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achrams · 4 months ago

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𝐎𝐤𝐚𝐲 𝐛𝐫𝐨, 𝐬𝐡𝐮𝐭 𝐮𝐩.

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: On your trip to get familiar with the area, Ethan decides to be annoying and you show him his place.

𝐂𝐰: Jealous Ethan tries to get the two of you caught mid act.

To everyone’s surprise Ethan behaved rather well for the rest of the ride and upon making it to the campsite it was as if nothing had happened just a few hours ago. Walking out the bus that had you all crammed together in a, to you, comically small seat had you letting out a sigh and stretch of relief. Trying to get all the kinks out of your body before familiarising yourself with the place.

With the fresh air hitting your nose, came a sense of freedom. You and all your classmates would be enjoying the quietness and adventures this forest holds. While some people were busy rushing to stand by the bus, taking the various bags and suitcases from the luggage compartment, you decided to look around the area. Until most people had got their stuff, that is.

Taking note of the wooden buildings- a larger community house in the middle, a teacher’s and guide’s cabin and a bit further out the smaller cabins that were to fit this class. From the small talk you overheard from the teachers when on the way here, each cabin holds around 4 people total. So you’d likely spend the room with Ethan and 2 others. Hopefully people you actually knew better than as a ‘classmate’.

Taking your eyes off the buildings for a moment and putting your attention on the scenery instead. Tall and dark trees all around you create a calm and protected feeling in your chest. Small and rugged rocky trails going through the forest, leading to all sorts of mysteries- a lake and a sauna right by it, a nice fire pit for midnight talks and last but not least the activities you all would be kept busy with. In all honesty it sounded and looked more like a summer camp than a school trip but who were you to judge this event that had been the talk of the town or well.. class.

A blow of warm air to the back of your neck made you turn around only to be met with a grinning Ethan. He chucked your bag into your hands to which you thanked him quietly. Raising an eyebrow upon seeing his suitcase. “What’s all that for? You make it seem like you’re moving somewhere.”

Ethan followed your pointing finger and gave a nonchalant shrug. “Have to be prepared for everything. Wouldn’t you say so?”

With a snort and a simple roll of your eyes you turned around to look at the cabins once more, trying to look for one that seemed good to stay in. “Yeah right. As if we’re in an apocalypse.” The faux offended gasp made you tilt your head back to Ethan, only to see him frowning at you.

“When you have a zombie after you, I’m not gonna help you. You’ve lost that privilege, just so you know.” Of course Ethan would play right into the banter. It’s almost heartwarming to see how well he knows you and your remarks. He seems happy about it too, given the cheeky grin now on his face.

Fighting back an actually genuine smile at your thoughts you forced out a sarcastic laugh. “Consider my boots quaking.” Ain't no way you'll let him see just how much you actually valued him as a friend.

–--

Fighting back a twitch of your eye, you stood in the middle of your cabin. ‘I thought the number seven meant luck not misfortune.’ Mentally groaning as you were forced to share a cabin with Ethan alongside Jana and her friend. Of course it would be the two other people who fit perfectly in the classmate category instead of friend. Not exactly what you had hoped for.

Now, what had you irritated in the first place? A very questionable situation you found yourself in. Jana and Ethan were proper bickering on each side of you, trying to convince each other why you should share their bunk bed with them. Ethan to your left, saying that you should share his bunk bed because the two of you were close friends and Jana to your right counter arguing that you needed a change and the best way was to share her bunk bed.

Leaning your head back with a groan you muttered out a simple ‘Stop arguing for the love of-” You really couldn’t handle the two whining any longer.

“Jana, let the guy go. You already know him and Ethan are like two peas in a pod.” Thank fuck for Jana’s friend interfering this banter and dragging Jana off you. Otherwise it would have gone on forever, you feared. Though when Jana was pulled off you, Ethan didn’t let go as expected. Instead he hugged your hands tightly close to you, practically trying to prove that ‘you were his’.

“Oi. Let go.” Ethan looked at you and smiled, dragging you to the bunk bed so you could unpack your things.

“You owe me now, just saved you from a zombie.” You couldn’t help but chuckle at Ethan’s joke, having to hide your laugh into your hand. It wasn’t exactly proper to laugh at your friend's whispered insult when the person was in the room, now was it?

“Thought you were supposed to leave me to fend for myself?” A snarky question earned a nudge to your side followed by a small ‘Changed my mind.’ from Ethan.

You could already feel how fun this whole event was going to be despite the situation a few seconds ago, it wasn’t even the evening and you felt like you had lived through 2 weeks of this campy life. Better unpack your bag and make this cabin feel like home as quickly as possible so you could go and explore the place.

---

Yeahh…not ever did you think that your curiosity to look round the place was a popular thought, so much so that it would bring together an ‘exploring group’. Not that little either, most people decided to tag along, not to mention the teacher deciding to come too. Taking off along one of the roads into the trail that was supposed to make a circle around the area. Get used to the place, you know?

You and Ethan seemed to be the two leaders of the group for now, starting the stroll while chatting about random things. Then some more people joined the conversation and then more…and more, until it seemed like you were the one tagging along.

It’s not that you hated the other, gods no, your extroverted part just died off midway so now you opted for listening to the others. Ethan, however, didn’t seem to catch the hint and kept trying to get you more into the conversation. Which only annoyed you given the remarks he was making.

Walking a bit slower as you took your time to admire the scenery to save your mind, practically zoning out on the sight of the lake below you. This hill with some benches was a prime spot to hang out, noting the place into that good memory of yours.

“Come on bro, wouldn’t want you to get lost now..” Ethan’s hand was hanging off your shoulder as he practically pressed his cheek against yours.

Not bothering to fight back you let the guy try to drag you back to the others who had made it a fair bit ahead already. “You’re awfully quiet. What’s got your panties in a twist?”

You could already hear the awful grin on Ethan’s face, so out of habit you gave him a look. “Didn’t expect so many people to tag along. Little tired is all.” A hum escaped Ethan. A perfect sign he was plotting something and his next words confirmed it.

“Want me to take care of them? I’m good at combat!” Apparently Ethan was really going all in on the apocalypse roleplay for some reason and you couldn’t help but feel your face contort into a confused expression.

“You and combat? Those two do not go well together. You know that.” The offended sigh that you heard next to you stopped abruptly and then Ethan grabbed your cheeks, making you face him.

“Oor.. you want me to take care of you instead?” A simple twitch of your eye made him back off with a casual laugh. Almost made him feel the need to surrender to save himself of your wrath. It was either your mind was in the gutter or he was purposefully being suggestive.

“I mean it though,” Ethan said after a moment of silence, turning to glance at you again, “I can help you get your spark back. Have some fun between the two of us, you know the good old primal style-”

Seems he had chosen some bad words to describe his ideas because before Ethan could go on, he was very quickly pulled off the trail, pushed against the nearest tree. Your hand over his mouth to properly shut him and his stupid ideas up. There was no need to get so riled up by some ‘jokes’ your best friend made but they did have an effect. More than you’d like to admit.

Feeling him smile against your hand made you lean closer to Ethan’s face, whispering into his ear, “You better shut the fuck up right now before I make you.” And by the way his smile grew underneath your hand, it told you everything you needed to know.

“Turn around.” A simple command that Ethan eagerly followed, looking over his shoulder as he moved your hand from over his mouth to be wrapped around his lower stomach. Trying so damn hard to get you all riled up. To make you lose yourself. To finally give him your attention. Only you and him. Alone.

The perfect arch in his back as he tried to press himself against you did not go unnoticed at all. Using your free hand to trail it down his back to rest on his hip to suddenly pull your own hips flush against his ass. “You want this don’t you? Being annoying on purpose to get what you crave?” Leaning close to whisper against his neck. Giving Ethan a taste of his own medicine. “Tell me why I should be nice, hmm?”

Ethan pressed his eyes shut for a moment, letting out a breath of air. You could notice how he tightened his hands against the bark of the tree he was leaning on. “ Wanna be good for you..”

How sweet. So eager to make you feel good. Even if it was a blatant lie, Ethan was a perv and you could see it clearly now. This was no kind gesture on his part, he just wanted you. Needed you. Disguising it as ‘wanting to make you feel nice’. So naughty you are Ethan.

“You expect me to believe that after that stunt you pulled in the bus?” Smirking evilly against Ethan’s neck as you kept him neatly pressed against your groin while the hand that was previously wrapped around him, moved to touch his skin. Sliding up his shirt to leave teasing touches on his warm skin. So sensitive just from this? Oh.. poor guy and his shallow breaths.

Nodding desperately and pressing his forehead against the tree, “Yeah...please? I’ll behave.” Ethan’s little breaths and begging made you hum against his neck. Leaning back a bit to really take in how eager he was. Already the perfect putty for you to play with. “Where’d all your attitude go? Lost it in your throat, did you?” He could handle a little more teasing, couldn’t he? Well, he better handle it.

Pressing your chest against his back as both of your hands made it under his shirt, keeping him stuck against you. Sliding your hands up his stomach as you smirked at his surprised noises. Leaning your head to the side to glance at his reddening face. With a resolved whisper and a meaningful sharper press against him you teased, “You better have a condom with you, otherwise I’m leaving you here.” Ethan shuddered against you and slowly dug into his front pocket, pulling out a condom. An amused hum escaped you. Had he really been preparing this whole thing? So needy, especially the hopeful look he gave you. Looking innocently in your direction, waiting for you. So obviously you took the condom and held it between your teeth. Hands are busy creatures.

A quick look around confirmed that you two were indeed alone. The group had continued walking along the trail. ‘This can’t be any more perfect.’

Finally you got to work, moving your hands to remove Ethan from his pants. As soon as the zipper was opened you pushed his pants down to his ankles. Enjoying how Ethan shivered and kept an anticipation filled gaze on every small action on your part. Keeping one hand on his surprisingly already hard dick, palming him through his boxers with slow movements, while the other was presented before him. He looked at your fingers for a moment before opening his mouth for you.

A swift push and you could hear him slightly gag on your fingers. Lewdly sucking at them as if they were a meal to devour. Slurps and whines left his lips that were neatly around your fingers, keeping them wet as he looked at you with a proud look. Trying to milk any sort of praises from you by sliding his tongue all over your fingers to show how good he was. Only for you.

With a breathy whine from Ethan you withdrew your hand, pushing his boxers out the way, the slick and wet fingers toying with him before slowly pressing a finger into him. Savouring the gentle gasp it earned from Ethan. You had never seen him this way and honestly. You kinda liked it.

The teasing and slow moves your fingers did in order to prep the guy earned a whiny sigh from Ethan, “Can you just do it already..I can’t wait..” Halting your hand for a moment, giving him a scare of leaving completely before harshly shoving two digits into him. ‘That should shut him up,’ A sharp breath in did exactly that, leaving Ethan wordless.

Soon enough Ethan was rocking back on three of your fingers, hands balled into fists against the tree as he desperately tried to find some sort of satisfaction. Something deeper. The heavy huffs and puffs by him helped quite a bit by making you more willing to be in him already. The sounds were sweet and addicting. You really couldn’t wait anymore.

Pulling your hand away made Ethan turn his head in your direction, not that he could see much from over his shoulder anyways, which left a pout on his needy and red face. Though the sound of your zipper opening peaked his interest. Pushing your pants and boxers out the way, quickly ripping the condom open and rolling it onto your dick.

Lining it up with his needy hole left you little to no time to think before Ethan himself pressed himself back against you. Forcing you to enter him, his back arched immediately and a pleased mewl left him. “Oh… so someone’s this needy?” The chuckle didn’t even make it to Ethan’s ears, he was too busy getting himself used to you.

To help him along you pressed yourself against his back, pulling him a bit up so instead of his head resting against the tree it was his chest that touched nature. Hands holding onto his overly warm skin, massaging it with gentle touches.

“Move.” Aand there was the signal you needed to hear. The first pull back, leaving only your tip buried into Ethan along the need-filled buck, completely sheathing yourself into the warm and gushy walls earned a low groan from the both of you. Ethan felt so damn good around you, it felt as though he knew exactly what to do and when. Perfectly keeping you snug inside him.

Leaning your forehead onto his shoulder you began bucking yourself in and out of him at a decent pace, not enough to be considered ‘teasing’ but not fast enough to properly stimulate the whiny Ethan beneath you. This was supposed to be a bit of a punishment to Ethan for being annoying after all.

Never did you think that Ethan would be vocal…well this vocal. It almost felt like he was living through this ten times in one go. From fear of people hearing you took a hold of his head, pressing your palm over his mouth. Gently pulling his head back a bit as his body rocked along with every thrust you did. Feeling how the warm air from his nostrils bushed your knuckles while he tried to keep sounds to a minimum. Spoiler: it wasn't really working.

Ethan seemed to grow more and more needy as time went on and his moans and mewls only increased your inner need to fuck him completely dumb right here and right now. So as any guy would, you picked up your pace.

Each nasty slap of your pelvis meeting his ass earned a breath from you and a pleased yet muffled moan from Ethan. Feeling how sensitive he was, all because of you, made you proud. You didn’t even know why. Ethan was your best friend for fuck sake….this was no activity between friends. You knew that but didn’t acknowledge it.

Suddenly Ethan shuddered in your grasp, tightening around you. Even from underneath your hand he managed to whine out ‘Keep going- that…fuck..’ Ah so you found his prostate. A smirk made its way to your face. A new purpose made itself visible. With unfaltering thrusts you drove yourself into himself in just the right angle to brush against his prostate. Toying with his sensitivity to see him crumble and wither in pleasure.

The filthy slaps of skin to skin contact came to an abrupt stop. Making Ethan grumble and look over to the side to give you a glare. Seeing the focused look on you made him follow your line of sight. ‘Oh.’ Someone was there. From the faint sounds that grew louder you could figure out who it was. Jana.

She was calling out for someone…wait you? Why the hell was she looking for you? Didn’t the rest of the people keep going? So why was she walking back after you? Unbeknownst to you Ethan squinted his eyes in displeasure. Not only because Jana had stopped you from moving but because she was getting on Ethan’s nerves. How did she not get that you were his? He decided to prove it to her once and for all.

With sly actions he began moving against you to keep the momentum going. Who cares if someone is walking past, right? Ethan just needed to keep his lips shut. With a shocked look you put both of your hands on his hips, trying to keep Ethan still, to which he just looked at you and whispered, “I’ll keep quiet…’s need to feel you..”

With a silent sigh you gave in and let Ethan move against you, though you kept your attention on making sure the coast would be clear. ‘Omfg Jana walk faster.’ Mentally cursing at the snail speed Jana seemed to be using to pass by. Ethan, who noticed your focused manner, smirked at the information and picked up his pace, perfect for catching you off guard. Really bucking himself back to feel you.

With a sick idea, he opened his mouth to let out probably the most lewd moan ever. Loud too. Just when Jana was done passing by yet not completely out of the picture. Ethan was purposefully whining and moaning your name to make Jana jealous. So this was a jealousy thing between Ethan and Jana, huh? In Ethan’s mind this whole scene confirmed you were properly his and if Jana knew better she’d back off.

With a quick and harsh manner your hand was over Ethan’s mouth again. “The fuck are you doing!? Shut up Ethan.” He just pressed himself against you and mumbled ‘She’s gone..’ against your hand to urge you to fuck him again. He was correct that Jana was gone now and the others would make it to the cabins from the other side. Oh...Ethan was so going to get it, now that it was certain no interruptions would happen.

Freeing Ethan’s mouth, instead gripping his hips to drill yourself into him. You were pissed at his jealous stunt but with his moans hitting your ears you couldn’t stay mad at him for long. Surprisingly enough his sensitivity hadn’t gone down at all given he let out every sound imaginable when he felt you target his prostate. Feeling him twitch and shudder, how he tightened around you, how his legs threatened to give out because you just felt sooo good in him. So perfect.

With a whiny mewl Ethan let his head fall forward against the tree feeling how his body rocked along with your harsh thrusts. Eyes pressed shut as shaky breaths left his parted lips. He came. And hard. The sticky substance painting the tree, dripping down in small droplets. Hmmm, at least it's some nutrients for the tree? No clue.

The tight squeeze of his ass only heightened your own need to find your relief. Hands gripping Ethan’s hips to the point of leaving bruises as you pushed yourself as deep as possible. Breaths heavy and rugged. ‘So close.. So damn close.’ Only a bit more, Ethan could handle it, yeah?

That warm knot in you tightened even more and with a low groan you sheathed your dick into him as hard as you could in your hazed state that was looking for the tipping point. Pulling Ethan tight against you as you came. Just keeping him close as you came down from your high, warm breaths against his neck.

Ethan could feel how warm his insides were, though he didn’t show his disappointment of not properly being able to feel it. Lifting his hand up to hold your head, messing with your hair as you were nuzzled into his neck. “Feel better now?” Oh for fucks sake..of course he was going to be unserious and continue his previous banter.

“Yeah. Refreshed and dealt with.” He shivered a bit from the chuckle, and reference to the earlier conversation, against his neck. Smiling to himself as he felt you lean back and slowly pull out of him. Slowly making sure he was mentally good enough to go back to the cabins. Wouldn’t want to miss this too much. To not miss your dick too much. Yeah, a hard task for Ethan.

While you were busy with tying up the condom, Ethan slowly turned around to lean his back against the tree. His tired and satisfied eyes looking at you, admiring you with every inch of your being. It was clear that he was head over heels in love with you, yet you seemed to be so oblivious. Calling him a friend psshh as if. You couldn’t ignore him and his feelings now, right?

“What do I do with this?” Chucking the used rubber on the ground for a moment, just long enough to get yourself clothed up again. Ethan followed suit and picked the briefly discarded item up.

“I’ll throw it away, don’t worry.” He ensured and hid it in his hand for the time being, until a trash bin was visible. A small hum came as a reply for Ethan.

Taking the course back to the cabins. You two would probably need to walk slow for Ethan’s sake but also so the flushed and messed up appearances would fade. The smell of sex was most likely still around you two but at least you wouldn’t look like dogs in heat.

A quick glance to your right and Ethan’s proud smile was on full display. “Someone seems content.”

Ethan shrugged and clicked his tongue, “Very much so. 0-2.” You gave him a simple nudge to his side and gave a playful roll of your eyes.

“Help me think of an excuse why we were gone instead of keeping score. I doubt ‘I got lost with my friend’ is viable here. We look fucked.” Oh… Seems you still don’t see him as a partner, just means Ethan needs to try a little harder and he is known to be stubborn. He won’t give up until he gets what he wants, isn’t that right?

At least he can fondly look back on being fucked by the beautiful scenery of a lake behind you. Don’t get hard again Ethan.

#Stateac's works.#Ethan is a jealous bastard #It looks cute on him though #Maybe I should make you get him jealous on purpose #male reader #dom male reader #top male reader #masc reader

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peachesofteal · 9 months ago

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The Pit

2/2

Ghost/Soap/female reader 4.7k words - AO3 Warnings-tags: 18+ MDNI, dubious consent. Smut - M/M/F. Forced breeding and kink (but we're soft). Medical inaccuracies. The Pit by Silversun Pickups. Misery inspired. Horror-ish. Whump. Caretaking. Imprisonment/kidnapping. Forced comfort. Addiction. Feelings of fear, panic, anxiety, hopelessness. Simon calls the shots.

It’s snowing.

The forest floor is covered in thick, white cotton, heavier than cement. It sticks to your clothes, your knees, soaking you to the bone. You slog through the snow; the forest grows longer. Taller. Trunks of trees enclosing you in a cold grave, a cage.

You have to try. You have to.

The moon illuminates your path, a swath of silver light refracting through weeping frozen branches, their backs bowed with the heft of the snow, cracking and shivering under their burdens.

They’ll snap eventually. They’ll break.

Just like you.

Wolves howl in the distance. It makes no difference; how close they are. You can’t take much more, newly healed leg already spent, lungs heaving for what little air there is in this elevation.

They circle. Blood-soaked maws snap at you, herd you closer and closer to the start, to where it all began, to where it continues to begin, again and again.

The house.

Your knees find ground.

You’d rather die now. Freeze in the snow. Or…

A jaw snaps. You hold out your hands. For freedom. For peace.

The last thing you see is the flash of pearlescent canine, ripping into your flesh.

“Shhh, jus’ a nightmare.” Simon’s thumb works across your brow, concern shining on his face in the dim lighting. You shiver, even in a room like a sauna.

“Did- did I wake you?” He shakes his head. Of course, you didn’t. He’s always awake. He’s always watching.

“Close your eyes.” He tucks you close, blazing heat from his massive, pillowy chest bleeding into your back, your ribcage expanding slowly. It’s rhythm, sick, twisted rhythm, syncing you together, your breathing evening out, steadying in his hold. He reaches for Johnny, who’s curled on his side, and strokes through some long, loved pieces of mohawk. Lips muss your hair. “Sleep, little dove.”

The floorboards in the hallway creak.

They talk to you, whisper about comings and goings, each spot singing a specific frequency just so, hitting the right pitch at the right time, a chorus of shifting weight echoed by hackneyed groaning.

The creaking is didactic in nature. It exists to teach you something, to plainly expose the things you should have been paying attention to all along: footsteps in the morning, in the evening, shuffles versus steps. Schedules, routines, things you didn’t pay close enough attention to, things you didn’t care enough to notice, all laid out very carefully in front of you. The weeping wood of the floor practically begged you to notice, but you were too distracted by the never-ending reminders of your agony, and the cups of tea that made you woozy. You were too busy craning your neck to catch a glimpse of the outside world beyond the window, too preoccupied with trying to stand on your own without vomiting all over the floor (again) to catch what the hallway was trying to say.

If you had listened, you would have stood a chance.

“Alright, here we go.” Johnny murmurs, an arm under your knees, another around your back. When he rises, cradling you into his chest like a child, you bite the inside of your cheek so hard you taste blood, desperate to tamp down the whimper that breaks free. “I know, I know. Almost there.” He soothes, lowering you to the couch where the pillows are all placed in very specific positions. One of the goes under your calf, another your knee, and they line the sides of your ribs for your arm to rest elevated, comfortably. He cups your cheek, warm thumb gently moving across your skin, sweet, molasses thick affection, like the cough syrup you used to swallow when you were young. “Do ye want some tea?” Yes. God yes, a thousand times yes. Yes, you want the tea. Yes, you want to fall into the bleak darkness of drugged sleep, the vat of unconscious swallowing you whole every time. You want the buzz of numbness, the shadow of an orphic, endless pit. You want to slink away from everything, from them, from whatever this is, from what’s happened to you.

“Yeah, I-“

“Johnny.” Simon says his name softly from the kitchen. “Let’s wait a bit on the tea.” His brow furrows, light venetian blue eyes tracking across your face. They catch the light just so, sparkling downward, sea foam, sea glass and ocean spray, all mixed together into kaleidoscopes spiraling outward from his pupils, and when he frowns, you swear they darken.

“She’s in pain.” He protests, straightening to full height. There’s something happening above your head, something he concedes to with a sigh, shoulders relaxing, a regretful glance cast your way. “I’ll get ye some naproxen, dove.” He promises with a kiss, and then you’re alone in the living room, unable to move, snuggled against the worn leather couch.

Your leg is in a cast. Paper and glue, you think, makeshift at best, and they both remind you of it all the time, how it’s not medical grade, how you can’t attempt to walk on it, how the bone is incredibly fragile, and will be, for a while. It’s in worse shape than your arm, which at least has a black brace on it, covered from elbow to wrist, immobilized with a dull ache, a pain consistently throbbing, but doesn’t make you cry. Not the way your leg does. Your leg screams with agony, still, pins and needles and buzz saws in your bones, a haunting torment keeping you awake at night, making you second guess your desire to live.

The tea helps though. The tea makes everything less, makes the pain round, instead of sharp, makes the fear feel farther away, instead of right on the tip of your tongue, like a monster on your doorstep.

Simon says your name, broad shoulders stationed in front of the fireplace, glass of water in one hand, two pills in another.

“Do you want to sit up?” You blink at him, and he kneels before you can answer, perching right next to your shoulders. “Open.” You give the pills a dubious glare, unsure, lips zipped tight. It could be the naproxen, but it could be something else.

After all, the tea is not just tea.

He sighs in the same exasperated sentiment, and then his thumb and forefinger are grasping your cheeks, cold shiver erupting down your spine at the contact, and he pushes your mouth ajar. “Don’t be like this, sweet girl. Thought you were going to be good today?” He’s referencing something you remember vaguely, a discussion from last night in the dark, a promise you made when the world was coated in sap and too far warm, sticky like the sweat clinging to your neck-

“Ye dinnae need to cry, little dove. Don’ we take such good care of ye?” Johnny cooed, eager. “Ye just need tae be good for us, and we’ll do everything else.” He was holding you tight, too tight against his skin, heat radiating from him like the sun.

“I don’t understand.” You moaned, unable to move or twist away, trapped in the cage of his arms, Simon sitting prim on the edge of the bed, one hand on your hip.

“You will, in time. By spring, we hope.” Simon told you, dark sympathy in his eyes, words stretching into a mixed-up sentence jumping around in your mind. By… spring? What does that mean? Johnny’s hands roamed over your skin beneath the blankets, stroking across your breast to delicately pinch at your nipple, before dipping further south, slipping into your folds without warning.

“Ah!” You gasped, tense, frozen beneath his touch.

“Shhh.” Simon pats your hip. “Let Johnny put you to sleep, dove. You’ll feel better after a rest.” Johnny’s fingers stuffed in your pussy, thumb dancing across your clit, would lull you into tea addled sleep, and warring emotions swirled in your head. Your desire for this, your acceptance of this, is sick.

You’re sick.

You think of the snow. The reflection on the floor in this room, crystallized shimmer on the ceiling. The sun has been out, and you’re dying, wilting, from not feeling it on your face.

“Tomorrow.” You croak, and Johnny pauses. “Tomorrow can I… can I go outside?”

“Will you be good?” Simon’s thumb rubs at a spot on the corner of your mouth, and you nod.

“Yes… I- fuck.” Johnny’s breath hitches, and your walls clench up tight, squeezing. Small explosions of light dance across your eyes, pain mixed with pleasure, peaks and valleys rolling through your muscles. “Fuck.” A big, scorching hand spreads across your lower belly, just beneath your navel, and pushes.

You come immediately. It’s overwhelming to keep yourself relaxed, to prevent the spike of pain from your injuries, but an orgasm dulls everything else, and you cry with its intensity.

You’re sick.

You don’t miss the way Simon’s hand lingers, how his eyes don’t leave that spot, how Johnny’s hand covers his, and they hold there, lost in their own world for a second.

“If you’re good, sweet girl. We’ll take you outside.” He whispers, arranging limbs and waists and feet to his liking.

You fall asleep dreaming of a blizzard.

The pills go down so easily.

And you suppose they help. For a while, anyway.

Enough time for Johnny to get you set up on the porch, zipped up in their clothes and propped up on a loveseat rocker.

You wonder if they sit out here in the spring. In the summer. Do they drink their tea and eat their biscuits and watch over their domain like kings? It’s so American, so southern, to envision, and you almost laugh at the idea of either of them swapping their black bitterness for something iced and sweet enough to rot the teeth right out of their head.

“Dove? Can ye look towards me?” Johnny sits half on his knee across from you, on another outdoor, plastic chair. He’s got his sketchbook and pencil in hand, excitement brimming from eyes to lips, like a child. Full of wistful bright light, the sun itself.

Simon’s sun, it would seem.

You’ve noticed it, how Simon is the earth, but Johnny is the sun. The whole world, revolving around one ball of light, one eager, wild Scot, a star, the only, in Simon’s sky.

He draws you with efficiency. Moving and directing you just so, not daring to jostle you or cause you discomfort, but still ensuring he gets the best light. The barely-there dew drops of dawn. The glisten of a million frozen crystals at your back.

He handles you like glass. He stares at you like you’re a doll, a fragile one, like you had when you were a girl.

In the quiet moments, which are many, you catch them staring at you. If they’ve brought you down to the living room, they lurk in the kitchen, murmuring to one another in voices too low for you to catch. If you’re in the bedroom, they curl around you like wolf pups, pawing and petting until you’re asleep.

You don’t understand.

They won’t even talk about it with you now. How you came to be here, how they’re insistent you’ll have to stay until spring, when the pass opens.

Their words are a sickness, infecting you, spreading through your system until they’ve touched every piece, inside and out.

It’s madness. The kind of madness that pushed you to the brink already, made you feel like you’re losing touch with reality, with yourself. The kind of insanity that nearly got you killed.

You test the weight. Just barely, just enough that it screams under the pressure.

If you could make it to the door.

If you could make it down the hall.

If you could get out.

You grit your teeth.

The house has been silent for hours. No creaking floorboards. No heavy footsteps. You close your eyes, hold your breath, listening one last time.

They must not be here.

They go out, every once and a while. Bring things back. You’re not sure where, or how.

You shuffle a step, dragging your foot. It’s more a hop, but you use the bed to offset the inevitable thump of your body weight, managing to make it to the end, fingers deathly tight on the wrought iron.

You can do it. You can.

It’s only three, four hops at most to the door. On one leg, in a weakened state, it’s harder than you thought, but when your fingers lay on the door handle, the release of relief in your chest is overwhelming.

Yes! Yes. You can do it. Just-

The knob does not turn. You pull, applying more force, trying to jiggle it, see if maybe it’s stubborn or just old. This cabin is certainly old. Even though it’s been hollowed out anew inside, the bones are ones of a hunting cabin. A long-forgotten place, now housing horrors anew.

You twist and tug again. Every time it doesn’t budge, you try a little harder, each metallic scrap and jangle louder than fireworks.

You tug and you fiddle. You close your eyes and push down the rising panic.

The truth comes rushing over you all at once.

It’s locked. It’s always locked. That’s why Simon ensures it’s shut completely, each time they come and go.

They never intended to take you home. They never are going to give you your phone, or theirs, they’re never going to get you back over the pass.

You’re locked in here. With them.

The tugging becomes something else, something wired and frenetic, until you’re jerking the door handle with all your might, shaking the frame, screaming. The motion destabilizes you, and your lack of strength does you no favors.

Before you can self-correct, you stumble. You fall, instinct forcing your bad leg down, and when you try to catch yourself, you howl so loud you think the mountain shakes.

Your head smacks the frame of the bed on your way down, and then… as always now, everything is dark.

The first time you open your eyes after, Simon is seated in the chair. The same one he was in when they brought you here, severe and terrifying. The room is spinning, and you’re just as nauseous as the first day you laid eyes on him.

“I- I’m sorry.” You croak, but he only shakes his head, rising from his seat without even giving you a second look.

For a fleeting moment, the indifference stings.

“You’ll wear that,” he motions to your foot from the end of the bed, the good one, and you peek down to see a metal shackle clamped around your ankle. “until you can be trusted again.”

Johnny crawls into bed with you at night. He cries, hot tears on his cheeks, and coos over the leg with the break in it, and then over the shackle.

“I told him, ye dinnae mean to be bad.” His fingers shake as he traces your cheek. “Ye just cannae help it. It’s not yer fault, I know dove. Ye dinnae know any better. We have to teach you.”

“Johnny-“ Please. Let me go. Help me.

They all die in your throat when he presses his wet face to your neck like a dog, rutting his hard cock into your hip.“Ye’ll be right as rain by spring, I told him. Gon’ be such a good mum for the bairn, I know ye will.”

The world fades away. The silence suffocates, and you pray to die.

You cry the rest of the night, even when he shucks your pants down and licks your pussy until you’re coming on his tongue. You cry until he falls asleep, and Simon returns, settling in his seat, watching you both.

“How do ye feel about chicken soup tonight?” Johnny draws you back to him, sweet boy smile on his face, and your stomach clenches involuntarily.

Stupid handsome Scot.

You’re sick.

“That’s fine.”

“But do ye like it?” He’s so eager, back straightening with interest, really trying to learn, trying to figure out what you like and dislike, what will earn him your good graces, and what won’t.

You shrug. “Sure, it’s… it’s good.” A thought occurs to you. “Where do you get the chicken?”

“We’ve got ‘em in the barn. Can’t roam in the winter but we keep ‘em warm in there. Along with some ducks. A goat.”

“Farm animals?” “Aye. How else we supposed to make sure you’re healthy?” He waggles his eyebrows. You try not to grimace. “Si slaughters ‘em fresh. Everything tastes better that way.” A soft light shines in his eyes, a wolf’s instinct, and the shudder trembling down your spine makes your hands shake. “Ye cold?” He clocks it immediately, as he he does with every other single thing.

When he gathers you into his arms to bring you inside, tucking you back into the couch, you don’t even argue. You just sit there. Like a doll. Theirs.

Night is the easiest. It’s simple, to give in to your body, let them take over, take control of the parts that have long betrayed you. You close your eyes as they touch you, kiss you, make you come.

You even enjoy it.

That’s the worst part. You like it, when there are hands and fingers and tongues all over your body, like you’re being worshipped, like you’re some sort of god.

You like it, when Johnny gets overexcited and Simon settles him, guides him with a hand on his cock to your entrance, whispering slow in his ear, encouraging him to take his time. You like it, when Johnny’s pulse flutters under his jaw, when Simon holds you steady, when they get lost in each other, in you- you can almost pretend it’s not real, it's some fantasy, from a book, something dark and delicious-

Not your reality.

Tonight, Simon holds you in his lap on the edge of the bed, broken leg lying flat, his elbow crooked under your good knee and wrenched upwards, nearly pressing against your chest. The angle is intense, and Johnny grunts, muscles flexing with every thrust,

“Ah- fuck.” You moan and twitch, locked inside a cage, a confinement, the arms of your captors… your saviors. Simon swirls the pad of a finger over your clit, mouth open on your cheek, teeth nipping over your skin. You clench, Johnny cursing, some bitten off dialect you’re not familiar with, Simon’s voice dripping with smirk.

“Good girl, squeeze our boy, jus’ like that.” He does it on purpose, the talking. Knows how it makes you gush, long ago figured out the way to make your pussy clamp down around whatever he’s got worked inside you, his cock, Johnny’s, fingers, tongues.

Together, you’re an orchestra. Johnny is the strings, the violin, the viola, a cello. He plucks so perfectly, a harmonious blend of beauty spills from his bow, rising in the air until the audience is on their feet. His music trembles. It quivers and cries, like the wail of grief.

Your grief.

You’re the piano. An entire world, nestled in one instrument, but you play off tune, broken and sharp, pitch all a mess- you don’t even belong here.

Simon is the maestro. He directs each note, each melodious ring exactly as he wants it, working the music up to a brilliant crescendo, and it comes crashing like the force of a wave breaking onto sand. He conducts you, Johnny, the day, and night. He orchestrates the flow, lyrical give and take evolving in the house, your captor status slipping farther and farther away each night you take them into your body.

He knows you like it. Knows he’s in the lead, knows they’re winning-

And he doesn’t let up.

“Harder.” He coaches, and Johnny obliges, mouth open in bliss, eyes nearly rolled backwards. His fingers clamp down on your hip, too close, and you hiss in fear, the preparation of pain.

Simon snarls, yanking it away, holding to him tight before discarding it in exchange for the back of his neck.

“Sorry,” Johnny pants. “Sorry, dove.” You want to tell him to fuck off, to tell him you hate them, you hate them both, but you're only able to give them a high pitched moan of pleasure. “I’m gon’ come.” He grunts, and Simon yanks him forward, lips smashing together, tongue snaking messily between teeth.

For too long, the three of you hold fast. Johnny’s reckless, furious thrusts shove you backwards, over and over again. “Pull out.” Simon commands, flat palm on his chest. “Do not, Johnny.” He pushes him away from you like a dog, shoving him backwards with a firm forearm, a piece of rebar turned flesh.

He comes all over your belly, splashing thick white splatter across the mound of your cunt, up past your navel, choking on gasps of breath as Simon heaps praise onto the two of you.

Later, after they’ve bathed you, given you another orgasm, and all are almost tucked in, you whisper in the flickering fire light.

“Can I… can I have some tea?” Simon starts. It’s small, barely visible, but you feel it, in your bones. The echo of him in the room.

He holds your head between two palms, and you wonder if he’ll crush your skull. Decide it was all too much trouble. You’re too sick, feeble in your mind, too weak to survive.

“To sleep?” He asks softly, eyes darting over your shoulder for a split second, heavy with worry.

“Please?” There’s something in his eyes you don’t understand, a whirling mist of hell and desperation, and then it clears, and he motions a go ahead to Johnny.

“Alright, dove.”

The tea settles you into silence. With it, you can exist. You can survive.

It numbs you from the inside out, and as time passes, you feel no pain. You’re tangled in a dark web, a viscous manner of thing weighing you down from all angles. You feel nothing, and days turn to weeks, weeks to a month. Soon, the world is thawing. Snow melt turns to river and mud, greenery fighting for its chance to sprout and survive. Your leg is healing.

Spring comes.

The day you roast a chicken is the day your life ends, for good.

It’s domestic, the act. An olive branch to Simon, who’s angry with you, again. Who’s frustrated, took himself outside to chop wood.

Johnny mopes inside the house.

“I hate it when the two of ye fight.”

“Well, if he wasn’t such a stubborn asshole.” You hold the wooden spoon like a wand before returning it to the cast iron, swirling it around in the mess of butter and onion. “Then there wouldn’t be an issue.” You swallow the sting of his earlier refusal. The quick rejection of your request.

All you wanted was to go on a walk. It’s a beautiful day.

Why must the leash be so tight?

“He’ll be happy ye’re cookin’ again.” Johnny grins wide, pretty face beaming over the counter, and you sigh.

Maybe.

You’re watching out the window when Johnny approaches him in the yard. You can’t make out anything their saying, but the body language paints enough of a picture.

Johnny is rigid, angry.

Simon is calm, placating.

Words are exchanged, brows shifting with sympathy, sweetness.

Johnny erupts with glee. He shines like the sun, and Simon smiles, a real, true smile.

They’re beautiful.

And you’re sick.

The three of you tangle together in the dark. It’s a sailor’s knot, thrice over, difficult to understand which piece is which, where one begins and the other ends.

Simon’s anger is long melted. A glacier, gone leaving only a gash in the rock behind.

It’s this gash, this quiet undercurrent, keeping you focused on the wrong thing, pliable in bed until you realize Johnny is murmuring something in your ear, two arms banded around your waist from where you lay on your back, atop his chest.

“We cannae wait,” His hand strokes over your belly with reverence. The words cut through the thick, heady haze, and you try to twist to look at him. “watch ye get big with our bairn, goin’ be such a good mum.”

“Wh-what?” you choke, tensing. They try to settle you, sweet words and mouths everywhere, but you cannot get away from the fear.

From them.

“You- ahh.” You’re on fire, a finger rubbing your clit, Simon’s width between your thighs. He spears you open on his cock, unrelenting, making you keen and cry, face wet with tears.

“Waited long enough,” He grunts. “Been wastin’ it for months.” He steals your whimpers, swallows them, takes them inside like you take him, like you’ll take him-

“- until you swell. Until you’re heavy, dove, round with us.”

Until you’re forever theirs.

It’s a snarled promise. A prayer. Your eyes find the ceiling, fire flickering in shadow across old texture, and you breathe.

He shoves your knees towards your chest, Johnny still lock tight around your ribs, tongue in the shell of your ear.

“Need to be still, cannae lose a single drop." His palm is searing beneath your navel, and he's practically singing, vibrating. “We love ye so much.”

They’re conducting Beethoven. Ode to Joy.

You’re playing Bach. Come, Sweet Death.

Simon comes in you for the first time, and you come too, clenching down around his cock as he praises you, holding onto him like you can’t let go. Like your body knows. Like you’re craving it.

“Good girl.” He croons, spooning whatever slips free back inside, shoving it deep, wet lips on your own. “Gotta keep me in, dove… jus’ like that, there you go.” You throb, squeezing again, pulsing for him. For the words.

You’re sick.

When they switch positions, and Johnny smiles at you over your knees, his canines shine nearly red in the fire light. Two predators, one prey.

Your heart cannot help but flutter.

Sick.

Eight months prior:

The bar is packed. Summer music festival, the banners say. The park is thriving, alive with melody, musical acts rotating on and off the stage, children running amuck with candies and balloons, families relaxing in lawn chairs.

An Americana tradition.

They sat there themselves, for a while. Watching. Burning desire growing hot under his collar every time he saw a mum and her bairn, a small, precious thing cradled close to a chest, an overexcited five-year-old having a catch with his Da.

Eventually, they retreated to the darkness, hiding away in the one bar in town, it’s small windows and dim light practically a calling card.

And what they found inside, well...

“Hey, what can I get you?” You’re perfect. Sweet and soft, like a dove. Kind faced; kind spoken. You make Johnny’s cock twitch just looking at you, and he pictures you on your back, legs spread wide, exposed for them to feast on. To fill. He can’t wait to taste you, hold you, kiss you, have all his firsts with you.

Will you fight them? Will you squirm? No, you'll be good. You'll be so good for them, their perfect, sweet girl. He knows it.

How did they get so lucky?

Simon tucks his ballcap lower.

“Sorry, there are a million people in here!” You half shout over the raucous noise. “You’ll have to speak up!”

“Just two beers.” His yank accent needs work, but it does fine when there’s one hundred other faces next to his. A sea of forgettable memories.

Just as intended.

Your fingers brush his when you deposit two drafts on the bar top, shooting off a total, and for a lingering second, he stares at you.

Simon caresses the back of his neck, thumb circling a loving touch into his skin.

A warning. A reminder.

Can’t make ourselves stand out. Cannot be remembered.

Johnny peeks at the name tag pinned above your breast, and files it away. Files everything away as they finish their pints, how you scrutinize the crowd, how you’re constantly working, looking for things to do, cleaning. Taking care of everything. The people at the bar, your coworkers.

His heart overflows with love. With warmth, and when they take their leave, he can’t help but look back one more, catching a glimpse of your profile, singing a silent goodbye.

See you soon, dove.

#peaches writes #the pit #ghoap x reader #soap x reader #ghost x reader #ghost x soap x reader #soap x ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #simon riley #john soap mactavish #simon ghost riley #johnny soap mactavish

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hometoursandotherstuff · 6 months ago

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Picturesque 1921 cottage in Chewelah, WA has 4bds, 2ba, and a pending sale for $585K. It's no surprise that this cutie wouldn't last long.

When guests visit, they park at your picket fence and walk up a lovely path to the front door.

Cozy living room with lovely details. The fireplace is flanked by paned windows and columns separate it from the dining room. There's also an original light fixture.

The dining room has a gorgeous antique lighting fixture.

The kitchen's very nice. Love the checked floor and white cabinets, but it's kind of cluttered and hard to see. It's open to a family room.

The family room looks like it might be a newer addition. It's got a lovely stone fireplace, tree patterned wallpaper and a nice skylight.

Upstairs is a spacious bedroom with an en-suite.

Elegant bath.

The 2nd bedroom is being used as some sort of spa. A pyramid is said to have electromagnetic energy. Also, it looks like there's a small sauna in the corner.

Smallest bedroom is very cute for a child or a guest.

In the yard there's a wonderful big shed.

Plus, a garden and a very nice greenhouse. There's also a covered patio on the shed.

Check out the adorable little she shed.

This home has so much. This is a guest house. It's like having a private road to it, too.

Isn't this lovely? That ceiling.

But, that's not all- there's still another shed.

The property is 1.74 acres.

https://www.zillow.com/homedetails/101-E-Park-Ln-Chewelah-WA-99109/116378548_zpid/

#cottages #houses #house tours #home tour

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marrijaa · 1 year ago

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"Heavenly spa" ❥

Finally done! Hello everyone, and welcome to this full relaxing area.. Heavenly spa is placed in Tartosa on a 50x40 lot.. It's tree floor build with outside and inside pool, two saunas, two drink bars, coffee bar, private room for lover couples, gym, yoga room, sumba studio, massage room and icecream station.. I had to use a bunch of CC, otherwise this build would not look this beautiful.. Mitigating circumstance is that these are the creators whose objects you all mostly use.. ❥ I will copy the links of the creators that I think you may not have in your mods folder and I will just list the others.

I hope you enjoy and I would like you let me know and tag me if you use it in your game play :)

gallery ID: curlybabeee MARK iNCLUDE CUSTOM CONTENT ON GALLERY

tiktok ♡

Tuds : Wave | Vime set | Beam living

Myshunosun : Garden stories | Serene bathroom | Lottie bedroom | Nora living | Gale dining

Leosims : Massage chair | New river set | Decor organizer

Novvvas : Wabi-sabi | Neon signs 1 | Neon signes 4 | Neon signs 6

Sixam : Hotel bedrom | Breeze of Greece

AnYe : Coffeeshop | Bridal shower Pralinesims : Wall decor-letters

Littledica : Rise and grind Dreamteamsims : Starbucks Coffee Shop

Katiesimspire : Charging stand Cepzid : Let's get fit Sooky : Magazines

RVSN : Oil diffuser King Falcon : Fuwara set 2 Clutter Cat : Mellow memo

ATS4 : december 5 - functional winw bottles Sundays : amed mirror | Canggu

Dominationkid : Neon sign - private room Nickname : curtain

Lilac creative : Essentials 1, 2 | Simley cup Descargassims : coffee cups

Sumba fitness mod Max20 : poolside lounge pack PTS : cottage garden

S-Imagination : oak and house Icemunmun : icecream machine

I COULDN'T FIND FLOWERING IVY THAT I USED IN CAFFEE, SO PLEASE PUT ANOTHER ONE, IF YOU WANT TO LOOK LIKE ON THE PICTURE!

Big thanks to the creators @felixandresims @harrie-cc @pierisim @peacemaker-ic @littledica @syboubou @ravasheencc @lilaccreative @sundays-sims

#sims 4 #ts4 #sims 4 cc #ts4 simblr #sims #my sims #aesthetic #showyoursims #video games #cute #mydownloads

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the-californicationist · 10 months ago

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They Think They're Sneaky

(Ghoap & Price/Reader)

It had taken you a while to make it feel like home. The soggy Liverpudlian winters were dreadfully different from your eighty-degree Miami holiday seasons. Seeing Santa Claus in shorts and a Hawaiian shirt was the Christmas of your childhood, and now you were bundled up, fighting the wind stinging your nose. After you were seeing each other for a few months, Price had been the one to invite you to stay, paying to break your apartment’s lease and cleaning out his extra room to help make space for you. You’d nested together, buying furnishings and linens, two little love birds.

Price smiled at you over the kitchen island one day,

“What about a housewarming, then? Make a party for the boys before we head out on this next campaign.”

You agreed, rushing to prepare for a dinner. You made sure to head to the butchers for the best meats and cheeses, made sides from scratch - the whole deal. Price had put up the tree and the lights, hanging ornaments with you into the middle of the night, making love to you in the glow of the garlands, the tiny bulbs turning his skin into gold.

The tables were set, the patio was cleaned, and the tree was trimmed. Then, the doorbell rang.

“Hey! C’mon in!” You hugged Soap, Ghost, and Gaz as they crossed your threshold, arms full of gifts, mostly bottle-shaped, hugging you back.

“Good ta see ya again, lass. Where’s the old man?”

“Out back, waiting for you,” you smiled, leading the team to the patio.

The party went on for a good long while before anyone even mentioned being hungry, and you all drank more than you meant to. Price had smoked through two cigars, and he had a dram of whisky in his huge hand, talking animatedly with Gaz. Your friends from the gym had shown up, as well as your two pairs of neighbors, and the house was alive with laughter and warmth.

You spotted John across the kitchen, through the crowd, and gave him a knowing look. He saw you, mid-conversation with the neighbor, and excused himself, stalking you as you moved out to the patio.

“Mm,” you put your hands inside his coat, “My warm bear. Bit chilly tonight, huh?”

“Aye,” he held you close to him, breathing into your hair, kissing your forehead.

You looked up at him, seeing the love and desire in his eyes, hoping he’d kiss you. When he did, it washed over you, warm and fiery, burning down to your core.

“Careful, love,” he warned, breaking your kiss, “House full o’ people are ‘bout to get more party than they came for if you keep rubbing on me like that.”

“Oh, yeah? How about the greenhouse? Surely they won’t miss us for that long,” you suggested, tugging on his arm, your eyes wild with mischief.

He laughed, following you around the house to the large greenhouse he’d built for you. You’d mentioned missing fresh tomatoes, and so he had given it to you as a coming home present, breaking your heart with his surprise. You’d fucked his brains out in it that night, both of you sweating from the hot, humid interior, creating a tantric sauna, rolling around in each other’s filthy, soil-covered arms like animals.

Now, as you approached the little building, you noticed that your secret space was occupied. Price held a hand to your mouth as you approached, pushing you back to the wall, hiding you from view. Slowly, carefully, you knelt with him, watching the scene of your two friends, Ghost and Soap locked in a half-naked embrace, unfold in front of your eyes.

“Oh, my God!” You whispered as Price lowered his hand.

“Hush!” He put a finger to his lips, unmoving, watching them as you crouched together, spying on them voyeuristically.

Soap was having his cock sucked enthusiastically by Ghost. His mask was flipped up onto his nose, and his jaw was stretched to accommodate the Scot’s hardness, using his pink tongue to lick the silken skin along his shaft. He was jacking himself off with one hand, and fingering Johnny with the other, making him whine and beg for more of everything. Then, Ghost stood up, setting himself between Soap’s spread knees, ripping off his shirt, and began to feed himself into his lover’s asshole. You watched as Simon pulled Johnny’s mohawk back, exposing his huge Adam’s Apple, licking and sucking at his neck, leaving cruel bruises.

With a unique urgency, he began to thrust himself up into the sergeant, jerking his cock as he did, spitting down onto it, rolling it in his palm. Soap was gripping onto Simon’s waist with white-knuckled hands, desperately keening.

You gasped and Price turned to look at you, tearing his eyes away from your very personal porno,

“Mm, ‘s hot, huh, love? Got me fuckin’ hard. Wanna feel?”

He grabbed your hand and rubbed it along the crotch of his tight jeans.

“Too bad our spot’s taken. Think they left us any room in the back corner there?” You joked with him, fondling his fleshy head and his rigid shaft through the fabric.

You heard a terracotta pot shatter. Ghost yelled out a string of curse words, and you and Price ran for the patio, hurrying so you wouldn’t be spotted if they came out of the greenhouse. You stood by the back door, panting, laughing with each other, watching as the two sweaty bodies got dressed in a panic. Gaz poked his head out of the door and saw you two laughing, panting, and gazing out to the greenhouse.

“What’s all this then?”

“Nothing! It’s nothing,” you tried to cover it up.

But, just as you went to push him back inside, Ghost and Soap very casually exited the greenhouse, disheveled, Ghost’s black mask out of place, and Soap’s mohawk beyond repair. Gaz looked at them and then at you,

“That doesn’t look like nothing, does it, Cap?”

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thedrarrylibrarian · 11 months ago

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Christmas 2023

One of my favorite holiday traditions it to give a book on Christmas Eve. So hopefully in time for you to cozy up before bed, here is my Christmas Eve gift to you - a rec list!

Just the Two of Us by torino10154 (200 words, rated T)

"I can't believe this is our first Christmas, just the two of us," Harry said as he placed the star on top of the Christmas tree.

Christmas Brunch by @drarrily-we-row-along (583 words, rated G)

Draco wanted to host brunch for his parents on the first Christmas in their shared flat. Harry thought that seemed like a great idea.

But the week leading up to it has been a nightmare, Draco is stressed and Harry's losing his mind. Maybe it wasn't such a good idea after all.

For Everything a Season by @shealynn88 (1,342 words, rated T)

"Our children are a joy, Harry, but I’m glad it’s just you and me.”

Harry goes soft. “Why’s that?”

“Well, many reasons. But right now, you’re under the mistletoe, and I prefer to take my time, and the children would make an awful racket if they were here to see.”

Draco Malfoy and the Cursed Sweater by @slytherco (1,804 words, rated T)

After falling victim to Harry's stupid prank, Draco finds an unexpected partner in crime.

Underneath the Tree (You'll Find a Piece of Me) by @squintclover (4,435 words, rated M)

Harry and Draco find themselves in a holiday home amongst friends at Christmas. The Secret Santa Hermione has planned is sure to go perfectly. Surely...

Even Children Get Older by @lou-isfake (4,500 words, rated M)

It started with don't wake the baby.

Snow on the Beach by tinaakitten (4,915 words, rated T)

Over multiple Christmas Eves, Harry and Draco find their way back to each other.

Featuring cute Harry Potter obsessed toddler Scorpius.

Deliberate Denial by edaniels0221 (7,244 words, rated G)

Professor Harry Potter can't help but to deny his children's ridiculous notion that he has a crush on the gorgeous new Hogwarts Healer, but as he comes to find out, one can only be in denial about liking Draco bloody Malfoy for so long.

Löyly by @citrusses (10,323 words, rated E)

Somewhere between the steam of a sauna and the icy waters of the Gulf of Finland, Harry heals from a broken engagement and a failed career. Draco Malfoy helps.

25 Additional Scenes for Ain't That the Garden of Eden by @romaine2424 (12,139 words, rated G)

The additional scenes cover missing moments in December, Harry's election, and Inauguration.

Because Cats by @icmezzo (14,589 words, rated T)

Harry has a cat, and Draco doesn’t. Then Draco has a cat, and Harry doesn’t. Then Harry has a cat again, but Draco doesn’t. Then Draco has a cat, but Harry—OMG HOW WILL IT END.

Waking Up Slow by @sweet-s0rr0w (21,941 words, rated E)

'Twas the night before Christmas, although it’s July Draco’s a shopkeeper, no-one knows why There’s hiking and witch caves, freak snowfalls and more Bad Christmas jumpers, nosy neighbours galore Narcissa’s here too, but… something’s amiss And what’s in those chocolates that’s making them kiss?

Be sure to check out @skeptiquewrites wonderful Happy Hour Rec for this fic!

All I Want for Christmas by CaityCatt (36,509 words rated M)

Harry feels like a bit of a grinch at Christmas, but his true love has a plan to change all that.

The Coldest of Days by Anonymous (54,683 words, rated E)

At thirty-one, Harry Potter finally has it all: four incredible children, a naughty Niffler named Penny, and a brilliant boyfriend who has managed to fill the hole in his heart.

But because Harry is Harry, chaos is bound to follow. On a cold December morning, Draco wakes up with no memory of the war, his children, or his life with Harry.

That, and he’s insisting that he’s been thrown fifteen years into the future.

The Art of Thank You Notes by fictionclaw (82,286 words, rated E)

A few years after the war, Harry receives a ministry notice that Draco Malfoy’s house arrest will soon be lifted and that the wand he has kept may be sent to the ministry. He doesn’t think much of it when he sends the wand directly to Malfoy Manor with a note.

But one letter swiftly follows another and Malfoy sneaks his way into Harry's every day life without either of them minding.

Or; Harry and Draco find reasons to write letters to each other and Black heirlooms and family histories are uncovered while they figure out why that is. Lunch dates, careful friendship, confusing feelings and Draco's art included.

I hope that wherever you are, you know you have a place by my fire and a place in my heart. Merry Christmas Eve to those who celebrate, and the Happiest of Holiday wishes to all!

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monstersandmaw · 17 days ago

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What do you think a house or building designed by and for accommodating nagas be like? I imagine stairs would be kind of pointless? And what would their version of couches or sofas look?

My first thought was something like a helter skelter XD.

Sorry, to be more serious, I'd imagine that if it's a multi-storey building, it'd have ramps but also if the nagas are based on tree-climbing snakes, then maybe columns with grippy textures to access different levels easily. Otherwise, all on one level.

Also underfloor heating (think Roman hypocaust systems if it's a fantasy world, or just... underfloor heating if it's modern) for maintaining a good temperature for them. Or heat lamps/sauna room. Areas to allow them to shed more comfortably?

Lots of squashy soft furnishings (beanbags and padded beds (kind of like dogbeds but not degrading lol), rather than wooden dining chairs etc.)

Feel free to add more ideas in the notes, folks!

It's 11.20pm now and I've been nuked by 5 hours on my motorbike today, and also daylight saving happening XD

#naga #naga headcanons #anon ask

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fishyfishyfishtimes · 8 months ago

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I love you winter!

I love you, first snowfall of the season. I love you, powdery snow and frozen grass in the mornings. I love you, pink and purple sunsets. I love you, heavy snowfall. I love you, waking up in the morning to find a thick blanket of untouched white snow. I love you, skiing trips through the woods. I love you, hot berry juice. I love you, making running steps through the untouched snow to see how far you can leap. I love you, frost and snow in the tree branches making everything look glistening and perfect. I love you, grey cloudy days when everything looks monochrome except for the red trunks of the pines. I love you, downhill skiing. I love you, trying out new routes and tricks while downhill skiing and getting out of my comfort zone! I love you, hot chocolate and whipped cream. I love you, great tits and magpies flying about looking for food. I love you, clear days when the sky is blue and you remember how beautiful it really is. I love you, heavy snowfall illuminated by the street lamps at night. I love you, walking on the sea ice and lake ice and accessing places I never could before. I love you, glögi. I love you, snowflakes and inspecting your patterns. I love you, steaming hot saunas. I love you, ice swimming, even though you also frighten me! I love you, fairy lights in the trees. I love you, wind-carved waves and shapes in the snow. I love you, blue hour. I love you, warm blankets. I love you, tiny black streams still staying unfrozen and moving. I love you, icicles and other beautiful ice formations. I love you, crown snow-load and thick snow covering the trees. I love you, northern lights. I love you, fireplaces. I love you, waking up in the middle of the night in your warm bed, finding the house completely quiet as you walk through the hall, and upon looking out the window, all you can see is the calm snow slowly making its way to the ground, illuminated by the colourful fairy lights and the orange street lights. And you get this magical feeling inside of you, that you’re so warm, and calm, and perfectly safe and sound in this very moment. And you feel like you could stand there forever and just… take it all in.

I love you winter!

#parting words to the past season.#i would already consider it “spring” right now. heck; a week and a half ago is when spring started beginning this year i would say #however! the infamous “backwinter” surprised me and every other finn this past weekend and i wanted to say a few words about winter #just a little parting gift! it was so lovely of winter to pay a final visit before going away for a bit #i know northern lights and ice swimming might be a bit on the nose to some folks who live more south but these are all things ive done and #felt and seen and not just vague romantic winter-related terms ^^’#there is probably more things i love about winter im forgetting here. but no matter! i will remember next winter im sure :]#i want to do this for every season because i greatly enjoy all of them for many reasons #important

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rachelsimbuild · 6 months ago

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Billionaire - Olympus Mansion - The Sim 4

More pictures and information here: rachelsim.mysapo.net/billionaire-olympus-mansion-the-sim-4

💖 Map : Any map you want fit the size lots - Size : 64 x 64

💖 Pack to used : High School Years - Snowy Escape - Cats & Dogs - Get Together - Get To Work - Spa Day - Vampires - Luxury Party - Notdefined

💖 6 bedrooms - 2 large living rooms - 2 small living areas - 1 home cinema room - huge men's and women's dressing room with nautical style - open gym - spa with yoga outside - sauna - outdoor dining table - rooftop party area - 1 children's room - professional live stream room - small swimming pool area on the rooftop - glowing tree garden - outdoor bar area - outdoor movie viewing area - 1 pet room - 1 employee room - 1 laundry room - garage - reading room - empty shelves containing items collected in the game and more.....

💖 Inspired by the mythical Mount Olympus in Greek mythology, where the gods resided to create a real paradise for Sim, this truly fantastical home seems to have stepped out of a fairy tale. Nature blends seamlessly with the house, its elegant design exuding sophistication without sacrificing grace. The house also features a luminous garden that shines brightly at night, with rooms that seem almost heavenly. Come and admire this exquisite blend of Greek mythological beauty and sophistication with me.

🌟🌟🌟 Download here : https://ko-fi.com/s/9df37e8464

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theluckywizard · 1 year ago

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Winter is Coming Prompts

Made for @dadrunkwriting

The Inconveniences of Winter

Snow falling down inside one’s clothes

Someone tracks snow all over the house

Slipping on ice over and over again

Something important is frozen shut!

Casks and bottles of ale exploding because they’ve frozen

Frosty, icicly beards and mustaches

Ice build up in horse hooves

Boots soaked through, toes going numb

Suffering from the shorter days and long dark nights

Blinded by the sun reflecting off the snow

Tracking down your mittens, hats, scarves, heavy socks before heading into the cold

People complaining about winter

White out conditions

Sleet pelting skin

Winter Fun and Pranks:

Breathing frosty fog onto a surface and drawing in it

The ethereal beauty and silence of a fresh snowfall

Taking a sauna or enjoying a sweat lodge with friends and or LI

Polar plunge for madness or health benefits

Hot alcoholic beverages are consumed (in excess?)

Unexpected snowball fight

Winter bonfire with hot drinks and food roasting on sticks

Writing a message in fresh snow with footprints

Pulling a tree branch so that snow falls on the person behind you

Freezing someone’s belongings in water

Winter Romance

Huddling for warmth under a single blanket

Warming up your LI’s numb fingers, nose and cheeks

Putting cold toes on your LI in bed to steal their heat

Bumping cold noses together

Warm kisses on cold skin

Spicy times beside a fireplace

Cozy on horseback together or in a sleigh

Making hot beverage for LI to warm them up

Winter Angst and Whump

Stripping LI down to share body warmth to prevent hypothermia

Frostbite

Feeling lonely on Satinalia

Unable to find shelter from the conditions

Unable to find food because winter

Discovering an individual suffering from exposure

Feeling the effects of hypothermia (sleepiness, disorientation, no longer shivering, slurred speech, memory loss, fumbling hands)

Getting lost in a snowstorm

Failing to start a fire for warmth

#Prompt List #DADWC #Writing Prompts #Winter Writing Prompts #Cold Weather Writing Prompts #Winter Cometh

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aspoetssay · 2 years ago

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Sunny… You’re a Godess… I love your work ! Are you comfortable with alphabet headcanon ? If it’s a yes, can I ask a SFW alphabet for Price ?

JOHN PRICE SWF ALPHABET (john price x gn!reader)

I'm back to posting after my exam session! Thank you so much for this request and your kind words! I hope you will like this as it is my first time writing something like this!

swf template

A = Affection

Price is a fairly affectionate man. He loves to get his hands on you - not very big on PDA, but he doesn't back away from occasional kisses in front of others. His hands in yours is a must. And trust me that he is not afraid to tell you he loves you or that you look beautiful in front of others—yes, he will get some teasing from others, but nothing will shut them up quicker than the look from their Captain.

B = Best friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?)

He's very caring as a friend - that man has a huge golden heart. Most of his friendships start on the military bases, meeting new people, and working with them. Since his job is a massive part of his life, it's unlikely for him to make friendships outside his job. However, he does have a friend from school with whom he reconnects a few times a year and just talk about anything.

You just know that he will remember any detail you tell him about yourself. He won't forget your birthday—he'll miss it, yes, because of his work schedule, but as a best friend, he will try to avert your wrath with something you enjoy.

C = Cuddles

Cuddle bear. That man needs to hold someone or be held. Big on being the big spoon, of course, there is nothing he enjoys more than having your body against his and sharing his warmth. If you are the type of person that's always cold - great! He'll make it his personal mission to warm you up immediately.

The type of man to admit he loves cuddling and won't ever be ashamed of it. He enjoys being held and if you do, especially in the middle of the night, unconsciously, that man will melt on spot.

D = Domestic

Price is old-fashioned so a domestic lifestyle is his dream. He is the type of man to move to a house near a lake when he's finally retired. Would totally build a sauna or a tree house, or even get handy and build a house by the lake.

Pretty decent at cooking, but doesn't go beyond searching for new recipes or trying new tastes. If your palette is more defined and you introduce him to the different cuisines, he'll definitely lick the plate you make. But if it's his turn to cook - expect simple English food.

The man is clean - the military forced him to become tidier. There aren't unnecessary decorations or stuff that he doesn't use in his house. It's important for him to live in a tidy environment, so his place is kept as tidy as it can be.

E = Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

Price would tell you the truth. He wouldn't be the type of person to sugarcoat it or lie about wanting to end the relationship. He appreciates communication and even if he knows how much it will hurt you, he has to be truthful because he owes you that.

F = Fiance(e) (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?)

He would definitely propose to you quickly. If you are in a relationship for two years, three years max - he's already down on one knee. He is definitely the guy to fall in love quickly, but he doesn't trust everyone with his feelings. So if the two of you are dating for quite some time, it means he trusts you unconditionally and, why wait any longer? He gets weak from thinking about marrying you, please bear with him.

G = Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)

Super gentle! His touches are never rough. His worst fear would be hurting you accidentally - he would never forgive himself. His job is so violent where he has a place where to shake off his negative emotions. With you, he's bare. The loss, and the environment of his job fall down on his shoulders and he allows himself to be vulnerable.

H = Hugs

Back hugs. Back hugs. Back hugs. Back hugs. Just give him the opportunity to be behind you and he'll always wrap his hands around you. It doesn't matter if you are alone or in front of other people. He has this hidden urge to always protect you and be close, and holding you in his hug is one of the many benefits of having you near.

His guilty pleasure is emotional hugs. When he gets back from a mission, after months of not seeing you, drained emotionally and physically. But the way you wrap your hands around his neck and pull him closer, making him wrap his arms around your back, slightly squeezing you, makes him shed a few tears. Home. You feel like home.

I = I love you (How fast do they say the L-word?)

Would want to say it sooner than he actually does. But he waits for the perfect opportunity where he knows that you are comfortable with hearing him say it. Even though in the first months of when you two started to date, he mumbled those three words in his sleep.

J = Jealousy

Price totally gets jealous as he is protective over you, but he doesn't get into an obsessive mood. Authoritivity is a huge part of him, so he knows his worth and he knows no one in their right mind would mess with a Captain's partner. However, when he's jealous because a newbie keeps eyeing you, making weird moves towards you, the newbie will be silenced quickly. Price doesn't have to say something, it's enough to catch his look. The look that will make the newbie question their place in the military training.

K = Kisses

Simple kisses with him are the best. Really enjoys pecking your lips too many times to get you all worked up and giggly. But those kisses after you two share prolonging eye contact— His lips find yours, his heart bursting into flames, the heartbeat ringing in his ears. It was odd for him to feel so in love every time he kissed you. It's as if he's falling in love over and over again and that feeling is so addictive that he kisses you again and again, and again.

If he's in a rush, he'll kiss your cheeks softly, his hand lingering on your face for a second longer before he storms out of the house.

L = Little ones (How are they around children?)

Price is great with children. However, he's only good with children that are of his own or in his family. He might feel weird if in a playground a random child asks to pass him the ball that rolled to his feet. It also depends if he has children of his own or not. If he has - he'll be the best father to ever exist. He'll shower them with affection and protect them, trying to spend every moment with them. If he doesn't have kids but wants them, you will notice that random walks through the playgrounds in the park are getting more often.

M = Morning (How are mornings spent with them?)

He'll not let you get out of bed on a lazy day. Where is the rush? Not only it is hard to leave bed every morning on its own, but when he is your personal heater - it's impossible to get up early. If you'll insist on getting up - oh, you better believe that his Captain side will come out at this point. He'll order you to stay and even if you would try to disobey, something about his authoritative tone makes you fold and you have to stay. And, trust me, if you behave, he'll make your time worth it.

N = Night (How are nights spent with them?)

Not a fan of staying up late or doing something at night. He has a pretty ruined sleeping schedule, so any type of sleep is important to him. Occasional date nights or movie nights happen, but you understand better than to keep him awake. As much as he would want to be a night owl, he really is not. There are too many times he dozed off on the couch when you two were watching a movie after midnight. Please, let that man get him a well-deserved eight hours of sleep.

O = Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves?)

He's a closed-off person because of his job. He's in the Special Forces, and he doesn't go chit-chatting about his job left and right. Even in a relationship, he doesn't share all the details - he's not allowed to. But if we are talking about emotional things, he'll warm up to you gradually. Not the type of person to trauma dump you because he cares about your well-being as well and is afraid to scare you away. He knows that he is deeply messed up, but he acknowledges his flaws and traumas and tries to work on them the best he can. If you are a dear person to him, trust me, he'll hand you his heart over. Please cherish it.

P = Patience (How easily angered are they?)

He's not really patient. He is used to people obeying his orders and a military job means that everything has to be done fast and cleanly. He doesn't put up with teasing aura well, especially in serious moments.

Q = Quizzes (How much would they remember about you?)

Everything. Price is definitely that type of man to pull out dates in a conversation:

"Remember the place we dined on the 16th of September?"

"What?"

"2015."

"It was eight years ago, how should I—“

R = Remember (What is their favourite moment in your relationship?)

The first time you laughed at his dad's joke. Not only it slightly stroked his ego that you laughed at his horrible joke, but the sound of your laughter made him swoon. Ever since that time, when you called him unfunny, he reminded you of that time when you laughed:

"Your laughter said otherwise."

"Then you were funny. Now you're just getting old."

S = Security (How protective are they?)

The field of his job does leave him paranoid. Many horrible people might go after him and might use you to get to him. He doesn't know what he would do if you would get hurt because of him. For instance, he'd track them down and wreck them and then retire. Your security matters the most. His job is already to clean up the mess silently and to slightly make it better, but you are everything to him. He'll search the whole world just to find you.

T = Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)

Isn’t the best at coming up with grandiose or innovative gifts, but will surprise you with flowers, sweets and little things that remind you of him. He’s far better with you just telling him straightforwardly what you want and he will get it for you.

However, he does put a lot of time and sanity into arranging a date. Ordering a table at some fancy restaurant, making sure the setting is nice, ordering flowers, getting you some new clothing for the occasion. It stresses him out, but it always ends up romantic and that’s all that matter.

U = Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?)

Smoking. It helps him clear his mind and he really started to smoke because as soon as he joined the Army, he learned that smokers get a few more minutes of free time. He doesn’t smoke a lot, but a few cigars when he is feeling stressed calm him down just a bit.

Forgets to eat when he’s focused on his work. If there are days when he has to deal with paperwork, you better know that he forgets to eat and to drink enough.

V = Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)

He’s not self-conscious. Why should he be? His body is trained, pure muscle and gorgeous (have you seen that teeny tiny waist of his—lord…). He keeps his beard well groomed as well as any other hair on his body. It’s important for him to look presentable not only because soldiers must look well, but also because he knows he is a well-looking guy. Not in a narcissistic way, but you won’t catch him moping about his looks. But compliments are always appreciated.

W = Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)

He needs you like fresh air. His life is messy - one mission to another. Different locations, different settings. You are the only security in his life. The only still moment that makes him breathe easier and sleep calmer. There isn’t a day he doesn’t think that you are everything he has. Everything he has ever wanted.

X = Xtra (A random headcanon for them.)

When he is absolutely exhausted, he will snore so loud. It will drive you and everyone crazy. Waking him up and making him fall asleep again will only worsen the situation.

Y = Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?)

A really erratic person just doesn’t work with him. He needs stability. He just doesn’t click with a person that changes their opinion every second or isn’t able to express feelings. Communication and honesty are the most important things for him - he cannot stand lying and that would break his trust completely.

Z = Zzz (What is a sleep habits of theirs?)

If he’s with you - always holding you in his arms. It’s a must. If he’s away, there is already a collection of polaroids Soap has taken of Price sleeping while hugging a pillow.

Will talk in his sleep occasionally - some incoherent bullshit. But sometimes, you can actually ask questions and he will answer you.

“Do you— love me?”

“Mmmn, yeah…”

“Or do you love Gaz more?”

“Gaz? Yeah— Gaz…”

“JOHN!”

#sunnywrites!#call of duty x reader #call of duty imagine #call of duty headcanons #call of duty #john price x reader #captain john price #captain john price x reader #captain john price x you #john price cod #john price #captain price #john price headcanons

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yoga-onion · 1 year ago

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Legends and myths about trees

Forest myths, Estonian traditional beliefs (1)

The Forested country, Estonia

Estonia is one of the most forested countries in the world. Forests cover nearly half of the mainland in Estonia, 30% of which is currently under protection.

Forest is recognised as a recurring theme in Estonian folklore, inspiring storytellers and painters that have produced beautiful landscapes. The largest forests can be found in northeastern and central Estonia, stretching from as far as the north coast to the southern border with pine, birch, spruce and aspen being the most common tree species. Estonian forests are home to a surprising variety of wildlife, often seeing hares, foxes and deer, and rarely even a wolf, lynx, bear or an elk. Rarer still are the European mink, dormouse and flying squirrel, which are unfortunately close to extinction.

In ancient forests and woodlands, the cycle of life left in nature can be observed up closely. Barely marked by any human activity, Järvselja ancient forest in southern Estonia is a home to species of owl and a gracefully aged 360-year-old Kuningamänd pine tree. Poruni hiking trail in northern Estonia winds along the 10-metre banks of Poruni river, where a mix of fallen tree trunks giving life to new and at times rare plant species can be found.

In the harsh northern weather conditions, trees have been the source of livelihood for centuries. While some trees were used for building houses and saunas, some were considered holy and remained untouched.

A sacred grove usually consists of deciduous trees and attracted offerings for gnomes, fairies and other supernatural forces of past times. Kassinurme Fort and sacred grove were established around 2000 years ago, making it one of the oldest remaining sacred places in Estonia. Nearby Rakvere has centuries old sacred oak grove.

Little is known of medieval Estonians' spiritual and religious practices before Christianization. The Chronicle of Henry of Livonia mentions Tharapita as the superior deity of the then inhabitants of Saaremaa (Oeselians). There is some historical evidence about sacred groves, especially groves of oak trees, having served as places of "pagan" worship.

(The Livonian Chronicle of Henry offers a Latin narrative of events in Livonia (roughly corresponding to today's inland Estonia and the northern part of Latvia and surrounding areas) from 1180 to 1227 by a priest named Henry. it is one of the oldest known written document about the history of Estonia and Latvia.)

木にまつわる伝説・神話

森の神話・エストニアの民間伝承 (1)

森の国エストニア

エストニアは世界で最も森林の多い国のひとつである。エストニア本土の半分近くを森林が占めている。そのうちの30％は現在保護下にある。

森はエストニアの民話に繰り返し登場するテーマであり、語り部や画家にインスピレーションを与え、美しい風景画を生み出してきた。最大��森林はエストニア北東部と中央部にあり、北海岸から南部国境まで広がっている。最も一般的な樹種はマツ、カバ、トウヒ、アスペン。エストニアの森には驚くほど多様な野生動物が生息しており、よくノウサギやキツネ、シカを見かけるが、稀にオオカミやオオヤマネコ、クマ、ヘラジカを見かけることさえある。さらに珍しいのはヨーロッパミンク、ヤマネ、ムササビで、残念ながら絶滅の危機に瀕している。

太古の森や森林地帯では、自然の成り行きに任せた生命の循環を間近に観察することができる。人間の活動がほとんど見られないエストニア南部のヤルヴセルヤ古代の森には、フクロウの一種や樹齢360年のクーニンガマント松が優雅に茂る。エストニア北部のポルニ・ハイキングコースは、ポルニ川の10メートルほどの川岸に沿って続いている。ここでは、倒れた木の幹が混在し、新しい、時には珍しい植物種に命を与えているのを見ることができる。

北国の厳しい気象条件の中で、木は何世紀にもわたって生活の糧となってきた。家やサウナを建てるために使われた木もあれば、聖なる木とされ、手つかずのまま残された木もある。

神聖な木立は通常、落葉樹で構成され、ノーム (伝説上の小人) や妖精、その他の過去の時代の超自然的な力のための供物を集めていた。カッシヌルメ要塞と聖なる森は約2000年前に設立され、エストニアに残る最古の聖地のひとつとなっている。近くのラクヴェレには何世紀もの歴史を持つ神聖なオークの木立が広がっている。

キリスト教化以前の中世エストニア人の精神的・宗教的慣習についてはほとんど知られていない。ヘンリーのリヴォニア年代記では、当時のサーレマー住民（オイセル人）の上位神としてタラピタが挙げられている。聖なる木立、特にオークの木立が「異教的」な崇拝の場として機能していたことを示す歴史的証拠もある。

(ヘンリーのリヴォニア年代記とは、1180年から1227年までのリヴォニア (現在のエストニア内陸部とラトビア北部にほぼ相当とその周辺地域) の出来事を、ヘンリーという司祭によってラテン語で記したもの。エストニアとラトビアの歴史について書かれた最古の文献のひとつである。）

#trees #tree myth #tree legend #forest #forested country #estonian mythology #folklore #sacred woodland #sacred tree #pagan worship #sacred oak grove #medieval estonian beliefs #nature #art

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hometoursandotherstuff · 1 year ago

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I have never seen a mid-century modern rustic home like this 1977, very dated, very large, house in Sekiu, Washington. Note the wires anchoring the roof down. 5bds, 3ba, $825K. Whoever buys this home will more than likely have to embrace the dated features, or completely gut the place. Take a look at this one.

This home is nothing if not funky. I don't know how you'd decorate it, but only if it wasn't so dark. Anyway, this is the entrance foyer. At first I thought that those were seahorses on the doors, but I think they're just patterns in the wood.

This is a large living room. I have no idea if those things going up along the stairs have any purpose.

And, off to the side is a large stone fireplace. It's a little weird b/c the foil wallpaper was the height of decor in the 70s, but it doesn't necessarily match the rustic style of this house.

I have never seen a sunken rec room.

Appliances in this corner make a kitchenette.

And, the rest is over here. Look at the interesting mosaics.

Down this hall are some bedrooms.

I am amazed that they left this cool headboard in the primary bedroom. There's a vintage intercom system on the wall, too.

The bathroom is funky and it's also carpeted.

Hall to more bedrooms.

This one has a feature wall.

The bath has interesting tile cabinetry.

There's a sink in the corner of this room, but it may be another bedroom., b/c there are only 3 baths.

The real estate photos show more detailed closeups than full rooms, like this sink.

And, this door and shower curtain.

The home features a sauna.

This is quite a large room. That counter looks like an upside down tree stump.

This looks like a hot tub b/c it has a cover.

Outside under the house is an outdoor kitchen.

Large driveway and garage in the back of the home.

The house is on 2.89 acres of land.

View of the Straits of Juan de Fuca.

And, there's a marina. Doesn't the house look like the Stealth Bomber from up here?

#mid century modern home #rustic home #houses #house tours #home tour

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yourtypicalfangirl23 · 2 months ago

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Youth.

and watching the three of them felt like, the cheap, corner-store shop picture frames expanded into real life. From the stale walls of his bedroom to the reds and oranges of an early autumn sunset where the screams of cicadas echoed through the gold-painted, tar highways. It was desolate, the countryside was dying, and no one except their shadows and them were present.

In his eyes.

Two boys, one girl. Three of them. The end of summer, he recalled, always brought upon a gut-wrenching dread.

It was always two boys, one girl. Three of them. end of summer.

Always the three of them, when they were too young to be heroes, still ridding the innocence of their adolescence, learning life, finding themselves. Tugging at their uniforms, one button always abandoned, shirt untucked in some parts. Far more comfortable in band shirts and ripped jeans, a zip-up hoodie always unzipped, sweats, always the sweats. Instead of the tightly fitted armor of jujitsu high, too young to be in soldiers' uniforms.

Uncleaned chalkboards, wooden floors, and large paneled windows where the curtain slowly drifted with the summer winds. Three chairs, three desks, and space. Barracks disguised as classrooms. It was always, almost normal. Always, almost kids in high school- until they see the phantom red on their hands, on each other. Until they're afraid of death, until they question if their friends will come back.

High school kids shouldn't worry about carrying their friends' corpses back, shouldn't be worrying about the infinite space that will be left from a desk taken away, two would be an awful number.

Sometimes though, when the skies were especially clear, the sun blinding enough that the classrooms felt like saunas and they had no choice but to take their lessons outside, it truly did feel like high school. On the grass, below a mighty tree, ancient with thick roots, winding with mossy branches, and rings of bark carrying the passage of time, they would laugh, too warm to sit still, too warm to listen.

The tree still stands there, to this day, though mightier in size. It holds now, his dearest memories and a neverending ache, as his eyes linger on the the three of them.

“Your eyes remind me of the sky,” he said.

Flat on his back, his head to the side, his eyes showed galaxies as they bore through his own. Two hands behind his head, as if he hadn’t a care in the world, as if he had forgotten the blood that was smeared on his hands just yesterday.

“They aren’t though, Suguru” he had said back.

Suguru. Suguru was the boy who had constellations in the creases of his irises, eyelashes saturated with stars, and long, long hair, silky strands that looked like ink from the poems in kanji, he had read as a child.

Suguru looked back at him. He was beautiful, so very beautiful. Suguru had called his eyes the heavens, the seven seas, the world, and at some point his home.

His eyes were a source of power and hierarchy. His eyes brought fear, he had been born with these eyes as a man, never a boy, never a child. A soldier through-and-through, a born weapon for jujitsu society, the name of the Gojo clan. His eyes were for humanity, as a hero, as a savior, and as a god. His eyes brought him a military routine, always a house, never a home. He had no parents, he belonged to no one but humanity and jujitsu society. His eyes were treacherous storms and lashes of waves, raging tsunamis.

But this boy with the soft voice and planetary systems as eyes had called him his. With Suguru, he would be Satarou, a boy in high school, with eyes that looked like a clear summer’s sky. They would be Suguru and Satarou doing whatever high schoolers would do.

A scoff from Satarous’ side broke the trance and Suguru looked back.

Shoko huffs out a soft chuckle, an unsmoked cigarette hanging from her smirking lips. Her eyes had deep bags under them but they still managed to sparkle as she rolled her eyes at them. One hand under her splayed brown hair, the other fiddling in her pockets certainly reaching for a lighter. After a few moments of rustling and-

“Honestly it's sexist, we can’t wear normal fucking pants with normal fucking pockets, fucking skirts”

She lit her cigarette with one hand, her other, now removed from under her head had reached out to Suguru to offer him one, and as always he would hesitate, and then after a second, the roll would easily slip away from her slim fingers to his. Shoko had tried with Satarou but he was never as easy as Suguru, he could still remember the days when Suguru would snatch the roll away from her lips and offer her a strawberry Chup Chups instead. She had scowled at him but never complained. When days were easy, no caskets and no disappearing friends. Before, their eyes looked darker, before the eyebags, before. Before he took cigarettes so easily.

It would be the three of them then, on the ground, splayed out on the grass until the sky turned golden, the occasional breeze, drifting leaves down on them, the smell of tobacco thick in the air, and laughter. Fits of laughter, uncontrollable and untameable, wheezing and breathless. Until all three of them would be coughing, Shoko clutching her stomach and Suguru on his side, laughter echoing through the desolate land that was Jujitsu high, and Satarou in the middle, smiling the biggest he’s ever smiled. Brimming happiness at a place that was so riddled with blood and tragedy.

They would be messy and noisy as teenagers would be, tangled up together, talking shit about teachers, cursing and complaining. Talking about unresolved crushes as their cheeks bloomed with a rosy blush, kicking their feet and twirling their hair or whatever people in love do. Gossiping about the parties they have and haven't been to, talking about that new cafe that opened downtown or that new clothing shop, the one that's biased about their sizes, they don’t even sell the right color nail polish, black, because they had a personal style under these uniforms they were trapped in.

When they had nothing else to talk about (finally) and the laughter had died down to comforting silences and content sighs with heads on shoulders, fingers intertwined, legs overlapping each others’, eyes slowly beginning to close after a lazy summer's day.

“Up, you dickheads”

Shoko would drag them up, a lazy smile on her face and two outstretched hands, the sky had passed its golden hour and a light purple welcomed dusk. Their cigarettes were finished now, on the grass, giving out the last of its smoke, the lights from the windows were just starting to flicker on, and the three of them would escape, leaving the formidable fortresses of jujitsu high. Leaving the echoes of bloodshed and death into a normal life, just for a second, where they would pretend to have calculus and The Great Gatsby as the biggest worries in life.

The street lamps lit the sidewalk, a few moths dancing along its light, where one lamp, as they proceeded along the path, would never function, it never had. An occasional rumble from an old car or a noisy neighborhood kid with a bicycle would break the silence. Shoko and Satarou would skip, hands held together like preschoolers while Suguru trudged along them, complaining with a smile on his lips. They would take the first right and walk by the few abandoned appliance stores, local grocery stores, and the house with the odd chimney and even weirder garden gnomes. They would pass by the small store that rented all sorts of manga, which would be surely closed by now but still had a myriad of fairy lights at the entrance that looked quite like fireflies this late and into a nook, the only store open this late, at the outskirts of Tokyo, up on the mountains, a lone corner store which sold everything from cigarettes to the most outrageous sodas. Where an old man, as fragile as china, looking as if he would crumble at a mere touch sat on a dainty, rickety, wooden chair. Every single time. He would smile expectedly, never speaking a word, as Shoko brought the cheapest cans of beer to the counter and would wave goodbye every time they left, without fail.

Who knew that such an old face could muster up that bright of a smile?

The three of them would locate the too-small bench at the back of the store, where there would be a mess of weeds and moss, an unkept backyard. They would manage to squeeze together, Shoko in the middle, and put their feet on the circular, metallic, rather rusty, rather large table in front of them. It was too warm for that but they didn’t care as they passed along the cans of beer, awfully bitter and terrible to the taste but good enough for their high school taste buds, until they were all completed and only the metallic cans were left rustling on the ground.

If they were drunk enough Shoko would slowly take off her hair clips and toss them on the metallic table which would land with a loud clang, normally waking Satarou from his drunken daze. Then she would lay her head on either of their shoulders and for a good old while, the three of them would lie there until Suguru would slowly coax the both of them from their slumber into the long way back.

And the times when even alcohol couldn’t lay their minds to rest, squeezed upon the bench, Suguru would bring out his collection of nail polish or Shoko would pull out a small speaker. They would paint their nails and listen to whatever indie music Shoko was into and they would stall because they were still too sober, even after the ten or so cans of beer passed along them.

Either way, they would always end up in Satarou’s room, on his bed, or on the floor, all three of them close together, sticky with sweat and alcohol, still in their uniforms, now horribly disheveled, hair sticking out from all places, soft limbs, looking like a bunch of troubled teenagers, like they should have been.

That would be their summer, their youth.

At present, the area around them has grown quite a lot, changed just like they had. More appliance stores, more grocery stores, though the house had gone now, replaced with a small cozy apartment building, the lamps all functioned, no manga store, that too had been replaced with a modern tourist office. The one thing that did remain though was that lone corner shop, the old man he heard, had died a few years back.

But the store remained where it stood, nothing had changed about it.

Youth, he recalled .

Youth.

#satosugu #gojo satoru #shoko ieiri #geto suguru #fanfiction #jjk fanfic #words #jujitsu kaisen #ao3 #I wrote this at like 1am and finished it at like 5 am #literature

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