underfeddemonboy

[woolsboutiqueuomo]

[zablife]

Hi Lee! Hope you’re well! ☺️

Sooo….seeing your moodboard got me thinking about the lovely new John x Solomons!sister pairing and I was thinking………

I love their friendship and the bond that they’ve built off of banter but I wonder if there was ever a moment where things slipped into something more?? Like they were on a tough mission, or things got a little too close for comfort where one was almost hurt and they acted on the more promiscuous feelings that they’ve been otherwise teasingly (maybe they’re not teasing in nature, who knows) throwing around — like there’s so much emotion circulating between them because they’re so close with each other that they just slip … ??

And it could be a one off thing that they then dance around because they were caught in the heat of them moment, or it could be what tilts them into that realm — I’d be intrigued to read either way because I just love them.

Anyways…sorry for rambling…I hope what I’ve said makes sense! 😊

Shots Fired (Partners in Crime AU)

John Shelby x Y/n Solomons

Author's Note: Read previous parts Afternoon Tea and Co-Workers.

“Barney, wait!” you shouted, stumbling from the pub where you’d been celebrating Tommy’s win at the races. John had disappeared some time ago and you’d been looking for him ever since, hoping to win more of his money at darts.

“Y/n, is that you screeching like a bloody alley cat?” John asked, turning toward the sound of your voice.

Only the glowing end of his cigar was visible through the evening fog as you pawed for him to hold yourself upright. 

Grasping his coat sleeve you nearly toppled over as you giggled, “Would you look at that, I went lookin’ for trouble and I found him!” 

“You’re drunk,” John observed, pulling you to your feet.

“Your ma’s drunk!” you retorted with a snort. 

“Alright, I’m taking you home,” John said, steering you toward his car by your elbow. God only knew what you’d get up to if he left you by yourself in Sabini’s territory and he’d be the one Alfie blamed if something happened.

“Not if I escape,” you whispered loudly, and quite obnoxiously, into his ear. Then you broke free of his grasp and ran in the opposite direction as quickly as your wobbly legs would allow.

“Y/n! M not chasing you,” John warned, clenching his cigar in his teeth and shoving his hands in his pockets. As he lost sight of you he growled in frustration, kicking the pavement. “Fuckin hell,” he cursed under his breath as he tossed his cigar aside, knowing he would have to break his promise. 

He set out in long strides, looking out from under his cap with a scowl at the thought of playing hide and seek. Occasionally he heard the click of your heels or a peel of laughter echoing down an alley and he knew he was getting close. As he was about to call to you for the second time, gunshots rang out and his heart clenched in his chest.

Pulling his revolver from under his jacket, he pressed himself against the side of the building where he stood and cautiously made his way toward the noise. Tires squealed as a coupe raced away into the night and John broke into a run, a sick feeling of dread washing over him.

His suspicions were confirmed as he approached you, lying in a pool of blood under a street lamp. “Shit! Y/n!” He called out, sliding next to you to see where you’d been hurt. When you didn’t respond, he began removing your coat, hands roaming over your body for the source of your injury. 

When his eyes came to rest at the crimson stain blooming over your chest he began to panic, clawing at your beaded dress to assess the damage. He pressed his ear to your mouth to listen for your breath, but only heard his own frantic heartbeat jumping into his throat at the thought of losing you. 

At that moment your eyes fluttered opened and you gasped for air, sputtering, “You grabbin’ my tit?”

John fell backward from shock, landing on his ass. “What the fuck, Y/n? I thought you were dead!” he gulped, running a shaky hand through his hair.

You let out a strangled laugh, followed by a groan of pain as you attempted to roll over. “Jesus Christ!” you yelled.

John winced as he exclaimed, “Do you know you’ve got the loudest voice of any human being I’ve ever met?” 

“Happy to know my lungs work though, ain’t ya?” you asked with a weak smile. 

“What are callin’ him for anyway?” he mumbled, placing pressure on your shoulder as soon as he realized that’s where the bullet had entered. 

You wanted to say something clever in return, but the loss of blood was making you woozy, giving the world around you a dreamlike quality. The lamplight made a halo above John’s head and you blinked to right your blurry vision. “You’re an angel,” you remarked at your delusion, focusing on the fading glow surrounding him.

“Now I know we’re fucked,” he joked. “That’s the only nice thing you’ve ever said to me.”

Watching the edges of John’s face darken forebodingly, fear gnawed at you and you briefly wondered if you might die. Your fingers reached for him, needing comfort, but your arm stubbornly refused to move. “Might be the last,” you warned him before you passed out in his arms.

——————————————————-

When you came to you were in a hospital bed, John’s profile staring ahead as his hands twisted his cap nervously. Your arm throbbed with pain as you rolled toward him and he startled, offering hushed apologies. “I’m sorry, Y/n. I shouldn’t have let you go off alone like that. If anyone should’ve taken a bullet, it’s me,” he said, looking at you with red, watery eyes. The guilt had been eating at him as he sat waiting for you to wake, hoping you’d forgive him for not protecting you.

“No, I’m glad it was me,” you choked out.

“Hey, hey, don’t say that,” John hushed you, pushing the hair from your face. “You didn’t deserve any of this.”

You tried to sit up, looking at him incredulously. “I didn’t mean I deserved it!” you exclaimed, scrunching your nose in disapproval. “I meant cos you’re a fucking candy ass,” you chuckled at him. 

Irritated by the suggestion, John’s voice rose defensively, “You think you took a bullet better than me?”

“I know I did and I won’t be whinging about how it looks either.” Lowering your voice to imitate his low timber you continued, “Oh, me face! If it hadn’t been for that shrapnel in France…” 

Your chat was interrupted when the door to your room opened with a quick push and a nurse peeked in to check on you, her bright smile widening at the sight of John.

“You should fuck her,” you said a bit too loudly, the after effects of the morphine still clouding your judgment. “I ain’t his trouble, love! You fancy him?” you called to her, oblivious to the fact that the poor woman was now turning a deep shade of red.

“Alright, that’s enough,” John said, pushing you back against the pillows.

“He doesn’t have the clap….anymore,” you shouted as the nurse scurried away. John dragged a hand down his face. 

“That’s how you thank me for saving your life?” he asked wearily, raising his eyebrows at you.

“Pffft, can’t kill me,” you said dismissively. “You’re such a dramatic little cunt, Shelby” you added with a roll of your eyes.

John huffed out a laugh. “Good to see you're feeling like yourself again. Last night I was your angel, remember?”

“Well I was dying, weren’t I?” you said innocently, pulling your blankets to your chin.

“For fuck sake,” John muttered.

Read Part 4-The Runaway

[pespisacompany]

Winterizing Your Home’s Plumbing: Tips for a Trouble-Free Winter

As winter approaches, ensuring your home’s plumbing is prepared for the cold weather is crucial to prevent costly damages and inconveniences. Winterizing your plumbing involves taking proactive steps to protect your pipes and fixtures from freezing temperatures. Here are some essential tips to help you get your home ready for winter. Insulate Your Pipes:

Identify Vulnerable Pipes: Check for pipes in unheated areas like basements, crawl spaces, attics, and garages. Also, pay attention to pipes along exterior walls.

Use Pipe Insulation: Wrap exposed pipes with foam insulation sleeves or heat tape. This helps maintain the temperature of the pipes and prevents freezing.

Seal Gaps: Use caulk or spray to seal any gaps or cracks in walls and floors where cold air might enter and reach pipes.

Protect Outdoor Faucets:

Disconnect Hoses: Remove and store garden hoses. Leaving them attached can cause water to back up and freeze to burst pipes.

Install Faucet Covers: Use insulated faucet covers to protect outdoor spigots from freezing temperatures.

Shut Off and Drain: Locate the shut-off valve for outdoor faucets and turn it off. Open the faucet to drain any remaining water.

Prepare Indoor Plumbing:

Keep Cabinet Doors Open: Allow warm air to circulate pipes under sinks by keeping cabinet doors open, especially if they are on exterior walls.

Maintain a warmer temperature inside the house to help prevent vulnerable pipes from freezing. Turning the thermostat way down or off may save some money in heating costs but it could cost big if a pipe freezes and bursts.

Know how to Shut Off Water:

Locate the Main Shut-Off Valve: Familiarize yourself with the location of your home’s main water shut-off valve. In case of a burst pipe, you can quickly turn off the water to minimize damage.

Educate Household Members: Ensure everyone in your household knows how to shut off the water in case of an emergency.

Consider Professional Help:

Hire a Plumber: If you’re unsure about winterizing your plumbing or have complex plumbing systems, consider hiring Pespisa Company. We can perform a thorough inspection and make the necessary preparations.

Routine Maintenance: Schedule regular plumbing maintenance to identify and address potential issues before they become major problems.

For more information visit https://pespisaco.com/ Original Source: https://bit.ly/3AqafZB

[mrhunterlondon]

Safeguarding Your Home: Tips to Protect Pipes from Cold in London Winters

As winter sets in across London, it brings with it the potential for frozen pipes, a common and troublesome issue for homeowners. To prevent costly damage and inconvenience, it's essential to take proactive measures to protect your plumbing system. In this blog post, we'll explore practical tips recommended by a trusted Plumber in Putney to safeguard your pipes during the cold winter months.

Insulating Exposed Pipes: A Simple Yet Effective Solution

One of the most effective ways to prevent pipes from freezing is to insulate them properly. By wrapping exposed pipes in foam insulation sleeves or using heating tape, you can create a barrier against the cold and maintain a consistent temperature within the pipes. Our Plumber in Putney advises homeowners to pay special attention to pipes in unheated areas such as attics, basements, and crawl spaces.

Sealing Drafts and Air Leaks: Minimizing Exposure to Cold Air

Drafts and air leaks around windows, doors, and utility penetrations can allow cold air to seep into your home, putting your pipes at risk of freezing. To mitigate this risk, our Plumber in Putney recommends sealing any gaps or cracks with weatherstripping or caulking. By reducing the infiltration of cold air, you can help maintain a warmer environment around your pipes, lowering the likelihood of freezing.

Keeping Interior Temperatures Consistent: Maintaining a Warm Home

Maintaining a consistent temperature inside your home is crucial for preventing pipes from freezing. The Plumber in Putney advises homeowners to keep thermostats set to a consistent temperature, even when away from home. Additionally, opening cabinet doors under sinks and allowing warm air to circulate around plumbing fixtures can help prevent freezing in vulnerable areas.

Draining Outdoor Faucets and Sprinkler Systems: Preventing Freezing Damage

Before temperatures plummet, it's essential to drain and shut off outdoor faucets and irrigation systems to prevent water from freezing inside the pipes. Our Plumber in Putney recommends disconnecting garden hoses and draining any remaining water to prevent damage to outdoor plumbing fixtures. By taking these simple steps, you can avoid costly repairs and ensure your outdoor plumbing remains intact throughout the winter months.

Monitoring Weather Forecasts: Staying Ahead of Extreme Cold Snaps

Being proactive and monitoring weather forecasts can help you prepare for extreme cold snaps and take necessary precautions to protect your pipes. Our Plumber in Putney advises homeowners to be especially vigilant during periods of prolonged cold weather, as this increases the risk of frozen pipes. By staying informed and prepared, you can effectively safeguard your plumbing system against winter-related damage.

In conclusion, protecting your pipes from the cold during London winters requires foresight, planning, and proactive measures. By following the expert advice of a trusted Plumber in Putney and implementing these practical tips, you can minimize the risk of frozen pipes and ensure the continued functionality of your plumbing system throughout the winter season. Don't wait until it's too late – take action now to protect your home from the potential hazards of freezing temperatures.

[theplumbnerd]

Preventing Frozen Pipes: Effective Measures and FAQs

Introduction

Frozen pipes can be a significant concern for homeowners, Preventing Frozen Pipes, water damage, and costly repairs. Fortunately, there are several effective measures you can take to prevent your pipes from freezing during cold weather. In this guide, we'll explore these measures and provide practical tips for safeguarding your plumbing system against freezing temperatures.

Measures to Prevent Frozen Pipes

Here are some essential measures for preventing your pipes from freezing: 1. Insulate Exposed Pipes One of the most effective ways to prevent frozen pipes is to insulate any exposed pipes in your home, especially those located in unheated areas such as basements, attics, and crawl spaces. Use pipe insulation sleeves or wrap the pipes with heat tape to provide an extra layer of protection against freezing temperatures. 2. Maintain a Consistent Temperature Maintaining a consistent temperature inside your home can help prevent pipes from freezing during cold weather. Keep the thermostat set to the same temperature during the day and night, and avoid lowering the temperature significantly when you're away from home. Opening cabinet doors under sinks and allowing warm air to circulate around pipes can also help prevent freezing. 3. Drip Faucets During Freezing Weather During periods of freezing weather, allow faucets to drip slowly to relieve pressure in the pipes and prevent them from freezing. Even a small amount of running water can help prevent pipes from freezing and bursting. Focus on dripping faucets located along exterior walls or in unheated areas of your home. 4. Seal Cracks and Gaps Inspect the exterior of your home for any cracks or gaps where cold air could enter and cause pipes to freeze. Seal any gaps around doors, windows, and foundation vents with caulk or weatherstripping to keep cold air out and warm air in. Pay special attention to areas where pipes enter or exit your home and seal any gaps or openings around them. 5. Drain and Disconnect Outdoor Hoses Before the onset of freezing weather, drain and disconnect outdoor hoses to prevent water from freezing inside them and causing damage to the hose and connected pipes. Store hoses indoors in a climate-controlled area if possible, or in a protected outdoor space such as a shed or garage.

FAQs

- How cold does it have to be for pipes to freeze? Pipes can freeze when temperatures drop to 32 degrees Fahrenheit (0 degrees Celsius) or below for an extended period. However, factors such as wind chill, insulation levels, and the presence of heating sources can affect the likelihood of pipes freezing. - What are the signs that pipes are frozen? Signs of frozen pipes include reduced water flow or no water coming out of faucets, strange odors or tastes in the water, frost on visible pipes, or bulging or cracked pipes. If you suspect that your pipes are frozen, take immediate action to prevent further damage and thaw the pipes safely. - How can I thaw frozen pipes safely? To thaw frozen pipes safely, turn off the water supply to the affected area and open faucets to relieve pressure. Use a hairdryer, heat lamp, or portable space heater to apply gentle heat to the frozen pipe, starting at the faucet end and working toward the blockage. Avoid using open flames or high-temperature heat sources, as they can damage pipes and pose a fire hazard. - What should I do if my pipes freeze and burst? If your pipes freeze and burst, turn off the water supply to the affected area immediately to prevent further flooding. Contact a licensed plumber to repair the burst pipe and assess any water damage to your home. Clean up any standing water and dry out affected areas to prevent mold growth and structural damage. - Are there any long-term solutions for preventing frozen pipes? In addition to the measures outlined in this guide, long-term solutions for preventing frozen pipes include adding insulation to walls and attics, installing heat tape or heat cables on vulnerable pipes, and relocating pipes to interior walls or heated areas of your home.

Conclusion

Preventing frozen pipes is essential for maintaining the integrity of your plumbing system and avoiding costly damage during cold weather. By following the measures outlined in this guide and consulting the accompanying FAQs, you can safeguard your pipes against freezing temperatures and enjoy peace of mind year-round. Learn more from Plumbnerd Read the full article

[moroccosaharatours]

The Ultimate Guide to the Marrakech to Fes Desert Tour in 3 Days

Welcome to the ultimate guide to the Marrakech to Fes Desert Tour in 3 days. If you're dreaming of a thrilling adventure through the stunning Moroccan desert landscape, this is the journey for you.

Embark on a once-in-a-lifetime experience as you traverse from the bustling city of Marrakech to the enchanting city of Fes, immersing yourself in the captivating beauty of the Sahara Desert along the way.

In this comprehensive guide, we'll provide you with everything you need to know to make the most of your desert tour. From the best time to go and what to pack, to the must-visit landmarks and activities, we've got you covered.

Get ready to witness breathtaking sunsets over endless golden dunes, ride camels like a nomad, and sleep under a sky filled with glittering stars in a Berber desert camp. Discover the rich cultural heritage of the Berber people in their traditional villages and savor the flavors of authentic Moroccan cuisine.

Don't miss out on an unforgettable adventure through the Morocco desert tour. Get ready to create memories that will last a lifetime. Let's dive in!

What to pack for the Marrakech to Fes Desert Tour

Packing for the Marrakech to Fes Desert Tour requires careful consideration of the weather and activities you'll be participating in. Here are some essential items to pack:

Lightweight and breathable clothing: Pack comfortable and loose-fitting clothing, as the desert can get quite hot during the day. Opt for lightweight fabrics that allow air circulation. Don't forget to pack a scarf or shawl to protect yourself from the sun.

Sun protection: Bring sunscreen with a high SPF, sunglasses, and a wide-brimmed hat to protect yourself from the intense desert sun. It's also a good idea to have lip balm with SPF to keep your lips moisturized.

Comfortable footwear: Choose sturdy, closed-toe shoes for walking in the desert and exploring the cities. Sandals or flip-flops may not provide enough support during long walks.

Warm clothing: Although the days can be scorching hot in the desert, the nights can get chilly. Pack a lightweight jacket or sweater for the evenings.

Travel essentials: Don't forget to pack a small backpack or day bag for carrying essentials during day trips. Bring a refillable water bottle to stay hydrated and a power bank to charge your electronic devices.

Remember to pack light and only bring essential items to make your journey more comfortable.

Tips for a successful and enjoyable desert tour

Stay hydrated: Drink plenty of water throughout the day to stay hydrated, especially in the desert heat. Your tour operator should provide bottled water, but it's always a good idea to carry your own refillable water bottle.

Protect yourself from the sun: Apply sunscreen regularly, wear a hat, sunglasses, and lightweight, long-sleeved clothing to protect yourself from the sun's harmful rays.

Respect local customs: Morocco is a Muslim country with its own cultural norms and traditions. Respect local customs and dress modestly, especially when visiting religious sites.

Embrace the local cuisine: Moroccan cuisine is known for its rich flavors and unique spices. Don't be afraid to try traditional dishes like tagine, couscous, and Moroccan mint tea.

Be prepared for a rustic experience: Keep in mind that the desert camps may have basic facilities. Embrace the rustic experience and be open to immersing yourself in nature.

Choosing the right tour operator for the Marrakech to Fes Desert Tour

Choosing the right tour operator is crucial to ensuring a memorable and enjoyable desert tour experience. Here are some factors to consider when selecting a tour operator:

Reputation and reviews: Research different tour operators and read reviews from previous travelers. Look for operators with a good reputation and positive feedback.

Experience and expertise: Choose a tour operator with extensive experience in organizing desert tours. They should have knowledgeable guides who can provide insights into the culture and history of the region.

Itinerary and activities: Review the tour itinerary and ensure it includes the destinations and activities you are most interested in. A well-planned itinerary should strike a balance between sightseeing, cultural experiences, and leisure time.

Safety measures: Check if the tour operator prioritizes safety and has measures in place to ensure the well-being of their guests. This includes reliable transportation, trained guides, and emergency protocols.

Flexibility and customization: If you have specific preferences or requirements, choose a tour operator that offers flexibility in customizing the itinerary to suit your needs.

Accommodation options along the way

During your Marrakech to Fes Desert Tour 3 Days, you'll have various accommodation options to choose from. Here are some popular choices:

Riads in Marrakech: Experience the charm of traditional Moroccan riads in Marrakech. These boutique guesthouses offer a peaceful oasis in the heart of the city, with beautiful courtyards, rooftop terraces, and authentic Moroccan decor.

Desert camps: Spend a night in a desert camp for a truly unique experience. These camps are typically located in the Erg Chebbi dunes near Merzouga and offer comfortable tents, traditional meals, and entertainment under the stars.

Hotels in Fes: In Fes, you'll find a range of accommodation options, from luxury hotels to budget-friendly guesthouses. Choose a hotel located within the Medina for easy access to the city's attractions.

Kasbahs and guesthouses: Along the route between Marrakech and Fes, you'll find charming kasbahs and guesthouses that offer a glimpse into traditional Moroccan architecture. These accommodations often feature stunning views and a relaxed atmosphere.

Cultural experiences and attractions during the tour

The Marrakech to Fes Desert Tour offers a wealth of cultural experiences and attractions. Here are some highlights to look forward to:

Berber villages: Visit traditional Berber villages and gain insight into the lifestyle and culture of the indigenous people of Morocco. Explore their homes, interact with locals, and learn about their customs and traditions.

Atlas Mountains: Marvel at the breathtaking beauty of the Atlas Mountains as you drive through winding roads. Stop at scenic viewpoints to capture stunning panoramic photos.

Ait Ben Haddou: Discover the UNESCO World Heritage site of Ait Ben Haddou, a fortified city that has been featured in numerous films and TV shows. Explore the labyrinthine streets and learn about its fascinating history.

Todgha Gorge: Take a leisurely stroll along the Todgha River and marvel at the towering cliffs of the Todgha Gorge. This natural wonder offers a perfect opportunity for stunning photos and a peaceful moment amidst nature.

Medina of Fes: Lose yourself in the labyrinthine streets of the ancient Medina of Fes. Explore the vibrant souks, visit historic landmarks, and soak up the atmosphere of one of the world's oldest and most well-preserved medieval cities.

Conclusion: The Marrakech to Fes Desert Tour - A Memorable Adventure

The Marrakech to Fes Desert Tour is a journey of a lifetime, offering an unforgettable adventure through the stunning landscapes of Morocco. From the bustling streets of Marrakech to the vast Sahara Desert and the historic city of Fes, every moment of this tour is filled with awe-inspiring beauty and cultural richness.

Immerse yourself in the vibrant atmosphere of Marrakech, traverse the Atlas Mountains, ride camels across the desert, and explore the ancient Medina of Fes. Along the way, savor the flavors of Moroccan cuisine, interact with friendly locals, and create memories that will last a lifetime.

Whether you're a nature lover, a history enthusiast, or simply seeking a unique travel experience, the Marrakech to Fes Desert Tour promises to captivate your senses and leave you with a deep appreciation for the beauty and diversity of Morocco. So pack your bags, embark on this incredible journey, and let the magic of the desert unfold before your eyes.

RELATED POSTS:

How to Plan the Perfect Marrakech to Fes Desert Tour in 3 Days

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[suburbanplumbingexperts]

Expert Advice: Maintaining a Reliable Plumbing System throughout the Winter

The Importance of Maintaining a Reliable Plumbing System throughout the Winter

When the temperature drops and winter arrives, it's crucial to ensure that your plumbing system is well-maintained and reliable. Cold weather can put a strain on your pipes, causing them to freeze, burst, or become inefficient. Winterizing your plumbing system and following expert advice will help you avoid costly repairs and inconveniences during the cold months.

Understanding the Risks

Winter brings several risks for your plumbing system, especially if you live in an area with severe cold temperatures. The primary risks include:

Freezing pipes

Burst pipes

Inefficient water heating

Freezing Pipes

When water inside your pipes freezes, it expands, exerting pressure on the pipes. This pressure can lead to cracks or bursts, causing significant damage to your plumbing system and property. Frozen pipes can also disrupt water flow, leaving you without access to water until the pipes thaw.

To prevent freezing pipes, consider the following expert advice:

Insulate exposed pipes: Insulate any pipes that are located in unheated areas such as basements, crawl spaces, or attics. You can use pipe wraps or foam sleeves to provide insulation.

Keep the temperature consistent: Maintain a consistent indoor temperature, even when you're away from home. Lowering the temperature drastically during vacation or extended periods of cold weather increases the risk of frozen pipes.

Open cabinet doors: If you have pipes located under sinks, open the cabinet doors to allow warm air to circulate around them.

Drip faucets: Allowing faucets to drip slightly can relieve pressure in the pipes and help prevent freezing. Moving water is less likely to freeze.

Burst Pipes

Burst pipes are one of the most damaging consequences of freezing. The pressure buildup caused by frozen water can result in pipes bursting along weakened points. A burst pipe can cause extensive water damage to your home, leading to costly repairs and inconvenience.

To minimize the risk of burst pipes during winter, consider these expert tips:

Drain outdoor faucets: Disconnect and drain hoses connected to outdoor faucets. Shut off the water supply to these faucets and allow any remaining water to drain out.

Inspect and seal leaks: Before winter arrives, inspect your plumbing system for any leaks. Addressing leaks promptly and sealing them will help prevent water from freezing in those areas.

Leave cabinet doors open: Similar to preventing freezing pipes, leaving cabinet doors open allows warm air to circulate and prevent pipes from freezing and bursting.

Consider pipe insulation: If you have experienced burst pipes in previous winters, you might want to consider adding insulation sleeves to your vulnerable pipes. This added layer of protection can reduce the risk of freezing and bursting.

Inefficient Water Heating

Cold winter temperatures can affect the efficiency of your water heating system, leading to increased energy bills and inadequate hot water supply. Taking some steps to maintain your water heater properly during the winter months can help ensure its reliability and efficiency.

Here are some expert recommendations:

Check the temperature setting: Ensure that your water heater is set to an appropriate temperature. Lowering the temperature slightly can help reduce energy consumption.

Insulate your water heater: Consider adding insulation blankets to your water heater to prevent heat loss. This can help your system maintain the desired water temperature more effectively.

Flush the tank: Sediment buildup can affect the efficiency of your water heater. Flushing the tank annually can help remove any accumulated sediment and improve its performance.

Have your system inspected: Schedule regular maintenance and inspection of your water heating system. A professional plumber can identify any issues and ensure that your system is operating at its best.

In Conclusion

As winter approaches, it's essential to prepare and maintain your plumbing system to ensure its reliability throughout the cold months. By understanding the risks, taking preventive measures, and following expert advice, you can avoid frozen and burst pipes while maximizing the efficiency of your water heating system. Investing a little time and effort now can save you from significant headaches and expenses in the long run.

[plumrltd]

Essential Tips for Winterizing Your Plumbing System

Introduction: Winter can be a challenging time for your plumbing system. The drop in temperature and harsh weather conditions can lead to frozen pipes, leaks, and other plumbing emergencies in South London. To ensure that your plumbing system remains functional throughout the winter season, it's crucial to take some preventive measures. In this blog post, we will provide you with valuable tips on how to winterize your plumbing system effectively. Whether you're in Wimbledon, Croydon, Mitcham, Wallington, or anywhere else plumbing and heating service  in South London, these tips will help you avoid costly plumbing issues and ensure the smooth operation of your plumbing system.

1. Insulate Exposed Pipes : 

One of the primary concerns during winter is frozen pipes. When water freezes inside the pipes, it expands and can cause them to burst, leading to significant damage. To prevent this, start by insulating any exposed pipes in your home. Insulation sleeves or wrapping made of foam or fiberglass can be easily found at your local hardware store. Focus on pipes in unheated areas like basements, attics, and crawl spaces. Additionally, insulate outdoor faucets and hose bibs using covers specifically designed for this purpose. By insulating your pipes, you create a protective barrier that helps retain heat and prevents freezing.

2. Keep a Consistent Indoor Temperature : 

Maintaining a consistent indoor temperature can go a long way in preventing frozen pipes. Set your thermostat to a temperature that ensures the warmth reaches all areas of your home, including areas where plumbing pipes are located. If you plan to be away for an extended period, avoid turning off the heating entirely. Instead, lower the temperature slightly to save energy while keeping the pipes warm. This simple step can help you avoid frozen pipes and the resulting water damage.

3. Drip Faucets during Freezing Spells : 

During extremely cold spells, allowing faucets to drip can help prevent pipe freezing. Even a small, steady drip can relieve pressure within the pipes and reduce the likelihood of freezing. Open both hot and cold faucets slightly to create a continuous flow of water. While this may seem wasteful, it is a cost-effective measure compared to dealing with the consequences of frozen pipes. Remember to keep cabinets open under sinks to allow warm air to circulate the pipes, further preventing freezing.

4. Locate and Shut Off Outdoor Water Supply: 

Outdoor faucets and pipes are particularly vulnerable to freezing during winter. Locate the shut-off valve for your outdoor water supply and turn it off. Drain any remaining water from the outdoor pipes and faucets to prevent freezing and potential damage. Disconnect and store hoses indoors until spring. Taking these steps will safeguard your outdoor plumbing components and ensure they remain intact for the next season.

5. Contact Emergency Plumbers in Your Area : 

Despite your best efforts, plumbing emergencies can still occur during winter. Knowing the contact details of reputable emergency plumbers in your area is crucial. If you're in Wimbledon, Croydon, Mitcham, Wallington, or anywhere else in South London, make note of reliable professionals such as Emergency Plumbers Wimbledon, Emergency Plumber Croydon, and 24-Hour Plumbers in London. Having their contact information readily available can help you address plumbing issues promptly, minimizing damage and inconvenience.

Conclusion:  Winterizing your plumbing system is essential to avoid costly repairs and damage during the cold months. By following these tips, you can significantly reduce the risk of frozen pipes, leaks, and other plumbing emergencies in South London. Insulating exposed pipes, maintaining a consistent indoor temperature, dripping faucets during freezing spells, shutting off the outdoor water supply, and knowing the contact details of emergency plumbers are all important measures to protect your plumbing system. Prioritize winterizing your plumbing system to ensure a comfortable and hassle-free winter season in Wimbledon, Croydon, Mitcham, Wallington, or anywhere else in South London.

[amane-by-together]

Crème Brûlée || Hanako-kun

genre: lime

pairing: vampire!hanako x female guest!reader

summary: ghost hotel au; [name] accidentally made her lip bleed as the smell reeks through the corridors luring hanako in to her bedroom, maybe hanako doesn't mind having dessert by feeding on her blood on her lip or maybe getting messy with each other.

warning: heated content and biting ;) read it in your own risk

p.s: the title has nothing to do with the oneshot

One evening inside the Ghost Hotel by the guest room, Y/n slipped on to her nightgown and brushed her hair. It was her second night in the hotel since the rain hasn’t stopped yet. She walked over to the window and sighed. ‘When will it stop raining?’ she thought. ‘I can’t continue further if it still rains.’

Y/n chews her bottom lip out of boredom until she tasted something metallic from her tongue. To her surprise, her lip started to bleed as crimson color started to flow a bit, and it started to reek. “Ah, it seems that my lip is bleeding.”

Hanako, on the other hand, came back from eating his dinner. He decided to take a little stroll across the hallway. When he reached further to the guest room, he smelled something coming from one of the rooms.

His breathing became uneven and can hear the pounding of pulses as if he was craving for it. Hanako's cheeks were flushed and was intoxicated by the smell of blood. He couldn't hold back anymore, he immediately walked faster and followed the scent until he realized it came from Y/n's room.

Hanako bursts through the maiden’s room, only to see her face to face in her nightgown and her hair down. The choppy haired vampire was breathing heavily like he just ran in a marathon with no water. “Ah! Hanako-san, I was going to see you, you see-” his eyes landed on her bleeding lip and he could see through her circulation.

“Y/n…” Hanako placed his hands on both of her shoulders as he looked at her as if he was needing her. Her cheeks turned red at his sudden closeness, he was staring at the blood that was on her lip. Hanako bit his lip, just that small drop of blood could make him lose his senses. “Are you alright? Your lip is bleeding.” Hanako says with a concerned tone, his fingertips reaching for her cheek.

“Oh no worries, it doesn’t hurt at all.” Y/n smiles gently but turns her head away slightly because of their closeness which Hanako pouted at. “You can lick off the blood on my lip if you’d like.” she offered without thinking, pointing at her bleeding lip with a close-eyed smile.

Until a mental image of Hanako, holding her chin and gently licking off the blood on her lip, decided to make her regret what she said. Shades of vermillion seeped through her rosy cheeks. “I-I mean!” Y/n swatted her hands to deny all of what she told Hanako. “I-I didn’t mean to say that.”

Hanako smirked, putting an arm above her head to trap her in a kabedon and tilted her chin to look up to the vampire. Y/n can feel her knees weaken to submission. "Perhaps I can have a little taste of my dessert~" he says in a suggestive tone with his leering eyes on her lips. "I have a thing for girls who were soft and sweet under me, and you’re just about right~"

“H-Hanako-san…” Y/n stuttered out, earning a cheeky grin from the male in front of her. Hanako slowly leans in, his cool breath fanning against her lips. She closed her eyes, waiting for his lips to meet hers, but then he stopped midway. "Y-You can have a taste if you really need it—"

"Careful with your words, love~" Hanako puts his lips near her ear and whispered lowly, his gloved hand rubbing her waist. "I might get the wrong idea..."

"If I get to taste that sweet blood on your lips, what if I wanted more?" He asked, pressing his lips against her ear, earning a shiver from [Name]. "Will you let me bite you?"

[Name] nodded, her lips trembling as she softens in front of him. Hanako smiled in satisfaction, putting the tips of his fingers on her blushing face. "I don't mind as long as you're satisfied..." She replied timidly.

"Then..." Hanako removes his hat, placing it on the bedside table and moves in closer to her lips. "May I?"

"You may..."

Hanako captures her soft lips in a swift motion. [Name] was caught off guard, considering that the choppy haired vampire had stolen her first kiss. Her cheeks grew warm and her eyes softens. She then closed her eyes as Hanako tugged her closer, licking the blood off her lips. "Mmm, you taste so sweet..."

[Name] parted her lips automatically, to her surprise Hanako slips in his tongue to make the kiss even heated. She allowed him to explore the insides of her warm mouth. Her hands clumsily removes the cape that is draped around Hanako's shoulders in between kisses. "Tell me when to stop..."

"I don't want to stop..."

His gloved hand slithered down to the bottom of her gown. Hanako puts his hand under to rub her thigh. [Name] could feel herself getting hot all of a sudden. They both pulled away with a string of drool hanging from their tongues.

Hanako cups her left cheek, seeing her flushed face motivated him to keep on going. "Hanako..." [Name] called him with half-lidded eyes, breathing heavily in a hot mess. Hanako was in a daze after he recently licked off the sweet blood off of [Name] and that wasn't enough for him. "Can we move to the bed?" She requested in between pants.

He glances on her bed, a perfect place to spend the night with her and maybe to get things messy with each other for a little while. A smug tugged on Hanako's lips at the idea. "Of course, but isn't that a little sexy?~" He smirked. "I'll oblige~"

The choppy haired boy grabbed her shoulders. Hanako softly pushed [Name] to her bed and landed comfortably on her back. Hanako walked towards [Name], removing his right glove using his teeth and the other using his fingers while looking at her with lechery. He crawled on top of her as he undos the bow around his neck area. "Let's continue~" Hanako declared, his eyes dilating with desire, pinning [Name] down to her bed.

Hanako kisses [Name] again with much more passion as she eagerly returned the kiss, wanting more. His hand trails to untie the ribbon on her nightgown as it loosens to reveal her shoulders and a bit of her cleavage. "I want to bite you..." Hanako mumbles against her lips. "May I?"

"Would it hurt?"

"I'll try to lessen the pain much." Hanako parts away from her lips, his finger hooking down to her sleeves to get more access when he bites her. "You should hold my hand to ease you up..."

[Name] intertwines their fingers and gave it a gentle squeeze. "Hold still, okay?" Hanako lowered his head on the crook of her smooth neck. "I'll just take a small amount."

Hanako bites her neck, slowly sinking his fangs in her skin. [Name] whimpered and writhed in pain under him. It felt like she had two neck piercings at the moment. Hanako started to suck her blood, groaning slightly in satisfaction on how sweet she tasted. "H-Hanako..." [Name] weakly called out, tugging on his clothes. "Nghh..."

Hanako pulled back, seeing the blood trickle from the bite mark. He gently licks the remaining blood while kissing her neck softly to ease her pain. [Name] lets out a shy mewl from her lips when she felt his lips and tongue on her neck. When Hanako was done, he licked the blood on his lips and smirked at [Name]. "You taste so sweet~"

[Name] blushed. Having Hanako to feed on her blood is making her go weak under him. As much as Hanako wanted more blood, he still wants to kiss her lips. "Do you want to continue?" [Name] asked, her voice is sweet and alluring to Hanako's ears. "We have the whole night to ourselves and no one could probably suspect us..."

"I have nothing to do other than having my dessert." Hanako suggestively looks at [Name], emphasizing the word 'dessert' which was obvious that he meant her. "But at the moment,"

"I need you."

Hanako kisses [Name] again, but this time much more needier than before. He slides his knee between her thighs and while rubbing her. He mumbled sweet nothings against her lips. Whimpers and sighs of his name escapes from her throat.

For a better angle, Hanako pulls her up, releasing her wrists as his lips on hers never faltered, only stopping when they needed air. Hanako nibbles on [Name]'s bottom lip for permission, in which she denied by not opening her lips. Hanako smirked against her lips, his hand trailing down to grope her chest. "Ahhn~ Hanako..."

Hanako took his chance to slip his tongue inside her mouth and kisses her deeply, his hands fondling with her chest, loving how she filled with his palms. "Hanako, more..." [Name] says in desperation.

"More of this?~" Hanako tenderly kneads her chest, enjoying [Name]'s flushed expression that drives him crazy. A small amount of blood trickled down from the bite mark on her neck. Hanako leans in, licking off the crimson liquid in a gentle manner. "We wouldn't want that to go to waste~"

“Mmmm…” Hanako kissed roughly as [Name] wrapped her legs around his torso and put her arms on his shoulders. “[Name]… you’re making it harder down there…” he mumbles while his hands continued to knead her chest.

[Name] holds him tight. Hanako turned the kiss even more sloppy. He intertwines their hands and hoists it up to the sides of her head. “Hanako-kun…” she mewled in between kisses. “Haah…”

"You look pretty hot." Hanako chuckled before trailing his lips down to her neck. "You're mine only..."

"H-Hanako~" [Name] gasped out as he kisses his way down to her neck. Hanako gently bites on the sweet spot, bruising it to a red color. "Hanako~Hanako..."

"Louder, sweetheart." Hanako commanded.

"Hanako~" [Name] shyly mewled out. Hanako grins before pulling away from her neck. [Name]'s eyes were beading with tears, she looked like a hot mess along with Hanako. Her nightgown was loose because the choppy haired boy must have pulled out the ribbon of the gown, exposing her top half along with her cleavage.

"You look so hot right now I kinda want to mess you up a little more." Hanako grumbled under his breath, mingling with hers. "But I must suppress myself because if I keep going I wouldn't be able to stop..."

Hanako hugs her by looping his arms around her waist and whispered near her ear. "You said you'll be leaving when the rain stops right?" He slides his hand under her skirt to squeeze her thigh.

"Yeah..."

He nuzzled his face on the crook of her neck, embracing her warmth and intertwining their hands together. "Stay, even if the storm passes..." Hanako mumbled through her skin. "I'll make sure to show you a better time here if you stay with me..."

[Name] had nowhere to go anyways, she ran away from home and relied on her luck to find a place to stay. "Okay, I'll stay with you..." She agreed and then a yawn escapes her lips. "Even if the storm passes."

"Feel tired?" Hanako asked, pulling away to tuck a lock of hair behind her ear. "Looks like we got carried away~" he whistled innocently.

"Yeah..." [Name] puts on the ribbon to tighten up her nightgown. She brushed her hair using her fingers. "We should get off now..."

Hanako stands up as [Name] slips inside the covers, getting ready for bed. "Would you mind staying with me for a while?" [Name] asks, smiling softly at Hanako. "Even if its just for now."

Hanako smiled fondly. "Alright, I'll stay, just let me doze off a lil." He gets inside the blanket with [Name], pulling her in his arms. "Goodnight, my love."

"Goodnight..." [Name] then drifted off to sleep as Hanako was there to watch over her. While he was there, a sudden thought passes through his mind, making him fluster.

“You can lick off the blood on my lip if you’d like.”

Hanako covered his mouth to hide his blush while looking at [Name]. "I swear, I'm getting perverted thoughts because of this." He sighed.

a/n: *cleans my brain with bleach* i don't know what came over me but here we are, a ghost hotel hanako oneshot :') like and reblog if you like this oneshot, they are heavily appreciated~

Part 2

[vodkassassin]

This turned out longer than I intended! @k-l-ng

—

“Where are you going?!” Shang Qinghua demands, voice breaking on the very verge of hysterical.

Liu Qingge pauses in the door. “... Leaving.”

“To where?”

He glares over his shoulder at the An Ding peak lord. “A hunt.”

“No!” Shang Qinghua slams the scrolls in his arms down on the (rarely used) writing desk of Liu Qingge’s (also rarely used) office. His open palms slap loudly against the wood. “Liu-shidi, you can’t! There’s paperwork that you have to fill out for this quarter! Forms I need you to sign!”

Liu Qingge waves a hand dismissively. “Will do them when I get back.” He says.

Shang Qinghua blinks, watching as the taller man once again turns to leave. The An Ding peak lord clenches his jaw and releases a low growl, pushing against the desk. “No!”

A burst of qi enhances the movement, and sends the desk flying across the room to slam into the wall beside the door, barely an inch away from where Liu Qingge is standing. The scrolls and inkwell loll about but come to rest without being much disturbed.

Liu Qingge jerks back. His hand flies to the hilt of his sword, and he whips his head around to scowl incredulously over at his fellow peak lord, whose head is bowed.

“It’ll be too late then, we’ll already be well into the next quarter when you get back. Shidi has to go through the forms now.”

The words come out through gritted teeth. Shang Qinghua, head still bowed and shoulders tense, gripping at his own sleeves as he trembles, sits himself down on the cushion that had once been set before the desk. He lifts his head up, then, to stare at Liu Qingge expectantly, expression dull and flat.

“Shidi has to go through the forms now.” He says again.

“Okay,” Liu Qingge agrees, voice low. He removes his hand off his sword, even though he can still feel the tingling resistance of his fellow peak lord’s qi turning in the air of the confined space of the room.

He reaches out with a foot to prod at the desk that now sits beside him. Nothing happens, so he peers over at the silent Shang Qinghua warily before nudging the furniture a little ways over and sitting down beside it on the hard floor.

Liu Qingge eyes the assortment of scrolls and files with distaste, but he can feel the ceaseless stare of the An Ding peak lord boring holes into his back, so he grabs the first one of the pile and rolls it open.

It takes three hours to get through the whole stack. Shang Qinghua stays for the entire time, not once moving from his cushion, like he thinks that Liu Qingge will give up and leave without finishing the paperwork if he doesn’t stay and watch him to make sure. Which is ridiculous. Liu Qingge would never.

He glances down at the financial statement of the Bai Zhan sect allowance coffers for the last few months and curls his lip as he’s forced to dig around in the papers for the correct corresponding audit report, brush clenched tightly in the white knuckled grip of his other hand.

… Liu Qingge might.

Once he’s finished, he hangs his brush on its hook and glances regretfully at the window. The light of the day is already beginning to dim, giving way to the evening, and the optimal time for setting off on a journey has already passed. He might as well just stay the rest of the night in the sect and leave early the next morning for his planned hunting grounds, at this rate.

The Bai Zhan lord sighs, cracking the knuckles of his hand against his palm, and turns back to look at his uninvited guest. Shang Qinghua seems to have fallen asleep sitting up, somehow, while he was waiting for Liu Qingge to finish. He’s slumped down, head bowed toward the floor in a way that can’t be good for his spine, but nothing a little qi circulation won’t fix.

Liu Qingge climbs up from the floor and rubs the feeling back into his legs. They’re sore, after having been knelt upon for the past three hours without any sort of padding underneath him. Like a cushion. He leaves the desk where it is and crosses the room to nudge Shang Qinghua awake with his foot. He keeps one hand curled loosely round the hilt of his sword, in case the other man decides to blow up at him like he had earlier when Liu Qingge had suggested postponing the paperwork.

Instead, Shang Qinghua goes along with his nudge, falling almost bonelessly back against the cushion. He lifts his head drowsily, and looks up at Liu Qingge with some sort of confusion in his eyes. His gaze is distant, like he’s not quite seeing him yet.

“Did you forget where you are?” Liu Qingge asks coolly.

Shang Qinghua blinks slowly. “... Shidi?” It comes out in a mumble.

“The paperwork is done. Leave.”

“... Mmh….”

Liu Qingge feels his brow tick in irritation. He reaches down and grabs the squirrelly man by the collar of his robes, roughly lifting him up and onto his feet. It’s a harsh but efficient method to wake someone up and have them become fully alert quicker. He uses it on his peak disciples all the time.

Except, Shang Qinghua does not become alert. The moment Liu Qingge releases his collar, the man’s legs buckle beneath him, and the swordmaster is forced to catch him around the waist before he can go sprawling in a heap on the floor. Shang Qinghua’s head falls forward limply, like a doll’s, coming to rest against Liu Qingge’s chest.

It’s in that second that Liu Qingge realizes that something is wrong. Beyond Shang Qinghua having a sudden temper that is incredibly out of character for him, he’s running much too warm. Liu Qingge only wears a modest four layers, but his robes are thickly and tightly woven, purposed for battle and sparring. They’re great for the cold months, as they trap heat in, and work well in the hotter seasons because it takes the sun a bit longer to seep through the weave.

So, Liu Qingge should not be able to feel the heat pulsing from Shang Qinghua’s forehead when the man’s face has only been pressed against his robes for barely a handful of moments.

He fists a hand in the back of Shang Qinghua’s robes and pulls the man back slightly in order to get a look at his face, and curses. Rivers of cold sweat bead down from the An Ding peak lord’s brow, which is creased in pain. His eyes are closed, and from the added weight Liu Qingge is registering, the man might actually have fallen unconscious in his arms.

Liu Qingge glares across the room at the stack of paperwork he’d just finished, as if they are at fault for all his current problems, and then reaches down to scoop up Shang Qinghua’s legs. He hauls the smaller and much lighter cultivator over into his private rooms and lies him out on Liu Qingge’s bed.

Shang Qinghua curls in on himself, a tiny, breathless whimper escaping his mouth as he pants and gasps into the sheets. The cold sweat decorating his face soaks the pillow almost immediately.

Liu Qingge turns on his heel and heads out of the house. He marches down the path until he catches sight of a gaggle of disciples likely wandering from one training ground to another. Or maybe the eating hall, how the hell would Liu Qingge know. What time is it, dinner?

“You!” He calls, and something inside him curls, pleased, at the way all five of them jump at the sound, scrambling to stand at attention the very second they realize it’s him. “One of you go and summon Mu Qingfang. Immediately.”

“Shizun?” One of them asks, confused but nonetheless hurrying to unsheathe his sword and climb upon it before the others have a chance to do so.

Quick wits, that one. Liu Qingge might have to take him out on a hunt sometime. He commits the boy’s face to memory, and turns back toward the house.

“Make it fast,” he throws over his shoulder as he climbs back up the path.

He finds himself standing over Shang Qinghua, staring down at his fellow peak lord as the man lies curled up on his side on top of the covers. Shang Qinghua has his arms wrapped around himself like he’s somehow cold despite the raging fever that’s coursing through his body. Now that Liu Qingge is getting a better look at him, he can see that the man is incredibly pale, paler than can be healthy, and there are smudges beneath his eyes so dark that Liu Qingge isn’t sure how he missed them before. It’s almost as if Shang Qinghua had dipped his finger in soot and drawn them under each eye himself, they’re so distinct.

It makes something uncomfortable twist in Liu Qingge’s stomach. Shang Qinghua looks weak, in this moment, and usually the thought would make Liu Qingge scoff at him, because that is par the course with the An Ding peak lord, but he’s never seen any of his martial family look so… sickly, before.

He’s kneeling stiffly beside the bed when the door is thrown open to admit a frazzled looking Mu Qingfang, who takes one look at them both before marching over and kneeling directly on the bed to hover over Shang Qinghua.

“What happened?” The doctor demands, searching the unconscious and listless peak lord for injuries, his fingers roaming from pulse point to pulse point in an examination of his qi.

“He came to make me do paperwork,” Liu Qingge begins gruffly. “Stayed to make sure I’d do it. I did, but he fell asleep while he was waiting, and when I woke him up…” The swordmaster glares down at his knees, hands clenched in the fabric of his pants.

“What, shixiong?” Mu Qingfang asks, impatient. He’s got his palm pressed over Shang Qinghua’s heart, and the expression on his face isn’t a reassuring one.

“He couldn’t stand,” Liu Qingge grumbles, glare becoming more fierce for all that it doesn’t have a target other than his own hands. “He fainted, so I laid him on my bed and sent a disciple for you.”

Mu Qingfang sits back, both hands now pressed against Shang Qinghua’s chest. The low glow of his qi encircles them as it pours forth and into the An Ding peak lord’s channels.

“Did he seem at all off to you, before that? Was he perhaps acting in ways he normally does not?”

“... Yes.”

Mu Qingfang frowns at him, distracted as he is by his examination of his patient. “That doesn’t really give me any information, shixiong.”

“....” Liu Qingge shifts, like he’s some sort of junior disciple kneeling in punishment for disobedience. It’s what it feels like, almost. “He threw the table at me with his qi.”

The doctor actually pauses. His hands lift off Shang Qinghua as he stares over at Liu Qingge in surprise. The unconscious peak lord groans, and Mu Qingfang quickly returns to channeling him qi, but he still stares at Liu Qingge in shock.

“He… threw furniture at you? Why?”

Liu Qingge clears his throat. He turns his glare back to his knees. “I was leaving, for a hunt.”

“But didn’t you say he had paperwork for you?”

“... Yes.”

Mu Qingfang frowns in confusion. “Then what—” His eyes widen. “Liu-shixiong! You were going to leave without doing it?”

The Bai Zhan lord scowls defensively. “I would have done it when I got back!”

“From what I can recall, it’s almost time for the quarterly reports. If you’d left without doing your share, you would have made Shang Qinghua have to finish it all for you.” Mu Qingfang pins him with a narrow-eyed look. “How irresponsible of you, shixiong, trying to foist your duties off on our already clearly overworked martial brother. No wonder he reacted so violently, especially if…”

The doctor trails off, glancing down at Shang Qinghua as the man shifts under his hands. The An Ding peak lord whines softly into the pillow that’s been soaked in his own sweat, twisting under the covers as if he’s in pain. From how he’s been acting since Liu Qingge woke him up, he… probably is.

“If what?” Liu Qingge demands, rising up part way from where he kneels, eyes locked on the man currently taking up his bed.

But Mu Qingfang’s surged to his feet, distracted now. His patient is waking.

Shang Qinghua blinks up at them with bleary eyes. He only takes the time for a single, confused, wheezing breath before he’s trying to sit up. Both peak lords place a hand on either of his shoulders and guide him back down to the bed. Immediately, the An Ding peak lord looks stricken.

“No, no,” he says, eyes wide and face pale. “No, no, no, no! I need to — I need to go work! I don’t have time to… I—I’m gonna fall behind!”

“Lay down, shixiong,” Mu Qingfang gently insists.

“I’m gonna fall behind,” Shang Qinghua whimpers, tears leaking out of his eyes.

He takes a shuddering breath and brings both hands up, as if he’s contemplating fighting the both of them off, but then he scrubs at his face with them instead and releases another sad, hurt sound that makes Liu Qingge’s stomach tie itself in a knot.

“I’m gonna fall behind,” Shang Qinghua repeats, voice cracking. His eyes are glazed over and tearful.

“Shh, shixiong,” Mu Qingfang soothes, brushing back their martial brother’s sweat-soaked bangs with his hand. “It’s going to be okay.”

Liu Qingge is useless, helping to hold Shang Qinghua down and watching helplessly as the Qian Cao peak lord does his best to comfort him. It doesn't really work, but Mu Qingfang does eventually manage to coax Shang Qinghua back into a fitful sleep.

Liu Qingge crosses his arms over his chest. His hands shake with intensity, and so he clenches them into fists so tight that his knuckles turn a mottled white. He turns to stare at the doctor as the other man finishes tucking the blanket securely around a quietly sniffling Shang Qinghua’s shoulders.

“So?” He demands.

Mu Qingfang is silent for a moment, gazing down at his new patient with an unreadable expression. Slowly, he shakes his head, and Liu Qingge unclenches and clenches his fists as he waits for a response.

Finally, Mu Qingfang sighs and runs a hand through his hair, disrupting its previously neat style. “This should not have happened,” he says quietly. “This should not have been able to happen.”

“What shouldn’t have?” Liu Qingge grits out.

“Any of this!” Mu Qingfang exclaims, and sits back down on the edge of the bed, careful not to disturb its sleeping occupant. “He should not have even gotten to this point! His workload shouldn’t be heavy enough to cause any of this, and yet…”

“It has,” Liu Qingge says, and uncrosses his arms in order to wrap his hands around the hilt of his sword. “He’s doing his own workload, in addition to much of the work of the other peaklords, including…” He struggles not to unsheathe his sword, because the only enemy in this situation is himself. His voice lowers a pitch out of shame. “Including me.”

“And me,” Mu Qingfang is quick to add, looking down at his fitfully slumbering patient with a sorrowful expression on his face. “I cannot deny that I have also pushed some of my own responsibilities onto his shoulders, upon occasion. Alone, it wouldn’t be much, but if I and ten other peak lords are doing it, then…”

“The workload grows exponentially,” Liu Qingge finishes, scowling. He gestures with his chin at the unconscious peak lord in his bed, and says, “What else, then? He’s been shouldering it for decades now. If he was going to break under the strain it would have happened before now.”

Mu Qingfang gives a slow nod, reaching out to press the back of his hand against Shang Qinghua’s forehead to check on his fever. The grimace that decorates his face makes Liu Qingge glare at the floor, especially when the doctor gently grabs Shang Qinghua’s too-thin wrist and once again begins circulating qi through the connection.

“His cultivation level is much too high to allow for any natural sickness. His core would flood his immune system and destroy any disease that attempts to take hold. For him to even get sick in the first place, let alone this terribly — his core would have had to face a tremendous imbalance.”

“A qi deviation?” Liu Qingge pushes off the wall and begins to pace furiously. “Impossible. We’d have noticed.”

Mu Qingfang turns his head away, passing qi into his patient in silence.

Liu Qingge stops, and glares at the man. “Someone would have noticed,” he says tightly.

The doctor doesn’t respond. The tenseness of his shoulders, however, speaks for him.

Liu Qingge turns on his heel and storms out of the house.

[just-my-fandom]

Death Awaits (Vanya Hargreeves x Reader)

Summary; When Vanya Hargreeves wife is put in a coma thanks to Hazel and Cha-Cha, the apocalypse arises. The other Hargreeve siblings must do all they can to stop the apocalypse, starting with making sure Y/N wakes up from her coma.

Request; Umbrella Academy Vanya story- where reader isn’t apart of the 43 children but she has powers, and she is with Vanya when Cha Cha and Hazel attack the manor, and she helps the others fight them off-her powers being able to control earth, and water, and air to where she can like cut off people’s breaths lmao fiesty- but Cha Cha gets a shot at the reader and Vanya has to watch the reader collapse with blood loss? Thanksss

Request 2; I know you said you haven’t watched Season 2 yet (Or even finished Season 1) but AH please write a story with Vanya where the reader somehow finds Vanya after they are thrown into the 1960s and Reader actually lands with Vanya and she’s scared Vanya won’t remember her?

Warning(s); Gunshots, fighting, near death, angst.

A/N; I finally finished the show! I had a lot of fun doing this story. It is EXTREMELY long. Sorry.

Another A/N; Leonard is JUST A FRIEND. Like, reader and Vanyas best friend kinda shit.

Date started; Demember 16, 2020

Date published; December 16, 2020

. . .

“Too high,”

Vanya grunts in slight irritation at your comment. Her hand slides up her violin to fix the miss-pitch of her note, eyes barely glancing at where you sat on her bed in the manor.

Your legs gently swayed, wearing black riding boots- acquaintanced with a checkered shirt you had bought not too long ago with dark jeans. Leaning on your knees, you watch as Vanya repeated her line of notes, smiling when the wrong note is now fixed,

A slight jerk of her hand causes Vanyas note to hit too low, her shoulders dropping in defeat as she huffs a breath, “It’s never right,”

“Not if you give up that easily,” You raise an eyebrow, your wife copying your motion, “Breathe, baby. You’ve got this. There’s no one else in the room but me,”

Vanya smiles, tilting her head down before raising her violin to her shoulder, starting from where she had first messed up.

A muffled gunshot directs your attention to the door, going unheard by your wife due to the music right against her ear, so when she sees your brows pinch and your body move to stand up, she stops to watch, “What is it?”

On cue, two more gunshots ring, louder, Vanya setting her violin down gently enough despite being in a rush, following after you with you already feet ahead,

You skid to a stop at the bottom of the stairway, two masked figures standing back to back with Luther on one side, Diego on the other, and Allison opposite of you,

“Stay back,” You demand to the woman behind you, Vanyas eyes shifting to the back of your head before she steps back, moving to the empty hall feet from her,

You move three steps forward before raising a hand, fingers curling as you watch the earth under you raise, the masked killers looking down when the ground cracks beneath their feet, both pushing away from each other to avoid being dropped into the earths crust, now raising their guns to you,

A gust of wind forces their guns into the air and behind them, free hand raising to throw off their masks, revealing one male, and one female,

Your fingers clench on your left hand to wrap an invisible field around the males neck, his hands instantly raising in reflex in an attempt to pry the false pressure off,

Before the woman could run back for her gun, a bubble of water wraps around her head, and the Hargreeves siblings are forced to watch her hold her breath in a panic,

“What do you want?” You hiss, moving closer to slightly drop the water from her mouth, allowing her to gasp in a choked breath,

“We just want the boy,” Cha-Cha spits, your eyes narrowing- Five. “And we’ll be on our merry way,”

“Well he’s not here,” You flick your hand to where Cha-Cha is thrown back into the wall, turning your attention to the male, Hazel. He has now turned blue due to his circulation for air being cut off, a slight smile in your face.

You drop your hand so Hazel dropped forward with his hands on his knees, gasps wheezed as he coughs and hacks for air. You lift both hands so walls of rocks came from the ground, pinning at his sides so he yelled in pain at the pressure of his body.

Then you feel it. Vanya sees it. They all see it. Your powers screech to a halt when the bullet pierces the front of your shoulder, the bolders dropping to release Hazel to collapse, your eyes widening when you see Cha-Cha lower her used gun.

Diego is first to lunge forward, catching the top half of your body before you could fully collapse, your vision already falling black before Vanya could make it to your side,

“Y/N!” Vanyas voice is high pitched, breathy, in alert, “Oh my God,”

“Get Grace,” Luther demands, jabbing his finger to Allison, who stood in high alert,

“Now!” Diego and Vanya shout, Vanya pulling off her button up so she was left in her sweater, pressing the button up to where your white and black shirt was already stained dark red,

Vanya forces herself to look up to your face, eyes shut and skin pale, Diego’s finger pressing to your neck in search for a pulse,

“We can’t wait for Grace,” He hisses, moving to lift you off the debris littered floor, Vanya following, staring at the blood that stained the ends of her sleeves,

She’s quick to follow after her brother, the robot she called her mother calmly waving Diego into the medical room that had been used too many times, Diego lowering your body into the table so Grace cut the front of your shirt, revealing the bullet wound that Vanya forced herself to look away from,

“Pogo,” Grace calls, softly, pulling on gloves as she glanced to the ape, “Please escort the children out,”

“Wait,” Vanya pleas, brows pinched as she steps up to the table, but Diego is swift to catch her at her front, leading her backwards to the door Luther and Allison stood, “I need to be with her,”

“Grace has excellent medical experience. Miss Y/N is in great hands,” Pogo reassures, Vanyas eyes snapping up to your face, before she allows the door to shut, her chest tight with fear.

. . .

“I always knew your family having powers was weird,” Leonard lowers his steaming cup from his lips, frowning, “But now it’s just scary,”

“I know,” Vanya murmurs, stirring her cup mindlessly, “Y/N was just trying to protect my family,”

“How-,” Leonard clears his throat, “How is she? By the way,”

“She’s resting. At home. She hasn’t woken up yet,” Vanya shuts her eyes, pressing her hands to her eyelids, “My tryouts for the front chair is this afternoon. I don’t know if I can do it,”

“Dont do that,” Leonard shakes his head, Vanya lowering her hands to pinch her brows, “Dont put yourself down because Y/N isn’t physically here. Just,” Leonard pauses, hand waving in thought, “Is there anything that Y/Ns ever said that just- stuck to you?”

“Breathe, baby. You’ve got this. There’s no one else in the room but me,”

Vanya smiles, nodding, slowly, “Yeah. Just this one thing. It’s always been a constant reminder she gives me when I’m rehearsing. No one else but her is in the room. Even when someone else really is in the room,”

“See?” Leonard chuckles, sipping the last bit of his coffee, “Y/N gives off that effect to make you believe what she says. She knows it’s a sense of comfort for you,”

“She’s always been good at that,” Vanya murmurs, watching Leonard set down his mug and nudge her arm, standing up,

“C’mon. I’ll walk you home. We can get your apartment nice and cozy for when Y/N gets back,”

. . .

“What is your name again?”

Vanya regrets it. She regrets everything. Coming to this audition, letting you nearly give your life for her family. She regrets it.

“Vanya,” She cant stop how low her voice is, but the conductors booming, louder, please, demands her to state, “Vanya Hargreeves,” Four notes higher.

“Right,” The conductor clicks his tongue, looking up at Vanya on the stage which makes her want to run off, “Well?”

“Breathe, baby,” Vanya nearly hears you say, as she lifts her violin to her shoulder, “You’ve got this,” She raises her bow, “There’s no one else in the room but me,” And plays,

She finishes her last note with a pause, terrified of opening her eyes, but when she does and sees the conductor staring at her in awe, she can’t help the breath she lets out, head tilting back with a smile of relief.

She had gotten the front chair.

. . .

A short gasp enters your lips. Whining out in pain, you force your head to the side. Home. How did you get here? The academy-

You sit up, shortly, crying out at the sting of pain it caused to your shoulder, eyes pinching shut before you raise your head, looking around.

“Three new voice messages,” The voicebox of your phone startles you to cover your face, heaving out an exhausted breath, “Hey, Y/N. Just checking on you in case you wake up and I’m not home,” Vanyas voice speaks, your head raising. “I’m currently at rehearsal, on March 29th, about four in the afternoon. I love you. Call the Academy or the theater if I’m not home,”

“Y/N, it’s Allison. I haven’t heard from you, not sure if you had woken up. But if you have, please call me back. Vanyas went missing. I think she’s with Leonard,”

“Leonard?” You push off the bed, stumbling into the kitchen. You lean against the wall beside the phone, running a hand down your face. Vanyas keys were gone. As was her violin,

“Hey, Y/N?” Diego’s voice comes next, “You remember that apocalypse? Yeah. Vanyas the cause. Get your shit together and meet us at the theater the night of the concert. We need you,”

Your eyes widen, flickering around for your shoes before you grab your keys, moving out the door with a shaky hand on the door, “That’s tonight,”

. . .

“What the hells going on?” Your voice startles four of the Hargreeve siblings to turn around, all watching you rub your patched shoulder,

“Y/N!” Klaus cheers, arms up, “Youre awake!”

“Vanya has powers,” Luther hisses, your eyes flicking to him, “She’s out of control, starting with slicing Allison’s neck,” He jabs a finger to said woman, where you see a patch at her neck,

“Why are we here?” You exhale, Diego stepping up,

“The apocalypse starts today. And you had hell of fucking timing waking up. You’re going to be our distraction,”

“Distraction, how?” You demand, Allison holding up her finger before jotting down words on her notepad,

She’s been scared you wouldn’t wake up. She may calm if she sees you.

“What triggered them?”

“Leonard?” Diego questions, “Yeah. He manipulated her for her powers. Good thing he’s dead now, huh?”

“Leonard’s dead?” You hiss, Luther shaking his head at you,

“We don’t have time. You need to go. Vanya needs to see you,”

You nod, shaking your arms out and wincing at the pull it gave your shoulder, moving forward to the entrance to the audience.

Your footsteps remain slow as you move down the walkway, eyes firm on Vanyas seated figure at the front of the stage. Her eyes remained a bright blue- nearly white, on her paper.

Her eyes flick up at the sight of movement, meeting your own so you stop your footsteps, smiling tearfully at where she sat. Her lips pull into her own smile, pausing slightly,

“There’s no one else in the room but me,”

Her hand is quick to catch up to her song, your feet moving back down the walkway, screeching to another halt when her head snaps to the side, in time for Diego and Luther to rush out onto the stage,

You watch in alarm as she stands up, a wave of blue thrown off her bow so Diego and Luther are knocked off the stage, the audience around you shrieking in fear and running off in large groups,

“Vanya!” You call, over the panicked shouts of the men and women around you, moving up to the stage, “Baby! I’m here!”

Her glowing eyes force themselves to look down at you, waving her bow so the musicians behind her sat back down, her jaw clenching,

“Y/N, get down!” A rough tug on your injured arm causes you to cry out, Vanyas eyes opening to see Diego pull you behind a row of seats, your back falling against his chest with a short gasp, your hand pressing to your shoulder,

“I need to get to her!” You heave, looking across the walkway to Luther and Allison, “She’ll listen to me!”

Allison shakes her head, gesturing to her own arm. “Screw the gunshot wound,” You hiss, Diego’s attempt to catch your arm when you stand up failing, where you stand in the middle of the walkway,

Luther and his siblings are quick to surround you, “Here’s how it goes!” Luther starts, “We go at her from all angles,”

“I call front,” You state, moving around him to jump onto the stage, stopping feet from your wife, “Vanya!” You plea, hand up as she continued to play, her suit now white, “Baby- it’s me! I’m okay!”

Her eyes don’t leave yours as you take another step forward, before she raises her bow, your body quick to drop before the wave of blue could hit you, the four boys behind you lifted into the air, her power quick to suck the life from their bodies,

You look up in a panic, pushing to stand up in a rush, crying out when a gunshot rings through, dropping the four brothers to the ground. Your arms jolt out to catch Vanyas fallen figure, your shoulder screaming in pain as you lower yourself to your knees, Vanyas head rested in your lap,

“Vanya!” You cry, hand running down her hair as your free pressed to her neck, “No! No, baby-,”

Your sob cuts short when feeling her pulse and no blood, looking up at Allison behind you with a false gun in her hand. “You didn’t shoot her,” You choke out, looking back down to the woman in your hands, “Oh, my god,”

You lean down, lips pressing to Vanyas forehead, sniffling as you clutched her hand in yours on her chest, “I’ve got you, sweetheart. You’re okay,”

“We did it,” Luther heaves, Klaus moving to point at the window in the ceiling,

“Then what’s with the giant moon rock flying towards earth?”

You look up, eyes blurred with tears, sniffling as you look back down to your wife, fingers tucking her hair away from her eyes.

“So much for saving the world,” Klaus mumbles, your head leaning against Vanyas as your eyes shut, hiccuping.

“This doesn’t have to be the end,” Five rushes, moving next to you and Allison knelt by you, “I have a way out of here. I just need you to trust me,”

“Five,” You call, now looking at him, “I trust you,”

You feel your body lift off the stage, Vanyas body leaving your arms so you flailed in mid air, yelping when you are dropped onto the concrete just seconds later

Dallas, Texas, 1963

“Shit,” You whisper, looking up at where the blue vortex vanished, “Shit. Shit! Vanya!”

“Miss?” You look over, to a blonde woman standing with her son, panic on her face, “I have a woman saying her names Vanya. Might she be who you’re looking for?”

“Oh my gosh,” You mutter, nodding as you push off the floor and follow her to her car, where you see two bystanders helping Vanya off the floor, “Hey! Vanya, are you okay?”

“I think so,” She murmurs, taking your arms as she stands, her eyes flicking to your patched chest, “What happened to you?”

“You don’t remember?” You whisper, brows furrowed, your hand sliding to her cheek. You turn to face the woman from before, “Ma’am, do you have somewhere we can go? She needs to be checked up on,”

“Did I cause it?” The woman, Sissy, panics, moving up to you, “I didn’t see her, I swear,”

“It’s okay,” You breathe, and look back to Vanya, your eyes teary, “You’re okay,”

She nods, warily, letting Sissy move you to her car.

. . .

“I’m sorry, I still don’t understand,” Vanya exhales, leaning forward on the couch you both sat on in Sissy’s house, “We’re married?”

“Yes,” You nod, licking your lips in fear, “Is that okay? We- we don’t have to,” You pull your hand from where you reached for her own, Vanya shaking her head as she takes your hand, tightly,

“No- I mean- yes, it’s okay,” She smiles, your own lips pulling upwards, tiredly. You lean forward, allowing your forehead to knock hers.

“You two look like you’ve had a long day,” Sissy speaks up, handing you a cup of (favorite/warm/drink), “I only have one guest bedroom,”

“I can take the couch,” You heave, reassuringly, Vanyas brows pinching as she tugs at your hand,

“We can share, Y/N,”

“You barely remember me,” You murmur, clenching your jaw and laughing, tearily, “Why would you want to sleep with a woman who you don’t know?”

“I may not know you but I trust you,” Vanya states, raising your hand and hers to show the rings you had, “You say we’re married. I will keep trying to regain my memories as long as I can to remember our wedding day,”

Your eyes flick up to hers, smiling, weakly, with a nod, sniffling as tears began to refill your eyes. Your hand raises to wipes your cheek, Vanyas smile dropping in worry as her hand touches your jaw, directing your attention to her, “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” You whisper, shaking your head, “It’s just been a very long day,”

You suck in a deep breath and sniff, looking up at Sissy who smiled, sympathetically, “Do you kind if I borrow your shower? And maybe some help rewrapping this?” You lift your bandaged shoulder, Vanyas hand falling from your face to her lap as Sissy nods, gesturing you to follow her down the hall.

You run a hand through your damp hair, silently shutting the bedroom door behind you,

Your eyes shift to Vanya on the bed, resting in a pair of Sissy’s clothing, same as you, “Are you sure you’re okay with this?” You move to the bed, Vanya looking up at you- finally seeing the exhaustion in your eyes. What had happened to you today?

“Of course,” Your wife murmurs, extending her hand for you to take so you slide underneath the covers,

“I just don’t want you to be uncomfortable,” You whisper, now on your side to face her, “You don’t even know me,”

“But I feel like I do,” Vanya corrects, watching as the tear in your eye slipped from the corner and down your nose, “I’m trying to understand, but I can’t do that without you,”

Your lips purse to stop the sob in your throat, hand raising to cover your pinched eyes. “Hey,” Vanya panics, shaking her head as she slides her hand to the back of your head, guiding you to rest against her chest, “No no, please don’t cry. I’m sorry,”

You let your arm slide to her backside, tightly, hiccuping against the skin of her collarbone, “No, I’m sorry. I’m so emotional and tired, and I want things to go back to normal,”

“I know,” Vanya brushes her lips against your hair, her free hand dragging her nails soothingly across your upper back, “We don’t have to talk about it anymore. What do you want me to do?”

A pause, “Just hold me,” You whisper, leaning your head back to look at her, “Please,”

Vanya nods, quickly, her eyes flicking to your lips before she looks back up to your eyes, your body pushing forward to force your lips against hers.

Vanya exhales sharply against your mouth, her fingers tightening in your hair as you peck her lips, once, twice, barely pulling away so you still felt her breath on your skin,

“I love you, Vanya. I wish I could’ve helped you,”

Vanyas brows pinch, wanting to question what you had meant, but she only finds herself pulling you back in, allowing her lips to recollide with your own, slow against the darkness of the bedroom.

[cognacdelights]

because she’s casual [5]

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she’s casual by the hunna

summary: armed with a bottle of jack daniels, indie and jj embark on a drunken midnight adventure. after settling in the local park, they can’t resist each other’s allure any longer. 

warnings: sexual content. public sex. swearing. 

A thick, star-sprinkled blanket of obsidian had consumed the humid heavens above as the imperious, incandescent gaze of July’s Buck Moon bore down on the unmarked dirt roads of The Cut. The air was oppressive and muggy as a tepid, unrelenting breeze circulated throughout the silt-covered back roads, offering little to no relief against the suffocating swelter. A natural, dulcet melody of placid, cadenced waves slapping against the jagged, craggy shoreline and the occasional, gentle swooshing of the leaves rustling against one another filled the desolate streets - drowning out the solemn, sombre silence of the witching hours.

Leisurely, she placed one cautious, Converse-clad foot in front of the other as she walked atop the rugged, uneven stones of the crumbling wall. The dainty, lavender-painted fingertips of her right hand had laced themselves securely with his in an attempt to steady her stumbling, tipsy silhouette, as her left hand remained coiled firmly around the elongated neck of the Jack Daniels bottle. An intense, concentrated expression contorted the doll-like features of her caramel complexion - forcing her full, neatly shaped eyebrows to meet as they furrowed together and the tip of her whiskey-soaked tongue to peek through the gloss-coated confines of her peach-coloured lips.

Without so much as a sliver of a warning, she halted - taking several drawn-out seconds to centre her precariously tipsy balance. The loose, nonchalant grip she held around his meaty, ring-clad fingers tightened as she brought the cool rim of the bottle to her nude-painted lips, taking a long, generous swig. An invigorating, burning sensation grazed against the half-healed scratches as the honey-coloured liquor trickled carelessly down her throat - compelling the corners of her plump, luscious lips upwards into a wicked smile before she persistently proceeded in her intoxicated obstacle course.

Several inebriated stumbles later, the youthful Routledge girl had reached the abrupt edge of the dishevelled dry stone wall. She tentatively manoeuvred her petite frame around the single, pointed stone to face the winding, sand-coated road, her bright, mahogany doe eyes watching the shaggy-haired blonde intently as his boot-clad feet came to a casual stop. An emphatic half-giggle and half-squeal erupted from the depths of her whiskey-drowned throat as she leapt from the small height of the jagged dry stone wall - the golden, saccharine liquor spilling from the cap-less bottle as she retreated to the safe haven of the pothole-riddled tarmac, simultaneously dampening the tangled ends of her chestnut tresses and drenching the scandalously thin fabric of her low-cut dress in the process.

“Hey, hey, quiet, pretty girl,” his soothing, husky tone hushed her - the rough, calloused pad of his thumb tenderly caressing circles against the delicate skin of her palm, “we don’t want the neighbours waking up and calling the cops.” Her glazed-over, umber eyes peered upwards into his - the luminous, amber speckles glimmering celestially under the silver light of the full moon - as she guided his comforting, burly arm around her petite, flannel-covered shoulders. His thin, rose-tinted lips placed a soft, adoring peck against her temple as they continued their aimless wandering of the dark, vacant streets.

Reaching the dry, untamed grasslands of the children’s playground, they settled themselves on the rotted, wooden bench by the rusted swing set frame. His shirt-clad back pressed comfortably against the cool, pine wood of the seat as the doe-eyed, cinnamon-haired vixen perched herself atop his lap without any indication of hesitation - her exposed, sun-kissed legs draping themselves sideways across his muscular thighs. His brawny, possessive arm rested nonchalantly against the defined concave of her waistline as his gentle, unclipped fingertips absent-mindedly toyed with the revealing hemline of her sable-coloured dress.

Once again, she brought the frigid rim of the half-consumed liquor bottle to her gloss-coated lips, taking several lavish gulps of the sweet, fruit-infused whiskey. As she revelled in the exhilarating, fiery tingle that laced the lining of her throat, she tilted the square bottle towards him - encouraging him to take a drink. His large, paw-like palm grasped the body of bottle, bringing the gloss-stained, glass lips to his own. Lackadaisically, he chugged several mouthfuls of the sweet, syrup-like liquor, unphased by the warm, hearty buzz occupying his chest in it’s wake. Her adoring, mocha eyes watched him intently - shamelessly admiring the faint, whiskey-drenched lines of stubble that graced his upper lip and jawline, and the cadenced bobbing of his pronounced Adam’s Apple as he swallowed the infamous alcohol with ease.

It was only a mere few seconds later that his clumsy, yearning hand delved into the vast, junk-littered expanse of his cargo shorts pocket. Retrieving the crumpled, almost empty packet of cigarettes and engraved Zippo lighter, he retreated from the cloth confines. Effortlessly, he flicked the crinkled cardboard packaging open with his thumb, pulling the penultimate nicotine stick from the metallic foil and gently placing it between his chapped, coral-tinted lips. His thumb grazed the delicate clip of the personalised Zippo lighter, igniting the meager flame; he brought the floundering, wavering glint to the tobacco shreds, taking a deep inhale of the noxious, toxic fumes to ensure it was well and truly lit. She continued to observe his every move attentively, admiration evident within the luminous, golden speckles of her sorrel orbs.

Eventually, the audacious, tenacious virago grew tired of his lack of attention as he savoured every last nicotine-laced drag of his cigarette, grasping the half-smoked butt between her lilac-painted fingertips and dabbing the burning embers against rotting pine wood of the bench. Positive that the remaining shreds of tobacco were no longer ablaze, she carelessly discarded the whiskey-soaked butt within the over-grown blades of grass. JJ opened his mouth almost instantly, poised and ready to both protest against and question her dauntless, brazen actions - but before he could string his reprimanding words together, her velvet, taupe-toned lips pressed against his.

Cupping her blush-tinted cheek with his clammy, bear-like palm, their amorous embrace gradually transitioned from a passionately sweet kiss to an ardent, fervid affair. His pointed, pearly teeth bit down on the lipstick-coated flesh of her bottom lip, tugging roughly on the delicate, sensitive skin. A salacious, yearning whine escaped from the very core of her strained vocal chords - offering him the perfect opportunity to slide his whiskey-soaked tongue into her mouth. She welcomed his assertive, dominant tongue with open arms, allowing him to lustfully caress her tongue with his own. Her dainty, periwinkle fingertips latched onto the stained, off-white cotton of his long-sleeved t-shirt, her voluminous, braless chest pressing against the chiselled muscles of his abdomen - the titanium balls of her nipple piercings protruding through the thin, raven fabric.

The sun-drenched, love-marked skin of her exposed thighs tingled under the searing touch of his devilish, meandering hands - the calloused, unclipped tips of his ring-clad fingers encroaching on the scandalously short hemline of her tight, figure-hugging dress. He gave the hickey-littered, caramel plains of her thighs a fervent, zealous squeeze before continuing their ascent towards the patterned, crimson lace of her g-string thong. His sumptuous, cavalier attempt to trace a teasing trail along her damp, hankering folds was thwarted by the tight, commanding grip of her dainty palms around his watch-adorning wrist. A smug, sultry smirk curved the corners of her swollen, glacé lips upwards as she retreated from their intense, sensuous embrace, “no, tonight it’s my turn to make you cum.”

“That’s fine by me, babe,” his masterful tongue swiped the whiskey-sodden trace of her impassioned lips from his own, as his low, husky tone rasped a response. His dark, cobalt eyes cast over with lust and desire, watching intently as her petite, curvaceous figure leisurely slinked between his parted legs, settling on her knees, on the unkempt, grass plains of the park. An loud, involuntary moan slipped between his thin, chapped lips - a subconscious reaction to the ungodly, sinful sight of the umber-eyed, caramel-complexioned beauty in such a devilish position.

She fumbled with the stiff, metal clasp of his belt in her drunken, inebriated state, having to focus her whole, undivided attention on the trivial task at hand as she worked the ripped and tattered leather free. The tip of her spirit-laced tongue peeked timidly through the confines of her swollen, nude-toned lips as she tugged hastily at the tense, rigid zipper. Eagerly pushing the several layers of clothing out of her way, her clouded, mahogany eyes peered upwards at the anticipation-filled blonde, seeking his permission. He sent her a craving, impatient nod the instant his dark, indigo eyes met with hers.

Her dainty palm snaked itself around the flaccid base of dick, the mere contact alone sending an invigorating rush of blood throughout his member. She began to sensually caress the entirety of his length with gentle, leisurely strokes - however, her pace gradually began to increase as deep, husky grunts of encouragement resonated from the depths of his throat. An ardent flush of heat consumed her intimate area upon hearing the low, pleasure-filled noises, the intricately embroidered material of her thong dampening with each salacious groan.

Her taunting tongue tantalised the very tip of his cock, circling the head in painfully languid motions and placing soft, delicate kisses against the sensitive skin. She proceeded to take the tip into her mouth, continuing to swirl her salacious, teasing tongue around the head as she sensuously sucked on the hypersensitive fragment of his length - impishly neglecting the further expanse of his inches. His meaty, paw-like hands grasped the eroded edge of the bench with a monstrously tight grip - the rough, scarred skin of knuckles turning a sickly shade of alabaster out of pure frustration. A raspy, petulant growl erupted from the deep, yearning caverns of his stomach, his tone authoritative and demanding, “Indie.”

Spurred on by his deep, domineering voice, she took as much of his poised, hard length into her mouth as she could, her warm, sensual palms working the remaining few inches of his bulging span. A barrage of emphatic, enraptured moans filled the otherwise eery silence of the unkempt, neglected grassland as she continued her salacious assault on his hardened dick - dauntlessly daring to take more of his poised, pulsing cock into her mouth with each rhythmic, fast-paced bob of her head. He threw his head back in pure, elated ecstasy, his shaggy, tousled locks tickling against the corroded, pine back rest.

Thrusting his hips upwards in a subconscious, euphoric daze, he vigorously forced the entirety of his solid, throbbing length into her unsuspecting mouth, the pre-cum-coated tip pushing it’s way into the tight, restricted dimensions of her throat. Unprepared and unexpected, a loud, dissatisfied groan surpassed her swollen, luscious lips. He, however, mistook her throaty vocals as a sinful sign of pleasure - tangling his large, ring-clad fingers within the matted length of her cascading, cinnamon waves as he applied a gentle pressure against the nape of her neck, compelling her bobbing head to meet with his rapid, rigorous bucks. Her throat soon relaxed it’s whiskey-drowned muscles as she leisurely eased into the comfortable synchronisation of the rhythm, a tidal wave of adrenaline surging through her veins from the ungodly, sensuous experience.

“That’s it, pretty girl,” his assertive, commanding tone praised her - the telltale, familiar surge of euphoria building within the depths of his stomach, “keep going.” As she persisted in taking the entire span of his hardened, bulging length into her mouth, an inharmonious limerick of profanities circulated the open, desolate area - the eager frustrations of his much-anticipated release gradually consuming him. As the elated surge of delirium proceeded to build within him, one final, zealous thrust into the relaxed depths of her throat tipped him over the metaphorical edge. “Fucking hell, Indie,” his deep, enamored tone rasped as the thick, viscous juices of his cum dripping down her throat, his cadenced thrusts slowing with each lackluster buck of his hips.

Retrieving his now flaccid, saliva-soaked length from between her gloss-coated lips, he tucked himself back into the fabric confines of his boxers. Forcing the stiff, uncooperative zip back up, he spoke again, “that dirty little mouth of yours is going to be the fucking death of me, Indie Routledge.” A complacent, pleased with herself smirk plastered itself across the very foundations of her prominent, doll-like features of her sun-kissed, caramel complexion, satisfied with his reaction. The rough pad of his ring-adorning thumb tenderly swiped across the corner of her mouth - ridding her angelic face of any evidence of their sensuously sinful tryst before placing a soft, loving peck against her full, luscious lips.

A mischievous glint occupied the glistening, amber speckles of her eyes as her dark, coffee-coloured orbs peered upwards into his, “can we stop at Russo’s on our way home and get some twinkies?” It was the most stereotypical, unapologetically Indie thing that the breath-taking brunette had ever uttered; despite being enthralled in her bid to embrace all things devilish, illicit and beyond her years, she still remained angelic, innocently niave and pleased by the simplest of things at heart.

“If that’s what you want, pretty girl.”

Taglist: @bellaguarneri @drewsephsmiles @spilledtee @outrbanks @ilovejjmaybank @jjtheangel @obxlife @tangledinsparkles @jayjaymaebank @linctaviaxbellarke @rafecamerondeservesbetter @belledutchess @tembo-ndoto @girlsru1eboysdroo1 @secretmoonphantom @lolitstiana @blindedbyyourgrace17 @rudyypankow @milamaybank @sunwardsss

[heartsofbeskar]

from the ashes

chapter 10

din djarin x fem!oc

WARNINGS: brief mention of sexual activities, graphic descriptions of injury/blood

WORDS: 5.4K

EXCERPT: The corridor, dark just a few feet ahead of them, felt like the mouth of some monster, and with each step Ten took it got closer to swallowing her whole.

Lights followed their movement, creating a bubble of illumination permanently around them. The skirt of her dress trailed gently behind her in the absence of wind, her legs occasionally breaking through the carefully placed slits. Her skin was crawling.

A/N: phew this was a bit of a beast of a chapter both in length (i think my longest chapter for this fic??) and in structure, as i was playing around with timeline inspired by bae @asta-lily (srsly check her out) — hope yall like it!!

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The cold water beat down against her bare skin, goosebumps raising across the surface. Ten sighed, leaning back against the metal wall, running her hands through her hair, pulling it.

She stood directly under the stream of water, tilting back so it washed over her face, shutting her eyes. The ghost of Mando’s fingers lingered on her skin, in her— everywhere. His voice, the words he’d said to her, the noises he’d made, echoed in her head.

I want to see you come, Ten.

Maker, she liked how her name sounded from his mouth.

Pushing forward, she braced her hands on the wall in front of her, watching the droplets race down her arms, over the scars, over her tattoo. Despite the temperature of the water, warmth began to spread from her palms, energy concentrating there.

Ten hold a palm out, facing towards the ceiling. Water dripped from her fingers, but as it began to fall on its expected trajectory, towards the floor, it curved abnormally. Slowly, drop by drop, a pool of water formed in her outstretched palm. She breathed out harshly, willing it to collect together, but she could tell she was losing her grasp on it.

The feel of cold beskar under her fingertips. A rough and modulated voice close by her ear. Heavy limbs on hers, holding her to the floor, hands moving to—

The water moved together fluidly, quickly, forming a perfect sphere, hovering just an inch above her hand. It spun slowly there, the water circulating inside the shape. The refresher light refracted through it, creating patterns on the metal walls.

“Shit.”

When she finally emerged from the refresher, Mando was gone, any evidence of their encounter on the floor of the ship effectively removed. Though Ten was sure that area would burn her feet if she walked over it.

The door to the ship’s sole cabin and sleeping space slid open with a gentle hiss, lights in the small room powering up automatically in response to her movement.

She stilled when she saw the large Mandalorian occupying the cot. He was propped against the wall, halfway to laying down, arms crossed over his chest. His vambraces sat on the floor next to him, but otherwise he hadn’t removed any armour. His chest rose gently and steadily.

He was asleep, she realized with a start.

Slowly, she padded over, feet silent as she came to stand beside the cot. She knelt down, pressing onto the thin mattress with one hand, testing. When he didn’t make any indications of waking, Ten eased the rest of her body onto the mattress as well.

Her muscles cried with relief as she sunk as far as she could into the flimsy material — still, it was better than the hammocks she was used to. Turning her back to Mando, she folded her hands under her head, closing her eyes.

A moment later, she felt a rustling beside her. Looking over, Mando was stirring, uncrossing his arms with a low groan. When he made to swing a leg off of the cot, Ten grabbed his thigh, lightly. The contact sent jolts down her arm.

“I can—” he started to protest, but she cut him off.

“Just shut up and go back to sleep.”

His body sagged back against the wall, arms going back across his chest. Ten turned away from him again. The low tone of his voice cut the silence one more time.

“I’m not going to cuddle you.”

“Good.”

—

There was a short rush of air as the doors to the elevator closed, blue lights embedded in the floor illuminating the space from below.

Ten eyed the human men in front of her warily, their backs facing her, suits crisp and clean, their hairlines perfectly manicured on their necks. They began the smooth descent down, beneath the surface.

“Fiddle with the necklace if you can hear me.”

Mando’s voice was intimately nestled in her ear, the piece of metal small enough to be tucked into the cavity. Casually, she brought her hand up, fingering the matching metallic pendant that hung low, between the exposed valley of her breasts. A fashion statement, to anyone looking.

“Good. You should be there soon. I’ve still got your position on the scanner.”

She wouldn’t admit it, but a relief filtered through her body hearing it.

The elevator slowed, the lights dimming as they approached their stop. With a soft hiss, the doors opened. A long corridor laid beyond.

“Good luck, Ten.”

—

Coruscant rapidly filled the viewport, a myriad of lights and movement spread across the planet. The sight of so many people set Ten’s teeth on edge. It had been years since she’d been here, for good reason.

The man beside her sat deadly still, as he usually did, and only the clenching of his hand where it sat atop his thigh gave away any indication of how he felt.

The tension that had saturated the air of the ship for the majority of the journey seemed to reach its crescendo as Ten brought the ship in to land on the planet, in the same docking station Tosche had used months prior.

Largely they’d avoided each other for the remainder of the flight from Nevarro, no easy feat on a ship that small. A brush of shoulders passing through the cockpit doors, a barely there touch when one of them laid in the shared cot for a rest. It felt like a string being pulled impossibly taut, each of them silently daring the other to speak about what had happened between them.

As it turned out, they were both stubborn as banthas.

It wasn’t until Mando was on the verge of lowering the ramp that Ten snapped the string.

—

The corridor, dark just a few feet ahead of them, felt like the mouth of some monster, and with each step Ten took it got closer to swallowing her whole.

Lights followed their movement, creating a bubble of illumination permanently around them. The skirt of her dress trailed gently behind her in the absence of wind, her legs occasionally breaking through the carefully placed slits. Her skin was crawling.

“As I’m sure you can see, we take the utmost care to provide top security here,” one of the men boasted. Ten pictured how satisfying it would be to break his nose.

Instead, she said, “Did you build this place or find it?”

As the man prattled on about specifics of construction, Ten flexed her forearm, cupping her hand into her sleeve. The sound of the chip hitting the floor was drowned out by his voice.

Moments later, Mando’s voice. “It’s working. I’ve got the readings coming in. Looks like you’re in a tunnel about a hundred feet long connecting to the entrance.”

She couldn’t reply without lifting the necklace to her mouth, very effectively fucking them over, but she noted his words, drawing her own mental map of where she was headed.

“Now, for what you’re really here for,” the man who had been babbling on sent her what was no doubt supposed to be a flirty smirk. Nose definitely wouldn’t be enough, she had to imagine breaking the jaw too. He knelt over slightly, presenting his eye to a small scanner set into the wall at the end of the corridor.

Smoothly, they slid open.

—

Her hand grasped tightly onto his wrist. He turned to look at her, and Ten faltered for a moment under the weight of his gaze. She swallowed, shaking her head.

“I just need to make sure you’re not going to treat me any differently on this job. I can handle myself, Mandalorian.”

He peered down at her, still saying nothing. Maker, she wished he would say something — anything. The air felt like it had to be forced out of her lungs, like he had stolen it from her somehow, without even touching her skin.

Finally, he spoke. “And why would I treat you differently?”

Ten scoffed. “Don’t act dense, I know you’re smarter than that. You’re not the first person I’ve worked with that I’ve gotten … involved with at some point. Don’t make it complicated.”

“Oh, is that what you’re calling it? Getting involved?” He took a half step closer, broad frame filling her vision. She didn’t miss the teasing edge of his voice. “Any of those people you got involved with make you come like that on the floor of your ship?”

Heat flushed up her body, lighting up all her nerves along the way. Ten beat it down, doing her best to keep her face impassive. She wasn’t sure if it worked. Fucking Mandalorians with their fucking helmets to keep their fucking faces covered.

“You’re going to need to do a lot more than that to stand out,” she shot back, finally dropping his wrist from her hold. She reached around him, all but slamming the key code to lower the ramp. “Just … no protective bullshit, okay?”

—

Despite her somewhat … prickly exterior, Ten had found herself chasing beautiful things in all the spare moments that had allowed for it. Perhaps the seeds for it had been planted all those years ago on Yaim, where the sunlight filtered through the trees like stained glass, where the wildflowers bloomed twice a year with colours that seemed to get brighter with each passing day, where the air itself seemed to whisper sweet nothings into your ear. Wherever the origin, Ten found herself exploring the desolate moons and planets of the Outer Rim, always searching, hoping, of finding a peace she couldn’t even describe.

So when the doors opened on one of the most beautiful rooms Ten had ever seen, her breath caught in her throat.

The ceiling was draped in soft fabrics, gathering at the centre, and billowing across the expanse above them. Where they met the walls there was ornate crown moulding, periodically broken up with elaborate white statues of a variety of fearsome appearing creatures, all crouching in some form of attacking stance. Continuing down, the walls were covered with rich patterns embossed in shining gold, standing out starkly against the black walls. The floor stretched ahead of them, gleaming black marble with veins of white spindling in all directions.

“This way, gorgeous,” the taller man said, and Ten had to fight down the most violent of her instincts when he placed his hand just above the small of her back to guide her inside. He seemed to have a small shred of sense, as he stopped just short of actually touching her.

Her heels — ridiculous and too tight and impractical, but more practical footwear would have blown the cover — clicked against the floor as they entered. Eyes turned towards the new entrants and Ten’s skin prickled uncomfortably at the attention. Men dressed in ash grey uniforms scanned their eyes up and down her body, and she knew what they saw, how exposed she was.

It felt like a Bantha was standing on her lungs, expelling all the air. She couldn’t breathe.

“Hey,” came the rough voice in her ear. “I’m here. You aren’t alone in there, I’m here.”

It was a lie of course, he wasn’t there. At least not yet — he was still on the surface, trying to map out another point of access to the underground hub. But she leaned into the lie all the same, air slowly filtering back through her body.

I’m here. I’m here. I’m here.

—

The stench of the lower streets of Coruscant entered Din’s nose even through the protection of the helmet. Dirt and grease and urine from multiple species. He couldn’t fathom how Ten was able to stand it.

She walked beside him now, eyes roving over their surroundings, catching the movements of every figure that shifted around them. He noticed her lightsaber was now attached to her hip, sitting next to her blaster.

His mind wandered again to their … involvement, as she had adorably called it. If he was honest with himself, Din had been riding the high of having her beneath them, at his mercy on his fingers, for the remainder of the ride to Coruscant. And like any addict, he knew — he needed more.

But that was a problem for later, he reasoned.

The bar was tucked into a nearly indistinguishable alleyway, covered partially by someone’s laundry hanging above, and framed by a littering of empty crates someone had discarded over the area. He gestured to Ten with a jerk of his head, walking ahead of her through the narrow space.

A narrow brick alley gave way to a small, dark room. If Din hadn’t already known it was a bar, he wasn’t sure he’d be able to guess. The smells of the street were replaced with the thick scent of smoke inside, and several customers lounged out over the minimal seating, taking long drags on exotic looking pipes.

“The Mandalorian,” came a deep and ragged voice. A human man sat nearby at what served for the bar — a worn expanse of wood that looked too thin, with a poor stock of bottles on a shelf behind it. Din couldn’t see a bartender, but the man had a drink grasped in his hand all the same. He brushed his hair from where it hung in front of his eyes, and Din was surprised it didn’t drip with the amount of grease it seemed to have. “To what do I owe the favour?”

“A favour is exactly what I’m here to cash in on, actually, Sio.” Din stood in front of him, crossing his arms over his chest, letting his figure fill the immediate space. Ten came to stand beside the bar, lightly fingering its grimy surface. “You owe me one, if I’m not mistaken.”

Sio coughed, low and long. He looked significantly more agitated now. “Ah yes … I do recall that, vaguely. But first why don’t you introduce me to your little friend, huh? She looks like she needs someone who can really show her a good time, eh …” The man rose from his stool now, leering in closer to Ten. Din tensed, one hand going to his blaster and the other clenching into a fist. Ten appeared — at least on the surface — to be impassive, but he saw the flash of annoyance in her eyes.

He took another long drag of the pipe. “They don’t make ‘em like you ‘round these parts, that’s for sure…”

And then, like an absolute fucking idiot, Din saw his hand reach out towards Ten’s waist. Faster than he could react, she was bringing her hand up to the back of his head, and slamming him down face first into the wooden surface.

Blood ran from Sio’s nose, and he spit it out as it covered his mouth. “Well, she’s got a bit of bite there.”

Ten wiped her hand off on her pants. “Now you owe us two favours.”

—

She dropped another tracking chip in front of the ornately carved bar. A stark contrast to the tiny room they’d met Sio in, this bar spanned the entirety of one of the room’s walls, with a pristine surface inlaid with carved designs. Behind it there was an impressive stock of liquors from all over the galaxy, served by a contingent of bartending droids. One of them slid smoothly over to where she stood.

“Hello, may I offer you a drink?” Ten pondered it, fingers tracing over one of the bar’s patterns.

“No, thank you,” she politely declined. She turned back to face the room, elbows resting behind her. A man with a pinched face and white hair slowly approached, with a sneer she wanted desperately to slap off.

“You are a vision, my dear.” He held his hand out expectantly, and Ten swallowed thickly before placing hers on top of it. He brought it up to his lips, kissing her skin. She felt bile rise in her throat. “I haven’t seen you here before — allow me to introduce myself. Moff Ardellian.”

Ten forced a smile, hoping any discomfort in it would be written off as nerves. “Sola,” she lied smoothly. “I’m new to this part of the city.”

Moff Ardellian stepped closer to her, and Ten felt her muscles tense in response. She wasn’t sure if he noticed. His eyes roved greedily over her face. “Sola … that’s quite the scar you’ve got there. Such a shame to see such ugliness on such a pretty face.”

You should take that up with Moff Quell, who I’m sure you know intimately well. “I was a dancer for a time. An unfortunate gift from an … unhappy client.”

“You poor girl,” he tutted at her. “Well, I can assure you we don’t treat our beautiful ladies like that here. You’ll be safe whenever you’re in attendance. And … some girls make alternative arrangements to guarantee safety and comfort long term, as well.” When she didn’t make any move to respond to his vile insinuations, the Moff sent her a wink, starting to turn away again. “I’ll leave you to ponder that for the time being. Enjoy your night, Sola.”

Ten took a deep breath as the man walked away, clenching a fist at her side. She motioned to the bar droid again. “I changed my mind. Give me the strongest drink you can make.”

—

“This is stupid.”

Din bit back a laugh he knew would not be appreciated at the pure petulance currently on Ten’s face. And he could hardly blame her; the long and delicate drapes of fabric against her skin looked alien, so unusual to what Din had become used to her. But it would be a lie to say he didn’t appreciate it.

“This is a cover.”

She rolled her eyes, but she knew he was right.

The woman who had been crouched at the hem of the dress rose, retrieving a nearby jar filled with some kind of balm, by the look of it. She dipped her fingers into it, applying a generous amount onto the bare expanse of Ten’s chest, causing her to flinch.

“This is a scar salve,” she said in an accented voice. Din couldn’t make out the region. “It should temporarily remove the smaller scars across your chest, here. Won’t be enough for the face, unfortunately. You know, I know some great dermal regenerists in the city, if you’re interested.”

“I’m not,” was Ten’s clipped response. The woman cocked a skeptical eyebrow, returning the lid to the container.

“You’re almost all set. I’ll go get the details of the fake chain code.”

Then they were alone. Din eyes went up and down Ten’s body, and he was thankful for the cover of the helmet. The front of the dress dipped low, exposing the valley between her breasts, the skin there now smooth and pristine. Everywhere else, the black fabric clung to her, down her arms, over her hips, flowing gently around her legs. The room was uncomfortably warm.

Din walked closer to her, until he was just standing just behind her. One step closer and her back would be pressed into his armour. Their eyes met in the speckled mirror. He brought his arm around, showing her the long chain he held.

“This will provide an audio and visual feed, directly into my helmet. I’ve already wired it in.” He opened the chain, looping it around her neck, smoothly moving her hair back until it sat flush on her skin. “Should just look like a nice piece of jewelry. And this—” he pushed the hair off one of her ears, holding it back with a light hold as he hooked something small into her ear. “—is an audio receiving piece, so you can hear me. Also wired into the helmet.”

His hand lingered on the back of her neck, and he slowly trailed it down her spine, and outwards, coming to rest on her hip.

“You know you don’t have to do this,” he said in a low voice. He squeezed his hand. “We can make another plan.”

Her eyes softened slightly. “You and I both know this is the best plan we could have. It’s fine.”

Din nodded. He didn’t want to remove his hand. “I stand by what I said. I won’t let the Empire — whatever’s left of it — take you.”

Ten covered his hand with her own.

—

Ten made her way slowly around the room, dropping more of the tracking chips, making the least amount of polite conversation she possibly could get away with.

Now, she came to a small bathroom. Down a short hallway away from the main room, it was metallic and practical. She eyed herself in the mirror, unnerved by the made up appearance. She couldn’t help but wonder what the Mandalorian had thought of it.

She brought the communication piece of the necklace to her mouth. “That’s the whole room. I’m alone in the washroom now. Anything?”

“No access from the surface that I can see yet.” Damn. “Looks like that hallway extends further left, possibly some offices. If you can slip away, it’d be good to drop one down there.”

“Slipping away would be my pleasure.” She dropped the necklace back down, letting it settle between her breasts again. Lifting some of the fabric of the skirt, she ran her hands over the knives strapped around her thigh reassuringly. Smoothing the dress down again, she eased the door open, making sure the hallway was empty.

Ten slipped those damn heels off before continuing down the hallway, the opposite direction of the party. As she dropped another chip down, she noted the names etched into the doorways. It seemed like Mando had been right, these were offices.

Continuing at a slow pace, she scanned the names with mild interest, wondering how disruptive it would be to their mission to go into one at random and smash everything she could find.

Near the end of the corridor, where it split into two more, Ten saw a name that made her heart seize in her chest.

Dr. R. Dracko.

Mando’s voice broke into her ear. “There’s an access tunnel a level below you, 300 meters away, that leads right to the surface. I think I found the other end. All goes well, I’ll join you in a moment.”

Ten nodded dumbly, before realizing she couldn’t see him. She rested her hand on the handle of the door — there was no keypad or scanned entry, since they obviously assumed it was safe down here. She pushed it open. Unlocked.

It was unassuming inside, a small desk nestled in the corner, a powered down holo display. The only other furniture in the room was a sleek cabinet against the opposite wall. Curiously, she pulled open a drawer; Maker, there were actually papers inside.

She rifled through them, the familiar but almost forgotten feel of them strange on her hands. There was a wealth of folders, each labelled with a tab in Basic. Almost every one was classified ‘Project Inactive.”

Pulling open more drawers, she dug until, finally — ‘Project Active.” Not even bothering to look at its contents, she extracted the weightly folder from the drawer, heart pounding with adrenaline.

The increased heart rate wasn’t ideal when she turned and a knife was sunk smoothly into her abdomen.

She gasped, and pain seared through her as the knife twisted — it was in the hand of a man now standing in front of her. Gritting her teeth, she forced her eyes up to his face. It was Dracko, his nostrils flaring, an air of superiority falling onto his face.

“Little bitch,” he spat at her. “I know who you are, probably better than you do. You thought you could just come here and—” He was cut off as Ten raised her hand, energy coursing through her as she slammed him against the wall of the small room. A trickle of blood appeared, moving down his temple.

She groaned loudly, any thoughts to listeners out of her mind, as she sank down the wall behind her. The dress around the knife felt heavy as it became soaked with blood, which left her fingers red when she touched it.

It lit a fire inside of her, and tears came unbidden to her eyes at the burn of it.

Bunching up the skirt of the dress, she ripped a long piece of fabric off the bottom hem, wincing at the strain of her abdominal muscles. Her hands were shaking as she wrapped the knife where it stuck out from her, securing the makeshift stabilizer around her back.

A sheen of sweat covered her skin as more blood oozed out around the wound. She tried to stand, but a white hot flash of agony erupted from her side. Her body slammed back against the wall, and she panted deliriously.

Footsteps echoed in the hallway outside — the door to the office was still open. She grasped her leg, bloody fingerprints appearing on the skin, as she pulled the knife from the strap around her thigh. Ten knew she was growing much too weak to pull on the Force. This was what she had. She braced a hand against the wall as the footsteps approached just outside the office.

She raised her arm opposite the stab wound, knowing one good throw was all she was likely to get.

A blaster appeared first, the barrel scanning the room, and then — that damned silver helmet. Ten felt a moment of relief flood through her, muscles growing heavy as the adrenaline waned. The knife seemed to get sharper where it was settled in her flesh.

“Shit,” she breathed out. Mando scanned the room, wordlessly taking the pulse of Dracko where he lay in a crumpled heap.

“Fuck, Ten.” He approached her now, hands floating around her side, not touching. She laughed, but it was raspy and uneven.

“I look that good, huh?”

He shot her a look, and though the helmet looked the same as it always did, she got the meaning. No. You look really fucking bad, so shut up.

—

Getting back to the ship was a blur. Ten recognized the vague shape of bodies littering the hallways Mando let her down, the distant ringing of an alarm, the cool air as he brought her up and out of the long access shaft. They were lucky the lower levels of Coruscant didn’t look twice at a Mandalorian hauling a woman with a stab wound through the streets.

Her hands gripped the edges of the worn crate Mando sat her on. She was gasping, trying desperately to draw air into her lungs, but each inhale felt as if it were bathing the surrounding muscles in acid, slowing eating away at her body.

Mando was back now — where had he gone? When had he gone? — and crouching in front of her, something metallic in his hands. He slowly unravelled the fabric Ten had put to stabilize the knife, and she cried out.

“I know, I know,” he said in a low voice. Perhaps … soothing? She couldn’t put the pieces together in her mind to make out the tone. “I know it hurts, but I need you to stay still for me, okay? Grab here, hold as tight as you need.”

He raised one of her hands up until they met with something soft and warm. She wiped furiously at the wetness in and around her eyes, until his blurry helmet came into view. Her hand was wrapped around the fabric of his upper arm, she realized, his shoulder pauldron discarded on the floor nearby.

There was a gentle ripping noise, and Ten felt cool air on her skin. Looking down at the source, she saw he’d cut away the dress around the knife, just below her breast. The flesh there was red and mangled, the edge of the knife serrated. Shit.

“Mando, it’s … fuck—” Her eyes were glued to the wound, watching the edges expand and contract as she took shallow breaths. She felt a gloved hand on her face, urging it up. It was covered in a wetness that was no doubt her own blood, now smeared across her cheek. Mando dragged her eyes to his helmet.

“Don’t look at that. Focus on me. Okay?”

She nodded weakly, her brow furrowed tightly. Her own distorted reflection started back at her from the beskar chrome, body writhing of its own accord.

“I’m going to pull it out now, okay? On three.” She nodded, tensing as she felt the movement of his hand wrapping around the hilt of the weapon. “One—”

She screamed out as he gave a harsh pull, the sound echoing around the ship. Her hand cramped as she gripped his shirt tightly, as if she was trying to will the pain to travel somewhere else, anywhere else. It blinded her, and she could hear Mando speaking but couldn’t make out the words as he pressed onto her side. Wetness flowed down her body, outlining her leg, blood pooling on the floor.

The room spun around her, and Mando’s voice finally drifted back to her ears.

“—need to cauterize the internal— doing so well, okay— talk to me, Ten.”

She shook, forcing words up and out of her throat. “What the f— shit — fuck do you want me to say?”

“Tell me about the Mandalorians you knew.”

Ten almost — almost — had to laugh. He wanted to know .... about Mandalorians. Of course he did. She screwed her eyes shut, trying to pull the memories through the dense fog of pain.

“There were … two of them. Refugees like w—we all were, from the Great Purge of … of Mandalore. Fuck!” Her muscles seized anew as she felt burning; a real burning as she realized Mando was cauterizing. She grit her teeth, moans of pain slipping out as she slammed her head back against the wall.

“Keep going.”

“F—fuck, okay.” She tried to take a deep breath, though it still felt much too shallow. “They were like … they were like you. With the helmets and shit. But they … shit … they were on that moon for a long time. We all were.” She twisted her hand harder into his shirt, and she could feel the muscles straining underneath as he worked. “They were — ah — they were kind. Silya used to … used to tell me stories about Mandalore when I … when I couldn’t sleep. And Tinian … taught me how to throw a punch and not— not break my knuckles.”

Mando laughed at that. His hand came to grip her elbow, so tightly it almost hurt. The fire raging under skin was beginning to douse into a duller burn, embers of an inferno that glowed with a constant heat. “You’re doing so well, Ten. I’m almost done.”

Ten nodded, letting out a long breath. Her breaths felt more attainable now, more air drawn into her starving lungs.

“What happened to them? Silya and Tinian?” Mando was grabbing wrappings now, his hands gliding over the blazing skin of her torso, temporarily suppressing the fires they encountered.

“They’re dead.”

He didn’t ask anymore. Ten released her hand from where it was embedded in his shirt, the muscles aching as she flexed her fingers. She wiped a generous covering of sweat from her forehead. She dared a glance down again, thanking the Maker the area was now covered in a bandage, the skin around it shiny with bacta salve. Her breath came in pants.

Mando’s hands came back to her face, framing it. “You did well, Ten. You’re okay.” He pressed the forehead of his helm against the skin of hers, seemingly not caring about the blood and sweat that was likely to be deposited there. “I should get you a towel—”

“No,” Ten gasped, grabbing him by the elbows. “Just … stay. Please.”

“Okay,” he whispered.

For a moment they stayed there, Ten’s breath fogging against the front of his helmet. She closed her eyes, hands curling upwards around Mando’s biceps.

“I would cuddle you now, if you wanted.”

“Go fuck yourself, Mandalorian.”

—

A/N: what did i tell ya??? a beAST! thanks again for all those who read it, this is my baby and im excited its been gearing up for these stubborn mf'ers

taglist: @djarrex @pedrostories

[theplumbnerd]

Guide to Preventing Frozen Pipes

Introduction

Greetings, savvy homeowners! I'm Jack Thompson, the PipeMaster, your friendly neighborhood plumber from the frosty city of Denver. Today, we're diving into the realm of winter plumbing, focusing on the crucial task of preventing frozen pipes. Ready to shield your plumbing from the icy grip of winter? Fantastic! Bundle up, and let's embark on this journey of winter plumbing wisdom together. Winter Plumbing Wisdom: A Preventative Guide with Jack Thompson With over a decade of battling the winter chill, I'm here to share practical tips and a step-by-step guide to help you safeguard your pipes like a seasoned pro. No need for complicated plumbing terminology – just straightforward advice. Let's fortify your plumbing against the winter cold!

Signs Winter is Taking a Toll on Your Pipes

Before we gear up for the battle against the freeze, let's recognize the warning signs that winter might be causing trouble for your pipes: Signs: - Reduced Water Flow: When faucets start to trickle instead of flowing freely, it might indicate the beginnings of frozen pipes. - Strange Noises: Gurgling or banging sounds in your pipes could signal ice buildup.

My Winter-Ready Plumbing Approach

Time to prepare your plumbing for winter's icy embrace! Here's how I approach preventing frozen pipes, drawing on years of experience: Step 1 - Insulate Exposed Pipes - Exterior Pipes: Wrap exposed pipes outside your home with insulation sleeves to shield them from the cold. - Interior Pipes: For pipes in unheated areas like basements and crawl spaces, insulate with foam pipe insulation. Step 2 - Seal Drafts and Close Gaps - Caulk and Weather Stripping: Seal gaps and cracks in windows, doors, and walls to prevent cold air from infiltrating. - Keep Garage Doors Closed: If water supply lines run through your garage, keep the doors closed to maintain a warmer environment. Step 3 - Allow Faucets to Drip - Drip Strategy: On especially cold nights, allow faucets to drip slightly to relieve pressure and prevent freezing. - Cabinet Doors Open: Open cabinet doors under sinks to allow warm air to circulate around pipes. Step 4 - Heat Cable Installation - Apply Heat Cable: Consider installing heat cables on vulnerable pipes, especially those in uninsulated areas. - Follow Manufacturer Guidelines: Ensure proper installation and adhere to the manufacturer's guidelines for heat cable usage. Step 5 - Drain Outdoor Faucets - Disconnect Hoses: Disconnect and drain garden hoses, and store them indoors to prevent damage. - Install Faucet Covers: Install faucet covers on exterior hose bibs to insulate and protect them from freezing temperatures.

Maintenance Tips for Winter Plumbing Resilience

Regular Checks - Inspect Insulation: Regularly check the condition of insulation around pipes and replace any damaged sections. - Examine Caulk and Weather Stripping: Ensure caulk and weather stripping are intact, repairing or replacing as needed. Safety Tips - Use Caution with Heat Sources: If using space heaters or heat lamps, exercise caution to prevent fire hazards. - Monitor Weather Forecasts: Stay informed about upcoming weather conditions to implement preventive measures accordingly. Call in the Pros - Extreme Weather Events: If extreme cold is forecasted, consider consulting a professional plumber for additional guidance. - Persistent Issues: If you encounter persistent plumbing issues during winter, seeking professional assistance is advisable.

Conclusion

There you have it, winter warriors! Equipped with practical insights and a step-by-step guide for preventing frozen pipes, you're now ready to face the chilly season head-on. Courtesy of yours truly, Jack Thompson, the PipeMaster. Now, fortify your pipes, stay warm, and may your winter be free of plumbing woes. Happy winterizing! Read the full article

[michael-langdon-appreciation]

Apocalypse After (Part 10)

Pairing: Michael Langdon x fem!reader

Summary: There was never any hope of saving Michael Langdon, never a chance to stop the apocalypse. The Antichrist was already too intertwined with his destiny when the reader met him all those years ago. But Mallory can go back and make things right and when the reader travels with her, an opportunity sparks to try and make things right after all.

Words: 3.1K

Warning: SMUT! A good old BJ, some handsy content, 

A/N: I’m back and on a writer’s streak I hope will continue and that means updating my baby! I’m putting on my ‘Queen of Plot Twists’ hat for this one as an old enemy surfaces, sexy times happen and Y/N has a choice to make. 

        To no one’s surprise, Michael passes Telekinesis and Transmutation in record time. The library is so silent, I can hear the murmurs of Hawthorne’s students going about their evening activities. Zoe and Myrtle sit tight together on the couch, giving nothing away. Cordelia stands before the central fireplace, the flames lulling in the grate, by the piano stands Ariel and the Warlocks. I’m near the doorway, my task being to prevent any wayward students from disturbing the examination. That’s the compromise I had to make in order to watch.

        Michael is centre-stage, his hands held behind his back. Only I can see how he twists and tugs at his fingers. As the Boy-Wonder carries out Divination, Cordelia’s eyebrows dip in her first, glimpse of worry. A book flies through the air and over to Behold. The Warlock stretches out his arm and his eyes fall to the title. Both John-Henry and Baldwin lean in to peek too. ‘Correct.’ Behold’s voice rings out and the Warlock’s fall into easy smirks.

      ‘Well done, Michael.’ Ariel brings his hands together.

        ‘Oh please,’ Myrtle dismisses with a wave of a yellow-gloved hand. ‘Our Zoe passed at least four wonders. This is nothing but child’s play.’

        ’Then let’s continue.’ Cordelia keeps her tone even, her eyes never leaving Michael. ‘We move onto Pyroken-‘

        Before she can even finish, the fire leaps out at the Reigning Supreme. There’s a gasp from Zoe as Cordelia quickly moves out of the way. The Warlocks burst into a round of applause and I take the distraction as a chance to sneak over by the spiral stairs. Michael catches my movement, his chest puffing out as he catches sight of me. ‘Concilium?’ He asks, a lilt of amusement hanging in the air.

        Cordelia nods slowly, ‘When you’re ready.’

        She keeps on nodding, taking a couple seconds too long to stop. I can’t resist a smile at how Michael’s pushing her, my smile is a full on smirk watching the current Supreme walk forwards like a penguin.

        ‘My God.’ Myrtle breathes, all of us watching as Cordelia fights to get control of herself again.

        I’ve been under Concilium myself. I know how helpless it feels, your mind fighting between what it knows is wrong and the balm of happiness that encourages you to follow the easiest, simple commands.

        Sometimes, if the puppeteer is as strong as Michael, you just act.

        Zoe stands abruptly and begins a routine of ‘heads, shoulders, knees and toes’ as Cordelia wrenches her hands back into a normal position and hurries back to her place at the fire. ‘Enough.’

        I know that tone well enough to know Michael has pushed the Supreme to her last nerve. The Warlock’s smiles match my own, but the Witches look outraged. Myrtle’s spectacles flash in warning, a spell inches away from her lips.

        ‘There’s nothing wrong with friendly competition.’ Ariel, ever the smooth-talker steps forwards.

        ‘We’ll move to Vitalum Vitalis.’ Cordelia says, not even glancing at Ariel, but her eyes make one very deliberate sweep over to me. Michael follows her gaze and I find myself shrinking backwards.

        This isn’t time for my war with Cordelia.

        This is Michael’s time to shine.

        I hope.

        The Supreme moves to the piano and picks up a small white box. From inside she removes a tiny dead mouse and hands it to Michael. ‘Use your own life force and bring the mouse back to life.’

        Michael accepts the mouse in his hand. His eyes become focused as he peers down at the mouse.

        We wait.

        1.

        2.

        Michael’s eyes flick to me and in that one look my stomach stills.

        He can’t do it.

        I purse my lips and breath out slowly. Michael’s quick to copy, lifting the mouse up for dramatic effect. His other hand covers the mouse’s tiny body, lips inches away.

        His voice rings clear in my head, as scared as when I’d first met him.

        I CAN’T DO IT!

        No one is watching me, everyone’s gaze is on Michael. The Warlocks’ tug at their sleeves, their nerves building. Cordelia breathes in satisfaction and that does it for me. I narrow my focus, thinking of the poor little mouse.

        Vitalum Vitalis, one of my strongest powers. I don’t even have to think.

        Michael’s hands open, the little mouse running all over him, trying to hide up one of his sleeves. He covers his shock in a schooled calm and places the mouse back in the box. Cordelia walks swiftly over to inspect. Her shock more palpable than ever.

        ‘That’s six wonders,’ Baldwin’s nearly skipping round the room.

        ‘Yes.’ Cordelia sweeps her blonde hair over her shoulder, turning back to Michael. ‘Descensum. The most challenging of all Seven Wonders. Though I’m sure Mr Langdon would like a break, considering the last wonder was a bit of a challenge.’

        ‘His powers are still manifesting.’ Behold clips back immediately, ‘Breaks are a common occurrence in these tests and Michael has passed six in very quick succession.’

        Michael remains quiet, observing everyone from a distance. He still looks ever so slightly shaken. He’s gripping onto his other wrist with a grip tight enough to cut off his blood circulation.

        ‘We will reconvene tomorrow at sunrise,’ Cordelia decides for the group. ‘There we shall see if Mr Langdon is indeed our next Supreme.’

        She leaves quickly, cape swishing behind her. Zoe follows behind her like an ever so faithful lap dog. Myrtle however, glides over to me. ‘Your student is doing well.’ She commends.

        ‘He is.’ I mask my surprise, but Myrtle’s laugh follows regardless.

        ‘I may despise this place, but I’ve always had a nose for talent.’

        ‘You won’t accept him though.’

        Myrtle tilts her head, ‘And what will we do, my dear? Allow him into Robichaux? It is an all girl’s school.’

        ‘I’m well aware.’

        Her eyes fall behind my shoulder, ‘I suppose we shall have to see if Michael can succeed. I’m confident he has come so far because it is you Y/N, who have been tutoring him.’

        ‘She’s amazing.’ Michael steps forwards, standing beside me. He’s bold enough to slip his hand into mine.

        Myrtle catches our exchange at once, ‘Well then, the rumour is true.’

        ‘I owe Y/N my life.’ Michael’s drawn himself upwards, his chin strong as he stares down at Myrtle. ‘She taught me what she learned from you. Without you, I fear my Y/N would have been at the mercy of Fiona.’

        It takes Myrtle five whole seconds to recover, ‘Perhaps…if you are indeed destined to be our next Supreme…it will not be completely intolerable.’ She casts an eye over his uniform. ‘Perhaps have a google of Dolce and Gabanna.’

        Michael’s confidence has soared, that or his eagerness. He pulls us to his room and the moment we’re inside he presses me up against it. His lips find mine immediately, my eyes slip shut at the taste, smell, feel of him.

        ‘You did that for me.’ He breathes, kissing me again. ‘I would have lost everything.’

        ‘I just…did it.’ I murmur, fingers gripping into his sleeves. ‘I heard you, in my head.’

        His lips travel down my neck places hot, wet kisses as Michael’s hand lifts my neck so he has better access to my flesh.

        His mouth hovers over my pulse point, ‘Every time I think I can’t owe you enough, you go and do something new,’ He breathes.

        ‘Guardian Angel.’

        Michael’s hand unbuttons the sheer black blouse I’m wearing. It slips off my shoulders, ‘I still believe it.’

        I moan as his lips start suckling at my collarbone. My chest arches upwards, Michael’s hands running down my back and tugging me tight against him. I can feel every movement he makes, golden curls blurring my vision as he decorates my skin with his lips, teeth, tongue. My hands run through his hair and he groans, surging up to kiss my lips again. I pull us towards his bed and lie down, letting him crawl on top of me.

        My shirt disappears, followed by Michael’s blazer, shirt and cravat. His skin is there right in front of me.

        ‘All for you.’ He finishes the thought in my head.

        His eyes have ensnared mine, light and blue.

        Eager.

        He’s still a boy, but Michael Langdon is becoming a man. I always knew this would happen. My bra joins our ever growing pile of clothes, Michael’s hands roaming my breasts before lowering his head to take one of my nipples between his teeth.

        ‘Michael’ I whisper, legs writhing beneath him as my hands work his belt free. He’s hard between my legs.

        ‘I’m not gonna stop.’ He promises, ‘Not until I have you.’

        I kiss him, our tongues tangling as I unzip him and take him out. His eyes widen, newfound pleasure hitting him as I roll us over. I kiss down his chest, taking Michael’s slacks with me as I tug them and his boxers off. His eyes follow every move I make as I take him in my hand and start stroking. He’s thick enough for my fingers to just not touch and long enough for him to be a stretch.

        It’s old territory for me as I kiss each of Michael’s ribs, watching how he shudders like always. ‘Oh God.’ He whines, ‘Oh Jesus.’

        ‘Careful.’

        His head falls to the side, intimacy washing through his veins as I take him apart underneath me. ‘It’s sooo good.’ His tip is leaking, coating my hand in his pleasure. My tongue licks a stripe from his base to the tip. ‘Y/N!’

        I take him down my throat, slow. Swallowing him down inch by inch. Michael’s sobbing and gasping and lost to everything but his own sensations. I smile as I release him, sucking gently on his tip. He trembles again, eyes big as a trail of spit connects my lips to his cock. ‘Do it again.’

        ‘This?’ I deep-throat him again and Michael’s groan gets louder. He slaps a hand over his mouth, hips rising up for more. I bob up and down, letting him get used to pleasure, to feeling my warm mouth enclosed around him. Michael lets out one low rumble, ‘Gonna….gonnaaaaaaa.’ I slide him out of my mouth, watching Michael’s cock spurt out thick ropes of white. He shudders, watching his body for as long as he can before his eyes slip shut.

        I slide away and run a small towel under some warm water. I bring it back to him, Michael already recovering. He sits up on his forearms, watching as I wipe away his cum. I toss the towel in the bathroom and our clothes in Michael’s hamper. I crawl into bed beside him, Michael scooting over to give me room. He pulls me into his arms, my head falling onto his chest. ‘You didn’t?’

        ‘Not this time.’ I murmur, looking up at him. ‘But next time, will be different.’

        Michael smirks, ‘It will indeed.’

        ‘I can’t keep borrowing Zoe’s clothes.’ I say, ‘I think she’d close her door on my face if I asked again.’

        ‘I’ve already told you,’ Michael’s fingers lazily plait my hair. ’You can wear anything of mine.’

        ‘Maybe when Ariel gives you his credit card again.’ I smile, ‘But I can’t be going round wearing your things. It would set the wrong idea.’

        ‘I think after tonight everyone has the right idea.’ A silence falls between us, ‘You don’t want to, do you?’

        ‘I want this.’ I reaffirm, reaching up to kiss him again. ‘I want you.’

        He kisses my forehead, ‘I’ve waited a long time to hear it.’

        ‘Not that long,’ I tease.

        ‘Long enough.’

        I let myself drift off, warm in Michael’s arms. ‘You’ve got me.’ He whispers, ‘In this life, the next and the past.’

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        We are back in the library, but this time the divide is clearly set. The Witches stand in a line, facing off against the Warlocks. Michael and Cordelia stand respectively at the front. More to balance things out than anything, I’ve wound up standing beside the Witches.

        ‘And so we arrive at the final test, Descensum.’ Cordelia begins. ‘But today I am not asking you to perform this miracle. Today I am asking you to conquer it. I’d like you to retrieve my good friend, Misty Day who lost her own battle with this very task.’

        Once again, the past has caught up to this present. I’m stood in nearly the same spot as previously, watching a much more reserved Michael Langdon listen intently to the exact same demand. This time, his eyes fall to me, gauging my reaction to this.

        ‘What is the point of making a hard taking even more difficult?’ I point out, folding my arms.

        Behold leaps in on my line of thinking, ‘Those who don’t return from Descensum are gone forever, property of the Underworld.’ He snaps.

        ‘No other Supreme’s been made to do this.’ Baldwin looks ready to tear Cordelia’s head off, the Supreme only spared by Michael taking one more divisive step forwards.

        His chin juts up in a challenge, ‘Why her? Of all your dead witches, why this one?’

        Cordelia’s mouth drops open. It seems Michael Langdon has rendered her momentarily speechless. ‘That is none of your business.’ She bites back, but Cordelia seems horribly uncomfortable at the question.

        ‘Have some manners.’ Myrtle scolds.

        I think Michael’s lost what shred of respect he’d earned from the witch last night.

        Michael studies Cordelia and I do too. Her chest rises, her eyes wider than usual.

        She’s hiding something. Something to do with Misty.

        Whatever I’ve missed, Michael seems to pick up on easily enough. A smile creeps up the corner of his lips, ‘Don’t worry, I’ll get your friend back.’

        Cordelia squares up to Michael, ‘The reason I ask you to go above and beyond today is because you are not the only person in the running to become the next Supreme.’

        The news sinks into everyone, each of us digesting the information as best as we can. Cordelia and Zoe stand smug, but Myrtle seems just as perplexed as the rest of us.

        I realise who they are referring to, ‘Mallory?’

        ‘Mallory too has been training for the test of the Seven Wonders.’ Cordelia informs me, ‘We were due to carry out her test when we were summoned here.’

        ‘And why have we only just heard about this candidate?’ Ariel interrogates, ‘This is an underhand, last minute attempt for you to reclaim back your title.’

        He breaks off as the library doors open, the click of a set of heels echoing on the polished wood and then a figure. Lithe, with a flowing black dress, cinched with a black and gold belt. A circlet is woven into blonde hair. Mallory strides into the library, looking far more confident than I ever saw her in our past. She seems ready to see me, halting in the doorway.

        The whole thing was completely over the top.

        Michael gawks at her, his eyes wide and questioning. I feel his gaze burning into me as Mallory and I square off. The Warlocks’ voices are raised, bickering back and forth with the witches as Mallory saunters over to stand beside Cordelia.

        ‘I summoned Mallory here in order to pass her final wonder.’ Cordelia announces, ‘Given that Mr Langdon and Mallory are both vying for the title of Supreme and both have yet to complete Descensum, the rules must be…altered to accommodate.’

        ‘This is completely out of order.’ Behold seethes, ‘This is slanderous.’

        ‘Oh darling, you could work with my dear friend Bubbles in the pictures what with your dramatics.’ Myrtle scoffs.

        Mallory finally turns her piercing gaze from me to Michael. I want to step in front of Michael, protect him from the bitch who tried to kill him. But there’s nothing I can do. Their inevitable meeting was here.

        ‘So you’re my…competition.’ Mallory’s voice is ladened with fake disappointment.

        ‘How do we all know she hasn’t already taken this test and passed?’ I snap, knowing full well that Mallory had indeed passed all the wonders.

        ‘Are you accusing me of cheating, Y/N?’ Cordelia thunders, ‘You dare to question your Supreme?’

        Myrtle remains relatively silent, watching with a keen eye behind her spectacles. ‘Cordelia,’ She cautions, ‘You are being irrational, darling.’

        ‘What are you going to do, have them race to find Misty?’

        Cordelia’s silence is the confirmation everyone needs.

        ‘THIS IS AN ABOMINATION.’ Screeches Ariel, ‘You have no right, Cordelia. I do not care who this witch is. We will not stand for this, Michael come away. Now.’

        Michael is frozen in his spot. His head turns slowly to Cordelia, ‘The one to bring Misty back first, is the next Supreme?’

        ‘That’s it.’

        Mallory tosses some of her hair behind her shoulder, ‘I hope you aren’t scared to be beaten by a girl.’

        Michael chuckles low, ‘We’ll see.’

        My discussion with Ariel is bouncing around my brain too. Would Michael be able to take out Mallory while in the Underworld? Would Satan help out his baby boy? If Mallory never made it back…I can’t tell if he’s listening in to my thoughts or not. Michael and Mallory are at a crossroads, enemies once more, facing off for what could again be the final time.

        ‘If we are going to resort to this petty art of putting one person against another, then perhaps we should at least ensure all players are partaking?’

        Again everyone is silenced by Myrtle. A gloved hand, purple this time, is at her lips. ‘Y/N, dear.’ She calls, ‘It’s time you put your name back in the hat.’

        I stare at her and everyone stares back at me.

        ‘Fiona was after our dear Y/N for a reason, was she not?’ Myrtle continues, ‘Cordelia, you know as well as I that Y/N’s talents are not to be ignored. I myself can attest for seeing Y/N performing at least five wonders with ease.’

        ‘Not to mention, she’s the most skilled of us at Vitalum Vitalis,’ Mallory says.

        So she does know.

        My hands shake a little as I clasp them in front of me, ‘No.’

        ‘No?’ Myrtle echoes, ‘My dear, how do you know for sure unless you take the plunge?’

        ‘I said no.’ My voice is firm.

        Michael’s not looking at me. His eyes are on his shoes. It’s hugely apparent that no one is on my side but Myrtle Snow. ‘Is this why you cultivated me all these years?’ I ask, ‘You were waiting for this moment?’

        ‘I always knew you were destined for greatness.’

        ‘A break, perhaps?’ John-Henry, quiet for so long, steps in. ‘So we can all discuss?’

        ‘I don’t need a break.’ Michael cuts in, ‘I’m ready.’

        ’So am I,’ Mallory counters.

        It’s my turn and I know what my answer is. I cannot perform Descensum. The last time I did, I died.

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[unabletoforget]

An Unexpected Reunion

@theacerbicprince

     Jillian stood with her arms crossed tightly over her chest as if doing her best to protect herself from the memories the castle in front of her brought, her fingers curling into her sleeves. She swallowed thickly as she looked up at Hogwarts, terrified of the memories that lay inside. She had been spending the last year of her life perfectly content to stay in her house in London where she and Sirius had been living before he was arrested, moping over the loved ones that had been lost to her. She was perfectly content with the idea of never leaving, with the idea of never truly rejoining society. How was she supposed to walk back into a world like that? A world where Lily didn’t exist anymore? A world where James and Peter didn’t exist anymore? The same world where Marlene and Dorcas and all of her other friends had vanished from, even Remus, didn’t seem like a very welcoming place. 

     Jillian closed her eyes tightly as she took a deep breath, her mind falling to her fallen friends and what they would tell her in a moment like this. ‘You just have to do the scary thing, even if it’s terrible, because it won’t seem so terrible when it’s over,’ James would say. And Peter would hold her hand and tell her ‘I’ve seen you take on Death Eaters, this is nothing. This is just a building, you’re Jillian, no building is a match for you.’ Peter always knew how to make her feel brave. ‘You can do this…’ Jillian’s eyes snapped open, watery and filled with sorrow. ‘You’re my best friend, I know you better than anyone. You can do this.’ Lily. She swallowed thickly as she looked over her shoulder as if to make sure no one was following her, PTSD some had said, paranoia others had thought. But in truth, it was hope. Hope that Lily and James would just appear behind her one day. 

     She sniffled softly and wiped her eyes, another deep breath filling her lungs. Remus would tell her bravery wasn’t about not being afraid, it was about battling your fears in the absence of another choice. Marlene would tell her to kick ass, Alice would tell her to take a deep breath, and Sirius...he would hold her hand and know that the action alone spoke volumes. But what he would say or do didn’t matter anymore, not after what he had done to her and to everyone they cared about. Harry’s little face flashed behind her eyes, her heart jumping. He would be two now, and she wasn’t even allowed to send him anything for his birthday, Albus had made her swear. But that didn’t mean she didn’t want to. If there was ever a chance of her seeing her godson again, of ever explaining anything to him, of ever protecting him and getting what little bit of family she had back, this place and a place on Albus’s good side was the only way.

     With one last moment to contemplate the tempting idea of turning back, she walked towards the front entrance of the castle, pulling her wand from her sleeve and waving it when she got close enough, watching the large doors open themselves. She put her wand back in her sleeve and stepped inside, a sick feeling churning in her stomach. She still knew this place like the back of her hand, each hall and each painting, where each door led and found that every inch of the castle was littered with memories. She crossed her arms tighter as she made her way towards Albus’s office, the password he had written in his letter to her so she might be let in to see him still rattling around in her brain. Sugar Quills. That man always did have a thing for sweets. 

     Jillian felt haunted as she walked through the halls of Hogwarts, quieter than she had ever heard them since there were no students inside. She heard the far off conversations of teachers in other halls as voices echoed around her, the murmurs of paintings and the far off flaps of wings but it was still so quiet. She looked out at the courtyard with an ache in her chest, swearing she saw a flash of bright red hair run past her. She turned around quickly to look for it but was met only with emptiness, swallowing thickly. James and Sirius used to chase herself and Lily all through these halls as if it were their jobs. 

     She wondered how long it would take to be here before she would stop seeing things, stop hearing things. Maybe they were right, maybe she did have PTSD, not only from all the loss she had gone through but from the war. She couldn’t tell you how many times she checked the locks at night or how many times she reached for her wand at the sound of the roof settling. War did that to you. She took a deep breath as she shook herself from it all, reminding herself there was no one there but her. She looked back at the courtyard, half expecting to see Peter and Remus studying but was met only with air. This was going to be a very long day.

     On the way to her destination, her mind swam with memories, hearing and seeing memories before her eyes as if they were playing out in real time. Marlene’s laughter echoing throughout the halls, her fingers running over the walls as she remembered leaning against them while talking to Dorcas. She closed her eyes as she forced herself to keep walking, thoughts of Severus entering her mind but she forced them out. She couldn’t do this now. She kept going, only stopping again when she got to a long hallway just past the moving staircases where she had once had a fight with Sirius. They had been broken up for months but when Lily had spilled the beans to him that Jillian was still in love with him they had gotten into a huge fight in this hall.

     Jillian pressed her palm flat against the warm stone, her finger tips buzzing. He had sworn to love her forever that day, promised that if she trusted him that they could be together always and that neither her mother nor his own could stop them. She had believed him, had taken him back and given him her heart that day. She scrunched up her face as she dropped her hand from the wall and shook her head. Once a liar, always a liar. She shook her head and shoved her hands into the pockets of her jeans and made her way down a few more hallways before she came to the large statue she knew she was looking for, sighing heavily. This was going to be an exhausting conversation. 

     “Sugar quills,” she said clearly, holding her hands up as she spoke. She watched a staircase begin to form, making her way over and taking her place on one of the steps as they rose, saving her the trouble of walking all the way up. When the stairs finally stopped moving she was met with a closed door, a flame on the wall on either side. She took a deep breath as she walked up to it, knocking three times before the door opened on it’s own. On the other side of the door she was met with a familiar office, Albus sitting behind his desk looking up at her.

     “I was beginning to wonder if you would come at all, Ms Graham,” he drawled.

     “We fought a war together Albus, you might as well start using my first name,” she pointed out, walking into the room properly, her hands shoving deeper into her small pockets, cursing women’s clothing for having such pitiful pockets in comparison to men’s. 

     “I suppose you’re right,” he said, shrugging his shoulders. “Perhaps it’s hard for me not to see you as a student when inside these walls.”

     Jillian half smiled at him, though it was forced. She saw no professor in front of her, she saw a general who had once given orders. “On the plus side, you can’t give me detention anymore,” she said.

     Albus laughed softly and nodded his head in agreement “Minerva did that more often than I did. But among you all, you were best at not being caught,” he said. She knew he was talking about the Marauders, the words making her chest hurt. She knew he could see it, because the look in his eyes slightly changed. He was giving her that look that everyone gave her when Severus had called Lily a mudblood, the one that she and Lily had received from damn near everyone in school when word got around. It was also the same look everyone had been giving her for the last year, since all her friends died and her boyfriend was arrested for their murders. Pity.

     “Stop it,” she said finally, feeling like she was an ant squirming under a magnifying glass. “Stop looking at me like an orphan kid. I can barely take it from the world, I don’t need it from you too,” she said firmly. She was tired. Tired of the pity, tired of the condolences, tired of the whispers. She was tired of people talking about how she was the poor little girl who was left all by herself. She was tired of the rumors that she was just as corrupt as Sirius and probably was in on the death of the Potters but had somehow escaped trial. It all reminded her far too much of the whispers that circulated when her father died and her mother went mad. She had been living with people whispering about her all her life, and she couldn’t take it anymore.

     Albus nodded silently in understanding, just watching her as she stood stiffly a few feet away from his desk. “Have you thought more about my offer?” he asked finally.

     Jillian sighed softly, he didn’t waste time did he? She looked at the ground as she rolled one of her ankles as if waiting for it to crack, her mind feeling muddy. “I don’t know if I can do this, Albus,” she admitted. “This place…”

     “Full of memories?” he asked, noticing she seemed to be lost for words. 

     Jillian nodded, swallowing thickly and noticing the tightness in her throat. “Everywhere I look...I’m just reminded of everyone I lost. I...It's like my past lives in these walls. It’s haunting. Even just on the way up here, I thought I might lose my mind. Peter, James, Lily...even Sirius...they live in these halls for me. How am I supposed to live with that every day?”

     He studied her while he leaned back in his chair a bit, though she wondered if it was for comfort or to get a better look at her. “Wouldn’t that be true everywhere else?” he asked. Jillian just stood there, her mouth seemed to be clamped shut. Was he right? “Would you not recall them in the walls of your house? I know you still live in the house you lived in with Sirius, are those walls not filled with memories too? Of the Potters?” he asked, taking advantage of the silence. 

     “Would you not see their image in Hogsmeade or Diagon Alley? Would you not see Lily in every red haired girl or James in every man with glasses? Would you not see Remus in any man with a scar on his face or Peter in every shy little boy? Would you not expect to see Sirius every time you hear a motorcycle drive by or vaguely smell his cologne in the air?” he asked, sitting up once more. “Would you not turn to look for Harry every time a baby cries?”

     “Don’t talk about Harry,” Jillian snapped quickly, somehow finding the words to defend her godson. But all the while, she knew he was right. 

     “Jillian…” he started.

     “You took him from me,” she said, clearly having not forgiven him for the act. She doubted she ever would.

     “I had to, you know that. I told you that last year,” Albus said, his voice calm as ever. 

     “He was the only family I had left,” she reminded.

     “I know. And if there was any other way I would have left him in your care, like your friends wanted. But this was the best way to keep him safe. In a few years he will be right back here, where he belongs. And if you take me up on my offer and you find a home here, you will be here when he comes,” he pointed out. It was manipulation, she could taste it in the air. After growing up around her mother, she knew control anywhere.

     “You’re not gonna let this go, are you?” Jillian asked after a moment or two of dead silence.

     “No,” he said, his mouth tilting up in a small smile. “I would never forgive myself if I let you die of a broken heart in that house. Not when you are of more use here. You have a good heart and a passionate nature Jillian. You can help mold the next generation into a better one than the one that came before it. A more tolerant and open minded generation. With the experience you have and the loyalty I know that resides in you, I know you can help make a better life for these children,” he said. “Harry may not be here, and neither is Lily, but there are people here who need you. And I think you need them too.”

     A tear rolled down Jillian’s cheek, one that she quickly wiped away before clearing her throat and running her fingers through her hair to get it out of her face. She watched him as she thought over his offer, knowing that as much as she hated it, he was right. If she didn’t find some sort of purpose, some sort of home, she would die in that house. The grief was too much. “History of Magic?” she asked hesitantly.

     “History of Magic,” he said with a nod.

     “Why that class?” she asked, curiously. “Why not Potions or Charms?”

     “Only position available,” he said honestly. “But also because I recall you rather enjoyed the class, you had your highest marks in it. So if there was ever a class you could teach, I would think it would be that one.”

     She sighed heavily before her shoulders relaxed “Fine, you’ve got yourself a deal,” she said, watching the amusement in his eyes behind his half moon spectacles. “When do you want me back here to start setting up for the school year?”

     “As soon as possible would be wonderful. Teachers always come back a bit early to start setting up their lesson plans but you also have to get settled in properly,” He informed her. 

     Jillian nodded “I’m gonna need a few days. Pack up my things, find a way to get the house off my hands, get some financial stuff squared away. Does next Monday work for you?”

     “Excellent,” he said, nodding as he smiled up at her. “Now, if you don’t mind, Jillian, I have to go over some paperwork concerning remodeling of the Quidditch field,” he said, picking his quill back up.

     “No problem. I have to head out anyway, stop by the bank,” she said, nodding and turning towards the door. 

     “Jillian,” Albus said as she reached the door.

     Jillian turned, her hand on the doorknob so she could close it on her way out “Yes?”

     Albus looked over his glasses at her “Welcome home.”

     Jillian smiled slowly, a ghost of a smile, a sad one. “It’s good to be home,” she lied, closing the door behind her as she made her way back down the stairs. She was doing it for Harry, she told herself. Because she had made a promise to James and Lily that she would protect their son if anything ever happened to them and in nine years time, she would be able to make good on that promise. If she wasted away in that god forsaken house, she would never be able to do that. If being here in this place, trapped in her own memories, could bring her closer to Harry one day, it was worth the trouble.

     Jillian made her way down the hall and had just turned the corner when she collided with someone taller than her, gasping as she reached out and grabbed onto their arm to steady herself so she wouldn’t fall over. “Woah!” she gasped, her legs wobbling a bit as she tried to catch herself, finding her footing again quite quickly. “Forgive me, I didn’t hear anyone…” but her words were lost when she looked up to see who she had bumped into, the sentence turning to ash in her mouth. This had to be one of her moments of insanity, there was absolutely no way this was real. But as she felt his arm under her grip and saw his near black eyes before her, she knew it was real. A little older but it was him. She would know that face anywhere.

     “Severus.”