#tea growing regions
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thoughtlessarse · 5 months ago
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Extreme weather events such as floods and droughts are especially disruptive to tea production, as the crop often relies solely on rain for its water needs, with little facilities for irrigation and water processing. Heatwaves and floods have had a hugely detrimental impact on India’s tea production, with excessive heat in May followed by flooding in Assam hitting output level. As a result it's estimated that the average price of tea could rise by up to a fifth. Currently, China, India, Sri Lanka and Kenya are the biggest tea producing nations globally, accounting for about 75% of worldwide supply, according to Palais des Thes. At the time of writing, one kilogram of tea was INR 223.46 (€2.47), having risen more than 47% since the start of this year. On a year-on-year basis, tea prices have risen about 22%. In May this year, Indian tea production dropped to 90.92 million kgs, from 130.56 million kgs in May 2023. This was the lowest May figure for the country in more than 10 years. The Indian government’s decision to ban the use of 20 pesticides is also contributing heavily to increasing tea prices, as several buyers are once again buying Indian tea. Previously, a number of countries were rejecting Indian tea exports, due to the high amount of pesticides used in some varieties. Some of the key buyers of Indian tea are members of the Commonwealth of Independent States (CIS), which includes Armenia, Belarus, Azerbaijan, Kazakhstan, Georgia, Moldova, Kyrgyzstan, Tajikistan, Russia, Ukraine, Turkmenistan and Uzbekistan. Several rejections of tea exports were coming from these countries, however, following the pesticides ban, demand for Indian tea has risen once again. However, production is still suffering considerably due to this decision, with several tea growers having to scramble to find pesticide alternatives.  
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internationalteaday · 7 years ago
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Tea export earnings help to finance food import bills, supporting the economies of major tea-producing countries.
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The global tea production amounts annually to over USD 17 billion, while world tea trade is valued at about USD 9.5 billion, While little is known about the exact origin of tea, for centuries China was the only tea exporting country in the world until it faced stiff competition from India in the early 19th century. Today tea is grown in over forty countries, but the greatest teas of the world are still grown and skillfully produced by just five traditional tea growing countries, China, India, Japan, Sri Lanka and Taiwan.
China
China along with India is one of the two largest producers of tea in the world. It produces greatest variety of teas including green, black, white, yellow, oolong and pu-erh. China produces large amount of green tea, but exports only around 20-25% as the rest of it is consumed domestically. Majority of Chinese tea export include black tea. In China tea is produced over a large part of the country from Hainan Island down in the extreme south to Shandong Province in the north and from Tibet in the southwest to Taiwan across the Straits. The tea growing areas in China can be divided into four main regions- Jiangbei, Jiangnan, Linglan and the Southwest.
India 
India is one of the leading tea producers and is known for some of the best tea in the world. Over 70% of the tea produced in India is consumed within the country itself while the rest is exported. Majority of the tea produced in India is black, although there is an increasing quantity of green, white and oolong coming from the Indian tea estates now. There are three main tea growing regions in India – Darjeeling, Assam and the Nilgiris. Since there is a wide variation in their location, elevation, climatic conditions and even the tea plant used in each of these regions varying from original Chinese stock to indigenous and hybrid tea plants, it is important to know the origin of Indian teas.
Sri Lanka (Ceylon)
Sri Lanka, formerly known as Ceylon is one of the largest exporters of high quality black tea into the world tea market. Tea grown in Sri Lanka is classified into three main varieties depending on the altitude in which the plant grows. The low-grown varieties are cultivated up to 600 meters and yield a strong, dark infusion used mostly in blends; the mid-grown from 600 to 1200 meters and the high-grown, between 1200 to 2300 meters, give the best quality.
Japan
Japan is the only major tea producing country in the world to almost exclusively process only green tea, around 97% of which is consumed internally. Its three major tea-growing regions are Shizuoka, Kagoshima, and Uji. Japanese teas are prepared in three styles – pan-fired, basket-fired and natural leaf. Within these styles there are several quality levels: Bancha, Sencha and Gyokuro. The vast majority of production is the middle quality grade Sencha. In addition, there are other teas like the Matcha which is a powdered green tea used in the Japanese tea ceremonies.
Taiwan (Formosa)
Taiwan was formerly known as Formosa and so Taiwanese tea is still referred to as Formosa tea. Taiwan is famous for its Oolong although it produces green and black teas too. Tea is grown in many areas in Taiwan but the best variety comes from the higher altitudes. Some of the better known Oolongs include Dongding Oolong, Alishan Oolong, Pouchong, Shanlinxi Oolong, Jade Mountain Oolong, Dong Fang Mei Ren, Da Yu Ling Oolong, Li Shan Oolong, etc.
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najia-cooks · 3 months ago
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[ID: A Moroccan teaglass with a bundle of sage, a saucer of dried sage, a deep blue-purple teapot, and a Palestinian vase in the background. End ID]
شاي المريمية / Shay al-maryamiyya (Palestinian sage tea)
Palestinian sage is a common after-dinner beverage and digestive aid made from black tea and three-lobed wild sage (Salvia fruticosa syn. Salvia triloba L.). In the Levant, this variety of sage is known as "مَرْيَمِيَّة" ("maryamīyya") or, more dialectically, "مَرْمَرِيَّة" ("marmariyya").
Terminology and etymology
The term "maryamīyya" likely derives from the Aramaic "מרייא" ("marvā"), meaning "common sage" (Salvia officinalis). The modern form of the word in Arabic—as well as in Persian, in which "مریم گلی" ("maryam goli") is “sage” or "garden sage"—was also influenced by a folkloric association between sage and the مَرْيَم (Maryam) of the Bible (Mary, mother of Jesus). Dr. Tawfiq Kanaan, for example, says that Mary sat on a stone to rest after a walk in the hot summer sun, and used a few leaves from a sage plant to dry her forehead: this is how the plant got its pleasant scent, and why it is still named after Mary. The dialectical pronunciation "marmariyya" then arises through an assimilation of the second syllable to the first.
"Maryamīyya" is perhaps also related to the obsolete Arabic مَرْو ("marw"), meaning "fragrant herbs" [1]. This Arabic term is derived from the Aramaic מַרְוָא / ܡܲܪܘܵܐ ("marwā"), which refers to wild marjoram or za'tar (Origanum syriacum; syn. Origanum maru) and is related to words for fragrant herbage, marjoram, and grass (Ciancaglini; see also Aramäische Pflanzennamen, p. 193). The Aramaic is itself a borrowing from the southwest Middle Persian "𐭬𐭫𐭥𐭠" (transliterated: mlw'; pronounced /⁠marw⁠/) [2], which survives in several New Persian words: see for example "مرغ" ("margh"), "a species of grass of which animals are exceedingly fond"; and "مرو" ("marv"), "a fragrant herb." (Interestingly, the related Sanskrit मरुव "maruva" ultimately gives the English "marjoram" by way of Latin and Old French.)
[1] The term may also refer to the genus Maerua (to which it gives its name), and in particular the species Maerua crassifolia.
[2] See also Müller-Kessler, p. 10, and note 41 on p. 29; MacKenzie, p. 55.
Sage and Palestinian Culture
Three-lobed sage is one of the "most deeply rooted plants in the Palestinian traditional culture and ethnobotany," being the second-most-mentioned of all foraged plants (after za'tar) in a survey conducted in 2008. The connection of three-lobed sage to Maryam leads to its use in creating protective blessings at various rituals from birth until death; in the Galilee, it is burned to guard against the evil eye and to expel demons at births, weddings, and at the graves of holy people. When consumed, it is believed to help with many ailments including stomach complaints, eye diseases, and insomnia, and is used to treat livestock as well as humans.
Maryamiyya is not commonly grown as a garden herb in Palestine; rather, it is foraged from its wild range across the mountains of the West Bank, where it scents the air. Like za'atar and labna, using maryamiyya for culinary purposes is connected to Palestinian identity throughout all regions, with some people asserting that every Palestinian household must have some in stock.
Tea made with the addition of sage is perhaps the most popular herbal tea in Palestine, especially in the winter: though mint, chamomile, and aniseed are also commonly infused in water and drunk. Other varieties of sage grow in Palestine and are produced and exported by Palestinian farmers [1], but Gustaf Dalman noted in the early 20th century that three-lobed sage was the most important variety:
Of the spicy-smelling labiate flowers, which assume a significant role in the flora of Palestine, numerous sage varieties bloom in the spring. Among these the Salvia triloba, with violet flower heads on a tall shrub, is not the most colorful but is the best known, called in the north 'ēzaqān [عِيزَقَانْ] and in the south miryamīye, mēramīye thus connecting it with the Virgin Mary. (trans. Nadia Abdulhadi Sukhtian)
During the spring, sage leaves are collected and air-dried for use in tea throughout the whole year. Tea may also be made from fresh leaves, but some people consider dried to be superior. Dried maryamiyya leaves are purchased by Palestinian refugees and expatriates wherever they are. Food is thus tied to locality, memory, resistance, and terroir—a groundedness in land that considers aspects as diverse and interconnected as soil, climate, and politics. A concept of terroir in agriculture and cooking brings out how products "register[] origin and provenance."
[1] Today, the vast majority of Palestinian herb exports are to the United States, but Palestinian farmers are not able to export goods themselves—they rely on Israeli distributors and exporters, which cuts into their profits and curtails their autonomy.
Criminalizing Foraging
Ali-Shtayeh et al. noted in 2008 that the gathering of wild edible plants had been in decline in the Palestinian territories throughout preceding decades, with many young people lacking the cultural knowledge to identify and prepare wild plants. They mention several possible reasons for the decline, including an increase in intensive agriculture, improvement in national networks of roads, and the fact that some middle-aged people associate foraging with times of poverty. But we should also consider the fines, arrests, and potential imprisonment that Palestinians risk when foraging wild plants for food as a likely cause for the decline in the practice.
There are two strains of law relevant to the criminalization of foraging in "Israel" and the occupied Palestinian territories (the West Bank and Gaza: henceforth "OPT"). The first consists of primary laws which establish the right of representatives of the Israeli government to declare a plant to be a protected "natural value" (ערכי טבע), and lay out the maximum penalties people can be charged with for causing "harm" ("פג'עה") to a protected plant; the second comprises secondary declarations in the form of lists of which plants are considered protected.
The 1963 Natural Parks and Nature Reserve Law (חוק גנים לאומיים ושמורות טבע, תשכ"ג - 1963) belongs to the first strain. It empowered the Minister of Agriculture to declare a plant to be protected within "Israel," subject to the approval of a government council (ch. 5, 40-42); and declared that harming a plant was an offence punishable by up to three months' imprisonment (chapter 6).
In the text of the law, "harm" is specifically defined to include "picking," "קטיפה," and "gathering," "נטילה." No systematic distinction is established based on how much of the plant was harvested, and whether the plant was foraged for personal or commercial purposes. Nor is there any qualification of what qualities a plant should have to be considered "protected," or any obligation for the government to pursue or present scientific evidence that a given plant is overharvested.
In 1969, The Decree on the Protection of Nature (צו בדבר הגנה על הטבע) (Military Order no. 363) gave similar authority to the occupying military, and criminalized foraging in the OPT. Military orders are enforced by military courts, whereas offenders in "Israel" go through civil courts.
Several plants were already on the list of protected natural values at this time, but they were not commonly foraged for food. 1977 proved a signal year in this regard: with the "Proclamation of National Parks and Nature Reserves" [אכרזת גנים לאומיים ושמורות טבע (ערבי טבע י מוגנים), תשל״ח -1977], Minister of Agriculture Ariel Sharon (אריאל שרון) added za’tar ("אזוב מצוי") and maryamiyya ("מרוה משולשת") to the list. The inclusion of these plants, and especially za'tar, was more disastrous and insulting than previous bans on foraging had been. Za'tar, besides being a source of food and income for many poor or disabled Palestinians, has immense cultural significance in Palestine.
Arab Palestinians—and only Arabs—were arrested, fined, and even imprisoned, with no clear correspondence between the amount they had foraged and their sentencing. Most of the recorded court cases in "Israel" deal with za'tar, though court cases in legal databases show that Palestinians were also fined and tried for foraging maryamiyya (FN 38). An atmosphere of intimidation prevailed, with many habitual foragers feeling newly afraid to leave their homes.
In 1998, a new National Parks, Natural Reserves, National Sites and Memorial Sites Law [חוק גנים לאומיים, שמורות טבע, אתרים לאומיים ואתרי הנצחה, תשנ"ח-1998] replaced the prior National Parks law (of 1992, which had itself replaced the aforementioned 1963 law). It removed the necessity for an ecological council to approve the Minister's declaration of a "protected" status, and increaed the maximum prison time for a violation of the law to three years. Throughout all periods, however, the penalty usually imposed has been a fine.
Since the imposition of the harsher law, two notable updates have been made to the list of protected plants: the 2005 list of Protected Natural Assets) [אכרזת גנים לאומיים, שמורות טבע, אתרים לאומיים ואתרי הנצחה (ערכי טבע מוגנים), התשס״ה–2005] replaced the 1979 list, and added عَكُوب ('akoub; "עכובית הגלגל"), a culturally important and commonly foraged thistle. [1] Za'tar and maryamiyya remained on the list. The 2005 declaration also specifies that the species on the list are protected if they are wild, but not if they are cultivated (section 3). This provision allows Israeli farmers to profit from the farming and sale of za'tar.
The second notable update came in 2019: the Nature and Parks Authority (שרשות הטבע והגנים) announced that it would redact the absolute ban on harvesting za'tar, maramiyya, and 'akoub, instead setting a maximum allowable amount for household consumption and cracking down on the sale of these plants, rather than on foraging itself.
Activists believe this partial measure to have occurred as a result of legal and public pressure instigated by an open letter which human rights lawyer Rabea Eghbariah sent the Israeli Attorney General and Environmental Protection Minister requesting that za'tar, 'akkoub, and maryamiyya be removed from the "protected" list in advance of their foraging seasons, noting the inconsistency in sentencing and the law's disproportionate criminalization of Palestinians. (The specific cultural importance of these three plants is attested by the fact that they, among the dozens of species considered "protected," form the basis of Eghbariah's complaint.) The Nature and Parks Authority (NPA), however, insisted that an independent assessment, and not public criticism, had led them to announce the change in policy. And fines levied at Palestinian foragers did continue despite the announced change in policy, at least through March 2020.
Nor is the change complete in scope, even if it were being upheld. Eghbariah notes that "It is not yet clear if the change will also apply [in the West Bank] - and there it is a parallel system, less transparent and much more predatory. The enforcement is much worse, including the confiscation of cars, and the judgment is in a military court. We will continue to monitor."
[1] Eghbariah writes that the "Protected Natural Values Declaration (Amendment No. 2) (Judea and Samaria), 1978" added za'tar and maramiyya to the list in the OPT, and the "Protected Natural Values Declaration (Amendment No. 2) (Judea and Samaria), 2004" added 'akoub. I have been unable to find or independently verify the text of either declaration. From a list of secondary legislation related to military orders, I believe the declaration being amended is "הכרזה בדבר ערכי טבע מוגנים (יהודה והשומרון), התשל"ג - 1973".
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[ID: Light shone through a blue glass vase is cast over the bundle of sage and glass of tea. End ID]
"Preservation" and Green Colonialism
Of course, Palestinians and activists also suspect that the underlying purpose of the ban is to starve and intimidate Palestinians, rather than any real concern with nature. Israeli botanist Nativ Dudai points out that foraging causes much less harm to these plants than Israeli bulldozers do. Samir Naamneh, who sells foraged produce, also dismisses the environmentalist excuse for the ban on foraging:
We feel, and we know, and we’re sure, that the laws are made, on principle, against the Arab residents of the country, to hurt their livelihoods. It’s part of the pressure that Israel puts on us to starve us out.
The 1977 decision to add za'tar and maryamiyya to the protected plants list was ostensibly taken in accordance with a report submitted by a group of Israeli ecologists, which suggested that the species were in danger due to over-foraging. However, Israeli forager Yatir Sade (יתיר שדה) suggests that the converse may be true, and that the people who wrote the report might have taken their cues from the government.
On June 20, 1977, the inauguration of the Begin (בגין) Cabinet marked the first time that a right-wing party had held a majority in the Knesset; this dramatic change in Israeli politics would come to be called "המהפך" ("HaMahapakh"), "the revolution" or "the upheaval."
Sade's research reveals that, about a week later, on June 27, 1977, a team of ecologists at the NPA submitted a list of species to the Legal Bureau at the Ministry of Agriculture (משרד החקלאות), suggesting that they be declared protected. The list is accompanied by a letter of legal advice signed by a partner in the law firm Reva, Shein, Katz & Co. This initial suggested list did not include four species which would end up on the final 1977 list, all of them important culinary and medicinal herbs among Palestinians and Bedouin Arabs: babonj (בבונג / بابونج / golden chamomile), maryamiyya, za'tar, and ss'atr barriyy (صعتر بري / קורנית מקורקפת / Persian hyssop). [1]
But about four months later, on October 16, another letter was sent on behalf of the same law firm, requesting that these four species be added to the "protected" list, and that the standard procedure for adding them be expedited. Accordingly, on November 2, only a few days after receiving the letter, the Minister's office published the final declaration, with golden chamomile, maryamiyya, za'tar, and Persian hyssop newly added. The new Minister of Agriculture Ariel Sharon (אריאל שרון), part of the First Begin Cabinet and co-founder, with Menachem Begin, of the right-wing party HaLikud (הליכוד), signed the new declaration. It therefore seems likely that these plants were added to the list for political reasons and precisely because of their importance to Palestinian Arabs, rather than from any ecological concern.
It is also relevant that the 1963 and 1998 laws which criminalized foraging also laid out guidelines for the creation of national parks, nature reserves, and military and state memorial land. The text of the 1998 law, in particular, describes the goals behind creating these sites, and gives the council it establishes the authority to do anything necessary to promote those goals. These goals include to "protect natural and heritage sites" ("הגן על ערכי הטבע והמורשת"); to "maintain international scientific relations" in the field of nature conservation ("קיים קשרים מדעיים בין-לאומיים") ; to promote education about conservation among youth and students (7. (א)); and to promote travel and tourism (14. (א)).
Many discourses and strategies can here be seen operating together. The creation of nature reserves, state heritage sites, and military memorial land all within the text of the same law explicitly connects environmentalism to patriotism; creates special reasons for bringing land under state control, and imposing special codes of behavior on this land (i.e., natural and heritage sites); connects environmentalism to state ownership and control of land, and connects both to the education of youth and the creation of the ideal Israeli civic subject; uses environmentalism to promote Israel internationally as a scientific authority, a responsible steward of land (unlike the indigenous population), and thus a legitimate state; and sanitizes and 'advertizes' Israel internationally by associating sites of destruction, annexation, and ethnic cleansing with the concepts of environmental protection, natural beauty, preservation, and heritage.
Israel frequently declares land a "nature reserve" as a method of annexation, only to later build settlements on it (see Karimi-Schmidt p. 369 ff). Palestinians are forbidden from foraging certain plants within nature reserves (other plants are forbidden for foraging everywhere), and from constructing on them; they are thus alienated from this land, and dissociated from the ways in which they have long related to it. Yatir Sade points out that the four plants added to the original 1977 draft of the protected species list are typically harvested out in open areas, rather than within yards and villages; declaring these areas nature reserves, or arresting Arabs who enter them under suspicion of foraging, prevents Palestinians from moving freely, and from claiming any connection to the land. [3]
The "Green Patrol" (HaSayeret HaYeruka / הסיירת הירוקה), the enforcement unit for the NPA, was founded in 1976 by then-Minister of Agriculture Aharon Ozan and director of the Israel Land Administration Meir Zore, for the specific purpose of policing "open areas" (שטחים פתוחים) which had been declared state land, and preventing Palestinians from "tresspassing" ("הסגות גבול") or illegally building in these areas. [4] Through these strategies, land is appropriated for the state's and settlers' purposes under the guise of environmentalism.
In much the same way, the list of protected species is ultimately about using environmental science to cement state authority. Irus Braverman points out that endangered species lists function as a means of regulation, not least by being ostensibly objective: "their global power, mobility, and ubiquity derive from their configuration as scientific, technical, and quantitative, and therefore as neutral and apolitical." The protected species list thus joins other "environmental infrastructures," such as renewable energy and agricultural technologies, as a "mechanism[] for land appropriation and dispossession" of the indigenous population: together, these infrastructures make up a strategy that is alternately called greenwashing, green grabbing, and green colonialism.
[1] Letter regarding the declaration of national parks and nature reserves (protected natural values), 1977, from Ofir Katz to Tovi R. [מכתב בנושא אכרזת גנים לאומיים ושמורות טבע (ערכי טבע מוגנים) תשל"ז-1977, מאופיר כץ לטובי ר'], 6/27/1977. In: Proclamation of National Parks and Nature Reserves (Protected Natural Values), Ministry of Agriculture and Rural Development [אכרזת גנים לאומיים ושמורות טבע (ערכי טבע מוגנים), משרד החקלאות ופיתוח הכפר], January 1965–October 1982. State Archives, ISA-moag-moag-00119qy, pp. 164-175.
[2] Letter regarding a proposal to declare national parks and nature reserves (protected natural values), 1977, from Ofir Katz to Tovi R., [מכתב בנושא הצעה לאכרזת גנים לאומיים ושמורות טבע (ערכי טבע מוגנים) תשל"ז-1977] 10/24/1977. In: Proclamation of National Parks and Nature Reserves (Protected Natural Values), Ministry of Agriculture and Rural Development, January 1965–October 1982. State Archives, ISA-moag-moag-00119qy, p. 160.
[3] Yatir Sade, Master's thesis, pp. 68-9. Personal communication.
[4] Sade points out that Yehuda Reva (יהודה רווה), another partner of the law firm that provided legal advice on the matter of the 1977 protected species list, was also prominent in helping the Green Patrol expropriate Palestinian land and property within the bounds of Israeli law (Master's thesis, p. 44, FN 34).
Foraging and Food Sovereignty
The disastrous effect of these strategies and regulations should not be understated—but nor should their power to control Palestinians' behavior be overstated. Palestinians reference specific plants in writing and in art (including ceramics and tatreez), bring dried herbs to family members abroad, purchase or grow important culinary plants wherever they live in the diaspora, and continue to forage plants despite harassment and the risk of fines and arrest. Plants are an important way of symbolizing, and of practicing, resistance, resilience, and rootedness in history and in the land.
Foraging can be a strategy of reconnection in defiance of dispossession. Rochelle Davis notes that Palestinians often visit the villages from which they were displaced in order to gather grape leaves and herbs, “ingesting the place by consuming the land’s produce” (p. 172). Through this practice, as Anne Meneley puts it, "[e]ating becomes an act of momentary repossession."
The message boards on PalestineRemembered.com attest to this practice. When Mouttaz Ammoura returned to الطيرة (Al-Tira), the village from which his family was displaced, he noted maramiyya as the one plant he brought back with him:
Now I live in Canada, but far-away from AL-TIRA. When I came back, I brought with me some sand, maramieh, few stones, & water from Tirat Haifa. Yes, I brought all of that to remember al-Tira & to have it close to my hart back in Canada.
In an interview conducted in a Palestinian refugee camp in 1998, women demonstrate this same association of plant life with place:
They spoke of the names of land plots around ~ Tjzim (Wadi al-Nahel, Durat al-Qamar, Shana), and the act of naming evoked an aura of magic for those who remembered the places [...]. They also related to the wild plants. The women, who felt we had shifted to familiar ground, called out the names — khubeize (mallow), ‘aqub (tumble thistle), maramiyyeh (sage), za’atar (thyme).
Mirna Bamieh's Palestine Hosting Society put on an Edible Wild Plants Table, which registered the connection of foraging to place, local knowledge, and temporality. The project, which focused on "identifying the names, forms, locations and availability of wild plants in Palestine’s nature," involved a menu created from foraging in the mountainous regions of Palestine during the blooming season "from mid-January until the end of February."
Foraging is also one strategy among many that Palestinians use—alongside instituting agricultural innovations, creating native seed banks, educating about Palestinian cuisine, and seeking out contracts with foreign markets—to attain food self-sufficiency and sovereignty. It is therefore both a symbolically defiant strategy, and a practical one. Palestinians illustrate a belief in the illegitimacy of Israel's laws and claims, and insist on the primacy of their relationship to the land, when they forage for food.
When asked whether he believed that 2020 would bring the promised relaxation in criminalization of foragers, Samir Naamneh, who has been repeatedly fined, arrested, and tried over the past decades, told Dror Foyer (דרור פויר):
"We'll live and see, but it won't change anything for me: whether it's allowed or not, I'm going to forage. I do the work I love, and I'm at peace with myself. The fact that I'm making a statement to the State of Israel and their law—that's enough for me."
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Palestinian heirloom seeds
Ingredients:
250g filtered water
2.5g (1 1/2 tsp) high-quality loose leaf black tea
4g (1 1/2 Tbsp) dried three-lobed sage, or substitute another variety of sage
Sugar, to taste (optional)
Dried three-lobed sage can be purchased from a Palestinian brand such as Al-'Ard or Yaffa (not "Jaffa").
Instructions:
1. Combine tea with just-boiled water and steep for two minutes.
2. Add sage and steep for another minute.
3. Pour into tea glasses and serve hot.
Times and quantities are geared towards producing a tea that is mild enough to be enjoyed without sugar. Adjust as per preference.
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theinnerunderrain · 7 months ago
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"Venus, planet of love was destroyed by global warming" [Yandere! Emperor x Fem! Princess Reader x Yandere! Empress]
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Warnings/tags : Yandere themes, mentions of war and violence, minor character death, historical, coercion, suggestive themes.
Notes: I might write a part 2 for this but it'll be a lot darker and have more suggestive (adult) themes!
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The Empress of the Solis Imperium was renowned as the most noble woman on the entire continent.
As a mere princess from a neighboring region, you had the privilege of catching sight of the empress at a few royal occasions. A single meeting was all it took for you to deem her the most noble woman you had ever encountered. Every step she took, every breath she drew, every movement she made exuded nothing but elegance. She was a true epitome of beauty. You were a mere whisper of a presence from a distant land, with no power or wealth to rival hers. So, it was almost inevitable when the Solis Imperium chose to seize your country, the invasion heralded by the clash of swords and gunfire under the dreary cover of a rainy dawn. Startled from sleep, your mother hastily draped an overcoat over your nightgown, her urgent gestures propelling you down the dimly lit hallway.
As you followed closely behind your mother, shouts echoed around you, growing louder with each step. Suddenly, a deafening gunshot pierced the air, and you watched in horror as blood began to seep from your mother's back.
Her startled scream filled the hallway as she crumpled to the floor. Dropping to her side, you tried desperately to help, but before you could do anything, imperial knights caught up to you. Their strong grip tore you away from your wailing mother. You couldn't remember what happened next, only seeing another soldier approach her before darkness enveloped you, the last sound echoing in your mind being your mother's cries.
Upon waking, expecting to find yourself in a dark dungeon surrounded by eerie creatures and chains weighing down your wrists, you were instead greeted by the comfort of a soft bed and the sensation of clean, new clothes against your skin. A maid stood beside your bed, busily preparing a warm cup of tea. As she noticed you were awake, she turned to you with a gentle smile, her expression tender and welcoming.
"Ah, you're awake," she exclaimed softly, a look of relief crossing her face. "I was worried, as the young miss has been asleep for a few days now."
You tried to reply but only managed a soft cough, prompting the maid to hand you the cup of tea. You hesitated, staring at the warm liquid, its bright orange hue inviting yet unfamiliar. Taking a cautious sip, you were pleasantly surprised by its flavor—a delightful blend of grapefruit with a hint of honey.
"It must be delicious! It was recommended by the empress, after all," the maid remarked with a smile, her eyes bright with anticipation of your reaction. You nodded in response, taking another sip and feeling the warmth of the tea soothing your sore throat.
The maid continued speaking, her voice gentle yet urgent. "Ah, perhaps I shouldn't be distracting you so much. Please wait here; I must inform the empress." With that, she hurried out of the room, leaving you alone once more with your thoughts and the weight of the news you had just received.
Before you could stop her to ask more questions, the maid hurriedly left the room, leaving you alone with your thoughts. You stared at the now empty cup of tea, trying to process everything that had just occurred. A war had broken out, your kingdom invaded, your mother attacked, and an imperial knight had apprehended you. Your family, your people, your knights—all gone. They were gone, gone, gone. Your stomach twisted at the thoughts, a wave of nausea rising as if you were about to vomit. Dropping the empty cup of tea into your lap, you buried your head in your hands, overwhelmed by the realization that you might be the only one left alive. The weight of survivor's guilt bore down on you as you thought, "I should have died too."
As the door creaked open, you were startled from your reverie, looking up to behold the empress entering the room. Your eyes widened in awe, but you swiftly composed yourself, offering a slight bow despite your bedridden state.
"Ah, you're awake. I was quite worried for you," the empress remarked, gracefully making her way to sit beside your bed. Her smile was soft yet elegant, accentuating her features. Her mahogany blonde hair was artfully pinned behind her ears, and she was dressed in a flowing pastel gown that emphasized her regal presence. Her piercing blue eyes, filled with concern yet there was an oddness of madness behind them, met yours, and you felt a wave of reassurance wash over you in her presence.
"It must have been shocking to awaken to such violence. I offer my sincere apologies for the loss of your kingdom and family," the empress continued, her voice filled with genuine sympathy.
You couldn't help but feel a wave of sickness wash over you, knowing that she was partially responsible for the decision to invade your land. Despite this, you remained silent, listening to her words. She reached out and gently took hold of your hands, her fingers adorned with a silky white glove.
"Yet, you are still a princess, and we cannot simply discard you like an expendable commoner," the empress said, her tone laced with a mixture of sympathy and detachment.
You wanted to scoff at the irony of her words, to scream and claw at her flawless facade. Her excuses and lies flowed effortlessly, masking the truth with each elegant syllable. If her words held any weight, they would have spared your elder brother, who possessed far more knowledge and capability than you. Yet, they chose to spare you, knowing you lacked the charm, power, or influence to pose any threat.
"Given your tender age, my husband—or the emperor, in this case—has decided to position you as a concubine. Doesn't that sound wonderful?" she asked, her voice laced with a deceptive sweetness. As her thumb tenderly stroked against your palm, the scent of roses invaded your senses.
"Your only responsibility is to produce an heir. Many do not know this, but it is difficult for the emperor and me to conceive."
Your mouth instantly went dry at her words, and you stared at her with wide eyes, your lips parting slightly in disbelief. Yet, her expression remained sweet and unchanging, despite your obvious discomfort.
"Haha, don't stare at me like that. You're acting as if we're sending you to war," she teased, reaching to push a stray strand of hair behind your ear. A wave of heat washed over you, beads of sweat forming on your forehead, contrasting with the empress's cold hand against your skin. Your head began to throb, and your limbs felt heavy and weak.
"Ah, the tea must be setting in now," the empress commented, her tone nonchalant as she observed your discomfort.
The tea? The tea that the maid had served you earlier. You realized, with a sinking feeling, that it must have been laced with something to induce this sudden weakness and disorientation. Panic began to rise within you as you struggled to maintain consciousness, your thoughts racing as you tried to make sense of the situation. The empress gently pushed you back onto the bed until your head rested against the pillow. As she stood up, her beautiful face left a lasting impression in your blurry vision.
"Rest up now, my dear. You have many long days ahead of you," she said, her voice fading as darkness overtook your senses, and you slipped into unconsciousness.
-
Upon awakening, the gravity of the empress's words became apparent. You were swiftly ushered into a bath, attended by servants who scrubbed your skin and combed your hair with oils. Their ministrations were firm yet gentle, leaving no marks but providing a discomfort that hinted at the magnitude of your new reality. After the bath, you were clothed in a dress of beige hue, its fabric exquisite and embellished with intricate floral patterns and delicate frills. It was a garment of elegance and refinement, a stark contrast to the simple attire of your past, serving as a poignant symbol of the profound changes in your life.
After the servants had prepared you, you were ushered into a grand dining hall to have breakfast with the empress and emperor. You were seated directly across from the empress, her forever sweet smile lighting up the room, while the emperor sat at the head of the table. A lavish spread awaited you, with stacks of food including soup, bread, chicken, and vibrant fruits laid out before you. However, your attention was drawn to the two rulers. It was your first time being in such close proximity to the emperor. In contrast to the empress, his hair was as dark as the night, and his eyes were a soft shade of teal, giving him a more reserved and colder aura compared to the warm presence of the empress. He appeared to be five or six years older than the empress, meaning he was approximately ten years older than you, nearing his forties.
"Princess [First Name]."
The resonant timbre of the emperor's voice momentarily broke your reverie, prompting you to look up at him, your hands instinctively fidgeting with your dress beneath the table.
"I apologize for the delayed greeting, as my duties have demanded much of my time," he began, his tone measured and formal. "Allow me to express my deepest condolences for the tragedy that befell your land. May your family rest in peace."
His words, though seemingly sincere, lacked the warmth and empathy that would have provided true solace. It was evident that his expression of sympathy was more a matter of protocol than genuine compassion for the plight of your small nation. You forced a smile, though it failed to reach the corners of your eyes.
"Ah, thank you so much for your kindness and sincerity," you replied, the words tasting bitter on your tongue.
You thanked them, though it was for nothing. Certainly not for the loss of your family and people. Not for the seizure of your land and the imposition of a life that felt like being a doll in the hands of a capricious child. The emperor nodded at your words before continuing, delicately cutting into a piece of chicken with a silver fork that appeared to be worth a small fortune.
"You are most welcome. I trust that the empress has explained your duties here within our nation?"
"Yes.."
You replied with a hint of hesitation, savoring a sip of the soup before you. Its delightful flavors and comforting warmth brought to mind the soups your mother used to lovingly prepare for you during times of illness. The emperor appeared pleased with your response, his gaze thoughtful as he studied your face. A small, knowing smile graced his lips before he nodded in acknowledgment.
"Excellent. Then you'll be well prepared for what lies ahead," he remarked, his tone carrying a sense of reassurance or you had hope for it to be reassurance. As he reclined in his chair, the empress's smile remained fixed upon you. Despite your efforts, you couldn't help but feel a tinge of worry seep down your spine as you tried to decipher their expressions, hoping to unveil the true emotions hidden behind their masks. However, their faces revealed no clues, leaving you with a sense of uncertainty.
"We are excited to welcome you. Your duties will officially begin today."
Perhaps this new chapter wouldn't be as dreadful as you had imagined. Maybe, if you were to make a mistake, it would hasten your reunion with your family. On the other hand, serving the emperor and empress might not be so terrible.
At least, that's what you hoped.
However, a strange feeling began to form at the pit of your stomach, planting seeds of doubt within you.
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lovelyyandereaddictionpoint · 8 months ago
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Hello, Can I request yandere (idia, malleus, Leona and riddle)?
With a raiden shogun! Reader?
(You can skip this if you want) :)
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Raiden Shogun Reader | Yandere Twisted Wonderland
An electro archon in an indestructible body being transported to a world so different from your own. Not to forget you subjected your own people to plenty of strife because of your overprotectiveness. Of course it’s doubtful that no one gets hurt or there isn’t some blood shed. But when you calm the others in Twisted Wonderland can’t help but want to return the favor for you:
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Idia Shroud 
“Whoa the electrical power that comes off you is astounding!”
“I’d hope so I am the electro archon after all.”
“Probably explains the jolts I get when you touch me.”
“Excuse me?”
“Nothing!”
Thinks this is perfect
Using your power to be a battery for his inventions
But that’s just a cover up 
In truth he’s been enamored since you’ve arrived with your polearm 
Plus you’re regalness just makes him want to serve
Of course being servant doesn’t mean killing rivals for your attention but he doesn’t mind working up to it
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Riddle Rosehearts
“So you are the leader of an entire region?”
“I am. And for a long time I ruled similar to you.”
“I see…would you like to discuss what our…people are like, over tea?”
“I would like that.”
From ruler to another you two are meant to be together
Growing from such major events to become better rulers
You work perfectly together
Now he may not have a rebellion to squash but he’s aware reprimanding his subordinates is important
He’ll make sure to smite any kind of attraction to you 
That’s reserved for him
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allfearstofallto · 9 months ago
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Dandelion Wine
Yandere! Scaramouche x Fem! Reader x Yandere(?) Childe
Forced Marriage AU
Word Count: 4.1k
Synopsis: No crush is simply harmless when married to Scaramouche, but what he doesn't know won't hurt him. And what he doesn't see won't affect him, so what's the harm in putting on a little show?
TW: Yandere, obsessive themes, forced marriage, mentions of abuse/violence/punishment, reader mentions dissociating during sex, dub-con, unprotected sex, finishing inside, voyeurism, infidelity, masturbation (m. & f.)
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Scaramouche believed that dinner should be eaten in silence with only the sound of the silverware and plates clattering. Hence why he rarely spoke at the table. He also believed that the same morals he applied to himself, were for you as well. Your sweet, plump lips that he kissed and sucked constantly, were to be shut and devoid of noises, only eating during meal times. The food that was prepared was meant to be savored, every bite of it tasted and appreciated. Because of that, dinners felt long, quiet, and worst of all, extremely tense.
The only times things were different, was when Childe came to visit. Number eleven as your husband called him, and Ajax as the orange haired man insisted he wanted you to refer to him as. His cheeky smile and big, blue eyes practically lit up the room, he was practically the epitome of visual charisma. And there was his incessant chatter, Scaramouche would say, his non stop talking about something or other. You never had the heart to tell the man you married that Childe actually talked a normal amount and that he was abnormally quiet.
“Have you ever seen a piece of mora straight from Liyue,” he asked rather loudly while holding up the coin, “Shiniest you'll ever see one. Man, those Liyue natives have no idea how lucky they are!”
You smiled alongside the man, also finding the topic interesting. The coin was indeed shiny, the only impurities on it being the fingerprints from Childe's hands. Other than that, it glimmered, making you realize how old and dirty the mora you must've had before was. Scaramouche wasn't impressed at all. He wasn't even paying attention. Quietly sipping his miso soup at the head of the table, his eyes only focused on his meal.
“Want it?” Childe asked you and you tried not to perk up too much, but your excitement was palpable. Seldom did Scaramouche entertain you with conversation or fun gifts. The only thing he'd bring you back from his travels was a single flower and maybe a regional tea to try together, but nothing you typically enjoyed.
“May I take it, my lord?” Pleading eyes looked at your husband who seemed more irritated than usual.
He let out a sigh, dropping his chopsticks in frustration, “Will it make the both of you shut up?”
Harsh words were nothing new to you, but you had to admit that those eyes of his made you freeze up like stone. No matter how many days you spent married to him, you never grew less afraid of your husband. And you definitely never found yourself coming to love him.
“Yes, my lord,”
He nodded to Childe and the coin was dropped into your hand. You held it as if it were fragile, not wanting to stain the shiny metal anymore than it already was. Your lips formed into a weak smile that you gave to Childe, then another one to Scaramouche who merely nodded at your display of joy, seemingly disinterested.
His chopsticks were picked up, a sign that he wished for dinner to continue on. You picked up yours as well. Your months of living with your spouse meant you had plenty of time to practice. Little leeway was given to you when it came to what you ate with, and despite the fact that you were originally from Mondstadt, you were given chopsticks with every meal. Time and practice made you grow accustomed to them, that and the fact that Scaramouche wouldn't allow you to eat with anything else. Learn to eat with them or starve, he told you. And you did grow terribly hungry.
Childe was more of a special case. He apparently lacked dexterity in hands. You saw it in the way he struggled to use the bow he was hell bent on learning and in the way he struggled to use chopsticks. Throughout the course of the meal, he'd already dropped three pairs, fumbling them dramatically like a character in a comedy play. Each time he'd lose a pair to gravity, leaving the wooden sticks on the floor, he'd look at his barely touched meal. The tragic, almost hopeless look on his face would elicit a laugh from you, followed by Scaramouche shooting you a very knowing glare. He'd sent you to your room without dinner many times before and for much less. Those glares were a good warning to shut up.
“Man! I can't seem to figure out how you eat with these things,” the orange haired male was holding one stick in either hand, instead using them to stab through the food and bring it to his lips. You held back your laughter again, instead forcing yourself to swallow more of your meal.
You had a crush on Childe. Maybe it was because of how kind he actually was or maybe it was because he was the only man you'd seen outside of your lawful husband in a year, but you did like him. He was funny, strong, and most importantly very attractive. Blue eyes and orange hair, a smile that could make a girl swoon with perfectly straight, white teeth. His voice was sultry, smooth like fine dark liquor, but he also knew when to be funny. His sense of humor was more comical to you than Scaramouche's dry humor or snide remarks. You liked Childe. Way more than you wanted to admit.
After dinner was a free time for you. From the time the plates were clean, until it was time for you to go to bed, you were allowed to wander the manor and do what you want. During this period, Scaramouche would be off doing what he pleased. Typically leaving the house to enjoy his night walks, where he'd be gone for hours. It was truly your only time of peace in hell he called home. It was also the only time you could talk to Childe when he came to visit. The two of you would spend the hours just telling each other whatever, it was mostly just you listening to him tell of his travels across all seven nations as you longed for the perceived freedom he had.
Much to your dismay he was nowhere to be found after dinner. You felt stupid searching the house looking for him. The interest towards him was likely one sided and on the slim chance it wasn't, you knew that nothing would happen between the two of you. Yet you looked for him. He was still good for conversation.
Find him you did, at the end of the second floor hallway, but not in the way you thought you would. Steam clouded around the door as he exited the bathroom, a towel was wrapped around his hips, orange pubic hair peeking out from it. His bare chest was covered in scarring, some old and healed, some visibly fresh. His skin was still moist with bathwater, his hair clinging to his face and dripping more down on him. He looked like a piece of art, a statue standing at the end of the hall, toweling his hair with his eyes closed. But then they opened.
You tried to turn on your heels and walk away before he spotted you gawking at him, but quick reflexes were expected of a harbinger. He saw you before you could even manage to take one step back.
“Oi! I was looking for you!” He called, stopping you in your tracks. You did everything in your power to avoid looking at him. That toned, firm body of his was practically begging you to gaze upon it.
“Please find me again when you're more decent, Lord Childe,”
He immediately recognized the forced stiffness of your words and scoffed, a look of disbelief forming on his features, “Since when do you refer to me as Lord, huh?” he was still smiling. Despite his undress, he wasn't the least bit shy.
Your mind shifted to your husband. Unwilling of a bride as you might have been, he made sure you were fully committed to him. He once commented on how much you smiled at his fellow harbinger and your blood went cold. Of course he noticed. Scaramouche was nonchalant, quietly observing everything around him, but he wasn't stupid. You know better than to think your little crush was well hidden, he was just giving you a warning in advance.
“I think we should start being more professional around each other,” you strained the words out, watching his face fall from his normal smile. It felt painful saying these things to him, but it was better for your safety and his.
“So we're not having our talks anymore?” He whined cutely, even pouting his lips a little, “I was looking forward to telling you about my stay in Mondstadt,” it was as if he knew exactly how to hold your attention. Lingering on every single syllable to make sure you knew he was speaking of your home, convincing your already weak will to falter, “and the wine I brought with me.” If he had you on his hook by mentioning Mondstadt, then the notion that he'd brought wine with you was all he needed to reel you in.
Hailing from the city of freedom, you were no stranger to a good drink. You remembered your first glass better than you remembered most things even your first kiss. Your first drink was like a rite of passage for Mondstadt and typically, the first liquor you tasted, became your vice. You were no different than your mother or your grandmother, the drink handed down from generation to generation, and your fondness was felt for dandelion wine. A sweet delicacy only found in the city of freedom, an unassuming drink that'd knock you flat on your ass if you didn't take it seriously enough.
But Scaramouche wasn't a fan of sweet things. He wasn't a fan of much, seeing as very little could even get a smile from him, but he had a special hatred in his heart for anything sugary. His taste leaned more towards the bitter, which was like hell for you.
Sake was never your drink of choice. There was plenty of it in Mondstadt, if there was one thing that your city could do right, it was import drinks from all over Teyvat. But just because it was there, didn't mean you ever drank it. Sake was a drink that tasted wrong to you. The harsh, bitter flavor left a terrible feeling inside your mouth that wouldn't leave no matter how much you tried. So of course, it was the favorite of Scaramouche. The disgusting taste matched his disgusting personality. And when you were permitted to drink, which was rare, you were given sake.
“Dandelion?” You questioned hopefully.
“Dandelion,” he affirmed. He was still using his hands to hold his towels, instead using his head to gesture to his room door, telling you to follow him inside. And you did.
You were tense as you sat down on his bed. Tense when you were handed a cup and told to hold it while you waited for him. Tense as he stepped into his closet to dress himself, still coming out in only pants, but no shirt, telling you that his hair was still wet to wear one. But all that tension melted away when he pulled that familiar green bottle from his bag, pouring you a glass of that rich, yellow wine.
The first sip took you back to your family's home. To a festival in Mondstadt, which was just one of the city's many excuses to drink more. The second took you back to a bar you favored, drinking competitions were held through the night, you always won. There was a part of you that just wanted to down the whole glass, drink it all as you'd done before and request another glass before that sweet taste ever left your tongue. But you saw that he'd only brought one bottle, you had to savor this glass.
“It's yours, if you want it,” Childe spoke softly while holding the wine up, he hadn't even poured himself a singular glass of it, “You just have to do one thing for me.”
Big, doe eyes looked up at him as you practically pleaded with him, “What?”
“Tell me how you really feel about me,”
He could've asked you to do a handstand on the roof of the house during a thunderstorm and that would've been much easier. For so long, your feelings for Childe were just thoughts. You could push them to the back of your mind and pretend they didn't exist. If they weren't real, your husband wouldn't hurt you. He wouldn't punish you. And knowing Scara's jealousy, if he knew you had feelings for another and not him, no one would be safe.
“I won't tell,” he spoke again, a gentle hand coming down and stroking his cheek. His fingers were still warm from his bath, still slightly damp to the touch, the way they cling to your face was assuring.
“I'm married,” you said, “Not just to anyone, but your superior. He's nobody that we should be toying with like this.”
“Who says I'm ‘toying’ with anyone? I wouldn't be asking if I didn't have feelings for you as well,”
Your quick beating heart stilled in your chest for a moment, you lingered on every word. Did you make it up? Did he really say what you thought he did? Silence fell over the room as you contemplated what he said. If he liked you as well, he never showed it. Yet, he'd have no way to. Scaramouche seemed to be around every corner.
“I…like you,” saying the words solidified it. His hair, his smile, his voice, even the way he smelled, you liked it all.
You liked him so much you let him place the bottle of wine in your hands. You let him lean over and place a hand on your shoulder, so close to your face his still dripping hair was wetting your forehead. You let his nose brush against yours, you let him sigh against your lips, you let him close the distance between the two of you and sink into a kiss.
Your mind was a blank, empty room as you kissed Childe. You really kissed him. Kisses with Scaramouche felt like he was trying to swallow you whole, trying to own you, not cherish you. But Childe's admittedly cold, chapped lips were caressing yours. His hand that managed to slither around your waist, holding you like he didn't want to let you go, his other hand squeezing your chest. You wondered if he could feel your heart beating. If he could, you wanted his to be beating the same way.
A bell made you break away from the kiss with a gasp like you were about to be killed. Because you were. That wasn't just any bell. It was the chime of the bell above the main door. The one that signified that it was opening. The one that meant Scaramouche was home.
Biting back the urge to throw up, you tossed the wine on his bed and raced from the room. You didn't want to look back at Childe once. Not after the mistake you'd made with him. Lust was clouding your mind, it had to be keeping you from thinking properly. That was the only excuse you could make while you cursed yourself mentally, simultaneously begging that he wasn't aware of what you'd done.
At the foot of the stairs, his large hat still on his head and a grimace on his face, was Scaramouche. His indigo eyes looked you up and down, noticing the way you trembled and panted like you’d run a marathon.
“Where were you?” He asked, tossing his hat to the side. It fell to the floor with a clatter and was easily ignored by him, “Have you forgotten your duties? You know when I'm supposed to be home.”
“I apologize, my lord!” You tried to stop your voice from shaking.
“Well?”
You looked at him dumbfounded as he walked past you up the stairs.
“Aren't you going to tell me why you were late and huffing like a fool at that?”
“I fell asleep, my lord. And once I noticed I was behind, I raced to try to meet you at the door, but it appears I was too late,”
A mere hum from him was your response. Which was good enough, it meant he had nothing harsh to say. As the two of you entered the privacy of your room together, you felt him hug you from behind. Little did he touch you meaninglessly, which meant he wanted to go farther, his soft lips kissing the back of your neck told you enough.
“I'm only so hard on you because I care about you,” he whispered into your ear. Him being sweet you felt worse knowing what you did with Childe just a few short moments earlier.
But still, you ended up lying back on the bed, naked and nestled in the mountain of pillows. Scaramouche thrusting into your hole above you, eyes clenched shut in pleasure. He was fucking you into a mating press, your knees against your chest, causing you to only take shallow breaths. It was a personal favorite of his since it meant he could sink every inch of his cock into you, while still watching your face.
You kept silent as he fucked you, only letting out a few gasps or whines as he hit particularly sensitive spots inside you or thrusted too deep. You didn't enjoy sex with him, it was always something you didn't want, and he wasn't going to make you pretend. Scaramouche was going to do it with you regardless, it was about his own pleasure.
During the act you'd normally be lost in your own world, trying to pay attention to anything, but the way he was rutting his hips into you, it made the time go by quicker. The closet, the clock on the wall, the way the bed squeaked, the crack in the door. The crack in the door where Childe stood, watching in the darkness of the hallway.
It took you a moment to realize what you were seeing and you had to convince yourself still that you weren't imagining it. Orange hair, deep, blue eyes, shirtless and strangely with a tent growing in his pants. Childe stood in the doorway watching, out of view of Scaramouche who either had his eyes closed or stayed focusing on your face.
You went to cover yourself, but realized that that would draw your husband's attention to the other man. You couldn't say anything, not without fear of Childe getting hurt in the process. You felt scared, neverous, a little violated, but when you saw him slide a large hand down and palm his growing length through the fabric of his pants, you began to feel almost aroused.
Sick. Sick in the head, you called yourself mentally as your eyes stayed focused on the man watching from the hallway. But you still placed your hands on your breasts, tweaking your nipples and mewling out softly. You didn't know what came over you to make you do such a thing, but knowing that Childe could see you made you want to do more than just lie there. Scaramouche was immediately surprised by you making any noise of pleasure at all and quickened his already brutal pace. But it felt good for once. It felt nice. You could feel yourself growing wetter, your cunt finally sucking him in and welcoming him.
“You're rather receptive tonight,” he grunted out with a smirk and you resisted the urge to roll your eyes at his confidence.
“I…I suppose it feels better than usual, my lord,” you locked eyes with him, until he clenched his shut from the pleasure once more. Then you looked back at Childe. He'd long since freed his cock from his pants, stroking his long thick length. It was big. That was all you could think as you watched him, how you wished that it was his big cock inside of you, but you could pretend. Pretend that it was him on top of you instead of your husband.
Mewling and moaning louder than you ever had before, making noises you didn't even know you could, your legs were pressed harder against your chest, opening yourself up for him to go even deeper. You were dripping at this point, your wetness sliding down to your ass. But Childe was dripping as well. His cock was leaking precum, coating his hand in a lube that he was using to stroke himself at the same pace that Scara was going inside you.
“Ah! Yes….yes! Fuck me harder!” You'd never begged for more like this before, but who was he to question it, he'd never know that your cries were for another. He was enjoying how wet you felt around him, how you were moving your hips to match his pace inside you. He merely panted and did as he was told, his cock thrusting into you in deep, long, hard, strokes, each one having you see stars.
“I'm finishing inside, my love,” he cooed, pressing a kiss against your lips. You nodded, locking your legs around his hips. A move you'd never done in all the times he'd slept with you and something that made him gasp out in pleasure.
It only took a few more thrusts before he held his cock balls deep inside you, you could feel the length twitching as he filled you with seed. Each shot of his hot ejaculate hitting your walls and making your whimper. Light kisses were pressed against your forehead as the two of you were locked together. His cum and your honeyed wetness dripping from your hole.
When he pulled out, you kept your legs up a little longer, making sure Ajax saw every drop of his cum dripping from you. Your still needy twitching cunt, filled with a load, your delicate fingers rubbing your clit in slow circles while he watched. Your soft gasps and pants, trying not to draw Scara's attention while he was cleaning himself up in the connected bathroom. Both of you, putting on a show for each other. Him stroking his length from the base to the tip slowly, extenuating every inch and you dipping your fingers into your filled hole.
He continued jerking his cock while he watched you, nothing was said or spoken between you two, but your eyes conversated enough. This was pure desire. It was need. And when you came, it was for him. Your hips stuttered and bucked off the bed, toes curling almost painfully.
Childe came with you. Watching you finish while looking at him was more than enough. His hand was pressed against the door, scratching at the wood, begging to be let in so he could finish inside you as well, like he knew you wanted him to. But he didn't. His cock sprayed rope after rope of cum onto the floor of the hallway in front of him. His toned chest heaving as he watched himself make this mess.
You longed to lick it up, not just the cum, but his still aching cock. You wanted to clean it with your mouth, to suck it the way your husband made you. You knew he wanted more. But Scaramouche was already out of the bathroom, a towel in hand. He began cleaning you up between your legs, eyes seeming a little softer than normal while he did. A look that wasn't normal for him.
“You did well tonight,” he praised you. Fond words you'd never heard from him before, but likely because he had no idea why you were putting on such a show.
“Thank you, my lord,” you replied sheepishly, looking back up to the crack in the doorway, Childe was gone. It was better this way though. Better that he leave now than accidentally get the attention of your husband.
“I'll think of a reward for you tomorrow, but rest for now,” the candles were blown out and he laid next to you. A protective arm was wrapped around your waist as you lay on your back, trying to regulate your heartbeat.
Realization hit you like a truck, forming a sickening pit in your stomach. It was only now that you'd realized what you'd done and fear and worry were taking over. If Scara were to find out, he'd kill you. He'd do worse than kill you you supposed, ending your life would be much too easy
And you could only imagine what'd happen to Childe next.
You lay on your back in that inky black, pitch darkness, eyes trying to adjust to the light. You were feeling regretful, but you'd also never felt such a thrill in your entire life. Not since you got married.
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nczennie · 20 days ago
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it's ok if it hurts.
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Pairing: Reader & Stray Kid's Hyunjin AU: Historical, Royalty Genre: Angst Preview: Hyunjin was always a romantic. Maybe that's why the second he found love he left you for dead. Words: 3.8k *warnings undercut
WARNINGS: Death, mentions of blood, mentions of sexual harassment
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You've come to find out that you learn a lot of things growing up in a palace.
You may not learn how to read or write. How to walk so perfectly straight you can balance a book on your head. You'll never learn how to sweet talk delegates from other regions, but you think the lessons you've learned are just as valuable.
You know to always keep your eyes trained down, you know when it is okay for you to speak. You know to listen and observe every conversation you stumble upon. You've learned the techniques it takes to survive living as your rank in a place run by royals.
Your father is one of the King's chefs, your mother one of the ladies in charge of making the Queen's tea. They fell in love and married, you coming along shortly after. This meant you were apart of the palace life since you were born. And once you were old enough you were put to work as well, helping the other ladies in the garden picking herbs and cutting flowers.
You didn't mind your job, not that you had anything to compare it to. You enjoyed being able to work outside and the older women doted on you endlessly.
The King and Queen had two sons. Two boys blessed in beauty and had their own unique talents. The oldest of the two was eager to adopt his role as future King. Loving to read the history of the region, often taking his horse to explore the land. The youngest of the two boys was quite the opposite. He was a softer boy who loved poetry and art. Eager to make his own paintings rather than read about those who already did.
The younger Prince, Hyunjin, was your age. In fact, he was born merely months after you. The Queen found comfort in talking about her pregnancy with your mother as she served her tea. Comparing symptoms and trying to guess if that meant they were having a boy or a girl.
And though not proper, you and Hyunjin often played together when you were young, though it came with disapproving looks from his father whenever he caught you both. "It's alright, they're still young." his mother would say.
You always wondered if that meant once you become older you and Hyunjin would no longer be friends. But here you are now, having recently turned eighteen, pulling weeds from the garden as Hyunjin sat next to you sketching a newly bloomed flower.
The late summer humidity was getting to you as you move to wipe the sweat from your brow, the wide brim hat protecting you from the sunlight but did little to help your temperature when there was no breeze out. Reaching to place another weed in your basket you let out a huff.
"Did you hear the news?" Hyunjin speaks up, one of the first words he's spoke since concentrated on his writing. You turn to look at him but he doesn't move his gaze from his paper. "Maehwa is pregnant."
Maehwa is Hyunjin's sister-in-law. She married his brother some years ago and is set to be the future Queen. You hum, removing one of your gloves to relieve a bit of the heat, "Yes, mother told me. She seems very excited." Now alongside the Queen, your mother also serves Maehwa her tea as well.
Hyunjin puts his pencil down, opening and closing his fist as if to relieve his charcoal coated fingers of the stiffness. "My brother says he secretly wishes it's a girl," Hyunjin chuckles knowing if their father heard he would yell at him, knowing tradition calls for needing sons in order to keep their position as royal family.
You smile at the thought, you were fond of Hyunjin's brother. He was always very polite and nice to not only you but everyone he met. He was well read and modern and determined to make a difference when he became King. Even Maehwa, whom he was arranged to marry was a perfect fit for him. Sharing his kindness and beliefs.
Returning your glove to your hand, you reach for another weed hidden beneath a dirt pile, "I know he will be a great father no matter what." Hyunjin hums in agreement moving to smudge bits of his drawing.
"Well, well, well," Someone draws out and you and Hyunjin look in surprise as someone approaches you both.
Upon seeing him, you avert your gaze, secretly rolling your eyes as he approaches, "What are you both doing alone?" It was Hyunjin's personal guard. A young man by the name of Sahan.
On Hyunjin's eighteenth birthday, a personal guard was hired to make sure he was safe, especially since it meant he could now travel outside of the palace. This is where Sahan came in, he was some years older than the Prince but much more immature. There was something about the man you didn't quite trust, and the inappropriate comments he makes to the women staff around the palace make you all uncomfortable. But Hyunjin doesn't see that, in fact he seems to love Sahan. Growing up his only contact with people around his age were his brother and you. You figure he takes pleasure in having Sahan around and sees him as a friend.
Hyunjin smiles as the man approaches, "Oh come on, you know she is my friend." He chuckles standing to his feet and wipes at his clothes to remove any dirt. You still don't move to look at them but you could basically hear the smirk in Sahan's voice, "That may be but you know it's inappropriate for you both to be alone. Especially when you are friends with someone so beautiful, it could be tempting."
You don't give the man the satisfaction of a reaction, biting your tongue and keeping your gaze fixed on the plant before you.
Hyunjin lets out an amused scoff and your stomach clenches as he speaks, "Oh, please. It's not like that." Sahan laughs loudly at this, perhaps finding amusement in your friends rejection of you. "Suit yourself," you hear Hyunjin gather his art supplies.
You don't dare to look back, not even when Hyunjin calls your name and tells you goodbye. You listen to the sound of their footsteps growing further and further away on the gravel.
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Your mom always warned you your feelings for Hyunjin were dangerous.
But you merely rolled your eyes. You weren't stupid, you felt like saying. You knew you could never be with Hyunjin and you would never try to. Those thoughts you had about him falling in love with you and begging his parents to let him marry you were just fantasies you knew were for your head only.
But that doesn't mean it hurt any less when they announced he was getting married.
A scholar's daughter. Her family quicking raising in social status and wealth. Not acceptable for an heir, but for a second son, she would do.
You feel grateful that it isn't Hyunjin that breaks the news to you. That way when your mother tells you, you could cry in her arms as she tells you off for your feelings but hugs you tight nonetheless.
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Hyunjin has always been romantic.
And now that he is getting his chance at love he seems happier than ever. Now sitting below the tree where you pick apples. Hanging on to the ladder and biting your tongue as he drowns out about his wedding.
"I think I will paint her something and surprise her with it the night of the wedding." He looks up at you and you fill the bag with the ripe fruit. You hum but don't speak, focusing on reaching and keeping your balance.
"She'll probably be so nervous to move into the palace. But after the wedding when we're finally alone, I'll reassure her I'll love her and protect her. And then I'll present her with the painting and we can display it in our room." He drones on.
He's always been like this, coming up with romantic scenarios where he's the hero that can save and comfort someone he loves. But unfortunately they've never been about you.
"I could paint a picture of her town, to remind her of home. What do you think?" He asks and you sigh. "That's sweet, Hyunjin." You say because no matter how bitter you feel, you can't deny the sentiment.
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"I just met her, she's is quite the beauty."
You jump with a start, turning to see who has joined you in the gardeners shed. A chill runs through you as you see Sahan standing in the doorway. Without giving him a response, you turn back to the bucket of water where you were washing the vegetables.
Your heart pounds as he walks closer to you, your breath hitches as he stands directly behind you. "Salin, that's her name." He says in a low voice behind you.
He's speaking of Hyunjin's finacé. The wedding is tomorrow, and she arrived to the palace tonight.
"Leave me alone, Sahan." You finally say, scrubbing the radish for the wedding celebrations even harder.
Suddenly, you feel the weight of his hand over your waist, causing the vegetable to slip from your hand. You turn, burning red as he has the nerve to touch you.
"Don't touch me." You say firmly but he only looks down at you with a smirk. "Hyunjin is not yours anymore." He whispers, "He belongs to Salin now." He moves closer, pushing you into the large bucket, pressing against you and you try to push at his chest to keep your space.
"I can help you forget him, I can distract you." He leans in to whisper in your ear as you yank your head to the side. He hand form before returns to your waist giving it a squeeze.
"Get out. I'll scream." You say trying your best to keep your voice steady. But he merely laughs, "I think it's funny you have any power over me. You think anyone here will care what I do to you?"
Your lip wobbles as you look past his shoulder. Because no matter how small it made you feel, it was true.
There's a bustle of commotion from outside. You assume more gardeners returning to work after finishing their dinner. The whole palace will be awake all night to finish preparing for the big day tomorrow.
Sahan glances towards the door before pulling away from you completely. "I'll see you another time." He says simply before slipping out into the night. Leaving you to finish washing radishes as quiet sobs leave your mouth.
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The wedding goes splendidly.
Not that you would know as you were not allowed near the occasion, but the rest of the palace speaks happily about the whole ordeal.
You haven't seen Hyunjin in over a month. You suppose you should've expected this as he is married now. But a part of you wanted to believe you meant a least a fraction as much to him as he did to you.
On that note, you haven't seen Sahan since that night as well. He was busy accompanying Hyunjin and Salin around the town as they explored her new home.
But now a sense of paranoia and dread filled you whenever you were alone. Not wanted to run into him in fear of what he would do to you.
It was one early morning when you and the rest of the garders were busy planting seeds for a new crop. However your work was interrupted when the newly appointed princess, Salin walked with her staff into the field.
As protocol has it, you all stopped your work, standing to bow before standing still with your gaze pointed to the ground.
"I came to check out the work," she speaks and her voice is light as a feather. It's the first time you've been in the same room as her and you're dying to cast your gaze up to get a glance at her. But you restrain yourself.
"Thank you for all your hard work." She speaks over everyone, walking down the line of you all before stopping merely feet from you. "As you all know, I am now Prince Hyunjin's wife. And I just want to remind you all that you are gardeners. You work for the palace."
"And palace staff is all you'll stay. Please remember your place. Staff should not be on comfortable speaking terms with any of the royal family." Your mouth runs dry at her words.
She is talking to you all, but you know she is speaking to you.
She thanks you all once again before taking her leave. Shakily, you get back to your position. She had to be talking about you, there was no other explanation. Somehow she must've found out about your friendship with Hyunjin, but how?
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A couple of days later when it's your turn to set the fruit buckets to dry, you notice Hyunjin sitting under the tree just ahead of you.
A smile quirks on your face as for a second it feels like the old days. "Hyunjin," you call as you walk up to him giving him a friendly smile. He looks up from where he was drawing, eyebrows furrowed as if he didn't hear you approach.
But instead of his familiar warm smile or playful smirk he once gave you, his face stays still. A look of blankness casting over him like a veil. As if twenty years of memories slipped his mind.
"I hope you are not forgetting you are speaking to a member of the royal family." He speaks in an even tone.
You take a small step back taking a moment to consider his words. Hoping for a second that he was joking. Unfortunately there is not a hint of amusement in his face, instead a coldness that passes from his gaze to your blood.
"Your highness, excuse me." You say quietly before turning and scrambling off, forgetting about what you originally came for.
Your chest heaves as you make your way back to your working quarters. A dull pain lingering in your head as you try to comprehend what happened.
For as long as you've known Hyunjin you've never adhered to the rules that everyone else was expected to follow. He made it clear to you from the start that you were friends and there was no need to treat him otherwise.
Not realising that must've ended for him as soon as he got married.
You keep your head down as you enter the gardening shed, your coworkers chattering loudly. Suddenly, you remember about drying the baskets, so you quickly make your way into the corner pretending you came to grab more.
Stacking them slowly, you give yourself a minute to cry. Tears streaming down your face as you mourn your friend. It seems so sudden he was ripped from you without you even knowing.
You hear the door open but don't bother to look, not even when the loud chatter becomes murmurs.
You still work as you feel a presence behind you before a voice speaks, "I suppose whatever relationship you had with the Prince has come to an end."
It's Sahan. You recognize his chilling voice from anywhere. That must also explain why the other ladies have quieted. For there is no woman in the palace who feels comfortable with him.
You don't speak or acknowledge him as he only brings out a burning anger from within you.
"It's a shame the Princess doesn't want him around you. I must've let your friendship slip." He teases with a smirk you don't have to see to know is there.
So that's what happened. It's Sahan who told Princess Salin about your friendship with Hyunjin. That's why she visited you all in the fields the other day. That explains Hyunjin's behavior.
Sahan turns to leave a second later, perhaps not finding fun in your lack of reaction but you would never give him the satisfaction. You would never let him know that he's ruined you.
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The next month has been miserable.
Not only is there a big harvest coming up that has you working from sunup to sundown, but you miss Hyunjin.
You loved Hyunjin. And although you were smart enough not to admit it to anyone it still doesn't stop the fact that you feel utterly heartbroken.
You've lost not only a love, but your only friend in the palace. At this point you feel as if you've had nothing left. Even your parents have got to retire from their years of hard work and loyalty, living in a house outside of the palace and in town. It may be small but it was their own.
One night you feel like you're sleepwalking as you make your way back to your sleeping quarters. The palace is dark as everyone who is inside sleeps, but you volunteered to be the one to cleaned and prepped the tools ready for the morning.
Walking past one of the building you freeze.
It could be your sleep deprivation, or the wind, but from within just for a second it sounded like a yelp.
You pause listening for more. Surely if there was something, the guards would be alerted by now.
There was not another yelp, but instead a large thud.
This, not something you could blame on being tired. You heard it loud and clear.
You look around, waiting for someone to come to check out the noises, but there are only crickets. Hesitantly you take a step towards the door. If no one else was coming you had to make sure everything was okay.
Slowly, you start to slide the door open, as if to warn whoever was on the other side of your entry. Once you slip in, you let your eyes adjust, only a single candle lighting the room from the corner.
Standing in the middle of the room, is Prince Salin, causing you to freeze. You're about to bow and apologize before you noticed the terrified look on her face. She's heaving, sweating from her brow.
Looking at her hands, you freeze noticing the blood.
A panic wells in you as you begin to think she is hurt.
She holds what looks like a piece of a vase. Your gaze continues to the floor. You quickly move your hands to your mouth before the sound of shock can leave you.
There lies his body.
A pool of blood spilling from his neck, looking black in the dark lighting. The remains of the broken vase scattered around him.
You make a quick decision, entering the room completely before shutting the door quietly behind you.
"He-He was trying to touch me! I just wanted him to stop!" Salin cries, far too loud for your liking.
You hush her, moving in front of her to throw your hand over her mouth. "It's okay." You comfort her, knowing in fact it was anything but with a dead body on the floor beneath you both.
Keeping your hand over her mouth as she cries, you look down at the mess. Your mind wheeling with what to do next. What you finally decide scares you at first, but you start to move before you can think too much.
"Listen to me," You whisper to her, waiting for her to meet your gaze. "You need to sneak back into your room okay? Don't let anyone see you. Wash your hands and burn the dress, do you understand?" She merely stares at you so you push your hand into her, "Do you understand?" You whisper harshly.
She finally nods, looking desperate. You remove your hand, "Only get the help of your most trusted lady. Don't speak a word of what happened, just have her wash you and burn the dress." You repeat hoping she gets it despite her shocked state.
You step away, taking the sharp glass from her hand before nodding at her, "Go." She doesn't move for a second, looking at you before you point to the door.
She doesn't spare you another glace as she leaves as quietly as you entered.
You stare at the door for a few moments before finally looking down at the body again.
Sahan.
Leaning down you let yourself check for a pulse, confirming he was dead. You return to your standing position, looking at him and not finding it in yourself to feel sorry for him at all. You contemplate, for even in death he continues to ruin your life.
And that's how they find you.
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Hyunjin was always a romantic. Maybe that's why the second he found love he left you for dead.
You knew this would be the ending of your story as soon as you made the decision to take Salin's place.
Tied and kneeling in the courtyard of the palace, moments away from death.
Though your heart pounds with fear, you don't let yourself look away from Hyunjin, hoping to catch a glimpse at your old friend before you go.
But the reality is, he is no longer there.
For he was the one who suggested execution when they told him you had murdered his beloved Sahan. At the beginning you tried to plead, explaining how he was regularing harassing women around the palace. How you were merely defending yourself but it fell on deaf ears.
Sahan was right when he said he had more power than you, even now that he was gone.
You move your gaze from Hyunjin to Salin. You're welcome, you try to convey with your eyes. This could be you. You're lucky I'm the one who found you. All messages you want her to know, but you doubt she even cares at this point. Merely happy she got away with murder.
The guards ask if you have any last words.
You've been practicing for this. You clear your throat looking at Hyunjin in the eye. It didn't really matter what you said anyways, in moments you'd be dead.
You speak clearly, hoping to conceal any traces of fear from them.
"Hyunjin," You say loud enough to make sure he can hear, "It's ok if it hurts, because I love you."
A silence follows and though not even in your fantasies you imagined this is how you confess your love, you're just glad that you got to. Even if no reaction follows.
You keep Hyunjin's blank gaze until they throw the cloth bag over your head. Darkness consumes you, but you wish you could somehow see Hyunjin's reaction. To see if there is even a sliver of sadness or remorse as he see your life taken away from you.
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Copyright © 2024 by nczennie. All rights reserved.
🌼 All feedback is appreciated and welcomed 🌼
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h3artstain · 2 years ago
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A list of (realistic) things you can do to be more environmentally friendly
(from an earth-loving horticulture student.)
— COSMETICS
Use bar soap instead of soap bottles
Use old toothbrushes for cleaning surfaces
Try exploring and researching some homemade face/body/lip products
Use ice sleeves, sunglasses, and caps instead of sunscreen (Edit: I’ve seen people say that it is safer and even necessary to wear sunscreen at all times so try to use eco friendly sunscreen instead! In my country it’s pretty uncommon to wear sunscreen often as we usually wear ice sleeves which is why I did not know this oof)
Use coffee grinds or homemade tumeric masks instead of cosmetic products with exfoliator beads
Invest in a metal ear cleanser instead of cotton buds
Try placing more importance on skincare instead of contributing to exploitative beauty companies by buying makeup
Use cosmetic products that do not contain palm oil
— CLOTHING
Try as much as possible to rewear your outfits at least twice before washing them
Actually WEAR your clothes! I know some of y’all just wear them once for your Instagram post and let it rot in your closet forever. Stop doing that!
Thrift, stitch up holes in your clothes, and use second hand clothing instead of supporting fast fashion companies like SHEIN, H&M, Zara, etc.
Cut up your old clothing into yarn and do macramè with it
Cut patches of old clothing to turn into reusable cotton pads
Learn how to knit, crochet or stitch your clothes!
If you use tampons, try menstrual cups or discs instead. If you use pads, try reusable pads or period underwear. (Trust me, it works). Also, use reusable panty liners instead of disposable ones. They may seem expensive but you will end up saving a lot more in the long run
— GARDENING
Plant seeds/cuttings in your old bottles, jars, and containers
Propagate your plants and exchange cuttings with your friends instead of buying new plants
Make your own soil mixes instead of buying soil mixes
Better yet, don’t use soil for your indoor plants and try getting into hydroponics or semihydroponics instead. This saves so much water and doesn’t contribute to mining of soil
Fertilise plants with fruit peels, coffee grinds, and tea leaves. (DO NOT use chemical fertiliser on soil)
Plant more legume plants in your garden instead of using nitrogen fertilisers. (Look up the nitrogen cycle if you need an explanation on this)
Avoid pesticides unless really needed. Try sprinkling cinnamon powder on soil or spraying neem oil on plants and soil to keep away pests.
If you have a lawn, try looking into rain gardens and consider making one
Let the (non invasive) weeds in your lawn/garden grow! They are there for a reason!
Stop killing earthworms and millipedes in your garden. This also applies to snails native to your region. They are there for a reason.
Water used to wash fruits and rice can be used to water plants
— REDUCE, REUSE
Use the caps of jars as soap holders
Use recycled paper/notebooks
Wash and dry your glass/plastic items before throwing them in the recycling bin
Keep any plastic bags for future use
Use eco friendly or reusable dish sponges
Use reusable straws and cups
Invest in a fabric cup holder
Bring a water bottle with you wherever you go
Drink more water and less sugary drinks
Bring reusable bags for buying groceries instead of using plastic ones
Always keep a folded up tote/shopping bag with you in case you spontaneously decide to buy something
— ELECTRICITY
Set a timer on your air conditioning instead of letting it run throughout the night
Better yet, use a fan instead of an air conditioner
Open your windows! Aerate your home!
Allow natural light to enter your home during the daytime, so as to avoid turning on your lights
Switch to LED lightbulbs instead of regular lightbulbs
Turn off any switches in your house when they are not in use
Collect the water from your air conditioner/dehumidifier condenser and use that to water plants, clean surfaces, steam ironing, and flushing toilets. Do not drink it though!
— INTERNET
Delete your all of your unwanted emails
Delete your inactive social media accounts
Try not to post excessively on social media and stop scrolling excessively too. This not only reduces energy usage but also improves your mental health and productivity
Try to keep to one social media app instead of having so many
Reduce your internet usage
Save your eBooks on a thumbdrive instead of on cloud
Use Ecosia instead of Google
Stop being influenced by social media trends that only just contribute to consumerism
Download music instead of streaming
Reduce online shopping
— FOOD
Reduce intake of processed foods
Reduce intake of fish, beef, and dairy
Try eating vegan or vegetarian foods at least once or twice a week
Cook your own meals instead of eating out
Bring your own food containers when taking away food from stores
Beeswax wrap instead of cling wrap!
Buy loose-leaf tea or plastic free tea bags instead of regular tea bags
Eat more mushrooms, vegetables, and fruits and drink more water
Support local farmers
And finally, educate yourself more about ecology and the environment!
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sludgewolf · 1 year ago
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It's so Fucking Cold - Various x Reader
Part 2
Characters": Raiden Shogun, Kaveh, Kuki Shinobu, Wriothesley
Disclaimer: do not copy, repost, take or feed to AI or NFTs anything I post
Masterlist
Raiden Shogun
She's cold, cold as ice
that is, until she uses electro to warm herself up
then she turns into a human furnace
Despite how bony her hands are they fit perfectly with yours, thawing your frozen digits and getting rid of the painful bit of the wind on you rskin
On colder days she will constantly use her element to keep herself warm, making your skin feel tingly against her
Kaveh
Babygirl IS the one complainign about the cold and seeks you in order to steal your warmth
Growing up in Sumeru definitely didn't prepare him for the cold
He covers himself from head to toe and brings a blanket to throw over you too so he can cuddle to your side
He doesn't care if you're not cold, you will cuddle with him under the fucking blanket, there's no discussion on the matter
Kuki Shinobu
Also not the warmest of people
but what she lacks in the body heat department she makes up with knowing of ways to keep both of you warm during Inazuma's harst winters
Closes you in her room at the gang's hideout, in there Shinobu has already set out warm clothes, blankets, candles and strangely an empty clay planter set on top of two bricks
she lets you get settled while she brings you warm beverages
Once she's back you ask about the planter, Shinobu explains that she read of some cultures that live in extremely cold regions using it as a space heater
as she talks she lights one candle and puts right inder the planter and a few minutes later it starts heating up the room
you fall asleep next to the ninja as she quietly reads one of her books
Wriothesley
FINALLY someone warm
bitch is built like a brick wall, no shit he's warm
that and due to his cryo vision he tends to dress to keep himself warm to avoid frostbite so he always has a jacket to lend you
if his jacket isn't enough he's more than happy to have you on his lap while he works
Wolf Boy knows the fort is even colder than Fountaine City, especially when the natural humidity of the region mixes with the cold of the winter
so he always makes sure to keep warm tea in his ofice for you to share
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greenwitchcrafts · 1 year ago
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Lavender
Lavandula officinalis
Known as: Elf leaf, nard, nardus & spike
Related plants: A member of the mint family Lamiaceae, there are genus of 47 known species of lavender. It includes well known plants such basil, mint, rosemary, sage, savory, marjoram, oregano, hyssop, thyme, lavender, and perilla, as well as catnip, salvia, bee balm, wild dagga & oriental motherwort.
Parts used: Flowers
Habitat and cultivation: This flowering plant is native to the the Mediterranean
Plant type: Perennial
Region: Most are hardy from Zones 5 to 9 | Spanish Lavender (L. stoechas) is only hardy in Zones 7 to 9.
Harvest: You can harvest all the budding spikes or flowers on your plant during the growing season but avoid cutting into woody growth. Don't want to take more than 1/3 of the plant at this time & limiting your harvest to flowers and buds should keep you within recommended limits. As first frost approaches, snip off woody, leafy stems & branching. You can safely take up to 2/3 of the plant at this time. Harvesting too early can stimulate more growth which you don't want since the lavender is moving into winter dormancy.
Growing tips: To grow lavender successfully it needs well-drained soil, full sun & may be a good idea to check the PH beforehand because soil too acidic may kill off your plants. It survives well in dry conditions, so you'll only have to water when the top 2 inches of soil are dry. Plant lavender in spring, once all chances of frost have passed. This beautiful, fragrant herb is a great addition to raised beds, in-ground gardens, and growing in containers spacing plants 12 to 18 inches apart.
Medicinal information: Taking lavender products by mouth, including teas and a specific oil supplement or inhaling lavender oil as aromatherapy, seem to reduce symptoms of depression & anxiety. Lavender oil is believed to have antiseptic and anti-inflammatory properties, which can help to heal & burns & bug bites. Some studies suggest that consuming lavender as a tea can help digestive issues such as vomiting, nausea, intestinal gas, upset stomach, & abdominal swelling. A study published in the Journal of Medical Microbiology found that lavender oil could be effective in combating antifungal-resistant infections. Using it as aromatherapy can also reduce colic symptoms & menstrual cramp pain.
Cautions: Lavender essential oil is possibly safe when inhaled as aromatherapy, but applying products that contain lavender oil to the skin is possibly unsafe for young cis males who haven't reached puberty. The oil seems to have hormone-like effects that could disrupt normal hormones & in some cases, this has resulted in breast growth.
Lavender might cause sleepiness and slowed breathing. Taking lavender with sedative medications might cause breathing problems and/or too much sleepiness.
Lavender might slow down the central nervous system. If used with anesthesia and other medications given during and after surgery, it might slow down the central nervous system too much. Stop using lavender at least 2 weeks before a scheduled surgery.
Magickal properties
Gender: Masculine
Planet: Mercury
Element: Air
Deities: Aradia, Elves, Faeries, Hecate & Saturn
Magickal uses:
• Place in sleep pillows to encourage peaceful sleep
• Wear as a perfume to attract a new love
• Rub on paper when writing love spells or notes for added power
• Add with rosemary to a satchet for preserve chastity
• Scatter around your home to invite protection & purifying energies
• Use in a ritual bath to lighten feelings of depression or sadness
• Wear or use in an amulet to discourage cruelty from a spouse
• Drink lavender tea before bed to aid in astral travel or dream magick
• Burn as an incense for meditation or spirit work
• Use in spells to strengthen friendships
• Purify your ritual candles & tools with a drop of oil to release any negative energies contained within them
•  Hang above your door protect against evil spirits , for home blessings & to cleanse all who enter
• Rub the oil on to the base of the skull or temples to help cure the nervous exhaustion that sometimes happens after intensive magickal workings
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probablyasocialecologist · 1 year ago
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If Ugandans have a social safety net, it is woven from banana fibers, and if there is a clear path to socialism, it will be lined with banana leaves. The lusuku model, premised on intercropping and smallholder farming, could be the basis for national agrarian reform that improves the lives of Uganda’s agricultural workers without accelerating the destruction of the natural environment. Uganda faces increasing difficulty feeding itself because of climate extremes and land degradation, and this affects farmers more significantly than anyone else. Moreover, since the 1990s, the ruling National Resistance Movement regime sold off and dismantled most of the coffee, tea, and cotton growers cooperatives, leaving smallholder farmers in the hands of the predatory middlemen which cooperatives had been established to protect them against. Unable to collectively bargain and exposed to dramatic fluctuations in the market prices for cash crops, many people left rural areas to search for employment in cities. This has been a driving force behind the massive inequality between rural and urban workers. Ugandans now produce more food than they consume, even exporting to other countries in the region, yet 41% of people are undernourished, and agricultural production has decreased over the last 20 years. For the most part, the strategy pursued by Uganda’s government has been to encourage the development of ecologically disastrous intensive agriculture for export, privileging foreign investors rather than developing the infrastructure that would benefit peasants. Indeed, while more than 70% of Ugandans are employed in agriculture, the sector only receives around 4% of public investment, and projects aimed at helping smallholder farmers have had very little success, even by their own standards. Many of the government’s investments in agriculture very clearly advantage larger landowners, to the detriment of the poorest farmers. For example, most of the government’s investment in labor-saving technologies has been spent on tractors, which are great for large plots but largely unaffordable or unsuitable for the average farmer, whose plot is usually between 1-3 acres large. However, a socialist transition premised on agroecological reforms could make use of the existing lusuku model to create the kind of growth that actually improves poor farmers’ lives without destroying their environment. This could begin with reestablishing cooperatives and engineering agricultural prices around social needs and goals, like guaranteeing access to food. Research from around the world has shown that while large, monocrop plantations are good at producing huge volumes of one crop, smallholder farms are more productive when evaluated on a per-unit area and are capable of securing national food sovereignty. Why, for example, should Ugandans buy rice imported from Pakistan or Vietnam when banana intercropping yields more calories per hectare than rice? Lusukus could feed the nation without relying on foreign experts, development aid, or the capital-intensive inputs now being imported to grow for export. Because lusukus are far better for the soil, they also improve the nation’s capacity to resist severe floods and drought, effects of climate change that hit poor farmers hardest. In these ways, the lusuku model could provide a sustainable path to socialist development.
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nekrosmos · 2 days ago
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I just woke up from a what’s supposed to be a 20 minutes nap but became 3 hours nap after taking my meds today 😂 can barely open my eyes as I type this
Here’s something random Price HC for you to distract you, not proof read so if it has errors my bad:
Price cared for a small plot of plant at the furthest region of the base he was stationed in. It started with one stubborn patch of green which looked half-crushed by careless boots and was barely clinging to life. Price noticed it one morning during his usual patrol. He paused, crouched down, knees cracking and he’s groaning like an old man he is and studied the struggling little plant. “Tough little bugger,” he thinks.
For some reason, he came back afterwards and poured some water on the poor shrub, and then again the next day, and again on the next next day, watching as the plant loses its yellowing green and grow new sprouts.
He could hardly consider this “farming” or “gardening”, but slowly he started getting more stuff for this routine of his. Like a broken mug as a way to scoop the dirt or picking up a random stray’s dung and pat it into the ground as fertilizer.
The men sometimes caught him lingering by the plants, but no one questioned it. They just assumed their captain was doing some sort of “tactical assessment” of the terrain. If anyone noticed the occasional frost-free patch or the odd green shoot looking a little healthier than before, they chalked it up to luck or nature, when actually it has been the Captain who’s been taking care of the plants on that place.
I don’t know where this is going, but I just think it’s funny to imagine Price walking around and going, “wait, have I watered that bugger today” or like imagining him squatting and fussing about some random plants, talking to it like he’s talking to another soldier.
Something something him being tender to the things no one cares about something something…anyways!! Hope this is enough to distract bud, I’ve yet to catch on on you and Jack’s stuff which I will do later or tomorrow myehehe
Oh this is adorable Gomz !!! Love Price talking to a plant like he's talking to his soldiers. Lots of threats. A (gentle) pat on the leaves. He's so proud when the thing starts getting bigger and stronger. Tough bugger alright. Whenever John is annoyed by his superiors or by bureaucracy, he goes outside and takes care of that plant. Beats yelling at some wide-eyed recruits some days.
Maybe this unlocks something in his brain and he starts to enjoy gardening ?? Nik notices and buys him the required tools next time they're on break together. Price has a small house somewhere in England, with a small garden but he always kept it as practical as he could, nothing fancy. Now he's thinking of growing some plants, some veggies, maybe get his own food so Nik can cook him some homemade meal with homegrown vegetable.
It's a nice little hobby he grows to enjoy, takes his mind out of the job for a few hours and makes him spend some energy (which he always has too much of whenever he's not at work.). Nik loves to sit on a garden chair outside and watch him work while enjoying some tea. It's nice to see John take some time off.
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wanderersbell · 2 years ago
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If requests are still open , how about the reader inviting Scara to their teapot (could be traveling companion reader who also owns a teapot, but do whatever you want, i love your ideas!!!) and the reader furnished an entire room for him? it's suited to his likes too :o tysm!!
a realm for him
wanderer x gn! reader
genre: fluff
warnings: none
word count: 2528
a/n: okay listen i may have gotten a bit carried away with this and made it way longer and sappier than i was intending, but i spent forever decking out my whole teapot for him so i loved this idea sooo much (❁´◡`❁) tysm for the wonderful request, enjoy!
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getting the state of your teapot to be as lively as it is now was no small feat. 
day by day for weeks on end, you’ve slowly worked at filling each empty corner with little towns and lush scenery, all of which are based off of your traveling companions favorite spots in sumeru. one island is reminiscent of a small fishing village, fenced off and framed by local shrubbery and flora, as well as some small crop gardens already growing with tiny seedlings. the second island is decorated as a beautiful scenic forest, with trees and plants and gazebos and fountains all connected by a subtle stone path that lead through to the third island. 
and the third island, after much contemplation, is decorated as a tiny inazuman shrine, bordered with towering cherry blossom trees and eye catching blue glowing flowers that create an almost mystical ambiance. you weren’t sure if reminding him of the place where he came from was a good idea, but figured having a small piece of home away from home might be the one way he can actually enjoy the view of inazuma. the sights here are much different from what he saw in tatarasuna, much more welcoming, so you figured it was worth a shot and swore to yourself that you would take it down immediately if he doesn’t like it. 
and, your personal favorite part is the main building decorated as a tea shop on the inside, with a tasteful mix of interior inspiration from every region you’ve visited thus far, all mushed together to create an eclectic little space for him to come and enjoy the different teas you’ve started collecting in secret. 
in fact, all of this was a secret. the wanderer had yet to catch on to the actual reason behind your insistence to collect extra materials while you travel together, and the time you spent in your teapot was time he spent off running errands and assisting lesser lord kusanali, so nothing was out of the ordinary as far as he was concerned. 
but, after a few finishing touches like street lamps and wildlife to make everything feel less lonely, you were finally done. it was finished. every square inch of your teapot fully furnished with things you couldn’t wait to show the one you had in mind when doing it all. 
when the time comes for you to finally bring him there, you’re way more nervous than you were expecting to be. what if he doesn’t like? hates it, even? what if your design choices are wrong and the vibes are off and-
“well,” the wanderer’s voice drags you out if your thoughts, smooth and grounding. “are we going in or what? how does this thing even work?”
right, it’s too late to turn back anyways. the golden teapot hovers in the air between you from where you stand on a riverbank together, and the man next to you has his arms crossed with an unimpressed frown as he waits for you to respond. it’s cloudier than usual today, the sky a soft shade of gray in the background, and you shiver a bit both because of nerves and the lack of sunlight before clearing your throat. 
“it uh- transports me in as soon as i open the lid. just…” you trail off, contemplating whether or not you want to say anything before you bring him in. “just grab onto my hand so we’ll both go together.” you blurt out instead. it would take you both in regardless, but this was the first excuse out of your mouth, and you want to curl up and become invisible at the odd look he gives you. he can tell you’re up to something, but hasn’t figured out what quite yet. 
“okay.” he agrees easily, slotting his hand against yours. his skin is cool to the touch and his grip firm, and you’re reaching out to rip the lid off of the teapot before you can start thinking too much about the way it makes your heart jump into your throat. the both of you are transported to the inside of the device in the blink of an eye, arriving right before the main building where tubby dozes away inside of her own pot. 
his first thought it that it’s… big. bigger than he was expecting. his eyes automatically go to the structure behind him and he wordlessly goes to grab the handle of the door but you’re quick to tug the back of his shirt to stop him, shaking your head softly when he turns to give you a questioning look. 
“we’ll do this last, let’s go take a walk first.” 
his eyes follow yours in the direction of the other islands that are just visible in the distance. he can’t make out any details yet, much to your relief. 
“what’s out there?” he asks with poorly concealed interest while following you down the steps of the building and towards the first island. you give him a sly smile that you hope masks the way you’re freaking out on the inside. 
“you’ll see.”
he raises a brow at this but stays silent. this island is the small fishing village, based off of the one you both visit regularly, the one where you first met the mysterious wanderer and your journey with him began. he feels a sense of familiarity as you lead him over to the straw hut in the middle, noticing the crop gardens off to the side and giving an approving hum at the sight. 
you watch him closely the entire time, zeroing in on every minuscule change in his expression and feeling your chest swell with pride at the way his eyes soften. he can’t help but to remember the day he met you, the way you would flat out ignore him every time he tried making a dig at you then turn around and be as sweet as ever to the local kids at the village, and he has to bite back a fond smile at the memories. 
“well?” you peer up at him hesitantly. it’s more than obvious that he likes it as he looks around like he’s already trying to familiarize himself with where everything is, but still, you want to hear him say it. 
“well?” he parrots, meeting your expectant eyes. he pretends to think for a moment, just to leave you hanging for a bit longer, and then, “it’s nice, but there’s no fish.”
you instinctively frown and open your mouth to tell him to stop being so picky but pause just as the first word dies on your lips. with a sinking feeling of realization, you look around you and confirm that yes, there is indeed no body of water, therefore no fish. 
“oh.” you say dumbly, and the stumped look on your face has a laugh bubbling up in his chest. you can’t fight back the smile that creeps up on you even though he’s laughing at your expense and give him a lighthearted shove before leading him away to the next island. 
“how did you manage to forget the most crucial part of a fishing village?” the wanderer teases, catching up to you in a few long strides. 
“i didn’t forget, that’s just not a furnishing option in here.” you explain. 
when you reach the second island, you remain quiet again and wait for him to take it all in and make a comment himself. his eyes widen a fraction in awe as you both step underneath the canopy of trees and wildlife, the bright colors of flora and fauna and the blue accents on the towering gazebos on each side all working together to make a botanical haven that he can’t tear his attention away from. 
within only moments of being in there he’s already spotted a handful of his favorite plants and flowers, ones with meanings that stuck with him throughout his life, ones that you held onto and remembered and planted here. 
you watch with baited breath as he absentmindedly reaches a hand out to brush his fingers against the low hanging leaves beside him, eyes flitting from place to place and noticing something different each time. there’s a look akin to childlike wonder on his face, and when his attention finally falls back to you there’s a tiny genuine smile playing at his lips that makes you ache to reach out and hold him. 
he’s so, so beautiful standing underneath of the lush trees and flowers, and unbeknownst to you, as he holds your gaze, he’s thinking the same thing in return. your excitement to bring him here and show him this leaves him with a warm feeling blooming in his chest, an appreciation for you that he fears he’ll never be able to properly express. 
“ready to keep going?” you ask softly, as if speaking too loudly will ruin the peaceful atmosphere. 
“there’s more?” the look of surprise on his face has you chuckling breathlessly while you continue the path forward. 
this is the part you’ve been looking forward to and anticipating the most, and as the final island comes into view, you can feel him stiffen beside you. the giant cherry blossom trees are visible even from the distance, but his step doesn’t falter and he keeps up next to you so you take it as a sign to keep going. 
his presence beside you stays strong as you approach the shrine and step into the field of glowing flowers, and you watch out of the corner of your eye as he takes in the familiar pink trees and red painted wood with a complicated emotion swirling around in his irises. he doesn’t look angry though, so you finally feel your shoulders relax and allow yourself to enjoy the scenery as you walk along the path. 
in his own head, the wanderer is… puzzled. this island is so out of place inside of your sumeru themed teapot, and yet, the care and effort you put into it makes the other ones small in comparison. the shrine is grand, sleek, and high quality. the trees are placed perfectly so that the breeze carries soft pink petals down with it, dancing around you two in a beautiful airborne waltz. 
the flowers, the same ones that grow in chinju forest, cast everything in a gentle azure glow, one that when he looks at you is reflecting an ethereal light over your features. somewhere deep down inside of him, he feels a bit of sorrow clinging onto him, bringing with it the memories of a place he left behind long ago. 
but next to that is the all consuming feeling of happiness that he tries so hard to convince himself he doesn’t feel when he’s with you. in this special place of yours, filled with your hard work and thoughtfulness, he can no longer deny himself the truth of how wholeheartedly he cares for you. you, who’s staring back at him with a kindness he’s never known as you give him new memories to associate with the sights of his homeland.  
you still can’t decipher the emotions on his face, but you can tell they’re good ones and that he’s contemplating something deeply, so you let the silence hang comfortably in the air as you walk side by side all the way back to the entrance and to the main building, the part you’ve been saving for last. he says nothing the whole way back, granting you the chance to appreciate the comfort something as simple as walking with him brings you. 
when you finally make it to the main island and ascend the steps of the building, he snaps out of his reverie and raises a brow at you questioningly. “what’s inside?”
“it’s nothing much,” you lie with a mischievous smile adorning your face. when you open the door and let him in he realizes he really, truly has fallen hopelessly for you. 
it’s a tea shop. for him.
there’s no denying it, there’s no other explanation he can give himself because he knows you don’t care much for tea. that means-
this whole teapot, every single island, was for him.
you watch with a huge grin on your face as the wanderer splutters and blushes when it all finally hits him. nobody has ever done this much for him, not without a price at least, but you never ask for anything in return from him so he’s almost literally short circuiting while trying to figure out the proper response. 
“why did you- what…” he takes a grounding breath before trying again. “why do all of this?”
you smile softly and shrug. “because i wanted to.”
he opens his mouth to say something else, likely to prod you for a legitimate reason as to why, but you cut him off before he gets the chance. “look around first, i want to know what you think.”
he wants to argue, but bites his tongue at the clear eagerness on your face and clicks his tongue in fake annoyance as he takes in the contents of the room. he walks around for a few minutes, observing the things on the walls and shelves, scrutinizing the chinaware, poking the souvenirs you’ve collected from other regions, until finally he stops at the cabinet that houses the tea collection. 
“open it.” you say hurriedly. he gives you a fake suspicious raise of his brow but complies and tugs the door of the cabinet open, a sharp intake of air following immediately afterwards as he instantly recognizes the labels. 
“this is…” he trails off in disbelief. 
“the tea from the shop you keep staring after longingly in sumeru city? yep, sure is.” you confirm mirthfully, skipping over to stand next to him and watch him take a container down to turn around in his hands. he’s struggling to process this, to accept this much kindness from you when he knows he doesn’t deserve it, not in the slightest, but the proud gleam in your eyes doesn’t get lost to him and he knows you’re anxiously awaiting his response. 
“i don’t know why you would bother with this, and go through all of this effort,” he starts tentatively, placing the tea back in the cupboard so he can turn to fully look at you. “but i can acknowledge the work you put in and promise i will put it to good use.”
your expression falls slightly at his formal tone of speech. “and?”
he frowns hesitantly and averts his eyes. “and… i like it. or whatever. it’s really nice.”
your triumphant grin is almost blinding when he meets your gaze again and he shakes his head in silent exasperation. though he doesn’t know how, or when it’ll happen, he swears to himself that somehow, someway, he’ll repay you for this. he’ll find a way to show you how much it really means to him, how much you really mean to him. 
but for now, sitting together in your shared realm with some freshly steeped tea, for the first time in centuries, he feels at home. 
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fioreofthemarch · 2 months ago
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She stirs her tea and watches it swirl, though the sugar has long dissolved. If it cools before she drinks it, she will feel rude, but somehow can’t bring herself to try any. An old rule of Father’s: nothing sweet before noon. Damn him.
Sonia is pouring herself some more tea. She has the fine ceramic set laid out on the garden table in the gazebo where they have shared many a morning. Sonia eyes Zelda’s cup, and places down the teapot without judgement.
“Hydromelon tea isn’t for everyone. It’s made from the rind, you see. But it does wonders for the nerves.”
Obligingly, Zelda finally tries some of the tea, and finds it mellow, slightly bitter in taste, with the sweetness of sugar following lightly. She sighs, her mind clearing for a moment. “Thank you, for being so patient with me.”
“It is nothing. Here we have plenty of time.”
“Yes. Maybe even all of it, if I am to stay in this era.”
Concern passes over Sonia’s face, but she says nothing, and instead reaches for the teapot to refill Zelda’s teacup.
“You know, we cultivate this hydromelon in our gardens, in a greenhouse. It is usually only found in Gerudo, and lately we’ve had… challenges in trading with the region. But hydromelon is hardy, and while ours are not as flavourful as those grown in the desert, they grow nonetheless.”
“And what if I am not so hardy, as you say?” Zelda says, taking another sip of tea.
“All plants need light and air. We can be that for you. You are family, yes? Then you are part of the garden.”
Zelda smiles, finishing her cup. Gentle wind flows through the gazebo. On the breeze, soft like an embrace, is the smell of flowers and earth.
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rileyslibrary · 2 years ago
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Campfire kisses
Sometimes, you spot wild berries in the bushes and happily point them out to him. He selects only a handful, careful not to take more than necessary, rinsing them with water from his flask before handing them to you. “They’re not ours,” he reminds you, “the animals here need them more than we do.”
Relationship: Simon “Ghost” Riley x F!Reader
Word Count: 710
Notes:
Camping with Ghost.
You can read this as a one-shot or a sequel to “Meal, Under-the-Stars”, whatever makes you happy.
A lil suggestive at the end, but overall, it’s fluff.
Oh, and um, Happy Valentine’s day.
What more?
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He steps lightly over the mossy ground, his body weaving through the trees like a dancer who knows the earth’s rhythm by heart. He divides tree branches with delicacy and gentleness like he tucks stray hairs behind your ear to get a better view of your face.
At times, he plucks herbs and flower buds—mint, lemon verbena, and chamomile—from the ground to brew tea when you arrive at your destination. As he picks them up, he describes their distinct flavours and, like a teacher, guides you through their properties.
Sometimes, you spot wild berries in the bushes and happily point them out to him. He selects only a handful, careful not to take more than necessary, rinsing them with water from his flask before handing them to you. “They’re not ours,” he reminds you, “the animals here need them more than we do.”
Whenever a deer passes by, he motions for you to keep quiet and lower yourself to the ground so you don’t scare them away. His expression softens as he stares at the wild animal’s beauty. You spot rabbit traps here and there, and he removes them, explaining that the region is protected from hunting to conserve wildlife. He’s not a visitor to the forest; he’s a protector of its inhabitants.
When you come across a cliff, you are afraid to take the leap. But with his hand clasped in yours, he guides you through the most challenging paths. He encourages you to jump, reminding you he has your back; he always does.
You reach a river, and as you hesitate, looking at your boots, he motions for you to get closer to him. Before you know it, he sweeps you up in his arms and carries you to the other side, weightless, safe, and protected.
You should be tired after all this walking, but you aren’t; your headache is gone and your anger has faded away. You look around, and your eyes soften after spending so many hours hunched over your computer screen. You breathe in, and the stiffness in your neck dissipates like fog in the sun.
It’s almost dawn when you arrive at the camping site, a relatively high point of the mountain you’ve climbed. He sets up the tent with attention and skill as if something deep inside his soul is being rekindled. He handles the tent poles and anchors with expertise and familiarity that can only come from countless nights spent outdoors. He catches you looking at him and offers you a smile. He seems content, pleased to show you his ways. You smile back.
You stare at the MREs he’s brought with him, and your mouth starts to water as if you’re about to eat a gourmet meal. He puts on a silly cooking show for you, carefully opening each sachet and arranging the contents with the precision of a seasoned chef. This is Simon Riley; rugged and brutal to the outside world but a playful and devoted partner to you.
You glance up at the night sky, which is clear of city lights and full of stars. You realise he can’t shine in the city; he can only be himself when he’s out here with you. You’re his sky, and he’s your one and only star.
As you chat and share stories, the sounds of your laughter and the gentle crackling of the fire blend together. He opens up about his difficult childhood, growing up in a broken home with a heartless father and a brother who struggled with addiction. He tells you about the loneliness and fear he felt as a child and how he learned to fend for himself at a young age. Despite your different experiences, you share one thing in common: you’re both troubled individuals who beat the odds to get where you are now.
As the night becomes colder, he draws you close to his chest. He lifts your chin and presses his lips against yours, warming up your entirety. The fire crackling beside you drowns out any moans of pleasure as your hands trace each other’s skin.
Nothing else seems to matter at the time. The cold world beyond the warmth of the fire and your embrace melts away, leaving the sky and its one and only star.
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gaiasgrimoire · 2 months ago
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Herb Spotlight: Thyme
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History & Origins
Thyme (Thymus vulgaris) is a perennial herb that has been cherished for its culinary, medicinal, and spiritual properties for thousands of years. Originating from the Mediterranean region, thyme was used by the ancient Egyptians for embalming, while the Greeks and Romans valued it for its antiseptic properties and burned it as incense in temples to purify spaces.
The name "thyme" is believed to come from the Greek word "thymos," meaning courage or strength. Roman soldiers would bathe in thyme-infused water to gain bravery before battles. In the Middle Ages, it was also tucked under pillows to ward off nightmares and given to knights and warriors as a symbol of courage.
Where & How to Grow Thyme
Thyme is a resilient, sun-loving herb that thrives in well-drained soil and can be grown both indoors and outdoors.
Climate: Thyme prefers warm, sunny climates with at least 6 hours of sunlight daily. It's drought-tolerant and does well in zones 5-9.
Soil: Grows best in well-drained, sandy soil with a slightly alkaline pH. Avoid overwatering, as thyme doesn't tolerate soggy soil.
Growing from seeds: Start thyme seeds indoors 6-8 weeks before the last frost, or plant cuttings directly in the garden in spring or early summer. Thyme can also be propagated easily by root division.
Spacing: Plant thyme about 12 inches apart in a sunny location. It can also be grown in pots or as a ground cover, as it only grows to about 6-12 inches tall.
Harvesting: Harvest thyme when the plants are dry, preferably in the morning, by cutting sprigs just before the flowers bloom. The leaves can be used fresh or dried for later use.
Health Benefits
Thyme offers numerous medicinal benefits when used orally or topically.
Oral Uses:
Respiratory support: Thyme is a natural expectorant, helping to clear mucus and ease symptoms of coughs, colds, bronchitis, and sore throats. Drinking thyme tea or using thyme honey is particularly effective.
Antimicrobial properties: Thyme contains thymol, an essential oil with antibacterial, antifungal, and antiviral properties. It helps fight infections and boost the immune system.
Digestive aid: Thyme is excellent for relieving indigestion, bloating, and gas. It can also help regulate gut bacteria and support digestive health.
Antioxidant support: Rich in vitamin C and other antioxidants, thyme helps reduce oxidative stress, supporting overall wellness and aging.
Topical Uses:
Skin health: Thyme can be used as a natural antiseptic for treating wounds, cuts, and infections. It also helps soothe skin conditions such as acne, eczema, and fungal infections due to its antimicrobial properties.
Anti-inflammatory: When applied topically, thyme can reduce inflammation and swelling, making it useful for treating skin irritations or minor burns.
Hair growth: Thyme oil is often used in natural hair care products for stimulating hair growth and treating dandruff due to its antimicrobial properties.
Magical Properties
Thyme has long been associated with purification, protection, and courage in magical practices.
Purification: Thyme is used in cleansing rituals, either burned as incense or added to baths to cleanse one's aura or energy field. It is believed to purify spaces, removing negative energies or spirits.
Protection: Thyme is often carried or placed in doorways for protection from harm or ill intentions. It can also be worn as a charm to ward off negative energies and bad dreams.
Courage & Strength: Thyme is associated with bravery. In magical workings, it’s used to summon strength and courage, especially when facing difficult situations or challenges. It can be carried as a talisman or burned before spell work to empower the caster.
Healing: Thyme is often used in spells related to healing, vitality, and renewal. It's added to healing potions, incense, and sachets to promote physical and emotional recovery.
Love & Attraction: In love magic, thyme is believed to attract love and affection. It’s often included in love sachets, charms, or baths to draw positive relationships and strengthen existing ones.
Using Thyme in Your Practice
Thyme tea: Brewed as tea, thyme can be sipped to promote healing, clear the mind, and fortify the spirit before rituals.
Burning thyme: Burn dried thyme as an offering to deities, or use the smoke to cleanse and purify spaces, objects, or yourself.
Thyme oil: Dilute thyme essential oil in a carrier oil and use it in healing rituals or anointing candles to promote health and protection.
Thyme is a versatile herb with deep roots in history, known for its medicinal, culinary, and magical uses. Whether you're growing it in your garden or using it in your magical practice, thyme offers powerful healing, protective, and purifying qualities that make it a must-have in any herbalist's or witch’s collection.
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