#rickiah

[azikarue]

MayBlade 2023 : Day 3 : Pets

Rick/Mariah | FFN Rating: M (for language) | FFN Link ❖ “No. Absolutely the fuck not.”

“Don’t be so heartless, Rick!” Mariah exclaimed. She had the nerve to sound affronted. Like it was downright blasphemy for Rick to refuse some critter she found in the gutter entry to his apartment. Her face screwed up into a glare that, somehow, came across as half pout, too. “It’s pouring down rain!”

Rick scowled. He could tell by the way Mariah and her new friend were dripping onto the hallway carpet.

The friend in question was the ugliest fucking cat Rick had ever seen. It was scrawny, with a rat-like tail swishing back and forth and one ear that looked like a bite had been taken out of it. Its giant, yellow eyes were glaring daggers at him from the comfort of Mariah’s arms.

“It’s been raining,” he pointed out, his grip on the door tightening in case she tried to force her way in. Her eyes – and the cat’s – narrowed. “Take that thing back outside. Put it in the parking garage or whatever, but it’s not coming in here.”

“But, Rick—”

“But, nothing! I’m not paying to keep it here just to have to flea bomb the apartment and treat myself for fucking rabies when it claws my eyes out in the middle of the night!”

Rick wasn’t a cat person. Maybe if he was, he’d have known not to make a grab for it when it looked like the only way it was gonna make it back downstairs was if he took it himself. His hands barely touched it before it yowled and sprung out of Mariah’s grasp, scrambled up and over Rick’s shoulder, and off into his apartment.

“Son of a bitch!”

“Hey!” Mariah rushed past him and fell to her hands and knees behind the couch. Rick could ear angry hissing and spitting coming from underneath as he slammed the door shut behind him.

“It clawed me!” Rick growled, pulling his sleeve aside to check the damage.

“You scared him!” Mariah scolded. There were scratches on her arm, too, but she was more concerned about the stupid cat under the couch. “He was only trying to get away.”

“Well now I’m gonna need a fucking tetanus shot.”

“Don’t be a baby!”

Rick glowered and stomped into the living area, fully intent on getting the cat out of the couch and out of his apartment by any means necessary. As he got closer, it started to growl and, when he knelt down and made to stick his arm under the couch, it took a swipe at him.

“Motherfucker,” he spat and flinched.

“Don’t!” Mariah warned, tugging at him until he acquiesced and sat back onto his heels. “He’s mad now!”

“That makes two of us!”

“Listen, Rick,” Mariah said in that annoying tone she got when she thought he was being difficult for no reason, but he was really being sensible with a slight temper. “We need to let him acclimate. Let’s have dinner and give him space – he’ll probably come out then.”

“I don’t want it to acclimate.” The sliver of space between the couch and the floor was taunting him. “I want that thing out of here!”

“Be patient!” she shot back and went to prepare dinner.

Rick wanted to tell her that he was actually being extremely fucking patient for someone who’d had a stray cat let loose in his apartment and was then told not to be a baby about it.

Instead, he helped Mariah put dinner together, keeping one eye on the couch at all times. He spent their entire meal ready to pounce if he saw even one paw pop out into the open, but the time never came. He thought the cat might have fallen asleep, until he made the mistake of sitting down to watch the news and the growling started again.

“Fuck this, I’m going to bed,” he grumbled. He stepped over Mariah – already on the floor shushing the cat – on his way to the bedroom and shut the door behind him.

Mariah never came to bed and he found himself waking up every two hours to strain his ears for trouble. He never heard a peep from her or the cat. Whether that meant it was still hiding or settled in and roaming, Rick didn’t approve.

The last thing he remembered was thinking about getting up and cracking the balcony door in hopes the cat would slip out into the night. The next morning came faster than he would have liked after a night spent tossing and turning.

Any delusions he held about things looking better in the daylight were scrapped the second he stumbled out of the bathroom. He’d spent ten minutes in the shower scrubbing any cat crud out of his scratches, only to find the offending animal on his kitchen counter, eating out of a tuna can.

Mariah stood nearby, absentmindedly stroking its fur with a tired smile on her face. Now that it was dry, the cat was extremely fluffy and, somehow, twice as mean-looking.

“I thought I told you to get that fucking thing out of here,” Rick said grumpily. Never mind that the shelters probably weren’t open at seven in the morning. He grabbed a water from the fridge, careful to give the cat a wide berth. “What’s it doing on the counter?”

“He only came out a little bit ago,” Mariah explained while stifling a yawn. She looked like she’d spent the night on the floor; there were dark circles under her eyes and blankets beside the coffee table. “I just finished brushing him. Doesn’t he look handsome?”

Rick looked at her like she had a second head. Then at the cat – it was glaring at him with tuna stuck in its crooked whiskers. And finally at the counter. Even though it was designed to hide crumbs, he could tell it was covered in a fine layer of cat hair and there was even more in the brush.

“Is that my fucking hairbrush?!” He slammed his water down on the counter and the stupid cat hissed and puffed up to the general size and shape of a rabid raccoon.

Mariah scooped it up into her arms and comforted it like a baby.

“What if it has fleas?!”

“You don’t even use that hairbrush!”

“My place is gonna be fucking infested!”

“Rick,” Mariah said firmly. If she didn’t have a cat in her arms, she’d probably have her hands on her hips. “You’re being dramatic. He’s a cat, not a sewer rat. All he needs is patience and a loving home. It wouldn’t kill you to have some companionship while I’m away.”

Rick’s jaw dropped. “I’m not keeping it!”

“Well, I can’t take him back with me.”

“Why do either of us need to have anything to do with it?!” Rick threw his hands in the air and the cat’s ears flattened back on its head. “Look!” he added, as it began trying to wriggle over Mariah’s shoulder, “it doesn’t even want to be here!”

“Stop shouting!” Mariah snapped, eyes blazing in a way that reminded Rick of the damn cat, of all things.

She heaved the cat off of her, not even flinching when its nails left holes in the t-shirt she was wearing (which Rick belatedly realized was his), and shoved it against his chest. She held it there, locked in a stare down with Rick, until he was forced to take hold of it in fear that it would scratch his nipples off if he didn’t angle its claws the other way.

“What the hell are you giving me this for?”

“Keep an eye on him while I get ready,” she ordered. “We’re going to the pet store.”

“Shelter,” Rick corrected firmly. Mariah might be able to invite herself into his apartment every time she was in town, but he wasn’t about to let her bring every animal in New York City in off the streets. Especially when she was just gonna piss off back to China and leave him with the fallout.

“It’s Sunday,” Mariah reminded him smugly. “He’s at least staying until tomorrow and he can’t stay without proper food and a litter box.”

Rick scowled and watched her turn on her heel. He considered double-checking if there was a shelter nearby open on Sundays, but he knew the universe wasn’t that kind to him. His train of thought was broken when he felt a sudden, sharp pain on the back of his hand.

He swore and dropped the cat to examine the bite marks it left behind.

“Oh, Rick?” Mariah poked her head out of the bathroom.

“What?” he grumbled, already on his way to the sink to wash his hand.

“Keep an eye on him – he hasn’t gone to the bathroom since I brought him in.”

With that revelation, Rick hurried to find his unwanted companion. Thankfully, when he did, it was slinking around behind the curtains instead of pissing on his carpet. It started and hissed when he picked it up by surprise, but he wasn’t about to leave it to wander around making a mess.

After careful deliberation, he sat gingerly on the couch with the cat in his lap. It growled in warning, but otherwise made less of a fuss than he was expecting. Good. He didn’t want scratched up thighs or a shredded leather sofa.

The cat gave one displeased meow and looked back at Rick with a grumpy expression he was beginning to suspect was permanent. It meowed again.

“I don’t know what the fuck you’re saying,” Rick said, immediately feeling like an idiot for answering a cat.

It was probably his imagination when the next meow sounded a little forlorn.

In the bathroom, the shower kicked on. Rick slouched back into the sofa, tipping his head over the back with a huff. The cat sighed and laid down in his lap. Rick was too paranoid to let go of it, but it must have decided it didn’t give a shit, because it began to purr.

“Don’t get comfortable,” Rick scoffed, even as the sound of the shower, paired with the purring and his own lack of sleep, made him begin to nod off.

The next thing he knew, he was woken up by the sound of Mariah’s laughter.

“I thought you two didn’t get along?” She was leaning over the back of the couch, peering down at him.

Rick glared halfheartedly at her through the mass of fur obscuring his vision. Sometime after he dozed off, the cat had crawled up his chest and went to sleep on his collarbone. It’s tail was what was all over his face. Damn thing was still purring.

“We don’t.”

Mariah laughed and brushed some fur aside to kiss Rick’s forehead.

“Whatever you say, Rick.”

#beyblade #mayblade 2023 #rickiah #love these two #though every time I write Rick I feel like I have to rate it M for language on FFN 🙄 #then I feel silly #azrfic #azikarue #azikarue394

[jounals2narnia-blog]

To the next girl that has him

Take care of him unlike me. He’s the kindest most sweetest guy I know and I let fear take over me. I let the distance between us break like a mirror and I ruined the one guy that was there for me. Take care of him, please. He’ll call you at night just to say he’ll be thinking about you until tomorrow. He’ll call you in the morning to tell you he’s missed you even though you talked merely a couple hours ago. Take care of him, please. He will protect you and tell his friends to shut up when they’ve gone to far, he’ll bring you sweet gifts not for a reason but just because he loves you, he’ll FaceTime you in the middle of the night to tell you he heard a song that reminded him of you. Take care of him, please. I regret what I did and I wish every second to go back and tell myself- no- scream to myself that “he’s the one Rickiah! He cares so fucking much about you! Don’t let fear blind you!” But I was too late to realize it but that doesn’t mean YOU have to be. To the next girl that has the heart of the guy who still has my heart, take care of him, please, because he will take care of you, I promise.

#heartbreak #heartbroken #relationship #relatable #teen #teens relate #sad #i'm crying #depressing quotes #depression #depressed #aesthetic #relate #why am i like this #why me #why

[azikarue]

Life in Color : Chapter 31 : Free Day

Did something a little different for this chapter and took requests for my Kiss Fic Bingo card. So here's three gratuitous kisses to wrap up Life in Color: two Max/Mariam and one Rick/Mariah, as requested by @redwheeler and @too-raph. Thank you both for always humoring me. ♥

**Disclaimer that all characters are adults in these fills, despite the first one taking place during a tournament. I want that to be very clear, given the M rating my paranoia made me slap on them. ❖ Max/Mariam | FFN Rating: M (for slight implications) | FFN Link *for @redwheeler's 'kissing in dark corners' request* ❖ “You know, Max, asking me to meet you in front of my teammates makes me think you’re missing the point of keeping this a secret.”

Max stopped in his tracks, wincing as his sneakers squeaked on the pool deck. Normally he beat Mariam to their rendezvous, but all the excitement of advancing to the semifinals kept his friends up way later than normal. Kenny had still been awake when he left, crunching numbers with Dizzi. At least he’d believed Max when he said he needed a walk to wind down.

“I don’t think they heard me, Mariam,” he said, looking around for her. The hotel’s pool was technically closed at nighttime. The lights under the water were the only thing keeping the room from total darkness; they cast everything in an ethereal blue-green glow. “I could barely hear myself over the crowd.”

After weeks of round robin competition, the BBA had decided to announce its semifinalists as soon as the last battle finished. It was unorthodox, but publicizing it ahead of time had caused an undeniable spike in ticket sales for that particular day. When DJ Jazzman shouted the standings, it felt like the fans broke the sound barrier with their cheers; Max’s ears were still ringing.

The press conference revealing which teams would face off for a chance at the finals was scheduled for the following day. Kenny said it was trending to be the most-watched BBA press conference of all time. It was safe to say that, in the years following the near-destruction of the BBA at the hands of BEGA, they’d gotten smarter with their marketing.

That wasn’t the only thing that changed, Max thought when Mariam slipped out from behind a pillar to give him a look that made his stomach flutter. As the time passed, his relationship with Mariam had evolved into something more than a tentative friendship. It meant a lot to him, even if neither of them were ready to share it with anybody else yet.

“So,” Mariam drawled, taking a handful of steps across the tile as Max watched with a widening smile, “Is this the ‘I won’t go easy on you’ speech? Or were you hoping I’d want to go skinny-dipping?”

Max sputtered. He could feel his cheeks heating up as a smirk spread across Mariam’s face. She was messing with him. Of course she was. It didn’t make his blush fade any faster.

“I – uh – probably closer to the first option,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Hmm…” Mariam tilted her head the tiniest bit, exposing one of her earrings. She’d been teasing him about the skinny-dipping, but he felt strangely naked under her inquisitive gaze. “I think we’ve had this conversation before, Max.”

He remembered. It was the night the Saint Shields arrived in Japan for the start of the tournament. Mariam had been grumpy and jet-lagged, but had agreed to meet Max at the bridge anyway. That was when they’d decided to keep their budding relationship a secret and, also, not to let their feelings for one another affect how hard they’d fight when their teams inevitably met in battle.

Max had no intention of breaking either promise, but when the Saint Shields and Bladebreakers both advanced to the semifinals, he was hit with the overwhelming urge to speak with Mariam. There was every possibility that the rest of the World Championships would play out without needing to battle each other, but Max’s gut told him otherwise. Their relationship was new, and part of him was afraid Mariam would pull away from him in light of the standings. Now that they were face-to-face, in private, it felt kind of silly.

“I just need you to know that the semifinals don’t change anything for me,” he said earnestly, closing the distance between them and taking her hand in his, “no matter how things play out. We can be rivals in the dish and still have this.” He squeezed her hand. Silly or not, his cards were on the table.

Mariam’s eyes met his, always greener than he remembered. “I didn’t dump you when you beat me in the round robin,” she reminded him. “So unless you’re suddenly a sore loser, I think you’re being a little dramatic.”

“It’s different, this time.” Max felt his cheeks heating up again, a dead giveaway that he wasn’t just talking about their battle.

Since the start of the tournament, there had been a marked shift in their dynamic. All the time spent together in secret, getting to know Mariam in dark corners all over the world, had forged a strong bond and made him feel things he knew would scare her away if he dared to put a name to them.

During their last battle, Max had felt flayed alive, like all of his emotions and desires were out there for the world to see. Mariam had fought with just as much feeling and he’d nearly been overwhelmed by everything that Sharkrash helped her express. It was like they were speaking through their beyblades.

He’d dodged more than one suspicious glance from his teammates when all was said and done and he came out victorious. And he and Mariam were closer since, trusting each other with more. More that they could lose if things went south.

Back in the present, Mariam was studying him thoughtfully. Not for the first time, he felt like she could see right through him. She stroked the back of his knuckles, an uncharacteristically gentle gesture that made him feel less off-kilter and seemed to help gather her thoughts.

“If we face each other in the next round, it won’t change anything, Max,” she said, staring him down with a fierce look that reminded him of being back on the battlefield. “Sharkrash and I won’t quit until we have nothing left to give. You and Draciel had better do the same.”

Relief flooded Max’s veins. “We will,” he promised with a nod, unable to keep the smile off his face now that his worry was melting away. “It’ll be an even better battle than last time. We’ve been training hard.”

“I know,” Mariam said. Another smirk curled onto her lips, this one paired with a coy look in her eye that made him realize exactly how warm it was by the pool. “I’ve been watching.”

Max’s heart sped up, falling out of tempo with the gentle sloshing of the water. She looked so pretty in the rippling light. He kept his eyes glued to her as she slipped her hand out of his and began tracing the muscles in his arm leisurely, like there wasn’t anything in the world that was more pressing.

“Can I ask you something, Max?” She took a distracting step into his personal space that rendered him unable to do anything other than nod in response. She didn’t seem to mind and asked, undeterred, “Is that the only reason you wanted to meet me tonight?”

Something about the way she asked gave him goosebumps. Or maybe it was the fact that she’d switched it up and was dragging her nails across his skin instead of her fingertips.

“I don’t need a reason to want to see you, Mariam,” he answered truthfully. If it were up to him, he’d spend every waking minute with her. By the time their next battle was over, it was entirely possible that every single beyblader and spectator would know it, too.

“Good.”

Then her hand was on his chest, steering him off to the side until his back hit the wall. He knew without looking that they were hidden from anybody who’d happen to wander past the pool doors. If it was getting a little harder to breathe, it was probably the chlorine.

“Mariam—”

“Don’t want you to get caught fraternizing with the enemy,” she said in a low voice, standing so close that one of her feet was between his and he could feel every single word ghosting over his lips. “Might make the press conference even more of a riot than usual.”

Max’s only answer was to cup her jaw and kiss her, catching her off guard for once. He smiled against her mouth when she made an indignant noise in the back of her throat, then gave in and let her coax his lips apart with her tongue, in place of an apology.

Mariam seemed to take his early bid for dominance personally. Her hands wove into his hair, nails dragging along his scalp and making chills run down his spine. One of her thighs muscled its way between his and he couldn’t hold back a groan; it was a fight to keep his hips from arching off of the wall.

Then she was pulling her mouth off of his, leaving him gasping for air, to kiss her way along his jaw and down his neck, nipping here and there as she went. She tugged his hair, pulling his head to the side to make it easier for herself, and nuzzled into his neck to kiss his pulse point.

“Mariam.” Her bangs were tickling him, so he brushed them out of her face.

The sweet gesture must have won her over, because her lips met his again, once, twice, and three times in tender, teasing kisses that gave him more butterflies than the taste of her tongue had earlier.

Then, before he knew it, she was taking a step back. Despite the balmy temperature in the room, he felt a sudden chill in the newfound space between them.

“Mariam?” This time it was a question.

“I’ve been gone too long,” she said, frowning as she smoothed out his clothing and combed her fingers through his hair. He stayed perfectly still, heart thundering in his chest, and let her put him to rights. “They’re going to be looking for me.”

Max nodded reluctantly. It was late when he left and it was later now. The press conference was at ten the next morning. If he had any hope of being awake in time to have breakfast first, he should say goodbye.

“Do you want me to walk you up?” he asked, even though he knew the answer.

Mariam shot him a look and said, “There you go again, missing the point of meeting in secret.” When she was satisfied he didn’t look like she’d just kissed him senseless, she backed away even more.

“We’re good, right?” Max asked as she peeked over her shoulder in the direction of the doors. It was a funny thing to ask when they’d just finished making out, but he wanted to be doubly sure that her hasty retreat didn’t have anything to do with their conversation beforehand.

Mariam snorted and looked back at him one more time; he didn’t think he was imagining the fondness glittering in her eyes. “See you tomorrow, Max.” And then she was gone. ❖ Rick/Mariah | FFN Rating: M (for language and slight implications) *for @too-raph's 'kissing on a Ferris wheel' request* ❖ Rick didn’t make a lot of decisions in life that he regretted. It was entirely on principle. Regret was a waste of perfectly good time – he preferred to shrug shit off and move on with his life instead of agonizing over every imperfection. He’d do it this time, too, if he ever got off this fucking Ferris wheel alive.

“Are you okay, Rick?”

He looked down – a bad idea – at Mariah. She had a quizzical look on her face and thousands of lights from other rides were swimming behind her. On the ground. Where all the sensible, ant-sized people were. She might not have seen any issue with sitting in a metal death trap over a hundred feet tall that a bunch of workers assembled overnight, but Rick was very much not okay with it.

“Fucking fabulous,” he answered with a scowl, stomach churning as they rounded the crest of the ferris wheel and started back down the other side. The only consolation was that it was nighttime, so no one should be able to see how tightly Rick’s jaw was clenched or the death grip he had on the back and side of their carriage. “How many times does this stupid thing go around again?”

He’d tried counting from the ground while they stood in line, but even looking up at it made him feel like he was going to fall back onto his ass.

“Oh, Rick,” Mariah sighed, cushioning her head against his tense bicep, “you’re so impatient. Can’t you just sit back and enjoy the moment?”

The problem with sitting back was that it made the carriage sway ominously. No fucking thank you.

Any sense of ease Rick enjoyed in the few seconds they spent close enough to the ground that he wouldn’t die if the ride malfunctioned completely evaporated as the Ferris wheel kept going and they started ascending again. How often did they inspect these things? He could swear he heard creaking above the grating sound of carnival music. How much noise was normal?

His heart skipped a beat when Mariah scooted across the seat to snuggle into his side. Why the hell was she moving? His grip on the carriage tightened even more as it moved with her – his fingerprints were going to be permanently embedded in the metal. He closed his eyes and breathed deeply through his nose. He’d never hear the end of it if he puked all over her.

He just about jumped out of his skin, eyes snapping open, when one of her hands came to rest on his thigh. They were at the halfway point, on their way down, but the resulting swing of their carriage made his heart thunder against his chest. Rick shot her a glare.

Mariah giggled, probably figuring he was mad about her catching him off guard. “You need to relax, Rick,” she said and began to rub his leg teasingly slow. Her golden eyes were looking up at him flirtatiously, darting down to his lips every few seconds.

Normally he was fucking wild about her taking charge, but right now the thought of taking a single finger off of the Ferris wheel to touch her made him feel like he was going to pass the fuck out.

“Mariah…” he warned.

The Ferris wheel was carrying them back up again. The hand on his leg moved to his chest and she must have misinterpreted his racing heart because she leaned up and kissed him squarely on the lips.

Rick thought about reciprocating, taking his mind off of his predicament with the taste of her mouth, but no matter how hard he thought about it, he couldn’t get the wires to connect in his brain. His body wouldn’t cooperate, frozen in place with fear and refusing to let his desire for Mariah override his survival instincts.

It didn’t take her long to realize he was staying stock still. She pulled back and sat down with a thump.

Rick groaned. He hadn’t realized she was off the fucking seat. What was she – insane? He pried his eyes open. Mariah was staring at him with a thoughtful frown and her arms crossed over her chest.

“Rick…” He didn’t like the way she was looking at him. There was suspicion shining in her eyes with the carnival lights and he got the feeling she was piecing things together. Which would be fucking embarrassing. He was debating whether it was more embarrassing than sitting stiff as a corpse while she tried to make out with him when she asked, “Are you afraid of heights?”

“No!” he answered reflexively. But then the Ferris wheel slowed to a stop, leaving them swinging at the apex, and he could feel the color drain from his face. “Fuck.”

“You should have said something!” Mariah scolded.

“It’s just this damn contraption!” he shot back, doing his level best not to look anywhere but Mariah’s face. The only other option was closing his eyes again because anything else would be looking down. “It feels like it could collapse at any second.”

As if on cue, a gust of wind kicked up, rocking their carriage back and forth. Rick ground his teeth together.

“I’m sure they have safety procedures in place,” Mariah said, appearing totally unruffled about the whole situation. “If there was something wrong with it, they wouldn’t open the ride.”

Rick might have been inclined to believe that if the Ferris wheel was a permanent fixture, but a week ago the stretch of land occupied by the fair had been completely empty. Things assembled that quickly tended to fall apart even faster.

“It’s dark out,” he muttered, pausing to hold his breath while the Ferris wheel started and stopped once more to let people off. “This whole thing could be fucking condemned and no one would know.”

Mariah shot him a skeptical look – he wasn’t convincing her anytime soon, but he didn’t give a shit as long as he got off the Ferris wheel with some fraction of his dignity intact and without having a heart attack.

The closer they got to the ground, the more Rick realized he looked like a complete psychopath clinging to the carriage like his life depended on it. He didn’t need anyone in line or the ride operator seeing him freaking out. He made a marked effort to loosen his grip and relax his posture, but all of his progress was lost when the wheel made a particularly squeaky stop.

“Rick, give me your hand,” Mariah all but ordered, twisting around and reaching back to try and prise his fingers open.

He scowled at her, but there was less heat behind it than he normally mustered; they were at an awkward middle height where there was nothing but ground below them and he could see the tops of other rides in the sky behind her head. With a gulp he hoped she didn’t notice, he let go of the carriage and let Mariah drape his arm around her shoulders.

“There.” She tucked her face against his neck – a feat that might not have been possible if he wasn’t hunkered down in the seat, making sure his center of gravity was securely in the carriage – and sighed. “Isn’t this better?”

If by better she meant he could wipe his sweaty hand on her shirt instead of praying it wouldn’t make him lose his grip on the carriage, he guessed it was. He was about to say something to that affect when she fluttered her eyelashes against his skin and tilted her jaw to press a slow, hot kiss to his neck. As she pulled back, only by a fraction of an inch, her tongue darted out playfully to wet his skin.

“What are you doing?” he asked.

The Ferris wheel coasted around another few feet and Rick’s stomach flip-flopped, but this time he couldn’t tell if it was anxiety or the way Mariah gently blew on the wet patch of skin, making goosebumps erupt all over his arms. His brain was misfiring, getting all its signals confused.

“Mariah—”

She cut him off by digging her fingernails into his thigh hard enough that he’d probably have delicate half-moon indents left behind. The thought made something headier than nausea settle in his stomach and the feeling of her mouth latching onto his neck made him restless in a good way.

He closed his eyes and took a breath to center himself. When he opened them again, they were one level closer to the ground and he hadn’t even noticed they’d moved. It probably had something to do with the way she was sucking a bruise onto his neck or the fistful of her shirt he was holding.

“Fuck.”

“Almost there,” she whispered as they began their final descent and nipped once at his earlobe, successfully taking his mind off of the way the Ferris wheel groaned to a final halt.

Rick could feel the disapproving look the ride operator was shooting their way as Mariah untangled herself from his hold. He made sure to smirk at the kid on his way out, trailing after Mariah on unsteady legs that he could no longer attribute solely to the adrenaline.

Maybe he didn’t hate that godforsaken chunk of metal, after all. ❖ Max/Mariam | FFN Rating: M (for implications and undressing) *for @redwheeler's 'kissing in the shower' request* ❖ Max didn’t know the suite had a see-through bathroom when he booked it.

He’d said as much to Mariam the second the door coasted shut behind him and he looked up to see a glass cube, housing the usual amenities, jutting into the middle of their hotel room. Mariam fixed him with a suspicious look, one eyebrow raised and a gleam in her green eyes he should have recognized meant trouble.

“Whatever you say,” she teased and unzipped her suitcase.

Max followed suit. Since they were staying for nearly two weeks, living out of their luggage would be impractical, but there wasn’t a lot to unpack. He bumped into Mariam as they both plugged in chargers and again when they were hanging up clothes. Each time she gave him a knowing look, like she thought he was doing it on purpose, and rewarded him with a chaste kiss. And, with each passing minute, the excitement buzzing under his skin got closer and closer to bubbling over.

The promise of two weeks alone with Mariam made him feel like he was a teenager again, getting butterflies every time she even glanced his way.

Eventually he finished with his luggage and went hunting for the remote to the thermostat. He was in the middle of trying to find the impossible happy medium on a hotel’s temperature gauge, when he heard the shower kick on. He probably gave himself whiplash with how fast he turned around, remote in his hand all but forgotten.

“What are you doing?”

Mariam’s eyes flicked over to him again and she shot him a smirk from the other side of the glass. She took her time answering, carefully spreading their toiletries out across the counter before poking her head out of the door. “I’m going to get a shower – we’ve been traveling all day,” she said.

Steam was beginning to fog up the walls of the bathroom and Max’s brain felt similarly inhibited.

“Is that okay?”

“Uh, y-yes… yeah,” he stuttered. “Take as long as you want.” The words slipped out without him meaning to say them, and he felt his cheeks flush red under Mariam’s piercing gaze. “I’ll be out here.” The implication that he’d be standing in the room, staring at her like a peeping Tom, only made him redder.

Mariam’s answer was a coy smile. When she closed the door behind her, the lock didn’t click.

Max let out a breath and tossed the AC remote onto the bedside table so he could run his hands through his hair. He had literally showered with Mariam before, so he had no clue why the thought of catching a glimpse of her doing so made him feel so flustered. He was shaking his head at his own ridiculousness when movement from behind the glass caught his eye. It was embarrassing how quickly he zeroed in on the bathroom.

Through the clouded glass, he could make out the shape of Mariam undressing. Her arms crossed as she pulled one of his old BBA hoodies over her head and tossed it to the floor. He could see the foggy shapes of her legs bend as she stepped out of her leggings, then her underwear. Her bra came last and, though he didn’t have a clear view by any means, Max felt liquid heat drizzle down to coil in his gut.

She was doing it on purpose. She had to be, he thought, as she shook her hair free of its ponytail and stepped under the spray of the shower. Otherwise, he wouldn’t be able to hear her sigh from the whole way out here, over the sound of the water and the thundering of his heart in his ears.

When Mariam dipped her head back under the spray, his eyes followed the blurry line of her body from the graceful arc of her neck the whole way down her legs. And, when she wrung out her hair, splattering water on the glass that washed away small splotches of steam, he couldn’t help but stare at the pinpricks of perfect, pale skin that were revealed.

He wanted to kiss her. Touch her. Skim his hands through the streams of water trickling down her body.

He was probably allowed to, considering this was their honeymoon.

In a rush, he tugged his shirt off and struggled out of the rest of his clothes on the short walk to the bathroom door. He rested his forehead against it for a second, feeling the heat from Mariam’s shower through the glass in an attempt to ground himself, before turning the handle and letting himself inside.

A blanket of steam ensconced him, adding to the heady environment and making his flush spread over his ears and down his neck. Despite the heat, he shivered in anticipation when Mariam’s eyes locked on his.

“Took you long enough,” she said with a smirk that made him either want to kiss her senseless or fall to his knees.

Max stepped forward. Despite being surrounded by glass, he felt like the world outside didn’t exist. Existence was only the sound of running water, steam heavy in his lungs, and his wife beckoning him into her embrace with eager hands.

He went willingly, unable to ignore her pull if he’d wanted to, and moaned as she pressed her body against his, somehow hotter against his front than the scalding water at his back. And then she was kissing him, running her hands up over his shoulders and tangling them in his hair.

Max took hold of her waistline and kissed her back. He felt her shiver with the same anticipation rushing through his veins and sharpening his senses. He moved one hand to cradle her face, changing the angle of the kiss just slightly so he could kiss her deeper.

She sighed, the air surprisingly cool in the hot room, and arched into him when he slipped the hand on her waist to the small of her back. This. He wanted this forever.

“I love you,” he muttered against her lips, just to feel them smile.

“I love you, too, Max,” she whispered breathlessly and pinned him up against the glass.

#beyblade #maxmar #rickiah #these aren't even rated M for anything crazy but I always rate to be safe 🙈 #I'm so sleepy and at the point where idk if I like any of these so TIME TO POST #it's tradition #azrfic #azikarue #azikarue394 #kiss fic bingo #mayblade 2023 #azrequests #idk if I'll ever take requests again but I should probably have a tag for them

[azikarue]

MayBlade 2023 : Day 10 : Maid

Rick/Mariah | FFN Rated: M (for language + canoodling) | FFN Link ❖ It was one of those spring days that made most people want to get off of their ass and do something productive.

Rick could tell as soon as he woke up to sunlight streaming into his bedroom and the curtains dancing in the breeze. It wasn’t hot enough for the city air to smell like straight garbage yet, and it was pleasantly cool for what promised to be a sunny day.

But as far as he was concerned, it was the perfect day to have zero obligations and Mariah in his bed, if she was up for it.

With that thought, Rick heaved himself to his feet. He didn’t bother making the bed, instead grabbing some clean clothes and heading toward the bathroom.

Mariah had to be up already, but he didn’t see her in the living area. It wasn’t unusual for her to run errands by herself, so he didn’t think anything of it until he was leaving the bathroom, toweling his hair off after a shower, and realized the door to the guest room was open.

Mariah hadn’t spent much time in the guest room since her first visit. She kept some clothes in the closet and would get dressed in there sometimes, but he had no clue what she could’ve been doing in there all morning.

He tossed the towel over his shoulder and went to investigate.

He found her sitting on the floor, folding a pile of clothes and shoving them in a garbage bag. She looked up when he appeared in the doorway and he smirked at the way her eyes traveled over his naked torso, met his gaze, and then bounced back down to look again. It wasn’t a coincidence that she swallowed right as a stray drop of water fell from his hair, down his body, to the waistband of the sweats hanging low on his hips.

“What are you doing?” he asked, hoping that whatever it was, she could be convinced to do something else entirely.

Mariah gave her head a shake. There was a promising dusting of pink on her cheeks when she answered, “Spring cleaning. I don’t wear any of these clothes that much, so I thought I’d start here. I want your help in the living room, next.”

Rick was torn between commenting on how he didn’t realize she had that many fucking clothes in the apartment when she didn’t actually live in New York and complaining about cleaning on his day off. Either one might affect his chances at getting to see Mariah naked anytime soon, so he decided to try another angle.

“Why?” he asked, only a little bit grumpily.

“This is your apartment, Rick,” Mariah pointed out. She was still sneaking glances at any bare skin she could see and it was fucking distracting. “You can help clean – I’m not your maid.”

“I never asked you to clean shit,” Rick reminded her gentler than he might have under other circumstances; she hadn’t folded any clothes in a few seconds, too busy gawking. He crossed his arms over his chest and watched Mariah’s eyes track the movement.

“It’ll go faster if we do it together,” she said to his biceps.

“Is that really how you want to spend the day?” He grabbed his towel again and purposefully dried his hair rough, so more droplets would land on his skin for Mariah to see.

“I did the bathroom, kitchen, and bedroom last night while you were working. The living room is the last big chunk that’s left.” Mariah went back to bagging clothes, determinedly not looking at Rick. They might not have been as neatly folded as the first batch, but she did manage to finish. She stood up and made to walk past him. “Go put a shirt on so you can help.”

He held out an arm, pressing his hand against the door frame to block her path, and said, “I’ve got better things to do.”

Mariah looked up at him with a challenging glare. She put a hand on his forearm, as if to push him away, but instead brushed it gently over the muscle until her thumb was stroking the inside of his elbow. Her touch was soft enough to give him fucking goosebumps.

“Oh yeah?” she asked, leaning into his personal space, golden eyes gleaming mischievously. “Like what?”

That was all the invitation Rick needed to scoop her up in his arms and toss her onto the guest bed. She was laughing as she landed and giggled again when Rick kneeling on the bed made her slide toward him as the mattress sunk.

“Shitty mattress,” he grumbled.

“We can add it to the list, if you want,” Mariah offered, shimmying up toward the pillows. “Good time to get a new one.”

“What is it with you and cleaning today?”

It might as well have been a rhetorical question for how quickly he kissed her after asking. Mariah sighed, parted her lips, and met his tongue with her own. She didn’t give up control easily, pulling on a fistful of his hair anytime the kiss grew hard enough to force her down onto the pillow.

“What is it with you and your one-track mind today?” Mariah mumbled against his lips, before connecting for another kiss.

Rick barely recognized that she was mocking his previous question, too preoccupied with the way she moved, adjusting her position beneath him, to let him fall into the vee of her thighs.

“It’s better than mopping the fucking floors.”

Her answer was to squeeze his hips so tight with her legs that he might actually find bruises there later. He groaned into her mouth at the thought.

For as rough as Mariah could be, everything about her body was so fucking soft. Rick let his hands roam, starting at those strong thighs holding him close and working his way up her body, over her ass. Mariah shivered at his touch and dragged her nails down his chest, the grip on his hair tightening.

Bracketed in by the sting of her touch, he smirked against her lips and grazed one knuckle over the underside of her breast.

She gasped and bit his tongue hard.

“Fuck!” He pulled back enough to take in her blown-wide pupils, messy hair, and self-satisfied smirk as she fought to catch her breath.

Rick narrowed his eyes at her and decided he was safer kissing her neck for now. He pushed her shirt up so he could touch the bare skin of her waist, feel her breathing speed up as he sucked his way from the base of her neck up to her jaw.

“You know what would be even better?” Mariah asked breathlessly.

“Hmm?” There was a soft, earthy scent coming from her skin, mingling with the floral smell of her shampoo, that was making Rick a little unwilling to answer properly.

Mariah tilted her head to give him better access. He pressed impossibly closer, only to feel her pulling on his hair again, harder, relentlessly, until he obliged and came up for air. He met her eyes with a question in his own, slightly annoyed.

“If you’d come lift up the couch so I can vacuum underneath it.”

“What?” Rick gaped at her as she giggled. To say that caught him off guard would be the understatement of the fucking century, but he wasn’t giving up his plans for the day any easier than she was. “I thought I told you I had better things to do.”

He tugged at her shirt and she lifted her arms, letting him take it the rest of the way off. Fucking finally.

“Did you?” Mariah asked, feigning innocence even as her flush was spreading down her chest, almost as pink as the lace on her bra. She wrapped her arms around his neck and arched up against him, face suddenly mere centimeters from his. “You might have to remind me.”

That, Rick thought, as he claimed her mouth once again, he would agree to do.

#mayblade 2023 #beyblade #once upon a time there was going to be more actual cleaning in this but we got derailed somehow #also if I fall behind on posting this week know that it's because I'm stupid busy #also reaching a stretch of prompts that I have to wing more than some others #remarkable how these two events coincided perfectly #rickiah #azrfic #azikarue #azikarue394

[azikarue]

Rick/Mariah | FFN Rating: T | 5 of 6 for Valentine’s Day 2023

Mariah has a talent for uncomfortable conversations. Rick's working on his strategy for getting out of them.

#beyblade #rickiah #I ended up really enjoying this one #I like them all but this might be one of my faves #last installment will be tomorrow but it needs some edits still #azikarue #azikarue394 #azrfic #kiss series 2023

[azikarue]

MayBlade 2022 : Day 20 : Wings

All Starz + Mariah (minor Rick/Mariah) | FFN Rating: T | FFN Link ❖ “How the hell did it come to this?”

Rick meant the question, muttered low under his breath, to be rhetorical, but Emily turned to him and said, “I wonder that every time I’m stuck babysitting you three.”

He was going to assume she meant him, Michael, and Eddy, not Mariah whose back they were currently conversing over. He scowled at her and she took a sip of her water with lemon in response. Emily was lucky Mariah was sandwiched between them in the booth, or he might have tipped her cup back while she drank.

“Don’t loop me in with those bozos,” he grumbled, jabbing his thumb across the table.

Michael and Eddy were sharing the other booth. Currently they were leaning over the table, pointing to something on the menu that Mariah was taking a keen interest in. Rick knew better than to think they were giving her a friendly recommendation – he’d been to this restaurant before.

“The Ghost Pepper Wing Challenge,” Michael said with grandeur, enunciating every word for maximum emphasis.

“Complete that baby and we all eat for free,” Eddy added, “if you think you can handle it.”

Rick groaned and massaged the bridge of his nose. He was getting a migraine. It happened a lot when he was around the other All Starz for extended periods of time. It didn’t help that he’d finished his first beer before the waitress had returned to take their food order. Now he had nothing to drown his irritation with until she came back.

“You don’t have to do it, Mariah.” He ignored the way she looked up at him curiously in favor of glaring at Eddy and Michael. “They put everyone up to it because they’re too cheap to pay for their own shit.”

Eddy rolled his eyes, that dumb cocky grin never leaving his face.

Michael scoffed and said, “Please, I own baseball gloves that cost more than all of our lunches combined.”

“We just like to know if people can do it,” Eddy added innocently before Michael could go off on the usual tangent about whether Rawlings or Wilson gloves were better. “None of us have been able to.”

“None of you?” Mariah asked, peering around the table at the rest of them. Rick could tell by the elevation of her eyebrows that her interest officially piqued and fought the urge to groan again. He really wished he had another beer.

“Well, Emily’s never tried,” Eddy amended.

“I have better things to do than wreck my digestive system so you can get a free meal,” she said, not even bothering to look up from her phone. She was probably answering work emails because she had no idea how to take a day off.

“What do you even have to do?” Mariah asked, looking puzzled by Emily’s words.

Michael and Eddy bumped fists victoriously, happy to have claimed another victim. Emily’s gaze snapped up from her phone in disbelief. She probably assumed, like Rick did, that Mariah was smart enough not to be suckered in by their teammates.

“Curiosity killed the fucking cat,” Rick muttered.

“The goal is to eat half a dozen ghost pepper wings in under five minutes,” Michael said, ignoring Rick’s commentary. He was craning his neck in search of a waitress, eager to get the ball rolling.

“That sounds easy.”

“They’re whole wings. And you aren’t allowed to drink anything or throw them up,” Eddy chimed in. He was either pacing himself with his beer or talking too much – Rick was gonna go with the latter – but he took a long swig before continuing. “They’re probably the spiciest wings in the city. I swear they’re hotter than normal ghost peppers.”

“Please. How many ghost peppers have you actually had?” Rick asked skeptically. He was tired of this bullshit already, which was exactly why he didn’t seek out Michael and Eddy for company.

Before Eddy could come up with a good lie for Rick to call him out on, Mariah rested a hand on Rick’s forearm and squeezed. That was a surefire way to get his attention. And to make Eddy waggle his eyebrows like a douche. Rick looked at her hand, then her face, and raised an eyebrow in a silent question.

“How many did you eat?”

“What?”

“How many ghost pepper wings did you eat before you had to throw in the towel?” Mariah asked more specifically. There was a mischievous smirk curling onto her lips and Rick knew there was no way she was backing down now. “I want to know how many I have to eat to beat your record.”

Rick answered “four” at the same time Emily said “three and a half” and Eddy snickered. Michael was too busy kneeling backwards on his seat, flirting his way through the wing order, to notice anything else. Their waitress was blushing and definitely slipped him her phone number before she left. Rick wanted to leave too – so fucking bad.

“Well, I’ll just shoot for all six,” Mariah said. She took a drink of water in preparation and then slid the glass to the other side of the table into Eddy’s waiting hands. “I can handle spice.”

“Famous last words,” Michael laughed. He had his phone out and was plugging in the waitress’s number already.

It didn’t take long for the wings to come. Their waitress delivered them flanked by two other employees. One of them held an extra bottle of ghost pepper sauce marked with a skull and crossbones. Without prompting, he drizzled some on top of Mariah’s already smothered wings.

“Ready?” the other one asked, thumb hovering over the button on a stopwatch.

Mariah nodded and the staff began a countdown. Rick had forgotten how much of a fucking production this was, as several other patrons stood up at their seats or gathered around to watch. Eddy was counting down with the crowd and Michael had already begun filming the challenge on his phone. Emily was the only one who looked as annoyed as Rick felt.

When the count reached zero, Mariah dug in.

She seemed to have a system for breaking and eating the wings, and she left the cleanest bones he’d ever seen. He let himself be a little impressed, even as he watched for signs that the ghost pepper was getting to her. The sauce was making his eyes water from where he was sitting, for crying out loud.

Once she passed wing number four, the crowd started to get even more pumped up. Eddy and Michael were banging their fists on the table and there were people chanting Mariah’s name. This was gonna be all over the internet later and Rick couldn’t even give a fuck because he was too busy staring at her in total disbelief.

When she tossed the last bone from the last wing down on the plate, the crowd roared. Michael and Eddy leapt to their feet to congratulate her with a round of high-fives. Emily looked shell shocked. The waitress was the most helpful of all and set a glass of milk down in front of Mariah, which she accepted gratefully.

Amid all the chaos, she beamed at Rick with eyes rimmed in red and fingers still coated in wing sauce. It was absolute fucking insanity that he had to tamp down the urge to kiss her. He could only laugh and shake his head.

#mayblade 2022 #beyblade #hahaha what if I wrote Wings about chicken wings? lol jk...unless?? #I had way too much fun with this actually #rickiah #azikarue #azikarue394 #azrfic

[azikarue]

MayBlade 2022 : Day 7 : Lace

Rick/Mariah | FFN Rating: T | FFN Link ❖ Rick was getting used to Mariah taking him by surprise. She wasn't half as sneaky as she liked to think, but she had a habit of deciding things and crossing boundaries without consulting him.

They'd started sharing a room during her stays when she started sleeping in his. She'd gotten him into a routine of grocery shopping on Sundays and laundry on Wednesdays. Saturday nights were date nights. One time he'd come home to his living room redecorated, because she'd taken it upon herself to do so.

Rick bitched about all of it at first, but she was just as stubborn as he was when she wanted to be, which was always. She could dig her heels in like no other. In the end it was always more appealing to decide he didn't give a shit than to listen to her harping on.

So when he came home to the unexpected surprise of her wearing his clothes, it was par for the course.

“Oh, hey Rick!” She beamed at him from the corner armchair and tucked a bookmark into her novel. She was always so happy to see him.

“What the hell are you wearing?” he scoffed, eyeing her up and down.

She had on one of his tank tops and a pair of his sweats. She had to tie the shirt up in a knot and pull the drawstring of the pants as tight as it could go to keep them from falling off. The sleeve was still sliding off of her shoulder and he could see the pink lace of her bra peeking out where the arm holes were way too big.

“They’re your clothes, Rick – you don’t get to make fun.”

When she stood up, the pants dragged on the floor. There had to be an extra foot of material gathered around her ankles.

“I’m not making fun of the clothes,” he said with a smirk, tossing his jacket over the back of the couch.

Mariah huffed and screwed her face into a glare that was cuter than it was menacing. It was a sure sign she wasn’t taking his teasing seriously, because she could be pretty damn terrifying when she tried. Not that he’d ever admit it when she was a whole foot shorter than him and easily flung over one of his shoulders.

“Well if you weren’t so ridiculously large,” she shot back and shuffled over to pick up his jacket. She had this thing about coats being in the closet where they belonged. Rick didn’t understand why they had to put away things he used on a daily basis but keep five pillows on the bed that they never slept on. “If you were the size of a normal human, I’d fit in your clothes just fine.”

Rick smirked and waited until she was halfway to the closet to say, “You’ve never complained about my size before.”

She squeaked and tripped on a pant leg.

It only took one of Rick’s longer strides to reach her before she hit the ground and snag her around the waist. Then he hoisted her up onto the kitchen counter amid her protests. His jacket was abandoned somewhere on the ground. He couldn’t give a shit about that when her borrowed shirt had slid even further off center, showcasing the delicate scalloped edge of her bra.

“You did that on purpose!”

He squeezed the smallest part of her waist where his hands had come to rest and she inhaled sharply, arched her back just a little.

“And what are you gonna do about it?” he asked, leaning in. He knew what he wanted her to do about it.

Mariah’s eyes gleamed and narrowed. She grabbed a fistful of his shirt and pulled him so hard towards her that she even slid forward some. She was strong for someone so petite and it was one of the things that drove him fucking crazy about her.

Her legs locked around his back and her lips met his in a deep, rough kiss. When he smirked against her mouth, happy to have gotten his way, she sank both pointed canines into his tongue in retaliation. He hissed. She knew those things hurt, just as well as she knew he didn’t mind the sting.

His hiss tapered off into a groan when she tangled her hand tight in his hair, between his ponytail and scalp. She pulled his head back, even though she was the one that had kissed him in the first place, and redirected his mouth to the base of her neck.

“Bossy,” he mumbled against her golden skin. Despite his protest, he was already hooking her bra strap with one finger and coaxing it down over her shoulder to join the sleeve of her pilfered shirt. He followed the path with his mouth, Mariah’s nails tightening against his scalp with every kiss.

“And what are you gonna do about it?” It pissed him off that her voice was so steady when her chest was heaving with every breath.

Rick growled. He pinched her ass with one hand and went for her drawstring with the other.

“I’m gonna see if your underwear match your ridiculous bra.”

#mayblade 2022 #beyblade #I just love Rick and Mariah together - she doesn't take his shit #last time I swore in a MayBlade update it didn't show up in the tag #we'll see what happens this time #azikarue #azikarue394 #azrfic #rickiah #this started as an excuse to write them kissing #then it gained a little substance #then devolved again when I thought of that dumb joke you're welcome

[azikarue]

Just A Moment : Chapter 27 : Fruits

Rick/Mariah, White Tigers | FFN Rating: M (for language) | FFN Link ❖

“What the hell is a loquat?”

Kevin snickered. He had some balls for someone less than a third of Rick’s size. Even factoring in the recent growth spurt that enabled him to look Mariah in the eyes without breaking his neck, the kid was too wiry to be laughing at Rick, of all people.

“It’s also called a Chinese plum,” Gary chimed in. Rick liked him well enough; he was the only one of the White Tigers, besides Mariah, who hadn’t made his life a living hell since he’d gotten to their training camp.

He’d expected Lee to be an asshole, what with Rick kind of, sort of dating his sister. And Kevin’s wisecracks were always bound to get on his nerves. But the worst thing was Ray’s remarkable ability to have a dopey childhood memory to share in every conversation.

Nine times out of ten, Ray’s stories hinted that he and Mariah were in some weird puppy love at the time. Lee loved to double down with comments about how cute she used to be following him around. Rick didn’t give a shit past wishing his life didn’t revolve around different groups of people who drove him up the fucking wall.

Maybe there was something to Mariah saying he had a short fuse.

To make things worse, he was forced to share a cabin with Ray at night. Rick wasn’t that carnal of a guy, but it would’ve been easier to stomach Mariah’s friends if he could at least have her to himself when the sun went down. Instead there were conversations with Ray that fizzled out quickly once they covered everything they had in common: beyblading and Max Tate.

“Pff, come on Gary – he doesn’t know what that is either.” Kevin’s snarky voice made a vein throb in Rick’s temple.

“Oh,” Gary said, almost sounding disappointed. His expression brightened when he explained, “They’re small fruits you can eat raw, or they can be used to make jams and jellies—”

“All you need to know,” Kevin continued, ignoring Gary rattling off his list, “is that they’re delicious—”

“—fruit wine and smoothies—”

“—and they’re Mariah’s favorite—”

“—oh and don’t forget the pies and tarts!”

“—and no one but Ray has ever gotten any down for her,” Kevin finished, fixing Rick with a meaningful look.

Whatever its purpose, all that did was make Rick want to grab him by the ponytail and fling him into the sunset. He managed to quell the urge and glared testily back and forth between the two of them.

Gary was obliviously staring towards the top of the loquat cliff, but Kevin met his gaze with an innocence he probably hadn’t actually possessed a day in his life.

With a huff, Rick grumbled, “And why should I care?”

“Well,” Kevin sighed, too nonchalantly, “we just thought if you were trying to woo Mariah…” He trailed off at the end and offered Rick a flippant shrug.

“We’re way past ‘wooing’,” Rick snorted with a roll of his eyes.

Whatever Kevin considered ‘wooing’, Rick could guarantee he’d done the exact fucking opposite. Hell, the only reason he and Mariah were a thing in the first place was because she came onto him. Rick hadn’t been trying to attract her. He’d been vehemently against the idea of anything even a little serious when she practically moved in, all of her own volition.

If he hadn’t managed to drive Mariah away by now, it was safe to say he was stuck with her. And if Kevin’s antics were supposed to send him into a tizzy and make him look like a fucking idiot trying to prove himself, it wasn’t going to work on Rick.

Kevin’s visible eyebrow arched toward his hairline and he exchanged a look with Gary.

“Uh… Don’t let Lee hear you say that,” Gary advised uneasily.

Rick let out a bark of laughter.

“I’m not scared of Lee.”

“You still shouldn’t let him hear you talk about Mariah like that. It could get ugly,” Kevin said, looking almost as if he would enjoy watching Rick and Lee get into it. At least Gary’s concern seemed genuine.

Rick scowled. He hadn’t meant what he said in the way they took it, but explaining that would be a waste of time; they wouldn’t believe him and if Lee wanted to get riled up about something, there was no use trying to stop him. With one last scoff, Rick turned on his heel and headed back toward the main camp.

He didn’t think about the loquats or Kevin’s challenge for the rest of that day or most of the ones that followed.

Instead he wore away the enamel on his teeth, grinding them to make it through Ray’s stories and Lee’s suspicious stares and Kevin’s snark. Sometimes he caught them looking at him with puzzled faces, like they were trying to figure out why the hell Rick had come in the first place. All of that, combined with the fact that he wondered the exact same fucking thing, made his head ache.

Mariah claimed it was the heat. He wasn’t shy about telling her otherwise.

In any case, the only relief he got was when she’d pull him under the crushing weight of the falls and let the water go to work on his tense muscles. Then, if none of the other White Tigers were lurking around, she’d climb into his arms and kiss him hard enough to bruise.

Unfortunately, those moments were few and far between, and the rest of the time her friends were as unbearable as ever.

“Just like old times,” Lee chuckled one evening when they were all gathered around a campfire.

Mariah was caramelizing some type of dessert over the flames. Ray was at her side, handing her whatever she needed before she could even reach for it. Lee was watching them like he had the wedding half planned. Gary was looking at the food in a similar way.

Rick sat farther back than the rest of them – nighttime was the only time White Tiger Hills wasn’t hot as balls and he wasn’t gonna ruin that by sweating it out by the fire – and ignored the looks Kevin was shooting his way. He was really fucking annoyed, but letting Kevin know that would be tantamount to admitting he was jealous.

And he wasn’t. Not even when Mariah topped the cobbler-y concoction with a layer of fresh whipped cream and Ray dolloped some onto her nose and everyone laughed except him.

Kevin was the only one who noticed his sour mood. Rick knew he’d find a way to be a pain in the ass about it and his suspicions were confirmed when Kevin accepted a plate and said, “Imagine how good this would be with loquats instead.”

The enunciation and shit-eating grin were entirely for Rick’s benefit. He flipped Kevin off as covertly as possible as the boys all made noises of agreement.

“If only,” Mariah sighed and handed Rick his plate. She lowered herself to the ground beside him, using his shoulder to keep steady on the way down. She didn’t need to, but Rick noticed she took any opportunity to casually touch him.

He took a bite to hide his satisfied grin.

“They’re your favorite for a reason,” Ray acknowledged, golden eyes flicking in Mariah’s direction fondly.

Mariah’s answering smile curled up and died in his brain when he bunked down that night.

Ray fell asleep after their usual idle chitchat, lucky asshole. Rick was stuck laying awake, feet and ankles dangling off the bottom of the cot, sweat pouring down his neck, and mosquitoes trying to eat him alive. Every time he got close to sleep, he thought of Mariah smiling at Ray and felt the urge to pulverize something.

It had to be this damn place getting to him, because Rick was not a jealous person. He talked big because he could back it up. He didn’t need to prove himself. It didn’t matter if Ray could pull some fancy moves with Driger and bring back a handful of bruised fruit. It especially didn’t matter if he did it for Mariah’s attention – Rick got that without even fucking trying, thank you very much. And he could blade circles around Ray any day.

“For fuck’s sake,” he grumbled and tossed an arm over his eyes, hoping to force himself into a half-decent sleep.

The next morning, before Ray could strike up some pointless conversation, Rick marched out of camp to the loquat cliffs. He had at least an hour until breakfast – the White Tigers had to meditate first – plenty of time to put Rock Bison through its paces or however the fuck he could justify this.

Rick sneered. The cliffs looked exactly the same as they had when he’d stood there with Kevin. Rick had wondered why the hell he was there that time, too. Before he could agonize over it, he readied his launcher and, with a growl, pulled the ripcord and sent his beyblade up the side.

Rock Bison made it two-thirds of the way up before losing momentum. Rick swore as it tumbled down to land at his feet. He picked it up and wiped the dust off absentmindedly, busy studying the groove it’d carved into the cliff face. He’d been too heavy-handed and the friction slowed his blade down.

With that in mind, he launched again. And again. And again.

He got aggravatingly close more than once, only for the heaviness of his blade to catch up with it and drag it back down. Another time it bounced off of a protruding bit of rock and ricocheted to the ground. He even tried Drop Rock, and ended up diving out of the way to avoid plummeting debris.

He didn’t think the White Tigers would notice the cliff was tilted more to the right afterwards, but he also figured it was better not to do that again.

“Motherfucker,” he snarled.

As if in reply, a single loquat tumbled down the cliff and rolled to a stop in front of him. One look and it was obvious that the offending piece of fruit had been pecked at already. It took a lot of restraint not to smash it into the dirt.

When Rick finally returned to camp, he was hot and sweaty and in a piss-poor mood. He was on his way to drown his frustrations under the surging waterfall, when he ran into the last person he wanted to see.

“Where have you been?” Kevin asked, striding up with is hands in his pockets and a wide, knowing smirk on his lips.

“None of your fucking business,” Rick answered and kept walking.

Kevin, having no sense of self-preservation, followed.

“You didn’t go to the cliffs, by any chance?” he asked smugly.

Rick ignored him and took longer strides to get away faster. Kevin, the little idiot, didn’t get the hint and practically jogged to keep up. Rick could see the rest of his team looming on the horizon and grew tenser.

“Hope it wasn’t anything I said about Mariah and Ray,” Kevin lied through his teeth; there was a smile audible in his voice. “I’m sure she’d only give him a little kiss if he came back with loqua – hey!”

Kevin’s speech broke off in an indignant squawk. Rick had grabbed a fistful of the pipsqueak’s shirt and hoisted him up so his toes were just barely grazing the dirt. He heard the sound of the other White Tigers calling out and running over, but he stared Kevin down without loosening his grip.

“I. Don’t. Give. A. Shit.” He enunciated each word and leaned over so they were nearly nose to nose. Even if he didn’t intimidate Kevin, he could at least shut him up. “And even if I did, your little quest is fucking impossible without a higher starting point. I’m not a fucking idiot!”

Kevin tried and failed to hide a smile.

“How long did you try?” he snickered.

A vein throbbed in Rick’s temple.

“What are you doing?!” Lee shouted, skidding to a halt with the others. His dark brows were drawn together menacingly. “Put Kevin down before I make you!”

Rick snorted and rolled his eyes, but let Kevin go.

It was the smartest thing Kevin had done all day to take a couple of steps back before bursting into laughter.

Rick clenched his fists and saw the White Tigers close ranks around Kevin. At least, Ray and Lee did, looking very serious and very angry respectively. Gary was watching Kevin laugh, seemingly deep in thought. Mariah appeared at Rick’s elbow and fixed Kevin with a suspicious glare.

“Kevin, how many times do I have to tell you not to antagonize Rick?” she asked testily, settling her hands on her hips.

Rick could fight his own battles, but it felt damn good to see Lee’s eyes widen in shock at his sister’s stance. Felt damn good to see Ray look Mariah up and down like he’d never seen her before, too, like he was just now realizing she wanted Rick and not him. It felt good, even if Kevin started laughing harder.

“It’s—,” Kevin wiped an imaginary tear out of his eye and choked back another laugh before he could continue. “It’s his own fault for making it so easy!”

“Kevin…” Mariah growled.

“What happened?” Ray interceded, more diplomatically than Rick would have expected. He glanced at Rick before settling his eyes back on Kevin, waiting for an explanation.

“It doesn’t fucking matter,” Rick said at the same exact time Kevin blurted out, “The big dummy thought he’d try getting loquats down for Mariah.”

The tone in his voice when he said Mariah’s name was obnoxiously sing-song and Rick wanted to clobber him.

“Only because you said Ray could get them down,” he shot back, refusing to feel embarrassed and getting angrier instead, “which is bullshit because if I can’t, then he sure as hell can’t.”

There was a pregnant pause. Rick readied himself to wholeheartedly deny any jealousy they were about to accuse him of. Instead, Gary spoke.

“But Kevin, only Mystel can reach, remember?”

Rick grit his teeth. He could hear blood rushing in his ears. He fucking knew it. Where the hell was that information when Gary had come with Kevin to show Rick the cliffs in the first place?

“We always have to wait for them to fall,” Ray said to Rick, bringing him back to the present. His tone was apologetic, like he was the parent of a child who’d played a mean prank. Thankfully – or not because Rick could go for a good brawl right now – he didn’t seem offended by Rick calling himself the better beyblader. “Mystel knocked them down by leaping halfway up the cliff face before launching his beyblade. I’d never seen anything like it.”

“Yeah, that guy was a freak of nature,” Lee chimed in, shaking his head at the memory. When he looked at Rick next, he was smirking. “Why did you take Kevin’s word for it, anyway?”

“He’s so gullible,” Kevin snickered.

Rick bristled.

Mariah looped her arm through his and cuddled up to his side.

“I think it was super sweet and romantic of you, Rick,” she said, gazing up at him with twinkling eyes. Her free hand pried his out of its clenched position so she could lace their fingers together. Something in her eyes – or in the way she pressed insistently against him with a soft sigh – made his face feel hot.

Rick cleared his throat.

He could feel her teammates staring. Lee’s mouth was visibly hanging open at the corner of his field of vision. For some reason, Kevin was still laughing under his breath. He was debating tearing them all a new one when Mariah began pulling him in the general direction of the waterfall.

“Come on, Rick – let’s go cool off.”

She ordered the others not to follow and, as she led him away from a sputtering Lee to the promise of some uninterrupted alone time, he thought that maybe the whole shitshow was worth it after all.

#meant what I said when I said I'd finish these #then I barely wrote for several months #and now here we are again #Rick says 'fuck' a lot so pretty sure FFN would consider this an M rating? #Does it even matter if FFN is a lawless land nowadays? #azikarue #azikarue394 #azrfic #beyblade #rickiah #tagging: #mayblade 2022 #for the sake of blog organization

[azikarue]

Some thoughts and updates and reminders for myself:

My first few MayBlade fics don't suck as much as I remember!

Sometimes slapping an ending on for the sake of completion and moving onto the next prompt is okay. You can come back and fix it.

These past few weeks have been so busy for me and May looks even crazier. 🙃 Despite that, I have six prompts finished and three edited and I'm going to try to maintain some kind of momentum.

I am still, somehow, feeling rusty. Gonna keep writing anyway and hope trust the feeling will fade with time.

As long as I finish earlier than I did last year, I'm gonna consider MayBlade a success for myself. Balance is important and I won't torture myself with extra hours at the computer on days that writing is just not happening.

First three days of MayBlade = Saint Shields, TyHil, Rickiah ♥

#this is my jumble of thoughts before I blink and it's June already #azrupdate #azikarue #azikarue394

[azikarue]

Here's a little update:

Max/Mariam (published) Tala/Julia (published) Enrique/Queen (finished) Ray/Salima (finished) Tyson/Hilary (finished, awaiting edits) Rick/Mariah (finished, may edit once more) Kenny/Emily (shelved) Daichi/Ming-Ming (shelved)

I'm sorry I didn't get to post an update before Valentine's Day. My schedule is always a little crazy at the beginning of the week and I was more focused on getting the first fics uploaded.

The two I was expecting not to finish did end up unwritten. I never 100% scrap ideas, so there's a possibility they'll show up in some capacity later on. BUT, I'm excited that I got six finished. Truthfully I've had a hard time finding my groove this year, but I know it'll come with consistency. At least, I hope lol

As far as posting order goes, the Rickiah and TyHil ones will be last. The TyHil needs a lot of editing and I want to make sure it's in good shape before it goes up. Posting order for the other two is TBD.

#azrupdate #let's be honest - I'm the target audience for the Enrique/Queen so it doesn't matter when it gets posted lol #azikarue #azikarue394

[azikarue]

2021 Fic Anthology/Recap

In 2021 I set a goal to publish or update one story on my FFN account every month. While I didn't achieve the consistency I was aiming toward (life got nuts and I didn't upload September-November), I did manage at least twelve updates for the year.

I'm proud of myself for that accomplishment, especially given the nearly two year gap between uploads before 2021. Even before then, it had been years since I wrote and posted regularly. It felt good to rediscover my love of storytelling and push myself.

I have slightly different plans for 2022, but I wanted to take a moment and put my thoughts on each of my 2021 fics down somewhere, so I have them to look back on.

(This will also serve as my list of 2021 fics, since I didn't post about each one on my main when they were published.)

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Bliss

Summary: Life isn't always easy, but there's a certain bliss in tackling it together that makes everything worthwhile. Pairing: Max/MariamChapters: 4/15Words: 16,593 (so far)Rated: T

I actually began laying the groundwork for Bliss in the beginning of 2020. I'm a sucker for domesticity and I had a list of random tidbits I wanted to write Max/Mariam for. I half-started several chapters, then promptly lost my thunder. I didn't pick it back up again until I shared them with @redwheeler and she, along with a Beyblade rewatch we started together, inspired me to keep going.

It felt like a huge undertaking at the time, especially once I decided I wanted to connect all the chapters into one long glimpse into Max and Mariam's life together as adults. I hadn't done much writing and I felt ridiculously rusty going into it, but I'm happy with how it's turned out so far. I'm excited to continue (finish?) it in 2022.

Even if it may not be the first fic with multiple chapters I finish in its entirety (I've been working on something else on the sidelines and jury's out on which I'll finish first), it will always be the one that reignited my love for writing.

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The More Things Change

Summary: Joseph makes it a point to study the changes in Mariam's relationship. What those changes mean for him, he'd rather not think about. Pairing: Max/Mariam, but the main focus is on Mariam and Joseph's sibling relationship Chapters: 1/1 Words: 6,076 Rated: K+

This is probably one of my favorite things I've ever written. Stemming from an overflow of ideas that wouldn't fit into Bliss chapters how I wanted, it evolved into a sweet sibling fic about watching someone you love grow into a new life with their significant other. I'm proud of it.

That being said, it gave me SO MUCH grief while writing it that I wanted to scrap it at several points. I didn't think it would ever come together how I pictured, but in the end I'm my own worst critic and I think the finished product was worth the struggle.

I thoroughly enjoyed writing from a new character's point of view. Usually I limit myself to my MaxMariam comfort zone, but sometimes I want to write something completely different. This was a good compromise in a way that it was a little of both. And since it was generally well-received, it gave me the courage to step out of my comfort zone more throughout the year.

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A Welcome Distraction

Summary: Sometimes Max and Mariam can't keep their hands to themselves, but it's always a welcome distraction. Pairing: Max/MariamChapters: 5/5 Words: 4,002 Rated: T

I wrote A Welcome Distraction for Valentine's Day. RedWheeler wanted more Max/Mariam kisses and I love to write small, detail-oriented scenes. It's a cute, comforting collection, loosely linked to the timeline I'm building in Bliss. I guess technically this is the first multi-chaptered fic I finished, but since it's just a bunch of kisses that needed no plot or outline, I don't see it that way.

This fic was an opportunity for me to practice some diversity in my writing. I didn't want to approach each kiss the same way or use too much repetitive language and have every chapter read exactly the same. It was a nice exercise in thinking outside the box for me, as I find that I fall back on the same wording a lot of the time.

I also wrote every chapter of this before I began posting it, which I think would be how I prefer to do things from now on. It's too late for Bliss, but I've started another multi-chaptered story that won't see the light of day until it's 100% complete. I enjoyed the regular upload schedule.

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Up His Sleeve

Summary: Rick's not dating Mariah. He doesn't know where Max got that idea. Pairing: tiny bit of implied Rick/Mariah, Max/Mariam on the side Chapters: 1/1 Words: 1,734 Rated: T

This is the first fic I've written in one sitting since the drabble days. I found the idea in one of my many lists of ideas and the stars just aligned. Even though it's short, I think it feels complete. It's funny to think this would've been something I considered an average word count for myself back when I started writing fanfic.

Up His Sleeve was another foray into writing characters that aren't Max (though he's there) and Mariam. I had a lot of fun writing from Rick's POV; he's just so different from my norm and I enjoyed the undercurrent of annoyance and bitching I got to infuse the narrative with.

Also, even though a potential relationship is kind of central to the plot, it wasn't focused on romance like my fics are prone to. In a lot of ways, this felt like a breath of fresh air for me, and it never fails to make me giggle (which might be conceited, but oh well).

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Seize the Day

Summary: Tyson isn't a morning person, but he can make an exception when it comes to bothering Hilary. Pairing: Tyson/Hilary Chapters: 1/1 Words: 3,989 Rated: T

I was absolutely terrified to write Seize the Day. RedWheeler had asked me a couple times about writing TyHil and I kept putting it off. Part of the reason is because I didn't have any ideas I liked, another part is because I envy her characterization and love her TyHil and I didn't think I'd be able to do them justice. To be honest, I'm still not 100% sure I hit the mark.

That being said, once I got in the groove I really did love writing this one. Tyson and Hilary's banter was a lot of fun and I got to write Gramps for the first time, which was an experience.

For my first time writing a pairing other than Max/Mariam in 2021, I'm proud of it. I want to continue pushing myself out of my comfort zone in 2022 when I can, so who knows - if inspiration strikes, I may revisit some TyHil. I really do love them.

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Wherever I'm With You

Summary: When you spend so much time traveling the world, home is important. Thankfully, home doesn't always need to be a place. It took them finding each other to realize that. Pairing: Ray/Salima Chapters: 1/1 Words: 5,203 Rated: T

Let me start by saying that this fanfic was ENTIRELY self-indulgent and I love it for that reason. It's one of my favorites.

I wrote this at a point in the year where I was starting to feel more bogged down than enchanted by writing. I've never felt entitled to anyone's feedback, but nonetheless I was starting to wonder what the point of writing was if I wasn't enjoying myself and engagement was down. I felt like I was writing, at times, to an audience that didn't exist. I know as a writer we're told to write for ourselves, but sometimes that bit of frustration seeps in through the cracks. I knew I had to do something to get myself out of my funk, because I didn't want a hobby I genuinely enjoy so much to feel like a chore. The problem wasn't going to be fixed by more people telling me they loved what I do - it was going to be fixed by me, myself, and I loving what I do.

This fic worked like a charm.

I purposefully wrote this one to cater to myself and it was cathartic. I walked away feeling rejuvenated and not giving a flying fuck about validation from outside sources. It was empowering. I didn't realize how much I was seeking approval from others before I decided to write entirely for myself.

As such, a lot of my personal headcanons crept into it and it felt good to finally see them typed out in front of me. Ray and Salima have a special place in my heart as my very first Beyblade ship; I love how quickly and easily they connected with one another in the series. It was fitting that they'd be the ship I wrote about to ignite my passion again.

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A Chance Encounter

Summary: During the Egyptian leg of the World Championships, Max runs into the last person he expects. As usual, she leaves him with more questions than answers. Saint Shields in G-Rev AU snippet. Pairing: N/A Chapters: 1/1 Words: 4,710 Rated: K+

Another favorite of mine. ♥ I've never actually written a proper AU before, but the lack of Saint Shield involvement in G Rev was criminal, so I had to.

I originally wrote this for RedWheeler's birthday, but it was a few months before I posted it online. I wanted something Max/Mariam that was different from anything I'd ever written, and this idea fit the bill.

I was proud of myself for showing restraint with this one, because I've struggled in the past with wanting to rush through stories to get to all the satisfying details, and I purposefully avoided a lot while writing A Chance Encounter. So much so that I have tons of notes on how I would expand this AU if I made it into an entire story, which I actually plan on doing one of these days. Just fell in love with this.

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Date of Denial

Summary: Max had no idea what was going on between Rick and Mariah, but he did know one thing: It was stupid to think having dinner with them would change that. Well, at least Mariam was there. Pairing: Max/Mariam with a side of implied Rick/Mariah Chapters 1/1 Words: 10, 429 Rated: T

Date of Denial was a long time coming. RedWheeler and I had been joking about a Rick/Mariah and Max/Mariam double date (that Rick didn't quite realize was a double date, hence denial) at least since the beginning of the year. My first timestamp on any related drafts was January of 2021, but it's possible we were tossing this around even before. I told her I'd write it one day, and I'm glad I was able to keep that promise.

I was nervous for a while about juggling so many characters, especially Mariah because I hadn't written her before, but it turned out to be a blast. There were so many dynamics to play with that were new to me, and it was a good practice in characterization, which is something I'm constantly trying to improve.

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Here's to Many More

Summary: Lucky for Max, Christmas with the family eventually means Christmas with Mariam. A glimpse at three Christmases of Max's throughout his relationship with Mariam. Pairing: Max/Mariam Chapters: 1/1 Words: 8,363 Rated: T

I feel as if this was another really self-indulgent fanfic. I was on the fence about writing a Christmas fic (my heart wanted to, but my head was stuck on the logistics), but I'm glad I let RedWheeler talk me into it. It's self-indulgent because, 1. I love Christmas, 2. I used it as an opportunity to introduce an OC who needed to make some kind of appearance before another story I have in my to-write pile. Hopefully it wasn't too obtrusive. I trust myself to add OCs that aren't annoying more now than I ever have, but I know how it can be.

It makes me happy to write about Mariam letting down her walls and coming more fully into Max's circle, even though it comes with its own set of annoyances for her. Just another facet of their relationship I enjoyed exploring more this year.

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And that's a wrap on 2021! All in all, I'm proud of myself. I feel like I've come a long way with my writing. I'm not sure how much of it shows in the published works, but I saw a lot of it in myself behind the scenes.

I can't wait to write more this year. My goal is going to be to write just as much, if not more, but publish less. I want to focus on making headway on some longer projects that take a lot out of me. Not to worry, though - I'll still be around. ;)

Thanks to everyone that read and reviewed these fics! I appreciate you all more than you could possibly know.

#azikarue #azikarue394 #long post #azrfic #maxmar #tyhil #rickiah #beyblade #azrupdate #raysal #azrfic recap