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rainydayathogwarts · 13 days ago

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ripped tights in tight cupboards - sirius black

summary: sirius can't resist the sight of you in tights... what a shame he has to ruin them for you. wc: 1.7k+ cw: semi-public sex, oral (f!receiving)

Sirius had not stopped looking at you for the past twenty minutes. You’d been standing in the courtyard with the rest of your friend group, tugging your jumper tighter around your body to try warming you up, Hogwarts’s unrelenting autumn weather slapping you from every direction. You stood next to Lily, arm linked with hers as everyone leaned in close to you, listening to all the questions and answers you revealed would be on Professor McGonagall’s end of unit assessment.

James groaned in the middle of your rant, ruffling through his rucksack to pull out a notebook and pencil, jotting notes down as he repeated the question topics you had divulged.

However, of the entire group, the one person you wanted to do best on the test was not listening to a single word you were saying. Sirius’s gaze was relentless, staring at you with lustful eyes as the words you spoke flew over his head. His eyes dropped to your exposed legs, tongue shooting out to wet his lips as he smirked at the small rip in your warm tights.

“And, uh, there was an eight marker asking to outline and evaluate animal transfiguring spells. So I spoke about the one we did with mice, but then the underwater ones like full animal transfiguration or half, so the one to transfigure people into merpeople.”

Sirius chuckled, causing Remus to glance at him, but everyone else was too busy talking about how screwed they were for the exam. “Wait, we’re supposed to talk about the differences between half and full transfigurations?” Cried James, his eyes widening. Lily immediately jumped to explain the difference to her boyfriend, clarifying how to use it in an essay structure.

“Okay is that good?” But before you were able to get a response from your friends, Sirius broke into the middle of the group’s little huddle, crossing the circle to wrap an arm over your shoulders, the other hand reaching up to caress your arm closest to him.

“Good luck!” Sirius called out, dragging you alongside him. Marlene yelled a question to you, but Sirius pressed a kiss to your forehead, and her words were instantly melting away into the background.

The second you entered the castle, much warmer than the freezing outdoors, Sirius’s pace was increasing. His arm fell from around your shoulders, sliding down to intertwine your fingers with his as he rushed down the halls, using his steady grip to drag you alongside him easier.

Gasping, you wrapped your free hand around your boyfriend’s bicep as he made a triumphant noise, ramming his shoulder into the door of a broom cupboard. He yanked you into the small storage room with him and you gasped loudly, squealing as Sirius slammed his lips against yours, his hands immediately wandering under your skirt.

“Sirius!” You gasped against his lips as he momentarily pulled away, his fingers fighting against your tights. “Fuck, you look so hot.” Sirius groaned, digging his face into the crook of your neck. “Love these tights on you. Too bad I’m gonna have to-” You cried out, tightening your grip on Sirius’s shoulders as his unforgiving fingers dug into the crotch area of your tights, his nails digging into the stretchy fabric.

The fabric tore with a loud ripping sound, echoing in the enclosed space.

“Sirius!”

“I’ll buy you new ones, I swear!” He murmured in between kisses, sucking softly on your skin as his fingers slid into the new hole in your tights. His fingers curled into the bottom of your underwear, pushing the fabric to the side as his fingers explored your cunt.

You were immediately gasping quietly at Sirius’s touch, however messy or careless it may be. “There we go.” He spoke, more so to himself as his fingers connected with your clit. You bit your lip as a moan immediately surfaced, your boyfriend’s expert fingers immediately working miracles on you.

“What’s gotten into you?” You asked teasingly, eyes widening as Sirius dropped to his knees in front of you. Your boyfriend looked up at you through his lashes, a wide grin on his face.

“Just can’t resist you.” You smiled at his words, snaking your fingers through his hair.

Sirius’s grin disappeared under your skirt, and you let him guide one of your legs up onto his shoulder, lips leaving a trail of kisses from your knee to your inner thigh.

Another rip sounded through the cupboard and you shrieked, scolding your boyfriend again. Sirius fit his fingers into the now much larger rip in your tights, holding your panties to the side so he could press his mouth to your cunt. Parting your lips with his fingers, Sirius wrapped his lips around your clit and started sucking softly. Laughing softly at the immediate reaction you had, Sirius brought his fingers down to your entrance, pushing softly into you.

Leaning your head back against the wall, lips parted in a moan, you suddenly whimpered as Sirius’s lips left your body. Reaching in his pocket for his wand, Sirius muttered “Colloportus, muffliato” Before returning his attention to you.

Wand clattering to the floor, Sirius brought his now free hand up to your thigh, caressing your skin softly. “Relax for me, baby, yeah? Take a deep breath.” Following his instructions, you inhaled deeply before released air through your mouth. Sirius praised you, sliding his fingers deeper inside you.

Lips returning to your cunt, he flattened his tongue against your clit, adding pressure to your sensitive bundle of nerves. Sirius began thrusting his fingers into you quickly, sucking on your clit harshly and you thrusted your hips into Sirius’s face, pulling a moan out of him.

Whining, Sirius’s free hand clutched your ass, driving your body further onto his face. You tugged at Sirius’s hair, moving your hips with the movement of his face as he curled his fingers deeper into you.

Pulling your skirt up to look at Sirius, you gasped loudly, staring at the filthy sight underneath you. Sirius glanced up, and your jaw went slack, whimpering quietly. The rip in your tights dragged on all the way down your thigh, and your juices shined on your inner thighs, coating Sirius’s face. His fingers looked uncomfortably squished into your tights, but with the expertise he moved them inside you, you knew he couldn’t be too uncomfortable.

Keening loudly, you bit your bottom lip, banging your head on the wall behind you as you threw your head back in pleasure. “Oh my god!” You cried, feeling your thighs begin to shake as Sirius’s tongue flicked your clit.

Sirius hummed against you, mumbling “You close?” But he already knew the answer. As though he’s been playing with you this entire time, he curled his fingers just right, which immediately had you moaning out his name as you reached your orgasm, grinding your hips down on his face as your entire body shook in an onslaught of white-hot pleasure. Sirius moaned into your cunt as your juices flooded his face, licking up into you to clean you up and ease you out of your orgasm.

Reaching down to wrap your fingers around Sirius’s wrist, you halted his attack on your cunt, panting heavily as you recovered. Sirius slowly slid his fingers out of you, standing up and easing your leg to the ground.

Sirius cupped your face with his free hand, pulling you into a soft kiss before he was pulling away to lick all your juices off his hand. You cringed at the sight of his tongue sticking out between his fingers, bringing both your hands up away to pull his hand away from his face.

Sirius grinned, mumbling “What, you want a taste?” You shook your head frantically as Sirius stuck his hand closer to you, but before you knew it he was pushing you up against the wall again and forcing his tongue into your mouth with a passionate kiss.

You melted against Sirius, coiling your fingers into his curly hair again as you kissed him, the juices on his face smudging onto yours. When Sirius pulled away, still smiling, he looked proud of the mess he made of you.

“Everyone’s going to know what happened if you walk out with your hair like that.” You stated, leaning back against the wall, pulling out your wand and muttering a quiet spell. You held your wand towards Sirius, which now had a single tissue coming out of its tip, and he took it, wiping his hands and face off. You mimicked his movements, drying yourself off.

“Yeah, well if you walk out with these tights, everyone’s going to know what happened.” You glanced down, patting your skirt down, and gasped loudly at the realisation that the matching rips on your inner thighs went all the way down to your knees, way below the hemline of your skirt. “Sirius!”

“I told you I would get you knew ones!”

“But it’s cold today!”

“We’ll stop by your dorm to change them before your next class!”

“And you promise you won’t touch them!?”

Sirius was silent, clasping his arms in front of him. You huffed, glaring at him as you slid your flats off, reaching under your skirt to begin taking the tights off.

Sirius’s eyes followed the movement and he bit his lip, swallowing thickly. “Baby…” Your head snapped up towards Sirius, shaking your head disappointedly as you snatched the tights off the ends of your feet. Your boyfriend busied himself by patting his hair down, though he didn't try too hard to make himself look presentable, wanting to flaunt your actions to the student body of Hogwarts. Besides, everyone knew you were the only person allowed to touch his hair.

Sliding your feet back into your shoes, you tossed the ruined tights in the trash can in the corner of the tight cupboard. Sirius took a couple of steps towards you, and he ducked his head down to press some teasing kisses to your jaw and neck.

“Should we go up to my dorm?” You raised your eyebrows at Sirius’s question, trailing your eyes down his body to land on his cock, straining in his trousers. With a giggle, you opened the door to the broom cupboard, walking into the hallway. Sirius ran up to you, catching up to your footsteps with a worried look on his face.

“We are going, right!?” You turned your head to look at Sirius, offering a hand for him to hold.

“Yeah, if you can make it all the way up there.”

taglist: @ravisinghs-wife, @amatoanima, @starry-remus, @pain-in-the-ashe, @hiireadstuff, @superlegend216, @treefairy-28, @kitkatkl, @rory-cakes, @juliet-f017, @fl0weryannie, @tiaajosephin, @why-am-i-like-this18, @theoraekenslover, @animalcrossingshameless

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the-oblivious-writer · 18 days ago

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With Her I Die |14|

Past J.T to Eventual S.S x Female Reader

Chapter Fourteen: Not-So Welcome Home

warnings: grief/loss, references to pregnancy loss, self-harm (character deliberately cutting themselves), suicidal ideation/behavior, blood, starvation/food insecurity, psychological trauma, references to death, and depression.

note(s): none of you know what's coming for chapter fifteen.

taglist: @morganismspam23 @slutforabbyanderson @serendippindots

masterlist | previous chapter | next chapter

You slip into the cabin an hour before dawn, moving with the careful silence you've perfected over weeks of hiding. The floor creaks under your weight—unavoidable in this weather-beaten structure—but no one stirs. The steady rhythm of sleeping breaths continues undisturbed as you make your way to the back corner, as far from the others as the limited space allows.

The small bundle you brought contains everything you now own: a crude knife fashioned from scavenged metal, the rabbit fur mittens you made during lonely nights in the cave, the small rabbit Javi had carved for you, a collection of useful stones, and the few articles of clothing you didn't leave behind when you fled. Not much to show for your time away, but survival rarely comes with souvenirs.

You arrange your meager possessions neatly, then wrap yourself in the blanket you've been carrying since you left. It smells like smoke and earth and animal fat—smells like you now. Sleep comes quickly, your body surrendering to exhaustion and the unfamiliar warmth of four walls around you again.

When consciousness returns, it comes with the weight of being watched.

You open your eyes to find Van standing over you, her face a mask of disbelief. The scars from the wolf attack pull at her skin as her mouth opens, closes, opens again—a fish gasping on land. No sound emerges.

"Holy shit," she finally whispers, her voice cracking. "Holy shit."

You don't move, don't speak, just watch as she backs away slowly, as if afraid you might disappear if she blinks. She turns and bolts from the cabin, the door banging open in her wake.

The noise stirs the others. Mari rolls over in her makeshift bed, muttering something unintelligible. Lottie, who sleeps closest to the door, sits up immediately, her eyes finding you in the dim morning light. Unlike Van, she doesn't look surprised. She offers a small nod, as if your return is merely the confirmation of something she already knew, then slides back down beneath her blankets.

You remain perfectly still, trying to delay the inevitable. You had planned this carefully—slip in before dawn, be present when everyone woke, minimize the drama of reentry. No grand gestures, no tearful explanations. Just here again, like a piece of furniture that had been rearranged.

But Van's reaction has derailed that plan. You hear urgent voices outside, footsteps approaching rapidly. The door swings open again, and Tai fills the frame, Van hovering anxiously behind her.

"Jesus fucking Christ," Tai breathes, her eyes wide.

You sit up slowly, the blanket falling away from your shoulders. "Morning," you offer, your voice rusty from disuse. The word sounds absurd in the weighted silence, but you don't know what else to say.

"Morning?" Tai repeats, incredulity sharpening her tone. "Morning? You've been gone for weeks. We thought you were dead. We found your—" She stops, her gaze dropping to your left arm, where the crude stitches form an angry red line from wrist to elbow. "We found Jackie's jacket covered in blood."

"I know." You resist the urge to cover the scar. It's part of you now, like everything else this place has carved into you.

"You know," Tai echoes flatly. "You fucking know."

Van pushes past her, approaching you with cautious steps. "Where have you been?"

Before you can answer—not that you planned to—the cabin door slams open again. Natalie stands there, rifle slung over one shoulder, her silhouette sharp against the morning light.

"What the fuck is going on?" she demands, then sees you. Her expression cycles through disbelief, relief, and settles on pure, undiluted rage. "You've got to be FUCKING kidding me!"

Her shout jolts everyone fully awake. Mari sits up with a gasp, rubbing sleep from her eyes. When she spots you, her mouth drops open.

"Hey," you say, the inadequacy of the greeting painful even to your own ears.

"Hey?" Natalie stalks toward you, each step vibrating with fury. "HEY? We've been mourning you, you selfish piece of shit! We've been—" Her voice breaks, and the crack in her composure is somehow worse than her anger. "We thought you were dead."

"I'm not," you state the obvious, because what else is there to say?

"No fucking shit," Natalie spits, then turns away abruptly, as if she can't bear to look at you.

The commotion draws the others. Travis appears at the doorway, staring at you with undisguised shock. Behind him, Mari pushes her way in, freezing when she sees you sitting there.

"You fucking asshole," she says, her voice a strange mixture of venom and relief. Then, to your complete surprise, she crosses the room and throws her arms around you, the embrace fierce and brief. When she pulls back, her eyes are wet. "You absolute fucking asshole."

The hug catches you off guard, her touch the first genuine human contact you've had in weeks. You stiffen, unsure how to respond, and she steps back quickly, as if remembering herself.

"Where have you been?" Tai asks again, her voice steadier now, slipping into the leadership role she's assumed since the crash. "What happened?"

You open your mouth, then close it. The truth seems both too simple and too complicated. I've been living in a cave five miles from here, having conversations with my dead girlfriend while slowly starving to death because I couldn't face any of you, especially Shauna. Yeah, that would go over well.

"Around," you finally say, the deliberate vagueness making Natalie scoff.

"Around," she repeats mockingly. "While we've been busting our asses to survive, you've been, what? Taking a wilderness vacation?"

You don't answer. Your gaze drifts to your meager belongings, the threadbare clothes, the scars on your hands from making traps, the pronounced hollows of your cheeks reflected in the worry on Van's face. No one would mistake your absence for a vacation.

"Did something happen?" Van asks quietly, her eyes on your stitched arm. "Were you hurt?"

"I'm fine," you say automatically, the lie so familiar it comes without thought.

The door opens again, and suddenly the air in the cabin feels too thick to breathe. Shauna stands in the doorway, her face a perfect blank slate. Her eyes move over the gathered group, landing finally on you, and something flickers across her expression—too quick to name.

You wait for her to speak, but she doesn't. Instead, she turns and walks away, her footsteps crunching in the snow outside until they fade into silence.

It's only then that you notice what should have been immediately obvious. Her bulky coat hangs differently now, her frame returned to its pre-pregnancy lines. The realization hits you like a physical blow. Shauna is no longer pregnant.

The others are still talking, asking questions you have no intention of answering, but their voices fade to background noise as your mind races. How long were you gone? Long enough for Shauna to give birth? What happened to the baby? Is it—

"Are you even listening?" Tai's sharp voice cuts through your thoughts.

You look up to find her watching you with narrowed eyes. "Sorry," you mutter.

"I asked what happened to your arm." She gestures to the jagged scar. "And how your blood ended up all over Jackie's jacket."

You glance down at the evidence of your deception. The wound had been deliberate—not deep enough to cause real damage, but enough to bleed convincingly over the fabric you'd salvaged from the plane wreckage months earlier. Enough to make them think you were gone for good.

"I cut myself," you say simply.

"No shit," Natalie snaps. "On purpose?"

You don't answer, which is answer enough.

"Jesus Christ," Travis mutters, speaking for the first time. "You wanted us to think you were dead."

It's not a question, but you nod anyway, a small acknowledgment of the truth they've already figured out.

"Why?" Van asks, her voice small. "Why would you do that to us?"

Because I couldn't face Shauna after our fight. Because I couldn't stop seeing Jackie everywhere. Because I thought you'd all be better off without me. Because I couldn't stand the way you all looked at me, like I was broken beyond repair.

"I needed some time," is all you say.

"Time," Natalie repeats, disgust evident in her tone. "While we were out here grieving you, you were what? Taking a mental health break?"

The mockery stings, but you don't blame her. From their perspective, your disappearance was an act of supreme selfishness. Maybe it was.

"Where's the baby?" you ask instead, changing the subject so abruptly that everyone falls silent.

Tai's expression hardens. "Don't," she warns.

"Shauna's not pregnant anymore," you persist. "I just want to know if—"

"That's none of your business," Tai cuts you off. "Not after you abandoned us."

Abandoned. The word lands like a slap. Is that what you did? It didn't feel like abandonment at the time—more like retreat, a necessary withdrawal to preserve what little sanity you had left. But looking at their faces now—hurt, angry, confused—you understand how it must have seemed to them.

"I'm sorry," you say, the words inadequate but sincere.

"Sorry doesn't cut it," Natalie says, but some of the heat has left her voice. She studies you for a long moment, taking in your gaunt face, your hollow eyes. "You look like shit."

You almost smile at that. "Thanks."

"No, seriously," she continues, her gaze clinical now. "Have you been eating at all?"

You think of the meager game you managed to trap, the berries that left you retching when you ate too many, the days of gnawing hunger that became so familiar you stopped noticing it. "When I could."

Tai sighs, the sound heavy with resignation. "There's porridge left from breakfast. You should eat something before you pass out."

The gesture, small as it is, feels like the first crack in a dam. Not forgiveness, not yet, but something close to acceptance. You nod gratefully.

As the initial shock of your return wears off, the cabin settles into an uneasy routine. The others continue with their morning tasks, casting glances your way when they think you're not looking. Only Lottie seems unaffected by your presence, going about her business with the same dreamy detachment she's cultivated since the crash.

You eat the cold porridge Tai offers, forcing yourself to take small bites even though your stomach clenches with each swallow. Your body has grown unaccustomed to regular meals, and you know from experience that eating too quickly will only make you sick.

Throughout the morning, you feel the weight of unasked questions. Everyone wants to know where you've been, what you've been doing, why you left in the first place. But they seem to sense your unwillingness to provide those answers, and gradually, the curiosity gives way to a reluctant acceptance of your silence.

All except Shauna, who doesn't return to the cabin. You catch glimpses of her throughout the day—collecting firewood at the edge of the clearing, mending clothes on a fallen log, always maintaining careful distance. Her absence from the communal space feels deliberate, a pointed rejection of your presence.

By nightfall, the initial drama of your return has subsided into something more subdued. You've been reintegrated into the chore rotation without discussion, assigned to help Mari with the evening meal. The work is mindless but grounding—chopping the tough winter vegetables, stirring the perpetual stew that's become your primary source of nutrition. Mari chatters as you work, filling you in on what you've missed, careful to keep the conversation light, away from topics that might require explanation from you.

"Lottie says the spirits are stronger in winter," she tells you, her voice low enough that the others can't hear. "She's been having these dreams... about spring. About what happens when the snow melts."

You glance over at Lottie, who sits cross-legged by the fire, her lips moving in what might be prayer or conversation with something unseen. "Good dreams or bad?"

Mari shrugs. "She won't say. But she's been gathering certain plants, drying them. I think she's planning something."

The information settles uneasily in your stomach. You've noticed changes in the dynamic since your return—subtle shifts in hierarchy, new alliances formed in your absence. Lottie seems to have gained influence, her mysticism offering comfort or direction where rational explanations fail.

As darkness falls completely, everyone gathers around the fire for the evening meal. You take a seat slightly apart from the others, not wanting to intrude on the closeness they've developed while you were gone. Shauna finally joins the group, sitting directly across from you, the flames between you casting her face in flickering light and shadow. She doesn't look at you, not directly, but you feel her awareness of your presence like a physical touch.

The conversation flows around you, everyday topics that require no contribution from you—the dwindling firewood supply, plans for reinforcing the roof before the next storm, speculation about how much longer winter will last. You let the normalcy of it wash over you, grateful for the illusion of routine, even as you sense the undercurrents of tension, the careful way they navigate around the subject of your absence.

It's only when everyone begins to settle in for the night that Shauna finally acknowledges you directly. As the others arrange their sleeping spaces, she approaches, her face unreadable in the dim light of the dying fire.

"Your spot is still there," she says, nodding toward the corner where you slept before, where you placed your things this morning. "No one took it."

The simple statement carries weight you can't quite decipher. An accusation? A peace offering? Both?

"Thanks," you reply, unsure what else to say.

She looks at you fully then, her gaze direct for the first time since your return. Something flickers in her eyes—anger, hurt, something else entirely—before she shutters it away.

"Don't disappear again," she says quietly, her voice pitched for your ears alone. "We can't go through that twice."

Before you can respond, she turns away, moving to her own sleeping area on the opposite side of the cabin. You watch her go, the words you can't bring yourself to say stuck in your throat. I won't. I'm sorry. I missed you. What happened to the baby?

As you settle into your designated corner, wrapping yourself in the familiar blanket that still smells faintly of the cave, you're acutely aware of the eyes on you—some curious, some wary, all waiting to see what happens next. They're expecting something from you—explanations, apologies, assurances that you won't disappear again.

But all you can offer tonight is your presence, your silent promise to stay. Words will have to come later, when the wound of your return isn't so fresh, when you can find language for the darkness that drove you away and the hunger that brought you back.

For now, you close your eyes and listen to the sounds of the cabin at night—the soft breathing of sleeping bodies, the creak of the structure settling, the distant howl of wind through trees. Sounds of life continuing, with or without your participation. Sounds that remind you that regardless of what drove you into isolation, survival here has always been a collective endeavor.

And somewhere in the darkness across the room, Shauna lies awake too, her breathing just slightly too measured to be natural. Both of you faking sleep, both aware of the other's consciousness, neither willing to bridge the gap that yawns between you—wider now than the physical space of the cabin, deeper than the secrets you're both keeping.

Tomorrow, perhaps, you'll find the courage to speak, to ask the questions that burn in your mind, to offer the explanations they deserve. But tonight, it's enough to be here, to be alive, to be seen again.

Tonight, it's enough to have come back from the dead, even if resurrection comes with its own kind of pain.

------

Morning light filters through the cabin's gaps, painting stripes across the floor. You've been awake for hours, watching dust motes dance in the beams, listening to the others stir around you. You've mastered the art of stillness—of being present but unobtrusive, like a shadow that doesn't want to be noticed.

When you finally sit up, something tumbles from the edge of your blanket. A small wooden figure, no bigger than your thumb—a wolf, its features carved with surprising detail despite the crude tools available. You recognize Javi's handiwork immediately. The boy has developed an unexpected talent during your time in the wilderness, transforming scraps of wood into tiny totems.

You turn the carving over in your palm, running your finger along the smooth spine, the pointed ears. It's the second one he's given you—the first, a rabbit, was tucked into your pocket the day before Jackie died. You'd kept it with you during your self-imposed exile, a small reminder of kindness in your darkest moments.

This new offering sits heavy in your hand. A welcome back gift, left while you slept. The gesture makes your throat tighten uncomfortably.

"He spent three days on that," Travis says, making you jump. He stands a few feet away, arms crossed over his chest, watching you examine his brother's work. "Wouldn't tell anyone who it was for. Just said he needed to finish it."

You close your fingers around the wooden wolf. "It's... nice."

Travis raises an eyebrow at your underwhelming response but doesn't push. "Yeah, well. He's got to do something to stay sane out here." He hesitates, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. "Like the rest of us."

The unspoken question hangs between you—what did you do to stay sane during those weeks alone? But Travis, unlike the others, seems content to leave it unasked. He simply nods, a silent acknowledgment of your return, before turning back to his morning tasks.

The exchange sets the tone for the day. Everyone works around you, giving you space while simultaneously keeping tabs on your whereabouts. It's as if they're afraid you might vanish again if they look away for too long.

You move through the routine in silence, volunteering for the solitary tasks—collecting water from the stream, checking the perimeter traps, gathering kindling in the nearby woods. The physical labor is a relief, far easier than trying to navigate conversations weighted with expectation.

By midday, your self-imposed isolation has begun to wear on Natalie. You can feel her watching you as you meticulously clean the morning's catch, her frustration building with each passing minute of your silence.

"Jesus Christ," she finally explodes, tossing down the knife she's been using to mend a tear in her boot. "Are you just never going to speak again? Is that the new thing?"

You glance up briefly, then return to your task. "I'm speaking when I need to."

"Oh, when you need to," Natalie mimics, her voice sharp with sarcasm. "And when exactly is that? Because so far all I've heard from you is 'yes,' 'no,' and 'pass the water.'"

You shrug, slicing away a fish's head with more force than necessary. "What do you want me to say, Nat?"

"I don't know, maybe start with where the fuck you've been? Or why you decided to fake your own death? Or literally anything about what happened to you out there?" She gestures wildly toward the forest that surrounds the cabin. "You can't just come back from the dead and act like nothing happened!"

The commotion draws attention from the others, who have been conspicuously giving you both space. Van hovers by the door, her expression concerned, while Mari pretends to be deeply invested in the mending on her lap.

"It doesn't matter," you say finally, keeping your voice level.

"Doesn't matter?" Natalie laughs, the sound brittle and sharp. "That's bullshit and you know it."

You continue cleaning the fish, your movements mechanical and precise. "I was gone. Now I'm back. The details aren't important."

"Not important," Natalie repeats, her voice rising. "Not important that we mourned you? That we cried for you? That some of us—" She cuts herself off, shaking her head. "Never mind. Fuck this."

She stands abruptly, snatching her rifle from where it leans against the wall. "I'm going hunting. Alone."

The door slams behind her, leaving a heavy silence in her wake. You continue your work as if nothing has happened, though your hands shake slightly now, betraying the calm you're trying to project.

"She was the one who found the jacket," Van says quietly after a moment. "Your blood on Jackie's jacket. It... it really messed her up."

You look up to find Van watching you, her scarred face solemn in the cabin's dim light. "I didn't mean for that to happen."

"Didn't you?" Van's tone isn't accusatory, just curious. "You left it where we'd find it."

You have no answer for that. The truth is complicated—you hadn't specifically intended for Natalie to be the one to find the deception, but you had counted on someone discovering it. Had wanted them to think you were gone, to stop looking. To grieve and move on, just as you were trying to do with Jackie.

Van sighs at your silence, moving closer to take a seat beside you. She picks up a knife and begins helping with the fish, her hands moving with practiced efficiency.

"Look," she says after a minute, voice pitched low for privacy, "I don't know what happened before you left. I don't know why you cut yourself or planted that jacket or whatever. But Nat's just... she takes things hard, you know? And Tai—" She pauses, glancing toward the door where Tai had exited earlier. "Tai's been through a lot too."

"Tai hates me," you observe, finally putting words to the cold reception you've received from the former team captain.

Van smiles faintly, the expression pulling at her scars. "Tai doesn't hate you. She's just protective of Shauna."

The mention of Shauna makes your hands falter, the knife slipping against slick scales. "Because of the baby," you say, the words more statement than question.

Van studies you for a long moment, seeming to weigh what she should share. "Yeah," she finally says. "Among other things."

You wait for her to elaborate, but she just shakes her head. "It's not my place to talk about it. If you want to know what happened with Shauna, you should ask her yourself."

"She won't talk to me."

"Can you blame her?" Van's tone remains gentle despite the bluntness of her words. "You disappeared right after..." She hesitates. "Right after whatever happened between you two."

You focus on the fish again, gutting it with more concentration than the task requires. "Nothing happened."

"Sure," Van says, clearly unconvinced. "That's why you both look like you've seen a ghost every time you're in the same room."

Before you can respond, the cabin door swings open and Tai enters, arms loaded with firewood. Her gaze immediately finds you and Van sitting together, and something in her expression hardens.

"Van," she calls, her tone deliberately casual, "can you help me with this?"

Van sighs quietly but stands, offering you a small smile. "Just... take it easy, okay? On yourself and on them. We're all just trying to survive here."

She moves to help Tai, who's watching you with undisguised suspicion. You hear their voices, pitched low in conversation by the woodpile, and though you can't make out the words, the tone is clear enough—Tai tense and clipped, Van placating.

You finish cleaning the fish in solitude, acutely aware of the social dynamics shifting around you. In your absence, new alliances have formed, new tensions developed. You're no longer certain of your place within the group's unstable hierarchy.

The day wears on, and you maintain your self-imposed distance, volunteering only for tasks that take you away from the others. By evening, when everyone gathers for the communal meal, you position yourself at the edge of the group, close enough to be present but far enough to avoid conversation.

Across the fire, Lottie watches you with an intensity that makes your skin prickle. Unlike the others, who look away when caught staring, she holds your gaze steadily, something unreadable in her expression.

"I knew you'd come back," she says suddenly, her voice carrying above the murmur of other conversations. The declaration silences the group, all eyes turning first to her, then to you.

"Did you?" you ask, speaking more out of surprise than genuine curiosity.

Lottie nods, her fingers absently tracing patterns in the dirt beside her. "I've been dreaming about you."

The statement hangs in the air, laden with implications you're not sure you want to examine. Before you can respond, Shauna stands abruptly, her bowl still half-full.

"I'm going to check the traps," she announces to no one in particular, already moving away from the fire.

"I just checked them," you say, the words out before you can think better of them. "There was nothing."

Shauna pauses, her back to you. "Then I'll reset them."

She leaves without another word, her silhouette soon swallowed by the gathering darkness beyond the cabin's circle of light. You watch her go, an inexplicable tightness in your chest.

"Nice job," Tai mutters, not quite under her breath. "Really smooth."

"What's that supposed to mean?" you ask, tension coiling in your stomach.

Tai fixes you with a hard stare. "It means you have a lot of nerve coming back here and acting like you didn't—" She stops, jaw clenching. "Never mind."

"No, go on," you press, a spark of the old fire flaring in your chest. "Since everyone seems to have something to say about me leaving, you might as well get it out in the open."

"You want it in the open?" Tai sets down her bowl with deliberate care. "Fine. You abandoned Shauna when she needed you most. After everything with Jackie, after your fight, after she told you about—" She catches herself, glancing around at the others. "After everything, you just disappeared. Let us think you were dead. Do you have any idea what that did to her?"

The accusation lands like a physical blow. "I didn't—"

"You didn't what? Think? Care?" Tai's voice rises with each word. "Shauna was falling apart, and instead of being there for her, you ran away and played dead in the woods for weeks. So yeah, excuse me if I'm not throwing you a welcome back party."

"That's enough, Tai," Van interjects, her hand coming to rest on Tai's arm. "This isn't helping anyone."

"No, but it might knock some sense into—"

"I said enough," Van repeats, her voice unexpectedly firm. "We're all struggling here. Fighting each other doesn't make it easier."

Tai looks at Van for a long moment, something passing between them that you can't quite interpret, then nods once. "Fine." She turns back to you, her expression still hard but the immediate anger contained. "Just stay away from Shauna. She's been through enough."

The directive stings more than it should, but you nod. You have no intention of forcing yourself into Shauna's space, not when she's made it clear she wants nothing to do with you.

The tense exchange effectively ends the communal gathering. People disperse to their evening tasks, the brief unity of the shared meal dissolved by the reminder of unresolved conflicts. You help clean up mechanically, then retreat to your corner of the cabin, fingering the wooden wolf in your pocket, its smooth contours a small comfort.

As night fully descends and everyone settles for sleep, you lie awake, listening to the familiar sounds of the cabin at night—creaking wood, soft breathing, the occasional murmur of someone talking in their dreams. Despite your exhaustion, sleep feels distant, your mind too full of the day's interactions, the questions left unanswered.

Across the cabin, Lottie shifts in her sleep, a soft sound escaping her lips. Your eyes drift to her shadowed form, remembering her words by the fire. I've been dreaming about you. Something in her tone had suggested these weren't ordinary dreams—not with Lottie, who sees things others don't, who senses currents beneath the surface of reality that the rest of you can only guess at.

As if sensing your thoughts, Lottie turns in her sleep, her face catching a stray beam of moonlight through the cabin's cracks. Her expression is peaceful, almost serene, but her lips move, forming words you can't hear from this distance.

You close your eyes, trying to shut out the image, the curiosity it sparks. Whatever Lottie sees in her dreams—whatever connection she claims to have to you—is a complication you're not ready to face. Just as you're not ready to confront what happened with Shauna before you left, or the truth of the baby she no longer carries.

For now, it's enough to be back, to be surrounded by human presence after weeks of isolation. Everything else—the explanations, the apologies, the inevitable confrontations—can wait for tomorrow. Or the next day. Or however long you can maintain this fragile distance between yourself and the consequences of your return.

But as sleep finally claims you, it's not Jackie's face that follows you into dreams, but Shauna's—her eyes meeting yours across the fire, filled with a hurt too deep for words. And somewhere in the darkness of the cabin, Lottie dreams of you too, her visions more intimate, more unsettling than you could possibly know.

#shauna shipman x you #shauna shipman x reader #shauna yellowjackets #shauna shipman #jackie taylor x you #jackie taylor x y/n #jackie taylor x reader #yellowjackets x you #yellowjackets x reader #yellowjackets

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literaryvein-reblogs · 9 months ago

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Word List: Fashion History

to try to include in your poem/story (pt. 1/3)

Adinkra - a flat, cotton textile that is stamped with symbols which create the meaning of the garment; produced by the Asante peoples in Ghana

Agal - a rope made from animal hair which wraps around a keffiya (square cloth) on the head and is worn typically by Bedouin men

Akwete - a decorative cloth with complex weave designs, creating intricate geometric patterns, made with many vibrant colors; it is usually made into wrappers for women to wear and it is made by the Igbo women of Nigeria

Aniline Dyes - synthetic, chemical dyes for garments first invented in the 19th century

Anorak - a jacket that typically has a hood, but not always, which was originally worn by the indigenous peoples of the Arctic designed to keep them warm and protected from harsh weather

Back Apron (Negbe) - an oval-shaped decorative pad worn by Mangbetu women over the buttocks in Central Africa

Backstrap Loom - a lightweight, mobile loom made of wood and a strap that is wrapped around the back; it only needed to be attached to a tree or a post for stability and to provide tension

Banyan - a loose-fitted informal robe or gown typically worn by men in the late 17th to the early 19th centuries

Barbette - a piece of linen which passes under the chin and is pinned at the sides, usually worn in conjunction with additional head coverings during the Middle Ages

Bark Cloth - fabric made out of bark from trees

Beadnet Dress - a decorative sheath dress made of beads worn in ancient Egypt

Bloomers - a bifurcated garment that were worn under dresses in the 19th century; they soon became a symbol of women’s rights because early activist Amelia Bloomer wore drawers long enough to stick out from under her dress

Bogolanfini - (bogolan- meaning cloth; fini- meaning mud) a cotton cloth made from strips of woven fabric, which are decorated with symbolic patterns using the mud-resist technique, sewn together at the selvage to create a fabric that is utilized during the main four stages of a West African Bamana woman’s life: puberty, marriage, motherhood, and death

Bombast/Bombasted - the padding used to structure clothing and create fashionable silhouettes in the 16th and 17th centuries

Boubou - an African robe made of one large rectangle of fabric with an opening in the center for the neck; when worn it drapes down over the shoulders and billows at the sleeves

Buff Coat - a leather version of the doublet that was often, but not exclusively, worn by people in the military in the 17th century

Bum Roll - a roll of padding tied around the hip line to hold a woman’s skirt out from the body in the late 16th and early 17th centuries

Burqa - an outer garment worn by Muslim women that covers the entire body, often with a cutout or mesh at the eyes

Busk - a flat length stay piece that was inserted into the front of a corset to keep it stiff from the 16th century to the early 20th century

Bustle - a pad or frame worn under a skirt puffing it out behind

Cage Crinoline - a hooped cage worn under petticoats in the 19th century to stiffen and extend the skirt

Caraco - 18th century women’s jacket, fitted around the torso and flared out after the waist

Carrick Coat - an overcoat with three to five cape collars popular in the 19th century and mostly worn for riding and travel–sometimes called a Garrick or coachman’s coat

Chantilly Lace - a kind of bobbin lace popularized in 18th century France; it is identifiable by its fine ground, outlined pattern, and abundant detail, and was generally made from black silk thread

Chaperon - a turban-like headdress worn during the Middle Ages in Western Europe

Chemisette - a piece of fabric worn under bodices in the 19th century to fill in low necklines for modesty and decoration

Chiton - an ancient Greek garment created from a single piece of cloth wrapped around the body and held together by pins at the shoulders

Chlamys - a rectangular cloak fastened at the neck or shoulder that wraps around the body like a cape

Chopines - high platform shoes worn mostly in Venice in the 16th & 17th centuries

Clavus/Clavi - decorative vertical stripes that ran over the shoulder on the front and back of a Late Roman or Byzantine tunic

Clocks/Clocking - decorative and strengthening embroidery on stockings in Europe and America during the 16th-19th centuries

Cochineal Dyes - come from the Cochineal beetle that is native to the Americas and is most commonly found on prickly pear cacti; when dried and crushed, it creates its famous red pigment that is used to dye textiles

Codpiece - originally created as the join between the two hoses at the groin, the codpiece eventually became an ornate piece of male dress in the 16th century

Cuirass Bodice - a form-fitting, long-waisted, boned bodice worn in the 1870s and 1880s–almost gives the appearance of armor as the name suggests

Dagging - an extremely popular decorative edging technique created by cutting that reached its height during the Middle Ages and Renaissance

Dalmatic Tunic - a t-shaped tunic with very wide sleeves; worn by both men and women during the Byzantine empire

Dashiki - a loose-fitting pullover tunic traditionally worn in West African cultures that was adopted by African diasporic communities as a symbol of African heritage in the 1960s and then more widely worn as a popular item of “ethnic” fashion

Dentalium Cape - or dentalium dress is a garment worn by Native American women that is made from the stringing together of dentalium shells in a circular pattern around the neck and across the chest and shoulders

Doublet - an often snug-fitting jacket that is shaped and fitted to a man’s body–worn mostly in the 15th to 17th centuries

Échelle - a decorative ladder of bows descending down the stomacher of a dress; worn during the late 17th and 18th centuries; sometimes spelled eschelle

If any of these words make their way into your next poem/story, please tag me, or leave a link in the replies. I would love to read them!

More: Fashion History ⚜ Word Lists

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mavlabajuri · 1 month ago

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What is Beskar? - A Breakdown

Beskar, also called Mandalorian iron, is a rare metal found only on Mandalore and its moon, Concordia. For Mandalorians, it's not just valued for its strength. Beskar is considered sacred, a holy material bound to identity, ancestry, and creed. The act of forging it is not merely a craft but a rite, performed by Mandalorian Armorers to bond warriors to their people through armor. Beskar is more than a metal: it represents resilience, heritage, culture, and soul.

Physical & Chemical Traits

Heat Resistance

What we know: Beskar can take direct hits from blasters and withstand lightsaber strikes without melting or deforming.

What that implies: It likely has an extraordinarily high melting point, higher even than tungsten (~3400°C). This places beskar among exotic, refractory metals or even unique energy-stabilized alloys. Canon also shows beskar resisting thermal shock (e.g., explosions) without shattering or fragmenting.

Durability & Toughness

“It’s beskar. It doesn’t dent.” - Medrit Vasur

What we know: It’s practically indestructible. Armor made of beskar resists slashes, blasterfire, lightsabers, crushing blows, and kinetic impacts. Even micronized forms can shatter bone.

What that implies: Beskar has immense toughness and impact dispersion. It doesn’t deflect energy like a shield; it spreads the impact across its surface. Think of it as a hybrid between metallic glass, Kevlar, and high-energy damping alloys. It doesn’t break, but the force still transfers to the wearer.

Malleability

“Mandalorians jealously guard their beskar-working skills and refuse to sell the formulas for any price.” - Imperial commentary on Mandalorian forging

What we know: Mandalorian smiths shape beskar into armor plates, wire, mesh, transparent film, foam, and even micronized particles.

What that implies: Beskar is incredibly workable when properly forged. Canon describes repeated folding (like Damascus steel), suggesting that its structural strength is enhanced through expert lamination and layering, a craft only mastered by Mandalorians.

Density & Weight

“Jaina examined her beskad; a blade forty-five centimeters long, maybe five or six centimeters wide, with a single cutting edge curving to a point—and much heavier than it looked, perhaps more than two kilos.” — Legacy of the Force: Invincible

What we know: “Full-density beskar” is heavier; alloyed forms with carbon or other materials are lighter but less durable.

What that implies: Pure beskar is likely denser than steel, possibly approaching the density of uranium or osmium. Alloying reduces weight and slightly lowers protective capacity. Export variants (like downgraded starships) use lighter, less refined beskar composites.

Corrosion Resistance

What we know: Beskar doesn’t tarnish, rust, or degrade over time, there’s no mention of upkeep for oxidation or weathering, even after centuries of use.

What that implies: It’s likely extremely corrosion-resistant, maybe through a naturally passivating surface layer (like titanium or stainless steel). That’s important for armor that’s expected to last generations, even in combat, salt air, or deep space.

Sound Signature

“Beskar had a sound like no other metal, all heavy dull solidity, no high tinny frequencies like durasteel when hit.” - Republic Commando: True Colors

What we know: When struck, beskar gives off a heavy, dull sound, different from the “tinny” sound of durasteel.

What that implies: This suggests high mass and excellent vibration damping. Materials that sound dull when struck often have lower resonance and greater ability to absorb kinetic energy, another point in favor of beskar spreading out impact forces instead of rebounding them.

Alloying Elements

“Anyway, this is top-grade beskar—full density, two percent ciridium, no fancy lamination or carbon-alloy.” - Kal Skirata

Known additives:

Ciridium (2%): A canon example from Skirata’s armor; Possibly a heat stabilizer or strengthener, unique to the gffa.

Carbon: Might lighten the material, increase flexibility, or improve strength (like real-word carbon steel).

The Shapes of Beskar

Plates - Ship hulls, traditional Mandalorian armor (beskar’gam)

Laminates - Layered armor, combining flexibility and protection

Wire/Mesh - Lightweight undersuits or integrated systems

Beskar-impregnated fabric - Beskar armorweave

Foam - Padding that still retains durability

Micronized particles - Used in crushgaunts

Transparent film - Rare; possibly used for HUDs or specialized optics

What’s in a Color?

"Armor colors and markings can indicate many things, from the clan or family to more ephemeral concepts such as state of mind or a particular mission." - Karen Traviss

Mandalorians don't just wear armor, they live in it. Beskar’gam is handed down, reforged, or remade, and each new generation adds their own mark. Painting one's armor is a declaration of individuality, experience, and lineage.

Cultural Significance

Declaration of identity: Some Mandalorian clans use distinct colors and markings to signify allegiance or heritage, including clan symbols or cultural symbols.

History and Feats: In some traditions, marks of honor, like jaig eyes, were painted on helmets to signify acts of bravery.

Expression and accomplishments: Sabine Wren, regularly painted and repainted her 500-year-old armor as both personal expression and symbolic evolution through her life’s stages and affiliations.

For Mandalorians, armor isn’t just armor, it’s a second skin. It's a visible oath to one of the six tenets of the Resol’nare: wearing beskar'gam. Choosing to paint one’s armor (or not to) says something.

Practical purposes: protection, camouflage, and preservation

While beskar is incredibly durable, painting it serves practical roles too, especially for older, heirloom and alloyed armor:

Corrosion control

Durasteel components, often used in place of beskar or to supplement it, can be vulnerable to environmental wear. Paint protects these surfaces from oxidation and corrosion, especially on long campaigns or in hostile conditions.

Camouflage & visibility

Mandalorians often operate in diverse terrain, paint lets them both blend in or intentionally stand out.

For stealth missions or ambushes, darker or terrain-matching colors can make a life-or-death difference.

Battle damage

A warrior's beskar'gam can take a hit, but it remembers every blow. Paint can mask surface damage, hide vulnerabilities, or maybe even accentuate past battlescars.

“The battles, the history, the blood all live within it. And the same goes for every Mandalorian.” - Sabine Wren

Painting Mandalorian armor isn’t merely cosmetic, it’s an ambulatory cultural mural, a testimony of paint and pigment. Every color, symbol, and stroke tells a story, and in true Mando fashion, it’s often one they’re not afraid to let you see coming.

K'oyacyi! // Mavla

If you have any comments, feedback, corrections or speculations, they are as always warmly welcomed!

#sorry din for showing ppl walloping you but it's for educational purposes #this is a bit more editorial than usual but I wanted to give it a go!#I know nothing about metallurgy beyond what google and wikipedia provides me #star wars #mandalorians #beskar'gam #beskar #mando'a #mandalorian culture #mandalorian language #mavla originals collection #the mandalorian #mandalorian #din djarin #mandalore #concordia #boba fett #captain rex #sabine wren

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blueishspace · 8 months ago

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Mostly canon Watcher Grian powerset.

Access to commands:

Teleportation (access to /tp)

Time manipulation (with /time and random tick speed)

Weather manipulation (with /weather)

Matter and energy creation (With /place and /structure and /fill)

Life creation (with /summon).

Blessings and curses (with /effect)

Locate anything (with /locate)

Changing rules of reality (with /gamerule)

Banning (with /ban)

Nature manipulation (with a mix of /gamerule and biome set)

Enchanting (with /enchant)

/Kill

Summoning fire balls and lightning (/summon)

Access to creative.

Canon watcher specific abilities:

Nigh-omniscience.

Telepathy (as shown multiple time)

Mind control. (Limited Life)

Control over celestial objects (like when they crashed a meteor into evo)

Force updates (Evo).

Manipulating player stats.

Resurrection.

Bonding player souls creating soulmate couples.

Emotion draining.

Inducing Amnesia/Apathy (depending on the interpretation of the life series)

Eye summoning (not canon but I would be disappointed if watchers weren't able to summon eyes)

Ability to speak in galactic.

Limiting players life in time.

Server/World creation and destruction.

Light modding.

Canon Grian abilities, some might be watcher related we have no way to know:

Avian abilities (not canon but basically canon):

Flight.

Higher speed.

Wing attack.

Super sense.

Pre-Hermitcraft :

Demon summoning.

Creation of living AI.

Building skill.

Demise s6:

Manipulation of player deaths.

Manipulation of player data and appearance.

Sherlock Grian s6:

Super intuition.

Infinity Gauntlet s7:

Portal creation, telekinesis, matter manipulation. (Space stone)

Energy blast able to destroy a planet. (Power stone)

Reality manipulation, transmutation, illusion creation. (Reality stone)

Time manipulation, creation of timeloops. (Time stone).

Mind manipulation, energy manipulatiom. (Mind stone)

Soul control, personality manipulation, soul absorption, spirit summoning. (Soul stone)

Black hole summoning. (Space + Power stone)

Implied super resistance to the power of the gauntlet.

Hippie s6:

Ground manipulation.

Plant creation.

Mother Spore s7:

Spore diffusion.

Mycelium and mushroom manipulation and spreading.

Boatem s8:

Invisibility. (From that time he was invisible and pranked Mumbo)

Entity s9:

Giving life to inanimate objects.

Creation of interdemensional rifts.

Immortality.

Manipulation of player height.

#trafficblr #traffic smp #hermitblr #hermitcraft #grian #watcher grian

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littlefireball · 11 months ago

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ᴡʏ|ꜰᴀᴛᴀʟ ᴛᴇᴍᴘᴛᴀᴛɪᴏɴ (ᴍ)

ꜱɪʀᴇɴ ᴡᴏᴏʏᴏᴜɴɢ x ᴘɪʀᴀᴛᴇ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 3.4ᴋ

ꜱᴇᴛᴛɪɴɢ ɪɴ ᴀʟʟ ꜱɪʀᴇɴ ꜱᴛᴏʀɪᴇꜱ:

ꜱɪʀᴇɴ'ꜱ ꜱɪɴɢɪɴɢ ɪꜱ ᴛʜᴇ ᴏᴘᴘᴏꜱɪᴛᴇ ᴀᴛᴛʀᴀᴄᴛɪᴏɴ ᴏɴʟʏ.ᴛʜᴇ ᴘʀᴏᴘᴏʀᴛɪᴏɴ ᴏꜰ ᴍᴀʟᴇ ꜱɪʀᴇɴꜱ ɪꜱ ᴠᴇʀʏ ꜱᴍᴀʟʟ ᴀɴᴅ ᴇxɪꜱᴛ ꜱᴏʟᴇʟʏ ꜰᴏʀ ʀᴇᴘʀᴏᴅᴜᴄᴛɪᴏɴ.ꜱɪʀᴇɴꜱ ᴄᴀɴ ᴄʜᴀɴɢᴇ ɪɴᴛᴏ ʜᴜᴍᴀɴ ꜰᴏʀᴍ ᴡʜᴇɴ ᴛʜᴇʏ ʟᴀɴᴅᴇᴅ ʙᴜᴛ ᴛʜᴇʀᴇ ɪꜱ ᴀ ᴛɪᴍᴇ ʟɪᴍɪᴛ.

"Sirens' beautiful voice is like a heavenly melody, graceful and captivating. Its sound resembles the clear waves from the depths of the sea, like the sound of ripples hitting the rocks, filled with mysterious and charming rhythms.

Every time they sing, it's like a magical spell, intoxicating and mesmerizing. A magical incantation, immersed in false happiness and beauty, constantly wanting to delve deeper into the enchanting melodies.

In the end, sailors who are attracted by the song will lose themselves, allowing their bodies to be swallowed by the dark ocean, disappearing into the endless abyss."

As a crew member read out the contents of the old book, the story described in it shocked all the sailors present, creating an atmosphere of unease in the air.

"Where did you get this book?" you asked curiously, playing with the old pocket watch in your hand, curious about the origin of the water-damaged and dilapidated book.

"I found it randomly, just in that chest." The crew member pointed to a wooden box filled with various books. The books had water stains and were worn out, and the wooden box had faded due to the erosion of seawater, losing its original luster and now only displaying a dull vintage color.

"This is just a scary children's story." You scoffed at these unsubstantiated 'stories,' believing that they were strange fabrications made by people in the past to prevent others from going to sea.

"But captain, this story sounds so real…"

"Have you seen them? We've gone to sea so many times, yet we've never heard those so-called songs."

"I swear I have actually heard them!"

"Then why haven't you died yet?" Irritated by their words, you straightforwardly dismissed their baseless statements, clearly showing impatience on your face.

"If you have so much time here to read stories, why don't you go and find some treasure?" Hearing this, the others immediately got to work, leaving the ancient books on the wooden box.

"Boring."

Your gaze fell upon the ship stranded on the shore. It looked completely dilapidated, covered in weathered marks and worn-out wooden textures. The once magnificent painted exterior of the ship had been eroded and damaged over time, revealing a dull wood color and decayed parts.

Part of the ship's deck and stern had cracked due to long exposure to wind and rain, exposing the inner support structure. The sails were dirty, torn, and useless, with some masts tilting and others even breaking halfway.

As you looked at the scene, thinking about the story of the siren, you couldn't help but wonder if the ship had met its demise because of them. Ha~ how could you have such thoughts when you had just scoffed at those stories earlier? Why do you suddenly believe now? Your own mysterious thought process is quite ridiculous.

"How is that possible?" You mocked your unrealistic thoughts, not dwelling on them further, and continued to search the ship for any remaining treasures. You were the only woman on board, also the highest-ranking captain. Since childhood, you had been 'hunting' with your father at sea, searching stranded ships for supplies or treasures, and sometimes finding unexpected treasures.

However, your mother did not approve of you going to sea, especially after your father died in a sailing accident. She feared that you would end up like him, attacked by sirens and buried at sea. You didn't believe in all this talk about sirens. They were just legends. Maybe in your heart, you still refused to admit the fact that he had died a long time ago, which was why you resist anything related to sirens.

"Reporting, captain. We only found these few pieces of jewelry, no other valuable items." You nodded, instructing them to safely store the treasures they found.

"Board the ship! Prepare to set sail!"

As night falls, the moon hangs brightly in the sky, giving off a fascinating moonlight. The sea breeze blows gently across your face, soothing your body and mind. You sat on the deck and enjoyed the moment of relaxation, admiring the endless horizon in front of you.

"How would you say it would be great if someone could sing?" One crew member lamented."Yeah, it would be better if there were beautiful women dancing here." Another man chimed in, hoping that there were beauties to cheer them up and add a little fun to their boring sea life.

It seems that their wishes have been heard by the God of the Sea. A beautiful tone of music came from nowhere, the unique voice full of power, yet gentle like a soft thread, gently stroking the heartstrings.

"A cold wind blows in my frozen heart, When I lean on a small candle, And hold back my tears" (ATEEZ-be with you)

"Wow!What a beautiful voice."

"Yes! Maybe the God of the sea heard our wish! It goes so well with this beautiful scenery." The crew couldn't help but admire this exquisite female voice, and echoed one after another. All the crew members unconsciously indulged in this heavenly sound.

On the contrary, while listening to the melodious music, instead of being lost in it, your doubts arose. "Where does the female voice come from?" There was only one woman on the ship, and you hadn't been singing, let alone having such a wonderful voice. Driven by curiosity, you couldn't help but explore the truth, but the strange sight in front of you surprised you.

The crew, who had lost consciousness, gradually approached the edge of the ship and jumped into the dark sea uncontrollably. The ghostly hands reaching out from underwater dragged their bodies, making them disappear directly into the abyss.

"What…?" Your heart tightened suddenly, and dark shadows appeared in your vision. You helplessly felt fear devouring you. "Are those sirens?! No!!" Despite the fear, your responsibility as the captain reminded you not to sit idly by. You took out the handgun from your pocket and without hesitation, fired at the monsters emerging from the water's surface. Screams of agony rose and fell, and the nauseating smell of blood made you sick.

"What happened? Why weren't they controlled?" The sirens underwater were puzzled. They had never failed before, and it was impossible for anyone to be immune to their singing… unless…

"Is there a woman?"

"A woman? I never thought there would be a woman as a pirate~" Wooyoung swung his fishtail below and swam from beneath the water to underneath the ship, curious about who fired the gun. Throughout history, sailors have predominantly been men, with only a very small number of women, because humans always believed that the presence of women would bring misfortune to a fleet. That's why most sirens are female, and their songs only have an effect on men. Due to this, there are only a few male sirens, who exist solely for reproduction.

Hearing about the presence of a woman made Wooyoung excited and curious. Since he was born, he had only seen photos of human women from the belongings of stranded crew members, and had never encountered a real woman. Although the sirens grew legs during their breeding season, they were still different from human women. He wanted to know what women were really like.

"Fuck!" The bullets were about to run out, but the enemies were increasing. Continuing like this, you couldn't hold on. You desperately grabbed the sleeves of the crew members who wanted to jump into the sea, preventing them from approaching the edge of the ship. But it's too hard to grab them all; stopping one couldn't stop the others, and you could only watch helplessly as another companion perished.

"What should I do… can I only use the cannon?" You knew that firing the cannon was the only way to escape from this predicament, but it meant killing your own comrades. As you pondered, another voice sounded, but this one was relatively deep, powerful, and magnetic - it was a male voice.

"Everything in this world, Hurts so much by your side, Can I come over? Can I do that? Can I hug you?"

His voice was melodious and enchanting, like a gentle breeze that lightly touched your soul, causing you to completely immerse yourself. The hands that had been gripping the crew members' sleeves became weaker, and in the end, your fist loosened, allowing the crew members to jump into the sea. Your feet uncontrollably walked to the edge of the ship, with empty, lifeless eyes, as if the flame of life had gone out.

Wooyoung had a victorious smile on his face, extending his hands to entice you to jump into the water, but unconsciously, he stared at your beauty and became fascinated. You were bathed in the gentle moonlight, like a graceful and beautiful flower, your long hair floating in the breeze, intoxicating. Wooyoung had never seen such a scene before, and for a moment, he was captivated.

Without a moment's hesitation, you jumped into the water, the sound of the water hitting the surface pulling him back to reality. He quickly held onto your sinking body, his hands grasping your neck tightly, wanting to accelerate your suffocation. But in his mind, the scene from just now flashed again, your elegant posture making him lose focus, and your captain's uniform piqued his curiosity about your story.

What's your name? Why do you become a captain? Why do you appear on a ship? Do you have no webbed? What does it feel like to kiss a human…even have sex?

Curiosity compelled him to let go of his murderous intent and gradually release his hand from your neck. But the merciless seawater had already taken away your breath, and your heartbeat felt weak as if it would stop in the next second.

"No… no…" he cried sadly, not wanting you to die like this. He wanted to know everything about you. His scaled hand gently caressed your face, lifting your chin. Without hesitation, he directly kissed your already pale lips. Anyone kissed by a merman could gain the ability to breathe underwater. Your lips touched lightly, warm and tender. You felt a soft sensation from your lips, and then your whole body seemed to float in the water. Oxygen returned to your lungs, and you could breathe again.

You slowly opened your eyes and found the man in front of you kissing you. Surprised, you wanted to break free but he tightly held your wrists, restraining your movement. He left your lips, pleasantly surprised that you had awakened. He smiled satisfactorily and said, "Let me take you back."

Without waiting for your reaction, he carried you in his arms and swam directly into the distance. You were amazed that you could breathe underwater, feeling the gentle and powerful waves passing through your body, a wonderful sensation you had never experienced before. Unconsciously, you held onto his shoulders, pressing against his chest, feeling the only warmth in this cold seawater.

In no time, the two of you arrived back on the shore. His fish tail transformed into legs the moment it touched the land, and droplets slid along the lines of his legs onto the ground. He gently placed you back on the ground and as he looked at your face again, he became captivated once more. Despite being soaked from head to toe, you still appeared so captivating in his eyes.

"You…" Too much information flooded your mind, making it difficult for you to organize your thoughts at the moment.

"I am Wooyoung." Without hesitation, he told his name, imitating human etiquette and extending his hand towards you.

"Y… Y/N. '' Maybe because your brain wasn't functioning properly yet, you involuntarily said your name and shook his hand, covered in scales.

The soft touch of your hand was different from other sirens. There were no hard scales on it, not even the slippery texture that fish usually have. Moonlight shimmered in your eyes, sparkling like starlight, proud and radiant, incredibly enticing. Once again, he examined your attire with curiosity, his curiosity like a string gently plucked by your mysterious aura, immediately bursting into infinite passion and interest.

Everything about you was like a book full of mystery and puzzles, waiting for him to read one by one. Every action, every detail, every expression of yours fascinated him more and more, making him increasingly captivated and unable to escape. As the nature of a male siren gradually revealed itself, his once innocent curiosity turned into evil desire. He didn't just want to know your name, your experiences, your story, but he wanted to know everything about you, to have you completely.

"You are so beautiful, so stunning." He approached you even closer, bending down to maintain eye level with you. His voice was deep and magnetic, like an ocean far away from the world, full of temptation.

"I want you, Y/N." Without giving you any chance to resist, he once again sang a beautiful melody. His words came slowly, like poetry, beautiful and captivating, irresistibly seductive.

With the sound of the song, you once again lost consciousness, letting him take off your clothes, leaving only your wet underwear. The deep and magnetic voice made you indulge in his temptation, unable to resist.

Your skin, unlike the magnificent scales of a siren, was instead pure and delicate, like smooth porcelain, flawless. Under the effect of moonlight, droplets of water on your skin reflected a faint glow, radiating a charming luster, inviting one to touch.

"Oh god, you are really pretty." He lifted your chin, kissing your lips. Unlike the gentle touch earlier, this kiss hid dangerous desire behind it. Lips slowly sealed together, a warm sensation spreading slowly, the friction between tongues making Wooyoung unable to hide his smile. You also responded to his kiss, sucking on each other's lips, occasionally lightly biting each other's lips, alternating between gentleness and strength.

Your hands involuntarily roamed each other's bodies, feeling the ups and downs of each other's bodies. Fingertips brushed over every inch of skin, igniting a burning desire, embracing each other closely, rubbing against each other. His hand glided over your waist, directly caressing your buttocks, the soft touch driving him crazy, occasionally squeezing; his other hand touched your chest, tracing the contours of your nipples in circles.

Your lips never separated, becoming even more frantic, tongues soothing each other. He extended his tongue directly into your throat, wanting to explore everything about you, to taste all your sweetness.

"Ummmm…" You couldn't help but feel a slight nausea, emitting a muffled sound. But your voice didn't stop Wooyoung, instead making him more intense. To him, you were his siren. His firmness couldn't bear it any longer, he urgently needed to enter your body - to mate, he wanted to mate.

"Ride me." Each of his words held a kind of magic, completely enchanting you. He lay on the damp and uneven ground, the sensation of sharp stones pressed against his back slightly discomforting, but he wanted to watch your body as he fucked you.

"Have a seat, babe." You took off your underwear, aiming for his erect member, slowly sinking down. The initial coolness immediately wrapped in heat as you entered, causing you to let out a captivating moan. As you sat down, the sharp stones beneath Wooyoung's body pressed deeper, leaving red imprints, but that didn't deter his desire to fuck you.

You supported yourself on his shoulders, beginning to bounce up and down. "Oh gosh, it feels so good!" He groaned, feeling his cock reach its deepest point as it touched every inch of your skin. The friction between his shaft and your vagina brought heat that made him more excited. Your wet walls wrapped tightly around his cock, each sucking motion stimulating his sensitive nerves.

"Fuck!" The pleasure beneath him fascinated him, he caressed your body, touching your breasts. Not knowing how to remove the bra, he tore it open from the middle, leaving the cups hanging on either side of your chest, swaying with your movements. He cupped your breasts, feeling their softness, occasionally massaging with his thumb.

"ahh~ahh~" The stimulation all over your body gave you goosebumps, every inch of your body bursting with countless sparks. Wooyoung's touches gave you endless pleasure, awakening all your senses, craving his caress.

"Louder, Y/N. I want to hear your voice."

"Ahhhh~fuck~" You released a scream from your throat, which reverberated against the walls of the cave, echoing throughout. "I can't get enough of you." He sat up straight, once again holding your face, lips tightly intertwined, the passionate kiss filling the air with sparks. Your lips and tongues twined and explored, releasing endless desire and passion.

He pressed down on you directly, this time it was your back against the rough stones, the slight pain making you slightly more awake. "ahh~wooyoung" When his name left your mouth, his entire body felt like it had been electrified, a surge of electricity ran through him, his cock twitching inside you. He had never felt such pleasure before.

"Say my name again, Y/N."

"ummm…Wooyoung." Fuck,he loves your moan so bad. His balls slapped you ass clearly as the speed of his thrusts increased with his excitement. There was no interruption in his thrusts, the tip kept hitting you in the deepest part, sperm kept flowing out and soaking your inner walls. The sounds of wacking and squeaking of water and skin slapping skin are mesmerizing, and your body's temperature continues to rise with no sign of cooling off.

"ahhh~ahhh~ahhh~" The friction from the rubbing of the gravel on your back wakes you up, while the pleasure in your lower body continues to take your mind, the double whammy making you dizzy. Unsure if you're awake or continuing to fall for his seduction, you only want more pleasure to replace the pain, letting out a moan in hopes that the man on top of you will try harder.

As expected, his thrusts quickened in speed, the intensity increasing. You arched your back, moaned, the connection between your bodies became even closer. "You are so fucking tight, different from those female sirens." "Fuck!!"He pulled you up, your skin pressed tightly together as he thrust into you. You also moved back and forth in rhythm, each thrust making you hold your breath.

"Ah! Ah! I am close." You wrapped your arms around his shoulders, buried your face in his neck, and screamed, your nails sinking into the palm of your hand, eyes squeezed shut, feeling yourself reaching the edge.

"I am gonna fuck my eggs inside your cunt." He also felt that he was about to climax, all the hot streams rushing to the tip of his shaft, about to overflow. With the maximum force, he thrust forward, after a few more thrusts, all the hot streams were released, and you reached climax in a moan.

His eggs creamed your cunt fully, even dripping onto the ground, the sharp stones beneath you stained with white liquid. He had never experienced such a climax, let alone produced so many eggs.

"That's my best sex ever." He pecked your lips and pulled out of your body. You also regained your composure, breathing not as rapid as before, your mind also becoming clear. You could now clearly see the man's face in front of you, his gaze was as deep and cold as the ocean, as if it could see through you completely; his lips were red,a mole on the lower lip and shaped perfectly, slightly upturned, exuding an enticing smile, but also revealing a dangerous aura.

"Wanna come with me?"

"Where?"

"To the sea, where I belong." He returned to the water, his legs transformed into a fish tail, gracefully floating. His body was slim and strong, his skin fair and smooth like a seashell. Wet hair pushed back, droplets shimmering under the moonlight, emanating an enchanting atmosphere.

The mysterious aura and unique charm that radiated from him made you feel like he was a being from the endless abyss. The ocean boiled because of his charm, creatures dancing around him, as if they had already been captivated by his beauty, praising this beautiful and mysterious existence. This was the most mysterious and seductive treasure that you, as a pirate, had ever pursued in your life.

All the animosity, all the doubts vanished long ago. Now you were completely immersed in the whirlpool called him, unable to wake up.

"Come with me, Y/N." He extended his hand towards you, each word seemed to be immersed in the music flowing in the water, awakening your desires and dreams hidden deep inside you. Without any hesitation, you took his hand, diving into the dark depths of the sea together.

From then on, no one knew the whereabouts of you and the crew - just like your father.

#ateez #ateez fanfic #ateez fic #ateez oneshot #ateez smut #ateez x female reader #ateez x reader #ateez x y/n #ateez imagines #ateez wooyoung #siren

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xuchiya · 8 months ago

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"Lean on Me" || choi san || one-shot

| genre: non!idol ateez. fluff. slice of life | mentions: teasing. fainting. jewelry gift. | This is literally my high school delusions. My old school is literally an 'old school' school like no phones and computers, being in a relationship is not allowed, and big ass windows as our source of fans--- i mean we do have electric fans and ceiling fans but with the weather and a very old, close to dying, e-fans? We really have to depend on the wind from our windows. Anyways, this list is basically a true experience. My personal favorite? Song Mingi's.

It was one of those lazy afternoons nearing the end of the school year. Normally, students were allowed to skip the last few days before summer break, but ever since the head of the high school department conducted an inspection, that freedom was gone. Now, everyone had to stay and use the remaining days to complete any missing requirements.

You were among those students, just a few subjects away from being done. You had been absent the previous week due to a health check-up, and as a result, you missed a few assignments and notes. The classroom was a mess—desks were scattered or arranged in odd shapes, some forming semi-circles where students were busy compiling assignments. Others had stacked chairs into strange structures, a testament to their boredom. Most of the faculty were either preoccupied with grading or caught up in the frenzy of graduation preparations for the seniors. The classroom felt emptier than usual, with many of your classmates still absent despite the new rules, or hanging out in other classrooms.

You were sprawled out on the floor, a book in hand to pass the time. Chaewon had her head comfortably resting on your lap, while Jongho had placed his nearly empty backpack on your leg and drifted into a deep sleep. Both of them often used you as a human pillow, their steady breathing filling the quiet space around you.

There were usually four of you together, but one of your friends was currently out practicing for the opening flag ceremony at the graduation. You understood that San had to fulfill his duties as the next student council officer, so you had prepared some clean clothes and extra food for him.

As you flipped to the next chapter of your book, you barely noticed the classroom door creak open until Choi San stepped in. He was the fourth member of your small group, and the most active when it came to extracurricular activities.

You glanced up from your book and took notice of his presence. His usual lively demeanor was dimmed by exhaustion, his face flushed and his hair slightly damp from sweat. He had just returned from practicing for the graduation flag ceremony, and it was obvious how much effort he had put into it.

San's eyes scanned the room and landed on you. A slight frown creased his forehead as he saw Jongho and Chaewon monopolizing your attention. Without a second thought, he walked over, reaching down to gently but firmly pull Jongho and Chaewon away one by one.

“Ehh~ Sannie!” Chaewon whined.

“Yah, hyung!” Jongho protested, but San's determination won out, and soon enough, you were freed from their grip. You chuckled as the two of them huffed and, resigned to their fate, leaned on each other instead.

You reached into your bag and handed San the extra clothes and towel you had prepared for him earlier. He smiled at the thoughtful gesture, his heart fluttering as he thanked you softly. Turning his back to you, he removed his sweat-soaked shirt. Your eyes widened in surprise, and you quickly hid behind your book, though you couldn’t resist peeking over the top. You caught a glimpse of his muscles flexing as he slipped into the fresh shirt, your heart racing despite yourself.

When he turned back around, you were quick to pretend you were still reading. San let out a tired sigh and plopped down beside you, his usual politeness momentarily forgotten. This time, instead of asking for permission as he normally would, he simply leaned against your shoulder, too exhausted to bother with formalities. You felt the warmth of his skin against yours, and although you were used to being leaned on by your friends, something about San was different. His presence was soothing, yet his closeness made your heart flutter.

“Sorry,” he mumbled after a moment, his voice muffled against your shoulder. “I’m just so tired.”

You smiled softly, shifting slightly to make him more comfortable. "It’s okay, Sannie-ah. Rest up." You gently draped the towel over his head, letting him relax further. His breathing slowed, and you could feel the tension leaving his body as he settled into a deep, peaceful rest.

As the classroom quieted around you, you realized that these moments—when the world seemed to slow down and it was just the two of you—were the ones you cherished the most.

Closing the book and placing it on your lap, you look down on San’s relaxed figure before you place your head on top of his as you slowly find yourself in a short bliss of nap.

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kasssscali · 1 year ago

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Hi hi! I’ve got Digital Circus brainrot and I need to share this idea with you

What about some headcanons of Jax with a really tiny s/o? Like when they showed up at the circus, they’re just automatically tiny (I mean like small enough to ride on someone’s shoulder tiny, like toad sized)!

And they’re super chill- very go with the flow, just vibing. (Like someone picks them up and they just like “OoP I’m up here now)! I think it’d be a silly concept! Big asshole rabbit and his tiny s/o

Thank you and have a wonderful day/night!

A/N: yaasssss i gotchu

When you first arrive to the digital world, everyone is in aw of your size, yes they have seen and witnessed numerous things Caine has put them through

however, you are the first shock. At first everyone thought you where an npc given your small size

once Caine informed them that you where indeed NOT an npc you were quickly surrounded by everyone asking you questions you couldn’t even answer yourself

The tall chess piece named Kinger even asked you if you wanted to be apart of his insect collection given you’re small size

of course you said no.

“Looks like you got a little competition Pom Pom”. Jax said, now that you officially introduced yourself as the smallest of the group, you basically threw Pomni off her short throne

secretly Pomni didn’t mind at all, for her it was tiring to literally look up to basically everyone in the digital circus

but now it was your turn to receive that attention

and no, its the the type of attention you want at first, the attention feels similar to a situation where all your aunts would pinch your cheek and make remarks about how big you have gotten

obviously it wasn’t as direct as THAT, but the constant babying for a while was really annoying

but eventually it went away, your personality was a go with the flow type of vibe. And once everyone stopped gawking about how short you were, it was easier to bond with everyone

People picking you up? You were all for it

Even though the babying stopped overtime, it didn’t FULLY go away like you wanted

just that one particular had to make it more infuriating, and yeah ya’ll know who this ass rabbit is already

“how’s the weather down there?”

”OOP- sorry shorty! Didn’t see ya there!”

the lack of creativity was enough too drive you insane, your relationship with Jax wasn’t the best obviously. Jax didn’t have a structural relationship with ANYONE

it took some time, it took a lot of time actually but you were able to tolerate his existence after a while

your feelings from annoyance, to friendship, quickly enhanced to romantic feelings towards him

and once he realized that he shared romantic feelings with you too, you’re relationship between the two of you changed

the teasing of course didn’t stop, hell of course it would never stop

once Jax learned to be more affectionate with you, he would start surprise picking you up and throwing you over his shoulder

your so light compared to him, it’s hard for him to resist that urge to just pick you up easily

Because of your size, often you have a hard time keeping up with everyone in the circus

Jax will gladly throw you on his shoulder and let you enjoy the ride

while you’re sitting on his shoulder, he’ll have his hand over your thigh just to keep you safe and secure

he might drop you purposely for the fun of it

#jax x reader #digital circus x reader #Tadc x reader #tadc jax x reader #the amazing digital circus Jax x reader #jax #tadc Jax #the amazing digital circus #tadc

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growingwildgardens · 2 months ago

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End of March Gardening Update Zone 8b 🥬🥦🫛🍓

Garden tasks:

-Trellis and top dress berries, pull old growth

-Trim back blackberries, wild cucumber, and other nuisance plants before they explode in the spring

-Thin and top dress strawberries, rhubarb, and other perennial patches

-Weed and prep beds with manure and compost if haven't already, top layering is better than tilling it in and destroying soil structure

-Add straw (light layer for garden beds & perennial flowers) or mulch (for perennial shrubs & trees) if your soil has a tendency to dry out and compact quickly

[ID: Young green seedlings pushing through earth and straw]

Direct sow or move outside:

-Snap peas

-Parsley

-Lettuces

-Kale

-Tubers (radish carrots beets)

-Cilantro, dill, Fennel

-Brassicas (cabbages, broccoli, cauliflower, Brussels, etc)

[ID: A garden bed layered thinly with straw, holding rows of different kinds of kale and celery.]

Cool weather greens are a less susceptible to cold changes and will be happier transplanted outside on a cool, cloudy day ⛅️🌨

Try to resist the urge to move these guys outside on one of these sunny, warm days we get at the beginning of spring now and stick to getting your snap peas and tubers seeded ☀️🌡🫛

[ID: A large number of seedlings, mostly peppers and tomatoes, growing from small starter pots. They're inside a plastic mini greenhouse.]

#gardening #zone 8 #pnw gardening #oregon #solarpunk #green witch #zone 8 gardening #oregon gardening #pnw #hopepunk #march #garden advice

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roofsnpaves · 4 months ago

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Keeping Your Home's Exterior in Top Shape: A Guide to Chimney Repair, UPVC, Gutters, Fascias, and Soffits

Hey roofers peeps! Let's talk about the often-overlooked, yet super important, elements of your home's exterior: chimneys, UPVC, gutters, fascias, and soffits. These components play a vital role in protecting your home from the elements and maintaining its curb appeal. Neglecting their upkeep can lead to costly repairs down the line.

Chimney Repair: Your chimney is your home's primary ventilation system. Regular inspections are crucial to identify cracks, leaks, or blockages that could lead to chimney fires or water damage. Look for signs of crumbling mortar, missing bricks, or staining on the interior walls. Professional chimney repair can prevent these issues from becoming major problems.

UPVC (Unplasticized Polyvinyl Chloride): UPVC is a popular choice for fascias, soffits, and guttering due to its durability, low maintenance, and weather resistance. However, even UPVC needs occasional attention. Check for cracks, loose fittings, or discoloration. Repairing or replacing damaged UPVC components can prevent water damage and maintain the aesthetic appeal of your home.

Gutters, Fascias, and Soffits: These three work together to protect your home's exterior walls from water damage. Gutters collect rainwater, directing it away from your foundation. Fascias and soffits provide support for the roof and protect the eaves from the elements. Regular cleaning and maintenance are essential to prevent blockages and ensure proper water drainage. Look for signs of rot, damage, or leaks.

Why Regular Maintenance Matters:

Ignoring these areas can lead to:

Water damage: Leading to costly repairs to walls, ceilings, and even the structure of your home.

Pest infestations: Damaged areas can attract pests like rodents and insects.

Reduced curb appeal: A neglected exterior can significantly impact your home's aesthetic value.

Need help with any of these areas? Check out Aztec Roofing's expertise in these essential exterior maintenance services! https://www.aztecroofing.co.uk/other-roofing-services

#homemaintenance #homeimprovement #DIY #roofing #chimneyrepair #upvc #gutters #fascias #soffits #exteriormaintenance #hometips #aztecroofing

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mkoshi · 25 days ago

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ithaca ma.rvel verse ideas below the cut

she was born within the winter court of otherworld, daughter of a powerful frost queen and a mortal mage. as a child, she showed dangerous promise, being able to create entire glacial storms at will. however, the court members feared her too much and exiled her, throwing her into exile through a tear in reality. she now lives in hiding on earth as shes exiled, trying to just live.

general lore

- born in the everfrost hollow, a small icy section of the otherworld.

- her father bargained for forbidden magic as he was a mortal mage who ended up in that realm.

- ithaca never learned to control the winter and ice: she commanded it. she is the veilbreaker, the one who is both of human and inhuman, ice and mortal.

- i think i will base her in new york? since thats where a lot of stuff takes place.

- her abilities and whatnot tend to attract fellow fae or sorcerers. she doesnt rly know why tbh.

- shes trying her best to learn about humanity whilst battling an insane amount of betrayal and anger.

powers and abilities

cryokinesis: able to command the cold, ice/ice storms, freezing temps, and icy crystalline structures.

fae magic: glamour, fae physiology, resistance to mortal magic, and her wings.

winters blessing: her connection to winter and ice allow her to alter weather patterns (ie summon wintry storms, snowfall, etc) or even an explosion of ice.

veilbreaking: (she does not know about this and probably wont unless someone helps her discover this) the ability to shatter boundaries between the human realm and fae realm, ultimately ripping the boundaries open.

#( ithaca c ) / * file .

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soapybutt17 · 2 years ago

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Light of My Life

Summary: The New Year meant new things for everyone in the Price Household. A not-so new face had also become an addition to the chaos if it all. Characters: Kyle "Gaz" Garrick x Price!Female Reader. John Price. Simon Riley. Soap MacTavish. Word Count: 3,146 Chapter Warnings: None A/N: @glitterypirateduck: here is part two like I promised. hope you enjoy~

Part 2 for Your Are My Sunshine

Masterlist | Series Masterlist || Request are Open

“Why are you more nervous than me?” Kyle couldn’t help but point out the moment the car has stopped in front of a rather large farm house a few hours outside the city.

As Kyle stepped out of the car and gazed up the vast expanses of rolling green hills, he couldn’t help but feel a sense of awe. You had always spoken about your family’s farmhouse in the middle of nowhere, but nothing could have prepared him for the sheer grandeur of the place.

The farmhouse stood proudly at the crest of a gentle slope, its stone walls weathered by centuries of wind and rain. Ivy clung to its sides, giving it a rustic charm that was impossible to resist. A slate room crowned the structure, and a tall, stone chimney sent a plume of white smoke spiraling into the clear blue sky. The whole scene was like something out of a fairy tale.

You led Kyle up the gravel path that wound its way to the front door, and as they approached, he couldn’t help but notice the colorful flowerbeds that lined the walkway. Brilliant reds, purples, and yellows contrasted with the lush green grass, creating a vibrant tapestry of colors that he would have only seen in movies.

As you finally knocked on the door, the noise from the inside of the house halted. Kyle had only notice now in his amazement the array of voice that could be heard from the inside.

Opening the door, your father, Captain John Price, stood talk. A deep frown rested on his lips the moment his eyes met him as well as your own. The frown grew even bigger the first moment he caught sight of your hands holding onto his own.

“Darling. Sergeant.” Price had acknowledged, opening the door further to let the two of you inside.

That had somehow surprised him. The Captain’s reaction was the last thing you would have expected to give him at this point after hiding his relationship with his daughter and how he had downright lied through his teeth for well over a year because of it.

What surprised him even more was the sight of two familiar co-workers that also seemed to be just as surprised as the two of you the moment you step foot inside.

“What the hell are they doing here?” You questioned but your question was immediately tackled into a hug by your mother.

“You finally brought your boyfriend along. He’s a handsome fella too.”

Kyle was left stun by the short woman—shorter than you were which was saying a lot as you barely reached his shoulders and you were a few inches taller than her. But her height did compensate at how much of a firecracker she was as he was being pulled away from the pack of lion ready to devour him.

With the two of you dragged into the kitchen, Kyle was had come to realize that the apple doesn’t fall far from the three as she began her array of questions about your drive to the farm, and how meeting his parents had gone. All of which you had answered with the same enthusiasm as your own mother. The smile on your face return, Ghost and Soap being in the house was momentarily forgotten.

“I’ve dealt with your father and the two boys for you two. So you’re both safe from them for the rest of the night.” She winked towards him and he had let out a sigh of relief because of it.

“Thank you.” Kyle spoke. “I’m sorry for coming without notice.” He apologized being another mouth to feed for tonight.

“Nonsense. When I learned that Simon and Jonny were coming I’ve made food that is enough to feed the entire army.” She spoke as a matter of factly. “Besides, I am still hoping that my daughter would finally bring you along to meet us. I’m happy that she finally did—even if the circumstance isn’t on your end on this.”

Kyle nodded before turning towards you knowing the implication of his arrival.

“Now since I’ve pulled you two away from the chaos of the three boys still in the living room, why don’t you two head upstairs to your bedroom to freshen up, I’ll deal with your father for you for the time being.”

John Price was not happy one bit. Not even the fact that he was home for once for the holidays could brighten his mood. Not even the fact that all his children were in the same room or the fact that his own sets of children in the base were also here to celebrate the New Year could brighten his mood.

How could he be so blind to not see it?

His daughter that had been through so much growing up with a father that gave you so much empty promises that it took him years to even allow him to make his own and keep. The daughter that might not have been his blood but he loved just the same like the rest of his own. The daughter that he would die over and over again if it meant you were happy and safe.

How could he have not seen the way you look at his boy Gaz, the man that he had immediately taken under his wing since the incident in Piccadilly. The man that he had hope to be better than he could ever think of being in his career. The man that was torn and pulled apart for the war that had no beginning nor end. The man that he would take a bullet for if it ever come to it.

How could he not see the way you two look at each other the way that you did in front of him now?

“They look so in love. He looks are her just like how you look at me.”

His attention had turned away from the happy couple and turned to his own beloved. When he had first found out about you and Gaz making out in the parking lot for Soap and Ghost to see, he had a mind to drive straight to Gaz’s house just to beat the living shit out of the man, but his wife was godsend. Immediately putting her foot down at his plan and brought all the anger he had to a halt.

“I don’t look at you like that.” He muttered, refusing to admit as such—not wanting to be compared to Gaz at the moment.

“So you don’t look at me with love, John?”

“I didn’t say that.” He muttered turning his attention back to the pint of beer in his hand. “I have my own way of looking at you.”

“Like you want to get into my pants?” She teased him.

“I mean—” He trailed off with a smirk, earning a light slap onto his chest and the all too familiar giggle from her.

“You’re impossible.” She rested her cheeks against his shoulder, her eyes glued to the picture perfect sight of their daughter and his—Sergeant. “After everything we’ve been through, I never thought I would see the day that she’s happy with someone.”

“She had always said that she swore off men after what her father did to you.” John grunted, the memory of those words still haunted him.

How such a little girl like you back then had been forced to grow up and see that not everyone could be kind—not even your blood. It was a statement that had haunted them all for years. If he’s not as good as Daddy John, I don’t ever want to have any man. It was a revelations for him back then, not only how your mind works as a toddler, but how you had finally called him Dad instead of the Mister Price or Mister John. It was at that moment that he had vowed to himself that he would make sure you had everything you could ever want, protected from any kind of heartache that may come into your life.

“She ate her words.” His wife acknowledged. “Don’t be too hard on Kyle. You always said that he was a good man. What difference does it make now that he’s seeing our daughter?”

She was right. She was always right when it comes to situations like this. But he couldn’t help but still be the overprotective father to you. He could throw you into the deepest parts of hell for missions because he was confident in your capabilities, but this was different. To him, he couldn’t do anything to save you from any form of heartache that would come your way.

“I don’t want her to get hurt anymore.” John finally admits.

The boisterous laughter of his children and that of Soap filled the air, the way you had egged Soap on with Kyle as his kids tackled Soap to the ground. But his mind was still filled with the dread of such a possibility. He could not see himself being able to see you heartbroken all over again over a man that disappointed you. He did not have the heart to look at Gaz the same way if he decided to hurt his baby girl.

“We can’t stop that, John. You and I know that. All that we could do is be there for her if ever the time comes. But seeing Kyle, seeing him with our daughter, I doubt that would even happen.”

“How could you know?”

“I just know. You have to trust me on this.” She winked finally standing up and announcing it was getting close to midnight.

John’s eyes turned towards the clock. It was few minutes to midnight and the New Year. With one command from him for everyone to head outside for the fireworks. Everyone scrambled out, Soap and the kids dashing out and racing to see who would be first. It left John and his wife for a moment in the sudden silence of their home.

“I trust you.” He whispered to his wife as they walked hand and hand outside to everyone standing around waiting.

The crisp cold air immediately hand him pulling his jacket off and wrapping around his wife. He had also noticed the same gesture that Kyle did for you. His jacket wrapped snuggled around you and you beamed at him as thanks.

Again, his wife was right.

As everyone awed at the fireworks that began to explode into the air, his arms had wrapped around his wife, but his gaze shifted back again towards you, how you snuggled into Gaz’s arms, both of your gaze up towards the sky as everyone began to countdown to welcome the New Year.

10.

Happy New Year!

The dark skies burst bright from the fireworks, and he had pulled his wife in for a kiss. Well over two decades together, who would have ever thought that this would be the life he would have for himself.

“Happy New Year.” He whispered against her lips before his attention turned back to every single one of his family.

His children wrapping their arms around Simon and Soap as they wished them a happy new year, to his daughter that had her eyes close and forehead resting against Gaz’s own, words that he couldn’t read were exchange between the two of them before Kyle gave you a gentle kiss on the lips, the nose, and finally the forehead.

Maybe his wife was right. Gaz could make you happy again.

“Dad! We’re on holiday!”

Kyle couldn’t help but smile at your overprotectiveness for him and his sake. But for the past twelve hours, he was left unscathed at the hands of his Captain and the two overprotective older brothers you had earned in Soap MacTavish and Simon Riley. It was a win on his book but not something he would want to test.

So when his Captain had asked him for a quick walk out in the open fields the following morning, he did not even attempt to refuse the offer. But it did scare him that he had been adamant that Simon and Soap to not join along even as the Scot had insisted on it. He knew well enough to know that he wanted to talk, not as his Captain, but as the father of his girlfriend.

“It’s fine.” He tried to reassure you but the frown on your lips grew deeper refusing to break the glare that was still directed at your father.

“I agreed with your mother that I will not do anything during the New Year party, I never promised not to after.” Price had pointed out with a grin, it was his own little way of getting on your nerves and it was working far too well than even he would expect.

“You’re impossible, Dad.” You muttered plopping yourself onto the dinner table for breakfast.

Kyle turned to look towards your mother as she had placed a place of full English breakfast in front of you with an extra serving of eggs just like what you always liked. She shared a pointed look with her husband whose smile slowly fell before making his way outside to wait for him.

“Don’t worry about him, his bark is worse than his bite.” She had reassured but Kyle knew it wasn’t always the case. Working for him for as long as he did, his bite was all the more worse than his bark especially when he was certain it was for the greater good—greater good for this case was his daughter.

“I hope so.” Kyle joked, but the fear was all too evident in his voice.

Kyle had ignored Soap’s teasing as he finally made his way out of the house. His Captain was patiently waiting with his arms crossed against his chest. The moment he had noticed he was out, he began to walk and Kyle was left to follow him in silence.

It had been a five minute walk, the cool morning air a welcome companion to what he would expect would be a heated discussion between him and the man walking in front of him. All the anxiety of the secret he had hidden from him had continued to eat him up as the walk continued but he was afraid to start the conversation.

“Did she ever tell you about her biological father?” Price had began as they had halted by the herd of cattle by the meadows.

“Yes Sir.” Kyle responded.

It was the first thing you had ever told him early on in your relationship, how it had shaped the way to view relationships in general. He had know early on that there would be a possibility of what they had to be over before it had even started. He had thanked his lucky stars that it didn’t. Lucky enough that he could be everything you had hoped out of a relationship that you wanted and needed.

“Then I don’t need to tell you why I am not keen on having anyone dating my daughter, especially with someone that she works so closely with.”

Price had finally turned to look at him. Kyle had been all too familiar with the look. The stern cold wall that he used to intimidate any adversary that would even dare come their way. It was unnerving that he was directed with such a gaze instead of being in the background witnessing some other poor soul.

“Yes Sir.” Kyle agreed. “But I love your daughter, Sir. We have thought it would be best for everyone to keep in a secret until she was good and ready.”

“How long has this been going on?”

“Over a year, Sir.”

“And what are you intentions with my daughter?”

Kyle took a moment, wanting to form his words carefully without causing more tension and chaos in their relationship going forward.

“I want to be the man she could depend on when she needs me to be. I want to be the man that could make her the happiest that she could be. I—I just want to be by her side whatever relationship it may be that she would want and need from me.”

He waited with bated breath as the Captain stared at him, scrutinizing his words carefully for all it was worth. Kyle was thinking that he was mincing his words and looking for anything that would incriminate him as insincere, but he was certain he would not find any.

“I want you to know, Sergeant.” He began. “That if I ever learn that you hurt her, in any shape or form, I would be the last person you should be worried about. You will worry for your career, for your safety, for your life if you even dare hurt a single hair from her pretty little head.”

Kyle gulped but nodded, knowing that this was no longer his Captain, but the father of his girlfriend that would drag him to the deepest parts of hell if he makes so much as a mistake of making you cry.

“But last night, when I saw her with you, she was the happiest I have ever seen. It was rare and far between when she was like it. The first time I’ve seen it was when I told her that I was officially adopting her as my own daughter. Those bright eyes that twinkled in a love she never thought she would ever deserve. I saw it when she looks at you.”

Kyle couldn’t help but smile at such an information. He know the look he was talking about, he was certain that he was giving you the same, a look that was even more in love and adoration for you and everything that you do for him.

“You have my blessing when it comes to your relationship, but just know that you will both endure a couple of weeks of intense drills for lying to me about your relationship.”

Kyle thought as much. He nodded shoving his hands onto his pocket and only now did he realize the small box nestled deep inside his sweatpants.

“I also wanted to ask you blessing for something, Sir.” He began pulling out the velvet box for the man to see.

The Captain took a moment to realize what it was before a chuckle escaped his lips.

“I should have expected this.” He shook his head. But agreed nonetheless.

It didn’t take long for their holiday off to end and everyone was back to their normal lives inside the base and in mission. It did take long for Kyle to propose, who would have ever thought that he would in the brink of death while you held him close to you.

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