#If someone has an image of that moment send it to me please and thankyou I love you

[kakusu-shipping]

For the domestic hc asks: 10, 15, 20 for mariocest?

Anon I mwah mwah mwah mwah mwah Love you thankyou SO much for the ask

Asks from Here

10. What do they do when the other is away?

Keep busy mostly. Luigi does a lot of house work when Mario's off on adventures, and Mario takes any odd job he can get ahold of when Luigi travels.

Luigi handles his alone time a lot better than Mario. Mario gets a lot more fidgety when left to his own devices, anxious and depressed all on his own. If he can't find something to work on or do to be helpful he tends to just. Sleep a lot. Order pizza and sleep in.

He doesn't like it when Luigi's away.

15. What do they do when their partner is sick?

I think the Mario Bros both have stupid strong immune systems. The kinda guys who've only been "can't leave the house" levels of sick twice in their lives.

If Luigi's sick, Mario joins him in a lock down, only leaving the house to grab any prescription Luigi might need. He orders in Pizza and sets himself and Luigi up on the couch with blankets and tissues and whatever else he might need. He won't leave his brother's side for more then 5 minutes at a time.

If Mario's sick, Luigi has to physically fight him for the rights to take care of him. Mario does not take sick days. Luigi spends a lot of Mario's sick day just fighting him to lay down, take his medicine, stay still, just relax Bro. The easiest part of the process is getting him to eat at least. No stomach bug could keep Mario from a homemade Luigi meal.

Most likely though they'd be sick at the same time and need someone else to take care of them both. Keeping a Sick Mario from taking care of Sick Luigi would be a job all on it's own.

20. What is the first thing they say/do in the morning?

Mario is not a morning person.

Luigi is though. Loves to wake up in the morning. Loves to wake Mario up with a soft kiss and a hot mug of coffee. Loves to grab a shower right after waking up.

Mario in return, after lazing in bed with his mug, makes himself and Luigi breakfast. Something sweet like waffles with enough syrup to drown an elephant for Luigi, and something lighter like a banana sandwich for himself. Unless he has nothing to do that day, then he's making some breakfast meat. Sausage and Country Ham and Biscuits and Gravy.

#Mariocest #Thankyou for asking #Augh cute guys being cute!!!!!!!!! And in love!!!! #I love thinking domestically I really do the GREATEST past time is Domestic Shipping #They are just a couple guys living together and in love #Soft kiss and a hot cup of coffee in the morning my beloved #I really did want to use an image of Luigi handing Mario his mug from the Mario movie #BUT NO ONE'S UPLOADED IT YET #At least no one who doesn't also have me blocked so I can't see it kfdgjkdfjgkfd #If someone has an image of that moment send it to me please and thankyou I love you #Mario cannot take it easy my beloved #Well he can actually it just has to be with the right person (Luigi) #Like he's willing to spend a lazy day at home and rather enjoys them #Just not against his will (sick) or alone #Workaholic Mario my beloved tuck him in let him rest

[driftwork]

dinner at 8 - a representation of pure corruption...

There was a slight break in the monotony of driving southwards along the motorway, only the high speed of the drive creating difference , until she drives round the long downward curve that gives meaning to the drive and transforms it into joy. It is hardly surprising that when she goes around a long curve she lets out a sigh of joy and accelerates still faster as they begin to travel along the upward curve, accelerating towards the unreachable heavens. She remembers being affronted by New York, wishing for water to rise and flood the city, annoyed by the rigid chess board of lines and squares without a single curve. The line she was driving was extravagant which reduced the prosaic moment so that she felt able to speak about her day, transforming the moment as they approached the airport and drive under the runway, a plane taxiing across the motorway, the drive like a dance in the growing dusk. Anti-photons falling, beginning to hide the  countryside. She accelerated into the dusk crossing the flow of traffic into the outside lane only then the following cars melted away.  The growling noise of the engine. She told him she was thinking of buying a car tomorrow afternoon. She slows down on a long curve to the right as the traffic from another motorway merges from the left. Drifting over a lane to slow down. They talk about how much money she has,  she confesses that the long phone call she'd had during the afternoon with the bank, had left her much richer than she'd thought. Telling him she had thought they knew about the account but they obviously didn't. She explained it was in addition to the money they'd gifted her in exile. That she'd be moving some of it into local banks, they'll be sending bank officials, a director tomorrow with dna and finger print authorization and testing kits. She likes the way he doesn't care about the value or the amount of the money. She slows down as they drive onto the sliproad, keeping to the northbound carriageway and as the southbound carriageway bifurcates away to the right she accelerates onto the dark road to the north. He asks if its safe to keep the money. We can symbolically gift it if we ever need to negotiate with them. The pleasures of love are in its curves, its chaotic meandering, without which it would little more than instinctual drives, the movement of soft fleshy pistons, they were endlessly involved in the loops and strings of seduction, red threads of cotton tie them together. The dress fluttering in the evening breeze, a leather jacket lined with kelvar gracefully removed and hung on a chair. The gentle distractions of a bare shoulder, an eye looking at you from a tattoo, the deceptively soft muscles of her forearm.  The long straight towards the city, main beams on, 110 miles an hour, transitory things, allowing his eyes to watch the light reflecting from the glass and the intense focus of her face as the roads streams by. As she slows down on the flyover drifting down towords the legal limit,  she wonders if the people following them will find them [...]

Their destination is a double fronted three story white mansion, with brick walls around the garden and a carriage drive, she parks by the lawn, there are three other cars in the curved carriage drive. The house is 25 metres back from the road. The drive is lit by lamps set 3 metres apart along the top of the walls. There are manicured bushes, trees trained against the old brick walls, other shrubs and bushes set in the green lawn of the island. One of the brick walls is being maintained, some bricks are being replaced by matching antique soft red bricks. The rest of the wall is being repointed. There is movable scaffolding to enable the work to be done carefully and safely. A sign announcing who the company and workers are.  They get out of the car, their feet crunching on the gravel of the drive. They are observed by cameras, images recorded and transmitted.

The front door opens before they press the doorbell. His boss invites them in and takes them into her office. She sits them down on the sofa, another man, a colleague of his comes in and sits in a chair next to her [...] She looked at the two of them, the woman in black dress, leggings and black ankle boots, a multicolored necklace in pastel shades from pink and yellow through to blues and purple. Her skin and tattoos glow in the soft golden light, he is sitting next to her. She realizes that what is bothering her about him is that he seems happy though recognizes he is stressed. She takes the photographs out of the brown envelope on the table and places them in a row in front of them. They are photos of Park holding a gun shooting at someone who is out of frame, he is behind her off to her left a bag hanging off him. His face clearly recognizable. She taps the photograph with her finger "what is this ?" She is about to speak but he leans forward and puts his hand on her arm.  He asks in reply "What it is?" She explains they have video of you killing people. Wait she says her hand palm out towards them. Tell me why they don't want you back Sam and Park. He looks at the photo and then explains that he is very sorry but that things just got out of hand and... she looks at him, feeling slightly amused because of the way Park is looking at him. Park explains  that she has been sent into exile. She asks for a reason why she shouldn't send her back. They are both looking pale and unwell. "Boss" She heard the hidden pleading in his voice. Park shuddered. If I return to Japan or the locality, they will kill me and under the terms of the sacrifice agreement they will kill him. She put her hand on him. She explains that she cannot have that. Why?. Because my being here is conditional, if I had stayed they would have killed him as a sacrifice,  I can never go back.  The police there know this, they will never ask for us because of the exile contract. Why happened? Politics, turned into a war internal to the council. One seat of which is the police. Two or three factions targeted me, he saved me. We ran, were chased, we escaped, people died. The cost was exile or sacrifice. Sacrifice was unbearable so we came into exile.  That's it he said taking her hand, it's us. Fuck, the other man said. What do you think frank? He sighs, the noise almost echoing in the silent room. The sound of other people talking in the kitchen can just be heard. He picks up the photos and drops them back into the envelope.  Terrible definition. I don't know who these people are, any facial recognition software would fail to  to recognize them even after the upgrade. True, useless software. Your back at work on Monday. You be good. Whilst your here, nothing illegal Park and I mean nothing. She looked relieved. Thankyou... Jean, call me Jean. They have to call me boss. I think you and I can do better. Thankyou Jean. Can I ask how many died ? Best not he said, we are police and the Tokyo people are council. She nodded accepting his logic. Lets join my husband and Frank's wife for something to eat. Frank dropped the envelope with the photos and the and the video into the waste bin. You look like you need a drink Sam. I do. Frank smiled. This conversation never happened, there is no video and will be no photographs,  however silence will cost you 2 nights off or perhaps 3 nights of babysitting. We'll do babysitting Park said with a smile. i like babysitting, i used to have a niece... They looked at her. You have a deal Park. So on Monday... Frank looked at them thinking that had gone well. You are working on a long term smuggling ring and a financial fraud, both of which have been running for months and they are not getting anywhere. Frank is taking over some murders. I am ?. Yes, one of which is a particularly unpleasant serial killer. Blame it on Park... My department just got much bigger and you guys need to sort out some of the detritus so I can make it work. Your both getting promoted. Park follows her into the kitchen whilst they begin to talk to her husband and his wife. Can I help ?  She thanks her for looking after him for me.  She looked at Park surprised but beginning to see why he was happy.  He's my friend as well as working for me. I'm pleased you brought him back in one piece. Two pieces I'm guessing. Yes it's we... Her husband brought the tray of vegetables to the table. She could sense his amusement and recognized that the two of them were the cause. He handed the bottle of Chablis to frank who was looking conspiratorially at abigail. "Oh stop it." she said feeling irritated. They laughed. "I'lll brief you on the new roles and departmental changes... Ï'll show it to you tomorrow. There was a major restructuring going on whilst you were there. Incidentally Tokyo asked us to check some financial outflows. Really what sort of money ? Park asked.  She liked the way she looked at him. Some 3 to 5 hundred million vanished and they are trying to trace it. Park looked amused, well we haven't got it... Abigail asked her about the dress. We went shopping yesterday and I bought this and some other clothes. Since we are staying here I thought I had better buy a wardrobe.  It's a lovely dress. How could you afford it ? She looked embarrassed after asking. Park smiled at her,  it's OK. I'm quite rich. Since I've moved here permanently I brought some money with me. I have to work out what to do with it.  Park shifted in her seat slightly towards him. He dropped the glass, she caught it spilling a little white wine onto her dress.  She hands the glass and what remains of its contents back to him. Not even aware of the surprise, perhaps even shock at the reaction they witnessed. We have the bank coming round in the morning. She says answering Jean and her husbands unspoken question. She turned back towards Abigail, conscious that they are all looking at her. Thinking this is a good time to confess that she is now becoming part of the reason, ideology of the bourgeois project.  I also own part of a company, Kawabarti, through a holding company. Now that I'm here, will have to get involved in running it.  Kawabarti, aren't they going IPO soon ? They were. I'll stop that until I know they have done nothing which is illegal, I don't want anyone to arrest me because I've been a silent investor, now that I live here. I suppose I shouldn't say that because I'm at a table with police. But its supposed to be absolutely legal and now that I live here with you, he was still looking pale, drink she said, her hand on his arm,  its ok.  I have to make sure it is... I thought I was going to faint with shock just then.  I don't want to complicate the experiment better to get all the trivial problematics out in public. Fair, i think the amount of money is a bit of a shock he said.  Experiment ? Jean asked, fascinated by the way they were being. He looked at Park. She nodded, Go ahead.  We committed to a year to see if we could live together. We thought we could run it as an experiment, I am very hopeful, though this bit of chaos. I would have told you today anyway about this.

Out there the enemy awaits them as they circle round during the sorties, perhaps they are paying a distant homage to earlier dogfights, the bend in the nights landscape,  the engine growling in the black night, three digits on the speedometer, in the distance a storm flashes, forks heading down towards the ground. Not caught unawares they race towards the motorway junction that will take them north, lightening flashes. The junction lit by a flash of lightening on its far side like a flash from a giants  camera. The lights are off at the junction. They follow the curve of the slip road, slower now as they run into a wall of rain. The road shimmers in the rain, water washing away the day. The better to make them feel, the the caress of his had stroking and holding her leg, a page turns as we read a book in the domestic space, is the caress erotic? She doesn't know. She lacks knowledge of such things she thinks, having spent too much time killing people to know. Later, in the not to distant future he will say to her that reactionaries cannot understand a thing like a caress because for them its always about power. But in the here and now as she accelerates up the hill onto the orbital she has no goal but the pleasure of the hand on her thigh and a successfully navigated bend,  and here she smiles as we have avoided another violent ending. Nothing beyond the  smile it brings to her lips,  one that he thinks resembles happiness. If we could live our lives likes this, successfully negotiating curves we could be happy...

[ ...well that was interesting her husband said. Jean looked at him quizzically.  He'll never cheat on her. Pouring vodka shots into crystal glasses. She'd probably kill him if he did. The four of them laughed. More seriously if we betrayed him after this, she'd kill us as well Frank said, i do like her [...] they talked about them sipping the vodka and drinking tea and espresso into the middle of the night [...] They sent a sealed file from her yesterday,  it was sensibly passed to me unread, it's heavily redacted but enough to know who and what she is, it makes interesting reading. He probably doesn't know, nor even care based on this evening,  Abigail interjected. They have asked us keep tabs on her and him. I think they are frightened in case she goes back. Thank you she said to her, I needed someone else's opinion.  Her husband wondered how much money she'd brought with her. This was the only way I could think of to stop them running. I will destroy the file, thank them for it and tell them we will deal with it...]

#stories of exile #exile #corruption #everyday places #tokyo #city