#though i feel as though its very Orange compared to jasmine

[auko-teatime]

Puts 15 bux on the counter

Sorry I'm broke-

Evaporates

"That's quite alright, you can get a lemon tea for 12. Here's your change..."

[loversamongus]

Coffee, Chills, and Closeness | modern!Zuko x reader

a/n: I was really happy with the way Friends, Fevers, and Family Movies came out so I decided to write a sequel to it in which you now have to take care of a sick, grumpy, little Zuko. I just really love good ol’ fluff.

warnings: characters sick with the flu; some language

words: 2.2k

After a few more days of bed rest and bowls of Katara’s special flu season homemade soup, you were starting to feel much better. The color reappeared in your face, the bounce returned to your step, and clarity chased out the dizziness in your head. Your best friends noticed your change in health and mood almost immediately.

“Must be my soup,” Katara said as you bounced past her in the kitchen to reach your cereal. You couldn’t help but question a knowing look in her eye. You raised an eyebrow in response.

“Or maybe just some good nights of sleep,” she continued. “You’ve had a smile plastered on your sleepy face for a couple nights now.”

“I’m gonna ignore the fact that you’ve been watching me sleep and eat my breakfast now, if you don’t mind.”

But what Katara said couldn’t be completely ignored, no. You don’t often remember your dreams, but recently you’ve been able to remember one recurring image that has appeared in your subconscious for the last few nights in a row. A certain shaggy haired, golden eyed someone kissing your forehead, just the remembrance of the sensation is enough to give you the chills again. Of course, there were cowboy dolls and astronaut action figures dancing in the background so the mushiness of the dream didn’t last too long.

It’s funny how the nostalgia of your childhood could wiggle its way into any dream, conversation, or movie night decision. You didn’t have a particularly cushy childhood but it was stable enough compared to your friends. While little you sat on the floor of your living room rewatching The Lion King for the umpteenth time, Sokka and Katara were mourning the loss of their mother, Aang was shouldering enormous responsibility that isolated him from his grammar school friends, Toph was being sheltered and completely restricted from most activities by her parents, and Zuko. Well Zuko hasn’t shared much about his childhood with you but the parts he did definitely weren’t filled with faith, trust, and pixie dust.

Your thoughtful reminiscing was quickly interrupted by Sokka barging through the front door, carrying three cups of Jasmine Dragon tea. While handing one cup to his sister and one cup to you, a devilish smirk grew on his face.

“You got your boyfriend sick.”

“My what?”

“You heard me. Iroh told me he came in for his shift all wheezing and hacking and snivelly and had to send him home. Sounds a lot like someone I know.”

“I- Sokka, Zuko isn’t my boyfriend. “

“Yeah, yeah, and I’m not the funniest, sexiest, strongest, most talented man on the planet.”

You heard Katara nearly choke on her orange juice and you reached to pat her on the back before grabbing your wallet and house keys.

“Okay well, I don’t have time to unpack all of that with you. I have to get to the diner.”

At this point, Sokka had already made his bowl of cereal and with a very full mouth, he seemed to be talking to his spoon more so than you. “That’s because you know it’s Zuko.”

“What?”

“I said tell Suki I love her!”

With a roll of your eyes, you headed out the door. For a few moments, you grumbled to yourself over the annoyance of Sokka’s teasing. But very quickly into your walk to the diner, a wave of guilt rushed over you. Zuko is sick with the flu. You knew you shouldn’t have snuggled up to him or cried on his shoulder while watching Toy Story 2!

“Okay but it’s not all my fault. He’s the one that kissed me on my feverish forehead. That was a mistake,” you mumbled to yourself.

Once at the diner, you headed to the workroom to get your apron but before starting the breakfast shift, you took out your phone to send a quick text.

hey heard you were sick :( how ya doing?

Not a minute goes by before you get a response.

Uncle exaggerates. I’m completely fine.

Letting out a sigh, you wonder how you could have met anyone as stubborn as you. The small smile forming on your lips is quickly erased by the sound of your manager calling for you to get on the floor. Your sick friend would have to wait.

The morning shift started out the same as it always had, and you were grateful for the routine after being out sick for the past week. A couple of the regulars welcomed you back with warm smiles and kind tips, while you still made sure to avoid small talk with some of the other diner patrons. Seriously, what was up with that cabbage obsessed man? The morning hours seemed to fly by with ease. Just as you were refilling a coffee pot, however, your calm routine was shattered when you noticed a very pale, black-haired man slouched over one of your tables.

“What are you doing here?” you whisper-yelled at him before passing his table to refill one of your other table’s coffee mugs.

“Getting some breakfast,” he whispered back, propping his droopy head up on his hand.

“Well it’s almost lunch now, you idiot.”

“Getting some brunch then.” A dopey smile appeared on his face but you could see in his eyes that he must not have slept well last night.

“Zuko,” you said, almost scolding. “You shouldn’t be here. You have the flu.”

“I do not. I’m just tired. Can I have some coffee, please?”

“If you’re just tired, why do you sound all congested?” you asked as you poured some coffee for him.

“Allergies,” he replied simply but unconvincingly.

“Oh my god, Zuko,” you began to raise your voice but immediately regretted it when you saw your friend raise his hands to his head. A migraine no doubt, the memory of those still fresh in your head from your own bout with the flu. Lowering your voice, you spoke to him again.

“Why did you come here when you’re sick?”

“It’s Tuesday. I always come in for breakfast on Tuesdays to see you.”

Goddamnit. After being out for a week, you completely lost track of what day it was. Also goddamnit again. Zuko really dragged himself out just to keep up this little ritual even though he looks AWFUL. Okay, not completely awful because somehow even when he’s sick, the way he looks at you could give you chills and suddenly you’re remembering that forehead kiss again and--

“Excuse me, miss? Can I get some more orange juice?”

“Yes, of course. One moment please,” you snap out of your thoughts and reply to your waiting tables.

Before going over to satisfy your customer’s request, however, you turn back to Zuko with a gentle smile. “I’ll bring you some toast and some fruit. I’m sure that’s all you’ll be able to keep down anyways.”

It didn’t take long for the kitchen to fill Zuko’s order and once it was complete, you headed back over to his direction. You had to stop right in your tracks for a moment though and take in the picture before you. In the booth sat a sleepy little Zuko still perched up on his hand but his eyes have fluttered shut. Noiselessly, you place down his plate of toast and fruit in front of him and gently nudge his shoulder to wake him up.

“Hey, sleepyhead. Eat as much as you can. I’ve got one more table to take care of before my shift ends. Then you can drive me home. If you can stay awake, that is.”

“Mmmmmm thanks,” he muttered into his hand. 

You left him to pick at his food while you finished up with your last table. When you returned to Zuko about twenty minutes later, you jokingly congratulated him on eating half of his toast and a couple pieces of cantaloupe-- probably more than you had eaten when you had the flu yourself. As you started taking away his plate, you caught Zuko reaching into his pocket to take out his wallet. Knowing what little you actually served him, you stopped him before he could take out more bills than was necessary.

“No, stop. We talked about this. I don’t take tips from friends.”

“It’s only fair and it’s the right thing to do.”

“No. You took care of me when I was sick, that covers it fine.”

“How ‘bout another tip? You should wear your hair up more often. It looks nice like that.”

“Here’s one for you. You’re delirious. Give me your keys, I’m driving.”

With that, your shift was over and you were gathering your things to go home. Zuko did manage to put up a little bit of a fight over letting you drive but once you shot him your “I’m serious, mister” look, he finally gave in. It was a short drive back home but you couldn’t help but glance over at your passenger every now and again. It was rare to see Zuko in such a state as he is always the put-together one in the friend group. That wave of guilt rushes over you again since you were the one that got him sick in the first place.

“No, it was the forehead kiss. His own fault,” you mumble to yourself.

“What?”

“NOTHING. Uh, Katara still has some leftover soup. Why don’t you come up and have some? OH! And we can finish Toy Story 2 since someone didn’t let me finish it last time.”

“I’ll come for the soup but not for the movie.”

“ZUKO. I was cured by the nostalgic joy of my childhood, it can cure you, too!!”

“I don’t have any ‘nostalgic joy from my childhood’ in case you forgot. My mother left, my father scarred my face, and my sister hates me.”

Thankful you had come to a red light, you looked over to Zuko with concern. But he did not look back. His head was leaning on the window and with his arms folded, he avoided your gaze and continued to stare out the window.

“Well, all the more reason to finish the movie,” you tried to say lightheartedly, but the rest of the drive was silent.

Once you’ve reached the apartment, you ordered Zuko to make himself comfy on the couch while you threw some soup in the microwave. You spy a note on the kitchen counter from Katara explaining that she’s out to lunch with Aang and Sokka went to the gym with Suki. You smiled, happy that you could avoid good-natured sibling teasing for the time being. When the soup was ready, you turned to find Zuko sitting on the couch under a pile of blankets and holding the remote for the DVD player.

“I thought you didn’t want to finish the movie,” you questioned, handing him the bowl of soup.

“But you do.”

Your grinned ecstatically, quickly moving to sit next to him on the couch.

“You shouldn’t get too close. You’ll get sick again.”

“I’m immune now, it’s fine,” you said as you reached to share one of his blankets.

“I’m pretty sure that’s not how it works. At all,” he replied, but his protests ended there as the movie started back up.

As you were getting yourself comfortable on the couch, your arm grazed Zuko’s and your body shook, chilled from the cold skin. Zuko noticed immediately and looked over at you questioningly.

“What’s the matter?”

“Nothing, you’re just cold. Eat your soup, it’ll warm you up.”

“And if I don’t?”

“Um, I had to take those pills when you watched me so the least you can do is eat some soup.”

With a small smirk, Zuko obliged and ate a few spoonfuls of soup before laying back against the couch. You cuddled up closer to him, figuring if the soup doesn’t warm him up, you definitely could. Once you rested your head on his shoulder, his head gently tilted to rest on yours, a much familiar scene from the time you were sick. Although the roles have been reversed this time around, the warmth of happiness bursting through your chest from this closeness is unchanged. You felt his left arm wrap around you before settling at your waist, and you reach up with your right hand to hold onto his. Sure, Toy Story 2 isn’t a romantic movie by any means, but it makes you happy. Just like Zuko does.

The movie ends with Wheezy singing his rendition of “You’ve Got a Friend in Me” and you looked up at Zuko as if to say, “See? I told you Wheezy comes back. I love this part,” but he’s already asleep. It seems like you’ll never be able to get him to watch the whole movie, but you sighed contently anyways. Then, in a fit of sudden boldness, you sat up to inch closer to Zuko and kiss his cheek softly. 

He stirred and looked at you through drowsy, half-closed eyes.

“That’s not fair,” he said. “I can’t kiss you back properly while I’m sick.”

You smiled and leaned in closer.

“I’ll settle for a forehead kiss for now.”

“Deal.” After giving to you what you asked for, he gazed admiringly at you for a few moments before falling back to sleep. You could have sworn he had a dopey grin on his face, too, and you wondered if this is what Katara saw on you the past few nights. You settle back against Zuko’s chest and let his breathing lull you to sleep. The two of you fell into such a deep sleep, while in each other’s arms, that not even the sound of Katara and Sokka double hi-fiving after spotting you both on the couch woke you up.

[wide-eyedscottishlass]

Scarlett and the Professor

[continued from]

moodboard by @strangelock221b​

author’s note : Reader may recall the many references to Scarlett’s preternatural connection to the Sea. This chapter reveals that her Professor has a true, supernatural connection of his own.

His study door was open, but Scarlett lightly knocked upon it anyway, as much from good manners as from believing that such behavior was still very much within the expected parameters of their relationship. “Come on in, m’dear,” was his distracted sounding reply.

Hennessy was seated in the same wingback chair as from the evening before, reading glasses perched on his nose, a red, felt tip pen in hand as he marked up the quiz sheet he held in the other. A stack of papers sat on the side table next to his chair. He glanced up at her over his glasses, then squinted and pursed his lips. “Darling, didn’t you bring a change of clothing? Or do you plan to swan about in my dressing gown all day?”

Yet again, Scarlett felt her cheeks burn with embarrassment. “Well, yes, Sir, I…I did. But I thought you meant for me to see you first.”

“Oh, right,” he nodded, quirking a quick smile, “Not that you don’t look lovely in it, of course.” Scarlett was thinking how casually handsome he looked, his thick, dark hair still wet from his shower and meticulously slicked back, with him wearing a navy blue, athletic fit polo which accented his broad shoulders and firm pecs—reminding her of how thrilled she’d been to pamper them with moist, hungry kisses during their many hours of play the night before. A pair of grey Adidas track pants and well-worn leather boat shoes completed his relaxed look.

“Thank you.” Scarlett fidgeted with her sash, without a clue of what to say next—though Hennessy soon solved that for her, casting her an indulgent smirk. 

“I’ll be tied up here for a bit longer, so feel free to keep yourself occupied. You are welcome to explore any of the rooms on the first floor, and the grounds if you so wish.” His eyes seemed to drill into hers with his next instruction, “However, I must insist that you refrain from entering any room on the second floor other than my bedroom suite.” His gaze raked her from head to toes in a way that made her feel he was numbering her every physical attribute once again—numbering and weighing, as though calculating her worth, before he added quietly, “For there are some things you’re still too delightfully innocent to learn, m’dear.”

She nodded solemnly, her mouth gone dry at the implications. “I’ll leave you to this, then,” she offered, and then turned to leave, reaching the door before he called her back.

“Scarlett, there was a question you asked earlier which I never got to answer…wasn’t there?”

“Yes,” she blinked in surprise.

Hennessy nodded forbearingly, “In light of the…advance…in our relationship, I can offer you several options.” He whet his lips, then continued, “I don’t especially care for ‘Sir’, but if it’s a kink you enjoy, I’ll allow it. ‘Professor’ is fine as well, and you may also address me as ‘Hennessy’—many of my lovers do. But don’t even think of using my given name…” He chuckled. “It’s the single least sexy name in the world, and I only tolerate it from my mother.”

“Alright,” she replied softly, though he appeared to have something more to add.

“And as you are quite soft and…” he paused and inhaled deeply, as though he had caught a trace of her musk on the air, “…mmmmm…deliciously romantic, my sweet little lamb, a few terms of endearment are not uncalled for, as long as you don’t use them excessively…”

“Uh-huh,” she smiled, feeling exactly that sort of softness for him now.

“...and I do find I’m rather fond of that Scottish thing you’ve called me...”

“My...my jo,” she nearly whispered.

“Yes! My jo---I like that,” he exclaimed, “Quite more than I ever would have expected.” Hennessy flashed her wink and a toothy grin. “It’s back to work for me now, my jo---but I’ll come find you when I’m done.”

He turned his attention back to his task, so that Scarlett finally departed, certain that he would find her exactly as promised when the time came around.

          _________________________________________________

She decided to forgo the exploration for the time being, knowing that she needed a good washing up instead---and rather wishing that later Hennessy might give her a tour of the place himself. Back in his bedroom, she picked up her discarded items and fully opened the French doors, drinking in the warmth of the sunshine and the gorgeous view of the sea from his balcony. I should sketch this some time, she mused, though in truth she wasn’t sure if this might turn out to be her only opportunity.

Scarlett’s change of clothes was simple and modest when compared to how she’d outfitted herself for their evening tryst. Still, she laid what she had out on the bottom of the bed; a gauzy, white peasant blouse, stonewashed denim clam diggers, and a white lace bra with matching knickers. Casual and comfortable, for she had actually expected she would be wearing them as she headed home with the morning light, or even sooner. While never having imagined the several ways that Hennessy would have her through the night.

Mmmmm. Hennessy. And the things he had already taught her. Nothing in her sheltered world had prepared her for the brazen craving that she felt at just the thought of him and the divine sins he had tutored her in. She was craving him even now, like an addict for a fix.

But it wasn’t just the physical leading her to feel this way. There was his astonishing duality. He could be brutally honest, caustic, selfish, and even cruel---yet he had been so gentle with her at the moments she had needed it the most, and he was brilliant, funny, and surprisingly kind when the spirit moved him. As when he had finally gotten around to taking her maidenhead, and in the aftermath. No matter what might transpire between them going forward, at least part of her heart would be forever his, from that alone.

Oh, Hennessy was supremely confident and self-possessed, but beneath the facade he showed the world, Scarlett sensed bitter self-contempt and secrets that he had resolved to hide even from himself. Deep and painful secrets, surely related to the mysterious scars he bore. Her unerring intuition and gentle empathy---gifts come down through the ages to her, courtesy of her ancient Selkie blood---made her ache to know why. And to provide some consolation, were he ever to allow her into his heart.

She closed her eyes and with the freshness of recent memory she pictured the sight of him looking out his balcony doors to the sea, marveling again at sheer physical beauty of his form, and then shivering as she had last evening as she recalled seeing those brutish marks for the first time. Certain that would be imprinted on her heart forever as well. The urge to capture that moment had her moving to grab her sketchbook and pencils from her bag even before she even made the conscious decision. It might be foolhardy, she told herself, and surely he would not be pleased---if her were to know. But Scarlett felt the strong need to do so nevertheless.

She took a seat on the tufted ottoman, and as was the way when she was deeply inspired, she set to work with ease, lightly penciling in an outline of Hennessy and then sketching the details of the French doors, balcony, and the night sky with the round, fat moon framed by storm clouds, and its watery reflection on the distant waves. Next she lovingly attended to his details; his stillness as he stood enrapt, the restrained tension in the straightness of his posture, the sculpted beauty of his broad shoulders and long, lean back. Once she was satisfied that the image held true as it could to her vision, she filled in the ladder of scars---blinking back a tear or two as she wondered again how such a travesty had come to be.

Pleased with her work, Scarlett tucked her supplies away, then rose and headed to the loo, intent on treating herself to a hot, soothing bath. Muscle aches from the vigor of the night’s workout had begun to announce themselves, and Hennessy’s tub was the irresistible remedy.

                  __________________________________________

While the tub filled, Scarlett had taken the time to pin up her hair, and then had rolled up one of the plush towels as a cushion for the back of her head once she leaned back against the far end. Hennessy’s bathtub was longer and deeper than any she’d ever used before---no surprise as it was just another element of a lifestyle dedicated to hedonism.

A small, shelved wire rack hung off the lip of the tub, holding body wash, shampoo, a loofa and a sea sponge. And no surprise once more, as Scarlett noted that in addition to body wash that echoed Hennessy’s sea-themed cologne, there were  a couple of smaller bottles in decidedly feminine scents---reminding her that she wasn’t the first, nor would she be the last, houseguest to enjoy the benefits of his inner sanctum. After sliding into the water, she wet the sponge and squeezed  a generous amount of jasmine and orange blossom body wash onto it, creating a luxurious foam when she scrubbed her neck, shoulders, upper chest and arms. Next, she washed her legs all the way down to her insteps and toes, and then set the sponge aside and nestled back against the tub, closing her eyes and breathing slowly and deeply, letting the hot water work its magic.

Scarlett wasn’t  sure how much time had passed before she opened her eyes, although the water remained comfortably warm. She has sensed that she was no longer alone, yet still felt surprised when she discovered Hennessy casually watching her only a step or two from the tub. “Ohhhh,” she inhaled, then rushed to add, “I hope this is alright.” Although he had already seen her every detail, somehow she felt vulnerable with only the slowly dissolving suds between her bare skin and his avid gaze.

“Of course it is, my sweet,” he assured her gregariously, “In fact, it’s...hmmm...simply perfect.” 

The warmth of the water couldn’t keep her skin from from prickling with goosebumps of anticipation, for she knew from his look as well as his tone what he meant by ‘perfect’. “Done with those papers then, Professor?” she asked innocently.

He t’sk’d as he crouched beside the tub, shaking his head, “Not quite, no. But you see, I suddenly found myself rather distracted...” Hennessy reached to cup her jaw in his palm and ran his thumb along her bottom lip; instinctively she lowered her lashes and kissed it. “Now that’s my bonnie lass,” he drawled, slipping his thumb between her lips, “My wet and slippery water nymph...”

“Might...might you care to join me,” she asked after giving it a gentle suck, eager to move over to  give him room.

He wore an air of mystery, amusement, inevitability. “I probably will---eventually. But there’s something I’d like to show you first.” He withdrew his hand and added, “A special treat because you’ve been such a good, good girl.”

Scarlett’s heart had begun to race a bit, as she wondered what sort of act could make him sound and look almost diabolical---although whatever it was, she couldn’t deny her curiosity, or her need to please him by obeying.”

“I know you didn’t mean to interrupt me, Scarlett, for there are things you’ve yet to learn about my nature. Now seems the ideal opportunity for that.” His knowing smile was both beautiful and wicked. “The fact is, darlin’, I could feel the water running as you drew the bath. It called to me like a veritable invitation,” he growled, lust shamelessly stamped upon his patrician features.

Though mystified by his statement, her cheeks burned with unrepentant desire to learn what lesson her was offering now. Scarlett watched him hold up his forefinger and then dip it up to the second knuckle in the bathwater. Immediately, ripples of concentric circles moved outward from it, as they would for a stone cast into a body of water. Hennessy’s eyes then captured hers as he barely stirred the water, and he was grinning as he waited for her response to what came next.

Scarlett gasped at the sudden sensation as a current of water strikingly warmer than the bath washed across her submerged torso. He mouth dropped open, “Oh...oh myyyy...”

Hennessy simply nodded, though his pupils had grown large enough to leave visible only a thin crescent of his sea blue irises.

The warmer water seemed to coalesce around her breasts until it felt like it was cupping them while slowly pulsing around them. Like the flex of strong, warm hands. Like his hands. And when tendrils of heated water began to stroke her nipples, drawing them to hard peaks, Scarlett gasped at the divine sensation, then exhaled a long, molten moan. “How? How is this possible,” she whispered, laying her head back against the rolled towel. 

Hennessy laid his other forefinger across his lush lips, swift to command her, “Ssssssshhhhhh...don’t question it, love...just trust in me as you have all along.”

“I will...I do...” she nodded, gasping again when thick, heated tendrils kissed both of her insteps, then slowly began to twine up her legs. The water continued to caress her breasts, deliciously teasing her nipples so that it nearly felt she was being suckled. A small part of her brain warned that there was devilry in what her lover was doing---but need and desire overrode those cares, for Scarlett knew full well what was coming next.

Those tendrils had wrapped around her thighs, pulsing against her skin while their ends insinuated themselves between them. As much as she expected it, her eyes still flew open at the impossibility of them brushing up and down the length of her slit, while seeking her tender, secret flesh and then spreading her open and spoiling her with pleasure as strongly and as surely as though they were Hennessy’s talented fingers themselves. She groaned as she undulated beneath them, knowing what he intended for her.

Indeed, one of the columns of water thickened and became more dense as the other continued to stroke her clit, and then began to seek entry. Scarlett needed to see him, her lover and teacher, this mysterious creature who had captured her soul and now appeared to possess power over the element of water itself. The look of concentration on his face was mesmerizing, and when the thick, hot shaft of water finally slid inside her, he looked absolutely victorious.

The water was smooth and hot and driving so deeply into her that she keened again and again, and it wasn’t long until she was gripping white-knuckled onto the lip of the tub with both hands as she bucked her hips into his glorious onslaught. Hennessy had begun to moan quietly and when she managed to look at him again, a fine sheen of sweat stood upon his brow and above his lips. “Yessssss,” he hissed, “You’re my wicked little angel, aren’t you, love...made...made just for me...” He was panting hard, as though with effort to bring her to climax, “...a gift...a gift of the Sea...”

In that moment, that was exactly what Scarlett wanted to be; Hennessy’s in every way imaginable, belonging to him shamelessly. “Oh pleeeeeeeease...finish me, my jo,” she cried out, beyond all thought of sin, craving only what this spectacular devil willed for her, “Make...me...cum...cum for you...” Whatever spell he was working reached its peak, and Scarlett came hard in a glorious frenzy, until her body went limp and she nearly slid beneath the surface. As Hennessy grabbed her to keep her afloat, the heated tendrils dissolved, dispersing their warmth into the surrounding water and leaving behind only their effects upon her---waves and waves of diminishing after throes, eventually making her shake from the power of her release.

When her body finally relaxed, Scarlett opened her eyes to find him watching her closely again and looking incredibly pleased with himself. “I dare say you’re squeaky clean now, my sweet,” he observed, “And that was delicious, don’t you agree?”

She nodded slowly as words failed her for several breaths, while her rational mind insisted that she had to be dreaming everything that had happened since she’d initially laid her head back and closed her eyes. “No, you’re not dreaming, my jo,” he assured her. That expression coming from him was like a surprising, gentle caress. One that could only leave her covetous for more of the same. “I swear to you that what just happened is very, very real.”

Scarlett barely found her voice enough to ask, “But...how? How could that be?”

Hennessy pursed his fulsome lips and raised a single brow, “Explanations can wait for later.” A greedy expression now colored his dear, handsome face as he rose to stand---a look that echoed the way his loose track pants now tented across his erection. “But right now,” he told her while he pulled off his shirt and let drop his pants where he stood, “I’m going to claim what is rightfully mine.”

And though she had just been fully satisfied, Scarlett felt her nipples tighten in anticipation as he stepped into the water, while the gorgeous ache to have him fill her again...to have him take her mercilessly...had the muscles all throughout her pelvis reawaken with that sinfully luscious need.

tagging: @strangelock221b​ @ben-c-group-therapy​ @ben-locked​ @letterstosherlock​ @splunge4me2art​ @ravencatart​ @doctor-stephenstrange​ @aeterna-auroral-avenger​ @humanbornarchangel​ @frowerssx-world​ @tsukuyomi011​ @emilyinnj4real​ 

[rithmatistkalyna]

Happy Republic of Two Systems Independence Day! 

Guess what y’all, it’s time for tea flavored truffles. Specifically, Lavender Earl Grey, Jasmine Green, and Chai truffles. Now, I make chocolate truffles on a semi-regular basis and I’ve experimented with lots of flavors, many of which have been very good. I’ve been halfheartedly meaning to experiment with using tea as a flavoring for a while, but not getting to it because the tea flavors seem so delicate compared to the chocolate and I was sure the tea was going to be overwhelmed. Y’all. I could not have been more wrong. These came out amazing. I packed up a baggie of them and left them in the carport for one of my friends to stop by and pick up and she reported back that they were bliss. These recipes are going very solidly into my flavor rotations (and they’re also pretty simple and will be available under the cut). First though, pictures of the finished products.

It’s Ro2SID, so, naturally, we have to have eggs and chicks so that we can endlessly annoy Sphene:

peep peep peep peep!

In honor of the Athoek gardens, we have the lovely green and purple fish, and the red and yellow roses:

And, since the mold with the fish also has a turtle, a Propriety Turtle:

and now, without further ado, let’s jump under the cut for recipes and process pictures!

Ganache is the fancy word for chocolate that you’ve mixed with cream and maybe also butter and flavorings.

Tea Flavored Ganache:

~130 grams heavy cream (a little over half a cup using US measures, note that you’re going to loose some of this volume in the process)

~200 grams semisweet chocolate chips (about 1 1/4 US cups)

1 heaping tsp of your tea of choice. If you are using bagged tea, my guess is that 2 bags would be a good idea

Put the heavy cream in a tiny sauce pan and put it on the stove on low. You want it nice and warm, but you don’t want the cream to boil. Stir the tea into the cream and let it simmer and steep for a while. I didn’t time it, but I got it set and then went off and browsed tumblr for a bit, so... You want the cream to taste distinctly of your chosen tea. It’s going to take longer than it usually takes you to brew a cup of tea because we are going for low and slow brewing here. Once your cream is nice and tea flavored, get a bowl with the chocolate chips and pour the warm cream through a tea strainer over the chocolate. Use a spoon to mash the tea in the strainer to get as much of the cream as possible through. Between the water that has boiled off of the cream and the cream that the tea absorbed you should be somewhere in the ball park of 100 grams of cream. Don’t stress about getting it exactly. In the three batches I made I ended up slightly over and slightly under. It’s fine. Carefully stir the bowl of chocolate chips and warm cream. The cream should melt the chocolate so that, with patience you can get it blended to a nice homogenous mixture. If your cream is cooler than mine (or the chocolate is colder, or the ambient temperature of the room is too low, or...), the chocolate might not melt entirely. If this happens pop the bowl in the microwave for about 15 seconds, or put it over a double boiler on the stove for a bit. The resulting mixture is your truffle filling. It’s going to be fairly runny right now, but if you let it cool for a bit it will thicken up enough to pipe, and if you chill it it will solidify enough to scoop and roll. 

Note:

In general, for truffle filling you want a mix of chocolate and cream that is approximately 2 parts (fairly dark) chocolate, 1 part cream by weight. This will make a nice creamy truffle filling that melts in your mouth but also sets up well if it’s reasonably cool. If you are new to candy making, it might be easier to shift that ratio a little more toward the chocolate. If you are adding an additional liquid flavoring you would want to cut back on the cream. Sometimes my goal is a firmer filling for whatever reason, but this is the ratio I used for these.

Pictures time:

The Lavender Earl Grey tea I used. It’s a Kroger brand. The lavender in it was very subtle. A traditional Earl Grey would be just as good. It’s reminiscent of orange chocolate, but so much better and far, far easier than the attempts I’ve made in the past at doing a citrusy chocolate truffle. 

We’ve got a local world market that is a giant warehouse of a grocery store and that’s where I got this tub of Jasmine pearls. You wouldn’t need to use pearls, its just what I happened to have on hand. 

I don’t have a good picture of the chai - one of my friends brought the tea I used back for me when she visited India and it came in a bag that I dumped into a mason jar. It’s not particularly photogenic, but it’s delicious.

You want a heaping teaspoon of the tea to go in your cream.

Once it is simmered with the tea, strain the cream into your bowl of chocolate chips. I started with 200 g of chocolate chips, so once I strained the cream here I ended up with 94 g. That’s absolutely close enough. 

Stir til it’s nice and smooth. Now you have truffle filling! (or, you know, eat it with a spoon, or put it on ice cream, or spread it on a scone or toast or something).

If you want to do molded truffles like the ones in the first part of this post, set the filling aside to cool off and set up a bit and get your mold out.

I got this egg mold on clearance after Easter at Michaels a few years ago. Here you can see that I’ve melted candy melts in a tiny mason jar. It’s not strictly necessary, but if you get a tub of EZ Thin and add a bit it definitely will make this easier. I’ve used a small paint brush (that is designated only for food things) to start painting the yellow details in the depressions of the mold.

For the two tone roses, I didn’t actually fill the depressions like I did for the eggs. Instead I aimed to get the yellow down in the deepest parts of the crevices, but left it so you can see the pink mold sticking out. When adding the red (or the green I added to the eggs after the yellow) the goal becomes to make sure the mold is covered and you can’t see it peaking through.

For extra structural integrity, add a layer of melted chocolate. If you want you can absolutely skip the candy melts step and go straight to coating the molds with chocolate. You can also skip the chocolate and just use candy melts as your coating. As you can see, I have my chocolate in a larger mason jar, which can either be microwaved or set in a water bath to heat and melt the chocolate. If you want really professional chocolates you can mess with tempering. If you just want something delicious it isn’t necessary, so I’m not going to go into the details here. There are two key things to keep in mind when working with melted chocolate:

1) Chocolate actually burns pretty easily, so be careful not to get it too hot. If it’s too runny it also won’t coat the mold well - you want it liquid, but still kind of thick. If you get it too runny, you can add more solid chocolate as you stir to help it cool down faster (a very careful version of this is also, incidentially, how to temper chocolate).

2) Chocolate and water are not friends. If you are using a water bath, be very careful not to get water in the chocolate. If you do, the chocolate will seize up clumpy and not want to melt nicely again. You can use seized chocolate to make more ganache, but not for coating. 

Once the chocolate hardens (either because you were patient or because you stuck it in the freezer for a few minutes to speed it up), add the filling almost-but-not-quite to the top of the mold-you want to be able to seal the filling in. You can spoon it in, but the easiest way I’ve found is to scoop the ganache into a ziplock baggie, cut a tiny triangle off one of the corners and pipe the cool but not cold filling in. If your room is warm, room temperature is fine. If it’s cold, you might want to hold the baggie of chocolate in your hands and let them warm it up a little before you try to pipe. 

If your room is cool enough you can just let the filled truffles sit for a bit, or you can pop it in the fridge or freezer so that the filling firms up nicely. Once it’s firmed up, use melted chocolate to finish filling the molds and seal in the filling. Unfortunately I failed to get a picture of that step. Then you get one last round of chilling/patience and your chocolates are ready for you to carefully pop them out of the mold. Be especially careful if you are doing something like the turtle that has limbs that are easily broken off. 

Hooray! Extra delicious homemade chocolate truffles!

But Kaly! What if I don’t have a chocolate mold?! 

No worries! I made chocolates for a couple of years before I discovered that chocolate molds were a thing you could buy at the craft store. I’m going to use a silicone mat in the next picture, but I’ve absolutely used a cheap plastic plate or parchment paper and had it work just fine!

On the right you can see the naked truffle fillings. I chilled the bowl of filling in the fridge until it was like firm clay and then used a spoon to scoop out small bits that I rolled into balls in the palms of my hands. This ends up warming them back up a bit, so once you have a batch rolled, pop it in the freezer for a couple minutes. Then carefully dip each filling one at a time into your melted chocolate. and set it on your mat/plate/parchment paper to cool and dry. The first time you try this you will likely get chocolate everywhere. Just be aware it’s going to happen and embrace the delicious mess. With practice you can get less messy. You can also roll the truffle fillings in something like finely chopped nuts or cocoa powder instead of dipping them. The green tea ones would probably be really good rolled in matcha powder! 

If you have any questions, feel free to ask! 

[madeleinedrinkstea]

TEASER: Super Fruitea, Grape Quencher, 3 Homies

Tried Super Fruitea, Grape Quencher and 3 Homies

I'll start with the best tea - the Grape Quencher. Teaser really shines when it comes to ice-blended fruit drinks topped with cheese foam. The foam is luxurious - smooth, rich and tastes like cheesecake. It's heavier than foams from some competitors (e.g., it's not as fluffy as Gong Cha's milk foam), though it's still aerated and somewhat runny. It's one of my favourite milk foams.

It pairs perfectly with the blend of Jamsmine tea and fresh grapes - it adds creaminess to take the edge off the natural sweetness of the grapes. The bottom of the drink has a layer of grape juice. which creates a sensory suprise as you sample each layer of the drink.

The 3 Homies and the Super Fruitea are less extraordinary by my books, although my husband will happily slurp up a 3 Homies no matter the season. The 3 Homies is a standard milk tea with boba, grass jelly and egg pudding. The milk tea itself is nice, but not memorable in the way that a Truedan or Machi Machi milk tea is for me. The Super Fruitea distinguishes itself by its sheer volume - it comes in at 1L and a generous serve of fruit (apple, strawberries, passionfruit, pineapple, watermelon and orange). I found that the fruit didn't infuse the Jasmine tea very strongly compared to competitors (although potentially competitors are adding fruit juices to intensify the flavour). That said, it's refreshing and makes me feel good about my life choices - the type of drink I'd choose on a hot summer day when I'm less interested in eating food and craving some hydration.

[darks-ink]

Ectober Week day 5: Harvest (AO3)(FFN)

Sequel to day 2: Disappearance/Alone, which I would recommend reading for context, but it’s not necessary, per se. No content warnings apply.

Vlad harvests the results of his newest plan to get his perfect little family.

The first few days after Danny returned home were a mess. Everyone was constantly trailing behind him, checking up on him, and being affectionate to him. They meant well, Danny knew, but he had spend the last year in the Ghost Zone with only Wulf for company. And while Wulf was also very loving, there was a big difference in how he showed it compared to Danny’s family and friends.

And beside the coddling by his loved ones, there was also the matter of official business. Danny had been missing for well over a year, and while the police might not have believed his parents when they were first called in, the constant presence of ghosts in Amity Park had changed their minds.

So now Danny (and his loved ones) had to explain how Danny had survived for so long in an environment like the Ghost Zone, and how he had gotten back. In the end, they cobbled together a mostly-true story involving Wulf and Phantom.

And then there was the matter of school. Danny had gone missing just after the start of his freshman year of high school, and had returned several months into the next school year. Several options were discussed, and in the end they decided that Danny was to join the freshman class next year. This way, he had time to recover from his traumatic experiences, or so the school decided.

Danny’s parents thought this gave them a good opportunity to settle Danny back into regular life, and Danny hoped that he could use this time to find a good balance between ‘regular life’ and what had been his regular life the past year; ghost hunting.

His parents were of the opinion that he should give up ghost hunting, of course, but were eventually swayed by the tag-team of Danny and Jazz – Danny didn’t want to stop, and Jazz thought that ghost hunting had become such a vital part of Danny’s life that quitting would have severe negative impacts on him.

So instead the Fentons and Phantom developed their truce into a proper alliance, making sure to wait a few weeks so no-one would connect Danny’s return to this sudden development, and the three of them started ghost hunting together.

Danny also taught his parents about the Ghost Zone, and its resident ghosts. They created extensive Ghost Files, focusing first on the ghosts that targeted Amity Park, but also noting all of Danny’s friends and allies.

Of course, after a few weeks of smothering by his loved ones, Danny was getting pretty sick of it. Sam and Tucker had listened to his begging and had started backing off, giving Danny time and space to himself, and Jazz’s extensive knowledge about psychology meant that she could tell that he couldn’t handle it anymore, but his parents struggled to do the same.

Having learned that their Portal was directly responsible for Danny’s disappearance, rather than indirectly like they had thought, meant that their previously collected grief and guilt had multiplied thousandfold. They tried to make up for it, and Danny loved them for it, but not even patrols or ghost fighting could get them off of his tail.

So when, roughly a month after he had come home, his mom and sister received an invitation to some kind of event in Florida, he was quick to jump on the opportunity.

They didn’t want to go, not without him, but the letter was quite clear about it. The invitation from the DALV company was directed towards Madeline Fenton and her daughter Jasmine Fenton, asking them to attend a mother/daughter science symposium in Florida, all expenses paid for.

In the end, Danny convinced them to go, telling them that he could spend the time doing some father/son bonding with his dad.

Mere hours after his mother and Jazz had left, the first ghost attacked. It wasn’t a particularly threatening ghost, just some kind of mutant animal, and Danny watched his dad deal with it without breaking a sweat. The only thing noteworthy about the encounter was that it had attacked FentonWorks, rather than some random civilian in the streets. But Danny and his dad shrugged it off, and went back to tinkering with some of their ghost hunting equipment.

But it wasn’t long before another ghost attacked, and another, and then suddenly they started attacking as one massive group.

Separately, they weren’t anything special. They were all animal ghosts, no more intelligent than their living counterparts, and all seemed to be based on North American animals, though severely mutated. Danny could spot rabbits, wolves, bears, and even a few beavers, among others. It was a rather bizarre ensemble, but not terribly threatening.

It was still rather suspicious, however. The large group of them, all specifically targeting FentonWorks, made Danny suspect that someone had send them on purpose. Whoever had send them clearly hadn’t counted on Danny’s presence, however, since it was clearly meant to be an ambush, intended to quickly overwhelm the humans present.

Danny’s ghost sense alerted him preemptively, and when the ghosts arrived, they were met by a transformed Danny Phantom and a well-equipped Jack Fenton.

The first ghost phased through the door, and was immediately blasted out again by a well-aimed ecto-ray from Danny. The next few followed the same pattern, getting knocked out the moment they came in by either Danny or his dad.

The ghosts wizened up and tried entering in a larger group, but Danny simply called on his cryokinesis and froze them solid, and his dad swiftly captured the immobile ghosts in a Fenton Thermos.

This seemed to drive the attacking ghosts into desperation, as they suddenly stormed inside, all of them attacking together. They were quick to pick up on the bigger threat, and went exclusively after Danny.

They were no match for Danny, however, and he swiftly dealt with them. He saw his dad picking off the stragglers, but the man avoided shooting the mass of ghosts, obviously afraid of hitting his son by accident.

After the ghosts were all dealt with, the two ghost hunters were left with barely a scratch on them, grinning at each other victoriously.

“Good job Danny-boy!” Jack crowed, clapping his son on the shoulder with such force that Danny flipped over mid-air.

“Thanks dad,” he answered, rubbing the back of his neck as he righted himself again.

He watched the man wander back downstairs, carrying several Thermoses filled with ghostly animals, and he couldn’t help wondering who had sent the ghosts after them, and more importantly, why. They weren’t targeting Danny, as he had feared, because they clearly hadn’t expected him to be there.

But he couldn’t think of anyone, and he decided that he had more productive things to do with his time, so he phased through the floor to rejoin his dad in the lab.

Vlad eyed the papers lying on his desk with contempt. He enjoyed his role as billionaire, and the power that came with it, but he could honestly do without the paperwork.

Playing with people, manipulating them to play to his wishes, was something he liked. To maintain his power to do so, he needed to do paperwork. He knew this very well.

That didn’t make it any less boring, though.

His thoughts wandered back to his latest plan to get his hands on the ever-stunning Maddie, and to get rid of the oaf that called himself her husband, Jack. He had send Maddie and her daughter (who seemed to be taking after her, rather than that idiot of a father) off to Florida, and had arranged for several of his mutant animals to attack Jack while he was alone.

While he was forced to admit that Jack and Maddie were a fairly competent ghost-hunting team, it was clear that Maddie was the main force. Without her, Jack would easily be overwhelmed by the mass of ghosts that Vlad had send after him.

He glanced at the papers again, before standing up, his mind made up. It had been a day since he had send out the ghosts, and he was sure that they had succeeded by now.

He is eager to reap the benefits of his ingenious plan, and set off to travel to Amity Park.

When Vlad arrives at FentonWorks, he’s… rather surprised. He had expected to find absolute carnage, the building wrecked by the flood of barely-sentient ghosts he had set upon it. Instead the house stood tall and proud, the bizarre metal contraption still balanced on top, and the garish neon sign still hung from the front as well.

In fact, the whole building seemed entirely undamaged. There was nothing that suggests that the ghosts had been here, but Vlad knows they must have been. There was a barely-noticeable hint of ectoplasm in the air which hinted at a large-scale ghost encounter, but it might also be a side-effect from the constant presence of ghosts in Amity Park.

He floats there for what feels like an eternity, wondering how his minions had failed, before deciding to throw caution to the wind and find out.

He glances around, making sure that there is no one around to see, and then transforms back to his human form, returning to the visible plane as well.

He hesitates for a moment with his finger hovering over the doorbell, steels himself for the apparently inevitable encounter with Jack Fenton that he was going to have to suffer through, and presses down. He listens for the thundering footsteps of the oaf, but it stays quiet. He considers the possibility that his animals had been successful after all and simply hadn’t damaged the building in the process, but then the door opens.

Standing in the opening isn’t Jack, however. The boy bore a clear resemblance to him, with black hair and crystalline blue eyes, but he was smaller and much slighter, and dressed in a t-shirt and jeans instead of a blindingly orange jumpsuit.

Vlad recognizes the boy, of course. He had seen plenty of pictures, had listened to Maddie and consoled her in the hopes of winning her over, knowing that the boy was likely long-dead. No one survived for long in the Ghost Zone.

Yet here the boy stood, frowning at him. Vlad groans inwardly as he realized that the boy didn’t know him, but flashes him a polite smile regardless.

He wasn’t sure how Daniel ‘Danny’ Fenton had found his way home after his lengthy trip into the Ghost Zone, but he was already here to solve one mystery, so he might as well attempt to solve this one too.

“I don’t believe we’ve met before, have we? Vlad Masters, pleased to meet you,” he introduces himself, offering his hand to the boy.

“Uhm, no, I don’t think so. I’m Danny. Uh, Danny Fenton.” He shakes Vlad’s hand, but continues to eye him with barely-hidden suspicion.

“Ah, the missing son, home at last. Your parents must be so happy to have you back.”

“Yeah, I guess so… No offense, but why does it matter to you?”

“They haven’t mentioned me, have they? I guess it’s not too surprising, as they likely had other things on their minds. I’m an old friend from college, and we’ve recently reconnected. Are they home, perchance?” He shot another winning smile in the direction of the boy, but it was clearly ignored.

“Mom is away with Jazz, but dad is home. If you come in I’ll go get him from the lab.” He steps away from the door to let Vlad in, and Vlad gladly entered.

“Please do, thank you.”

Danny vaguely points him towards the couch in the living room before racing off towards the kitchen, where Vlad knew the door to the lab was located. He couldn’t hear the conversation between the boy and his father, but the thundering footsteps coming up the stairs are hard to miss.

Jack bounces over and grasps Vlad in a bone-crushing hug of the Fenton variety, but was quickly coaxed to let go by his son.

“V-man, what a surprise! I see you’ve met Danny already!” he booms, and Vlad barely stops himself from wincing at the sheer volume.

“Yes, and I’m glad to see that he has returned to you in excellent health. Has he been home for long?”

“About a month, give or take. But we’ve been so busy with all the official stuff and informing everyone that we must have forgotten to tell you. Sorry, Vladdie!”

Vlad grimaces at the mention of another of his old nicknames, but quickly smooths out his expression again. “I completely understand, old friend of mine. Mind introducing us? We’ve exchanged names, of course, but I’m afraid I don’t know him outside of his disappearance.”

“Of course, of course! Danny, this is my old friend from college, Vlad Masters! And Vlad, this is my son, Danny!” He claps his son on the back with such force that the boy almost falls over, and Vlad instantly sympathizes with the kid. He briefly wonders how the boy had survived 15 years with this man as his father, but decides that Maddie must have protected her kids from any Jack-related danger.

“Dad,” the boy groans, “he already said all of that at the door when I let him in. Why don’t you tell us something new, like how you two know each other or something?”

Jack smiles broadly at his son. “That’s a great idea! We’ve got so many great stories, Vladdie and I, and some with your mom as well, of course. Let’s sit down on the couch and we can tell you all about our college days, right V-man?”

“Yes, that sounds good.” He moves towards the armchair, no doubt in his mind that Jack would have sat right next to him if he sat on the couch. Danny sat down on the couch instead, and Jack moved to sit right next to him.

They spend a short while talking about the past, about Jack and Vlad sharing a room in college, about their shared research into ghosts, and various other stories. The Proto-Portal and the accident involving it never came up, but Jack didn’t seem to be avoiding the topic on purpose. No, it seemed like it had just slipped his mind, as if it wasn’t important enough to mention. Unbelievable.

Vlad steers the topic back to Danny in the hopes of learning more about his disappearance, but the boy tells him all about everything except his time in the Ghost Zone. The boy seems rather restrained, and keeps eyeing him with suspicion, but Vlad isn’t sure why. Lingering trauma from his interactions with ghosts, maybe?

Suddenly the boy shifts, glancing away from Vlad and his father.

“Ah shoot, sorry dad, Vlad, I completely forgot that I had to meet Sam and Tucker at the Nasty Burger.” He quickly stands up. “It was nice meeting you Vlad, sorry that I have to leave so suddenly.”

Vlad waves him off. “Of course my boy, it was a pleasure meeting you as well. Perhaps another time, hmm?”

Daniel nods, and swiftly exits the house. Vlad watches him leave, and found that he was still no closer to uncovering the truth behind the boy. Well, perhaps it would come up in conversation between him and his friends.

And lucky for Vlad, he was a great spy.

He quickly excuses himself, telling Jack that he has to go to the bathroom. With the door locked, he transforms into his ghost form, duplicates himself, and then has the duplicate turn himself back into Vlad Masters. While he typically would have send a duplicate as his spy, he had already listened to Jack ramble on for far longer than he liked.

He sends the duplicate back to Jack, then turns himself invisible and phases out of the building, hoping to catch Daniel before he met his friends.

The boy turned out to be even easier to find than he had expected, because he hadn’t gone very far at all. Vlad watches the boy duck into an alley right next to the house, and frowns to himself. What was that boy up to?

He flies closer to take a look, and sees Daniel shiver and breathe out a blue mist. What on Earth was going on here?

The boy took on a defensive posture, glancing around himself warily. Vlad wasn’t sure what Daniel was planning on doing if he saw a threat, since it would most likely be a ghost and he didn’t seem to be carrying any weapons.

His question is soon answered, however, by a flash of bright light. He watches as a glowing white ring forms around Daniel’s waist, and oh. Even if the color was different, he knows what this means.

The ring quickly splits apart, and the two white halos follow their path across Daniel’s body. When they disappear, the ghost left behind is one Vlad recognizes from stories and photos – Phantom.

Well, that answers the mystery as to how Daniel survived in the Ghost Zone for over a year. He is a half-ghost, just like Vlad. He couldn’t believe it. Another half-ghost existed! He isn’t alone anymore! And even better, this half-ghost isn’t just anybody, he is Maddie’s son. Vlad has to have this boy as part of his family.

Vlad watches as Phantom (Daniel) launches himself into the air, once again surveying the area. He was clearly prepared for a ghost fight, but why? There was nothing to indicate the presence of another ghost, even if he was right.

But then a scream comes from a house nearby, and Danny zips off towards it. Vlad follows at a more sedate pace, and finds Danny intangibly shoving the Box Ghost through a wall. Once removed from the house, Danny fires an ecto-ray at the other ghost, quickly followed by an ice ray, which freezes the Box Ghost to the wall he had been blasted into.

“Well Boxy, I don’t know how you keep getting out, but hopefully you’ll stay away a little longer this time,” the boy mutters, uncapping the thermos he had slung across his back, and quickly captures the immobilized ghost.

Vlad silently judges the boy’s skills, and found that he was… rather impressed. He knows a thing or two about Phantom, of course, because who didn’t. But knowing about his abilities, and seeing him use them in actual combat are two very different things, especially now that he knew that he was watching a fellow halfa.

Seeing that Danny was about to fly away, and noting that they were in a rather isolated area, Vlad decides that this was a good opportunity to recruit the boy.

He slowly claps his hands, a grin on his face as he returns to visibility. “Well done Daniel, well done.”

The boy stiffens and whirls around, one hand tightened around the Thermos it held while the other started glowing green. He scowls at Vlad, but made no direct move to attack. Clever boy, prepared for a fight but not starting it. “I don’t know who you are and quite frankly I don’t care either. Who told you my name?”

Vlad tuts and shakes his head. “My boy, you told me yourself. Surely you didn’t think you were the only half-ghost in existence, did you?”

Daniel’s eyes widen, and Vlad felt his smile grow wider. “No way, really? But that means...” he trails off, eyes roving over Vlad. “Vlad? Vlad Masters, my dad’s old friend from college?”

And Vlad lets his own transformation wash over him, the black rings taking away Plasmius and returning him back to his human form. “Indeed, the one and only.”

Daniel flies closer, as if in disbelief, still inspecting Vlad. “But you look so- so different. And how? And-, and-”

Vlad raises a hand, stopping Daniel’s barrage of questions. “Slow down, slow down. Yes, I look quite different in my ghost form. It was quite on purpose, I assure you. As for how, an accident in college involving the prototype for your parents’ Ghost Portal.”

Daniel frowns at him. “In college? So you’ve been half-ghost for what, 20 years? But my parents didn’t know about the existence of half-ghosts until I told them. Were they not there when it happened, like when I had my accident?”

“No, they were there. In fact, it was your dad’s fault it happened in the first place. The buffoon plugged in the Portal while I was standing right in front of it, and it exploded outwards, right into my face! I had to go to the hospital for a terrible case of ecto-acne, it took me years to recover.”

“Wait, so did it not… instantly turn you into a ghost? And the explosion only hit your face, not your whole body? Was the prototype smaller than the regular Portal?” Daniel was eyeing Vlad with a calculating look in his eyes. Vlad quietly approved. The boy is clever, clearly takes after his mother. A worthy addition to the Masters family, for sure.

“No, it did not. The Proto-Portal was barely big enough for one to fit their head through, and the contaminated ectoplasm it spewed wasn’t strong enough for such a drastic change. At the time, it only leeched the color out of my hair and caused the ecto-acne. The rest came more slowly.

Which brings me to my next point. You’ve been a half-ghost for what, a year?” Daniel nods. “As you’ve figured out yourself, I’ve had my powers for more than twenty years. Even if your skills are fairly impressive, you could do with proper guidance and training from another hybrid. Join me, and I’ll help you master your powers, teach you everything I know. All you have to do is renounce your idiot father.”

“Dude, you’re nuts. I just got my own family back, and you think I’m gonna abandon them just to join you? No way.” Daniel scowls at him, and Vlad realizes that he had taken the wrong approach to recruiting the boy.

“I’ve done fine figuring out my powers alone, and now I have my friends and family to help too. I don’t need your help.” Daniel looks around them, and nods to himself before turning back to Vlad.

“Look, I’m guessing that you’re not here to cause any trouble, only to talk to me?” Seeing Vlad nod, he continues. “Good, in that case I should get going. My friends are waiting for me.”

Daniel turns around again and speeds off, almost immediately turning himself invisible. Vlad remains in the alley, sorting through his plans. He has to get the boy, but it clearly wasn’t as simple as he had hoped. He would have to win the boy over, make him realize how much better off he would be with Vlad as his father instead of Jack.

The best way to do this, Vlad decides, is to train young Daniel anyway. That way he can show the difference he would make, how much of an improvement he would be over that oaf. But how can he get the boy to agree to training, especially since he just offered it at too high a price?

Well, the boy doesn’t have to accept if his parents do. They must know that Daniel is Phantom, it’s too obvious for clever Maddie to miss, and if she knows then she must have told Jack. And if they accept their son, then they will likely also accept their old college friend.

And if he tells them that he has been half-ghost since the accident in college, then they will surely see the benefits to having him train Daniel.

Yes, that could work. He’ll have to return another time, when Maddie is home. A weekday, so that the children will be at school.

He shifts back to his ghost form and returns to FentonWorks, where he recombines with his duplicate and excuses himself, swiftly leaving the conversation with Jack. He has much to think about, but the seeds for a new plan have been planted. In due time, he will get to harvest the results, his beautiful new family.

And so, roughly a week later, Vlad returns to FentonWorks.

He rings the bell and waits, tracking Jack’s progress to the door based on his thundering footsteps. The door swings open, and there stands the enormous orange idiot himself.

“Vladdie! What a surprise! Come in, come in.” He steps aside to let Vlad in, his whole face lit up in a huge smile.

“Vlad? Surely you didn’t come all the way from Wisconsin just to visit us?” Maddie (wondrous, amazing Maddie) questions as she emerges from the kitchen, pulling down her hood to reveal her stunning violet eyes.

“I did, but worry not, it was no hassle.” Maddie frowns at him, but Jack claps him on the back and starts to guide him towards the couch before she could say anything else.

“Well, I’m glad to see you again V-man! Have a seat, and then we can talk about why you’re here.”

Maddie trails behind them, sitting down next to Jack on the couch. “Yes, although I’m not sure why you couldn’t have called.”

Vlad, seeing that he couldn’t sit on the couch next to Maddie, sits down in the armchair once again. “I could have called, yes, but I wanted to talk about something very important, and I feared it was too… sensitive to discuss over the phone.”

“Vlad, what is this about? Did something happen?”

“Not recently, no. I wanted to talk with you about the accident in college, with the Proto-Portal.”

Maddie and Jack share a confused look with each other, both trying to figure out why he brought it up. Maddie, clever as always, figures it out first. He watches as she grows wide-eyed and stares at him.

“You’re… Are you?”

Jack frowns. “Is he what, Maddie? I don’t get it.”

Vlad ignores the oaf, focuses on Maddie, and nods. “I am.”

He stands up, suddenly, and calls on his ghostly core. A single glowing black ring forms around his waist, where it splits apart and slowly makes it way over his body. The rings transform his expensive black suit into a much simpler white outfit, accessorized with a black belt, black boots, and black gloves. The look is finished by the high-collared cape he wears, the inside as red as his eyes. His skin is an unnatural blue, and his eyes empty and pupil-less. His hair is swept out of its ponytail and into a spiked haircut, as black as it had been before his accident. The rings fade away, and Vlad grins at his love and her husband, revealing sharp fangs.

“You’re- holy moly V-man, you’re-” Jack falls into an uncharacteristic silence, and he and Maddie share a silent conversation.

“Vlad, we’re… we’re so sorry. That this happened to you, and that you felt like you couldn’t tell us about this.” Jack nods, but for once doesn’t speak.

“It’s fine, I assure you. I will admit that I was pretty… peeved, but it’s been twenty years. I’m over it.” He waves off their concerns and returns to human form before sitting back down. “Now, there was something else I wanted to talk about as well.

Your son, Daniel, is a half-ghost as well, correct?”

“How did you find out, Vladdie? I mean, you didn’t even know Danny until you two met last weekend.”

“It was rather obvious to me. But then, I already knew that ghostly hybrids such as us exist, so it was a rather obvious answer for his miraculous survival in the Ghost Zone. But that’s not what I wanted to talk about.”

Maddie frowns at him. “Then what did you want to talk about? You’re the one who brought up Danny.”

“Well, I’ll get straight to the point then. As I mentioned, I’ve had my powers for over twenty years. Your son has had them for barely a year. With my experience, I could help train him, and help him understand our… shared condition. We are the only two known hybrids, after all.”

“Vladdie, what a brilliant idea! I would love for you to help Danny! Just imagine,” Jack wipes away an imaginary tear, “my best friend and my son bonding over ghost hunting.”

“Yes, it sounds like a very good idea, as long as Danny agrees. He should be in his room, I’ll ask for him to come join us.”

She stands up and leaves, and Vlad curses to himself. He had picked a weekday in the hopes that Daniel wouldn’t be home, but the boy apparently hadn’t gone back to school yet, likely because he had only recently reappeared. Oh butter biscuits, he might remember Vlad’s previous offer and refuse again.

Maddie soon returns, Daniel trailing behind her.

“Danny-boy, Vlad here offered to help you train because he’s a half-ghost too! Isn’t that exciting!” Jack booms, and Vlad winces away from the sudden shout. He sees Daniel quirk a smile, but the boy quickly wipes it away in favor of frowning at him.

“Yeah, that’s… incredible. I dunno dad, I don’t really, y’know, know him.” He shrugs listlessly, and Vlad resists the urge to roll his eyes. Stubborn teenager.

“Well Danny, you could get to know each other during training, of course. Maybe we can try it out a few times, and if it doesn’t work, we can always take back over?” Maddie lays her hands on Daniel’s shoulders, clearly attempting to convince him. He wasn’t easily swayed, however.

“Maybe… Can we do the training here, in the lab?”

“I guess, but my dear boy, I have specialized rooms that we could use to train. Wouldn’t it be better to use those?”

The boy continues to frown at him. “We could, but if we train here mom and dad can watch as well. And Jazz, and Sam and Tucker too.”

“Well, it would be pretty enlightening to watch you two train, and I can see why you might want your friends to come visit during training as well. We’ve got space to train in the lab as well, and we can adapt it to your needs as well.”

“Yes, I suppose that would be possible. So how about weekly training here in the lab, every Saturday, starting this weekend?”

Daniel nods, but shoots him one last suspicious glance. “Yeah, that sounds good. Was that all?”

“Yes, thank you Danny. Let me know if you’re going out, okay sweetie?”

Daniel nods at his mother before speeding back up the stairs. Vlad watches him go, smiling to himself. Soon enough the boy would be his. But he has to be patient. It would be no easy task to win the boy over during their training sessions.

But Vlad Masters always got what he wanted, and what he wanted was his beloved family.

The training sessions go well, all things considered. Daniel might lack proper training, but he has acquired a lot of skills during his time in the Ghost Zone, and he is a good student. He listens well, follows instructions to a t, and is adaptable to no end. The only thing that holds him back is his impatience, but coaching from his friends and family help him stay motivated.

Vlad hadn’t been sure about the inclusion of Daniel’s loved ones when they first started training, but they proved to be more helpful than distracting. While he did his best to compliment Daniel’s progress, the support from his family and friends was much more powerful.

He often found himself watching Daniel during their breaks. The interactions between the boy and his family made him alternate between sick and pleased, sharp pangs of jealousy whenever Jack and the boy got along well but enjoying seeing his future wife and her son together. But it was Daniel’s friendship with the two teens that really struck a cord with Vlad.

He saw Daniel and Samantha and Tucker, saw them play and joke and screw around with each other, and he was reminded of his college days. He looked, and he saw Jack, Maddie, and himself. And he found that he missed that friendship.

He realized, suddenly, that he desired more than just a wife and kids. He wanted to be loved, not just as a husband and a father, but as a friend.

And as he continued to watch Daniel and his family, he realized that they were all irreversibly connected. Maddie and Daniel cared far too deeply about Jack, and Jasmine as well, to separate any of them. Doing so would change who they were, permanently.

And Vlad found that he didn’t want them to change. He didn’t want to break up this family.

And he was horrified when he realized what he had almost done. In his desperation, he had almost screwed up his only chance at happiness with Maddie, just because he wasn’t happy with what he had. He threw away his friendship with her just because he wanted more, because he wanted something he would never even get.

Because he could see, now, that Maddie was happy with Jack. Far happier than she would ever be with him.

But they hadn’t abandoned him, despite the fact that he carried some childish grudge against them for two decades. Jack still cheered him on like nothing had ever happened, and Maddie started to open back up as well.

Vlad vowed to himself that he wouldn’t let this chance pass him by. He was given a second chance, and by God was he going to take it.

He might not become Maddie’s beloved husband, but he could be her dear friend. Hers, and Jack’s, of course. He would rekindle their lost friendship, even if it was the last thing he would ever do.

And luckily for him, his old friends were more than happy to accept him back in their lives, and into their family.

“Hey, uncle Vlad?” Danny asks as he floats over to where Vlad was seated in a plush chair. They were in Vlad’s office in his new mansion in Amity Park, where Vlad had been working on, ugh, paperwork.

“Yes, little badger?” Vlad looks up from the papers spread over his desk to smile at the boy, seeing his grimace at the nickname.

“I was thinking about the first time we met. Back then you asked me to join you so we could train together. I refused, because you wanted me to renounce my dad, but then days later you came by and asked my parents instead.”

“Yes, I remember that. I was quite impressed by your swift take-down of the Box Ghost.”

“Right, right. But I don’t understand why you asked me to abandon my dad.” The boy frowns at him, a puzzled expression on his face.

“Well, dear Daniel, at the time that was what I most desired. My own little family, with Maddie as my wife, and you as my son.”

Danny quirks his eyebrow. “At the time? So not anymore, then?”

“No, not anymore. I’ve gotten what I always wanted, even if not the way I had envisioned it. A loving family to call my own.”

Danny floats over, wrapping a cold arm around his shoulders, and with a smile so bright that Vlad knew he had made the right choice. “Aww, I love you too V-man!”

Yes, Vlad thinks to himself, his plans had worked out quite fine. He had sown the seeds and finally harvested the results, and even if they weren’t quite what he had planned, the results were far beyond what he could have hoped for.

[comfreycompost]

The Enigma of Wilderland

20 minutes south of Whitianga lies an anarchist community called Wilderland. Pine trees stud the gravel road, which is not council maintained and winds for two kilometres past several other farms. Pine tree roots have a symbiotic relationship with fly agaric mushrooms (Amanita muscaria), and as I walk up the road one winter night shortly after lockdown it is almost as if the toadstools are guiding the way. As strange as it sounds, it feels as though I am following some sort of Hansel and Gretel crumbs into fairyland.

[Caption: Amanita muscaria at Wilderland]

Every so often a handpainted sign reads “WiLDERLAND,” with an arrow pointing the way. A lot of people get lost finding it for the first time, and I am no exception. I am walking the road because I had taken a wrong turn and got my 1992 Toyota Starlet hatchback stuck in a farmer’s muddy field during a rainstorm. 

[Caption: The long and winding road]

Wilderland is an example of a self-sufficient community, of which there are many in Aotearoa. The difference is, while most such communities are closed, anyone can go to Wilderland. All you have to do is apply on their website and commit to a full month of work (unpaid, of course). New intakes arrive every second Sunday. With the exception of a handful of long-term residents, the 20-30 people living at Wilderland at any given time are always changing. If you are serious about learning how to be self-sufficient, or just curious to see if it is really possible, you can go to Wilderland and see how it’s done.

In 1956, the land on the property that became Wilderland was abandoned by its owner. A long-term resident called Ken, who is in his 60s, tells me that the reason was that the land was too difficult to farm. The original farmhouse still stands on the property, although it has been condemned by the council. Ken tells me that a family of six used to live there before it was abandoned 65 years ago. Today, the house is thoroughly overgrown with jasmine and stands in the middle of a forest. One needs a machete to cut through the jasmine into the house, and inside there are only two items: a 30-year-old newspaper and a picture book, Grandma McGarvey Goes to the Zoo.

[Caption: The original farmhouse]

In October, 1964, Dan and Edith Hansen purchased the disused block of land (roughly 170 acres) on the Whitianga Estuary and founded Wilderland. At the time, it was one of Aotearoa’s only organic farms. Before he died, Dan Hansen donated the land to the Wilderland Trust, meaning no actual person owns the land. The Wilderland Trust is a registered charity in Aotearoa and the farm holds the Organic Certification. There is a lot of accountability that goes along with all of that which is taken quite seriously. For example, drugs and alcohol are not allowed.

The farm is collectively managed by trustees and the long-term residents, each of whom have voting rights. Anarchism as a philosophy is generally misunderstood: far from lawlessness, it is actually a highly organised system where power is decentralised and given to the community to make their own decisions on anything that affects them directly. At Wilderland, there are multiple meetings every week, discussions ranging from who should be allowed to stay, how money should be spent, what produce (if any) should be sold, what projects should be prioritised, whether the cat should have a bell on his collar to prevent native bird casualties, and so on. Everything is voted on. There is always work to do and everyone has their own pet projects. Conflict is natural, but it is reduced compared to a typical eco-village, because no one actually has their own financial resources tied up in the community.

In January, 2017, a fire destroyed about 25 acres of forest and four houses that were on the property. “We've managed to save more homes than we lost, but I feel very sorry for everyone from that community... there's not much left,” a rural firefighter was quoted as saying at the time. In the aftermath, 4000 new trees were planted to begin the recovery process but many long-term residents left. Wilderland has faced many challenges in its long history, and it is something of a miracle that it still exists when most of the other 1960s communes failed. One can read about the history of Wilderland in detail in one of the many postgraduate theses that have been written about it, or on their website, so I will focus mainly on my experience. The fire is worth mentioning, though.

On my first day, I am inducted with the rest of the newbies. The visitor host, Khan (named after Genghis), shows us around. We are shown the various gardens, the orchards, the buildings, the compost toilets. The tour ends with us planting some spring onions outside the main hall. The community hall is a rustic, rectangular structure containing a kitchen (vegetarian only), extensive library, musical instruments, personal lockers, couches, tables, and art supplies. Food is cooked using a wood burner oven, which also heats the hot water for the shower. The fire is lit at 7 am and usually burns until past 9 pm. Herbs are hung upside down next to the fire to dry, destined to be brewed in tea or sold at the roadside stall on State Highway 25.

[Caption: Herbs drying in the community hall]

My accomodation is a metal shed which contains a bunk bed (long-term residents live in the houses, visitors sleep in cabins or tents or vehicles). I share the shed with a 22-year-old Australian man named Bryce. Over the month we live together, we become good friends. The shed is crawling with cockroaches and it becomes part of our nightly ritual to evict as many of them as possible using a jar. As soon as they are thrown outside they start coming back in through cracks in the walls. Cockroaches like to crawl on you during the night, and I regularly wake up in the night and turn on my torch to find myself surrounded. At times like these I simply read until the sun comes up and I can get out of bed. By week four, the sleep deprivation is really getting to me.

[Caption: A compost toilet and a cabin for sleeping (left to right)]

Every weekday morning at 8 am we meet in the community hall for porridge and the morning meeting. The main purpose of the morning meeting is to decide who will do what jobs that day. The work is varied and interesting, involving much more than just gardening: there is building and maintenance work, roads to be fixed, community lunch to be cooked (using food foraged from the gardens), a roadside stall to be manned, administration to be done, firewood to be chopped. Planting and harvesting is planned based on the phases of the moon and the solstices and such. At 1.30 pm every day, a massive bell outside the hall is rung by whoever made lunch that day and everyone finishes their work and eats together.

My first experience of the “lunch circle” is a bit of a culture shock. Everyone forms a circle and holds hands. Thankfulness is expressed. “Thank you for helping me today in the Dolphin Beds,” says one hippie to his helper that day. “Thanks for brushing your teeth,” says another to his girlfriend who stands slightly outside of the circle, brushing her teeth. Then announcements are made, and finally, when everyone simultaneously senses the moment is right, hands are lifted with a universal cry of “WOOOOO!” Then lunch is served. After what is sometimes up to five minutes of someone sweating into my hands, I always have to scurry off to wash my hands before lunch, so I am always last in line.

[Caption: The kitchen and the table where food is served]

The food is always incredibly good. Eating a diet of mainly fresh and seasonal produce is highly beneficial for physical health, and it gets me thinking about food — its effects on the mind, body, and spirit. Food is one of the most important needs of the human animal, after water but before shelter and fire. After a few weeks of eating food grown on the land I am living on, I begin to understand something J.R.R. Tolkein once allegedly said, according to C.S. Lewis:

❝ Tolkien once remarked to me that the feeling about home must have been quite different in the days when the family had fed on the produce of the same few miles of country for six generations, and that perhaps this was why they saw nymphs in the fountains and dryads in the wood — they were not mistaken for there was in a sense a real, not metaphorical connection between them and the countryside. What had been earth and air and later corn, and later still bread, really was in them. We of course who live on a standardised international diet — you may have had Canadian flour, English meat, Scotch oatmeal, African oranges, and Australian wine today — are really artificial beings and have no connection, save in sentiment, with any place on earth. We are synthetic men, uprooted. The strength of the hills is not ours. ❞

Time passes differently at Wilderland. It takes me about two weeks to adjust to the rhythm and the silence. In the afternoons after work I bathe in the rock pools or kayak in the estuary or try to learn a dusty accordian in the hall or do any number of other wholesome activities. Poetry club happens on Wednesdays. Every second Thursday is pizza night (cooked in the outdoor woodfire pizza oven). Every Friday night is Meat Club — a group of meat enthusiasts pitch in for some sausages and steaks from the Whitianga butcher and cook it outside on a fire far away from the hall, paired with lots of cheap red wine (another contraband). On the weekends everyone does their own thing — I spend mine exploring.

It is worth mentioning the stars. Being treated to blazing constellations every night with no sound but the morepork feels like a massive privilege. But it shouldn’t be. For thousands of years, humans looked to the stars to find meaning and our general lack of ability to do that nowadays is one reason why we are so spiritually impoverished. Bright stars are an innate human need and light pollution has taken that away from us.

As a layperson, my understanding of permaculture increases slowly. One day, I am working with Khan and he says something that connects a lot of dots for me. “Permaculture gardens are like tiny forests. There are tall things and short things and things that exist mainly underground. There is a throbbing animal and insect life and there is mycelium, a brain that connects everything like the internet. There is biodiversity. There are bees. And everything works together in the same way as a forest.”

[Caption: The Dolphin Beds — apparently a dolphin was buried here once]

[Caption: Hina Hina, where a famous battle took place in the 1860s]

On my first Friday morning, I have another culture shock. One of the strange traditions in this place is to have a “Dialogue” every Friday morning from 9 am until 10 am before work. In theory the Dialogue is an open platform where anything can be discussed, in reality though the main topics that get discussed at the Dialogue are “What is the Dialogue?” and “Why don’t we replace the Dialogue with x?” No one really knows what it is for. Newbies are thrown in the deep end and long-term residents regard it as sacred and any attempt to abolish or replace it as subterfuge. Emotions run high. People storming out is common, crying is common, and cigarettes are smoked afterwards.

[Footnote: Like any isolated community, Wilderland has its own unique politics. I adopted the renegade view of “Dialogue Abolitionist.” I suggested that a much healthier way of purging the tension of the group would be to have a fight club, but this was not well-received.]

It is my last day. Apparently I can’t just leave. Everyone gives me a hug; I am the recipient of several group hugs. A jar of local honey is pressed into my hands, entreaties are made for me to return. I realise that like the plants I helped to cultivate, I have roots here now.

[Caption: Saying goodbye]

What is Wilderland? Is it a hippie commune? An eco-village? A cult? It is none of those things, really. I see it as more of an educational community. It models self-sufficiency, although it is partially reliant on the outside world. It models anarchism on a micro level. It teaches the patience of permaculture to a world drowning in Roundup. Most of it all, it clearly demonstrates what is possible. It is no secret that dairy farms are causing Aotearoa excessive droughts. Importing and exporting and transporting food exacerbates the climate crisis and makes us reliant on the global economy (which as Covid has shown, is frighteningly fragile). Wilderland proves that things could be better. For 56 years, Wilderland has represented a choice — the possibility of a better world where nature is worshipped and humans have freedom.

[Caption: Scarecrows]

[zenpasta]

The Silence of Sipatu

          Helkee Posala doesn’t wander too far off in the forest, as she plans to soon return to Sipatu, her glass house full of greenery. She knows Sipatu to be the safest dwelling she could find, but now she can’t help but to stroll a little deeper into the woods, some curious chill drawing her in. She marvels at the height of the aromatic evergreens, the brightness of the dandelions, and the inviting darkness of the tree-shaded path before her. The farther she roams, the denser the foliage becomes, and the sunrays beaming through the treetops grow sparse.

          She feels the presence of Sipatu tugging her back toward Herself, as though two long threads are tied to her sixth ribs on either side, drawing her all the way back to Sipatu. Maybe the tugging is by the Morning Glory Vine, one of her beloved plants, who simply wishes Posala to stay safe within the safety of Sipatu.

          Even stronger than that pull, though, are the chains of Notaku.

          Notaku is the greenhouse who opposes Sipatu. Despite the pain that Notaku always inflicts upon Posala when she finds herself there, she is bound to him. She feels this bondage now, as though the manipulative Kudzu Vine is yanking ice-cold manacles that bite into her ankles and drag her toward Notaku. With every step the strain against her feet lessens, while the threads in her ribs wind tighter around and around each bone, weaving guilt into her chest.

          Once she arrives at the door of Notaku, the resistance around her ankles lessens, but still cuts. She takes in the view before her in misery and dread. The structure of the arboretum is identical to Sipatu’s, but that is where the similarities end. Sipatu resides in a clearing where sun shines through Her plants, Her windows are clean and shining, and the Huata, the living flowers inside, are pleasant-natured and aglow. On the contrary, Notaku is veiled in darkness and woe, his windows shrouded in ice and dirt thrown around inside by his mutinous plants, the Lokni. His climate is perpetually cold and damp; his windows are fogged up with condensation so thick that she can’t see inside.

          As Posala crosses the threshold, the guilt in her chest restricts her breathing, but she ignores it. The interior is just as chaotic as she knew it would be. Dirt is strewn across the floor, the Briars have doubled in size, knocking over pots of flailing Lokni and twisting around the stinking fruit-filled saplings. The vicious weeds reach up between the moist stones and deliberately bite at her feet with her every step, snarling as they do so. The Lokni surrounding her cackle in delight as they watch.

           Posala shrinks under gloom and fatigue, her energy sapped by the despondency of the atmosphere. Letting out a shaky sigh, she begins to clean up the turmoil around her, in spite of her freezing limbs and lack of strength. She sweeps out the dirt, throws the broken pottery shards out into the ivy outside, and rips out each and every snapping weed from the floor until her hands are raw and bleeding. She reorganizes the plants back, making sure each shrub is located by the correct watering tree necessary for it to vegetate.

           Hours later when her slender muscles have almost no life left to give, she stops in the doorway on the way out, quickly glancing around to ensure her completion before fleeing into the night. Notaku’s manacles do not reappear as she trudges home, as she has fulfilled her duty and will be left alone. For now.

           When she is finally able to return to Sipatu, Posala wilts under shame as she enters, shrinking herself as small as possible.

           “I’m sorry, Sipatu,” she whispers, looking down with her chin on her chest, hands in fists clenching her black hair. “I had no control. Why didn’t you save me from him?” As her tears roll down her cheeks, she is anointed with Sipatu’s warm presence blooming in her chest and spreading over her body, deep into her bones and her soul. She knows, in this moment, that she is not at fault for her burden.  

▪ ▪ ▪

           Weeks of peaceful normality pass, and Helkee Posala thrives and flourishes throughout the days alongside the Huata, her floral and herbal companions. She dances with her Vines and sings in harmony with the Hyacinths to Sipatu. She tends to the ripe fruit, the Blueberries, Peaches, and Oranges, among others. She is sure to cultivate the rhythmic cycle of the watering trees throughout the aisles of verdure. The plants of each family are grouped together, hundreds of different types lining the three long tables that stretch the length of the conservatory. The Roses thrive most when watered by the Apple Saplings, while the Daffodils are at their best with the Willows. She stands on the tables, adjusting the Morning Glory Vine that covers the glass ceiling and walls for the sun to fall on or be obscured from each plant according to their needs. Before, during, and after her gardening, she spends unmeasured time in reverence in the presence of Sipatu.

           One morning Posala wakes in her bed at the end of the greenhouse. Sunshine lands on her russet skin, adding a richness to the already-warm temperature of her home. She feels the faint prickling of something cold on the backs of her ankles. Though she tries to ignore the need to go outside, she already knows it will happen. Today. Though she longs to stay with Sipatu, she does not understand her own actions, for she does not do what she wants, but she does the very thing that she hates.

           Posala hears her fear knocking on the door. Has the Kudzu come this far? She tries to ignore it, not daring to speak to Sipatu of it. Knock, knock, knock. It is relentless, filling Posala with fatigue and hopelessness. After trying her best to care for the Huata without thought or feeling, she reluctantly heads toward the door without saying a word to Sipatu. She feels Sipatu’s sadness as a chill through her bones, and shivers as she slips out the door.

           She nearly collapses under the sudden weight of Notaku’s demand on her shoulders. She desires nothing more than to turn back, but it is too late. The shackles are firmly clamped around her ankles, promising relief and belonging if she only follow that cold, dark path one more time. She knows by the butterfly wings fluttering in her sternum that she is being deceived, but she swats the thought away and continues toward her grave.

           Notaku appears to be in a worse state than usual now. Several panes of his windows are cracked and frozen fog is slowly seeping through the glass. Unable to escape, she enters the greenhouse and all of her senses are immediately assaulted. The stench of rotten fruit is permeating, so strong that it makes her light-headed. The Briars now reach the ceiling, almost doubling her height. Broken pot shards are strewn everywhere, and the weeds have grown back taller, stronger, and angrier. They bite into her legs and throw dirt in her face, writhing around like spastic serpents.

           She senses Notaku’s vulgar delight as a loud throbbing in her temple, and she scowls, disgusted with herself for returning once again. “Will my suffering never end? Why do you bring me here?” she cries, shouting up into the ceiling, where she sees Kudzu menacingly twisting toward her. As she screams, one of Kudzu’s tendrils plunges into her throat, gagging her as it curls around her body, squeezing tighter and tighter the more she squirms. The watering trees are pouring down hail, pelting her body with a flood of bruising sting after sting. Dirt-filled tears stream down her face, unable to make a sound. The surrounding Lokni make an uproar, shrieking in their pleasure at this sight.

           The attack goes on for hours, days maybe, Posala doesn’t know. Kudzu gradually loosens its grip, finally letting her go just before she is fully dead, and rests back on the ceiling where it resides. She crawls out the door as quickly as she can. Her bare legs are welted and gaping open in some places where streams of blood trickle down, staining her skirt as she drags herself home. Though the bites sting, they do not compare to the invisible force cutting into her ankles, commanding her to reverse in her tracks. She doesn’t look back, fearing the Vine may be snaking up behind her.

           Helkee Posala enters the shelter of Sipatu. Instead of the sanctuary she once took refuge in, she is now greeted with musky, stale air and the sight of shriveled plants. Her Huata are dead.

           Tears welling up in her eyes, she slowly walks the lengths of the aisles of her once-blooming garden. The Tulips. Foxglove. Jasmine. The overhead Vines once full of Morning Glories, all shriveled and colorless. She raises her hand to her mouth, unsuccessfully covering her sobs. Undue guilt pours down her face, drawing her to her knees on the icy stones beneath her.

“Sipatu, Sipatu, why have you forsaken me?” Posala weeps.

           Sipatu is silent.

▪ ▪ ▪

           Helkee Posala wakes in her arid, empty house. Her skin is raw, bruised, and crusted with blood and dirt; last night there wasn’t a single watering tree to clean off with, and now in the morning nothing is different, despite the yearnings of her dry throat. Through the lifeless grey vines, she sees that outside the sky is downcast and raining. She is alone, for the first time she can remember. All she has left is Notaku, and her ankles are so sore by this point that she can’t think of a reason not to go. Seeing no other options, and with some small distorted form of hope, she trudges back to her perpetrator.

           The windows are clear of all moisture this time. Inside, all is still. The Lokni everywhere are wilting, even the weeds barely acknowledge her. Maybe they just misplaced their watering trees again. She is frantic, looking through them for what could be wrong. But everything is in its correct place, and the watering trees are dry. Convinced there is something she must do, she tries moving the trees around, despite knowing that it won’t help.

           By her ankle she feels heat, not cold. One of the weeds is aflame. Good riddance. She is unbothered. Until the flame spreads to the next weed and the next, until it reaches the Briars and the plants up on the tables. Posala shrieks, terrified. She is quickly surrounded by walls of fire all around her. Just as she resolves to let it engulf her, to just be done with everything, with Notaku, the Lokni, the Huata, and even with Sipatu Herself, she stops. She doesn’t know why. She feels that she is tempted beyond what she can bear. But she thinks that maybe with the temptation there is also a way of escape, that she may be able to endure it. She stands still, waiting for the inferno to overcome her.

           But the fire finally dies away, and the hair on her head is not singed, and her clothes are not harmed. There is nothing left; not a single Lokni, table, or pot shard. Every surface is covered in ash, adding yet another layer of grime to her skin. Posala’s frigid loneliness deepens; she feels it as little holes nailed through the center of her palms. But rising above the sadness she carries is a small glow of belief, just the size of a Marigold seed, that there may be one day again when she can taste and see that Sipatu is good.

           When Posala arrives at the shell of Sipatu, there is a narrow river flowing through the forest, stretching through the middle of the clearing and passing the front of the greenhouse. She slakes her thirst and rinses her skin until it is clear again.

           She goes home. Inside is still and fruitless. She wanders the length of the tables, sweeping up the dead petals and leaves and watches them drift away down the stream. When she is almost finished, she moves one last pot aside to clean under it, and finds a Huata, alive, thriving, and new. It is a Hyssop. She realizes she no longer carries shackles on her ankles.

           Though she lives in heartache, Helkee Posala slowly begins to understand the silence of Sipatu. Despite the lull in their communion, she thinks maybe it was Her who broke her bondage to Notaku, and realizes that even in the most dismal of places, Sipatu is there, protecting her.

           Little by little, day by day, she unearths the truth that her bond to Sipatu is not dependent on what Posala feels – but on what she knows. Her belief in Sipatu’s goodness is not sensed anywhere in her body nor in the air around her, but now she knows that a never-ending sensation isn’t what she needs to connect her to Sipatu. It is the knowledge of who Sipatu is and how much She loves her that Posala clings to in the midst of confusion.

           So even though she feels abandoned, she knows that she is not. Some days there is proof, a Pear here, a Hydrangea there, and some nights she goes hungry. But she gradually learns that sometimes she has to speak her beliefs over her feelings, like a Japanese Maple waters over Strawberries.

           She is sorrowful, yet attempts to rejoice always. She continues to live in her quiet sanctuary, tending to her slowly-sprouting Huata, without stain or reproach. She petitions to Sipatu for their breath to be restored, and waits with faith for the day when comes the blessed hope, the appearing of the glory of Sipatu.

[silverwindsblog]

The Fallen Kingdom

Summary: “Aknamkanon's death shocked Atem and the kingdom, leaving little time for Atem to grief. He must take the throne and the responsibilities with it.Will he able to handle them and his grief? Or will grief and despair lead to his downfall? Oneshot.”

Rated T for mid violence and cynical themes.

“Atem. It’s time to go. I know that your father’s death have hit you hard, but as future king, you must keep your head high for the sake of people. Remember that you represent the virtues that people strive for. Even in hardships, it is important to be resilient.

“Yes Siamun.”

Atem looked at his father’s tomb. The chamber was cold, but Atem hardly noticed the goosebumps in his skin.

It’s too soon. Far too soon for his father to leave the world. Death simply does not stop after the burial of an important figure.The mourning of the dead lingered in Egypt, the sorrow consumed people’s hearts, leaving the kingdom paralyzed.

Whispers roamed among the streets. What will become of Egypt? Will his son be ready? Will his son will be strong as his father?

Remember son, your duty and more importantly, you are above the people.  You are blessed by the powers of Ra. Your actions are example to the people you will govern.

“My prince?”

A familiar strong voice boomed within the chamber. Atem didn’t noticed the man with his trademark staff and magician robe.

“My apologies for startling you pharaoh, I have not grow accustomed to your new title. I noticed your long face. Do you need a lending ear?”

“Thank you Mahaad, but I do not wish to burden my troubles to you.”

“As your friend and guardian, it is my obligation to help ease your mind. Not just for the sake of the kingdom, but for your well being. Even a king has his own limits. He cannot hold all of his burden by himself or else his burdens will overwhelm him.”

“Thank you for your concern, Mahaad.” His heart grew lighter at Mahaad’s concern. “Yes, I would love nothing more than to chat. Unfortunately, I must attend these meetings. How about we meet at our usual spot? By the garden?”

Maahad nodded. “I shall see you then. Do your best to not yawn at Seto’s cropping reports.”  

Atem couldn’t help but gave an impish grin at Mahaad. “Well it’s not my fault that Seto talks with that dull voice of his. No guarantee.”

He stood and “But I can guarantee this Mahaad, I always make time with you and Mana no matter how busy I am.”

---

The scent of lychnis and jasmine flowers soothed his mind. For a moment, the world felt still. The smell of the fresh earth brought the memories of tiny vases, dirty feet, and magic tricks.

Moments when once upon a time, his worries were consist of hide and go seek with the guards, surviving Seto’s dull lectures, and keeping a straight face as Mana apologized for her latest magic mishaps. “Well, at least the purple hair suits you. Beside, you need more color in your wardrobe. Atem couldn’t help but giggled with Mana as Mahaad’s stern face broke into laughter.

The three of them stuck together like glue. Days were filled with juicy mango, sunsets on their secret spot, and shirking reports. Before their lives are separated by their occupation, they explored the palace as though it’s their playground. When they grew tired, Mana would always climbed up the tree to get the oranges.

The orange tree was planted when Atem learned to walked. He vividly remembered his father’s worried face as Atem eagerly climbed to the tree for the first time. Atem’s young face soften his father’s expression as he happily gave one of the orange to his father. The tree marked the day when he met Mana and Mahaad for the first time.

Ever since, they were inseparable. They bonded over their thirst for adventure, before the complex rules that defines their identities. Time was irrelevant to finding the rarest treasure, combat against their imaginary foes, and discovering new exotic items at the market. The orange tree no longer lies in the garden, as Mahaad explained to Mana why she can’t glomp him in public. Even the dirt that doesn’t shifts sprouted new plants as the old plants dropped its seeds before it withered away, vanished without a trace.

Just like plants, people will eventually died and will disappeared into the earth. Unlike plants, memories never fade away. His people remembered his father for his kind words, tactics, his strong voice, and his dedication to defeat evil. What kind of legacy will I leave? Will my legacy mirrored my father’s? Will it be a legacy that I can make my father proud?

“My pharaoh.”

Atem looked up and find Mahaad staring at him.

“My apologies to startle you with your thoughts.”

Atem gave a small smile to Mahaad. “No need for the formality. It’s just the two of us.” Mahaad quietly sat at the bench next to Atem.

They shared a moment of silence. He appreciated Mahaad for his presence. Perhaps it’s Mahaad’s magic or their extended time together, Mahaad have an incisive sense when Atem wanted to be alone with his thoughts and when Atem wanted to confide his troubling thoughts. Mana has her own way to ease Atem’s worries with a wink and a smile as she cast her often disastrous spells. Few people, let alone some of her closest friends knew that Mana has an attentive side. Her keen sense however, cannot compare with Mahaad’s intuition and his vast knowledge of magic.

“Atem. Are you okay? I know it’s difficult for you to deal with his death because you have admire him for his courage and selflessness. I have to admit, I admired him for these qualities.”

“Mahaad, I have to admit, with the amount of work to prepare for coronation, I have little time to dwell on my feelings. When the advisors depend on you, you have to set aside your worries for the sake of the kingdom.” Atem looked wistfully at the stars.

Mahaad could not see his face. He spoke quietly to him.

“Atem, I appreciate you for everything you done for the kingdom.”

“As well I appreciate for you, to be by my side.”

“Atem, you are always working hard which is one of the qualities I admired about you. But I’m worried that you focused on the state of the kingdom and neglected your own health. I see shadows in your eyes.”

“There’s little time to grief when there’s so much to do.”

“Your feelings are important. Even if you have to fulfil your duties as the future king, remember to not push yourself too hard.”

Mahaad continued to coaxed Atem. “I know you for so long and I know when you use the voice to mask your feelings. Please tell me on what’s on your mind.”

Atem finally turned to face him. Mahaad could see his eyes were slightly moist.

“It’s been difficult for me to get through his death. My father, he was one of my anchors in my life. Not only did he guided me through court life, he nurtured me and I… miss him. Never did I felt alone in my life with all the responsibilities thrust before me.”

“Atem.” He assured Atem with a small smile. “Remembered that you’re not alone. You have me, Mana, and the court to help you and share the burdens. We will be by your side.”

“Thank you Mahaad. I can always count on you to ease my mind.” Atem smiled warmly back at him. “You’re a valuable comrade in battle and court. You’re always at my side and that is something I can say without any doubt.”

Mahaad took a solemn look at Atem. He knew the very words he uttered. Those words he etched in his mind and the promise that bind them together. He remembered the oath he did when Atem’s father announced that he will be Atem’s guardian. No doubt that Atem remembered that important day as well.

He kneeled down in front of Atem.

“I swore to protect you with my life, so long as I live. I will remain by your side as my duty to serve the future king.”

These words never fail to bring comfort for Atem.

“No matter what, you will be always my king and friend.”

No words needed as Atem hugged Mahaad.

In the world where uncertainty threatens with life, death and calamity, his only solace is Mahaad’s words, along with his strong arms brought him peace. He knew that there is one thing that will never change.

He will never have to worry about fighting alone again.

---

One night, alone in his private garden, Atem felt his mind lulled to the moon. The moon never looks brighter as the crickets chirped with the wind.

A shadow creeped by the rock. Atem was taken back and stood, preparing to draw out his sword.

“Who are you?” The woman before him wore a long, silky, white dress. Her green eyes were the prominent focus. They were deep as the Nile river. No doubt that her eyes held wisdom. Her dress while it blends in with the nobles, her luminous white skin made her stand out.

“My pharaoh, I am Kamilah. Caretaker of your late father. I had been close to your father. Because of my importance and power, few people knew me. I have to kept in secret so enemies don’t use me.” Her voice, powerful and full of pride. It reminded Atem of Isis the way she enchanted the court with the guidance of her vision.

“I am here to guide you, fulfilling your father’s request. His dying words to me was to watch his son.”

Atem shifted his eyes in his surrounding, checking to see if there’s false serenity. “I see. If you claim to be my father’s caretaker, then why did my father and the advisors never mention your name to me?”

“Your father ordered me to never appear in the public’s eyes, nor in the advisor’s eyes. I was served to follow orders after your father’s death. My role is to guide you in order to continue Egypt's prosperity. Your father and I decided that I work in the shadows, to avoid potential enemies finding me and using me for destroying Egypt. My knowledge is vast beyond the seas, beyond the skies. Your father trusted me for my wisdom and I have guided him for Egypt to thrive.”

Atem’s eyes narrowed. “How do I know that you are not lying to me?” It’s unusual for his father to not mention about her to him and his advisors if she provided a vital role for Egypt’s success. What if she’s a spy?

She reached for her pocket and pulled out a scroll. “These are the records that your father wrote for our private meetings. I think you will recognize your father’s plan on the millennium items.”

Atem’s eyes widen open as he read the scroll.

Be discreet about the spells. Continue to seek for the the method to defeat Zorc. Assure the advisors that the spells will strengthen the people. Let Kamilah keep Atem safe until he is ready to shoulder the responsibilities by himself.

No doubt that this was his father’s words.

Father… I will make you proud.

“Kamilah?”

“Yes my pharaoh?”

Atem hesitated. What were his father’s dying words on Atem?

“Did my father talked about me before his death?”

“Yes.”

“What did my father thought of me?”

“Your father is very proud of you and have no doubt that you will be a great king.” Her eyes reflected in the moon with affirmation.

Atem’s eyes widen. Father… he was proud of me. His face filled with newfound determination. “I’ll make sure that I continue Egypt’s legacy for my father’s last wish. And for the people.”

Kamilah gave an encouraging smile. “I’ll make sure that I fulfill my role to serve you and Egypt.” She gave a respectful bow before Atem.

---

Mahaad met Kamilah once. She has a motherly and benevolent appearance that no doubt reminded him of the late king. Despite the introduction, Mahaad felt uneasy around her. It was not her manners for they were professional, it was rather something… off about her. As a magician, he is an expert on reading people’s aura. Her words, kind and supportive despite she spoke very little around him. Yet, he couldn’t depict her mind. Her face while soft and has warm eyes, Mahaad noticed her face remained guarded around him.

“Be on your way, magician.”

“As well as you.” Mahaad bowed respectfully as he watched her leave to Atem’s room.

Atem spent most of his time at the library. Rarely does Atem get sleep. His advisors became concerned on Atem for his nightly reading. Rumors spread about the mysterious woman. Perhaps it’s Atem’s mistress? Atem confirmed that the woman knew his father and was advised to protect her identity. No one heard, let alone able to spoke a word with the woman. Some attempted to follow the woman in the hallways. However, whenever they turned to a corner, she disappeared.

---

“I beg to differ. Mahaad is my valuable guardian. He have been with me since we were little. He is humble, kind, and dependent.”

“Are you doubting my trust on Mahaad?”

Kamilah couldn’t help but find it mildly surprising at Atem’s outburst.

“I did not mean to offend you my pharaoh. I wish to offer a suggestion to better serve you and the kingdom. I thought that it would be more suitable if the king does not fully trust someone close to him. It can lead to conflict of interest, should there is a traitor among the advisors.”

“I am thankful for your guided words Kamilah, but I believe that I have good judgement of who I can trust.”

“Very well then.” She stormed off into the hallway.

Atem was rather amused that this was the first time Kamilah have an annoyed expression.

---

“My father would show him mercy.” Atem struggled to steadied his voice from the shock of the murder of the villagers and Kamilah’s punishment. Frustration etched in his face as Kamilah cooly attempt to calm him.

“Your father wouldn’t let the thief’s crime go unpunished. I know your father’s mind. Instead of letting this thief go, he would have killed him. By killing him, perhaps you would have save from more bloodshed among the villagers.”

“My father taught me kindness and to show forgiveness for those who are wrong. He would never punish someone out of ruthlessness. In all the years I spent with my father and the training with him, he taught me to be strong.”

“Your father was a kind man indeed, one of the qualities I admired about him. However, even you held the power of Ra himself, you cannot deny the fact that humans are fallible. Do you think humans are capable to not perform wicked acts? They are not capable to see their errors. Look at this thief you forgive. In return of your weakness, he killed five villagers and injured one of the guards.”

She circled around Atem, her eyes twinkled with amusement.

“As the future king, kindness will get you so far. If you want to rule over Egypt with efficiency, you have to be strict,” her voice suddenly turned stern. “Wouldn’t you like a world without crime? Without anyone get hurt over someone taking another person’s life?  Don’t waste time and resource correcting people’s crime if they are not going to learn from them. If they can’t be useful for Egypt, then they should be put to death. Or at least become slaves for the rest of their lives.”

“Let me teach you lesson. I’ll show how to run Egypt with everyone obeying you. You shall learn that people will be loyal to you if you give them fear. People can betray you. If they know that they receive punishment if they betray you, then it’s the only way to know that people will remain loyal to you.”

“Hold out your arm.”

Atem yelped in pain as she cast a spell, leaving a red mark.

“You’re too naive. You must not let your guard down. There are enemies lurking that will take advantage the moment you show your weakness. Let’s try again.”

“Please follow me.”

Atem’s eyes furrow. A shot of purple magic went near his left leg. Atem quickly jump aside to the right as he pull out his sword. He glared at her as she gave a satisfied smirk.

“Much better.” Her voice has a hint of mischief. She gave him a satisfied smile, as though she finally got her child to understand his potential. “I’ll see you tomorrow night alone.”

---

“Atem, my king are you alright? You… learned about your father and the creation of the millennium items? It must have been devastating to learn about your father.”

Why…” Atem stunned and astounded he stared at Kamilah, absorbing all the information from the advisors. “Didn’t you tell me?”

“Because you weren’t ready for it.”

“My father… Why did hid this from me?” Stunned and fury seeped into his very core. Betrayal and doubt invaded to his mind. “How… Why…” Silence tighten the room, his breath grew more pronounced.

“Forgive me my king from withholding the information, your father and I thought that the truth is too much for you.”

“Don’t patronize me! I’m not some fragile person.”

“I did not wish to offend you, my king. There has to be the right time to open up the truth. One must reveal the truth at the right time, revealing too soon or too late can lead to misunderstanding and resentment.” she bow at Atem.

“He wanted to wait until you are older to understand the reasons he did. He felt remorse for his actions and he hoped that you’ll understand him why he had to do it.”

“He had to do what he did to protect the kingdom.” Her solemn words echoed in Atem’s mind as he pondered over his bed.”

You will understand why you must do what your father did when the time is right. If you want Egypt to thrive, you must be willing to spill some blood.

Few rulers led a clean life after all.

The words haunted Atem, weighting him down. As he is drifted to sleep, he shivered from the cold. Oddly enough, the recent heat wave cause the crops to die out. The last thing he heard before he fell into deep sleep was a cackling voice.

---

“How do I know that you are not lying to me? Kamilah, I have no doubt that you are knowledgeable about human relations, but I have to raise my doubts on your cynical attitude towards other people. Seth is one of my loyal advisors and I entrust him to assist carry my duties.” Atem insisted.

“With all due respect my pharaoh, I have been in many situations where my life was compromised due to my trust on the wrong people. I was kidnapped for my ability to see the past.”

“Let me show you my vision. Actions can speak louder than words. He may have swore his loyalty to you, but did he meant it?”

“So son, my brother was a rather a rotten king. The throne should belong to me, not him! Your cousin is also like his father, taking something that he doesn’t deserve and getting all the credit! We shall kill him. Tonight we will bring the pharaoh to check out the village that has the source of magic we seek to strengthen our powers. The village is filled with curses, strengthen by the villagers’ despair. There’s a cavern near the village and that’s where we kill him with the Blue Eyes White Dragon.

Atem and Kamilah couldn’t see Seto’s expression as the vision was obstructed. Seto pulled out the scroll and gave it to Aknadin. Seto shouted at Aknadin before the vision faded away.

Atem’s eyes widen in horror as he stood back at their room. He was shaken with anger and felt a wave of disbelief.

“Forgive me my pharaoh, for showing you this vision. I was reluctant to reveal this to you because your close relation with Seto. But my conscious tells me that I must show for your sake and the kingdom.”

Now, do you see why you can’t place your trust on anyone but me? Putting your full trust on one person can cost your life, as well the kingdom. We can’t risk losing your legacy because of betrayal. ”

“You’ll right. I’ll do whatever I take to make my father proud of me. He wouldn’t want the kingdom be run by corrupt advisors. All of the advisors must show dedication and loyalty to the kingdom.”

“If you wish to have loyalty among your advisors and people, you must teach them the consequences for betrayal and treason against Egypt. Execute both of them and show it to the public. You will guarantee loyalty and prevent potential rebels for carrying their plans. It is essential to teach people with kindness, but show them no mercy for those who commit treason.

Her smile widen. She gave a small, hearty laugh. “Come here, I have a perfect plan to do this. Give me the sharpest knife you got. I’ll deal with the traitors while you formulate the speech.”

The next morning, the advisors arrived at the throne room, confused at the pharaoh's sudden request. Everyone is concerned on the absence of priest Seto and Aknadin.

“My advisors, I have an announcement to make. I discovered that here are traitors among us. The proof is in this very scroll. One of our advisors was plotting an assassination. As a result, they are punished for treason. They are denied to the Afterlife.”

Atem pay no heed to the loud gasps and disapproving eyes before him.

“It is forbidden to speak the name of these traitors. Their names shall be erased in the texts.  Anyone who dare uttered their name before my presence shall be punished. Due to the recent events and threats in our kingdom, every advisor and worker are subjected to be questioned. That is all.”

Beneath his stoic eyes, Mahaad’s body shook with rage. What cause for his pharaoh’s sudden demeanor? What happen to his king? What will become of Egypt?

---

“Onward to the palace!”

“March!”

“Mahaad, you are the only one who can stop the king’s madness. We’ll counting on you. Give us the command when you’ll ready to ambush them.”

“My fellow warriors, we shall fight back against the tyrant who submit the people through fear and cruelty. I was once his guardian, served to protect him and the kingdom. When he started to suddenly distrust the people and slaughtered innocents through shadow magic, I cannot let this injustice slide by.

Atem stood in the throne, awaiting for his duel. He watched Mahaad marched to the empty room.

“Well look who decided to show up. The man who betrayed my trust. The man who refused to face the truth that the kingdom cannot thrive without wars and sacrifices. No matter how good your intentions are, a ruler cannot provide peace without spilling blood. The blood of the thieves, traitors, and prostitutes are spilled for the sake of maintaining the purity of the kingdom. A successful kingdom keeps the people safe by controlling the crime.”

"You have many people who are willing to throw their lives away, even betraying their friends to protect you. But I will never die for you." His voice seethed with resentment and anger.

For a blink of the moment, he swore that the king’s eyes flickered to his defiant words. Perhaps it’s the flames from the torches surrounding the throne that gave the illusion that the king’s eyes has life in it.

“Why is that? Aren’t you my loyal servant?”

No, that cold hearted voice didn’t fit him at all. The red, harsh eyes pierced to his soul. His body stiffed.

He gripped his staff, taken aback from his eyes as he steadied his voice. He stood still, yet he was shaken with fear.

Mahaad never thought that he would uttered those words to him.

“I’m not you loyal servant.”

“You are not the king I know. You are the son of Aknamkanon, blessed by Ra. I have been loyal to you even when you unjustly killed thieves, even your severe punishments cowered you enemies with dread. You once believe in justice and kindness, but now you are no longer the king I know. Greed has filled your heart as you strive for ruling the kingdom with an iron fist. That’s not what your father wants!”

His voice which was firm, echoed loudly in the throne. No longer can he hide his irate tone, his displeased and disgust against him.

“It pains me seeing you turn against your fellow people and I cannot stand by your side any longer while you continued to harm others with injustice and cruelty!”

“This is not the Atem I know!” His voice boomed across the throne room.

“I know that somewhere, deep in your heart that you feel regret for everything you did to your people.”

He bow as his voice cracked, “I’m sorry Atem.”

He raised his magic staff for the last time and aimed at his former king and best friend.

---

It never felt as lonely to be at top. Servants bid to every his command, yet their comfort meant nothing to him. Their serene smile and gestures are empty. Cold. Just like her eyes. Egypt has thrived. Crops are abundant, trading is booming, everyone pledged their loyalty to him.

Everything he did, he did it for the sake of his people. For the sake of his father.

The kingdom flourished that generations of his people would tell their children how their nation thrived. Never before Atem felt so much pride in his heart.

He does not need anyone. His power, his resources is all he needs. To rely on anyone is a sign of weakness. Why waste his time and energy? Humans make mistakes, the moment that they found opportunities that benefit them, they turn against him, and in the end, it hurts.

Those purple, defiant eyes suddenly flashed upon him. The flame in his eyes.

How. Just how that the spark in his eyes never extinguish?

He’s dead. He defies me and that’s his punishment.

It wouldn’t matter because he fulfilled his duty as a king.

Anyone who dare betray him, or attempt a treason against his country shall die.

Yet that throbbing pain in his heart wouldn’t go away.

The spark that is filled with fierce determination. Was it fuel with hatred?

Atem suddenly turned to his right, expecting for the familiar face to be by his side.

He cursed himself for the tears that drenched his face.

I’m… so sorry Mahaad.

Have I done well as a king? Would father be proud of me? Would my father will be happy for the legacy I left behind?

His muses left him empty in the throne. Walls smeared with blood and remnants of bones decorated this once lively room. Flowers, which were once brought the room with joy and life now were replaced with rodents who seek for the remaining flesh.  

The sun rises every morning and rays of light reaches him, yet the warmth of the sun failed to fill in the void.

The sunny skies mocked him everyday. His speech to punish any wrongdoers and the daily interrogations blurred in his mind. Every night, he returned for the servants who bowed in fear before heading back to his quarters.

He never knew how painful it is to be lonely.

Perhaps death would spare him from the agony of living in an empty shell.

Darkness fall as he drifted to sleep. A figure crackled as it consumed him, poisoning his words, twisted it into a spiral of nightmare. Smokes of purple and black entered into his dreams. He knew this type of magic. This was the same magic his father used to sacrificed the villagers. The same magic that killed his uncle and Seto.

He heard a familiar voice, the voice that guided him to his coronation. He saw her cold, sharp eyes, the eyes that were once warm and motherly, now froze him on the spot. Twitching in pain, his screams echoed in the hallways, yet no one heard.

She smiled wickedly as her enchantments of the servants vanished into thin air. She gave her farewell words to Atem as she mockingly bowed before him.   

Long live the king.

---

Sands shifted over the ruined kingdom. The wind grew harshly as a lone figure stood over the cliff. Her skin, light as a milky flower smirked, satisfied with her work.

Humans are easy to fool. Place doubt on their minds and they turn against each other.  When trust among other humans fail, civilization crumbles.

Isolation makes it easy to bring a powerful god into despair.

Like light, darkness does not last forever. Time is eternal. It does not matter how long the next civilization will arise, so long I can take my next victim to my despair.

Her ghostly words echoed in the endless sea of sand. Her body disintegrated into the darkness, leaving nothing but fragments of sorrow.

---

A/N: While there are parts I wish I expand such as Atem and Mahaad’s relationship, I enjoyed my attempt to write a cynical fanfic and exploring the dark side of human nature. Atem faced many emotions after his father’s death, which made me wonder what would happen if Atem became depressed and delusional from the death and the failures? That’s where Kamilah comes in. To me, I don’t see her as a character, but as a personification. I‘ll let the readers decide on what Kamilah represents.In the meantime, the next oneshot will be either revolutionshipping or sealshipping with a happier story.

[janeaustentextposts]

What is your favorite non-Austen period novel? Movie?

Okay I’m gonna do a rundown of all my favourites because making me pick one is just mean. (Also at one point in my notes on the following books and films I just wrote “Bagels” and I can’t for the life of me think what I might have meant or autocorrected that from. Maybe a shopping list started to take form. I don’t know.)

(If the film Miss Austen Regrets and book Longbourn by Jo Baker count as non-Austen then include them.)

Films:

Lagaan: Once Upon a Time in India - 2001 (Sports! High stakes! Sticking it to the Colonial Man!)

Mozart’s Sister - 2010 (Beautiful music! Gorgeous androgyny! GIRLS CAST TO PLAY THEIR ACTUAL AGE AND NOT SOME 20-SOMETHING PRETENDING TO BE FOURTEEN!)

Possession - 2002 (I’ve tried the novel, and A.S. Byatt has some beautiful prose but her structures sometimes do my head in, so never finished it. Ignore Paltrow as best you can and enjoy lush Victorian Gothic mystery and the ending is one of the most poignant things I’ve ever been pleasantly surprised with on film, and it leaves you wondering about many, many things…)

Jodhaa Akbar - 2008 (You could put Hrithik Roshan and Aishwarya Rai in the worst commercial ever made and I would watch it. Costumes, scenery, and, as a friend once put it “I’m not sure how they did it, but they just had a sex scene without any sex.” Bravo.)

Water - 2005 (Deepa Mehta is such a fantastic filmmaker and I loved this whole trilogy but Water is my favourite.)

Elizabeth - 1998 & Elizabeth: The Golden Age - 2007 (The costumes! The caMERA ANGLES!!! The compli-fucking-cated mess that is Elizabeth I.)[Okay Tumblr won’t let me embed any more trailers, but those ones are easy to find, they’re out there.]Vatel - 2000 (Any foodie who is also a fan of The Sun King and his era will dig this one. A great score, baddie Tim Roth.)Alternatively, in the same era: A Little Chaos - 2015. Storyline is a little weak, but it’s so beautiful and the cast is great and the M U S I C. Kate Winslet. Alan Rickman. Helen McCrory. STANLEY TUCCI.)Also: they’re not films, but TV shows - honourable mentions to the Spanish series Gran Hotel. It’s like a good version of Downton Abbey, only sorta on crack and with a tonne more murder mysteries; and while I have some Issues with its so-called hero and some comparatively weirdo plot-points in S3, overall, it’s fantastic and I’m obssessed. Please don’t mix it up with the Italian re-make which looks horrible in every way. Like, main actors dressed in a poorly-sewn-table-cloth-bad.And shout-out to the new CBC/Netflix series Anne. I will defend this show to the DEATH, alright? They’ve gone bolder and fresher and have managed to involve period realism in a moving way while retaining the sunshine-and-pinafores element that so many people love about L.M. Montgomery’s work. There’s heaps of women with production credits, and I think it shows. Geraldine James is already my favourite Marilla after one episode, and I feel like R.H. Thompson (HEY JASPER DALE HEEEEY!) and Amybeth McNulty are likely going to become my favourite Matthew and Anne, too. People have complained about this series going off-book and in particular some have condemned it sight-unseen because the writers/directors are putting a feminist spin on it and OH GOD THEY SAID FEMINIST QUICK WE GOTTA SET EVERYTHING ON FIRE BECAUSE CHILDHOOD IS RUINED, but honestly it’s just perky and gorgeous and scrappy and nobody can tell me to my face that Kevin Sullivan didn’t go all the fucking way off-book from the very beginning so I am not gonna sit here and insist that the Megan Fallows Anne of Green Gables was perfection which could never be improved upon because that’s just a plain lie. It was nice and it has its place but it’s time for some new blood. (And NOT the telefilms they’ve also come out with recently with Martin Sheen, bless his heart, but they took a brunette child actor and dumped an atrociously stark box of red hair-dye on her before drawing on her freckles and then telling her to please play everything theatrically to the back of the house even though there is a camera ten inches from her face.) I am HERE FOR ANNE. RIDE OR DIE.

AND NOW, FOR BOOKS!

After that you might assume my L.M. Montgomery recommendation would be Anne of Green Gables and sure I won’t say DON’T read them, but for my money the Emily of New Moon trilogy is more my jam and I wish to God and Netflix in all my prayers that there might someday be a decent adaptation of them.I was really into Cassandra Clark’s Abbess of Meaux mystery series for a time, but then things went a bit pear-shaped in what I think was the fourth(?) book and everything was OOC and honestly I haven’t caught up on the later books after that and they seem to be self-published now but I am a sucker for nuns and mysteries so I’ll probably get back into it when I have time.

The Princess Priscilla’s Fortnight and The Solitary Summer by Elizabeth von Arnim. Vacation-reads! Beautiful prose, some wry wit, and fun hijinks. If you’ve ever wanted to run away and live in an isolated cottage in the wilderness for a little while, these are for you. [ETA: I recently got my hands on a copy of The Jasmine Farm so THANK YOU to one of you who recommended it I am loving it so far only I don’t see the appeal in Andrew so wtf Terry you can do better.]Edward Rutherfurd’s geographical history novels–Sarum is the classic to start with, but the others I’ve read are very good, too. (London, New York, and I’m now working my way through a first-edition of Russka.)Amy Levy. A M Y   L E V Y. Criminally under-recognized Jewish Victorian novelist and poet. Novellas Ruben Sachs and The Romance of a Shop. (RS a beautiful and bittersweet story about the conflicts between love, identity, and expectations, and some would say a response to George Eliot’s Daniel Deronda. TRoaS reading a bit like a less treacle-sweet variation on Little Women, where four sisters try to make their way in the world by setting up their own photography studio in late 19th century London.)The Making of a Marchioness by Frances Hodgkin Burnett. Colonialist racism appears in this one, so be warned. Still the book is a THOUSAND times better than the utterly dreadful adaptation known as The Making of a Lady. Jane is better, Emily is better, Walderhurst is better, pretty much EVERYONE IS BETTER. The pacing is better. The plotting and suspense make actual sense.

The Scarlet Pimpernel by Baroness Orczy. A classic, and the grand-daddy of every secret-identity superhero.

The Forsyte Saga by John Galsworthy. Like, it makes me MAD how good these books are.

And last but not least, a non-fiction selection in Vere Hodgson’s WWII diaries: Few Eggs and No Oranges. Nothing else has ever brought the experience of living (or trying to) under the shadow of the bombs and the threat of invasion quite like these diaries. Fascinating details, engagingly written, and at times a stark reminder that the Allied victory we take for granted in our history could by no means be counted on by the millions who dwelt in daily uncertainty.

[letterdrill08-blog]

5 Simple Statements About orange face mask Explained

A top quality regional Uncooked honey manufactured my skin glow in a means the Some others didn’t! So for the real advantages of a honey mask, use the highest quality honey you discover. Gently wash your face to eliminate any residue; use a smooth towel to evenly dry your face and afterwards moisturize. Mix the above mentioned elements extensively in a small mixing bowl. Coat your face Using the combination using thoroughly clean fingers. Permit it settle for 15 minutes. In the meantime, you could lie down, near your eyes and chill out given that the mask does its magic. When the time is up, rinse your face, and pat dry which has a thoroughly clean towel. This is a superb mask for fellas, as it can soothe both equally razor burn off, and more than-weathered Winter season skin. The yogurt acts like a moisturizer, whilst the cucumber lessens redness and presents moisture to dry, sensitive pores and skin. The fats within the avocado and complete milk yogurt are deeply moisturizing to the pores and skin, when the lactic acid while in the yogurt smooths the skin, refines pores, and stimulates collagen manufacturing. Generally pull your hair back again by using a hair band ahead of implementing a face mask to forestall hair strands from slipping ahead and sticking towards the masks. Any wellness question asked on This web site might be visible to the individuals who search This great site. Hence, the person assumes the obligation not to disclose any personally identifiable information from the issue. August 2, 2014 at eight:19 pm Hi there! I\'m hoping the redness-lessening mask for rosacea - I\'ve only employed a small little bit on my face as compared to just what the recipe created, am i able to keep it while in the fridge for a few days to use again or do I really have to produce a new mixture whenever? I've my fingers crossed it really works! Thanks! Nice piece. https://www.pinterest.com/pin/722616702689410044/ to get back again to Fundamental principles and out of the chemical laden cosmetics. I will be striving honey tonight. But Once https://www.facebook.com/steptoremedies/posts/2099741476785788 took it off, my skin felt crazy soft, and I didn’t even have to have to use moisturizer that night, though I did go to mattress craving a strawberry smoothie.” The orange peel and multani mitti, or fuller’s earth, mask removes tan, supplying a good pores and skin complexion. Orange peel will lighten the pores and skin and fuller’s earth will soothe the irritated skin. Here’s tips on how to use multani mitti or fuller’s earth for pores and skin care troubles. Activated charcoal has sturdy absorbent Homes that make it a fantastic remedy to get rid of oily pores and skin and blackheads. Incorporating organic clay results in the higher absorption of sebum out of your pores and skin, while applying Uncooked unfiltered apple cider vinegar, which assists Management its oiliness. Get it done you: Submerge the shells in ice for 15 to 20 minutes. Get rid of within the ice and slip the idea of the finger snugly in to the slim mouth of each shell. Be sure to include only ½ a teaspoon or at least 5 drops of lemon juice. You don’t want your skin to have a severe red complexion in addition a burning feeling! It’s terrible, trust me.

Top latest Five diy face mask Urban news

Soon after I rinsed, my face felt smoother than the usual silk pillow and was, in reality, so luminous that my spouse questioned if I was screening a fresh face cream. A whole new face product—suitable, that’s it.” Coconut oil has antimicrobial and anti-inflammatory Homes. These Qualities assistance defend the skin from external pollutants. Blend https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=73zQ1YBr3Xs and honey, and apply the mixture in your face. Make it possible for it to take a seat for 20-30 minutes. https://www.facebook.com/steptoremedies/posts/2099734926786443 exfoliates your skin, brightens dark places and fades scars. Papaya is full of antioxidants, and its enzymes support to slough absent outdated, dry skin cells for any glowing, balanced complexion. Jasmin Fiore with the Deva Existence swears by papaya masks as A part of her healing routine, and sings the praises of this rejuvenating ponder-fruit. This is a good mask for fellas, as it can soothe the two razor burn, and in excess of-weathered Winter season pores and skin. The yogurt acts being a moisturizer, whilst the cucumber lessens redness and delivers dampness to dry, delicate pores and skin. Yeast face masks Have got a rejuvenatingeffect as the merchandise has superior amounts of nutritional vitamins B, C and PP. By performing over the skin in combination with enzymes, amino acids and minerals, vitamins and aligned wrinkles make new complexion. Within the basket of mother nature, we are below with an extremely successful and natural skin therapy termed; strawberry face mask. Strawberry is definitely the compact berry fruit, exotic and mouth watering! via steptoremedies.com is actually rich in vitamins and minerals. This superfood incorporates lactic acid a robust nutrient that smoothens out tough skin, moisturizes skin and nourishes dry withered skin. The zinc located in yogurt is helpful in that it soothes inflammations brought on by acne, therefore building them much less obvious. Solution: Any honey will do, but I remarkably advocate using Uncooked, unfiltered honey on your face mask as it retains much more of your potent therapeutic Qualities. People with dry skin ought to use this as it has astounding substances that heal and nourish dehydrated skin. Amazon India delivers collectively a number of the best skin care solutions on the market that have been collected from across different countrywide and Global brands. The diversity in the type of treatment options and masks offered is enormous and is certain to satisfy the wants of each purchaser. For those seeking for a complete skin procedure, we provide consolidated packs that comprise of numerous vital factors intended to aid your skin. The VLCC Gold Facial Kit is a great illustration of a package that can help you reach a Obviously glowing skin using a gold scrub, gold peel-off mask, gold gel and gold product. The scrub will help remove impurities from a pores and skin, the peel-off mask absorbs the impurities, the gel unclogs your skin’s pores as well as the product gives an invigorating scent in addition to refreshing your skin. Ideas: Performs very best when contemporary. Allow the mixture stand for about ten minutes prior to applying it on the acne-affected places. Source Damp a washcloth and push it towards your face to loosen the mask, then rinse with warm h2o. In case you have delicate pores and skin, you ought to avoid rubbing your face as the coffee grounds could most likely scratch your skin.

Considerations To Know About strawberry face mask

As an added bonus, after the face mask recipes, we’ll show you about The obvious way to realize flawless pores and skin...Whilst you snooze. What could possibly be much better than that? And among https://www.wikihow.com/Make-a-Facial-Mask to incorporate in the Do it yourself face mask is oatmeal. To assist you to out, the professionals at SiO Beauty have developed 6 uncomplicated and entertaining-to-make oatmeal face mask recipes for all your skin treatment requires. Start Slideshow Each and every solution we characteristic continues to be independently chosen and reviewed by our editorial crew. In case you generate a invest in utilizing the back links incorporated, we may well earn Fee. These look like superb face masks, honey does miracles to the skin and leaves your face incredibly clean! Another face mask which is Tremendous easy and intensely useful is a simple honey and cinnamon mask. Those with dry skin should use this since it is made up of awesome ingredients that recover and nourish dehydrated pores and skin. Blend strawberry, honey and product to create an exceptionally hydrating face mask that could leave your skin moisturized and glowing! Scrub your skin with this paste and take away it right after about 20 minutes. If you do not have milk powder, then use two tablespoons of oatmeal.   stepto remedies could use conversion monitoring pixels from advertising networks including Google AdWords, Bing Ads, and Facebook in order to determine when an advertisement has properly resulted in the specified motion, which include signing up for your HubPages Support or publishing an write-up to the HubPages Provider. Are you aware that strawberries are one of the best normal products, made by mother nature, to use on the skin? They comprise vital fruit acids (AHA's), which includes salicylic acid, which can be commercially bought with achievement for acne procedure. We could use conversion tracking pixels from promoting networks which include Google AdWords, Bing Ads, and Facebook as a way to establish when an ad has productively resulted in the desired motion, for example signing up for the HubPages Services or publishing an report over the HubPages Services. Retain the mask apart for 50 % an hour or so. Lastly, apply it on your face and neck and rinse it off with warm drinking water just after 20 minutes. Abide by up having a toner and moisturizer.   The mildly abrasive texture of strawberries causes it to be a superb exfoliator that can gently scour Dust, dead cells and excessive oils within the skin's surface. Honey will Carefully cleanse your face in addition to act as a gentle exfoliator to counteract the abrasive nature with the fruit. Sit for fifteen minutes As you Allow the mask do its do the job. You can use this the perfect time to soak in a tub or get lunch Completely ready. If the time is up, Carefully scrub off the mask utilizing heat h2o. When it’s all off, splash chilly h2o onto your face to close your pores. Pat dry by using a towel. Make an avocado and witch hazel face mask. Avocado has vitamin E and that is ideal for dry skin, and witch hazel gets rid of extra oil in addition to impurities. Mash the flesh of the avocado.

Rumored Buzz on yeast face mask

Allow me to share recipes for the top a few face masks for acne. Ensure that you take out all makeup and wash your face carefully prior to applying these normal face packs. Cleansing your face assists unclog pores and makes it possible for the masks to penetrate deep into the skin. . I utilize it no less than 2x a week, by using a diference in preparing. A technique is with milk and rosehip oil (very moisturizing) the other way is with h2o and calamine lotion (clearing and oil Management). Go away it on for forty five min and wash with lukewarm h2o. youtube little herbs is a fantastic mask for dry, peeling and scaling skin. The avocado and coconut oil offer replenishing dampness, though the honey helps to heal any chafed or raw regions. Clay masks are brilliant for controlling oily pores and skin. Honey can help split up extra oil and really absorbent clay gets rid of it whilst Carefully exfoliating. Bentonite and Moroccan Purple are two of the best clay decisions for balancing oily pores and skin. Within a bowl, mash the strawberries that has a fork till easy. Insert inside the honey and mix the substances collectively. Employing thoroughly clean hands or possibly a sanitized brush, gently implement the combination all over your face, keeping away from the eye place. Why waste income on pricey creams when you can take care of you into a relaxing home made face mask with complete-egg mayonnaise from the have refrigerator? Carefully spread https://en.search.wordpress.com/?src=organic&q=skin+care around your face and go away it on for about 20 minutes. Your not too long ago viewed goods and showcased recommendations › Look at or edit your searching historical past It's a little drying, but normal moisturizer procedure afterwards would perform (however I normally hold out a tiny bit after masks, don't desire to use nearly anything whilst pores are open. Distribute the orange peels in a very tray and spot them in a location that receives lots of sunshine. Leave them there till These are extensively dried—this commonly normally takes 1 to 2 days, but might take up to 5 in chilly, cloudy climate. Puree the papaya in the food stuff processor or blender till just mashed evenly, and after that blend in the other elements by hand. Unfold over your face, steering clear of your eyes, and Allow it sit for 10-15 minutes. Wipe or rinse your face thoroughly clean, and smile at your self within the mirror. When you've got extreme paleness or redness of the skin within your face: yeast face mask tones and gives to pores and skin a good looking matte or pearly shade that can delight any person. Produce a paste out of equal portions of coffee powder and cocoa powder by mixing it with a little bit of honey. https://www.pinterest.com/pin/722616702689548172 on the face and neck and clean off when you really feel its appropriate. Include lemon juice, honey and baking soda to a small bowl. Combine well and utilize about the face and neck. Avoid the place near your eyes (lemon juice and honey will both equally sting). Fantastic, there is a spot for this. A pal on-line begun chatting with me about skin and he or she suggested a yeast face mask with milk. I in no way heard about this kind of factor but I figured Why don't you, I love masks. So I tried it. I just pour a little dry yeast (the very little beads) into a small dish and add a few drops of milk.

The 2-Minute Rule for yeast face mask

These masks are ideal for an at-dwelling facial. Start with clean up skin and ahead of making use of the mask, lay a warm, wet clean cloth on your own face to open up your pores. Soon after rinsing from the mask, wash your face with chilly drinking water or utilize a toner to close the pores. Then utilize a good face oil. For starters you might want to moisturize dry pores and skin. To do https://en.search.wordpress.com/?src=organic&q=beauty+tips , that can match this mask: chop sauerkraut; Yeast is incredibly typically used in the baking marketplace for various factors. Even so, yeast might be included to one’s magnificence routine too. The truth is, yeast face masks have been employed for pretty a very long time as a way to decrease the looks of wrinkles and rejuvenate the pores and skin. Thanx. I am a black/african woman 0f 41. I'm gentle in complection, but my face looks so uninteresting and gray. I've tried using evri solution but my pores and skin retaliates skin treatment routine. This is yet another very good therapy for acne. This variation is usually wholly constructed from all-natural and edible substances. The cornstarch present On this face mask will attract out some further oil as well as impurities. This mask is well suited for oily pores and skin. This mask don't just dispose of acne, and also take out the black spots and give the skin a lovely matte complete. Contraindications This is another excellent pack to remove tan and brighten the pores and skin. Get two tbsp orange peel powder, include in a handful of drops of lime also to this include a tbsp Each and every of fullers earth and sandalwood powder to make a clean paste. Points: Honey has antimicrobial Houses and antioxidants which might be beneficially sticky. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Zp0yRy44XH0 pulls absent the dust, dead skin, and microbes through the pores though the antimicrobial Homes preserve the skin from getting infected yet again. Honey alone can be used to be a mask and is particularly powerful in curing acne by cleaning your pores and not letting microbes develop, on account of its antimicrobial Attributes. On top of that, the waxy A part of honey helps you to retain the pores and skin tender, easy and glowing. A face mask prepared from orange peels may audio like an odd concept, however it is extremely productive. You don’t consider it? Give it a test and you may be impressed by the outcomes! when https://steptoremedies.com/diy-body-scrubs-bath-bombs/ have excessive paleness or redness of your pores and skin of your face: yeast face mask tones and offers to pores and skin an attractive matte or pearly shade that can delight anybody. Similar to coffee, cocoa much too is a superb supply of antioxidants. Yogurt is actually a natural source of alpha hydroxy acid, a all-natural exfoliation compound that helps in breaking down the dead pores and skin cells. To help make the face mask, you'll need 4 tablespoons of ground coffee beans, 4 tablespoons of cocoa powder and six to 8 tablespoons of unflavored yogurt. In https://www.wikihow.com/Have-Perfect-Skin , halt working with this technique and take a look at on the list of other masks. You need to check with a training aromatherapist ahead of working with any essential oils.

[gladisbamford-blog]

5 Easy Gardening Tips For Individuals Along with Allergies

Greetings, as well as I would love to invite everyone back, certainly not just in the room, but that consists of the individuals that are joining our team online. Through deciding on the very best gardening tools achievable, you guarantee that your time in the yard are going to be actually pleasurable. I have actually been there just before and read through lots about its own advancement from a personal garden for Catherine de Medici to the web site of demonstrations as well as changes to a beloved social park. There is actually a one-day landscape trip for folks to panel the train and also drop in ten destinations though out Southerly Ontario to watch florals and also Stratford is one of the quits. Absolutely nothing is much better compared to coming house to a secure and also stunning landscape after a long time. However, I have a feeling that popular cooking area sage has a very low volume of thujones within, otherwise people will be actually aligned at my frontal door (or sneaking around in my yard at night) merely in order to get a handful of valuable fallen leaves. If there is not nearly enough white colored space in your life to preserve job life equilibrium, or if, like me, you need extra white room in comparison to standard right now, spend some time to modify your devotions as well as proclaim a reprieve on assurances for a few days. The climbed landscapes can contain just mini flowers bushes, climbed shrubs, climbing up roses or even a mixture from all of these to form a lovely climbed yard. Normally, only removal the mobile phone chick coop to a tidy part of the garden or even yard as you clean the wreck that was left behind by chickens. Throughout the globe, water is actually coming to be an incredibly unusual resource as well as our company must learn brand-new methods of conservation, like recycling water and also reprocessing gray water http://sport-fit18.info for watering plants, yard or even filtering system for personal use once more. Crinum Lily bulbs provide to a bold hobbiest or garden enthusiast an ancient backyard light bulb variety that has been reintroduced as boosted crinum duplicates by brilliant inductiveness of drug store, Lester Hannibal of Exhibition Oaks, The golden state.

Hosta Darwin's Criterion possesses flowers that are virtually white however with a contact of the jasmine that many Hosta vegetations are actually understood for. Excellent companions consist of Aucuba japonica and Heuchera. Its attractive, little yet compressed florals come in loads of colours like lilac, orange, reddish, violet, pink as well as white. Among the best searches were actually battling updates globe wrestlers, boyhoodparadise, Tino Rossi, Fredericksburg, Jenny Magenta and also elevation backyard concept. Below that worry and squander of moneys, there will constantly be envy from people residing in residences with a outdoor patio, lawn and landscape . The following springtime, Michael (who was only six at that time), chose he wanted to grow carrots in the garden just like among his favored characters, Insects Bunny. This climbed is actually a pale pink shade, but the facility appears to be bordered by a white colored framework.

[monogramcoffee]

Ninety Plus Gesha Estates: Variety.

In the last post, I talked about what Joseph Brodsky and Ninety Plus have done for the land at Ninety Plus Gesha Estates. They apply the same amount of detail and care to their coffee trees. Joseph firmly believes that healthier trees make better coffee. To do this he has used lots of different shade trees throughout the farm, ensured that the soil is healthy, and even counted and catalogued every tree on the farm! In my opinion, this kind of attention to detail is at the core of what makes this farm so unique.  

All coffee is originally from Africa, brought to the western hemisphere during colonial times. Only a few varieties were brought over at that time. This means that there are thousands of heirloom varieties still in Africa, each with their own unique flavour profiles, waiting to be discovered. Gesha is a coffee variety that arrived from Africa in the 20th century. It was not well known until Panamanian producers started planting it at higher elevations and then it transformed. Washed geshas are floral and exotic, with orange blossom, jasmine, tea, brown sugar, and elegant acidity. Since that discovery, farmers from around the world have planted gesha, however it does not guarantee quality. Only farms that grow gesha well and with good farm practices will reap the full benefits of this unique variety. Hopefully one day another variety with an equally exciting profile will emerge from Africa and we’ll get to taste yet another facet of coffee’s amazing flavour potential.

Ninety Plus Gesha Estates is planted exclusively with Gesha. Joseph chose to plant Gesha throughout the farm because he believes that it is one of the best representations of the diversity of the east African coffee flavour profile and it has the biggest range and diversity of potential flavours compared to other varieties. I experienced this while cupping on the farm. Even though all the coffees are one variety and from one farm, the flavours here are anything but monochromatic. I’ve had delicate floral coffees, super fruity and chocolaty coffees, and even some flavours that I have never experienced in a coffee before. Joseph and the team at Ninety Plus Gesha estates spend a lot of time learning how to use each processing method–washed, honeyed, and natural– to bring out different aspects of the variety.

In the coffee industry many people feel that the natural process removes or covers the original character of coffee and eclipses the factors that made it taste the way it does, e.g. variety, soil, region, country. Naturally processed coffee is very fruity and intense and it wins many people over to speciality (both Jeremy and myself fell in love with coffee through naturally processed African coffees), but people argue that it is not a true expression of terroir. Ninety Plus Gesha Estates spends a significant amount of work learning how each processing method affects gesha grown in Panama. They have learned how to produce washed, honeyed, and naturally processed coffees that all have clear gesha and Panamanian character, each one its own unique expression of the terrior of Ninety Plus Gesha Estates. In fact, some of the naturally processed coffees I have tasted while here express more terroir because in addition to clear variety and origin notes, there are also distinct fermentation notes that I have only tasted in these coffees.

I hear numerous customers and staff tell me that the coffee moment that made them rethink traditional coffee and start drinking specialty coffee was when they tasted a coffee that “didn’t taste like coffee”. The more that coffee can express terroir through variety, processing, and growing, the more those moments will happen because there will be more farms with unique and distinct flavors. Maybe one day no coffee will taste like “coffee”.