#black tarpaulin

[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 ♡

[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.

[hongjoongscafe]

Bloody Love...

Chapter: VII-Betrayal-

♠︎Pairing: yandere!king.jungkookxoc(coronis)

♠︎Genre: angst, smut, yandere, gore, dark romance, horror, creepy (dark fantasy).

♠︎Summary: "you happen to be in a world where wrong is right and right is wrong."

♠︎Word count: 3.6k+

♠︎Warning: murder, creepy, blow job, suffocation.

♠︎Note: lemme know if you wanna be added to the permanent or specific taglist!

♠︎Masterpost

♠︎Serieslist.

Questions. They were running in Coronis's head. Was it her fate? Or was it the people who made her life harder every day? The spiralling cycle of life was getting into her head. She felt a cyclone inside her nerves. The thunder in her chest.

They say that after a bad thing, something good happens. However, in her life, there was no word called good ever written even with mistakes, just never. Something in her life was twisted more than what she had realized. She had underestimated everything to the point where thinking for even a breath was heavier than a mountain.

Monsoon arrived. The days looked gloomier and nights looked creepier. Every gust of wind sent tremors down her spine. It felt like those winds were the whisperers who whispered tragedy winding its way to her footsteps.

The roads were muddy and reeked of old blood. The trees were hunched over, looking like ghouls that fed on dead bodies. Everything was covered with a stiff horror of the unspoken stories that were buried deep down in this realm of dead and gone.

All of this horror was doubled when the men who came to see Coronis for tying the knot started to get slaughtered day by day. They were not being hung on the pole but rather left rotting in the meadows and not as intense as the punishments were.

Nori has been acting weirdly. Especially after she visited her home. It was a couple of days later when she caught Edwin at her shack.

~

Coronis was walking back to her shack as the rain was pouring. It was getting stronger as she took each step. Her black straight gown was wet and the skirt was covered in mud halfway. Her pretty belly shoes were squeaking and were unrecognizable. Her kohl was running down her cheeks and her hair was sticking to her face. She tried her best to not let the stuff in her hands get dirty as she struggled to walk through the puddles.

As she reached back to her shack, she saw Nori standing outside, about to leave with a tarpaulin sheet above her head to at least keep her head covered from the unforgiving showers.

As Nori's eyes fell on Coronis, her expression changed and looked panicked. Coronis wanted to stop her and talk to her, however, the girl quickly bid goodbyes to her mother and stumbled away as quickly as she could.

Later that day when Coronis was sitting by the fireplace with a mug of hot chocolate in her hands with her mother who was knitting a sweater for Coronis, the girl asked her mother, “What was Nori doing here?”

Martha looked up with a tiny smile. “She said she was in the market and stopped by. We drank tea and talked a bit and then she left. I asked her to wait longer and meet you but she said she had things to take care of and then left.”

She nodded slowly and took a sip out of her warm drink. “What did you talk about?”

Martha stopped knitting, placed the material in the basket and faced Coronis. She took a second to formulate her words. “Honestly, Coro, she was not alright in my opinion. I have never seen her like the way she was acting today. She was… jittery and uncomfortable if I'm not wrong. But she was polite as ever. Greeted me with warmth and held a decent conversation. Though she kept looking at the door as if waiting for someone,” She said. “And we talked about things and she asked about you!”

Coronis's mind was boggling. “What did she say?”

“She asked about the people in our shack the other day,” she informed.

“And then what did you say?” she pressed further.

“I told her about us wanting to marry you somewhere better. She asked about Edwin and the other boys as well. She seemed to be quite interested in the chat. She wanted to know every single detail and joked about how she could keep one for herself as well. But I don't know, Coronis… I don't feel like she was fine. I think someday, you should go meet her. I don't see her with you as often either. Maybe she just needs a friend to talk to. And I am nowhere near that friend,” Martha shook her head as she thought other things to herself but did not voice them. “Anyway, Edwin will visit tomorrow. So, look prettier.”

~

She had seen Nori around. All the time she looked guilty of something. She would look but never make a move to talk to Coronis and when Coronis would try, she would run away as soon as possible. The situation between them was too intense.

Coronis felt guilty for doing whatever she did. Instead of running away, she could have talked and told Nori what her life had become, or better, shouldn't have tried to get into it. Her selfish motives were the reason why the poor girl was now looking like a long aching soul, running away from what she once found solace in.

She couldn't imagine what Nori was feeling. One day they both were lying in bed, kissing and hugging, and the other day, there was nothing left. The person Nori loved so dearly was not supposed to prepare for marriage and it wasn't even theirs.

It was Coronis and a third person.

How could Coronis even expect her to talk to her when she crushed the blooming flower of love under her feet?

Her teary eyes were looking for answers, silently. Waiting for Coronis to tell her story. But her mind was not ready. Nori knew they were not possible even if Coronis was not getting married because the two girls could never make it together.

Maybe another story was going to be left untold.

As Coronis was stepping closer to her shack, everything started to get quieter and quieter. The day was still young and paths were busy. No way it could be that silent the only thing she could hear was silence and the rain hitting the ground.

The closer she got, she saw people surrounding her shack. The crease between her eyebrows grew deeper as fast as her heart started to beat. She carefully squeezed her way in to see why people were standing there so quietly. Did something happen to her family? No, she pleaded silently as tears brimmed her eyes.

Her feet were met with dirty muddy water mixed with blood. She looked up and saw Draco, Onyx, and Martha standing there now looking at Coronis. A sigh of relief left her trembling lips. But it didn't stay for longer.

Because the moment her eyes fell down, in front of her shack, her heart dropped in her stomach. She couldn't see the face but the Golden curly hair was enough for her to know everything that was needed to know.

The tears in her eyes were pooling to the brim but not a single tear dared to roll down her cheeks. They were stuck there, just like Coronis, in shock. Her pupils shivered as the tremor of horror passed through her body.

The regret was seeping into her soul making her her own villain. Her heart refused to believe otherwise. The selfish mistake was now weighing her down as she fell to her knees. Her breath got stuck in her chest as she saw the lifeless body lying down there with deep slashes out in the open for everyone to see it like a drama.

The blood was still dripping out into the muddy water as the rain mercilessly poured onto his abused body. His skin from where the clothes were torn apart was pale and blue, drained of any blood in his veins.

Coronis crawled towards him. Holding his shoulders, she turned him around and that's when a piercing scream was heard in the crowd. Coronis had no conscience for her actions. She had no idea that the loud, heart-wrenching screams were leaving her mouth.

Her head was empty of any sane thought. The only thing that mattered at the moment was for Edwin to open his pretty gazy eyes and look into her dark orbs and tell her in his own words that it is going to be alright and that he is going to be alright. They will be alright. She wanted him to tell her that all the little dreams they dreamt would come true under the same roof where they were going to begin their new life.

“Why?!” she screamed again. “Why? What did he do?!” she kept repeating. “Please give me back my Edwin! I'll do anything for him. Please give him his life back!” she begged. She cried and cried.

She didn't care about the mud or the rain soaking her. The only thing she kept hearing was her inner voice asking her how much she could be thoughtless and selfish.

How many more dying souls did she need to see before knowing that her single action could lead to some genuine man’s life? Her previous proposals were murdered but they were not morally sane men at all. They deserved worse than what they got.

However, Edwin was a man of words and class. He was a gentleman every woman desired in their life. The way he talked was out of this world. His poetic essence was never enough and the bubble of safe emotion was his walking definition. No one was like him.

Edwin was the shade of the tree on the hottest summer afternoon. His voice was a mellow music in the midst of spring. His eyes were a warm blanket on the coldest winter night. His smile was the twinge of spice in the autumn evening. He was perfect as is. His way of living life was simple and eventful. He craved to make a difference in the world with his kindness. He found the luxuries in the smallest things and cherished them till he could remember them.

He was once a man full of life and now a lifeless Angel. Some evil spirit took his golden wings away and left him dead in the footsteps of his future.

Nobody said a thing. They stayed and listened. Nobody tried to console the hurting being on the ground holding her soon-to-be husband tightly as she held him and cried on his slashed chest.

Coronis looked up as she felt a burning glare piercing her skull. There stood Nori. Her eyes were bloodshot and her cheeks were red. No emotions of love, grief, shock, or any feelings were on her face. She stood there numb and blank looking at Coronis, thinking Lord knows what. She had an almost grim face and her skirt had red splotchy patches as if it was blood. Again, who knows what she has been up to?

Coronis was about to say something to her but stopped when she saw Nori slowly backing out. She took steps backwards and slowly turned around all while looking deep into Coronis's eyes. It felt like hours before she got lost in the crowd.

That was the moment when she knew she messed up.

She was left on the ground, bawling her eyes out, with a man with whom she saw herself smiling and laughing through thick and thin. With the man made out of jewels, his heart now felt like a cold diamond.

And there she realized… she lost…

The rivers of tears stopped and whimpers quietened down. Her face depressed down in misery as the reality of her fate washed over her.

It was she who created these fates of chaos, Coronis was. Her actions became the numbness of one and the death of another.

She looked down at the man and slowly laid her head on his cold, still heart as the acceptance shook her body, trying to not accept but her brain knew better than that.

Love, lust, hate, infatuation… feelings. These are trouble to get into. It felt like all of these emotions burned Coronis like a fire in the forest or perhaps killed her like an overdose of drugs.

Her body trembled like an addict wanting that dose of drug. As if she was possessed by a demon. The catch was that she was indeed an addict and was possessed by a demon of her own. Of the people she killed without knowing.

She was indeed lost…

…

The hands of the maids trembled as if they saw a ghost. Their heads lowered painfully to the point their chins were stuck on their chests as they slowly removed every single piece of clothing from His Highness's body.

The scent of roses and vanilla fogged around them as the water in a gigantic floor bathtub filled with water and milk. The petals of the black rose looked pretty on the milky water.

The last piece of his clothes was gone. There he stood. All naked in his glory. His broad shoulders, tight muscles, hard chest, perfectly carved abs, his biceps looked ripped, and his thick thighs highlighted every hard part.

Along with that, his long, fat cock stood proudly, hard and filled with pride. His thick vein on the underside throbbed harder than a racing heart. His veins were thick and poking out, and his pretty mushroom head looked angry and red in need of it to be touched and abused.

However, his jaw was clenching and a frown was settled between his eyebrows and on the chin. And his brain was going back to the picture of Coronis standing in her shack.

“Jimin-ah,” his hoarse voice echoed in the bath.

Jimin’s eyes met with the back of his Lord. “Yes, my lord?”

“My little birdy was a bad girl,” His Highness shook his head and stepped in front of a kneeling woman. “She was not wearing the necklace I gave her. I asked her to always wear it. How could she not listen to me?” He fisted that woman’s hair and shoved his hard cock down her throat with a hum.

The boy looked at the scene and hesitated before saying something. “Perhaps it was hidden under her dress,” he stuttered.

A scoff left the lord’s mouth. “Hidden under her dress, you say?” He bobbed the head of the woman as if she was a toy. Well, for him she was indeed just a filthy toy. “I could see her fucking breast crease through her black gown and you say ‘Perhaps it was hidden under her dress’” he snapped.

The anger boiled inside his chest. And he let it out on the poor woman who had no choice but to take his cock, trying not to gag at the taste of alcohol that lingered in his precum. He had started to drink more alcohol than before. His sweet taste now turned bitter. Her nails dug into her thighs to keep her going. She felt lightheaded.

Jimin gulped and cleared his throat, “My apologies, my lord… I didn't see her Highness. I was merely guarding you just how you prefer.”

Hearing this, a side smile stretched on The Lord's lips. “No wonder why you are my favourite, Jimin-ah,” he rasped. “You always keep things in your mind and act like a loyal bitch,” he sighed, “if I had an eye for a man, I would fuck your holes and fill them up. But alas! It's not for this life.” He grunted as he fucked her mouth harder and faster. The woman could not breathe properly but she did not say a word knowing well enough what he could do if she did not do what he wanted. She just kept on digging her nails into her thighs. Her eyes started to roll back and black spots blurred her vision. The rest of the women kept their heads hung low. “It's about time I punish her.”

With that, he came down her throat with a grunt and pushed her back. She lay down there unconscious, cum staining her mouth. No one dared to treat the woman but scurried into the bath as he stepped into it.

His Highness rested his back against the warm dark marble and spread his arms. His body relaxed and his muscles loosened. He sighed as the hands of his maids started to clean him. “Do me a favour, Jimin-ah. Call the ministers and the headguards in the court. Tell them I called an emergency court.”

He cracked his neck and relaxed, feeling the hands washing him. And thinking about how he only wanted one pair of hands on him sooner.

“Wait for me, little birdy. Wait for the punishment that is going to come your way…”

…

“Coronis, my love,” Martha called her daughter as she looked outside from her window with a black face but a thousand emotions in those dull eyes.

It had been days since Edwin passed away. Coronis stopped speaking and rarely came out of her slot. She wouldn't eat more than two bites of rice. Her cheeks hollowed out and became paler.

Her long black locks were tangled just like her fate. Her inner turmoil disrupted her sanity. There was none to begin with… one of the things that came with living in this realm— no sanity.

“Can you go out, honey? We are short on some stuff. Can you get it for me?” Martha just wanted her daughter back. She thought maybe if she went outside, she would feel different and at least come out of her slot.

Coronis slowly turned her face towards her mother and looked at her old wrinkly face. Her mother's eyes had a subtle shiver in them. It wouldn't be wise to let her go outside at this age and the muddy roads might make her fall.

She nodded slowly and stood up, brushing her hair a bit back. “What do you want?” she asked.

Martha sighed and let her know the necessities.

Heading out, Coronis walked straight to the shop. Her body swung with each step. Everything was rotten around her. The people, the animals, the village, the houses, herself… everything. Everything was rotten just how she felt inside.

She wondered if she would ever be free from this rotten fate. A scoff bubbled in her throat. She cursed inside and thought how impossible it sounded. Free. Never, that would never happen. It almost sounded humorlessly funny.

From the corner of her eye, she saw someone familiar. She looked to her side and saw Nori going somewhere. “Nori!”

Nori looked and froze for a moment and tried to walk away but Coronis was quick to catch up with her and pull her by her arm. “Nori, please talk to me.”

The girl scrunched up her nose, “what do you want from me, Coronis?”

Coronis flinched at how she spat her name. “Please, just one talk,” the dark-haired girl begged.

Nori sighed and got tugged by Coronis towards a narrow alleyway, away from the people. There she looked at Coronis and how terrible she had become. Her eyes lost hope and were dead.

“Nori, I should have told you everything before,” Coronis whispered.

Nori felt like her blood was boiling. “Tell what? That you were fucking another man while fucking me too?! Is that what you should have told me before?! Are you fucking dumb, Coronis? I loved you and you do this to me,” she raised her voice. She showed no remorse for Coronis's loss or her soundness. However, the feelings washed over her. Her eyes burned with feelings and love she hid behind them. “Why would you do me like this? Hm? How could you fuck around like this, hurting people?” she lowered her voice.

“It is not like that, Nori. I would never do this to you,” she whispered.

“But you did,” Nori said in a barely audible voice and held Coronis's arms. “You broke my heart like it was worth nothing. You- you could have just told me that you liked someone else and I would have been out of your hair,” she sniffed.

Coronis shook her head, “my hands are tied, Nori. I- I’m just a puppet. You see these?” she opened her pale hands and showed her, “These have nothing in them. These lines are handled by someone else and it's not even God.”

“You could have said something,” Nori held her tightly. “I could have loved you a little less.”

“I could have…” Coronis nodded and let her tears fall.

“But you chose to hurt me more…” Nori sadly smiled.

Before Coronis could say something. The clops of the royal horses echoed and slowly came close to the alleyway and stopped at the end.

Coronis’s breath hitched seeing those dark, sharp, and calculating eyes that pierced her soul while staring into her eyes.

The King got down from his horse and slowly stepped forward. Nori looked between the two, not knowing what was going on. But she didn't dare to open her mouth and kept her head lower.

The King stood right in front of Coronis. With the back of his hand, he wiped off the tears and ran his thumb lightly over her lower lip and pulled it down. His hand moved down to her neck and felt around… but nothing.

His sharp eyes snapped back into hers. Under his mask, a deadly smirk formed. “You broke the order, my little birdy,” his voice was deeper and viscous. “You must get punished now.”

Coronis shook her head furiously as she felt shivers of horror travelling her body head to toe. “No,” she whispered. Her body was covered in sweat in no time as she felt her heart picking up pace. It was the feeling that ran over her that this was the end. This was the end of the hope.

“No, my love. You must know what it costs for your actions. For your betrayal.”

…..

Sanaa’s note:

The behaviour of all the characters is visualized.

Taglist:

@veneziamadness @cheline @sansmilkbread @jayb17 @constantlydelulusional @8tinytings @tea4sykes @chimmisbae;

@darkuni63 @mageprincess7 @whipwhoops @ackercute @ane102 @kimseokjinsmirror1233 @unhingedgf @jungkooks21 @namjoonscrabjuice @yluv-damara-13 @jksgirlhere @lavenderymoons @passionandsuga @posionapple24 @blueberry711 @shawtylilsalty @gukiebaby @vantelover07 @douknowbts @andioppsworld @xicanacorpse @ttanniett @koohrs

Have a nice day/night💓

[sunny44]

I will always love you

Pairing: Pierre Gasly x dead!girlfriend

Warnings: mentions of death, mentions of a car accident, mourning, hospital, morgue, cemetery and other things related to death.

Summary: It’s Pierre’s birthday and he’s ready to celebrate after a long day of simulator, but that day ends up in horrible way.

February 7, 2019.

My birthday.

I've never been as excited to celebrate a birthday as I am this year.

It was the first time that my girlfriend Y/n would be celebrating with me, since almost every year I’m racing and she can’t come to wherever I am.

Unfortunately I had to spend the day in the simulator but it was finally over and I was on my way home when I saw that she was calling me.

"Hi love, I know I shouldn't be talking on the phone and driving but..."

"I'm sorry, are you related to Miss Y/n Y/l/n?"

"Yes, she's my girlfriend, who's this?" I ask strangely.

"This is the hospital and Miss Y/N has been in a serious car accident."

"What? Is she all right?" I ask in despair.

"I'm sorry but I can't give you this kind of information on my cell phone, please if you could come over now."

"I'll be right there."

I sped up as much as I could and when I got there I saw her mother crying desperately, clinging to her father who was trying his best to hold back his tears.

"No." I said and they looked at me and I fell to my knees on the floor completely unresponsive.

...

"Excuse me." A nurse appeared. "I'm sorry to have to do this right now but we need someone to recognize the body."

"I can't, I can't do that." Her mother started crying in despair again.

"Pierre." Her father called out to me and I closed my eyes tightly, knowing what was coming next. "I know it's too much to ask and that because of our relationship I don't have the right to ask you for anything, but please, can you do this for us?”

"I'll do it." I say without looking at him and stand up following the nurse.

Her parents hated me, especially her father.

He used to say that I didn't deserve his daughter, I thought that was just at first since we know how fathers are with their daughters but he's hated me since he first met me and has always made a point of making his feelings for me clear.

He loved F1 until his daughter fall in love with one, so I became the inconsequential boyfriend who drove a car in circles and that I would only hurt her and that if I died on the track doing something so stupid it was just to make her suffer, leaving her to mourn a guy who didn't deserve his daughter.

When we arrived at the morgue, I stood in front of the glass window and saw only a body completely covered by a black thing, the coroner was in the room waiting for me to say yes so she could show it to me. I just nodded and she lifted the tarpaulin to show me. Tears instantly started rolling down my eyes, there she was, with pale skin, her face lifeless and her skin all bruised.

I didn't even have to say anything, I think my cry echoing through the cold, empty room said it all.

And not being able to stand it any longer, I just left and went back to where her parents were, who also knew what it meant just by seeing me.

"I'm sorry Pierre, I'm sorry for everything that happened between us."

"There's no point now." I said, shushing him. "I loved your daughter like I've never loved anyone else in my life, I always treated her like a queen and the only things I ever heard from you were criticisms. You don't know how many times your daughter cried on my lap because her father didn't even pretend to like me, so no, I won't accept your apologies right now. Because now that she's gone you feel guilty, you feel guilty because she died the way you said that it would happen to me. Ironic, isn't it?"

Having said that, I left and the last time I saw them was on the day of the funeral and then never again.

...

February 7th, 2023.

My birthday.

Another one I won't be celebrating.

Since February 7, 2019, I've never celebrated it. It never made sense for me to celebrate my life when it was actually gone.

"Mate, you have to celebrate your birthday, let's go out and drink, I’ll pay." Charles said.

"I told you I don't want to." I replied for the thousandth time.

"You have to stop not wanting to do anything every year, you have to enjoy your life."

"I've already said no, I don't want to go out and celebrate something that no longer makes sense." He doesn’t say anything. "It doesn't seem right to go out and celebrate my life when someone I loved has been taken away from me in the same day."

"I know you miss her and that her death has left a lot of marks on you and even worse that it happened on your birthday but she wouldn't want you to live the rest of your life in mourning."

"I can't, I can't celebrate, okay?" Charles sighs, seeing that I'm crying. "So please stop asking."

"It's okay." He hugged me and I collapsed.

...

I entered the cemetery with her favorite flowers and as I got closer I saw her parents, it had been years since I last saw them in the funeral.

"Pierre." Her father said as soon as he saw me standing there.

"Mr. Y/l/n."

"How long." Now her mother says.

"A long time." I follow without wanting to talk to them too much. "I'll be back in a little while."

"No need, we've been here for a while and we'll leave you alone." Her father says, taking her mother's hand. "Happy birthday."

"Without the happy part but thank you." He gives a half-smile and they leave.

I sat down in front of her grave and left the flowers there.

"Hi, my love." I could already feel the tears forming in my eyes. "It's been a while since I last came here. I feel like every time I come here it's like I lose you a little bit more.

I've been thinking lately about what Charles said and it's taken me a while to accept that he was right, I know I'll never get over you because I'm sure you were and still are the love of my life but I've deprived myself of so many things for so long that I feel like all I do is work and go home and I know that as well as being unhealthy you wouldn't want me to live like that, you'd want me to be happy again, to live a happy life and try to find love again. Charles has insisted every year that we have to go out to celebrate my birthday but I never do, I never do because it feels wrong but I'm going to celebrate today, I'm going to celebrate my life and remember yours."

I got up and left a kiss on the headstone.

"I loved you yesterday, I love you today and I will love you till the day I die." I smiled and left, picking up my cell phone.

"Hey, man." Charles says as soon as he answers his cell phone.

"Where are we celebrating today?"

[art-that-fucks-you-up-tournament]

Behold, a bracket!

Text form below the cut because trying to copy all the 256 into the alt text sounded.... horrifying. Warning for 128 matchups, seriously, this list is long, and so I've avoided adding the artists until the polls.

a note: the pinned post has started misbehaving, so only open polls will be directly linked. closed polls instead have the results page linked in the set header, all the polls are linked from there

Set 1

The Lament for Icarus (Miao He) vs The Lament for Icarus (Herbert Draper)

The angel came to me in a fever hallucination, perched upon my bed as I returned from the bathroom. vs Sweet Brown Snail

Figures vs A Philosopher Lecturing on the Orrery

Happy Shoppers vs Hubble Deep Field

Lovers Painting vs Bath Curtain

Dr. Helen Taussig vs Une Martyre

Orangoutang étranglant un sauvage de Bornéo (Orangutan strangling a Borneo savage) vs Can’t Help Myself

Rape vs Technicolor Hiroshima

Set 2

A Walk at Dusk vs Based on “Autoportrait with the Model” by Maria-Rayevska Ivanova

Diary Page vs Les Jours Gigantesques (The Titanic Days)

Dead of Night vs You Won't

Christina's World vs Bobby

Untitled (I’m Turning Into A Specter Before Your Very Eyes And I’m Going To Haunt You) vs Two Sisters (On the Terrace)

Sharecropper vs Lustmord

The Parca and the Angel of Death vs Untitled (Zdzisław Beksiński)

Stress vs The Fallen Angel

Set 3

Device to Root Out Evil vs Travelling Light

Diana vs Fifty Days at Iliam: The Fire that Consumes All before It

The Plains, from Memory vs Exotic Bodies

Doubting Thomas vs Self-Portrait in the Bathroom Mirror

Empty Nest vs Somebody Fell From Aloft

Anguish vs If I Died

Cat in Obsolete Bath vs You're Not Boring Anymore

Salvator Mundi (Savior of the World) vs Untitled (billboard of an empty unmade bed)

Set 4

There Will Be No Miracles Here vs Symphony of the Sixth Blast Furnace

Fox Hunt vs Tarpaulin

Khajuraho Group of Monuments vs Ranakpur Jain Temple

ปราสาทสัจธรรม (The Sanctuary of Truth) vs Grande Panorama de Lisboa

Heroic Head of Pierre de Wissant, One of the Burghers of Calais vs The Weather

The Daughters of Edward Darley Boit vs If this is art

Statue of Vincent and Theo van Gogh vs Jeanne d’Arc écoutant les voix (Joan of Arc listening to the Voices)

Fountain vs Judith Slaying Holofernes

Set 5

Cueva de las Manos (Cave of Hands) vs Cave of El Castillo

Chauvet Cave Bear vs Uffington White Horse

Laocoön and His Sons vs Winged Victory of Samothrace

Crouching Aphrodite vs Statue of Taweret

Guardian Figure vs Kūya-Shonin (Saint Kuya)

Ancient Greek doll vs Arena #7 (Bears)

Enbu (炎舞) (Dancing in the Flames) vs Yearning Shadows

Belfast to Byzantium vs Freedom

Set 6

The Kama Sutra of Vatsyayan vs Portraits

The Blood Mirror vs Nighthawks

Electric Fan (Feel it Motherfuckers): Only Unclaimed Item from the Stephen Earabino Estate vs "Untitled" (Portrait of Ross in L.A.)

Lady Agnew of Lochnaw vs Forgotten Dreams

Saint Bride vs Pixeles (a group of 9 works)

War Pieta vs The Sunset

The Handmaidens of Sivawara Preparing the Sacred Bull at Tanjore for a Festival vs Ajax and Cassandra

Nāve (Death) vs Abstraction

Set 7

Yes vs Meeting on the Turret Stair

Hacked to Death II vs Stańczyk

Closeness Lines Over Time vs Voice of Fire

The Maple Trees at Mama, the Tekona Shrine and Tsugihashi Bridge vs Portrait of Sir Thomas More

Survival Series: In a Dream You Saw a Way vs Takiyasha the Witch and the Skeleton Spectre

Death blowing bubbles vs The Kitchen Table Series

Painting 1946 vs In the Grip of Winter

Untitled (Black and Gray) vs NAMES Project AIDS Memorial Quilt

Set 8

Blue Plate Special vs Red Cedar

Palace of Fine Arts vs Mosque–Cathedral of Córdoba

Le Château des Pyrénées (The Castle of the Pyrenees) vs Susanna and the Elders, Restored - X-Ray

Moby Dick vs Viva la Vida, Watermelons

Venus Envy Chapter One (Of the First Holy Communion Moments Before the End) vs how to look at art

St. Sebastian vs Untitled #12

Carroña vs The invincible one

Untitled (Two Dogs) vs The Dog

SECOND HALF

Set 9

David (Donatello) vs David (Michelangelo)

The Other Side vs The Temptation of St. Jerome

Seated Woman with Bent Knees vs Starry Night

Headdress - Shadae vs Untitled for the Image Flow's Queer Conscience exhibit

Woman with Dead Child (Frau mit totem Kind) vs Les Amants (The Lovers)

Siroče na majčinom grobu (Orphan on Mother's Grave) vs You Make My World a Better Place to Find

Fighting Against SARS Memorial Architectural Scene (弘揚抗疫精神建築景觀) vs Fallingwater

Resting vs The Hull

Set 10

Olive Trees vs Worship

Glow vs Wheatfield with Crows

Study after Velázquez's Portrait of Pope Innocent X vs Untitled (He Plays Very Badly)

D.I.Y. by John Wiswell vs The Tragedy

Judith and the Head of Holofernes vs Beethovenfries (Beethoven Frieze)

The Memory of Me (How Could I Forget) vs oh god i had a really big epiphany about love and personhood but i’m too drunk for words

I am happy because everyone loves me vs 瀕危形態 (Endangered Forms)

Three Scaffolders vs Ivan the Terrible and His Son Ivan

Set 11

San Giorgio Maggiore at Dusk vs Water-Lilies, Reflection of a Weeping Willow

The Grief of the Pasha vs Monolith in Vigeland Sculpture Park

Passion vs Space Diner

Hamlet and Ophelia vs Two Earthlings

Ellen Terry as Lady Macbeth vs Seer Bonnets

Photograph from "SNAP OSAKA" Collection vs Clytemnestra after the Murder

“Untitled” (Perfect Lovers) vs The Lovers (TIE)

Kedai Ubat Jenun vs Orange Store Front

Set 12

The Apotheosis of War vs Portrait of the Dancer Aleksandr Sakharov

Julie Manet vs Mouth

The Icebergs vs Kaleidoscope Cats III

Maman vs Caza Nocturna (Night Hunt)

The Book of Kells Folio 188r: Luke carpet page vs Ardagh Chalice

Yusuf and Zulaikha vs Dome of the Rock mosaics

Rowan Leaves and Hole vs Untitled (prisonhannibal)

Le Désespéré (The Desperate Man) vs The Dedication

Set 13

Deimos vs Dog and Bridge

The Mocking of Christ vs Prudence

The Broken Column vs Siberian Ice Maiden shoulder tattoo

Transi de René de Chalon (Cadaver Tomb of René of Chalon) vs Head of Christ

The Day vs Spirit of Haida Gwaii

Eleanor Boathouse at Park 571 vs Jatiya Sangsad Bhaban জাতীয় সংসদ ভবন (National Parliament House)

Juventud de Baco (Bacchus Youth) vs Barges on the Seine

Oath of the Horattii closeup vs Visit hos Excentrisk Dam (Visit to an eccentric lady)

Set 14

Christ Crucified (With Donor) vs St. Francis

Thunder Raining Poison vs Piazza d'Italia

The Grove vs Among the Waves

Pintura Mural de Alarcón vs Sagrada Família stained-glass windows

Noonday Heat vs La Dame à la licorne (The Lady and The Unicorn)

Matroser i Gröna Lund (Sailors in Gröna Lund) vs Gielda Plakatu

Reply of the Zaporozhian Cossacks vs The Garden of Earthly Delights

Kuoleman puutarha (The Garden of Death) vs Haavoittunut enkeli (The Wounded Angel)

Set 15

i've wasted a lifetime pretending to be me vs da oracle

minus #37 vs Panel from Fun Home

Excerpt from illustrated edition of The Rime of the Ancient Mariner vs La Mort de Marat (The Death of Marat)

The Veil vs Düsseldorf 4 (Museum Kunst Palast)

Capriccio vs Zodiac calendar for La Plume

The official imperial portrait of empress dowager Cixi vs José y Maria

Blooming Lilacs vs Lágrimas De Sangre (Tears of Blood)

An Interlude vs Boy Staring at an Apparition

Set 16

Mermer Waiskeder: Stories of the Moving Tide vs The Gran Hotel Ciudad de México Art Nouveau interior

Unfinished Painting vs To Arms!

Memorial to a Marriage vs The Island

Dropping a Han Dynasty Urn vs A Few Small Nips

Saturn Devouring His Son vs Guernica

Fairy Princesses vs Lamentation over the Dead Christ

Mummy with An Inserted Panel Portrait of a Youth vs Little Girl Looking Downstairs at Christmas Party

Agnus vs The Cup Of His Murders Is Flowing Over And In His Coat Shall Be Many Curses

[tarpaulinscover12]

Tarpaulin Something beyond a Cover A Thorough Aide

Tarpaulins Sheeting, regularly known as canvas, is a pervasive and flexible material utilized across different ventures and for various applications. While its essential capability is to give assurance from the components, tarpaulin’s purposes stretch out a long ways past simple inclusion. In this far reaching guide, we investigate the universe of tarpaulin, revealing insight into its different…

[baathos]

There's something about facing long term, chronic illness and disability, at least with my pretty common mix of traumas and tendencies, that makes it easier to dismiss the slow, aching trauma of it in the face of the sharper struggles of people in your life.

It is both too big and made up of too many small things to grapple with and explain. You might be very used to putting your feelings and needs aside. You might be very used to having your feelings and needs dismissed. You might be used to a deep sense of responsibility for other people's emotions and wellbeing. You might have built up, slowly and desperately, scaffolding around your mind and body to shore up all your crumbling stones and mouldy beams. It's mostly watertight, and not getting much worse fast. It'll hold for now, it'll hold for now, it'll hold for now.

Your friend's cracked window or broken fridge or or or or any other sharp immediate crisis takes precedent.

And it feels good? It feels like getting out of the ruin of your health and quality of life and visiting someone else's house and tidying up a bit or taping up some cardboard and calling the landlord. There might be longer term structural stuff to address, the fridge might be broken because of the electronics or the window might be cracking because of structural pressure but the immediate problem is solved, it's fixed, everyone is happy and says thank you.

And once upon a time you were that friend, but then the windows kept cracking and the crises piled up and the electronics kept breaking things and the landlord cut corners when they put the wiring in and there's a missing structural support beam and and and

You find yourself gesturing at this ruin, made watertight and kept standing by scaffolding and tarpaulins and seemingly randomly placed planks of wood and it's so far from a home and you've kicked the can so far down the road and the scaffolding is starting to warp and rot and rust and the tarpaulins have holes and there are buckets around your bed and blooming black and white on all your clothes. You gesture wordlessly because words cannot be enough. There's no explaining yourself that explains well enough the depth of the damage or the cost of it's repair or how utterly out of your depth you feel. It's not an emergency. It's not a crisis. It's the rest of your life and the only home you can build. The people who understand can't help and the people who can help can't seem to understand.

[picturesofthegoneworlds]

The sands are repetitive, despite Laudna's best efforts to catalogue the differences – trying to allow each grain to wear its own hue, oil-slick petrol rainbow under the mid-day sun, rippled from sandstorm residue and snakes’ belly dancing, heat hazing horizon.

But it all replicates, barren, bleak, another blister to the sole from a charcoaled burn on Exandria’s surface.

Imogen's focus is elsewhere, on staving off exhaustion. She’s quiet. It leaves Laudna with too much mind to paint herself in the tattered black skirt guise of the desert.

Imogen stops for the fourth time in a short amount of it, hand to her hip retrieving then removing the cork stopper from her waterskin with her teeth before dabbing its contents onto her neckerchief, patting it over the exposed skin of her chest and forehead before she ties it back around her neck, bright yellow hue ambered.

Laudna has been studying. Deciphering what is adult human behaviour and what is Imogen. Comparing quirks against necessity, can argue the case for accommodating, for blending in.

Their pace has been slower than usual, much slower, and it must only be early afternoon, but Imogen’s waterskin is almost drained, and of course, Laudna will happily give Imogen her own supply, undoubtedly, but she fears that there is a quite likely reality where even double her ration will not be enough, is unsure of the amount of days travel ahead thanks to empty horizons.

“It’s too much, isn’t it?”

“huh?” Imogen pushes her hair off of her forehead with the heel of her palm, revealing all of the perspiration congregating at the roots of her hairline, percolating at her temples.

“The heat…”

Just a moment later and she is ruffling her fingertips through the front of her scalp, causing the lengths of lilac locks to cascade back over her forehead and cover more of her face from the sun.

“I can’t lie - I’ve been fantasizin’ about bein’ back in that forest during the rainstorm.”

That forest where Imogen had built them a shelter, had dried Laudna out, and as her thanks she had rouged Imogen’s lips with elf cup stain that her ichor blighted, answered her questions as if her intricacies were reward enough-

Imogen’s eyes squint from the bright light, or possibly the salty sweat that has gathered in the corners of them – probably both.

“Perhaps we should be travelling in the night and early morning. Let’s rest and try to make cover.”

Imogen shifts her weight between her feet, stepping from one onto the other, dancing on hot coals.

“I won’t say no.”

Laudna is just as grateful for that placation as she was for the one that had lead her finger to the swell of Imogen’s lip, maybe more. 

The sand is hot. The sand is hot so Imogen can’t stay still. The sand is so hot that the heat transfers through the soles of her shoes, so it must transfer through her dress, her shorts, through the pile of their blanket. Laudna gathers sticks, branches, has no need for kindling. Laudna gathers tangled brush and bark from dead wood and dried up shrubs and weaves them all together like a nest, instinct maternal, infertile, basket weaver, furnishings gathered in the back of a butcher’s cart. They build it together (the shelter, not a nest, not a basket, not a home), Laudna arranging the twigs like plaited threshing and Imogen driving longer, more substantial branches into the ground, energy exerting, muscle and flesh sculpture shadows exaggerated under sun four posts for canopy tarpaulin and perspiring profusely and Laudna wishes that maybe her lungs could hold a much greater capacity, that she could walk the two of them, Imogen wrapped under arm-awning’ed shade of her cloak and fanned by cold breaths like a draught from under a snow-capped cabin’s door.

[harrowharks-iliac-crest]

John 20:8

The title obviously suggests that this has to do with John Gaius, and it seems long, long ago, in the time before the resurrection, in the time before any of the world we know from the other books were built.

He said: We just wanted to save you. You were so sick. He said, It was me and A— and M— at the start.

Speaking to Alecto - she was sick before John "resurrected" her.

A-- Augustine, M-- Mercymorn. All of the only-letters in this are the old Lyctors, from before they were Lyctors; C is most likely Cytherea, G is Gideon.

I don't understand a lot of this, but they were preparing for some imminent catastrophe - preparing to cryofreeze eleven billion humans, planning to get everyone out, into space, trying to convince the rich people to fund this so they could get everyone out alive. No mention of necromancy here - science this, science that. No magic yet.

M— said that she didn’t like it, she smelled a rat, and you know what I said? You know what I told her? I said, Don’t let it get to you and I said, Don’t get paranoid!

Mercymorn was always right to be paranoid.

I always kind of assumed that the Lyctors joined with John after the resurrection, but it seems they were around long before, before any of them even knew about necromancy. Before any of them became Lyctors.

This has proven me wrong so far, if - if this is what really happened.

It is a dream, it is John telling a story, so we don't know how reliable this is. I'll cautiously believe it, for now.

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.

This, now, is different; after the cryo project, after the resurrection.

You know the worst part? She cried. She and A— both cried. In each other’s arms, like babies. They were so fucking scared. And I was right there, and I couldn’t do piss. Everything I was and everything I had done, and I couldn’t do a damned thing.

Mercy and Augustine didn't start out hating each other. I'd suspected this before. They held each other like children, even when Mercy tried to kill the Emperor, like children who'd woken up from a nightmare. They went through all of this together.

I'm having feelings about these two.

She said: When is the part where you hurt me? He said: Soon. It’s coming up. She said: I still love you. And in the dream he rubbed his temple with his thumb and said: “You always say that, Harrowhark.”

A callback to the poem at the start -

But when he addresses her, he calls her Harrowhark.

Harrow's last scene in HtN was her lying down in Alecto's tomb. Is she in Alecto's body, dreaming Alecto's memories?

That's the best theory I have for this right now.

Overall, a great start. I love that I have some idea of what's going on, unlike at the start of HtN, but I might also be completely off, and I still don't know about plenty of things. This will be fun.