The Roman Baths is a popular tourist site in Bath, England, that averages 1 million visitors a year. The complex is a well preserved site that was used for public bathing. The earliest parts of the complex date back to 70AD. There are four main features: the Sacred Spring, the Roman Temple, the Roman Bath House and the Museum. 1,170,000 litres of steaming spring water reaching 46 °C still fill the bathing site every single day. While you are unable to swim in the baths, self guided audio tours are available in a number of languages.
A/N: This is based on the moment in ACOWAR when Nesta admits that she can’t take baths anymore because of Hybern. I wanted Cassian to help her out with her fear.
Nesta stared at the tub filled with an ankle deep of water. Her breath came out shaky, causing small waves to form over the surface. A towel wrapped around her skin, and the fabric irritatingly rubbed against her body. She knew there was no possibility of submerging herself in the water, two buckets were already filled beside it, but she wanted to try dipping her foot in. Just for a bit. Feyre had already contracted someone to install a shower, but it wasn’t going to be finished for another two weeks. Thus, Nesta continued her routine of using buckets.
Inside, Nesta knew she must look ridiculous, for she was staring at a seemingly empty bathtub. There was nothing in that water that would hurt her, not something that shallow at least. She would lift her leg and dip a toe, nothing more. That would be enough. All of her muscles seemed locked in place as her mind urged her leg to twitch towards the water. She could barely breathe the longer she stared, her thoughts circling around the image of Elain being shoved in those waters, not knowing whether her sister or a corpse would escape. Those moments when Nesta could hear her own heart thundering in her chest, even without Fae hearing. Then, Nesta’s thoughts raced to her own drowning. The tight grip of the Hybern soldiers’s hands on her body. The rage coursing through her as she pointed her finger. The flooding of her lungs—
“By the Cauldron! I am so sorry!”
Nesta whipped around faster than one could winnow to see Cassian standing in the doorway.
“What. The hell. Cassian.”
He was already retreating out the door, covering his eyes with his forearm. “I’m sorry Nesta. I thought—‘
“Did no one ever teach you to knock when there’s a closed door?”
“Closed, Cassian, the door was closed.” Her breathing came out incredibly ragged, and she practically shrieked, “Get out!”
She turned with every ounce of dignity she had left.
“What are those?”
Her voice came out very clipped. “What do you mean, what are those?”
His silence stretched on between them, daring her to turn around. She only allowed her head to graze over her shoulder before she saw he was not looking anywhere near her. Instead, his gaze locked on the buckets on the floor, and his eyes showed where his thoughts were going.
“Cassian. I said get out,” she snarled at him as she turned to face him fully.
“Nesta, are those—“
“They’re nothing,” she breathed, losing all courage from before, “Just leave.”
His head nodded at the order, still not looking at her as he left, lost in his own mind. When he closed the door, she walked over to check the lock and rested her back against the wall. Cassian’s interruption dragged more fight out of her than she thought it would, and she couldn’t motivate herself to even approach the tub let alone dip her toes. Her fight mellowed the longer she stood there, and she slid to the floor.
Too damn weak. She felt so inadequate that she couldn’t even stand. Everything seemed unnecessary beyond her inability to clean herself. Last time she washed was yesterday. She hadn’t done anything strenuous today, so she could wait. She could wait until tomorrow when she would have to wrestle with herself all over again to enter the bathroom and fill the buckets. When she drenched herself in their water, she would always hold her breath and move as quickly as possible. Her record was six bucketfuls, she didn’t think she could handle anything beyond that.
The water was surely cold by now, and as she stood to empty it, her legs shook. Plunging her hand into the tub for the drain, her eyes closed and she felt two silent tears slowly run down her face. The gurgling of the water was the only noise for a while until she heaved the buckets up to drain in the bath as well. Her towel somehow stayed snug against her body the whole time, and she hid the pails under the sink before leaving the room. Where she saw a hulking bat sitting across the hallway from her.
His lips moved as if to speak, but Nesta shot him a glare and practically ran to her room. She heard him follow her, but she just moved faster before slamming her door in his face.
As quickly as she could, she disrobed and dressed herself as he sighed on the other side.
“Nesta—“ he paused, as if wondering if she was going to let him continue—“I’m sorry about earlier. I was debriefing Rhys downstairs and was walking backwards into the door. I didn’t see it was closed. My apologies.”
She could hear him turning to walk away, but for whatever cauldron-damned reason, she opened her door.
“You weren’t there.”
His back strained at her words and his wings hitched slightly.
“Nesta, you know that ever since Hy—“
“Not there. I know there’s nothing you could have done. I don’t think you do, but that’s for another time.”
He was facing her now, and his jaw worked as if he were going to say something. She held up her hand. “Let me finish. You weren’t at the meeting with Graysen.” She took a deep breath, somehow this private admission a million times harder than the one that she made so long ago. “Your eyes were on those buckets, and your thoughts seemed to be working faster than your mind could handle. So I, ah, guess you should hear it from me before you draw your own conclusions. Taking a bath is pretty difficult after —“ she gestured pathetically with her arms—“everything. Feyre’s getting a, what do you call it? A shower installed. It’ll be another two weeks, so I use buckets instead of a bath. I wanted to see if I could dip my feet today, or at least my toes,” she sighed, “turns out I’m a little too pathetic for even that.”
She didn’t realize that she never once looked at him the whole time, but when she did, his face was completely stricken with devastation. Her fingers scratched behind her ear, and she attempted to walk past him.
“Nesta.” His hand was on her arm and his gaze was intense. “Nothing about your situation is pathetic. We share at lot of sexual jokes, but I’m serious when I say I have a shower at my house that you can use in the mean time. If you need to. Want to.”
She’d never admit how grateful she was at his offer, but the look in his eyes showed that maybe he could feel her relief. “Thanks. I’ll think about it.”
Their gazes locked for a moment longer, before she turned to leave and his hand left her arm.
At Ritas that evening, the whole inner circle enjoyed a night out including Elain and Nesta. All together, they shared a few drinks though Nesta drank less than everyone and sat completely erect on a barstool. Their group swayed along to whatever tempo they pleased while Nesta stared amazed that even Amren joined in their revelry. Looking at them all, she knew she could join them, in fact, they’d already encouraged her multiple times. Cassian never directly asked her once, but his eyes skirted over to hers almost too often. As if now that she told him her fear, she would shatter if left to her own devices.
Nesta slowly nursed her water at his excessiveness until the prick behind her shoved into her the bar.
“Excuse—“ Nesta started as she turned around.
Her voice was drowned out by the fighting males behind her. And the full mug of ale that completely drenched her outfit. There was no time to become angry at her sodden state. The fighting pair continued as though nothing happened, and Nesta just stared at herself mouth agape.
“Hey, Hey, Hey, HEY.”
Nesta looked up at that.
Cassian stood with his arms erect, breaking up the fight. His words were hushed between the two swaying drunks. Whatever he said calmed them, and his main tactic seemed to be forcing them to break eye contact by repeatedly claiming “look at me”. Nesta heard him say it so much that she didn’t realize he was saying it to her until she looked up.
His eyes were inches from her face and stared at her with concern. “There you are.” He gave her a small smile. “Are you okay?”
“Of course I’m okay. I wasn’t in that fight,” she hummed, “Can you get out of my face?”
He moved as if he just now realized their proximity and skirted his gaze down her dress. With his raised eyebrows, she couldn’t help but look too. “Nesta, I’d always thought I’d see you wet, but these were not quite the circumstances I was imagining.”
Nesta’s jaw dropped for a second time that evening. “Is there a real reason you came over here? Or did you just want to make some poorly timed innuendos and have to disrupt that fight to do it?”
“If you must know—” he leaned in close again—“your damp state seemed like you were going to need to wash.”
Nesta froze. She had not thought about that part of her evening yet.
“And I thought maybe you’d…want to come to my place.” The last words came so fast that she almost thought she misheard him. Almost. Which was why her response felt like too much.
“Fine. But you’re not allowed any more innuendos.”
He put his hands up in defense but wore a grin of satisfaction before leading the way out.
Not a word was spoken between them as they winded through the streets of Velaris. Nesta’s anxiety grew the longer they walked. From an outsider perspective, their situation would look promiscuous as he took her home, but there was nothing sexual about their silence. They weaved their way through town, down alleys, and Nesta could’ve sworn they‘d cross the Sidra twice. The peace shared between them seemed so delicate that Nesta had no desire to break it, especially since Cassian was offering so much to let her use his shower. A slight breeze passed, and Nesta’s dress, clinging to her body now that it was soaked, caused her to shiver.
She could feel Cassian look at her out of the corner of his eye and almost snapped. Tear him apart for taking them in a seemingly pointless journey through Velaris when there had to be a better route. Her mouth opened slightly to voice—
“Here we are,” Cassian gestured to a single brick townhouse, identical to all the others on the street. To Nesta’s surprise, every window had a lush garden growing in boxes underneath them. Cassian walked up the stairs, and Nesta stared at his back without really seeing it.
“Do all Illyrians in this city live in townhouses?” Nesta inquired.
Cassian jangled his keys, and Nesta began to ascend the stairs after him. “At least we’re not compensating for anything—” he turned to wink at her—“But considering there’s only three of us, yes we all do.”
Nesta scoffed at that and stepped aside as Cassian opened the door. As though he forgot she was there, he stumbled into his home without any bravado, not even turning on a light, and lightly made his away upstairs.
“Nesta, there’s definitely no water out there. If you would like to enjoy the particulars of indoor plumbing, you’ll need to follow me to the bedroom,” he called as he turned towards her.
“We agreed on no innuendos.”
“And there has yet to be one. The only bathroom with a shower here is upstairs—“ he turned back around—“So my offer still stands, but you’ll need to enter the room where I sleep.”
Nesta padded up after him.
His bathroom was huge. Everything in it was built to accommodate wings, making it all three times larger than necessary. What she assumed was his shower had three spigots each with two handles underneath. Cassian left her there unceremoniously, and she’d already stripped herself bare. Though she claimed she would be fine, there were too many levers and the water shot down in a pounding waves so hard that Nesta immediately turned it off, scared of its power. She cracked the door open.
“Cassian,” she practically whispered as if he’d be right inside his bedroom. No response.
“Cassian.” Much louder.
Footsteps sounded from downstairs, and she waited for his approach. She felt like an uncivilized idiot who couldn’t even learn how to use a freaking shower.
Someone tapped lightly on the door. “Can I come in, Nesta?” he sounded incredibly tired on the other side. She let him in.
“I don’t know how to work the shower,” she stated, “I mean I don’t know how to make the water more tolerable.”
He just stared at her. “Is the rain okay?”
“You’ve been out in the rain since the cauldron. Is the rain okay?”
She thought back to memories of such gloomy weather and nodded. With those directions, he turned some dials on the faucets and spun the handles so water came out.
“That should feel like a light storm. If all three are too much, just use the one in the middle. The knobs underneath control the water temperature.”
A wave of exhaustion passed through her so strong that she had nothing to remind him that she knew how to turn it on. She left it at, “Thank you.”
As he left, he called, “When you’re done, just come get me to bring you home. I’ll be downstairs.”
She nodded before he turned and walked away. The bathroom that once seemed huge, now appeared tiny. Nothing in that room mattered except for the dripping water. Nesta stared at it a little, astonished that Cassian had been so generous throughout this whole situation. After so many years in that hovel, she was trained not to waste water, no matter how much she wished she could just stare at it and be clean. The towel dropped to the floor as she caught a waft of her beer-ladder self. Tentatively, she raised her arm and let the water cascade down. She could stop herself whenever she felt, but she chose to step over the tiny ledge on the floor anyway.
The sensation of all that water hitting her at once was too much. The warmth of it enveloping her to a point of choking that she blindly grasped for the faucet on her right, shutting the flow off immediately. On her other side, she fumbled more, but still managed to find it rather quickly. Above her, water came at a calming, leisurely rate. She closed her eyes. It’s just rain. It’s just rain. It’s just rain.
Her breathing slowed, slightly.
She could do this.
She’d already stood there for longer than those buckets could ever drench her. That thought though, forced herself to exit the stream. Her toes remained wet. She couldn’t help but think of only a few hours ago when she’d restrained from even putting her foot in the water. A sharp laugh escaped her.
Lathering herself in soap and washing multiple times, Nesta could only stand in the water for maybe a minute at a time before believing the shower a rainstorm washed away. All in all, she stayed there for maybe seven minutes. A short wash for anyone else, but the longest Nesta had had in months. Though they’d won the war, this felt like Nesta’s largest victory. Cassian’s towel felt like velvet as she wrapped herself in it, wondering if she just thought that way because of the significance of her evening.
Outside, folded neatly on the bed, were a small stack of clothes meant for her. She quietly wandered downstairs to find Cassian. As she passed through his living room, she thought maybe he was in the kitchen only to find it empty. Rather, after some insistent searching, she found him curled on the couch, his wings forming a cocoon in place of blanket, making it appear as though he never meant to fall asleep.
His face seemed peaceful, more so than she had maybe ever seen it. After everything he had done for her tonight, he deserved some rest. She found a blanket and draped him in it before realizing that with his hulking form, there was really no place for her to sleep down here. Scrambling back up the stairs was her only option. First, she opened the door across the hall from his room, hoping to find a guest suite, but it was an office filled with maps and strategies. Which meant her only option was his bed. It felt like a personal intrusion, but the more exhausted part of her mind reminded her she’d already used his shower, so why not surrender to the comforts of his sheets.
Immediately, his scent invaded her nose the tighter she tucked herself in, but she found it intoxicating. A depressant stronger than any alcohol consumed that evening. She pulled the sheets tightly, almost feeling like Cassian was there with her. After almost no time at all, she fell asleep, her dreams filled with not a single drop of water.
In the morning, Cassian woke her up by poking her shoulder. They’d shared a small smile before he walked her home, and again neither of them said anything until they reached Rhys’s home where Nesta thanked him. Then, kissed him on the cheek, an action that surprised them both.
No matter how much shock there was though, Cassian welcomed her to his home for showers every day before Feyre got one installed. And thankfully never commented when she occasionally stopped in after it was.
Simon dragging Baz into a Lush store, and even though Baz is grumpy about it, he's the one who ends up spending over £100
I’VE BEEN SAVING THIS PROMPT FOR A SPECIAL DAY. HAPPY VALENTINE’S DAY, Y’ALL.
“Just fuck me up,” Simon whispered under his breath, eyeballing the Sunnyside bath bomb.
Baz just stared at the metal bucket, overflowing with bath bombs covered in gold edible glitter. He tried to gently guide Simon away from the display, but Simon’s feet might as well have been made out of lead. “No, Snow. I draw the line at glitter.”
Simon just glared up at him, jaw set and right hand already defiantly grabbing a Sunnyside and dropping it into their basket.
“I don’t want to fight you today, love,” Simon said, wiping his hand on Baz’s jumper, “but you did promise to let me go to Lush today.”
Baz flicked the side of Simon’s head and shoved the basket at him. They’d been in here less than five minutes and he was already drowning in all these smells.
The sales lady had been far too chipper when they’d entered, there were too many bright colors, and the gigantic blocks of soap with knives stuck in them were making Baz really uncomfortable.
Simon, on the other hand, was living. He loved all the cute little bath melts, and the Valentine’s Day display they had, with cherub-shaped soap bars hanging from the rafters, was ridiculously cute.
He took a picture to send to Agatha since Penny definitely wouldn’t appreciate the aesthetic properly.
“Simon,” Baz snapped, suddenly leaning over Simon’s shoulder and almost making Simon send the display flying. “Quit doing a photoshoot and get what you need. I agreed on 30 minutes.”
I should have known, Simon thought.
Somewhere along the way, Baz had remembered he loved to pamper himself. Like, really loved to pamper himself.
They’d been in there over two hours before Baz was ready to leave. Now, as they ambled their way back to the flat, there was a clear distinction between Simon’s stuff and his boyfriend’s.
Simon looked down at the reasonably-sized bag of goodies in his mittened hand. He got a couple bath bombs, a shower jelly in a nice cherry scent, and the Ocean Salt scrub because it reminded him of the beach he and Baz went to all the time in the summer.
Then, he glanced a look at Baz’s pile, stacked up toward the gloomy sky. Even with his vampiric strength, he looked wobbly under the weight of bath bubblers, lotions, fizzies, scrubs, eyeliners, shampoos, and boxes of every soap the store carried.
“You know, Simon,” Baz said conversationally, his voice muffled underneath a loofa, “I do think you bought too much.”
Simon snorted, winding an arm around Baz’s waist to guide him from falling off the curb. There’d be nothing for it if all his precious goodies ended up tumbling out all over the busy London streets.
Giggling into the pink scarf he had wrapped tight around the lower half of his face, Simon replied, “I think we’re getting a bit confused on who bought what. But I still love you.”
Baz, beginning to teeter up the steps to the front door of their flat building, paused. Simon heard him hum. “I love you, too. But,” he quipped, “I’d love you even more if you opened the fucking door for me.”
I know I promised more theories but I couldn’t help myself! Please remember it is fanfic-so try not to murder my heart and soul. :)
Nessian Part One by L.J. Lafleur
It’s been sixty-one days, exactly sixty-one days since the war. Since
the violent beginning met a grizzly end. Sixty-one days since I saw my sisters
conjure more courage, more fight than I could, than I did. It would be daft to
say the war didn’t change me. I just didn’t realize how much it would.
Staring out the window in my room, I could see the garden
Elain had been working so diligently on. I would watch her as she spent hours
perfecting the courtyard-creating a garden that would put the Spring Court to
shame. I couldn’t speak to her. After I abandoned them when we arrived back,
retreating to my room in their time of need, I couldn’t face her. Even now, through the distance and
window pane, I could barely look at her. Feyre reminded me of mother and Elain,
she reminded me of father. Both of our parent’s dead. Both death’s I’ve
witnessed, I watched utterly helpless as they died right before me. Both reminding me
of the horrid memories that I can never erase.
My feet moved me away from the window, sweeping me towards
the small shelf with my favorite novels. Someone had built a shelf when I was
bathing, just above the cozy filigree green and cream fabric chair, and stacked
all the novels I treasured. How anyone knew of them, I’ll never know. I guess
we all have our secrets.
Bronte Baths is a 30 metre man-made ocean pool, to the south of Bronte Beach. Located on kilometre from the Famous Bondi Beach, Bronte is known for its great surf, recommended for confident surfers only.
Entry to the pool is free, and the grassy park behind the pool is great for an after swim barbecue or picnic.
My parents are the stereotypical black church parents and I feel terrified to say I am a witch
well, tragic backstory unlocked: I lived in group homes for a long time when i was young, and most of them are exceptionally Christian and strict in what religions you can practice and what books you could have
they were so bad they kicked out a girl for being gender variant in presentation bcuz she may have been gay
they stole a lot of my books and threw them away, warned me of being removed from the home, banned music that wasn’t gospel, and forced us to go to church
it was bad and anything metaphysical was a risk of being kicked out
i practiced divination using playing cards for years because of this
i became really good at cooking so my spells were edible and safe looking
i used birthday candles and car air fresheners instead of incense
my altar was literally seemingly random items that could fit into a hello kitty sandwich box
if you worry about abusive backlash or you legit just do not wanna deal with it, keep it discrete
adding herbs to your mop buckets
get really into natural body products
and hide that shit until you live alone/feel safe being more open about it
This is my first ACOTAR fic. I haven’t written fan fic in ages so am a little out of practice. It’s a little smutty, but not full on. NSFW depending on where you work lol. Please reblog, add comments, and let me know what you think. I hope you enjoy, thanks!
It had been two months since the battle with Hybern and Feyre had finally installed the shower she had promised Nesta. After everything that had happened Nesta hadn’t pushed her on it and had spent the last months grudgingly using buckets to bathe until her damned sister deigned to remember her request for an updated bathing room. One of the wraths, Nuala or Cerridwen, Nesta could never tell them apart, had showed her how to use the new standing shower and now Nesta stood naked in her bathing room waiting to take the plunge.
It was ridiculous she knew, her unwillingness to go in a bath. The king was dead, the cauldron safe and far away, and yet she still couldn’t get her head to go under water. She had tried countless times to just get over it, but she would never forget being submerged in the cauldron for the rest of her very long immortal life. So she turned the faucet and stepped into the stream of water. It was glorious. After months of buckets the feel of the water rushing down her skin in a steady stream was bliss. She grabbed one of the many body soaps she had collected during her time in Velaris and began to scrub every inch of her body. She had to admit that despite her initial distaste for the City of Dreams, it did provide an excellent selection of luxury goods.
As she relished the endless stream of hot water she heard a knock on her bedroom door. “What” she snapped at whoever was interrupting her first moments of happiness in a long time. “Rhys has news about the human queens. He expects us all at the House of Wind for a meeting in an hour” Cassian called through the closed door. Nesta tensed. Things have been strained between her and Cassian since that day on the battlefield, more strained than usual, which was saying something. Nesta always had something to say, always, but with Cassian she took an extra second to consider her words. She had seen the way Feyre looked at Rhysand, like he was a god among males and scoffed at ever feeling that way about another, but with Cassian, she had to admit there was a pull. Something drew her to the insanely handsome warrior with the cocky grin. Enough was enough, they’d barely spoken these last two months and she deserved some fun. Elain was finally adjusting to life here; the war was behind them and Nesta wanted to feel alive again.
I braced myself as I walked
into the hell that is the Court of Nightmares. An ugly reminder of my past, of
Layers of rock and filth
surrounding a den of monsters. Creatures that haunted human and fae nightmares.
Luckily, I’ve had practice walking amongst demons. Hundreds of years, to be exact.
However, you can’t choose
your family. The same blood that flows through me, snakes through my brothers,
father and mother. I like to think what little good that flickers inside me is
I hurried through the crowd
of despicable beings; I was late. Rhysand had called to me but I was too
distracted by Nesta to respond. I hadn’t been distracted like this before. I
hadn’t cared before. Another
infuriating tick with this woman.
When I didn’t respond to
him, he gripped my brain, holding me still as I hovered above Nesta. They don’t
call him the most powerful High Lord without reason.
“Thank you for joining us,
Eris,” Rhysand tilted his head, raising his chin towards me. He sat at the head
of the table, in an onyx chair meant for a king. Beside him, in a matching
chair, sat Feyre—High Lady of the Night Court.
Glancing around the room, I
realized they were all here. The inner circle, the ones who made the rest of
Prythian tremble. “I apologize for not coming sooner,” I replied flatly.
“What delayed you?” Amren
sneered, her silver eyes sending daggers into my chest. She was different since
the war, that other worldly danger didn’t linger behind her irises. Still…I
wasn’t about to irritate the ancient beast.
I stared at her, at the fire
bird who saved us, who unleashed herself upon the sea of men. Crossing my arms
against my chest, I smirked, “busy. Not all of us have time to continue affairs
in distant courts.”
Amren snarled in response.
“Is Nesta alright?” Cassian
asked quietly, a leash tightened around his growing anger.
I nodded, unsure if I should
explain what really delayed me. What I saw in the flames, what nearly
frightened her to death. What stole a minute of my life away.
“Why did you take her?”
Feyre asked, her voice ringing against the rock walls.
This caught my attention. I
knew why, but she didn’t. Keep it to myself? Or…?
Feyre’s hand lit with fire,
“Why did you let her run
away?” I countered, releasing my arms to pull out a wooden chair from the
center of the table—the center of the inner circle. Perhaps this was my trial.
Budapest’s baths attract millions of visitors to the city every year. The city is built above the worlds largest thermal water cave system, which is made up of over 80 geothermal hot springs. The baths can reach temperatures o up to 58°C. The baths are also used by many for their medicinal value. The minerals naturally found in the water of the springs are considered to be of medical value. The buildings that house the baths are as just as interesting as the baths themselves, with many, such as Gellert Baths which is built in the Art Nouveau style, offering architecture tours as well. Some of the spas run late night Spa and Bath Parties on weekends.
**Usually when I delete something, I just let it go entirely. This time I really didn’t want to do that. This segment just doesn’t fit with the tone I want to set for the upcoming chapter of “Velaris” (happy, Kristen, keep it happy), but I think it is really great all the same, so I decided to share it. The main chapter will be posted tomorrow, but here’s a little something that, again, I loved, but I don’t want to strike this darker tone.
Summary: On a winter morning in Velaris, Azriel remembers Rhysand’s mother.
ok before anyone gets offended im just gonna go for it
so lush is a lil expensive lets be real here
plus, the stores are located in big cities, but probably not in small towns like henrietta, virginia
(I could be wrong but)
so it’s been a year since they graduated, and blue is studying at the community college in henrietta
gansey attempted to pay for her college but she attempted to run him over with his own car so he stopped offering
so blue sargent may not have a phone on which to have a tumblr or instagram
but orla has a mac from college that she blogs on (she has a psychic/beauty blog/insta and no one can tell me otherwise)
so blue is bored one day and wanders into orla’s room and sees her painting her toenails and scrolling through her feed, looking at tutorials and watches some bath bomb reviews (like where people throw them in and BAM! there’s glitter everywhere)
she thinks they’re great!
because they are
but of course the nearest lush is 20 miles away and blue hasn’t been trusted with the family car in quite some time
she’s above asking ronan to drive here there, but one day she’s over at the barns
sitting on his counter like it’s her own, eating yogurt (but still leaving the fruit at the bottom)
ronan is showing her some cool stuff he pulled out of his dreams
somehow it shimmers when it moves but neither of them can figure out how because when it’s still there’s nothing even remotely resembling glitter
but that reminds blue of the bath bomb
she casually brings it up to ronan like so:
“hey fucko you ever pull any bath bombs out of your head”
ronan has no clue what they are (does this boy use his phone for anything other than skyping his boyfriend and irritating his older brother? no)
So apparently I have a Jonsa bath time kink? This is basically the modern au of Leather and Rose, enjoy!
Warning: Dirty talk, sexual instruction, somewhat dom!Jon, and SMUT
The sound of the rushing water bounced off the bathroom tiles. Sansa climbed into the shower, letting the heat sink into her muscles. Her body was sore, and she was exhausted. Aemon was now three years old. He was sweet and cheerful and everything a parent could hope for, but lately he had been finding any excuse he could to get into bed with her and Jon. Whether it was monsters or a tummy ache, he seemed to find some reason to climb into bed with mommy and daddy. They would do their best to coax him back into his room, but last night they had simply given up and slept with a three year old who liked to alternate between snuggling and kicking.
Sansa had dropped off Aemon with Catelyn. She had volunteered to take him a few hours early so Sansa would have time to get ready for Margaery’s gallery opening that night. Sansa was glad to have even an hour to herself to get ready without a three year old popping his head into the bathroom every forty five seconds.
Her back ached from the bizarre position she’d slept in. She eyed the clock. She had some time.
She dropped the stopper into the drain and let the tub fill with water. She sat down in the tub and reclined. She nearly cried with relief. The hot water covered her body. The ache began to ease, and if she didn’t know better she would have sworn she was high from the blissful, floating sensation. Even her breasts floated in the water, joyful to be free from gravity and her oppressive padded bra. She cupped her breasts, enjoying the feel of them in her hands.