#home remedies to control hair fall

[beautytipslipika]

How to Sto Hair fall | How to Grow hair faster naturally #beautytipslipika

[phootra]

5 ESSENTIAL TIPS TO PREVENT HAIR LOSS TIPS

Maintaining healthy hair is essential. But many people are experiencing frequent hair loss these days. Continuous levels of stress, unhealthy diet, busy routine, genetic disorders, and habits like smoking, excessive air pollution, have increased the rate of hair fall in more than one-third of the population. Thinning of hair is also the main concern these days. Below are some tips and home remedies to keep your hair healthy and prevent hair loss. These remedies have been proven useful for treating dandruff and hair fall.

Massaging your hair often- Taking about 15 to 20 minutes to rub your scalp softly at night will not only prevent hair loss but also encourage the growth of your hair. Regularly massaging your hair from the forehead to the nape and repeating the same procedure will stimulate your blood circulation and will help you have shiny and healthy hair. The results might be slow, but never forget that patience is the only key to having long-lasting healthy hair.

Practicing Asanas- Practicing forward being asanas that help enhance the blood flow in the body from the head region to the toe. The downward dog poses and standing forward bending asanas are recommended and proven to be the best practices for best results. Experimenting with various hair care products might pose a risk to your hair, especially for people, who are unaware of their hair type. Practices like these promote hair growth and prevent hair loss.

Regular hair washing- Washing your hair with good and a mild hair care shampoo at regular intervals is the best and safest way to reduce hair fall. It keeps the scalp clean and lowers the chances of adhering to dandruff or bacteria which are the root causes of hair loss.

Messaging with best quality hair care oils- Using the best hair care oil for massaging your scalp gives the best results as oiling your hair thrice a week increases the tensile strength and helps prevent breakage. Regularly massaging your hair with hair care oils for a few minutes will nourish your hair by providing an adequate amount of nutrients. Almond and sesame oils are the best for dry hair.

 Hair care treatments- Many Hair care treatments in the best salons in Jodhpur are available with many hair spas offers. In the current situation, many home services salons are available. If you are too occupied with your work, getting a hair spa in the best salons in Jodhpur is suggested as it helps fight hair fall issues also.

Adapting to some of the above measures will help you improve the quality of hair by making them strong, shiny, and healthy that will eventually prevent hair loss.

Tips To Protect Hair From Heat Review

Top Hair Care Tips to Maintain Healthy Hair

[spdrvyn]

needy — miguel o'hara drabble

fluff. teensiest bit suggestive. wanted to write something nice, sweet, and sleepy before actually getting to work on the stuff i really need to do, enjoy!!!

you were selfless, it was your greatest strength and miguel's greatest weakness. he'd insisted countless times that whenever it hit midnight and he still wasn't home from work that you should just go to bed without him, but you argued that you'd wait as long as you could.

you were overly ambitious, equipped yourself with a ton of remedies to combat any sort of drowsiness. coffee, caffeine shots, sugary treats, anything that could keep you awake. to see miguel again.

you were also weaker than you'd like to admit. once miguel got home, silently sliding the windowsill up so that he wouldn't disturb you, he saw that you were absolutely knocked out on the couch. your phone was screen flat on your cheek and he had to bite his lip to suppress a small laugh from escaping.

nevertheless, he found it adorable. how you'd put in so much effort to see him every night, knowing full well of his inconsistent schedule, and you'd end up falling asleep anyway. he didn't need to think another thought before he scooped you up into his arms effortlessly, carried you into your shared bedroom, and laid you down on the bed.

he draped the blanket over your limp body, tucking the duvet into the gaps of the bed frame to make sure that you were nice and snug. he wanted to just jump in with you, but he had a few more tasks that needed completing first. also a shower. can't forget that.

however, just as he's about to walk away, a small tug on his wrist caught his attention and his head turns. looking down to meet your hazy eyes, your cheek is smooshed from pressing up against the pillow, it makes your voice a little muddled.

"stay," it was so soft, quieter than a pin drop, but it was a plea. he could hear it in your voice how much you needed this, but he couldn't blame you. all of that to see him again, to bask in his presence.

"haven't even taken off my suit yet, corazón." his lips left a tingling sensation on your forehead as he pecked the surface of it, one hand cleared your face of any stray hairs.

"please?" you tried again, miguel wasn't always the best when it came to self-control. you were a bad habit that he constantly found himself indulging in, he loved it.

"fine," he gave in, you scooched over to the other side of the bed to give miguel space and he consumed it, even through the unstable molecular fabric of his suit, you felt him. you needed more. "if i smell like shit, then that's on you."

"'s okay, mig." you rambled in your sleepiness, "it's all from protecting the city, hm? from protecting me, so brave you are."

shit. that caught him off-guard, he's so grateful to whatever deity is out there that you probably can't see the shade of red that covered his cheeks when you said that to him.

"... thank you." was all he could muster, that is until you said something that really tipped the scales.

"take off the suit, please."

the rate at which is heart raced could combat the speed of the flying cars in the city, ran faster than any bullet train in the past, present, and future. his grasp on you tightened. "i'm- i'm not—"

"i know," you shoved your face into the crook of his neck, hushed miguel's sentence with more kisses and he moaned. "but i missed you. i just want you to touch me then we can sleep, all right?"

scratch the selflessness. you alone were his greatest weakness.

"anything for you."

[faerievampling]

Killing Time

Chapter 14: Sky

Pairing: Ascended Astarion x Vampire Tav (Female Reader)

Word Count: 5k

total word count: A perfect 68k lol

Link to AO3! | Killing Time Masterlist

Warnings: 18+. PiV and vaginal fingering.

Last Chapter | Next Chapter

That was that, Astarion decides. After he made love to you under the canopy of a tree, your hair falling on the grass below you, he kept his cock inside you for a few moments, doting on your ethereal beauty and his fully actualized love. It was hardly proper lovemaking, but the two of you have infinite time to be inside each other – he will remedy this and love your body the way it deserves, soon.

He decides he would let you play some more: he enjoys submitting to you, more than he would like to admit, that much was true – you allow him part of yourself in these moments, and he relishes it. Other times, it was like you have a barrier around yourself keeping not only him, but even yourself standing at the precipice of the heart of your fractured mind. But Astarion believes he can fix it, that he can fix you. It’s his job to keep you safe, as your master-husband, and he’s certainly going to try.

You will find the weapon, promptly hand it over to Angel, and then Astarion will proceed to take back control, whisking you back home where you belong. This all had gotten far out of hand, he thinks, and he loves you too much to let you take any more risks. Thinking about all of this, of his failures and his need for correction makes him want to sob in your arms. 

Astarion can’t let you leave again. He’s decided he must do what it takes, even if it hurts him.

He has his arms wrapped around you, his embrace tight. He feels like he can’t get enough of you, which is why he needs to drink your blood and fuck your sweet holes with his tongue and cock, his fingers too, as many as you would take: he knows three is your limit, but he rather likes the idea of doing what he likes to you, maybe something new, or something the two of you hadn’t done it a while…surely that would please you. The thought is delicious to him, and it furthers Astarion’s belief that he knows what’s best for you: his sweet, perfect wife. 

No more fighting. No more githyanki, no more contracts: Astarion will kill the wretch, Angel, freeing you, before delightfully consuming you, reigniting the connection the two of you once had. He will figure out the logistics of it all later after the two of you have dealt with this nonsense of a quest; Lae’zel will be rather devastated when he refuses her, he knows, but he is willing to send his most competent spawn in his place, continuing to support her cause. Astarion thinks maybe this would make you happiest, and least likely to fight him. This way, he can focus his efforts back on trying to gather the remnants of Toril and you, of course.

Astarion plants a wet kiss on your forehead, still holding your trembling form. The longer you let him hold you, your body relaxes; you’re smelling the base of his neck, gently kissing him, and Astarion is practically purring. He knows it will be trial and error joining in the flesh with you, but he will be patient.

“I’ve got you,” Astarion whispers, trying to soothe you; your reactions to his touch deeply wound him, and although your aversions have nothing to do with anything he’s done to you, a loathing quickly befalls him. Astarion’s mind has long strengthened and healed from his past, but when the loathing does descend on him, he cannot hide it in his face, or in his words.

“I’ve got you, too…” You reply, searching his eyes. You stay like this for some time, relishing in this strange, faux display of trust. Words mean little to you both: Astarion knows he will have to earn your trust back, and he fears he will destroy it entirely if he pushes you too much. But maybe that will just have to be the price for keeping you. Astarion silently begs this will all be easier than he knows it will be.

The two of you walk back to where you had left Lae’zel. Astarion and his beloved only realize the damned Aasimar has appeared when you see his massive, white wings through the tree line. The two of you had (for the most part) hurriedly cleaned up after coming back to yourselves in the forest, Astarion pulling you into a long-needed embrace after. The rain still drizzled, but at this point, it hardly matters to Astarion anymore. The two of you are safe, together, and you were going to complete this errand and go home. 

The two of you groan at the sight of Angel. Astarion mindfully shields his thoughts, telling you to do the same, but he isn’t sure you’re listening. 

Exiting the treeline, Astarion notices Angel’s eyes fall on you immediately, scanning over your body, as if he had the right to look at it, which pisses Astarion off. The Ascendant’s top lip twitches at the feeling of violation. You stand in front of Astarion, who presses his chest to your back, placing a hand on your shoulder. When Astarion gently tugs at the ends of your hair, you turn to him, looking him in the eye with a hint of defiance as begin to confront Angel. It reminds him of when you used to lead the party, how valliant you looked in your armor; gods, you took his breath away…

“What are you doing here?” You ask, your voice demanding. Angel has that fucking smile on his face, the smug look that Astarion desperately wants to beat off of him. He is a rather gorgeous creature, Astarion thinks, his height towering over the three of you, the flutter of his almond eyes and long lashes almost making him appear truthfully amicable.  

“Have you tried telling this patron of yours to wear clothes?” Lae’zel asks with a spat.

“You like what you see, there isn’t any need to lie~” Angel speaks to Lae’zel, but his eyes haven’t moved from you. “Mrs. Ancunín! I missed you, girl. Come here.” Angel holds out his hand to you. 

“I think not. Why are you here?” Astarion growls over your shoulder, baring his fangs.

Angel smirks, pointing at you as his eyes shift over to Astarion. “I can smell her orgasm from realms away, ha. What would you say if I told you I just came here for a taste of her?”

Hearing about his wife’s orgasm from Angel makes Astarion’s chest radiate with a rage-filled heat, his throat tightening. He almost misses Angel’s state of diminished power, but he can see the vulnerability in the aasimar’s eyes. 

“Relaaaax, Astarion. I just need to borrow her, for like, a few minutes, ‘kay?” Angel continues, walking closer to the two of you.

“Not a chance– “Astarion begins, but you interrupt him with a glance. No matter what you said next, there wasn’t a chance in the hells Astarion would let you run off alone with Angel, not without a fight.

“Is it about the sword?” You inquire, crossing your arms.

Angel laughs. “Ah! So it’s a sword. Lovely!” 

You’ve puffed yourself up, your fury emitting from you for all to see. “What the fuck is this, Angel?”

Astarion understands the dilemma here: you believed Angel had been showing you visions, leading you to the weapon you seek. This seems partly true, at the very least, but how could you know precisely what you’re looking for, when Angel didn’t? 

“All I do is push you in the right direction, beautiful. I’m just a darling angel, Mrs. Ancunín. You’re the psychic!” Angel seems to muse on you, his eyes lighting up amidst the fainting stars. The sun was beginning to rise, and Astarion wished for nothing more than to be warm, dry, and in bed. “Listen, Astarion, buddy!”

“But how!?” You ask, just as Astarion hisses out:“Oh I am most certainly not your ‘buddy’.”

“Again, literally two minutes! It’s for a very good cause, Lord Ancunín,” Angel replies, ignoring you and looking over to Astarion.

“Enough of this! Tav, control your men!” Lae’zel yells. You stiffen in Astarion’s hold, who most certainly doesn’t like Angel being referred to as ‘your man’. 

“I’m her only man,” Astarion sneers.

Angel also disagrees. “Not really a man! I don’t follow the silly rules of this realm~”

After a moment, Angel continues: “Tav, you could say I…don’t like being put in a box.”

“Ha.” You give a humorless laugh at his pun. Although you’re clearly not all that amused, Astarion doesn’t like the idea that you and Angel have inside jokes, now, because when the hells did that happen?

“I cannot handle this prattle. You are both beholden to Tav in some way, are you not?” Lae’zel’s question pierces through the tension between Astarion and Angel, the two looking at each other.

“Beholden?” Angel asks, as if he’s tasting the word in his mouth. It’s bitter.

“Of course I am. My blood runs through her veins,” Astarion asserts, determined to end this entire conversation quickly. Astarion is your family: that is more than Angel can ever be to you, right? 

“She has my eye. Like, my actual eye.” Angel puts his hands on his hips, looking rather annoyed at the whole debacle. The more Angel speaks, the more Astarion detests him.

“And are the two of you not adults? Figure it out amongst yourself, with your words.” Lae’zel’s eyes sweep over the men, looking between them. She is clearly frustrated, having gotten tangled up in a mess that is not her own. You’re silent; Astarion can’t really see your face, as his arms have coiled around your waist and chest.

“Have you really nothing to say?” Lae’zel snaps at the three of you this time. Astarion can feel how you become restless in his tight hold. He knows you need space: but he needs you more…

“I’m not ever gonna hurt your girl,” Angel breaks the silence. His eyes soften. “‘Cuz she’s my girl too.”

Your hold on Astarion is the only thing that keeps him from lunging at Angel.

You turn to Astarion, still in his arms as you look up at him. He knows there isn’t anything he can do to stop you: and he doesn’t want to plead to you in front of Angel and Lae’zel. He can only shoot you the most puppy-eyed look ever, hoping to melt your heart. So maybe you would refuse Angel’s request – he hadn’t structured it as part of the contract, and although Astarion can’t really be sure, he thinks Angel is giving you a choice.

Astarion doesn’t like employing tactics such as this to manipulate your choices, because the two of you had been on the same page for so long in your lives, it’s almost strange to him to be doing this at all. Astarion was used to making your decisions for you, most of the time, especially the important ones. It was that very trust that is the foundation of your relationship.

Was. Astarion swallows harshly, blinking away the rising tears. As he feels you slipping from his grasp, he does what he must. And he’d rather not resort to drastic measures: he will try to coax you at the right moment (which is certainly not now, despite Astarion’s eagerness to take you to bed again), to please you and plead with you to stay with him for eternity. The two of you have many solitary castles to choose from where he could tuck the two of you away: no servants, no spawn, just you and him in existing bliss, forever…

Even if you fight him, he’s certain after some years, you will be quite happy with the arrangement. Astarion knows this in his heart. Last time, he had given up his plight of keeping you contained in the depths of a forgotten palace after only a few days. But now, Astarion can take advantage of your lack of connection to him: he can’t feel everything you do, anymore, so it would be easier for him to make the harder choices, he thinks. And hard choices that they would be, because he didn’t want to take away any of your freedom, but you have already been hurt. Astarion just loves you so deeply, he doesn’t know what else to do: ‘this is the only way to keep my beloved safe.’

Your face turns to a frown as you study him. “I won’t be gone long.”

“I don’t want you gone at all. You shouldn’t leave my side.” Ever. Astarion wouldn’t go any further than this, because what he wants to say isn’t fit for anyone else’s ears. He won’t humiliate himself. 

“Astarion,” You say firmly, tilting your head up, as if to level yourself with him. You grab his jaw, bringing his chin down; your touch is as firm as your voice, and Astarion isn't sure if he should allow this to continue, but he can’t help but take what he can get from you, as pathetic as this makes him feel. But something about your voice; the memory of you handing him Geldon Moth’s head flashes before his eyes. You really are so special. So strong. Two vampire lords down, and you are still standing. Maybe it really isn’t so bad, being yours. “You know that I have to. I swear to you I will be back by your side before you know it.”

Astarion believes you. You had gotten back to him after the impossible, entirely without his help: he was sure, both in the forefront of his mind and in its recesses, that you would return to him intact. You plant a desperate kiss on his lips before pulling away; Astarion holds you to him for just a moment before releasing you.

Astarion watches as his sweet wife walks into the arms of the large winged beast; Angel is eager to receive you, Astarion can tell. His eyes, the gold and the godsdamed ruby, search you hungrily. Angel is far bigger than you and Astarion can’t help but imagine him fucking you. Your pussy would be so tight, Angel would have to be careful if he had any hope of sliding his massive cock inside you – fucking you with his large fingers and his freakishly long tongue would probably be enough for you, but Astarion imagines Angel being a brute in bed and forcing you on his cock, stretching out your tight holes before you’re ready. And Astarion knows you would love it, because children born of the pleasure domain, well – it speaks for itself. Angel is incredibly desirable.

Astarion can’t stop himself before he goes down this rabbit hole of thought: You wouldn't ever be unfaithful to him, would you? You never were in the past, even when your relationship was open, you never broke the rules…but you are different now. And you already had been unfaithful, right? You willingly fucked Lord Moth and at least one of his spawn, you kissed Angel…

Astarion winces. ‘To get back to me. She did those things to be with me.’ There isn’t enough known to Astarion about your captivity, so his mind fills in the blanks, most certainly for the worst: and even he knows it.

You look back at him as Angel wraps his wings around you, the two of you disappearing to god knows where. Astarion can’t understand Angel’s magic – was he a force truly greater than even the desecrated ruins of Baldur’s Gate?

Astarion can feel Lae’zel’s eyes on him as he speaks,“He must die.”

“I’m not surprised to hear it. But I’ve never known you to shy away from power. What he offers Tav is…extraordinary,” Lae’zel says, her voice almost far away as her mind shuffles around the possibilities of what Angel may bring you. 

“Only because I don’t know the cost, and what is on the line is precious,” Astarion replies, lost in thought for just a moment before he continues. “He watches her while she sleeps, if he can. He visits her in her dreams, if she allows it. He’s come to her three times already since she’s been back home.”

“You’re jealous.”

Hmph.“Concerned.” Astarion darkens. Lae’zel’s already deduced that Astarion fears you like Angel almost as much as he likes you. “He has a part of her inside of him. And he’s inside of her.”

Astarion grimaces before repeating himself. “He must die.”

“I’m certain you will be the one to do it.” Astarion understands what Lae’zel means by this: he must be the one to save his sweetheart. 

Your celestial light and power courses through you during the fight with the beholder, your body feeling hot – it was almost uncomfortable, but it seems to fuel you. Your psychic energy, separate from that of typical magic connected to the weave, was the only thing you could rely on. 

“Those two are so interesting, ha. I heard some very spicy things from Lae’zel’s big weird brain. A pity your husband is going through such lengths to block his mind from me.” The two of you are back in Angel’s domain: it’s the same place he visited you during your dreams. You aren’t even sure how you’ve gotten here, if you’ve teleported physically or what, and you think about just how much you don’t know about your patron. But he certainly knows much about you. The only thing you can glean is that Angel doesn’t feel well: sensing his general state of being, you know something has happened, but you don’t intend to inquire about it.

You have your own damn problems to worry about. If he needs to tell you something, he can do so just fine. He has lips and a tongue, right?

Hells, your psychic abilities, your foresight, is giving you far more trouble than you ever bargained for. In the past, they were always brief, infrequent, almost always warning you of a danger pertaining to you. Sometimes, they were more random: but they had never been so as they had when you fought that beholder. During the battle, Almost every moment of your time was spent balancing your visions: what the beast's next attack would be. It kept you a step ahead, but you had to stay focused on your present. The one moment your mind wavered from battle, you couldn’t react quickly enough to prevent Lae’zel’s injury. You grabbed her just after the attack, quickly getting her off the battlefield, because her immediate future only got worse. You were distressed: the image of Lae’zel’s limp body in your mind still haunts you, you couldn’t easily spot Astarion in the ruins – not to mention the auras. The world had gotten significantly brighter for you, and it made you…really feel. It was a lot.

“I wonder what he’s thinking about.” Angel’s tone is serious, drawing you back to the present. He lacks his typically playful nature. He’s close to you, as usual, and you aren’t pulling away, which would be futile. You had already accepted Angel, likely due to the nature of his heritage, has no concept of personal space. 

“Astarion’s thoughts aren’t any of your business,” You reply, trying to keep yourself balanced. Even just the mention of Astarion has you feeling pink inside. You shift in the grass, crossing your legs; Angel follows suit, his fingers gripping the grass again, just like the last time you saw him. “Nor are Lae’zel’s.”

“You don’t want to know what Lae’zel was pondering? It was about you and Astarion.” Angel’s words make your gut turn with anxiety, for some reason: what possibly could he mean? 

You need to shake it off. “Don’t you stir things up. Why am I here, Angel?”

“I couldn’t anymore if I tried, girl.” Angel’s serious face is making you feel worse. The two of you are silent for a moment, Angel’s intent stares at you making you feel a little uncomfortable. He’s so prettily gazing at you, his long, black, silken hair pooling around his broad shoulders, making him appear more ethereal than ever. 

“Tav,” Angel asks, breaking the tension between you. “I’ve been thinking about you. When you aren’t around…why is that?” Angel asks, averting his eyes as his voice raises with his question. You feel a little surprised at his words nonetheless. Angel thinks about you when he’s gone. Why? 

“I-I don’t know,” You sigh, your voice exasperated, and Angel looks up at you. His gold and ruby eyes pierce into you, his hand finding yours. Something in his gaze makes you hesitant to pull away, and the intimacy of the act almost feels good: just to hold his hand, which dwarves yours in comparison. Angel has been gentle with you since your ‘kiss’, you note.

“I think about you…”Angel says as his thick fingers intertwined with yours. “I think about you everytime I fuck, Tav. And I’ve been doing a lot of that.”

You have to take a deep breath. You are equally annoyed and turned on at the thought of Angel fucking, and just a little bit curious about where the hells he’s doing all this fucking, and what exactly he’s up to when he’s gone. “This can’t be why you brought me here.”

Angel shifts to his knees, taking both your hands in his. His smile is unnaturally beautiful, perfectly…well, perfect. So symmetrical. His teeth practically sparkle, his eyes crinkling as the smile fails to reach his eyes. You realize how young Angel appears – you would guess thirty in human years. Unsurprisingly, you’re very bad at guessing ages for mortals. To you, they are either fit or feeble. You don’t know how aasimar aging works, but you do wonder just how old Angel really is. 

“Ugh,” Angel says as his face drops almost a second later. He has a grim disposition about him that he can’t hide. “It isn’t in my nature to feel like this, Tav. You won’t even give me the one thing I want, and yet there you are, in my mind, like, ever since we first spoke, making my dick hard and stuff.”

“Angel–“

“It’s like you live there, ya know?” Angel asks rhetorically; he shakes his head before continuing,“I can’t let you touch the sword, Tav.” Angel has just a hint of desperation in his voice, and you can’t tell if he’s trying to hide it or not.  With Angel, every emotion he displays feels genuine and real to you: but you’re aware of his very nature, which is to seduce – you know you can’t trust him entirely.

You pause, your mind lingering on the visions you had about the sword: the more you focus on it, it comes into view – an incredible extension of your power, one you had never experienced before. But you’re hardly seeing a vision of the future, as it’s just a snippet of an image (but the future nonetheless): an ivory sword, a silver hilt, buried in the chest of some old pile of bones, half in the underdark and half in the ruins of Baldur’s Gate. An unknown figure is approaching the sword. 

“It’s so close…” You murmur to yourself. You know something is strange about the object Angel means for you to get him. And he knows it too.

Angel snaps his fingers next to your ear, causing you to whip your head. “You have really bad self control. Has anyone ever told you that?” 

You wince a little. “Yes. Many times.” You set your gaze to the horizon, watching the waves of the beach. Angel’s domain is a sharp contrast to the ruins of Baldur’s Gate, and it makes you eager to get back. “Are you really here to stop me from touching the sword? Would I even be able to refuse you, truly?” 

Angel smiles. “Yes. and I needed to be near you for a moment. You have part of me.” You note he doesn’t answer your question about refusal.

“You’re injured,” You say, trying to decide if you truly care or not.

“And I need to be whole to regenerate quickly. And you do have my eye, which is looking quite dazzling on you, I must say. And, one of my, uh, colleagues,” Angel’s words come out constrained, “told me I wouldn’t be a very good patron if I let you or any of your retinue touch that sword. So I’m here to warn you.”

Angel comes to rest on his side. His skin seems to glisten in the sun, his long hair pooling in the grass. The smirk on his face is seductive, and you know he wants something. But you aren’t going to give him the satisfaction. 

“Aren’t you going to ask me how I got injured?” Angel asks, batting his lashes at you.

You merely shake your head. “How the hells am I supposed to retrieve the sword, then?” You ask incredulously. “Why are you just now telling me this, Angel? What the fuck is wrong with you?”

His eyes widen. “Relax, beautiful~ I got here on time, didn’t I?” Angel pats the grass closer to him, beckoning you to him. His creamy skin is perfectly unblemished, and you can’t help but focus on his strong hands, the veins that bulge as his heart beats. He has no blood scent, no detectable heartbeat, but you know his life essence courses through him.

Angel seductively raises his brow at you, absorbing your thoughts of consumption. Ignore. You have to ignore that pang between your legs. “No, Angel. Just tell me what I need to know.”

Angel frowns, giving a sigh. “You need someone with strong will to wield it, but you can’t let them use it, ‘kay?”

Your eyes are wide as you hold out your hands, urging him to continue. Your profound irritation can’t be ignored.

“Every swing will consume their soul. And I’ve been told the sword is very pleasurable to wield, Tav,” He winks at you here, causing you to roll your eyes. “Whoever has it won’t want to give it away.”

Angel’s eyes darken for a moment. “So it can’t be you. You are not to touch it. Astarion shouldn’t either, it would affect you too much if something happened to him.” 

The way Angel ponders this sends chills down your spine. You knew the minute you accepted Angel’s offer you would become an asset to him. Nonetheless, a pit in your stomach forms as you begin to feel the reality of your servitude sink in – most warlocks have some end point to their contract: their death. You don’t think about your death often, because it’s hardly a possibility for you. But at this moment, you do wonder what it would be like to die: you often thought this when you were still at Moth’s estate, and sometimes, you still do…at least if you had some expiration date, or even a decent chance of actually dying by anything other than a melting sun, you would be free.

“You won’t ever die, Tav. Why are you thinking about that right now? I don’t like it.” Angel sits back up, and before you know it, he’s sitting behind you, his fingers brushing through your hair. His touch is featherlight, as if he means to be gentle with you, fearful of your rejection. His closeness, which could only be perceived by your sight, is beginning to startle you less and less. Still, you hesitate, creating some distance between you two.

“I’m just trying to fix your hair,” Angel’s mood has shifted, likely purposefully, intending to move away from the morbid. 

“Don’t,” You reply, fanning his hand away from you as you turn to face him. You can sense Angel absorbing your mind, particularly since you decided you didn’t give a shit if Angel read your thoughts. 

“You’re…you really are angry with me?” Angel asks, his voice becoming softer, like a child’s. You scoff in reply. You’re cursing Angel in your mind for cursing you: the wretched boon he has given you had nearly driven you mad on the battlefield – not to mention the distracting auras, and Angel’s very presence causing disruptions to your marriage. 

“Of course I’m angry with you. Are you stupid?” You leer at him, standing up; it feels good to you to look down on him. “Don’t answer that. You seem fine now, so take me back to Astarion this instant.”

You’ve wounded him, you can see: Angel brings himself to his full height, sighing as he stretches his arms over his head, brushing off his hurt. 

“Fine, then. Just remember I warned you.” You don’t quite understand what he means until later.

“So if you won’t touch it, and you won’t allow Astarion to touch it, then why should I?” Lae’zel asks, hands on her hips as the four of you make camp. Angel hadn’t yet left, sitting on the ground next to you, while you sat in Astarion’s lap, who exudes such a strong energy, his aura shaping over yours in fluttery pink tendrils. It feels good to be so close, so enveloped: even if his grip felt a little tighter than last he held you.

“I won’t let you get hurt,” You say, and you truly mean this, but Lae’zel isn’t convinced. 

“Why don’t you ask one of your spawn, Astarion?” Angel asks. 

Lae’zel curiously narrows her eyes at Astarion, who shifts you in his lap. Surely, Astarion’s three spawn had better things to do, and had their arms in many things far more important –

Although you have your flaws, there isn’t anything that could stop you from reading the room right now: the way Astarion tenses around you, the way Lae’zel is looking at him…there is something more to Angel’s statement.

“The three are busy, Angel,” You reply. “Aren’t they, my love?” You pull away just enough to look into Astarion’s eyes – his expression is foreign to you.

“I don’t mean those spawn,” Angel’s words cause Astarion to jump out of his seat, still holding you in an arm as he looks down at Angel, hissing and ready to use his claws. His hold on you is tight, pressing your rib cage to his, his hand gripping the back of your neck like a pup.

Angel reacts, putting himself in some offensive stance. “Secrets don’t make friends or obedient wives, Lord Astarion!”

[onthewaytosomewhere]

MELLLLLZ! :) i come with a couple if you don't mind (heheheeh)

first I will take 9-1-1 for 500 plz! <3 #8 Leather Jacket (BuckTommy)

Then RWRB #4 Ducky Tie.... cause come onnnnnnn <3

:) :) :)

alright so my first 911 ficlet is here just for ya becz!!!

Evan Buckley is sure of one thing at this moment: Tommy, in the battered leather jacket he is wearing, is one of the hottest things he has seen. The way it strains across his shoulders, pulling tight across his biceps, open in the front, revealing the very thin tank top he has on underneath, is driving him mad. The chest hair peaking over the front of the tank top makes him want to drag Tommy back to his place and get him out of said clothing. Of course, they have at least another hour before he can do anything even remotely like that. So, in the meantime, he’s sitting out here in Bobby and Athena’s backyard, watching Tommy fit in with everyone. Of course, Tommy knew some of them before Buck ever did, but he can’t get over how well his boyfriend, and god does he love saying that, fits in with his 118-family. He knows they’ve appeared to like some of the women he’s been involved with, but he’s never had the feeling any of them could ever really be a part of all of this. “Buck, if you keep it up, we’ll all be swimming in your drool, and I’d appreciate not dealing with that,” Eddie whispers in his ear, snapping him out of his thoughts. “Haha,” he snaps back, not the most original comeback, of course, but he’s still, a little bit at least, thinking about what is under that leather jacket. Conversation with Eddie and later Christopher as well keeps him from getting too distracted. Still, it’s not long before Tommy is standing in front of him, and Evan is dragging his eyes up his torso, thinking once again about that damn leather jacket and how good it looks on him. At this point, he’s really contemplating making him leave it on while he makes use of his newly-discovered lack of a gag reflex and blow him as soon as he gets him home. Evan has always loved blowjobs but didn’t think that he would be as into giving them as he is receiving them. He remembers hearing women in the past talk about the power trip it can be, making someone fall apart with just your mouth and hands, controlling when and how they get off. He, of course, has never had a problem getting any of the women he’s been with off with his mouth, even been told how talented he is in that regard. When he discovered that talent carries over to his newfound fascination with Tommy’s dick, he finally understood what they all meant. Something about the feel of a hard cock on his tongue as he works to get Tommy off, sometimes getting himself off as well, is one of the most liberating and powerful feelings he’s had regarding sex in a long time. They eventually make their rounds, and Evan gets them to his place; the door is barely closed when he has Tommy against it and is having his way with him. He’s been thinking about this so long he’s not sure how long he’ll be able to make it last. Not nearly as long as he usually does, but he figures that he’ll just remedy that when they eventually get to the bedroom.

and here's the RWRB one too luv 💚

This moment has been in the works for two months now; Martha sees the ties in some magazine and finds out they are available from a Crown-approved Fashion House. She not-so-subtlely drops the idea to Alex, and from there, they roll with it. Alex works his magic to get Henry to wear the tie for the event, and Martha promises to do the same on her end with Philip. Alex prefers not to think about what methods she may employ to make that happen, especially since he knows exactly how he convinced Henry, and it involved a lot of sex and getting him to agree to it in his blissed-out post-coital state. He has grown to love Martha like a sister, a thing that shocks nearly everyone. They discover some common ground, and well, apparently, Martha always wanted to be a big sister, so Alex just figures he got two of them when he got Henry – Martha and Bea. No amount of love he feels for her, however, makes him want to think about her employing any kind of similar methods to what he did. They’re all gathered, and everyone has taken their pictures of Henry and Philip in the matching ties, enjoying the moment of family togetherness before they are required to put on a show. That’s the moment Martha picks to put the part of the plan she didn’t share with Alex into motion. She is apparently not above using her own child to get her way, and Alex has to marvel at how funny it is that he didn’t see this coming. Standing in front of where he sits on the sofa next to Henry is Martha and Philip’s oldest, and she’s looking at Alex with puppy dog eyes that could get him to do anything really. “Uncle Alex,” Martha’s pulled out the big guns, it seems, as she knows how much it gets him when he’s called that. “Mum, got a tie for you too, so you can match Uncle Hen and Dad. Will you wear it?” He glances across at Martha and sees her chatting with Bea, acting as if she’s unaware of what is happening, but the smirk on her lips tells a different story. Alex knows he will end up wearing this ducky tie, so he gracefully accepts his defeat. “Of course I will. Do you think I will look as good as Uncle Hen does?” She leans forward as if she is sharing something secretive she doesn’t want anyone else to hear: “I think you’ll look the best, Uncle Alex, but don’t tell anyone else,” she says with all the solemnity she can manage at just five years old. If Alex hadn’t already made the decision to wear the tie, he knows the way her lip wobbles just a little would have convinced him. The pictures of that day will show all three men in matching ties, talk about how adorable the ties are, and will be great press for the fashion house Martha got them from. The press will talk about mending fences and all kinds of things they really only think they know about, but those ties do help solidify a bond that is already stronger than it ever was. Alex, when he is putting Philip and Martha’s oldest to bed, upon request of the young princess herself, just barely avoids tears when she tells him how much she loves him and that she’s right. He did look the best in the tie.

hope ya like them luv 💚

[average-mako-enjoyer]

peaceful hug/ quiet and serene - any pairing of choice!

Thank you for the ask, friend! ❤️

I was struck by this vision and had to write it. Nothing romantic here, just wholesome stuff.

The game lives here and I still accept requests!

Cyberpunk 2077, V, Johnny and Mom.

It is late morning in Night City, so V is asleep. 

His sleep is so deep that there is a weight to it. The blanket on his shoulders is old and soft, and it smells of dust and sweat and gunpowder. Now it will smell of smoke too, but he doesn't care. 

There's an unfamiliar kind of heat in his body: he's been allowed a few sips of beer, and it's sitting deep inside him, making him glow like the embers he's stirring with the stick – all warm and red. 

His hand moves, his thoughts drift, he's tired and buzzed at the same time, he wants to hop up and run around the camp, but the blanket is heavy, and the starry sky above his head is heavy too, and he's just a twelve-year-old in the middle of it all, so he stirs the embers and sniffs when the smell of burnt wood becomes too overwhelming. 

He doesn't even jump when there's a rustling behind his back, and then his mom says, 

"You still up?"

There's no point in denying the obvious, so he just shrugs and hears his mom sigh. But surprisingly, she doesn't start her scolding routine, but walks over to him and commands,

"Scooch."

He does as he's told and continues to move the stick in the long dead fire. 

"Today was exciting," says mom. "So much loot! You know, I can ask Uncle Jimmy to take you with him to test out all those new Militech guns in the morning..."

"Really?!" he turns sharply to see mom smiling. 

"Uh-huh," she says. "But you know he always gets up early, so..."

"Mooom," he groans. 

"Do you want to go to the range all sleepy and grumpy?"

"No!" is his immediate reaction. It sounds childish. He sniffs and turns back to the campfire. "I just can't sleep." 

"Mmm. Well, I have the perfect remedy for that. C'mere."

Suddenly she grabs him. Her strength and speed shouldn't surprise him, but it still does. He drops his stick and mom pulls him into her lap. 

"Moom!" he squirms, embarrassed, and the old bench creaks beneath them. "I'm not five anymore!"

"Oh, I know that," mom huffs, ruffling his hair and pulling his head onto her shoulder. "Almost as tall as me. Almost a grown man. But you know what? Nobody's too old for cuddles." 

She's right. He is almost as tall as she is, but like this, sitting on her lap wrapped in the blanket, he feels small. Frankly, it’s awkward, but also safe. Good. 

Especially when mom hugs him and starts humming, swaying to the rhythm of the song. 

He knows this one. 

Out in the West Texas town of El Paso

I fell in love with a Mexican girl…

He closes his eyes and buries his nose in her neck. Mom tinkers with cars all the time, so there's always that subtle sweetness of gasoline in the smell of her skin and clothes. 

"Home," he thinks, "smells like home..." 

And wakes up. 

For a brief moment he's still there, in his mother's arms under the starry sky, but then it ends. He's thrown back into Night City.

"You know it's rude to look into other people's memories without asking, right?" Johnny asks. 

Out of the corner of his eye, V sees him hovering over the bed, teeth bared, angry. Always angry about something. 

The thing about dreams like this is that they are out of V's control, they both know that, and they both love to argue about it. And usually V takes the bait, but right now he doesn't want to. He's still filled with serenity. 

"What was her name?" he asks. 

"What's it to you, you fuck?" Johnny snarls. 

V closes his eyes and tries to recal his mother's face, but nothing comes. Even her hair... was it brown like his own or maybe dirty blonde? Did he remember her before he died or was she lost to time even before that? 

"I don't want to forget her," he admits. 

"Shannon," he says finally. "That was her name. She died only a year later."

Johnny falls silent. 

"Shannon," V repeats, and suddenly he sees her again. Short and tan, preserved in the engram like in amber. 

Shannon smiles, and all the weight V carries around–the weight of the blanket, of the starry sky, of his mistakes and losses, of the sadness that fills his every breath–feels a little less. 

He smiles back. 

[sketchyelvenasss]

Wildfire

Read on ao3 or undercut v v

1,277 words

An event from Rhys' life with Lyvius and Dorian while he was 14-15.

'-- you’ve chosen a difficult school.” He ran his hand through Rhys’ ginger hair that had changed about the time his magic manifested. “You need to learn to control your anger, Rhys. If you don’t fall to a demon, you will fall to yourself.” --"

It was a typical day for Rhys. Dorian was at the senate and would be there all day, Lyvius was minding the shop and told Rhys to spend some time for himself. 

Time for himself ment hanging in the back alley behind the shop with his friend smoking. Rhys came down the alley holding the box of his special cigarettes closely to his side. The filling was made of a homeopathic moss, embrum, and elfroot. It created this warm buzz feeling in one's head and under the skin. Rhys couldn’t tell if Gilleon hung with him for him, or for the smokes. Either way the teen was always floating in the general vicinity of the store. The young man had lots of free time on his hands since his only duties were his university classes, and he always managed to finish about an hour after midday.

“I’m probably gonna get in trouble for this one day.” He said as he approached his friend.

Gilleon laughed, pulling his long black hair into a ponytail, before grabbing a cigarette from the box. “If they catch ya’ just say it was the “no good Tevinter boy next door.”

“Like they’d believe me.” Rhys created a small fire in his hand and lit their cigarettes.

“Man, I wish I had magic. I was supposed to be the heir for my family, but here I am 19 and absolutely fucking useless. My parents don’t even talk to me anymore.”

“Sorry, Gil.” Rhys mentally slapped himself in the face. He tried not to use magic around him, normally he’d bring a small alchemy apparatus that would produce a small flame to light up with, but he had forgotten today. 

He felt bad for Gilleon. It was the nature of Tevinter to breed children like dogs and toss them aside when it wasn’t the result they wanted. Even though the loss of Nan was hard, Rhys can hardly imagine how good he has it. If not for Lyvius and Dorian he’d just be a faceless slave somewhere. Or a nameless corpse in the ground. He blew a cloud of smoke in thought.

“You wanna come by the store later? We got some new herbs in. I’m sure Lyvius wouldn’t mind if we tested some of their properties.”

Gil smiled. “Yeah, that sounds good.”

Rhys for the last few weeks had been showing Gilleon alchemy. He was a fast learner. Easily learning the effects of most basic ingredients. Rhys often tried to reassure his friend that he was brilliant, with study and practice he could become a master apothecary. Lyvius agreed and had extended an invitation for Gilleon to apprentice with him. Gil was beyond appreciative, but his parents still expected him to attend classes. On top of that, if they knew he was friends with Rhys they wouldn’t be pleased. He didn’t want to cause more trouble if they found out that an elf was teaching him.

A couple cigarettes later it was about time for Rhys to get back to the shop. He and Gilleon walked down the alley turning onto the main street toward Elvehn Remedies. Even out on the street you could smell it. Mint and tea leaves, or limes and sage, roasted nuts and honey, cinnamon, clove, it was ever changing. The scent was never the same for each person. Everyone left remembering a different smell that made them relaxed and a little happier. For Rhys he always smelt strong notes of rosemary and burning embrum. He had asked Lyvius if it was some kind of magic, but even he didn’t know. It must have been with how old the building was.

Reaching it Rhys noticed that the dark blue door was on its hinges. Immediately he knew something was wrong. He clung to the stucco wall as he cautiously approached. He poked his head around the doorframe and saw a group of five men. They were big, burly, and definitely unwanted. Rhys quickly glanced at Gil mouthing run home before looking back.

At that moment the tallest one wearing a violet cowl snapped his fingers. The four jumped over the counter to grab Lyvius, who tried to defend himself. He was able to send one of them flying into one of the bookshelves. It collapsed on top of the assailant burying him in books. But the other three managed to grab him. Lyvius’ hands sparked, but before he could cast a spell they clapped cuffs on him. They snuffed his magic. 

Rhys grit his teeth, anger burning in his veins. His vision clouded with a red haze. There was no thought, just a spur to act as he dashed into the room. In a blue flash two of the three slavers fell to the ground bleeding profusely from their throats. The third was too shocked to react when Rhys turned on him and pierced his belly with the lyrium blade. The man screamed in agony as the magic melted his flesh, the metal so hot it boiled his blood.  All the slavers needed to go away. For Forever.

“Rhys! That’s enough, he’s dead.” 

Rhys blinked and the haze cleared. Lyvius’ expression was a mix of worry and fear. He could clearly see what he had done and he felt sick to his stomach. As Rhys was doubled over the man with the cowl took the opportunity to grab the boy. The young elf yelped and Lyvius’ eyes went wide. The slaver held his arm with one hand and had a knife to his throat with the other. 

“You’re going to pay for that boy!”

“Please, not my son! I’ll do whatever you want.” Lyvius pleaded.

Rhys hated this. Hated the sad face Lyvius was making, that he was groveling. Hated this man restraining him. So much so he felt the heat in his gut. His skin suddenly caught fire, it didn’t harm him, but it burned his aggressor. The fire spread over his clothes, ate at his flesh and hair. The man begged him to stop, but he couldn’t. He wouldn’t. The fire-- the hate--wouldn’t subside. Rhys felt tears form in his eyes and evaporate off his skin as he watched the man’s form get consumed.

Then he blacked out.

When he came to the smell of rosemary and embrum filled his nostrils, reminding him where he was. He opened his eyes to Lyvius holding his head in his lap, his father’s eyes filled with tears. Gil was beside him, his concerned expression relaxing when Rhys woke.

“Thank Mythal.” He breathed like he’d been holding his breath this whole time. Rhys went to sit up, but Lyvius stopped him. “Don’t… continue resting for now.”

“That wasn’t a dream was it?” 

Lyvius hesitated. 

“No… you’ve chosen a difficult school.” He ran his hand through Rhys’ ginger hair that had changed about the time his magic manifested. “You need to learn to control your anger, Rhys. If you don’t fall to a demon, you will fall to yourself.”

Rhys slowly sat up. The bodies were gone, but the shop was still a mess. Tables overturned, the collapsed bookshelf near the front of the store. Some burnt books and plants caught in Rhys’ fire. The blood on the carpet that they would now have to throw out. 

He looked at his red stained hands and felt tears swell, upset at himself. That was his problem. He took a deep breath.

“I’m sorry.”

Lyvius hugged him. “It’s just something we need to work on. I love you and I am lucky to have you.”

They waited a bit till Rhys regained some of his strength before they started cleaning up the mess.

[byuljoonie]

please give me a remedy. (m) knj. my.

Somehow there are a million people around us and you’re all I can see.

pairing: namjoon x reader x yoongi

genre: smut, angst, fluff, yearning?

pt: 01 | 02 | 03 | 04

word count: 3k+

warnings: thickening plot. give it a chance bcs she’s being polished. slight aggression. slow build up for yearning yoongi. namjoon is a dork in love. slight angst. him or me? friends to lovers. no smut yet.

summary: 2 of your 7 best friends have a secret…

note: sorry about my love for lowercase letters.😅I started this story in 2020 while I was a senior in high school…great plot but the writing?? definite no. older me with more experience as a published author is here to take control. still deeply in love with joon after 9 years so let me yearn in peace. Please feel free to leave feedback, I love constructive criticism and listening to your opinions! word count will increase drastically by chapter 2! have a listen to the playlist in my bio while you read the story! enjoy!

I sat back on the leather couch in the practice room absorbed in the way he looks while dancing. His black hair sticks sparsely to his forehead and his brow is furrowed in concentration. He hits each move perfectly, feeling the music as the song approaches its climax. How could he possibly be this sexy right now? The thought sent my mind into a frenzy of unrealistic fantasies. I would never want to ruin our bond but I can’t help but wonder how his soft hands would feel against my sensitive skin. Namjoon is definitely just my best friend, nothing more…sadly.

We met during my junior year of university and bonded over our love for books and art. Philosophy being my major and his minor, we ended up in the same required logic course to graduate. Our first interaction involved a forgetful Namjoon leaving all of his writing utensils at home, sheepishly tapping my sweater-covered shoulder to borrow a pen.

I'm suddenly pulled out of my reverie when I hear Hoseok loudly complain about being hungry. I was so caught up in my mind that I didn’t notice the song finished. He falls back into a nearby chair with sweat dripping from his forehead, glistening in the yellow-tinted light.

"I'll go grab some food just tell me what you want boys," I said quickly standing up and pulling on Namjoons black hoodie.

"How about I go with you?" Yoongi suggested calmly.

"NO, I mean no I'll go with her since I'm the leader you guys just take a break," Namjoon nervously reassured everyone. I heard Jin and Jimin snicker at his quickness to accompany me. Yoongi shifted unfazed by the younger members’ interception. We’re almost inseparable at times but my smile widens as my heart still flutters for the skilled rapper. Feeling the same as I did when I first met him. I gave Yoongi a small smile but he turned away. I frowned confused by his sudden mood change before we could finish talking.

"Y/N I want chicken," Taehyung said, pulling on the sleeve of my- I mean Namjoons hoodie.

The other boys agreed so Joon and I set off to the nearest open restaurant, hoping to stumble upon a hole in the wall. We walked in comfortable silence the street lights illuminating his honey skin, casting a glow around us. I always felt so safe when I’m with him. I feel safe with all of the members of course, but there’s a special soft spot for Joonie. I guess you could say my slight infatuation has developed into a crush, but nothing more can happen between us. The more being a secret drunken kiss from this past new year celebration.

Thinking about the members causes Yoongi’s face to flash through my mind. He seemed kinda hurt earlier and I should have said something. I don’t want them to think I only care about Namjoon. I love and appreciate all of them, especially Yoongi and Hoseok. Yoongi was the last to warm up to me, but the first to spoil me. His kindness and gummy smile always melt my heart. I turned to Namjoon hoping to spark conversation and ignore my persistent thoughts.

"Namjoon what are you thinking about?" I asked catching him staring off into space.

“Nothing you have to worry about Y/N,” he said dimples making a special appearance as he smiled at me.

I felt a chill run down my spine and the wind blew my hair into my face. I noticed a line of people waiting outside of a restaurant; the bright, neon yellow sign lit up the block with the words "열두시 치킨 집" (12am chicken house).

"Let's go here Joon it's fairly close to the company," I suggested.

"Sure I don't mind pet,” he stated turning away from me, missing his words.

"What?" I questioned with burning cheeks.

"I said yes Y/N let's go before the line gets too long." He stuttered at his slip-up.

I felt my face getting warmer at the pet name. I've never been called that before, I think I like the way it rolls off his tongue. His voice was rough from rapping all night and his eyes glimmered in the moonlight. I felt like a buzzing ball of energy and hormones. I might as well exhibit how many butterflies frequently inhabit my tummy. I was once again snapped out of my redundant fantasy world when Namjoon appeared beside me with 2 bags of food and a soda.

"Come on Y/N it's getting colder and the boys are probably starving,” he said.

"That was fast, did you skip the whole line, Monie?” I asked while trying to keep up with his usual fast stride.

"Maybe,” he said flatly.

I was now laughing at his seriousness all of a sudden. I can’t handle how these men switch moods like they do wardrobe changes. It was so cold at this point I couldn't feel my hands. I shivered and rubbed my hands together, teeth audibly clattering. When we finally made it back to the building I called Taehyung to buzz us back in.

“FINALLY," Hoseok screamed at the top of his lungs startlingly.

The boys gathered around the table which had been placed in the middle of the coffee-colored floor while Joon and I had been gone. I absentmindedly bit into the chicken, dropping crumbs on my new hoodie.

“Y/N seems like hyung's hoodie is looking very comfortable on you,” Jimin said smirking with grease-covered lips. I noticed how he glanced at Jin and Jk, weird but I kept that to myself.

“Matter of fact it's mine now and there's nothing Joonie can do about it," I smirked at Namjoon who seems to be ready to attack.

I was about to stop him when he grabbed my arms and pulled me into him. I was staring into his eyes embarrassingly hard when all of a sudden he-

“AHHHH NAMJOON STOP STOP,” I screamed laughing furiously as his hands tickled my stomach and sides.

“Address me properly Y/N and I'll stop," Namjoon said laughing with the rest of the members.

I didn't want to give in to his sick game but I was almost out of breath. The boys laughed loudly in the background, still enjoying their food.

“FINE FINE NAMJOON SSI NOW STOP,” I screamed giving up on my stubbornness.

"Good girl,” he cooed as he stopped his almost unwanted assault.

I quickly gathered myself off of the floor missing the close contact already, but not forgetting to give the boys the finger in the process. My ears get warmer as Namjoons words echo through my mind.

｡ₓ ू ₒ☆ * ✲୧( ○ ╹ ╹ ○ )୨✲ * ☆ ₒ ु ₓ｡

I start cleaning up the empty chicken boxes. Wiping off the table and pushing it back into a random corner. As I announced my departure Yoongi walked up to me quickly. Almost as if I would disappear in a split second if he didn't grab my arm. I felt goosebumps rise on my skin, but he must have felt them too because he swiftly released my arm. Rubbing the back of his neck slowly.

“Hey can you stop by my studio tomorrow to help me with something, I need a bit of inspiration?" Yoongi questioned.

“Hmmm, sure I'll be here at around 10 if that's okay," I said smiling softly. I gave him a hug and walked out the door before he can even respond. Was I being avoidant because of earlier or am I just tired? I choose to blame it on the array of confusing events and emotions that took place tonight.

“HEY! Y/N let me walk you home!" Namjoon grunted busting through the door.

I nodded and let him catch up to me; pushing my skirt down a little. Fuck. I should have talked to Yoongi, I blew him off just to let Namjoon swoop in and walk me home in light of my circumstances. Maybe I’m thinking too deeply about the situation but hopefully, things will be hashed out during our session later. My apartment wasn't very far from the big hit building so I already saw the convenience store that was placed next door to my place. The wind started blowing harder so we picked up the pace until we reached the door of my place.

"Maybe you should um text the boys to go home so they won't wait on you. Since it's really cold. Do you um want something to drink?" I stuttered out meekly.

“Sure Y/N." He said lowly.

I shivered at the tone of his voice. The way my own name crested my ears like a harmonious symphony, this man can seduce the devil. I walked to the fridge pulling out 2 beers. Trying to calm myself before I walked back. My palms started to sweat and I can hear my heartbeat increase with each step back.

“Here Monie," I said passing him his beer and sitting on the loveseat across from him. I popped mines open staring at the ceiling as I drank.

"Slow down babe you're gonna choke,” he playfully interjected with a grin.

"Make me," I said articulately throwing my pillow at him.

“Why are you sitting so far, there's a better seat right here." He said patting his lap.

My heart started racing again as I nearly choked on my beer. Did I hear him right?

"Ha... Namjoon quit joking around," I said producing a strained laugh.

"Who says I'm joking Y/N hm?" He questioned with his eyebrow quirked. I’m at his mercy and he knows it.

I squirmed in my seat for a second thinking of what made him so bold all of a sudden. I know I talk a big game but I’m already under his spell. He got up and walked towards me for what felt like a millisecond with those long, muscular legs. I was about to say something when a knock on the door interrupted me.

"Uh I-I'll get it," I said jumping up but not failing to nearly trip over my own feet. Very classy I thought to myself.

I open the door in surprise when I come face to face with 6 sleepy Bangtan members. They all shivered in the crisp air, their noses turning red.

"OH MY GOD GET IN HERE I THOUGHT YOU ALL WENT HOME!" I yelled while dragging them into my apartment. I locked the door and stared at them with a look of suspicion laced on my face. Taehyung looks very guilty as he shields himself behind a shorter Hoseok.

"Well, we missed you so much we wanted to have a sleepover with you and WE BROUGHT YOUR FAVORITE SNACKS!" Jungkook said lowly with Jimin chiming in to enthusiastically scream the rest.

"At this point, I'm accustomed to you guys showing up randomly, but a little warning would be nice next time," I said with a small smile, taking the snacks from Jimin.

"HOW COME NAMJOON HYUNG GETS TO STAY BEFORE WE DO!?" Taehyung yelled while running to jump on the couch.

"Because he walked me home and it was cold," I answered calmly. A breviloquent sigh slipped past my lips.

"I CALL DIBS ON WALKING Y/N HOME NEXT TIME!" Yoongi screamed chaotically.

"NO, I DO!" Seokjin said raising his voice.

The boys started arguing and I couldn't help but start laughing. I plopped down next to Namjoon almost sitting in his lap, seems like I missed my chance for that I thought. He must have noticed because he placed his hands on my hips to brace me onto the couch.

He stared into my eyes for what seemed like an eternity until Jimin brought us back to life with a piercing scream. My head snapped up only to see Taehyung picking Jimin up from the ground and shaking him.

"GUYS STOP IT BEFORE YOU BREAK SOMETHING, I will be walking myself home in the future if you don't relax," I admitted angrily.

Taehyung dropped Jimin to the floor with a thud and hung his head low. I stood up and asked Namjoon to come with me to get Blankets and pillows for the boys. Everything continued normally as Jungkook turned on the gaming console to begin his everlasting reign on Overwatch.

I walked down the hall and felt Namjoon's eyes burning holes into my back. We walked up to the closet and I grabbed a hearty amount of comforters and dropped them in front of me. I tried to reach for the pillows on the top shelf, but as I was struggling a strong pair of arms reached over my head and easily pulled me down the mountain of fluff.

"You know I can't help but find you so cute shorty." He said while smirking at my obviously warm face.

"I'm not short, I'm average height!" I said pouting with my arms crossed. He gently laughed and told me to pick up the pillows and go. I could listen to that sound all day.

When we walked back into the living room Yoongi was already asleep on the couch, Taehyung was playing a game with Jungkook, Hoseok, and Jimin emerged in watching the 2 other boys, and Jin was in the kitchen searching for God knows what.

"Here you guys go, I'm gonna head up to my room and inhale the snacks you brought me then sleep," I said while smiling.

“We think you should stay awake with us y/n, " Jin added from the kitchen.

"Let's play truth or dare," Jimin said with a sinister smile etched on his face. Oh no.

｡ₓ ू ₒ☆ * ✲୧( ○ ╹╹ ○ )୨✲ * ☆ ₒ ु ₓ｡

"Okay, truth or dare it is gentlemen. Let the game commence." I said with a light hesitant chuckle.

I sat next to Namjoon by habit. I felt his muscles tense when I sat close, but he relaxed when he felt my hand graze his thigh. The heat radiating from him warmed my skin in a way no has ever made me feel.

A couple of questions went by and it was Jimin's turn to ask. "Y/N truth or dare?" I thought about it for a second. "Truth,” I said rubbing my hands together nervously. "Ugh boring," he groaned. His eyebrows dipped in deep thought. Then he snapped, "I got it. Would you ever date Namjoon Hyung?"

My heart began to palpitate and I could feel the mist growing under my arms. All eyes were on me anticipating the answer to my question. "No, I don't think so. I mean we have a great friendship that I refuse to ruin. I’m not even his type." I mustered out as calmly as I could. The room was silent and the air grew dense around all of us. Namjoon looked visibly upset at Jimin. I shifted uncomfortably, silently begging God to take me right then and there. Why would I say that!? He thinks I’m an idiot I know he does.

"Well, who's next?" Taehyung asked. "ME!" Jungkook said breaking the silence quickly.

The questions continued for another hour before I decided to head to bed. The boys happily did any foolish dare that came to mind. Moments like these really help you cherish your friendships with those around you. A shattering pain erupts from my heart as I think about Namjoon’s mood shift during the rest of the game.

I rubbed my soar eyes before turning over and checking the time. 3 AM beamed in white on my alarm clock. The breeze from my opened window caused a shiver to course through me. I could hear faint voices and cars going along the road. I’ve always loved the sound of common nightlife. I assumed the boys were spread out wildly on my couch and floor. Even though the awkwardness cleared up, I still wanted to punch Jimin in the arm. My thoughts soon traveled to Namjoon and the mixture of surprise and frustration in his eyes when he stared at Jimin intensely. I wanted to know what was going on in his mind and why he seemed so serious earlier. The tricks my mind torture me with started to drive me crazy; I really need to talk to him and finally see if he feels what I feel. This empty yearning feeling can only be filled by my person. He is my person.

I tiptoed to the living room ever so quietly. I was greeted with the interesting sight of the boys wrapped in giant fluffy, white blankets. All of them looked so peaceful as their snores bounced off the walls of the room. I looked for Namjoon and he rested peacefully on the couch. His arms crossed over his broad chest, his lips parted slightly. He looked so beautiful I didn't want to wake him. I stepped over Taehyungs foot to sneak around to the front of the couch. I whispered Namjoon’s name quietly and he let out a half-hearted grumble.

"Joonie wake up, we need to talk please," I whispered one more time before he slowly peeled his almond-shaped eyes open.

"Y/N...what's wrong? Did I do some-"

I placed my manicured finger over my lips in order to hush him. He got quiet and stared at me calmly.

"Come with me," I said grabbing his big hand.

Just the feeling of his fingers entwined with mines made me quiver a little. The blanket slipped from his body as he got up, revealing that he was wearing only short, grey joggers that didn't do much to disguise his bulge. His skin was glowing as he stared at me with dreamlike eyes and his muscles looked so intoxicating that I almost passed out right there. If anything, it made me pull him up the stairs and into my bedroom expeditiously. I closed the door and sat him on the bed. He was staring at me as I stood by the door like a madwoman.

"Y/N why'd you bring me in here? Is everything alright? If this is about earl-"

Before he could finish his sentence I crossed the small space between us and kissed him. I felt him hesitate before he relaxed into the feeling. I perched myself on his lap finally breathing in his scent. He deepened the kiss and started to caress my back.

He lightly grabbed the back of my neck and pulled us apart. "I thought you didn't like me as much as I like you...but I guess you have other plans hmm?" He asked me with a smirk on his face.

"Shut the fuck up and kiss me please," I begged and pushed him so his back was resting on the bed. My knees were placed on either side of his hips, I grinned down at him and then continued my attack on his swollen lips. Not how I ideally imagined our first, non-intoxicated, kiss would be but still worth every second.

I smiled as the cool air graced my face. Legs sprawled out in an entangled mess. Soft shocks circulated through my body as Namjoon gently rubbed my thigh. The buzz of forgotten TV resonates in the back, but now only a mere thought. Cars pass by, honking at whatever they have going on. “A million,” he said. “A million?” I questioned confused at the aimless outburst. He sat up legs crossed pulling me closer away from the opposite side of my bed. “Let’s say there are a million people outside right now. In their own world doing whatever life has destined for them. They go to work, cook, and clean just like we do. Shit, some may even have servants and have never worked a day in their life, but they’re here right now. Just like we are. Somehow there are a million people around us and you’re all I can see y/n.”

｡ₓ ू ₒ☆ * ✲୧( ○ ╹╹ ○ )୨✲ * ☆ ₒ ु ₓ｡

12 pm, I slowly stirred in bed as the sun pierced through my window abruptly breaking my sleep. I felt around for the warm presence of a certain black-haired man but was met with an empty space. I heard a loud yell come from the kitchen and I knew the boys were awake and chatting away. I carefully threw my legs to the side of the bed to quietly get down. I crept to the kitchen entrance trying not to make a sound. I listened to them talk and make bets over if Joon and I fought. I covered my mouth trying not to laugh. Still, in a daze because of this morning's events, I didn't notice Namjoon sneak up behind me.

"Good morning beautiful." He smiled and his dimples appeared on his cheeks. I couldn't help but smile at the sight. He looked so handsome and disheveled in this natural morning state. I delicately covered his face in feather-like kisses before pulling him into another passionate kiss, which he gladly reciprocated. His hands rested on my hips and I wrapped my arms around his masculine shoulders. I felt him smile into the kiss; I giggled on his lips, the lips that said the most erotic things just a few hours before we made it to this point. Suddenly we heard a camera click and the boys screamed exposing the two of us, all giddy and shy in the hallway.

"I KNEW IT, YOU FUCKERS OWE ME 5 THOUSAND WON!" Jimin screamed and threw up a fist of victory in the air.

You all erupted in laughter but what you didn't notice was Yoongi grimacing in the corner.

[drippingheart]

Eyes dark with judgement had been there. Sneers and rumours as frequent as night had been there. The playful pinches to his cheeks and hugs from his parents had stopped with the manifestation of his abilities. Judgement had been there — Humanity's weakness. When the evils of the planet had been pressing on the forefront of his mind, Getō Suguru had been a glorified lover of books and writing where imagination was the limit and controlled at the reader's discretion. Suguru may have been a strange kid, a freak of nature cursed by evil spirits, but if he received excellent marks, no one could deny him that.

Between studying and training his body, it was of no surprise he fit impeccably with the lifestyle of the jujutsu school, regardless of how demanding being a sorcerer truly was. All of Tokyo's international awe was within his grasp, but there was the pressing matter of being better to stay alive . . and there was the presence of his friend who, in just a short amount of time, became quite the fixture in his life. For all the darkness he lived with as a child, Suguru was charismatic and found no difficulty finding friends even when doing the most mundane of things such as grocery shopping.

Gojō Satoru @thehonoredwon was the flame to his moth or the moth to his flame. No, there was nothing outright harmful about their relationship despite its obsessive qualities. Satoru ,who never had a real friend before, was permanently attached to Suguru. Suguru, who felt like an outcast in his small town, found the other teenager's personality abrasive and endearing. If not moths or flames, two planets drawn to each other's orbits. Ieri Shoko had even approached Suguru, and Suguru alone, with implications of something more than platonic. It was a shock, truly. Was it so wrong to want to spend every day with a best friend?

Perhaps a little, but they had precious time ticking away, did they not? No offense was taken, and the onyx haired teenager continued to indulge, guilt free. It was their weekly if not daily routine in between missions; doing whatever if it meant spending time in each other's presence. Suguru had long stopped wasting his breath urging Satoru to study ( he was too damn smart for his own good; he didn't really need it ) and finished his own work. Every word read. Every point written with practiced handwriting.

You have ugly penmanship, Suguru, his mother once told him; Suguru had remedied that. By the time he was finished with two assignments, the teenager flexed his cramped fingers before running them through his loose hair, still damp from his shower. Bangs which he never bothered to alter since he was twelve was tucked behind his ear as his hues widened briefly. Home? That was a thing he didn't talk about often. Suguru started with a little hum then stretched his arms over his head as if doing everything but to tackle the subject.

── ❛ Are you? ❜

Two notebooks and one soft covered book were shut, stacked nicely, and set aside. He twirled his onyx hair around his finger like he was curling it up to put in a bun only to let it fall. Where did his hair tie go? He continued to twirl his hair in a damp bun and releasing it, several times over. Finally, sugilite eyes focused on Satoru's slumped over body as he spoke. He didn't want to make assumptions, but he could only imagine the luxurious amenities and grandiose spread of spring time foots which awaited the prodigal son at his home.

── ❛ I'll just stay here; I don't want to miss the festivals. And . . I don't have any plans of returning home. ❜

Not ever again.

[wiispywitch]

Attack on Titan OC - Sara Weber🩵🦢💐

♡. ToyHou.se | Instagram | AO3

~

Name: Sara Weber

Meaning: Sara- princess (pronounced as S-R-ra); Weber- weaver

Nickname(s): Blondie (by Nathanael), Princess (by Shadis)

Alias (if any): N/A

Age: 16 (850); 20 (854)

Gender: Female

Nationality: Eldian (French descent)

Birthday: October 9th, 834

Birthplace: Stohess District, Wall Rose

Current Residence: Trost District, Wall Rose; Pasture outside of Stohess District 

Sexual Orientation: Bisexual

Relationship Status: Taken, later married

Language(s) spoken: Eldian

Life-Long Dream: To fulfill a purposeful life in helping others 

Goal(s): To expand her knowledge in the medical field, to protect her family, to marry Nathanael and have a family

Like(s): Flowers, cooking, children, helping those in need, long walks in the meadow, visiting the bakery, sewing and embroidery, girl time in the barracks 

Dislike(s): Rainy days, cats, Nathanael and Eren fighting, arrogant people, people who take advantage of others, messes 

Bad Habit(s): Taps her foot when she grows impatient, too nice for her own good, can come off as pompous

Hobbies: Flower-pressing, scrapbooking, horseback riding, embroidery, cooking 

Fear(s): The titans getting inside the walls, losing Nathanael and her friends in the battlefield, ending up alone, Elijah hurting her family, spiders 

Personality: Classy, calm, elegant, humble, enthusiastic, genuine, companionly, moralistic, well-mannered, polite

Favorites(not necessary)-

Food(s): Hazelnut soup, raspberries

Color(s): Light blue

Season(s): Spring

Activities: Reading, embroidery, sword-fighting, horseback-riding

Time of Day: Morning, midday

Extras: Animals- doves; Literature- romance, fantasy; Flower- Iris

Appearance-

Height: 5’3” (160 cm)

Weight: 107 lbs. (49 kg)

Hair style: Curly, pulled back into a bun, falls down past her shoulder

Hair Color: Blonde

Eye Color: Hazel

Skin Tone: Posy-pale

Body Shape/Build: Slightly muscular, slender, small hips, slim figure, pink lips

Birthmarks: N/A

Scar(s): N/A

Other: N/A

Health-

Memory: Normal, no issues

Sight (do you need glasses?): Normal

Mental: She has a fairly calm composure and can keep herself under control even under pressure

Physical: She takes care of her body very well, however she’s not the strongest in her squad

Sleep patterns (how you sleep and how much rest do you get?): She makes sure to have a fairly average sleep schedule. The only times she really breaks this is when she and the girls in the barracks stay up gossiping.

Allergies/Other: She’s allergic to cats. While she tries not to let this be an issue when she moves into the Schuyler household, who own a cat named Agatha, she can’t be near the cat for too long otherwise she will start sneezing and get irritation in her eyes and nose. Dr. Finch provides her with one of his remedies to help her manage her allergy.

Abilities/Statistics (1- lowly skilled, 10- highly skilled and tell why)-

3D Maneuvering Gear: 6/10

Intelligence: 8/10

Martial Arts: 7/10

Battle Skill: 4/10

Agility: 6.6/10

Strategy: 4/10

Teamwork: 9/10

Passion: 8/10

Affiliation: Medic

Former Affiliation: 104th Cadet Corps 

Grad. Rank: 46th

Status (Alive, Missing, etc.): Alive

Relationships-

Parent(s): Michael Weber (father), Elsa Weber (mother)

Sibling(s): N/A

Other Relative(s): Nathanael Schuyler (husband), Alexandria Schuyler (daughter), Miriam Schuyler (mother-in-law), Taylor Schuyler (sister-in-law), Corine Schuyler (sister-in-law), Clovis Schuyler (brother-in-law)

Love Interest: Melody Oglethorpe, Nathanael Schuyler 

Best Friend(s): Melody Oglethorpe, Taylor Schuyler, Hanna Diament

Friend(s): Franz Kefka, Marco Bodt, Mina Caroline, Sasha Blouse, Krista Lenz

Enemy(ies): Titans, Kenny Ackerman, Elijah Kaufman

Hero(es): Dr. Finch

Rival(s): N/A

Quotes:

“I wouldn’t really consider myself a fighter, but I want to help people who have been through enough trouble these five years.”

“Nathanael, just promise me no matter what you'll come back home safe.”

“I don't care if you think I need to keep my mouth shut, you are not going to speak to me in that tone or treat me like I don't have a mind of my own.”

History/Life: Sara Weber is the daughter of Michael and Elsa Weber of Stohess District, two noble doctors of the town. Before the birth of their daughter, Michael worked as a medic within the military, although he never had any first-hand experience and mostly treated the injured soldiers from the various regiments (his highest number of patients being from the Survey Corps). He transferred out to work as the town's doctors as a way to stay closer to home and spend more time with his family. Elsa took time off to become a stay-at-home mom and focus on raising Sara, teaching her how to act as a proper and well-mannered young lady. Sara grew up having a happy childhood and a doting family, but they never spoiled her and taught her how to be humble towards others, hence her caring nature which made her very well-liked among her peers, and she even attracted some admirers. Even as a girl coming from such wealth, Sara never once let her wealth define her. However, as fulfilling as her life was, Sara couldn't help but feel that deep down something was missing; of course, she had everything a girl her age would desire, but deep down she wanted to do something meaningful that was outside of her comfort zone and use it as a way to help those who were less fortunate than her. This was a main factor that led her to sign up for the 104th Cadet Corps to find her purpose. Even if she didn't have a set goal as to why she signed up as of yet, what she did know is she still wanted to help others and this would be a great starting point.

The first few days of her training were rough for a girl of her status. The commandant didn't have high expectations from her given that she was seen as the "pretty rich girl of Stohess.” But it didn't take long for them to see that she was far more than a pretty face and she showed potential to be a great and resourceful soldier. While she wasn’t the most physically strongest cadet, she did prove to be an excellent martial artist and her ability to maneuver the gear was considered above average; there was also her knowledge in the medical field that showed to be useful in the case of an injury on-duty; she would even help out her fellow comrades that were injured during their training. She was very well-liked among her bunkmates and became part of Nathanael Schuyler's friend group—consisting of Sam Dossam, Taylor Schuyler, and her old friend and past crush Mel Oglethorpe—and had even received a few admirers, among them being Mel and Nathanael. Sara and Mel pursued a romantic relationship for a short period of time, and they soon made a mutual understanding that they would remain as friends. Nathanael always had a crush on Sara since the moment he first met eyes with her the day they arrived at the camps, and they would often flirt with each other that it became an on-going joke that they acted like a married couple. They trained together frequently and on their off-days, they would go to town together and use this as an excuse to spend time together. A year into their studies, Nathanael and Sara officially became a couple. Nathanael’s family welcomed her with open arms almost immediately, yet her family wasn't too thrilled about this arrangement since he didn't come from a status of wealth much to Michael's standards. They couldn’t convince Sara otherwise as she didn't care about Nathanael’s status and loved him for him, nor did that stop her from continuing to see him.

Upon graduation, Sara had plans to join the medic squad. Nathanael was unsurprisingly hesitant of this idea as he feared she would be received first-handed to the battlefields, but he still wanted to support his girlfriend’s career. It wasn’t until the battle of Trost and the first-hand experience in what the titans are capable of that Sara changed her mind and backed out because she still desired to have a family and to someday marry Nathanael. She moved to Trost to live with Miriam and the twins, and got a job as a nurse alongside Dr. Finch, a close family friend of the Schuyler family, and helped aid the elderly doctor in tending to sick and injured patients. Sara would use her combat skills to protect her family from attackers, going as far as to shoot them with Miriam's rifle and taking the girls to safety. 

Nathanael and Sara were seen as the perfect couple, and there are times that Nathanael believes that he is not good enough to be with such a noble and charismatic young lady as her, even after his involvement with the Military Police during the uprising. Nathanael and Sara were married after the successful recovery mission of Wall Maria, and not long after they would have their daughter Alexandria. 

For years, Sara wanted nothing more but to have a good life that was fulfilling enough for her. Even though things turned out much different than she was expecting, she was able to achieve her goal of helping many people, and was blessed with a career that she was satisfied with and a beautiful family of her own. In the end, there was nothing more that she could ask for. 

Bonus Facts: 

-Her voice: Japanese- Akiko Yajima (Angela Blanc, Black Butler); English- Mandy Moore (Rapunzel, Tangled)

-Her name is pronounced "s-R-ra"

-She has the scent of lavender.

-She’s a Libra.

-Her alignment is neutral-good.

-In a modern AU, Sara gets a job working in a hospital as a nurse, and is often working alongside Dr. Finch. She is of course married to Nathanael and very close to his family, and they have their daughter Alexandria. She would have a combination of a sporty girly-girl and vintage aesthetic.

-She is inspired by Fleur Delacour from Harry Potter (specifically the book variation)

-She wanted to name her first daughter Catherine after her grandmother but decided to make it her middle name

-Her spirit animal is a swan.

~

OC Profile Credit- AliceCantBeStopped ; Divider- y-vna

[gohealthypro]

10 Home Remedies for Hair Fall You Can Try Today

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[scottishmongol]

I just read a book on the history of witchcraft in Illinois (my new home state). Here are my notes.

Witchcraft is technically a felony in the state of Illinois, but nobody has been charged with it, let alone convicted.

The folk magic tradition in Illinois draws on Anglo, Irish, German, and African-American sources. All of these cultures freely borrowed and exchanged ideas about magic.

As a folkloric figure, the witch represents fear of your neighbor and the breakdown of social bonds. This is the origin of witch hunts as a mass hysteria stemming from the social upheavals of the Early Modern Era. A witch was literally a bad neighbor - it was common for antisocial or argumentative people to be accused of being witches, on the grounds that they were untrustworthy, and one of the ways a witch was supposed to be identified was by their habit of always borrowing things from you. Like, if Frank doesn't return your weedwhacker he might be a witch. Fear of witches came from distrust of your neighbor.

Naturally witches were also scapegoats for natural phenomena - common illnesses or mental disorders were attributed to witches, and if your cow's milk ran out, it may have been because a witch was stealing it (milk-stealing is a common attribute of witches in German folklore - the witch enchants a towel and magically transfers the milk from a cow's udder into the towel, then wrings it out into a bucket.).

Milk-stealing seems like it could be exploitable in a fantasy setting.

A fixture of the witch as a folkloric figure is that she (almost always she) has sold her soul to the Devil. There are a number of familiar tropes - they wrote their names in the Devil's black book, received familiars, formed covens and initiated new witches, and kept spellbooks.

Shapeshifting was one of the powers attributed to witches, as well as bewitching - controlling people and making them behave in unusual ways (manic dancing, speaking in tongues, etc). If a person complained of not feeling rested, it was believed that a witch was transforming them into a horse and riding them at night.

The bezoar (a hairball that forms in the digestive tracts of cattle) was considered instrumental in the working of witchcraft, as was the feather wreath. Finding and destroying these items was one way to break a witches' curse.

Opposite witches we find the witch doctor (also called a witch master, wizard, or hoodoo man). The witch doctor is called on to provide spiritual counsel and magical cures. Witch doctors worked across boundaries of race; it was said that a male witch doctor worked best on female patients and a female witch doctor worked best on male patients.

A selection of cures, counterspells, and folk remedies for your perusal: - to break a witches' curse, heat a piece of iron (such as a pin or nail, especially coffin nails, which had magical properties in general) and drop it into a bowl of milk - amputating the ear of an afflicted animal and nailing it to a tree would cure the animal as well - witches were vulnerable to silver; you could wear silver to ward off black magic, or use a silver bullet to shoot a witch (or the image of a witch; so-called "voodoo dolls" come from the English cunning folk tradition) - spices could ward off a witch; salt, alum powder, red pepper, and tallow were common ingredients - a drop of your blood in your husband's coffee will keep him faithful - to make someone fall in love with you, combine a lock of your hair with a lock of theirs; to make them desire you, use your own pubic hair - human urine was also a common ingredient in certain spells

The fact that there are a number of spells to cause illness or death in others perhaps explains some of the fear of witches; it was known that magic could cause death, you probably knew these spells yourself, maybe you had even tried them against a rival or enemy. So in a way, the witches were real all along.

Driving a nail into someone's footprint would cause them to "walk until they were dead". A lock of their hair could be used to cause madness. Burying their clothes could kill them.

Powdered frogs, salamanders, or snakes were also common ingredients. It was also said that ingesting such powder would cause these animals to manifest inside your body, causing you to vomit snakes or salamanders or feel lizards under your skin.

Consider the case of Carmella Vosella: an Italian-American immigrant accused of witchcraft, she defended herself by claiming that she was a good Christian and that she only used her powers for good. She crafted charms and folk remedies and was identified as a "chaser of devils", an exorcist.

[fragileizywriting]

Chat’s tongue could definitely get in there and wow if he angles it a certain way and puuuuuurrrrrs he ABSOLUTELY could make her squirt and she’s so embarrassed but he’s just on cloud nine

Blanc would totally be feral about staying inside, falling asleep on top of her and just puuuurrrring while still inside all. night.

Maybe Tikki graces her with a “remedy”? Ancient magic birth control or something because as much as she’d LOVE baby chats and ladybugs….she just shouldn’t think too much about it or she’ll accidentally-on-purpose forget to bring it them

hhgnnhmhnnnmmgnnngngnHBNGMGMNNNGNMMMN oh god oh GOD oh god OH GOD

ohhhhhhhHHHGHBGOD

IS IT BAD OF ME TO WANT BLANC TO MOUTHFEED HER THE POTION?? marinette is so embarassed and she’s blushing like crazy but it’s just one more thing that she absolutely adores. he treats her like a doll 24/7. dotes on her (more than usual) treats her like glass/porcelain. spits in her mouth when they’re having sex because he likes seeing her blush.

she can’t do much (if anything) without her attached to his hip. he’s so territorial. and he hates the stupid petticoats she’s wears, much more interested in keeping her naked. even as she tells him it isn’t polite for her not to at least wear the barest of undergarments, he likes her naked and in bed with him. hair spread out on her pillow. red lips and blushing.

he hand feeds her. even though she’s capable of feeding herself, he doesn’t let her touch the dishes they have sent to his room. the moment he’s feeling healthy enough, the roles revert and he’s taking care of her.

telling her and whispering to her how much he would love to have children… he makes a home between her legs for the days he doesn’t revert back to normal. marinette is caught between adoring it and feeling like she’s found heaven.

[walkerballard]

ENT Tips for Managing Seasonal Allergies in New Jersey

Seasonal allergies can make life in New Jersey challenging, particularly during the spring and fall when pollen counts are at their peak. Whether you're dealing with sneezing, congestion, itchy eyes, or a runny nose, these symptoms can significantly affect your daily routine. As an ENT (ear, nose, and throat) specialist in New Jersey, we understand the impact that seasonal allergies can have on your overall well-being. In this article, we'll discuss some practical tips to help manage these allergies effectively and improve your quality of life.

Understanding Seasonal Allergies

Seasonal allergies, also known as hay fever or allergic rhinitis, are a common condition caused by allergens like pollen, mold, or dust mites. In New Jersey, the primary culprits of seasonal allergies are tree, grass, and weed pollens, which are most prevalent in spring and fall. The immune system reacts to these allergens by releasing histamines, leading to symptoms such as sneezing, nasal congestion, and watery eyes. Understanding these triggers is crucial for managing symptoms and preventing flare-ups.

Tips for Managing Seasonal Allergies

One of the most effective ways to control your allergies is by reducing your exposure to allergens. Start by keeping windows closed during high pollen seasons to prevent outdoor allergens from entering your home. Using air purifiers with HEPA filters can also help clear the air indoors. Additionally, it's a good idea to shower and change clothes after spending time outside to remove pollen from your skin and hair.

Medications are another helpful tool in managing allergies. Over-the-counter antihistamines, nasal sprays, and eye drops can provide relief from symptoms. However, it's always advisable to consult an ENT in New Jersey before starting any new medication to ensure it's appropriate for your specific condition. In some cases, your ENT specialist may recommend immunotherapy (allergy shots) if your symptoms are severe and don't respond well to other treatments.

When to See an ENT Specialist

If you find that over-the-counter remedies are not providing sufficient relief, or if your symptoms are interfering with your daily activities, it's time to consult an ENT specialist in New Jersey. An ENT can conduct tests to identify the specific allergens affecting you and develop a personalized treatment plan. In some cases, an ENT may suggest further treatments, such as prescription medications or advanced therapies, to help you manage your allergies more effectively.

Conclusion

While seasonal allergies can be a frustrating part of life in New Jersey, there are many ways to manage and reduce symptoms. By understanding your triggers, taking preventive measures, and consulting with an ENT, you can enjoy a more comfortable allergy season. Always remember that a tailored treatment plan from a qualified ENT New Jersey can make a significant difference in your allergy management.

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Natural treatment of Scalp psoriasis with expertise doctors

If psoriasis affects your scalp, it will develop white, scaly patches that cause itchiness and burning. Most people confuse psoriasis with dandruff. While dandruff might appear intermittently, psoriasis occurs over an extended period and resembles a scaly rash rather than flakes.

Scalp psoriasis causes many complications, such as sleep disruptions, temporary hair loss, skin infections, mental stress, and a dry, itchy scalp.

Using natural remedies to manage and reduce these symptoms is a great way to help. You should consult your dermatologist before trying any home remedies. It is possible that home remedies and natural treatment for psoriasis will not work equally well for everyone. Only a medical expert can help you develop a personalised home treatment for psoriasis that is tailored to suit your condition.

Managing Psoriasis Using Natural Ingredients

1. Aloe vera

Aloe has healing qualities and has been used extensively for a number of skin-related conditions. After extracting the gel from fresh leaves of aloe plants, mix the gel with an essential aroma oil. Then, apply the mix to the affected skin area. Let it stay for 10 to 15 minutes, and then rinse it with a gentle cleanser.

2. Coconut oil

Coconut oil has antibacterial, anti-inflammatory, and antibiotic properties. It can help reduce dryness, infections, and psoriasis. Blend a small quantity of coconut oil with a few drops of tea tree oil. Then, gently massage the mixture on the affected parts of your head. This remedy may be helpful for managing the discomfort caused by the disease. But this is not a permanent solution for psoriasis.

3. Salt bath

In order to alleviate the pain of scalp psoriasis, you need to be aware that prolonged hot water exposure will exacerbate symptoms. But you can find relief if you soak in warm water with Epsom sea salt and then wash off your hair. For this solution, add 1.5 cups of Epsom sea salt to the bath and let it soak for about 15 min. This treatment can relieve itching and dryness by removing the scales. Many individuals with scalp psoriasis found that salt baths were a comfortable and effective home remedy.

4. Turmeric

This herb has several natural uses. Turmeric can reduce psoriasis. It is beneficial to add turmeric to meals or consume it as a food or a supplement.

You can use a combination of prescribed and a natural remedy for scalp psoriasis. This will relieve any discomfort caused by psoriasis while maintaining a healthy scalp. For the most effective treatment, you should seek medical advice. Depending on which type of psoriasis an individual has, the treatment plan will vary. If scalp-psoriasis infection is present, symptoms may include crusting or redness. There may also be warmth, tenderness or warmth. Swollen lymph glands are sometimes seen.

Scalp psoriasis - Treatment Options

Allopathy (conventional medicine) is a more ancient term referring to the use of medication to manage symptoms of psoriasis with the help of a steroidal medication process. While not providing a cure, allopathic treatments can be effective for managing symptoms.

Homeopathy is known as an alternative system of medicine for its gentle, safe, and natural scalp psoriasis treatment. These remedies are individualised based on each person's symptoms and general health. They stimulate the body's own immune system and target the root causes of scalp psoriasis.

This helps regulate the immunity response, which then slows down the rapid multiplication of skin cells. Scalp psoriasis sufferers will notice a marked improvement, with the redness and inflammation on their scalps reduced. These remedies are also effective in controlling the spread of psoriatic plaques. In addition, these remedies can manage the itching, stinging, and associated hair fall on the head in a personalized and comprehensive way.