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tiredwitchplant · 8 months

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How to Use Herbs : Rosemary

Hwello there. We have talked about rosemary and its uses in a previous post. If you haven't read it, please click here: Rosemary

Now I shall provide some spells, tonics, recipes and etc on where you can utilize it. Let us begin :)

Author's Note: From I noticed a part is usually a teaspoon. You can add more according to your needs, but I would always start with that measurement first.

Alchemist Formula for Binding:

One part benzoin gum (Saturn, binding)

One part patchouli (Saturn,binding)

One part Solomon's seal (Saturn, protective)

One part rosemary oil (Saturn, protective)

One part frankincense oil (Sun, success)

Mental Focus Magical Tea:

I part rosemary

1/2 part spearmint

1 cup of boiling water

Mix herbs in a small jar

To brew, pour 1 cup of boiling water over 1 teaspoon of the herbal blend.

Steep for 5 - 7 minute. Strain and drink.

Spells:

Remembrance for Lost Love (Heartache Healer)

6 drops of rosemary oil

3 drops of peppermint oil

1 drop of lavender oil

White candle

Add the oil to the top of the candle, one at a time, in a clockwise direction around the wick.

LIght the candle and gaze into the flame

Visualize your fond memories of the person who left your life. As you do this say, "I thank you for the time we had together, I thank you for the love we shared, I thank you for being an important part of my life. We have parted, we move on, we remember. I wish you the best life has to offer and hope you have found happiness."

Allow the candle to burn out of its own and dispose of the remaining wax away from your home or bury it in the spot you and the past partner enjoyed together.

Broom Cleansing Spell

Use one or any combination of the following botanicals: broom, cedar,fennel, hyssop, rosemary, sage, vervain.

Arrange the botanicals and tie them to the bottom of a branch withraffia, visualizing, charging and knotting. (Any branch may be used,however an ash branch is considered particularly powerful.)

Sprinkle with salted water or any preferred purification formula.

Sweep the area.

Disassemble the broom outside, away from the cleansed space.

Bury the components in the ground or toss them into living waters, flowing away from you.

Ghost Keep Away Spell (Boundary Line Spell)

Place three peeled cloves of garlic in a bowl, together with one handful of sea salt and one handful of fresh rosemary leaves.

Grind and mash the ingredients together.

Sprinkle them to create a boundary, as needed.

Bad Habits Bath

Add the following to a tub filled with warm water:

Essential oil of clary sage

Essential oil of frankincense

Essential oil of lavender

Essential oil of lemongrass or May Chang

Essential oil of rosemary

Enter the bath and inhale the fragrance, and accompany with affirmations and positive visualizations.

Kitchen Witch Recipes:

Super-Quick Bonus Recipe for Gwion’s Red Onion Pickle Bliss

Fills one pint-sized jar

Prep Time: 10 minutes

Cooking Time: 20 minutes, plus 30 minutes to cool in the fridge

1 medium red onion

3 tablespoons sugar

1/2 cup water

10 black peppercorns

2/3 cup white wine vinegar,

rice vinegar, or apple cider vinegar

1/4 teaspoon red pepper flakes

1 sprig rosemary

1 clove garlic, peeled and halved

Slice the onion very thinly and place it in your clean, dry jar. Set it aside.

Add the rest of the ingredients to a medium saucepan and bring to a boil until the sugar has fully dissolved. Stir carefully so you don’t break the rosemary. The sprig is in there to add flavour, and you’ll discard it before the next step.

Let the pickling mixture (the water, vinegar, and spices) cool down for about 10 minutes. Discard the sprig of rosemary and pour the remaining

ingredients into the jar of onions. Make sure all of the onions are submerged

in the picking liquid. If you have to, use a spoon to push the onions down in the jar. Seal the jar and put it in the fridge to cool. The onions are ready to eat once they are cool, about 30 minutes.

Serve them on avocado toast, burgers, salads, or just with a fork straight out of the jar. Remember to kiss your partner or partners before eating the onions out of the jar, unless they’re into pungent kisses.

Goat for a God: Roasted Goat Leg with Grape Molasses

Great for Deities: Dionysus, Pan and Thor

Serves : 6

Prep Time: 30 minutes

Cooking Time: 2 hours and 30 minutes

1 goat leg (about 3 pounds)

1/4 cup + 1 tablespoon olive oil

2 teaspoons salt

1 teaspoon cumin

2 teaspoons black pepper

4 tablespoons grape molasses

2 cloves garlic, minced

1 teaspoon coriander

2 sprigs fresh rosemary

1 cup white wine + one glass for sipping and toasting while cooking (use mead if you're cooking this for Thor)

1 bay leaf

2 large carrots, chopped into

1" chunks

1 celery root, peeled and chopped into 1" cubes

Open the bottle of white wine or mead and take a hefty drink. (This is optional but deities do like when you drink with them but they can respect if you don't partake.)

Preheat the oven to 375° F.

Liberally season the goat leg with salt and pepper.

Rub the minced garlic all over the goat leg too. If it helps, poke a few holes in the goat leg so you can get the garlic right into the meat.

Place the rosemary sprigs and bay leaf in the bottom of a large roasting pan and put the goat leg right on top. Add the carrots and celery root around the edges. Pour the olive oil all over the goat and rub it around. Coat the carrots and celery root too.

Pour the white wine around the bottom of the roasting pan.

Loosely cover with kitchen foil and put the whole pan into the oven for 2 hours.

About an hour and forty-five minutes into the cooking process, it’s time to make the glaze.

Mix the grape molasses—which is a super-condensed syrup made of grape must—in a bowl with a tablespoon of olive oil, the coriander, and the cumin. You can substitute honey for the grape molasses if for Thor.

At the two-hour mark, pull the roasting pan out of the oven and paint the goat with the grape (or honey) and spice glaze.

Pop the goat and veggies, uncovered, back into the oven for another 20 minutes or until the internal temperature reaches at least 145° F.

When you’re ready to serve this dish, scoop the veggies into a bowl (fornow) and put the goat leg on a platter. If you have access to one, get a cedar plank and serve the goat on it.

Medical Tonics and Infusions:

Infusion- An infusion is the simplest way to prepare the more delicate aerial parts of plants, especially leaves and flowers, for use as a medicine or as a revitalizing or relaxing drink. It is made in a similar way to tea, using either a single herb or a combination of herbs, and may be drunk hot or cold.

Pot Infusion

For a cup:

1 tsp (2–3 g) dried or 2 tsp (4–6 g) fresh herb (or mixture of herbs) to a cup of water

For a pot:

20 g dried herb or 30 g fresh herb (or a mixture of different herbs) to 2 cups (500 ml) of water

Warm the pot, then add the herb.

Pour in water that has just boiled, replace the lid, and infuse for 10 minutes.

Strain some of the infusion into a cup. A teaspoon of honey may be added if desired.

Storage:

Store in a covered jug in a refrigerator or cool place for up to 24 hours.

Tonic Making

Standard Quantity:

200 g dried or 300 g fresh herb chopped into small pieces to 1 quart (1 liter) alcohol—vodka of 35–40% alcohol is ideal, although rum hides the taste of bitter or unpalatable herbs

Standard Dosage:

Take 1 tsp (5 ml) 2 –3 times a day diluted in 1 tbsp plus 1 tsp (25 ml) of water or fruit juice.

Place the herb in a large, clean glass jar and pour on the alcohol, ensuring that the herb is covered. Close and label the jar.

Shake well for 1–2 minutes and store in a cool dark place for 10–14 days, shaking the jar every 1–2 days.

Set up the wine press, placing a muslin or nylon mesh bag securely inside. Pour in the mixture and collect the liquid in the jug.

Slowly close the wine press, extracting the remaining liquid from the herbs until no more drips appear. Discard the leftover herbs.

Pour the tincture into clean, dark glass bottles using a funnel. When full, stopper with a cork or screw top and label the bottles.

Storage:

Store in sterilized, dark glass bottles in a cool dark place for up to 2 years. An amber glass jar is the best option.

Sorry this post is so long @_@ But please enjoy and use wisely. Bye byes~

Sources

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steelycunt · 7 months

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got THREE NEW PLANTS for my room today. all for the SWEET SWEET PRICE of £6.50. thats cheaper than TWO COFFEES. and i dont even DRINK COFFEE. so on EVERY LEVEL im WINNING.

#the uni su fair had a little stall selling plants w/ student discount...i bought two and then because i spent over £5 i got to spin a little #wheel to win a prize and i won another little plant im so happy with them who would like to see (tumbleweed. crickets. dead air)...fair #was FUN got loads of free stuff drank many a free sample of tonic wine at 11am in the morning...thinking of joining somestuff too i wanna #try writing for the uni magazine and maybe join the subject netball team although im a bit intimidated you get some people who do NAWT #play when it comes to netball. ironically. and also unless i can play centre/wa i fear im pretty much useless...ALSO thinking of trying the #jive class which sounds silly but how fun would it be to know how to jive. like thats so fun. and my friend is trying tango class i think..#we'll see!! also went 2 ikea with my best friend got snacks and now im back home : ^ ) happy friday!!!#(ridi's) bigmouth strikes again

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magicianrabbidsupremacy · 3 months

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AMV - The Devil's Got A Little List

youtube

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thoughts-stuck-somewhere · 8 months

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Yesterday I was talking with a friend of mine about what to write in a dating app bio and the only things I could come up with were:

I love studying (knowing more and more make me feel better than anything you'll do, potential lover), I love a good conversation (but if you'll know more than me then, believe me, I would do research just to beat you), I love reading (mainly morbid, strangely creepy yet beautiful books I will end up relating to, somehow, despite my dull life), I love playing cards (and I am way too competitive about it), I love gin and tonic (nothing to say about that) and plants (back with things to say because I can never keep them alive, beware, I am a murderer in my own right).

#creative writing #writing #chaotic academia #chaotic thoughts #darkest academia #dark academia #green academia #plants #dating #dating apps #cards #gin and tonic

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dndtreasury · 1 year

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Djinn & Tonic

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thestraggletag · 1 year

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Took five years growing from seed but my jacarandá finally fucking bloomed.

#next is lemons from that lemom tree i planted as a seed from a gin and tonic craving three years ago

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sunderwight · 3 months

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Shang Qinghua strikes me as the type who would only pursue a particular cultivation skill if it had some utility to making his everyday life easier or some specific task more doable, not even register that he'd achieved anything impressive with his cultivation in the process, and then carry on firm in the belief that this is a normal skill that every other cultivator has probably already acquired. Because if it's useful, why wouldn't they?

Like he thinks cultivation is cool and all, but (as can be evidenced by some of his writing choices) he's not really interested in it for its own sake. So everything he chooses to pursue has a reason. Usually that reason is "letting him be done with this tedious task so that he can possibly scrape together some free time, or at least more time to do other tasks."

This is why, despite sword arts being very cool and dashing and all, Shang Qinghua doesn't really bother learning a lot of swordsmanship or fighting skills. There are pretty few situations where wielding a sword is useful, most of those situations are ones which Shang Qinghua doesn't want to be involved in, and nearly all of his martial siblings are better at and more interested in fighting anyway.

He knows that martial prowess is popular and attractive, but it's boring. Sword drills? Dull as hell. There's a reason he came up with a super cursed sword that let his protagonist immediately win almost any fight, with consequences that just led to more interesting drama or conflicts to write about. His fight scenes were at least as boring and repetitive as his sex scenes, let's be real.

The end result is that Shang Qinghua's cultivation is probably deeply weird.

Like he's done muscle-reinforcement but not for combat, it's so that if he needs to he can literally pick up a recalcitrant ox and move it. He mastered inedia because remembering to eat and finding a moment to do it during An Ding's inventory week was harder. He introduced flying carpets to the setting after he transmigrated because figuring out how to transport items on some compatible spiritual device that was bigger than a sword blade, and could thus hold like a chest of goods or baskets of supplies, was way too convenient to pass up. He has selective knowledge of various skills, like alchemy, medicine, smithing, etc, things that are usually only brought up at the master level (thanks to his author knowledge cheat) but he doesn't know most of the basics of those skills, and he only deploys his knowledge for like, hyper specific tasks largely unrelated to the field.

He probably drives Mu Qingfang and Wei Qingwei crazy because he'll drop expert niche knowledge that they know is expert niche knowledge into a random discussion out of the blue, but then can't actually sustain a conversation about it because he doesn't know all the usual accompanying information. Mu Qingfang counting slowly backwards from ten because somehow Shang Qinghua knows that a super rare tonic made from a believed-to-be-extinct plant can bestow temporarily telekinesis to those who imbibe it, but doesn't know anything else about the medicinal uses of the plant, the history of the tonic, or other tonics that can achieve similar results with varying side-effects. But he knows what this one hyper-specific thing will do and he knows, very very vaguely, how to make it. Somehow.

Which would be less weird if it was just one thing, because people do pick up odd bits of knowledge or skills from unexpected places now and again. But it happens all the time. Seemingly at complete random! He also, as said, doesn't just do it with knowledge but with skills. No idea of basic leveling up, Shang Qinghua singles out what he wants from a process and then just does enough to get it and skips everything else that usually goes with it.

I bet he's like thirty before it comes to light that he has no idea how to actually do basic meditation, or something, and Yue Qingyuan does that thing where he smiles placidly while dying inside because how? Shang-shidi is a peak lord! How does a peak lord not know how to meditate properly?!

(In Shang Qinghua's defense, meditating involves spending a lot of time just focusing on one's self and not doing anything else, and he is a busy man! And he actually has mastered a form of meditation, but it's a kind Cang Qiong doesn't usually teach and that you do while also performing repetitive tasks. Usually those repetitive tasks are things like "repeatedly punching the exact same spot on a tree until the tree topples" but Shang Qinghua's are more like "reviewing a thousand nearly identical requisition forms and eating melon seeds at a steady rate" type stuff. When other people expect him to meditate he just sits quietly for a minute until they leave.)

#svsss #shang qinghua #airplane shooting towards the sky #scum villain's self saving system #scum villain

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pseudowho · 5 months

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Ditch the Party

Nanami Kento hates parties; but the drinks? They make him...bold.

Warnings: 18+, MDNI, Nanami Kento is a horny drunk, just regular old smut here

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"Just...promise me you'll behave tonight," you beseeched Kento as you pressed your earrings into place. You saw Kento lean back into the bathroom on his way out, bristling, indignant. Your nose twitched in amusement as he caught your eye in the mirror, looking stern.

"I don't know what you mean," he replied stiffly. You scoffed.

"You absolutely do," you countered, turning, your hand on his chest. Looking him up and down, in a slim black suit and burgundy shirt, tie-less, you felt outdone.

As you leaned back on the bathroom counter, Kento's eyes had a naughty twinkle as he leaned down towards you. Your eyes narrowed with a smile of warning, and you pressed one finger to his lips. Tapping his nose as he opened his mouth to bite your finger, you reminded him.

"Come on, big guy. We'll be late. The taxi guy's probably sick of waiting for us." You slithered past Kento, feeling his fingers brush your waist for the barest of moments, as you gripped his hand and pulled him towards the door.

In the taxi, Kento gazed at the city lights, considering his life choices; "Why are we going to a party this evening? We don't even like parties." You laughed, reapplying your lipstick in a mirror.

"We don't, it's true. But it's a big birthday for my uncle, and we promised," you wheedled. Kento grunted his disapproval beside you. Your eyes narrowed at him again; "And, it's a family friendly event, so..."

Kento looked at you again, innocent but challenging. He let your statement hang; this time, it was you who was bristling, indignant.

The party had already begun by the time you arrived; held at your aunt and uncle's home, a warm orange glow and thrum of conversation spilled out from the kitchen to the garden, deep green hedges flickering with torchlights and tiny twinkling fairy lights. The music was low, the conversation easy and audible above it. A barbeque puffed out woody smoke. Drinks were flowing freely. You sighed as you approached, relieved.

"See? It's the good kind of party," you pressed, squeezing Kento's hand reassuringly. He sighed, unable to argue with you, reassuring you with a gentle smile that you didn't need to babysit him all evening for fear of him having a dreadful time in the company of others.

While Kento headed in to fetch drinks, you greeted family and friends. Kento returned soon after, with a large gin and tonic for you, and a larger whiskey for him. He slipped an arm firmly round your waist, pulling you flush to him as he planted a kiss to your forehead.

The night wore on, the conversation lubricated by alcohol, and small, tipsy groups milled around the garden fires. As food was served, an elderly aunt approached, and asked Kento how he was enjoying the meal.

"It's delicious, thank you," he replied low and smooth before leaning into your ear, whispering, "it almost tastes as good as yo--"

"I'm sorry, dear?" Kento leaned up, all smiles to your elderly aunt, as you blushed from your ears to your toes.

"I said, it tastes almost as good as your cooking, auntie," he lied and she chirped, flattered, patting him on the arm with a smile. Your auntie headed away, and you spun to Kento with a look of warning. He completely ignored you, honeyed eyes glowing in the firelight.

Eyes narrowing at him, you headed over to the table to fetch Kento a glass of water, and almost immediately felt him cage you against the table from behind, his sculpted shoulders leaning past you to rest on his knuckles on the tablecloth. You felt his warm, whiskey breath against your neck.

"We could always bend you over this table," he murmured, as you felt a throb of lust in your belly, "and see how hard we could make it shake." As you spun, still caged by Kento's arms, a family friend approached just beside you and offered you and Kento an uncertain smile. Kento plucked your hair clip off the table from behind you, holding it up with a cunning smile.

"There it is, darling," he said warmly, the family friend now less uncertain, "I told you we'd find it." The family friend left, and you hissed up at him.

"Kento. Behave." He fixed you with a look of faux-innocence as he stood, finishing his whiskey.

"I don't know what you're talking about," he said, smiling at your uncle, wishing him a happy birthday as he passed, and then leaned over you again, pulling you close to his chest as he rumbled, eyes hooded and glinting, "but then, you never do make much sense when I'm fucking you until you can't see straight."

You groaned against his chest, hand over your eyes, mortified. You heard your aunt gently asking Kento if you were alright.

"She's fine," he chuckled, "can't handle her drinks, I think." Your aunt cooed, sharing a joke with Kento, and you gaped up at Kento, who accepted another drink from your uncle, utterly shameless.

"Kento," you hissed again, "you are just a--"

"Menace?" He rumbled, ghosting his lips over yours, whispering, "I could be. Just give me a bit of time, and something to tie you up with, and--"

Your mother came over, greeting you both, and you were forced to play drunk, you were so flushed at this point, babysat by Kento as he rolled his eyes fondly at you and made small talk.

Kento slipped his hand lower and lower behind you as he talked with your mother, and you felt his long fingers trace your thigh, surreptitiously climbing upwards beneath your skirt to graze your arse, before creeping round again and you felt his fingers brush softly against your fol--

You squeaked, jumping, your drink sloshing over your toes. Kento flapped a hand above your head.

"Just a moth," he reassured you and your mother. Your mother gave your burning cheek a kiss. Kento waited just long enough for your mother to leave, before looping an arm round your waist, pulling you into the shadows, behind hedges further down the garden. You squeaked with alarm. Kento drained both of your drinks, and unceremoniously abandoned the glasses in a bush, before pulling you onto a sheltered bench by your uncle's koi carp pond.

You were thrumming with embarrassment at this point, and leapt off the bench, mortified by Kento's utter shamelessness and alcohol-loosened tongue, ready to chew him out...but...

Kento sat on the bench, legs spread wide in his tight black trousers, thick, toned arms stretched out across the back of the bench. He looked deeply into your eyes, chiselled face dramatised in the shadows. Slowly reaching a hand out, he pinched the top of your skirt, pulling you in between his spread legs, strong and determined.

"We don't like parties," he toned, low and sultry, as you were pulled into his lap, "but we do like it when you ride me until our clothes are ruined."

Kento grabbed your thighs, forcing your skirt up to your waist and parting your legs around his lap. He hesitated, changing his mind and lifting you off him briefly. With no argument, he stripped off your underwear, pressing it to his nose and breathing in with a groan and a shiver, eyes closed in ecstasy. You hissed to him again, terrified of being found, arse and pussy open to the world--

Kento pulled you back down to straddle his lap again, sinking his hand into the back of your hair and tipping your head back as he ran his tongue and teeth against your throat.

"Nobody else will be able to see that wet little pussy of yours...if it's as close as I want it." Slipping two fingers between your legs, Kento rubbed your clit in tight little circles, and you felt hard and fast pangs of pleasure through you as you trembled, gripping Kento's shoulders desperately.

"Someone will hear, Kento--" he bit your neck in warning, squeezing your arse hard as he moaned, shivering as he continued to press hard against your clit.

"Well then be quiet, my love." You mewled, muffling your face into his neck, quaking as his clever fingers dragged you to orgasm, stimulating you hard and fast until your thighs shook, and his hand was wet with your arousal.

Kento's eyes were dark and determined now, single-minded as he unzipped his trousers and pulled out his cock, solid and weeping pre-cum against his belly as he stroked it, lubricating himself with your cum. Locking his arms behind your back, he lifted you and slammed your sensitive pussy down onto himself, bottoming out immediately.

You shrieked, and Kento clapped a hand over your mouth, nipping your lips as he shot you a lustful, playful look. Hands then locked behind your hips again, he lifted you up and down with wet slaps, immediately seeing stars with the relentless pace, chasing your pussy with his hips as he bucked.

You gasped, breathless against his neck as his cock bullied into you, pliable and shaking as Kento groaned into you, unashamedly loud-- "harder," he insisted, increasing the pace with his hands clenching the fat of your hips, "harder."

His mouth pressed to yours, kisses hot and smoky with whiskey as he nipped at your bottom lip, his groans deep and guttural as he felt your pussy clench around him while you held onto his lapels, mewling, tipsy, completely fucked senseless, as promised.

Feeling the trembling of your plush walls around him (the nerves of his cock already electrified by the alcohol) had Kento reeling and he came, whimpering into your mouth as he ground your hips against his, bottomed out and warm shots of cum spurting directly against your cervix.

You both shook, tangled and sweaty, spent, while Kento chuckled and you slapped him on the chest. You heard voices approach; your uncle, excited to show someone his prized koi carp.

Kento threw you onto the bench beside him as you yanked down your skirt, and Kento zipped himself up, putting an arm around your shoulders.

Your uncle arrived, "Oh, hey kids! Enjoying my carp-- whose are those?"

Kento coughed delicately, eyeing your forgotten underwear at the side of the pond; "No idea," he said, coolly, "they were here when we arrived."

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Infiltration, Chapter 5: Breaking Point, IS coming this weekend as promised...but in the meantime

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botanictonics · 1 year

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3 Strategies for Reducing Your Alcohol Intake During the Holidays

If you recently decided to cut alcohol out of your life or you’ve been sober for years, the holidays can be fraught with challenges. Alcohol is a staple at holiday parties. It’s everywhere and there can be a lot of pressure to drink. But there are ways you can bolster your resolve. You can go to holiday parties and attend gatherings without worrying about any pressure you might feel to drink. It comes down to employing the right strategies, like relying on your favorite alcohol alternative. Of course, that’s far from the only strategy. As you get ready to head out to your next holiday gathering, here are three tips for saying goodbye to alcohol you can keep in your back pocket.

Keep an Alcohol Alternative Close By Alcohol is a holiday party staple for a reason. It tends to loosen people up. It’s a social drink that can help some folks feel happy. But it comes with plenty of downsides, too. To put the thought of alcohol out of your mind, bring an alcohol alternative to the party with you. You can bring a few for yourself or enough for the crowd. One increasingly popular alcohol alternative is kava. It’s a plant-based drink that delivers effects reminiscent of alcohol. It can help you feel loosened up and more social. And it can help you feel a sense of joy. Kava really shines when it comes to avoiding unwanted aftereffects. There are none! You don’t have to worry about feeling sick or over-inebriated—and you won’t experience a hangover the next day. You can avoid alcohol while still feeling like yourself. Keep a Drink in Your Hands When Mingling No matter the party, it’s good to keep your hands busy while you mingle and enjoy the ambiance. Kava drinks are a great option when you want to blend right into the party. When you hold a drink, like a non-alcoholic beverage, other guests are less likely to ask if you’d like another type of drink. That’s something a lot of non-drinkers get—people can’t help but ask questions. It can be uncomfortable and can potentially lead to instances of peer pressure. That’s no fun. That kind of vibe can bring a party down. But keeping a drink in hand—whether it’s kava, soda, or even water—is freeing. Know How to Say No We’ve all been to a loud party. When you don’t drink, people can be noisy, especially if they’ve had a few hard drinks. When you choose not to imbibe with an alcoholic drink, being assertive is crucial. Keep a response of, “no, thanks,” ready to go. Sure, people ask questions about why you’re not drinking, but it’s up to you whether you get into the details. Again, it simply comes down to knowing what to say, being confident in your choices, and standing your ground. On top of that, give yourself a way to pivot. If no one brings it up, start a conversation of your own, or shift the subject when you decline an offer. That’s a great way to keep the momentum of the party going without impacting anyone’s vibe—including your own! About Botanic Tonics Experience the power of ancient plants with Botanic Tonics. You want to feel good, relaxed, and unburdened. Botanic Tonics crafted their signature beverage, the Feel Free Wellness Tonic, with real, natural kava kava and blended it with other ancient plants. One sip, and it doesn’t take long until the kava brings on feelings of calm. The Feel Free kava drink can also help you find focus and enhance productivity. Looking for a safe and effective alcohol alternative for the holidays? Feel Free is the perfect euphoric drink! Botanic Tonics’ Feel Free may also help ease feelings of occasional anxiety. Kava for occasional anxiety can be an option when the day gets away from you. Ultimately, Botanic Tonics and the Feel Free Wellness Tonic are all about helping you feel good. Check out your new favorite alcohol alternative at https://botanictonics.com/ Original Source: https://bit.ly/3VCIAdo

#plant based tonic

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femmefatalevibe · 8 months

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Femme Fatale Guide: Healthy Habits To Look & Feel Your Best Without Restriction or Unrealistic Routines

Realistic ways to maintain a healthy life/body/appearance (size and weight are all personal, not the most important metric – for certain). No diet culture or delulu-land tips here.

What I've done to maintain my 30-pound weight loss for over a decade, glowing clear skin (no pimples or discoloration, etc.), and super healthy, full & shiny hair, still living life and enjoying it – the mindful way.

Eat home-cooked meals & (plant-based) whole foods – 90-95% of the time

Incorporate at least 1 salad into my daily routine (either a large, hearty lunch salad or a simple green salad as a starter with dinner)

Include at least 1 fruit/vegetable in every meal or snack

Never restrict food groups – whole grains/potatoes, healthy fats, protein-rich plant foods, and produce are all essential to consume every day

Focus on meals, but have whole food snack options on hand to enjoy if genuinely hungry (mainly fruit, lupini beans, edamame, carrots/celery/cucumber with hummus, plain popcorn, handful of almonds/cashews)

Have breakfast after one coffee (before a second) and have dinner late enough (8-9:30 pm) to curb late-night hunger

Only have fruit and tea after dinner; Always stop consuming food at least 3 hours before bed for better sleep/digestion

Order whatever I want when going out to eat, but split dessert

Have at least one indulgent meal/dessert per week

No sugary cocktails – wine, champagne/prosecco, martinis, gin & tonic, margarita, French Connection, Sambuca, Grappa, tequila on the rocks, etc. are great options. Bellinis/fruit plus wine/spirits cocktails are a good middle ground. Sugary drinks worsen the hangover – big-time

Perceive healthy eating as a form of enjoyment, creativity, and nourishment, not restriction or deprivation (it's not if done liberally enough)

Consume a vitamin B12 and vitamin D supplement daily. Keep digestive enzymes on hand for when they're necessary

Always have a large glass of water first thing in the morning (before coffee) and by my side all day long

No soda, juices, sugary drinks, etc. Black coffee, tea, and water only on the daily – wine and no-sugar alcoholic drinks on rare occasions. Smoothies can be a great snack or breakfast, though!

Incorporate an (almost) daily walk into my schedule as a form of exercise and a mental health reset (I aim for 4-5 miles/10Kish steps per day on average)

Do short, low-impact strengthen training exercises 3x a week (15-30 mins each usually) for bone health & toning

Never forcing myself to do strenuous exercise/workout formally in a gym – it's not for me; it doesn't make me feel/look better and throws my hunger & energy levels way off. To each their own, though

Have a variety of playlists ready to go for waking up, working, dancing, walking/workouts, doing chores, and reading/relaxing

Internalizing that sexual health is a core aspect of your health & well-being – on all counts

Maintaining a simple skincare routine 2x per week with high-quality products and a couple of weekly treatments

Prioritizing my body care routine with as much as my facial skincare routine

Wearing at least SPF 30 daily

Exfoliating 2-3x per week

Learning what hair products work for my hair type; Using a deep conditioning mask and a scalp mask weekly

Using only cold water when washing my hair

Incorporating face & body massages into my weekly at-home routine

Using Uriage lip balm, hand cream, and deodorant religiously

Flossing 1-2 times a day/using an electric toothbrush

2K notes · View notes

shadowtriovibes · 8 months

Text

fever (what a lovely way to burn)

Pairing: Sebastian Sallow x f!MC

Word Count: 4.8k

Rating: M

Warnings: 18+, aged-up characters, friends to lovers, character with fever/illness, mild sensual content

Summary: request: "since you saved Sebastian from Azkaban, he has met you in the common room every morning and you have gone to breakfast together. One morning he isn't there so you go to his room looking for him to find him in bed, poorly."

“I’m disgusting,” he groans. “I can’t stop coughing, I’m sweating everywhere, I feel like I’m going to be sick but there’s nothing to–” He cuts himself off with several dry, pathetic coughs. “Here’s what we’re going to do,” you tell him firmly. “Ominis is going to go to class and come back this afternoon with some Muggle medicinals. In the meantime, I’m going to help you eat a bit of food and have a bath.” “N-no, absolutely not,” he stammers. “You think I want you seeing me like this any more than you already have?”

Monday, October 5, 1891

Even a month after the start of term, it’s unseasonably warm in the Highlands. The heat from the dog days of summer persists well into the arrival of autumn, permeating the ancient stone walls of the castle and settling like a thin layer of fog across Hogwarts’ students.

Professor Sharp’s N.E.W.T.s-level Potions class meets promptly at nine o’clock every morning. Despite the early time slot, the dungeon-level classroom starts to become warm rather quickly thanks to the heat of two dozen bodies and six potion stations, each with their flickering flames preheating the students’ pewter cauldrons.

Your little trio is usually the last to arrive from breakfast. Sebastian sidles up to the doorway just as Professor Sharp is preparing to close it, gallantly offering to hold it open for you and Ominis as you take your time sauntering down the hall, arms linked together and chatting happily about the latest gossip to have surfaced in the Great Hall.

Then you settle in at the potions table squarely in the middle of the classroom, which you’d unabashedly claimed at the start of term. (Ominis can hear Professor Sharp most clearly here, and Sebastian, as always, gets to remain the center of attention.)

Finally, with Ominis’ dictation quill hovering over his parchment, Professor Sharp begins his daily discourse.

“Dittany, as you’ll recall, is one of the most useful herbs for creating a wide range of healing draughts,” he explains, showing off a tendril of the fiercely pink plant clipped from Professor Garlick’s greenhouse just that morning. “Can anyone give me an example of one?”

“Wiggenweld Potion, sir,” Amit chimes in.

“Very good, Mister Thakkar,” Sharp replies with an approving nod. “Another?”

Adelaide Oakes timidly raises her hand. “Essence of Dittany, sir?”

“Well done, Miss Oakes,” he murmurs. “Though not as effective as a properly-brewed bottle of Wiggenweld, dittany on its own can be used to craft a powerful restorative tonic – especially useful in preventing the occurrence of scars. Five points to Hufflepuff.”

Then Professor Sharp glances around the room expectantly. “One more, perhaps?”

“Moustache paste, sir?” Sebastian mumbles under his breath, and you quickly elbow him in the side.

“What was that, Mister Sallow?” Professor Sharp drawls.

Sebastian bites the inside of his cheek. “Er, the Antidote to Common Poisons, perhaps?”

Professor Sharp levels Sebastian with a dubious look. “I’m afraid not. While dittany is a broadly useful herb, its powers are generally limited to healing, not curing. When considering its uses, think ‘paper cut,’ not ‘influenza.’”

You raise your hand and ask, “Sir, are there any potions that do cure illnesses?”

“Yes, in fact,” Professor Sharp answers. “The Pepperup Potion will quickly resolve any common colds or cases of the flu, with the enigmatic side effect of generating steam that will pour from your ears for hours on end.”

You wince a bit. “I suppose that’s worth being over a cold in a day.”

“I should think so,” he replies with a slight grin. “So has the majority of the wizarding world since the twelfth century.”

As Professor Sharp segues into a lecture on the history of healing potions, you pull out a piece of parchment and start to take down some notes.

“Sebastian,” you hiss. “What does Pepperup Potion taste like?”

“I wouldn’t know,” he says. “I’ve only had it once, and it was a decade ago.”

You frown. “Why’s that?”

“I can’t drink it,” Sebastian says simply. “I’m allergic to bicorn horn.”

You blink, surprised. “You’re… allergic? How did you even discover that about yourself?”

“Oh, it was gruesome,” Ominis chimes in gleefully.

Sebastian rolls his eyes. “Well, I had my suspicions as a child when my parents gave me Pepperup Potion and steam poured out of my ears, nose, and mouth for a full week. Simply suffering through the cold would have been better.”

“And then?” you prompt.

“Well… in our third year, Anne and I made some Polyjuice Potion,” Sebastian admits, glancing around furtively. “We wanted to see if we could attend our classes all day as each other without anyone noticing the difference.”

“And Polyjuice Potion has bicorn horn,” you surmise.

Ominis looks delighted. “They were both in the Hospital Wing for three days, stuck as half-formed versions of each other.”

You gasp in disbelief. “That sounds awful!”

“It was the one and only time in their lives they were truly identical!” Ominis crows. “‘Sebastianne,’ we called them.”

You can’t help but giggle at Ominis’ delight while Sebastian sulks.

“In any case,” Sebastian grumbles, “I can’t take Pepperup Potion anymore, but luckily I never get sick.”

“Really?” you ask skeptically. “Everyone gets a common cold once in a while.”

“Not me,” he says proudly. “I haven’t been sick since I was a child. At the very least, if I have been sick, it must have been so mild that I wasn’t slowed down in the slightest – no need for Pepperup, thanks.”

“I’d be careful, Sebastian,” Ominis demurs. “Wouldn’t want to tempt fate, would we?”

With a lazy shrug, Sebastian turns to his potions station and begins to roughly chop some dittany leaves for a new healing potion Sharp intends to teach that afternoon. He glances up surreptitiously while you tie your hair back with one of those green ribbons you like to keep around your wrist for when the Potions classroom becomes especially humid with cauldron steam.

Though it’s unwise to lose focus while holding a knife, Sebastian has become quite skilled at multitasking while tending to his lovesick heart with stolen glances and half-formed daydreams.

He becomes so distracted staring at the column of your neck that when he suddenly feels a bit dizzy, he merely attributes it to the thick, heavy air in the room.

—

Tuesday, October 6, 1891

“You look dreadful,” you tell Sebastian cheerfully as you take a seat at breakfast.

Across from you, Sebastian looks a sight. His generally unruly hair is sticking up in every direction, and his face, which until this morning had still been sun-kissed and freckled from his time carrying out summer chores in Feldcroft, is ghostly pale.

“Cheers,” he grumbles, his head in his hands as he stares down at a plate full of untouched tattie scones.

You know for a fact they’re his favorite. In fact, you’ve stolen countless scones from the Great Hall on weekends when he treats himself to a bit of a lie-in just to make sure there are some left for when he finally emerges, hair rumpled and cheeks creased with pillow lines.

“Late night?” you ask him as you pour yourself some juice.

“The opposite, actually,” Ominis explains. “Sebastian was asleep before I even finished my Runes assignment last night, and I practically had to drag him out of bed this morning.”

“That doesn’t sound like you,” you comment, frowning. “You’re usually up half the night reading. Are you sure you’re alright?”

Sebastian shrugs weakly. “I’m fine, I just… It’s dreadfully warm in the castle, and my head is aching.”

Without thinking, you reach across the table and press the back of your hand against his forehead.

“You’re quite hot,” you mumble.

“Wh-what?” Sebastian stammers, his eyes going wide. “What did you do that for?”

“You have a fever,” you explain to him. “Old Muggle trick. And your eyes are quite glassy. I think you might be coming down with something.”

Ominis unsubtly slides further down the bench.

“I’m not sick,” Sebastian protests. “It’s just the heat, it’s making me tired.”

You eye him warily, and as if to prove that he’s not ill, Sebastian lifts one of his hoarded scones to his mouth and takes a bite.

“See?” he asks with his mouth full. “M’fine.”

You grimace. “Lovely.”

Sebastian determinedly joins you and Ominis for Potions and manages to remain upright until the very end of class. He sways just a bit as he gathers up his belongings, and you offer him your shoulder while you make your way toward the stairs to Divination.

He balks when he sees the twisting spiral steps.

“On second thought,” he mumbles, “I think I’ll skive off today and get some rest.”

“Will you be alright?” you ask him concernedly. “I can come with you…”

“No, it’s fine,” he insists. “I’ll just lie down for a bit and then I’ll be grand, I promise. Save a seat for me at dinner, will you?”

Later that evening you linger in the Great Hall until the last of dinner melts through the tables down to the kitchens below, but Sebastian never shows up.

—

Wednesday, October 7, 1891

“You do not want to go in there,” Ominis tells you warningly. “Trust me, he’s a mess.”

You scoff. “Don’t be ridiculous.”

Sebastian still hasn’t emerged from his dormitory in nearly eighteen hours, and you’re starting to worry for him. Ominis had brought him back some food from dinner the night before, but according to him, it had gone untouched.

When he’d failed to show his face at breakfast, you knew you had to step in.

“He wouldn’t want you to see him like this,” Ominis tries. “Sebastian is hardly a gentleman, but some things are sacred.”

“He’s our best friend,” you remind Ominis. “I really don’t care if he’s not entirely put together.”

Ominis opens his mouth as if to say more, and then seemingly changes his mind.

“Fine,” he sighs. “I’ll tell Professor Sharp you’re tending to Sebastian, and I’ll ask Amit if you can borrow his notes.”

“You’re a lifesaver, Ominis,” you breathe, quickly pulling him in for a hug. “What would we do without you?”

“Rot in Azkaban, most likely,” he grumbles, which… is fair.

Once Ominis leaves for class, you gently knock on the seventh-year boys’ dormitory door. “Sebastian? Can I come in?”

Through the door, you hear him whine, “Go ‘way.”

“Sebastian,” you call out patiently. “Ominis told me you’re sick, and you haven’t gotten out of bed in too long. I’m coming in.”

He protests weakly from his bed as you open the door and slip inside, carefully pressing it closed behind you. As you’d expected, his other roommates have all gone for the day. Only Sebastian remains – or at least, you think it’s Sebastian.

All you can see sticking out from underneath the pile of pilfered blankets on his bed is a mess of curly, brown hair.

“Oh, dear,” you sigh.

“Jus’ leave me alone,” he mumbles from beneath the covers. “...I think I’m sick.”

“Finally facing the music, are you?” you tease him, taking a seat at the foot of his bed. “How are you feeling?”

“Like death warmed over,” he groans. “I’ve never been this ill before.”

“Should I take you to see Nurse Blainey?” you ask him. “I know you can’t have Pepperup Potion, but perhaps she has something else that would help.”

“No,” he sighs. “Ominis already sent for her, she said I’m a dafty and I’ll be fine in a coupl’a days.”

You bite back a laugh at Sebastian’s deteriorating accent; for how posh he usually sounds, apparently that rougher Feldcroft vernacular tends to slip out when he’s feeling poorly.

“Poor lamb,” you croon. “Can I do anything for you? Have you eaten?”

“M’not hungry,” he sulks. “Ominis made me drink some water before he left.”

You hum softly as you start to slowly pull his piles of blankets down low enough that you can see his face. Quickly you realize that Ominis had been exaggerating – Sebastian doesn’t look entirely a mess.

His eyes are a bit wet and glassy, you observe, and his nose is bright red from persistent rubbing with a handkerchief abandoned on his bedside table. He looks a little swollen beneath his jaw, but otherwise, he looks like he’d merely stayed awake all night, and you’ve seen a sleepless Sebastian countless times throughout your friendship.

There’s a bit of stubble along his jaw that you’ve never noticed before; it’s the same rich brown color as his wild, unkempt hair.

(Honestly, how dare he still look handsome even when he’s ill.)

“Hello, you,” you tease him in a voice just above a whisper. “Was beginning to wonder if you were even there under all those blankets.”

“I’m cold,” he complains.

“That’s the fever talking,” you tell him. “You should probably–”

But before you can tell him that he’d be better off with less covers, the blankets shift lower and you realize he’s not wearing a pajama shirt.

(Your disobedient mind immediately raises the question of whether he’s wearing anything at all, and subsequently, if you could get away with having a look. Immediately you scold that particular thought away.)

“Er, you should… don’t overheat yourself,” you finish lamely.

He’s flushed down to his chest, fever-pale skin burning red where the blankets had been piled on top of him. You discover that he’s got a thin smattering of hair here, too; he’s grown into the body of a man much sooner than many of your classmates, you imagine.

Sebastian watches as you swallow, your own eyes raking down his body.

“You’re missing class,” he observes. “You never miss class.”

“It’ll be alright, just this once,” you say softly.

For a moment you aren’t sure if you’re talking about missing class or being in Sebastian’s bed.

Then Sebastian suddenly starts to cough and hastily reaches for his handkerchief. He sounds utterly pathetic as he coughs and groans in discomfort, rolling onto his side and looking for all the world like a kicked puppy.

“My chest hurts,” he whimpers. “I’ve been coughing all night.”

You reach across him and gently stroke the backs of your fingers down the middle of his chest. His skin is noticeably hot to the touch and damp with sweat.

“I can put some Muggle herbs in a warm compress for your chest,” you offer. “I know they’re not as effective as a potion would be, but it always helped me feel better when I was a child.”

“Alright, I suppose that’d be nice,” he mumbles.

But when you move to stand, he quickly snags your wrist.

“Wait,” he says. “Er… where would you go? For how long?”

“Well, I’ll have to go see if Nurse Blainey has any, and if not I can go look at the edge of the Forbidden Forest,” you explain. “It might take a bit of time, I’m afraid.”

“Then, just… stay,” he whines. “Keep me company? That’s better than some plain old herbs.”

You shift onto the bed, curling up on your side behind Sebastian. It’s a tight fit, and you’re dangerously close to falling off the edge, but you’re able to leave enough space between your bodies that you can make the argument that it’s friendly, and it’s fine.

“Can I rub your back?” you ask him softly. “It might help with the soreness.”

You have no idea if it will help his aching body, but you’re eager to try it nonetheless.

“Go on,” Sebastian rasps. “I… I might fall asleep.”

“You should,” you croon. “Your body’s telling you that you need to rest.”

“S’pathetic,” he grumbles. “I never get sick.”

“You had a good run,” you tease him. “But the common cold comes for us all eventually.”

He falls silent after that, his leanly muscled arms curled around a pillow while you stroke your hand up and down the length of his back. He’s so warm, and you’re a bit anxious about letting him ride out a fever as long as he has, but soon he drifts off to sleep.

You learn two things while he rests: he snores when he’s on his back, and he frowns whenever you take your hands off of him.

—

Thursday, October 8, 1891

Ominis had managed to talk you into returning to your own dormitory for the night, promising to look after Sebastian while you got some rest. When you return the following morning, you find him in even worse condition.

His sheets are bunched down to his hips, and he’s still bare from the waist up. His entire body is covered in a thin layer of sweat, and the bags underneath his eyes have worsened – despite how much rest he’s getting, he seems more fatigued than ever.

“What happened?!” you ask Ominis.

“He’s had a fever all night,” Ominis says grimly, looking just as worn out as Sebastian. “He hasn’t eaten a thing, and I’ve barely been able to get him to drink some water.”

“Oh, Seb,” you sigh, taking his clammy hand and resting it in your lap as you sit on the edge of the bed. “You poor thing.”

“I think I’m dying,” he rasps. “This is it, right?”

“Hush now, there’s no need to be so dramatic,” you gently scold him, pressing your hand to his forehead. “You’re quite warm, but I’m not worried about your imminent demise.”

“I’m disgusting,” he groans. “I can’t stop coughing, I’m sweating everywhere, I feel like I’m going to be sick but there’s nothing to–”

He cuts himself off with several dry, pathetic coughs.

“Here’s what we’re going to do,” you tell him firmly. “Ominis is going to go to class and come back this afternoon with some Muggle medicinals. In the meantime, I’m going to help you eat a bit of food and have a bath.”

“N-no, absolutely not,” he stammers. “You think I want you seeing me like this any more than you already have?”

“You’ll feel better,” you promise him. “And I swear I won’t, er… look, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

You argue back and forth until Sebastian, utterly depleted of his typical stubbornness, loses energy and gives in. Ominis promises to stop by J. Pippin’s to see if the shopkeeper has any draughts suitable for Sebastian’s allergies before leaving to go to class, and you help Sebastian get out of bed with his arm around your shoulders and your own around his waist.

(He’s got pants on, thank Merlin, but you have to help him into a pair of pajamas to make the walk to the Slytherin baths.)

Sebastian balks when you enter the boys’ baths, but you both quickly learn there are no enchantments in place to keep you from joining him. You offer him an arm to lean on while he takes off his pajamas and coughs – this time pointedly – for you to turn around while he sinks into the lukewarm bath you’d drawn.

“This does feel nice,” he finally says once he’s settled in the opaque, murlap-scented water.

“Good,” you say, hoping he doesn’t notice how your voice has gone up a bit higher than usual. “I’ll be back in a few moments with some fresh pajamas for you.”

“I’ll try not to drown while you’re gone,” he drawls, and even though he still sounds exhausted, you smile to yourself knowing that the bath is already helping him feel more like his usual self.

Hogwarts’ house elves were exceptionally fast in tidying up the boys’ dormitory while the two of you were out, so when you finally lead a clean, dry Sebastian back to his room, you’re thrilled to find freshly laundered sheets and a new pair of pillows waiting for him.

“Gods, I love magic,” he groans as he collapses into bed.

You stay all afternoon and into the evening. Ominis returns shortly before dinner with a brew from Parry Pippin himself, similar to the Pepperup Potion but with cinnamon instead of powdered bicorn horn.

(Sebastian seems to emit thin tendrils of steam straight from the top of his head after he drinks it, but he perks up all the same.)

Feenky herself brings a tray of soup and some leftover scones from breakfast once Sebastian regains his appetite. While he eats, he tells you about how he used to sit with Anne during the summers when she was particularly ill from her curse.

“At the time, I wondered if my being there was more of a help or a hindrance,” he says ruefully. “She was… hard to read, then. I couldn’t tell if she was annoyed by me or appreciated me staying.”

You pause before shyly asking, “Am I helping? By being here?”

“Of course,” he says without thinking.

“Then I’m sure you were helping Anne, even when she was annoyed,” you tell him reassuringly. “That’s all we ever want to do really, isn’t it? Help the ones we love?”

Sebastian glances up at his tray with an inscrutable expression on his face. His eyes are still glassy and he’s a bit peaky, but the cinnamon-laced, not-quite-Pepperup Potion has restored some of the usual warmth in his gaze.

“Right,” he echoes. “Help the ones we love.”

You end up staying the night in the boys’ dormitory. Only Ominis knows you’re there, as he draws the curtains around the both of you before the boys’ other roommates return from the common room. Given that Sebastian seems to be feeling better already, it’s not strictly necessary.

But it feels nice all the same.

—

Friday, October 9, 1891

Sebastian’s fever finally broke during the night.

When you wake up he’s wrapped around you from behind, one of his legs jammed between yours with his arm curled possessively around your waist.

You’re sweltering, but he’s cool to the touch.

“Sebastian,” you whisper, but he doesn’t answer.

Judging by the way sunlight pours over the top of Sebastian’s bed curtains, it’s well past when you’d usually wake up during the school week. You can’t hear any other snoring boys around you, either.

“Sebastian,” you hiss. “Wake up.”

He groans tiredly into your hair as his arm tightens around your waist. “No.”

“N-no?!” you sputter. “It’s morning! We… we should, er.”

You trail off when you realize you aren’t quite sure what you should be doing. Evidently you’ve missed breakfast, and you’ve likely missed the start of Potions for the third day in a row. Professor Sharp will have no choice but to give you a detention; just as well, you suppose, as you can use the time to make up what you’ve missed.

But now that the damage is done…

“How are you feeling?” you ask him softly, your eyes still fixed on the green curtains in front of your face.

“Loads better,” he says, only this time his lips are pressed against the sensitive spot behind your ear.

You gasp as he rolls more of his weight toward you, pressing you more firmly into the mattress.

“Sebastian…” you sigh.

“I had a dream about you last night,” he confesses, his voice barely above a whisper beneath your ear. “I’ve heard Pepperup Potion can give one strange dreams.”

“St-strange?” you whisper back. “Why was it a strange dream?”

“I suppose it wasn’t really ‘strange,’” he acquiesces. “But it was nice. Really nice.”

“Tell me about it?” you ask breathlessly.

“Perhaps I’ll show you instead,” he asks, and when you nod, he slides his hand down to your hip and turns you onto your back.

Then quite suddenly he’s leaning over you, one knee still between your thighs. He rests on his elbows so his face is just centimeters from yours, and it’s the first time you’ve gotten a good look at him since the boys put out last night’s fire.

Sebastian looks so much better. His cheeks are flushed, his eyes are clear and bright, and the sickly sheen of sweat he’d worn for days is entirely gone. (His hair is still a bird’s nest, but that’s to be expected.)

“We were like this,” he tells you.

“Were we just talking?” you ask him, but you’re met with only silence.

After a beat, he asks you, “Why have you been so kind to me this week?”

“You’re my best friend,” you tell him softly. “I – I wanted to help you feel better.”

“Is that all I am?” he asks. “Am I simply your friend?”

You bite your lip hesitantly and his gaze dips down to your mouth, his brown eyes nearly black in the soft morning light.

“Do you want to kiss me, Sebastian?” you ask.

Rather than answering, he surprises you by leaning down and pressing a sweet kiss to the corner of your mouth. Then he lifts one of his hands to gently tip your face toward his, cradling your jaw while he deepens the kiss into one that’s hardly sweet at all.

It feels like it’s perhaps the first time in days that Sebastian has felt hunger.

You gasp his name into his mouth and then he’s the one biting your lip, just a quick graze of his teeth before he soothes your ensuing whine with another slow kiss. He shifts his weight onto his hip to rest on the mattress beside you, using that leg between yours to coax you into lying next to him. He rewards your body’s assent with a filthy kiss – the kind you’ve only read about in those Muggle romance novels you hide under your pillow, the kind where the hero kisses the girl with his tongue in her mouth and his hand in her blouse.

“Seb,” you moan.

“I didn’t know,” he confesses against your lips.

“Didn’t know what?” you whine.

“I didn’t know you loved me until last night,” he says, pressing his forehead against yours.

You’re so distracted by how red and swollen his lips look that you nearly miss him saying, “You stayed with me all week, you held me, practically healed me, and I still didn’t know.”

“Of course I love you,” you tell him.

“You love Ominis, you love Poppy,” he counters. “This – us – is different. Right?”

And the truth is, you would have done anything you’d done for Sebastian for any one of your friends. You would have helped Poppy into a warm bath and back into bed, and you would have sat at Ominis’ bedside all day and torn up pieces of scone to float on the surface of his soup.

But you would not have let them press you into their bedsheets and trace their lips along your neck, and right now Sebastian is eagerly doing both.

“Yes,” you whimper, both in answer to his question and as a plea for more.

“I love you, too,” he sighs against your jaw. “I have for ages, and I didn’t want you to see me all pathetic and poorly, but you still love me anyway.”

“I’ve loved you through worse,” you quietly remind him.

He nips at your throat for that remark; you’ve both agreed to speak of your fifth year as little as possible. Truly, the only reason you’d ever bring it up now is to remind Sebastian that you’ve long since made your choice – him, over duty and the law and perhaps even reason.

“Stay with me,” he pleads. “We have all morning, we have the dormitory to ourselves. Let me take care of you now.”

He pulls your thigh across his own and tangles his fingers in your sleep-mussed hair, holding you against his warm, bare chest.

“That’s tempting,” you breathe. “B-but perhaps we should check with Nurse Blainey, to see if you’re ready to return to–”

You cut yourself off with a gasp as he grinds his hips against yours. There’s no mistaking that he’s aroused, and that alone convinces you that he must be feeling well – you’re positive that he would’ve been too weak for this type of debauchery yesterday morning even if you’d gotten fully nude before him and begged.

“Trust me, I feel excellent,” he moans into your mouth. “Love, please.”

You don’t come up for air for a long while after that. By the time Ominis stops by during lunchtime to check on Sebastian, he nearly trips over your skirt, hastily tossed near the doorway.

“I take it you’re feeling better,” he deadpans.

“That potion of yours worked like a charm, Ominis,” Sebastian drawls. “Cinnamon, who would have thought?”

“I don’t suppose I mentioned that Muggles find cinnamon to be an organic aphrodisiac?” Ominis says innocently. “At least, that’s what Mister Pippin said. He told me you might have some rather amorous dreams while you recover.”

“No, I think you forgot to mention that,” Sebastian replies just as innocently.

Ominis simply hums and says, “Well, now that you’ve been made aware, I’ll be off to Herbology. I’d recommend locking the door if our dear friend is going to be keeping you company this afternoon, Sebastian.”

You’re too embarrassed to say a word, but Sebastian cheerfully thanks him as he pulls the door shut and reaches for his wand on his bedside table to magically lock it behind him.

“We’ve become menaces,” you whine as he rolls on top of you once more.

Sebastian grins wickedly down at you. “Not yet we haven’t, but thank Merlin we’ve got all afternoon.”

#hogwarts legacy #hogwarts legacy fic #sebastian sallow #sebastian sallow fic #sebastian sallow x reader #sebastian sallow x mc #sebastian x reader #sebastian x mc #my fic #man flu sebastian :(((

1K notes · View notes

churipu · 4 months

Note

FIRST EVER REQUEST. WOOHOO!!

Id like to request jjk men with a reader that has atrociously long hair, like super duper long hair please.

(eg. do some get mad becuz the hair is everywhere. Do some help you make your hair)

I hope your taking care of yourself and staying healthy and hydrated <3 mwah mwah

JJK MEN + PARTNER WHO HAS LONG HAIR

featuring. gojo satoru, toji fushiguro, choso kamo x reader

warnings. cursing (toji)

note. hi nonnieee, congrats on your first request mwah mwah. as a person who used to have ATROCIOUSLY long hair — some people weren't happy, including me (which is why i decided to chop it off >:() and nonnie baby, i hope you're also taking care of yourself <33 also, i'm gonna be closing the requests as of now while i try to finish the other requests, and it will be opened back if everything is done! thank you.

GOJO SATORU. loves your hair, no questions asked. he loves playing with your hair if you both are just chilling in the house, the male always tries to look up easy hairstyles to do for beginners — which never ends up good.

gojo once got your hair stuck in a brush because he was too focused in watching the tutorial, and he contemplated chopping your hair off. but you threatened him, and so he spent approximately one and a half hour to untangle your hair.

after that day, he never tried a new hairstyle in fear of doing something wrong again. but he still and does play with your hair, twirling it around his slender fingers and caressing it — sometimes he helps you with drying your hair after a shower, and he helps on your hair care routine.

"so i just put the tonic on? how much should i put? four dose of pipettes?" he asks you, looking at the small pipette in confusion.

"baby, no— just four squeezes are enough." you informed, a bit worried about your hair now; but the male did extremely well, even giving your scalp a quick massage.

"did i do good? can i do it again next time, please please?" he asks you, pulling you into his chest, "it's fun, i'm like your personal hairdresser."

you rolled your eyes, "sure, sure. free of charge, right?"

the male rolled his eyes, "of course not, there's a price to it. i get a kiss after, one for the tonic, one for the massage. deal?" he proposed, planting a sloppy kiss on your lips.

"i like that deal. deal."

TOJI FUSHIGURO. he hates it. on certain occasions — absolutely despises your hair when you're both cuddling, it gets into his face, his eyes, his mouth, everywhere where he doesn't want it to be. but out of that, he's perfectly fine with it.

"ah, fuck— doll, 'm going to cut your hair one of these days and make it look like an accident," he groans out, gently brushing your hair aside as your back was pressed onto his chest.

"cut my hair, and i'll cut this relationship short."

toji chuckles, pressing a light kiss on the area between your neck and shoulder, "you're mean," he mumbles into your skin.

as much as he said he'd cut it (as a joke), he'd find your hair really fun to play with sometimes; and his fingers would reach out to the edges of your hair, playing with it while his eyes are focused elsewhere. during movie nights, he'd be unaware of his lingering fingers in your hair as he watches; you didn't mind though, letting his hand just roam in your hair until the movie ends.

the male looks intrigued by your hair care routine, toji would always be there to watch you put care into your hair. sometimes offering to do it, and when he messes up he asks you to take over because he was scared of ruining your beautiful hair.

"ah, shit. i can't do it baby, you take over." he mutters out in annoyance, sliding the hair tonic over to you after failing to pump in the right amount of liquid into the pipette from his strong grip.

the male looks up hairstyles and sends the link to you, asking: "can you try this hairstyle, wanna see you in it." and is never disappointed with the result.

he makes himself the small spoon so your hair wouldn't get in his face — not that he's complaining, he likes being held by you.

"what're you doing, toji?" you asked in confusion, seeing the male curled up in bed.

"being the small spoon," he mumbles out.

and from then on, he is now the small spoon (he loves it, but would never admit it, telling you that it's just because of your hair).

CHOSO KAMO. he is the best at doing hairstyles, especially pig tails. choso is so delicate with your hair, treating every strand like they're his own. and he was the first one to offer to do your hair when he sees you slightly struggling with trying out a new hairstyle.

he would be independent to look up new hairstyles and come to you, asking if he could try doing your hair.

"hi y/n," he appears behind the bedroom door, peeking slightly with a small smile, "can i do your hair?"

when you tell him yes, he gets so happy and skips on the bed. telling you to sit down in front of him while he follows the tutorial patiently — and when he's done, he's always giddy to hear your reaction to his work. such a cutie.

"cho, this looks really pretty, thank you," you kissed his forehead, and the male shyly smiles at you.

choso sees you putting on a lot of things on your hair after a shower and he began looking up hair care routines on the internet, how to do them step by step, remembering everything so he could be the one doing your hair care routine for you.

"baby, baby! i wanna do your hair care routine," he tells you, tugging your hand with a smile on his face.

you, of course, let him. trusting him with it — and choso delivers perfectly, doing the steps you usually do with the right amount of things. it makes him really happy when you tell him thank you and awarded him with a kiss or two.

choso loves and adores your hair, he treats it like his own.

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marybrownnaturals · 2 years

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k-atsukibakugou · 4 months

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the bathrooms at house parties are really only used for one thing

pairing: katsuki bakugou x f!reader w/c: 4.0k warning/s: fem!reader (has a pussy, wearing makeup + skirt), established relationship, toxic relationship, cheating, alcohol mention (tipsy sex), blood/biting/marking/cutting mention, unprotected sex, degradation/name calling (not really but just in case), hair pulling, fingering (f!receiving), oral (m!receiving)

crossposted to ao3 • masterlist • wip updates & voting • kofi • askbox

18+ MINORS + BLANK BLOGS DO NOT INTERACT

“you know you're a terrible friend, right?” your voice was already broken, growing more and more uneven the more your chest heaved against his, your words nearly silent against the blond’s skin, painted lips planting a kiss on his before travelling down his jaw and neck to the collar of his shirt. your airy voice was just loud enough to be heard over the heavy bass music shaking the wooden door, near deafening on the other side of it, the party in full swing, whooping and cheering, and a near constant clink of beer bottles tapping together breaking through the music occasionally, the celebrations downstairs continuing as if the two of you had never been there at all.

“i am, huh? what about you? abandoning the party you set up, just for a quick fuck?” katsuki was too breathless for his mean tone to carry any of the usual bite, the words only coming across as a hushed, panted attempt at his typical bullying. it made you return an equally breathless giggle at him, pulling back from kissing his neck to stare up into his carmine eyes studying you with half-lidded, smoky eyes; your dark eyeliner smudged around them just the way he liked. leaning back on the sink to rest your back against the small mirror behind you, your eyes sparkled staring into his, mischief and lust swimming around the depths of your pupils. he couldn’t wait to have them rolling into the back of your head, exactly like they did every time you met like this, rushing, locked in cramped, darkened rooms whenever you both had a free moment, not a second thought for the time or place, only thinking of feeling one another.

even here, your game of kings cup and bursts of dancing cut short when your eyes met his ruby red ones across the hall the moment he walked through the door, only breaking the intense contact to answer a heavy tap on your shoulder; the birthday boy tilting your chin up for your punishment drink, the cup half full of random splashes of everyone's alcohol; your’s and eijiro’s hard lemonade, ochako’s gin and tonic, momo’s prosecco and jirou’s fruity vodka, and you thought you could taste juuuust taste the beer denki dug out too. eijiro flashed his sharp white teeth down at you in a lopsided grin when you dipped your head back further and opened your mouth, your eyes locked up into his scarlet ones as you tried your hardest not to choke on the gross mixture of the drinks, cheering with high fives, whistling and whooping with everyone when you swallowed it with a sour face, missing the way katsuki’s scarlet eyes tracked a stray droplet of the liquid down your jaw, to your neck, to your chest before it disappeared into your neckline.

while you were celebrating, receiving a boyish slap on the back from hanta, katsuki was still surveying you, only pulled from his focus on you by his friends shoving him in greeting, dragging the fashionably late blond into the kitchen, denki passing him a can while mina handed him a fresh cup, pressuring him to catch up before you could even get in a greeting. katsuki had already downed half the cup by the time the redhead let go of your jaw to greet his final friend to arrive. you wiped your chin, catching any last stray drops from the foul drink with your finger, sucking into your mouth, your heart jumping to your throat catching his gaze once more, cherry red eyes locking to your lips over the rim of the plastic cup, stormy pupils glued to your dark lips wrapped around your finger.

not even an hour after he showed up, here you were: your skirt hiked up around your hips and your hair mussed while your heartbeat thrummed under the skin of your throat against his soft lips, the centre of them stained red from whatever he was drinking before pulling you in here, the empty cup abandoned on the edge of your sink beside your own, both of you preoccupied with exploring hands under shirts, lips and teeth clashing, both of you trying to take everything you needed from each other; desperate to feel his hot skin against yours already, one kiss from him already getting your breath hitching in the back of your throat, your blood burning hot with need.

“oh please, you know that is nowhere near what you’re doing, this has to be some kind of record, you couldn’t even wait, what? a week?” you teased, catching the way his eyes flashed a shade darker in the mirror ahead of you when he spun you around, a threatening squeeze of his rounded fingernails into the fat of your hips and the sharp point of his canines serving as a warning to shut your mouth before he’d do it for you. you were right, he knew it, but he also knew you weren’t much better, maybe even worse, parading around in the shortest skirt he knew you owned; he could picture you clear as day digging through all of them for this one, picking it for the way it hugged your figure, for the ease katsuki would hike it high on your hips to leave your thighs on display, so little of the fabric covering you he hardly even needed to tug at it to admire the curve of your ass. biting your lip, you submitted to his threats, not having the time you typically would to play with him, to mock his obsession with you, your addiction to each other, instead settling in more against the sink, pushing your ass back against him, “you got a condom, ‘ki?

“i’ll pull out,” his warm breath and soft lips on the side your neck reminded you of every time you’d ended up exactly like this, katsuki always determined to kiss you anywhere he could reach in the time you had, but never leaving any evidence, the same couldn’t be said for your lipstick marring his jaw, clearly this rule was being thrown to the wind tonight, dull fingertips digging into your clothed tits as his teeth latched onto your neck, finally laying his claim on your skin after nearly a year of this, letting his fingertips leave ten cute bruises on your skin beneath his hands, ignoring the way you tried to push him away from you (with next to no effort, not really wanting him to stop), whispering sternly to him, “oi.”

“shut up, no one out there is sober enough to notice.” his lips didn’t move far from the side of your throat while he gruffly responded in your ear, sliding your shirt up your stomach to expose your tits to him, hot fingertips toying with your hard nipples as his mouth moved, stormy garnet eyes watching you shiver at his unusually bold behaviour before he moved back up toward your face, nipping hard beneath your ear to force a gasp from you, “‘n i know you need it, sweetheart, need it rougher than what he gives you, i could cut you and you’d thank me. or don’t you remember when you were on your back, voice all high, beggin’ me to fuck you like a bitch in heat? use me, katsuki, that sound familiar?”

you flushed hot hearing him mock your high-pitched moaning, your mouth snapping shut, not wanting to admit you thought of it constantly, replaying his growls and deep groans in your mind when you needed to cum. when you stayed quiet, not admitting anything, he continued, one thick hand travelling up your bare navel to your chest to settle at your neck, holding your jaw like the redhead had earlier, keeping your face forward for him to stare down in the mirror, “next time you tease me like that, you’ll have handprints to try n’ explain to him.”

it wasn’t so much a threat, as it was a promise, no venom coating the words, only desperation underlying his arrogance, damn near begging you to give him a reason to make you his. you melted more into his touch hearing his voice dropping at the mention of his handprints littering your skin, giving up trying to dissect his tone, instead just revelling in his rough, impatient hands roaming your body, slipping between your thighs to stroke the slippery, sensitive skin there, the very tips of his fingers tugging at the tiny amount of fabric there. katsuki’s frenzied touches to your pussy sent electricity through your nerves, the feel of his warm hands on your more addicting than any other date could ever hope to be, his eyes far more captivating, always keeping your gaze locked on his in the mirror, your eyelashes fluttering to break the intense contact the moment his fingers sunk into your dripping cunt with a low groan.

“see, baby? you still need me, you always will.” you were too distracted to respond, to try and argue despite how wet you got looking at him, focusing on keeping your sounds of pleasure as soft as you could, making sure the music remained the most prominent sound in the house. katsuki had already let go of your face, but hypnotised by his sculpted form, you kept staring forward at his reflection, his free hand now pressing on the small of your back to keep you arched in front of him, keeping your needy cunt on display (katsuki addicted to how your body reacted to him, it didn’t tease or mock him, it never lied about how much it needed him). your pussy was the star of the show, evident by the way he toyed with you; plunging and curling his fingers deep inside you until you keened, only pulling them back to rub your clit, taking his time to warm you up, hardly needing to when you fucked him only five days ago in an unused supply closet, shelves covered in a thin layer of dust disturbed only by his handprints and your ass.

you got lost staring at him, your heart racing anytime his strong hands were on you, thinking about what he was saying with his hand around your neck; he was right of course, katsuki had always been the only one to satiate you, to scratch the itch deep inside you that no nice guy you’ve ever dated would be able to, the kind of itch only he could relieve, a frenzied fuck that had you both out and done in under thirty minutes, half of that time spent toying with each other, instead of making love for hours into the night. his thick fingers, sharp teeth, venomous words and stormy glare doing more to you than all the others before him combined, locking knowing eyes with him across a room getting you closer to cumming than some of their cocks.

“quit thinkin’ so loud.”

his words brought you back down to earth, back to focusing entirely on his body heat on your skin, one of his hands squeezing your hip so tight you were worried he’d keep his promise and leave a dark mark on your skin for days to come. attentive eyes were locked on your reflection, he waited until your mouth dropped open to spit back some bratty retort at him, certain it would’ve been dripping with attitude if he didn’t sink himself into you, cutting you off; barking out a laugh at the way your eyebrows furrowed and you immediately bit down on your bottom lip to stay quiet, he thought you looked like your eyes were about to cross like some lewd manga kaminari and sero would froth over. not even giving you a moment to adjust to him, not like you really needed it with how effortlessly he got you wet, katsuki started fucking you urgently, his hips slamming into your ass over and over again, almost as if he was suddenly aware of the time constraint you were on, someone sure to notice the pair of you missing soon enough.

hard porcelain dug into your hips, your hands gripping the edge of the sink doing little to hold your body up against the strength of katsuki’s hips pumping behind you, no concern for the way he kept pushing you forward, your head nearly bumping the mirror if not for him gripping the hair at the back of your head.

“nothin’ to say now, huh, baby? you know i’m right, he doesn’t fucking compare to how i fuck you, or you wouldn’t keep crawlin’ back.”

katsuki’s arrogance was well-deserved, even if you wouldn’t say it aloud, the barely-there brush of his calloused fingertips over your clit had you hissing, your hips bucking into his touch, demanding more. he’ll give it to you, finally giving up the cat and mouse once he was satisfied with how you sought after him, circling two fingers around your swollen clit, lust-filled eyes flashing at the surprised moan that escaped you, your palm not fast enough to cover your mouth to muffle it. your shining eyes rolled at his cockiness, now stuck back in your skull at his ministrations, drawing you closer and closer to your end while you desperately nodded your head as much as you could in his grip at his words rather than squealing out a “yes, yes, yes katsuki!” like you wanted to.

katsuki kept a tight hold on your hair, his grip close to your skull, keeping your head up while the rest of your body slumped over the sink, your chest nearly touching the mirror with how deep your back arched, only getting deeper the more you slid against the slippery porcelain of the sink. your body was entirely supported by his hand, and the sink at your hips, your arms and legs weaker and weaker the longer he fucked you, the fat of your ass rippling with every slap of his hips against them, every thrust back inside you forcing another gasp and whine from your throat, muffled as much as you could with your hand, “you’re really about to cum?”

his voice was back to being mean, low and mocking, nearly black eyes watching your face contort with his words, his rough tone like a lightning strike straight to your cunt, your muscle squeezing around his cock enough to have him following you soon after. you couldn’t even nod if you tried, the only motor skills your brain was concerned with being your hand, buried under your skirt, circling your swollen clit until you were trembling, thighs tense and your knees shaky. still with a vice-like hold over your mouth, your eyebrows furrowed in the centre, your eyes squeezing shut, your tits bouncing against the mirror.

usually he’d be watching your face in the reflection, or the way your tits were spilling out more and more with every rut of his hips, instead, his eyes were glued to the way your cunt and thighs glistened in the dim yellow-y tinted light, admiring the white ring of your cream around his cock. the sight of your cunt so wrecked had his hips stuttering in your beating cunt, having only just enough composure left to pull out of your heavenly pussy, leaving you shaking and slumped over the sink without his strength to hold you upright.

your body felt like unset jelly, your head swimming with pleasure, your body still recovering from waves of aftershocks that had you whimpering when he was muttering to you again, pulling you off the sink with strong hands, “c’mere, baby.”

delirious, you blindly let him guide you to your knees in front of him, his leaking, hard cock level with your glassy eyes, wide and cockdrunk staring up into his. without another thought, you sat up straighter on your knees, reaching a hand out to stroke his cock, wet with your cum, your eyes flicking down when you licked your lips before staring back up at him through your eyelashes, parting your glossy lips to take him eagerly into your mouth, any remaining lipstick you might’ve had after kissing him now smearing down his cock.

“shit,” he hissed when you sucked the tip of his cock into your mouth, your tongue swirling slowly with your hand wrapping around the rest of his hard length, slowly taking in more of him until your lips met your hand, whimpering around him at the taste of yourself on his skin. his hand shot to the edge of the sink when his head bumped the back of your throat, gripping the edge warmed by your skin until his knuckles were turning white. his head fell back to stare at the ceiling with bitten lips, sure if he kept looking down at your pretty face he’d cum down your throat far too fast, garnet eyes flicking down to you when you whined around him, eyebrows squeezed together, your tongue gliding over his skin clouding his mind. katsuki swore again under his breath, squeezing the sink impossibly harder, grounding himself when he pulled out of your mouth, the soft pop sound drowning out your sound of disapproval.

“stick your tongue out.” you obeyed his gruff demand, at the stage of your encounter where you were too dumb to argue anymore, your games at the very back of your mind, resigned to listening, obeying. katsuki’s eyes looked darker, menacing to the untrained eye, but you knew the black was swimming with pleasure, your kneeling form reflected in his endless pupils. his eyelashes cast shadows over his face, kissing the tops of his cheeks, the light hitting the tops of your cheekbones when you tilted your head up toward him, your mouth falling open in front of him while he jerked his wrist over his length; only thrice more until his cum was spilling from the tip to your eagerly awaiting tongue. your lips shined under the light, saliva, your own cum, and now his reflecting under the downlight; your eyes shining with something else katsuki could’t place, the sparkle swiftly replaced with your usual fucked out expression, your mouth closing around the tip of his cock, your tongue flicking over the head to savour the last of his salty taste.

about to take him further into your mouth, desperate to make him shake like he always did when you pressed your tongue to the vein running along his cock– your eyes go wide staring up at him, a gentle, irregular knock echoing in the small room, your heartbeat spiking at the dull sound, jumping away from the blond at the noise, like a child caught in the cookie jar. you sobered up immediately at the noise, your mind suddenly clear and your blood cold, your body lost in anxiety instead of the intoxicating air surrounding katsuki.

katsuki returns a fist of his own on the wall, a louder slam of his hand on the wall than the soft rap of knuckles on the door, yanking his pants back up his hips with his other hand, belt between his fingers when you scramble to your feet, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand, “occupied, fuck off.”

whoever interrupted you was sent stumbling down the hallway at his brash response, searching for another bathroom while you both tried to recover from the sudden adrenaline surge, katsuki sliding his belt back into place while you sucked in a deep breath, letting it out in a soft laugh before turning around to face the mirror. the silver surface reflecting back your smeared makeup, looking just as debauched as you felt. with another slow, deep breath, you wiped a thumb under your plump bottom lip to clean any remnants of lipstick, cleaning yourself up as best as you could, trying to ignore katsuki shifting from foot to foot behind you while you tugged your skirt, straightening it against your thighs, trying your best to not to look like you were just fucked stupid in the upstairs bathroom of eijiro’s birthday party. katsuki looked perfectly dishevelled, his hair spiked around his head like usual, his belt done back up loosely around his hips, the accessory serving no real purpose other than to watch the way your mouth watered when he tugged it free from the loops. shaking your head, you dropped the thought of his thick fingers around the leather, instead leaning closer to the mirror when you smacked your lips together, your thoughts of him interrupted by katsuki's gravelly voice, “you should head down first.”

your gaze flicked back over to his, he looked as if nothing had changed between his arrival and now, minus his stained, swollen lips, the same couldn’t be said about you, reaching under the sink to search for your lipstick, hoping the cute tone could save you. rubbing the colour onto your lips with your ring finger, you admired the same colour still on katsuki’s jaw, running your fingers over your hair when you were satisfied, you hummed in agreement, “yeah, i’ll go get the cake ready, you’ll come down in two?”

you did a quick twirl, waiting for his approval on your state, his eyes raking over you to make sure your skirt was over your ass, your shirt back in place, and your face clean of lipstick, spit and cum.

“i look alright?”“wouldn’t fuck you if you didn’t, sweetheart.” you rolled your eyes at his teasing, like a switch for his cockiness was flicked back to on, a proud smirk painted on his face, carmine eyes already feeling like he was trying to see through your clothes to the skin beneath, a signature expression around you. he doesn’t move when you shove his shoulder, your uneven movements barely even disturbing a hair on his head when you stumble past him to exit the cramped bathroom, alcohol and adrenaline swimming in your veins making each step downstairs wobbly.

with a lasting stare down at you, mostly watching the way your hips move from side to side, vermillion eyes locked onto a single wet spot on your skirt, the patch easily explained away if anyone could see straight enough to ask you about it, he could already hear your sweet voice now excusing it, “the sink splashed back at me!”, or “ugh, i knocked my drink over when i was fixing my lipstick.”, sure your friends would believe either excuse without a second thought before realising the truth of the spot. katsuki only turns back around to face the mirror when he can’t see you anymore, roughly rubbing at the blooms of colour on the underside of his jaw. he does little more than smudge the pigment around, the colour now covering his fingers and in patchy lines than in the clean kiss marks they were when you’d first locked the door. satisfied he was as clean as he was going to get it, he turned back around, swinging open the door to follow you out.

hearing your laughter in the living room, katsuki makes his way down, sauntering down the stairs far slower than you had, turning left at the end where you swivelled right, circling around to the kitchen from behind, second nature to him at this point to cover his tracks without even needing to think about it. rounding the corner into the kitchen, katsuki’s eyes found you again, drawn to you, a need panging deep in his stomach watching your skirt swish around your thighs as you twirled around in the kitchen, spinning a final time to walk a cake over to eijiro, his name messily written in red icing underneath too many burning candles. you placed it at the head of the table, gently setting it down in front of him, the birthday boy drunk and oblivious to where you and his best friend had disappeared to for the last twenty minutes, even more oblivious to the evidence still on your skirt and low on your throat when he smiled sweetly up at you.

“happy birthday, baby, make a wish!” you plant a kiss on your boyfriends cheek, transferring your fresh lipstick in a perfect kiss stain, identical to the ones katsuki just finished ruining, eijiro slurring back his affection with a bright, lovestruck smile, “i’ve got everythin’ i need with you, baby.”

© all works belong to @k-atsukibakugou, @gwen0m, and dlirious on archive of our own, do not plagiarise, translate, repost or recommend my work on other platforms or translate my works, i do not give permission for my works to be bound and sold. 18+ minors and ageless blogs do not interact.

#dividers by me #k-atsukibakugou #tw: alcohol #tw: cheating #bakugou x reader #bakugo x reader #bakugou katsuki x reader #bakugo katsuki x reader #katsuki bakugou x reader #katsuki bakugo x reader #bakugou smut #bakugo smut #「kat <3」#「mercury writes」

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tsunami-of-tears · 22 days

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Healing Hands

Poly+ ACOTAR Week 2024 - Day 2 (Comfort)

Cazriel x Healer Reader

Summary: When Azriel and Cassian require healing, they can always rely on their friend, Y/N, to help them out.

Pairing Masterlist

Wordcount: 1.6K

Warnings: injury/illness; slight angst; mostly fluff.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *

Reader

When you first saw Azriel, cloaked in shadows, you thought death had finally come for you.

Instead, he offered you a new chance at life.

You couldn't help but develop a little crush. Gods, he was so handsome. Attractive and kind - you were done for.

And then there was Cassian. He was so easy to get along with, the two of you were fast friends, especially with the amount of injuries the male received.

You wondered if he was doing it on purpose, as a way to spend more time with you. You shake your head, trying to rid the thought from your mind. ‘Don’t be silly, why would he do that when his job requires him to be in peak physical condition?’

You managed to stay professional, for the most part. Cassian made it very hard with all of his flirting. You quickly realised it helped to take his mind off the pain while you were healing him. So, taking a holistic approach, you joined in on his games to help him through it.

Azriel, on the other hand, was always on his best behaviour. You got to see a side of him that’s usually kept hidden behind his shadows. A soft side. The two of you would talk and talk while you patched him up. You’d chat about everything, new books, music, that new bakery by the Sidra that made the most divine cakes…

Getting on with Cassian and Azriel was easy. What wasn’t easy was battling your growing feelings for both of them.

————

You’re working on restocking your salves and tonics, humming a song from your village as you grind magical herbs together. You’re interrupted by a sharp knock on the door. “Come in,” you say cheerily, stepping away from the work to greet your visitor.

The door opens and Cassian enters your small clinic with a bright pink nose and red, puffy eyes. “Y/N, I think I’m dying,” he sniffles.

You move closer and press your hand against Cassian’s forehead, letting your powers diagnose him.

“I’ve seen you with far worse ailments than allergies, Cassian.”

“You try not being able to breathe and see how you like it,” he responds.

“Take a seat, I was just finishing up a tonic that will help.” You gesture towards the stool on the other side of your workstation and you go back to mixing the tonic. Cassian watches you working in unusual silence. The only sounds in the room are the grinding of your mortar and pestle and the occasional sneeze.

“Remind me to stock up on this if we ever visit Spring,” you smile, handing Cassian the glass vial. He downs the amber liquid in one big gulp. Within minutes his symptoms start to wane. Cassian stands and lifts you into a big hug, spinning you around.

“Thank you, you’re a lifesaver, Y/N.” Cassian beams, planting a loud kiss on the top of your head as he sets you on your feet.

You laugh in response to his affection. “It’s nothing,” you say.

You both turn at the sound of a male cough. “I hope I’m not interrupting anything,” Azriel drawls.

“Just saving Cassian’s life. Again,” you wink.

“Thanks again Y//N.” Cassian kisses you on the cheek on his way out of the clinic, leaving you alone with the shadow singer.

You scan Azriel’s face. He’s got dark circles under his eyes and a haunted look on his face.

“What can I help you with, Az?” you ask.

“Just some scrapes, I’ve become such a baby since you’ve been around,” he smiles but it doesn't quite reach his eyes.

“It’s always my pleasure to help.” You turn to look through your jars of salves, grabbing one with numbing properties.

You turn towards Azriel, motioning for him to take a seat. You grab his hand, your powers doing a quick scan - you can sense he has some minor scraps on his knuckles, but he’s also got something wrong in his chest - your powers can't quite determine what it is.

You do your best to keep the concern from your face as you start to work the salve into his knuckles. Azriel shuts his eyes as you massage his hands.

“Az,” you say softly, approaching the topic hesitantly, “is there anything else I should know about?”

He opens his eyes, looking into yours, “like what? I’m fine,” he says.

“You haven't had any pain elsewhere?” You push.

“No, why would I?”

“Well, I don't want to alarm you but my magic has never been wrong before. It’s detected something other than these scrapes…” You point towards his chest, right over his heart, “There’s something wrong here.”

Azriel exhales through his nose, “Oh, that. It’s nothing I can’t handle.’”

You frown at the male, sighing. Illyrians were a stubborn breed, you decided. “Let me know if there’s anything I can do.”

Azriel nods and leaves your clinic, leaving you wondering what worries plague him and what you can do to help.

————

Azriel continues to mope around for a few days, the dark circles never leaving his face. Not even Mor can get him to smile.

With your worries only increasing, you turn to Rhys and Feyre for some answers.

You explain what you felt to Rhys, that you knew something was wrong but you couldn’t tell what.

Rhys props his chin on his hand pensively, “Azriel has always had his demons, thank you for bringing this to my attention. Just keep monitoring him and try to get him to talk. I know he feels fondly for you, it may just take him time to open up.”

You nod, taking in the High Lord’s words.

Feyre gives you a reassuring shoulder squeeze, “He’ll be alright. He’s got you.”

You give her a meek smile and exit the office, on your way to try and cheer up your friend.

————

“Az!” you call out in the House of Wind, “Where are you?”

He appears down the hall, a flurry of shadows swirling around him and towards you. “Yes, Y/N?”

“Can you please give me a lift to the city? I’ve got a few things to pick up, and I’m craving something from that bakery.”

Azriel nods, “Sure, are you ready to go now?”

“Sure am, lead the way.”

He scoops you up into his arms like he did the day he rescued you and launches into the sky. The wind rushes past your face and you scream out in joy, loving the exhilarating feeling of soaring through the air. You wrap your arms tighters around Azriel’s neck as he starts to descend.

You land and he places you down gently. ‘Thank you, kind sir,” you say, curtsying. Azriel rolls his eyes but can’t fight the smile creeping onto his face.

You grab his hand and break into a skip down the street, triumphant over your small win - getting a grin out of the spymaster.

Azriel follows after you, listening intently as you chatter away animatedly.

As you exit a shop selling different apothecary ingredients you spy a busker on the street playing the fiddle.

“Oh Az, will you dance with me?”

Azriel pauses, observing the crowd before taking your extended hand in his. The two of you dance clumsily in the street, letting the music flow through your body.

As the musician hits the crescendo, Azriel lifts you into the air and spins with you while you laugh loudly and unabashed. When he places you on your feet you notice a small crowd has gathered, they break into applause for both you and the fiddler as the song ends.

You take Azriel’s hand and make him bow with you. He smiles and shakes his head but humours you. You tip the busker generously and give him a small wave as you continue down the street, still holding onto Azriel’s hand.

As you approach your favourite bakery - Azriel’s mood has lightened. You can still feel the pain but it has lessened significantly.

————

With your treats in hand, you make your way to the Sidra and lean against the wrought iron banister edging the river.

Azriel said he’d get whatever you did - so you opted for two huge brownies with a generous dusting of icing sugar on top.

“These look so good,” you gush, grinning madly at Azriel.

The slice of cake is so thick that your nose brushes it as you take a bite. You cover your mouth as you chew and swallow.

“That is amazing,” you moan, turning to Azriel. “How is yours?”

Azriel takes one look at you - with sugar on your nose and chocolate in your teeth and bursts into a deep laugh.

“It’s brilliant, but how have you already made such a mess?”

“What do you mean?” You ask, “Is there something on my face?”

“Here let me.” He reaches up and brushes your nose softly, wiping away the sugar. “It’s still all in your teeth though.”

“I’m saving that for later,” you say with a wink and the two of you burst out laughing again.

Standing so close to Azriel, you can’t help but admire his gorgeous face. And his eyes - there are less shadows in them.

“Thank you for today,” Azriel says quietly, brushing a stray hair out of your face. “You’re good at that.”

“Good at what?”

“Knowing what I need.” He smiles, “Come on,” he beckons with his head, “Let's get back home before you make more of a mess of yourself.”

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *

Tags ♡ @littlestw01f @impossibelle @dream-alittlebiggerdarling @the-wall-willow @xasael @lilah-asteria @saltedcoffeescotch @mybestfriendmademe

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