#rose water benefits for skin

[glow-getter-gazette]

10 Amazing Benefits of Rose Water For Skin

Rose water has been a beauty secret for centuries, cherished for its delicate fragrance and remarkable benefits. But what exactly is rose water.

[foldingfittedsheets]

Before my beloved and I moved in together they were living with roommates in a place that didn't have a bathtub. Now, a reasonable person might conclude from this that baths would be out of the equation in a home with only one standing shower and no tub.

But these people weren't quitters. Naturopathic doctors and acupuncturists they were dedicated to treating their bodies well and one of the ways they liked to do that was hydrotherapy. Most people are familiar with this through things like polar bear plunges. You sit in a hot tub then jump in freezing water.

It's supposedly good for you and they were way into it. But again, no tub. They'd do hydro showers but it just wasn't the same. These people were not quitters, though. (One of them is the boob soap person, so it really isn't a surprise that she goes hard on everything). So they got what looked like two big metal old timey tubs but which were actually animal food troughs and set them up in the garage. They set up a water heater and god knows how they emptied the tub after, I think there was hoses involved? A pump maybe? I honestly can't remember. Anyway! Voila, hydrotherapy on demand.

I was not aware of this. So when I came over after a long day and my beloved said we should take a bath I was extremely puzzled. I only knew about the one shower. They showed me the garage tubs. I did want a bath and I wasn't really sure about the setup, but honestly I'll try anything once if only for the story, so I agreed.

Fun fact about me though. I haaaate being cold. I've been 0% body fat most of my life with skin barely keeping my bones enclosed. I'm always cold. My favorite activity at the time was sitting directly in front of space heaters. My shower temperatures turn me lobster red and make my beloved cringe. Willingly dunking myself into cold water is the antipathy of my entire deal.

On the night in question I happily submerged into the warm tank, pleasantly surprised by the big silly improvised tub. Which again was meant for livestock. My knees bumped companionably against my beloved as we soaked in the hot water. After a while they rose to go into the cold water. "You don't have to," they told me.

But I was haunted. I wouldn't be doing hydro if I just stayed in the warm tub. Maybe hydro was amazing. It has all these health benefits. I desperately didn't want to but I stood up with them. We were having this nice intimate evening in the garage, just us, I felt safe. I was gonna do it.

They stepped easily into the cold tub, dunking matter of factly into the frigid water. I went to step. I did. I really really tried. My foot went in and I started shrieking, my progress arrested by the total state of shock I entered when my warm toasty foot hit that smug arctic water tension. My beloved started laughing as my pitch ascended the deeper my foot went into the cold water.

I started loudly narrating my discomfort as my foot touched the bottom and I willed my other foot up to join it. "THIS IS VERY COLD," I yelled, "IT'S SO COLD I THINK I MIGHT DIE HOW ARE YOU JUST CASUALLY SITTING IN THIS FREEZING COLD WATER?! I'M DYING- I THINK I'M DYING! I'M DYING BUT WE'RE HERE, TOGETHER! I CAN DO THIS! I CAN DO THESE EVEN THOUGH IT'S SO COLD ALL MY MOLECULES HAVE COMPRESSED INTO A SOLID STATE!"

I ended up with both feet planted in the cold tub, water up to my shins, bellowing and panting while my beloved laughed so hard they couldn't breathe. I hunkered over the cold water, squatting like a frozen gargoyle.

My beloved was trying to psyche me up while I willed my body to obey me. In a sudden jerky drop like a puppet whose strings have been cut I plummeted my body into the cold and let out a shriek that I’m sure could have shattered glass and then leapt up out of the water at a speed relative to a rocket achieving space flight. I didn’t like it.

When we got back inside my beloved's roommates were collapsed on the ground with tears in the their eyes from how hard they'd been laughing. They and probably every neighbor down the block had heard my pterodactyl screeching and narration because the garage was not remotely soundproof.

[majorworlddelhi]

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[beauty-service]

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[starkeyisthelastname]

Rafe w plus-sized/chubby reader, pretty pleeeease??

“Them stretch marks im nuttin all over.”

You read the text message over and over again. Your bottom lip caught between your teeth as you sat down on the edge of your bed. The way the heat was rushing to your core in such a fast manner, had you concerned. No man had ever made you feel this way especially a man this gorgeous. His name was Rafe and you had met him on Tinder of all places.

You had been in so many failed relationships that you were done trying, but of course there was only so long you could go with just using your rose toy. And while that little thing was amazing, you did miss the feeling of sex. Signing up for Tinder, you promised yourself that you were not looking for a relationship and merely only wanted to see if you could find a potential friends with benefits. You had never had one, always falling into these too quickly.

You weren’t exactly confident, your weight always getting in the way. Something you had struggled with as long as you could remember. You had a tummy, rolls, stretch marks, your face always being too round. You hated the fact men turned you away when asking for a picture of your body.

Rafe was muscular with light tan skin and gorgeous blue eyes. His profile read that he was 6’2, he worked at his dad’s business and he was looking for something causal. You thought you had nothing to lose and swiped right on his profile, not thinking anything of it. You were sure he wouldn’t give you the time of day.

You had just gotten out of the shower when you saw the notification.

You matched with Rafe!

Rafe sent you a message

Matched? You were in shock as you opened up the message hoping it wouldn’t scare him off that you were messaging him back so quickly. The two of you started off casual, making small conversation to learn a little about one another even exchanging numbers. It then led to being flirtatious, him causing your pussy to feel butterflies. He asked what you liked in bed, your turn ons, what made you feel good. When he asked for a picture of your body, you immediately got anxious. Normally you’d block the guy no matter how hot they were.

Sending him a full body picture of you and explaining that you had stretch marks, and cellulite and weren’t skinny by any means. You sat on the edge of your bed nervously. It took him a minute to reply, making you wonder if he got grossed out. But as soon as that text message came in, your eyes widened. Reading it over and over, you didn’t know how to reply.

Your phone dinged again, this time with an address. Was this really going to happen? As nervous as you were, you found yourself typing back a response.

“You want me to come over?” You bit your lip, waiting for a response. The typing bubbles appeared, only to disappear a few seconds after. Your phone buzzed in your hand, a video now having been sent from his end. You took a deep breath, clicking the play button where it turned to full screen. Your eyes widened as the camera focused on his grey sweatpants, the clear outline of a huge dick now in the frame. You instantly felt the ache run straight to your core, wanting to see more of it.

“What do you think? Let me put this in you, pretty girl.” The message below the video said.

You rang the doorbell, nervously rocking on your heels as you waited. This wasn't the best idea you had ever had. He could be a crazy person for all you knew. The house was rather dark and you didn't see much movement. You pulled out your phone to start to text him when you heard the sound of a door being opened.

You looked up to see him standing there. He was tall, his profile height being right. His eyes were the bluest shade you had ever seen, staring at you with the sexiest smirk. He was shirtless, toned abs making your mouth water as you couldn't help but glance at him.

“Hi.” You squeaked nervously.

“Hey.” His voice deep, making you want to cum right then and there. You swallowed the lump in your throat, stepping in the house as he opened the door wider. You looked around, the house neat with neutral colors. He cleared his throat, walking past you towards the living room. “Let me turn this off real quick and we will go upstairs.” He said, grabbing the remote and turning the tv off.

He led you up the stairs and down the hall to what you presumed to be his bedroom. It was surprisingly clean, and smelled of cedar and his cologne. He shut the door, walking past you to sit on the edge of the bed. You sat your purse down on the end of the dresser, hands folding in front of you in nerves.

“Come here.” He rasped out, eyes raking over you as you stepped closer to him. He roughly grabbed your hips to pull you between his legs, hand running down to grip your ass. “Don’t be shy with me. Alright? You’re fucking beautiful.” He said.

You had never felt or seen a dick so big. Your head hung down, flushed cheek pressed into the mattress as Rafe pounded you from behind. This position was almost too much for you, making you grab the sheets to almost pull away.

“Where you going, huh? Don’t start fucking runnin from me.” His voice about the sexiest thing you had ever heard. You felt his large hand come to your head, yanking your hair back in a tight fist. You let out a loud moan, eyes rolling back as he forced you to look up at him.

“Open your fucking mouth.” Rafe spat, gripping your jaw to force apart. You did exactly as you were told, not having much of a choice as he spit directly onto your tongue. You felt completely degraded, exactly one of your kinks you told him you had. He was not playing around with you, and the chokehold this man had you on was crazy.

He chuckled, leaning down to capture your tongue with his in a messy kiss, your poor cunt being drilled by his massive length at a constant pace. You whined against his mouth, pussy clenching around his cock as you already began to squirt against him and the sheets below.

“Shit.. you like ruining my sheets and shit?” His voice hoarse, reaching down to slap your thick ass cheek roughly.

All you could do was nod, head pounding from the still tight grip on your hair. You had completely came undone in just a short amount of time. The insecurities you had felt before had disappeared for the time being, Rafe worshipping your curves by fucking you exactly how you had wanted.

[theambitiouswoman]

Don’t wash your face with water in the morning—

it strips your skin of its natural oils & leaves it feeling dry & unbalanced. Instead use rose water. Cleansing with rose water helps refresh & hydrate your skin without disrupting its natural moisture barrier & gives you a radiant glow✨

Benefits:

• Hydrates & refreshes the skin

• Reduces redness & irritation

• Balances the skin’s natural oils

• Helps tighten pores

• Soothes acne & inflammation

• Contains antioxidants

• Calms & rejuvenates tired skin

• Acts as a natural toner

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

Crewel-sensei…do you wear that fur coat even in hot weather? How do you not die of heatstroke…

We were robbed (ROBBED, I say) of spring/summer and winter variants of the NRC uniforms :((

If he doesn’t scare you, no evil thing will.

The classroom was sweltering, having been steadily heated by the sunshine that fed in through open windows. (Crowley had bemoaned the costs of air conditioning, then insisted that the school “conserve energy”.) An errant spring breeze was the only hope one had for relief.

Today, there was no such luck.

Crewel had shucked his fur coat off, using his chair like a coat rack to suspend it. He looked less intimidating without the extra bulk—just a handsome older man in a suit, grading tests at his desk.

He snorted, fanning himself with a few papers. “Then I would be a fool with a death wish.”

Crewel had rolled up his sleeves, revealing a rare glimpse of his forearms, sticky with sweat. His tie had been loosened and now draped like a lazy snake around his neck. His dress shirt, unbuttoned—one or two, nothing too scandalous for a school.

He reminded you of a defeated dog, damp and deflated by the oppressive heat.

“The laboratories are even worse off,” Crewel groused, wrestling with his collar. He flapped it aggressively, trying to get some cool air circulating to his skin. “With the cauldrons boiling all day! You pups cannot pay attention to the lesson.”

��Yeah, it’s pretty bad,” you agreed sympathetically.

Us students are only in there for an hour, tops. Crewel-sensei is stuck there for most of the day to instruct each section…

“Is there anything I can do to help?” you offered. “Like, get you a glass of cold water or something?”

He gave a bitter laugh. “I appreciate the sentiment, but you’ll find that I can handle myself.

Crewel glanced at the clock. He shuffled his papers together and rose, grasping his fur coat off of his chair.

“I have a meeting scheduled with the headmaster to discuss the implementation of uniforms more fitting for the season—and this nonsense about ‘saving money on the air conditioning’… I will sort him out. It would benefit students and staff alike to invest in these measures.”

“Good luck trying to get Crowley to do anything. I’ve tried, and it usually doesn’t go well.”

“Hmph, we’ll see about that.” Crewel’s smile was brimming with challenge. “I have my ways of getting what I want… and the headmaster is, or course, a man who would not dare to work against the interests of those under his care.”

Sounds like an argument is about to break out in the teacher’s lounge. Crowley is stubborn, but Crewel-sensei is the type to fight fiercely for what he believes in.

For students and staff alike, he had said.

The thought soothed you as you watched him depart. His sweat-soaked back half obscured by a cloak of fur—it was the cape worn by an unsung hero.

[bloofinntoona]

Operation Saving Sallow

Word Count: 2.4 k

Themes: fluffy fluff fluff, Sebastian Sallow x f!reader, featuring the lovely friends you made along the HL games

Summary: A girl gave Seb candies laced with love potion. You were rightfully jealous. Your friends were there to help you solve the case.

A splash of water hit your face, small drops of water dripped down onto the sink, echoing through the empty bathroom. The old cloudy mirror in front you showed the absolute sorry state that you were currently in – hair tied up in a messy ponytail, lips chapped from the lack of hydration, the ends of your school robe muddy from being dragged through your journey around the highland. You smacked your cheeks a couple times, causing the skin to break into a rose-colored hue. It was a trick you read in a beauty book your mom owned back in London. Biting your lips, you wished it would somewhat create a red tint, hoping it would make your face appear livelier. Two students barged through the door, pulling you away from your thoughts. Shaking your head, you made your way to the Divination class.

You didn’t care about your appearance before, to be quite honest. Often times you ran around the school with gears that you found in a treasure chest somewhere deep in caves. There were nobody to impress anyway, you found prioritizing about your defensive capabilities benefited you more anyways. Things did slowly change when you took an interest to the infamous Sebastian Sallow. You thought of him as friends at first. He was an outgoing person and a notorious flirt, so you didn’t think much about the brunette. However, the constant owls you receive -- noting invitations to explore the forest and mines, Sebastian showing you the Undercroft where no one else other than Ominis knew, and going so far as introducing you to Anne, you couldn’t help but think that there were something quite special between the two of you. “I like when you put your hair up,” he said once during your study period in the library. From that point onward, you took a little bit of time in a morning to tie your hair, either in a ponytail or a bun.

Sitting down on one of the chairs in the Divination Classroom, you stared at the circular glass in front of you. A slew of students shuffled into the classroom, one of them is the popular Ravenclaw student, Emma Ainsley. Emma was probably the most beautiful girl you’ve ever seen in the school, soft long blonde hair naturally swayed behind her, cute button nose, and a pair of beautiful deep-blue eyes. She was holding a boy’s hand, and it was none other than Sebastian. They were giggling about something, the students stared at them, whispering gossips and snickering to each other. You blankly stared at the orb in front of you, wishing that the glass would absorb you in and let you disappear.

“Well, that is not a sight you expect.” Natty took the seat next to you, setting her books down.

“Y/N, you look pale. Are you alright?” said Poppy, also taking her seat on the other side. Natty stared at the Hufflepuff, widening her eyes. Poppy shrugged and offered you a Chocolate Frog. “Do you want one?”

You flashed a weak smile before glancing at Sebastian again, now sitting together next to Emma. Merlin, You were convinced someone switched places with the boy overnight. The first thing that he would do before class started was to greet you, teasing you about missing assignments. You swore you never saw him talk to Emma before. It’s obvious that a boy his age most likely would develop a crush on someone, but you rightfully were taken aback when he confessed his infatuation with the Ravenclaw. Maybe, deep down, you wished you were in her position instead.

You let out a huge sigh, cueing Poppy to give you a tender pat on your back.

Lunchtime was not particularly appetizing that day. You toyed with the food on your plate, occasionally picking the grilled chicken and popping a bite in your mouth.

“That is it, I will press even if you don’t want to talk about it.” Natty faced you, arms crossed in front of her, “I cannot stand seeing you mope around the entire day.”

“We all know it’s Sebastian, right?” Poppy chimed in, taking a swing of pumpkin juice.

You covered your face with your hands, not wanting to see your friends concerned gaze. You sighed, again. You admitted, “Yes, it is Sebastian. I am at my wit’s end, I have no idea what happened and out of nowhere he is head over heal in love with Emma!” You quickly added, “It’s not like I’m jealous or anything… I just wished he would tell me before making a move on someone. I thought I’m one of his closest friend!”

“Oh, trust me, I’m lost too.” You heard a male voice behind you. Quickly, you whipped your head around to find Ominis looming over. The point of his wand glowing red.

“Ominis!” you exclaimed, “I thought you’d know something about this!” You scootched over, guiding the blonde boy to sit down next to you.

“Honestly, he woke up and all he talks about is Emma this, Emma that. I swear I was this close from pushing him out from the window.” He huffed.

“But that doesn’t make any sense,” Natty’s eyebrows twisted in confusion, “You can’t just love someone out of nowhere.”

The group was startled when they heard footsteps closing in in front of them. It was the man of the hour, Sebastian, with Emma clutching his arm. “Hey, this a good day, isn’t it? Shall we take a walk to Hogsmead later?” He grins. “But Sebbie, you promised that we would go together!” Emma pursued her lips and clinged on him harder. You had to muster your whole strength to not cringe from the scene in front of you, while Ominis visibly gagged from the scene. “Sorry mates, we’ll hang out later, yeah? I need to accompany my dear Em-em.” He cheered as they took a spot at the far side of the room.

“I think I ought to be sick.” You banged your head to the table.

“Count me in too. Just tell me when and I will gladly smack them both with my broom.” Imelda Reyes chimed in. Imelda and Samantha Dale popped in and joined the table. Samantha added, “But I think I know what happened.”

The group hurdled together, lowering their voices.

“Poppy and Ominis, do you remember what we brew during the potion class couple days ago?” Samantha questioned, eyeing her two classmates.

You could sense a lightbulb turned on in Ominis’ mind, “Amortentia!” he shouted, immediately being shushed by Natty, “The love potion! That’s it! I remember I saw chocolate candy wrappings on his bedside table last night.”

“Ohoho, seems like our own so-called Slytherin finest is getting the poisoned!” Imelda cracked out a cheeky snicker.

You let out a relived sigh. By this point, your feelings had beaten your rational thoughts. Yes, you were beyond jealous to see another girl putting her hands all over Sebastian. And yes, you had taken a keen interest in Sebastian Sallow. You’d hate to admit it, but you can feel the whole group knew about it already – judging by the way they immediately shot you coy smiles.

“Now you don’t have to worry again, my friend.” Natty giggled, wrapping her arm around your shoulder, hugging you close.

“W-worry about what?” You blinked, a nervous smile plastered on your face.

“All right now, we’ll deal with this together.” uttered Samantha, “We got your back, Y/N.”

“Okay team, the rundown of Operation Saving Sebastian as follows,” Imelda proudly proclaimed as Ominis groaned, earning a smack from the girl, “Ominis and I will find the candy wrapper and report it to Professor Sharp. Samantha and Poppy will distract Emma away from Sebastian. Natty and Y/N, you will ask Sebastian for a duel and knock him out.”

“Do we really need to knock him out?” you questioned.

“Well, it does say on my notes that a good night sleep is the best way to significantly reduce the potion’s effects…” Samantha shrugged, followed by the team. You felt bad, it’s like the group collectively agreed that Sebastian’s a bit of a knobhead.

You heard Samantha and Poppy were able to convince Emma that they need to tend the mooncalves after the Magical Beast Class. Poppy did earlier rambled on about how one of thee female mooncalves was pregnant and need extra care.

Both you and Natty found Sebastian sitting in front of the fountain at the Transfiguration courtyard, smiling while looking at the sun. You heard him muttering about how the sky was as bright as Emma’s eyes. “Hey there, Sebastian.” You approached the love-stricken boy, “I’d thought it’s been a while since we went on a duel. Care to indulge me and Natty?”

“Well, I was waiting for Emma, but a duel does sound enticing.” He nodded as he followed the two girls. You mentally facepalmed – even a love potion didn’t stop this boy from his obsession with duelling challenges. Natty also gave you a look, this is the boy you have a crush on?

Lucan, as usual, was elated that Sebastian, Natty, and you were up for a duel. After all, the three students were the top of the club. It didn’t take long until a small crowd of students gathered around the duelling courtyard. You stood next to Natty, as Sebastian took his stance at the opposite side.

“Too scared to face me alone, eh?” He taunted, starting the duel with a basic cast aimed to you. You rolled your eyes and casted Protego and Stupefy followed after. Sebastian dodged the spell before being lifted up by Natty’s Levioso. You casted another rounds of basic casts before he dropped down, immediately casting a Depulso to Natty, pushing her back.

“I wished Emma can see me win!” Sebastian shouted.

That was it, the nail on the coffin. You swore you would take this lightly, “Just knock him out a bit.” You heard Samantha’s voice in your head. Yet, this whole day was frustrating enough for you. Using your ancient magic prowess, you lifted a small box and hurled it to Sebastian, hitting it against his head. The crowd went oooh! as Sebastian was rendered unconscious, comically slamming his body down on the floor, limbs sprawled everywhere.

Lucan immediately rushed to the Slytherin boy, “The winners are Natty and Y/N!” he shouted, “… and somebody should bring Seb to the hospital wing!”

“We’ll do it, Lucan, thank you.” You shuffled closer to the body on the floor, hoisting him on your shoulder. Natty joined you in a jiffy, grabbing Sebastian’s other arm around her shoulders.

“You didn’t need to go that far!” Natty whispered, although you saw her fighting a smile.

“That’s what he get for breaking my heart.” You both laughed as you travelled to the hospital wing.

You laid down Sebastian on an empty cot, explaining to the nurse that it was a duelling mishap. The nurse shook her head and mumbled about getting us a detention. You couldn’t care less, at least now the plan is almost done.

“Sebbie! What have these two brutes done to you?” You and Natty tensed as you heard Emma burst through the doors, running towards Sebastian, “Oh my dear, I am here for you!”

Emma looked at you. If looks could kill, you’d be dead by now. “Why are you here? Move aside, I’m his girlfriend!”

You stuttered, “W-well, I’m his… friend.” You felt very stupid right now.

Just before Emma could utter other word, you heard several footsteps approaching the cot. Professor Sharp stood over the cot, presenting the candy wrapper to Emma. “Care to explain what this is?” He questioned. Ominis, Imelda, Samantha, and Poppy followed after, curious about how the story unfolded, you’d wager.

“I-it’s, uh.. I-“ Emma jumbled her words, trying to salvage the situation she was in.

“Save it, Ms. Ainsley, I shall see you in detention this evening. I shall also deduct some points from Ravenclaw.” Professor Sharp shook his head, “I’m very disappointed in you.” Emma ran out of the hospital, wailing.

Suddenly, you felt a hand squeezed yours. Sebastian groaned loudly, blinking a few times in confusion. “Why is everyone here?” He looked around, “Why am I in the hospital wing? Did something happen? Ouch!” The boy yelped as he felt a tender spot on his forehead. You shrugged and gave him an apologetic look.

“Mr. Sallow, do you recognize this?” Professor Sharp placed the candy wrapper on Sebastian hands. The brunette inspected it and muttered, “Yes, Emma Ainsley gave some candies. Said she got extra from Hogsmead. I remember they tasted weird though…”

Everybody was silent as Sebastian glanced over the candy, and then to Professor Sharp. “Oh,” the wires in his head were now connected, “was it laced with Amortentia?”

“Ten points for Slytherin.” Professor Sharp said sarcastically, “ I can’t believe I should tell you fifth years to not eat candies from strangers,” he sighed, “although, I suppose getting one unconscious is the best way to minimize the effects, yet I don’t see the need to bruise the person.”

“Sorry…” you squeezed Sebastian’s hand back.

“Well, I shall leave you all to it.” said the Professor as he walked away from the room.

“You owe us!” Imelda laughed -- The group collectively nodded.

“I think the true lovebirds need some time alone, I’d say.” Natty voiced her friends’ thoughts. They giggled, leaving Sebastian and you alone. You flashed a smile to the group, making a mental note to treat them butterbeer sometime in the future.

You grabbed a hot towel next to the cot, pressing it against Sebastian’s forehead. He winced, “Care to explain this?”

“Natty and I bested you on a duel and… I accidentally used my ancient magic, hitting you with a box?” you grinned, “I’m sorry, I was taken over by my emotions.”

“Emotions?” Sebastian smirked, “What do you mean?”

Your face was as red as a tomato at this point, “Nothing, forget about it!” you were about to get up before he held onto your robes.

“You injured me, I think you owe me an explanation still.” He smiled widely, probably enjoyed seeing you flustered like this.

You bit your lower lip, murmuring, “Do you actually have special feelings for Emma?”

Sebastian faked a gasp, “Perhaps I sense a jealousy?” You glared at him, earning a laugh from the boy, “No, I do not have feelings for her.”

You looked away, lips forming a huge smile. The two sat there for a while, hands intertwined. Sebastian’s thumb stroking your fingers. “So..” he broke the silence, “I believe a compensation is in order for bruising my head.”

You sighed as you leaned forward, planting a gentle kiss on the red spot. You guess Sebastian wasn’t expecting it, seeing how red his face became.

Maybe the days ahead wouldn’t be so bad after all.

[seancekitsch]

I got this in that NSFW prompt generator you reblogged and this would be a PERFECT part 2 to that one Lucifer fic you posted!

Setting: Art Gallery/Studio Genre: Fluff  Trope: Friends With Benefits  Prompt: Truth or Dare Kink: Finger-fucking (as preparation, foreplay, accompaniment, or main act)

“You know,” you start, dipping your brush into the water cup to clean it, “Angel does not believe we didn’t fuck in here.”

You’re not exactly sure why you’re bringing this up right now. Maybe to get a rise out of him? Lucifer blushes, mission accomplished; dips his own brush in a brilliant gold paint. He chuckles, shaking his head as he presses brush to canvas.

“I mean we sort of…” He trails off, his free hand gesturing between the two of you. 

You laugh as you dry your brush.

“Not really,” you scrunch up your nose as you pick your next color, “I wouldn’t count it yet.”

Lucifer shrugs, leaning on you as he does and not at all caring if he makes a mess with your brush dangerously close to all of the paints. 

“When you’ve been single for almost a decade and a recluse for almost a century, it counts,” he winks, “Trust me.”

You feel your own cheeks heat up, averting your gaze from his. 

And no matter how much you want to put brush to canvas again you can’t help but think of nothing but the other week. 

Your body pinned against some tarp in the dark corner of the studio, Lucifer above you, stolen kisses while the sun rose. His clothed cock pressed against you, the friction between your bodies divine enough for you to understand how the first women fell to him. All shuddered gasps, fumbling hands, breathy laughs, and clumsy lips. 

“Okay,” you concede, and now press your brush down in an almost shy stroke to the canvas. Lucifer seems satisfied with this, and you paint in easy silence again. Strokes and dots dance from your tools, Lucifer’s hands working just as carefully on his own. You pause to glance at his canvas, now the makings of what you can clearly tell are a duck now starting to take form. For someone much more accustomed to sculpting, he isn’t half bad with your tools. Maybe one day you’ll hang some of his work in here, you think, or even better have it decorate the hotel. 

Your eyes trail from the canvas inevitably to his hands, deft and skilled, up his arms to his face, where you expect to see him handsome and locked in concentration. Only, you find his eyes staring back into your own. 

“Wanna tell me what you were thinking about?” he asks, flirty confidence he doesn’t normally show on full display. 

“Hmmm,” you hum, and then shake your head, “Nope.”

He narrows his eyes at you, glaring playfully. Lucifer isn’t clueless, even if you’d like to play innocent. 

He steps away from his canvas, looking between his and yours for a moment. 

“You sure you don’t wanna tell me?” he asks, eyeing you up as well now. You scrunch your nose as you shake your head. 

Lucifer only laughs. 

“Okay, truth or dare?”

You fucking scoff. 

“Truth or dare? Really?” you laugh, but not at him, not mockingly, “Did Charlie teach you that? Maybe after she made sure we got paired up the other week?”

You couldn’t help the playful jab. The Morningstars suck so hard at lying that it’s endearing.

His cheeks and the tips of his ears go red again. 

“You didn’t say no,” he reminds you, and damn, no you did not. You roll your eyes. 

Fine. 

You cross your arms indignantly. 

“Dare.”

You won’t give him the satisfaction of truth just yet. 

“Kiss me?” he asks, earnest. Your lips break from their smirk to a genuine smile, and then you lean forward until your lips capture his, chaste and warm. Your lips press around his bottom lip, sucking it in until your teeth graze skin, teasing and tantalizing before you pull back again. When you part, you lick your lips, savoring the taste of him, almost reluctant to open your eyes and let the moment fade away. 

When you do finally open your eyes, Lucifer’s gaze takes you in with nothing but affection, nothing but sweetness and joy. Really, how the fuck is a man like this the devil? And if he’s evil incarnate, what the hell is Heaven like? 

“That was an easy one,” you tease him; You’d kiss him all night if only he’d ask. 

“It’s your turn,” he tells you, a smirk gracing his own lips as he lets his hand ghost over your hip. Bold move, Lucifer. 

“Truth or Dare?” you ask immediately, not having a truth or a dare lined up in the barrel or the chamber. 

Lucifer takes the time to take a step forward, fully removing the gap between you. 

“Truth,” he whispers, lips almost ghosting yours. Bold fucking move. 

“You playing me?” you ask, mouth moving faster than your mind, and fuck was that a mistake. Immediately you tear yourself from him in embarrassment, a little too vulnerable for your own comfort. Angel and Husk would mock your moment of weakness in their own hypocrisy, you can’t help but hear their laughter. Why did you say that? What the fuck? 

Lucifer’s hands catch your own before you can fully pull away from him, though, holding you in place. You look anywhere but his face, not unlike a trapped animal.

“No!” he almost shouts, “ No, nothing like that. Hey, Where’d this come from?”

Lucifer sounds genuinely worried, genuinely upset. One of his hands comes up to cup your cheek, holding you close as he pulls you back in. You cannot help but admire the bulbs of your studio lights now, the way they bask everything in a glow that leaves no blemishes in your visions. You refuse to look at Lucifer. You cannot look at him.

“Pick dare!” you tell him, a cheery voice not at all matching your face.

Lucifer’s thumb strokes your cheek.

“I enjoy your company. This isn’t a game,” he reassures you, bringing you back down to his level, “No tricks.”

You release a sigh pent up in your chest, something animalistic and desperate sounding.

“I didn’t mean to say that.”

“But I’m glad you did.”

“Ask again.”

You bite your lip, copper liquid on your teeth. Ask again, you beckon him. Ask again, you. beg. Ask again, you need. Tears unshed well up in your eyes. But no, you will not cry in front of him or any man.

“Truth or dare?” he asks, and immediately you pick dare. Every dare is safer than truth.

“I dare you to pick truth.”

Fucking prick.

“Truth.”

You roll your eyes again, if only to avoid his.

“Do you think I’m playing you?”

“Well there’s a wildly unethical power imbalance and I seem to only see you when you want to make yourself present so I can’t help but think there’s a bit of an uneven exchange,” you offer, not really holding back, but also not sharing how much this situation had you spiraling. Not at all telling Angel or Husk how you felt and just stewing alone. How many nights you’d lost sleep over this. You still refuse to look at Lucifer. You can’t. You won’t.

“Ask me a truth or dare,” he says, and you chuckle, even if you still refuse to look at him.

“Truth or dare?” you ask, not wanting to play anymore, only wanting to get back to your painting and saving face.

“Dare,” Lucifer all but begs, “dare me to prove I’m not playing with you.”

You shrug, almost hopelessly.

“Sure,” you say, “ Why not?”

Lucifer wastes no time pressing a sweet kiss to your lips, nothing too harsh and nothing that progresses into more.

“I like you,” he whispers against your lips.

He then progresses further down, a kiss to your cheek, the underside of your jaw, your neck.

“I like kissing you,” he tells you, lips dragging across your skin.

“Your friendship means a lot to me,” he pulls the strap of your shirt to the side.

“And I’d like it if we enjoyed our temporary time together,” he presses a kiss to your collarbone.

“I mean,” he pulls back, “You could get redeemed tomorrow and forget all about me!”

You’ve been here since 1973, so that’s doubtful. But you don’t miss the edge to his voice when he says that. Like you actually would forget him. As if you could be making out with the devil himself tonight and then getting a manicure with the seraphim tomorrow. 

You finally return his embrace, but not without messing with him a little bit.

“Oh yeah? That much faith in me? Why don’t you give me something to remember in boring old Heaven then?” 

Lucifer needs no other encouragement, his mouth capturing yours again, tongue eager and pushing past the threshold of lips. His hands move wildly, grasping at you, all fingers digging into flesh. He pushes you back wards until the backs of your knees touch your workbench. The act of sitting pulls you apart from him, the change in position now having you look up at him for the spectacle he always is. Lucifer looks at you through half lidded eyes and mussed hair, usually pristine sleeves rolled up to his elbows carelessly; a work of art in his own right. 

Lucifer drops to his knees almost immediately continuing the kiss, passionate as his hands start to pull at clothing. Your arms are around his back in an instant, holding him pressed to you, one hand coming up to play with his so heavenly soft hair. 

The kiss deepens, and Lucifer takes the opportunity to unbuckle your belt, the clanking of heavy metal as he pulls it to the side. He makes equally quick work of the fly of your pants, only taking pause when your soft tongue grazes across his sharp teeth making him groan and only work harder at getting you undressed. 

He works faster then, yanking your pants down to the ops of your boots, barely even breaking the kiss as he maneuvers himself back between your knees. 

The cool air of your studio hits your skin, but you’re not so sure that’s the reason why you’re shivering under his touch. 

You kiss him twice, thrice, and then break away, if only to help him the rest of the way, pulling your underwear away to fall at your ankles with your pants. 

“Touch me, please,” you ask, voice breathy and way more pathetic than you were intending to sound, but you can’t find it in yourself to be embarrassed about that right now. 

“You want me?” Lucifer asks, some thing of an edge dripping into his voice, honey with a tint of venom. You nod against him as you place your lips back on his, your hands bunching up the fabric of his crisp dress shirt. He’ll definitely need to get it steamed, but you can’t find yourself caring once his hands start to drift lower. 

Lucifer’s hands go from your hips to your thighs, running his nails across smooth skin, leaving goosebumps in his wake. He’s toying with you, drawing it out and teasing. Out of practice my ass, you think. You start to kiss harder, hoping it’ll speed him up. One of his hands comes to your knee, forcing it away and spreading your legs further from where you’re already straddling him. The other hand starts to tease upwards, his thumb starting to rub circles into your inner thigh before finally coming to the apex of them. He ghosts his thumb over your slit, and you all but convulse from tension. Fuck, you need him you need him you need him. His hand on your knee tightens its grasp, holding you still. 

Lucifer breaks the kiss to look at you, half lidded eyes and a mischievous smile on his face. This man is going to ruin you, you just know it. 

He presses a singular finger inside you slowly, exploring new territory. You whine under his touch, your forehead falling to rest on his shoulder as he moves glacially, in and out. It feels like torture almost, giving you a taste instead of everything you really want. Your fists ball up the fabric of his shirt even tighter, and you’re glad you’re not a sinner with claws because surely you would have ripped it by now. 

“You feel divine, Honey,” Lucifer sighs, pressing a sloppy kiss to the side of your head. You start to squirm, trying to feel more; fuller, deeper. 

“You want more?” he asks, as if on cue. Attentive and in tune. 

You nod, definitely not desperately, definitely not needy. 

Lucifer obliges immediately, shifting readjusting, reinserting himself now two fingers, plunged deep inside you; sinking in with no resistance. This is it, you think, the fullness you were missing. You cannot help the wanton moan that escapes your lips, mo matter how much you try to muffle it against his shoulder. 

“Thats what you needed, huh?” he coos, teasing you, “Oh yeah, definitely. I can feel you squeezing me already.”

Fuck. He’s bad news. 

You don’t have a reply for that, only a short choked out whine as he keeps moving, in out scissor, in out scissor: a perfect rhythm. He pulls the sound from your throat through your cunt, playing you like a well tuned violin. You feel your core tighten, tension building in your muscles as he works you over, a man who’s had eternity to perfect how you please a woman. 

Lucifer’s thumb finds your clit, and it’s as good as over. Your hands move wildly from their spot o bc his back, to his shoulders, to his biceps. You cling like your life depends on him. Stars form, blotchy spots in the corner of your vision, a tesla coil behind your ribcage. 

And then sparks, and then movement. Your orgasm shatters, quickly and without warning, a pitiful and low drawn out whine between gritted teeth. Lucifer keeps his pace, muttered praise falling deaf upon the ringing in your ears. His free hand rubs your thigh, soothing massaging circles. Kisses to your neck, stability against your shuddering form.

He doesn’t remove his fingers until your body stops its shaking, until your frame stills and you slump against him; Your body boneless and pliant because of him. You take the reprieve to close your eyes, to relax into him. Whatever this thing is with Lucifer, it’s dangerous, you realize that now. It would be safe if you didn’t lean into him, it would be safe if you didn’t feel warm and fuzzy and cared for in your post cum haze. It would feel safe if clarity struck you right now and told you to move out of the hotel. 

But it’s dangerous because you’re absolutely the most comfortable you’ve been since you ended up in hell, it’s dangerous because he’s absolutely not pushing you away. It’s dangerous because he seems sincere. 

It’s dangerous because the sound of him slurping on his fingers, licking them clean, disrupts your anxious train of thought. 

Fuck, thats hot. Your eyes open slowly, staring down at your lap, more specifically where he kneel’s between your thighs, his stomach pressed against the bench to be as close to you as possible. Lucifer kisses the side of your head, an action full of affection, a more serious act than what he had just finished doing to you.

“Truth or dare?” His lips move against the shell of your ear.

“We’re still doing this?” you giggle, pulling him closer. Lucifer squeezes your hip, both of his hands coming back to grab you, his wet fingers cool against the bare skin of the curve of your ass. Any tension you felt melts away with his joke. 

“Fine,” you sigh, “Truth.”

“Hang out with me tonight?” Lucifer asks, voice wobbling with a hint of insecurity.

“You mean like in your room, or with the others in the lounge?” 

Lucifer’s head dips while he goes red again, but his eyes dip down to his fingers again. 

“With everyone… If thats okay?”

Interesting. Would he acknowledge whatever this thing is between you? Grab your drinks for you, maybe share a seat with you? Your mind swirls with what tonight could look like while you absentmindedly run your fingers along the fabric of his shirt. 

You nod. 

“Yeah, I’d like that.”

This is dangerous. 

[neonspectrumdreams]

Grounding Techniques

Grounding techniques are a psychological method to end flashbacks, anxiety attacks, and negative thought spirals. Anyone can use these but they are especially helpful for interrupting symptoms of mental illness like OCD obsessions, panic attacks, or PTSD flashbacks.

Grounding techniques allow us to step back from a cyclical thought that is causing us distress. They allow us to let go of thoughts that feel overwhelming and uncontrollable. Geounding techniques give us control over our mind.

They are very helpful for disengaging from traumatic memory flooding if self-exploration gets out of hand. For this reason, they are often used to come back from overwhelming thoughts/memories during EMDR therapy.

Grounding techniques are similar to mental techniques like meditation. Meditation can also be used as a grounding technique - it provides a similar benefit.

I Spy

Pick any color (or any other distinguishing characteristic, such as shape.) Find 9 things around you that are that color. If you are still experiencing the negative thought loop after finding 9 items, repeat the exercise with a new characteristic. Keep finding sets of 9 items until you feel calm.

5x5

Experience 5 things around you with your 5 senses. Look at 5 different items near you. Feel the texture of 5 different items near you. Listen for 5 different sounds in your immediate environment. Identify 5 different scents near you. Taste 5 different flavors. It may not be possible to find 5 experiences of each sense depending on where you are (particularly taste,) so it is okay to move on from categories that do not have easily accessible sensory experiences. Repeat this until a sense of disconnection or distraction from negative thoughts is attached.

Ground in Senses

It is easy to use sensory stimuli to ground. Focusing on an experience that we perceive with one of our senses, such as touching a soft blanket, looking at a kaleidoscope, preparing and then drinking an orange juice, smelling a rose, or listening to a song, can be used to bring us back to the present and disengage from negative thought loops. Some people continue one or more sensory processes until they feel better, others set a timer and do it for a set time such as 5 or 10 minutes.

If a sensory experience that you associate with being calm or happy will make the process easier; we attach feelings to many things, and it is helpful to be aware of what feelings we associate with things such as flavors or textures. For instance, we may feel an extra sense of comfort from touching a childhood blanket that we associate with nostalgic and comforting childhood memories. It is not necessary to use a sensory experience that we associate with something else to ground, but it is helpful and is something to be mindful of.

Simple Process

These are a set of similar techniques that distract a person from dysphoric internal processes with a simple physical activity. Some people clap their hands or stamp their feet to take themselves out of their thoughts and ground in the present. Some people go for a walk for 5 to 10 minutes. Other people interface their fingers together and move their hands back and forth.

Jarring Stimuli

Some people use physical experiences that are slightly unpleasant or startling to disengage from negative thoughts and feelings and bring themselves back to the present. Some people take cold showers, wash their face with cold water, or run their hands under cold water. Other people go outside when it is cold or hot out. Other people hold onto an ice cube or touch ice.

Showering/Bathing

Many people find that a shower or bath is relaxing. Due to the complexity of sensory experiences encountered during showering or bathing, it is easy to ground in the present by focusing on the changing of temperature and feeling of water on skin and getting lost in the simple process of washing. Bathing and showering have the added bonus of being constructive activities. Some people find doing simple housework like vacuuming or washing dishes is also relaxing and grounding - and can be used to walk away from negative thoughts.

[wingedblooms]

Heart of the Night Court

This meta is a continuation of theories in forbidden secrets, blooming dreams, and bright as the dawn, as it narrows in on Illyria, Ramiel, and their connection to Wyrd. Please avoid if you do not want to read hofas spoilers. 

Facing Ramiel

The northern region of the Night Court is where Ramiel, one of the three sacred sister peaks, is located. It is considered the heart of Illyria and the Night Court. 

Ramiel. The sacred mountain.  The heart of not only Illyria, but the entirety of the Night Court.  None were permitted on its barren, rocky slopes—save for the Illyrians, and only once a year at that. During the Blood Rite.  Cassian soared toward it, unable to resist Ramiel’s ancient summons. Different—the mountain was so different from the barren, terrible presence of the lone peak in the center of Prythian. Ramiel had always felt alive, somehow. Awake and watchful. (acofas) [...] Ramiel rose higher still, a shard of stone piercing the gray sky. Beautiful and lonely. Eternal and ageless. (acofas)

Cassian describes Ramiel as alive, awake, and watchful, and so very beautiful as she rises from the earth. Likewise, Feyre emphasizes that Elain is alive and somehow infinitely more beautiful as she rises from the ground after she is Made in the Cauldron. Her legs are even bare, which remind me of the barren terrain, and her sheer nightgown might even be a hint for thin places, as @offtorivendell observed. Elain’s strength has also always been different than her sisters, just like Ramiel among her sacred sister peaks.   

And as if it had been tipped by invisible hands, the Cauldron turned on its side. More water than seemed possible dumped out in a cascade. Black, smoke-coated water.  And Elain, as if she’d been thrown by a wave, washed onto the stones facedown.  Her legs were so pale—so delicate. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d seen them bare.  The queens pushed forward. Alive, she had to be alive, had to have wanted to live– Elain sucked in a breath, her fine-boned back rising, her wet nightgown nearly sheer. And as she rose from the ground onto her elbows, the gag in place, as she twisted to look at me— Nesta began roaring again.  Pale skin started to glow. Her face had somehow become more beautiful—infinitely beautiful, and her ears … Elain’s ears were now pointed beneath her sodden hair. (acomaf)

As each spring dawns on the world, Ramiel is crowned with three stars, and the Illyrians—who we learned may have been the Asteri’s soldiers and therefore may carry on rituals that would have benefited them—honor bloodshed on her land rather than new life. 

No wonder that first ruler of the Night Court had made this his insignia. Along with the three stars that only appeared for a brief window each year, framing the uppermost peak of Ramiel like a crown. It was during that window when the Rite occurred. Which had come first: the insignia or the Rite, Cassian didn’t know. Had never really cared to find out.  The conifer forests and ravines that dotted the landscape flowing to Ramiel’s foot gleamed under the fresh snow. Empty and clean. No sign of the bloodshed that would occur come the start of spring. (acofas) 

Some even seem to take great pleasure in the killing that is permitted during this rite, and Ramiel, which we know is alive and watching, is forced to witness it every year. Azriel calls it a week of pointless bloodshed, but we know now that is likely untrue. @silverlinedeyes, @offtorivendell and I believe the Asteri may have created or warped an existing rite to suit their needs. @silverlinedeyes pointed out that this spring rite reminds her of the Great Rite, and that made something click for me: perhaps the Blood Rite is the Night Court's Great Rite. Is the secondlight from slain warriors absorbed by the land? And do those few who reach the stone, which I suspect might be the Maiden in this rite, provide firstlight to the cache hidden in Ramiel’s heart? Is it any wonder the winds around her howl, and her land is often frozen and inhospitable?

The mountain neared, mighty and endless, so wide that he might as well have been a mayfly in the wind. Cassian soared toward Ramiel’s southern face, rising high enough to catch a glimpse of the shining black stone jutting from its top.  Who had put that stone atop the peak, he didn’t know, either. Legend said it had existed before the Night Court formed, before the Illyrians migrated from the Myrmidons, before humans even walked the earth. Even with the fresh snow crusting Ramiel, none had touched the pillar of stone. (acofas)

The shining black stone on Ramiel’s face is able to heal and transport those who touch it. In acosf, it knew where Nesta’s friends were needed most and sent them to the River House. It is also on the southern face of the mountain, which in the northern hemisphere, is the part of the mountain that receives the most sunlight. Cassian tells us that he doesn’t know who put it there, but legend says it was before humans even walked the earth. While it is very likely that the Asteri warped it (into a tool to sustain them, like the gates in Lunathion as @merymoonbeam so cleverly pointed out), I believe it may have also originally been linked to the Cauldron. 

In hofas, we discover that Ramiel used to bear the Cauldron on her land:

“The Cauldron,” Nesta said hours later, pointing to yet another carving on the wall. It indeed showed a giant cauldron, perched atop what seemed to be a barren mountain peak with three stars above it. Azriel halted, angling his head. “That’s Ramiel.” At Bryce’s questioning look, he explained, “A mountain sacred to the Illyrians.”  Bryce nodded to the carving. “What’s the big deal about a cauldron?” [...]  “All life came and comes from it,” Azriel said with something like reverence. “The Mother poured it into this world, and from it, life blossomed.” (hofas) […] The snows around Ramiel parted, revealing a massive bowl of iron at the foot of the monolith. Even through the vision, its presence leaked into the world, a heavy, ominous thing. “The Cauldron,” Nesta said, dread lacing her voice. […] “The Cauldron was of our world, our heritage. But upon arriving here, the Daglan captured it and used their powers to warp it. To turn it from what it had been into something deadlier. No longer just a tool of creation, but of destruction. And the horrors it produced…those, too, my parents would turn to their advantage.” (hofas) 

I wonder if long ago, before the Asteri desecrated them, the stone and Cauldron together resembled this depiction of Wyrd: 

The Under-King lounged on a throne beneath a behemoth statue of a figure holding a black metal bowl between her upraised hands. Symbols were carved all over the bowl, continuing down her fingers, her arms, her body. Ithan could only assume it was meant to represent Urd. No other temples ever depicted the goddess, no one even dared—most people claimed that fate was impossible to portray in any one form. But it seemed that the dead, unlike the living, had a vision of her. And those symbols running from the bowl onto her skin…they were like tattoos. […] “And she,” the Under-King went on, gesturing to that unusual depiction of Urd towering above him, “was not a goddess, but a force that governed worlds. A cauldron of life, brimming with the language of creation. Urd, they call her here—a bastardized version of her true name. Wyrd, we called her in that old world.” (hofas)

This depiction is interesting because it mirrors, almost exactly, the figurine Nesta assumes is the Mother in the House of Wind: 

It was a fire. Not her father’s neck. Her gaze shifted to the carved wooden rose she’d placed upon the mantel, half-hidden in the shadows beside a figurine of a supple-bodied female, her upraised arms clasping a full moon between them. Some sort of primal goddess—perhaps even the Mother herself. Nesta hadn’t let herself dwell on why she’d felt the need to set the rose there. Why she hadn’t just thrown it in a drawer.  Another log cracked, and Nesta flinched. But she remained sitting there. Staring at that carved rose. (acosf) 

For some reason, she needed to set Elain’s rose, half-hidden in shadow, next to this depiction of what appears to be Wyrd. In hosab, the Under-King also described Wyrd as a mother to all, which is why I theorized that she is actually a triple goddess: Mother, Cauldron, Fate. They are three parts, or faces, of the same force. The three sacred sister peaks and three blessed Archeron sisters are intentionally linked to her. Perhaps the moon in the female’s hands isn’t just a moon, but a world too. Immediately after this scene, the House of Wind shows Nesta her heart in the lovely darkness of the mountain, which she calls the heart of the world, of existence. Of self. 

Heart racing, Nesta lifted the lantern in one hand and gazed at the darkness, untouched by the light from the library high, high above. The heart of the world, of existence. Of self.  The heart of the House.  “This…” Her fingers tightened on the lantern. “This darkness is your heart.” [...] Let the darkness sweep in. Embraced it. “I’m not afraid,” she whispered into it. “You are my friend, and my home. Thank you for sharing this with me.” (acosf)

Nesta embraces the heart of the House of Wind, which naturally makes me recall the heart of the Prison asking Bryce to open her heart to it…it might sing again. Awaken. There was a beating, vibrant heart locked away, far beneath them. We’re not sure exactly how Avallen might have affected the Prison island, and I suspect there is more to come with that plot thread. While I had always hoped the Valkyries might re-establish themselves as an intercourt army in the Middle, which does not have ties to any court in particular, I can also appreciate the possibility that they might ultimately settle on the Prison island instead. It would be incredible to see Pegasi return and for the Valkyries to learn how to fly on them. 

This plot is related to the core thread driving us forward, and it is something that can occur in a book that is centered on Elain and Azriel. Together, they have the vision and gifts needed to map the secrets of the land, starting with the sacred sister peaks, which I believe will ultimately help them restore Wyrd. This would fit all of the seeds Sarah has planted for the third sister’s arc with Azriel, Nuala, and Cerridwen. It would also be powerful for a character who has been underestimated and ridiculed for gardening to heal the land and the very source that created it. 

As I said prior to hofas, this exploration will inevitably bring them to the very heart of Ramiel. As a bearer of Wyrd, the source of life, Ramiel may even be the heart of the world, not just the Night Court. Will they discover that she was once very different? Did she change, as her sisters did, when the Asteri burrowed into her heart? Or was it because the Cauldron, Wyrd’s physical form, was warped into a tool of destruction by the Asteri and later removed from her land? Were the Illyrians created to guard the Cauldron since it was the Asteri’s most precious weapon? And is that why, as @cassianfanclub wondered, the Asteri were so desperate to reach the stone at the top, where the Cauldron was once depicted? Enalius may have prevented it from falling into their hands as he defended the Pass, which would’ve been a critical turning point in a rebellion. Unlike the rite they currently use to honor him, Enalius’s defense was in the service of life, which is what made Nesta’s sacrifice so inspiring. Her sacrifice is now depicted in the heart of the Court of Dreams, which is dedicated to building a better world.

Descending into Ramiel

We learn that Ramiel may be hiding secrets from Eris, of all characters: 

Eris shrugged, and Nesta knew Cassian monitored his every breath. “There are three of them, you know. Sister peaks. This one, the mountain called the Prison, and the one the Illyrian brutes call Ramiel. All bald, barren mountains at odds with those around them.” “We don’t know why they exist, but do you not find it strange that two out of the three have underground palaces carved into them?”  […]  Eris gave him a mocking smile, but continued, “Unsurprisingly, the Illyrians were never curious enough to see what secrets lie beneath Ramiel. If it, too, was carved up like the others by ancient hands.” “I thought Amarantha made the court Under the Mountain herself,” Nesta said.  “Oh, she decorated it and made us act like a sorry imitation of your Court of Nightmares, but the tunnels and halls were carved long before. By who, we don’t know.” (acosf)

He tells us that the three sacred peaks are sisters. Sacred is another word for blessed. And two out of three of them have been at least somewhat explored, but the third? Still mysterious. No one was curious enough to see what lied beneath her beautiful face, at her heart. This is such a lovely parallel for the three blessed sisters, and seems like a clear hint for the third one in particular. 

In hofas, we receive confirmation that these secrets might be connected to the Asteri, who are known as Daglan in Prythian lore: 

“They fought the Daglan and won, she went on. Using the Daglan’s own weapons, they destroyed them. Yet my parents did not think to learn the Daglan’s other secrets—they were too weary, too eager to leave the past behind.” (hofas) 

-

Vesperus backed up a half step, hissing at the gleaming weapon. “We hid pockets of our power throughout the lands, in case the vermin should cause … problems. It seems our wisdom did not fail us.” “There are no such places,” Azriel countered coldly. “Are there not?” Vesperus grinned broadly, showing all of her too-white teeth. “Have you looked beneath every sacred mountain? At their very roots? The magic draws all sorts of creatures. I can sense them even now, slithering about, gnawing on the magic. My magic. They’re as much vermin as the rest of you.” (hofas)

Bryce concludes, after Vesperus is able to draw the power from her secret cache below, that there is a firstlight core in the root, or heart, of the mountain. We see what happens in Avallen when the land is forced to contain magic where its ley lines overlap, rather than allowing it to flow as it should: it binds the magic of the land and causes it to wither like a plant with root rot. And that seems to explain why the sacred peaks are so odd: barren yet thrumming with power. 

I have theorized that the caches of power may need to be released leading up to the restoration of Wyrd, and I suspect there may be clues—especially within Ramiel—about how the Asteri warped and bound her to the land. If Elain is as tied to the land as we suspect, this could also strengthen whatever magic she possesses. 

In the cavern illustrations Bryce views in hofas, we see what might lie beneath Ramiel, maybe even the entire Night Court:

Scenes of a blessed land, a thriving civilization. One relief had been so similar to the frieze of the Fae male forging the sword at the Crescent City Ballet that Bryce had nearly gasped. The last carving before the river had been one of transition: a Fae King and Queen seated on thrones, a mountain—different from the one with the palace atop it—behind them with three stars rising above it. A different kingdom, then. Some ancient High Lord and Lady, Nesta had suggested before approaching the river.  She hadn’t commented on the lower half of the carving, which depicted a Helscape beneath their thrones, some kind of underworld. Humanoid figures writhed in pain amid what looked like icicles and snapping, scaly beasts—either past enemies conquered or an indication of what failure to bow to the rulers would bring upon the defiant.  The suffering stretched throughout, lingering even underneath that archipelago and its mountaintop palace. Even here, in paradise, death and evil remained. A common motif in Midgardian art, too, usually with the caption: Et in Avallen ego.  Even in Avallen, there am I. A whispered promise from Death. Another version of memento mori. A reminder that death was always, always waiting. Even in the blessed Fae isle of Avallen. (hofas) 

This might merely be a hint for the Asteri secrets that remain buried in the earth. But I agree with others (including @offtorivendell, @ladynightcourt3, @cassianfanclub, and @silverlinedeyes) who have wondered if this Helscape is in fact a hint that Prythian, and the Night Court in particular, is tied to Hel. We learned that the worlds in the Maasverse are tied together through ley lines, and the veil between worlds is thin where these ley lines overlap—like the lines in a star. 

That may be the true meaning of star symbols throughout the Maasverse, and the one specifically found in the Prison that is connected to the Starborn: as I theorized pre-hosab, it is a compass rose, and it seems to be linked to other places in the grander tapestry of the universe. There is power in the space where the lines meet; these lines represent ley lines. Certain people (Asteri, Starborn, etc.) are able to use that power to travel, communicate, or even light up entire worlds. Depending on how those lines are woven in certain areas, they might even be able to draw you to one place more than another. That may explain why the Prison seems more connected to Midgard. So, could Ramiel be more connected to Hel, and the Middle to…Erilea?

I wonder if Elain, Azriel, Nuala, and Cerridwen’s exploration in the heart of Ramiel might lead them to Wyrd’s Temple in Hel, except @silverlinedeyes, @offtorivendell, and I think she goes by yet another name there: Chaos. It’s possible they could use black salt or another substance to achieve this, as @offtorivendell and @cassianfanclub have discussed, especially with Elain’s sight. I am personally hoping for a physical trip to Hel and Ramiel might possess a doorway, or rift, as @offtorivendell has theorized. 

The black boat that Aidas led Bryce and Hunt into was a cross between the one that had brought them into Avallen and the ones that carried bodies to the Bone Quarter. But in lieu of a stag’s head, it was a stag’s skull at the prow, greenish flame dancing in its eyes as it sailed through the cave. The eerie green light illuminated black rock carved into pillars and buildings, walkways and temples. Ancient. And empty. Bryce had never seen a place so void of life. So … still. Even the Bone Quarter had a sense of being lived in, albeit by the dead. But here, nothing stirred. […] “It’s like a city of the dead,” Hunt murmured, draping a wing around Bryce. Aidas turned from where he stood at the prow, holding in his hands a long pole that he’d used to guide them. “That’s because it is.” He gestured with a pale hand to the buildings and temples and avenues. “This is where our beloved dead come to rest, with all the comforts of life around them.” […] Before Aidas could answer, the boat approached a small quay leading to what appeared to be a temple. A figure emerged from between the pillars of the temple and descended its front steps. Golden-haired, golden-skinned. […] “The Temple of Chaos is a sacred place,” Apollion said sharply. “We shall never defile it with violence.” The words rumbled like thunder again.

This sounds familiar, doesn’t it? It sounds an awful lot like other beliefs in the Maasverse:

Bryce asked, because some small part of her had to know after what she’d seen of the Mask, “When you die, where do your souls go?” Did they even believe in the concept of a soul? Maybe she should have led with that.  But Azriel said softly, “They return to the Mother, where they rest in joy within her heart until she finds another purpose for us. Another life or world to live in.” (hofas)

-

“We’ll collect the dead tomorrow,” Manon said, her voice low. “And burn them at moonrise.” As both Crochans and Ironteeth did. A full moon tomorrow—the Mother’s Womb. A good moon to be burned. To be returned to the Three-Faced Goddess, and reborn within that womb. (koa)

Wyrd (Chaos) is the heart of the world, of existence. Of self. And that is where people rest in joy until they are reborn. Could this be where the spirits are migrating on Starfall?

We know the Princes of Hel are intergalactic helpers, so a trip to Hel or an encounter with a Prince (Bryaxis? Thanatos? Even Balthazar, if he isn’t Elain? 😉 still my favorite crack theory) might give us insight into their role in Prythian. It could also involve Azriel’s peculiar magic that makes him, like Ramiel, so different from even his Illyrian brothers. Let's be honest, he’s always had a Prince of Hel vibe—down to his reverence for Wyrd (Mother, Cauldron, Fate/Chaos)—that I would love to see come to fruition. 

Beyond Azriel himself, I also think we will learn the origins of the Illyrians in the heart of Ramiel. Were they connected to Hel before the Asteri made them their soldiers, like @silverlinedeyes and @offtorivendell theorized? Or were they an experiment like the blessed sisters? Did the Asteri put humans (hence the ears) into the Cauldron after it was imbued with their void magic and create beings of night and pain who could combat enemies, including demons? This might be another reason why the three most powerful Illyrians are a match in power for the three blessed sisters. 

Together, they balance opposing forces as @silverlinedeyes previously theorized. They seem to represent the forces of Void and Chaos, and their power can be combined in the space between to achieve impossible feats (eg, physically healing the Cauldron and the rip in the world). All three sisters seem to be chosen bearers, or conduits, for Wyrd (Chaos), so I wouldn’t be surprised if we see another example of this in a different way for Azriel and Elain, and/or a scene where they are all linked magically.  

My lips tugged toward a smile. But Rhys stared at all of us, somehow assembled here in the sun-drenched open grasses without being given the order. Our family—our court. The Court of Dreams.  […] He surveyed them all again—and held out his hand to Cassian. Cassian took it, and held out his other hand for Mor. Then Mor extended her other to Azriel. Azriel to Amren. Amren to Nesta. Nesta to Elain. And Elain to me. Until we were all linked, all bound together. (acowar)

Since Ramiel is connected to Wyrd (Chaos), and there may be a doorway to her temple in Hel, this journey will likely also uncover secrets about her. Will her story come from illustrations in stone, members of Hel, or…my personal favorite, Wyrd herself? I believe that is one of the many reasons she gifted Elain with such powers, including sight: so she could tell her story to someone who could see differently. Someone who could see the creator within the darkness, just as Elain saw the dark cottage as a shelter rather than a prison. This gift may provide them the information they need to uncover the Asteri’s secrets and unravel their magic from the sacred peaks and Wyrd, which could lead them to at least two other places: (1) Midgard, where the Book of Breathings is now kept by Bryce, and (2) Cretea, where the Cauldron is currently hidden. Could Azriel even pay back Bryce for stealing his precious dagger? It would only be fitting. 

Ramiel Springs Eternal 

I was so cold I might never be warm again. Even during winter in the mortal realm, I’d managed to find some kernel of heat, but after nearly emptying my cache of magic that afternoon, even roaring heart fire couldn’t thaw the chill around my bones. Did spring ever come to this blasted place? (acomaf)

Illyria is known for being bitterly cold, to the point where Feyre wonders if spring would ever arrive there. Sarah has consistently described Elain as blooming life amid death and winter, and this imagery starts to become really apparent in Illyria: 

Mor let out a snort that made the Illyrians stiffen. But she shifted, revealing Elain behind her. Elain was just blinking, wide-eyed, at the camp. The army.  Devlon let out a grunt at the sight of her. But Elain wrapped her own blue cloak around herself, averting her eyes from all those towering, muscled warriors, the army camp bustling toward the horizon…She was a rose bloom in a mud field. Filled with galloping horses. (acowar) 

Compared to Nesta, a newly forged sword, Elain is a blooming flower even in an Illyrian army camp, which is essentially saying she is a bloom of life and color in the middle of winter. This imagery is so fitting because she commits her time to creating and restoring gardens wherever she goes. She brings life and joy and beauty into the world. Even her scent is a promise of spring: 

Her sister’s delicate scent of jasmine and honey lingered in the red-stoned hall like a promise of spring, a sparkling river that she followed to the open doors of the chamber. […] Her sister turned toward her, glowing with health. Elain’s smile was as bright as the setting sun beyond the windows. (acosf)

We also know she is also capable of hearing sound, specifically hearts, through stone. In their conversation about heartbeats, Lucien even wonders if she is speaking to him: 

She looked away—toward the windows. “I can hear your heart,” she said quietly. He wasn’t sure how to respond, so he said nothing, and drained his tea, even as it burned his mouth. “When I sleep,” she murmured, “I can hear your heart beating through the stone.” She angled her head, as if the city view held some answer. “Can you hear mine?” He wasn’t sure if she truly meant to address him, but he said, “No, lady. I cannot.”  Her too-thin shoulders seemed to curve inward. “No one ever does. No one ever looked—not really.” A bramble of words. (acowar)

Was Elain actually speaking to one of the sister peaks, or even Wyrd, during some of this conversation? Her response to Lucien even seems to echo the song of the land: no one had ever truly looked, not really. No one knew what secrets they carried in their heart. This is such a lonely existence. As Elain and Azriel heal the land, I believe they will also heal their own wounds. Feel seen and heard. Understood. 

Elain was also wearing a blue cloak in the Illyrian camp. Could that be a hint of her future work with others who wear something similar, like the priestesses who worship Wyrd? She answered her sister’s prayer during the war rather than Wyrd and has led her own sister in prayer before. Is she more priestess—more healer—than warrior, and is that the different sort of strength needed to garden on a larger scale? @willowmeres and I were discussing this the other night: perhaps like Gwydion and TT (which I theorized singing to each other across space), Elain’s rose necklace was called to the library when the priestesses were singing about Wyrd. And because like calls to like, the necklace answered and drew Azriel to the library instead of the Palace of Thread and Jewels. Like her sisters before her, Elain might receive help from priestesses as she hones her vision and gifts. I would scream if this turns out to be true because that necklace is pure Chaos (pun definitely intended).

It’s also possible the priestesses could be helpful in unbinding Void from the Book of Breathings, a book of spells. I doubt this will be a simple matter, however. It might rival the unraveling of Erawan, which required massive raw healing magic. Will the Asteri’s void magic manifest on another plane as Elain battles it with raw healing magic, shining bright as the dawn? Could a dawn ritual help ground her during this battle? And will Azriel, the sisters, the brothers, even priestesses with their healing stones, need to create a living chain to defeat Void and fully restore Wyrd (Chaos) in the end? Will we finally get a glimpse of her, unbound? 

Maybe with the help of Azriel and others, Elain will even restore Wyrd—blossoming life—to Ramiel’s sunniest face, the heart of the world, of existence. Of self. And true spring will finally come to her sacred land.

[witch-hazels-musings]

Ginseng, Lavender and wormwood! I’m just such a freaking sucker for soft as you know 🥺

ALSO I TOLD U ALREADY BUT UR EVENTS ALWAYS LOOK SO GORGEOUS AND AESTHETICALLY PLEASING?? I WANNA SEE SPOOKY MAGIC NOW HELLO!

(The only magic is how amazing ur writing is tbh)

Ginsing (communication, guidance), Lavender (comfort, calm), Wormwood (nightmares) Xiao x gn reader | Protection Ritual warning: reader nightmare (non-specific), emotional reader, soft xiao (as if there is anything else)

You awoke trembling. Your whole body on high alert transforming the normal, everyday objects in your room into monsters or otherworldly creatures out to consume you. Every breath was a struggle and though you were burning up, the thought of removing your protective blanket seemed impossible.

The benefit of living on your own was freedom. Unrestricted freedom came with making your own rules and defining your own path, but it also meant you were left alone - alone to struggle and piece yourself back together when things fell apart.

Sleep tugged at your eyes but every time you closed them nightmarish images flooded you in sharp, bright flashes until you forced them open. You turned on your side but that only made you feel exposed.

Your bedroom felt claustrophobic. The walls leaned toward you as if to cave in and crush you beneath them. Your bed shrank so you curled your body into a ball to avoid slipping off the edges. You looked to the door that led to the balcony. Moonlight peeked in through the crack below.

Your legs moved on their own, launching you from the bed and toward the door. Sweaty hands grip the nob, flung it open, and gave you the freedom you searched for. The railing felt cool on your skin, the midnight air like river water flowing around you. You gazed at the moon and whispered.

"Shouldn't you be asleep?"

You turned at the sound of Xiao's voice. His body materializing from infinite mist the shade of Liyue's deepest pools. Fear propelled you to him and he caught you without restraint.

His body was warm, surprisingly so. The aura around him always shifted your perspective but his essence put it right again. Spring winds off roaring rivers, morning rain on blooming flowers. You buried your face into his scent and tried to calm your shivering.

"Another nightmare?" he asked, calm and nonjudgemental. You nodded and said nothing. "There, there," he said into the top of your head, his hand sliding across your back as he held you against him.

It took some time for the fear to abate, for the scenes of your haunted imagination to drift away. Xiao never rushed you. Never pushed you away, never told you to move faster than you were ready. He simply stood there, his cheek against your head, his hand at your back.

When you moved and pulled away from him, your cheeks were wet and puffy.

"How are you feeling?" he asked, gaze soft as he looked at you. You rubbed your cheek with the back of your hand and made the redness worse. Xiao pushed your hand away and brushed your face with his cooling, tender touch.

"Better. Thank you." You closed your eyes and let him care for you. When the touch of him faded, you opened them again.

"Do you wish me to stay?" he asked, and felt bad to ruin all the work he had just finished doing.

"Yes, please," you mumbled, voice tight and worn.

"Alright," he hummed and brought your head to lean against his shoulder while his arm slid across the crook of your back to keep you close. "For as long as you need. I will stay."

You wrapped your arms around his neck and relied on his strength until your body gave to sleep or the sun rose for a new day, whichever came first.

Thaumaturgy Anthology (October 11-13, 2024)

This event is based on spells and rituals. Inspiration does not equal understanding; liberties have been taken. All content is owned by Witch Hazels Musings, theft of these images and stories will result in immediate action.

[stardust-swan]

What Is It Like in a *Posh* Moroccan Hammam? 🫧

When I say "posh," I mean upmarket hammams in a wealthy residential areas, not hammams in hotels. This post is about authentic hammams used by wealthy Moroccans, not ones aimed at tourists.

Decor

One of the first things you'll notice in upmarket hammams is that the decor is far more elaborate than in basic hammams. Decor will of course vary from place to place, but to use the example of the hammam next to my great-aunt's place in Casablanca I always make sure to go to:

The walls in both the main washroom and the sauna room are made out of blue and white marble in a traditional zellige pattern. There are also ornate sinks jutting out of the walls also of blue and white marble, whereas in basic hammams there will just be faucets. The sauna has long benches made of marble across the length of each side of the room, and the massage tables are slabs of heated light grey marble.

Regardless of the individual decor choices of each hammam, each building will always be spacious, with high ceilings and curved arches.

Ambience

Upmarket hammams feel luxurious, but understated, focusing on relaxation and subtle elegance rather than opulence and "wowing" people.

The lighting will normally be natural, but if artificial lighting is used it will be subtle and non-intrusive. Whereas in basic hammams it will be bright and practical, and in tourist hammams it will be dim with lighting coming from lanterns and candles (ambient, but not practical for visibility).

Although some may have private areas, authentic hammams in wealthy areas will generally follow the tradition of communal bathing.

As they are located in residential areas rather than tourist hotspots, and as they are a lot larger than basic hammams, they don't feel overcrowded and the experience is more intimate.

Services Offered

Upmarket hammams offer more services than basic hammams, but unlike tourist hammams, all the services are based in authentic Moroccan traditions, whereas in hotels the hammams offer a blend of the basic Moroccan services (sauna, sabon beldi, etc) and services similar to what you'd find in Western spas.

Authentic services you will find in upmarket Moroccan hammams include:

The usual sauna, cleansing with sabon beldi, deep exfoliation and ghassoul clay masks you'll find in every hammam in the country

Massages with argan oil, ghassoul clay, jasmine oil, amber oil, olive oil, honey, or herbal compresses

Herbal steam baths with tabrima, eucalyptus, lavender or mint

Rosewater and orange blossom water rinses

Henna treatments (it's not just used for temporary tattoos but has benefits for the skin and hair)

Facials with products like argan oil, sweet almond oil, honey, and saffron

Foot baths with herbs, oils, and/or milk

(Services will depend on each individual hammam)

The treatments are all high quality by staff who really work for their money. The attendants will scrub off absolutely every bit of dead skin on your body, and I have honestly never been as thoroughly massaged as I have been in these hammams.

Relaxation Lounge

In basic hammams, you just put your clothes on and leave after adjusting to room temperature, but in upmarket ones, you relax in the hammam after towelling off.

After you're dressed, the staff will lead you to another room. To use the hammam local to my great aunt as an example again, the relaxation lounge in this one:

Is full of white chaise longues, one facing another so that you can chat with your companion. They each have a low table in between them, on which a staff member will put down a silver tray, which will have a lit candle which will also have ghassoul clay integrated into it. There will also be glycerin preserved rose petals scattered on the tray, and of course refreshments - a bottle of cold water (much needed after all the heat and steam) and refreshing peppermint tea in a floral cup and matching saucer.

In other upmarket hammams they might have leather couches or armchairs instead of chaise loungues, regular candles without the clay, and Moroccan mint tea instead of peppermint herbal tea, but they'll all follow the same format.

Would I Recommend Trying One of These Hammams?

If you want a luxurious but 100% authentic hammam experience, absolutely! Although hotel hammams are surely fun with their swimming pools, etc, if you want to really experience true Moroccan culture and feel classy while you do it, I'd recommend finding one in a middle or upper class residential area.

They're also inexpensive if you're on Western wages - the one I described in the post is €4 for entry and €15 for a massage, and pretty much all similar hammams will be in that general wheelhouse. Whereas I have no doubt that the ones in hotels are way more expensive - the tourist price vs the local price.

Tips For Going to Authentic Hammams

Whereas in hotels the staff will speak multiple languages, in ones the locals use usually they'll know just Darija and French, maybe basic English but there's no guarantee. If you know French it will be fine, but if not get a Moroccan friend to accompany you.

Shave before going. The attendants will only exfoliate you if your skin is hairless, as the kessa glove can more effectively remove dead skin and impurities without hair in the way, and with smooth skin there's no chance of the rough gloves tugging on your hair and causing your skin to become irritated. The subsequent skincare products applied to your body will also be easier to apply evenly and will be better absorbed. If you haven't shaved beforehand they'll just give you a razor.

You can buy toiletries like soaps and towels, but it's also acceptable to bring your own.

Don't be afraid to get naked. Moroccan women strip down to their panties. Nobody will look at you, everyone is concentrating on bathing (wearing your bra or swimsuit is honestly more likely to bring attention to you than going topless as that's how people will know you're a tourist). You'll see many different body types and all ages in the hammam, so don't worry about being judged if you have stretch marks, extra weight, etc

Men and women bathe in separate areas or buildings, so don't worry about the opposite sex seeing you. You might occasionally see a mother taking her young son with her (as in, toddler age), but never older boys and men.

You can talk and laugh, but don't shout or giggle loudly or anything. It's meant to be a relaxing experience for everyone, and as the rooms are so spacious, loud noises will carry across them.

The massages are really thorough, so be prepared. I've been massaged everywhere from the insides of my ears to my privates in these hammams. If you have anywhere you'd rather they don't touch, communicate it with the massage therapist before getting your massage done, as the norm is to massage literally everywhere.

[unmotivated-artist164]

HI EVERYONE

A/N: So I finally got a break from my classes and I managed to finish Part 2 of "The Fewer The Desires, The More Peace." YAY!

CW: Smut (crazy, ik) 18+, LANGUAGE, improper use of a hot tub, Oral (M&GN receiving), angst ending. GN reader

Playlist for this fic ^^^

HAVE FUN!

The sun dipped just below the horizon line, sinking out of view as it painted the sky with vivid orange hues swirled with luscious pink tones.

The warm rays kissed your skin as you walked out onto the balcony of your hotel room, fingers clutching the cotton towel around your torso. The Boys were currently on an endorsed mission, allowing for more comfortable sleeping arrangements this time around, versus the normally decrepit motels.

Motels.

Your mind wandered back to your pleasurable encounter with Butcher those weeks ago.

The dynamic between you both has shifted since then. You could call it friends with benefits, seeing as there was no better name for it. Butcher would seek you out late at night when the rest of the team was asleep, before he took out his frustration on you thoroughly in the only way he could see how. Y'know, without blood and guts.

But lately there have been some nights....not often, but some....where Butcher was gentler. Kissing along your skin accompanied by hushed words dripping with the sweetest honey. Gentle thrusts or the curling of fingers that just KNOW how to make you mewl his name in the most sinful way.

You shook off those thoughts as you glanced at the expansive hot tub on your balcony, remembering your original purpose for coming out here.

The towel dropped from your frame as you hurriedly slipped into the secluded porcelain, sighing at the sensation of the temperamental water against your skin, easing your tense and aching muscles after a long day.

Time blurs together, not knowing if it was minutes or hours you sat there before a knock sounded at your door.

You froze before registering the sound. It was heavy and rhythmic.

Butcher.

You quickly surveyed your options. 'I could get out and grab my towel, at least appear a little decent. Or I could bolt and pull on clothes, but I don't want to leave him waiting.'

'But....if he's here right now, I'll end up without clothes anyway by the end of the night.' You mentally huffed.

"Come in!" You finally decided as you bellowed, remaining in the hot tub.

The sound of the door clicking reached your ears, imposing footsteps making the hardwood floor creak before the sliding glass panel swished open.

Butcher stalked out onto the balcony, eyes wandering before they landed on you, expression changing into an amused grin. "Ello' ello. Seems I been missin' out all on the fun tonight." He purred at you, standing in his signature trench coat and *horrible* Hawaiian shirt with dark pants. (Jk, we love the fit.)

You snorted, arms resting across your body subconsciously with a predatory smile back. "Such an old pervert." You mused.

Butcher mock-gasped at your jab, placing a hand over his heart in feigned offense. "You wound me, love. I thought you adored me silver fox charm." He pouted for a moment before he smirked.

"Besides, older lads have more.....experience, i tell ya. We know our way around someone's body. How to be a damn gentleman."

"You are far from a gentleman." You shot back.

"And you like it, don't ya?" Butcher snickered with his signature head wiggle.

Your cheeks heated and your hand rose, flipping him off as he cackled, purely amused by your fiery reply.

"Room for two in there, aye?" Butcher's voice inquired, breaking the silence that had fallen as he was already undressing. You sighed and waved your hand to the bubbling water. "Go ahead, I suppose."

His clothes pooled at his feet, along with your towel before he prowled towards you, climbing over the side and slipping under the water with a groan.

"Bloody hell, that's it." His eyes closed as he settled. Butcher's dark eyes fluttered open, lingering on you. "Ya know, you ain't gotta cover up for me sake. 'Seen it all before."

You rolled your eyes but let your hands fall from your body, resting in the water. "So insistent."

An amused smirk tugged at the corners of Billy's mouth as he watched your hands drop, his eyes drinking you in like a parched man. He followed you, lazily propelling himself towards you with smooth, powerful strokes, his eyes never leaving your figure.

When he reached your side, he stopped and leaned back against the side of the hot tub, his muscular arms resting along the edge. "Just saying, love. No point in hidin' what's already been memorized."

You rolled your eyes with a snicker as you moved your hands through the water while Butcher relaxed against the wall, his own form on display.

'He looked like such a dad in that pose. I wonder what he'd look like with a kid on his knee-'

*No.*

You cut off that train of thought IMMEDIATELY, knowing you'd never experience that fantasy coming true.

Butcher could practically see your thoughts running through your head, picking up on the subtle cues you exuded. He raised an eyebrow, a smirk playing on his lips. "You got a faraway look, love. Whatcha thinking 'bout over there, hmm?"

Your chest filled with embarrassment and waved his words off. "O-oh, it's nothing. My mind is just wandering a little bit. It's really nothing to worry about."

He didn't buy it though, eyes narrowing slightly as he pushed off the edge of the tub, moving closer to you in the water, an arm resting behind you. "Now, now, love. Don’t lie to me. I may be many things, but gullible ain't fucking one of em. That pretty little head thinkin' bout somethin, ain't it? Spill."

The sounds of the city below you both filled the silence before you moved, wrapping your arms around his shoulders, fingers brushing in the base of dark hair at the nape of his neck. "Nothing, I promise. Just...trivial stuff. Dinner, the weather, stuff like that." You replied, hoping to get him to believe you.

Butcher's hands instinctively moved to rest on your waist, steadying you on instinct, palms gripping your soft flesh.

"Yeah, that's bollocks, and we both know it." He grumbled, his eyes meeting yours, trying to discover the truth. "You're not the type to think so hard about something like dinner." He mumbled as you giggled softly.

"I promise, it's nothing." You assured him in a low tone before leaning in, pressing your lips to his, taking in his smokey, whiskey-laced taste.

Kissing you back with a mixture of familiarity and pent up desire, Butcher's hands lowered around your hips, pulling your body taut against his. He could feel the heat radiating off your body, the water lapping gently around the two of you.

He deepened the kiss, his tongue sliding along the seam of your lips, seeking entry that you granted, grunting as he tilted your head back to deepen the kiss. His fingers dug into your hips, his actions demanding and full of subtle dominance. Butcher turned and pressed you against the wall of the hot tub, his kisses growing more wild and full of need. Your fingers ran in his hair, legs wrapping around his waist as his calloused hands held you up under your thighs.

"You little fucking brat," Butcher hissed against your lips as your legs wrapped around his waist, pulling your body flush against his. His hands slid down to grip your ass, anchoring you to him as he broke the kiss, his lips moving to trail along the side of your neck. He nibbled and suckled softly at the sensitive skin there, leaving behind faint pink marks you knew would be a deep purple by morning.

Billy let out a deep groan as you ground your hips against him, against his slowly hardening cock. His grip on you tightened, his fingers digging into your muscle.

"Fuck, love. This ain't gonna end well if you keep fuckin' humpin' me like a dog, you damned tease." he growled in your ear, his breath hot on your skin.

You giggle despite the circumstances and kiss along his jaw, across the side of his neck. "What're you gonna do, hmm? Fuck me silly? You've already done that, Butcher, i think it might be getting a little old."

Butcher froze for a moment before he roughly grabbed your chin, dragging your gaze to him, his own eyes filled with a daunting and dangerous gleam you don't normally see.

"Ohhh. Y'wanna repeat that, love? M'not sure if me ears be the best anymore, cause there ain't no fuckin' way you're pullin' this cheeky bollocks on me, knowin' I could have ya' weepin' f'me." He cooed condescendingly as one of his hands traveled down to the space between your legs, fingers lightly tracing your inner thighs, not letting you have satisfaction yet.

You gripped his shoulders, bucking your hips to drive his touch closer to where you need him. "Billy, please." You stuttered.

Butcher clicked his tongue with a feral grin. "Ah, ah. Y'gonna be a good little plaything fo' big scary Butcher?"

Your eyes would flutter, covered in a shadow of desire, your bottom lip trapped between your teeth as you lowered your chin, batting your eyelashes at Butcher. "Please, Butcher. I need you so bad."

Butcher's chest rumbled with a deep snicker as he hoisted you onto the edge of the hot tub, throwing your legs over his shoulder as he sank further into the water.

"Fuckin' hell." Butcher cursed under his breath. "Didn't know you were on the pull, love." He whispered into your inner thigh, lips grazing the sensitive flesh as he kneaded them. Your fingers raked in his hair, tugging on the charcoal locks, attempting to yank him closer to where you desired him.

Billy chuckled and licked along the length of you, groaning as the taste of you danced on his tongue. "Oh, fuck." He hissed before he dove in, nipping and sucking wildly as you gasped, back arching against the railing of the hot tub, the contrast of the cold metal against your heated skin making your head spin. "God, Billy." You mewled, breathing quickening.

"God ain't here love, s'just me." He purred, winking at you between your thighs like a complete dork before intensifying his efforts.

Heat pooled in your belly, the coil tightening already. Not even your favorite vibe could get you this close, THIS fast.

You came with a shriek of his name, pulling on his hair hard enough to cause Butcher to groan loudly into you.

"God damn it all, ya fuckin' soaked me, didn't ya'?" Butcher grinned as he wiped his lower lip, his beard glistening with the evidence of your pleasure.

"How 'bout a change of scenery, aye?"

Butcher wrapped your legs around his waist, stepping out of the hot tub, water dripping from the both of you, the hardwood floors becoming slippery as he tossed you onto the bed roughly.

"Would you quit manhandling me?" You mock pouted.

"Ya like it too much fo' me to stop." Butcher purred as you slid down to your knees on the floor while he sat on the foot of the bed, his cock throbbing, the tip leaking with a cherry hue.

You traced your thumb down the front of his shaft, tracing a thick vein as he growled, becoming impatient.

"Betta' get to work before I stretch that pretty throat, love."

You chuckled and your thumb swiped the tip, collecting the bead of his pre-cum, bringing it to your mouth while keeping eye contact with him.

"Naughty, naughty." Billy hissed before grabbing your hair by the roots, roughly shoving you towards his cock as you gasped. "'nough teasin', now."

You composed yourself before kissing up from the base, feeling it twitch before you lightly sucked on the tip, your hand wrapping around his shaft to stroke the rest as you worked your way down his length.

Butcher sighed and his head fell back as you pleased him. "That's it." He breathed through his teeth.

But he needed more. He needed YOU.

You let Butcher lift you to your feet with his tight grip on your chin, never breaking eye contact as your body moves sensually.

"I think we've been playin' enough, yeah?" Billy questioned. You nodded and wrapped your arms around his neck as you slid into his lap, spreading your legs for him. He licked his fingers before they traced along your entrance, slipping in easily. "Ohhhh, look at that. Little thing's beggin' fo' me." He cooed as he stretched you out for his cock.

You'd stutter and buck your hips, trying to drive him deeper, needing every last part of him. "Butcher, please." You beg, pupils dilating as you drank in his frenzied gaze.

"Do ya want me cock, pretty thing? Do ya need me to satisfy ya like no dobber can?" He rasped in your ear.

As soon as you frantically nodded, Butcher was turning you over onto your hands and knees in the middle of the bed, a calloused and rough hand running distinctly gentle fingers down your spine as your back was deliciously arched for his hungry gaze. He slipped on a condom he found in the nightstand. (10/10 hotel)

"Oh look atcha. All laid out f'me. Don't worry, I'll ruin you nice and good." Butcher murmured in his silvery voice before he breaks off with a sharp intake of breath as he runs his tip along your entrance, teasing you.

Butcher groaned, swallowed by your warmth as he buried himself inside of you. "F-fuck you're so tight. So perfect f'me."

"Billy, please!" You keened into the sheets before Butcher slammed all the way inside of you, cutting off your plea with a gasp as you frantically grasped the headboard for purchase.

"That's it!" Butcher barked as he started at a rough pace, no longer wanting to hold back. "Fuckin' take it. This is what you wanted, aye?" His hand slips around to trace down your throat, feeling your fluttering pulse as he ravishes you.

"O-oh fuck! Fuck, Fuck me harder!" You'd whine as you bounced your hips back to meet his thrusts, and the sound of skin slapping reverberating through the room was downright *nasty.*

Butcher swallowed hard as he was losing himself in knee-buckling, mind numbing, skin tingling, gasping pleasure with you, frantically kissing down your spine, digging his fingers into your hips to move faster, wanting- no- NEEDING you to find your orgasm with him.

"Come on, pretty girl/boy. I know you can do betta' than that. I know how much you want me. Fuck, you could be wearing a garbage bag and I'd still want ya, love." Butcher babbled as the coil in your stomach got tighter from his rough voice.

"Butcher, fuck! Oh god, I need you. Want you, all the time." You crooned, melting into the sheets as you lost your grip on the headboard, Butcher's palm coming up to run through your hair as your face pressed into the sheets.

What made your vision go white with bliss however, was when Butcher leaned down, intertwining his fingers with yours intimately, causing this new angle to drill into your sweet spot, causing you to thrash, racing over that edge with a howl of his name. (that the team most likely heard 🫢)

Butcher's vision goes white as his cock swells inside of you, filling the condom as he bucks his hips to prolong your pleasure.

As you came down from your high, you turned over, lax and boneless into the mattress as Butcher pulled out, tying the condom and discarding it before turning his gaze back towards you.

He gave you a small smirk, seeming more calm as he prowled on top of you, kissing up your body.

"How ya' feelin', love?" Billy whispered against your chest, listening to your heartbeat.

You turned my head to look into his eyes. This wasn't Butcher. It was William. Billy. He wasn't just all sexy swagger that radiated sin and indulgence. This was the man that had nestled his way into your heart late at night. He looked almost...beautiful.

"I'm perfect." You answered with a gentle but sleepy smile.

You couldn't help but lean forward, kissing him oh so gently as your thumb traced his cheekbone.

Billy froze for a moment, caught off guard by the gentle kiss. Every fiber of his being was used to receiving only passionate kisses from you, filled with lust and desire. But this... this was different. It was gentle, soft, filled with affection he hadn't felt in a long time.

It terrified him.

He roughly pushed you away, shoving you backwards into the soft sheets of the bed as he looked down at you. His normal bastard vibrato snaps into place again. "Aye, what'cha tryin'a pull, love? Looking' fo' a round two? M'sorry darlin', but m'little tuckered out fo' that."

Butcher grabbed his clothes and roughly yanked them on, running his fingers along the collar of his trench coat, plastering on a devilish smirk. "Give ya a bell next time, love." He spun on his heel, putting on a show of slipping out of the room as your mouth opened to say......something. ANYTHING. Just for him to say this once..........

But he was already gone into the night......

Butcher stood in the chilly night air, his skull thumping quietly against the wall next to your room. His shaky fingers found THE necklace under his shirt, gripping it hard enough to leave an imprint in his palm.

His thoughts raced like a damn Daytona 500 track. Billy felt like a traitor, with every thump of his heart, driving him further and further into these feelings head-on. How could he move on from Becca so quickly? With his damn teammate of all things.

He'd just have to nip this in the bud, he concluded before he growled, shoving his hands into his pockets as he sauntered away from your room. And out of your private life.

A/N: I hope you guys enjoyed part 2! I'm already getting some ideas for part 3, so lmk if you wanna be in the tag list! My inbox is open for questions, requests, or just to say hi!

Love you all, eat or drink something, go for a walk, take a break, AND FEEL GOOD ABOUT YOUR BEAUTIFUL SELF GOD DAMN IT!

[sir-walter-elliot]

Sir Walter, I must ask... What is your skincare routine?

You are very wise to ask such a thing—more would do well to follow my advice for the skin, and I have no scruples in sharing my methods so that more people will benefit from luminous skin and I will not have the misfortune of looking upon so many frightful scarecrows!

My skincare routine is thus.

In the morning, I first wash my face, neck, and hands with elder-flower water. I apply a paste of white wax, almond oil, and spermaceti to my lips. My face is pinched between the fingertips for 10 minutes to bring a rosy glow to the skin. Finally, I anoint my face, neck, and hands with Gowland, and apply a fine white lead-based powder over it.

(I say "I" do these tasks, but of course it is actually my servants who attend to me and perform all the duties I am describing.)

In the afternoon, I fumigate my face, which is very efficacious in preventing or even removing wrinkles. (Not that I personally have any wrinkles to remove, but I mention this only for others who do have such a misfortune.) My servant puts some powder of the best myrrh upon an iron plate, and heats it sufficiently to melt the gum. I then hold my face over it, with my head covered with a napkin, for 20 minutes. My face is then washed with milk. Another layer of Gowland is applied.

Before I go to bed, I wash my face with rose-water, then apply a paste of boiled egg whites, alum, and almond oil. This remains on for 30 minutes, then is removed with Venice soap and fresh rose-water. Five drops of oil of rhodium are applied to the skin and gently massaged in. Then a final layer of Gowland is applied, of course, and my eye mask secured on top.

So, you see, it's really quite simple for anyone to follow.

[t-went1]

A Skincare Ritual for the Post-Pilates Glow 🤍✨

After an invigorating pilates session, your body feels revitalized, and your mind is clear. But to truly embrace that post-pilates glow, it’s essential to enhance your skincare routine with nourishing rituals that keep your skin radiant and healthy. Here’s a chic guide to achieving that coveted glow with a simple yet luxurious skincare regimen designed specifically for after your workout.

1. Hydrate with a Gentle Cleanser

Post-workout, your skin can feel sweaty and tired, making it crucial to cleanse effectively yet gently. Start with a hydrating cleanser that removes impurities without stripping your skin of its natural oils. Look for ingredients like hyaluronic acid to ensure your skin retains moisture.

How to Use:

Apply a small amount to damp skin, massage gently in circular motions, and rinse thoroughly with lukewarm water. Follow up with a soft towel to pat your skin dry.

2. Refresh with a Facial Toner

After cleansing, apply a facial toner to refresh and prep your skin for the next steps. Toners help balance the skin’s pH, remove any leftover impurities, and provide an extra layer of hydration. Look for a toner infused with soothing ingredients like rose water or witch hazel.

How to Use:

Soak a cotton pad with toner and swipe it across your face and neck, or simply mist it directly onto your skin. Allow it to absorb before moving on to the next step.

3. Nourish with a Vitamin C Serum

Once your skin is cleansed and toned, it’s time to apply a Vitamin C serum. This powerhouse ingredient brightens the complexion, helps even skin tone, and fights free radicals.

How to Use:

Apply a few drops to your fingertips and gently press the serum into your skin, focusing on areas that need extra attention. Allow the serum to absorb fully before moving on to the next step.

4. Moisturize with a Vitamin C Cream

Choose a luxurious moisturizer that nourishes and hydrates your skin. Look for a cream rich in antioxidants like Vitamin C and hydrating ingredients like squalane or marula oil.

How to Use:

Take a small amount and warm it between your palms before applying it to your face and neck. Use upward motions to promote circulation and lymphatic drainage.

5. Add a Vitamin C Oil to Lock Everything In

To seal in all that goodness, add a Vitamin C oil like this one here to add even more anti-aging and skin barrier benefits. It’s important that your face oil doesn’t leave your face greasy, but it gives a nice glow with an extremely lightweight feel. Our Vitamin C & Enzyme Oil gives an extra boost of nature's vitamin C and enzymes. Formulated with papaya extracts, its natural enzyme content featuring Papain, is known to brighten uneven skin tones, fight to lighten dark marks and scarring, and give your skin a healthy, radiant glow. You can find this product here.

How to Use:

Apply a few drops to clean fingertips or to clean skin and rub gently, avoiding the eye area. 

6. Finish with a Glow-Enhancing Sunscreen

Even if you’re not heading outdoors right after your pilates session, applying a broad-spectrum sunscreen is essential to protect your skin from harmful UV-rays. Choose a lightweight, glow-enhancing formula that leaves a dewy finish.

How to Use:

Apply generously to your face and neck, ensuring even coverage. Let it sink in for a few minutes before applying makeup, if desired.

7. Bonus: Post-Workout Facial Massage

To further enhance your post-pilates glow, consider incorporating a facial massage into your routine. This not only promotes relaxation but also improves circulation and lymphatic drainage.

How to Do It:

Using your fingers or a facial roller, gently massage your face in upward and outward motions for a few minutes. Focus on areas that hold tension, like the jawline and forehead.

Embrace Your Post-Pilates Glow!

By incorporating these steps into your post-pilates skincare routine, you’ll not only feel refreshed and rejuvenated but also radiate that coveted glow. Remember, self-care is a luxury, and treating yourself to a chic skincare ritual is the perfect way to celebrate your commitment to wellness and beauty. Embrace the glow, and let your skin shine as brightly as your spirit!