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#Roof Leak Detection
tulsaroofers · 5 months
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MODERN ROOF LEAK DETECTION TECHNIQUES YOU SHOULD KNOW
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Stay ahead of potential issues with our guide on modern roof leak detection techniques. Learn how to detect roof leaks using innovative methods, including infrared roof leak detection. Our expert insights cover the expertise of roof leak detection specialists and explore effective strategies for identifying and addressing flat roof leaks. Whether you're a homeowner or property manager, understanding how to detect leaks in a roof is crucial. Explore the latest advancements in roof leak detection technology.
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In this article, we will discuss the technology behind leak detectors. Read till the end to know more about it.
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roofingcorpau · 2 years
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With over 25 years of experience in the roofing Sydney industry, here at RoofingCorp we pride ourselves on providing the most reliable & affordable roofing Sydney services.
Website: https://roofingcorp.net.au
Address: 14 Stamford Avenue, Ermington, NSW 2115
Phone Number: 0414 424 878
Contact Mail: [email protected]
Business Hours: Mon - Sat 7:00 am - 7:00 pm Sunday Closed
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bluerainroofing · 2 years
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Hire Experts for Roof Inspection Service in Blue Springs Inspection is the primary roofing service that ensures safety. Moreover, the success of other roofing services depends on it. Just contact a reputable roofing company for the most satisfying inspection. Need this assistance in Blue Springs or its surrounding areas? Contact Blue Rain Roofing & Restoration shortly. For More Information : https://www.bluerainroofing.com/2020/.
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steelrudderroofing · 7 days
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Steel Rudder Roofing, LLC Residential Roofing Services Jacksonville
Reliable Roofing Services for Peace of Mind
At Steel Rudder Roofing, LLC, we provide reliable Roofing Services in Jacksonville that you can trust. Our expert team offers both Residential Roofing Services and Commercial Roofing Solutions, ensuring High Customer Satisfaction through our commitment to quality and professionalism.
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Advantages of Professional Roofing Services
Professional roofing services offer a range of benefits, from enhanced durability to improved energy efficiency. Our Roofing Service Pros use the highest quality materials and the latest installation techniques to ensure your roof performs exceptionally well. Professional services also provide peace of mind, knowing that your roof complies with local building codes and safety standards. Additionally, a well-maintained roof can increase the value and curb appeal of your property, making it a smart investment.
Comprehensive Residential & Commercial Services Our Residential Roofing Services Jacksonville are designed to meet the needs of homeowners, providing solutions that protect and enhance your home. From minor repairs to complete roof replacements, we handle it all with precision and care. For business owners, our Commercial Roofing Solutions offer durable and efficient roofing systems that protect your assets and minimize downtime. Whether you own a small retail store or a large industrial facility, we have the expertise to handle your roofing needs.
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Protecting Your Property
Regular maintenance is essential to protecting your property and extending the life of your roof. Our maintenance services include routine inspections, cleaning, and minor repairs, ensuring that your roof remains in peak condition. Our Roof Leak Detection services quickly identify and resolve leaks, protecting your home or business from water damage. By investing in regular maintenance, you can avoid costly repairs and ensure your roof remains in optimal condition.
Why Steel Rudder Roofing is the Right Choice
Our dedication to providing Professional Service and achieving High Customer Satisfaction sets us apart. We tailor our services to meet the unique needs of each customer, ensuring that every project is completed to the highest standards. From Residential Roofing Services Jacksonville to Commercial Roof Maintenance Jacksonville, Steel Rudder Roofing is your trusted partner for all your roofing needs.
Experience the peace of mind that comes with working with experienced professionals. Contact Steel Rudder Roofing, LLC today for all your roofing needs.
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swrplumbingg · 26 days
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Coburg's Premier Roof Plumbing Services
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Need a reliable roof plumber in Coburg? Look no further than our expert team at SWR Plumbing. We specialize in all aspects of roof plumbing, including leak repairs, guttering, and downpipe services. With our commitment to quality and customer satisfaction, we ensure your roofing system is maintained to the highest standards.
Website:- https://www.swrplumbing.com.au/ Phone:- 0407 175 423 Address:- 3058 coburg, Melbourne, victoria, Australia
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Unveiling the Power of EPDM Rubber Roofing Solutions
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Are you in search of a roofing solution that combines durability, versatility, and cost-effectiveness? Look no further than EPDM Rubber Roofing Solutions. In this guide, we'll explore the world of EPDM roofing solutions, uncovering what sets them apart, why they're gaining popularity, and how they can benefit your property. So, let's dive into the realm of EPDM and discover why it's a top choice for savvy property owners.
Unraveling the Mysteries: What is EPDM Rubber Roofing?
1. An Introduction to EPDM
EPDM, or Ethylene Propylene Diene Monomer, is a synthetic rubber roofing membrane known for its exceptional durability and weather resistance. Originally developed in the 1960s, EPDM has since become one of the most popular roofing materials worldwide, favored for its longevity and ease of installation.
2. The Versatility of EPDM
EPDM rubber roofing is available in various forms, including sheets, rolls, and membranes, making it suitable for a wide range of roofing applications. Whether you're installing a flat roof, low-slope roof, or even a pond liner, EPDM offers versatility and flexibility to accommodate diverse roofing needs.
Exploring the Advantages of EPDM Roofing Solutions
1. Exceptional Durability
EPDM rubber roofing is renowned for its durability, with a typical lifespan of 30 years or more when properly installed and maintained. Its resistance to UV radiation, ozone exposure, and extreme temperatures ensures long-term performance and protection for your property.
2. Cost-Effectiveness
In addition to its durability, EPDM roofing solutions are highly cost-effective, offering a competitive price point compared to other roofing materials. Its long lifespan and minimal maintenance requirements translate to significant cost savings over the life of the roof, making it an economical choice for budget-conscious property owners.
3. Easy Installation and Maintenance
EPDM rubber roofing is relatively easy to install compared to other roofing materials, thanks to its lightweight and flexible nature. Additionally, its seamless design minimizes the risk of leaks and simplifies maintenance, reducing the need for costly repairs and upkeep over time.
Overcoming Common Misconceptions
1. Myth: EPDM is Prone to Damage
Contrary to popular belief, EPDM rubber roofing is highly resistant to damage from environmental factors such as hail, wind, and moisture. Its robust construction and flexibility allow it to withstand harsh weather conditions without compromising performance or integrity.
2. Myth: EPDM Requires Frequent Replacement
While some roofing materials may require frequent replacement due to wear and tear, EPDM rubber roofing is designed to last for decades with minimal maintenance. By investing in EPDM, property owners can enjoy long-term peace of mind and protection without the hassle of frequent replacements.
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Conclusion: Embracing the Power of EPDM
EPDM rubber roofing solutions offer a winning combination of durability, versatility, and cost-effectiveness, making them an ideal choice for property owners seeking reliable protection and long-term value. By harnessing the power of EPDM, you can safeguard your property against the elements and enjoy peace of mind for years to come. So why wait? Discover the benefits of EPDM for yourself and elevate your roofing experience today!
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findleak1300 · 1 year
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Signs Of a Leaking Roof: What to Look Out
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When it comes to the health of your home, nothing is more important than a properly maintained roof. When you see signs of a leaking roof Melbourne or damage, you should take immediate action to avoid major leaks and costly repairs down the road.
Here are some common signs that indicate a leaking roof:
Notices Of Water Damage
Notices of water damage are a sign of a leaking roof. Water damage can be caused by a leaking roof, but it may not be immediately visible. For example, if you have tiles on your ceiling and they start to crack or fall off, this could be a sign that there is an issue with the framing underneath. Which would mean that there is likely some sort of leak somewhere in the house.
If you notice any signs of mould or mildew growing on walls or ceilings, this could also be an indication that there's been some kind of water damage. If you notice that your ceiling is sagging, this could be a sign of a leaky roof.
If you have wallpaper on your walls and notice that it's peeling off in some places. This could also be an indication that there has been some water damage from above (and therefore possibly from a leaky roof).
Water Stains On The Ceiling And Walls
If you see water stains on the ceiling and walls, it's a sign that there is a leak somewhere in your roof. This is an easy way to tell if you have a leaking roof Melbourne without having to climb up there to investigate further.
If you see a water stain on the ceiling and it’s not growing, it might be just a small leak. If it’s growing or has multiple lines down the walls in different directions, then there's a problem with your roof.
Worn-Out Roofing Materials
If you see the following issues with your roof, it's time to replace them:
Shingles curling or missing
 If shingles are curling up or missing from the edges of your roof, this could mean that moisture is getting into them and causing them to deteriorate. You'll want to get these repaired soon as possible so that they don't cause more serious problems later on down the line.
Cracked, split or brittle shingles
 If you notice cracks in any of your current shingles then those are signs that they've reached their end-of-life and need replacing before any further damage occurs.
This could include water damage to the interior of your home, or even leaks in your attic. If you've noticed any signs of damage occurring, reach a roofing contractor immediately before it gets worse.
Drips In The Attic
When water droplets become visible in the attic, it's a clear sign that professional assistance is needed. These drips are often caused by a leaky roof, which, if ignored, can lead to severe structural damage. Acting promptly is crucial to prevent further harm to your home.
Water on the ceiling is another indication of a roof leak, and even small leaks can cause damage over time. Neglecting a leaky roof can result in damage to insulation, electrical systems, and even compromise the structural integrity of the house.
Seeking professional help is essential to accurately diagnose the issue and perform necessary repairs or replacements. Regular roof inspections and maintenance are key to detecting potential issues early on, protecting your home, and maintaining a safe living environment.
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Remember, prevention is always better than cure when it comes to roof leaks. Regular roof inspections and maintenance can help detect potential issues before they escalate into significant problems.
 By addressing leaks promptly, you can safeguard your home, preserve its value, and maintain a safe and comfortable living environment for you and your family.
Mould And Mildew On Exterior Walls
Mould and mildew are a sign of a leaking roof. This is because moisture will collect on the interior surface of your roof, which can cause mould and mildew to grow. If you have mould or mildew on your walls, windows and doors it could be an indication that there's a problem with the roofing system in your home.
Mould can cause serious health problems for people who are sensitive to it. Even those who aren't sensitive may experience symptoms like coughing, headaches or nausea when exposed to large amounts of mould spores in their homes' air supply. Mould also spreads quickly so it's important to remove any visible growth immediately if you see any signs around your house.
It's Time To Call A Professional Roofer
If you see any of these signs in your home, it's time to call a professional roofer.
The ceiling is wet or mouldy.
There are spots on the walls that seem damp, or paint is peeling from the exterior of your house.
Watermarks are visible on the ceiling or walls below the leaky area of your roof.
The roof appears to be sagging or has fallen in some areas.
If you see any of these signs, it's important to call a roofing contractor right away for your leaking roof in Melbourne and get rid of the problem.
The roofing contractor will be able to give you an idea of what needs to be done. If you don't see any signs of problems, it's still a good idea to have your roof inspected once a year by a professional.
Conclusion
In conclusion, recognising the signs of a leaking roof is crucial for every homeowner to ensure timely detection and appropriate action. By being aware of the warning signs such as water stains, mold growth, dampness, and peeling paint, individuals can proactively address roof leaks and prevent further damage to their homes.
Promptly addressing a leaking roof is essential to protect the structural integrity of the property, prevent water damage, and maintain a safe and comfortable living environment. Regular roof inspections, timely repairs, and seeking professional assistance, when needed, are key to mitigating the risks associated with roof leaks.
 By staying vigilant and taking proactive measures, homeowners can safeguard their investments and enjoy a leak-free and secure home. Knowing what signs to look out for, you can protect your property from severe damage.
So, Stop the Drips, Protect Your Home: Expert Solutions for Leak Roofing.
Source: Signs Of a Leaking Roof: What to Look Out
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ammar1995 · 1 year
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At your service for insulators, the best water and thermal roof insulation company, because it is one of the leading companies in the field of roof insulation, which ensures that you get rid of temperatures, water leaks, and raised sounds, through a trained team at the highest level. The company also uses the best insulation materials, technologies and modern methods, so if you need For any kind of insulation services, do not hesitate to contact us to receive our representative. 0553567240
بخدمتك للعوازل أفضل شركة عزل أسطح مائي وحراري وذلك لأنها من الشركات الرائدة في مجال عزل الاسطح والتي تضمن لك التخلص من درجات الحرارة والتسربات المائية والأصوات المترفعة وذلك من خلال فريق عمل مدرب على اعلى مستوى كما تستخدم الشركة أفضل مواد العزل والتقنيات والأساليب الحديثة لذلك إذا كنت بحاجة لأى نوع من خدمات العزل لا تتردد في الأتصال بنا ليصلك مندوبنا.
0553567240
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2-dsimp · 2 months
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Yandere spin-offs (wip)
Introducing the Hero
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(Fem! Reader)
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Synopsis: Featuring the Yandere Hero who happened to coincidentally save you from a potential robbery and became infatuated with you once he discovered that you knew of his true nature.
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Adonis was a hero known by the public as the chivalrous Sunset Knight who protected the people and also kept the evildoers in line with his immense power. But that couldn’t be any further from the truth, as the Sunset Knight was nothing but a sadistic murderer pretending to be an enforcer of justice.
He would frequently use excessive amounts of force when apprehending criminals no matter if the crime being committed was petty or severe all his victims would equally suffer underneath the brutality of his hands that always itches to inflict pain. Almost like a coping mechanism to keep his innermost darkest desires for destruction at bay.
One day when Adonis was off duty in his civilian persona dressed casual with his platinum blonde wavy hair that was covering his eyes. As he happened to walk by and witness a woman getting assaulted by some ruffians looking for a quick buck. He was tempted to ignore the situation entirely as it didn’t concern him one bit. But who was he to turn down a chance to let off some steam by beating some stupid idiots half to death without any consequences since it’ll fall under the category of self defense.
Trying to conceal the bloodlust leaking from his pores he made an effort to appear like the usual outstanding smararian who risked his safety to protect a typical damsel in distress. Before administering some good hands on “disciplinary action” on the poor unfortunate souls who happened to try and mug you.
Suddenly the sound of a picture being taken made him snap out of his tunnel vision haze in a brief moment of shock. And his golden slited pupils roamed the area spotting you with a camera that was pointed at him while he was covered in splotches of the dirty blood of the offenders. But before he could say a single word he saw you vanish like a thief in the night.
This was the first time that Adonis was genuinely at a lost of what to do. Sure he could’ve killed her but that would’ve been too suspicious should a certain detective happen to connect the dots.
Even though he had been spotted indulging in his destructive impluses he was in his civilian persona. So he pondered what exactly that woman was trying to accomplish by taking a picture of a mere stranger who had happened to step in for her when she was in danger.
Until it clicked within his head that somehow she knew who he really was. As her movements were too fluid to be recognized as an mere amateur taking pictures for shits and giggles. Which must mean that the woman he saved had been keeping an eye on his actions for a long period of time.
‘She knows…’
He thought to himself his bloodied hands covering the bottom half of his face in surprise and a certain degree of respect for the boldness this woman he encountered seemed to possess.
‘She knows how I really am and yet she still chooses to stick close to me?’
He couldn’t help but let out a full blown fit of mad laughter at his discovery.
“What a farce haha! I can’t tell if she’s stupid or just doesn’t have a shred of self preservation”
He cackled, before taking a moment to calm his mind wiping off the flecks off blood of his handsome face with their arm sleeve the hero made himself look presentable.
The hero was determined to have fun with his new recent obsession…You
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The Sunset Knight was patrolling the streets wearing his signature knight helmet while the rest of his body was adorned in flexible loose clothing. Leaping from roof to roof he happens to spot a supervillain mutant terrorizing the citizens demanding them to give him back his brethren or else he’d kill them all.
A pretty bland demand as per usual done by petty villains so without breaking a sweat Adonis drop kicked the octopus mutant who was holding multiple hostages within their tentacles one of which happened to be a certain woman that he had been actively searching for ever since their first encounter.
He couldn’t believe his luck as he disregarded all the other hostages that would’ve all probably fell to their potential deaths if not thanks to the minor heros who appeared on the scene right after he knocked out the criminal as the only one he cared about was you.
The Hero swiftly caught you within his arms and couldn’t help the deranged grin that spreader across his face as he finally had the object of his curiosity trapped wriggling defiantly against him in his arms. Which indicated that his hunches were correct, licking his lips like a predator as he looked down at you from behind his helmet.
He couldn’t help but get excited.
Oh how he couldn’t wait to get you home.
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sunsblogs · 8 months
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CADECON - SİLVER
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A roofing company in Richmond can provide a variety of services to ensure your roof is in top condition. One of such services is roof repair and maintenance. Regular maintenance can help extend the life of your roof and prevent costly repairs. A reputable roofing company can detect and fix problems like leaks, cracks, and missing shingles, ensuring your roof remains structurally sound and weatherproof. By investing in regular roof maintenance, homeowners can save money in the long run and eliminate the need to replace the entire roof. Where roof replacement or installation is necessary, a roofing company richmond can provide expert guidance and services. A professional roofing company will work closely with homeowners to determine the best roofing materials and styles to fit their needs and budget. Whether it's asphalt shingles, metal roofing, or shingles, a reputable roofing company can minimize disruption to the homeowner's daily routine by ensuring the new roof is installed correctly and efficiently. In addition to roof repair and replacement, a Richmond roofing company can also provide gutter repair and installation services. Gutters play a critical role in protecting a home's foundation and preventing water damage, making it imperative to keep them in good repair. A professional roofing company can evaluate the condition of your gutters and recommend any necessary repairs or replacements. They can also install new gutters, ensuring they integrate seamlessly into the roof system and effectively divert rainwater away from the home[3]. By investing in gutter repair and installation services, homeowners can protect their homes from water damage and preserve the value of their property[4]. You can visit our website for more information.
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In this blog, we will discuss the essential leak detection practices for architects. Read till the end to know more about it.
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milknhonies · 4 months
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Sir Sherlock Holmes & The Indian Princess
शर्लक बाबू और भारतीय राजकुमारी
Chapter 1 || Masterlist || Chapter 2
Chapter Summary: In England, Sherlock Holmes receives an alarm letter from his dear friend Doctor John Watson. In Delhi, You don't mind being a teacher, but with new building plans, you reflect on your circumstances and opportunities.
Pairing: Sherlock Homes x Desi!reader
Chapter Warnings: 18+ Dead Dove Do Not Eat, Slow burn, generational trauma, colonisation, implied murder, death of a parent, classism & caste.
Word Count: 6k
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Author Notes:
★ Everything written in bold is being said in Hindustani
★The Reader character goes by the last name Newalkar and is the daughter of Damodar Rao Newalkar → the adopted son of Rani Laxmibai. I must advise this story is pure fiction but based in the occupation of the British Raj that invaded and Colonised India.
★I am a White European/Australian woman, I apologise for any cultural or historical inaccuracies. I am receiving help from online sources and desi Tumblr mutual @livesinfantasyland and I heavily encourage other Indian/South Asian/Desi readers to share their thoughts, constructive criticism and help as I write this story.
Inspiring Song: "Paint it Black" by Ciara
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11:35pm Thursday 26th June 1890, 221B Baker Street, Marylebone, Westminster, London, England.
This story begins and ends with the sound of rain.
Tink!
The roof had begun a leak. And when this leak came to play it had a habit of landing directly on the head of a disgruntled and lonely fellow.  The greatest detective in London who could not find a friend. Granted I must inform you, Mr Sherlock Holmes did in fact have some friends, but by misfortunes, none were presently in the country.
Tink!
He angrily sighed. Another drop of rain hit his head.
He launched from his arm chair and grumbling moved an empty teapot to sit on the cushion he previously sat. The drops thus made a small tinkling as they landed inside the empty pot.
Plonk!
He rubbed his eyes and checked the time on the mantle piece clock. He had lost weeks of his life. Hours squeezed down to into unknown days or months, he could not tell. It did not help how he consistently drew the curtains closed to design total darkness other than the fireplace and his candles to light up his home.
A light shiver ran up his spine. The weather was dangerously cold today. His fingertips upon inspection grew from pale white to a dark pink.
Plonk!
He wandered if perhaps it was time to have a holiday in sunny Spain.
A knock on his door broke his imagined vacation like a hammer to glass.
His pesky landlady Mrs Hudson intruded on his stuffy dust filled space. She grumbled nonsense about the filth of her apartment she’s rented out to the famous Detective before handing him a thick envelope.
Plonk!
And the moment he could see and recognised the handwriting he snatched the Letter from her wrinkly fingers and banished her with a bellowing shout. The woman fluttered out and muttered her further disgusts of his treatment.
Plonk!
But Sherlock did not care for her opinion or rather anyone’s for that matter, Sherlock only cares about the stamp he tore opened the parchment he eagerly unfolded.
John Watson. Doctor, soldier and dear friend. He was Sherlock’s greatest companion to note. He had never felt such brotherly love until he met the very man seeking a roommate here in baker street.
Doctor and detective used to comb London for clues to solve crimes and very noticeably took an interest at the sports of pleasure. The luxurious brothels of London welcomed him and his friend with open arms and spread legs. Doctor Watson was the easy victim of sex while Sherlock was one to enjoy his opium pipe and watch his friend succumb to the mouths of half-pound harlots.
And among these adventures of interesting women did the doctor find himself in a savage tussle with another jealous male patron...
Sherlock recalled the evening with mirth. His dear friend, brother in arms had been pummelled to a pulp and drunk as a daisy. So when Sherlock escorted him to a hospital, the imbecile had declared that he was doctor of the ward and did not need any stitches. It is a grand thing perhaps Doctor Watson could not fathom the memory of yelling too proudly that his medicine could be only found in the elixir of a woman’s warm cunny.
His nurse, a dirty bird at heart had giggled at this...that nurses name was Mary Mortenson. And she became the very enamoured Mrs Mary Watson.
Sherlock was not fond of his friend becoming so besotted with his bride. He tolerated the woman’s presences at best. Unspokenly, the detective saw competition to gain the doctors attention and it was becoming far too obvious that Mrs Watson would win. Every. Single. Time.
After a month of young love the married pair had decided their honey-moon should be experienced back in John’s birth land...Delhi, a city in India. Mary was to meet the senior Mr and Mrs Watson. Coincidently, the English rose was not averse to the foreign lands…she so happened to have been born in Agra. Happy and married, they boarded and sailed across the sea.
Sherlock had high hopes their ship would run scarce of supplies so they might return quickly. He missed his dear friend and even his annoying wife.
The letter in between if thumbs and fingers were the first words from them he had gotten in nearly three months. The letter read as followed...
“Dear Sherlock,
Mary and I have come to my home I grew up in as a boy. I was blessed with my parents merry welcome. However, unfortunate circumstances have designed two coffins. For merely a week into our visit my beloved parents have passed. I have yet to decide whether to bury them in the English tradition or burn them in the Hindi ritual. My predicted return back to Baker Street may appear futile and non-existent. Please. Come visit us as soon as it is convenient.
13, 25, 27, 16, 1, 18, 5, 14, 20, 19, 27, 8, 23, 5, 27, 2, 5, 5, 14, 27, 13, 21, 18, 4, 5, 18, 5, 4.
Your sincere faithful friend, Doctor John H. Watson.”
Plonk!
Sherlock’s eyes raced over the page, and cupped his mouth staring at the plethora of numbers. They were not any numbers. John was a simple man, he wasn’t the smartest being but Sherlock appreciated his humble attitudes, he liked the doctor admitting he wasn’t a world genius, just a man who knew his medicines.
So when an enigmatic set of numbers was written at random Sherlock thought of the most simplistic cypher.
For every number was a letter. 1 being A and 26 being Z, leaving 27 to be a space between a word.
His brows lifted. The message was clear and alarming.
Plonk!
“My Parents Have Been Murdered.”
He determined his dear doctor had written this cryptic message under the desire of secrecy. His eyes lit up. It meant John needed Sherlock’s help. A case. Something was amiss. John did not know the killers name. If he did, he would’ve written it or not bothered to write asking Sherlock to visit at all.
He couldn’t have run faster to his rooms to start backing as soon as possible.
Plonk!
Sherlock Holmes had know idea what he was going to find in a land he had only heard stories from Watson’s childhood. He was eager to see his friend, to help him and to finally have an adventure.
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01:35pm Friday 11th July 1890, Anglo Arabic Secondary School, Desh Bandhu Gupta Rd, Ajmeri Gate, Delhi.
You dragged the piece of white chalk across a black board and sketched a simple phrase in the English language. You smiled to the young faces that filled the room, sitting in long benches and desks. Their eyes wide and curious, eager to learn.
You waved your hands, “Now, clean your chalk slates students, you are going to learn how to spell good afternoon in English.”
They wipe them down with their small damp clothes and tucked them away in the groove at the top of their slanted desk. You waited patiently until they all sat with their hands resting flat on the wooden desks, mouths shut, eyes seeking knowledge.
You underlined each letter of the first word, “Gee, ouw, ouw, dee, this spells ‘Good’ and now ‘Afternoon’ is Aya, eff, tee, Ee, Ara, eynnn, ouw, ouw, eynn.”
The young boys sounded it out with you. Their sweet pubescent voices unionised. You smiled. They were so advanced at such a young age, most of the boys had come from average and wealthy families that could afford them to come to such a fine school. Many were Muslim, others Hindu, it was a good sign of peace. The youth coming together despite their differences. And on odd days you would teach the white children, boys and girls of British and French families who wanted their children to learn Hindi, Arabic and Urdu.
You didn’t mind teaching white children, some of the boys could be very disrespectful but you gathered it was behaviour picked up from their arrogant fathers. It wasn’t the young boys who had pillaged these lands, it was their fathers and grandfathers.
“The gee,” you circled the G, “Remember in English is also pronounced like Guh and,” you tapped the double o’s, “Ouw ouw in english together when two is said ‘oooowa’. Followed by dee being said as Dah. So, let’s say it together?”
You dragged a white line under the word and sounded it out with your students.
“Guh-oooow-dah.”
You smiled.
You repeated, “Good.”
“Now let’s look at the word ‘afternoon’,” you announced.
You cleaned the board and looked back at your students. One of the little boys who sat in the front was rubbing his eyes. You smiled softly. He was only six years old. His older brother, a young man now would most likely be the one to collect his brother from school and carry him sleeping back home. You looked at the bell tower just outside the window. It was nearly time for your students to go home and you to return back to your lodgings.
“Aye and eff is said as AAaff, then tee is a quick Tuh! And what is Ee and Arrra sound together children?”
“Errr,” they all purred.
You sounded out half of the word with them, “Aafftuherrr.”
You rubbed your chalk dust covered fingers together and further explained as you pointed to each important letter, “eynnn makes a Na, sound. And we just practiced double ouw, so sound it out.”
Like a symphony of speech, you all said together, “Guh-oooow-dah Aafftuherrr, Na-ooow-na. Good Afternoon.”
The deep bowing clang of the bells outside rang through the yard and open window shutters. The children looked eager to leave. Their hands were readily holding their slates, ready to put them inside the empty wooden box in the corner of the classroom where they kept all their slates and dusters and the bucket for where they kept their chalk.
“Good afternoon students,” You bided.
“Good afternoon Teacher Madam,” They called back.
“You may go back home now. Practise your English alphabet song.”
The boys were fast as rabbits, leaping from their desks and fleeing the classroom out the hall and down the stairs. But some at least saluted you as they left. It was a habit they’d picked up from the white boys who saluted their male teachers. You smiled to yourself as you waved them out. Each left with beaming smiles and playful chatter among themselves.
As you went about sweeping the floor after wiping the chalk from the board, you wondered if you should go to the temple and pray for your students successful education or if you should consider washing your clothing today. It had been very dry today, any moment and you knew the wet season and humid rain would arrive to flood the streets clean of dust and fill the forests with life of green goodness.
As you put away the English education books on the small shelves by the door, a familiar face came rushing in, flushed and excited
If it wasn’t her jingling anklet and bangle that announced her To your classroom, it was her shrill cry of your name that did.  
“Y/N! Quick!” Miss Anjuli Paraiyars exclaimed, “You need to come with me.”
Her dark ink hair was peaking out from her sun patterned veil. The wispy curls stuck to her sweaty forehead and framed her dazzling walnut eyes. They were flooded with mischief that matched her biting lip. Her brows wriggled lightly.
Placing the last book onto the shelf you turned to acknowledge your dear friend.
“Anjuli,” you happily sighed, “Whatever is the matter?”
She waved her hands about, hoping to quicken you along and out the door, “It is the Watson son, Doctor Watson, he wants to speak with you with important news.”
Your eyes widened. ‘What on earth does that poor soul wish to say to me? After the death of the good Mr and Mrs Watson, I would assume he was still in mourning, why would he call upon me?’
Following your friend outside into the scorching sun, you lifted your saree over your head. She had her family Ox and cart waiting outside the school gates.
“What important news Anjuli?” You said a little standoffishly.
“He’s offering you a job,” She said giddily. She climbed up into the cart and leant down offering her hand to you.  Once in the cart side by side she sighed, “That’s all he would tell me,” She grabbed the reigns and cane and tapped the Ox to start moving out onto the dirt road, “But we all know how very generous he can be like his dear parents.”
Anjuli was right. The late Victoria and Hamish Watson’s were angelic to the local community. Victoria had been the very soul to teach your late mother English and she was the one to encourage you to attain education enough to become one of the very few first female Indian teachers. She was a well known philanthropist, often aiding the sick and homeless and funding the Indian hospitals. Hamish was a local accountant, financial advisor and lawyer. He was known to be good to the children particularly. He would often hand out sweets as he walked down the street with his briefcase bag. He often aided the locals find new homes when the British planned to evict them and replace white families in their place. The English couple had lived in the country for many decades, long before you were even born. They spoke fluently enough and mimicked the culture so well that you could’ve believed they were born here themselves.
You sat back and nodded, “May their souls attain moksha.”
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02:45pm Friday 11th July 1890, Willingdon Crescent, Central Ridge Forest, Delhi, India.
The sun baked down on the streets of Dehli. The Ox cart rolled along, it’s tail flicking the flies circling it’s flank every so often.
You pinches your saree scarf and covered your face before a bug could fly into your mouth.
Anjuli had to hold the reigns and cane, she leant closer to you and giggled as she nodded to the khaki covered soldiers. Walking by in many small groups.
Anjuli had a terrible habit, she fell in love too easily. For some ungodly reason Anjuli admired the foreigners that had come so long ago and invaded your beautiful country. Maybe she liked how different they looked. The flaxen hair and ice blue gazes in the faces of pale freaks were so opposite to the raven manes and hairy russet warmth of Indian men. It was erotic for her. You just didn't understand how she could so easily find infatuation with the people you considered an enemy, and so should she.
“Oh look at them,” she giggled girlishly.
You rolled your eyes, “I’m looking.” There was a timid strain in your voice. You had no real interest to entertain Anjuli’s fascination.
When Anjuli noticed how you in fact we’re not looking but rather looking ahead on the road path she playfully smacked your arm.
“Look!” She sucked her teeth and teasingly scolded, “Do you not know delight at the sight of men?” She reached forward and abruptly touched the front of your blouse, squeezing around for the softness of your breasts, “Are you sure you’re a full grown woman?” she smiled wickedly and prodded her finger in between your legs covered by your top petticoat.
You squeaked loudly and batted her hand. She howled with laughter and kept giggling even as you scowled at her beneath your veil.
You turned your head away from her and scoffed, “I am not as easily swayed by British soldiers. They look so sickly as pale as they are,” your nose wrinkled, “How could I righteously take a husband in front of beloved Lakshmi and her Vishnu when they look like they tempt Yama too take them at any moment?”
Your friend rolled her eyes, “Oh nonsense,” she tapped your hand and waved her fingers into a crowd of soldiers, “See there that one, his hair the colour of wheat, he is a handsome man. He would make a fine husband.”
And as the cart rolled passed, you couldn’t help gag at the smell of the same man Anjuli proclaimed would make a fine husband.
‘A fine swine perhaps. Many sow in heat could come trotting to him from miles with such a putrid scent.’
Your head wobbled and your flat palm waved at her, “A husbands good qualities are not to stand on his appearance alone. One day he will grow old, fat, bald and ugly.”
A long dragging sigh came out from the woman beside you. She managed to move both reigns into one hand and playfully tugged your saree away from your face
“You’re no fun, come on,” she jerked her chin out to the same street as the ox was about to pass another group, “Tell me you don’t find any of them a little attractive?”
You stared at the oncoming group and now sucked your teeth. You crudely stated, “They’d be far more attractive if they left. Went back to their lands, leave our villages and the people of Bharat in peace.”
Anjuli stared blankly at you. Before she could pinch and prod you again you relented and noticed one of the men in the crowd so different from the others.
He was tall, his hair a dark chestnut that matched the shade of his suit. His face was bare and clean in comparison to the soldiers who all adorned moustaches and muttonchop beards on their faces. He was carrying a rather large brief case and walking stick.
“Fine...that one,” you nodded, “In the brown English clothes.”
“The one wearing a suit?” Anjuli snickered, “He’s not a soldier though?”
You giggled,“And it is for such a reason I find he is most handsome among them.”
You both gazed at him as the ox fully passed by. Anjuli smiled at you.
“He is rather tall. Strong. What do you think he does?” She asked, “Maybe he is a farmer, or a bricklayer?”
You shook your head. ‘No. He couldn’t be.’
“He dresses too finely. It is not their Christian Sunday Sabbath today. He probably is a rich businessman, with a wife and children.”
You looked back to the path as the dusty road became thicker in trees and travel further away from the street. You thought about that strangers wife, what she might look like, probably some English rose with a house full of servants at her command, surrounded by maids and wet nurses for her children. She would live in a grand house and hold soiree’s, welcoming guests from all around to celebrate life. She would have a massive library and a place of worship. It was the life you should’ve had, the life you were owed and denied merely by the changing events of history and the extinguish of your father’s birthright.
Your soft smile faded; you felt a twinge of repulsion mixed with a hint of anger. You’d think after all these years you would’ve chosen to forget this, ignore this, let go and accept your circumstances in this life.... You didn’t live with your father anymore who would remind you practically daily why not to trust the English or any white man, as if you didn’t witness their subjecting abuse and consistent disrespect.
Your eyes fluttered shut, you reached to your side and touched Anjuli’s wrist. She was your truest friend despite her differences and low status. Anjuli came from a Shudra family, and you? You were the daughter, the descendant of Brahims and Kshatriyas...now lowered to the Shudra caste class…You never knew the lavish life of the Jhansi palace, nor tasted the rich foods served on golden plates and surrounded by pretty creatures of the palace menagerie. You would never know the joys of running through the gardens with other children in the royal family.
Everyone was gone, everything was gone. All that was left was your father who scarcely remembered that life but shared all he remembered so his memories would live on through you and bring you hope that one day it would be yours. It was a cruel false hope…
Eighteen years ago, you had been born inside of a nice house in Indore to the daughter of a prestige painter Vasudeoraobhau Bhatavdekar. As far as you knew, your father loved your mother very much for the incredibly brief time that they were married. A rare jewel in beauty is how he described her often. A marriage of love and choice. Your father said she was softly spoken and obedient, but it was her unconditional love for him and his dreams that held his heart in appreciation.
It was by unfortunate command that she would fall ill to childbed fevers after you were born. After you…a girl...not a son. You were nothing in the eyes of the British raj and had no chance of being installed as an heir for any restoration…you were the last hope and failed before your first breath. And that was something you’d never forget.
For a small time, you were raised in that home and then it was decided by your father that you would learn English. His tutors were not available, so he cut your hair short and shipped you off to Delhi with your young uncle Save to the Anglo Arabic Secondary School…It did not take the teachers and headmaster long to discover you were a girl. Before you were to receive the beating of a lifetime it was Mr Hamish Watson who so happened to be accounting the school costs to save you. He took you to his wife who taught you English and then set you to live with his maid servants, Anjuli’s mother.
Your friend spoke after some time of silence, “Oh, I’m meant to tell you- My cousin Vijay sent word this morning, he’s seeking a wife. My mother wants me to ask if you’d like to meet him, a prospective match.”
Your lips curled into a sneer, “Isn’t he the one that use to tie our braids together in a knot during Diwali and chase us around the street making animal noises?”
You recalled a young teenage boy about five years your senior with a tooth gap and ruffled hair. He was so annoying, calling you names and bullying you by calling you fat and ugly. He was spoilt and rude. He mocked you when you told him you were a princess. He said you were a princess of pimple pox and nothing more. Oh how you remembered the way your blood boiled.
“We were children, he was playing, only a boy,” she smiled, “He’s a man now, studying to be a barrister in Bombay but he will be visiting in a few weeks to help us move.”
Ah yes, the dilemma you needed to find a solution too soon. It was a month ago that a letter had been nailed to the house door, it was an eviction commandment made by the British military and government. The Paraiyars family and you had to leave the home in Raisina hill, why? Because the British do what they like…building concrete monstrosities over beautiful land and demolishing the history of your people like it was worthless dust. Rumours spread about a grand governors palace was to be built there, but they couldn’t burn the village to ash with people living inside...well....at least not on their "morally good Christian conscious."
“Vijay I believe owns a cottage near the seaside. You could be his bride and live with him instead of moving back to Indore to your father.”
Moving back was not possible...not after his most recent letter.
“Father has…felt it improper for me to move back to Indore. He believes that my existence would cause me more harm than good under his jailers’ eyes…His pension he shares I give mostly to your mother for board. I have saved my wages, I am considering…moving to a boarding workhouse in Jhansi or Agra, but tell your mother I would like to greet Vijay when he arrives…”
You smirked looking down at your fingernails, “Lakshmi forbid I run out of money and need to resort to the ‘charity’ of Christians or to prostitution.”
Anjuli made a face, shaking her head and brushed her shoulder into yours, “You wrinkle your nose at every man, white, black or bronze,” she smiled cheekily, “I doubt you’d make a good prostitute.”
“Anjuli!” You shrieked.
Both you and her erupted into a large happy shrill of giggles enough to gain head turns from passing public. You and her playfully poked your elbows into each other. Anjuli was right, there was no chance that you could make a suitable prostitute…you hadn’t had sex and didn’t know how to please a man, most men you barely liked. They could be selfish. Anjuli on the other hand, she was a frisky thing. She had kissed a hundred men and given her ‘precious flower’ to a boy back when she was thirteen. She had no shame. Anjuli had shared her sordid tales of lust to you many times. You knew her boyfriends that snuck her out at night and returned her by morning. You promised never to tell her mother or father who surely would’ve disowned her if they knew how promiscuous she was. It was best if they believed she made money with her parents in the markets selling dyed clothes and wooden jewellery boxes.
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03:04pm Friday 11th July 1890, 5 Bistdari Road, Central Ridge Forest, Delhi, India.
Arriving to the Watson Bungalow was simple enough, the ox cart rolled and bumped over the rock and sandy grooves of the path. Anjuli pulled the reigns of her beast and helped you both down. She tied her ox to the outside gate posts, the precious creature lowered its head and munched on dry grass that still was hinted in green. The ox would be glad as soon the wet season would hit and all the food delight lush and green would return.
You and Anjuli stepped inside and removed your sandals, Anjuli then led you through the house. It had been some time since you had been here. Anjuli’s mother was dismissed as Mrs Victoria Watson’s maid when the new Watson bride had arrived.
Doctor Watson, their son was a short ferrety man. His face was covered in a long mutton mustache like a snake of hair slithering along his face. He was a grown man from the teenager you had met many years ago. His parents had sent him to Europe to school, as far as you were aware he had join the army and fought in some notorious war battles like The of Battle of Abu Klea.
As you entered the bureau office, you found him hunched over some paperwork, his brows scrunched. His eyes lifted up and brightened his face on seeing you both.
“Oh Miss Paraiyars, Anjuli dear,” he said clapping his hands and opening a drawer in his desk, “Thank you so much dear for bringing darling Miss Newalkar here. Here,” he handed Anjuli a small bag and slipped four rupees into her hand, “and take these sweets back to your Mataji, Mrs Paraiyars.”
Anjuli put her hands together and smiled, wobbling her head before leaving you alone to return outside back to her ox cart.
You had your hands pressed together peacefully while the doctor hobbled over to you from around the desk. He was smiling brightly and nodded his head to you, offering you a chair in front of the desk.
“Y/N thankyou for coming on such short notice. I requested your presence in person to offer you a job position.”
Your smile fell, you sheepishly explained to the man, “I am currently employed at the Anglo school Doctor, Babu.”
The doctor nodded, “Yes…Anjuli tells me you are still teaching the children English and Hindi?”
“Yes Doctor Babu,” you confirmed.
“How much are you paid per month?” he asked quickly, touching his lips lightly in thought.
“Twenty five rupees,” you said softly, you didn’t dare try to sound prideful.
The doctor smiled and pulled out a piece paper contract, he then stated, “I will pay you a hundred per month.”
Your eyes widened, and then narrowed. It was too spectacular to be true, it sounded Impossible. Your fathers pension was only a hundred and fifty rupees a year, for the doctor to give you a hundred per month was unfathomable wealth. What on earth was he wanting from you!?
“What is the position,” you swallowed breathlessly, “Doctor Babu?”
“Housekeeper and…a carer,” he sighed, “I need you to live here, and watch over one of my friends. He is from England and I am afraid he might not understand the customs here.”
He leant against the desk cocking his head and looking down at his feet awkwardly. “Please,” he begged, “he is different to other men. He is particular and perhaps rather spoilt. I need you to make sure he doesn’t get lost, harmed or too upset. It is pressing that I should return to my wife in Agra. I would have hired Mrs Paraiyars, in fact I did offer this role to her, but I have been informed she will be moving and her English is not as it once was…and my English friend is rather…particular and impatient with broken speech...”
He wrote a signature across the bottom of the document and held it out for you to read. It was real…your mouth watered. You could save more than your regular wage and easily move back to Indore without burdening your father or mother’s family.  
“If you accept my offer, you may live here as a free lodging, you recall where the servant quarters are I am sure? You will also receive a handsome budget for food. And-” he paused looking up and pocketing the cheque, he gasped, “Sherlock! Dear god man! Did you walk here from the train station?!”
You turned around in the chair and took in the sight of a familiar looking soul.
He was the gentleman from the road. The supposed businessman with his briefcase. He was taller standing here with you then when you sat above in the ox cart. He was standing in the doorway to the office. He stepped inside and lowered his walking stick and briefcase.
“My friend,” the handsome stranger gleefully called, “My dear John Watson, I came the moment I read your message. One of the khaki coated lads pointed me here.”
Up close now you could observe his features on a better judgement. Sherlock Holmes was well known in the British gazette for his distinct physical appearance. With his broad angular frame, sharp hard features, and mighty frame, he exuded a striking and intimidating aura that commanded respect. He reminded you of warriors you imagined before bed in story's of battles your father described at Jhansi Fort.
His face was marked by a strong, sharp pointed nose and intense, deep-set sapphire eyes. His hair was kept combed and short below his ears short and slicked back, revealing his angular eyebrows, and his pink lips that were tightly pursed. He wore a grand brown suit coat with a crisp white shirt, and woolen sweater vest beneath it. And at the base of his throat was a dark burgundy tie. Something about the time reminded you of blood. A cut throat. You felt cold.
His eyes smoothly shifted to you and your presence, his lips parted softly, he glanced back at John, “A patient of yours Doctor?”
The moustached man bristled and shook his head, he stuttered and leant his hand out to you. you carefully chose to take it and rise from the chair as he introduced you.
“Oh- I- Sherlock…um, Sherlock Holmes, I would like you to meet Miss Y/N Newalkar.”
“Miss Newalkar,” the doctor waved his hand over the figure of the giant stock of a man, “This is the very gentleman I was informing you about. This is my friend Detective Sherlock Holmes.”
You pressed your hands together and nodded in greeting. One of Sherlock’s brows raised and his lips hardened in a straight line.
Doctor Watson explained back to the detective, “I was in the middle of discussing whether this dear lady would like to accept a role of housekeeping during your stay here.”
“Whatever for?” Sherlock snickered, “Is your lady wife not up to par with her duties?” he shoved his hands into his pockets and rocked on his leather shoes while his eyes scanned all the way down to your bare feet. It was a crude look of judgement. The westerner seemed to forget not everyone shared the same styles and habits here. You tried not to roll your eyes at him as he scanned your arms and the parts of your belly that the saree did not cover.  Those dark blue orbs crawled up and settled over your faux sweetened smiling face.
“Some…plans have come up unexpectedly. Mary is back in Agra, staying safe with her family,” John stated, his fingers rubbed together, “I need to be with her. And the hospitals are in desire of my services as a surgeon. I ask that you will look around, see if you can find anything here…” he leant in closer and whispered to the man, “I will visit every couple of days, to check up on you and see if there is truth to be founded in my suspicions.”
'Suspicions?'
“John…” the detective pat his friends shoulder, “I am happy to see you. I promise I will do my very best.”
“Thankyou,” said the doctor.
Sherlock jerked his chin to your direction, “How much does the dear girl here know?”
“Well, I…not much,” the doctor blushed and looked back to you, “Miss Newalkar, your thoughts on the job position role?”
You swallowed and nodded slowly, “I accept the conditions, thankyou for your most gracious offering, Doctor Babu.”
The doctor smiled and carefully touched your back, leading you to the exist of his office as he happily stated.
“Splendid! Please, this is the contract. Sign it and return with your belongings later on a few hours while I converse with my friend and guest.”
You looked back at the mysterious Sherlock Holmes and back to the contract. You wobbled your head in goodbye and went on your way. The way you could feel his eyes over your body walking away made you shiver. He was a intimidateding looking man. You left the home and slipped your sandals on.
You thought about how you would now be the housekeeper of a prestigious British family in the community. A wave of relief to your stability washed over you. You didn’t need to crawl to your father and your mother’s family. You started smiling ear to ear. All you needed to do was take care of a house and baby-sit an Englishman who was vulnerable to these new lands.
“Did you see him go in?” Anjuli smirked from the ox cart, waving you over, “The British man you fancied?”
You jerked your chin up proudly exclaiming, “I met him.”
Your friend gasped with a wide smile, “What is he like?”
“I don’t really know,” you shrugged before waving the contract in front of your friends face, “but I am going to be his housekeeper, I need to inform the school of my resignation.”
Anjuli looked at the contract, she couldn't read english but made a light sad sound and sucked her teeth before sighing, “Oh, those children will miss you dearly.”
And that you could both agree. You grabbed the ox reigns and tapped its flank with the cane rolling back to the school again quickly to collect your last wage.
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Helplines:
If you are a victim of sexual abuse, assault or domestic violence or know someone who is please reach out to these links that share helpline services, phone numbers or emails. Consent and respect is important in every relationship whether between friends, family or even strangers.
Australian Helpline Services
UK Helpline Services
American Helpline Services
India Helpline Services.
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steelrudderroofing · 18 days
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softshuji · 11 months
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It's late when Sanzu's call connects.
His voice doesn't burst onto the speaker this time, doesn't ring out with a clear and tinkly laugh that'll have your blood warming on instinct. It's quiet when he says 'hey pretty thing' and you know he's tired, subdued, exhausted even, that the long days in your absence are catching up to him, even if he'll pretend like the opposite is true.
There is a second of silence, his voice hanging in the air, some three thousand miles away, protected and cushioned by the safety of the end to end encrypted call. You wish it weren't the case, that he wasn't flopping onto a hotel bed so far away, the ache of your distance still so fresh, a clean cut across his lungs that has his chest tightening. He tries, you know this, you sense it in his voice sometimes, on days like today, where the scent of you doesn't linger on his pillows in the way he likes, the spill of your hair between his rough fingers, that he's tired, that he's exhausting with trying in general.
You love him for it anyway, all the effort, all the time, commitment that you're not sure he's ever shown to anyone that wasn't Mikey. Does it give you a sense of pride to be so completely devoted to? To say no would be a lie and you can't pretend you don't enjoy the pearly shine of his jadeite eyes when he bends to press a kiss to the inside of your wrist, the inside of your ankles when they're over his shoulders, long and slow, sensual bites that trail from your calves to your thighs.
'Hi Baby,' you say, and roll over, taking the sheets with you, to his side of the bed where the indent of his body is pressed to the mattress, as if it remembers him just as much as you do. You put your cheek to the pillow, a strong inhale that settles in your lungs, nicotine and leather, gunpowder and metal and the spark of fire that clings to the fabric as eagerly as it clings to his skin. 'I missed you today.'
'I missed you too Pretty thing,' he says, the phone held between his ear and his shoulder as he uncuffs his sleeves, red turning to brown on the now off-white shirt that he tosses somewhere on the other side of the room. He won't say it, but you detect a yawn somewhere in there, a half-hearted sigh that has his shoulder sagging, the milky white of his tantalising chest that deflates with the fatigue leaking from his bones. 'I thought you'd be asleep by now.'
'Mhm, I was going to but I had something I wanted to talk to you about.'
He stiffens, in a way he can't help, and he hates that the tension creeps so easily into his skin, pinpricks of anxiety that have the breath stolen from his lungs. He knows he can't be there, he knows he's where he should be, but it never helps, that the simple fact is that he misses you and it sickens him, has him writhing in his sheets and reaching for his phone to hear you.
He coughs, a sniff that resonates through the encryption of the call. 'Oh yeah? Everything okay?' The shake of his voice is not lost on you and it aches, your hands twitching with the need to touch, to soothe, to run over the sharp edges of him.
'Mhm, yeah it's okay I just- I have a surprise for you. I was going to wait till you got back but-'
'...but?'
Your mouth is heavy, leaden, and your tongue clings to the roof, your teeth sticky and coated with a thin film of apprehension, anxiety, love and need all rolled together. You take a breath, and it feels like you're starving for air, the thin and cloying scent of him still buried in your lungs, your thighs rubbing together with the memory of the taste of him.
'-but it's your birthday so I thought...'
He blinks and a glance at the clock tells him it's gone 12, the clockface illuminated by the splash of white moonlight falling through the window, the sharp and luminous curls of light kissing at his exposed chest where the purple is now fading to yellow on his ivory skin.
'You're really drawing it out aren't you Princess?'
Despite yourself and the obvious tension, you laugh aloud, the sound muffled by your lips to his pillow, your nose to the duvet where the threads hold the leathery smell of him and his chest tightens with the sound, carefree and buttery, light and warm.
'Sorry- sorry, I'm just teasing you Haru.' You take a breath, your eyes fixed on a stray pink hair curling along the pillow, nestled safely between the mattress and the blanket. Then you're exhaling and the knowledge comes easy when you whisper against the receiver, 'hey haru, I think, you're going to be a dad.'
There is a terse silence that stretches then, a long beat of apprehension, broken only by the sound of his breath, the occasional shuffle of you in the bed, a crackle where the reception cuts and creases.
'H-Haru? Are you there?' you whisper, the heady rush and taste of love spilling into your throat.
His voice cracks, splits halfway down the middle and he clears his throat, forcefully, the ache in his stomach climbing along his chest, a hand seized around his heart and squeezing. 'You- you're pregnant?' he says it slowly, as if testing the words, as if they taste foreign to him, thick and heavy and unusual on his tongue.
'I...y-yeah maybe, I think so. I've only taken the test but- we- we can see a Doctor when you come back,' you say, the fabric bunched in your hands, the knowledge of your secret now crashing between you. 'I didn't want to wait.'
'Oh.' There is a lump forming in his throat, a stone that's turning and growing at the back of his tongue and he thinks and wonders if he'll cry, if the knowledge is too much to bear, more than he deserves, with someone he's hardly worth of in the first place. It's heavy, this impending event, the weight of it is zipping through his chest, along the blood in his veins. It feels like pain, like hurt, like a love that aches in his heart.
'Are...you okay? I'm sorry, maybe I should have just wait-'
'Pretty thing?'
'Yeah?'
'I love you.'
It spills out faster than he's able to stop, and it feels good, a little euphoric, a little painful and soothing at the same time when he senses your lips curve into a smile on the other end, a shy and embarrassed 'I love you too Haru,' that has the ends of his lips curving into the beginnings of a smile. There is fear somewhere here, somewhere in his skin, a gravity that tells him he's made a mistake, that this impending event can only mean pain for either of you. No, he doesn't think he has what it takes to be a Father, and yet, the cold and bleak edge of him is a little warmed by the thought.
'I- I'm- we're having a baby...' he says, out loud, a statement and a question tied together, his pupils heavy and sluggish, his head pulsing with a love so big and beautiful that he thinks it might eat him, might pull him by his legs to drown in.
You laugh, uncertainty, love, warmth that feels like honey to him, like the sun on his skin when you say 'y-yeah, yeah we're having a baby Haru.' He hears you sniffle, the scratchy crackle of you standing to find a tissue and then settling back into bed.
But it hurts a little less, and feels a little better when you say 'Happy Birthday Haru.'
And it is.
reblogs appreciated!
happy birthday favourite pink baby boy <3
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