#black tarpaulin

[tarpswholesaler]

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[uk-tarpaulins]

Dome-Shaped Waterproof Tarpaulins Shielding Spaces Across All Climates

introduction

In the realm of defensive covers, the interest in flexibility and productivity has prompted the ascent of vault-molded Waterproof Tarpaulins as a wonderful arrangement. This investigation digs into the novel highlights, applications, and advantages of these vault molded covers, which have been demonstrated to be a distinct advantage in safeguarding spaces against the different difficulties presented by various weather patterns.

I. Design Innovation The Dome Advantage

Vault-formed tarpaulins address a takeoff from conventional level covers, presenting a plan that offers particular benefits. The bend of the vault improves primary strength as well as works with compelling shedding of water, snow, and garbage. This planned development assumes a vital part in guaranteeing that the canvas stays tight, forestalling the arrangement of puddles and limiting the gamble of water pooling.

II. All-Weather Protection The Core Functionality

The essential appeal of vault-molded waterproof tarpaulins lies in their capacity to give all-climate assurance. Whether confronting heavy downpours, weighty snowfall, or singing daylight, these covers are intended to endure and repulse the components. The arch shape helps with the speedy spillover of precipitation, forestalling the aggregation of weight on a superficial level and guaranteeing steady inclusion.

III. Versatility Across Applications

One of the vital qualities of vault-formed waterproof tarpaulins is their flexibility across many applications. From building locales to agrarian settings, outside occasions to modern capacity, the vault shape is helpful in different situations. The capacity to cover various sorts of spaces with effectiveness and versatility makes these tarpaulins a favored decision in different businesses.

IV. Construction Sites Uninterrupted Progress in Adverse Weather

In the domain of development, where courses of events are basic, vault-formed waterproof tarpaulins assume an urgent part in guaranteeing continuous advancement. These covers go about as safeguards against unfavorable atmospheric conditions, shielding building destinations from downpours, snow, and brutal daylight. The extraordinary shape takes into consideration productive water spillover, and forestalling water collection that could somehow block development exercises.

V. Agricultural Applications Safeguarding Crops and Livestock

In farming, where the effect of weather conditions on harvests and animals is huge, vault-formed waterproof tarpaulins offer important security. Plantations and fields can be safeguarded from weighty precipitation, keeping soil disintegration and shielding crops from waterlogging. Domesticated animal regions can likewise profit from these covers, giving a dry and protected climate for creatures.

VI. Outdoor Events Ensuring Success Regardless of Weather

Open-air occasions are helpless against the impulses of climate, however vault vault-formed waterproof tarpaulins carry a feeling of unwavering quality to occasion arranging. Shows, weddings, and celebrations can continue consistently, with participants safeguarded from downpours or extreme daylight. The stylishly satisfying vault shape adds a building contact, improving the general environment of the occasion.

VII. Industrial Storage Preserving Assets in Challenging Environments

Businesses with open-air stockpiling yards face difficulties in saving resources from the effects of climate. Vault-molded waterproof tarpaulins go about as imposing hindrances, safeguarding gear, materials, and stock from downpours, snow, and UV beams. The productive overflow of water guarantees that things stay dry and in one piece, adding to the life span of resources.

VIII. Design Flexibility Tailoring Solutions to Specific Needs

While the vault shape is a key element, arch-molded waterproof tarpaulins likewise offer plan adaptability to take care of explicit requirements. Customization choices remember varieties for size, variety, and material synthesis. This flexibility permits these covers to flawlessly incorporated into various conditions and serve different capabilities across businesses.

IX. Advanced Materials Enhancing Durability and Performance

The adequacy of arch-formed Super Heavy Weight Tarpaulins isn't exclusively ascribed to their plan but additionally to the utilization of cutting-edge materials. Top caliber, waterproof textures, and coatings add to the solidness and life span of these covers. Materials with UV obstruction guarantee that the tarpaulins keep up with their respectability significantly under delayed openness to daylight.

X. Technological Innovations Smart Integration for Enhanced Functionality

In a time of shrewd innovation, arch-molded waterproof tarpaulins are not abandoned. Mechanical advancements incorporate sensor-prepared textures and environment control frameworks that upgrade the usefulness of these covers. Savvy reconciliation takes into consideration constant observing and versatile reactions to changing atmospheric conditions, guaranteeing ideal insurance.

XI. Installation and Maintenance Ensuring Long-Term Reliability

The establishment of arch-formed waterproof tarpaulins requires cautious preparation and aptitude to guarantee primary trustworthiness. Legitimate mooring frameworks and tensioning instruments are fundamental for the solidness of the covers. Customary support, including cleaning and assessment, is pivotal to guarantee that the tarpaulins stay powerful in repulsing water and keeping up with their defensive abilities.

XII. Challenges and Considerations Addressing Unique Demands

While arch-molded waterproof tarpaulins offer huge benefits, they likewise present one-of-a-kind difficulties. The plan intricacy requires careful designing and contemplations, for example, wind load, snow load, and natural variables should be considered during establishment. Beating these difficulties includes cooperative exertion between makers, specialists, and end-clients.

XIII. Future Prospects Advancements and Evolving Technologies

What's to come possibilities of arch-formed waterproof tarpaulins look encouraging, with continuous progressions in materials and advancements. Proceeded with innovative work intend to work on the plan, improve materials for expanded maintainability, and coordinate more astute functionalities. The developing scene of climate-safe covers is probably going to see arch-formed tarpaulins at the very front of advancement.

XIV. Conclusion Architecting Resilience in All Environments

All in all, vault-molded waterproof tarpaulins stand as design wonders, giving tough security in every weather pattern. Their exceptional plan, combined with cutting-edge materials and mechanical developments, positions them as adaptable arrangements across ventures. Whether shielding building locales, saving farming yield, guaranteeing the progress of open-air occasions, or defending modern resources, these tarpaulins demonstrate that structure and capability can consistently combine to make solid and versatile defensive covers. As we look towards the future, the vault shape is set to proceed with its rising as an image of flexibility against the capricious powers of nature.

[spiritualconnecnlovu4ever]

[petermorwood]

I took a few interesting snapshots this morning: colour photos that look like monochrome.

There was some frost last night, and this is how it settled on the black tarpaulin covering our firewood.

The textures are fascinating. That tarp is just plastic sheeting, completely smooth, yet in this shot the frost makes it look like woven fabric.

One other thing about taking photos in weather like that - it give extra appeal to getting inside again for a hot cuppa and thawed-out ears...

[morverenmaybewrites]

The Pizza Delivery Girl's Survival Guide to Gotham City Update

Pairing: Jason Todd x Reader

Newest chapter

AO3 Link

Summary:

People who lived outside of Gotham City would most often think of it in terms of its heroes and villains. About Batman and Robin, Joker and Harley Quinn.

People who actually live in Gotham City would only think of one thing: surviving.

Who cares about the people in costumes when your house has been bombed for the fifth time, or your wife has been taken hostage just because she worked in a bank?

Or, in your case, when you have to make regular deliveries to places where even Batman feared to tread?

Because let's face it. In a world full of superheroes and costumed villains, the real heroes are the ones who make sure that people get their pizzas in forty-five minutes or less.

Chapter Preview:

You paused on the bridge that hung high above the Burrow, and for the first time in your life, you felt a terror was so great that it made your throat close.

Gotham City had never looked so beautiful. From such a height, the burning neon lights looked like stars. 

But above your head, the sky looked pitch black. It made you think of the bodies that would sometimes wash up on Gotham Bay’s shores, black and bloated with rot. It made you think of  the shadows of inmates in the asylum, their voices like the skittering of insects, rising and falling as you passed them by.

It made you think of the night Timothy Young died, and you wondered that if, back then, there had been light enough that he saw the shadow of a monster fall over him. 

You wondered if he had time to understand what was happening, before he started against the concrete below. And then decided decided that it didn’t matter: you would understand If Francine Langstrom came for you, you would know. 

You would understand what was happening to you before you hit the ground. 

Your skull splitting open, the pink-grey ropes of your brain scattering on the concrete. And the thousand pictures that follow. Your death turned into a spectacle and a profit.

Just like Tim Young’s.

The thought made you freeze. You were standing in front of one of the many wooden bridges that connected the rooftops of abandoned buildings. The Burrow’s infamous floating night market. Set up by dusk and torn down by dawn, only to rise up again the next night, the floating night market was one of the Burrow’s main attractions. A bustling collection of kiosks made out of cheap plywood and tarpaulin, it was said that you could find anything there, so long as you didn’t ask too many questions: cheap phones, likely stolen from someone off the street, fake licenses, a sample of Bane’s Venom for impatient bodybuilders. It was set high up in the air, amidst the rooftops of many abandoned buildings, connected by a series of rickety wooden bridges.

But now the rooftops were empty. The bridges were falling apart, its wooden planks dangling precariously from their ropes. The empty kiosks had been left to rot in the constant rain. You could even see some of the abandoned merchandise, left behind  in people’s haste to pack up: an old, broken phone, children’s toys hanging forlornly on strings, obviously meant to be prizes in a game, now swelling with rainwater. Mold grew on their cotton bodies like new fur. 

Timothy Young’s death had transformed the Burrows’ floating night market into a ghost town. The thought made you feel a little lonely, picking through the bones of a dead market, looking to find a monster. 

Francine, The voice in your head sounded like Professor Langstrom’s. Her name is Francine Langstrom. 

The buzz of static cut through your thoughts as cleanly as a falling blade. And then Jason’s voice was in your ear.

“Last chance to back out of this.” 

His voice was rough, even taking into account the poor connection and the voice modulators he used. Maybe he was scared, too. The thought eased you somewhat, to know that you were not alone. 

Even through the poor connection, you could hear the strain in his voice. You cast a glance at the direction where he was supposed to be, tried to look for even a hint of him: the faint glow of his helmet, the hulking figure of his silhouette. But you found no sign of him. Still, knowing that he was there made you feel better. 

You raised a hand and hoped that he would not see the way your fingers trembled.  

And waved. 

Read more on AO3

[robynlilyblack]

Don't you dare pull away

Sirius Black x fem! slytherin! reader 

Summary: Sirius Black and Y/n y/l/n have always been famous for their public showdowns, but what happens the two are forced to finally spend alone time together?

Warnings: swearing, mentions of wizarding slurs (eventual strange term of endearment), kissing and sex, enemies to lovers, steamy first kiss, getting together, fighting in the rain, kissing in the rain, lil sexual tension

A/n: 2.7k words, can be seen as a prequel to the my little deatheater series, thank you so much for the request, I hope you like it, enjoy! 

Navigation | Sirius Black Masterlist

“This is all your fault” Sirius grumbles as descends from the last tower, tossing another bag of collected rubbish onto the pile you both had created

You let out an empty laugh, poking your tongue into your cheek and shaking your head a little, refraining yourself from hurling a quaffle at him…again. If anything, it was entirely his fault. He was the one that decided to pull the most outrageous hail mary in all of quidditch, therefore any reaction you had was merely in defence of his insanity. Not that the professors agreed mind you, forcing you both to clean the entire pitch yourselves without magic

“I don’t know why you’re so pissy you guys still--oh no you don’t” you finally speak, only to be caught off guard by one of the bludgers acting up “Salzar will you… ughh” you huff, anger overcoming you as you attempt force the clasp of the trunk shut, even going so far as to climb onto of it yourself “Motherfu-ahh” you squeal as it bucks harder

Just as you’re about to get thrown off you, feel a weight beside you, bringing the clasp close enough to finally hook on and allow you to lock it. You breathe a sigh of relief, head leaning against the wood and for a moment, it’s peaceful. The bludger stops fighting, going dormant once more, leaving only the sound of your breathing and the soft patter of rain on the tarpaulin above you

“Thank you” the words escape your lips faster than you can stop them and your eyes widen rather comically

Dammit, you don’t even need to look at him; you can already feel that stupid smirk of his forming

“What was that darling? I didn’t quite catch that” 

You groan quietly “I said… ” you purse your lips before lifting yourself up, eyes meeting his “... thank you” you begrudgingly admit and his smirk deepens, the smug bastard

“Thank you?” he over exaggerates in faux awe, hand finding his chest, fingertips gently grazing his jersey “No… ” he shakes his head “... there’s no way our resident deatheater over here is thanking lil' old me for helping her” he coats it on annoyingly thick, egging you on as he always did

“Last time I thank you… for… what was that?” you attempt to rebuke but the sound of something ripping takes your attention away, gaze turning upward “Shit” your eyes blow wide at huge dip in the canopy above you, small drips of water already slipping through the beginnings of a tear

As you stand Sirius’ seems confused before his eyes follow your own, catching on quickly “Crap” he mutters, sliding off the chest “Come on!” he shouts, pulling you with haste towards the wall, shielding you from the impending cascade

… except it never comes.

Instead, you and he are held up against the wall. You peek with one eye to check what's happening, meeting Sirius doing the same, one hand flush against the wall behind you while the other is wrapped around your waist

You wrangle out of his grasp as you both realise the old awnings still got some life in her “Thank merlin you didn’t overreact” you tease him “Come on!” you mock, turning away for a moment and noticing the small trail of water from the edge of the tower and canopy beside you

His tongue pokes his inner cheek, head leaning against the wall before he pushes himself off, turning to face you “Oh fuck off” he tuts “We both thought it was gonna go...if anything you should be thanking me!” he lets out an exasperated breath, arms folding as his back finds the wall

“Thank you?” you look at him astonished, you couldn’t believe the nerve this boy had on him, though it did make splashing him with some of the dripping water less guilt worthy “Why the hell would I thank you?” you flick water at him again

“Oi!” he flinches, taken aback “What the--” he barely gets a word in as you continue

“I’m the one stuck here cleaning your mess!” you shout, flicking him a couple more times before backing down, taking pleasure in his pretty curls deflating into a drenched, frizzy state

“You better cut that out right…wait, my mess!” he lets out an annoyed ‘huh’ as your words finally register “I’m the one with the broken broom and detention for a month! Not to mention I’m missing my bloody victory party” he gestures towards the now hazy castle, obscured thanks to the relentless showers around you

“Well, if you had any real skill it wouldn’t have broken now, would it?!” you scrunch your nose at him, but your argument falls on deaf ears as his head begins to shake a little, trying to remove the strands of hair that have stuck to his face thanks to your watery combat “Plus it’s not like you wouldn’t already have detention… are… Sirius? Are you even listening to me? Black!!” you try to regain his attention but it remains solely on his hair “Oh for fucks sake” you grow tired of his failed attempts, swatting his hands away, gently pulling back the soaked pieces and tucking them behind his ears before stepping back “Better?” you ask crispy

“Yes. Much” he responds, falling in tune with your anger again “Ready whenever you are darling” his arms widen in a half bow, welcoming your attempts 

You stare at him “I…” you start before begging your brain to come up with some kind of clever quip “You're... umm… fuck” you whisper the last bit as you draw a blank, growing increasingly frustrated, more so as he realises that for the first time, you might just be stumped 

“Holy shit, you’ve got nothing” the smirk that grows on his, punchable, pretty, face is maddening “Oh you have no idea how happy I am right now”

“I… ugh… oh fuck you Black” you grab the nearest object, a forgotten wet scarf, and hurl it at him “Least I wasn’t disowned” even you know it’s a low blow, but as the man said, you really didn’t have anything

He manages to avoid it though, the wet fabric barely grazing his shoulder as he ducks “You're really clutching at straws now love” he half laughs at you “Hey!” he points as you chuck something else, taking a stride towards you after it misses as well

“Just admit it darling, you’ve lost!”

“As if!” you defend "I never have and never will lose to you!" you throw what can only be described as a half a decorative lion mane at him

He dodges once again, his eye wide your sheer determinism “Merlin, you’re so petty”

“I am not petty! you’re petty!” you scoff, moving towards him as well as you’ve ran out of safe objects to throw at him “Ugh, I could punch you right now” your fists ball, jerking at your sides as you attempt to control your rage

“Then why haven’t you!” he questions “Not like you haven’t got rough on the field before!” he waves his hands in the air, recalling the time you whacked him the face with your broom as you flew by him

“Because your face is pretty, and I rather like looking at it while I argue!” you admit, anger still in full swing

So is Sirius’ as he argues back “Yeah? Well I happen to think yours is rather cute when you’re all riled up at me!”

“Thank you!” 

“I mean it!”

“Good!” 

“Good!”

You’re faces are dangerously close now, and as your altercation falls into silence, your hard expressions soften for a moment, small half smiles and laughs escaping as the words shouted between you sink in

You thought he was pretty

And he thought you were cute

You and Sirius had always been known for your little battles, but you and he were in foreign territory now. Never before had one lasted so long, gotten you this fired up. Normally first years would run away and seniors would grab popcorn when you and he were in the same room, however without the screening eyes of your peers or authoritative figures something else was building, something new. No longer was it going to end with who got the biggest cheer, or last insult in before the professors broke you up, no, the game had changed now, and you both knew it

Your face hardens, the anger fading but the passion of the fight remains “You know you’d still have your precious broom if you’d accepted your loss” you start of soft, eyes looking deep into his, asking him if you want to walk this line with you

A smile quirks at the corner of his “Loss, darlin? Oh no we won…” his face darken back into it and you take that as a yes “...I think you need to get that pretty head of yours checked”

“We had it until you pulled what was quite frankly the most illegal fucking move in all of quidditch, and if you had been anything other than a perfect little lion this would be a completely different conversation!” you scoff “I can’t believe you call that a win, you bloody cheat!” you’re poking the bear now, pride overcoming you as you watch his eyes flare at the last word 

“Don’t you dare call me that… take that back right now” he takes the smallest step forward, your chests brushing “What I did out there was blimmin' brilliant and you know it!” he leans even closer “You’re just jealous you weren't smart enough to think of it first!”

“Jealous! Why the hell would be jealous of a cheat, cheat, cheat-itie, cheater?” you near bounce at each little quip, merlin were you having fun

He breathes out through his nose, warm air tickles your lips “I am not… ” he stops himself, almost like he’s fighting an internal battle “I’m… ugh” letting out a groan as he turns, stepping in a small circle as he backtracks “I wouldn’t have to pull some cheaty moves if you lot played fair for once” he backtracks, pointing at you, his breathing heavy now “Fricking snakes, the lot of ya” 

“For once?” you huff, slapping his finger away before flicking water in his face again, but this time it’s far more strategic “Thats a good one Mr Marauder” you flaunt your hands mockingly before do it again “Unlike you… Us. Snakes. Have. Standards!” you'll even admit you go a little overboard with the water this time, splashing him between every word before catching some in cupped hands and pouring it over him

He shakes his head like a dog after you finish “Stop!” he warns but it feels more like a challenge, now it’s his turn to ask you with his eyes; did you really want to step over this line? Enter this new world with him?

“Make me” you jeer, tone lower than normal as you accept his unspoken offer, hand sweeping through the water again 

This time however he catches your wrist, holding it in place, before retraining the other one as well, knowing you too well to leave himself unguarded on one front

“Do that one more time and you’ll regret it...”  he’s unbelievably close now "...darling"

“Or what, bloodtraitor” you hold his gaze, enticing him

Whatever it was that was building between the two of you was coming to its apex, and you’re both acutely aware of it. But it’s where, you suppose, this dangerous little dance of yours had always been leading

He leans in closer, letting your hand fall from his grasp, chests breathing in unison as his eyes refuse to leave yours for even a second “I think you know, little deatheater” a smirk threatens to play at his lips, godric was he loving this new frontier

And salzar, were you too, eyes unable to help stealing glancing at his lips then back to him “I do” you admit, bringing your lips up, letting them hover dangerously close to his own but as he smirks, taking this as his win, loving to close the gap, you retreat, whispering a flirty “Gotcha ya Siri” before stepping back, a playful smile on your face

His face is a picture, mouth agape, a light tinge of pink sprinkling his cheeks but within his shocked expression lies amusement, along with realisation that he lost your little game most spectacularly fashion

“You little minx” he breathes out quietly, tongue pushing his cheek out as he hangs his head, you had got him fair and square, and the boy couldn’t even be mad

“Yes!” you punch the air, beginning to laugh lightly, you don’t even try to come up with a witty remark as you celebrate, because you just bet the sirius black, prankster, playboy, at his own game

He raises his head after a few seconds to see you all proud of yourself, yet your pride is different than normal, if anything he swears it’s more genuine. He’s ready to accept defeat, to let you win, but he’s not ready to let you get away without finishing what you both just started, but just as he’s about to step forward it seems the canopy has finally given up, the fabric above you gives way, splitting in one foul swoop and releases a freezing torrent upon you

“What the…”

Your eyes are wide, mouth fallen open as you gasp loudly, feeling the cold water creep into each layer of your clothing, frozen in place as you look up at Sirius who remains dry, narrowly avoiding the same fate. He looks almost in as much shock, eyes looking up at the rather wide hole, then back towards you

Meeting his eyes, you finally let your smile break free “Shit!” you pout for a second “I just lost didn’t I?” you shout over the pitter patter, losing yourself in laughter as the rain pours around you

Sirius watches the scene with a similar smile, you had always been a wonder to him, this force of nature that drove him crazy, but in this moment all he felt was peace, and he was happy to lose, just this once with you

“Nah” he chuckles, letting the rain engulf him as he approaches, your laughter soothing as his finger hooks under your chin, bringing your gaze to his “We both lost” he tells you before guiding your lips upwards towards his, pausing just before they touch in tortuous bliss

The rain is a stark contrast to the moment, it’s unlike anything either of you have shared before, it’s quiet, soft, like you were old lovers finally finding one another again in another life. 

“Don’t you dare pull away” he whispers, lips tickling yours, hot breath warming you despite your numbing limbs

His fingers slide along your jaw slowly, becoming flush before floating upwards carding through the wisps of soaked hair framing your face. His eyes follow, flitting over your face, eyes filled with the kind of admiration one could only dream of and it’s exciting, new, the beginning of a long time coming

“Never again” you promise

He nudges his nose against your own before closing the gap, lips parting as they meet. It’s slow, meaningful, there’s no battle for control, just two souls hungry for one another after being starved for far too long. And it’s intoxicating, your hands finding his cotton of his jersey at his chest, the wet fabric forgotten as you pull him impossibly closer. Sirius feels drunk on your lips, the rements of your lipstick on his tongue as it slips through, hands wandering down to your hips, moving the fabric of your jumper upwards to reveal the skin underneath, eliciting a soft moan from your lips and causing the kiss to finally break

Both your chests heave as Sirius guides you backwards towards the wall and shelter again, turning you around last minute so your flush against it, hands very much still on your hips, thumbs pressing into the skin in soothing circles

“You know…” you catch your breath “...maybe losing isn’t so bad” you admit, throat tickling with light laughter

He joins you “It isn’t…” he agrees, one hand sliding out from below to cup the sweet plush of your cheek, bringing your eyes to his grey ones, heartwarming as you lean into his touch “...but only when it’s with you”

After that, every snide remark that was fired across the battlefield between you was now coated with something more intimate, perhaps they’d always been, but it would always be the kind of strange endearment only you and he could ever understand

My “Little deatheater”  

My “Bloodtraitor”

Thank you for reading ♡

[kissingdeadgirls]

In the dream they were sitting on the beach. He had made a fire from damp driftwood. The smoke made a black mark where it touched the tarpaulin, at the top, where it was stretched over their heads. The ash was still falling. It made them sick, but only ever for a little while. Anything that hurt them only ever hurt them for a little while. In the dream, she was sat next to a bundle of meat he'd cut, thighs mostly, for when they felt hungry, which happened rarely and always simultaneously. When it did happen they would be side by side, eating until their stomachs were sore. They would drink from the sea like dogs.

is this the first act of cannibalism?

[teratocrat]

it is always raining, in the Mercenary Estates, but Brazen Incandescence Howitzer calls out to her soldiers in that clarion voice of hers and they immediately spring into rehearsed, drilled motion to hammer stakes taller than you are into seams in the metal earth and drape a tarpaulin over them. other soldiers set to lining the perimeter of this makeshift tent with sandbags, or to sweeping water out with bundles of torn and stained uniforms, or to deploying what turns out to be a table on folding legs, setting it for five with machine-stamped tableware and a flickering arc-lamp whose housing is pierced with hundreds of tiny apertures that come together as an image of the great pyramid-city Lux, proud mercenary capital, floating gilded terraces fed on plunder. you scowl at it and then catch yourself and sit down to supper in the cold, damp, ill-lit darkness.

supper, as it turns out, is two scoops per person of a gritty and slightly sour nutrient sludge, and predictably Incandescence has none of it. seated to your left at the 'head' of the barely-oblong table, she mumbles through the paean of thanks to the Great Maker with the rest of you, and then nudges her tray over to her left, to the Sentinel Untenable Miracle Smoke seated across from you who applies herself to the forfeited portion with frankly disquieting vigor. the machinator to your right makes a couple abortive attempts at conversation, aimed at no one in particular, and then falls silent, corrugating the surface of his meal with a runcible spoon meditatively as if he might sculpt it into another machinator to take responsibility for the unpalatable fare he'd drawn from the veins of God-Who-Is-The-World. across from him the company's exceptor sits, anxiously glancing at Miracle Smoke out of the corner of her eye. sweat has slicked her brow, and her uniform, and beaded her medals and command-amulets. a tiny grain of sludge hits her jawline and sticks there; she flinches, and you think you see a single tear escape her custody and flee down her cheek. you are perversely glad that you're not the only one having a bad time here.

after the meal, Brazen Incandescence Howitzer waves a hand towards the larger tent pitched next to yours, and one of the soldiers excuses herself from the business of setting up bunks to bring you a steaming samovar stinking of Kamaki coffee and a small silver box of rat butter. you accept the cup Incandescence offers you, refusing the butter, and drink along with everyone else at the table, burning your tongue on the bitter, salty stimulant. Incandescence sighs at length and settles into her chair at the head of the table. Untenable Miracle Smoke reaches over and begins running her fingers through Incandescence's helical golden tresses; you're no inquisitor but you're pretty sure you're not meant to see Champions being this intimate with each other. you wish that the briefings you'd been given had been more helpful concerning the Sentinel and her relation to the Archon; was she bodyguard? leman? majordomo? assassin? all seemingly equally likely from the rumors you were told. knuckle-servos pause in their whirring as Miracle Smoke notices you staring; she grins at you, or at any rate bares her teeth, rows of them black as cast iron and pointed like the jaws of a rat trap.

[gimyeongbestboy]

Damn Samuel simps are thirsty huh (same but I wanna dom him so slightly different from the ones that want him to step on them) BUT I am here to ask for hcs or something where Johan falls for a girl that makes him hot meals. He needs the nutrients. Straight up one of the dudes that will fall for you if you feed him. One of the prime examples of "best way to a man's heart is his stomach".

Seaweed Soup and Curry

Pairing: Johan Seong x Reader

an: omg anon, your request has been in my ask box for so long! I kept you waiting for a long time lmao. I hope you enjoy this one! Also, I have not proof-read this

During a specific time of night, you always notice guy with brown hair looking through the small make shift window of the tarpaulin tent that houses your family's snack bar. Dressed in all black, his tall figure, blends in with the dim lighting outside the snack bar. You don't know how long you've been staring at him, but it seems like he noticed you staring at him before you can realize what you're doing. You tried calling out to him, but he walked away before you even got the chance to. For the following nights to come, this is how your meeting with him would take place.

Friday night comes, and you made sure to hide behind the tarpaulin snack bar waiting for the time when he usually comes around-- 10pm. You waited for a couple of minutes to pass before coming around, and sure enough, there he is standing in-front of the snack bar, a white dog sitting next to him. The dog noticed you, and gave a small bark towards your direction causing him to look towards you.

"Hey, I noticed you're always here during this time looking through. Aren't you going to go in? You're always lurking out here like weirdo." You raised your brow as you study his face in the dim lighting. You aren't going to lie, this guy looks quite attractive. The yellow lights of the street lights bounces off his brown hair making seem like he has a halo on his head. An angel on earth perhaps?

"How long have you been there?" His question snapped you out of the trance you were about to enter when admiring his face.

"Not long, I was hoping to catch you actually."

"And I'm the weirdo?"

"Hey! Any one in their right mind would wonder why some guy keeps staring, but never buy anything! Much less enter!"

"It's called window shopping, dumbass." His rebuttal got you confused. Who even window shops food? But before you can get the words out of your mouth, he had already walked away with his dog on his tail. You're not sure why, but you hoped that he would come again tomorrow night.

When the next night came, you waited for him outside in-front of the snack bar unlike last time, and sure enough, he came again at the same time. He paused in his tracks when he noticed you standing outside the snack bar with your hands inside your apron pocket.

Upon noticing his arrival you told him, "Follow me inside." You grabbed his wrist and pulled him into the snack bar. There were three tables inside and a few folding chairs around the tables. You pulled him directly towards an empty table made him sit. "We have rice and curry, fried chicken, tteokbokki and seaweed soup. What do you want to eat?"

"I'm not hungry." He said pointedly, looking you straight in the eyes with his dark pretty eyes. As he said this, his stomach growled loud enough to catch the attention of his dog.

"Just tell me what you want. My grandma figures that you're probably 'window shopping' outside because you're hungry." You said as you pointed towards your grandma sitting behind the counter. "Just tell me what you want before I change my mind."

"I don't want your charity." He said as he glimpsed at the food.

"Look here, uhhh..."

"Johan" Johan was unsure why he told you his name, but when he gave it out anyways. It was quite unusual for him. Often times, he would just stay quite and leave the other person hanging.

"Look here, Johan. Do I look like I got room to be charitable. I'm not doing this to be charitable. My grandma would probably kill me if I let you starve any further."

Johan smirked and said, "I wouldn't mind seeing that."

"Forget it, I'll just choose for you." You walked behind the counter where the small make shift kitchen is. Using the ingredients the prepped ingredients, you made a quick and easy curry and served it to him on top of hot white rice. "Here, don't worry about paying for it, and if you feel like you should pay, you can pay me by helping my grandma grocery shop."

"Thanks, but shouldn't you be helping your grandma though?" Johan asked as politely as he could.

"Well yeah, but I'm in school during the day, so I can't help grandma."

Johan nods as he silently ate the food that was served to him. Days turned into weeks and weeks turned into months. Soon enough it's been a year ever since Johan started helping out your grandma. Sometimes, he'd even help out setting up the stall or cleaning up at the end of the night. Ever since then you and Johan have gotten closer. You'd have banters all the time so much so, that some customers have said that the two of you banter like an old married couple. You would simply brush off the comment and say, "as if I'd marry him." The redness of your entire face kind of give away how flustered you are because of the comment.

Today is the weekend, and as you were setting up there was a guy wearing a tracksuit that came up to you handing you a package meant for Johan. A few hours later, Johan came with your grandma with the prepped ingredients for tonight's menu.

"Hey Johan, this came for you earlier. Some guy named Zack dropped it off earlier for you." You informed Johan as you handed him a neatly wrapped gift. "He said, 'Happy Birthday and come home.'"

Johan grabbed the gift from you and thanked you. Before he can go on about his day you asked, "How come you never said today is your birthday?"

"Why? Were you planning on getting me a gift?" He asked in a teasing voice.

"No, you ass." You rolled your eyes and get to cooking. Not long after, you came back to him with a small steaming hot pot filled with seaweed soup. Johan looked up at you in surprise as you set the soup down on the table in-front of him.

"It's seaweed soup. You probably haven't had some in a while ever since you left home, so I thought I'd make you some. Happy Birthday Johan." Johan felt a comforting warmth envelope him as he watches the small and gentle smile on your face. The smile may have been small, but it's the kind of smile that reaches your eyes-- making them shine despite the terrible lighting in the snack bar. Out of all the food you've made for him, curry is his favourite as well as the seaweed soup you've made for him on his birthday.