate Making Machine in Varanasi: Streamline your Business with Dona Plate Making Machine
Are you looking to enhance efficiency in your business by investing in a paper plate making machine in Varanasi? Contact Laghu Udyog, as we dive into the world of Dona plate making machines and how we can revolutionize your production process.
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When looking to purchase a Dona plate making machine in Varanasi, there are a few factors to consider ensuring you make the right choice for your business:
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Once you have chosen the right Dona plate making machine for your business, it's time to set it up for optimal performance. Follow these steps to get started:
Read the instruction manual carefully to understand the operation and maintenance requirements of the machine.
Place the machine in a clean and well-ventilated area with access to power sources and water supply if required.
Ensure all safety precautions are in place, such as wearing protective gear and following proper operating procedures.
Test the machine with a small batch of raw materials to check for any issues and make adjustments as needed.
Conclusion In conclusion, investing in a Dona plate making machine in Varanasi can be a game-changer for your business, allowing you to produce high-quality disposable plates efficiently and cost-effectively. With the right machine and proper setup, you can streamline your production process and meet the demands of your customers with ease. So why wait? Take your business to the next level with a Dona plate making machine today with Laghu Udyog in Varanasi.
#Paper plate making machine#business#manufacturer#Dona plate making machine#paper plate machine in Varanasi
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Precision processing: Advanced sheet metal and manufacturing technology
Precision processing: Advanced sheet metal and manufacturing technology
The importance of sheet metal processing in the modern manufacturing is to fill the gap between designs and objects. The paper will explore technical features, process flow and industry development trends of sheet metal fabrication to give readers a deeper understanding on this field.Get more news about sheet metal fabrication,you can vist our website!
Technical characteristics
High precision & high efficiency are the main reasons why thin sheet metal processing has drawn wide attention. One among them is laser cutting which is non-contact machining method having high cutting precision, fast processing speed as well as suited for various metals. Complex components can be produced through stamping and shaping of metallic sheets using CNC punch presses at very high speeds, which are widely used in automobile, electronic industries among others. Furthermore, bending, welding etc. are also essential operations in sheet metal production that needs highly skilled workers with rich experience.
Process flow
Sheet metal working process usually goes through material preparation, cutting, bending, stamping, welding and surface treatment.
Initially artisans must choose appropriate metal materials based on design requirements surface finished so as to improve quality of work done during production process. Later, parts required are cut or punched out from the metallic plate by use of laser cut or CNC punching processes. Further these body components fold into shapes via use of a press brake or bending die while a number of different units undergo resistance or arc welding to incorporate all these parts together and form one product. Lastly, product finishing such as spraying painting sand blasting electroplating etc., aims at improving its appearance as well as preventing it from corrosion.
Industry development trends
The advancement in smart manufacturing technologies drives new prospects and challenges for the sheet metal fabrication industry simultaneously. On one hand advanced technologies such as artificial intelligence (AI) and big data analysis have been instrumental in enhancing productivity while maintaining high quality standards hence leading to intelligent automation into production systems.
Conversely increased concern for conservation of environment necessitates green innovation and eco-friendly evolution towards sustainable development thus highlighting future prospects of manufacturing techniques and materials. Also, 3D printing technology will ensure customized production becomes plausible thus opening new doors for the sheet metal fabrication business.
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Floating Seal Installing Tools
Installation tools and suitable installation procedure are highly recommended for series production and maintenance work. Installation process has a significant impact on seal performance, and diameters up to 1105mm installation tools are available for different mechanical face seals.
Before installation, arrange a cleaned seal, o-ring & housing and free from any mechanical damage and dent. Cleaning the seal using lint free wipe and ensure the seal face be thoroughly cleaned and no fine particles of dust should remain on it.
Place the o-ring on the metal seal ring at the bottom of the seal ring ramp and against the bottom of the seal ring ramp and against the retaining lip and then check it is properly sleeved. Make sure the o-rings are straight on the rim and not twist or squeeze.
Engage the lip of the installation tool between the gap of o-ring and seal face inside the circular guide way groove of the tool, and bring the edges of clamp close to each other.
Press the seal ring into the housing like a snap fastener, and press the fixture with even load on the guide plate. Small rings can be manually fixed, however for big rings apply even and gentle pressure around the rim of guide plate using wooden mallet.
Ensure that afterwards the housing face is parallel to the seal face, and o-rings must not undulate in the housing bore or kink and bulge out of the bore. Ensure the clearance between the seal ring housing bores with FUYOTE engineer.
Do not use sharp instruments in floating seal installation. Inappropriate tool cause irreversible damage of metal ring's sealing face. Because mechanical face seals are high precision product, especially the contact band, tools must be used in installation. We recommend the use of installation tools to ensure a proper installation of o-rings. If improperly installed, twist on o-rings might lead to uneven stress and creep down from the metal ring. Eventually cause early failure.
Keep the floating seal in the original packaging until installation, in case dust will get inside the seal before installation. Fine-finished seal faces of the metal seal rings and the o-rings need to be carefully protected from damage and contamination.
The seal housing which contact the rubber o-rings need to be clean and free from machining debris before installation. This should be done using a lint free wipe. Remove the foreign material from the o-rings, ramps and the lips of both seal rings.
Use alcohol to clean the parts instead of any other oil that leaves oil film or do not evaporates. Only use lint free wipes or cloths, and never use tissue paper or cotton waste.
O-rings cannot be used with blow holes or damages. And also cannot be twisted inside housing.
Do not use sharp tools to locate o-rings and hammer on sealing surface.
Check for sealing edge free from dirt, dust, and hair. Keep the sealing surface clean thoroughly before installation, and never allow sealing surface be dirty, keep it be cleaned well before assembly.
After compete the final assembly of the unit, make sure both seals are in the correct hosing position, due to high impact can scratch or break the seal components. A new set will have to be installed even the wear limit is not yet reached, when the seal set is taken apart in the course of repairs.
Split tooling coding
Product number
FAT0010
CS9200
FAT0020
CS8250
FAT0030
CS7800
FAT0040
CS3250
FAT0050
CS2202
FAT0060
CS2050
FAT0070
CS1780
FAT0080
CS1630
FAT0090
CS10300
FAT0100
CS8950
FAT0110
CS3660
FAT0120
CS5590
FAT0130
CS6670
FAT0140
CS5050
FAT0150
CS10440
FAT0170
CS3180
FAT0180
CS1780
FAT0190
CS4290
FAT0200
CS1095
FAT0210
CS1501
FAT0230
CS1150
FAT0240
CS1240
FAT0250
CS1542
FAT0260
CS7800
FAT0270
CS2204
FAT0280
CS2980
FAT0290
CS3500
FAT0300
CS6600
FAT0310
CS8300
FAT0320
CS3002
FAT0330
CS3870
FAT0340
CS3000
FAT0350
CS3400
FAT0360
CS3181
FAT0370
CS1300
FAT0380
CS3700
FAT0390
CS1540
FAT0400
CS4700
FAT0410
CS2520
FAT0420
CS1461
FAT0430
CS1820
FAT0440
CS2230
FAT0450
CS0905
FAT0460
CS1250
FAT0470
CS1770
FAT0480
CS2652
FAT0490
CS0380
FAT0500
CS0730
FAT0510
CS1541
FAT0520
CS1240
FAT0530
CS2250
FAT0540
CS1820
FAT0550
CS3805
FAT0560
CS2820
FAT0570
CS7380
FAT0580
CS5960
FAT0590
CS5910
FAT0600
CS4500
FAT0610
CS2235
FAT0620
CS2750
FAT0630
CS5800
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Help Your Tenants Enjoy Their Holidays at the Beach
What makes the ultimate vacation rental experience? In beachy Florida, it may be worthwhile to tailor your vacation rental for beachgoers interested in the amenities you provide. Here are some ways to help your tenants enjoy their beach holiday at your property.
Create a Welcome Package
Create a welcome package with local snacks or trinkets guests can take home after their holiday. Before your guests arrive, ask them if they have any allergies or dietary restrictions as a guide for food items to include.
Write a welcome letter or create a booklet with all the essential information. Some items to include activities, check-out instructions and need-to-know house instructions.
Activities: A list of restaurants, beaches, shopping centers and local attractions. Include contact numbers and information for rental equipment, tours, wellness centers and spas. To make the experience extra special, list your favorite restaurants, excursions and attractions that a local would know.
Check-out instructions: Make it clear what guests must do when they check out.
Need-to-know house instructions: While you might be familiar with how your thermostat works or how to use the coffee machine, it’s always good to include instructions or point your guests in the direction of handbooks. Include information about locking doors and where to find more toilet paper or extra blankets.
Before your tenants arrive, ensure everything is in order:
Switch on the air conditioning.
Switch on lights if they arrive in the evening.
Stock the refrigerator with snacks.
Sweep the deck.
Keep your phone on in case they have any questions before they arrive.
Provide the Necessities
The key to creating a memorable vacation experience for your guests is to pre-empt their needs and desires. Ask yourself. What do you use every day? What would you want in a vacation home?
Stock the kitchen cupboards with at least six dinner plates, cups, glasses and cutlery. Include wine glasses and plastic cups for children. Add all necessary items to prepare a meal. Cutting boards, pans, pots, serving utensils and bowls, a grater. From there you can decide what appliances would make the stay more convenient.
According to Expedia, Hotels.com and Vrbo traveler trend reports, fancy coffee machines and air fryers are among the top five cooking amenities people expect in rental vacation accommodation. You could also add a food processor, blender or bottle openers for wine and other drinks.
Ensure the bathroom has a hairdryer and enough toilet paper, soap, shampoo and conditioner. Add some extras they might expect in a hotel but not a rental home, like bath bombs or face masks.
Have Beach-Friendly Amenities
While your guests will most likely spend hours at the beach, many may forget some necessary items when they pack for their vacation. Prioritize these amenities to ensure your tenants enjoy their stay and have everything they need for the beach.
Beach towels and extra linen: Beach towels can be bulky and take up much-needed space for an extra outfit. Provide beach towels in the house and ensure they are high-quality, soft and fluffy. Also, put extra linen in a cupboard so guests can switch out bedding if they need to, especially for longer stays.
Mid-stay cleaning: Your guests might do all they can to keep the sand out of the house, but it’s bound to find its way in. It can put a damper on the holiday vibes when guests have to spend more than an hour cleaning up. Offer a mid-stay cleaning to refresh the space and keep the vacation spirit alive.
Beach kit: Make a difference in their beach adventures by providing a beach kit they can carry around. Include folding chairs, a beach umbrella, a cooler box and some plastic snack cutlery. All they have to do is find the right spot and get to the good part — suntanning and enjoying the waves.
Outdoor shower: Provide a remedy for the universal sand-in-shorts experience with an outdoor shower. It can be as simple as a shower fixture attached to an exterior wall or a stylish, portable outdoor shower.
Washing machine and tumble dryer: These amenities help for longer stays or swim shorts and beach towel drying.
They will appreciate the thoughtfulness behind your effort to make their beach vacation a little more convenient.
Include Smart Tech
In general, guests are willing to pay more if it means they will have good Wi-Fi. Having a smart TV with one or two streaming subscriptions in your holiday rental is also a good idea, especially for nights when guests want to stay in and watch a movie.
Upgrade some of your appliances to make the stay memorable. You can update anything from thermostats that allow personalized temperature schedules to auto-sensor night lights or Wi-Fi-controlled light switches.
Add an electric fireplace for an aesthetically pleasing living room. Although Florida generally stays warm throughout the year, a fireplace is still something to appreciate on those rare chilly nights. Electric fireplaces are also 100% energy efficient, which is great for utility and maintenance costs.
Skip the Beach Kitch and Go for Boho Coastal
It is a beach vacation after all. However, guests will see enough seashells, waves and sand at the beach. Go for more subtle decor, using the textures and colors of Florida’s beaches as inspiration. Think unique textures, summer hues and subtle beachy features.
Incorporate these seven items for stylish coastal Boho decor.
Woven items like baskets or wall art.
A breezy color palette with light-blue, gray and off-white tones.
Whimsical ceramic flower pots, vases or dinner sets.
Wood elements like ceilings, shelves, floors or decorative items.
Indoor plants like hoyas or pampas.
Cozy textiles like duvet covers, throws or rugs in neutral colors.
Textured wallpaper.
It’s also a good idea to decorate the house with materials and upholstery that can withstand sunscreen, saltwater and sand. While your guests might take extra care to prevent stains, the warm weather means open windows and open windows mean moist and salty sea air. Ensure your furniture is durable and waterproof and use material that’s easy to clean.
Create an Enjoyable Space for Beach Lovers
As a vacation rental property owner, you want to create a space that’s both memorable and convenient. Combining stylish beach-themed decor and functional amenities that support beach lovers will ensure you have guests booking your vacation home all holiday season — and making plans to return next year.
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hello!! could i kindly request for a student campus crush! wonwoo hehe and you’re best friends and have unrequited feelings but u dont know if he feels the same so over a sleepover u tried confessing and you can continue from there hehe -🐼
let me hear you say | j. ww
✎ pairing: best friend!wonwoo x female reader
✎ genre: collegel!au, friends to lovers!au, mostly fluff
✎ warnings: none!
✎ wc: 2.40 k words
✎ notes: hi 🐼 anon! i got a little carried away with this one because soft, cuddly wonwoo makes my stomach do flips but i hope you like it! i'm not sure how i feel about my portrayal of yn here because i wanted them to be really supportive of wonwoo but kind of having a hard time because of their feelings towards him. i hope i was able to express that without portraying them as kind of eh :/
“Don’t you ever get tired?” You take a quick glance at your best friend as he folds up another piece of paper with a phone number written on it.
“Of what?”
“Of everyone in this school falling head over heels for you,” You say like it’s the most obvious thing in the world, proceeding to look back down at your notes. In reality, you were trying to prevent yourself from looking at the cute (albeit, confused) way your best friend was staring at you over your abrupt question.
“Well I can’t say I’m not flattered, but there aren’t really that many people yn,”
A total lie, you think to yourself. Every time you two walked around campus, your best friend attracted the adoring stares of all your classmates like some hotshot celebrity. Yes, he was popular, and yes, he totally deserved it, but if everyone knew how dorky he was, maybe they wouldn’t be so quick to hand him their number after a single conversation.
Another lie, if everyone knew what a nerd Jeon Wonwoo actually was, they’d probably fall for him harder. You would know of course, first hand experience taught you a lot of things.
It taught you how endearing it was when Wonwoo wore oversized clothing, so that he could pull the sleeves over his palms when sipping on a hot drink at the local campus cafe. It made you realize his habit of pushing his glasses up his nose, because he was too stubborn to get the bridge adjusted. It made your insides melt whenever he was nervous because he had a habit of fiddling with his fingers. You were certain that if anyone was completely head over heels and absolutely smitten by him, it was definitely you.
“Not many people my ass,” you scoffed, “you spoke to her once, just once! And now you are holding her number.” Wonwoo laughs at your poor attempt at hiding your annoyance, “For your information, we were talking about a group project, and exchanging contact information. Nothing more, and nothing less.”
You gave a little huff before going back to pretend-studying, you definitely couldn’t focus when he was sitting right across from you. You knew you were more prone to jumping to conclusions nowadays, and you hoped that Wonwoo didn’t notice your shift in behaviour. In reality, you couldn’t help but feel a little pang of worry whenever your best friend was asked out on another date. And while he rejected the offer every time, you worried that one day he might say yes and you could lose him forever.
Not that you were against Wonwoo falling in love someday. If he found a good person that he wanted to be with for the rest of his life, you would support him in a heartbeat. It was just the selfish feeling that blossomed in your chest that prevented you from feeling any true happiness for these kinds of situations, and you hated it.
You knew that he would never abandon you completely, because Wonwoo was the best friend you could ever ask for. But you also knew that it would kill you inside to see him sweep someone else off their feet.
You’ve known Wonwoo since high school, and you definitely harboured a puppy crush on him all of first year. This was back when he was still trading pokemon cards in the gym stairwell and poking at you to buy him something from the milk vending machine. The crush went away eventually and you found yourself enjoying the rest of your high school career with your closest confidant by your side.
Once you both entered university, Wonwoo had a sudden growth spurt that now put him a total head taller than you. He no longer lurked at the stairwells during lunch and instead made lots of new friends that he went out for coffee with. He started dressing nicer, and once he exchanged his old glasses for a pair of round silver ones that rested on his nose so perfectly, he instantly transformed into someone straight out of a kdrama.
Now, you have caught feelings again. And you’re scared to admit that this time a puppy crush doesn’t even encapsulate everything you’ve been feeling lately. Of course Wonwoo’s sudden change in appearance didn’t spark anything new in your feelings towards him. It was the fact that he had a new air around him that was just completely different.
Wonwoo in high school was shy, and you loved him for who he was. You two had your own small circle of friends and you would spend all your time reading or playing games in his bedroom. Wonwoo in college however, was breaking out of his shell and being the first to approach people and make new friends. He was still introverted of course, shyness and introvertedness were two different things after all. But you were proud to see Wonwoo take the initiative to make plans more often and reach out.
Wonwoo has also gotten a lot more comfortable around you. He’s grown fond of resting his head on your shoulder after a long day of classes, and wrapping you in his sweaters whenever you came by his flat. In conclusion, everything about university student Wonwoo, was driving you, (and probably the entire campus) crazy.
“Hello? yn? Don’t you have a class soon?”
You swat away the hand that was waving in front of your face to meet the eyes of the cause of all your heart troubles. One smile from Wonwoo and you were in shambles. You had it really, really bad. “Right, right, sorry I was just...distracted.”
“We’re still on for tonight right? You can just head straight to my dorm after your last class.”
“Of course Won, did you really think I was going to miss out on another rewatch of Extraordinary You?”
“Of course not,” Wonwoo chuckled. You were met with another one of those soft gazes from him, and you immediately tried to break your stare. Something in your heart tells you that you should just confess right now, and that Wonwoo was a sensible individual who wouldn’t let go of your friendship if he didn’t feel the same way.
“Hey Won, can I tell you something after class later?”
“Of course.” There was that smile again. If you weren’t so busy trying to slow your heart rate down, you would have caught the way his eyes brightened at hearing your question, and the way he looked down to twindle with his fingers.
You give Wonwoo your own smile before heading off to your last detour of the day.
Sleepovers with Wonwoo always consisted of a mountain of blankets, a never ending pile of snacks and a show to watch before eventually both of you fell asleep. When you arrived at his flat just as he was adding the finishing touches to a home cooked dinner, you realized that sleepovers with Wonwoo also consisted of another thing: Your tragic inability to keep your heart rate down.
“Dinner will be ready in a bit, you can just wash up and get changed for now,” Wonwoo turns to greet you before adding some pepper to the tteokbokki.
You nod and head over to his bathroom, where you already find your change of clothes resting on the counter. Any outsider would have been under the impression that you and Wonwoo lived together, considering that pieces of you were scattered all over his apartment. From the matching toothbrushes that were kept by the sink, to the drawer reserved only for your clothes in his bedroom.
The only reason that you and Wonwoo didn’t room together upon entering university, was the fact that your parents were wary of you rooming with a boy you weren’t even dating. Not that it mattered now, considering that you at least spent two nights at his place away from your own dorm.
After you showered and changed into your pajamas, you realized that Wonwoo had given you one of his sweaters to wear, instead of the usual shirts you slept in. Usually you would have raided his bedroom after dinner to steal one (you slept much better when you wore his clothing) but this time it appeared that he had taken the initiative for you.
Once you stepped out of the bathroom, you saw that Wonwoo was already sitting at the dining table and was on his phone. It looked like he was texting someone, and you felt your heart sink a little when he laughed at a message. No, you are not going to be jealous. You are going to be happy for your friend because he deserves all the happiness in the world.
“Is that the girl from your group project?” You sat down across from him and started piling the tteokbokki and rice onto your plate. “Yeah, she said that the professor just sent out a mass email to our class, saying that we were going to be given an extension. Turns out that email was meant for another course, but everyone is already celebrating the new deadline.”
Wonwoo shuts off his phone and turns to you, “Was there something you wanted to tell me today?”
Right. You were going to confess your feelings. It was now or never, and you weren’t sure if you could hold it in much longer. “I can just tell you after dinner, I’m starving.”
Tragic. Tragic. Tragic. Why couldn’t you just say the words, “Hey Won, I have feelings for you, do you feel the same way?” Must you be in a spiraling paradox of questioning the presence of unrequited love in the relationship you had with your best friend? Yes, most definitely yes. Since the world likes to make everything difficult for those in love.
Dinner was eaten in a comfortable silence for the most part. You liked that you never felt the need to fill the air with more conversation whenever you were with Wonwoo. There were days where you would just sit in each other’s presence and do your own thing, and those days left you with lots of time to ponder on your feelings for him. Tonight was the night that you were going to say these feelings aloud for the first time...you just needed a bit more time to procrastinate.
After you both finished your food, you relocated yourselves to the couch. You fidgeted with the end of your (his) sweater while Wonwoo searched for the show on Netflix. You figured that you would let him know in the morning, since there was a chance that you two would fall asleep before the episode ended. And you didn’t want to confess beforehand either, in fear of having to endure a brutal one hour of awkward tension if he didn’t feel the same way.
“Who would have thought that out of all the days the wifi could have chosen to bail on us, they chose the day where we were going to find out whether Haru belonged to Dan-oh’s story or not,” Wonwoo fiddles with the remote some more, while you panic in silence at the thought of spending the night with no distractions from your feelings.
“It’s not like we don’t already know how it ends,” You take deep quiet breaths to calm yourself down, you can definitely make it through the night, “We can just do other things.”
“What do you have in mind?”
You couldn’t answer him right away. The only thing you had on your mind was the fact that Wonwoo’s hand was now resting on your knee and that it was baffling how good he could look in pajamas. Wonwoo, sensing your inability to form words nervously glanced up at you before moving the conversation in a different direction, “Look, I know you had something to tell me today yn, but I realized that I wanted to share something with you too. I am in love-”
“I am in love with you Jeon Wonwoo!”
There. You blurted out a long-awaited confession before the anticipation consumed you whole. You couldn’t tear your eyes away from your hands in fear of seeing the look on Wonwoo’s face.
“Let me hear you say it again.”
“What?” You turn to Wonwoo, who no longer looked nervous. Instead, he wore the biggest shit-eating grin on his face that made you want to both kiss and strangle him. “Say it again.”
“Not when you look like you just won the lottery you nerd, you didn’t even say-”
“I am in love with you too yn.”
Well, you were never one to complain about the fact that your feelings were returned. But the way Wonwoo was cooing at your adorable expression of shock only made you want to shove him off the couch.
Which you proceeded to do.
“Hey! Aren’t you happy that I like you too?”
“Of course I’m happy! You didn’t have to try to beat me to my confession though, tonight was going to be my night!”
“You didn’t seem like you were going to say anything for the rest of the evening! You were going to wait until the next day weren’t you?”
Absolutely yes. “No!”
Any remaining tension in the atmosphere washed away as you and Wonwoo made fun of each other on the living room floor. You were beyond relieved and a little giddy that your best friend in the whole wide world saw you in the way that you saw him.
“But on a more serious note Won, were you also going to confess tonight too?”
“Actually no, but once you came out of the washroom wearing my sweater, I just had to say it before I tackled you with cuddles or something.”
“You gave me your sweater instead of my clothes to wear!”
“I know!” Wonwoo was holding your hand now and rubbing circles into your palm. The idea of cuddling the entire night didn’t sound so bad. “But you looked all nervous and shy and I was hoping that you were going to be the one to say something first.”
“Can we just agree that we confessed at the same time?” As the adrenaline from the confession began to slip away you suddenly became very tired, and you were hoping to just spend the night in the arms of your favourite person.
“Deal. So can we cuddle now?”
#seventeen#seventeen x reader#jeon wonwoo#wonwoo x you#wonwoo x reader#seventeen scenarios#seventeen fluff#wonwoo#chanberriees request#chanberriees fic#seventeen scenario#wonwoo scenarios#jeon wonwoo x reader#wonwoo fluff
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Types of love - Jin Drabble ft Jungkook {fluff + angst} Housemate au
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You hear a deep sigh beside you as you take out the laundry from the washing machine.
“Noona what are you doing?” Jungkook sounds exasperated with you and it’s only 7 in the morning.
“Jin’s got a meeting at 12, I told him I’d get his clothes ready for him,” you grin brightly at your youngest housemate.
“Why can’t Hyung do it?” He doesn’t return the smile.
“He wanted a lie in.”
There’s that sigh again but you ignore it, it made you feel a little shame that you tried to push down.
“Okay new question,” you could see him pinch the bridge of his nose from the coroner of your eye as you put the clothes in the dryer. “Why are you doing it?”
You shrug, “he’s been busy and I just though-”
“Noona,” cold judgy eyes came from the maknae.
“Kookie leave it, I’m doing it because I want to,” your sunny outlook on today was suddenly dampened by the annoying brat following you.
“He’s taking advantage of you and your feelin-”
“Kook I said leave it!”
You slam the door as you walk out.
——————————————————————————
It was no secret to anyone that you may have feelings for the oldest of your housemates, even though you’ve never ever said it out loud. Your actions spoke for you. You always went the extra mile due to your unrequited affection, but you didn’t mind, you were always taught to love without limits and you swore you did what you did without expecting anything in return. He was just so handsome and funny, you were happy just to be his friend, even if your heart hoped to be something more, you couldn’t help it. Maybe he did sometimes take a little advantage of you? But truly you were to blame for that and you took full responsibility.
You and Jin ignored the way Jungkook was staring daggers at him as you brought him his tea with some cakes to the table when he got back from a long day of work.
“How was work Jin?” You asked.
“Perks of being son of the CEO, everyone offered to do my work for me,” cue the windshield wiper laughter you loved to hear. “The new girl on my floor slipped me her number, it was a pretty good day.”
Your heart sank and with it your smile, you forced it to stay on as he rambled about his day and the pretty new girl, if they both could see your discomfort they didn’t say anything.
Jin wasn’t oblivious he just didn’t care, Jungkook on the other hand now watched your reactions like a hawk.
“It may not be the most professional thing to do as her potential new boss but I may have agreed to drinks Friday night,” he chortles, his spiel coming to an end.
“You’re not taking over the business any time soon Hyung, hold your horses,” Jungkook rolled his eyes.
“Wait Friday?” You suddenly speak after staying quiet. “Jin we’re all supposed to go for dinner Friday, we booked the table and everything.”
The three of you reserved dinner at the same place every year on the anniversary of you all moving in, it was an important night for you, you three were always so busy or tired so nights out were rare. Plus Jin was always so busy, he was either at work or at the gym or sleeping or out, the housemate anniversary was the only real time you got to spend with him.
“Y/n I think you missed the part of the story where I told you she was hot,” he argues with what he thinks is sound logic.
“Jin it’s the housemate anniversary, it’s sacred are you seriously ditching us for some random girl?”
“It’s not a big deal Y/n, hoes before bros you know?” he laughs at his own stupid joke and for the first time it irritates you a little.
“Not your bro Jin,” you grit your teeth.
“You might as well be Y/n, you’re not exactly the girliest girl ever,” he responds.
“Hyung,” Jungkook warns, finally butting in after watching your discussion like a tennis match.
You sit back in shock, did he seriously bro zone you? What the hell!
“Noona is pretty Hyung, stop being mean,” young Kookie comes to your defence when you fail to speak.
“Oh no I’m not saying she’s not, she’s just not my type,” why the hell was he talking about you like you weren’t there, he wasn’t even looking at you anymore. You sit deflated with you head low, biting back tears. Jin didn’t notice, when did he ever, Jungkook did.
“I think that’s enough.”
Jungkook was right, that was enough, you stood up to leave without uttering another word to them both. Once he heard your door close, Jungkook unleashed hell.
“What the hell hyung! Are you trying to upset her on purpose?” He seethed in a hush tone. “You know how she feels about you what the hell was that?”
“God Kookie don’t start on me it’s been a long day, it’s fun to pick on her a little, what’s the big deal?”
“The big deal is you hurt her feelings,” Jungkook says a little louder still trying to control the rage he felt at the man sitting in nonchalance while he had his fists formed and jaws clenched. Jin shrugged his shoulders and Jungkook wondered what happened to his good friend, he was never like this before.
“Hyung you take advantage on her all the time, she literally does everything for you because she cares about you without expecting anything in return and you treat her like shit,” he explains, “it has to stop.”
“I don’t know why you’re lecturing me you brat,” Jin rolls his eyes, “I’m older than you by 5 years, learn some respect.”
Jungkook walked away before he laid his fist into his friend and lived to regret it, he didn’t realise you heard every word.
——————————————————————————
“Is he seriously not coming?”
It was stupid to hope that Jin would make an appearance while you both waited for him at home dressed and ready. He still hadn’t come from work... he finished two hours ago. You weren’t upset because you liked Jin, you were upset because you thought at least you meant something as a friend. Jin and Jungkook became what you thought were best friends for you, regardless of stupid feelings, you just thought they felt the same.
Jungkook stood next to your sitting form, moving his weight from foot to foot.
“I don’t think he is Noona, he said he wasn’t going to,” Jungkook sighed. “Why are we still waiting, we’re going to miss our reservation.”
He hated seeing you sad, if he could punch some sense into Jin he would, hell he’d punch him anyway for making you look so downcast. He sighs deeply again, throwing his head back in exasperation.
He kneels down in front of you, taking you hands into his as you look up slightly to meet his gaze. He has stars in his eyes, you think, why hadn’t you noticed before?
“Noona should we just cancel?” He asks delicately. “We can go get our pjs and order an Indian and have a stupid movie night.”
He was really trying to make things better you could feel it, your blatant emotions for his friend must’ve made him feel so uncomfortable but he’s still trying for you. You offer him a small smile.
“Sounds great Kookie,” you say sincerely.
——————————————————————————
“Oh my god are you kidding me!” Jungkook says half seriously yelling at you. “Iron man is way better than Batman.”
You laugh out so loud, you can’t remember the last time you felt like this.
“I didn’t mean it Koo,” you say between breaths of laughter. “You’re just so cute!”
He fights the red feeling blooming in his face as he pokes the inside of cheek with his tongue in faux annoyance. Jungkook was loving your impromptu movie night, it was the first time in forever you didn’t mention he who must not be named.
“That’s just cruel, you don’t joke about iron man, it’s blasphemy,” his words make you laugh harder and it makes him break out in a big grin, one that wipes away as you both hear the keys turn.
Jin was not expecting you both curled up on the sofa with take away containers on the coffee table when he walked home from a rather boring date. Your laughter dies in your throat before he even walked into the room, eyes boring into the tv. Jungkook keeps his arm around you in place, he felt warm and comfortable he didn’t want this feeling to end.
“Good date Hyung?” He doesn’t know why he asked when he could feel you stiffen in his hold.
“Yeah,” he says a little dazed at the sight in front of him. “did you guys not go out?”
“Nah we stayed in and had a iron man marathon,” the bunny teeth were out as he grinned.
“I lost Rock Paper Scissors,” you offered meekly. Why did you feel like you were cheating on Jin? That was ridiculous, you were not dating Jin and you were just friends with Jungkook, right? “Wanna join?”
He shakes his head, “no you guys look like you’re having fun, plus I’m a bit tired so I’m going to head to bed.”
You normally offer him some tea and cake at this point, but you stay silent, Jin tries not to read into why it makes his chest feel heavy with disappointment and something else he can’t quite figure out.
——————————————————————————
You were laughing loudly again, it was irritating the broad shouldered man to no end, he didn’t mind the sound honestly, he just hated the reason why you were in this state. Jungkook was making faces at you while you both cooked and honestly Jin couldn’t understand why you found it so funny.
“You look like a meme!” You chortle.
“Is dinner ready yet?” Jin interrupts.
“Patience Hyung,” Jungkook doesn’t break eye contact with you, still smiling brightly. He’s so pretty when he smiles, you felt like you hadn’t seen it for a while before your movie night.
“Are you two dating?” Jin slams his laptop shut in his outbreak, he didn’t mean to ask but it came out anyway. You nearly drop the plate you’re holding but Jungkook catches it before you let it go. Now your both holding a plate while staring at each other wide eyed, while Jin gawks at you both with a quiet anger simmering away inside of him.
Why are you both blushing furiously? Jungkook is the first to break away as he stares his Hyung down with his own anger.
“So what if we are?” He asks. “I don’t think it’s any of your business either way.”
“Jungkook...” you frown, you were not dating, why didn’t he just say no... why didn’t you just say no?
Jin scoffs, he couldn’t really say anything to that but it pissed him off.
“I didn’t realise you were into toy boys Y/n,” he jeers.
Now you were frowning at Jin as Jungkook started to shake with rage.
“I could treat her a lot better than you ever could,” he seethes back.
“You’re still a kid Jungkookie, Y/n always treats you like one,” did he seriously not hear the irony in his words?
“That’s enough!” It’s you that breaks up the inane argument. “Jungkook is not a kid Jin, just because he’s young and nice doesn’t make him any less of a man than you.”
They’re both shocked at your outburst.
“He’s been a wonderful friend to me for years, he’s always had my back, always looked out for me even when I was being a stupid idiot pining after you!”
The youngest of the trio can feel his chest full with warmth at your words and the way your glaring at the oldest with such disdain he never thought he’d see. Jin stays quiet at your onslaught starting to feel shame as he reflected on how he’s treated you through the years. He used to really adore you too, really appreciated everything you did for him but when everyone at work started treating him the same it became a normalcy, something expected instead of a gift.
“I’d be so lucky if Kookie dated me, although he’d be out of his mind to after how pathetic I’ve been, he’s the best guy I know, don’t speak to him like that.”
Jungkook can’t help the small smile fighting to turn the corners up on his mouth, Jin doesn’t miss the way he looks at you, full of love. You were an idiot not to see it, it had been there for a while.
“Noona, the pastas burning...”
You turn back to the stove feeling the heat in your face from your rant, you didn’t expect it from yourself to be honest. Jungkook stood beside you, mixing the sauce in the other pan while the room sat in silence.
He couldn’t help but steal glances at you, couldn’t help the hope in his heart build, maybe you felt the same way about him too. Maybe this is what redamancy feels like.
You try to sneak a peak at the man standing next to you, surprised to see his eyes already on you, you feel your heart stop for a second before it restarted anew.
You return his smile, you can’t help it.
#bts au#bts angst#bts fanfic#bts fic#bts fluff#bts x reader#bts scenarios#bts roommates au#jin fanfic#jin angst#jin au#jin fluff#seokjin x reader#seokjin fanfic#jungkook scenarios#jungkook angst#jungkook au#jungkook fluff#jungkook drabble#jin drabble#seokjin drabble#bts drabble
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𖨆. 01 / all for us
summary: you wake up in a room that seems to be made specifically for you. as it turns out, it is made for you. you find that out when levi ackerman and erwin smith come in to the room and admit you aren’t allowed to leave. how are the first few days?
word count: +2.0k
warnings/notes: cursing, mentions of drugging, mentions of kidnapping, slight manipulation, abuse, violence, and starvation
YOU never thought that you would end up as a canary. a pretty yellow bird with dark dull eyes as you sat in a cage, a trap.
it all started when you met him. the devil incarnate. erwin smith.
he was charismatic young man, sitting at the age of 35 as he held the title of a prosecutor in court. you find it ironic, he puts vile criminals into jail but overlooks himself, the most vile of them all.
he met you at a café. the coffee beans were grinding in the machine at the counter, you remember how you relished in the smell.
when he first caught sight of you, you were scribbling on notebook paper with a nice black ballpoint pen. the gold framing of the pen shined in the light as you twirled it between your fingers. you looked slightly frazzled, but also at ease; something erwin was not used to seeing. you had white earbuds with the slight appearance of brown on the cords in your ears, hooked up to a laptop that you would occasionally glance at.
erwin thought you were a beauty.
you remember how he sat across from you, smoothly initiating a conversation with you. he was delighted to find out that you were a pianist along with a violinist, he loves classical music. you explained to him that you were struggling to create a song for your performance the next week, that all the music notes were just starting to contort into doodles.
when he helped you, that's when you felt grateful. you remember how he mentioned his partner, levi ackerman, and his own enjoyment of the piano. he asked for your number along with the venue where you would be performing.
you gave him the information easily, seemingly ecstatic about someone coming to your performance.
the next week after your performance, you met levi. he was curt and blunt, his difference from erwin had almost given you whiplash. luckily, you learned to adapt and you even would quip back at him playfully. it managed to make him smile, just a little. you enjoyed his company just as much as you did erwin's, something the two of them were happy about.
it wasn't until weeks later of hanging around them that it all went downhill. you went drinking with the two of them, easily complying to levi's request to drink more and more of your alcoholic beverage. it was the last drink that had you realizing that no other drink you had ever had was salty like this. you collapsed shortly after.
you remember waking up in a room, decorated to accommodate you and your interests. there was a white bookshelf that had gold framing splayed onto it with a vast selection of novels. there were three soft and plush chairs by the bookshelf with a soft rug underneath. a small coffee table sat in the middle of the rug.
there was a large bay window with a gorgeous view of a colorful and bio-diverse garden. cushions and throw pillows were placed onto the windowsill, another place for you to sit. the bed you'd awoken in was a queen, heavy cotton sheets messily spread across the bed. around the the room and even on the ceiling were soft yellow lights disguised as vines. directly across from the bed was a vanity and above that hung a nice flat screen TV. the night stands beside your bed held lamps and small knick knacks that you could entertain yourself with.
there were three doors. one to the left of your bed, one to the right of your bed, and one to the right of your television. you found out later that the one by your television was a small bathroom with nothing but a toilet and sink. the door to your right side of the bed was a walk-in closet that was decorated in clothing you'd never be able to afford.
you remember how after that, levi and erwin barged in as you panicked and started to pace around the room. you remember defying them, cursing them, hitting them, kicking them, and even spitting at them.
with a silent look from levi, erwin's distraught face turned slightly sad. his eyes were misty as he shuffled himself outside of the room. when levi's knee came into contact with your face, you realized why. especially whenever the gushing of blood dripped out of your nose and his voice screamed that none of this was their fault, but your's instead.
but now, levi was once again punishing you. you hadn't meant to do it. you hadn't meant to slap erwin. while you had a panic attack, your muscles thrashed without your command and you ended up slapping erwin across his face. you were secretly satisfied when you saw the pained look he gave you, but it immediately turned to dread whenever levi's rough hands pulled at your hair.
he's kicking you once again, and he occasionally accompanies it with a harsh slap.
"i didn't mean to, i didn't mean to!!!" your sobs sound so broken as you land on your side from levi kicking you.
levi ignores you, forcing you to stare at erwin, who sits at the door of your bed with that same neutral look sprinkled with pain.
"please!!!" you plead as you squeeze your eyes shut, "please, i didn't mean to!! i didn't meant to hit him!!"
levi stops his assaults, staring at your cowering form from above. the collar around your neck connected with chains clang against each other as you wearily raise your head.
erwin and levi are expecting a small whimper of pleas, but instead they watch as you slam your head against the hardwood floor. it has you reeling but even so, you continue. you're slipping into another violent mental breakdown, head banging against the floor as your other hand punches at your hipbone continuously.
your teeth are gritted as you start banging your ankle against the ground.
within seconds, levi and erwin are moving you onto your bed and holding down your thrashing limbs. they're murmuring sweet nothings to you, a hand on your forehead holding your head down against the pillow. you sob out again, entering the stage of hyperventilation and wails. erwin is crying along with you while levi just reminds you to breathe.
levi's hands are pressing your's on his chest and over his heart. his heartbeat guides you into stable breathing. when you've calmed down, you enter the shutdown stage.
"there we go," erwin praises and strokes a thumb against your cheekbone, "back to breathing."
levi stares at his boyfriend, who’s muttering something in your ear, but turns his attention back to you whenever you let out a small grunt.
"she wants to watch a movie," erwin says, pressing kisses to your cheek.
"any movie in particular? if not, i'll put on scooby doo; i remember you saying that it comforted you once," he grumbles while he turns on the television.
you don't answer, unsurprisingly, and levi puts on 'what's new, scooby doo?' for you. levi lays back next to you, cuddling into your warm and unmoving body.
it takes two episodes of watching the show for you to start letting out small, yet forced, giggles at some parts of the show. it takes two more for you to be able to speak again.
"food," that's all you said.
erwin shakes his head and wags a finger, "how do you ask properly?"
"can i have some food, please," you sound so tired.
the two men nod and leave your room to get you a meal. you sit up quietly and look down to your hands. they always left your hands untouched, seemingly trying to protect them from the abuse that levi would put onto you.
"stupid, fucking stupid," you spat, "this is their fault, not mine. their fault, their fault, their fault."
you drill the words into your head, but are soon interrupted whenever erwin enters the room with a tray of food.
"you're even sitting up now," he acknowledges while he puts the tray on the bed in front of you.
you thank him quietly and try to ignore the large hand stroking your hair.
"i love you," he doesn't. you don't do this to those you love. zeke never did this to you.
erwin frowns at your silence, hand now tilting your face to look at him. instead of love, your eyes were filled to the brim with hatred.
"you'll come to love us soon enough," he has no ounce of emotion on his face as his finger softly rubs against your skin.
"i doubt it," you mumble and force your face out of his hand. you just want to eat.
when you look down at the tray, you notice the absence of forks and knives. it has your stomach dropping.
"i'm feeding you," erwin says, fork between his long fingers, "we can't trust you with knives just yet."
erwin stabs the fork into cut up chicken breast on your plate, holding it up to your chapped lips. you stare at the food, had it been drugged?
"i don't want to be fed."
"that's too bad. you're being fed anyway, we can't trust you with forks either just yet," he grabs ahold of your jaw and forces your head to turn towards him.
his thumb and index finger squeeze your cheeks, forcing your mouth open with ease. you jerk away at the food suddenly being forced down your throat, hacking as if you were trying to get it up.
"let me chew first," you cough, handing reaching to touch gently at your adam's apple.
erwin doesn’t respond, opting to put another piece of the food onto the fork. he holds it out towards you, patiently waiting for you to stop choking and to eat again. you clear your throat, the idea of willingly letting erwin feed you makes you sick. you don't want to submit.
"i won't eat anything if you don't let me use the fork myself," you feel a headache coming on, fingers now pressing against your temples.
"then i guess you just won't eat," he says with a hint of sadness, taking the tray back into his hands.
you're so hungry. and the smell of the grilled chicken breast with a side of mashed potatoes isn't helping. you don't want to submit. you can't submit, you won't survive.
"guess that's settled then," you flop back down onto your back.
it wasn't the answer or reaction that erwin was expecting, judging by his widened eyes and stiff posture. he relaxes as he shakes his head in disapproval, walking out of the room and locking the door behind him.
you stare blankly at the ceiling while trying to ignore the growling of your stomach. your head hurts from the lack of food, another thing you're trying to ignore.
you turn on your side, but immediately cry out in pain. levi's earlier assault was starting to form bruises on your body, and the idea that you couldn't even curl into a ball made you want to cry. you hiss when you shuffle back onto your back, ignoring the searing pain that shoots through your ribs and sides.
your eyelids feel heavy after you settle down for a while, finally able to ignore all of the pain you've endured.
————
when you wake up, it's raining. there's not much natural light coming into your room, which you're okay with.
a pang of pain shoots through your head when you sit up, hands immediately grabbing at your hair and nails digging into your scalp. the tugging of your hair made your headache a little more bearable even if it was for a second.
the sound of your stomach growling and chains clinking echos through the quiet room, causing you to look down at your stomach. the chains are cold against your skin, tiny shivers spreading across your stomach.
you sigh and get yourself out of the bed. you walk to your bathroom, peeing with your face buried in your hands on the toilet. you ignore the fluorescent lights, which make your head hurt worse, and wash your hands aggressively.
you look up in the mirror as you do so, but you wish you hadn't. your eyes were puffy from the tears you shed yesterday and there's now a bruise on your swollen cheek from levi's smacking. you hold back the urge to punch the mirror, instead wiping your hands off with a towel and chucking it at the wall. you slam the door behind you and start to walk pass the three chairs meant for you, erwin, and levi. a wave of dizziness has you stopping and holding onto it, eyes instinctively squeezing shut.
when it passes, you grab a book and a throw blanket that's sat on top of one of the chairs. you settle onto the cushions of the bay window, taking a moment to stare at the rain falling.
you open the book, 'perks of being a wallflower', and find yourself lost in the words.
it's when levi comes in with a tray of food that you realize an hour or so has passed. he looks shocked to see you sitting and reading in silence, checking his watch as if he were making sure he didn't wake up late.
"got you food since erwin had to go to work. it's belgium waffles with some fruit and bacon on the side," he sits down next to your, now, curled up legs and puts the tray on the opposite side of him.
you wince at the mention of food and at curling your legs close. it doesn't go unnoticed.
"maybe if you didn't act out you wouldn't be in so much pain now," he says, holding out a piece of the waffle and a hand under to make sure the syrup doesn't drip onto the blanket.
"i'm not going to be fed. i'm not a child," you stare at the food.
"you're going to starve to death if you don't eat. quit being stubborn and fucking eat. i don't feel like cleaning up a body," he snarls and you resist the urge to kick his hand away.
"if you let me feed myself, i'll eat. then, you won't have to worry about digging me a hole."
"you haven't earned that privilege. we feed you for now."
"then i guess i don't eat," your eyebrows are furrowed as you stare at him.
"you're stupid. you'll end up dying."
"rather die than be fed like a child."
"you've got some pride. maybe i can beat it out of you," he drops the fork onto the plate.
"if you beat me anymore then you might actually have to worry about a body," you avert your eyes back to your book.
"if it's what needs to be done," he crosses his arms, "speaking of bodies, your's reeks."
"i don't have a shower in my bathroom, i can't help you with that issue," you shrug and flip the page.
"you can."
"i'm not letting you bathe me either. i'm not stupid. if you're feeding me then you're obviously going to be bathing me."
he chuckles a little at your defiance, but you know it's forced. you can smell the frustration on his body and your ego inflates knowing that you're the one who got him to be like that.
"when you decide you want to live, knock at the door and call for me," he grabs the tray and leaves the room, once again locking the door behind him.
"i can wait eight more days before i die."
#attack on titan#shingeki no kyojin#snk#aot fanfiction#snk fanfiction#levi x reader#levi ackerman#shingeki no kyoujin levi#levi attack on titan#snk levi#erwin x levi#erwin smith#snk erwin#erwin x reader#aot erwin#dark content#sorrels.allforus💒
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Summary: She wonders if Akaashi Keiji could be her forever, (but then in the silence, her heart breaks).
Pairing: Akaashi x reader, Yaku x reader
Sequel here
AO3 Link here
She meets Akaashi at an office mixer for magazine staff – he, an up and coming editor in the manga department, she, a translator for two languages.
Their paths meet when she spills a drink on his shoes (honestly, large crowds were never her forte) and her interest is immediately piqued when he smiles at her calmly and tells her he never liked that pair of shoes anyway. Then they start bumping into each other at work. She learns he drinks a prodigious amount of coffee – always black, from the number of times she catches him bent over the vending machine in the pantry. He saves her from the wrath of the printing machine when she forgets to remove the staples from her papers again.
‘We should go out for dinner’, she tells him, because she’s been taught to get out there and chase what she wants (and she rather likes the broadness of his shoulders and the patience in his eyes), and while he’s mildly taken aback, he agrees. She takes him for dumplings in a greasy diner, practically a hole in the wall, and is gratified when he doesn’t seem to mind that she eats almost as much as he. He doesn’t agree to let her pay for him – she tries to insist because she’s the one who asked, after all – but he does agree to split the bill.
He brings her to his favourite bookstore the following week, and they sit in a nook with their respective books and share a pot of tea. She discovers his dry sense of humour through long conversations about any and everything. He admires the contours of her mind when she rambles about work in three languages to him.
Months pass – and by the year’s end, he asks her to move in with him.
They find a flat a few stops from work. It’s small, but he manages to squeeze in a sprawling bookshelf groaning with the weight of his books, and she stuffs it full of knick knacks she stole from her parents’ home. They walk to work and leave for home together.
They spend nights on the couch sharing pots of tea, he - buried in his work, she - immersed in music, and on weekends they explore parks and bookstores and restaurants and museums. They discuss heatedly whether to adopt a cat or dog (she prefers the former, he prefers the latter) and talk about the possibility of buying a house in a year or two.
She begins to think that this could be her forever, and wonders if he feels the same.
‘Are you really dating Akaashi-san?’, Hana-chan from accounting asks curiously over lunch one day.
‘Yes’, she answers with a slight frown. ‘Why?’
‘You two seem so formal with each other’, Hana titters. ‘If he didn’t send you flowers ever Friday, any one watching you both would assume you’re just friends.’
‘Keiji is just reserved’, she defends him heatedly, ‘He’s affectionate enough in private with me.’
Hana laughs at her frown - ‘I’m sure, I’m sure - it’s just strange to find someone so shy about their love in this day and age’.
Hana isn’t wrong per se - she remembers an incident in their early days of dating when she tried to hold his hand and steal a kiss from him, but Keiji avoided her grasp and muttered a firm ‘not in public, dear’. Still, she tells herself she doesn’t mind that, her heart is warm enough from the gentle kisses he presses to her face in the comfort of their little home.
‘Busy, busy Keiji’, she says, a teasing lilt in her tone. ‘It’s time to go home’.
‘I still have work to do tonight’, he frowns down at the page in his hand. ‘I’ll meet you at home?’
‘Sure’, she chirps. ‘I’ll have a cup of tea waiting for you when you get home’.
‘I actually prefer coffee’, he replies, an embarrassed flush on his face. ‘I can’t keep awake with just tea’.
‘You’re going to continue working at home?’ She tilts her head to look at him confusedly, because yes - deadlines are tight in the publishing industry, but Keiji’s just powered through a major submission and is up for a promotion because of it - so it doesn’t make sense that he’s still so busy. ‘Rest is important, Keiji’.
‘I know but I asked for extra assignments - I thought I should challenge myself’.
It’s her turn to frown. ‘Oh’, she says, and her disappointment must be evident in her face because he turns to catch her arm. ‘Work is important, darling. Surely you understand.’ He gives her a slight smile. ‘I promise I’ll make it up to you when all of this ends’. ‘
Alright’, she says, trying to smooth her frown from her face. ‘I shan’t be mad since you promised so nicely’, she jokes half-heartedly and heads off alone.
The flat is cold and empty. She hums to herself to fill the silence as she fixes herself a cup of tea.
‘Working late again?’ she asks.
He’s crouched over his desk in the office, multiple cups of coffee and stacks of paper marked in red strewn everywhere. The smudges beneath his eyes are a darker purple than she remembers, the skin of his hands almost translucent beneath the harsh office light and scarlet ink stains.
‘Mm’, he nods. His eyes do not leave the page.
‘I’ll see you later?’ she offers, and leaves when he offers no reply.
She leans her forehead on the sofa (ignoring how it’s too big for her alone) and plays the songs her mother used to sing until she feels like she’s home.
‘You’re working yourself too hard’, she tells him on another late night.
‘I’ve got work to do’ he responds, blinking owlishly up at her as if he can’t believe she doesn’t understand. She does – really, but it’s raining and she doesn’t want to walk home alone.
‘Work can wait’, she tries again, running her hand along his arm, frowning as he shrugs her off.
‘Not here’, he tells her firmly. ‘Not anywhere’, she can’t help but think to herself.
A car splashes her with rainwater as it drives by. She stands under the scalding hot shower for far too long, telling herself it’s because she’s trying to scrub the dirt marks off her legs (and definitely not because she’s hiding the tears sliding down her face). There’s an ache beneath her ribs that she can’t acknowledge (because if she does, it means the crack in her heart is real), so she sings her favourite songs to herself until she can pretend she’s ok.
‘I’m home’, he calls to her, his voice echoing in the flat.
‘Keiji!’ she bounces into the hallway to greet him, but the thick stack of paper he draws out of his briefcase makes her heart sink. ‘Oh well’, she thinks to herself, and does what she always does when she’s alone - puttering around the kitchen, humming songs with a cheerful melody. But when she fetches him a cup of tea, she notices a furrow in his brow, traces the downward slant of his mouth, hears the harsh tap of his slim fingers against his desk.
‘Is everything ok?’ She approaches him cautiously, placing her hand on his shoulder. ‘You seem a little tense.’
‘Everything's fine, I just can’t focus when you’re making so much noise’, he says curtly.
‘I’m sorry’, she offers contritely, flinching inwardly at the lines of irritation appearing on his face. ‘But it’s the weekend, Keiji. Surely you can take some time off work?’
‘No, I can't. You wouldn’t understand’, he responds, waving her off dismissively.
‘We haven’t spent much time together in a while. Maybe we can go for dinner tonight?’, she persists, ignoring the pain sharpening in her chest.
‘I said I can’t, I have work’, he snaps at her, not noticing when she takes an involuntary step back. ‘You obviously don’t understand.’
‘I do understand’, she tells him quietly, because she does - she’s not some flunky working in a dead-end job – for heaven’s sake they’re professionals in the same industry. She wouldn’t be in line for promotion at the end of the year if she weren’t herself adept at managing the stress of impending deadlines and an overwhelming workload - but he does not respond.
So she stays silent. And in the absence of sound, she can hear her heart break.
She has vacation days to spare, so she packs her bags and moves out into her sister’s place.
It’s a little sad how easy it is to avoid Keiji’s notice since he’s never at home. He must notice when she’s gone though because he tries calling her the day after – once, twice, and by the third time she sends a single text – ‘it’s over. Please don’t contact me again’, and promptly blocks his number. But he’s persistent, waiting by her desk with a ridiculously large bouquet of flowers when she heads back to work.
‘Talk to me’, he begs, and she suppresses the urge to tell him that she tried, goddamnit - but she’s done, please go away and leave her alone, but his face is drawn and his eyes are bloodshot, and she reminds herself – this is Keiji, the man she fell in love with over plates of dumplings and shared pots of tea, the man she once believed could be her forever, and agrees to meet him for lunch on the weekend.
‘But not now’, she says, unable to resist a parting shot – ‘work is very important to you after all’.
She regrets it immediately when she sees his shoulders stiffen and something in his eyes break.
They arrange to meet at the café in his favourite bookstore. She turns up five minutes early but finds he’s already there waiting. He orders coffee – black, without sugar, and she gets tea with a slice of cake.
‘Come home to me. Please. I miss you’, he blurts out, looking at her with pleading eyes.
‘I can’t do that’, she says, shaking her head because their flat hasn’t felt like home for so long – no, not in the absence of sound, the silence so still she heard her heart break.
‘I can fix this’, he promises desperately. ‘I’ll stop working so hard, I’ll come home for dinner with you - it’ll be just like what we used to do, and we’ll be happy again’.
‘Keiji’, she says, a sad smile on her face. ‘There’s nothing left to fix. Can you honestly promise you won’t end up resenting me - resenting us - when exciting assignments and promotions pass you by, because you feel obliged to split your time between work and me?’
‘I could never resent you’, he tells her brokenly. ‘Never.’
‘Don’t lie to me, Keiji’, she replies tiredly. ‘You and I both know you love your work more than you love me’.
He shakes his head in denial, eyes red and glassy and she stops him with a finger to his trembling lips before she continues, the words bitter in her mouth - 'It’s ok to admit that you fell out of love with me. I should have realised that a long time ago. You deserve to find someone you love more than your work, and I deserve to find someone who’ll put me first’.
At this, he lets out a quiet cry, and she can hear her heart crack open again. But the sad truth is she knows it’s over – has been over ever since she’s allowed her heart to be burnt slowly by his neglect, the ashes building up in her chest.
‘I’m sorry, Keiji’, she turns to leave, a bittersweet smile twisting her lips. ‘It's time to let each other go’.
To his credit, he doesn’t pester her at work, though he sends her flowers every Friday – pink camellias for longing, violets for devotion, forget-me-nots for obvious reasons, and she draws the line when he starts to send her red roses (for love), sending him a strongly worded note to let her go. He finally stops, and she’s relieved when he takes her advice and asks out a girl from the publishing department – a peach blossom girl, thoroughly gentle and sweet and soft spoken. She tells herself she’s happy for him.
Still – there’s a dull ache in her chest when she sees them share an umbrella together when they leave work, a poisoned whisper in her mind wondering why she wasn’t quite enough for him, and an awkwardness when she bumps into either of them - especially that awful time she got stuck in the lift with said peach blossom girl, neither woman quite knowing where to look. It's enough to push her to resign right after she collects her bonus.
She’s always dreamed of joining the diplomatic corps, and luckily, since she’s fluent in Russian, it’s easy enough for her to land a posting with the Japanese embassy in Moscow. So she chops her hair (she hears that’s what break-ups make girls do), packs her bags and gets on a flight to her next adventure.
Moscow is as colourless and dreary as she imagined, so she wouldn’t have thought a quiet shade of brown might catch her eye as it does when the Japanese embassy hosts a party during New Year’s Day and she meets one Yaku Morisuke, a libero playing in the Russian Volleyball Super League, and from what she hears, a vital member of the Japanese National team.
She can’t help but feel an overwhelming sense of déjà vu when she bumps into him and spills her drink all over his shoes, but it’s eased when he shoots her a wide grin and tells her not to worry even though it’s his favourite pair of shoes.
‘You can teach me Russian over dinner as payment instead’, he tells her cheekily, and he takes her for Russian dumplings, full of beef and pork and potatoes. ‘It’s a little strange but it’s the closest thing I can find to home’, he says, eyes bright. He lets her pay the bill, but insists she let him pay when they go out again.
‘Are we going out again?’ She teases, and feels her heart skip a beat when he pouts at her with puppy-dog eyes. To no one’s surprise, they meet for a second date, then a third, and their days together soon blends into happy memories of ice skating and dumplings and steaming cups of tea.
‘Why don’t you move in with me’, Yaku asks her matter of factly through a mouthful of rice, at the end of her tirade about her awful landlord who just tried to double her rent in less than a year.
Her mouth opens and closes as she processes the thought and her mind moves into overdrive, worrying she’s moving too fast, falling too fast (the spectre of the trainwreck that was her and Keiji buzzing at the back of her mind) - but then she realises she’s being unfair to him.
Because Yaku - or Mori as she now calls him, is nothing like him. He’s short (though she’d never admit it), whereas Keiji is tall. Quick tempered to Keiji’s calm temperament. But more importantly, he delights in spending time with her even after a long, hard day at work, humming contentedly to the songs she sings, and he never shies away from affection - relishes it, rather, pulling her close with the edges of her woollen scarf to kiss her openly on the street.
‘Come on’, he wheedles. ‘We could even adopt a kitten so you won’t be lonely when I’m away for work’, and he laughs fondly when her face lights up.
You drive a hard bargain, but alright’, she pretends to grouse, heart in throat, but echoes his laughter when he triumphantly leans over to press his lips to her cheek.
She - with their cat in tow - returns back to Japan when Mori’s drafted to play for the Japanese team in the Olympics.
‘Akaashi!’ she exclaims, spotting a familiar mop of dark hair in the VIP stand. ‘What are you doing here?’
He waves a friendly hello. ‘I never told you I played volleyball in high school?’ he asks and when she shakes her head, he points to a tall man with grey and white streaks in his dark hair. ‘I used to be Bokuto-san’s setter’, he tells her, pride evident in his calm voice.
‘That’s so cool’, she says cheerfully, checking back to the court to see if Mori’s playing yet. Then she glances at him once over, noticing lines under his eyes that weren’t there before. ‘Keiji’, she says, the once familiar name now foreign on her tongue. ‘How are you?’
‘I’m good’, he replies with a small smile. ‘Surviving. Alright, I guess.’
‘Not married yet?’ she asks playfully.
‘No, we broke up’, he tells her plainly, waving away her apologies. ‘And you?’
‘Nope, not married yet’, she says with a distracted smile.
He wonders if he should seize the moment to tell her what he’s wanted to say when their relationship ended in flames (starting with ‘I’m sorry for everything’, and ending with a hopeful ‘maybe we can try again’) but he stops short when she shouts ‘Mori! Mori!’, as a short, brown haired man steps onto the court.
‘You know Yaku?’ Akaashi asks curiously. Nekoma libero, often overlooked but extremely dangerous - he remembers.
‘He’s my boyfriend’, she chirps, eyes glued to the court. ‘Do you know him too?’
‘We used to play each other in school’, he answers faintly, watching her cheer and wave her hands wildly. She’s happy, he thinks, she’s really moved on - and that thought selfishly makes his stomach sink.
‘He’s a good man’, he finally finds himself telling her.
‘The best’, she agrees, the sparkle in her eyes so bright he’s forced to look away.
He thinks he must be a masochist when he watches her throw herself headfirst into Yaku’s arms at the end of the match, the regretful ‘what ifs’ and ‘that could’ve been me’ thundering in his ears. Still, he knows she deserves someone who’ll always put her first, and with that thought ringing in his mind, he waits until she’s distracted with Bokuto-san’s antics before he steps forward, hand outstretched to Yaku.
‘Take care of her’, Akaashi says with a bittersweet smile. ‘You’re a lucky man’.
Yaku gives him an assessing look. ‘Always’, he promises firmly, taking his hand.
She returns home first, and he follows a few weeks later, after a whirlwind of awards and press interviews.
He breaks into a run when he sees her, swinging her into his arms at the arrival gate, and when they get home she cooks dumplings for him. ‘In case you miss home already’, she tells him teasingly, but flushes when he answers ‘but with you, I am home’, and blushes bright red when he carries her off to bed.
‘I want this to be my forever’, Mori tells her as he lays his head in her lap.
‘So do I’, she replies, her heart humming quietly, finally in safe hands. ‘So do I’.
#haikyuu#haikyuu imagines#haikyuu angst#haikyuu fic rec#haikyuu fluff#haikyu x reader#akaashi keiji#akaashi imagine#akaashi keiji x reader#akaashi headcanons#akaashi angst#yaku morisuke
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I don’t know where I first heard of the concept of the Ghost Factory but it’s the kind of fascinating and almost certainly untrue urban legend that feels like it’s worth sharing. I probably picked this up from a forum that was serving as a stand-in for your friend’s weird older brother who tells you that humans were genetically engineered by aliens to desire gold and platinum.
The idea of a Ghost Factory (I’ve also heard the phrase Zombie Factory) is that it’s a factory that no one owns and no one remembers. Effectively a massive scaled up version of the Forgotten Employee (if you remember that Something Awful thread).
The concept is simple, and very believable. Some company establishes a factory producing cheap tat, usually via a fairly mechanized process. It’s the 80′s, so factories aren’t all centrally controlled by a head office, they do their own dealings in accordance with guidelines sent down from management, they get a Rolodex with their supply chain contacts, and they have their own little departments for handling shipping, accounts, raw materials, hiring, etc. If there’s too many employees it’s hard to lose track of it but if all you have is an accounts department, a shipping team, a dozen QA testers and some mechanics who look after the tooling, that’s easy to lose. The parent company sets up this factory, gets it some contracts making the hulls of kitchen appliances or whatever, and then, crucially, loses track of it.
I must once again stress that I have never heard any proof of this, and I don’t think they’re real.
So now you have this autonomous factory, where it basically looks after itself, manages its own finances and handles all its inputs and outputs, which has demands placed upon it by its contracts but no real obligation to report to anyone. Perhaps the manager who was supposed to run it got fired at the last minute and he was replaced by someone hired by the factory’s own HR department. He’s never going to read all the company policies, as long as nothing breaks he’s going to look after his own little kingdom and assume that everyone else is handling the important stuff. No one yells at him from above because his desk phone number was never actually written down, and he tries his best not to think about this.
And so it continues. Year after year, they extend their contracts, order new tooling, repair old machines. If you hang out in certain consumer product forums you’ll sometimes hear people talk about how “oh this is obviously made with legacy tooling” by which they mean “this has been made on the same machine in the same factory for the past 40 years and you can see the lettering blur as the printer plates wear down.”
They have to, by their nature, make low-stakes items. if they made precision machined engine parts then they would never get away with lasting for decades. There’s too much change in that, they’d get asked to test a new technology and they’d realise that there is no R&D division. Where did the parent company go? That’s their business, not ours. But if they make cheap MP3 player case, or stamped metal blender blades, or cast hunks of zinc for kitchen appliances, well no one is going to notice that. Grad Student’s First Juicer Blender Blades come from the factory on their last legs at the best of times, these ones having slightly rolled over edges because the stamp hasn’t been replaced in years is nothing new.
I must once again stress that I have never heard any proof of this, and I don’t think they’re real.
The story is fascinating, because it looks at a particularly weird time in manufacturing history. The stories are invariably about Chinese factories, probably propped up by the much more accurate stories about ghost towns and the very real existence of thousands of shell corporations that all sell the same product, made in the same factory, silkscreened with a new logo because a thin layer of paint is the only thing justifying their existence at all. The time when mass manufacture was so automated that this could happen but we still lived in a weird unconnected no-internet world where it was still possible to just lose an entire building because your paper records were shoved in a cabinet that someone lost the key for.
It feels like the kind of story that would have arisen during the late 90′s and early 2000′s, when you’re reaching the point where working in a factory is no longer a valuable job because of automation and centralization of manufacturing. What’s more indicative of that than a factory so devoid of human contact that it can be forgotten. Management doesn’t just not care about you, they don’t know about you. You can’t forget about a manual 70′s steel mill in Pennsylvania, it’s too dynamic a space.
I must once again stress that I have never heard any proof of this. I don’t think they’re real.
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Utopia Lies (Part 1: Wreckage)
Relationships: Midoriya Izuku X Reader
Characters (in this part): Villain! Reader and Prohero! Midoriya Izuku
Tw: Car accident
A/n: Hello everybody! I AM BACK WITH A NEW MINI SERIES!! After taking a long break from writing to enjoy my summer holiday, I am here again with a long awaited project that I teased a while back :)
|Patreon| Ao3 |
(Why did it end this way?)
Knuckles, strained themselves under the tight pressure of the person controlling them, gripping the slick carbon-fibre steering wheel.
Though the pain- both mentally and physical- was easily ignored by the tinted driver’s seat window rolling down to allow fresh air, from the empty fields decorated with wildflowers and the camouflaged clouds, to bellow across sensitive flesh features and comb through tear-soaked lashes paired with sore eyelids that dried up like a desert, with a lifeless emotion sinking into the colour of your two orbs.
Tyres dipped into small forming puddles and shook the excess water off to the overgrown shrubbery that made up the curb of the road.
Holding the clutch pedal down, an achy hand reached out for the gear stick to manoeuvre it into the 5th gear.
When retracting the achy hand back to the wheel as the foot, on the accelerator, pushed down further, the engine reeved itself up and created louder noise within the silent atmosphere.
Though you shouldn’t have done that.
Especially when turning a sharp corner and the four-by-four’s wheels emitted a high-pitched screech.
It was in the moment, even though you were secure in a plush seat, that a gust of air harshly hoisted you upwards- causing your limbs to escape from where they previously laid to become a jumbled mess.
Let’s just say, you were out for the count.
(How could you do this to yourself?)
-----------------
“Deku! You’ve finally arrived!”
The scene was a familiar sight to see, yet highly unanticipated at the same time. With police officers looking around the area to find any more hints of why this could’ve happened, the fire and rescue team on hand were awaiting the ambulance and keeping an eye on the vehicle in case anything else happens.
Yet…
“Hey! Sorry I’m late, getting to this place was a bit hectic.”
Scratching the backside of his neck, the glistening ground was slippery to walk across as rubber soles made their acquittance to the concrete.
“What happened here?” A familiar car laid slanted in the hedgerow with lines splattered across transparent glass. The pro-hero is internally swearing that he recognises this car, but… its like he can’t think of why he recognises it.
With one of the officers detailing him how it was “A car accident” with “no passengers in sight”, there was little that they could investigate besides the number plate and DNA samples from the seats and stirring wheel.
,
.
. Flickering illuminations shone down as two pairs of footsteps echoed across used-to-be clean navy-blue tiles- which are now muddled with dirt and grime washed over and in between the cracks of said tiles- but with heroes and police officers racing or walking down this particular hallway on most days, its dull and quiet for a Saturday evening when crime is usually at its highest.
“One of the officers said you recognised the vehicle, is that right Deku?” The detective announced out of nowhere, catching Izuku off guard and opening a can of worms that both of them didn’t expect to be opened tonight.
“Yep, it’s correct.” The folder that was being held in Izuku’s hand was slightly crinkled at the edge of its cheap paper base.
“That was (y/n)’s—there’s no doubt about it.” The detailing of the stirring wheel, material of the seats, and finally, the paint job that was done on the car—Izuku knew from the bottom of his heart that it was your car.
But what was strange is that there was nobody in the car when the officers caught up to the dead-end of the speed race.
Did somebody steal your car or was it all a scene to throw him off guard?
Everybody knows what your like, even he does, so why is your sudden disappearance a surprise to him when he arrives at the crime scene?
More or less, why does the sudden activity from your rouge motives bring back the last conversation he had with you?
“Where have you been?” Was something you didn’t expect to hear. But the frustration preceded the speaker’s hero-persona into something more personal.
Especially after a languid Sunday night patrol when the tattered body suit clung for dear life against dirt ridden sticky skin and bruises that are going to hurt tenfold the morning after.
Turning yourself to the direction of the sound was Izuku holding a cup of coffee paired with furrowed green eyebrows. If it helps, then imagine the faux glow of the moon glazing his stern, hinged shut jaw clenched together with an intense gaze, that even villains would shiver under, glaring at you when the soft brr of your coffee machine begins to filter out small brown caffeinated granules into a plastic jug.
Motioning to your clothes and replying to his comment by saying “I’ve been at work.” Did not ease the intension between the pair.
Hearing a light tut be released from those thin lips of his, Izuku took a sip from the steaming caffeinated drink before setting it down on a nearby counter.
“I saw your fight today.”
A light hum for the male to continue was released.
“I’m worried about you.”
Just when you were about to place the ceramic cup down, a light pause ensued.
.
.
.
“I don’t know what your getting yourself worked up about—” You announced. “—there’s nothing wrong with me, I haven’t fainted yet.”
Blatantly, you knew there is something wrong with you.
“Then where the hell have you been, (y/n)?”
Grabbing the handle of the plastic pot, now filled with a deep brown liquid, the pro-hero was about to cautiously pour the steaming brew into their ceramic mug.
Taking a whiff of the aroma, the slight twitch of your nose alerted the rest of your battle worn body to enter another fight or flight mode.
“Nobody has been able to contact you for weeks—” A smash of clay had met the wall, where the singing liquid had splattered against the newly damaged wall and the male’s face.
“Shut up.” Rumbling anger bubbled threateningly in the pits of (y/n)’s chest.
“And take what I’m going to say as some advice for once.” Even if Izuku was the top boss of the hero world, you had always held a notorious reputation for making people piss in their pants.
“What—” Flabbergasted at your comment and how rudely you cut him off by saying “leave”, he takes his exit through the front door and never returns.
(Leaving you to wallow in your guilt as a text message from your phone pops up saying: “You made the right choice.”)
----------------
Looking back into the distance, after the sirens had stopped with police evacuating the scene, there was a million miles of distance between that of the car wreck and your slightly ragged form.
But its all said and done.
The announcement of your status was released only a few days ago and now the whole country is on a hunt for you.
In reality, running away is not as exhilarating as it sounds- more so, its like the slow rise of suffocating humidity within the air.
With a soft rustling of vegetation alerting the run-away rouge, a hint of glossy blue eyes peeked through the shrubbery.
“And here I thought you’d never arrive.”
“Did I have a choice, though?”
(What brave words to say, I would be careful if I was you.)
Taglist:
@quietlegends @dragonsdreamoffire @sweater-weather-seven @midnightmoonkiss @glitterfreezed @tifaswriting @re4lm-ai @candybabey
#Izuku midoriya x y/n#Izuku midoriya bnha#izuku midoria x reader#Izuku midoriya mha#Prohero! Izuku Midoriya X Reader#(Y/n) has gone rogue :D#dorki's oneshots
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The Rapunzel Effect
Pairing: Ezra (Prospect)/Reader
Word Count: 2,048
Warnings: None, one use of (F/N) (L/N)
Upon losing his arm, Ezra is left stranded, almost entirely unable to care for himself without making some kind of mess. That’s where you step in. As his prospecting partner turned somewhat nurse turned Cee’s other new parent, it’s your job to keep poor Ezra functional and marginally happy as he adjusts to his life.
Living with Ezra was hard.
You’d known him for a while, on and off as distant friends do. You two would take a prospecting job together, work side by side for a bit, and then go your separate ways until you managed to team up for another job.
And then he got stuck on the Green.
You could still remember his face when you’d left him. The mutiny that your coworkers had staged, them dragging you away from him, the expression of betrayal and terror as he realized what was happening.
You quit prospecting after that. It was too dangerous, especially on moons like the Green. For almost two years, you built a life for yourself on a nearby habitable planet, looking up and seeing the Green every so often, wondering if Ezra was up there or if he’d given in yet.
Honestly, you should’ve expected he’d come back. He was a stubborn bastard, of course he’d come back.
You got a call one night, stumbling out of bed and answering it.
“Hello?” You mumbled, rubbing your eyes and yawning.
“Is this (F/N) (L/N)?” The person on the other end asked.
“Yeah?”
The person took a breath. “You are listed as Ezra 4053’s emergency contact, is that correct?”
“Who?” You asked, genuinely confused for a minute before you remembered Ezra had no surname. He had been a state ward, meaning he had a number in place of a family name. “Oh! Yeah, I am.”
“We recently took Ezra into our care, and he now needs a responsible guardian for the duration of his recovery.”
The shock hit you like a ton of bricks. You’d expected them to say they found his body, not that he was alive and in their care. “Oh. Okay. Um, that’s,”
“Unexpected?” The person said, voice tipping with amusement. “He was brought in last week, along with a young girl. If you’ll consider it, she’s highly attached to him.”
Immediately, you nodded. “Of course. I’ve got room for her too.”
“Perfect.” The person said. “You can visit them whenever you want, and we’ll send them out to your care come the weekend.”
“Thank you,” you mumbled absently, putting the phone down and sighing. This was going to be an adventure.
And it was.
Seven months later, Cee was recovered well enough. She’d begun to attend virtual school, slowly growing out of the shell she’d forced herself into. She had nightmares, of course, but she was handling them as best she could. She went to therapy, talked her problems over, and took the prescriptions she’d been given.
Ezra was a whole different story.
On the surface, he seemed okay. He did what he had been told by doctors as well, rubbing a numbing disinfectant on his wounds and sleeping with the help of a machine that regulated his oxygen, trying to reverse some of the damage done to his lungs.
But below the physical, he was at war with himself. That long on the Green without pleasant company did things to the mind. Ezra was jumpy, more so than you’d remembered. Every little noise was a threat to him, turning his face pale and his hand sweaty. He had night terrors, he saw things, his entire body would hurt like crazy, and worst of all, he couldn’t care for himself anymore.
“Ez!” You shouted through the house. “Ez! C’mon, breakfast time!”
Ezra stumbled out of his room, clearly having just woken up. “Huh?”
“Breakfast,” you repeated, sliding a plate with scrambled eggs and a few bites of sausage his way.
He sighed, sitting down and fumbling with his fork. He had been right handed, but now he didn’t have that arm. It was clearly still a struggle for him. He still couldn’t really write, or eat without dropping food, or properly care for his hygiene.
“Cee’s going out today,” you said, putting the breakfast dishes in the sink to do later. “We’ve got the house to ourselves.”
Ezra hummed, focusing on his fork. It was shaky, but he hadn’t spilled anything yet. “Sounds good.”
You sighed, but left him alone to eat.
Twenty minutes later, Cee left, waving at the both of you and smiling to her friends, who were just outside.
“She’s doing well,” you mumbled, crossing out a mistake in your most recent work assignment. “I’m glad she’s making friends.”
Ezra was silent, slowly stabbing the last bite of eggs on his plate. You watched with interest as he ate the bite, looking down at his plate in slight shock, as if he couldn’t believe what he’d done.
He stood, picking his plate up and putting it in the sink. You followed him, grabbing a paper towel and smiling. “Ez,” you said, holding the paper towel up. “You’ve got egg in your beard.”
Ezra smiled, allowing you to wipe egg off his face. “Now darlin’,” he drawled smoothly. “How’s about we have some fun, you and me?”
You laughed. “Ezra,” you murmured, running a hand through his tangled and overly long hair. “Why don’t you go shower, then we can talk about having some fun.”
Ezra left to go bathe, and while he did, you did the dishes. Once they were all done and you’d heard the water shut off in the bathroom, you grabbed a new towel and knocked on the bathroom door. “Ez? I have a towel.”
“Come in.”
You pushed the door open, grinning when you saw Ezra’s left hand poking out from behind the shower curtain. “Thank you kindly. I’ll be out soon.”
You nodded, promising Ezra you’d be waiting for him.
Of course, he fumbled after a few minutes.
As soon as the clattering and the string of loud curses hit you, you were up and running, shoving the door open and seeing a very frustrated Ezra staring at his hand, which had a small cut across the thumb.
“Oh Ez,” you mumbled, opening the medicine cabinet and grabbing some disinfectant and a bandage. “It’s okay Ez.”
Ezra whined, his eyes filling with tears as you methodically cared for his wound.
“Do you need anything else?” You asked, putting away the disinfectant once you were done.
Ezra turned his big brown eyes on you, pleading without words. “I can’t.” He stopped himself, choking on tears. “I can’t.”
You slowly picked the abandoned razor out of the sink, shaking water off it and holding it out. “You can. You just need help.”
He sighed, looking at you and choking on a whimper. “Help.”
“Yeah.” You carefully turned him around, so he was facing the mirror. “Help.”
It was a slow going process, helping Ezra shave. He held the razor in his shaking hand, you holding the hand and keeping him steady enough to shave.
Eventually, you had the Ezra you remembered standing in front of you, with his patchy facial hair and visible smile.
You grinned. “Hello handsome.”
Ezra poked his tongue out at you, setting the razor down and hesitantly picking up a pair of scissors. “My hair too?”
“Aw,” you pouted, taking the scissors from him. “But I like this whole reverse rapunzel thing you got going on,” you said, tugging on the natural blond streak in Ezra’s hair.
He laughed, taking your hand that didn’t have the scissors. “I know, but it’s a damn pain.”
You nodded, picking up a comb. “Alright. Sit.”
Ezra sat down, wrapping his arm around your waist as you combed through his damp hair and began to take chunks off. You warned him that your hack job wasn’t going to look good, and he simply responded with the fact that he didn’t care.
The end product wasn’t bad, in all fairness. It wasn’t great, but Ezra’s hair was back to its old length, which satisfied both of you.
“Hey,” you said, grabbing his hand as he tried to walk away from you. “Y’know you can ask me for help, right? I’m not gonna say no.”
Ezra’s eyes darkened. “I don’t wanna be a bother.”
You shook your head, pulling him close and hugging him tight under the artificial lights of the bathroom. “Oh Ez. Ezra, darling. You could never be a bother. Not to me, not to Cee, not to anyone who loves you. You hear me? We’re here to help you, my love.”
Ezra loosened in your arms, sighing out a huge breath. “You’re amazing, little dove. Y’know that?”
You smiled, pressing a kiss into Ezra’s hand. “I know. So’re you.”
You both ended up on the couch, mindlessly cuddling. Ezra stroked through your hair, slowly putting you to sleep.
“Can you tell me a story?” He finally asked, causing you to look up at him.
“What?”
“A story,” he repeated. “Can you tell me one?”
You nodded, laying your head back on his chest. “Once upon a time, there was a beautiful prince named Ezra.”
Ezra snorted beneath you, but didn’t say anything.
“The prince was born with magical powers, the power to heal the injured. This power stemmed from his beautiful brown hair.” As you spoke, you reached up to scratch through Ezra’s hair, causing him to smile. “But others were jealous of the prince, namely an evil witch who kidnapped baby Ezra and locked him away in a tower. The tower-“
“Babe,” Ezra interrupted. “You’re just retelling rapunzel with me as the princess.”
“And?” You asked, shimmying upwards so you could kiss Ezra’s nose. “You wanted a story.”
Ezra chuckled. “I did. You may proceed.”
You smiled, shifting so you could continue. “Anyway, the tower was covered wall to wall in plants, so many plants that little prince Ezra soon started to call him prison the green. And one day, little prince Ezra wasn’t so little anymore. In fact, he was an adult, begging the witch to let him go, to let him see the world. When she refused, prince Ezra cut a lock of his very special hair, causing it to go white and lose its power. For that, the witch vowed to never let Ezra leave. Ever.”
“Isn’t there supposed to be a prince or princess who comes to save prince Ezra?” Ezra interrupted yet again.
“Ez!” You groaned playfully. “Stop interrupting! I’m getting there.”
Ezra shrugged, but stayed silent so you could continue.
“But, what prince Ezra didn’t know was that a young royal from the neighboring kingdom had been spying on the witch and prince Ezra for a while, and the royal was deeply in love with the prince.”
Ezra sighed, smiling and letting his eyes fall shut.
“This royal would risk it all for prince Ezra, and they did! One day, when the witch left, the royal stood at the base of the tower and called out to the prince. ‘Ezra, Ezra, let down your hair!’ And the prince did. He fell in love with the royal, and they spent many days together while the witch was away. But one day, many months into the secret relationship, the witch caught them. When she saw the royal, she freaked out, yelling and screaming. She tossed the royal out the tower window, and they landed in a bed of thorns at the base of the tower. Ezra, in his despair, jumped out after his beloved.”
You smiled, tracing shapes in Ezra’s shirt, feeling your own eyes grow heavy. “Ezra, horribly injured, cradled the dead body of his lover, surrounded by the thorn plants. Consumed by his grief, he grabbed the dagger off the royal’s belt and shore all his hair off. ‘If this is what life is,’ he declared. ‘Then I wish to live no longer.’ However, at the last second, before the dagger could strike his body, his beloved awoke, healed by the prince’s tears. They rode off into the sunset together, and while the mighty prince Ezra lost an arm that day, he gained something of higher value. A lover for all eternity.”
You yawned, cuddling up to Ezra’s chest and closing your eyes. “The end.”
When Cee came home hours later, she found the pair of you laying on the couch together, tangled in a messy pile of limbs and blankets. Upon further inspection, she realized you were both asleep.
“Those two,” she muttered to herself happily, tossing another blanket overtop you and heading off to do her schoolwork.
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