#How to make vetiver water at home

[naturalhomeremediesco]

How to Use Vetiver For Skin Health

Traditionally, vetiver has been used as a digestive aid, and to remove anxiety and stress. It has also been used to get rid of intestinal worms and gallbladder problems. Vetiver root in addition to being extremely cooling to the system, by bringing down body heat, is also a natural antioxidant and alkalizer. It reduces inflammation in the body and soothes the body. Vetiver root calms your mind…

[ofmermaidstories]

hi merms ❤️ how are weeds and katsuki? ☺️

What’s today? Wednesday—so it’s a normal work day, for both of them. 🏙️🌷☀️ It’s still hot in the city, so every morning Weeds opens the retractable doors all the way, all the green and flowers spilling out onto the pavement. She waters some of the plants that need it, the concrete outside of the shop patchy and dark where it soaks in. It’s a relatively busy day! There’s a couple of bouquets for delivery to a hospital, the same (very loved) patient. Several walk-ins, as always. An older woman who dresses in bright yukatas in the summer, coming to collect her standing order of cosmos. Some trendy little publishing house across the city has ordered a massive arrangement for one of their authors, who lives nearby. Weeds handles peachy roses, queen anne’s lace—clustered explosions of tiny white flowers, clumped like floral fireworks. The shop smells cool and dark and of eucalyptus (foliage, for some orders this week) and the sweetened, grassy pine of cypress and vetiver; a candle, burning on the counter by til.

And Katsuki—

Katsuki is on the other side of the city at the Justice Tribunal, going through the security plans for the big festival. It’s a long day for him. He’s babysitting Izuku, who’s been spiralling in the wake of an argument with a friend—the pair of them patrolling together. He’s rarely at home in his apartment, these days, thanks to his long hours. His phone will ping, in the middle of this: Weed’s lunch, a couple of the fried curry buns from Akane, and a radish colesaw. He frowns. It’s a bright, hot day, all across the city.

(The florist shop will stay open into the hot evening, too, Kirishima coming past in the warm afternoon to say hello, gossip. Weeds will go home to her own place, tonight—making dinner, texting Katsuki, asking if he’s eaten. He won’t answer and it’ll be ten p.m., eleven p.m., and Weeds will be worried—he always tries to answer, at least—but then there’s a knock at the door, a click in the lock, and Katsuki will be there, tired and ready for bed.

He’ll let Weeds fuss over him—feed him, though he managed to grab a bite earlier. When he brushes his teeth she’ll hover, talking about her day, Akane’s gossip, Kirishima’s, the older woman who came in for her cosmos and called Weeds a good kid—he has to bend over Weed’s sink to rinse out his mouth but when he straightens he turns to her to kiss her, deeply, a broad hand in the small of her back.

“I’ll make yer lunch tomorrow,” he’ll say, low, pulling away just to press another kiss against her answering laugh, her fingers curling against the nape of his hair in delight. It’s a Wednesday, a normal day, and they are figuring it out. 🌷)

[witchvvolf]

excerpt from chapter five! false idol. I wanted to show off this super sweet scene because it makes me so so warm inside. I give to you: the washday scene. (rest of the excerpt and tags below the cut) I didn't finish it, but I couldn't not share!

“Let’s wash your hair.” Washdays were Sunday after church. Her mother would make pot roast, burn incense. Frankincense and Myrrh. She’d clean her children after service, make sure they were washed of any impurities. But Simon isn’t thinking of that. She sits on her knees with her head straight, the TV on but she’s not really watching. She feels him use a short nail to part her hair down the middle, then ear to ear. He’s careful not to pull too hard, using rubber bands to keep the sections secure. There's no incense burning as he does this, but she smells cedar and oak. She smells Simon, can almost taste the marijuana left in the ashtray.

“How long did this take you?” he asks, feeling him rake through the silky strands. Her hair wouldn’t smell like lavender after he washed it, it will smell like his shampoo, his conditioner. Him all over.

She shrugs, “Some odd number of hours, I’m unsure.”

He hums above her head. When she feels he’s done, she stands and he stands behind her, carefully directing her out of the way so he doesn’t bump into her. And then she follows him into the bathroom, finds herself on her knees again.

She didn’t pray, but she would pray for him. To him.

She’s picking at the skin of her thumb where a hangnail had already been testing her patience. It was soft beneath the hardened flap of skin, newborn, raw. He’s rolling up his sleeves and turning on the showerhead, testing the water with his large hand to make sure it’s not too hot.

“Ready?”

She nods and turns over, tilts her head skyward, met with the ceiling, her neck pressing into the porcelain of the tub. Another moment and she felt the water on her scalp, back left section. His face isn’t directly over hers, but her eyes move to find him. “Thank you,” she whispers.

“What for?” He whispers back, the moment now to be a shared secret.

“This.”

His smile is small, kind, sweet. His smile is Simons. “You’ve washed my hair; I can wash yours.” She feels him carefully tug the other back section loose, hands her the hair tie to roll onto her wrist, which she does.

They’re quiet after that. She feels her curls coming back, water running down the sides of her face. She’s some drowned hag, a sea witch in this moment. His fingertips are pressing into her scalp and she is ignoring the way that her neck hurts and instead focuses on the scent of honey and vetiver, and odd combination but his combination something she would willingly let herself drown in because for the moment she was actually at home. Home wasn’t her house, home was this moment, washing away her day, that awkward and suffocating car ride, four cloth rubber bands embedding themselves into her wrists.

honorary forrest faery tags to @coffeeandcalligraphy and @thewardenofwinter. as usual let me know if you would like to be added to the tag list!

[thebamboobae01]

Ultimate Guide to Cleaning and Maintaining Coconut Bowls and Glasses

As eco-conscious individuals, we love using natural products like coconut bowls and coconut glasses, but it's essential to know how to care for them properly to ensure their long usage and hygiene. Here we will explore simple and effective cleaning methods, and  tips for maintaining the natural beauty of your coconut bowls and glasses. Let's keep our sustainable kitchenware looking fresh and ready for many more eco-friendly meals to come!

Here Are The Tips to Clean Coconut Tableware:

Rinse with warm water and mild dish soap.

Gently scrub with a soft sponge or brush.

Avoid soaking or using abrasive cleaners.

Thoroughly dry with a clean cloth.

Apply coconut oil periodically to maintain shine.

Store in a cool, dry place away from sunlight.

Let's Go Through Some of Our Coconut Products and Its

Care:Coconut Bowl Care:

1. Coconut Bowl:

Upgrade your kitchen with these stylish and eco-friendly coconut bowls! Made from dried coconut shells, they offer both aesthetic appeal and natural extraction. Available in semi-polished, polished, or matte finishes, they suit any preference. Easy to clean and use, they're perfect for storing food, boasting a 100% natural, toxic-free, tasteless, and odourless composition. With a capacity of 350-400ml, they're both functional and environmentally friendly.

2. Coffee Candles:

This candle features soy wax that lasts three times longer than regular wax, along with a toxic-free, paraffin-free, and naturally sourced wooden wick. The reusable coconut shell bowladds a premium touch to your decor, making it perfect for nature lovers. Handcrafted by local artisans in India, each candle is unique in colour, shape, and texture, providing a one-of-a-kind experience. Experience the soothing aroma of coconut and coffee, handcrafted with care in India.

Read: Uses and Benefits of Vetiver Scrub

3. Coconut Soap Tray:

Crafted from recycled coconut shells, our soap tray is durable and reliable for long-term use. With a natural, non-toxic finish, it's ideal for those with allergies and sensitivities, adding an attractive touch to your kitchen or bathroom decor. Handcrafted with care, each coconut soap dish is unique in colour, shape, and texture, providing a one-of-a-kind experience. Made in India by local artisans, this eye-catching soap dish brings the natural essence of coconut into your home.

4. Shot Glasses: 

These handcrafted coconut shot glasses are natural coconut glasses, unique in design and texture. Suitable for house party]ies, drinking with friends, and even for  gifting purposes. Its capacity ranges from 80 to 100 ml. The set of 4 is artisan-made, coming in size variation, shape variation, and colour variation. 

Read: What Things in a Stationery Kit?

5. Cleaning Scrub:

Tired of using conventional nylon scrubbers? Switch to The Bamboobae’s all-natural coconut coir scrubber, an ecofriendly alternative made from  typically discarded coconut fibres. Designed for effective cleaning, it fits comfortably in your hand, providing a good grip and coverage for efficient dishwashing. Unlike conventional nylon pads, coconut fibre scrubbers are sustainable and scratch-free, suitable for washing various materials including glass, stainless steel, cast iron, and non-stick coatings. Plus, they are odour-free and mould-resistant, thanks to the quick-dry properties of coconut fibres. Make the eco-conscious choice for your kitchen today!

6. Eco-Friendly Gift Box:

The bamboobae offers eco-friendly gift boxes, ideal for friends, colleagues, and spouses in the UAE, promoting a healthier lifestyle. Perfect for the growing trend of remote work, this sustainable hamper enhances work-from-home life with style and eco-consciousness. Featuring coconut shell snack bowls, reusable bamboo cutlery, and a borosilicate glass cork lid water pitcher bottle, it elevates snacking and dining while reducing waste. Impress coworkers and friends alike with this Zero Waste Essentials Gift Hamper, blending sustainability and functionality for a thoughtful and impactful gift.

Check: Bamboo Essentials: Must-Have Products for an Eco-Friendly Lifestyle in the UAE

Cleaning and maintaining coconut bowls and glasses is a simple process that can help preserve their natural beauty and durability. By following these tips, you can ensure that your coconut tableware remains in great condition for years to come. Remember to rinse with mild soap, avoid abrasive cleaners, and periodically apply coconut oil to keep them looking their best. With proper care, your coconut bowls and glasses will continue to bring a touch of natural elegance to your table settings.

[jasminejal]

The Magic of Jasmine Jal: Vetiver Water Explained

Imagine a tranquil evening where the air is filled with a serene, earthy aroma that soothes your senses and eases your mind. This isn’t just a dream but a reality you can create with Jasmine Jal, a unique and enchanting form of vetiver water. As someone deeply immersed in the world of fragrances and wellness, I’m thrilled to take you on a journey through the magic of Jasmine Jal. We'll explore its origins, benefits, and how you can incorporate this luxurious elixir into your life.

What is Jasmine Jal?

Definition and Description

Jasmine Jal, also known as vetiver water, is a fragrant byproduct derived from vetiver roots. The term “Jasmine Jal” translates to “water of jasmine” in some languages, highlighting its delicate yet complex aroma. This versatile liquid has a deep, earthy fragrance with subtle hints of sweetness, making it a cherished component in many traditional and modern practices.

Historical Background

Vetiver, the plant from which Jasmine Jal is made, has been used for centuries. Its roots have been prized for their aromatic qualities and medicinal properties. Historically, cultures across South Asia, the Middle East, and even parts of Africa have utilized vetiver water in various ways—from religious ceremonies to traditional medicine. Its longstanding history speaks volumes about its enduring significance and effectiveness.

Cultural Significance

In many South Asian cultures, Jasmine Jal is more than just a fragrant water; it’s a symbol of purity and tranquility. It’s often used in religious rituals to purify spaces and objects, and its calming properties are believed to foster spiritual well-being. By integrating Jasmine Jal into your daily routine, you’re not only enhancing your sensory experiences but also connecting with a rich cultural heritage.

The Process of Making Jasmine Jal

Harvesting Vetiver

The journey of Jasmine Jal begins with the vetiver plant. Vetiver roots are carefully harvested, usually by hand, to ensure they are free from damage. The roots are then cleaned and prepared for the extraction process. This meticulous harvesting process ensures that the final product is of the highest quality.

Extraction Method

To create Jasmine Jal, the vetiver roots undergo steam distillation. In this method, steam is passed through the plant material, causing the essential oils to evaporate. These oils are then condensed and collected. This process preserves the delicate balance of compounds in vetiver, resulting in a water that’s rich in aroma and therapeutic properties.

Quality Factors

High-quality Jasmine Jal is characterized by its clarity and purity. It should have a deep, rich color and a robust, earthy fragrance. When selecting Jasmine Jal, look for products that are free from additives and synthetic fragrances. Pure Jasmine Jal will provide the most authentic and beneficial experience.

Key Components and Benefits

Chemical Composition

Jasmine Jal contains a complex mix of compounds, including vetiverol, vetivone, and khusimol. These compounds contribute to its distinctive fragrance and therapeutic benefits. Understanding these components can help you appreciate why Jasmine Jal is so effective and versatile.

Therapeutic Benefits

The benefits of Jasmine Jal extend far beyond its delightful scent. It has been shown to reduce stress, promote relaxation, and even improve mental clarity. The calming effects of Jasmine Jal can help alleviate anxiety and create a peaceful environment. It’s also known for its skin benefits, including moisturizing and soothing properties that can improve skin texture and tone.

Aromatic Qualities

The aroma of Jasmine Jal is both grounding and uplifting. Its earthy scent can help create a calming atmosphere, making it ideal for use in aromatherapy. Whether you’re looking to enhance your meditation practice or simply want to enjoy a relaxing evening at home, Jasmine Jal can be a wonderful addition to your routine.

Uses and Applications

In Aromatherapy

In aromatherapy, Jasmine Jal is used to promote relaxation and reduce stress. You can use it in a diffuser to fill your space with its calming scent or add a few drops to your bathwater for a soothing experience. Its grounding aroma helps create a serene environment, making it an excellent choice for those looking to enhance their mental well-being.

In Skincare

Jasmine Jal’s benefits extend to skincare as well. Its moisturizing and soothing properties make it a great addition to facial toners, masks, and serums. Incorporating Jasmine Jal into your skincare routine can help balance your skin’s moisture levels and improve its overall appearance.

In Rituals and Traditions

Jasmine Jal is often used in various rituals and traditions, especially in South Asian cultures. It’s used to purify spaces, objects, and even individuals during religious ceremonies. By incorporating Jasmine Jal into your own rituals, you can connect with these ancient practices and enhance your spiritual well-being.

DIY Jasmine Jal Recipes

Homemade Vetiver Water

Creating your own Jasmine Jal at home can be a rewarding experience. Here’s a simple recipe to get you started:

Ingredients: Fresh vetiver roots, distilled water.

Instructions:

Clean and chop the vetiver roots.

Place the roots in a distillation apparatus with distilled water.

Heat the water to produce steam, which will carry the essential oils.

Collect the condensed steam in a separate container, which will be your Jasmine Jal.

Recipes for Skincare

You can create a soothing facial toner using Jasmine Jal:

Ingredients: 1/4 cup Jasmine Jal, 1/4 cup rose water, 1 teaspoon witch hazel.

Instructions:

Mix all ingredients in a clean bottle.

Shake well before use.

Apply to your face using a cotton pad, avoiding the eye area.

Aromatherapy Blends

To create a calming aromatherapy blend:

Ingredients: 5 drops Jasmine Jal, 3 drops lavender essential oil, 2 drops sandalwood essential oil.

Instructions:

Combine the oils in a diffuser or in a small bottle.

Add water if using a diffuser.

Enjoy the calming aroma.

Choosing and Storing Jasmine Jal

How to Choose Quality Jasmine Jal

When selecting Jasmine Jal, opt for products that are clear, with a deep, rich color. Authentic Jasmine Jal should be free from artificial additives and synthetic fragrances. Look for products that provide information about the source and extraction method to ensure you’re getting a high-quality product.

Storage Tips

To preserve the potency and fragrance of Jasmine Jal, store it in a cool, dark place. Avoid exposing it to direct sunlight or high temperatures, as this can affect its quality. Keeping Jasmine Jal in an airtight container will also help maintain its freshness.

Potential Side Effects and Precautions

Possible Allergic Reactions

While Jasmine Jal is generally safe for most people, it’s important to be aware of potential allergic reactions. If you have sensitive skin or allergies, it’s a good idea to perform a patch test before using Jasmine Jal extensively. If you experience any irritation or discomfort, discontinue use and consult with a healthcare professional.

Usage Precautions

Use Jasmine Jal in moderation and follow recommended guidelines for its application. If you’re pregnant, nursing, or have any underlying health conditions, consult with a healthcare professional before using Jasmine Jal, especially in aromatherapy or skincare products.

Where to Buy Jasmine Jal

When it comes to purchasing Jasmine Jal, look for reputable sources that provide detailed information about their products. Choosing a trusted seller ensures that you receive high-quality Jasmine Jal that meets your expectations.

Jasmine Jal, or vetiver water, is a remarkable substance with a rich history and numerous benefits. From its calming and therapeutic properties to its versatility in skincare and aromatherapy, Jasmine Jal offers a world of possibilities. By incorporating this luxurious elixir into your daily routine, you’re not only enhancing your well-being but also connecting with a timeless tradition.

So, why not embrace the magic of Jasmine Jal? Discover its enchanting aroma and experience the benefits for yourself. With Jasmine Jal, you’re not just adding a new product to your routine; you’re inviting a piece of ancient wisdom and tranquility into your life.

FAQs

What is Jasmine Jal?

Jasmine Jal is a fragrant water derived from vetiver roots, known for its calming and therapeutic properties.

How is Jasmine Jal made?

Jasmine Jal is made through the steam distillation of vetiver roots, which extracts the essential oils and creates the fragrant water.

What are the main benefits of Jasmine Jal?

Jasmine Jal helps reduce stress, promotes relaxation, improves mental clarity, and benefits the skin with its moisturizing properties.

Can I make Jasmine Jal at home?

Yes, you can make Jasmine Jal at home using a distillation process with fresh vetiver roots and distilled water.

How should I store Jasmine Jal?

Store Jasmine Jal in a cool, dark place and keep it in an airtight container to maintain its freshness and quality.

Are there any side effects of using Jasmine Jal?

Jasmine Jal is generally safe, but it’s important to perform a patch test if you have sensitive skin or allergies to avoid irritation.

How can I use Jasmine Jal in skincare?

Jasmine Jal can be used in facial toners, masks, and serums to enhance skin hydration and improve texture.

What is the best way to use Jasmine Jal in aromatherapy?

Use Jasmine Jal in a diffuser or add a few drops to your bathwater to create a calming and relaxing atmosphere.

How do I choose high-quality Jasmine Jal?

Look for Jasmine Jal that is clear, rich in color, and free from additives or synthetic fragrances. Check for detailed product information from reputable sources.

Can Jasmine Jal be used in religious rituals?

Yes, Jasmine Jal is often used in religious and cultural rituals for purification and creating a serene environment.

[amwritesitall]

Assigning the Sarahs Imaginary Authors Perfumes

Niche content from yours truly. I did spend a lot of time contemplating this though. Also, the "notes" and "when to wear" section is from imaginary authors website

Masterlist

Billie Dean Howard

Fragrance Name: Whispered Myths

Notes: Natural Cambodian Oud, Cantaloupe, Cedarwood, Muskdana, Honey, Salvaged Shipwreck

When to Wear: This is a classic scent with deep historic undertones. It is long-lasting, bold, and artful. Wear it with reverence and appreciate your dynamic place in this big, crazy world.

Lana Winters

Fragrance Name: Slow Explosions

Notes: Saffron, Rose Absolute, Leather, Apple, Benzoin, Cashmeran, Arpora Night Market

When to Wear: With pops of rose and hits of saffron, this scent explodes on the skin and awakens the senses. Every inhale will open you up to the idea of escape, push you to take risks, and embolden you to get truly lost. Let us know how it goes.

Cordelia Goode

Fragrance Name: Saint Julip

Notes: Sweet Mint, Tangerine, Southern Magnolia, Bourbon, Grisalva, Sugarcube

When to Wear: When the weight of the world seems too much to bear, a prayer to Saint Julep will not only soothe, it will give you the aplomb to keep marching forward.

Bette and Dot

Fragrance Name: Yesterday Haze

Notes: Fig, Iris, Cream, Tonka, Tree Bark, Walnut Bitters, Orchard Dust

When to Wear: The seductive, dreamlike quality of this scent works like a magnet. Use it liberally during the day and, as it lingers into night, watch as those around you are lured into your sphere.

Sally McKenna

Fragrance Name: A City on Fire

Notes: Cade oil, Spikenard, Cardamom, Clearwood, Dark Berries, Labdanum, Burnt Match

When to Wear: The refined smoke accord makes this an austere and luxurious scent for evenings on the town, whether with a special someone or alone and looking for trouble.

Audrey Tindall

Fragrance Name: Sundrunk

Notes: Neroli, Rhubarb, Honeysuckle, Rose Water, Orange Zest, First Kiss

When to Wear: The obvious choice is to plunge into this scent at the peak of summer, allowing the cool citrus to wash your worries away. Less obvious is to douse yourself in the darker months, letting your skin soak up the sun and radiate it outward when it matters most.

Ally Mayfair-Richards

Fragrance Name: Fox in the Flowerbed

Notes: Jasmine, Tulips, Frankincense, Wildflower Honey, Pink Peppercorns, Silver Thistle, Alpine Air

When to Wear: Wearing this floral wonder will amplify the beauty in everything. It’s a versatile scent, doubling as a mood-lifter during the day and bringing an ethereal elegance to nights out. Don't be led astray by the name, there is nothing animalic or off-putting about this scent.

Wilhemina Venable

Fragrance Name: O, Unknown!

Notes: Black Tea, Lapsang Souchong Tincture, Orris Butter, Kyoto Moss, Musk Balsam, Sandalwood, ???

When to Wear: At the risk of sounding bleak, this night could be your last. Splash on O, Unknown! and plunge forth into prosperity and joy. Repeat as often as you are able.

Mildred Ratched

Fragrance Name: Every Storm a Serenade

Notes: Danish Spruce, Eucalyptus, Vetiver, Calone, Ambergris, Baltic Sea Mist

When to Wear: Don’t be detoured by perceptions of ambergris, this is an everyday scent for those with discriminating taste.

Harriet Hayes

Fragrance Name: Memoirs of a Trespasser

Notes: Madagascar Vanilla, Guaiacwood, Myrrh, Benzoin Resin, Ambrette Seeds, Oak Barrels

When to Wear: A true adventure scent, wear Memoirs of a Trespasser when traveling, and again when you’re back home to conjure comforting memories.

Alice Macray

Fragrance Name: Telegrama

Notes: Talc, Lavender Absolute, Black Pepper, Teak, Amyris, Vanilla Powder, Fresh Linens

When to Wear: Inspired by a vintage first-class experience, this plush scent has the ability to turn even the most ordinary day into something dignified and memorable. Indulge often.

[suzloo]

Omega Team Bucciarati headcanons please? (Excluding Giorno since you already did omega headcanons on him)

Omega Team Bucciarati Headcanons

Bruno Bucciarati:

- He's the pack mother.

- He's always wanted kids, even if he is so young and works a dangerous job, he's always just wanted a family.

- So when all these wayward pups, who had nowhere to go, nowhere to call home, or even a family, he couldn't resist himself. They were all so young (save for Abbachio) and were all omegas who had presented early and had no one to guide them into surving the world as omegas, so he decided that he would be the one to take that responsibility.

- He makes sure all of his team is taken care of, that they all have the appropriate scent blockers or heat suppressants when they have to go on missions.

- He made his team a heat room, so that they could all have their heats in peace, it's stocked with food and water, and even toys for when the heats get too bad and they need relief.

- He gets very cuddly during his heats, so sometimes he'll actually prefer that his heats sync up with someone so that he'll have someone to cuddle.

- Bruno's scent is very sensual and spicy, like bergamot, heliotrope and vanilla.

Leone Abbacchio:

- He prefers to hide his omega status, even if he is surrounded by omegas.

- Him being an omega got him shit talked when he was on the police force and when his partner was killed, people claimed that he couldn't protect him because he was a weak omega, which only drove him down a darker path.

- He used to take an overwhelming amount of heat suppressants and scent blockers, trying to erase his status altogether, but he took them with alcohol, which made his body sick, so his body rejects heat suppressants and scent blockers to this day, which is why he ends up missing out on a lot of missions. Bruno offered him scent blockers and heat suppressants in injection form, instead of pill form, but they still make his body feel weird and weak.

- Because of his heat suppressant abuse, he has irregular heats that come and stay for inconsistent amounts of time. Sometimes his heat will skip a lot of the time or he'll have one every few months that lasts maybe a day or two, but other times they hit him hard, giving him superheats that'll sometimes last up to a week or two and it's absolute torture for his body, especially if he can't find a knot to ride on, he has to resort to either using toys or his own fingers to give him some relief.

- Leone's scent is spicy yet mysterious. He smells like violet, vetiver and ylang-ylang

Guido Mista:

- He's actually content with his Omega status and never really had a problem with it, until he got arrested and was certain that he was going to spend 30 years of his life in prison. Prisons are notorious for not protecting omegas or giving them the proper healthcare that they needed and even allowed them to be assaulted by their Alpha cellmates during their heats, so Mista knew that he wouldn't be able to survive, which is why he's so grateful that Bucciarati bailed him out.

- Even though he might not look or act like it, Mista is a very nurturing omega and it shows with how he treats his stand but will always deny it. He gets really nurturing when he's about to start his heat too, he hist gets the unbearable feeling that he needs to make sure everyone is taken care of.

- He doesn't outright say it, but he does want pups one day.

- If it looks like his heat is going to last for 4 days instead of his usual 3, he will freak out so someone has to stay in the heat room with him until he stops freaking out.

- He doesn't smell like an omega, he actually smells like an alpha, meaning that he has a really musky scent and he smells real earthy instead of sweet or spicy and because he smells like an Alpha, sometimes team members will approach him with something to scent, since smells that smell like an Alpha, will help them during their heats.

Narancia Ghirga:

- He presented at a really early age, which increased his father's mistreatment of him after his mother died.

- When he started living on the streets, he had to find the most secure places to hide, since he was a very young omega who was just starting to develop heats and had no access to scent blockers or heat suppressants.

- It was even worse when he got sent to juvy, since he was one of the only few who was presented as early as he was, an omega no less, he had to constantly fight for his safety from other inmates, but couldn't protect himself from guards.

- It got even worse when he got out and his "friends" eventually shunned him for having an eye disease and for being an omega.

- He initially joined the mafia without Bruno's knowledge because he was promised suppressants and scent blockers if he passed the test, which he did.

- Narancia may have presented early but he still acts more like a pup than an actual omega and still does pup mannerisms, like chewing on things, nipping people or gently headbutting their arms for attention, and makes loud whining or whimpering noises when he's upset or frustrated.

- Narancia's scent smells very sweet and citrusy, like oranges or tangerines.

Pannacotta Fugo:

- He presented early and was labeled a feral omega because of his temper.

- It got even worse when he attacked the Alpha teacher who tried to assault him and rumors spread that he was so feral that he randomly attacked a teacher.

- Fugo feared that no Alpha would ever want him because of his temper and him being labeled 'feral' and then later in life adopted the ideology that all alphas were jerks who only wanted to use him, so he gave up on dreaming of finding someone and mating for life.

- He's knows that he'll probably never get to have pups, since his chance of finding a mate is low and because of his temper, he doesn't think that he would be able to control himself and have enough patience to deal with pups, so he thinks no pup is safe around him.

- His heats are pretty normal, despite the fact that he gets a lot more irritable when he's about to start one, so everyone tends to stay out of his way and do things that won't anger him, Bruno supplying him with things to comfort him and make him feel calm during his heats.

- Fugo has a really pleasant scent, smelling of black tea, cardamom and saffron. His scent is really fresh and comforting, so sometimes members of the team will approach him and ask him to scent something of theirs before their heat starts because his scent is really soothing.

[heartj4yn0]

(17:15pm)

Sehun and you shampooing your son’s hair together lol

The front door opened, signalling Sehun’s arrival. Seyoung, your six year old came running to greet Sehun with his dinosaur plushie bought during Sehun’s business trip. Seyoung would bring Mr Snuggles, the triceratops everywhere he goes. The minute his cousins hide it, he would immediately burst into tears while yelling yours and Sehun’s name. It would always be a mess. But now, you knew better. You got an air tag especially for Mr Snuggles so that you’ll be able to locate it. Seyoung immediately got ahold of Sehun’s hands and pulled him towards his room, wanting to show the new storybook you helped him make. Sehun read the book to him and he felt sleepy.

After preparing dinner for the two of you in the kitchen, you went to Seyoung’s room to see what the daddy-son duo was up to and your heart burst with love. This is exactly what you imagined your future to be like and it actually looked like it. You couldn’t help but smile at your favorite boys. You noticed Seyoung’s drooping eyes, you knocked softly on the door, making Sehun aware of your presence. He knew what the look meant– get Seyoung ready for bed.

Sehun slowly shook the six year old, “Hey lil guy, let’s wash up! Mommy’s waiting with your rubber Dinos!” he softly said. Seyoung sleepily nodded as a response. He then picked up your little guy and brought him to the bathroom. The tub was filled with warm ‘birthday cake-scented’ water; just how Seyoung likes it along with his rubber Dinos placed in a beeline.

You squeezed a dollop of shampoo onto your palm, rubbing them together to create bubbles and then plopping it onto your six years old’s fluffy hair– just like his dad’s. The good genes, they say. You were busy massaging Seyoung’s scalp when Sehun and Seyoung had a water war, they kept splashing water at each other making Sehun drenched in birthday cake water. The domesticity of the act made you feel at home. It felt so warm.

As Sehun helped Seyoung with his pjs, you sprayed some kid’s hair serum and combed the shampooed hair of his. Seyoung looked exactly like his dad– definitely a clone. Next time, I’m asking for my own clone, enough of Sehun’s cloning machine. Chilly room. The room smelled of lavender, marjoram, vetiver and chamomile. Sleepy child tucked into a fluffy blanket, not forgetting Mr Snuggles. As you closed the door, Sehun hugged you from the back, you could feel the warmth emitting from his body. You did well today, he said. You muttered a small thank you. To more days like this.

[not me dreaming about this,,,anyways...]

love,

heartj4yn0.

DO NOT COPY, TRANSLATE, REPOST WITHOUT PERMISSION.

[yuezhong]

Lavender and Jasmine

rengoku kyojuro x g/n reader comfort + modern au 

A/N: this is dedicated to @redgokus event and @wisteriashouse (my two writing senpais for Rengoku writings.) Also tagging @kingtamakimurder​ bc she said she wanted to be tagged in it, and @adoriable​  love you bbys <33

Brief summary: kyojuro comforts you after a tiring day at work

Genres: fluff, comfort

Warnings: none

Word count: 925

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Mondays were your most dreaded days of the week.

You worked in a cozy little coffee shop in the heart of ikebukuro, a little further from your  house which was situated in shibuya. With your position as a barista, it was your duty to be in charge of prepping the beverages, namely caffeinated ones for customers who frequented the small shop.

Mornings and afternoons were the peak hours in your workplace everyday. Patrons trickled in like a constantly flowing stream to make their purchases, college and university students alike went about projects on their laptops, sounds of their fingers pressing on the keys of their respective keyboards and scribbling of their pencils scratching against paper created a pleasant backdrop of white noise. Children who tagged along with their parents clung tightly to their sides; whereas some that were more mischievous scampered around the shop animatedly, their eagerness to explore the place spurred them to forego any warnings given by their poor parents and the employees. 

Still, you love your job. Your co-workers always had your back, your boss is extremely considerate and understanding, your regulars being the sweetest people who enjoyed striking up a conversation with you everytime they dropped by⎯⎯mostly to catch up with you on your daily life and wellbeing. 

And of course, Your loving boyfriend whose presence never failed to dismiss the post-work blues as well as soothe the exhaustion that goes hand-in-hand. To help you take all the tiredness away, to melt the remains of after-work jitters into ashes when you have had to deal with an unpleasant customer, to laden you with all his sweetness and compassion. 

Rengoku Kyojuro. Your lips curl into a fond smile as the image of your lover’s vibrant one that always made your heart race and serotonin levels spike snakes into your train of thought. Boarding the subway with haste, you seated yourself on one of the vacant seats in the express, heels bouncing with anticipation of being greeted by his sunshine grin.

A few more gruelling hours crawl by when the train finally halts at the station of shibuya. Descending the metro while humming along to a random song currently playing on your Spotify playlist, you added a skip to your steps in hopes of speeding up your pace despite the lethargy that was yanking at your ankles and the aches that resonated throughout your entire body. 

Fortunately, the walk back home didn’t last very long. In a mere fifteen minutes, you were met with a familiar door that led to the two-storeyed terrace you shared with your beloved. Fishing for your keys through the various collection of items in your paper brown messenger bag, a silent curse escapes your lips as you fumble with a tube of lip balm to free the ring of the bundle that had somehow gotten stuck below it.

With a few more tugs, you managed to pull the little ring of trouble free successfully. Inserting the key into the lock, you turned it and pushed the door open⎯⎯exhaling a fatigued ‘I’m home’.

“Darling!” Kyojuro beams, making a beeline for you before gathering you into his strong arms, hoisting you up and twirling you around. 

“Kyo!” Squealing, you squeezed his shoulders; a small laugh bubbling out of you as your eyes shuttered into the shapes of crescent moons.

With his goofy grin still plastered on his face, he set you down. 

“How was work today?”

The exasperated sigh that left your lips said it all. Nodding, a flicker of comprehension materializes in his eyes- red irises ringed with gold, eyes that flared with the semblance of flames; though not scorching with intensity, but mellow and warm. 

“Say, why don’t you go ahead and have a cup of tea while I go draw you a bath hm?” Wrapping a gentle arm around your shoulders, he hustles you towards the dining table⎯⎯where the mug of piping hot beverage awaits, steam still wafting and emitting a light, floral scent which you recognized instantly.

“Jasmine tea?” 

He nods in affirmation again, then goes on to ramble about how he heard that jasmine tea is good for rejuvenating the spirit after a long day and whatnot⎯⎯until a relieved groan from you draws his attention back.  

“Oh right! The bath!” Sprinting into the bathroom, the sound of running water that hits the tub is heard, followed by rustling as Kyojuro opens a plastic bag and empties its contents, placing them gingerly in the innermost corner of the bathtub. 

Curiosity piqued, you placed the now lukewarm drink back onto the table and padded to where your lover was. Hearing your footsteps, the man turns around to give you a momentary glance before resuming his task.

“What are those?” His line of sight followed your finger and landed on the two bottles of essential oils. 

“Lavender and Vetiver essential oils! I heard both have calming effects and can help relax the body and soul! Hence I went to Kocho-san’s apothecary shop to purchase them!” He chirps.

As you continue to watch him, you couldn’t help but feel the corners of your lips lift up in the slightest. 

“Thank you…” enveloping him into a hug from behind, you whispered, resting your chin on his left shoulder. 

Kyojuro only smiles as his right hand creeps into your hair, ruffling it lovingly. 

The start of your day might have been rough, but it ended on a tuneful note with Kyojuro by your side⎯⎯the evening sun casting its rays onto both of your skins, illuminating you two in an incandescent twinkle.

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if you wish to be tagged in any of my works, do state your username and the character(s) you want to be added to in this post 

[hope-to-hell]

Dream State: Wood and Water. August Walker x Reader. Smut, but just a little. He is so very close. Just a little further now. You always knew he couldn’t stay gone— like a bad penny, he always turns up. Or maybe he’s like the sunrise, like water, like the chaos of the elements.

Once upon a time this dream was bright and endless; once upon a time you might have walked here together, looking down at schools of tiny silver fish and thinking about anything except the job. Once upon a time.

Here underneath the water, down in the soft dark silt, there is no sound except the thrum of blood in your ears and the delicate ah of bubbles rising from your lips. It’s easy here, swaying with the current, thinking about nothing. The water slides into your lungs and all around is—

Oh.

The hand at the front of your shirt is gripping tight and here the light is growing stronger; all around are clouds of bubbles, little silver fishes, and his face with its curls floating all around in disarray. He is speaking and with his words he breaks the surface; he pulls you close and you are home.

Well, not home. Not exactly, not at all.

This is. Is it? Pet, I saw you on the stairs that night and thought of all the ways to make you mine. You’d fall under my spell, bound about by all my clever words. I’d tell you all about the way I fuck and the way I watch the sun rise. I’d let these words drop into your ears as I stood with my chin resting on your head. I saw you on the stairs and thought maybe, maybe, I had found a respite. Maybe I had found a little quiet mossy hollow, cool and soft and something like peace.

I

Shh. There’s not much time. Let me have this while I can. All the many marble columns here are crumbling; they fall into the water and they are soundless. They are pretty things, dying things. They are the last memories of those who came before and now are gone.

Aug—

Shh. Don’t say it. Keep my name inside your throat. Hold it safe for me.

In dreams and doorways, in the soft scratch of jute rope over skin, in the little secret spaces where no one ever thinks to look for him because there’s no way he could ever fit— these are the places August hides. He hides and listens for the drip of rain from the eaves, for the sound of your breath as you turn your face into the pillow, chasing a scent that’s long since faded. August hides and all the hounds are closing on him.

And here, as colonnades crumble and water heaves upward in their wake, as boardwalks and stairways slip down into the dark: here August takes your shoulder between his teeth and bites down hard. He leaves a mark like in the old days, indents of teeth that already have begun to blossom into bruises. And when you gasp�� because how can you not— his smile is bright and sharp against your skin. Even here. Even now, like this, you’re mine. Knives couldn’t stop you, bonds couldn’t hold you. When you drowned you took my breath into your lungs.

I’ll lead you home. I miss you, more than I know how to say.

This is the dream that is no longer a dream. This is the sound of rain in the back of your mind, and the blossom of arousal as August grips your soul and pulls it with his teeth. It’s a thread like gossamer, like blood in water, like spiders’ silk on the breeze, and August holds the end of it and breathes. This is the connection, the circle and the spiral. This is August pulling his heels from the jaws of hellhounds and riding your back like a demon.

You’ll pull me out.

I’ll take you in. And he is fierce and hard and suddenly inside you, because dream or waking, life or death, August laces sex into everything he does; every movement is a metaphor and every breath is a reminder of how he’s wrecked you. He heard the whisper of his name as you sobbed into the pillow that night, overcome with loneliness; he heard the way you called for him as you rode your hand; and now he hears with all his self as he works your anima between his teeth.

Never took what wasn’t freely given. Never had to. Never wanted to. What would be the point? His digression is another turn of the spiral, winding deeper down your throat as he follows the silver thread of you to its source. Do you see the way the columns crumble? Look, pet. Galaxies turn and die and in their dying are reborn, but they are different now, and strange, and far away.

Rain against the glass.

Hey, August. What’s your deepest, darkest secret?

Vetiver and oranges on the pillow.

Hey, August. Where do you think we go when we die?

Coffee on your breath and on the table and on the floor when you realized

Hey, August. Bring me chocolates?

He wasn’t coming back. Until that night when you saw him deep in shadow, when his voice echoed in the rafters and you knew he was still out there somewhere. He is August fucking Walker, and if anyone is unkillable it’s him. He has to be, because in all of this there must be meaning; there must be more to this than the twists and turns of grief. Rain falls at the edges of the dream; it is always fucking raining and soon he will be home.

[generallybrontidefeelings]

News for you

A/N: OKAY, gave myself a break to write this lil thing because I needed some fluff from the angst pit I dug myself into. Written for @221bshrlocked #maggies17 writing challenge! Thank you for the prompt, madam, I had fun with this :) also any mistakes belong to me!

Pairing: Javier Peña x reader, Javier Peña x you

Summery: Javi and Steve recruit you, a humble photographer, for a hop, skip, and a jump of a mission. It goes sideways. 

Prompt: 66 “I’ve decided to write a how-to manual and you’re going to be the ‘what not to do’ example.”

Warnings: unbeta’d. T rating, a swear word? Tension, adrenaline! fluff, hiding in the trunk of a car? Protective DEA agents. A smooch! A very self-indulgent comfort fic

Words: ~3K ish

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Javier-ommph.” His shoulders bonked your nose as he turned himself over and around in the trunk of the bronco, further squishing you between himself and Steve. “It’s been three hours. If no one shows up, I’m going to kill you!”

“Okay, honey, later,” he mumbled, looking past you out the rearview window. Low yellow light from the Bogotà street lamps hit his eyes and left the rest of his face in the shadows. His chest rose and fell as he scanned outside, past your head. Behind you, you hear Steve fiddling with his sidearm, clicking the cylinder into place. It’s the lowness, the calming choice of words that make the situation really click for you. 

You had stayed as still as you could on your side, sandwiched between the DEA agents’ shoulders. Imagining yourself cartoonishly small helped the awkwardness of having to choose between your ass bumping Steve’s hip, and your thigh lying against Javi’s. The three of you lie very still, listening. 

This wasn’t your job. Your job was to sit in the CIA designated office, walk files back and forth between offices, and develop crime scene photos. That was it. It was not as Javi had phrased it ‘doing us a huge favor’ by playing ‘date’ for the evening so he and Murphy could discreetly plant a camera in a hotel room across the way from some sicario’s hideaway. Without thinking too much about it, you tucked your nose against Javi’s shoulder and worked on compartmentalizing what was happening around you. He smelled like faded vetiver, the orange he’d eaten while waiting for Steve to install the tiny camera, and sweat drawn on by the humidity. He met your eyes, glowing sharp and dark under the lamplight, and you saw his apology in them. 

The back of the bronco opened you inhaled sharply and squeezed your eyes shut, yelping as Javi’s whole body lands on you, and preparing for noise.

“It’s clear, agents, you can come out.”

The image Carillo found when he opened the trunk would have been comical. The gringos bodies squished impossibly in the trunk of the Bronco; Murphy and his dumbass long legs curled upward like a dried-out harvestman blinking in the flashlight glare, and behind him, Peña practically lying on top of a you - a woman he vaguely recognized from the embassy if he squinted. And it didn’t look like the way Peña normally lied over women. Your face heated up under the warm flashlights and your own welling relief. 

When the car door started rattling, Javier had tried to crawl over you and push you behind him, or under him, somewhere not as vulnerable. But in the cramped quarters, he’d only gotten as far as moving his back completely on top of you so you were the big spoon - a big spoon who was near suffocating and panicking. His ass fell heavily into your hip bone, sending a shooting pain down your leg. All you could see was Javi’s shoulder, and the blinding flashlights of the Search Bloc men. 

“Did you get the camera installed?” Carillo asks, as you try to stay still under Javi’s deadweight.

“Yeah, it’s in.” His voice reverberates through you, and you want to smack him for dragging you into this situation. 

“You better get up, Peña, or you’ll suffocate that poor woman.” Your eyes popped open, and you gave in, smacking Javi on the shoulder until he moved. You hissed when you tried to sit up, your hip burning and calve cramping at the same time. The flashlights died, and you were back to sitting in the orange hued shadows inside the Bronco trunk. 

“All right, lady?” Steve asked, hanging his legs off the trunk of the car. Men with rifles stalk around the vehicle, one reporting to Carillo, another two keeping sharp eyes out. It’s quiet for the amount of bodies milling around.  

“Yeah-ow. I’ll be okay.” Javi was moving quietly, looking apologetic, glancing between your sore hip and your face. 

“You’re heavy, Peña,” you say, more to let him know you’re all right, all right enough to give him shit. His lips quirked up a little, and he let his body stretch out, leaning on the trunk ledge. You gently massaged the area that hurt while Javi and Carillo talked together, only catching a few words here and there. It feels like forever later, you sandwiched again sitting on the edge of the trunk between Steve and Javi, swinging your sneakers in little arcs, trying to control your facial expressions. You see Carillo jerk his chin at you, and Javi looks you over before answering. In an unexpected display, Carillo smacks Javi on the shoulder as well, saying what you guess is an expletive before turning and gathering his men. 

“Okay, here’s where we are.” Javi leans on the trunk bed again and bumps your shoulder with his. “The camera is on and transmitting, which is good. Bad news is the sicarios are on alert. Search Bloc wants to escort us home while they keep up the hunt.” 

“Do you own a gun?” Murphy’s question breaks your staring. 

“No, not yet. I meant to…” you trail off as he shakes his head. You know it’s stupid of you not to have any protection. This is Colombia, and you’re a single woman on American government paycheck. You finish lamely, holding your elbows: “I meant to get one.” 

“If they saw her they might be looking for her. Have her stay with you for the night.” 

Javi’s eyebrows raise imperceptibly. You want to say ‘no thank you’ and ‘let’s do it’ all at once. He got you into this mess anyway. 

“Sure, that’s fine.” You let out the breath you’re holding, actually relieved. You didn’t want to go home to your lonely, dark apartment after this. Not for a little while. 

Search Bloc escorts the three of you back to the apartment complex, and you’re ushered inside the building one group at a time. 

“Play nice,” Steve mumbles as he steps out of the bronco for his turn into the building. You watch him saunter in under the harsh lamplight. 

The driver calls back some directions, then takes off driving. You turn to Javi in the backseat, distress written across your face. 

“He says we’re going around the block a couple times then they’ll take us in. Relax,” he suggests, and without preamble, slips his hand around your folded ones in your lap. 

It’s a tense ride. Every corner you close your eyes and take a slow controlled breath. And every time Javi’s hand squeezes yours, the other wrapped around the grip of his sidearm. When the Search Bloc boys bring you back to the complex your sneakers scrape against the pavement up the stairs, then against the hardwood until Javi’s door clicks shut behind you. Then, only then, do you give in to your body's demand to breathe deeply. 

You gather your surroundings - it’s a cushy place, raised kitchen leading back to a bedroom and recessed living area. It would be homey if not for the messes on every surface; mostly cigarette packages, cassette tapes, half-empty glasses. The domesticity distracts you from the reality outside, of tire treads rushing through water run-off along the road. Headlights sweep across the edges of the ceiling to illuminate and fracture the room. It’s exactly what you expect for Javier Peña.

“Is your hip all right?” Javi is lighting a cigarette, but watching you intently. You lift your left leg a bit and shake it. Only a lingering ache remains. 

“It’s fine. A bath will help it,” you say. He nods and puffs out the smoke. You don’t know what to do, so you reach behind you and hook your fingers into the waistline of your skirt and look anywhere but him. The swish follows you down to the couch where you sit, and absently fiddle with the fabric. 

“I know that was more than I asked of you, and I appreciate it.” He pushes his stacks of magazines back into tissues and a crystal ashtray so he can sit on the coffee table. “You did well under pressure.” 

“I belong in a lab, Peña,” you say, leaning your chin on your knuckles. “I’m glad I could help, but don’t ask me to do that again. Ever.” 

“Cross my heart.” 

You smile at him. He’s stupidly handsome; he’d caught your eye the day you’d begun working in the embassy halls in the CIA rooms. You did your part, telling him ‘no’, and pulling confidential files out of his hands, and exchanging barbs daily. But that didn’t stop the tender flame of attraction that grew; you knew it wasn’t your place to harbour it, especially when the rumors of how he behaved with informants reached your ears. It didn’t matter, you decided. It didn’t dissuade you, so you let that little flame smolder freely, content to do your work and content to treat him as Agent Peña. Now in his living room, in the fluorescent kitchen lamplight, you wish all that would go away so you could sleep on his couch in peace. 

He didn’t help, calling you ‘honey’ and leaning on your desk to sweetly ask for specific rolls to be developed before others. He didn’t help at all, jamming his foot in the dark room door before you locked it, asking in his softest voice if he could get a look at them before anyone else did. And he helped the least when in his enthusiasm at whatever break he found in the photos, he’d draw you in by your shirt sleeve and press a grateful kiss to your temple before scribbling down whatever connection he had made. You were always grateful for the red lights hiding the heat that rose under your skin. 

“Do you have any spare blankets?” 

He looks around, like it’s the first time anyone’s asked him. “No, I don’t.” 

“Not even a throw?” Exhaustion leaks into your tone. It’s nearly midnight, and you just want to sleep. Javi stands and shrugs his jacket off. He extends his hand and you take it, letting him lead you down the hall to his bedroom. It’s neat, smells faintly of his cologne and smoke and soap. Before you knew it, he was pushing a big t-shirt into your hands and sitting himself on the bed’s edge to undress. You took the opposite edge, gingerly taking your sneakers off and groaning at the relief of being able to wiggle your toes. 

You decide modesty is for people who don’t identify drug cartel hired guns for a grocery money, and slide into Javi’s bedsheets in your underwear and his borrowed t-shirt. The light in the room clicks off, and you listen to Javi rustle around getting comfortable with your eyes closed. His hand lands on your thigh over the blankets. 

“You’re okay,” he says low, and you respond by resting your hand on top of his wrist as you drift into sleep.  

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

How you got here

“It would just be for a couple hours,” Javi had said, standing over your desk with Steve and your supervisor. Murphy did his part playing skeptic, arms crossed, and his striped tie on too tight. Your supervisor mirrored him, glaring at Peña for asking for such a favor. A big favor. Dark room specialists don’t grow on trees, and you had rolls of film to get processing today. 

“Why can’t one of your informants do this?” your supervisor asks. You raise your eyebrows at Javi. 

“Well, an informant you have to pay.” Murphy tilts his head to the side. Uncle Sam’s purse strings had been a little tight this quarter. “And she’s already on payroll.” 

“It’s up to you,” your super says, leaving you under the hopeful stares of Javi and Steve.

“Look,” Javi leans on your desk, getting low enough to make the conversation private, “you don’t have to do anything dangerous. All we need is to use the hotel room to set up a camera looking into an apartment across the street. You would give us a plausible reason to be entering the hotel, and could help us identify the guy if he shows up. So we’re shooting in the right direction.” 

You squint at Javi. He’s playing the biggest puppy-dog eyes you’ve ever seen. Crossing your arms on your desk, you lean forward so you’re even closer to his face, close enough to smell the last cigarette he had was at least an hour ago. “Do you need help setting up the equipment?” 

The twitch in his cheek tells you everything, just as Murphy answers “yes.” 

“Okay, I’ll bite, fellas.” 

“It will be in and out, honey. Shouldn’t be more than two hours.” His eyes are reassuring as you grab your handbag. 

The hotel clerk speaks with Javi as Murphy stands at your side with a hand lying stiffly on your waist, an appropriate distance from anything intimate, and just firm enough to give the impression of a pleasant couple. 

He gets a key, and the three of you reach the room without a hitch. You help Murphy get the little camera up and transmitting. Javi keeps an eye by the window, looking out the translucent curtains. 

“Bad news. Fuck,” Javi murmurs, and it makes your blood go cold. Murphy stops packing up the bag your equipment had come in and kicks it under the room bed. “We gotta get to the car.” Murphy reaches for the phone, dialing. 

“What’s wrong?” you ask anyone. It’s too vague, you can’t tell what the private language of partners is communicating to one another. 

Javi left the window, signaling to Steve to hurry up with his phone call. “Someone ratted on us, we need to get moving.”  

“I thought you said this wouldn’t be dangerous,” you hiss at him. You see him huff in frustration, and immediately feel bad. “Javi…”

He smooths his hand under your elbow. “Honey, I’m sorry.” 

The three of you make a graceless exit out the back service stairs into the Bogotà twilight, street lamps already on painting things in hazy greens to the humming of cicadas. Your sneakers whisper on the pavement, one hand gripping the back of Javi’s jacket; you feel silly doing it, but you don’t want to lose him, even if he’s inches in front of you. Steps away from the car, your heart is beating loud enough you barely heard the agents agree on where to lay low.  

“Trunk?” Murphy whispered. He had one hand hovering on the center of your back, the other on his revolver. 

Javi flicked his head to his partner, nodding. “Trunk.” 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Where you ended up

You woke up because something radiating heat was just downright uncomfortable in the already unbearable Colombian humidity. You wiggled into cooler sheets, only it followed you. 

You realized it was because it was an arm, thrown over your middle. As carefully as you could, you looked over your shoulder to the owner of the arm. 

Light trailed in through the gauzy blue curtains, backlighting Javi’s features and bare chest, laying shadows across his slack face. Uninterrupted by his chatting and clothing, you let yourself take him in; a soft chest inflating rhythmically, and a broad shoulder that collapsed on itself, either from weight, or it’s reach for your own body. You turned back over and nuzzled into the pillow, happy you’d led him lead you to his bed to sleep next to him. You couldn’t imagine being able to sleep soundly without someone there after hiding for your life for hours. A shudder runs through you at the thought, triggering Javi’s breathing to hitch and he draws you closer. 

“Javi,” you murmur in warning. He’s really too warm. He groans back at you, palming your hip but not removing his arm, and you push a little into his hand. “Is there a manual for making quick exits?”

“You gonna run away, baby?” You preen a little under the name, and compensate by pressing your heating cheek into the pillow. 

“No,” you say, letting your eyes fall closed and just enjoying the feel of his thumb brushing over the back of your hip bone through his old shirt. “But I’ve decided to write a how-to manual and you’re going to be the ‘what not to do’ example.”

He shuffles closer to you so you’re leg to leg. “Yeah? For what?” 

You send your top leg out so he can rest his bare thigh between yours. You start in a sing-song voice: “‘What not to do for an effective escape: don’t bring an extra person with you when your means of escape is a car trunk that only fits two bodies, not three.”

“You fit just fine,” he says, and you shiver at his nose bumping your clothed shoulder. 

“I was squished.” 

He snorts. “I got news for you: you lived. Even if you got squished. That’s what I call effective.” You hum when you feel him lift over you and press a kiss to your temple, then your cheek. Turning your head you graze his lips with yours while finding his eyes. They’re still sleepy, not quite open all the way. You don’t even have to lift your head to press your mouth to his warm pliant one, and he returns it gently; it’s different from the excited affectionate ones he plants on your head in the darkroom. You just want to let him know you are alive, and grateful. It’s fleeting, and you know in a week or so it will crack your heart a little more.He breaks it first, pressing a second, then a third into your lips, telling you he understands. 

He lies back behind you, pulling your frame against him, into his warm chest. “Go back to sleep, honey.” 

You pull the sheet around your chin and enjoy the sensation of being held by Javi, if only for a couple more hours. 

Tomorrow you’ll be back at the embassy, explaining your role in a DEA operation turned Colombian military operation to your superior, and you’ll be thinking about how Agent Peña is a much better big spoon than you are. 

[scapegrace74-blog]

Ceremonies

A/N  I’ve been very busy with work, life, etc. and haven’t found much time or energy to write.  Add to that the fact that I left Metric Jamie and Claire in a very happy place, wrapped up in each other under the eaves at Lallybroch.  But I found myself wondering how their return to normalcy might unfold, and this little glimpse is what I came up with.

There’s no song to go along with this fic, because finding accompanying music is time consuming!

All other parts of the Metric Universe are available on my AO3 page.   One of these days I’ll get around to re-ordering them chronologically.

September 1, 2018, Spitalfields, London, England

The door to their flat was tight in its frame, still swollen with damp from the aftermath of the fire.  Jamie rested his duffel bag on the hallway floor and gave it a strong nudge with his shoulder.  The wood acquiesced with a squeak.  Her erstwhile roommate and putative boyfriend ushered her into their home with a polite gesture.

Polite.  Since returning from Scotland the previous Monday, politeness had underscored every one of their interactions.  Jamie had accompanied her from Euston Station back to her temporary lodging at Joe and Gayle’s before wishing her good luck for the beginning of her second year lectures and kissing her farewell.  Politely.  His nightly texts were warm and punctual.  Yesterday’s phone conversation to make plans to pick up their keys, brief and business-like.  It wasn’t that Jamie was typically uncourteous.  Quite the opposite.  But there had been nothing polite about the way their bodies came together under the canopy of the laird’s bed at Lallybroch, and it was the juxtaposition that was unsettling.

Jamie re-appeared from his bedroom to find her standing in the middle of the barren living space, arms hanging loosely at her sides.

“I... uhh... I’ll leave ye tae settle in, Sassenach.  I’ll just jog down tae Tesco an’ grab us some basics.  We can do a big shop t’morrow.  If ye wish, that is,” he added hastily.

She dug through her purse to find Jamie some money to cover her half of the groceries.  When she turned to hand it to him, he had already left.

She wished there was a ceremony for what they were experiencing.  Working in healthcare, she had often been struck by the seemingly universal human need to ritualize times of transition.  Pregnancy to infancy.  Childhood to adulthood.  Single to couple.   Living to dead.  A ceremony delineated the transformation, helping those involved cast aside what was and replace it with what was to be.  Sadly, there was no such tradition for the metamorphosis from roommates to lovers.  They were just going to have to make it up as they went.

Surprisingly, their flat didn’t reek of smoke.  Instead, there was an odour of fresh paint and floor wax, but nothing remained of the whiffs of burnt toast, vetiver and damp running shoes that she first learned to associate with Jamie at home.  With a pleasant jolt, she realized that from now on, the apartment would smell of the life they made together.

Unpacking her small travel kit, Claire decided to take a shower.  Dripping wet and wrapped in only a towel, she retreated to her former bedroom while Jamie banged away in the kitchen, singing along exuberantly (though tunelessly) to Biffy Clyro as he made his lunch.

As the signatory of their former lease, Jamie had been the sole recipient of the tenant’s insurance settlement.  It was a paltry sum that he insisted on sharing equally with her.   Her bed furniture had survived intact, and she’d used up most of the money to pay for a new mattress and linens.  Standing beside them now, she considered whether replacements for her water-logged textbooks might not have been a better investment.  Would she even be sleeping in this room, or would she be sharing Jamie’s king-sized bed every night?  Despite the deliberate nature of their courtship, it was another detail they’d yet to address.

“Do ye want mustard on yer sand....” Jamie’s voice tapered off into breath as he entered the room and took in her state of near-nakedness.  She watched in amusement as the tops of his ears grew red.

“I’m sorry, Sassenach.  I shouldha knocked and no’ barged in.”

“It’s alright.  My door wasn’t closed.”

Approaching slowly, he traced the path of a bead of moisture as it escaped her unbound hair.  Her skin shivered to life beneath his touch.

“It feels strange tae be allowed tae see ye like this.  Tae touch ye like this.”

Her mind was bounding ahead of the scene.  Were they going to have sex?   Did she want to have sex?  She’d just emerged from the shower.  But then, sex with Jamie was worth a secondary wash.  Living together as they did, if they had sex every time one of them felt the urge, she’d have a UTI in no time.  During their brief introduction at Lallybroch, Jamie’s libido had proven to be near indefatigable.

“Good strange or bad strange?” she asked the far wall as her thoughts raced, hesitant to meet his gaze.

“The verra best strange ye can imagine,” he whispered in reply before stepping away deliberately.

“Once ye’re dressed, there’s a sandwich wi’ yer name on it in the kitchen.”

Dressing hastily, Claire joined him at the tiny circular dining table, stealing shy glances between bites.

“Thank you for lunch,” she smiled after her last mouthful.  

Unlike her own limited talents, years of bachelorhood had turned Jamie into a decent cook.  Twice a month he laboured over a giant pot of beef stew, adjusting the blend of vegetables and spices with near-scientific focus, before lugging it along with copious quantities of dinner rolls to the fire station, where it was devoured by dozens of appreciative co-workers.

“Och, twas nothin’,” he insisted.

“You’ve got a little smear... no, the other side... just there...”  

Leaning across the table, she wiped a splotch of mayonnaise from his coppery stubble.  Eyes flaring, he grabbed her wrist before she could lean away and deliberately pulled her thumb into his mouth, sucking it clean before releasing his hold.  The air between them pulsed with possibilities.

Once again, it was Jamie who broke the impasse, looking around the sun-filled space.

“This room is sae empty it echoes,” he remarked.

Claire glanced over her shoulder and had to agree.  Besides the two chairs and table they were currently occupying, the only other furniture that survived the fire and subsequent dousing of water and flame retardant was Jamie’s metal shelving unit, her ergonomic desk chair and the wall bracket that once held a wide-screen TV.  It would take them a long time to rebuild.

“We can stream Netflix tae our computers for now, but I reckon we need a sofa, so we’re no’ forced tae sit on the floor when we do so.”

“We could always watch in your bed,” she suggested before thinking it through.

Once again, Jamie’s aqua eyes burned.  She could feel herself flushing, but managed to not look away.

“Aye.  We could.  Tho’ I doubt we’d see sae much as the opening credits.  Dinna tempt me, Sassenach.”

He was almost pleading, and his intent suddenly became clear.  Whether by instinct or design, Jamie was trying to define a new normality for their lives together.  Grocery and furniture shopping were a shared endeavour, but there was still space for privacy and quiet.  Two sandwiches instead of one, but they both could decide whether to eat them together.  

Their ceremonies would be modest, and gain significance by their sheer number.  A dozen funerals for their solitude, and a thousand baptisms of love.

She reached across the table and clasped his hand.

“I saw the perfect sofa in a shop window the other day.  I’ll rinse these dishes, and then let’s walk over and see it.”

[diaryofabeautyfiend]

Small Time Witch (3)

STEVE

Steve sat in his office pouring over intelligence reports. This was a pretty big deal. You were talking about a bio weapons lab. An evil bio weapons lab. He was convinced the place was booby trapped. He wanted everyone to wear gas masks but Tony assured him that you were going to secure the place. He rubbed his face trying to wake up his tired eyes. Maybe he’d turn in soon. That’s when he heard the helicopter.

He was on his feet running down the hall. Tony and Nat were behind him. They got to the front door and caught Bucky casually strolling in.

“Buck! Are you ok? What is that?”

He shrugged Steve off looking slightly annoyed. “That’s y/n’s ride. They are heading back to her house for ‘witch stuff’ whatever that means.”

“Her ride? They who?” Tony prodded

“Yeah. Y/N, Wanda and Loki jumped on to go back to her house.”

Steve and Tony exchanged a look. Nat was already dialing Fury. After a few moments Nat came back in, “Yep. Turns out the Director sent the chopper.”

“Well ok then. I guess that’s a thing that happens.”

Steve excused himself to call Wanda. He got her voicemail. “Wanda it’s Steve. Call me back when you get this. Just checking to see if you’re ok.”

Everyone settled down and went back to their rooms. Steve was too frazzled to sleep. He went to the kitchen to have a glass of water. Bucky was punishing a pint of ice cream.

“Want some?” he asked with a full mouth.

“You know what? I would like some.”

“Pull up a spoon.”

Steve carved out a spoon full making sure to get the chocolate ribbon. He put it in his mouth letting the warmth melt it a little before he dragged his lips over the mound of cream guiding it over his tongue. There were few absolute pleasures Steve had in life. Ice cream was one of them.

Bucky continued to shovel the ice cream into his mouth. Steve wasn’t sure if he even tasted it. They didn’t speak for a few minutes and then Steve said, “What do you think about the new girl?”

“She’s weird.”

“You haven’t spoken more than two sentences to her.”

“Yeah. I’m a great judge of character. She’s weird.”

Steve shook his head, “Weird how though?”

“I don’t know. She’s just always watching people and looking uncomfortable. It’s weird.”

“She is an empath. She feels what we feel. Maybe you’re the one who’s weird and she is just mirroring that.”

Bucky snorts, “Probably. That makes way more sense. Are you gonna keep tongue fucking the ice cream or can I put it away?”

“I’m done. See you tomorrow, Buck.”

He headed back to his room thinking about you as he walked. He’d only admit to himself but people with supernatural powers scared him. Before turning in he looked up everything he could find about empaths.

YOU

Back at your apartment the three of you gathered as many things as you could that belonged to your coven. You also grabbed your Book of Shadows which outlined your coven’s rituals and spells passed down from generation to generation. Wanda studied the book looking for any mention of your power.

The first item you had was an athame that belonged to your aunt Flora.

Loki guided you through the ritual being careful to respect your family’s traditions. “What was your Aunt Flora’s gift?”

“Aeromancy. She could conjure winds.”

“Ok. Y/N I want you to hold the athame in your right hand and close your eyes. Find your center and tell me what you feel.”

“I feel like a pull in my belly.”

“Good. Imagine that feeling traveling through your body to the tips of your fingers. Imagine the wind flowing out of your palms.” It took some concentration but when you did as he said. You held up your left hand and summoned enough wind to blow papers all around and knock a few pictures off the walls.

“You did it!” Wanda shouted. Your concentration broke and the wind died.

“That’s all good and well but I can’t exactly carry all of their things with me all the time.”

“No. You’re right. But I think you’ve had enough for today. You look so tired, honey.” Wanda smoothed your hair out of your face and rested her hand on your cheek.

“Want us to stay?”

“No. I have to get up early to meet Steve and Sam.”

“I hate the thought of you being by yourself all the time. I wish you’d reconsider but I understand if you won’t. I’m going to call Tony to see if he can pick us up.” She patted your shoulder and excused herself.

Loki helped you pick up your things. He didn’t say a whole lot but you knew he had something on his mind.

“What’s up, Lok? You ok?”

“I could stay. I’ll sleep on the couch. Won’t be in your way.”

“You really don’t need to.”

“Pet, you are in danger. And, whether or not you like to admit it, I can protect you.”

You rolled your eyes, “I don’t need protection.”

“The hell you don’t. I may only be a demigod but I’m the most powerful being here. Plus I hate sleeping at the compound.” You giggled to yourself. It had to be super uncomfortable bunking in with your big brother.

“Fine. Stay. I have a guest bedroom. You’re welcome to it.”

“Nat is on her way. Want to try one more before we go?”

“Wanda Loki is going to stay. I mean if that’s ok.”

She frowned briefly, “Not up to me. I’m glad you won’t be alone though.”

“Good. I do want to try one more. This is my mother’s locket.” You opened it revealing a tiny picture of you and her. Anytime you take it out you feel her. Tonight it was as if she was standing next to you.

“What was her gift?”

“Telekinesis.”

“Ok. Just like we practiced. Found your center?”

You closed your eyes and this time the pull was much stronger. You opened your hand and summoned Loki’s dagger out of his waistband. When it hit your palm you closed your hand and held it close to your body. It was so fast he didn’t even see it happening. The three of you inhaled when you caught a faint whiff of perfume. Suddenly the whole room smelled like vetiver. It was sharp citrusy and mildly herbal. Smelled like your mom.

“She’s here.” Your voice was barely above a whisper. “Mom? Mommy?” Tears ran down your face. Your body felt warm and you tingled all over. She was with you. They all were. Something was telling you to try without the locket. You set it down and tried again. It worked. You tried the wind. It worked. You felt charged like you were plugged into a big battery.

You hovered your hand over the sad thirsty ficus in the corner. It sprang to life. Lana your youngest sister witch was with you. You closed your eyes and willed yourself to split. You were staring into your own face. An astral projection. The eldest member of your coven Helene was with you. You opened your hand and in it appeared a glass of water. Constance was with you. Then you froze it. Bethany was with you.

Loki grabbed your shoulders to get your attention. “Y/N STOP! You’re going to destroy your home.” Finally when you were able to focus Natasha was standing in the doorway with her mouth hanging open. Wanda and Loki looked on like proud parents.

“Still think I need protection?” you asked still breathing hard.

“Not from a damn thing.” Nat said still shocked.

“You, my friend, need nothing but sleep. That had to have taken a lot out of you. Ok. Hydrate. Rest. Steve will be here for you at 4.”

“Yeah and Y/N on time is late so really expect him at 3:45. I’ll see you after breakfast. I guess I had better wear a helmet.” You waved goodbye and plopped down onto the couch. Loki sat next to you.

“You’re a quick study.”

“Are you impressed?”

“Beyond impressed. And I’m beyond exhausted. You wore me out today, mortal.”

“What? You didn’t enjoy my little emotional roller coaster?” He laughed. And patted your knee.

“It was quite the ride. Go. Off to bed with you. You look like you’re ready to pass out any moment and I don’t want to be the one who has to catch you.”

“Yes, sir. Good night.”

“Pleasant dreams.”

Loki stayed up a bit longer and read the Book of Shadows from cover to cover. If he was to be your teacher he just formulated his first lesson plan. He said out loud knowing you could hear him, “Sleep well, mortal. Tomorrow it’s my turn to run the show.” He turned out the light and drifted off into an uneasy sleep.

[andrastes]

if i had to do ur ungodly will u should also have to do 1-69 for polly and aggy

ok here it is for polly. 

1.  why did they choose their class(es)? their subclass(es)?

Well polly sought out Vaermina because she hoped that she would be able to make her nightmares stop. 

2.before they met their party, what was their main goal? make enough money to survive, sleep through the night. 

3. what is their goal right now? save the world lol. she doesn’t actually care about that part as much, she’s mostly in on it because her friends seem to really care. she’s trying to have fun while she’s awake though, which she didn’t really think about much until she met her friends. 

4. if they could learn one spell that isn’t available to them at present, which spell would it be? create or destroy water. she just thinks it would be really useful for the group’s travelling. dredge can get stinky.  

5. do they follow a higher power? what are their thoughts on divinity? lol she’s forced to follow Vaermina. she thinks the gods suck, not because they aren’t real or powerful but because she felt neglected by them when she needed them. 

6. which party member do they relate to the most? sundrop 

7. which party member do they understand the least? liz

8. what are three songs that suit them? still finding songs for her bit… tighten up by the front bottoms, be still by the killers, and wisdom by mother mother. 

9. do they care about their appearance? how much effort do they put into presentation? She does care about how she looks but doesn’t have the energy to really put that much effort into it. That’s why her entire wardrobe is black and dark colors because you don’t have to worry about matching shit. she brushes her hair and braids it when she isn’t sleeping to keep busy, but that’s it.

10. how often do they lie? what situations cause them to be dishonest? she lies mostly when she thinks it’ll be funny or it’ll suit her. she has no real qualms about lying to any random person, but she would think twice on lying to her friends. 

11. what skills are they proficient in? Why? she’s very good at staying awake because she’s too afraid to fall asleep. 

12. have they ever been in love? no

13. what do they dislike about themself? Why? she doesn’t like how cynical she is

14. what is something they love about themself? she knows that she’s always going to get back up.

15. do they trust their party? why or why not? 100% trust. she’s been with them for so long she knows that if they wanted her dead or were going to betray her they would’ve done it. 

16. what are their feelings on the people who raised them? she loves her parents a lot, she just wishes she were the daughter they wanted. 

17. what do they dream about, when their dreams are their own? She’s had very few dreams that are her own in her lifetime. the first one was her sitting in a meadow outside her home in skingrad and feeling the sun on her skin. the second was sitting with her friends outside a cave making fun of dredge by the campfire. 

18. do they see themself as a leader or a follower? leader.

19. what haunts them? what doesn’t? she’s haunted by the life she could have had if she ever got a good night’s sleep. she isn’t haunted by what she has done to make her life more bearable. 

20. which of the five senses do they rely the most on? sight

21. do they follow their head, their heart, or their body? their heart-- she does what she wants to.

22. what is a promise they’ve broken? “i promise i’m not going to do anything rash.”

23. how do they feel about nicknames, titles, or labels that have been given to them? how do they feel about their name? her name is pretentious and very imperial and so she feels like she sticks out in skyrim, but she likes being called polly. 

24. which of the four elements speaks to them the most? Fire. it's a light in the dark and warmth in the cold. an act of creation and destruction, which i think is sort of at war in her mind-- she feels like she is destroying her life while also trying to create something from the ashes. 

25. what stories do they like to tell? what stories do they like to hear? she likes to tell funny stories and likes to hear stories with happy endings. 

26. who do they miss? polly misses her parents, her sister, her niece and nephew. 

27. how do they mourn? angrily, loudly. she is not the best at dealing with emotions.  

28. who would they kill? who would they kill for? she’d kill quite a few people for money, but would kill anyone dredge, liz, sundrop, or her other family needed her to without question. 

29. who would they save? who would they be saved by? she would save her friends and family, she can’t speak for anyone else but she’s done waiting for some deus ex machina. 

30. what do they seek out from others? anything interesting. sometimes just their annoyance will do. 

31. they’re given a blank piece of paper–what do they do with it? she takes the paper, folds it like a paper plane (fantasy plane?), and throws it at someone.  

32. do they seek control, or do they want less of it? she seeks control desperately. 

33. what makes them cry? any emotion in a high enough dose. thinking about loneliness. 

34. which party member do they go to in a crisis? oh god. depends on the crisis. probably mostly sundrop. 

35. which party member do they worry for? dredge, he’s really getting old. 

36. what’s a secret they’ve kept? it’s a secret!!! 

37. what is their favorite thing to hold? a bottle or a glass.  

38. what do they smell like? i think she would smell earthy and deep from all the outside travelling and dark magic. maybe vetiver and something floral, like gardenia. 

39. are their hands calloused, soft, or something else entirely? she has callouses on her fingers from constant tool working. Her palms are soft. 

40. do they enjoy poetry? No, doesn’t much care for it. 

41. what are they attracted to in other people? optimism, perseverance, kindness. 

42. what are three words they would use to describe themself? funny, charismatic, annoying. 

43. why do they fight? she needs to make a living somehow

44. what do they need to learn? To give people a chance first, 

45. how do they hug people? she’s one of those: taps you immediately to let you know we’re done, side-hug, types. 

46. what do they deprive themself of? home, sleep.

47. when they meet someone, what is the first thing they notice? she tries to make an immediate character impression so she’ll go oh they seem boring, or childish, or invested. 

48. what do they see in their future? Dredge, Liz, Sundrop

49. what makes them smile? antics. pranks, doing silly things for no reason and succeeding. 

50. can they sing? can they dance? she hasn’t done much of either. 

51. what is the most beautiful thing in the world, for them? human (and not human lol) connection. she really loves flowers, they remind her of being back in skingrad. 

52. from whom do they seek validation? her parents (and the gods but that one set sail)

53. which is more frightening to them: day or night? night. she has to fall asleep eventually. 

54. what was their education like? she’s gotten a good basic education and a merchant’s education. 

55. whose hand do they reach out for? sundrop’s

56. what animal do they most relate to? giant rat, just chilling going absolutely wild until someone shows up and just starts wacking. 

57. what makes them angry? people giving up. 

58. what do they think their role in the party is? what is their role in actuality? she thinks she’s there to deal with people in a business sense. her real role is to just be real good at noticing. 

59. what is a quiet passion of theirs? she loves daydreaming and little figurines. 

60. do they whisper or yell more often? yell. 

61. what kind of flower would they choose to pick from a meadow? violets 

62. outside of otherworldly forces, what do they believe in? herself. that people are always going to do what’s best for themselves. 

63. what fight has scared them the most? fighting a dragon

64. do they value mercy or justice more? justice.

65. what is holding them back? currently, saving the world. 

66. who makes them feel warm? her family.

67. what makes them laugh? liz eating anything

68. what was the best moment of their life? the first night she had a real dream. 

69. how would they describe their party members? as her best friends. Liz is perhaps too sweet for this wofrld and she has no idea why she sticks around but is very grateful she does. Dredge is a grumpy old man with the funniest quips. Sundrop is confused but he’s got the spirit, but even still is loyal, which not many can say. 

[thewarriorandtheking]

Lothlorien

The Warrior Queen: The Warrior and The King: Book II

Chapter 6. Lothlorien

********************************************

Kaylea Wolf floated in a warm dream. It was very pleasant, peaceful and quiet, like floating in a tropical sea. When she started to focus she saw hooded figures, long swords in the dark, foul creatures running towards her. It was much more pleasant to just lay in the warm water and float. But she kept hearing a voice. It was deep and resonant and familiar, sometimes it seemed quite close but then faded away. There was something about it that drew her to it, she loved to hear it but could not remember why. She drifted in her dream, but there was that voice again. She realized she was in love with that voice and when it drifted away again she began to seek it out. It felt like it took ages to push past the robed figures with their long knives, past orcs and tall white trees. It was like trying to reach the surface from deep underwater, but she kept pulling herself upward. Then the name of that voice came to her: Thorin. The realization hit her like a kick to the head. The man she loved, with his soft smile and quick temper, beautiful hair and amazing blue eyes, and that voice. She had to get back to him, it was much more important than any cozy dream.

Kaylea came to herself slowly. She could feel a soft bed beneath her, hear the wind in the leaves of the mallorn trees, the scent of athelas from the dressing of her wound, she knew she was in Lorien. The next thing she became aware of was Thorin. He was lying next to her on the bed, head on the pillow next to hers. He was holding her hand, his fingers interlaced with hers and he was talking. Kaylea did not listen to what he was saying at first, just the sound of his voice, taking in his frankincense and vetiver smell, the feel of his hand on hers. Was it really possible to love someone as much as she loved this man? His words slowly started to come into focus, he was telling her about the battle of Azanulbizar. A story she had heard many times. Kaylea let him talk for some time, enjoying the sound of his voice, the warm feel of his body next to her. Finally she gave his hand a squeeze.

“Will you just shut up and kiss me,” she said. Her voice came out as a husky whisper and she wondered how long she had been down.

Thorin gasped. “My love!” He kissed her hand, holding it between his. “You have come back!”

“I told you I had no plans to leave you,” Kaylea attempted a smile, turning her head toward him. “How long have I been asleep?”

“It has been more than two days since the Lady Galadriel removed that blade tip from your wound, you slept five days before that.”

Odin’s beard! Kaylea thought to herself. Seven days? She looked at Thorin, she could see the fatigue around his eyes, and the relief in his wide smile. She wanted to kiss him so badly. “Are you going to kiss me, or not?”

Thorin smiled wider and leaned forward to kiss her. He tasted so good, earthy and warm, the reason she had fought her way out of that dream. He pulled back to smile at her again, still holding her hand. “I thought I was going to lose you,” he said.

“I heard your voice,” Kaylea replied.

“Lady Galadriel said your mind had travelled far. I thought it would help if I talked to you,” Thorin said shyly, he seemed a bit embarrassed.

“You were right. I followed it back to you, my king,” Kaylea said. She willed her hand to move up to touch his face, her thumb running over his beard. Thorin put an arm around her, drawing her close to kiss her again. Longer this time, and more passionate. At length he drew back, knowing she must still be very tired.

“You must rest,” he said. “You still have much healing to do.”

Kaylea rolled her eyes at him. “I have already been out for seven days.” She was fully in her body now, she could feel the tightness along her neck where the wound was still healing, her muscles stiff and sore. She started to push herself up, but Thorin stopped her.

“If you do not lay down and rest, I will tie you to this bed,” Thorin said seriously.

Kaylea looked up at him with a sly smile. “Is that a promise? In that case I am certainly getting up.”

Thorin laughed, he pushed himself up to kneel over her and leaned forward until his forehead met hers, he caught her arms and held them down beside her, then kept leaning in until he pushed her head back into the pillow. “You stay in bed, your king commands it.” While Thorin was still very worried about her, his heart soared to hear her bantering with him so soon after waking up. It was like she was back to her old self, and he was already more aroused than he really wanted to be.

Kaylea met his gaze. “Is there anything else you command of me, your majesty?” She asked playfully. “Alright, I will be good and stay in bed. Is there anything to eat around here, I am starving.”

Thorin straightened up. “You stay there, I will go find you something.” He kept his eyes on her until he shut the door behind him.

As soon as Thorin had gone Kaylea got up, and almost fell. She managed to catch herself on a chair and willed herself upright, her legs barely responded to her. She did not know how long Thorin would be gone but she had seen her saddlebag on the floor and quickly retrieved it. Opening the concealed pocket she removed the slim flat case of her medkit. She selected three syringes: white cell activator, gene-targeted cell repair and boosterspice. She held all three to her arm and pushed the activators, they dispensed with a soft hiss. Kaylea grabbed her handheld before closing up her bag and returning to the bed before Thorin came back. Just that small effort had every muscle in her body screaming, but she should be fully healed in less than eight hours. Kaylea took a quick look at her at her device, days of reports to read, no urgent messages. Nothing from Aramsham yet, which meant she could extend her stay in Middle Earth. She was sitting up in bed when Thorin returned with a plate of fruits and cheese. Kaylea took the plate from him and placed it on her lap, then patted the bed next to her.

“Now, come sit next to me and tell me how you managed to talk your way into Lorien.”

Thorin smiled back at her, he stretched out on the bed to tell the story, holding her hand and telling himself he was going to make sure he never came that close to losing her again.

 Late that evening, some hours after Thorin had left her, one of the Elves that had been attending her pronounced Kaylea fully healed. The Elves had set up a pavillion for their guests, some distance from the foot of the great tree where Celeborn and Galadriel lived. Furnished almost like a house, with soft couches, table and chairs and a large bed. It was set across a wide green lawn where a fountain bubbled, flowing into a bright stream. The Elf led Kaylea there, though it was quite late she could see a light still burning in the pavillion. She did not mind the platforms in the trees but she knew Dwarves hated being parted from the earth and having to sleep in a tree would drive Thorin crazy. As Kaylea came through the door she saw Thorin seated at the table with a quill, writing a letter. He gave her a shocked look as she came in.

“What are you doing out of bed?” He asked, putting aside his quill to come and take her hands in his.

Kaylea shrugged. “I am healed, my king.” She looked at the parchment on the table. “You are up late. What are you writing?”

“A letter to Fili, to let him know we are alright, and where we are,” Thorin replied. “The Elves said they will take it to Asgaroth. This is the first chance I have had to write it.”

Thorin moved the neck of Kaylea’s tunic aside to expose the small scar that was all that was left of her wound. He shook his head. “I thought you said you had no medicines to treat that.”

Kaylea chuckled. “There are no medicines that will remove a piece of a Morgul blade. The wound itself is easily healed once that is gone.”

Thorin frowned at the memory. “That was a sight to see,” he said.

Kaylea’s eyebrows shot up. “You were present for that? The Lady Galadriel should have warned you to leave.”

“She did. They would have had to put me in irons to make me leave your side,” Thorin tightened his arms around her, kissing her neck.

Kaylea smiled back at him, enjoying the feel of his beard against her skin. “I have seen it done once and it is not a pleasant thing. I would have spared you that.”

Kaylea felt completely recovered now, the boosterspice had done its work. She told Thorin in the morning she wanted to go for a ride to find Hector.  

“The borders of Lorien is a full day’s ride,” Thorin said. “Are you sure you feel well enough, my love? And if we are to ride that far, why not just ride back to Erebor?”

“I cannot leave until I speak with Lord Celeborn and the Lady Galadriel, to thank them for their aid, and they will want to know what we found in Mordor.”

“Can you request an audience?” Thorin asked. While Lorien was a pleasant place he would rather be back at home.

Kaylea shook her head. “I must wait to be summoned, and nothing happens fast with the Fair Folk. We may be here some weeks.” Kaylea looked over at him with a knowing smile. “However, the Elves of Lorien are not overfond of horses. If we ride in and out a few times it may hasten a call from the Lord and Lady.”

Thorin reached up to finger one of the beads on her braids. “I suppose there are worse places to be stuck waiting,” he said. “Are you fully healed?.”

Kaylea smiled at him. She traced the open neck of his shirt with her finger. “I hope that offer to tie me to the bed is still open.”

“Definitely,” Thorin replied, smiling crookedly at her. “But perhaps not tonight, my love.”

For answer Kaylea pulled him closer and kissed him, she put her hands inside his vest, running them over his body.

 It was late morning before Kaylea and Thorin walked out the gates of Caras Galadhon to retrieve their horses. There was a wide meadow surrounding the hill on which the city was built where their horses had been let to graze. Kaylea whistled for Hadrian and he came trotting up from around the other side of the hill with Thorin’s little mare. Both were thin from their hard journey but well-rested and happy from grazing the rich grasses of Lothlorien. Soon they were on their way, following the well-worn path. One of the Elves at the city gate had offered to guide them, but Kaylea told him she knew the way well. It was a beautiful early summer day, warm breeze blowing through the tall trees, the smell of pollen and warm grass in the air. The last time travelling this path Thorin had seen nothing of it, he found himself quite enjoying the ride today, impressed by the size and beauty of the great mallorn trees.

The sun was low on the horizon when they reached the edge of the forest. They had not travelled far beside the Celebrant when Hector came loping up. Kaylea dismounted her horse to give the wolf a big hug as he happily licked her face. She hugged him for a long time, burying her face in his long fur. After some time Kaylea drew back and they looked at each other, Thorin could see the love in the wolf’s eyes. He had thought at first it was a bit silly to ride all this distance to see him, but he understood now. He had grown to rather like the animal in their time alone together. Hector gave Thorin a meaningful look before trotting away into the dusk. Kaylea watched him for a long moment before turning to Thorin.

“Do you have anything you want to tell me?”

Thorin shook his head, he could not believe Hector had told her when it had been the wolf’s idea. “I am sure I have no idea what you are talking about,” he replied, trying to remember if Hector had been there when he had disassembled the weapon to better understand how it worked. He had done that twice.

“I knew I was taking a risk bringing it,” Kaylea said, almost to herself. She looked over at Thorin. “Elrohir warned me to keep it away from Dwarves.”

“He would,” Thorin said, the disgust evident in his voice. “Elves want to keep everything for themselves. I understand a little of how it works, that does not mean I can build one.” Thorin looked up to meet her gaze. “I understand now why you are reluctant to speak of your homeland, why you always put me off when I speak of visiting. A people who can make a weapon like that must live in a land of many greater marvels.”

Kaylea started to speak, but Thorin held up a hand. “Let me finish. I almost lost you a few days ago. When I carried you up those stairs not knowing if the Lady Galadriel could help you, it almost destroyed me. I cannot lose you again. I care not where you really come from, if it is fear that the marvels of your land will somehow scare me, cast such thoughts aside. I want you at my side always, of course I would prefer that you come live with me in Erebor, but there must be some way we can be together. If I must spend part of my time in your land, so be it.”

Kaylea sighed. “This exact thing has also been in my mind. I know I do not speak of it as eloquently as you, but believe me when I say I need you in my life as badly as you want me in yours. Leaving you the last time was one of the hardest things I have ever done. But it is not entirely up to me.”

Thorin looked at her, his eyes narrowing. “This lord you serve.” Kaylea nodded. “He has allowed Elrohir to journey to your land, but not a Dwarf?”

“I have not yet found an argument to convince him,” Kaylea replied. She stepped closer to him, putting her hands on his shoulders. “Now, I need to speak to the King. You have seen for yourself what is coming. Will you abandon all that you have worked for, your subjects, your children to that evil? Sauron is not ready yet, but when this war begins all Middle Earth will be needed to fight him. I have seen you among your people, any one of them would fight to their last breath for you, would they fight the same for your nephew?”

Thorin sighed. “The responsibilities of kings.”

“The responsibilities of kings,” Kaylea nodded. “When this war is over and Sauron is defeated, my lord will owe me many favors. Then I may be able to build a future with you, though what form it may take I cannot say.”

“It is cold comfort to be told I can be with you, but only many years from now.”

Kaylea smiled at him. “It may be fifty years, it may be less. But it is fifty years to make your kingdom stronger, to watch your people grow more prosperous and more numerous, to see your son grow old enough to rule in your stead, to settle things with your wife.” Kaylea sighed. “It cannot have escaped your notice that the medicines I used to heal you have made you a young man again.”

“And taller,” Thorin added.

“Neither of which are supposed to happen, but I had never used it on a Dwarf before. I believe you could live for 300 more years, maybe even longer. Though it may be some years before we can be together, we will still have a lifetime ahead of us. And I will be back several times before this war happens, when the final battle approaches, I will return with troops to help defeat the Enemy.”

Thorin drew her to him. “So, I have fifty years to convince you to marry me.”

Kaylea chuckled. “I am not the marrying kind, as I have told you.”

“You just said we have a future together. That is as close as I have yet heard you come to a yes.” Thorin reached up and pulled her mouth down to his.

Read the complete adventures of The Warrior and The King on AO3 & FanFiction, author is akdogdriver. All three books also now on Wattpad.