#Cotton: Soft and breathable

[dream-wave-creator]

"All that we see or seem is but a dream within a dream." Edgar Allan Poe

[mischievous-dream-fusion]

"Hold fast to dreams, for if dreams die, life is a broken-winged bird that cannot fly." Langston Hughes

[amittribekids]

Gorgeous and versatile handmade raffia cross body bag with beautiful flower detail.

[tarotwithavi]

How to dress according to your venus sign

Can also be applied for Rising and mid heaven.

For entertainment purposes only!

Aries venus

Bold. you should embrace bold and adventurous styles that reflect your fiery and passionate nature. Opt for vibrant, eye-catching colors like red, orange, and hot pink to showcase your enthusiasm and energy. Choose clothing that highlights your individuality, such as unique statement pieces and daring accessories. Aries Venus individuals often enjoy a sporty, active lifestyle, so incorporate athleisure elements into your wardrobe, like sneakers or activewear-inspired outfits. Show off your confident and independent spirit with edgy cuts and styles, like asymmetrical hemlines or bold patterns. Don't be afraid to experiment with fashion and be the trendsetter in your group.

Taurus venus

Taurus venus is for luxurious, earthy, and sensuous attire. Begin with soft, tactile fabrics like silk, velvet, or cashmere in earthy tones such as deep greens, browns, and soft pinks. Your style should prioritize comfort and quality, so invest in well-fitted, timeless pieces like tailored blazers, flowy maxi dresses, or high-waisted trousers. Accessories should be elegant and understated, favoring natural gemstones like emeralds and rose quartz. Shoes should be both stylish and comfortable, such as leather ankle boots or suede loafers. Hair and makeup should be natural and effortless, with loose waves or soft curls and a nude or earth-toned palette. Show off that neck gurlll.

Gemini Venus

you should embrace versatility and a playful sense of style. Gemini is ruled by Mercury, making communication and adaptability key. Opt for outfits that allow you to mix and match, like a wardrobe full of separates, bright colors, and patterns. Experiment with various accessories to express your ever-changing tastes. Consider wearing clothing that incorporates elements of duality or contrast, such as asymmetrical designs or reversible pieces. Gemini is an air sign, so lightweight, breathable fabrics like cotton and silk can be your best friend. Don't forget to change up your style regularly to keep things interesting, as Venus in Gemini individuals thrive on variety and novelty in fashion.

Cancer Venus

You should embrace a style that reflects your emotional and nurturing nature. For example, soft, flowing fabrics in gentle, watery colors like seafoam green, silver, and pastel blues that soothe your sensitive spirit. Incorporate vintage or nostalgic elements into your wardrobe. Embrace feminine, figure-flattering silhouettes that accentuate your curves and emphasize your nurturing qualities. Jewelry with moonstone, pearls, and other iridescent gems complements your lunar sensibilities. Wearcozy, comfortable clothing that exudes warmth and comfort, like oversized sweaters and cardigans. Incorporate subtle touches of sea-inspired accessories, such as seashell-shaped pendants or bracelets.

Leo venus

Channel your inner confidence and glamor. Choose bold and attention-grabbing colors like fiery reds, golds, and vibrant purples. Like luxurious fabrics that exude regality, such as silk or velvet. Incorporate statement pieces like a dramatic, floor-length gown or a tailored suit with a dramatic flair. Don't shy away from sequins, metallics, or animal prints. Accessorize with bold and extravagant jewelry, such as statement necklaces or oversized earrings, and make sure your hair is styled to perfection, whether it's flowing locks or a bold updo. Animal prints and gold jewellery were made for leo venus.

Virgo Venus

Go for clean, practical, and detail-oriented fashion choices. Embrace earthy tones such as muted greens, browns, and neutrals, which resonate with Virgo's grounded nature. Pay attention to the smallest details in your outfit, like perfectly tailored clothing and well-coordinated accessories. Choose modest, well-fitted pieces that emphasize your natural beauty and avoid anything overly flashy or extravagant. Your style should exude professionalism and functionality, so consider incorporating classic pieces like tailored blazers, pencil skirts, and crisp white shirts. Also go for comfortable yet stylish footwear, and keep your hair and makeup understated, emphasizing a natural and polished look. Adding a hint of vintage charm or retro-inspired pieces can also align with Venus in Virgo's appreciation for the past.

Libra Venus

You should embrace elegance and harmony in your attire. Choose clothing that embodies balance and refined taste, such as well-tailored suits or dresses in soft, pastel colors or shades of pink, which resonate with Venus's love for beauty. Opt for outfits with clean lines and symmetrical patterns, as they appeal to Libra's sense of equilibrium. Accessories like tasteful jewelry, scarves, and belts can enhance your look, adding a touch of sophistication. Keep your hair and makeup balanced and graceful, avoiding overly bold or dramatic styles. Ultimately, aim for an ensemble that exudes charm, grace, and a sense of unity to align with the traits associated with Venus in Libra.

Scorpio Venus

Go for dark, intense colors like deep burgundy, black, or dark purple to exude passion and depth. Choose clothing that highlights your curves and adds an element of intrigue, such as form-fitting dresses, lacy lingerie, or leather accents. Incorporate accessories like statement jewelry with mystical or occult symbolism, and don't shy away from bold makeup with smoky eyes and deep, rich lip colors. Embrace fabrics like silk and velvet for their sensuality, and let your clothing choices reveal just enough skin to leave an air of mystery.

Sagittarius Venus

You should go for bold and vibrant colors that reflect your love for exploration and spontaneity. Choose comfortable, travel-friendly outfits that allow you to move freely. Consider loose-fitting bohemian dresses, wide-legged pants, and flowy tops for a laid-back yet stylish look. Accessorize with statement pieces like oversized sunglasses, feathered jewelry, or colorful scarves to showcase your eclectic taste. Footwear should be practical yet fashionable, such as comfy sandals or unique, eye-catching boots..

Capricorn Venus

You should opt for a classic and sophisticated style that exudes professionalism and ambition. Choose well-tailored, timeless pieces such as tailored blazers, pencil skirts, and crisp white shirts. Earthy and muted colors like black, navy, gray, and olive green are ideal, as they convey a sense of seriousness and authority. Invest in high-quality, durable materials like wool and leather. Accessories should be understated but elegant, such as a simple pearl necklace or a quality leather handbag. Practicality and functionality are key, so go for comfortable yet stylish shoes like classic pumps or ankle boots.

Aquarius Venus

Embody a unique and futuristic style that reflects your individuality and love for unconventional beauty. Go for clothing that incorporates metallic accents, electric blues, and vibrant purples, as these colors resonate with Aquarius energy. Experiment with asymmetrical and avant-garde designs, such as one-shoulder tops or geometric patterns. Statement accessories like chunky silver jewelry, oversized sunglasses, and tech-inspired pieces can add a touch of eccentricity to your look.

Pisces Venus

Embrace a dreamy and romantic style. Opt for flowing, ethereal fabrics like chiffon or silk in soft, oceanic colors like seafoam green, lavender, or aqua. Incorporate loose-fitting and comfortable clothing that allows you to move gracefully. Accessorize with subtle, mystical jewelry such as seashell necklaces, pearl earrings, or pieces featuring fish motifs, as Pisces is associated with the fish symbol. Don't shy away from pastel hues, and consider outfits with a touch of shimmer or iridescence to capture the Pisces love for fantasy and illusion. Flowing maxi dresses, bohemian-inspired attire, or anything reminiscent of a mermaid's allure will resonate.

Let me know your thoughts

[iriswritesforyou]

Mutant Furnace

info - The heating had gone out in the school, Logan decided to help you

Warnings? - Coldness? Reader being from the south?

Word Count: 1,322

Logan had sported his leather jacket since the moment he got it, it was his trademark in a way. He wore it nearly every day and everywhere and you swore he even wore it to bed, even now with the whole heating out  in the school, he didn't really need it, but he wore it. It was the middle of winter and even with Charles and all his money and the heating had gone out. You and the other teachers had rounded up all the blankets and given them to the kids, you had given up everything but one of your own leaving you freezing in bed. It was around midnight now and you had classes in the morning, no matter how much you curled up and tossed around you could feel your fingers and toes go numb. 

Giving up,  you stood up, your teeth chattering and limbs shaking, wrapping your last blanket tightly around you. It was thin and made of a breathable cotton made for decoration, not for keeping warm so it offered little as you slowly made your way out of your room and down into the living room hoping someone had kept the fire going. With every movement your body ached and with every breath you could see it, you haven't grown up with a winter like this, barely ever seeing snow down south. 

It seemed like an eternity as you slowly made your way down the steps of the school, why did there have to be so many? It was quiet as you crept through the house and into the living room with your trembling breathing being the only sound. 

You could have started to cry when you saw the fire had died out and only the embers remained, still you made your way over slowly easing your body on the ground, getting as close to the fire place as you could without being inside of it. You were so focused on getting warm you missed Logan sitting in a chair in the corner of the room wearing that leather jacket. He didn't make a sound as he watched you shaking like a leaf, confused as to why you were awake at this hour and why you weren't curled up under the covers of your bed. You see, Logan had always had a bit of a soft spot for you, everyone knew it too and teased him about it but they never dared to tease you. 

“Kid?” His rough and low voice scared you as you jumped and turned half of your body to look at where his voice came from. 

“Logan?” He noticed how strained your voice was and walked over to you swiftly, crouching down next to you. He immediately noticed how your teeth were chattering and the blue tint to your typically rosy lips, the way your entire body shook worse and worse as the seconds moved by. 

“What are you do- doing down here?” You asked, struggling to make out the proper words “I could ask you the same doll.” 

“ I couldn't sleep, i- it’s too col - cold in here.” 

Logan knew for most people it would have been cold in the school but for him it was only slightly chilly, though you looked like you were freezing, about two seconds away from turning into a popsicle. 

“Why aren’t you in bed then kid? Under the covers where it’s warm?” Your shaking became even worse and your skin became increasingly dull and drained. You shook your head “ I - I gave all o-of my blank - k - ets to the students.” you gave a small laugh lamely and Logan could see your breath in the air “being fr -from the s- s- south and all, I - I don't really do the c- c -cold.” Your eyes flickered down to his leather jacket and how he didn't even look remotely cold “ H- How the hell a - are you n- not freezing?” 

He sat down next to you and shook his head “This is nothing compared to Canada and my mutation allows me to not feel temperatures as much as others.” 

His eyes went to the blanket around you barely managing to trap your body heat “Is that your only blanket?” You nodded. 

You watched as he shrugged off his leather jacket that tonight confirmed he slept in “Here.” He held it out to you and just looked at it dumbfounded, you couldn't really believe that Logan was giving you his jacket. He exhaled deeply and started to reach for your blanket to take it off. “Put it on, it will help, doll.” he said in a gentle tone. 

He helped you as you shook off your blanket and quickly put in his jacket that was too big for you, almost swallowing you whole before wrapping yourself up again. A small selfish part of him loved the way you looked in his jacket, his, on you, something that was too sweet to ever be his. 

It helped a little but not much, still shaking but less so, you thanked him. Logan had hoped that after a few minutes your body would start to warm up but it wasnt looking that way, he could start a fire. 

He unsheathed his claws catching your attention and you watched with unwavering focus as he scraped his claws against the metal on the side of the fireplace making sparks fly, catching the logs. He bent his torso over and blowed into it making a fire appear, you quickly scooted almost on top of it, your body right next to his, shoulder to shoulder. 

He thought you looked truly beautiful in the firelight with it reflecting off your skin and it highlighting the whites of your eyes, like an angel. Several moments passed in silence as he just watched you before you turned towards him, eyes locked onto each other. 

“Thank you” you whispered slowly and he felt your cold breath on his face, he could smell the scent of your hair and body, it was heavenly to him. 

“Well, I can't have one of our best teachers dying of the cold now can I?” you smiled at his words and bent your head down onto his shoulder leaning fully against him, he was so warm and you pushed yourself even closer. 

“You're like a 6 foot heater you know.” The color had now begun to come back to you and you had almost completely stopped shaking but he could still feel how cold you were, even his jacket. 

And in a selfish act that was more for him than for you, he wrapped one arm under your bent knees that were together and the other around your shoulder, picking you up and putting you in his lap. Your body was fully pressed against him now, sitting directly in his lap with his chin resting on his head but you went stiff for a moment before fully relaxing into his touch. 

You both could have spent forever like that, you felt safe in his arms that were tightly wrapped around your waist and he felt like the luckiest mutant in the world. 

With your body temperature finally back to normal a wave of exhaustion crashed into you. Logan kept his eyes fully trained on you as he watched your body fully sag down, eyelids becoming heavy and breathing evening out, he thought you had fallen asleep. Just as we were about to shift so he could lean against the fireplace so he could keep you warm through the night you lifted your neck up to his cheek and pressed your lips against his cheek softly “thank you.”

He froze before taking his hand and running it over your hair “always.” 

That whole night he stayed awake with you in his arms, keeping the fire from dying out and wrapped safely in his jacket in his arms with your blanket covering you both. 

[nothorses]

So I'm thinking of going on low dose T, and ofc I'll get more feedback from doctors when I see them, but I know one of the changes is that you run warmer and have lower heat tolerance, and I'm already kind of heat sensitive (sweating is a sensory ick). Do you or your followers have any kind of coping strategies that have helped with that?

I ran warm before, too, and I'm definitely warmer now! I also have Raynaud's which kind of makes the whole experience a clusterfuck, but that's besides the point. lmao.

I live in a pretty cool/temperate area, so it isn't normally an issue except in the (increasingly horrible) summers, but I've found that the hardest time to stay cool has been at night. I share a bed with my partner who runs even warmer, and it's been 2.5 years of struggling to figure out how to be a comfortable temperature together.

The best advice I can give you is to just stay as far away from synthetic fibers as you can; "sweat wicking" and "cooling" and "athletic" stuff included. It's a lie. They're all plastic, and while they might feel cool to the touch at first, plastic doesn't breathe. It'll trap heat and moisture against your skin after enough time, especially in the form of blankets. (Fuck the Rest Evercool. Worst recommendation I've ever gotten.)

Look for 100% linen, or 100% cotton. I've heard wool also works well, but I haven't had luck with that personally. Woven fabrics are going to be cooler and more breathable than sateen, and waffle weave is like, the single most breathable weave afaik (it's more common in blankets, but some clothes are waffle).

Some of these things can be pretty scratchy at first, and I recommend a couple of washes on a high heat & some fabric softener before you start using them. We were able to break in our waffle blanket super quickly this way! (I know some folks recommend against softener for breathability reasons, but it's the only thing that actually worked for us, and it hasn't impacted breathability). After you break them in, though, cotton and linen fabrics are SUPER soft!

I also recommend staying away from leather. It's natural, but trust me: it's not breathable. It's coveted in outdoor rec spaces BECAUSE it's somewhat waterproof.

Outside of that, I'd really encourage you to lean towards multiple light layers that you can change/remove throughout the day to suit your needs (ex: light tee + fleece + wind/rain layer, maybe throw in a flannel somewhere), instead of one or two heavy ones (ex: shirt + big puffy cold weather jacket). It's a strategy common in the PNW that works great for regulating your temperature when you're dealing with humidity and somewhat unpredictable weather, and imo, it also really translates if you're just generally sensitive to heat and sweat.

Outside of that... depending on where you live, I really recommend having an AC/dehumidifier. Don't bother with trying to rig up a swamp cooler if you're sensitive to sweat- the increased humidity will make things worse. The general advice I heard when researching a good AC was that window units will always be more efficient than portable units (and a mini split is better than either), but if you have to go with a portable unit, go with a dual-hose. They'll be more efficient just because they don't create a vacuum that pulls in warm air from outside. This is the model we settled on- it was really highly recommended and cost effective for what it is, and it's been absolutely fantastic this summer.

Idk how you are about pits, but I wash mine with a benzoyl body wash and then use a deodorant with antiperspirant every day, and I virtually never smell or sweat. 🤷‍♂️ ymmv though

I'm sure folks will have things to add, so check the notes on this post- and good luck!

[delightfultheoristfox]

Some type of skin (and two keys)

Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Reader

Currently crossposting previous works from AO3.

Inspired by "Some type of skin" by AURORA (I have an obsession and it's a Norwegian pale lady)

CW: talk of grief, death and loss, angst, broken promises, hurt/comfort, soft Simon Riley but also angry Simon Riley. Mention of pharmacological drugs.

Masterlist 🦊

𓇬 𓇬 𓇬 𓇬 𓇬 𓇬 𓇬 𓇬 𓇬

The air felt clogged; thickened and uncomfortably warm. You tried to blame it on the closed window and the unrelenting sun that reflected against the glass, but the truth was that you felt awkward in your own skin. The uniform clung to your body like a prison. Once, it had been your armor: the breathable dark green cotton of the tee, the black leather of the belt cinching your waist, until the thick camo trousers. They all felt bulletproof.

Yet, ever since you’d witnessed that bullet tearing a hole into Johnny’s head, each piece of clothing had turned into something akin to a goddamn straitjacket. It replayed in your head ad nauseam until it turned into a living nightmare. Until you saw his bloodless face in everyone around you, until you felt a hole in your own skull, as if his death were an omen of your end, as well.

For the first time in the years you had worked with the task force, you were the one who called for a meeting. Well, it was an informal encounter more than anything. A text you had sent simultaneously to all of them.

“We have to talk. Room 4A in HQ 10AM?”

By mere habit, you’d also sent it to Soap; it wrecked your heart to see the red alert on the right side of your bubble, the small Not Delivered right below it. The cracks shattered further when you received the automated response telling you that the number didn’t exist.

How could it not, when you had accumulated thousands of hours on phone calls? How could it not, when you could scroll for days on the chat and never find the first text he’d ever sent you?

You had tried, one of many sleepless evenings: your thumb almost ached due to the mere motion. Fingertip up. Swipe down. Fingertip up. Swipe down. You found it, then. Something old, ancient. The bubbles were green because iPhones still didn’t have the feature that allowed you to text using internet between Apple devices.

“glad to have you on the team. big boss gave me your number. this is soap anything you need im a text awya.”

“aywa*”

“away !!!!”

You'd laughed and it quickly morphed into strangled cries, until your vision got foggy, and your lids yielded. You fell asleep clutching the phone to your cheek.

After having spread his ashes on the Scottish Highlands, everyone had made the sensible decision of taking time off – a sort of unsanctioned compassionate leave. On the other hand, you stayed buried in the tight office you had in Stirling Lines. You couldn't handle the silence that your empty flat would bring. Granted, that didn’t mean you spent much time talking to passersby here at the headquarters, strangers and colleagues alike.

You hovered around the hallways like a specter – paled and depleted. Utterly unavailable to anyone who decided, for reasons unknown to you, to waste their breath on your person. You’d hear grieving words tossed your way, and you'd nod warmly at those. Polite. Affable. Like you’ve always been, even now that the light had been sapped out of you.

Johnny brought it with him - the light. The sun of the team: beautiful yet deadly. Necessary, but dangerous. Lethal only to those who tried to unravel his equilibrium, warm and inviting to the ones who embraced his person.

Now that he was gone, there was darkness – the world dimmed to pay its respects.

It had been eight months. During those, you had worked tirelessly to concoct a plan to have your revenge. Price sometimes knocked on your door only to find you hunched over blueprints and notes. The look he gave you each time was nothing short of pitiful. He didn’t try to stop you, but you could feel the disappointment seeping through your bones and grating them to dust.

Gaz brought you coffee, sometimes. He often came to your office, knocked softer than Price – a knuckle against wood, compared to all four of them incessantly rapping against the door. Sometimes, it wasn't coffee. Sometimes, despite how bad it might have looked, Gaz spilled a few drops of Rozerem in your chamomile tea, hoping it would force your eyes closed for some rest.

All of them, drove from their respective homes only to come and check on you. You wondered if they had an unofficial shift schedule, shared between them both.

Ghost, though. Ghost stayed. 

Angrier than you. Insatiable. Raging. Went for runs at ungodly hours, when the sun wasn’t even about to peek from the horizon. He monopolized the gym of the headquarters; an easy task for him, all he needed to do was use his thousand-yard stare against the unlucky lad who dared cross the threshold. When he felt like the punching bag had taken enough of his gauzed fists, he would come to your office – sweaty and bruised. He rarely bothered to shower. He’d sit next to you, and he’d help.

Everyday.

Ever the detached bastard he'd always been, he grew closer against his better judgment. Albeit it had been years since you had joined the task force under Price’s will, Ghost had always stood several steps away from you. Yet, lately, he’d woven himself to you like a spider spinning an intricate web. He wrapped you in a cocoon, and differently from the eight-legged creature, Simon didn’t want to drain the nectar of life.

He wanted to be your armor. A panoply of rustproof iron: encasing you in chainmail, helmet, and all.

It’s why, now, as you sat on your own at the briefing room table with the increasing temperature in the room, guilt ate you from the inside. Termites feasting on wood.

The first one to enter was Kyle. Pretty brown eyes looked at you fondly, as if they were taking in a long-lost friend. He sat next to you, exchanged a few tentative words, and smoothed the hair away from your forehead. He didn't care about the grease clinging to them, instead, he grazed short nails against your scalp as he told you about his week.

You were eternally grateful for him and his tactful ability to make you feel normal when life seemed to have turned askew.

Price walked in a few minutes later. Stoic as ever, but with kindness in his blues. He held a tray in his hands, four paper cups of steaming coffee balanced on it. He set it on the table and slumped on the chair in front of you. He asked you how you were doing. You answered that you were fine. You asked it back. He answered the same. No one believed a single word.

Ghost made you all wait. You explained that he was probably at the gym, or having a late-morning run around the training grounds. If they were worried about you, the concern for Ghost was something even greater. While only Price knew of the intricacies of his past, it didn’t take a doctorate in psychology to understand that whatever had forced him to wear the skull mask was something that still haunted him in the present.

────────────

You remembered it vividly, that one evening. Life had battered you both, kindred spirits in what seemed to be the inability to grieve properly.

You, with your head propped on the armrest of the narrow couch in your office. He, slumped on the cushions as he cradled your calves in his lap. A hand absently brushed the thick cotton of your work trousers. His eyes were to the ceiling. His empty stomach growled incessantly, much like yours – both running on fumes, caffeine, and nicotine, or the occasional shared bite stolen from the cafeteria after its closing time.

As your eyelids were about to flutter closed, you heard the rumble of his voice vibrating in his diaphragm, close to where he held your feet.

“Hooked by the ribs,” he said.

The inquisitive look you sent him was missed because he didn't divert his eyes from the ceiling.

“Buried alive,” he strained, “Crawled outta my own grave.”

It hit you later, that he was sharing. You slowly sat up, pushing your torso with your tired arms. You moved gingerly, afraid a mere shift in the air would cause him to sew his mouth shut. While you had an inkling that whatever happened to him must have been gruesome and cruel, those few words (which you were sure, merely scratched the surface) already caused your stomach to churn.

“They used me, tried to break me and they did.”

Your jaw worked. Propped on your elbows, you gulped down the stone in your throat. Eyes glued to the unmasked profile – to the crooked nose, flattened by punches and butts of guns, to the divot between his lips, to the absent brown eyes with their halo of pale lashes. His fingers curled around your ankle and his thumb brushed over your sock.

“Killed my family,” he went on, and you wondered if he was talking to you at all, “Killed my nephew, too.”

Barely noticing how your eyes glazed over with treacherous tears, you bent your knees over his thighs and scooted closer. The only indication that he had acknowledged your presence and wasn’t simply musing out loud was how his palms shifted: from your ankles, up to your calves. He furled his fingers around the meaty part, while his other hand blindly went to look for your neck. He rested his palm against the side of it, let his thumb trace the outline of your jaw.

“Took everything from me, turned me into this,” he muttered, and his brows furrowed while his pupils danced over the chipped paint of the ceiling.

Half of the times you were given the luxury to gaze at the face beneath the mask, you’ve wondered where those scars came from. What kind of heroic deed had he carried out that caused each mark, or what awful act he must have committed that ended up leaving perpetual memories of it, etched in his flesh.

Never, not once, you thought someone else purposefully did it to him. Someone so cruel, so brutal, that made him regrow his skin – like a snake, shedding his frail past to build a thicker armor.

“The army left me to rot, y’know," he whispered, and although you weren't answering (truthfully, you were barely breathing) he knew you were listening.

“But not Price,” his thumb pressed into your cheek, “Not Price, nor Garrick, or you – or Soap.”

It was grimly ironic how such an idiotic callsign could bring this remarkable heaviness on your heart. The silence lingered after he uttered it, either a way to pay respect or a simple inability to continue right afterwards. Because that’s how it felt like.

Months ago, when his body flattened against the concrete of a forgotten underground tunnel, the word Soap met an end. Forever, there will be nothing else to add right after it, if not things you already knew, or heavy silence.

“Can’t lose any more people in this life,” he sighed, “Johnny must be the goddamn last, y’hear?”

You heard.

You craned your neck to the side so your cheek would slot in his palm. Saltwater dampened your skin and moistened his calluses.

“Deal,” you croaked.

He nodded, taking in your word, digesting it. A stupid promise, really. No one can pledge such a thing, but at that moment he cared very little for it. Especially when he felt your lips press against his palm.

“Deal.”

────────────

You bit your thumbnail in silence, then brought it in front of your eyes to look at the red indent around it. A droplet of blood seeped through the crack, and you suckled on it to soothe it.

Ghost abruptly walked in, the door almost flying off its hinges. He closed it behind him but didn’t take a seat. Instead, he rested his back against the shut threshold and folded his arms in front of his chest. A nod of his jaw that shifted the fabric of the balaclava was all he offered.

Now that everyone was in, the moment you had been dreading the most arrived. Albeit you had been planning this for weeks, your stomach still felt like it had swallowed a rock.

You stood up, wonky on your feet. The chair screeched as it slid back.

“I’m retiring.”

If the silence was thick before, now it felt like a boulder.

When volcanos erupt, it’s rare for lava to burst into the air and fall like sizzling rain over the landscape below it. What kills every living creature, it’s the dust that settles afterwards: it's scorching hot, stops life in its tracks.

The moment the words bubbled from your throat like molten lava, the residues puffed out of your crater and deposited on everything surrounding you. The room now felt like a ghost town, with each breathing soul inside turned into a forever statue.

The only thing that moved was Simon, who wrenched the door open and left.

𓇬 𓇬 𓇬 𓇬 𓇬 𓇬 𓇬 𓇬 𓇬

It had been weeks since you last saw him. Well, you did see him: Stirling Lines wasn't that big. But he didn't see you. He didn't knock on your door anymore and barely acknowledged your presence if he found you in his vicinity.

It felt pointless to continue your search for attribution if he wasn’t looking for it with you, so with a quick swipe of your arm, you trashed every blueprint, every post-it note, every map, and leaflet. Maybe that would grant Soap some rest as well.

A signature away from your departure, you were lying in your bed, ready to knock yourself out with a few droplets of benzodiazepine. The route to the comatose dreamless night that awaited you, though, was interrupted by a series of raps against your door.

After years in the military, you had developed quite the remarkable hearing – if one was willing to exclude the tinnitus. It meant you could recognize whose footsteps belonged to whom, whose breathing was coming from whose mouth, and which knock pertained to which hands. You knew these knuckles, indeed. Hastily tossing your legs over the edge of the bed, you padded your socked feet against the linoleum of your private quarters. Fingers shakily curled around the doorknob, and you yanked the door open.

It wasn’t like in movies, when after such a long absence time slows down when your eyes touch, no.

It was raw, irate, and spiteful.

Simon placed a thick hand on your shoulder and shoved you aside to barge in. You barely managed to recollect your balance when he slammed the door closed behind him. He looked around the room as if searching for something but not being quite sure of what. Habit, you thought.

Brown eyes that never showed much of the constant turmoil brewing in his head now landed on you sizzling with hatred.

He yanked the mask off. It fell limply to the ground.

His cheeks were flushed, whether from the warmth that had been building behind the cheap fabric of the mask or from hot anger, you couldn’t tell.

"We had a deal.”

It ripped the air from your lungs, vacuumed them clean, and ironed them flat. Your hand flew at the base of your throat, fingers nervously rubbing against your collarbone.

His voice was clouded by an unbreachable fog of anger. You felt as if you were sailing through the ocean on a moonless night, only darkness ahead of you and a single oar in your hands. That’s how it felt to navigate through Simon Riley, even now that you had managed to have a grasp on the person he was.

Your pupils traveled along his person to settle on his face, not jaded like usual but contorted in a scowl. The strain at the junction of his jaw wasn’t a new sight, nor were the taut tendons of his neck.

Sometimes, he’d fall asleep on the couch in your office; your head on his shoulder or cradled in his lap. You’d wake up then, at the sound of teeth grinding. Bruxism in his sleep, jagged sounds that made your hair stand on end. Gingerly, you used to lift your hands and press the tips of your fingers at his jaw hinge, massaging the spot until he stopped.

You wished you could do it now.

"I’m sorry," you replied calmly, trying to quell his spirits and failing spectacularly.

He took hasty steps around the room, pacing like a lunatic. You didn’t have the guts to walk closer to stop him, not yet. What left his lips next, though, made you want to crumble to the floor like a house of cards.

“Leaving ‘cause I told you all tha’?” he snapped, “’cause you can’t handle another broken case to add to your file?”

Fear of approaching him left your body like steam from a cup, indeed that’s what you did. As he relentlessly paced around the cramped space of a military-issued room, you stopped him with a gentle hand on his bicep.

He froze and yanked his arm away. Your palm like blistering coal against his skin.

You knew he was as hulking as they come, you knew he was built like a goddamned brick house, and you knew he towered over you (he towered over most, in your defense). Yet, nothing could have prepared you for the way he languidly turned to face you, looking down. You craned your neck back, otherwise your eyes would only meet his collarbones, peeking through the loose black tee he was wearing – casual comfort clothes he wore to sleep at night, those few times he did.

"Never think that,” you stated, stressing the adverb, “Never think that.”

You swallowed thickly, yet your eyes never wavered, "I – It’s complicated,” but it truly wasn’t.

Your expression softened, but you knew it would do little to smother the flames in his eyes, ready to flatten the entirety of the room.

"After Johnny, I couldn’t anymore,” you whispered, “I can’t, Simon.”

The defeated tone of yours had the bite of a skillfully honed blade. It cracked his ribcage open and stabbed the heart he didn't think he owned anymore.

He murmured then, eyes narrowed, “The fuck you mean you can’t?”

Your mouth curled down and you rolled your lips between your teeth. The tip of your tongue soothed a crack in the skin.

"I'm scared," you wheezed as if the words were difficult to utter. Scared of loss, scared of death, scared of pain, scared of scars, both physical and mental. Scared of the future, scared of your past and his, scared it would haunt you until you'd turn cold and stiff - all the people you've killed and those who survived. Fear, in its unfettered, most gut-wrenching form.

He tongued his cheek, somewhat irritated by the statement. He let the words stick like molasses to his eardrums, muffling each sound. Simon wasn’t a stranger to fear; he walked with it hand-in-hand, a faithful companion that never left his shadow. Yet, he hated that you were feeling it because in his mind you didn't deserve it.

He would have liked to tell you that, but words always failed him when he needed them the most.

"Thought you’d have grown thick skin by now," his voice was low, controlled, and deadly. Meant to hurt, meant not to graze but to cut. It was all he knew, how to hurt – especially when he was aching as well.

You looked up at him through the furrow of your brows, brief anger flashing in your eyes. You set it aside, instead opting to cast your gaze sideways. You cupped your elbows in a sort of self-reassuring hug, thumbs indenting in the flesh of your biceps.

"I wish I did,” you murmured, “Can’t grow that type of skin, it seems.”

He wanted to rebuild the cocoon he had so carefully crafted around you. He wanted to go back being the shield that kept you from any harm. The chainmail that prevented each stab.

He wanted to be that skin you didn’t seem to grow, like a reptile losing its inborn ability to replenish its flesh.

Johnny’s passing took his cold heart and thrashed it. The bond he deepened with you afterwards made it regrow. He wondered, when he'd look at you during those days, as you leeched your brain dry over blueprints and notes, if you were aware of it.

You scared him most delightfully, and he thought whether his heart should reveal itself to be more than a muscle, or a fist covered in blood.

That's why the resentful look in your eyes felt like fresh water on the fire in his chest. How could he let you drain yourself dry over this, when you had been the only light the moment his world blew out each candle.

So, his anger took the backseat, and he sighed. Drawn-out, long, and tortuous.

“Where you goin’, then?” he said, softer.

You felt it, the sorrow of his tone. It made your head swivel in his direction. You blinked, opened your mouth to answer, and hesitated.

“Bury,” you breathed, “Bury St. Edmunds.”

His eyes narrowed in thought: you could almost see the map of England he had cast in front of him reflected in his pupils.

“’s about a four-hour drive from here," his voice trailed off.

"Yeah," you mused, slightly confused by the abrupt switch in his behavior. But you weren’t one to look a gift horse in the mouth, were you?

Instead, your hands slid up your arms soothingly, "Found a nice flat there, in the city center.”

You shrugged, trying to act as if it wasn’t a big deal, although Simon could tell it was by the way your eyes twinkled at the mention. Something new, something fresh that promised a new beginning, away from bloodshed and loss, closer to warmth and familiarity.

Closer to home.

"It’s nice. It has a small balcony that faces the cathedral,” you went on, sounding almost bashful, “Was thinkin’ about growing my own herbs? Like basil, and such.”

He didn’t reply or move. Barely breathed.

Just stared.

Stared at the soft expression on your face, at the way your lashes framed your eyes. Stared at the way your lip trembled, ever so slightly, as you blabbered about such ordinary things like balconies, and churches and bloody herbs.

He could already picture you with dirt under your bitten fingernails as you dug into brown, ceramic vases, refusing to wear gardening gloves.

He could hear your bare feet padding against the hardwood floor as you went on to brew your tea. Or the squeaking sound of the cushions of a leather couch as you dropped on it, without a care in the world, holding a book by its spine.

You truly disarmed him in that simplicity – a dress he realized he would’ve loved to see you wear more often.

You seemed unaware of the subtle awe that glinted in his pupils, since you went on to add how the flat had a guest room – although it completely flew over his thick head. What did reach his eardrums, though, was what you said next, "And it has two keys."

He snapped out of his reverie and swallowed.

"Two keys," he echoed.

His willpower felt as thin as an ice slab under the blistering sun. It melted pitifully and turned into a warm puddle in his chest. Nothing could’ve stopped him as his feet marched to you, closing both physical and emotional gaps.

He palmed your cheek and whispered with certain hoarseness in his voice, "Two damn keys.”

Your heart swelled three times its size. You swore you felt the indents left against it by each rib. Leaning your cheek against his hand, like you’d done many nights before, the most subtle of smiles graced your features.

Simon vowed he’d fight tooth and nail to see it grow.

You whispered, then, "If you want, you can just drive those four hours 'n pop in. I'll make you a cuppa, maybe take you for a tour around Bury.”

His eyes softened – crinkles at the corners and brows twitching in the middle.

"Four fuckin' hours for a cuppa and a tour,” he mumbled, "What are you, the Queen of England?"

You huffed a chuckle, pretending to find his sarcasm annoying by adding a roll of your eyes. Truthfully, you’d pay good fucking money to hear it daily.

"I'm gonna need the spare key, though" he whispered, his thumb brushed your cheek reverently.

You lifted your hand to trace his often-cracked knuckles with the pads of your fingers, “Not a spare key – your key.”

Simon swallowed thickly again. He ran his tongue over his teeth, clamping his jaw shut. His gaze hardened, his pupils danced about your face, awfully concentrated, as if he were refraining from doing something.

His sudden silence made your resolve waver. You removed your hand from the back of his, curling your fingers as if you were touching some hot surface. It stayed there, furled in a loose fist in the space between your chests.

“You could come and spend your leaves there," you whispered tentatively, "Leave your things at my flat, so each time you come over they're already there."

It took all your courage to speak, but you knew the die had been cast already. The only thing left for you to do was to simply go for it and take the damage, or leave victorious.

"Until it's full of you,” you released a shaky breath, “Until it's your little flat, too."

Simon’s breath suddenly shortened. He'd never felt at home, not even when he was supposed to have one. He'd come close to it when his brother got clean and managed to build a family for himself, or when the task force was tight-knit, with Johnny chatting his ear off with his incomprehensible Scottish lilt. But it was never his.

This, though.

He’d be damned if he let it slip through the cracks of his fingers.

"Until it's our flat," he breathed.

His other hand reached out as well, and he placed it on your opposite cheek, "Until it’s our little flat.”

You’d be lying if you said those weren’t words you had been reciting in your head ever since you put in your retirement request. Ever since you started looking for a flat that could host two people instead of one.

Indeed, you’d naively thought that the moment they would be uttered (if ever) you would have been ready for them. But you weren't, not at all – they felt like a gut punch.

You had to bite your lip to repress tears that had treacherously made their way into your eyes, now glossy and a little wide. To think that you were able, somehow, to give him some reprieve from a life that seemed to not want him, gave you incommensurable joy.

"Our home," you croaked.

"Our home," he echoed languidly, with a thick voice, as if it hurt to speak, "Our bed. And our bloody balcony on the cathedral, and our sofa, our kitchen, and – “

He paused. Swallowed, seemingly torn. Words seemed to fail him again, but he didn’t let them – not this time. He’d fight through the fear of it all being the umpteenth joke life was taunting him with. Not you, never you – his one good hand in a lifetime of poor draws.

"And every – fucking – thing in between."

You chuckled. It’s wet with tears and disbelief.

Oh, to see him thrive in anticipation for something, instead of dreading what life has in store for him.

Your hand left the gentle grip it had on his knuckles, and you cupped his face as well – mimicking how he was holding yours.

"Every," you whispered, "Bloody, fucking thing," and nudged your nose with his, "In between."

Your lips landed on his instantly.

It was stupidly clumsy at first because you were both torn in half between what felt good and what was right. His tongue slipped between your lips as soon as you parted them for air; your teeth clacked together. You chuckled against his lips; he drank it like an oasis. His life parched of what you could give him, what you were giving him.

It took him a moment to get used to the sensation, to adjust to you. But when he finally did, he kissed you back ravenously, nothing shy from desperate. He craved your touch so fiercely. A push and pull of wandering hands, tangled in your hair and yours in his.

You were finally back where he wanted you, in the cocoon he crafted just for you, made with his flesh. He held you to his chest as if his ribcage could open and like bony fingers wrap around you and keep you safe.

He placed his foot between your legs, pushing them open. You complied when he gently nudged your knee so you’d fall back against the mattress.

Eventually, your lips parted, yielding to his, to a shared breath.

You were positively flushed, breathless, and limp in his grasp. He thought he'd never seen anything this breathtaking.

You smiled, all teeth and creases at the corners of your eyes, cheeks tipped pink as they pushed against your eyes – little crescents he’d look at for days on end.

Simon was left a little dumbfounded, though, when you squirmed under his weight to extend an arm. He followed it with his eyes and saw your hand struggling to fumble with the drawer of your nightstand. You pulled out a key and held it in the space between your faces. 

"Your key," you whispered bashfully, as if unaware that the mere sight sent Simon's heart into arrhythmia.

You placed a soft peck to his lips, "To our home."

Simon let out a staggered exhale. He wrapped his fingers around the key, closed his fist around it.

A symbol of a new beginning, one that Simon finally didn’t dread. Something good rippling through his life like fresh water, even amidst the mud of shared grief and loss.

We're good people,

And we both deserve peace.

"To our home," he whispered back, "To our home."

And let breath be air, 

And love the things I know might disappear.

And the last light of the sun

I let it slow me down

I'll crawl where everybody runs.

[daichiduskdrop]

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚⋆·˚ ༘ *𝙎𝙣𝙤𝙬 𝙖𝙣𝙜𝙚𝙡 ⋆·˚ ༘ *ੈ✩‧₊˚

Chapter 15

Pairing: BTS Ot7 X fem! reader

Genre: A/B/O AU, Fluff, Angst, Strangers to lovers,

Warnings: none :)

Words: 3866

Taglist: @thelilbutifulthings @ilovemoneymorethenmen @singukieee @cherrysainttt @felicityroth @mageprincess7 @lucis-noctiana @danielle143 @osakis-gf @girl-nahh @vintageoldfashion @neverthefirstchoice @juju-227592 @silentreadersthings @i-have-no-life-charlie @everyonehatesshani @iamkookiesforyou @dragons-flare @fangirl125reader @roseidol

Previous:

⋆·˚ ༘ *ੈ✩‧₊˚˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚˚ ✩‧₊˚⋆·˚ ༘ *

„This must've been so expensive, though!” you whispered out, shock and disbelief in your words. You could feel your scent start to sour with worry.

At the change, they all jumped into action, the first to react was Jungkook, who gasped loudly before he took your cheeks in his palms.

„Babybun no! It's okay; don't worry about that. It's very important for alphas that you get only the best bunny. Don't you worry about a thing, sweet baby. Do you want to open it now?”

The alpha said, his eyes big with worry. They wanted to spoil you, and they will, but the packmates didn't want you to freak out about any prices either. You didn't have to worry about things like that.

They were very wealthy, so it was only fitting for them to buy you luxury; you didn't deserve anything else. You were their courted omega after all.

Nodding a little bit, you were still very confused. Why were they spending so much money on you?

Whispering out a soft okay, you felt the packalpha pet your head gently, the other alpha helping you pull the plastic seals open.

It was cream-coloured and had a 3D small plaid bump-like pattern, adding to the texture. And the fabric—oh, but the fabric.

You never cared so much about what your clothes were made of, which would bite you back from time to time when you would get skin irritations.

But this was so soft; it was so comforting and gentle on your finger tips; you never felt something like this. You felt your lips strech out into a soft smile, blinking your eyes up at the alpha's watchful gazes.

They knew this was one of the best qualities on the market, but they still felt the need to make sure you actually liked it.

„...It's so soft-!” You gasped, your voice airy and soft. Chuckling softly at you, Jin smiled softly before standing up and going to the kitchen again. Ruffling up your hair on his way. „That's good, then, peaches.”

„Here, bub, we've got you a few more things.” Hoseok smiled widely at you, patting your tight gently and urging you to look back into the giant paper bag on your lap.

Hesitating a little bit, you looked inside again.The packalpha was gently rubbing his chin over the back of your shoulder, helping you pull out the next air-sealed package that had another label on it.

Introducing our exceptional organic cotton sheet set, dyed with the delicate essence of dried poppy petals. Experience the epitome of comfort and sustainability with this luxurious bedding. Crafted from the finest organic cotton, each sheet is meticulously woven to provide a soft and breathable sleep surface. The unique dyeing process with dried poppy petals adds a touch of natural beauty and elegance to your bedroom. Embrace the harmony of nature and indulge in the ultimate sleep experience with our high-quality, eco-friendly organic cotton sheet set.

270x320 top and bottom; 50x80 2x Shams

Machine wash in cold water with mild liquid biodegradable detergent without added bleach or whiteners. Dry on a low setting and remove before completely drying. Line-dry completely, then fold and iron.

Breaking the plastic seals open for you, Hobi helped you pull out the sheet set. It was a very soft grey tone of beige and shone a little bit in the light, reminding you of silk.

Mumbling a soft wow, you turned to Hobi, who smiled at you softly. „We weren't sure about what colour to get you; we will buy new ones when you come with us some time, okay, baby? Don't worry, sunshine.”

„No, no, I love it; thank you so much; seriously, this is too much!" You said, your fingertips going over the fabric. It also felt very soft and didn't carry any smell.

You were used to having sheets from cheap stores, and the biggest difference you noticed (apart from the fabric feeling so much better to touch) was how fully unscented everything was.

It made you feel a lot better since you wouldn't have to sleep in a bed covered with the weird scent of someone you didn't know.

„Good, that's really good, babycheeks.” Taehyung said, watching you fondly. Looking in the bag again, you pulled out a matte black bottle with a cream-white label. Reading over it made you quite excited.

For nights as beautiful as your days, we imagined the Sleep & Glow Sleep Mist! Combining effectiveness and olfactory hedonism, it contains a patented sleep-enhancing accord promoting sleep associated with essential oils with recognized properties such as neroli and petit grain.

Room spray with neroli and petit grain is sleep-promoting, nerve-calming, and relaxing.

INGREDIENTS

Alcohol Denat., Aqua (Water), Parfum (Fragrance), Citral, Eugenol, Geraniol, Limonene, Linalool

100ml

„It's for sleeping princess; it should help you rest better during the nights.” The alpha mumbled, smiling gently at you. After the last night of you waking up so scared, they didn't want you to sleep unwell anymore.

And so, after work, the packmates decided that it would be a great idea to make a stop at one of the luxury Omega-targeted stores, full of nesting materials.

They didn't know what to get you when they arrived. Well, that's not a good way to put it. They knew that they would most likely buy you the whole store—every blanket, pillow, and sheet that seemed comfortable enough for them to want to buy for you.

Since all the items were so carefully sealed, they wouldn't be able to touch them right away and feel the fabric themselves, but the store owners already thought that through beforehand; a small sample of the fabric was stuck right next to the price tags on the shelves.

They wandered around the store for a bit, but soon a store assistant rushed over—a nice-looking beta man that had a name tag written on it, reading Min Chungo.

Quickly, the packmates got into a few sentences with him, telling him about you. Quick to understand, the man also revealed that he has an omega in his pack, going over the best advice for better sleep he has discovered alongside his packmates.

Telling them about the wonders a good sleep mist does, the alphas were quick to put it in their cart, smelling each sample carefully to determine which was the best.

Walking them through the store, the beta helped them choose different nesting materials, explaining every detail of them.

Opening the cloudy grey cap, you smelled the nozzle, and it really did smell well. It felt comforting already—not too overbearing and overwhelming, just enough for you to hardly notice it.

„It smells so well, thank you. You breathed out, nudging it towards Taehyung, who also smelled it. Nodding to himself, he was more than satisfied with his other packmates choices.

Taking out the last thing from their shopping spree, Namjoon ripped off the airseals once again, handing you the package. Reading over the label, it said:

TOTEME

monogram silk pyjama set

Ivory monogram silk pyjama set from TOTEME features a monogram pattern, a camp collar, front button fastening, long sleeves, and a straight hem. This print was created to be entirely unique.

Silk 100%

Dry Clean Only

Unfolding the clothing, the fabric felt so smooth against your fingers. The pattern was quite subtle; the cream-white background had only the thinnest lines over it, completing big, written-out letters.

Not being able to contain your excitement, you hugged Jungkook first, the alpha giggling softly at you, his eyes sharing only joy.

„Thank you, alphas.” You whispered out, bit in daze still. You could hear a few deep rumbles come from the men, satisfied with your words.

Hopping back up, you decided to go shower now, taking the new pyjamas you were given to change into. Taking the stairs two at a time, the packmates watched carefully over you, making sure you wouldn't trip.

And so, while you were showering and finishing up your night routine, they all rested back and watched the TV. The soft background audio was nice to listen to.

With Jin preparing some foods for you in the morning and a dinner too, eventually Jimin and Jungkook both went on to help him. It didn't take long before you came back down, a pair of thin white socks on and the silk pyjamas on. You looked comfortable.

Your hair seemed a bit damp, but your face was bright, and you looked happy. The clothes fit you great; they weren't too sure about what size they should get you while they were in the store, but after having a longer discussion about it, they decided that if it wouldn't fit you well, they would come exchange them first thing in the morning.

„Jin oppa! Look at my new pyjamas!” You said, your voice excited as you rushed to the kitchen, stopping next to the counter.

The pants legs seemed a bit long on you, that was for sure, but you didn't seem to mind. You weren't stepping on them either, only having them cover most of your feet, your thumbs peeking out only a little bit.

Turning to you, he also smiled at you, meeting your excitement. Washing his hands quickly, he came to you, crouching a little before you, looking over the fabrics.

„You look adorable, sweet cub. Is it comfortable?” Jin asked, his eyes watching yours closely. You didn't shy away from his warm gaze, instead only nodding enthusiastically.

Nodding to himself, he stood back up, pulling you close for a hug. Resting your face over his wide shoulder, you breathed in the gentle scent he carried. Patting your lower back, he looked back at you.

„Come taste the beef stew, baby.” He said, nudging you with him towards the other two alphas that were also wearing the grey aprons. Smiling at you, Jimin ran his fingers over your back, softly encouraging you to come closer.

Pulling you behind himself, the alpha opened the oven, letting the hot air out before he stepped closer, being mindful not to burn you or himself. Taking a spoon and scooping up a bit of the sauce and a small piece of the meat, he blew on it for a second.

Turning to you again, you parted your lips a bit, allowing him to pluck the spoon from your mouth. Chewing softly, the meat was already tender, and the sauce was delicious—sour but sweet at the same time; it was very tasty.

Nodding vigorously while still chewing, the alphas softly laughed at your reaction. Putting the spoon away, Jimin pulled you to his front quickly.

Swaying you from side to side gently, the alpha rubbed his cheek over your hair softly, proud of his packmates and himself that they prepared food that you liked once again.

„Go wait with the other alphas for a minute, princess; we will come get you soon. It won't take long before we eat, hm?” Patting your lower back, you were ushered to the couch again, where even Yoongi sat now.

Cooing at you when you came closer, you took a seat between Taehyung and Hoseok, resting your back against the soft pillows. „The colour looks so nice on you, babycheeks!” He gasped, nudging your soft skin on your face.

Smiling up at him, you thanked him softly before you relaxed and started paying attention to the TV once again.

„....ention to the economy, South Korea's export sector is experiencing a significant boost. The nation's renowned automobile industry has reported a surge in overseas demand for its eco-friendly electric vehicles. With a strong focus on sustainability and innovation, South Korean automakers are gaining recognition for their environmentally conscious designs and impressive performance. This surge in exports not only contributes to the country's economic growth but also reinforces its commitment to a greener future.

Turning to the world of sports, South Korea's national football team is gearing up for an exciting international tournament. The team, known for its skillful players and tactical prowess, is set to compete against some of the world's top football powerhouses. With the nation's unwavering support behind them, the team aims to showcase their talent and make their mark on the global stage. Football enthusiasts across the country eagerly await the...”

Calling you all for dinner, the packmates slowly stood up, finishing up their cans of beer. Yoongi soon followed after the others.

Pulling out a chair for you, you sat down, the youngest alpha placing a wooden bowl, a pair of chopsticks, and a spoon before you once more. Crouching beside you, he looked up at your face.

„What would you like to drink, my sweetest bunny?” He asked, caressing your cheek gently with his knuckles. Thinking over it, you weren't feeling like drinking much sugar anymore tonight.

„Can I maybe... have sparkling water?” You asked, looking at your lap in shyness. Pursing his lips a bit, the alpha furrowed his brows.

„I'm sorry, pup, but the bubbles could upset your tummy, especially before sleep... What about normal water instead sweet cub? I'm sorry, sweetheart.” The pack alpha stepped in, knowing that saying no to you was exceptionally hard for the youngest.

Sighing out a bit in disappointment, you nodded gently, going along with it. You trusted them well already, and if they said that you might get sick, it was true.

„Thank you, babybun.” Jungkook mumbled out, placing a tall glass of cold water before you. Carrying a big pot and a few smaller bowls, all the alphas worked to set the table.

Putting rice with a bit of spring onion in your bowl first, the packalpha then poured over the steaming stew, with a few smaller pieces of beef placed on top. Sprinkling over sesame seeds and spring onion, you thanked him for plating a dish for you so nicely.

It was a very important tradition for the packalphas to prepare the meals for their pack, and since Namjoon wasn't the most skilled regarding cooking, he at least plated the food whenever he was around.

You really liked this dish. It wasn't spicy at all, but it felt very warm and made you feel at home.

Putting his chopsticks down for a second, the pack alpha sat up a little, watching over his packmates. With his eyes staying on you, he went on to talk.

„Sweet pup, me, and the others stayed behind today to talk with our pack affairs managers.” He didn't say much more until a few seconds later, when your face suddenly became very present and your utensils were also down.

At that point, most of the alphas also stopped eating, wanting to be able to talk if needed.

„We had talked with them about you staying in our packhouse now, we got a green on that one. However, it's important for us that you know that if you were our own omega after all, you might have to travel a lot with us, sweetheart.”

All of them closely watched your reaction as you listened to him speak. After a few seconds when you didn't say anything, you finally spoke, your voice soft and gentle.

„I don't mind travelling much, just... I'm not sure about school and such." You were only in the middle of your studies, still only in your second year. Understanding quickly, Namjoon was already a step ahead.

„I know about that, and I have already contacted your college teachers with the management.

We came to the conclusion that after this semester, it shouldn't be a big problem for you to transfer to online classes from time to time. We would still have to talk the details out, but they were very understanding since it's regarding a pack.”

Nodding slightly, you thought over the option for a second or two. You weren't sure what online classes would be like in art school.

During the worst of COVID, your whole year of school was prolonged and stepped off, so your year started their studies later than was planned in exchange for not having any online classes.

„I guess it should be okay...” You whispered out.

„I know that it's very sudden, pup, but trust me, it would be different if it were possible. We are having a bit of a break right now from any concerts, so we wouldn't have to travel that soon, but I think it would be better to start adjusting to the planes and such; there are a lot of long plane rides from time to time."

The pack alpha realised how problematic those could truly be. The pressure changes, the loud screams of their fans and the paparazzi...

You might have a few issues at first. They would need to soften the blow as much as possible before they would truly start travelling a lot again.

„We just thought it would be better for you, princess, to start coming on the sets more often and get to know some of our staff, managers, and security so you would know who is safe...” Jimin softly said, his voice caring and sweet.

They knew that the adjustment could be harsh, and with how unusual it was for omegas to constantly change locations, often getting unsettled after such stress, they just wanted to help as much as possible.

„Yea, I understand.” You murmured. Hearing them sigh out softly at that, you felt the alpha that sat next to you caress your hair again.

„Thank you so much, kitty.” Yoongi whispered, already picking up a small piece of meat with his own chopsticks and nudging it in your direction.

And so, the dinner continued on. After you finished your meal, you helped pick up the dishes too, this time being faster than any of the men trying to pull you back.

Placing them on the counter, you noticed the eldest alpha already standing with the sleep spray and your new bedding in his arms, looking over you with soft eyes.

Following him closely, a few of the other alphas also started to come up themselves. Turning on the lights in your room, Jin placed all the items on the bed.

„I'll change the sheets for you, soft peaches.” He said it gently, having you nod at him and thank him softly.

Going to brush your teeth in the washroom, you also went to comb your hair, but before you even had the time to do so, Taehyung had already waltzed in, taking the brush from you before he started doing so himself.

Smiling at you through the mirror, he ran his long fingers through your soft locks, mindful not to tangle them up for you anymore. „There, babycheeks. Come on, it's time for sleep now.”

He murmured, taking your palm in his, leading you back through the doors to the bedroom. Jin has already finished setting everything up, and so after he noticed you coming back, he uncovered the duvet for you, letting you slip in before he placed it over you again.

Taking the brown jumper into your arms again, you breathed in the soft scent it carried now. Brushing your hair through, the oldest gently watched over you, his gaze soft and fond.

„There you go, sweet cub. Rest well tonight; alphas are always close if you need anything, peaches. I'll be downstairs for a bit longer; just come there if you need anything, my baby.” He mumbled, hand caressing your temples softly.

Nodding a little, the man smiled at you, tucking the blanket close to you before he stood up and went to get the others so they could also tell their sweet good nights.

Taehyung took a seat next to you on the bed, and he too gently went over your hair, smiling softly at you.

„My sweet babycheeks. Sleep well tonight, alright? If you need anything, we are only a call away.” He mumbled gently, his palms rubbing over your covered shoulder.

Murmuring a soft yes, you folded the hoodie closer to yourself, only your nose and eyes peeking out. With your room's doors opening once again, the others started to walk in one by one.

The first to crouch next to you once again was Hobi, smiling widely at how you hold the hoodie close to yourself. He felt very proud of himself for helping you settle down so well with his own clothing.

„Soft sunshine, is it warm enough? The bedsheets aren't scratchy at all, right? ...good. Make sure you sleep well tonight, bub; we care for you lots and lots. You wouldn't want to upset your alphas, hm?”

Tightening your grip on the fabric, you shook your head a bit. Smiling softly at you, the man watched you closely before he also stood up, patting your hair a little. Walking over to the windows, he made sure all the curtains were tightly shut.

Walking over, the youngest alpha giggled a little at how cuddled up you looked—with the heavy duvet and the throw blanket over yourself, you seemed to be warm tonight. Rubbing his knuckles over your cheek, his fingers gently caressed your face.

„Sleep tight, babybun. If you have any bad dreams, come to alpha right away, okay, sweet baby?” Agreeing silently once again, you let him hold your palm for a few seconds, his thumb going gently over your knuckles.

Allowing the other man to step in, Jungkook moved, letting Jimin take a seat on the bed himself. Placing a glass of water on the bedside table, he couldn't hold a soft coo in, noticing just how settled and tired you seemed already.

„Aigoo... Princess, sweet baby. Rest your eyes now, hm? You're safe here, sweet cub. We got you.” Rubbing his hands on your back, he let his two older packmates have their goodnights soon, going over to Jungkook, who was looking over the heater now.

Crouching on the ground, Yoongi let his palms cover your cheeks fully, his thumbs rubbing the soft skin you had under your eyes. Smiling gently at you, his gummy smile peeked out, making you also smile a bit.

„Kitty, you just sleep for now, okay? Alpha's will take care of everything; you don't have to worry about a thing, baby.” Bending over your form slightly, the alpha rubbed his chin over the crook of your neck, letting his scent cover it.

You should be able to sleep a bit better with their scents around you. Remembering the sleep mist his packmates bought for you, he took the bottle from the small table next to the bed, opening up the cap before he stepped back.

Spraying out only a soft hint of mist, it soon went around the whole room. After checking that everything was turned off and no one was in the bathroom or the walk-in closet, he felt his worried alpha needs settle down.

„Baby pup, aren't you just the softest little thing, sweet baby? Close your eyes for now; let the alphas take care of everything, cub. Alphas got you; don't you worry about a thing now.”

Namjoon softly voiced it, his fingers combing through your hair. With that, you felt sleep come over you fully.

⋆·˚ ༘ *ੈ✩‧₊˚˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚˚ ✩‧₊˚⋆·˚ ༘ *

Next:

[dream-wave-creator]

"All the world’s a stage, and all the men and women merely players: They have their exits and their entrances; And one man in his time plays many parts." William Shakespeare

[amittribekids]

Bohemian-inspired and enhanced with romantic lace and pintucks. This top is our girl's go-to; from a playdate to a birthday brunch, it will always bring joy!

[ratwithhands]

Decided to polish some jacket designs!

Emmet originally received a strait from the League after they thought he posed a safety risk to others and mandated him to wear it. Big surprise, they literally just went to a Unovan hospital and asked if they had any of the old jackets lying around. It's ill-fitting and unpleasant, not to mention the hasty edits they made to his uniform to act as a secondary restraint looks awful. As much as he is still operating as usual, having to walk around in the strait is humiliating and dehumanizing, especially because of the stares from other people.

Of course this crime against dignity and fashion had to be corrected, so Elesa called her designers and offered to make the League Council a more appropriate uniform for him. The only rule given was that it must still restrain as well as the original straitjacket, so Elesa ended up modelling the jacket after a vest and the secondary restraint after a double-breasted greatcoat. It's meant to look like clothing, more like everyday wear than something out of an asylum. It also uses hand covers (i.e. socks) instead of a grossly oversized sleeve to keep the hands restrained.

It resolves a lot of the issues Emmet had with the original, namely that it blends in with the crowd rather than making him stick out. It also has an air of professionalism and formality that the original didn't have. He's much more willing to wear it and keep it on, as well as being more comfortable in it.

I'm struggling to describe this in sentences so as for the differences:

League Straitjacket:

actual retired straitjacket from hospital storage

made of old canvas and leather

uses oversized belted sleeves to restrain arms

uses belts and buckles to restrain upper arms and tighten back

can't fit anything thicker than a tank top underneath

Elesa's Modified Straitvest:

bespoke articles custom tailored to Emmet's measurements

made from stiff cotton and fabric straps

uses belted cuffs and hand covers to restrain arms

uses straps and locking slide buckles to restrain upper arms and tighten back

able to fit a collared shirt underneath

Elesa's outfit also has the added bonus of being more breathable, soft, and being able to function as regular clothes.

Anyways bonus sketch comic:

Dignity restored.

[multiwreckedmess]

Kinktober Day 1

Prompt: Costume Pairing: San x fem!reader WC: 1,900 Summary: When you and your boyfriend have a minor disagreement on what to do for your halloween costumes, you hatch a plan to have him see your side.

This is a work of fiction, it does not represent San or any Ateez member. On top of this it is an 18+ work. For my comfort and boundaries please if you are under age do not interact with this. 

TW/CW under the cut

TW/CW: Sort of petplay, reader called “kitty”, “kitten” as well as “babe” and “sweetie”, oral (m. receiving), unprotected intercourse, finishing inside, tail plug mentioned. I think that’s about it.

Staring into the monochrome abyss of San’s closet you huff. “Babe? What are we wearing for Hongjoong’s Halloween party?”  He doesn’t turn from his game, frantic clicks of the mouse filing the space where his reply should be.  “Babe?” You ask again, foolishly hopeful.  More clicking, punctuated by a flood of curses under his breath.  You purse your lips and turn to him, the silhouette of his chair blocking him. “San?”  His fist slams into the table, “SHIT! Sorry. Dead. I got 1 minute. What? Sorry.”  “Costume. Halloween party?”  “I was thinking we’d buy a couples-”  “BUY?” Your eyes bug incredulously. The thought opens wide a can of childhood trauma. Years of your parents insisting that you create your costumes with clothes either from the second hand store or existing closet pieces with minimal single use articles. While others got to dress as Jesse from Toy Story or Cinderella, you had to figure out your best approximation of what a witch would look like in modern dress.  San’s brows furrow in confusion. “What? Yes? How else do you get a costume?”  “Where is your spirit of creation?! I might as well dress up like a cat if you’re just going to buy some shitty costume.”  San rolls his eyes, exasperated. “You can’t make a cat into a couples costume.”  “You go ahead and buy the costumes. I’ll put together mine and show you how much better it is.”

 It’s manipulative, you know it is, as you examine yourself in the mirror. You’d probably never wear this ensemble out, but it was about the message. Fuzzy ears clipped to the top of your head matched beautifully with the tail plug tickling the back of your thighs from under your skirt. It was almost unfair, almost.

 Leaning against the doorframe you watch him click away, unaware of the treat sitting mere meters away from him. You knock and wait patiently with a small smirk tugging at your lips.  “He-holy shit,” San turns and stops in his tracks, eyes racking over your body. Whatever he was doing or going to do long forgotten he launches himself from the computer chair. He whole body throbs for a second as his arms tighten around you and lift, moving you with ease. For a second he considers tossing you fully onto the mattress but decides better, it would be a waste instead placing you in the center of the bedroom. “Such a pretty kitty,” San purrs, pushing your hair behind your ear. Nails scratching lightly at your scalp, his eyes shine as as shiver runs down your body.  “So you like it?” You tug slightly at the half gloves covering your wrist, smoothing them taut to you. Small rubber paw prints adorn the palms, soft and squishy and pink. Your stockings have them too, just at the ball of the foot, with matching pretty pink bows at the tops of the thighs. You twirl, tripping lightly as the rubber paws grip the ground more than you’re prepared for. San’s arms wrap around you again and secure you as his chest blocking your tumble.  “Maybe a little dangerous to wear out,” he muses, hand trailing your spine.  “We’ll have to take care of that, won’t we kitty?” His mind feels hazy as the blood flow redirects southwards. He shouldn’t be as attracted to this outfit as he is. You just look so cute, so so SO cute it makes his head swim.

 It’s impossible to hide the pulse of interest in his sweatpants, comfy and breathable grey cotton leaving nothing to the imagination. “Take care of what?” You bat your eyelashes dumbly, prolonging the game. Your hands skim down to the waistband of his pants, feeling the flex of his lower abs as his breath catches. His own hand pushes up the back of your skirt, tugging lightly at the tail, stirring the plug within you just enough to make you whine.  “Don’t worry kitty, just follow me,” he smiles, palm cupping your ass. “get on your knees for me, won’t you?”  You’ve never dropped to your knees faster, looking up at his toned body with wide eyes. He barely moves his head to look down at you, only his eyes following. Your mouth waters, staring at the tented outline pressing insistently to the fabric.  “Be a good kitty and open your mouth for me,” his thumb strokes your cheek, your jaw softening and falling open in his hand. One handed, he pushes the top of his pants down, thick cock springing from the confines. Heavy and musky he taps the head on your outstretched  tongue, sucking in air through his teeth. It the eager twinkle in your eye as you patiently wait for his next instruction that stokes the fire in his gut. “That’s it, now just the tip sweetie, just a little lick for me,” he coaxes.

 Tongue flicking gently against the underside you listen for his breathy moan, mischievous smile tugging at the corners of your mouth. You barrage him with sweet kitten licks all over the head of his dick. As much as he can control his body he couldn’t control his expression, fighting to keep his eyes open his eyelids flutter. “Li’e tha’?” You ask, words slurred with your tongue lolling out.  “Just like that,” he sighs, “just keep your mouth open babe, let me do the work.” Letting the weight of his member rest heavily on your tongue you hold your head still, eyes fixed upwards, gazing at his face. Gathering your hair into a loose fist at the base of your scalp, his hips press forward into your inviting heat. It’s barely halfway down before he feels the resistant tight ring of your throat against him. Hazily he shallowly thrusts against it, the sound of your soft gags awakening something primal in him. Tears welling in your eyes you work hard to breath through your nose as he loses himself briefly to the rhythm. “Doin’ so well-,” he gasps, “a lil’ more. Such a good obedient kitty. A lil’ more for me.”

 Your core throbs impatiently, gut twisting and tightening. His choked back moans and lack of oxygen have you lightheaded, your own hand wandering between your thighs to provide some relief to your unattended sex. Subtle twitches of his thighs and cock tell you he’s close, an unrepressed moan burbling up from your lungs has him retreating quickly, strands of spit and salty precum bridging the gap in your bodies.  “Don’ wan’ cum?” You gulp and gasp, wiping your lips on the back of the arm warmers.  San shakes his head, eyes unfocused and breathing heavily.  You don’t have time to question why before he is pulling you up by your forearms and tossing you face down into the unmade sheets of the bed like you were little more than a misplaced pillow. He’s on you nearly as fast, hand running up the back of your thighs to your slit.  “Practically dripping,” he growls and giggles all at once, giddy. You push back on his hand with a moan.  “All for you,” your voice is horse and ragged.  “Good kitty.”

 The blunt pressure of his cock breaching your entrance forces a harsh exhale from you. Your skirt is bunched and balled into his fists at your waist, little more than makeshift handles for him to use as he pushes his way into your tight heat. The slickness of your arousal eases the push as his hips roll against you, deeper and deeper with each stroke until he’s fully seated in your cunt. Elated, you wiggle back at him, shaking the tail still snuggly held in by the plug.  San marvels at how your walls stretch and hug to accommodate his thickness. The audio visual experience of your small moans and tight hole eagerly sucking him back dulls his wits. For a moment he drops the skirt to palm your ass, spreading you so he can better watch himself disappear as he shallowly fucks into you, absentmindedly stroking the fur of the tail draped down your back. It’s just enough to jostle the plug, tight ring of muscle flexing to hold it in.  Your chest tightens and vision blurs, elbows faltering and falling cheek first into the mattress. “It feels good,” you try to say, only bubbles of spit and moans managing to make their way out of your mouth.  “You’re so fucked,” San laughs as his hips snap into you faster. “You’re so hot.”  “Fuuuuck,” you groan in agreement. “I’m fuuuuucked.” The words bounce with the shaking of your body, uncontrolled and automatic. San fists your strip of a skirt, using it as leverage to fuck into you harder and faster. You can hardly breathe as your orgasm rolls over you, one after another, walls clenching and spasming around his cock. Fingers claw at the bed, twitching as you pant and groan and swear underneath him.  He drops his hold on your skirt, unceremoniously allowing you to crumple to the bed as he pulls from you.  “Nooo,” you whine pitifully at the loss of sensation. Exhaustion plagues your muscles but your gut needs more, craves more. You ragdoll as he pushes you to your back, clambering between your thighs again. It’s rougher than he’s every been with you. You stomach flutters and flips and he practically folds you in half, pressing your knees up to your armpits and sliding back into you.  “Don’t worry kitty, you’ll get your treat,” he murmurs in your ear, breath tickling your jaw.  This angle is a different kind of intense, his body weight heavy on your lungs, restricting your airflow just enough to have you buzzing. His biceps flex as he holds himself and your legs up as best he can, your stockinged feet waving loosely in the air with each thrust. You hold onto him, clinging to his back with all your might. Your ears ring and rush as you lose yourself in his motions.  “Cum, please, cum,” you chant into his shoulder. “Fuck your cum into your cute kitten.” Spit and sweat commingling on your lips. You curl up, forehead pressed to the junction as you climax, vision darkening and eyelids fluttering.  You’d scream but your lungs are empty and diaphragm clenched. Everything burns from the inside out. Gasping, you bite down on his trapezius, his strangled groan of pleasure and surprise breaking through your haze as his hips stutter and slam as deep as he can go into you. The warmth of his release coats your walls as they work him.

 San whimpers and then giggles quietly.  “Sorrysorrysorrysorry,” you spew in a whispered prayer.  “Don’t apologize to me,” he kisses your cheek. “Intense right?”  You don’t answer, eyes closed in bliss. All is quiet except for your breaths and the occasional light smack of lips to skin as you pepper eachother with pecks. You let him lower your legs to the bed, release slightly seeping out around his cock as he moves you. “You like the costume?” You trade an obvious question with a second obvious question.  “Skirts ruined, sorry,” he giggles again. “Pussy ruined.””

 You glare at him. He shifts slightly, balancing himself on one arm as he grabs an errant ear from between the pillows. “See? Pussy ruined. Besides, not a couples costume so-” it was such a San answer, letting you win the battle but not the war.

I’m really not promising much if anything but I wanna write more frequently sooo here you go. As usual, please let me know if I am missing tags or if you’d like me to add any TW/CW that are sensitive for you to any upcoming fics!

Also i noticed the formatting is a little fucked on mobile i’m so sorry i think it’s that i copy paste in from another doc but like...it’s hard to tell. It’s the first paragraph. Sorry!!

[blazingstar29]

What's your thoughts on mav wearing ice's clothes and being swamped, like sweater paws and everything 🥹🥹

first of all, YES. second of all:

They both choose to spend their money on different things, that's how it starts. For Maverick it's an obvious choice, his bike. Everything goes into the Kawasaki and what's left goes into less exciting things like rent and groceries. Ice on the other hand pools his money into clothing. Only a few pieces at a time, nothing crazy, but he's a firm believer in comfort and longevity. Which also means he's never out of fashion, though he does play into trends he think will last. (slider calls ice a sloane ranger and he didn't talk to him for a week)

He buys the softest wool jumpers and light, breathable cotton t shirts. It's a luxury he can justify. It's also a luxury Maverick's never bought into (white shirts and blue jeans all year round baby). When they move in together, it doesn't take him long to discover these items of clothing.

It's love at first sight.

Maverick starts to come home and shed his uniform before donning Ice's soft clothes. Some of them are already oversize on Ice which means most of them hang past Maverick's hips. He can't help it though. As much as he loves the uniform, when he's tired and a little bit over stimulated, all he wants is familiar, gentle fabrics.

The first time Ice sees him wearing on of his shirts, Maverick is standing in the kitchen. The collar slips down on one shoulder, exposing the freckled skin. Ice fucks him in it before the week is out.

When the winter months draw in, Maverick continues to steal the clothes. The jumpers are harder, because if he wants to get stuff done the sleeves are just too long and piss him off. But when he's not doing anything? He secretly enjoys the way it the jumpers loose and baggy. It makes him feel safe. Once or twice he uses his sweater paws to slap Ice on the ass.

But some quick notes

Maverick thinks that Ice's woolen sailing jumpers are way to scratchy and thinks its the reason rich people are so grumpy

"imagine wearing that all the time. you've got your awesome boat and you're wearing an itchy jumper. i'd be grumpy too"

ice wears mav's shirts for funsies but they're tight enough to give him a public indecency charge

Mav loves steaing ice's shirts and jumpers and any tops really, but he hates the feeling of trousers being too big, so ice gets to keep those

eventually ice offers to show mav where he buys his clothes so he can have some of his own but mav said he'd still love them just as much if they were college handouts

after this, ice goes to the thrift store and buy some random shirts and wears them for a while. that way mav can have some of ice's shirts to do odd job and work on his bike

[greenandhazy]

I just queued up a post about sustainable fabrics and started to write something in the tags before realizing that it was drifting away from the point

but PSA: with the caveat that the most sustainable item of clothing is the one that's already in your closet, I would suggest that if you are someone who struggles with temperature regulation, you should seriously consider adding more linen and wool to your wardrobe. determining the "true" environmental impact of various fibers is v complicated, but for a start they both use significantly less water than conventional cotton, and imo the improvement they've had on my quality of life is well worth the substitution.

linen and wool are by far the best fabrics for temperature regulation--the former is lighter and more breathable than cotton and will keep you cooler in the summer, the latter is breathable but heavier and more insulating and will keep you warmer in the winter, even if it gets wet. (there's actually a saying among people who hike/do winter sports that "cotton kills" because you are more prone to hypothermia in cotton undergarments than in wool.) do not even get me started on linen/wool vs polyester.

this is something that I think is especially important given higher cost of heating lately, higher temperatures due to climate change, and the number of people who have health conditions or medications that make them sensitive to heat. this isn't to say that your clothing/bedding choices will compensate for a livable environment, but as someone who used to wake up 2-3 times a week sweating in synthetic sheets for four months of the year, and shiver in an inadequately heated room for another three, these little swaps can seriously make extreme temperatures a little more bearable.

that being said, wool and linen do tend to be more expensive, so if you're looking to get the most bang for your buck, I would recommend starting with:

linen sheets, even just a fitted sheet (some companies do sell them solo). overheating while sleeping is literally the worst.

linen pants, especially if you work in a job that doesn't allow you to wear shorts. linen shirts are also nice, but even cotton/poly shirts tend to be thinner than pants and might already be short-sleeved/you can roll up the sleeves, so the impact of pants will be more immediate.

a chunky wool sweater. avoid cashmere, and merino unless it has cables--these are very soft, lovely wools, but they're generally pretty light and made more for their softness than their insulation properties. for maximum warmth, you don't want a thin "office sweater," you want a "my Irish gran knit this in her cottage on the windy coast" sweater.

wool socks. these are more likely to keep you dry and warm if you're walking through slush or rain, in addition to just general walking-around-the-house warmth. for these I would say the type of wool matters a little less, generally because you do want socks that are somewhat lightweight so you can wear them in shoes. and just FYI you're also more likely to see wool socks blended with silk, nylon, or spandex for strength and elasticity, so don't drive yourself up the wall trying to find the mythical 100% wool sock. even hobby knitters tend to blend wool with something because of the amount of friction that wears on socks.

again! the most sustainable type of clothing is what you already own. but some of these are the kinds of small swaps you can definitely make over time, and you might find them genuinely helpful.

[hmshermitcraft]

Tw // sh (picking and stuff)

The reason Etho covers 90% of himself is not a confidence thing, oh no! It is a "I will pick and pick and pick until I have no skin left" thing. Etho's plenty confident! He looks great and he knows it!! Etho is also plenty self aware and he knows that he literally cannot help himself.

It's not even a conscious thing, he does it without thinking and only realizes when he draws blood and nobody wants that!!

Before he had a simple medical mask and cotton gloves with lil grippies on em and he'd wear long sleeves and generally be ok. When he met the hermits he was me with the expected level of "what's up with the gloves and the mask there mon frére?" And they were very nice about it!

Cleo, resident seamstress, made him a whole bunch of new masks, some plain, some with funny faces on them, some with cute patterns, the works! And they're soft and much more breathable than anything he has previously!

Bdubs got him better gloves for working and handling redstone and terrain, and big warm ones for winter. He even got some actual mining gloves too, which cut down on blisters which cut down on picking (sneaky win).

Grian got him thin covers for his arms during the summer, Beef keeps buying him new compression socks, Joel got him lots of chapstick with lots of fun flavors for when he wants to try going maskless.

And at the end of every month, Joe repaints his nails, long and sharp and dangerous things that Etho fights to keep.

-s (who is having a Very Rough Time. i wanna keep my nails dammit!!!)

It's a fun compromise for something Etho used to be ashamed of. Before it did feel a bit like he was hiding and he didn't want to. It sucked being so covered up all the time, but picking the fluff from his shirt was better than tearing off another scab before it healed.

Now, though, he feels like this is part of his fashion. He can accessorise, he can mix and match. It's not a necessity but something he can have fun with and use as another means to express himself.

It makes it more special that so many of the items are gifts from the hermits. It just shows they accept him and his weird quirks. He fits perfectly with the rest of them.

[thedottydiapercompany]

New Super Dotty The Pony Body suit

With new sizing, It is stretchy, soft, breathable, and with vibrant colours and design.

It has 4 sturdy metal snaps at the crotch and is made from 95% cotton, 5% Spandex.

Shipping quickly discreetly and cheaply worldwide from:

Www.dottydiaper.co.uk