PAIRING: Harry/Y/N RATING: R WORD COUNT: 4800+ REQUESTED: yes !
so this came from a small request about eating a popsicle and accidentally starting something that couldn’t be finished…….i went a bit overboard with it, but i hope u enjoy some smut! please let me know what u think :-) it rLY motivates me ! [feedback] [masterlist]
Warnings: Body shaming, derogatory terms directed toward a plus-sized reader, drinking, explicit language, explicit sexual content, oral sex (female receiving), fingering, smut, nsfw
Author’s Notes: Written for two challenges: @winchester-writes Drinking Writing Challenge. My drink was Glenfiddich Scotch and my prompt was “What is everyone staring at?!” and @butiaintgonnaloveem Baby’s Big 50 Writing Challenge. My song was Get Out of My Dreams, Get Into My Car by Billy Ocean. Thank you to @feelmyroarrrr for the amazing idea. This wouldn’t have been possible without my bestie, @mamapeterson and her support, encouragement and words. Love you, T.
Summary: Dan just really wants to put flowers in Phil’s hair. Word Count: 2,498 Warnings: none A/N: Hello! I’ve had this image in my head of Phil with flowers in his hair for like 2 months straight and obv i needed to write about it since I can’t do art. This whole fic is basically just me gushing about how beautiful Phil is and I’m not even ashamed. See art for this fic here, here, here, here, and here!
There is a boy that makes Dan yearn to weave flowers into his hair every time he sees him. There is a boy with pale skin as white as snow and pretty blue eyes the colour of Bluebells. He has hair like the night sky and it sometimes glimmered in the light to form little galaxies. He wanted to thread Baby’s Breath through those pretty raven locks until his hair matches the colour of his eyes.
It was an addiction, an anomaly, something that does not normally cross Dan’s mind. Usually, he doesn’t see someone and want to thread flowers through their hair. Usually, he doesn’t think about flowers at all.
But then he saw him and he couldn’t stop himself from going home and studying the names of flowers that reminded Dan of him. Hyacinths and Marigold and Sweet Peas and Lavender, all melding into one to make the most beautiful man Dan had ever laid eyes on.
“So, that should about cover it Captain.”
“That’s good Roger. I trust that you have a handle on things. It all looks good.” He tapped a few places on his data pad Before setting it down to lift a still steaming cup to his lips.
“I know I’ve been here two months, and I’ve tried not to ask, but…” He paused, looking up at the wall over the Captain’s shoulder. “Is it real?”
The captain raised his eyebrows as he swallowed, recognizing that gleam in his new first officers eyes. “Real?” He put down his cup. “Yes it’s real. That is absolutely sure. Is it the original? There’s no way to know something like that. It could have been changed out a dozen times before such things mattered.” Nathan stood and moved to the small relic hanging on an ornate plaque. “It is the oldest confirmed however. Would you like to hold it?”
“Can I?” He sat forward excitedly.
“Sure.” Nathan lifted it reverently from its place, and carefully handed it to Roger. “The problem becomes the same as the ship of theseus. How many parts can be replaced before something just isn’t the same thing anymore?”
The knife was somehow heavier than he expected. The handle had been roughly drilled out to accommodate the bolts for the brackets which had once held it in place. While obviously well cared for, and fogged with a resistant nano-coating, the blade was pitted with age. It was a standard issue kitchen knife for the time it had been issued, not special on its own in any way. He examined the point, and could see where it had been repaired and resharpened uncountable times. The point had either been rounded off or broken at some point, and ground back into piercing sharpness.
The Captain continued, “They kept ‘em running for dozens of years past any of the others of his model. Scavenged parts at first, when manufacturing stopped. Custom machined bits when those ran out. They say that some of the last silicon based micro processors in existence are on one of his motherboards in the smithsonian back on earth.” He held his hand out, and Roger carefully returned the blade. “He was a wonder. A hero.” He set the knife back on its perch. “In many ways he embodied our collective human soul.” Nathan turned back to Roger, “I saw him once myself, as a child, at a parade before the incident with the K’arneen. Saved the whole Goddamn human race by throwing himself into that reactor.”
“I’m proud to be serving here on his namesake Sir.”
“Good. I am proud to be her captain.” The emergency klaxon chimed as a red light blinked above the Captain’s ready room door. “Looks like it’s go time. Let’s show them what it means to piss off humanity.” They both passed through the door to the bridge, filled with a flurry of controlled madness. “Status helm?” Nathan said, looking up at the Imperial dreadnaut filling the forward screen. A dozen miles in length, and half as many thick. He could see energy pulses issuing from it, and being directed towards it. Explosions randomly blossomed and died across it, seemingly doing little damage.
“Battle was already in progress when we arrived. I believe we have been able to detect the main reactor core, targeting now.” The helmsman said, not looking up from her controls.
“Good. Engineering? Are we ready?”
“We are ready. Activating integrity field, and quantum string edge now.” The voice from the communication panel chimed. Energy danced out across the hardened, disk shaped, hull. An elongated prow jutted from the bow, a knife edge forged from pure neutronium, pulled from the heart of a dead star, honed until the edge was lost in the plank scale quantum foam of time-space.
“Target locked Captain.”
The Captain pressed his com for a ship wide announcement. “All hands brace for attack. Helm. Ramming Speed.”
The E.S.S Stabby McStabface was suddenly thrust toward the dreadnaught by powerful sublight ramjump engines. The enemy was crew shocked, fully unprepared for such an insane maneuver. Their energy shields were useless, heavy armor no match for the sharpened density of high velocity neutronium. Stabby plunged full bodied into the enemy ship, cleaving through its heart before emerging unscathed on the far side. As she turned to begin another pass; a blast wave of radiation, gas, and debris rocked Stabby as the Dreadnaught came apart.
“Captain enemy vessels are beginning to move away from the area.”
“Follow them, and take them out. Target larger vessels first. Show ‘em what Stabby’s got.”
“Aye sir.” The Helmsman said, plotting the next attack vector before engaging the ramming drive.
Request: Could you do a Dean x Reader where they can’t stand each other. Right before a hunt Dean tells her something and hurts her feelings. On the hunt, the reader gets hurt but doesn’t say anything because of what Dean told her. They arrive at the bunker and Dean notices that the reader is asleep and tries to wake her up but notices the blood and freaks out?
Request: “peter parker smut where the reader is
either the daughter of an avenger or maybe just an avenger or something but she
lives in the avengers compound (let’s just say peter decided to take tony up on
his offer) and she’s dating peter and he sneaks into her room and just as
they’re about to start round 2 one of the avengers catches them”
Peter Parker x Reader
team.” Tony gave a forced smile before quickly retreating to get a drink.
to Peter, who was still heaving with bloody tears in his suit. You pulled him
by the arm wordlessly to your room, sitting him down while you retrieved your
first aid kit. He was still a little dazed from the fight, but as you pulled
out a clean needle he gave you an adorable smile.
say ‘this isn’t going to hurt’ I’m going to-“
You smirked. Peter huffed a laugh, leaning back as you started stitching his
I think we’re too good for each other
sometimes. We can barely get out a sentence without the other knowing how it’ll
end.” You shook your head with a rogue smile. “We’re becoming a gross, sappy
couple. I hate it.”
Prompt: “You’re overdue on this book and I want it so I’m tracking you the f**k down” from @nerds-are-cool. Word Count: 1,300 Warning(s): Minor swearing.
⇢ A Sirius Black x Reader work set in the Marauders’ Era.
“Is the book available yet?”
“Magical Water Plants of the Mediterranean?”
You sighed, a slight frown on your face. “Yes. My Herbology essay is due in less than a week now.”
The aged Hogwarts librarian narrowed her eyes at you. She showed absolutely no sign of caring. “The only copy I have hasn’t been returned, I’m afraid.”
“May I know who still has it?” you questioned, frustrated.
For the past two weeks, you have been probing the library, scrounging for the book–or even something similar to it–to no avail. Now, whoever had it was at least two weeks overdue and the book was still not in your clutches.
In response, Madam Pince pulled out a thick file. “Magical Water Plants, Magical Water Plants,” she murmured as she flicked through the pages. “Here. Magical Water Plants of the Mediterranean by Hadrian Whittle. Checked out by a Sirius Black about four weeks ago.”
Your cursed under your breath. The answer was so obvious, you shouldn’t have been surprised. “Sirius Black,” you muttered, internally groaning. “Why him?”
Madam Pince, however, was paying you no mind. She mumbled endless incantations, vowing to maim Black to the very extent it would be allowed. You attempted to suppress a shiver at her uncensored words; Irma Pince took her books very seriously.
You shook your head, plastering a smile on your face. Within seconds, you smoothed down your robes and gathered the few textbooks you checked out. “Thank you so much, Madam Pince. I appreciate all your help!”
Without waiting for the librarian’s reply, you scurried out of the library, heading toward the Gryffindor Tower. As you approach the Fat Lady’s portrait, you saw a pair of boys pass by, the portrait swinging open.
“Remus! Peter!” you called, following them into the Gryffindor common room. They looked at you, then glanced back at each other with curious expressions. “You guys are friends with Sirius, correct?”
“Sadly, yes.” You shot Remus a glare as a playful grin spread across his face.
“Anyway,” you said pointedly, “do you mind telling me which dormitory is his? I need to talk to him.”
“We were just about to head up.” Peter nodded toward the stairs. “You can tag along.”
Remus gestured at the pile of textbooks in your hands. “Planning a study date, are you?”
You scoffed at the audacity of his idea. “Oh, please. You and I both know that studying with a jelly slug would be more beneficial.”
Remus laughed in response and you followed them both into the boys’ dormitories. Out of all the guys in Black’s little group, you found Remus Lupin to be the most bearable.
As you approached Sirius’ dormitory, you crinkled your nose, waiting for an unpleasant odor to hit you by surprise. To your luck, however, all seemed normal. But right as you placed a hand on the doorknob, it swung inward, leaving you to grasp nothing but air.
A permanently disheveled-looking James Potter came out of the room. His eyes glazed over you once he saw Remus and Peter.
“Wormtail,” James greeted, a jaunty grin on his face, “Moony. There you guys are!” His eyes fell on you. He looked you up and down, taking in the impatient tapping of your foot and the cautious tilt of your head. “And there’s a girl…”
“Y/N,” Remus coughed.
“Y/N!” James repeated, as if he knew your name all along, then paused. His eyebrows furrowed slightly before his eyes widened. “As in Y/N Y/L/N?”
You nodded. James smiled, a mischievous glint in his eye. Nothing good could possibly come out of that smile. “That’s me.”
James hummed. “Sirius’ Y/N, huh?”
“Excuse me? I’m no one’s anything.”
Behind you, you saw Remus shake his head as Peter grinned along.
“Of course you’re not,” Peter agreed, before focusing on James. “But did you know she’s here to see Padfoot?”
“Y/N is here to see Padfoot?” James all but hooted. He poked his head back in the dormitory. “Pads–you hear that? Your lady friend wants to see you.”
“Get stuffed, Potter,” you grumbled, attempting to hit him on the head with a copy of Encyclopedia of Toadstools. “And Sirius and I are hardly friends.”
The three boys looked at each other before exchanging nods and turning back to you. You knew nothing good could come out of those smiles on their faces.
“Well, Sirius is in the room if you need him,” said James. “We’ve got to go, but if you’re looking to form a harem, just yell and I’ll–”
Remus elbowed him in the side, shutting him up. “Don’t listen to him, Y/N, he’s an idiot.” James rubbed his side, sending Remus a crooked grin. “We’ll just be going now.”
You nodded, your lips pursed in confusion. You didn’t press for any questions, however, figuring you would only be left more perplexed. Spinning around, you entered the Marauders’ dormitory, looking for Sirius.
Soon enough, you found him on his bed, twirling his wand around his fingers as a Confronting the Faceless textbook was propped in front of him. You’ve never seen him look this relaxed.
You cleared your throat and dropped the stack of books at the foot of his bed. As his eyes met yours, he stopped playing with his wand and you folded your arms.
“Sirius Black,” you started, ready to scold him for not returning Magical Water Plants. “Are you aware of how long I’ve been waiting to get my hands on the only copy we have of Hadrian Whittle’s work?”
Sirius kicked his feet back and crossed his arms, mimicking your expression. “No. But I have the feeling you’re about to tell me.”
“I’ve been waiting for over two weeks.” You glared at him for mocking you. “And do you know how many weeks the book you checked out is overdue?”
“I don’t know, actually–”
He didn’t bothering trying to keep the amused expression off his face. His grin, of course, only made you angrier.
“Don’t you dare laugh,” you threatened. “I’m already failing Herbology–only Merlin knows how I managed to moved onto the N.E.W.T. levels–and now the final essay is due in two days and I haven’t even started.”
Sirius quirked an eyebrow at you, sighing as he finally stood his arse off the bed. “Let me get this straight. You tracked me down just to yell at me?”
“I tracked you down to get the bloody book!” You pinched the bridge of your nose. “And I would very much appreciate you handing it over right about now.”
Shrugging, he walked over to the side of his bed, digging around to find the book. When he handed it over to you, you noticed a water stain and a torn cover. When Sirius saw your disdainful look, he sent you an innocent grin. “It was like that when I got it.”
Rolling your eyes, you gathered up all your textbooks and headed out of his dormitory. “Right. Well, thank you for finally returning it,” you called behind your back, trying not to sound sarcastic.
Before you made it to the door, however, you felt a hand grasp your forearm. “If you’re going to use that book to write Sprout’s essay, don’t bother. It’s absolutely useless.”
“What do you suppose I do then?” You whirled around to look at him.
Sirius took the books from your arms, carrying them for you despite your sounds of protest. “As common knowledge shows, you are shitty at Herbology whilst I am not.”
“By yourself–and with this banal collection of textbooks–you would barely pass the essay.” He cocked his head to the side when you opened your mouth. However, you knew you couldn’t argue with that. “But with my help, I guarantee you’ll get an A.”
You scoffed. You wished that Sirius weren’t right, but his top grades, and your below average ones, proved otherwise. “You want to help me write an essay on some plants?”
“I’m all for helping a damsel in distress.” He paused, walking you out of the Gryffindor common room. “Just one small thing.”
“I should’ve known there was a catch.”
Sirius ignored your comment. “In exchange, you have to go on a date with me this Saturday.”
Once you reached the bottom of the tower, you took your textbooks from his hands. Did Sirius genuinely want to go on a date with you? You tried not to take it too close to heart, but it wasn’t everyday one of the most pined after guys of your year asked you out.
Still, you were skeptical.
“If we get an A on my Herbology essay, then maybe you’ll get that date.”
“We better start researching, then.” He ran his fingers through his hair, his hand momentarily covering his face. When Sirius turned to look back at you, you could have sworn you saw traces of red on his cheeks.
And that alone was enough incentive for you to want to get a good mark.
What even was this? I don’t know. Sucky, I’d say.
As of now, I’m sick of all this loveydovey crap. So my next imagine will either have infidelity…or death. Whichever I’m in the mood for.
“the most important conversations you’ll
have are with your fingers” -rupi kaur
Let’s talk about the intimacy and
what Shawn and Y/N’s fingers have gone through.
How they first touched each other
when Shawn was walking into a café in front of Y/N and realised she was behind
him so both of them grabbed for the closing door.
How they both waved at each other
when they met again at a mutual friend’s party, realising they have bumped into
each other previously.
How they high-fived when they had
won beer pong when they had been put together in the same team.
How their hands were gross from
cleaning up all the trash at the party, being the only two who weren’t passed
out on couches.
How they typed on their phone
screen after the party, not being able to stop talking to each other.
How they would casually bump into
each other during their first date as they walked alongside the beach.
How Y/N’s cupped Shawn’s face
during their first kiss.
How Shawn’s went directly in her
hair and on her back.
How they eventually ended up
tangling themselves together as the couple began to grow more serious and held
How Shawn’s would go through Y/N’s
hair each time they lay together, before going to sleep, or when they were
How Y/N’s would knead all of Shawn’s
tense muscles from all the pre-concert stress.
How Shawn’s would tap her knee
softly in encouragement when she was nervous.
How Shawn’s would engulf Y/N’s cold
ones on their countless night-time picnics.
How they held each other during
their first time. How Shawn’s traced every single bit of Y/N’s body, wanting to
feel all of her and discover all of her. How Y/N’s went to squeeze his hair
when his were working wonders on her. How Shawn’s gripped the side of the bed
in pleasure when Y/N was making love to him with her mouth.
How Shawn’s would occasionally cheekily
slide up Y/N’s leg during dinnertimes with the parents.
How Y/N’s would grab onto anything
she could of him when they hugged.
How Shawn’s would softly rub Y/N’s
stomach every month to alleviate some of her pain.
How Shawn’s would grip his
microphone a little tighter singing on stage as the piercing memory of Y/N back
at home and away from him lingered in his mind.
How Y/N’s would hold a picture of
him close to her during their times apart.
How Shawn’s would tingle with
excitement as he opened a cab door outside the airport, knowing he would be
going home to Y/N in less than an hour time.
How Y/N’s would clutch her lungs as
she tried to breathe during their first fight.
How Shawn’s waving all over the
place as he tried to explain his part of the fight.
How they held each other tightly
when the fight resolved.
How Shawn’s thumb would slightly
tap Y/N’s palm when they held hands in public, a signal that they were both
thinking of the same thing but couldn’t say it out loud so just grinned
internally at all their inside jokes.
How Shawn’s were full of sweat when
he made sure the small box was in his pocket.
How Y/N’s jumped up to her mouth as
Shawn got down on one knee.
How Y/N’s fourth finger looked as
Shawn slid a bright ring onto it.
How Shawn’s always went around Y/N’s
shoulder when they discussed wedding preparations.
How Y/N’s clammy fingers played
with the white fabric of her dress right before she walked down the aisle.
How Shawn’s immediately relaxed
when he took hers and lead her to the top of the altar.
How both of theirs went up to wipe
each other’s tears after having kissed as bride and groom.
How they stayed interlaced as they
danced across the floor to John Mayer and Ed Sheeran as their friends and families
were smiling, and chatting, and helping themselves to wedding cake.
How both of their fingers were red
from moving boxes back and forth to their new house.
How Y/N’s were filled with dirt as
she planted roses in the front and back yard.
How Shawn’s clutched the pregnancy
test to his chest after examining the result twice to make sure he wasn’t
How Y/N’s would grip onto Shawn’s
tightly when her stomach grew huge and going up the stairs was cardio to her.
How Shawn’s never ceased to rub Y/N’s
shoulder as they made their way into the emergency room.
How Y/N’s tried to crush all the
bones in Shawn’s hand as she was giving birth to their child.
How Shawn’s grew feather soft when
he first received their baby in his arms and gave the most minuscule tickle on
How Y/N’s relaxed into the hospital
blankets as Shawn’s took a piece of her sweaty hair out of her eyes.
How each of theirs spent numerous
times changing their kid’s diapers.
How Shawn’s would expertly open up
countless jars of baby food.
How Y/N’s would rub the top of
their baby’s head soothingly to get it to stop crying in her arms.
How one of theirs hands were
interlaced and the other was softly touching their sleeping baby’s finger.
How all of this repeated itself
when they had another baby.
How Shawn’s heart welled up when
his toddler ran beside him to the playground, their whole hand wrapped around
one of Shawn’s fingers.
How Y/N’s would slam the table as
their adolescent was acting out again.
How Shawn would instantly massage
her tense shoulders as they talked it out with their hormone-filled child.
How Y/N’s wiped her tears off her
face when their kid graduated high school.
How Shawn’s wiped his tears off his
face when their kid graduated university.
How Shawn’s would be holding his daughter’s
as he walked her down the aisle to give her away.
How Y/N’s would run across her son’s
hair when he moved across the country.
How Y/N’s and Shawn’s slowly became
wrinklier but still as soft to the touch to each other as fourty years ago.
How one of their hands held the
other’s while the other one held a photograph of time ago.
How Y/N would still hold the Shawn’s
cheek when they kissed.
How Shawn’s would be dusting all
the furniture during each holiday for their children and grandchildren came to
How they spent the last of their
days sitting on their porch gazing afar but still interlaced.
How Shawn’s held Y/N’s as she lay
on the hospital bed at age ninety.
How they simply held hands, Y/N
unable to speak with the air mask on her face.
How their fingers spoke for them,
each little second of holding each other bringing back the memories of their
life. How they said they wouldn’t have spent their lives anyway else and
thanked each other for the years of love and companionship.
How Shawn kissed Y/N’s goodbye when
How the nurse put both of theirs
together when Shawn joined Y/N in her slumber.
warnings: lowkey sub!seb, oral (f/m recieving), me ruining another weeknd song, a little bit more of shy!seb bc yes that needs to be a warning, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it, people!), needy!seb
note: song mentioned is often by the weeknd. you all asked for part two so here it is! hopefully this lives up to expectations! I DIDN’T KNOW HOW TO END THIS SO I APOLGIZE FOR THAT
“Why does Scott insist that playing hide and seek in the middle of the pitch black woods is going to bring us closer together as a pack?” Y/N sighed, annoyed as she pulled her thin jacket closer around her shoulders.
“Quite complaining.” Stiles shushed her, bringing a finger to his lips. “You’re only upset because you’re stuck with me.” He smirked.
They had never been anything more than acquaintances. She was friends with Lydia, automatically making her friends with Scott and in turn, Stiles.
“It could’ve been worse.” He offered his hand to her, helping her over the large tree trunk that had fallen over blocking their path. “You could have been stuck with Liam.”
She smiled as she reached for his hands.
gets a series of texts from Jack just minutes before their shared class is due
to start. Bitty is alarmed for several reasons—Jack’s preference for sending
single texts, and the fact that Jack is normally in class before Bitty at the
top of the list.
Jack 9:56 Are there seats in the back row?
Jack 9:57Can you move to the back row
and save me one
Jack 9:57Near the door on the east
sure what’s going on, but he gathers his stuff quickly, dumping it into his
bag, and heads to the back row near the specified door, trying to type as he
moved. Got a seat for you. Everything okay?
Jack 9:59Is anyone near you?
people further down the row, and about five rows in front. Teacher just walked
in and is setting up.
looks around to the door, holding his phone in case it buzzes again with a
message from Jack.
teacher calls the class to attention and there’s still no sign of Jack. It’s
not like him to miss class. Bitty wants to go out and find him to see what’s
going on, but he can’t now that the teacher has seen him. He gets out his books
and pen again, and focuses to the front, keeping his phone visible on the desk
just in case.
an ear out for the door, and just as Professor Miao begins her lecture, he
hears it opening. It’s almost like Jack was waiting until he knew she’d
sticks his head through the gap and looks around nervously. He meets eyes with
Bitty, who raises eyebrows at him, trying to get some clue as to what Jack’s
been texting him for. As Jack pushes the door open slowly, and hurries quietly
in, practically tiptoeing over to the seat Bitty has saved for him, Bitty
thinks he knows what Jack’s been worried about.
summary:soulmate au in which whatever your soulmate feels you feel too. you decided you weren’t ready for a relationship, leading tom to get slightly carried away when he finds out you’re on a date.
word count: 1.7k
author’s note: thank you, thank you, thank you from the bottom of my heart if you took the time to read this.
Tom was getting annoyed.
It was his day off from shooting and he’d been lounging on the couch all day with his best mate, Harrison. The TV was playing one of his favorite shows; one that he had watched a good four times from start to finish and nonetheless enjoyed each time. It was his favorite, but he couldn’t revel in it the way he wanted too with his best friend laughing every few minutes at his phone.
Tom tried to ignore it, he really did. He never considered himself a patient person; Harrison didn’t either, which only fueled him to try, but as another chuckle left Harrison’s mouth, he couldn’t help but say,
“Mate, could you shut up?” he groaned. “I’m trying to watch this.”
“You’ve seen this show like ten times”
“Your point being?” he raised his eyebrows, turning up the volume of the TV. “Today’s my only day off and you could be a little more considerate- and woah.”
His stomach churned. It was quick and unsettling. Sometimes he’d feel so excited that it’d do the same, but that was a different; he knew that feeling and he knew this wasn’t it. He felt nervous, his hands began sweating and as he sat up to look at Harrison, his stomach churned again.
“What the he-”
“It’s Y/N” he cut Harrison off. “It’s Y/N, Haz. She’s nervous. She’s nervous, oh God w-why would she be nervous?”
Summary: Childhood friends turned arranged marriage. You’ve always had feelings for Namjoon, but he’s never once looked your way.
Pairing: Namjoon x Reader
Genre: Arranged marriage, smut
Creative direction: Moxie
“Anything interesting planned today?” You ask him.
Namjoon is sitting at the other end of the table, newspaper in hand. He adjusts the papers and cocks his brow at you. “The usual.” He replies curtly.
He was always like this. Namjoon didn’t see you as anything but a business arrangement, a merger of two companies. You had been married for four months now. The first month was a big adjustment for you. By the third month you had gotten used to the separate lives you led. The shell of a house that you shared was in no way a home. You had made a point of having breakfast with each other, but everything else was so disconnected.
He did things because they were strategic, in his best interests. Accepting an arranged marriage with you was a good thing for him. It kept his father off his back and allowed him to monopolise your father’s company. Your father had always liked him, ever since you were kids.
(All of this is from this book that I made a post about. Authors: Raven Kaldera & Tannin Schwartzstein. This is from chapter 4, Internal Hygiene: how to not get ugly)
The problem with smudging is that it always involves smoke. People with asthma or sensitive fire alarms may want to use a different method. The nest most common purification method is baths. You will need a bathtub for most of them, although we will include shower formulas for those of you with only shower stalls.
Soothing, calming, and brightening for depressed days. Also good for getting one in a romantic mood, not just before the a date but when the magic is going out of a long-term relationship due to stress and exhaustion. You can either use floral oils such as jasmine, rose, lavender, or apple blossom, or use live flower petals. For the destitute, check dumpsters behind florist shops and pull the petals off the discarded or bruised flowers. You will need at least two cups of flower petals. If you’re worried about clogging the drain, put them in a bag (even an old t-shirt with the holes knotted shut will do) and float them in the water. If you like them floating around on the water, put a piece of fabric over the drain when you let the water out.
Cook the herbs into a strong tea on the stove and pour them into the water. Simmer, do not boil. Suggested herbs include sage, rosemary, thyme, tarragon for courage, ground sandalwood for sensuality, bay leaf for warrior energy, or mint and eucalyptus to promote physical health. Resins will not break down when boiled. If you want to use a resin, you must add the essential oil or absolute (resin tincture).
For this, you need to brew up one to three gallons of a strong tea. Take your shower first, like you normally do, and then at whatever temperature you can tolerate, dump the pots of water over your body. These teas can be boiled and set aside in gallon plastic jugs for when you want them – in the hot summer, you may want to dump them over you cold. Don’t keep them for more than a week and check them frequently for nasty, green floating things or bad smells.
Yes, baths can be done in an apartment, if you have big pots and a stove. Fill all your large pots with boiling water and add herbs or oils. Fill the tub half full with the hottest water you can get from the tap and place a chair in the tub. (If you use a metal chair, rest your hand on it before sitting down to test the temperature. If it I wooden, make sure you have a place for it to dry out afterwards. Avoid padded chairs as they will absorb moisture and get mildew.) Then, pour the boiling water and sit on the chair, being careful not to touch the water. Relax in steam until water cools.
The White Bath
Famous in Afro-Caribbean traditions. It is associated with this Orisha (deity) Obatala, who represents justice, compassion and healing. The most common ingredient in a white bath is coconut milk, usually canned, since if you use real coconuts, you’ll have to split a lot of them. Other suggestions are baking soda, or sugar, or a few drops of vanilla extract, or powdered milk. Powdered moo-juice will last forever and may be carried with you anywhere. You can combine any or all of these, but no more than two cups of material per tubful. For dissolving purposes, make sure the water is pretty hot. Soak for as long as you need and then rinse off with the shower. Lighting white candles around the tub is also good, as is coconut incense.
Although you will want to rinse off at some point, we recommend that you wait at least twenty minutes before rinsing, in order to let the energy of each bath soak into your skin as you get up and move about. It’s traditional, though not necessary, to wear only white for the first few hours afterwards. (A really big t-shirt works well.) If you hate white, you don’t have to wear it, but please, whatever you put on should be clean and freshly laundered, and also have clean towels ready to dry off with.
I’m really not sure about the ending but I didn’t want to keep you waiting any longer! Thank you for reading and for being so excited about me writing again after months of nothing- it means the whole world and more (also thank you if you’ve even bothered to read this boring, sappy note).
Enjoy my lovelies and let me know your thoughts, I’m quite proud of the most part of this xx
A;N: I want to formally apologise that it has been so long. Y’all have been so patient and I love you guys! Anyways, this is for the wonderful @sarcasticallystilinski and @rememberstilinski ‘s Lacrosse Week! I hope y’all are ready. xoxo
One of the worst things that ever crossed path between two people is disagreement. And it becomes even more delirious when those two people are lovers. People say no couple is perfect. Fights happen and the ones that prove to be not of any worth lose and you still get your happily ever after. Some fights are childish, you don’t need to run away like a kid and cry into your mommy’s lap because some things had been unfair to you. Some fights don’t let you sleep, they end up in tears. Some fights end up in one of you leaving to find solace somewhere else, when all the comfort you can have is with that one person who has your heart.
You hated fighting and you hated the outcome of it. You knew nothing would change, but one fight speaks a thousand words that neither of you two meant. But somehow, they hurt because you said them and now you cannot take them back. All you can do is sit alone and mope around.