#floating tea light candles

[ksma2025]

A Perfect Blend of Ambiance and Versatility: The Ultimate Guide to Tea Light Candles

Introduction

Tea light candles are more than just tiny sources of light; they are a symbol of warmth, comfort, and elegance. Whether you’re planning a wedding, decorating your home, or creating a cozy atmosphere, tea-light candles are the perfect choice. These small, circular candles, often housed in thin metal or plastic cups, are designed to liquefy completely while burning, making them safe and efficient. At Ksma, we believe in the power of these little wonders to transform any space into a magical haven. In this blog, we’ll explore everything you need to know about tea light candles, from their origins to their modern-day uses, and why they are a must-have for every occasion.

1. The History and Origin of Tea Light Candles

The story of tea light candles dates back to the 12th century in Japan. Initially, they were used during the Japanese tea ceremony, a Zen ritual that could last up to four hours. These handy little candles not only marked the passage of time but also kept the tea warm. Over the centuries, tea light candles evolved and became popular worldwide for their versatility and charm. Today, they are used in countless ways, from creating romantic settings to adding a touch of elegance to weddings and festivals.

2. Why Tea Light Candles Are So Popular

Tea light candles are loved for their simplicity and versatility. Here are some reasons why they are a favorite among candle enthusiasts:

Affordability: Tea light candles are inexpensive, making them accessible to everyone.

Compact Size: Their small size makes them easy to use in various settings, from table centerpieces to outdoor decorations.

Safety: The metal or plastic cups ensure that the wax doesn’t spill, making them safe to use.

Long Burning Time: Many tea light candles, especially long-burning tea lights, can last for hours, providing consistent light and ambiance.

3. Types of Tea Light Candles

Tea light candles come in a variety of types to suit different needs and preferences. Here are some popular options:

Scented Tea Light Candles: Infused with fragrances like lavender, vanilla, or citrus, these candles add a delightful aroma to any space.

LED Tea Light Candles: Perfect for safety and convenience, these flameless tea light candles are ideal for homes with children or pets.

Colored Tea Light Candles: Available in a range of colors, these candles are great for themed events like weddings, Diwali, or Halloween.

Floating Tea Light Candles: Designed to float in water, these candles create a stunning visual effect in bowls or pools.

Eco-Friendly Tea Light Candles: Made from sustainable materials, these candles are perfect for environmentally conscious buyers.

4. Tea Light Candle Dimensions and Size

Understanding the tea light candle dimensions is essential for choosing the right candle for your needs. Typically, a standard tea light candle measures about 1.5 inches in diameter and 0.5 inches in height. However, larger or smaller options are also available depending on the brand and purpose.

5. Creative Uses of Tea Light Candles

Tea light candles are incredibly versatile and can be used in countless ways. Here are some creative ideas:

Weddings: Tea light candles for weddings are a popular choice for creating a romantic and intimate atmosphere. They can be used as table centerpieces, aisle decorations, or even in lanterns.

Festivals: From Diwali to Christmas, tea light candles add a festive touch to any celebration. Christmas tea light candles, for example, can be used to decorate trees or mantels.

Outdoor Events: Outdoor tea light candles are perfect for garden parties or evening gatherings. Their soft glow creates a warm and inviting ambiance.

Home Decor: Use scented tea light candles to create a relaxing environment in your living room or bathroom.

6. How to Make Tea Light Candles

If you’re feeling crafty, making your own tea light candles can be a fun and rewarding project. All you need is wax, wicks, and metal cups. Melt the wax, pour it into the cups, and insert the wicks. You can even add essential oils for fragrance or dye for color. Homemade tea light candles make great gifts or party favors.

7. Where to Buy Tea Light Candles Near Me

Finding high-quality tea light candles is easy if you know where to look. Many local stores and online platforms offer a wide range of options. At Ksma.in, we provide premium tea light candles that are perfect for any occasion. Whether you need white tea light candles for a classic look or flameless tea light candles with remote control for convenience, we’ve got you covered.

8. Tips for Using Tea Light Candles Safely

While tea light candles are generally safe, it’s important to follow some basic safety tips:

Always place candles on a heat-resistant surface.

Keep them away from flammable materials like curtains or paper.

Never leave burning candles unattended.

Consider using LED tea light candles for added safety, especially around children or pets.

Conclusion

Tea light candles are a timeless and versatile addition to any home or event. From their humble beginnings in Japanese tea ceremonies to their modern-day uses in weddings, festivals, and home decor, these little candles have stood the test of time. Whether you prefer scented tea light candles for their aroma, flameless tea light candles for their safety, or colored tea light candles for their vibrant hues, there’s a perfect option for everyone.

At Ksma, we are committed to providing you with the best tea light candles that combine quality, affordability, and elegance. Explore our collection today and discover how these tiny candles can make a big difference in your life. Let the warm glow of tea light candles from Ksma.in light up your world!

[rawlightau]

A Guide to Choosing the Perfect Spiral Candles for Any Occasion

When creating a warm and inviting atmosphere for any occasion, few things can rival the enchanting glow of candlelight. Among the myriad options available, spiral candles are unique and elegant. Their captivating, twisted designs add a touch of sophistication to any setting, making them the perfect choice for various events. In this guide, we'll take you through selecting the ideal spiral candles for any occasion.

Understanding Spiral Candles

With their gracefully coiled forms, Spiral candles are a captivating twist on the traditional candle. Before delving into how to choose the perfect one, let's briefly explore their history and unique characteristics.

History and Origin

The history of spiral candles can be traced back to ancient civilizations, where they were often used in religious ceremonies and rituals. Over time, they have evolved into decorative pieces suitable for various occasions.

Unique Characteristics

Spiral candles come in various shapes, sizes, and designs, but they all share some key characteristics:

Elegance: The intricate spiral patterns create a visually appealing and decorative effect.

Versatility: They can be used for everything from romantic dinners to birthday parties and weddings.

Ambience: Spiral candles produce a warm, inviting glow that instantly elevates the mood of any space.

Types of Spiral Candles

Before you can choose the perfect spiral candle, it's essential to understand the different types available:

Spiral Candles

Spiral candles are infused with delightful fragrances that can enhance the ambience of your event. Consider options like lavender for relaxation or vanilla for a comforting, homey feel.

Colorful Spiral Candles

The color of your spiral candles can set the tone for your occasion. Reds and pinks for romance, blues and greens for tranquility, and vibrant colors for celebrations - the choices are endless.

Decorative Spiral Candles

For special events, consider decorative spiral candles with unique shapes or patterns. They can become eye-catching centrepieces and conversation starters.

Considerations for Choosing Spiral Candles

Selecting the perfect spiral candle involves several considerations, including:

Candle Size: Match the size to the space and the occasion.

Burn Time: Longer burn times are ideal for extended events.

Safety Features: Look for candles with dripless designs and secure bases.

Material: Choose between beeswax, soy, or paraffin candles, each with its qualities.

Spiral Candles for Specific Occasions

Now, let's explore spiral candles are best suited for various occasions:

Romantic Dinners

Create an intimate atmosphere with slender, scented spiral candles. Opt for deep reds or soft pinks to enhance the romantic mood.

Relaxing Spa Nights

For a spa night at home, choose calming scents like lavender or eucalyptus. Subtle, pastel-coloured spiral candles can add to the serenity.

Birthday Parties

Vibrant and colourful spiral candles are perfect for birthday celebrations. Match the colours to the theme of the party for added flair.

Weddings

Spiral candles can be a stunning addition to wedding decor. White or ivory candles with elegant designs can enhance the beauty of your special day.

Where to Buy Spiral Candles

Consider shopping at specialty stores or online retailers known for their candle collections to ensure you get high-quality spiral candles. Trusted brands like Raw Light offer a variety of spiral candles for every occasion.

Caring for Spiral Candles

To maximize the life and beauty of your spiral candles:

Store them in a cool, dry place.

Trim the wicks before each use to prevent uneven burning.

Avoid placing them near drafts or flammable materials.

Safety Precautions

While spiral candles can create a magical atmosphere, it's essential to prioritize safety. Keep them away from flammable objects, and never leave them unattended.

DIY Spiral Candles

Are you feeling creative? Try making your spiral candles at home. It's a fun and rewarding project allowing you to customize candles for specific occasions.

Conclusion

Choosing the perfect spiral candles for any occasion can transform ordinary moments into extraordinary ones. Whether you're planning a romantic dinner, a spa night, a birthday party, or a wedding, the suitable spiral candles can enhance the ambience and create lasting memories. So, next time you're setting the mood for an event, consider the enchanting glow of spiral candles from Raw Light.

[bluerosefox]

Over Tea

A sudden chill sweeps through Gotham, almost like Mr. Freeze had just attacked only thing was the man was currently locked away in Arkham, and was felt by all. And talked by all via word of mouth and on social media as well.

The clouds and smog that covered their dark city shifted and swirled, a rumble beginning deep inside them as the weather turned from smoggy to rain and thunder with no real warning. The strangest thing was the green glow that could be seen when thunder rumbled inside the gray clouds.

Then like a candle being blown out, the rumbling stopped, the rain ended, and the clouds parted all over Gotham.

For the first time in a while Gotham had a clear sky and it felt... it felt like something heavy had been lifted off the city.

It was this sudden shift and the all felt chill that had set off alerts for Batman and his family. Since early morning since the first change and shift happened he was in front of the Batcomputer trying to narrow down where it started.

After hours of searching with the help of Red Robin, Oracle and strangely enough Red Hood, they managed to narrow down where the odd power had been coming from.

Was still coming from, only very low.

The old and abandoned observatory tower.

-x-x-

"More ecto-tea Lady Gotham?" Danny asked, his hand waving towards the steaming pot nearby.

The woman smiled lightly, her dark painted lips curling up to show her sharp fangs for a moment before saying "No but thank you Young Kingling though I would like more cookies if you don't mind. Now where were we?"

Danny nodded towards her and signaled towards a maid skeleton ghost who walked forward with a tray of cookies. The maid swiftly placed a few more cookies on the spirit embodiment of Gotham plate before bowing and stepping away.

"We were just about to discuss the sentience of the Court of Owls." Danny said as he lightly tapped the large almost mountain of paperwork on the table they were sitting at, floating high above the floor as shooting stars and planets drifted around them. Many ghosts floated around as well, servants that had sworn their loyalty to the Young King, and were preparing things like snacks and drinks for two powerful beings in the room as they discussed business. Nearby doors and windows though were ghostly knights that stood tall and alert, making sure no interlopers interrupted the meeting taking place and ready to defend not only Lady Gotham but their King.

"Ah yes them." Lady Gotham grimaced as she took a drink of her ecto-tea. "That will take some time for us to discuss, they've been running around unchecked for to long and even with my limited abilities to hinder them has been less than ideal."

"You, Lady G, were deeply cursed for many, many years and I just broke most of it." Danny cut in quickly, he was not about to let this wonderful and powerful city spirit blame herself for something out of her hands "Due to said curse you couldn't do much so please don't go blaming yourself. Its mostly broken now, so you can freely start healing yourself and your city self now that jerk demon that cursed you is in Walker's prison for his crimes."

Lady Gotham grew silent for a moment, her dark eyes staring deeply at the young King but then warmly smiled, well as warm as she could seeing how she was Gotham itself. "You reminded me of my Knight, Young King, treating me like this. Not afraid to point out the truth and facts."

Danny gave a light laugh as he took a hold of one of the cookies on his plate and gave a bite "I'll take that as a compliment Lady Gotham. Now about those Court of Owls...."

[beababoobies]

Hey there you said you needed a Hazbin Hotel request? I got just the thing. Is it okay you do a Alastor x witch reader? Like reader was a witch before she died and is basically pretty powerful especially in magic? I like to think she covers up her body because she’s covered in tattoos that look like magic ruins or ritual symbols. Idk i just thought it would be cute of Alastor falling in love with a classy yet a badass witch who can put him in his place.

Heya Anon! Yes, Absolutely! I love my witchy friends (shoutout to Tatianna because she follows my blog.) I wasn’t sure exactly on which type of Witch you were referring to, so I decided on a random mix of diff witch cultures! Please shoot me a request if that’s not what you had in mind and I can re-write this for you. Thanks a ton for the request!

From Experience

Alastor x Fem!Witch!Reader

words : 1k , no warnings!

You let out a sigh as you started the spell you had been planning for weeks now. You had to go to Lust to get aphrodisiac rose powder, cannibal town to get the dried blood (and have a coffee and chat with Rosie, of course.) you even attended to Blood Moon festival very shortly to get some black tree root straight from the source from your friend Sally Mae. The candles had been lit - your spirit guides told you it was ready. You closed your eyes softly as you started to read out the incantation in your head.

You sighed softly through your nose as you felt yourself slowly start to float, the bone-marrow candles you had bought starting to glow a blood red colour as you felt the power of the spell start to wash over you, the magical ruins carved into your body lighting up, making you glow softly, and it was all coming together nicely, perfectly one might say - 

“Hello, Darling!” 

You let out a small scream and opened your eyes, falling to the floor with a small thud, groaning as you open your eyes to the familiar face smiling back at you, chuckling softly as you rub your head gently, rolling your eyes. Not an evil spirit. Okay, an evil spirit. But a very familiar one. “Alastor, what a surprise.” You said as he walked over to you, offering you his hand and you took it, hoisting yourself up and letting out a soft sigh as you saw the spilt wax across the floor. 

“How rude of me to interrupt you! Allow me.” He hums softly, and you watch as the candles are returned back to their original state, turning back to him with a smile, brushing your now messed hair back into place, tilting your head. “Back again so soon?” You said with a chuckle, walking into your kitchen to get a cup of tea, him following quickly behind.

Now that you thought about it - he was back very, very soon. You had last seen him yesterday for lunch, and just two days before that for an evening stroll. After seven years of absence, you could’ve sworn you hadn’t even seen him this much before he disappeared. This meant he either needed something, or he was playing you in a big plan.

“Oh, well you just make the best steaming cup of chamomile, my dear.” He compliments, sitting at your small window-side table. You chuckled, taking a spoonful of the mix you had taken years to perfect, crushing the leaves, adding in just a bit of cinnamon. You had even figured out the best tea bags. Possibly your best spell ever. You dismissed your worries as your own overthinking, sighing as you poured the boiling water into the mugs.

“No sugar for you again?” You say, eyes not looking back at him as you pull the cane sugar out from your cabinet, spooning a couple helpings into your mug. “You know me too well, darling.” He says and you blush softly, putting the cane sugar back, bringing both the mugs to the table, placing one in front of him, and one in front of yourself.

“So, why are you back so quickly, hmm?” You said teasingly, leaning back in your chair, mixing the tea in your mug lazily, toying with the spoon as you watching him dip the boiling liquid - always uncanny, how he could do that - before looking back up at you. 

“One could say I’ve taken a bit of a liking to you, my love.” He says with a smile, and you feel your face get hot - from more than just the steam from your tea. He chuckles softly at your reaction, taking another sip from his mug, leaning back in his chair and watching you try to find the right words. Platonically? It’s hard to decipher a man who’s walked out of a couple decades before your time. 

“One might even say you… like me?” You say, testing the waters as you discard your cup back onto the table, crossing your arms over your chest, skepticism all over your expression causing Alastor to let out another chuckle. “One could say that. But I hate that way of saying it.” He responds flatly, putting his mug down as well, tilting his head at you. Trying to read a man who’s face was always carved into that sharp-toothed grin was hard.

“While we are speaking of taking a liking to things.” He says, holding out his hand, a small jar of black sand from the burning desert - one of a kind, unbelievably expensive, and your eyes widened. You swallowed thickly as you eyes the small vial, looking up at him with a small grin. 

“I’m not giving you my soul for this. Tempting, though.” You said with a playful smile, watching him place it delicately on the table. “Oh, no, darling, it is yours for the price of this cup of tea. A friend gave it to me in exchange for a… favor.” He says with a small chuckle, watching you pick up the vial cautiously and inspect it, turning it upside down and watching the pitch black sand move around in the glass. 

Oh, the things you could do with this. 

“And why should I take your murder sand?” You say with a smile, looking back up at him as you toyed with vial carefully, raising your eyebrows, watching his eyes trail down to the vial and then back up to you. 

“Well, I’ve heard it’s good for love spells.” He hums softly, taking another nonchalant sip of his tea, watching you nearly cough on your own spit over the statement, collecting yourself before piercing your lips together, eyes going from him to the vial over and over. 

“And how would you know this, hmm? You some sort of ritual expert now?” You said with a playful smile and tone, clutching the vial in your hand and leaning forward, chin resting on your palm. 

“Let’s just say I can speak from experience.” 

[tyummy-rp]

do you believe in magic? | open

pu! ekaw, pu! ekaw, pu! ekaw

The words echoed in Tara’s subconscious, an attempt to pull her from a deep slumber. Her phone was lit up, 3:33 AM shining on the screen. Witching hour. In her bed, Tara was sat up right, mouth moving, words falling from her lips, though she was still totally unconscious.

Slowly, her eyes fluttered open, glowing a soft purple color that seemed to illuminate the darker space. She was still her, but there was something new inside of her, something propelling her forward.

“sdrac torat.” Again, a voice that was hers but foreign to her filled the room as she sat on the middle of her floor. “tlas.” Both her Tarot Cards and salt seemed to appear from nowhere. She doesn’t question it, in the moment is all makes sense. On the floor, she draws a protection circle, followed by a star on the inside. “Seldnac.” with that command, mini tea lights floated from her closet, “thgil.” The candles situated themselves into the proper spots on the protection circle before lighting themselves.

An hour later her room was filled with various items, tea lights the only source of light in the room. Her eyes were still glowing, a map spread out on her floor, a locator spell of sorts being done. She was missing something, and whatever was inside her was guiding her towards it. “Em wohs.” Tara was leaning over the map, focusing on the feeling bubbling inside of her. Blood dripped onto the map, an answer to a question she still didn’t understand. Bringing her hand up to her nose, she didn’t flinch, just took the location and left.

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

Hours later, Tara could be spotted on the quad. The sun had finally come out, but she hadn’t even noticed how much time had passed. Her arms were full of books, cards, various vials and ingredients, heading back to Alpha. She was still in her PJ’s, still in a trance, and eyes still glowing purple.

[ren-054]

Tiny AIW Excerpt…

(This doesn’t guarantee a bigger story in the future, have mercy on me pls /lh)

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆ .　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

(prologue thing?)

They took away everything I had left to hold onto. Everything but them, at least. It almost felt freeing, a relief, in a strange way.

The scent of flowers was thick and sweet to my senses. My thoughts slowly blur together as I drowned in the heavy aroma.

No longer did I have to uphold myself as a person. In this land, responsibility was merely a word. A silly word, at that. I was being offered the chance to be freed from the pressure of my former life on a silver platter by the people who have unfailingly proved their devotion to me again and again. Who would I be to deny them?

Gentle hands of cool metal joints and warm motors take my own of flesh. There is an unspoken promise in our grasps.

Out there, there wasn’t anything waiting for me. Really, I had submitted to my fate long before I came here. Before I met them.

I would miss the surface.. My friends.. My brother..

If I just stayed right where I was, surely I’d be happy. He said so. They both did. And I believe them, as much as they believe in me that I’ll stay. I have nowhere to run, therefore I’d never think to walk.

Here, I’ll be safe. Here, I’ll be happy.

• • • • •

(Main excerpt)

“Sugarcube!~ It’s time for tea!”

I shift as a voice rouses me awake and I groan in protest. I felt so warm… I didn’t want to get up… Get up…

Get up from where?

Eyes snapping open, I sit up, finding myself on a grass and wool-stuffed mattress. A warm blanket made of soft fibers had been wrapped around my body, shrugged off when I began to scan my surroundings.

The room was dimly lit and the air was crisp, making me imagine the walls were made of stone or perhaps bricks. Unfortunately my vision wasn’t the best without my glasses. Candles were lit about the room. There were no windows, but there was a lone door on the far wall. Was I underground?

“There’s my little sunshine!” The same voice from before warbled, followed by the clinking of porcelain. “Come! Come! Before your tea gets cold!”

With bleary vision, I turn toward the voice. At a small wooden table set in the middle of the room sat a familiarly flamboyant red-clad figure with their knees up to their chest as they tried to sit in one of the child-sized chairs. I began shuffling off the bed, brushing myself off.

“M-Mister Hatter?” I mumbled as I walked over. “Wher—“

The Hatter tutted at me before I could finish, placing a delicate finger up to my lips. “Dearest little dewdrop, I told you, you can just call me Sun!”

“Uh, Sun?” I eyed the liquid the bot was pouring into the cups. Yellow flower petals and flecks of green herbs floated prettily along the surface of the unknown brew.

“Hmmm?” Hatter hummed, the swirls in his eyes seeming to glow with warmth at the sound of his name.

“Where am I? I didn’t fall down another hole again, did I?” I rubbed at my eyes. “And have you seen my glasses anywhere?”

“Oh! Those are right here!” Dodging my first question, the Hatter pointed at the other side of the table which sat the other teacup along with the distinct sheen of my lenses against the candlelight. “Come on! Have a sit with this lonely hatter!”

“Ah, right.” I nodded before taking my seat across from the bot, putting my glasses back on once I sat. Ah, vision at last.

The first thing I realized was the room was dingy, dustier than I expected. Before I could really notice any other finer details, Sun piped up once again.

“Very good, my dear,” he praised with a light laugh that made me nearly blush. “Now then, where you are. That’s a simple one!”

I leaned in with anticipation. With a relaxed—almost smug—gaze, the Hatter answered.

“I brought you home.”

[the-clumsywitch]

So, you just realized you're a witch...

Well here's a guide to some things you might find helpful.

If it's something tangible, chances are you might already own some of these things, if not please don't stress about getting them. For some items I will include stores that you can find them as well as price points using the dollar symbol.

Candles

These can be in the form of chime candles, pillar, taper, glass, votive, tea light, etc.

You can get them in various colors but if you are trying to save money you can get white candles. And add your intention and herbs (or just your intention) to achieve your desired outcome.

They can be found at:

The Dollar Tree ($)- Best for votive, pillar, taper, tea light, jar, floating, and glass candles. They can often be found in multiple colors and scents.

Michael's craft store ($-$$) - Best for tall/large pillar and taper candles.

JoAnn Craft store ($-$$)- Best for the same candles as Michael's craft store.

Metaphysical shops ($-$$) - Chime candles and speciality candles such as glass candles with writing on them (exp: love, Orisha, justice candles) and figure candles.

Stores that sell scented candles ($$) - Examples of stores like this are Bath & Body Works and Yankee Candles. These are best for looking for candles that have scents that correspond with your particular spell. For instance, if you're doing a peace spell you may want to look for a candle that smells of lavender or a candle that puts you in a peaceful state of mind regardless of the scent name or ingredients.

Incense

Incense are excellent for air magick and you can often find them rather cheaply in most stores. I personally try to find them as toxin free as possible but you purchase what incense makes the most sense for you. Just as with candle scents, look for incense that either corresponds with your spell by the herb they are supposed to smell like or by feeling.

The Dollar Tree ($) - The ones I've been too have mainly been good for chakra incense.

Etsy ($) - There are multiple sellers with a lot of different scents and quite a few with free shipping!

Magick.com ($)

Amazon ($)

Metaphysical store ($)

Herbs

If you decide that you want to work with herbs you can usually get away with the ones you already have. However, I would caution against burning herbs that aren't organic but of course that is your decision to make. Some places to get herbs are:

The Dollar Tree (they don't have organic but they have a decent selection)

Your local grocery store

Target

Walmart

Metaphysical store

Note: If you can't find the herb you may want to consider using the essential oil instead. Only use a drip of the essential oil. You can also get a tea bag with the herb you need, rip it open, and use that.

Nail Polish

Color magick is the main thing here, but I have come across some scented nail polishes as well. Either way, you can choose a color and/or scent that corresponds to your spell. Here are some affordable brands (by that I mean the polishes from their main collection are not over $10.)

Wet n' Wild

Esssie

LA Colors

Revlon

Sally Hansen

L'Oreal

CoverGirl

L.A. Girl

Cosmetics

I know a lot of people typically include nail polish in this group but I tend to save this category for things such as lipstick, eyeshadow, eyeliner, and blush. Once again, the main purpose of this category is color magick but it can also be used for glamour magick. Some brands are:

elf cosmetics ($)

Wet n' Wild ($)

Revlon ($) - Mainly their lipsticks

Rimmel ($) - Lipstick and Blush

Nyx ($)

Revolution Beauty ($)

Essence Cosmetics ($)

Divination

If you are interested in divination there are so many types that you can easily find one that you connect with. Some forms of divination are:

Bibliomancy

Pyromancy

Tarot, oracle, and playing cards

Osteomancy

Water scrying

Crystal scrying

Mirror scrying

Automatic Writing

Tasseomancy

Pendulums

Types of Magick/Witches

It is not necessarily important that you pick a particular type of magick but I think some witches take being able to study multiple types of magick at once for granted. Not everyone is able to maintain focus while looking at magick as a whole, that's why I think separating magick and witches into types can be helpful. This is by no means a complete list but it's a start.

Celestial/cosmic magick

Elemental magick

Green witch

Hedge witch

Water magick

Earth magick

Air magick

Fire magick

Draconic witch

Eclectic witch

Lunar magick

Solar magick

Fairy magick

Kitchen magick

Sea witch

Candle magick

Ceremonial magick

This is by no means a comprehensive list and I will likely add more things to it over time or create more lists similar to this one. But I hope this was at least somewhat helpful!

-Erika, The Clumsy Witch

[jadeshifting]

— INTRO 2 THE SLYTHERINS

˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　　 . ✦　　　 　˚　　　　 . ★⋆. ࿐࿔

MATTHEO THOMAS MARVOLO RIDDLE . magic that incinerates its target. fireworks. messy hair. dice and card games. push-ups. charcoal drawings. stack of unreturned library books. steak so rare it’s bloody. insane right hook. late night swims. tall stacks of pancakes. sleeping facedown on homework parchments. perfectly split orange slices.

PANSY PANEGYRIA PARKINSON . freezing cold hands. hair clippings in the sink. espresso martinis. cartwheels. reading by the window while it storms. pears. scribbles of the moon phases. running cannonballs off the dock. sun-bleached bones. jeweled silver earrings. spinning and jumping rather than dancing. plant clippings tucked in pockets.

MILLICENT AUDREY BULSTRODE . pressed flowers in textbook pages. gentle hands. lemon loaf with poppy seeds. light pinky lip gloss. snails. doodling on notes in class. lacy bed canopy. emotional support water bottle. preserved butterfly wings. lotuses floating on the lake. jam-filled cookies. wearing wired earbuds. stockings constantly torn.

LORENZO MASSIMO BERKSHIRE . best tree climber. polished loafers. insanely loud laughing. massive record collection. slow mornings in the greenhouse. poetry books. board games. high fiving everyone. clinking potion bottles. marshmallows. loud snoring. cinnamon rolls fresh out of the oven. making paper airplanes. half-melted cookie dough ice cream.

BLAISE ORION ZABINI . a hankerchief for other people to use. caramel coffee. murder mystery books. comforting hugs. freshly pressed shirts. bumblebees. unconditionally punctual. long games of chess. pumpkin pasties. sheet music. seems to know something others don’t. impeccable manners. fresh, clean cologne. unfurling the newspaper every morning.

ASTORIA ACANTHYLLIS GREENGRASS . notes in French. seashell collection. the perfect nude lipstick. effortless elegance. going for therapeutic swims. bird baths. silent if she doesn’t have anything to say. yellow roses. mother-of-pearl. sipping matcha. wandering by the lake like a ghost. perfect posture. blackberry jam on croissants. silk pillowcases.

THEODORE TIBERIUS DONATO NOTT . coffee that’s way too strong. the worst chainsmoker. napping everywhere. silver flask. dark chocolate. bowls of blueberries. throwing huge logs in the fire. insane plays during quidditch games. refusing to put shoes on. tall glasses of butterbeer. tattered book spines. wrinkled sweaters. flittering sparrow wings. chocolate muffins.

DRACO LUCIUS MALFOY . silver rings and bracelets. pine candles. forehead creases. deft piano playing hands. perfectly slanted handwriting. the overpowering smell of wand polish. crunchy apples. terribly boring magical theory books. crisply tied parcels. freshly brewed peppermint tea. searching for constellations. crystal decanters of water. tucked bedsheet corners.

DAPHNE CLEOMEDE GREENGRASS . the most poisonous judgemental glare. shiny gold jewelry. too many throw pillows. olive juice. 20-step hair routine. sparkling champagne. cheesecake. unbelievably long bubble baths. crème filled doughnuts for breakfast. jewelry box with a lock and key. powdered sugar. loose silk tops. gold-dusted nails.

˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　　 . ✦　　　 　˚　　　　 . ★⋆. ࿐࿔

[ ib @wishicouldkeepconcentration !! ]

[gnohomotho]

Just a game (part 2) 𝄞⨾

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Pairing: Hwang In-ho / The Frontman x fem!reader

Summary: We're getting there, folks. (☞ﾟヮﾟ)☞ ☜(ﾟヮﾟ���) Mostly fluff, need, imagination, fantasy, slow burn. Focus on the f!reader, because you deserve nice things. She's home, receiving odd gifts, some sweet, some...quite the not sweet, the game and plot and trouser legs thicken (I'm so sorry, it's literally 2 a.m. here). In-ho definitely isn't obsessing over you, hatching elaborate plans, thinking of you so hard he'll break another turtleneck. Not saying the f!reader has any specific issues, but if you recognize any, I hope to be nothing but respectful. ♥ Oh, and we have a dream sequence, Freud would be proud.

(This was mainly meant as a "put your feet up and be cozy, read about yourself and feel good" read, the action will come later. Among other things. I'm so sorry, my thesis is driving me mad.)

Warnings: It's the god damn Front Man The usual Squid Game warnings, mdni, stalking, spying, voyeurism, touching, self-touching, sexual themes, sexual almost-intercourse, descriptions of anatomy and body parts, blood, yearning, some terrible references and Slavic folklore. Privacy? In my fic? It's less likely than you think.

Word count: 4.2k

Link to previous Link to next

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A cup of tea. A cup. You were watching the cup. Steam rises from it and folds into nothing. Your stomach is churning. Is it stress? You ponder. Seeing the liquid close in on itself as you stir it. Again and again.

"It'll get cold." You say, to no one. You try to breathe. Heart pounding. Head a bit spinny. You look around your room. Dimly lit, warm orange light from a salt lamp. You check your blinds - still closed, still safe. Noise from other people you try to filter out. Why do you jump at every single sound? Why does white noise blaring its head off make for the only atmosphere you can stand? You wonder. You get up. The world spins. The phone lies on your bed. As it has for the last three hours. Unchecked. Your sound is off. It always is. You turned off everything this time. It's just black. You try to think, ground yourself, poems float through your pounding head. You catch a glimpse of yourself in the tall mirrors of your wardrobe. An oddly shaped form stares back at you.

"Jesus Christ…I look…like shit." The mirrored lips curl around your words - but it might as well have been a stranger speaking back at you. You don't recognize yourself, and what you do, you dislike. Like a funhouse mirror. Without the fun. Your long hair falls across your shoulders, curling towards the ends. Your exposed skin is cold and giving a nice exposé of every vein under your neck, driving rivers of blue across your collarbones, your shoulders, your chest. You won't look further. They seem to be drawn to your middle, pooling across your skin. People often referred to you as pale, no matter your actual skin tone. When things got a tad too heavy, you became transparent. It was calming, sometimes. Calming that so much was trying to keep you alive to the point of exhausting itself and sending highways of signals through every vein to keep at it. Your head spins again. More poems. Try to drink the tea.

"Light your candle, one, two, there's a moth…" You know the rest. But the lips fail to speak. You pick up the phone. And almost knock over your tea. Then proceed to fight an urge to fling it into a wall and watch the stains roll down like fresh blood.

Seventeen missed calls from a blocked number - your now ex-companion. A worried message from your friend, no doubt spurred by said ex-companion with an entirely different story to reality. Frowning, you adjust your dressing gown and tie it down to hold everything in and hold you together.

"Hey, Y/N…I know you probably don't want to talk, but I'm sorry things went so badly. I'm here."

You hate yourself a little more. Clara has always been a darling, you…cared for her. A lot. You wish to say "loved", you squint your eyes and wish to say you love her. People are kind. People are always so very kind. And you can't drink a cup of tea. Nor reply. There's also an email. From a set of numbers, no name. You open it, against your better judgement. No subject, only a photograph. Of your door. Your door inside your flat. Which is locked. You didn't ring anyone in. You, of all people, didn't hear any steps on the stairs. You live at the very top floor. And still?! What is wrong with you lately, now of all times?

And still, there is a photograph of your door. With…things? Your shoes were gently placed beside your mat.

"Um…" You knock on your housemate's door - how grateful you are for the economic situation which doesn't permit you to live alone now, you think bitterly as his steps approach.

"Oh, Y/N, how are you? What can I do you for?" Ever the cheerful voice and visage stands before you, half dressed, always flooded with work and hobbies. The room behind him is full of papers and candles, manuals and scripts, and information that probably shouldn't be lying around covered in bird photography snaps. It calms you a tad. You breathe out and uncross your arms. In the back of your mind, you wonder what he's always so entranced with.

"I'm getting there, thank you, Lubo." Your chest falls a tad, you really do feel a bit better, but very on edge. You fidget with your fingers as you speak. "Would it be alright to ask if you could open the main door with me? Something is there and I've been listening to too many IRA anthems to trust it." Because making a joke out of a very serious situation never failed you yet.

"Sure!"

You notice one of the birds on the ground behind him. Gazing at one photograph a little longer, you smile at the birdie and its soft grey feathers, little black dash across its little eyes...you realise you're looking at a shrike. The universe really is sending her best.

════════════════════════════════════════════

You open the door as Lubo endeavours to rummage through the things on your doorstep. It seems to be a very neatly wrapped black box with a pink bow. With a little token of a crow embossed on its side. Heavy, by the looks of it. You half expect your ex-companion's limbs to be soaking its insides.

"I'll take it indoors and disinfect it, ok? Just so it doesn't feel like you've contaminated the flat." You nod, thank him over and over, and feel very grateful for him remembering your slight fights with obsessive cleanliness and parasites. But this looks…clean. You take a knife from your room, the knife that's been under your pillow for good reason. Kneeling, you gently unwrap the box altogether and distance yourself from the thing for a little bit. Breathe. It's just a box. Those never go wrong.

It's…full of…gifts?

Your…favourite flowers, perfectly preserved. No one knows your favourite flowers that well. Under them, resting under jewels of crimson poppies, lies a book of poems, the ones you use to calm yourself down; the ones that make you feel less alone. In the correct languge, even. Next to the poppies, hot water bottles, wrapped, fluffy, still warm. Under them yet, medication you couldn't get from your doctor for the entire month due to disagreements and never being heard, half of them aren't even sold in the country. Bath salts, dark chocolate, tea…there seems to be so much. Your face is caught in a mixture of attempting to frown, being swept off your feet, and deeply uncomfortable with what is basically an encyclopedia of you in a box. You carefully lay the items to the side and begin to notice things you truly need your housemate to not see. You lose your breath for a moment and blush so hard you almost forget both the kindness and terror of the rest of the package. It seems to be divided into care for you and…some other forms of urges. As if. As fucking if.

"Google, remind me to photograph this tomorrow in good light," you say to nothing, "to use as evidence either after this person manages to kill me or before, if the courts move faster than an asthmatic ant with heavy shopping."

Against your better judgement, you carry the box to your room and watch it for a while, as you do other things, but can never quite relax. Surely he can't be serious. Your name isn't Shirley.

There was also a note you now keep flinging on your table and crunching in your hands, neatly written, with no name.

"Dear Y/N,

should you wish to meet someone qualified to help with the attached records, it has been arranged. Be at the coordinates listed between the red and white gift and you will be taken care of. No harm will come to you. You are safe. As right as rain."

Right as rain…that's a part of a poem, that absolute…dear God, fuck, the thoughts in your head are tumbling down at you and you collapse onto the bed, staring at your knees. It's a good thing he somehow didn't include your most loved flowers, since they're all poisonous. One of them you like specifically because it is elegant, sharp, snowy, and beautiful - and all of her body, leaves, and seed pouches scream "don't fucking touch me, if you do, you will die and wish for death the entire time you are doing so". You would very much like to be the flower now. Make someone else hallucinate.

You search the box again and find the beautiful gown, in red, and the gentle white lace undergarments - as kind and gentle and revealing as they are elegant. A little QR code is nestled between the lace.

"Nope. Nope nope NOPE. Absolutely not," you say out loud. Fighting the fact that the nightgown under the two other garments is cozy and light and so very beautiful. And it smells…oddly familiar. With a hint of something else. As if someone knew you loved scents of sweetness, vanilla, caramel, honey, and skin combined with darker, heavier tones that don't usually mix with feminine perfumes. Something lovely and gentle to draw you in, with something far more potent, enveloping, and enthralling to drag you down the lake to drown. And yet. Still. Something else. Something more. You decide to put on the gown and stare into a little crow's eyes. Such a pretty little statue, you don't even remember where you got it from.

"I'm going to be alright. Water is fine. This is just water. We've been here, we've been in the mud up to our noses." You are whispering to yourself, trying to sooth your mind. Metaphores, poems, sooth sooth sooth. You close your eyes, think of beautiful women, barefoot, in the dark of a forest. Glistening lights in their long hair, lights in their gorgeous eyes. Light on their feet, as they dance upon the water and through the marsh. You cannot drown a forest spirit of a woman scorned. They will mesmerize you, dance you, dance you to the end of your love and tether, and pull you into the depths. Then kiss you as you gasp for air.

You undress, eyes still closed, holding the long white gown. You slowly slide into the fabric, which clings to your skin as a lover's touch at the first sign of morning light. Still trying to be as unbothered and confident as a forest Rusalka. You aren't. But the gown smells nice. And it's quite light. Long sleeves, fabric that reveals but doesn't scream. Lace around your chest and stomach, falling down your hips and thighs.

…Kiss you as you gasp for air.

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In-ho was pleased with his gift. Not only the gift, but the message. Upon message. Upon message. He wondered, quite hopeful - yet reserved - if you understood them all. No matter.

You will. Oh, you will. Every word. Even if he has to cling them to your skin, one by one, with his own lips.

To the surprise of absolutely no one except you, perhaps, the small bird brought him all the feedback he could desire. Rather low quality feedback, he thought, as he watched you ponder, watched you crunch up the note, and watched you dress. Instinctively, he looked away as you began to slide your own clothes down. He glimpsed perhaps a strap, perhaps more skin than he first saw…light reflecting off you, sliding down, further down, caressing your tenderness…yet he looked away, calmly resolute to not look back. His gaze remained firmly in the corner of the room, he certainly wasn't fighting - or imagining himself being the photons of light resting on your supple skin. No. It would be unbecoming to watch a lady undress, so vulnerable, so unknowing. Never mind the rest. If you looked up the word "hypocrite" in the dictionary, In-ho's face wouldn't be next to it. It would be on the next page, because he would never be caught. As he looked back, you were dressed, not looking at yourself.

In-ho frowns for a moment, before he sees the rest of you. Even though it's just a phone screen and the picture quality truly isn't doing you justice, his breath is caught. He shifts and looks around instinctively, only a flicker of the eyes and a small movement of the neck. But he's nervous, nervous to be so exposed. He chuckles to himself just as unnoticeably - he's spying on you yet he's the one feeling exposed..was the chuckle to ease tension? This is just a game to him and you are nothing, after all. No one. He shifts once more and uncrosses his legs, one hand slowly combing his hair firmly away from of his forehead. Nothing. Just as it is nothing that is making the jacket around his neck feel tight. He sees you stand, further away now. He sees your entirety in the white flowing fabric, the lace, the…entirety…of you. His coat needs to come off, and is discarded to the side in haste. The remaining turtleneck isn't much help, but he goes in, now fully enthralled. Positioning himself, he endeavours to enjoy you. Slowly. From the tip of your head to the soles of your feet, remaining fully in control, admiring, never taking, never grabbing. Never…needing. But as he moves down your face, your cheeks, your chin, along your neck all the way to your hair resting on your now exposed shoulders, back to your mouth and lips - he leans into the screen - those supple yet reserved, tender lips whispering gently and curling around words as if speaking to a sleeping lover in the night who is caught in a bad dream, the eyes - damn the picture quality - the eyes that glint, yet resemble dark pools amid features that are…that mean…his heart is fast. His eyes pools of reckless abandon. They flicker to the movement of your hips and tick fast, fast back up top, stopping at the almond curve the nightgown begets your breasts - In-ho's hands twitch as his fingers yearn with a mind of their own, to hear you gasp and squirm and melt under their touch as he teases, cups, and caresses in the gown's place. Tender flowers, waiting to be kissed. As you move, for him, for his eyes only, his mind floods through its inhibitions and begins racing on instinct - yet does so wrapped in cotton; barely subdued. Algorithms, scenarios, plans - ten a second - gather in his mind - resting on nothing but your features, spurred into existence by you, your lips, your form, your movement. He's watching the last flame dance before him in a sea of suffocating darkness, and it is his. Tension grips The Frontman's trousers as he digs his fingers in to feel something, anything, as if to drag himself back, painfully if need be - all this…for a low quality moving picture of you.

You. Your self before him. No adjective does it justice to In-ho, no painter could stroke its surface, nobody could own this moment. Nobody but him. And he cannot reach, reach through the screen, for you, for you mean…you in your entirety, before him, vulnerable, bare, unknowing, both a deity to be worshipped and a form to be devoured and left pleading, barely breathing under him, his grasp, his hot breath, you, you mean…

…nothing to him. In-ho leans back again. He breathes a bit faster, containing himself. As his breath slows and features fall back into place, he straightens the trouser leg and exhales. Your name is on his lips as he does so; he whispers it to himself. A name that doesn't seem to leave his tongue, no matter how many times it wraps around every syllable.

"Y/N, Y/N, Y/N…you are nothing."

He turns off the screen with one click. "Nothing." He gets up, leaving the phone behind. He is back to his true self - unbothered, cold, empty. A statue of stone. It was fun while it lasted, but the shell he wears gets tired of the falsity imbued in it during these little sidesteps. Little adventures to ease the monotony. Your records lie on the table, next to his glass of dark liquer. He walks over slowly, cradles it, sipping with restraint, and puts it down just as slowly in the exact same place. He goes on with his evening, thinking, it must be said, of nothing. He continues his work, thinking of nothing. Nothing replaces the drabble of his underlings as they update him on the latest games. Nothing is on his mind as he showers, nothing is in the water that glides down his own body. Nothing is in the warmth that he doesn't imagine being replaced nor coming from a different source. The voice of nothing is in the hiss and humm of the shower, nothing sings to him sweetly as it envelops his form. Nothing is woven into his satin sheets, nothing still smells of the perfume he picked for you, nothing is in his bed and pillows and nothing is slowly, invariably, fatally invading his mind. The cologne he uses, the same cologne he rubbed upon certain parts of the gown you now rest in, isn't combining and wildly interweaving with your gentle, warm, sweet, yet heavy scent. Nothing is everywhere and nothing is driving him absolutely stark, staring mad as he lays there - naked, exposed, amid satin sheets, it is nothing that invades his dreams and wraps him in sensations he can still only dream of.

════════════════════════════════════════════

Barren lands and dusk. No flowers. No life. In-ho is alone. As far as the eye can see lies nothing. He cannot feel his mask. A shape is in front of him, laying there, incredulous. Unfitting its surroundings. As if guided by an unseen hand, he walks up to her slowly and kneels beside her. She is dressed in white fabric, falling across her skin, exposing more than is becoming of such a form. Her hand is resting next to her head, her other at her side. She is peacefully asleep. A gentle humm escapes her lips - she must be dreaming. In-ho glides the back of his hand everso carefully across her cheek, guiding it down her neck and stopping at her collarbones. Her chest lifts in a slow rhythm as her skin touches his. She is his. Is she not? He could...open his hand, and his hand opens. He could place it around her neck, and he does. As he feels her warmth and blood pumping into his hand, he thinks he could squeeze and hold down. He doesn't. The form reacts to his intentions, seemingly, her face frowning in the most unnoticeable way, lips falling from their previous peaceful expression to a worried frown. As if caught in a bad dream.

No, no, no.

In-ho releases the pressure and merely rests his hand on her neck, pushing errant strands of hair away from her skin. They fall around her shoulders and between the fingers of his other hand, which lifts instinctively to cradle her head. Her expression relaxes, and he smiles almost on instinct. Suddenly, her eyes flutter open and gaze into his own, almost unblinking and holding his gaze. The pools of comforting darkness set in an innocent visage drive electrical current through his entire body and In-ho almost has to steady himself against the ground where his hand is holding her head, still. She isn't scared, she only gazes and studies, lays, and rests in his own dark eyes. Her smile mirrors his. As if the two of them were already familiar, already far beyond anything novel. She whispers to him.

"Darling, this isn't your place."

In-ho doesn't think, he knows the voice. The gentle, slow, melodic whisper that he wishes to hear before he goes to sleep himself. Putting more strength into his grip, he places his dominant palm in hers as it still lays beside her head. He squeezes her down. Without thought, his body shifts to move above hers, holding her gaze, now directly on top of her, without touching her body with his. His hands no longer gentle, but firmly holding down. His thumb caresses her cheek as his other hand pushes her palm into the ground.

"It doesn't need to be."

As the sentence barely left his lips, he connects them with her neck, firmly kissing the skin and pulling her into his bite. The taste is intoxicating, and beckons for more. Sweet, tender, pure, intoxicating. Down her neck he plants kisses and barely restrained bites, gliding his touch, gripping her hand and moving his other to her neck once more. He hears gasps and timid moans, and he moves down, lips brushing against her chest and resting upon it. He lets go of her hand and finally grips her, under the small of her back, caressing and squeezing her waist, lifting her body into his. Now he feels her. Now he feels her being react and pressure and squirm, now he feels the pulse of her body directly under his and melting into him. Every movement, every gasp, every beat of her heart - in his control, under him, sinking into him. Her waist lifts against his and he eagerly helps it up, feeling his need against her body, finally, all he needs to do is tear off the gown, take her, make her fully his and hear her cries and moans as he takes what is his. Still in control of himself, he fully recognizes his itch, his need, his voracious hunger. He recognizes it and fully gives into it.

But the dream does not let him.

Something is wrong. The body is colder now, her breathing is slow, her voice no longer caressing him, her being no longer reacting to his touch. The current fizzled out. Pulling away, he sees the damage done - even as her eyes are wistful and her smile still there, it is sorrowful and soft, gazing down at him although broken under him. He sees her neck and chest, her breasts exposed, her skin red with bite marks, red with his signatures. Lines where his grip failed to falter rest on her tender flesh, her pallor a canvas for his need and depravity. For his destruction. He does not want this, he does not want her like this, his mind races and tries to get back in control but cannot. The canvas before him begins to soak through in crimson, blood pools into the white fabric where he lay and pushed and tried to take her. As he watches the gown cling to her stomach with blood, fear drives cold daggers through his back. He is no longer the Front Man, he is himself. Himself before a Front Man ever was. And he is...scared. Still her voice reaches him, doing nothing to alleviate his state, doing nothing to destroy the damn invisible barrier that keeps him from holding her close, holding her together, holding him together.

"Not like this darling, not like this again."

How is she still smiling? How does she seem so cold yet encompassing an utter lack of proximity? Holding her now seems like the most sacriligeous, repugnant thing he could do. His hands shiver lightly, how is he afraid to touch her now? After all that? She is his, his, this is all so incredibly wrong! He doesn't care, he doesn't have feelings for such frivolities, she is a dime a dozen, she is worth nothing, and she is nothing to him; nothing.

And she's still smiling, a little laugh escaping her lips as if she can hear his inner turmoil and has seen it thrice before.

"Taking what you want, never what you need."

In-ho looks down at his own body, which begins to feel cold and wrong. As if missing something vital. He smells copper, his hand feels hot as he touches his chest yet his body grows colder. The last thing he remembers before waking up in a freezing sweat is looking down at his own body, now filled with open chasms wherever it touched hers - gaping empty holes that can be filled with nothing, bleeding him into the ground as she watches on.

In-ho gasps, springs up into a seated position and touches his chest, his stomach - and breathes in relief. As he is composing himself, a new manner of play begins to form in his mind. Between hurried breaths and elevated pulse beats, he plans a new way to play this game and win.

[miedei]

coming home

a/n: kind of stream-of-consciousness style little drabble <3

wc: .4k

mlist

(reblogs are the only way to promote fics on tumblr! please reblog if you enjoyed it :) )

Arriving home always went one of two ways for you. More often than not, the place would be silent, a blanket of quiet laid over the cozy apartment. You’d come in, flick on all of the lamps in the living room (not the overhead light, you were very adamant about that), make yourself some tea and plop yourself on the sofa with a book. Not a bad routine, all things considered. But the other way, the way you come home today, blows that out of the water.

The moment you toe open the door, it feels like tension has physically slid off your shoulders. The lights are on, you can smell the neroli scented candles burning, and the notes of Andante in C Minor float through the air towards you. It’s clear the heaters have been on, a pleasant warmth seeping through you as you take off your shoes. However, it seems like the cause of all this warmth hasn’t noticed your arrival yet. Creeping through the hallway on socked feet, you hear a soft humming emanating from the kitchen, the smells of tomato soup entangled with it.

The door of the kitchen is ajar, warm light from countless flea market lamps spilling out through the crack. As if unconsciously, a hand reaches in front of you to push the door open further, and it feels like an angel has lifted you off your exhausted feet.

Because, on days like these, you come home to him. A broad-shouldered silhouette is framed with rays of light, and no matter if the posture is hunched, weary, or world-worn, it is Spencer, and it is home.

Your feet advance into the light, coming up behind him, and oh!

He’s heard you, and he’s turned around and his arms are open and this feels so right.

Long fingers are tangled in your hair and the scent of belonging envelops you, a sigh bubbling up out of your lungs.

Words are exchanged, ladles are cradled to your mouth ‘just for a taste’, lips meet, and suddenly it feels like even breathing is euphoric.

[nomsfaultau]

Philza Malewife Competition Round 2

Previous round: Cleaning. Current points: The Lambs Wolves Wear (1), everyone else (0)

For a quick synopsis for the fics I’m referencing- those are here

(Zoom in below cut) Where do babies come from?: Philza reheated a slice of pepperoni pizza. It’s on a paper towel so he doesn’t have to wash dishes after. Slightly rubbery and very greasy. But it must be good, since Philza’s leftovers are what lured a bunch of homeless kids to raid his fridge.

Lighting Lanterns to Bring You Home: Fried noodles with beef and roasted mushrooms and broccoli, and a side of dumplings. Comes with a blessing of plenty from the Harvest god Technoblade. Made in the style of his homeland, and it brings him comfort in a foreign country. The spices are from his far reaching travels when petitioning the gods of every people he could find, and leads to a very unique blend.

Golden Apples (Gilded Atrophy): A dish heavily featuring golden apples! Enjoy Philza’s apple pie, apple cider, and an enchanted god apple. Slight problem….it is magically addictive/mind controlling, will trigger a body horror furry transformation sequence, and Philza will try to kill you if you eat any of his golden apples……

The Lambs Wolves Wear: This Philza is poor and notably starving to death, but he strives to feed his family as well he can. So, have some fluffy biscuits! The wheat was threshed and ground by hand, and all the butter and milk came from his own cows. Or, what’s left of them. Also maple syrup candies that he got from town that he rations out for special occasions. Let’s just hope none of this is secretly one of “Wilbur’s” illusions designed to stop Philza from noticing he’s starving…

Fault: It’s tough getting ingredients while on the run, but in Fault we see Philza is rather resourceful! Here he has roasted wild rabbit haunch, a rabbit, acorn, and foraged herbs stew, and dandelion tea. Everything was either hunted or foraged himself. It’s cooked to perfection thanks to his mastery of fire. Plates are admittedly a luxury, but oak leaves work fine, right? The tea pot is a luxury he insists upon though, this one round up from one of his vaults and likely to get cracked in a fight, much to the chagrin of historians.

Mandatory Family Reunion: The lovely spread of crown roast pork, potatoes, and grapes was of course prepared by one of his master chefs. But he claims to have prepared the pork himself. Techno is worried it’s not pig they’re eating, but the Piglins.

Worth far more than your weight in gold: [Philza] brought home food for his picky chicks! He doesn’t understand what people eat, and is very stressed about Gold Chick [translator’s note: Tommy] not eating the dead squirrels he’s been bringing. Maybe a live Technoblade will taste better?

Lord, what fools these mortals be!: With a grin and a puff of smoke, Philza conjures a cake out of thin air. Featuring a wintry chocolate tree that would make Amaury Guichon weep, delicate floating wisps of clouds and mist made of spun sugar, and flying chocolate candles. The frosting crows even fly across the cake. What? What do you mean you want a PB&J? He still doesn’t know what that is!!

Close ups below

Man this was really good art practice

[brie-is-cheesy]

Obey me incorrect quotes #2

previous | next | part 4 | part 5 | part 6

masterlist

Satan: Do you need help with that?

MC: No, I got it. struggles for five minutes

Satan: leans in Are you sure?

MC: I said I GOT IT.

Lucifer: If I hear one more complaint about you, MC, there will be consequences.

MC: Define “consequences.”

Lucifer: Punishment.

MC: Define “punishment.”

Lucifer: glares

MC: …Define glares back

Mammon: I’d do anything for you, MC.

MC: Pay Levi back.

Mammon: hesitating …Almost anything.

Leviathan: I can’t come to dinner. I’m busy.

Lucifer: Busy doing what?

Leviathan: an anime marathon in progress can be seen in the background …Mind your business.

Satan: Why are you covered in flour?

MC: Mammon dared me to stick my head in a bag of it for money.

Satan: Did you at least get paid?

MC: shrugs Define “paid.”

Asmo: I heard humans find candlelit dinners romantic.

Solomon: They do.

Asmo: lighting fifty candles This should be good.

MC: wide-eyed Are we having dinner or summoning a demon?

Asmo: winks Both.

Beelzebub: guiltily holding an empty fridge

MC: Beel… was the fridge really necessary?

Beelzebub: I was hungry.

MC: You ATE THE DOOR?!

Barbatos: sighs MC, would you please stop touching the cursed objects?

MC: I’m not touching them.

Barbatos: points to a floating relic

MC: …Define “touching.”

Solomon: Want to try one of my potions?

MC: Is it safe?

Solomon: …Define “safe.”

MC: That’s my line!

Simeon: I believe everyone deserves forgiveness.

MC: What about Solomon?

Simeon: pauses, thinks deeply Most people deserve forgiveness.

Leviathan: You betrayed me!

MC: It’s Monopoly, Levi.

Leviathan: I TRUSTED YOU.

Satan: I just finished the best book about revenge.

MC: Is this about Lucifer again?

Satan: glaring It’s always about Lucifer.

Asmo: If I fall for you, will you catch me?

MC: No. But I’ll take a photo of you on the ground for shits and giggles.

Asmo: pouting You’re lucky you’re cute.

Beelzebub: mid-snack What’s your favorite food, MC?

MC: Anything you don’t eat before I can grab it.

Beelzebub: …Fair.

Belphie: You’re annoying, MC.

MC: And you’re cuddly, but I don’t hold that against you.

Belphie: grumbles but doesn’t move away

Barbatos: The tea is ready.

MC: takes a sip This is delicious. What’s in it?

Barbatos: smiles mysteriously Ingredients.

Simeon: MC, we should do something calming today.

MC: Like what?

Simeon: Reading, perhaps?

Solomon: enters with a cauldron Or we could experiment with my latest potion.

MC: eyeing the potion nervously Reading sounds great.

[the-kr8tor]

Hi, could you do domestic fluff Hobie x reader where they stargaze on his boat and the artist reader shows off their sketchbook, maybe even draws him!🥹

Hi hun! I have a similar fic that I've been working on (the reader showing Hobie her sketchbook) so I added in your prompt (stargazing part) since we had the same idea (great minds think alike 😏), hope you don't mind! Thank you for requesting ❤️

Pairing: Hobie brown x gn! Reader/ Spider-Punk x gn! Reader

Word Count: 1.5k

Tags: no use of Y/N, no specific physical description of the reader, lovestruck Hobie, FLUFF.

ʕ⁠·⁠ᴥ⁠·⁠ʔ

There's a city-wide brownout, the usual lights in historic London are all off, the entire city enjoys a rare sight in the night sky. Without the light pollution that usually presides over the city, the stars in the sky shine brightly, blanketing the dark sky in twinkling star lights. There's no cloud in sight, therefore nothing could cover the magnificent view.

Hobie's houseboat is littered with candles, providing a romantic light on his 'porch'.

You sigh longingly for the fifth time that night, neck craning up, staring at Orion's belt. You lift your eyes off the constellation for a second to finish your sketch of Orion, pointing your little torch on the page. Your hand expertly shade in the drawing. The well loved sketchbook is filled to the brim with various drawings– some landscapes, food, dogs you encounter and an embarrassing amount of Hobie.

The pages are covered with him, whether he's sitting with a guitar in his lap, strumming away, or Hobie in his suit, sometimes with his mask on but mostly without it, and so many portraits of Hobie, you just love sketching him.

You'd die of embarrassment if he ever sees them, he might think you're obsessed with him (you are) or tease you into oblivion.

You can't help it though, accidentally making him your muse. There's just something about his perfect jawline, how his lips curve into a sly smile, or how his eyes light up whenever he's passionate about something, he gives you so much inspiration to make art.

You sigh, absolutely whipped for him. A breeze sends shivers through you, hugging your thin jacket closer to your torso.

Suddenly a heavy weight drops on your head, Hobie laughs loudly as you make a sound from the back of your throat.

"Hey!" You lift the heavy cloth away from your face, Looking closer at the heavy material, you see Hobie's familiar leather jacket, your heart swells.

" 'm sorry" he pecks the top of your head, his hands full, holding two steaming mugs, Hobie puts the mugs down on the table, the contents sloshing a bit to the sides. "Here let me"

Hobie reaches for the jacket, at first you thought he's gonna take it from you, but once he drapes the jacket behind you, your heart soars, thumping hard on your chest. You're sure he can feel it when he gets closer to you, so he could help you slot in your arms inside the jacket. You feel giddy, you smell like him now.

"There, warm enough?" Hobie rubs your arms, sneaking a look at you wearing his jacket, a smile creeping to the corner of his lips. Your cheeks heat up from his stare.

There's something in the air tonight, making the atmosphere romantic. Maybe because you're floating on the river in his houseboat currently stargazing in the dark?

"Mmhm" you nod with a shy smile, unable to form the correct words, eyes practically shaped like hearts, Hobie mirrors your expression.

Yeah, there's something in the air. It's definitely not because you're both absolutely lovestruck for each other.

He sits down, cringing when his knees creak. Damn his joints, he's trying to act cool in front of you.

You think it's endearing, adorable, even.

You give him a knowing (teasing) smile, putting your chin in your hand, while your elbow rests on the arm of the chair.

He rolls his eyes at you, but his smile betrays his true emotion. Hobie grabs his drink to hide his grin.

"Softie" you murmur.

"Drink your bloody tea, don't want you freezing to death while you're in my boat" he moves the mug closer to you.

You notice him sitting farther from you, you mentally shake your head, that won't do. So you place your opened sketchbook on your lap. Putting both hands on the back of his chair, you try to pull him towards you. But alas he's too heavy for you, your movement causes you to almost topple over.

Hobie's senses warn him before you could fall, with a strong grip on your chair, he stabilizes you. "What are you doing, love?" Words dripping in fondness.

"You're too far" you struggle as you continue to pull him towards you.

Instead of Hobie pulling your chair towards him, he slightly lifts himself off the chair, lessening the weight off it. You don't notice this, smiling triumphantly when you finally move his chair closer to you. The metal scraping against metal, makes your ears ring, but you mentally high five yourself for a job well done.

"Nice, you hitting the gym?" He places his arm on the arm rest of your chair, he's a lot closer now, breath mixing in with yours. Your cheeks heat up, you should've thought this through.

Knowing that you're too flustered to make a coherent sentence, you just nod "mmhm"

"Mmhm" he mimics you, teasing. "Right, just don't replace me with a gym bro, yeah?"

Your eyebrows knit together, taking his joke seriously "never"

He glimpses your opened sketchbook, that's miraculously still in your lap. Without thinking, he grabs it, whistling when he sees your drawing of mighty Orion.

"You drew this? Just now?"

Nodding, You try to reach for it back, please don't flip through it, you thought, embarrassment creeping up to you.

Hobie, being Hobie raises it higher away from your hands. He pretends to compare the constellation in the sky to your drawing. "Can't believe you drew this the whole ten minutes while I was making tea"

"Yeah, the stars inspired me, can I have it back, please?"

" 'm not done admiring it" he holds it with both hands, thankfully staying on the same page.

You grit your teeth, hoping, praying he doesn't move to another page.

Mother nature has a different idea though, a strong wind rushes past, rocking the boat slightly, the candles you meticulously lit up, blow out in the wind; the pages of your book flips widely, conveniently (unfortunately for you) stopping at a sketch of Hobie.

Oh, fuck. You internally curse. Nope that's it he's gonna get weirded out, and he's gonna break up with me. You keep catastrophizing.

"Is that me?" Hobie moves the book closer for inspection, his eyes roam to the perfect copy of him on the page, his heart skips a beat. "When was this?"

You put your face in your hands, you groan out, "I'm sorry, I should've asked for permission"

He's confused, Hobie closes the book, placing it carefully on the table. He grabs your hands carefully, you can feel the calluses on his fingertips.

"Nothing to be sorry about, look at me" he waits for you to remove your hands from your face. "I liked it, hey," he rubs the back of your hand with his thumb, "you don't need to apologize"

You sneak a peek through your fingers, "you must think I'm a weirdo"

Hobie ducks his head to meet your eyes "yeah, because you are, knew that before I dated you, but you're my weirdo, yeah?"

You close your fingers together, hiding your flustered state from him, he called me his? You completely forget the part where he called you a weirdo.

"Enough of this, yeah?" He shakes you slightly "you don't need to ask permission to sketch me," he shakes you again, trying to make you laugh,

"I like" shake "it" shake "and I" shake "fancy you" Hobie shakes you harder, you smile behind your hands.

You bravely remove your hands away from your face.

"There you are" Hobie grins, while you look at him through your lashes, bashfully.

"You mean it?"

"We're literally together" he says through his laughs, Hobie cups your jaw affectionately "we're stargazing, even though it's bloody freezing, you think I'll do something like this if I didn't fancy you?"

"And you made me tea," you point out.

"And I made you tea, which you haven't even taken a sip yet, you ungrateful shit" Hobie smiles through his swearing, even with him cursing at you, you smile widely at him, knowing that's how he shows his affection.

You gather all your courage "you wanna see the rest?"

He taps your cheek "you sure?"

"Mmhm" you nod.

Hobie searches your face for any doubt, but finds none. He grabs your sketchbook, opening it to the first page. His own face greets him.

He whistles "who's that handsome man? I like his piercings"

"You dork," you laugh, pushing your face closer to his bicep, feeling his warmth through his hoodie.

Hobie releases his bicep from your hold, you pout, but he places his arm behind you, bringing you closer, a flustered smile replaces your pout.

He flips a page, a sketch of the planet saturn.

"You can actually see saturn from here" you say softly, content in his arms.

"Yeah? Point it to me" Hobie whispers against your hair.

You both crane your neck up, Hobie follows your pointing finger.

"Right there"

"Yeah?" He buries his face closer to your hair, muffling his voice.

"You're not even paying attention," you say softly, noticing his relaxed state.

"Nah, continue, I'm listening" Hobie cuddles to your side closer.

You let him relax in your hold as you point out more planets and constellations.

ʕ⁠·⁠ᴥ⁠·⁠ʔ

Thanks for reading! Consider reblogging if you enjoyed it ❤️

[nathanbatemanfucker]

Sprinkles

about this: HAPPY BIRTHDAY MARC SPECTOR (aka the love of my life). gn!reader. contents: a birthday fic, illusions to abuse/mental health issues, canon typical mentions of DID, internal angst, fluff, kissing. wc: 738. not beta’d.

moonknight masterlist

Marc wakes to the smell of something distinctly sweet, though he isn’t sure what it is. He is hit with that deep sadness that has rooted itself inside of him since he was just a little boy. Another year has passed— he’s made another trip around the sun. Another year to remember and forget, to fight his demons, to look in the mirror and be nothing but a grim reminder of his broken family.

But, then he hears a familiar tune, a whistle floating through the air that makes him feel light. Your whistle. A new reminder that he has a new family. That in some ways he created a new family within himself, one that you readily accept.

He turns to bury himself in your pillow, smothering the goofy grin on his face. He’s still growing used to this feeling, of being happily and safely in love.

There is the patter of your feet, the chatter of dishes, the sound of a tea kettle. When he finally sits up, there’s a card with his name scrawled across it on his bedside table, along with a small heart-shaped box of chocolates.

He laughs as he reads the card, though your sentiment is sweet and means a lot to him, given his tumultuous childhood with little joy.

For the man who has a sweet tooth that rivals a 7-year-old. You deserve every confection on this earth— none are sweeter than you. All my love.

Marc tucks the card into his drawer, along with a few other things you’ve gotten him, a watch from his father, and his old wedding band. Things with meaning. He picks up the box of chocolates and heads out to the kitchen where he knows he’ll be met with the happiest sight on earth— you.

“Mornin’,” He calls out to you, his voice still rough from sleep.

You whirl around, fixing him with a smile so wide and genuine it makes his cheeks warm. “Good morning, lovey. Sit sit, it’s almost done,” You gesture to the kitchen table.

Marc sits as instructed, watching patiently as you start to get everything ready. You set down in front of him: coffee that he knows will be perfectly made, two different stacks of what both seem to be funfetti pancakes, extra sprinkles, whipped cream, and syrup.

“Did you know that most funfetti pancake recipes don’t call for any actual funfetti cake batter? Seems fraudulent don’t you think?” You ask as you fix a plate for yourself and sit beside him.

He hums in agreement. “Hence the two different kinds?”

“Well I wanted to see which you liked better, a traditional recipe or mine,” You reason, stabbing a candle into both of his stacks so that you can light them. Leaning close you, brush your lips against his cheek as the flames flicker.

At this moment, Marc feels like the only people that exist are you and him. He’s overwhelmed with happiness and tenderness before you even speak another word. Marc wants to be alive. He wants to live with you, year after year. He wants to know who could be with you by his side.

As if you’ve read his mind, you whisper to him, “Happy birthday, Marc Spector. I hope for you, more love, more growth, more happiness, and contentment.”

Marc inhales shakily, his eyes growing wet with tears. He nods, reaching out to grasp your hand and squeeze, hoping that the gratitude he’s feeling is clear. You raise his hand, kissing it gently before gesturing towards the candles.

“Make a wish, Marc.”

He could. He lets his eyes flit around the space, his mind flitting through ideas as he takes in his surroundings. A loving light in your eyes. The sweet scent of funfetti pancakes. Coffee the color of dark caramel. The perfect box of chocolates. This place that you both call home. Marc realizes he loves things just the way they are right now. He closes his eyes and wishes that every day will hold even a fraction of the warmth it does right now.

He guides a hand to your chin, pulling you close by it so he can press a grateful kiss to your mouth. “Thank you, sweetheart, all of this is great. More than I could’ve asked for.”

“Get used to it, Spector,” You laugh, mouth brushing his.

“I’m working on it, but for right now, I think it’s time for me to try some pancakes.”

moonknight taglist: @ninebluehearts , @rmoonstoner, @later-gators12, @foreverinwanderlustt-blog, @aleeb, @eyelessfaces, @marc-spectorr, @missdictatorme, @toracainz, @mccn-bcys, @campingwiththecharmings, @whatthefishh

[bainksan]

Could we please get general relationship headcanons for Erza, Juvia, and Mirajane. Preferably with a gender neutral s/o? Thank you!

would love to write for my favorite fairytail ladies !! :) and yes it will be a gender neutral reader

General Relationship Headcanons with Erza + Juvia + Mirajane v❦

Erza <3

Usually in a relationship theres always one person whose mostly in control

and yeah that'll be Erza for sure

She isn't exactly...controlling she just has to make sure at every second of every minute of every hour your safe

So this means she's gonna be walking behind you at most points (Gotta make sure theres no sneak attacks)

To the average person it may seem a little drastic but no this a normal occurrence

An average date is usually and sadly just hanging out in the guild hall splitting any kind of desert that's served that evening

Sadly because you both don't get a moment of peace with the normal shenanigans that happen (by shenanigans I mean Natsu and Grey)

It's hard to go out on normal dates because Erza, as much as she loves you, is the guilds rock and has to always make sure that everything is alright and no ones on fire

When you both do get the time, you love late afternoon picnics

Several desserts and treats

Erza loves how much you love picnics and when you first brought up the little date idea she was already planning your wedding

You and her chat and talk while splitting your favorite foods and treats.

When it gets darker outside she'll put her arm around you and rest her head on your shoulder

This usually ends up with you both falling asleep outside in the cold.

She'll invite you out for cafe dates and shopping trips

No matter what you say she's always gonna pay for you

Juvia <3

oh lord this women adores you

like literally adores you

shes your number one fan and supporter

constant rainy dates is a must

ever since you started dating you both have taken up knitting

so that means alot of knitted gifts to each other like little dolls and animals

sooooo much pda

like so much fricking pda

whether her arm is around your waist or her head is resting on top of yours she always has to be touching some part of you

shes always gonna come off as clingy but thats okay !!

when you first met she lowkey stalked you

and by stalk i mean she followed you around the guildhall trying to build up the courage to talk to you

before she even knew it you were complimenting her hat causing her to practically melt on the spot

she ended up walking you home that night after stopping at magnolia's local antique and tea shop

also dont expect to have many close friends'

as amazing and darling juvia is she is the most jealous woman on the planet

she will not take kindly to anyone getting in between you too

although if she knows them too, someone like wendy or natsu or just basically anyone she's already friends with, she'll probably lay off

dont get any funny ideas because juvia can always detect a love rival

Mira <3

congratulations your dating the sweetest woman on the entire planet

like genuinely the nicest

dates with mira are heaven

surprisingly you both don't go out much on dates

she usually invites you over to her house where she'll prepare dinner and have the both of you bake cookies

sometimes you both end up messy in egg yolk and baking powder

when lissanna and elfman are home she'll lovingly (yeah thats the word for it) kick them out so you both can spend some quality time together

mira loves cuddling

she loves when you can rest your head on her lap or her stomach and you both fall asleep holding each other

you just might be the reason mira's addicted to napping

a really comforting activity your both addicted to now is bubble baths with each other

its never really a sexual thing, more like two adults just floating around a hot tub

you both light a couple candles and bring a couple of books into the bath, and you chat for hours

you end up talking more then you end up cleaning yourself

you talk about the latest gossip like natsu and lucy getting together and all the other romance taking place in the guildhall

you've both non-verbally agreed that bubble baths are your thing and if you end up in the tub by yourself your doing something wrong

Congratulations your dating the sweetest woman ever

halfway through writing this i fell asleep oh my

anyway i love u huns kisses dont forget to request

[vinylfoxbooks]

September 23 - Candle | @into-the-jeggyverse | wc: 735

“Merlin, do you have enough candles?” James asks, walking into the bathroom while Regulus preps for his ‘me night bath’ that Regulus tries to have once a month. Regulus is currently leaning over the tub, placing the tenth lit candle that James can see, three more sitting on the counter waiting to be lit. Next to the candles is a jar of dried rose petals that Regulus collected from the last time that James bought him roses, a bathbomb, and a tray with a book sitting on top of it.

Regulus looks up at them from where he’s kneeling over the tub, giving them a glare, “It’s mood lighting, Jamie, something that you wouldn’t know about.”

“Oh, my apologies, your majesty.” They walk over to him and lean over, pressing a kiss to his temple, “Would you like me to make you some tea so you don’t have to worry about the water getting cold or your tea getting cold?” 

“Mhm,” Regulus nods, “That would be wonderful.”

“I’ll get the water boiling right now,” James smiles, standing back up straight and walking out of the bathroom. 

When they do finish with the tea, they bring it back up to the bathroom where they find Regulus just getting into the water. The lights have been turned off and James can see steam from the pure heat of the water that Regulus is getting into, a layer of rose petals floating around and a bathbomb starting to fizz at the other end of the bathtub. When he’s settled he looks up at his partner, “Can you put my tray over the bath?” James smiles and goes over to place the mug of tea down before bringing the tray to Regulus, following it shortly with the tea. Regulus smiles at him lovingly, “Thank you Jamie. Would you join me?” 

James hums and reaches down to run their hand through his hair, “Let me go get myself something to drink and I'll join you.” Regulus nods and watches James leave. When they come back to the bathroom, Regulus has his head dropped back against the wall, the book on the tray forgotten temporarily. James is quick to get undressed and gently move the tray further down the bathtub, putting their own tea on it, then sliding into the bath just behind Regulus. The younger hums once James is settled and has Regulus fully settling against their chest, his head now falling back onto their shoulder.

James smiles gently at their husband, starting to work their hands over Regulus’ body in a gentle massage, “Pull the tray closer to us, baby, you don’t want your tea to get cold.” Regulus nods and cracks an eye open to do as James requested, taking a sip from his mug before going back to laying against James with his eyes closed. 

He lets James do what they wish, running their hands through his hair, gently tracing over his muscles, bringing his mug to his lips to drink, lathering his hair with shampoo and conditioner in the way that they know Regulus likes. 

As James is gently scratching at his scalp while washing the shampoo out of his hair, he hums, “You’re horrible for my reading.”

“You were the one that invited me in here.” “And I regret that.”

“I can leave.”

“No. Keep going,” Regulus hums. James laughs gently but finishes washing his hair and starts lathering soap and a washcloth over the younger’s body, passively talking about whatever comes to mind to fill the silence -- they can’t handle silence and Regulus has admitted a couple times that he adores listening to James rambling. They take a while to finish up with the bath, before the water gets cold and they’re helping Regulus get out of the bath, handing him his towel while they set to work on draining the tub and cleaning out the rose petals and whatever is left from the bathbomb. 

After all is said and done, the book put back on Regulus’ nightstand, the mugs sitting in the sink, Regulus lying down and ready for a nap, and the candles snuffed, James changes into comfortable clothes and settles down in the bed with their husband, “How was your ‘me night’?”

Regulus hums, “Wonderful, thank you Jamie.” 

“I did nothing,” James smiles, shaking their head, “That was all the candles.” Following that with a laugh when Regulus kicks their shin.