#how to use wax melts without burner

[rosemaryhelenxo]

Discover the Magic of Devon Wick Soy Wax Melts: Handmade, Vegan-Friendly, and Perfect for Every Season | Review

Looking for handmade, vegan-friendly soy wax melts, combined with a wide array of seasonal and classic scents?? I've got you covered! Rose xo

If you’re on a quest for captivating home fragrances, look no further than Devon Wick’s soy wax melts. As a loyal fan, I can confidently say these are my favourite soy wax scents, and once you try them, you’ll understand why! Each soy wax melt from Devon Wick is crafted by a dedicated small team in the heart of Devon. This ensures that every product is infused with care and quality. Their…

[yournightmary]

Loser!Ellie HCs

content warning:: fem!reader, modern!AU

AN:: first time writing, literally scared shitless🔥 english isn’t my native language🙏

⇢ ˗ˏˋ loser!Ellie who made a pasta recipe once (probably from instagram reels), and became a self-appointed master chef. Forgot about the fact that it took her 3 tries to even cook the pasta.

⇢ ˗ˏˋ loser!Ellie who can’t stop saying flavor instead of scent. She just genuinely doesn’t see the difference.

“What flavor do you want?” she asks you while holding up two colorful packs of wax melts. She bought a wax burner and used it to melt chocolate so she can have chocolate covered fruit anytime she wants. Used it 2 times total.

⇢ ˗ˏˋ loser!Ellie who vapes. I’m sorry but that’s the truth. She just loves to puff on her cute little mixed berries disposable. Also, keeps saying she can quit anytime she wants, she can’t.

⇢ ˗ˏˋ loser!Ellie who uses axe body spray. If someone asks about it she just says it works better, but she actually likes the scent. Kind of her guilty pleasure.

⇢ ˗ˏˋ loser!Ellie who hated on the sims franchise her whole life only to find out you’re a fan. She pirated the whole series (DLCs and all) off of some russian website in one night. Got like 20 different viruses but at least her girl could play the sims 2 happily.

⇢ ˗ˏˋ loser!Ellie who is terrible at foreign languages yet has a duolingo streak that over 500 days. She knows how to say ‘the apple is red’ in german and can barely pronounce her order in mexican restaurants.

⇢ ˗ˏˋ loser!Ellie who is chronically online. Constantly posting shit to her insta stories, sending you tik toks 24/7 and all that stuff. One time she got so invested in a facebook group drama that she didn’t reply to your texts for the whole day.

⇢ ˗ˏˋ loser!Ellie who wears the most unfunny-funny shirts you can imagine. Stuff like ‘women want me, fish fear me’ and ‘eat, sleep, game, repeat’. And they’re always either way too big or way too small.

⇢ ˗ˏˋ loser!Ellie who always said she doesn’t want any pets, that it’s too much of a commitment for her… Then she found the ugliest kitten she’s ever seen on the street and took it home without thinking. Let you choose the name but calls him ‘stinky’ no matter what. Like mother, like daughter.

⇢ ˗ˏˋ loser!Ellie who couldn’t tie her shoes until she was 15. That’s it.

⇢ ˗ˏˋ loser!Ellie who is so lovestruck for you that I can’t even explain it. She’ll always do the cheesiest things possible, like standing before your house with roses, a bluetooth speaker and a promposal poster or bringing you every little thing she found on her walk that ‘reminded her of you’.

⇢ ˗ˏˋ loser!Ellie who doesn’t like to go out on dates. She’d rather stay at home with you, watch a movie, make dinner together (you’ll be the only one actually cooking), maybe paint something or just spend time together doing nothing… Would really enjoy a date at the planetarium though.

⇢ ˗ˏˋ loser!Ellie who is a total yapper. Can and will talk about anything and everything for hours on end. And if you mention an interest of hers? Oh god, get ready to see a powerpoint presentation about it. Literally the definition of ‘☝️🤓’ but in a good way.

I’m so scared to post this it’s not even funny☠️ Hope you liked it <3

[wixandcind0]

The Ultimate Guide to Wax Melts and Burners: Everything You Need to Know

Wax melts and burners have become a popular choice for home fragrance enthusiasts looking for an alternative to traditional candles. They offer a safe, long-lasting, and customizable way to fill your space with delightful aromas. In this guide, we’ll explore everything you need to know about wax melts and burners, including their benefits, how to use them, and tips for choosing the best options.

What Are Wax Melts?

Wax melts are small, scented pieces of wax that release fragrance when heated. Unlike candles, wax melts don’t have a wick; instead, they are melted using a wax burner. These melts are available in various shapes, colors, and fragrances, making them a versatile and fun way to enhance your home’s ambiance.

What Is a Wax Burner?

A wax burner is a device used to heat wax melts and diffuse their fragrance into the air. There are two main types of wax burners:

Electric Wax Burners – These plug into an electrical outlet and use a heating element to melt the wax.

Tealight Wax Burners – These use a small tealight candle placed underneath a dish to heat the wax.

Benefits of Using Wax Melts and Burners

Flame-Free Option – Electric wax burners eliminate the risk of an open flame, making them a safer choice.

Long-Lasting Fragrance – Wax melts tend to last longer than candles because they don’t burn away, only releasing their scent as they melt.

Affordable & Customizable – You can mix different wax melt scents to create your own unique fragrance blends.

Eco-Friendly Options – Many wax melts are made from soy or beeswax, making them a more sustainable option.

How to Use Wax Melts and Burners

Choose Your Wax Melts – Select a fragrance that suits your mood or the season.

Place the Wax Melt in the Burner – Add one or two wax melt pieces to the dish of your wax burner.

Turn On the Burner or Light a Tealight – If using an electric burner, simply switch it on. For tealight burners, light the candle underneath.

Enjoy the Aroma – The wax will slowly melt, releasing a wonderful fragrance throughout your space.

Replace When Needed – Once the scent fades, remove the old wax and replace it with a fresh wax melt.

Tips for Choosing the Best Wax Melts and Burners

Opt for Natural Wax – Soy or beeswax melts are better for indoor air quality than paraffin-based melts.

Check the Burner’s Size – Ensure your wax burner has a dish large enough for your preferred wax melts.

Experiment with Scents – Try different fragrances or mix and match for a personalized aroma experience.

Look for Quality Ingredients – High-quality, essential oil-based wax melts provide a cleaner and more authentic scent.

Final Thoughts

Wax melts and burners offer a convenient and safe way to enjoy delightful home fragrances without the risks associated with candles. With a wide variety of scents and styles available, you can easily find options that suit your personal preferences. Whether you prefer floral, fruity, or woody scents, wax melts are a fantastic way to create a cozy and inviting atmosphere in your home.

Start exploring different wax melts and burners today and discover your favorite scent combinations!

[cha2sourcing]

Elevating Your Senses: A Guide to Incense Wood Chips and Candle Warmers

Fragrance has a profound impact on our environment and emotions, influencing our mood and creating ambiance. Whether you prefer the ancient ritual of burning incense or the comforting glow of a candle, there are various ways to enjoy your favorite scents. Let's explore the captivating world of incense wood chips and the modern convenience of candle warmers.

Incense Wood Chips: Experiencing Nature's Pure Aromas

Incense Wood Chips offer a unique and authentic way to experience the natural fragrances of aromatic woods. These small pieces of wood, such as sandalwood, cedarwood, palo santo, and agarwood, are burned to release their natural oils and create a fragrant smoke that fills your space with earthy and captivating scents. Unlike incense sticks or cones that often contain binders and other ingredients, wood chips provide a more pure and natural fragrance experience.

Benefits of Incense Wood Chips:

Authentic Fragrance: Enjoy the true essence of aromatic woods without any added ingredients.

Variety of Scents: Explore a wide range of fragrant woods, each with its unique aroma and properties.

Customizable Intensity: Control the intensity of the fragrance by adjusting the amount of wood chips used.

Sustainable Choice: Many wood chips are sourced from sustainably harvested trees, making them an environmentally friendly option.

How to Use Incense Wood Chips:

Choose a Heat-Resistant Burner: Use a heat-resistant burner or censer specifically designed for burning incense.

Heat Source: Use charcoal discs as a heat source for burning wood chips. Light the charcoal and allow it to heat up until it glows red.

Add Wood Chips: Once the charcoal is ready, sprinkle a small amount of wood chips on top. The heat will gently release the fragrant smoke.

Candle Warmers: A Safe and Flameless Fragrance Experience

Candle Warmers offer a modern and safe alternative to traditional candle burning. These electric devices gently warm the candle from below or above, melting the wax and releasing the fragrance without burning the wick.

Benefits of Candle Warmers:

Safety: Eliminate the risk of fire hazards associated with open flames, making them a safer option for homes with children or pets.

Extended Candle Life: By melting the wax without burning the wick, candle warmers can significantly extend the life of your candles.

Consistent Fragrance: Enjoy a consistent and even fragrance experience without the fluctuations that can occur with a flickering flame.

Clean Burning: Prevent soot and smoke from forming, keeping your home cleaner and your air fresher.

Candle Wax Warmer & Melter: Designed for Wax Melts

Candle Wax Warmer & Melter are specifically designed to melt scented wax melts or tarts. These devices typically consist of a dish or bowl that holds the wax and a heating element that melts the wax from below. Some models may also include a built-in warmer for jar candles.

Choosing the Right Candle Warmer:

Consider Your Needs: Determine whether you primarily use jar candles or wax melts to choose the appropriate warmer.

Size and Style: Select a warmer that complements your home décor and fits comfortably in your desired space.

Features: Look for features like adjustable temperature settings, timers, and automatic shut-off for added convenience and safety.

Creating Your Aromatic Sanctuary

Whether you prefer the ancient tradition of incense wood chips or the modern convenience of candle warmers, there are numerous ways to enhance your aromatic experience. Explore different scents, experiment with blends, and create a fragrant haven that promotes relaxation, well-being, and a sense of tranquility.

[sassyshopwaxltd]

Melt to Unwind: Transforming Your Space with Electric Wax Melt Burners

Are you tired of coming home to a space without that inviting, cosy aroma? Do you dream of creating an ambience that looks great and smells fantastic? Well, it's time to discover the secret to transforming your space into a haven of relaxation and rejuvenation. In this post, we will delve into the world of electric wax melt burners and home fragrance sprays. So, let's dive in!

Electric Wax Melt Burners: Igniting the Senses

-         Unleashing Aromatherapy in Your Home

Electric wax melt burners are not just decorative pieces but the gateway to a world of captivating scents. These devices work by gently melting scented wax, releasing its fragrance into the air. It's like a spa day for your senses right in the comfort of your home.

How Do They Work? It's simple. Plug in your electric wax melt burner, place a scented wax cube in the dish, turn it on, and watch as the wax gradually liquefies. As it does, it releases its mesmerising aroma into the room. It is a safer alternative to traditional candles, as there's no open flame involved.

-         The Magic of Customization

One of the most fantastic aspects of electric wax melt burners is the ability to mix and match scents. Want to create a calming lavender and vanilla blend for your bedroom? Or perhaps a zesty citrus fusion for the kitchen? You're in control! Combine wax cubes to curate your personalised fragrance profile.

Home Fragrance Spray: Instant Atmosphere Enhancement

-         Spray Your Way to a Delightful Home

Home fragrance sprays are the secret weapon for instant atmosphere enhancement. They are a quick and efficient way to infuse any space with a burst of delightful fragrance. Unlike electric wax melt burners, which require a bit of time to work their magic, a home fragrance spray offers an instantaneous fragrance boost.

-         Versatility in a Bottle

These sprays come in a wide array of scents, from soothing lavender to refreshing citrus. They can be used virtually anywhere, from your living room to your linens. A quick spray can transform your environment and elevate your mood. Keep a bottle in your bag and spritz it in your office, car, or any room that needs a pick-me-up.

Creating the Perfect Atmosphere: Combining Burners and Sprays

●     The Ultimate Synergy

For the ultimate olfactory experience, why not combine electric wax melt burners and home fragrance sprays? Use the burner to establish a consistent base aroma in a room, and then use the spray to add an extra burst of freshness whenever you desire. This combination allows you to create a dynamic and ever-changing atmosphere in your home.

●     Harmonising Scents

Choose fragrance sprays that complement the wax melts you use to ensure your scents harmonise. For example, if you have a vanilla-scented wax in your burner, a vanilla-scented spray will create a seamless transition when you use the spray.

The Bottom Line: Aromatherapy at Your Fingertips

With their versatility, safety, and customization options, you have the power to transform your space into a fragrant haven with electric wax melt burners and home fragrance sprays. So, why wait? Plug in that burner, grab your favourite spray, and let the aromatherapy journey begin. Your senses will thank you, and your home will never have felt so inviting.

[maeve-an-bhanchainti]

broke witch tips, from someone who was once that 17 year old blossoming witch hiding from their parents & couldn't afford fancy ritual tools:

1. need specific colored candles? tea lights are 24 for 1$ at the Dollar Tree and a pack of rainbow sharpies is also 1$, just scribble on the outside of them or draw sigils in the color you need.

2. a slender dry twig off of a pine tree makes a nice incense stick. plus mosquitoes hate it and it smells like camping.

3. always save your melted candle wax to make candles for future rituals. this is just common sense

4. can't afford all these dig dang crystals? most of them are unethically sourced anyway, use those shiny smooth fish tank rocks or smooth broken glass you find outside (pls be careful). you could also make them out of clay. they can mean what you decide they mean because you decided it

5. my first athame was a neat twisted branch i whittled into a double edged blade with a semi-dull potato peeler and it took 0 skill or patience (thank god). then I got grounded asf for murdering the potato peeler.

6. using white sage to cleanse is *usually* appropriative, plus it faces endangerment risk! but I guarantee your parent/guardian/grandma has some dried rosemary in the spice cabinet that's been there since you were born.

7. essential oils aren't for everyone, they can cause allergic reactions and they're fucking expensive. depending on what you're using them for, you might be able to substitute with holy water, which most catholic churches will give you for free if you can enter without spontaneously combusting

8. most of my incense burners over the years have been shells ive found at the beach, but I live on the east coast. if you don't live near a beach, this isnt very helpful and I'm sorry. anyway you can also use it as a mortar and pestle.

9. are you one of those witches with your shit together who actually changes your altar cloth every sabbat? are you tired of how fucking expensive they are? Walmart has fabric swatches for 97 cents that are a little bigger than a bandanna, with all their sewing stuff. many many colors and patterns. I feel morally obligated to tell you to steal it anyway because fuck Walmart be gay do crime etc

[dudesweetfood]

Candle care

HOW TO BURN YOUR CANDLE

1. Light your candle in a well-ventilated room, away from drafts or fans, which can cause sooting (black marks on the vessel), or rapid, uneven burning. 2. Burn regular-sized candles for one and a half to two hours at a time or until the wax has pooled to the edges. Burning for less time can cause the candle to 'tunnel', which leaves a build-up of wax around the vessel's sides and can reduce the maximum burn time. Burning for longer periods (over four hours) can cause the wick to move, or slant. Gin and tonic candle is a great idea for a gift. 3. Make sure you stop burning your candle when 10mm of wax remains at the bottom, keeping an eye on a burning candle when the wax is low.Fun fact: Your candle has a memory. The wax will only melt as far as it did the first time you burned the candle. So, if you don't melt the entire top layer of wax on your first burn, the candle will tunnel its entire life. To prevent this, candles should burn one hour for every inch in diameter. For example, if a candle is three inches across, it should burn for three hours to melt the top layer evenly. While the first burn is most important, you should strive for an even burn every time — both to avoid tunneling and to achieve the best smell.Candle burns evenly all the way to the end. When the candle is finished, clean it and reuse it, keeping the recycling going. Alternatively you can reuse the jar  and if there's a bit of wax stuck in the bottom stick it in the freezer. Once the wax is rock-solid, you should be able to stab it with a butter knife and pull the remaining chunk right out. Then you've got a lovely receptacle!📷HOW TO USE CANDLES SAFELY Make sure you put out any candles, incense and oil burners when you leave the room and especially before bed.

These items should always be held firmly in heat-resistant holders and placed on a stable surface where they won’t be knocked over. Keep them away from materials that might catch fire – that's things like curtains, furniture, clothes and hair. Be especially careful if you have a lot of flammable items in your home, like collections of books, magazines or papers. Be aware that tea lights get very hot and without proper holders can melt through plastic surfaces like a TV or bath. To avoid accidents keep candles and other naked flames out of reach of children and pets.

Suffolk candles

[waxmelts1-blog]

Why Should You Use Wax Melts?

Wax melts are very easy to use. You simply take your wax melt and place one or more in your warmer or melter and then light your tea light or turn on your heat warmer if it is electric. When you are finished using them, you just turn off or remove the heat source, and the wax will solidify until you are ready to use it again. When you are ready to use it again, just turn the warmer back on or light the tea light.

If you still use candles to give your home fragrance, you probably don't know how dangerous they are. You should use wax melts instead. Why? Read below to find out.

Cheaper

You should use wax melts because they are cheaper and require fewer materials than candles. Generally speaking, candles and melts require wax as well as other things, such as fragrance oil and possibly some sort of colour. But candles also require a container and a wick. Both of which can add a substantial amount to the cost. A glass container for a candle is inevitably going to be more costly than a wax melt that’s been popped out of a mould or stored in a clamshell.

Flame-free

Fires due to candles caused property damages worth millions, according to statistics. Decorative candles are cute, but the exposed flame poses a risk of catching something else on fire by accident. While candles require a flame, you can buy warmers that only require electricity from a wax melts UK based seller. Scented wax melts, tarts, or cubes are warmed via an electric wax melt warmer usually containing a small light bulb or built-in ceramic heater that is located inside the warmers. The built-in heater is just enough heat to warm the wax melts, tarts, or cubes, releasing the scent in as little as 5-10 minutes!

More convenient

Wax melts UK based sellers can offer you wax melt bars and warmers that you can use in places where you can't use candles. Wax melting is also highly revered by parents who are wary of having children around an open flame. They are convenient because there is no requirement for a lighter or matches, and the wax melts themselves are compact and usually come in a packed box or bag for storage. They come in cubes, squares, and other shapes, making them easy to break apart and transport. When you want your space to smell amazing for long periods, drop a wax melt into the wax melt burners and forget about it! Wax melts can last anywhere from 8 hours to 2 days!

More environment-friendly

Glass is exceptionally long-lasting. It can take up to 1 million years for glass to decompose. As many as 28 billion glass containers are discarded in the environment’s landfills each year. One way to help preserve the environment is to use less glass. Wax melt warmers are extremely durable and can last four to six years on average with proper care. If you opt for wax melt warmers instead of traditional candle jars, you could contribute to saving the environment huge amounts of garbage—fantastic!

Wax melting is fun!

You can make kids interested in science using a wax melt. Let them watch the melt change from solid wax to liquid wax and then harden as it cools! Wax melting can also be fun for adults. Wax melts are often used to blend into new aromas. For instance, if you have a eucalyptus melt and a sinus relief wax melt, you may want to place one-quarter of each into your warmer to create a great mint scent perfect for stuffy noses. Apple and vanilla would make a sweet apple pie a la mode. You can be very creative with melts, and fragrance intensity can often be managed. A little or a lot! It’s your choice. You’re the boss.

Now that you know why you should use wax melts instead of candles, you need to buy them from sellers who handmade their own. This way, you can ensure the quality of the wax melt you'll buy.

Moreover, scented wax cubes don't drip, unlike candles, so all of the melted wax stays in the warmer. Once the cube has melted and cooled, you just have to pop the hard wax out of the warmer and throw it out; the scent will be gone, so you can't reuse it. Many sellers who create these products claim that fewer chemicals are emitted into the air because the scent is released without a flame or mess. Therefore, use wax melts instead of candles.

[nimblermortal]

@icryyoumercy, with thanks for deciphering that one passage of Beowulf for me, your ‘drabble’ turned into 4,981 words

@ everyone else, please correct me if I am wrong about things like which Chinese novel I’m talking about or the theology of Arabic linguistic evolution.

The urge was growing in Nicolò’s fingers on the plane to Chicago, but it wasn’t until he was looking through Nile’s mother’s kitchen cabinets that Nicolò recognized it for the bread craving it was. He always baked when they were in a new place - bread was how you knew someone lived somewhere - but he also baked for understanding his life and others’, and between that and… well, he couldn’t say he disliked the contents of the Freeman kitchen, he adored modern convenience and salt and fat and protein and immigrant cuisine, and would gladly wax rhapsodic about Ragu and instant ramen if given half a chance and his pick of languages to do it in - but the Freeman kitchen was very clearly that of a single mother who worked nights, and Nicolò needed food that took work. So as they were walking down the front steps of Nile’s house, Nicolò turned to Yusuf and said, “I’ll take watch if you’ll -“ “Bread? On it, love,” said Yusuf. Now that they weren’t performing, they were back to their own pidgin of Ligurian, Arabic, and Latin - as if the pidgin could form a wall between them and the absence of Liber. “You found us a place with a kitchen?” Yusuf only answered that one with a wounded look, as if he would bed Nicolò down for two weeks without a kitchen. But he didn’t peel off immediately to hunt down whatever cooking store he had searched up. Most of Yusuf’s cut from jobs went to kitchen goods; most of Nicolò’s went to art supplies. Treasures they brought back to the other as if they needed to prove their affection still, abandoned at each successive safehouse. The attraction of Goussainville was - had been - the cups with chips in them, the crack down Nicolò’s favorite mixing bowl. Things they had had long enough to damage. Things Nicolò did not want to go back to now. “It’s vacation,” said Yusuf. “Rest, relax.” “We just had a year of vacation,” Nicolò complained. “I want to bake bread.” “Very well,” said Yusuf, and then he did disappear into the crowd. Nicolò tried not to watch him go; it would have been suspicious, while Yusuf was disappearing.

He came back, as he always did on such ventures, while Nicolò was rearranging the contents of the kitchen they’d rented. (The spatulas had been across the kitchen from the stove, far enough that even Nicolò could not reach them one-handed. It was an abomination, and someone would spend decades in Purgatory for this.) “I brought you a gun,” he said, which was not how he announced it when he had obtained a real gun for Nicolò. Nicolò pursed his lips faintly in question, and Yusuf laughed, trying to balance all of the bags he’d brought back on the counter. “There,” he said when he was done, fishing around in one, and brought out a yellow thing like a construction toy. “It fires lasers.” “That is the shortest shotgun I have ever seen,” Nicolò said solemnly, and took it from him. There was a screen at the back that stayed obstinately blank as Nicolò swept the room with it, trigger finger resting alongside the body of the gun since he had no intention of shooting anyone just yet. There was also a tag, but reading that would have been cheating. With a frown, he pointed it at his foot and squeezed the trigger. The screen lit up at around ninety. When he fired aimlessly into the room, it dropped by twenty. He looked up. Yusuf was watching him with interest and smothered laughter. Nicolò shot him right between the eyes. “Ninety nine,” he declared on inspection. “Do you want to lay down and I’ll get you some tea for your fever? What is the function of this object?” “It tells you whether things are done cooking without having to pierce it with needles or fumble it out and juggle it while you knock on the crust or open the oven door and have your soufflé fall.” “Hm,” said Nicolò speculatively, and left it on the counter where he would remember to try it later and decide what he thought of it, or determine its range and accuracy. Nile would probably agree to standing by the stove and keeping a pot of water just barely boiling so he could calibrate the accuracy at varying distances, but she was busy doing something with her brother that involved one of those televisor screens and a lot of leaning and screaming at each other. “What else did you bring me?” “Just your usual,” Yusuf replied, pulling things out of bags and finding cupboard space for them. After this many years, he could put them where Nicolò would look for them in any kitchen. When Nicolò brought out a pan and started pouring milk into it, Yusuf frowned. “Are you not planning to sleep tonight?” he asked. Nicolò shrugged. It was dark outside already. “I’ll keep watch,” he said, and gestured to the far end of the counter, where neither of them had let any bags come close to the little pink walkie-talkie Nile had leant them when she realized burner phones were not going to cut it for their twenty-four-hour surveillance plan. “I’ll be cold without you,” Yusuf warned him. “You’ve been cold before,” said Nicolò. He stirred the milk. Heat it slow, for sweetness. He had all the time in the world. “Go to bed. It’s not necessary for both of us to be tired tomorrow.” Yusuf hummed thoughtfully and kicked at his own heel. He was thinking about luring Nicolò into bed, what tricks he might apply to convince Nicolò to sleep instead of starting bread to rise. Nicolò hooked a foot lovingly around his ankle and swept. Yusuf unthinkingly shifted his weight and lifted the foot out of the way. “I’m not upset. Just antsy. Let me make this place home,” Nicolò said. He didn’t sweep Yusuf unless both of them were feeling safe. It had become an unspoken rule of their relationship, a declaration of honesty that, honestly, reflected what they had seen from Andromache and Quynh. When they had been hoping for something half so honest for themselves. Yusuf registered his protest by making calming mint tea for the both of them while Nicolò emptied grains into containers, and leaving the tea where Nicolò would drink it. The tea had been a recent ritual, only a couple of hundred years old, something Yusuf clung to to attach him to a regional identity that had superseded what he had grown up in. Nicolò had quietly adopted it as a way of laying claim to his identity as Yusuf’s husband. He let Yusuf make it this time, and made a point of sipping it before Yusuf left the room. And then he was alone with the kitchen, to make this stopping-place his. He stretched, hands overhead and then locked behind to pull first up, then down. Then he got busy. The milk was soaking over oatmeal - it would probably be softer than he liked, since he’d been so eager to get started, to signal what he was doing. That was all right, it just gave the bread more grain anyway. The yeast didn’t really need proofing, but he set it to do so in the little oven-proof dish Yusuf had brought, because he liked proofing yeast. After this bread was done, he’d take a little malt from the still and start a yeast bath in that dish, and Liber would yell at him for interfering with the fermentation, and - no, Liber wouldn’t yell at him for anything at all, any time soon. He couldn’t say prayers for anyone else, or grant them redemption with a wave of his hand. Perhaps at one point he had been qualified to offer absolution, but there were things for which absolution was not satisfactory, for any party. God was compassionate, was merciful, and the confessional was about one’s own forgiveness, not His. So he took a deep breath and looked for the lard Yusuf had brought him. It was some local vegetable shortening that he had seen in Nile’s mother’s kitchen, that came out white as a meringue but tacky. Another joke or gift from Yusuf, who had listened to Nicolò’s steady muttered encomium on what he had found in that kitchen, the wonders of modern technology, pasta sauce that came in a jar and could be kept at room temperature indefinitely and pasta that set next to it on the shelf and pre-cooked sausages… but he was getting distracted. He poked the lard suspiciously, but it seemed to be all right, and the label promised him it was shortening. So he melted that over the stove, and at least it greased the measuring cup sufficiently that the honey didn’t stick. Water, beaten eggs, salt - salt was so incredibly available these days, it was as much a miracle as the aluminum foil that sat quietly in its rolled box. To think, high-purity aluminum used as a disposable wrapper! Nicolò remembered being awed by the stories of Napoleon permitting his valued guests to eat off aluminum dishes, while the lower benches had to satisfy themselves with golden tableware. Liber had complained for years after he heard that story, and refused to say whether it was because he’d never been offered so much as silverware. Much safer, sturdier, more familiar than any of these was the wooden spoon to mix it with. Classic things. Yusuf liked to bring him gadgets - he still needed to play with that laser gun - but Nicolò was… all right, stodgier. He liked things he could understand. He’d driven Andromache crazy by taking apart the first several guns she brought them, until she gave up and apprenticed him to a gunsmith and he learned to make gunpowder and firing mechanisms and bullets, and eventually decided he knew enough to understand how to fire one. And then had gone through the whole process again when people started making them with rifling, or repeaters. Bread was meditative, was all. It brought back memories. Nicolò had baked a lot of bread, and the smells, even with strange modern flours and ingredients, even the Saxon bread he was making, were familiar and evocative. The stuff in his bowl was a dense, oily liquid, technically homogeneous but the heavier honey wanting to precipitate out of it. He started combining bowls - milk and oats first, then the proofed yeast, and finally flours. That was where it started to get good, where it really started to feel like baking bread. There was a lot of mixing involved, a lot of gradually adding more flour, wheat and white together. That was another strange thing, the way dark flour was valued these days, when throughout his history the white had been prized and saved for lords, the value in the lightness of the crumb. That was home bread for Nicolò, the way flat breads were home for Yusuf. And yet when he came to a new place, he strayed over the border toward the Germanic peoples, the grains darker and more varied, and came up with… this. Strangely Anglo-Saxon bread. Well. It was a joy to knead. The kneading only took a few minutes - eight, or ten. Enough to feel it in the outsides of his arms and start wondering how long it would take, before the dough went stretchy and elastic and the bubbles started to form under the outer edge. That was impossible to explain, the texture of bread when it began to take in air and breath, when it became not just dough but something with skin, something alive. For all the life he had taken, he could give life to this. Yusuf had brought him a special bowl just for rising bread. It was another silly contraption, but a classic one this time; Yusuf had decided that Nicolò must always have a bowl for raising bread. Nicolò spread a bit of oil across the bowl and lowered his dough tenderly into it, the creased side up, because then he slipped his hand under the body of the dough and turned it over so that the oil formed a protective coat. And then he could put a towel over it, and let it rise, and grow. On lazy days, like this, he liked to take it with him where he went, like a baby that might wake if it sensed its parent had left. He hooked it under one arm and went to see what books Yusuf had brought him, and what he might have as a comfort read, a beach read. Yusuf usually got their comfort reads out of the classics section, because things comfortable and familiar to them were old and strange to these modern mayfly people. And unfortunately, in Chicago that meant English. He hated English, with no particular passion except that it was a lingua franca he did not know. Well, and the idioms. And the strange elision of the subjunctive. And of every other familiar signpost at which Nicolò might remember how to decline or conjugate a word. He wasn’t a natural polyglot like Yusuf or Andromache, and he objected to every new language that crossed their path, and why couldn’t things be like Arabic that at least tried to stay the same (in some regions, in some contexts*), or at least why couldn’t people have stuck with writing things down in Latin like they had when Nicolò was a boy and still young enough to catch on to languages decently? If everyone was supposed to be best at learning languages before they turned twenty, how much worse must he be after turning nine hundred and twenty? It wasn’t fair that languages kept changing. He hadn’t had to learn a new language for Liber. Liber had already spoken Latin, and had been huffy about it being the language of education, of books, right up until Yusuf drawled at him in hillbilly Latin he’d learned from Andromache, We can’t all be book learners, and that was that, Sebastien became Liber Discipuli, the educated one. The freedom frighter, and the drinker. How had Nicolò not seen how unhappy he was? But he wasn’t here to think about Liber, so he picked something older than Liber was. Dream of the Red Chamber. They’d been in China when it was written, and like the rest of the country they had played at adding chapters of their own**. Some of them had made it into the modern version, and he liked to play at guessing which bits were whose, now that he could no longer remember. It was a bit of fluff and nonsense, but it was something where he could find his friends in its pages. Yusuf and still-grieving Andromache, laughing at life and its meaning, before Liber had ever been a part of their company. Yusuf was curled up in the bed, wound tighter than he was when he had Nicolò to curl around. He only partially woke up when he felt Nicolò join him in bed, moaning protest slightly at the light and pressure before he felt the bowl against his side and curled around it, managing to look sarcastic even in his sleep. They had shared a bed like this many times before: Nicolò sitting up to read or keep watch, Yusuf curled toward his side, the bread in a bowl between them rising from their shared warmth. Yusuf curled a hand around a fistful of Nicolò’s shirt and seemed content with that; Nicolò luxuriated in clear, steady modern light, and held the book one-handed, the other absent-mindedly threading through Yusuf’s curls, and checking once a chapter to see if the bread had started to nudge the towel aside yet. When it did, he set the book aside and nudged Yusuf awake. “Gnnngghh,” said Yusuf. “I’m going to depress the bread,” Nicolò said. Yusuf made another outraged, sleepy noise, and Nicolò waited for him, one hand on the back of his neck. Yusuf liked to watch Nicolò press rising bread dough down, had liked it since he had watched Nicolò in a heated debate with a monk a few decades ago, arguing about whether the way one treated yeast was any fair reflection of the way one treated mankind. It had been a silly argument, but Nicolò liked silly arguments sometimes, small things to get fully emotionally invested in; and this monk was willing to argue it with him in Latin, in which he could express himself properly. Liber had bet Nicolò that he knew more about bread than the monk, and then had the gall to roll his eyes when they got into an argument and forced him to adjudicate it. Yusuf struggled awake and his eyes started to uncross, to focus and take in the light, and Nicolò’s book, and the bread rising between them. “You’re going to press it down?” he asked in Arabic. Nicolò nodded, and Yusuf propped himself up on an elbow. Nicolò reached over and folded the cloth back as if it covered a baby or a sacrament on an altar, but when he spread his hand over the risen dough and began to press, he watched Yusuf’s eyes. As much as Yusuf liked to watch Nicolò be gentle with the bread, Nicolò liked to watch him watch, to see moment when his eyes rounded and every bit of tension went out of his body and he became limp with love. It was only a few seconds, and then Nicolò had to get up and deal with the bread, but he pressed a kiss to Yusuf’s temple first. “You torture me,” Yusuf grumbled, or Nicolò suspected this was what he said, blurred as it was with sleepiness. “If you would stop baking at night, I could write you the poem you deserve…” “Go back to sleep,” Nicolò told him, but Yusuf was already sinking down and pulling the covers over his head. Nicolò took the bread rising bowl (still a ridiculous idea), switched out the light, and went back into the kitchen. The first thing he did was check the walkie-talkie, as if it could have left some message. Nile would not thank him for waking her if he tried to send a message to her now, but if she were in real trouble she would not have stopped buzzing him for help. Or he liked to think so, and not about gas and grenades in the night and waking up helpless in a van… The bread needed tending. He tipped it out onto its floured surface and let it rest, puttering about the kitchen and cleaning implements while he waited. Baking bread did take quite a number of dishes, and he was done at least with the mixing bowl and the rising bowl now. He found the temperature gun while he was putzing, and shot the bread dough with it, but it didn’t register as any temperature higher than the rest of the room. He shrugged, set it down again, and set about the business of separating the bread into two loaves, folding them over until they were loaf shaped, brushing them with milk as if he could brush away any remaining unpleasant thoughts that way, and sprinkling them with flakes of barley. He had told Yusuf over and over that he could bake with whatever grains were convenient, that the oats that went into the bread were fine as a topping, and still every time Yusuf came back with barley flakes, would spend an extra hour combing the city for them as if they were the only grain that would do. As if the barley scattered over the top meant anything, except that he was fond of Nicolò, and even when he was sleeping Nicolò could feel his love just looking at those loaves. He twitched the towel over them to stop the smile growing at the corner of his mouth. It had some sort of novelty slogan on it, and he could tell by the pattern that it was probably cute, but he didn’t feel like reading the English just now. Yusuf could tell him what it said in the morning, or Andromache more likely - she would tease him when she found the bread. He took the walkie-talkie with him to the bedroom this time, just in case, and climbed back into bed with Yusuf to read. Yusuf felt the depression in the bed and rolled nearer, draped an arm over him and groaned something unintelligible in any language. Nicolò patted his shoulder and told him to go back to sleep, and turned back to puzzling over where Andromache’s hand came in to the story of Jia Baoyu, and if he would ever be able to figure this out without reading it in the original. When he got up the next time, he could tell from standing next to the oven that it was cheaper than the stone Yusuf had brought him to put in it. The heat was leaking out already. He frowned at it as if he could shame it into behaving, then swiped the gun off the counter and shot it twice. Well, it certainly seemed to be hot enough. This particular baking stone was not large enough for both loaves of bread, at least not after their second rise, so he picked one up by the parchment paper underneath it and laid it into the oven along with its ovenproof bowl, and sat down at the table this time. The baking process involved a great deal more interaction, and he had no desire to be up and down, disturbing Yusuf every time he got in or out of bed. Instead he took the gun Yusuf had obtained that morning - the real gun, that fired bullets, not temperature-sensing lasers - and disassembled it, making sure everything was clean and aligned and functioning the way he expected. He usually had to make minor adjustments to the guns they obtained on the fly. Every so often Yusuf would find him an honest-to-god crossbow and he would get to tune that up in proper Genoese style. One day this would happen while Nile was here, and he would get to give her his lecture on crossbow teams and maintenance, and Yusuf would watch the two of them and laugh and flutter his eyelashes, and Liber would not be there to roll his eyes and complain about Nicolò talking endlessly about crossbows again. Half way through the baking process, he took the water out; a little later he replaced it with some of that ridiculously luxurious aluminum foil, imagine, tearing aluminum sheerly for the vanity of getting a slightly prettier loaf. The wastefulness of it boggled him. He could bring himself to making a sheet of it to cover the bread, but he couldn’t bring himself to not reuse that sheet, not just for the bread, but for everything he cooked for the rest of the week, until the aluminum was wrinkled and torn beyond use. It had happened before. It would happen again. When the last timer ended, he reached for an oven mitt first, to pick the loaf up and knock it as he had for centuries. And then he remembered the gun and swore. He had the loaf in his hands already, but he managed to fumble it into one hand and reach sideways for the gun, the heat from the oven washing over him as he held the loaf at arm’s reach and shredded it with a laser machine gun fire. It seemed to be 198 F, which meant about as much to Nicolò as if it had been in Kelvin. When he knocked on it, it sounded good. Well, he could tell Yusuf he had used the gun for its intended purpose. He slipped the loaf onto the cooling rack, and reached for the second. Andromache was in the doorway to the kitchen. If he were less accustomed to her sudden appearances, he would have yelped. “You couldn’t be bothered to help when I was struggling?” he demanded instead. “You seemed to be managing,” she said. “You’re letting the oven cool.” He kicked the oven door closed. Oven like that, it could wait a few minutes before it was ready to take on another loaf. Andromache circled around the table in the kitchen, and Nicolò tried not to retreat or bristle. Tried and failed. He knew how menacing Andromache could be, and now when she was not even trying he was having trouble forgetting. Wound up about something, or more than one thing. He had thought the bread was helping. “You’re up early,” he said. “I smelled something good,” she said. “Can I…?” She gestured to the bread knife. “No,” Nicolò growled, and wrinkled his nose as he realized she had teased him out of being afraid of her. But she would have collapsed the bread if she had tried to cut it so soon, and it was still his to protect. “Have you slept yet?” she asked, more seriously. Nicolò shrugged and shook his head. “I can bake the second loaf of bread.” “Another hour won’t kill me,” said Nicolò. “Someone had to watch the…” He circled a hand and gestured at the little pink walkie-talkie. “You could have slept with it. Even Yusuf would have woken if it crackled,” she said. “You overestimate him,” he said. “You underestimate yourself,” she answered. “Why are you awake, Nicolò?” “I keep thinking about Liber,” he admitted, and there it was again, staring him in the face: That they hadn’t even bothered to use Liber’s name, that they hadn’t even noticed the misery in his nickname. “We can call him if you like,” said Andromache. Nicolò tried not to gawp at her. “That simple? One whimper and you’ve given in?” he asked. “I don’t have a lot of time left to hold grudges,” she said, and he’d been so caught up in not fretting about Nile by not-fretting about Liber that he’d forgotten they had Andromache to worry over now, that Andromache was someone they could worry over and not about. “He needs…” Nicolò began. Andromache held a hand up. “I know what your Catholicism is telling you, you’ve told me about your deity often enough,” she said. “I’m telling you, if you want to call him, we can.” I want to, Nicolò thought. He missed Liber, missed walking past him while he and Booker argued about whatever sport they were on now, missed making him French treats and being told his baking was not worthy of a dog, missed the sense of him holding down whatever corner of a room he was in, sturdy and new as a peg in a Shaker coffee table. “Not now,” he said instead, miserable over it. “He needs time. Maybe not a hundred years, but for now he is just wallowing. He needs time to forgive himself and build his life anew. He needs to think he has a hundred years to do so.” He walked past Andromache to open the oven door, but she blocked his way with a hand. “And I?” she asked, and there was an actual, honest-to-God tremble in her voice. “If I wanted to call him?” “I would be on the phone with Copley now, to get his number,” said Nicolò, and picked up the edges of the parchment paper. “I would find us travel tickets or stow us away in the holds of ships, and I would speak every word of English necessary to bring us to him, if that is what you needed.” He settled the bread in the oven to his satisfaction, and added the little dish of water to care for it. When he closed the oven door, Andromache was standing by the counter with her weight askew. “That is what I needed to hear,” she said, her voice husky. “Oh, Andromache,” said Nicolò, and gathered him to her, and felt her hand settle against his neck after an uncommon moment’s hesitation, right where he had held Yusuf’s earlier that night. “It’s all right to be scared.” He could hear what she didn’t say: that there were so many things that could happen, that she had never had to worry about before, that she had always assumed she would die in battle and that would be that, no fuss, no worry, no long-drawn-out years wondering what would happen if she drank too much or ate too little salad or if her brothers-in-arms fussed over her like an invalid, or how she could mark her last years as significant when her first thousands had already contained so much. Things Andromache would never be able to say aloud, and that Nicolò had already worried over. “Which part of Dream of the Red Chamber did you write?” he asked. Andromache laughed against him, shaking in his arms and he could feel it in her belly, the way she didn’t do things by halves even when they were little puffs of air. “You know, I don’t remember anymore,” she said. “Wasn’t some of it lost? Maybe none of it.” “Useless,” Nicolò declared her. “I should find a task for you.” He pulled back and reached across the counter without looking, fingers curling around the little pink rectangle in the corner against the wall. “Can you watch the bread for me?” he asked, pressing it into her hands. “I should get some sleep.” “Yeah,” said Andromache, holding the toy like it was Nile’s immortal life, which in some ways it was. “No problem, Nicolò. I have six thousand years of experience.” “Just don’t burn the buns,” said Nicolò, and went to bed.

[rejectedanimexp]

we meet again  Part 2 of villain Eraserhead au

A few months later after their first meeting.

Warning, some cursing and mild torture (hot wax and bugs. Nothing too serious.) Abuse of entomophobia (fear of bugs). Overall, Hizashi doesn't have a fun time.

Hizashi groaned as he slowly came to. His arms and legs were stiff, and he had a pounding headache. He slowly opened his eyes, only to realize he couldn't see; was he blindfolded? He tried to move his arms only to find them stuck firmly behind his back. His legs also seemed to be restrained. 'Am I tied down to a chair? Why am I tied down to a chair?'

He goes to yell, anything to figure out who has him and why, only to find that he can't tell. There's a fucking muzzle on him!!! A fucking muzzle! How the hell did he not notice it sooner?! It's so tight that it almost hurts. 'Ok, think Hizashi. Who have you pissed off lately? Any villains or thugs in particular? I've been investigating the Red Demon drug ring with Loud Cloud (he lives bitches) for the past few weeks, so I couldn't have angered that many villains. So who could of-' Hizashi paled considerably when he realized who he might of angered. Eraserhead did warn him to stay out of the underground after all. How could he have been so careless? He left his guard down and now look where he is. The last thing he remembered was inspecting a noise that he and Loud Cloud heard while doing their mid-day patrol. Loud Cloud told him to be careful and come back as soon as he checked out the noise. Except, he never made it all the way to where the noise was. He blacked out as soon as he was out of sight from his comrade.

The sound of a door opening and slamming could be heard, followed by two sets of footsteps heading towards him. One of them stopped a little bit away from him. The other stopped in front of him, and Hizashi stiffened at the feeling of something cold against his neck. Wait, were was his directional speaker? And why did he just now realize his hair was down and his headphones were missing? But how could he hear if his headphones were gone? He could vaguely feel his hearing aids now that he was conscious about his headphones missing. HOW THE FUCK DID HE GET A HOLD OF HIS HEARING AIDS?! And were his boots off too?

"So, we meet again, Hero~" Eraserhead greeted as he lightly traced Hizashi's jawline with his knife. He pulled the knife away only to lightly tap the hero's nose with it. "Such a shame you couldn't keep your nose out of the underworld."

With a sigh Eraserhead put the knife down beside him and reached behind the hero's head to untie the blindfold. Hizashi squinted as he tried to make out the blurry figure that was kneeling in front of him. Realizing he wasn't going to be able to see his captor real well no matter how hard he squinted, he decided to glare at him. Eraserhead just chuckled at his pathetic glare.

"I should of known someone with your level of stubbornness wouldn't stay down for long. You're just too persistent to do so. Still, I can't have you running around and snooping into my business so I'm going to have to deal with you accordingly. Of course, your co-worker needs to be dealt with as well, but I'm sure he will back down once I'm through with you, Hero." Eraserhead chuckled darkly.

The other person spoke up. "Shouldn't we figure out what he knows about the drug ring?"

"Perhaps, but let me have my fun with him first, Puppeteer." Eraserhead answered as he looked behind at the figure sitting on boxes afar.

"If you say so. What so special about this guy anyways? Why don't you just off him like you would any other snooping hero?" the person scoffed.

Eraserhead hummed as he studied the hero in front of him. "Sure, he can be such a nuisance, and I'd rather him be permanently out of my way, but he just seems so fun to play with(he means torture)! He's not like the others. He's not afraid to be defiant and I can just tell that this won't be the last time I have to punish him for being such a naughty hero."

Hizashi flinched when the knife appeared in his face.

"Don't think that means I won't kill you if it comes to it though. I might find amusement in you're stubbornness, but I do take my criminal empire very seriously. The moment you become too big of a threat, I will end you by any means necessary." Eraserhead warned before pocketing the knife.

Eraserhead then dug into his pockets and pulled out Hizashi's prescription sunglasses that he wore when in costume. He put them on the hero with a smirk. "That's better. Can't have you squinting at me all night, now can we? Besides, you have to see what I'm doing to you or it won't be as effective as I want it to be."

Hizashi looked around and noticed he was in a basement or cellar. The person who came in with Eraserhead seemed to be around Izuku's age and dressed like a purple/ silver Eraserhead. His purple and silver hair was hanging flat against his head. The boy was causally lounging on a pile of boxes and crates. Looking down at his legs, he realized it was Eraserhead's scarf that bound him to the chair.(And his boots were indeed missing.) Nearby, to the right about a yard away, was a table covered in a lot of equipment. Torture equipment to be specific. Hizashi's eyes widen with fear as he frantically tried to get out of his bounds.

"Quit struggling, Yamada, or your punishment will be worse." Eraserhead sighed with irritation.

Hizashi stopped struggling and hung his head in defeat. Eraserhead hummed with approval as he got up and went to the table. He was feeling sadistic but slightly merciful today. After carefully considering which items to use, he settled with the giant jar filled with centipedes and a jar of wax (currently on a burner). He put the items down behind the tied up hero (so he couldn't see them) before making his way to the back of the room to pull out a weird looking table with four metal cuffs, one in each corner. The table had wheels on it which made it easy for Eraserhead to pull it. The villain brought it to where it was two yards in front of the hero. The table was currently completely horizontal, though it could become perpendicular with a few tugs on the lever on it's side. Hizashi eyed the contraption with a mix of fear and confusion. It looked like one of those tables that the spies in movies were strapped to when the villain threatened them with a laser. Hizashi did not want to know what the villain was planning if it involved being cuffed down to a table. He didn't want to know where those blood stains on it came from.

Eraserhead smirked under his mask at the look on Hizashi's face. "Oh, are we going to have so much fun!" Hizashi went pale. Eraserhead chuckled as he stalked back to the hero to remove the muzzle. "Well, fun for me at least. You're probably going to hate this."

Hizashi groaned as he stretched his stiff jaw out and contemplated on whether or not it would be wise to yell with his quirk. Eraserhead activated his quirk and narrowed his eyes. "Don't even think about using your quirk or I promise you'll have a way worse punishment."

Hizashi gulped, "no quirk usage, right. Got it."

Eraserhead patted him on the head while teasingly telling him "good boy."

Eraserhead then grabbed onto the scarf that bonded Hizashi to the chair and manipulated it to untie from the chair before bounding the hero once more. Eraserhead picked the hero up and placed him on the table. With the help from Puppeteer, he managed to get all four of Hizashi's limbs into the table's cuffs without too much trouble.

Hizashi turned his head to the side (left side) as he watched Eraserhead go to pick up something from behind the chair he was tied to moments ago. It was a jar of wax on top of a heater plate of some sort. What was he going to do? Cover him in hot wax? That sounded painful. Puppeteer was pulling a cart over- probably so Eraserhead could have something to place the jar of wax on when he wasn't using it. Eraserhead did use it place down his torture item and then he wheeled the car to be behind Hizashi so he couldn't see it. He then went to grab the other item while making sure Hizashi couldn't see it before placing it down on the cart. He walked around the table so he could be on the side of Hizashi. He unzipped the hero's jacket and pulled his shirt up to his neck. Hizashi squirmed when the villain's cold, yellow glove grazed his stomach while the villain was pulling his shirt up. Although, with his arms firmly restrained above him head and his legs restrained to the corners of the table, his squirming wasn't really effective.

Eraserhead moved to the cart and grabbed the now melted wax. He walked back to Hizashi's side and with an evil gleam in his eyes, he held the opened jar of wax over the hero's bare chest. Hizashi started struggling in his bounds again, not entirely thrilled about what's about to happen.

"No no no..." Hizashi mumbled fearfully.

"You should have thought about the consequences before you chose to go snooping in the underground again. Now you have to suffer the consequences." Eraserhead scolded as he tilted the jar.

The wax drizzled out of the jar and onto Hizashi, causing him to bit back a shout of pain. It was probably not wise to yell least he wanted to anger the villain above him. Eraserhead slowly moved the jar as the wax drizzled onto Hizashi, causing the wax to create small shapes and lines all over his chest over the next ten minutes. Hizashi was trembling in his his bounds, tears in his eyes as more and more wax was poured onto him. There was no doubt that he would have burn marks after this. About a few minutes later, Eraserhead accidentally spilled a rather big glob of wax near Hizashi's waistline, getting a painful shout from the hero. Eraserhead managed to erase the hero's quirk before it could accidentally activate and sighed as he stopped pouring wax on the hero and put the jar down on the cart before returning to his position. Puppeteer, who was filming the whole punishment session on his phone, tossed a package of wipes to Eraserhead.

Eraserhead gently wiped the wax off of Hizashi as he softly hummed a happy tune; the villain's "cheerful" attitude was rather unnerving for Hizashi. Eraserhead sighed as he wiped off the last of the wax.

"Hang in there, Hero." Eraserhead drawled as he went to put the wipes down and pick up the jar of centipedes. "We're only half way done here."

Hizashi nearly passed out from fear when he saw what Eraserhead was holding. He then started squirming as if his life depended on it. "No no no... please no. God no! I'm sorry for poking my nose in the underground- please not the bugs! Anything but that!"

Eraserhead shook his head with a laugh as he opened the jar. "Sorry, Hero, but you've got to learn what happens to heroes who bite off more than they can chew."

Eraserhead poured the centipedes all over Hizashi, watching with sadistic humor as the hero tensed up with absolute fear and horror. The hero looked as if he was going to have a panic attack from the bugs being on him. Hizashi could feel the bugs crawling all over him, some of them wiggling their way into his pants and under his shirt and up his arms. It was horrifying. The worst! A few minutes later Hizashi couldn't handle it much longer and let out a blood curdling scream when one found its way to his chin. This time, Eraserhead couldn't erase his quirk in time. The whole room rattled from the hero's terrified scream. Luckily, Puppeteer's phone wasn't affected and was still filming. Hizashi broke into wrecked sobs as he trembled under the bugs. He was mumbling "sorry" and "please make it stop" over and over as he started to hyperventilate. He was starting to gasp for breath as his hyperventilating got worse. Eraserhead, having an extremely rare moment of pity and not wanting Present Mic to die from over hyperventilating, undid Hizashi's restraints and put the hero on the ground. Hizashi immediately brushed the bugs off as if they were poison before he started rocking back and forth in a fetal position. Eraserhead pushed the bug covered torture table away and motioned for Puppeteer to stop recording. Eraserhead then sat down next to the hero and rubbed Hizashi's back as if trying to ease him out of his panic attack.

"There, there. It all over. I know how traumatizing that must of been, but you forced my hand by being oh so nosy. You do understand that, right?" Eraserhead said softly as he tried to coax Hizashi out of his panic attack.

Hizashi's breath hitched as he tried to slow his breathing, his face covered in tears. He slowly stopped rocking and peered over the rims of his sunglasses and knees at the villain next to him. Hizashi was too tired to even try to move away from Eraserhead or talk back to him. Hizashi just mumbled a weak sorry as his panic attack finally subdued. He just wanted to go home and sleep. To sleep away his fears and anxieties from today. But he couldn't. After all, didn't that kid- his name was Puppeteer, right?- say they needed to get info from him? That meant he couldn't leave yet- if they let him go at all. Hizashi started to shake again as his mind filled with horrid thoughts of what Eraserhead might do to him if he did end up not letting him go. Would he kill him? He did say he would kill him if he thought he was a big enough threat. What if he suddenly deemed him big enough of a threat and decided to end him tonight?

Eraserhead reached for his capture scarf that was a few feet away as he reassured Hizashi, "I'm not going to kill you."

Hizashi froze as he slowly looked up from his knees and let out a weak, "huh?"

Eraserhead sighed, "you were mumbling about the chances of me killing you. I'm not going to kill you until you give me a reason to do so. So far, I don't really have one. And you're not going to be stuck here- at least not forever. You may be here for another day or so, but that all depends on your fellow heroes and how quick they meet my demands." He held up his scarf in his hands to Hizashi. "Now, please give me your hands so I can restrain you long enough to get you to the guest bedroom."

Hizashi, with some hesitation, held out his arms towards the villain and tucked his legs under himself. Eraserhead carefully bound the hero's wrists together, making sure to not be too rough. He doesn't want to be soft towards the hero, but at the same time he doesn't want to rub the hero's wrists raw. Especially after the torture session he just went through. With a final knot, Hizashi's wrists were firmly bound together. Eraserhead then helped the hero get up on his wobbly feet and started to tug him by the other end of the scarf towards the door. Hizashi was stumbling a lot, but he managed to keep on his feet as the villain pulled him along.

"We'll question him in the morning. Puppeteer, send the video and our demands to his agency." Eraserhead said to Puppeteer as they passed him.

"Sure thing Nii-san." Puppeteer laughed as he texted the video to every member of the agency, and then followed with a small list of demands.

The demands were simple, really. Just to stay away from the drug ring and to destroy any and all files on Eraserhead that the law enforcement had. If they didn't, then they wouldn't get Present Mic back. Of course, being the heroes they were, they would do anything to get Present Mic back. It certainly helped that Eraserhead was known for his ruthlessness and murderous tendencies. They would probably be working overtime to meet the demands in order to save Present Mic from possible death. Not that Eraserhead would kill the blond hero. But the heroes didn't know that.

Eraserhead led the hero up the stairs and through a door that only opened via fingerprint. They entered a decent sized room that looked like it could be the living room or a lounge. It had multiple couches and tables as well as four giant tv's. It had grey carpets and black walls. Across the room was a hall, and to the right was another door. Eraserhead led him towards the hall that had six doors on each side. Eraserhead led him through the 2nd door on the right that required a retina scan to open. The room was a decent sized bedroom with yellow walls and black carpet. There was a bed centered against the back wall. There was a black dresser on its right and a yellow door on its left. The bed was made from black colored wood and covered in fluffy yellow blankets. On the bed was a pair of yellow, plaid pajamas folded neatly. His pajamas that Izuku got him for Christmas. Did Eraserhead break into his house to steal his clothes and hearing aids? Creepy. Why was the room black and yellow? Was this room made specifically for him? How long ago was it made? Does that mean Eraserhead has been planning to kidnap him for a while now? Was there multiple plans? (Eraserhead literally based the bedroom off of his villain color scheme. It has nothing to do with Present mic. Well, mostly anyway. Hizashi's just freaking out.)

Eraserhead untied Hizashi's hands before shoving the pajamas into his arms and steering him towards the door on the left side of the bed. He opened it and shoved the hero into the room beyond it. Inside was a black bathroom with marble counters and tiled floor. There was a toilet and a giant Jacuzzi with a shower above it.

"Get changed and try to sleep, Hero." Eraserhead drawled. "And before you even think of trying to escape the room, the walls and door have already been quirk proofed and the door will be locked."

Hizashi looked uncertain as he turned to look at the villain. Was it normal for a hostage or prisoner to be locked in such a luxurious room? Why wasn't Eraserhead locking him in a dingy dungeon or cage? Was this some sort of trick Eraserhead was pulling to get him in a false sense of security? What time was it anyway? How long was he out before he woke up? Was he going to be fed or would he be starved as a punishment for being a hero? If he was fed, would the food be drugged? Would Eraserhead try to keep him in the room by weakening him with narcotics? Eraserhead did say he'd be here for a day or more. So how long would he be here?

Eraserhead groaned as he fixed a reprimanding gaze on Hizashi. "You've seemed to pick up on your brother's mumbling habit. How about instead of questioning things you just be grateful for them. I could easily move you to a cold dingy cell if I feel like it. Also, you were out for about a little over a day. You'll get food if you sleep. So get dressed and go to bed."

Eraserhead left the room after that. Hizashi sighed as he heard the door automatically lock when it was closed. He was finally alone. Hizashi changed into the pajamas and put his hero outfit on top of the dresser. He then put his hearing aids and sunglasses down on top of the outfit before climbing into the very comfy and soft bed. Seriously, why was this bed so comfortable? It was like sleeping on a cloud! If it weren't for the fact he was being held captive, he would have been happy about the soft bed. But here's the problem. False sense of security is exactly what the villain wants. By giving Hizashi a soft bed and "cool" living arrangements, he's already declaring some sort of physiological warfare. What better way go keep the hostage under control then to be nice to it. After all, the hostage is more willing go cooperate if you treat them decently. And the hostage might just fear angering their captor if it means losing what little luxury they have. (Eraserhead was just being logical by having him in a locked room next to his own bedroom. No physiological warfare. Hizashi is just bring his usual paranoid self.)

Hizashi eventually fell asleep.

Part 3 will continue Hizashi's time being held captive.

[nadacwriter]

OCtober (Belated) Day 9: Mentor

Part of @oc-growth-and-development‘s OCtober!

I WILL be writing a companion piece for this one, it’ll be for the CRAFT prompt.It’ll be kinda dark, and we’ll get to see that not everyone in the family gets along with Natalie. 

Words: 1,481

Norah Gaine was probably going to end up owning her mother's alchemy shop. She had even dropped out of school to learn more about the store and how to run it. She had no intention of doing anything else, so, she figured it'd be better to practice that than, say, general astronomy or whatever else. But it meant that by now, she was an expert in potions.

At age 18, she was already a master of the craft, a which paralleled by few. She was already making High class potions and serious poisons, and selling them for a good price in the store. And she had already taken the store into her hands if her mother was sick or just unable to deal with the store fully.

But all potions had to be made first. And Norah was making easy work of a particular potion that she knew could sell well; crimson balm. A topical balm used for treating fatigue one spot of that could work better than mountains of caffeine. Too much could, obviously, be a serious problem. But she was being careful; alchemist's gloves, safety goggles, her long braids of hair done up in a tight bun, and working in a well lit area. With no distractions…

Well. Then there was Natalie.

The younger girl sighed as she walked in. “Before you ask, yes, my potions test went horribly.” She said, laying face down on the couch. “And now I'm convinced mom's gonna kill me.”

Norah looked over, giggling, “Mom doesn't kill people. Mam, maybe, but not mom.” She said, looking back to her work. It would be done soon, it seemed.

“What kind of potion?” She asked, still focused on her work.

“Ugh, I studied so hard trying to make Flier's Potion, and then the professor just randomly changed up what we were doing and made us make some weird hawkfeather thing.” Natalie sat up and crossed her arms, looking over at the bubbling cauldron.

“That smells like crimson Balm.”

“it IS crimson balm.” Norah took the cauldron in her gloved hands and poured the contents into a saucer, before adding a strange pink powder to the top and pouring it into a large glass pitcher.

“its for an order, you can't borrow any this time.”

“But it smells so GOOD!” Natalie said, walking over to the table, “It's like a million cherries all at once.”

Noah took the pitcher and poured it into little vials. “I bet I could teach you a cherry fragrance, I know a pretty easy one.”

Natalie sighed and shook her head, “I'd probably mess that one up, too. I don't think potions are gonna be my thing.”

“Maybe not potions,” Norah said, capping the vials and arranging them, “But fragrances are simple. No dangerous ingredients, no horrible mishaps, nothing like that.” Norah picked up one of the vials and then sighed, putting it back down.

“Would you mind?”

“Huh? Oh, yeah, no problem.”

Natalie counted the bottles in her head before snapping her hand, and sticers and labels appeared on the bottles. 'Crimson Balm, Gibson family Potions'

“I never knew how you did that,” Norah said, beginning to clean out her cauldron and turning off the burner.

“Oh, command spells? They're super simple on inanimate objects. You learn 'em in wizardy intro courses.”

“Well, that'd explain it, I'm not a wizard,” Norah said, “And even if I were, I don't know how good I would be at domestic.”

“There's no domestic witchery course?”

“There is, but Mom hasn't taught me much of that stuff yet.”

The two stood there, looking at each other for a moment.

“...If you teach me that fragrance thing, I'll teach you command spells.”

“Deal.”

__

“So it's soap?” Asked Natalie, looking over the ingredients laid out in front of her; wax, cherries, lemongrass, and some strange jar of water.

“Nope. It'd be a candle, if not for flowing water.” Norah said, taking the strange jar and opening it. Sure enough, the water inside was flowing like a rapid stream over rocks, bubbling and roiling.

“How do you get it to do that?!” Asked Natalie, looking at the water in the jar.

“It's very complicated alchemy. I would have made some just for this, but it's way too hard, I just pulled some from the store.” She said.

“Yeah, I'm not gonna figure that one out.” Natalie said, “My wizard brain can't handle it.”

Norah got a few more things, two small cauldrons and two small burners, “Don't wizards have a form of alchemy that witches can't do?”

“Transmutation, but that's so different it's not even funny,” Natalie mentioned, “tin to lead, lead to brass, brass to iron, iron to bronze, bronze to silver, silver to gold, and gold to...well, whatever you want. But getting from tin to gold can take MONTHS of work. You guys can make incredibly powerful potions in a matter of hours. It's so incredible.”

“Well,” Norah giggled, “We try our best! Now, take that flowing water and put some into your cauldron.”

The water flowed as it was poured into the cauldron, and Natalie watched with a keen eye. The cauldron was only a little warm, but the water's flow did slow down as it hit the bottom of the copper cauldron.

“Is it supposed to slow down?” Natalie asked.

“Yes,” Norah answered, “The heat does that. It keeps the mixture from foaming. Now, add the lemon grass.”

“Just straight in?”

“Straight in.”

The lemongrass floated in the water, taking up a decent portion of the mixture.

“Now, let that sit, we gotta crush the cherries down.”

Norah took the cherries to a metal contraption, with a holed basin that looked like a large, flat colander. She placed the cherries inside of the machine, and used a large plank to crush the cherries into a pulp, letting it into a basin at he bottom.

“This is just straight juice. Nothing else in there. Take those to bars of wax for me?”

Natalie took the two bars of wax and placed them in the basin. Natalie reached in and took the wax out, making sure it was covered nicely. “And now we let it sit.”

“How long?”

“Just a little while.”

The two stood, watching the mixture.

“...So, you still wanna learn command magic?” Asked Natalie, “It's pretty simple-”

“I don't know, nat, I don't think I can learn wizard methods. The way you guys learn is just so different from how we do.”

“Well, yeah, but you could do it! It'd take time, but...oh. I see what you're saying.” Natalie said, crossing her arms, “You tricked me into a moral.”

Norah smirked a little, “So what if I did? You have to learn why there's a difference some day.”

Natalie rolled her eyes, 'Then WHY do I have to take an alchemy course if I'm not a witch?!”

“Because you can use methods from one to influence how you learn from the other. How do you think Mom taught me to make wax into perfume?”

“...Tin to gold.”

“Exactly.” norah said, poking her sister's nose, “you're never gonna be both a great Witch AND Wizard. But you can use one to improve your understanding of the other.”

“Well, you and I BOTH know I have problems picking sides.”

Norah laughed a bit, “Your sexuality has nothing to do with your magical education, Natalie. Now, I think that wax has sat long enough.”

The two took their bars o wax and let them sit in the cauldrons, mixing in a light blue powder as the wax melted, and stirring it gently.

“Just think of the air around it,” Natalie said, “and manipulated it to do what you want.”

“...What?”

“The spoon. Make the spoon stir itself by manipulating the air around it.” Natalie said, making her spoon stir without even looking at it.

“Are you trying to teach me wizard techniques through witch lgic?”

“you SAID use one to influence the other.”

“I did say that, let me give it a shot.”

Norah scrunched her nose up and looked at the spoon. It twisted, then it shifted, and eventually, it was stirring itself.

“See? Look at you doing wizard things.” Nat said, smiling wide as she looked on.

__

Natalie was in her room later that night, looking over an old book she'd 'obtained'. When she looked at her clock and saw just how late it was, she rubbed her eyes.

“Fatal spells and incantations can wait a day, I think.” She said, closing the book and placing it in a compartment under her bed.

She went to a shelf and grabbed some of the fragrance she'd made with norah that afternoon. She inhaled deeply, letting the scent of cherries and light lemon fill her nose, before setting it back down and going to bed.

She was fast asleep when the door crept open...

[alarmetoulouse-blog]

How to Make Your House a Clean, Green Home

If you have ever looked at the labels on cleaning supplies, I would venture to guess you have no idea what they are. What should alarme toulouse us all, are the warning labels on most of them. I will be the first to admit that I cannot clean my bath tub without my Ajax. However, with all the issues associated with toxins put into cleaners these days, I set out to find the best all natural substitute cleaners. There are many products available; these are the ones that work best for my home. Baking soda, washing soda, vinegar, mineral oil, borax and lemon juice are some of my favorites.

Let's start in the bathroom. I use vinegar for almost everything in this room. Mix water and vinegar in a spray bottle and use it to clean counter tops, toilet, mirror, walls, windows, shower and most floors. If you have a mold issue, put the bleach away and use full strength vinegar. I also spray my shower down every couple of days to keep it fresh and keep mildew at bay. Remember my issue with Ajax, well I tried baking soda and was not too impressed. I then mixed the baking soda with washing soda and it worked great. Considering, the scouring cleaners are one of the most harmful cleaners, this is a great alternative.

For the kitchen, the bathroom supplies work just as good. I do mix up a different solution of vinegar, washing soda, borax and hot water for an all-purpose cleaner. It works great on the cabinet doors, stove, fridge and countertops. I have laminate floors in my kitchen and bathrooms, so the vinegar and water works good, but I prefer the smell of mineral oil. 

If you use this, make sure to only put a tablespoon of the oil mixed with water so you will not leave a film. Putting a cut up lemon down the disposal once a week keeps the drains fresh and smelling good. For the cutting board, use the vinegar solution, baking soda or lemon juice. Lemon juice has a natural bleaching component and works well for things that need disinfected. To keep all your drains clean, once a week pour a half cup of baking soda and one cup of vinegar down the drain. This is a fun activity for your kids as well. You can also boil a pan of water and put down the drains.

To dust I simply use the same mineral oil mixture as I use on the floors. If I am looking for a little more fragrance, I add a drop or two of tea tree oil or any other essential oil I am feeling at the time. Also, instead of spending a ton of money on those candles or wax for melting pots, just mix up a drop or two of essential oils with some water. Put into your melting pot or in a pan on the stove or wood burner. This smells great and will not break the bank.

It is important to think about why we should use all natural products in the first place. One of the biggest problems in waste water treatment plants today are the chemicals that are being flushed. These plants do what they can, but it is impossible to treat it all. Our fish and drinking water is paying a huge price for this. Our families are the most important thing in the world; you can do your part in keeping them safe and have a clean home at the same time.

[redprincessfics]

Always You

Rating: T for language and some extremely minor innuendo

Ship: Hakyona

Details: Modern AU, 5200+ words, Crossposted to AO3 here with some additional notes about the AU

The buzz of his apartment doorbell startles Hak awake from an evening nap.

He sits up, rubbing bleary eyes. The tv is on, across from where he lied on his futon couch, now playing some tv drama he was unfamiliar with. He glances at his phone; it was 10:34 pm, the windows of his small apartment was dark outside when it’d been barely breaking dusk when he’d fallen asleep. The last text he’d gotten was from Jae-ha, several hours back. Take it easy and let me know if you need to get your mind off things. Got a pack of beer with your name on it.

The door buzzes once more. He heaves himself to his feet, tilting his head side to side to straighten out the krick in his neck.

Normally, he would have checked the peep hole before opening the door. But tonight he was simply too tired and groggy, pulling open the door without much thought.

The night is stormy, what had only been a drizzle hours ago was now teeming down. Yona’s red curls drip with rainwater as she stands in his apartment doorstep, shivering harshly. She sniffles, her arms wrapped about her drenched party dress, whose once flouncy skirt clung heavily to her legs. What was she doing here? She was supposed to be at Kouren’s wedding reception.

“Hi,” She says, her voice wobbling.

Hak ushers her inside without a word, turning toward his thermostat to flick it up a few notches. He’d always liked his home somewhat cooler, which had always been a frequent complaint of Yona when she visited. It had been a while since she’d been there to complain about it.

Yona steps into the apartment almost cautiously, as though she wasn’t sure if she was still welcome there. She places her handbag on his kitchen counter, her heels clacking unevenly on the tile floor.

“What’s wrong, Yona?” Hak asks, shutting his door behind her.

He moves to his linen closet when she doesn’t answer, pulling out a large bath towel and wrapping it around her. As he settles the towel around her tiny shoulders, she lets out a gentle sob.

“Are you hurt?” He asks gently, rubbing the moisture out of her hair. “Injured anywhere?”

She shakes her head vehemently. “No! No!” Violet meets blue for a second, and it’s as if the eye contact flips a switch in her. Tears fall down her cheeks, and she pulls the towel to her eyes to stave the flow.

“Hime-san,” He says, pulling her close for a hug. She eases into the embrace, soothed by the use of his old nickname for her.

“...Broke up.” Yona mumbles into his chest.

Hak freezes. She’d heard about him and Aro?

“Suwon and I broke up.”

Oh.

Wait, what?

“You broke up?” He repeats, almost without thought.

“Yes,” Yona squeezes him tighter. “We-we’re finished for good.”

It won’t be for good. Hak thinks immediately, planting a gentle kiss in her hair. It was a small couple’s quarrel. A misunderstanding. Suwon will drop by tomorrow, explain everything, and all will go back to how it was. They love each other, there’s no way this is for good.

He doesn’t voice those thoughts, instead he gently extracts himself from her embrace and forces a smirk. She doesn’t need to hear him wax on about how they’d get back together, he’d only make her feel worse about it. “Let’s hang out tonight, then. Misery loves company; Aro just dumped my sorry ass too.”

“What?” Yona gasps, clutching the towel over her mouth. “Oh Hak, I’m so sorry!”

Hak shrugs. “It’s fine,” He says. “We were only together for six months.” Unlike you two… coming on a year and a half now.

“Still,” Yona sighs. “I… I’m  sure you’ll find someone better.”

He offers her a dry smile. “Yeah.” He spins her around, nudging her toward his bedroom. “Go take a shower. Your favourite sweatshirt is still waiting in the top drawer of my dresser, along with your shorts.”

Yona sniffles and nods, stepping into his bedroom and closing the door after herself.

He was, after all, incredibly pathetic. Of course he still kept that sweatshirt for her, all folded nicely and in a place she could easily find it. She hadn’t used the sweatshirt in six months, not since her boyfriend had returned from overseas and she decided it was no longer appropriate for her to sleep over at another man’s apartment. And perhaps she was right, but he felt the ache of her absence nonetheless.

They’d grown closer after her father’s sudden death a year back. It had been hard on her to lose her father; he had been the last of her family and taken so soon and so suddenly after she turned 18. Suwon was away at the time of the accident, studying abroad for his second year of college. Where else could she have turned to for comfort besides Hak? Her big mean childhood friend who’d lived next door to her was suddenly her best friend. The friend who held her hand at the funeral as casket lowered into the ground. The friend who she’d hug in her sleep when she had nightmares about the crash.

Most of the time he didn’t really care that she didn’t return his feelings. He was happy just being friends, happy to be in her life, happy he was a comfort and wanted company. That was all he really needed from her. But sometimes she’d lean her head on his shoulder and he’d marvel how perfectly she seemed to fit in his arms. Sometimes he’d block out the way she gushed about her wonderful boyfriend because it still sent a pang to his heart. Maybe that made him selfish, but try as he might, he couldn’t stop it.

And he knows it’s stupid and wrong. That he needs to move on and get over it. Hell, that was why he decided to say yes to Aro in the first place. And she was a great girlfriend, really. Pretty and sweet and charming. But they didn’t click, and for all she was attracted to him, even Aro could tell after a while that he never instigated anything remotely romantic with her. It was always her reaching for his hand, always her kissing him or tugging him into the bedroom. So she dumped him after six months and he couldn’t blame her.

Hak opens the cabinet under his television, pulling out his modest collection of blu rays and a dusty blu ray player that only saw use when Yona was visiting. He didn’t like physical proof of how pathetically he clung to his feelings, so he hid it all in his tv cabinet during the months since she’d spent any significant time at his place.

By the time he hears the water shut off in the shower, he’s finished re-hooking up the player to his tv and pops Spirited Away into the machine—her favourite movie. Yona peeks out of his bedroom door just as he stands back up, dressed in his oversized sweatshirt and those pink flannel shorts that she’d left for sleepovers at his place. Her red hair is moist at her shoulders and her makeup has been scrubbed off. She looks far less miserable than she had before her shower, though the tear tracks on her red cheeks were still very visible.

“Hey,” Hak says. “In the mood to watch something? I’ve got Spirited Away ready.”

“I… sure.” Yona says, stepping out of his room.

He notices that she’d taken the blanket off the end of his bed, lugging the thick covers behind her as she plops on to the futon and wraps herself in them. Just as she always used to do six months ago. Hak’s chest tightens at the sight, and he quickly moves past her to his tiny kitchen.

“I was about to make myself some hot chocolate… you in?” He tosses over his shoulder as he rifles around in his cabinets for the ingredients.

It was a lie, and she probably knows it. She loved hot chocolate much more than he did, and the likelihood of him making it only for himself was pretty low. Still, he expects her to jump at the offer, but instead he hears no answer.

Hak turns toward her, the tin of expensive premium cocoa powder she likes so much in hand, only to find that she is leaning over the back of the futon and staring at him. There’s something on her face, in her eyes, an emotion he can’t place. But he feels that it’s intense, it makes his stupid heart flop in his chest unevenly and he can’t hold her gaze for long or his face will grow noticeably warm.

He turns aways again, pulling a pot out and onto the burner. “If you don’t answer, I’m going to make it with water instead of milk.”

“Eww…” Yona’s voice says behind him. “Yes, Hak, I’d like some hot chocolate and you better not make it with water.”

There she is. He nearly sags in relief at how normal she sounded just then.

Hak prepares the hot chocolate just the way he knows she likes it; extra sugar, two squares of dark chocolate melted in, topped with whipped cream, mini marshmallows and chocolate sprinkles. He’d continued buying all the materials for it even after Yona stopped coming by. In hindsight, maybe there was a part of him hoping things would go back to the way they were, but they never did.

Once, in a bought of loneliness, he’d even made Aro the hot chocolate. She’d complained that it was too sweet and rich and told him to finish it for her. He’d been kind of disappointed she hadn’t liked their special drink, but even at the time he knew it was ridiculous to expect Aro to like the same things Yona did. Maybe he’d only really viewed Aro as a replacement for Yona.

He really did deserve to be dumped.

He huffs and brings the two mugs to the living room, placing them on his coffee table and settling at the other end of the sofa. Yona leans forward to get her mug, and takes a tentative sip. She sighs.

“You make the best hot chocolate, Hak.” She murmurs, folding her legs onto the futon. “I’ve asked Suwon to do it, even tried making it myself, but it never comes out the way you make it.”

“It’s just some cocoa powder, vanilla extract, sugar—”

Yona shakes her head. “I know, but there’s something about the way you do it.”

She’s looking at him like that again, like she wants him to read something in her words that she isn’t saying. He picks up his mug and takes a large, burning gulp that he feels all the way to his gut.

“... Let’s start the movie.” He says hastily, pressing the play button.

Yona watches him over the rim of her mug as the beginning credits roll, but soon allows her slightly puffy eyes to drift to the screen. Only then, does Hak actually relax.

“Hak,” She says, after a long pause of watching. “Can I stay the night? Even on the futon is fine. I don’t want to…” She trails off.

See the hairpin he’d bought her for her birthday. All the photos of the two of them she’d stuck to the wall above her bed.

“Sure,” Hak says. “In fact, take my bed. I was thinking I’d prefer to sleep on the futon  tonight, anyways.”

That causes Yona to look at him again. “Because of…?” She exhales as if to calm herself, then swallows. “Did you like her that much? Were you in love?”

Hak is startled by the question. “Well, I…” He swallows the instinctive no that appears in his mouth. He didn’t want her to question why he’d dated Aro in the first place, if not for love. “I mean… She was my girlfriend.” He says lamely.

“I’m sorry,” Yona shakes her head, a determined look crossing her features. “I’m being rude right now, but if she didn’t see the wonderful man she had, then it’s her loss.”

“...It wasn’t her fault.” Hak sighs. “I wasn’t able to make her happy. She was a great girlfriend while it lasted.”

“Well, she was wrong to let you go.” Yona says firmly, and maybe it was his imagination, but he could swear he saw a small bit of redness fill her cheeks.

“Hime-san, I’m telling you it’s not her fault.”

Yona sips her mug. “...Okay.” She sighs.

They turn back to the screen. Hak wonders briefly if she would talk to him about her own break up, but she merely affixes the mug to her lips again and takes a big gulp. He waits, but she still doesn’t speak. Oh well, it’s not like it matters what the fight was about. Suwon would call her first thing in the morning and sort everything out. They would make up and things would go back to how they’ve been since Suwon came home. Yona wouldn’t come to his apartment anymore.

They watch the movie in silence. Yona finishes her mug and places it back on the table, eyes glued to the screen as she shifts on the futon to move closer to him. Hak tries to ignore the heat she brings with her, but finds he can’t when she leans over and rests her head against his arm.

“Hak,” Yona says softly.

“Hm?”

“You know why I started to love this movie shortly after Dad…?” She trails off, and Hak squeezes her hand lightly.

“It’s a great movie.” He says.

“Yeah, but that’s not the only reason.” Yona inhales deeply. “It’s because it reminds me of you.”

He laughs lightly. “That river spirit kid does have the same name as me.”

“It’s deeper than that!” Yona giggles, burying her face in his arm.

“Sure, sure.” Hak says.

“I’m serious!” She says. “It’s like… you know the way he takes care of Chihiro and helps her. He’s like this firm, strong guiding presence who always helps her without expecting anything in return. You’re like that too, you know. Always there, always guiding me, both when we were kids and now. You let me be rude about your breakup, but haven’t asked me anything about mine. You’ve always protected me in ways nobody else ever has, Hak, and that’s why I love this movie so much. It reminds me of you.”

Hak swallows, his laughter weak. “Careful, Yona. Talking like that is gonna make me think you’re into me.”

It was just a joke, something to cut the tension he was suddenly very much feeling during her speech. But after the words left his mouth only to be met with a deafening silence, he quickly regretted saying them at all.

“Sorry,” He says. “I’m just kidding, I know you—”

“What if I was?”

“Huh?” It is the only thing he could think to say.

Yona presses against his arm as if embarrassed. “If I said I was into you, would you think it was weird?”

Hak’s head spun. Why is she pitching this hypothetical? And-and that’s all this was; a hypothetical. Yona’s been in love with Suwon since they were kids. She’d fantasized about their wedding. She was the one to ask him out, for fuck’s sake!

“Why are you asking me this?” Hak blurts, gently prying Yona off of his arm and standing from the futon. He really needs the space. “Why does it matter? Who cares what I’d think. It’s not… reality.”

Yona’s face is beet red, nearly matching her fiery hair as she retreats back to her end of the futon. “Well, I–I just want an honest answer!” Her voice drops a few octaves and her violet eyes narrow on the rug at his feet. “I won’t bring it up again. I’m sorry.”

Hak takes a few moments to calm down. This breakup was messing with Yona’s head and she was saying a bunch of crazy shit. That’s all it is. He couldn’t hope more that Suwon would come clear everything up tomorrow.

He sighs deeply, and sits on the edge of the futon again. “...No, I don’t think it would be weird.” What the hell, might as well get it off his chest somewhat. Yona will be too elated to get back together with Suwon next morning to even care that he’d indirectly confessed to her. “I mean, I’ve gotten comments before that we seem like a couple sometimes. We’ve known each other a long time, we get along and we laugh at each other’s jokes. So no, I don’t think it would be weird at all.”

He spares a tentative glance at Yona, finding her curled up with her knees up to her chest. Her cheeks were rosy, her violet eyes large and pretty, her hair mussed so perfectly around her face. Plus, you’re adorable. He thinks, forcing his eyes away from her.

“Hak,” She murmurs his name against her knee.

He doesn’t answer. He doesn’t trust himself to talk right now, lest the adorable comment spill out of his lips.

“Hak,” Yona repeats, and he can hear the futon creak as she shifts to move closer to him. “Hak.”

He finally looks in her direction. She’d moved closer than he’d expected, sitting on her knees with her blushing face just inches from his. Those eyes, large and emotive, pierce right through him. Hesitantly, she reaches forward, her fingers cupping his cheek gently and he longs to lean into her hand like the thoroughly and hopelessly smitten fool he was.

“Can I do something weird?” She whispers.

“Yes.” The word is like a sigh from his mouth, tumbling out almost involuntarily.

She leans toward him, closing the small distance between them to playfully bump noses.

He can barely breathe with her so close, her scent overloading his senses in seconds. She smells like spring, like sunshine and flowers and rainwater. Her lips taste even better once they meet his. Dizzyingly warm and soft, yet electric, and most importantly, right. Kissing Yona is everything he’d imagined and somehow more mind-blowing because this was really happening. Her hands were really tangled in his hair, her lips really melded with his, her body heat really mingling with his own. He loved her. He’s never been able to forget it, no matter what he did to try. No matter who he dated or kissed or slept with. It was always her; his best friend.

His other best friend’s girlfriend.

Fuck.

He gently but firmly pulls away from her, and wants nothing more than to kiss her again when he hears a whine of protest escape her throat. But he doesn’t, instead he stands to put more distance between them. Yona is watching him on the futon with wide eyes and swollen lips, her chest heaving even through the bagginess of his sweatshirt.

“Yona, this can’t…” He says hoarsely, starting to pace in the space between the futon and the coffee table. “Suwon. He’s your boyfriend.”

“Was,” Yona says breathlessly. “He was my boyfriend. Now he isn’t.”

“You broke up literal hours ago.” He shakes his head.

He was the absolute worst to let this happen. Suwon’s girlfriend. He kissed his best friend’s girlfriend! It was bad enough that he’d been in love with her for longer than he could remember, even worse that Suwon was a great enough friend to never once be jealous of their close friendship despite that he’d known about Hak’s feelings. He was a terrible friend. Terrible to take advantage of Yona’s vulnerable state to let her kiss him. Terrible to break that trust Suwon held in him. Terrible all around.

“This is… this isn’t real. You don’t want this.” Hak stammers out.

“Yes I do,” Yona says, reaching out to catch the hem of his t-shirt.

“Yona, you’re hurt and tired.” Hak tells her, walking out of her reach. “Your first relationship is in a rough patch. You’re looking for comfort and you’re not thinking straight. I’m not going to let you do anything else you’ll regret. I…”

He trails off. He doesn’t want to say it, he doesn’t want to reduce that kiss into nothing. It meant so much to him. It felt so real and wonderful and right, like kissing her was something he was always meant to do.

“I can’t be your rebound.” He forces the words out and they taste bitter on his tongue.

Yona flinched. “Hak, you’re not—”

“I think we should go to bed.” He interrupts, too emotionally exhausted to deal with this anymore. “Sleep. We’ll have some breakfast and talk about it in the morning.”

“Hak—!”

“Yona, please.” He rubs his eyes with the heels of his palms. “Just… give it one night. Please.”

Yona looks as though she wants to argue, but she seems to think better of it and dips her head in acceptance. Without a word, she stands, grabs his blanket and drags it all back into his bedroom. It’s only after he hears the door click shut that he settles back on the futon and drops his head into his hands.

Hak awakens the next morning to the sound of a phone ringing. He sits up, feeling groggy and heavy from a restless night of tossing and turning. His first thought was that it was his phone, but his is sitting silently on the coffee table next to him. The ringing persists loudly, coming from the direction of the kitchen. From Yona’s handbag. Of course.

Hak lies back down, covering his face with his pillow. Soon it would be over. Soon they would talk it out and get back together. That was surely Suwon, calling to apologize and take back whatever had caused him to break up with her in the first place. He would have to admit to the kiss and offer to buy Suwon coffee for the next month to make it up to him.

The call passes, unanswered. But then the ringing starts again. Hak expects Yona to hear it, but the door to his bedroom remains closed with not a peep of movement on the other side. Figures. She sleeps like a rock.

Frustrated, he pulls himself out of bed and walks toward her bag. Maybe it was wrong or intrusive of him, but he wanted to be able to pass out for another few hours before he had to deal with that kiss again. He unbuttons the bag, rifling around tubes of lipstick and old shopping bills until he finds the shiny pink case of Yona’s smartphone. Sure enough, the person calling was Suwon. He tapped the green talk button.

“Hey,” No point beating around the bush and pretending it wasn’t him.

“Hak?” Suwon’s voice floods the receiver. He exhales in relief. “So she’s with you. That’s good. I was worried when she didn’t answer my texts, and even more worried when she didn’t answer the door.”

“She’s asleep.” Hak says. “I slept on the futon, don’t worry.”

“Oh, it’s okay. I wasn’t worried.” Suwon laughs gently.

He doesn’t question anything, or even wonder if anything unsavory had happened. Maybe it’s just that he knows how little Yona actually sees Hak as a viable love interest. Maybe it was less about trust, and more about knowledge. Maybe he’s always known Hak had only a sliver of a chance in hell compared to him. Maybe asking Hak before accepting Yona’s date had only been a courtesy.

Or maybe Hak was more jealous than he realized.

Hak shakes off the intrusive thoughts. This is his longtime best friend, practically his brother.

“When she wakes up, can you let her know I called? Tell her to call me back when she can.”

“Why don’t you drop by and pick her up? You could talk things out over breakfast.” Hak suggests, swallowing the lump that crawled up his throat.

“Oh no, I don’t have that much to say.” Suwon chuckles. “I just want to ask her if she’s free on friday so I can get all the stuff I left at her place.”

“What?” Hak blurts, shock flooding him. “You mean you aren’t calling to get back together?”

“What? No, of course not.” Suwon sounds genuinely puzzled.

Yona’s phone nearly slips from Hak’s fingers in his surprise. Not getting back together?

“But you have to!” The words tumble out of his mouth. “Yona will be crushed. You have to at least try to work it out. I… what happened? Maybe I can help you figure things out.”

“Hak, hang on a second… what do you think happened?”

“I think that you dumped her at the wedding.” Hak says, his voice growing unsure all of the sudden. “Which, by the way, was terrible. You should have at least waited until you brought her home.”

“She didn’t tell you…?” Suwon cursed. “Geeze Yona, learn to communicate.”

“Hey,”  Hak snaps, perhaps a little harsher than he intended. “Maybe take your own advice, since you’re clearly avoiding talking to her in person.”

Suwon sighs. “Hak, Yona broke up with me.”

Hak blinks once. “You’re full of shit.”

“I am not!” Suwon protests. “It was a mutual and amicable breakup, but she was the one to bring it up.”

“No, there’s no way.” Hak says, leaning heavily on the counter. There’s no way in hell. “She’s been in love with you since we were nine! She didn’t break up with you.”

“She did, Hak.”

“Then why did she show up on my doorstep sobbing?” He demands, just as he spots movement in the corner of his eye.

He spins around, not even hearing Suwon’s reply. Yona is standing at the door of his bedroom, her hair messy from sleep and her hands gripping tightly at the bottom of his sweatshirt. She nervously tucks hair behind her ear, but doesn’t say anything.

“I’m sorry,” Hak blurts. “I should have just brought the phone to you.”

“...Oh.” Suwon says on the other end of the line, a smile in his voice. “I’ll let you go. Tell Yona I said hi.”

Suwon ends the call and Hak swallows, taking the phone from his ear. Yona approaches slowly, releasing her grip on the sweatshirt as Hak starts to babble out more apologies. Wordlessly, she pulls herself to sit up on the counter, then presses a finger to his lips.

“Don’t worry about it.” She says.

Hak nods, willing his face not to heat from their proximity.

Yona sighs. “I have a lot to explain. Properly, this time.”

Hak nods sharply against her finger. Yes. Please do, I feel like I’m losing my mind.

Yona removes her finger from his lips, and reaches down to catch his hand instead. “So I’ve been rethinking my relationship with Suwon for weeks now.” Her eyes are fixated on their hands. She parts his fingers with her own, and he marvels how tiny her hands look next to his.

“I wasn’t in love with him, and neither was he with me.” She admits. “At least, not anymore. But honestly, I have my doubts whether we were ever in love.”

Hak’s mind spun. Good lord, of all the things he expected to hear in his lifetime, this had never been one of them.

“You have to understand, Hak. We haven’t acted much like a couple in a long time.”

“That’s not true,” Hak can’t help but interject. “You kissed and held hands every time Suwon came to visit when he was abroad.”

“And we only did so in front of other people. When we were alone do you think we did that?” She laughs. “No! When we were alone, we acted like friends. I don’t think we’ve even ever made out.”

Hak’s gaze jumps to hers, not quite believing her. “Then why keep dating so long?”

Yona bites her lower lip. “I-I don’t know, but I have a theory.” She sighs. “When Suwon returned from France, it was like I’d gotten back something from before Dad…”

She pauses, and Hak squeezes her hand in comfort.

“It felt kind of comforting, I guess. I always had a crush on Suwon throughout childhood. It was like I was reclaiming a part of my old life again if I leaned into that, even though so much had changed in that year.” She looks at Hak meaningfully. “And so much had changed, including my feelings. And I… I don’t know, I was scared of that change. Scared that I was losing myself, that if Dad was still alive, he wouldn’t recognize me anymore.”

Yona drops his hand and bites her lip, her eyes squeezing shut as though what she was about to say was difficult to force out. “But at that wedding, when I heard Kouren talk about what love is… I just knew we didn’t have it.” She shakes her head. “So I ended it then and there. Suwon seemed relieved, honestly.”

“Why the tears then?” Hak asks, his mind still reeling.

She looks at him, her cheeks flushed with colour. “Part of the reason I realized I wasn’t in love with Suwon was because I realized I was in love with someone else.” She reaches forward and catches his cheek against her palm. “But he had been dating another woman for six months and seemed very happy that way.”

Hak’s breath snags in his throat, his eyes widened in shock. Bullshit. It couldn’t be true. All these years he’s watched her, not once did he get even the slightest inkling that she could want him back. Not once.

And yet, the way she looks at him right now was like something straight out of his dreams. Her thumb strokes his cheek with tender affection, her eyes soft.

“After the wedding, I had to come see you. I needed to know if it was true. I couldn’t get a ride, so I walked from the bus-stop to your place… in the pouring rain.” She laughs. “In hindsight, probably not the best impression to make on the night I wanted to confess to you. But the minute you started taking care of me, even though I’d all but cut you off these past months, I just knew it was true. I guess that weird spike of annoyance I felt every time I saw you with Aro makes a lot more sense now.”

She pauses, collecting herself.

“I’m dropping a lot on you right now, I know.” She admits, narrowing her eyes. “I understand that I was way too forward last night, and that you probably need time to move on from Aro. But, I...I want to be with you, Hak. When you’re ready.”

He inhales as he reaches to cover the small hand at his cheek with his own.

“Well then,” He breathes, exhaling softly onto her face.

Her eyelashes flutter dreamily and her face grows red as a cherry. It occurs to him, with a shocked elation, that he has an effect on her. He leans forward and kisses her. Just a small peck on the lips, a promise for more, and pulls back only slightly.

“Hak,” She whispers, her voice breathless and layered with want.

“I’m ready.” He says, just before claiming her lips again.

[buyscentsblog-blog]

SCENTSY STORE An Incredibly Easy Method That Works For All

Candle lights have been a fundamental part of human society for hundreds of years. Originally, the only method to perhaps see as soon as the sunlight decreased, was from either torches, fires, or candlelight. Lanterns were not safe inside your home, and also walking from area to room carrying a portable fire place with you was not functional or feasible. Therefore, candle lights lit the method. Every little thing was done by candlelight once the sunlight collection, from performing one's jobs, reading, embroidery, and even authorizing the Constitution of the USA.

Candle lights likewise had a valuable objective in early China. There, they actually developed a kind of adjusted candle called a "candle light clock" that was utilized for keeping time. Weights were put right into the candle light at precise locations, and also when the wax thawed to a certain degree, the weights went down into a container below and made a noise. Picture what it would certainly resemble to have a candle alarm clock to get up by (don't attempt to strike the snooze switch), or to try to time your bread in the range based upon a candle clock?

Originally, candle lights were not used the high quality of wax that we have today. Rather, they were made from whale fat in China. Later on, Japan discovered how to extract wax from squirrels (don't ask me exactly how). In the Middle Ages, candle lights were often made from the fat of different pets, such as cows as well as sheep. The odor from manufacturing these types of candle lights, nonetheless, was so horrendous that several cities outlawed the manufacturing process. 

Those that made candle lights and also experimented with different types of products were called chandlers (where we get the word today "chandelier"). From the earliest of times, candle light manufacturers included aromas and fragrances to create the most effective aromatic candles. It began in China with the 'time clocks". Scent sticks were typically put right into the wax to include a wonderful fragrance. Actually, sometimes the scent was added at particular periods so that the change in scent, as opposed to the dropping of weights, indicated the change in time. Later on, India additionally discovered the fragrant advantages of making use of a wax made from steamed cinnamon for their candles. Unlike using animal fat, which smelled horrendously during the manufacturing process, making use of cinnamon gave a relaxing and aromatic scent.

In addition to experimenting with scented candles, some innovative candle makers also attempted to produce a smokeless candle. They comprehended what such an invention would certainly imply ... no more wick suggests say goodbye to fire! No question terminates beginning with candles were a fairly usual. Thomas Payne was one such individual. In the late 1700's he tried to create a smokeless candle light, yet was not able to do so. Benjamin Franklin additionally started off as a candle maker before he began his political occupation, as well as explore various types of products as well as methods for candle light making. However, it would certainly be centuries later on before such modern technology would be pioneered and wickless candle lights would be available broad spread.

One reason for the hold-up of fragrant as well as wickless candles is because candle lights were put on the back burner once kerosene lights were created. Then, candle lights practically came to be entirely extinct upon the innovation of the light bulb later on at the end of the 19th century.

Nonetheless, in the 1980's as well as particularly in the 1990's, the rejuvenation of the popularity of candles became an international phenomenon. This scheduled partly to their ornamental value, however also to their ability to permit the stressed out, contemporary, over-worked property owner an opportunity to create a stress-free environment making use of the aromatherapy of aromatic candles. At the same time, awareness over air top quality and health conditions such as bronchial asthma as well as allergic reactions caused the expedition for a much more risk-free as well as healthy and balanced, eco-friendly aromatic candle light. Once more, the search for a flameless candle light began, and also once again, aroma, or scent, came to be really crucial.

Equipped with the contemporary electrical age, the development of a flameless aromatic candle light came to be possible. Scentsy is usually credited as the business that developed wickless aromatic candles in the year 2004 and also satisfied the requirement in the marketplace for a healthy, secure, ecologically clean and aromatic candle that melts a premium quality wax without a fire. Buy Scentsy Online in our ScentsWarmer store. A low voltage light bulb makes use of an attractive option of ceramic warmers to warm an aromatic wax bar with a very long life. Fragrant wax bars can be combined and matched to develop personalized scents. This enables each client to be their very own "chandler", or "candle light manufacturer" as they personalize their very own candle light and candle warmer to match their private taste.

[whitemagiccandles]

Scented Melts

Scented melts are an increasingly popular flameless fragrance option that’s gaining popularity with candle lovers. They offer more convenience, are safer than candles, and are much more eco-friendly.

They come in a variety of shapes, sizes, and scents, and can be warmed in a warmer with an unscented tea light. They’re an easy and inexpensive way to fill your home with the scent of your favorite essential oil or fragrance.

Safer alternative to candles

If you’re concerned about health issues like respiratory problems, air pollution and cancer-causing agents released by candles, scented melts may be the solution for you. These wickless candles are made from renewable waxes, which do not release toxins into the air.

They also burn more slowly and release their fragrances over time, without any smoke or soot that can be harmful to your lungs. They’re a safer alternative to traditional candles and they can even be used in areas where candles aren’t allowed.

Scented melts can be melted in a wax warmer, which comes in the form of an electric burner or tea light burner. Once melted, the scented wax will release a stronger and more consistent fragrance than candles.

Another advantage of scented melts is that they come in snap-off cubes, so you can easily control the strength of the fragrances to suit your mood. Some also offer a simple portion control system, so you can break off small cubes and use them as you need.

Easy to make

Scented melts are easy to make and perfect for gifting. They can be made using soy wax, paraffin or beeswax.

They can also be scented with essential oils or fragrance oil. They are an alternative to scented candles and plugins, which can contain harmful chemicals.

To make scented melts, start by heating coconut oil and soy wax flakes in a double boiler. Add a few drops of your preferred scents and stir well.

Once the ingredients are melted, pour them into your molds. Let them cool and you're ready to start making your own scented wax melts.

If you want to add color to your melts, you can do this by adding a pinch of wax dye chips to the mixture before melting it in the microwave. Keep in mind that this will change the color of your wax, so it's best to check it on a piece of parchment paper before you pour it into your molds.

Long-lasting fragrances

Scented melts are a great alternative to candles because they can provide long-lasting fragrances. They are made from a combination of natural and synthetic ingredients. They can last up to two years if stored properly.

They also burn slower than candles and release fragrance more evenly into the air. This means that you can enjoy the same smell for days or even weeks before it starts to fade.

However, how long your wax melts will last depends on a few factors, such as the type of scent and the way they are stored. If you store your wax melts in a cool, dry place away from direct sunlight or heat sources, they can last longer.

Another factor that affects how long your wax melts last is the type of fragrance oil mixed into them. Fragrance oils can bind to certain waxes, so a higher percentage of fragrance oil will generally last longer.

Easy to transport

Scented melts are easy to transport in a variety of ways. Whether you are traveling by car or bus, they are easy to slip into the glove compartment of your favorite ride. They are also a good choice for small spaces with limited floor space, such as bathrooms and kitchens. In addition, scented wax melts are a safe and eco-friendly alternative to traditional candles. The best part is that they can be used for long periods of time with minimal maintenance. This is especially true of a quality wax melt, which will keep its scent for days on end. The best way to ensure that your scented waxes last is by following the wax manufacturer’s guidelines for cleaning and storage. You can also consider purchasing a wax warmer that is designed specifically for scented waxes, so you don’t have to worry about spills or leaks.

[sassyshopwaxltd]

Melt to Unwind: Transforming Your Space with Electric Wax Melt Burners

Are you tired of coming home to a space without that inviting, cosy aroma? Do you dream of creating an ambience that looks great and smells fantastic? Well, it's time to discover the secret to transforming your space into a haven of relaxation and rejuvenation. In this post, we will delve into the world of electric wax melt burners and home fragrance sprays. So, let's dive in!

Electric Wax Melt Burners: Igniting the Senses

-         Unleashing Aromatherapy in Your Home

Electric wax melt burners are not just decorative pieces but the gateway to a world of captivating scents. These devices work by gently melting scented wax, releasing its fragrance into the air. It's like a spa day for your senses right in the comfort of your home.

How Do They Work? It's simple. Plug in your electric wax melt burner, place a scented wax cube in the dish, turn it on, and watch as the wax gradually liquefies. As it does, it releases its mesmerising aroma into the room. It is a safer alternative to traditional candles, as there's no open flame involved.

-         The Magic of Customization

One of the most fantastic aspects of electric wax melt burners is the ability to mix and match scents. Want to create a calming lavender and vanilla blend for your bedroom? Or perhaps a zesty citrus fusion for the kitchen? You're in control! Combine wax cubes to curate your personalised fragrance profile.

Home Fragrance Spray: Instant Atmosphere Enhancement

-         Spray Your Way to a Delightful Home

Home fragrance sprays are the secret weapon for instant atmosphere enhancement. They are a quick and efficient way to infuse any space with a burst of delightful fragrance. Unlike electric wax melt burners, which require a bit of time to work their magic, a home fragrance spray offers an instantaneous fragrance boost.

-         Versatility in a Bottle

These sprays come in a wide array of scents, from soothing lavender to refreshing citrus. They can be used virtually anywhere, from your living room to your linens. A quick spray can transform your environment and elevate your mood. Keep a bottle in your bag and spritz it in your office, car, or any room that needs a pick-me-up.

Creating the Perfect Atmosphere: Combining Burners and Sprays

●     The Ultimate Synergy

For the ultimate olfactory experience, why not combine electric wax melt burners and home fragrance sprays? Use the burner to establish a consistent base aroma in a room, and then use the spray to add an extra burst of freshness whenever you desire. This combination allows you to create a dynamic and ever-changing atmosphere in your home.

●     Harmonising Scents

Choose fragrance sprays that complement the wax melts you use to ensure your scents harmonise. For example, if you have a vanilla-scented wax in your burner, a vanilla-scented spray will create a seamless transition when you use the spray.

The Bottom Line: Aromatherapy at Your Fingertips

With their versatility, safety, and customization options, you have the power to transform your space into a fragrant haven with electric wax melt burners and home fragrance sprays. So, why wait? Plug in that burner, grab your favourite spray, and let the aromatherapy journey begin. Your senses will thank you, and your home will never have felt so inviting.