#Steam cleaning Silver Spring

[cleaningsilverspring]

Why Diy Doesn't Always Cut It: The Importance Of Professional Stain Removal Services In Silver Spring

The art of stain removal can be a tricky one; for those who don't know what they are doing, it can often feel like an insurmountable task.

Much like the saying 'if it's not broken, don't fix it,' DIY stain removal isn't always the right solution - and Silver Spring residents should be aware that professional services are essential in removing some stains.

Like a butterfly breaking free of its chrysalis, professional stain removal services offer solutions to problems where DIY methods have failed.

It is time to explore why these services are so important and how they can benefit homeowners in Silver Spring.

The Limitations of DIY Stain Removal: Understanding Why Some Stains Need Professional Treatment

When attempting to remove a stain, it is vital to consider the type of stain and its age, as DIY approaches may not effectively handle deeper or more complex stains.

This is especially true in Silver Spring, where difficult-to-remove stains can be found on many different surfaces and materials.

Even with the best intentions and diligent effort, some stains simply require the expertise of a professional.

Prolific Steamers are experienced professionals in this field and can provide reliable services for any type of stain removal Silver Spring.

They have specialized equipment that allows them to tackle even the toughest of stains while preserving the integrity of the material underneath.

Their knowledge also ensures that they use safe cleaning products that won’t damage the surface or leave behind any residues.

With their help, you can rest easy knowing your home will look like new without any risk or hassle on your part.

The Science Behind Stain Removal: Why Professional Services in Silver Spring Outperform Over-the-Counter Solutions

A comparison of at-home and professional stain removal techniques reveals that the latter often proves more effective in achieving desired results. This is largely due to the fact that professional services have access to specialized cleaning products:

Industrial-grade solvents powerful enough to break down stubborn stains and oils;

Specialized enzymes that can attack organic materials like food and blood;

Surfactants, which help lift away greases without damaging delicate fabrics.

When it comes to tackling tough stains, these products are far superior to the over-the-counter solutions available at local stores in Silver Spring.

In addition, professionals have an intimate knowledge of how different fabrics react with various cleaners, allowing them to tailor their approach for each job and ensure better outcomes than DIY efforts could achieve.

Protecting Your Investment: How Professional Stain Removal Can Extend the Life of Your Carpets and Upholstery

By utilizing specialized cleaning products and tailoring their approach to the specific fabric, professional stain removal experts are able to offer a deeper level of protection for valuable carpets and upholstery, extending their life far beyond that achievable through DIY efforts.

Professional services are designed to remove not just the surface stain but also the underlying substances causing it, preventing damage caused by leaving them untreated. This can be especially beneficial for items with complex fibers such as silk or velvet, where solutions used in over-the-counter cleaning products may cause more harm than good.

Regular professional cleaning is an essential part of protecting these items from wear and tear and preserving their condition for longer periods of time. Not only does this provide peace of mind that your investments will remain in pristine condition, but it can also save money in the long run since you won't have to replace them prematurely due to damage caused by staining.

For those living in Silver Spring, there are numerous reputable companies offering reliable services at competitive rates - making it easy to keep your carpets and upholstery looking great year after year.

Spotlight on Safety: The Health Risks of DIY Stain Removal and Why Professional Services are a Safer Option

Given the potential health hazards associated with DIY stain removal, it is essential to determine the safety benefits of utilizing professional services.

Professional stain removal companies are trained in safe cleaning practices and use products that are effective yet safe for household use. This can be beneficial for households with young children, elderly people, or those with allergies or sensitivities.

Harsh chemicals used in DIY stain removal can cause skin irritation and respiratory problems if not handled properly. Additionally, inadequate removal of allergens or pathogens can lead to an increased risk of illness.

Professional stain removal services have access to a wide range of products specifically designed to remove stains safely and effectively while minimizing any potential risks. These products are also more likely to be successful at removing difficult stains that may require special attention.

Finally, professional services often come with warranties or guarantees so consumers have peace of mind knowing their carpets and upholstery will be restored correctly the first time around.

All in all, investing in professional stain removal services is a safer option than attempting DIY solutions which carry inherent risks due to lack of knowledge and experience.

Conclusion

The importance of professional stain removal services in Silver Spring is clear. With the right combination of expertise, cleaning products and equipment, these services can effectively and safely tackle a wide range of stains. Not only do they save time and energy, but they also protect carpets and upholstery from further damage.

Imagine a clean, fresh-smelling home where all traces of dirt and discoloration have been removed—a home that looks spotless for years to come. Professional stain removal services in Silver Spring make this dream a reality.

Investing in these services ensures that carpets and upholstery remain beautiful for years to come while avoiding potentially dangerous DIY solutions.

Prolific Steamers

Williamsburg Dr, Silver Spring, MD 20901

Phone: (410) 253-9940

[jiubilant]

ft. @zurin's character, casair

“It purports,” says the Headmaster of the Bards’ College, raising a classical brow, “to be the oldest teahouse in the City of Stone.”

“So does that one,” says the Archmage of Winterhold, nodding across the street. “And that one. And the, the one on Temple Way, remember, with all the trellises—”

“Please come in, messeri,” cries the girl sweeping the hearth, “or you’ll let out the cat—Pangur, no!”

They scramble to shut the door, of course. Then, of course, they have no choice but to let the girl take their cloaks hostage, to be ushered to the corner table with the charming brass lamp, and to murmur amused greetings at the house’s proprietor: a venerable gib-cat, puddled half-asleep by the fire, who blinks at them without moving a paw.

“Let out the cat,” mutters Viarmo when the girl—who knows her own cleverness, judging by her smile—has hurried out of earshot for their cups. He gestures with theatrical indignation to the hearth. “Beast didn’t even deign to roll over.”

He brushes his bright velvet doublet as if ridding it of fur. The Archmage smiles.

Whatever’s sprung up between them over the past month, he thinks, will likely end today. He’s leaving the City of Stone tomorrow—for his ice fortress, as Vjar’s put it. He’s missed it, his College: the blinding ice, the air that crystallizes in the lungs, the cold, clean vastness of the sea. The seals bawling at gulls. The gulls squalling at seals. His wonder-workers shuffling about with wind-flushed faces, blowing on their hands, stamping the snow from their boots in the entrance-hall.

But he’ll miss Markarth, too, against his better judgment—

“You won’t regret choosing the Juniper Tree,” chirps the girl, bustling back with teacups and tray. “They serve dishwater on Temple Way. Pilgrims can’t tell the difference, you know. Melze!”

She rattles out the teapot and an array of brimming bowls: honey, sugar-shavings, blackberries cooked in syrup. A silver ewer of warm milk. A carafe of cool water, and a carafe of hot. The Archmage watches with growing surprise and delight; Viarmo watches with amusement, rearranging the bowls when it looks as though the girl will run out of table.

“Melze?” he asks, catching a desperate teacup without turning a hair. The man is nine-tenths pomade.

“Tea in the dwarven style,” says the Archmage, smiling. A memory he’d thought lost returns to him: himself in a melzeruhn with his father and sister, holding his cup with both hands, sitting on two cushions in order to see over the table. “It was popular in Narsis when I was a scrib. You fix it up yourself. I didn’t know it ever crossed the Velothis—”

“This was a dwarven city, once,” says the girl with a dimpled smile. “It’s our house blend, messere, so it may surprise you.”

He suspects that it will. He hasn’t had melze in two hundred years.

“Let me,” he says when Viarmo reaches for the teapot to pour. Then, against his better judgment: “I ought to know by now what you like.”

Nothing ventured, he thinks a little desperately in the silence that follows. The big beringed hand pauses in the steam. Above it, Viarmo gives him a long, leonine look.

“Yes,” he concedes at last, nudging the teapot across the table. Their fingers almost brush. “Will I see you at that colloquium, come spring?”

* * *

The House of Dibella’s conservationist, after several minutes of scholarly rumination on her pen, rubs her face and looks up from her précis. The Juniper Tree is crowded this afternoon, she thinks with dry surprise; apart from herself, she counts two customers.

“Cottia,” she calls in the Reachling tongue of their mothers, reaching across the table for her cup: tart juniper tea, not the Nchuand brew that charms the lowlanders. “I’d like something else to chew on, please—”

“Bannuc!” her cousin announces, and drops a wedge of the hot, fluffy barley-cake on the conservationist’s notes. Then she drops herself into the adjacent chair, her eyes twinkling with the promise of some mischief. “Fresh from the stone. Do you think they’re rich, Casair?”

The glittering old gentlemen at the corner table, absorbed in a lively Haafing conversation about lausavísur, seem in no danger of understanding them. Casair counts their gleaming rings and raises her eyebrows. “Why?”

“They didn’t ask the price of the tea service.” Cottia grins like that cat. “Should I charge them double?”

[rip-regulus]

random things I associate with the valkyries

lily - flowers, having a picnic in spring, freckles, collecting pretty shells and rocks, wavy auburn hair, sunlight filtering in through curtains, baker boy hats, knees being covered in grass, red mary janes, stomach rolls, strawberries, bicycles with a basket in front, cardigans, sisterhood, pastries, feminism, herbal tea, lacy lingerie, moss covered statues, a tire swing attached to a tree, academic burnout, eye creasing smiles, little women, hanging laundry up to dry in the sun, hair rollers, being nostalgic

marlene - pop of red, rock star gf aesthetic, carabiners, a car wash, wolf cuts, cherries, pool tables, tramp stamps, black waterline, smirnoff vodka, electric guitar, roller skates, kissing girls, motels, bleaching your hair, tooth gap, skin picking, talking in a bathroom, arguing with men, dangling your legs off a balcony, traffic lights, slogan baby tees, knee high socks, cherry coke, kitchen countertops, the sex pistols, retro radios, glitter in a kesha way, photo booth pictures

mary - fur coats, kiss marks, grwm videos, heart shaped sunglasses, an open plan apartment, clubbing, hot chocolate, a cluttered vanity, victoria’s secret, hip tattoos, fire escape ladders, slumber parties, survivors guilt, sabrina carpenter, the big apple, writing with lipstick on a mirror, bread with jam, valentines day, bay window seats, kitten heels, sims 4, white wine, sex in the city, silk robes, vogue magazine, hibiscus, curly hair, steam rooms, vanilla perfume, a walk in wardrobe

dorcas - the night sky, silver jewellery, clean girl, rage rooms, braids, enemies to lovers trope, hands, blackberries, silhouettes, dark skin, a haunted mansion, twisted tree branches, body oil, sirens, pillar candles, an antique silver plated tea set, cowl neck slip dresses, a coffin, black loafers, chocolate ice cream, a really deep well, dark purple, a brass tap, revenge, the horror genre, jasmine tea, padlocks

pandora - luna moths, a tarot card deck, walking bare foot, hallucinating, puss in boots, having a gut feeling, crystals, mushrooms, translucent fish, foggy landscapes, trinkets, mythical creatures, platinum blonde hair, incense, lilac, candlelit baths, heart lockets, baby’s breath, lambs, science, fever dreams, aquariums, getting white clothes dirty, maximalism, haunted dolls, glass bottles, rock spirals, mosaic tiles, guardian angels, canopy bed curtains, a lighthouse

[maladaptive-ninja-returns]

New World (6)

Itachi Uchiha x Reader Fluff

Summary: The world War has met its end and Itachi has returned to his village. He questions whether he should set down his roots here when he meets a stranger. Or rather, a stranger is forced upon him by fate.

Warnings: old men and their rituals

Word Count: @justiceiswater your comment is the reason I got myself to write this chapter quickly.

MASTERLIST in bio, darlings. Tags are open (check bio)

When one thinks about a Bamboo Village, one imagines bamboo being a part of every household in that village. But what we are looking at, or rather, walking through- does not do justice to the name. The entrance of the village is the endless lush bamboo trees with the freshest tone of green; grown up as if to infinity, but never preventing the sunrays from bouncing through the sturdy mesh throughout this little forest. The filtered sun rays are welcomed by your sun-starved skin, bringing a much-needed calmness to your mind as your lips curve into a smile and your eyes close to face the direction of the filtering sun.

Itachi is watching the worry wash away from your face slowly but surely. That little guarded emotion in his chest seems to have eased up a little on seeing you smile at the scenic entrance and the warming sun. And in place of that guarded emotion, another hue of something heavier- but positive- seems to take place. His mind is curious as to what is this new feeling in his chest. But his eyes are stuck on you. Those dark pupils are somewhat lighter in today's sun.

"Welcome to the Bamboo Village! Our humble home," the Chief announces from above his ride and Naruto is the first one to gasp in bewilderment. Where the bamboos end starts an entire village at the edge of a hill made structures entirely out of bamboos- bridges, houses, furniture, you name it. And at the top of the hill sits a lone structure etched in stone- a temple.

The village is lively with the happy cries of children and surprisingly melodious calls of merchants and hawkers in the marketplace. "There's the hot springs!" Naruto points to the farther edge of the village where the caravan can see steam rising by the end of the hill crafted into smoother edges. Before Naruto can break into a dash for it, Kakashi grabs him by the collar. Chief chuckles at the agitated yellow-haired ninja. "You can soak in the hot springs all want. But before that, I would like you to meet our village elders. At the temple. Come. They have been around for about hundred years now-" he continues to talk while directing his ox towards the road that leads to the temple, and the rest follow- "so it is safe to say there is no one wiser than them in our homeland. And they will be able to explain our problem better than us. And then hopefully, Kakashi, you will be able to help us." Kakashi smiles under his mask. "As long as my comrades are safe, we are willing to help in any way we can." He does not look behind him but he- along with the rest of the members- can sense the heat of guilt rising in Fukaboshi and Izo's cheeks. Itachi can make out that they do not want to be here but they cannot say no to the chief's orders after the massive blow he has given to their egos. It does make our village's assassin happy internally.

The road finally ends up to a huge staircase, where the animals are left and the caravan climbs on foot, leading to a courtyard which overlooks the mountains and hills surrounding them and a clean breath of air gently plays around the temple in the centre of it all. Everyone stands at the steps of the temple door. The Chief takes a step to the door to bow in respect, a signal for the two elders chanting hymns inside the temple to get up and be greeted by the guests waiting outside. Fukaboshi and Izo are standing at either end of the group while Kakashi is humble enough to wait at the back and let the young ones be the first to receive the blessings. But that does to stop the Konoha's silver blade from having his eyes and ears out for any movement out of the ordinary. Even though Kozuki seems to have joined him at the back with a suppressed smile that does not seem suspicious at all. Itachi, on the other hand, seems to have an itch because suddenly, you are standing in the very front with Toge taking the place next to you. Naruto standing on your other side and Nami is standing behind Toge, trying to get a good look at the two bowls being picked up by the temple monks with purple and golden beads in one hand. "Wait-" Nami sounds confused- "Kakashi that is a-" "Do not speak unless you are spoken to," Toge tuts from the front, cutting out whatever it is that Nami is about to speak. "But-" Izo shushes Nami, for which the latter takes full offence. One monk takes the string of purple beads in one hand and the other takes a string of golden ones. Both of them start to sing a deep-throated hymn as they step down the stairs. Itachi furrows his brows at the shade of fear setting in Nami's eyes. The monks have stepped down and are now standing in front of the group. The elder of the two dips his fingers in the copper bowl in his hand and takes them out to sprinkle it over you and Toge. "What's wrong?" Itachi whispers, leaning towards Nami. And suddenly as if a thought strikes her as his voice collides with her thoughts, she grabs the back of Toge's jacket and pulls him back, while at the same time using her other free hand to push Itachi forward in Toge's position instead. "WHAT THE-" Toge is hushed by the second monk. While he is trying to make sense of what just happened, the monk takes your left hand and ties the string of purple beads on your wrist. Next, he takes Itachi's right hand and ties the golden beads on his wrist. The bowl is used again to sprinkle the contents on both of you, with the hymn still going. "Can I have one too?" Naruto whispers in the direction of the monks, grinning with all of his teeth.

Kakashi can see from the back the flustered and confused expression of the chief, who seems to want to stop the monks but isn't allowed to do so for fear of stopping something sacred. Unlike him, Fukaboshi and Izo are facepalming themselves discreetly before the former- who is also standing closer to Toge- whispers through his teeth, "You had one job." The elder monk takes the string-wrapped wrists of both of you and puts your hand in Itachi's, chanting something known only to the elders. You stand there with no thoughts behind your eyes, only following what the monks do. Itachi is trying to calculate the base of this ritual. The second monk dips his finger in his bowl and out comes the index painted red, which lands on your palm to draw one single symbol. And with that, the chanting comes to an end.

Toge is breathing furiously, his face red with anger as he glares at Nami with the intent of murder. You curiously look into your palm to make sense of the symbol. The monks bow to the chief and the caravan. "Shinzo-san, these are our guests!" the Chief explains, exasperated. Suddenly a chuckle bursts out of Kozuki that slowly turns into a cackle. Kakashi tilts his head in confusion. "Did we do something wrong?" You and Itachi look at each other with a blank gaze, neither of moving your hands away. A single crow continuously croaks at the edge of the temple roof, as if he too is laughing at something. "What's so funny, Kozuki?" Naruto shouts, "And why won't the monk-sama give me these beads?" he tries to grab one in the second monk's belt. His hand is thwapped away with a smack on his wrist at the speed of lightning, the elder never breaking from that peaceful glow on his face. "Izo!" the chief shouts in anger, "is this your doing as well??!" The old man seems to be at his wit's end. Kozuki is clapping and laughing like a seal by now until her stomach hurts and she moves in front of the group to finally look at your disoriented figure waiting for answers. "Congratulations!" She exclaims with pure joy, her voice reverberating through the temple, "Uchiha Itachi and Y/L/N Y/N, by the powers vested in these old monks by our Gods, you are now officially married!!"

[ask-barbatos]

A Guide to Camellia Sinensis

Dear students, allow me to share a small glimpse into the world of tea, a beverage that has brought comfort and joy to countless souls for millennia. The heart of true tea lies in the Camellia sinensis plant, a highly cultivated plant native to East Asia.

From the lush fields of China to the mist-kissed mountains of India, this plant has been cultivated with great care, its leaves steeped in hot water to create a beverage of unparalleled beauty and complexity.

The cut of the tea leaf plays a significant role in its flavor and character. Whole leaves, broken leaves, fannings, and dust each offer a unique experience, from the robust to the delicate.

Whole leaves, for instance, provide a full-bodied flavor and a long-lasting infusion, making them a popular choice for those seeking a traditional tea experience.

Broken leaves, on the other hand, offer a more intense flavor and a quicker steeping time, making them ideal for those who prefer a stronger brew.

Fannings and dust, the smallest particles of tea, offer a rapid infusion and a concentrated flavor, perfect for those who are short on time or simply desire a strong cup of tea.

Pictured above: Taylor's English Breakfast tea on the left and Taylor's Earl Grey on the right, to demonstrate the visual difference between whole and cut.

The preparation process, from the gentle steeping of Chinese gongfu cha to the robust brewing techniques of Western tea culture, can dramatically alter the taste and aroma of your tea.

Chinese gongfu cha, for example, involves using small, porcelain teapots and cups, and steeping the tea for very short periods of time. This method allows for a more delicate and nuanced flavor profile.

Western tea culture, on the other hand, often involves steeping tea in larger teapots for longer periods of time, resulting in a bolder and more robust flavor.

I invite you, students, to embark on a journey of tea discovery. Explore the vast world of Camellia sinensis, from the subtle nuances of white tea to the bold flavors of black tea. With each sip, you may find a new appreciation for the simple pleasures of life.

Now, let us delve deeper into the popular cuts of tea and their preferred preparation methods.

White Tea:

Cut: Often consists of young whole leaves or buds that have been minimally processed.

Preparation: Gentle steeping in cool water for a short period to preserve its delicate flavor and light color.

Flavor: Known for its subtle, floral, and slightly sweet taste.

Green Tea:

Cut: Typically consists of whole leaves or broken leaves that have been steamed or pan-fried to prevent oxidation.

Preparation: Steeping in hot water for a short period to retain its fresh, grassy flavor and vibrant green color.

Flavor: Varies widely depending on the specific type of green tea, but often characterized by a clean, grassy, or vegetal taste.

Oolong Tea:

Cut: Can vary from whole leaves to broken leaves, but is often partially oxidized, resulting in a unique flavor profile between green and black teas.

Preparation: Steeping in hot water for a longer period, allowing the leaves to fully bloom and release their complex flavors.

Flavor: Offers a wide range of flavors, from floral and fruity to nutty and earthy.

Black Tea:

Cut: Typically consists of broken leaves or fannings that have been fully oxidized.

Preparation: Steeping in boiling water for a longer period to extract its strong, bold flavors.

Flavor: Known for its rich, full-bodied taste, often with notes of chocolate, caramel, or spice.

Each type of tea offers a unique experience, and the best way to appreciate their individual qualities is to experiment with different preparation methods and steeping times. So, dear mortals, I encourage you to embark on a journey of tea discovery and savor the beauty of Camellia sinensis.

Various definitions:

First Flush: The first cuttings of the plant in early spring, often yielding a higher quality tea.

Silver Tips: A white tea made from the delicate buds of a tea plant.

Below is a table indicating steep times:

Notes:

This table provides a general guideline. Steeping time and temperature can vary depending on the specific tea and desired flavor strength.

Some teas, like white tea, benefit from multiple short infusions instead of a single long steep.

Experiment with different steeping times and temperatures to find your perfect cup.

Water temperature is crucial. Using water that is too hot can burn the tea leaves, resulting in a bitter taste.

The more water is heated, the more oxygen is released from the water. The oxygen is important to bring out the flavor of your tea, so please be vigilant as to not exceed your water temperature. A great tool for novices and experts alike would be a temperature controlled electric kettle.

In addition to the cut of the tea leaf and the preparation method, the quality of the water used can also significantly impact the taste of your tea. Soft, mineral-free water is generally preferred for tea brewing, as it allows the delicate flavors of the tea to shine through without being overwhelmed by strong mineral tastes.

A good starting point would be mountain spring water or filtered water, specifically with as neutral a pH as possible. Distilled water is not recommended, although neutral in pH, lacks the oxygen needed to bring out the sublime flavor in tea.

Hard water, on the other hand, contains high levels of minerals, such as calcium and magnesium. These minerals can react with the tannins in tea, creating a bitter or astringent taste. While some people may enjoy the added flavor complexity that hard water can impart, it is generally best to use soft water for optimal tea flavor.

If you live in an area with hard water, consider using a water filter or a mineral remover to soften the water before brewing your tea. This can make a noticeable difference in the taste and overall quality of your beverage.

Next subject will include flavor infused teas such as Jasmine, Earl Grey, and Fruit teas.

[aurborsau]

❆ Perfect strangers ❆

— paring: Terry silver/Daniel LaRusso

— genre: omegaverse

— word count: 3,291

— rating: mature

[ao3 link]

summary - Daniel rents a cabin in the middle of nowhere during winter break for an important job interview, but it just so happens that the cabins been double-booked.

Daniel had finally secured an interview for the job opportunity of his dreams.

The only catch was that it was in Michigan, and he had just two days to get there. With winter break in full swing, his options for accommodation were limited. The only available option was a cabin deep in the woods.

but it just so happens that the cabins been double-booked. The man who rented the place before him introducing himself as Terry Silver. Daniel could smell the Alpha even from outside the snow covered cabin, a sharp, musky aroma consuming him the second he opened the door. Even on his blockers, Daniel couldn’t deny his attraction to the Tall, handsome, Alpha. He found himself instinctively following Terry inside as they tried to resolve the rental mishap. The man was surprisingly kind, assisting him with his bag and taking his jacket to hang it on the hook.

“I’ll just drive back to town and see if I can find a motel or something.” Daniel offers.

“No.” Terry is quick to interrupt. “Your not going out there, especially not with that storm that’s going to be rolling through here any minute.”

Daniel remembers checking the forecast earlier that day and seeing a blizzard rolling through the area. “Look. I don’t mind sleeping in my car, I would understand if you were hesitant about sleeping under the same roof as an Alpha.” Terrys piercing, blue eyes never leaving his.

“Maybe I am a little hesitant.” Daniel admits. “But I’m not going to make you sleep in your car. It’s freezing out there.”

Terry chuckled softly, the warmth of his laughter filling the small cabin. "Daniel, it's alright. I insist, I wouldn’t want to make you uncomfortable.” It was strange, but he found himself trusting this stranger. “Hey, you know what? the place is big enough for the both of us, and I’m on scent-blockers so I don’t think we have to worry about anything like that.” Daniel hinted, trying to hide the blush that's spreading across his cheeks at the thought of something happening between them. He swallows hard, feeling the Alpha's gaze burning into him. “Right, that would make the most sense wouldn’t it…? I’ll sleep on the couch.” Terry insistent, and Daniel takes in the man’s tall stature, the couch far too small to accommodate his size. “your not-“

“It’s decided.” Terry interrupts. “You must’ve been driving all day, I'm not letting you sleep on this old bag of springs.” Daniel agreed, still a bit flustered but trying to shake it off. “Thank you, Terry.” He nodded. “Of course... If you’d like to wash up, there’s a bathroom just there.” He pointed to the door on the left.

“I appreciate it." Daniel replied, walking towards the bathroom with his pile of clean clothes from his bag. He took a deep breath to calm his nerves, locking the door behind him. He could smell the Alpha on his clothes, in his hair, on his skin. His scent was so intoxicating despite not even touching the boy.

He began to wash up, ridding himself of the tension and sweat from a long day of driving. Turning off the tap, he stepped out onto the tile and swiped his hand over the steamed up mirror. He grabbed his comb from the pile of clothes sitting on the sink, brushing through his hair and parting it down the middle like he usually did, his bangs framing his face. He dried himself off with a towel, trying not to think about the fact that the Alpha was just outside the door, waiting.

As he finished drying himself, he picked up his clothes from the sink: a tiny pair of shorts and an oversized white tee, his hard nipples peaking through the thin fabric.

When he stepped out of the bathroom, the aroma of soup filled his nostrils, clouding the scent of the alpha just slightly. Two bowls of soup, a bottle of wine and two glasses sat on the table. The fireplace was set ablaze, as well as the candles that adorned the mantle.

Terry stopped in his tracks upon Daniels arrival, eyeing his body as steam dispersed from behind him as he walked out of the bathroom. His eyes swept over the boy's body, taking in every inch. He could see the blush spreading across Daniel's cheeks as he looked away quickly, a small smile tugging at the corner of Terry's lips. He cleared his throat, forcing himself to look away from Daniel's tempting body and back to the table. "Are you hungry? Canned foods was all that was left.”

“Uh… yeah." He said, his stomach growling audibly as he approached the table, sitting down carefully, trying not to let the shorts ride up any further than they already were. Terry sat down across from him, pouring them both a glass of wine. He took a small sip of the crimson liquid, his eyes darting between Terry and the food on the table, the wine was smooth, going down his throat like silk. He took a sip of his soup, savoring the warmth as it spread through his body. His abdomen ached slightly, a heat settling low in his stomach that refused to rest.

Daniel then looked at his watch. Reading 10:30 PM. groaning. he suddenly remembered he forgot to take his suppressants for the night, already feeling the withdrawal symptoms creeping up. He got up to rifle through his duffel bag, searching for that little round case that held his suppresses, but he was met with nothing but toiletries and other various items.

Terry watched as Daniel rummaged through his bag, a brow raised in confusion. “What are you looking for?” He questioned. "My suppressants... I can’t find them." Daniel replied, going to check the pockets of his jacket and sifting through his dirty laundry to no avail. “You must have dropped them in your car.” Terry offers, giving Daniel a gleam of hope. That is until he looks out the window and sees that his car is covered in a heavy pile of snow. He had heard the hailstones clattering against the roof while he was in the shower, but he only expected a mere snowfall. “The storm should stop by the morning. You’ll get it then.” Daniel bit his lip in uncertainty. Usually if he missed a day, it was fine. Though, he still worried that being in such close proximity to the Alpha would effect him.

Terry seemed to sense the apprehension on his face, the way Daniel bit his lip as he peered anxiously through the frost covered window. “Daniel.” He came back to reality the second he heard the Alphas voice. “It’s going to be alright. Trust me. Just come sit down before your food gets cold.” He found himself mindlessly complying to his orders, sitting down on the chair across from him.

Terry brought their dishes to the sink after they finished, Daniel could suddenly feel his shoulders start to tense up, his mating gland tender to the touch. A choked out “ah” leaving his lips as he kneaded his shoulder, Terry looked over at the sound, his eyes softening as he saw Daniel's discomfort. “Everything alright?” His tone, soothing.“Yeah, no I’m good" He mumbled, biting his lip nervously. “My necks just a little stiff is all.” He explained, his eyes straying to the fireplace, anywhere but meeting Terry's eyes.

He approached the boy, his warm hands coming to rest on Daniel's delicate shoulders. “Here,” He murmured, pushing gently at his neck. The second his rough hands made contact with his skin, it felt as if a jolt of electricity shot through his entire body. The tingling sensation spread like wildfire, every nerve ending set ablaze by a single touch. Daniel couldn't help the small moan that escaped him, the Alpha’s touch being everything he didn’t know he needed. He heard a groan come from the man above him as he pinched his scent gland, releasing pheromones that filled the small cabin. Terry continued to knead at his shoulders, grinding his knuckles into the tense muscles, eliciting soft whimpers from the boy. Daniel's eyes fluttered shut, his body shivering slightly under the Alpha’s touch. He bit his bottom lip, trying to stifle another moan that threatened to escape his lips. “That’s it.” He soothed. “Let me take care of you," he whispered, his hot breath fanning over Daniel's neck as he moved closer.

Lost in the moment, Daniel was too high on pheromones to notice the power suddenly shut off. Terry pulled his hands off of his skin, making him shiver at the loss.

Daniel's eyes fluttered open, his breath heavy and his mind disoriented. He looked up at Terry, his voice trembling as he asked, "W-what happened?" Terry's eyebrows furrowed, and he tilted his head towards the window. "Power's out. Must be one hell of a storm," he muttered, frustration evident as he futilely flicked a switch on the wall. Daniel's heart raced, his skin still tingling from the sudden loss of sensation. He swallowed hard, trying to regain his composure as he watched as Terry dealt with the situation at hand. "Oh," was all he could manage to say as he looked around the dark room.

“Nothing we can do, at least not until the storm clears.” Terry peers out the dark window towards the generator out back, a thick layer of snow blocking his view. “We might as well go to bed. It’s already getting late as it is.” Daniel suggests. Clearing his throat as he gets up from his chair.

"I suppose you're right." Terry agreed, Disappointment evident in his tone. Terry watched intently as Daniel walked towards the bed, his body looking even more enticing in the candlelight.

A low groan escaped Terry’s throat as he watched the boy climb under the covers, his little shorts riding up to where his ass met his thigh. With a deep sigh, Daniel crawled under the covers, the cool air of the room making his skin crawl. He pulled the covers over his chest, his body trembling slightly as he tried to get comfortable, his mind still reeling from earlier. He yearned for the alphas touch, his scent… his knot. ‘No, snap out of it.’ Daniel scolded himself for thinking such things. He hadn’t allowed himself a heat after his last relationship. convincing himself that all alphas were the same and that it was better to be alone. Yet, he couldn't deny how good it felt to be taken care of again, to just let go of everything and have someone else take charge for a change.

Pushing those thoughts aside, he desperately tried to quiet his mind and fall asleep.

❆ ❆ ❆

Terry, unable to sleep despite his exhaustion, turned to face the bed where the sweet omega slept. His heart raced as he watched Daniel's chest rise and fall rhythmically under the thin layer of blanket as he slept soundly. God, he smelled heavenly. Now that his suppresents started to wear off, his scent configured into a sweet, fresh scent, unlike anything he’s smelled before. He imagined biting into his scent gland would be like biting into a ripe peach on a hot summer day.

It was easy enough hiding the boy’s suppresents In the cupboards when he was in the shower. He figured he would just slide them into Daniel’s car the next morning when he would help the omega look for the very thing he stole. Though, he seriously doubts they’ll be doing anything but making sweet love to eachother all day.

He could smell the Omega coming from a mile away, rubbing one out before Daniel even arrived. Anyone else, he would have sent them on their way, but not Daniel, He was even more gorgeous than he ever could have imagined - judging from scent alone.

His small stature and silky brown hair that just barely covered his wide, innocent brown eyes, had the Alpha weak in the knees. The second he stepped through the door, Terry knew he needed to have him, to claim him, consume his very being. There was no way in hell Terry would be going back home without the little Omega right next to him in his passenger seat.

That night Terry lay awake, listening to the sweet breathing and occasional sleepy moans of the unconscious omega, as he waited for his time to strike.

That’s when he smelled it: the undeniable scent of slick coating the bedsheets. His heat. The boy was still sound asleep when Terry sauntered over to the king sized bed. He tossed the blankets off of the writhing Omega, his body sticky with perspiration and cock straining in his little shorts as he weakly humped the pillow between his legs. His scent was intoxicating. Terry could feel himself grow hard in his pants at the sight. Still, he held himself back from devouring the boy right then and there, in fear of scaring the poor thing off.

Instead, he gently pushed a loose strand of sweaty bangs behind his ear. The Omega’s eyes shooting open at the slightest touch, whimpering at the realization of the situation. “T…Terry.” He weakly moaned. “I need…” He bent over the boy, “I know. I know exactly what you need, baby.” The sight of the omega was driving him wild, wanting nothing more than to make him his, to breed him and make sure everyone knows who he belongs to.

Terry's heart pounded in his chest, his desire for the boy, overwhelming. "You need it bad, don't you?” Daniel looked up at him with wide, pleading eyes as he nodded eagerly, bucking his hips up to try to gain friction.

Terry crawled into the bed in front of him, his impressive hard on poking out through his pants. Daniel’s breath coming in short gasps as he looked up into Terry’s eyes, silently pleading.

He couldn’t hold back any longer and forcefully pulled down the boys slick drenched shorts along with his shirt, bringing the articles of clothing to his nose and groaning at the smell. “open your legs for me." His voice was commanding yet gentle, and Daniel found himself obeying without hesitation.

As soon as Daniel opened his legs, Terry moved his head between them, Daniel’s slender thighs wrapped around his head. “Fuck." Terry hissed as he licked up the long line of slick leading to Daniel's entrance, his tongue darting out to taste him. He lapped at the slick fluid coating the boy’s entrance, groaning softly at the sweet taste. Daniel tries to hold himself up on his elbows in a desperate attempt to look at the man between his legs, but he's too far gone to move even an inch.

“You are so fucking sexy," Terry whispered as he pressed his lips to Daniel's inner thigh. He kissed a trail up towards his tight hole, breathing in the sweet scent of his arousal.

Daniel wailed, his fingers digging into the sheets as he felt Terry's hot breath against his sensitive flesh. Terry smirked against his sweat soaked skin, knowing he had the boy right where he wanted him. He teased Daniel's entrance with the tip of his tongue, his eyes closed in pleasure as he tasted Daniel's sweet nectar., eliciting a gasp from the younger boy. "Please, I need…” he gasped, interrupting himself as Terry’s tongue prodded even deeper.

Terry stopped his sweet torment, making Daniel cry out in defeat. His face glistening with slick, from his lips to his chin and dribbling down his neck. “Need what, sweetheart? Tell me what you need.” He caressed his trembling tummy, The noticeable difference between his fair complexion and Daniel's radiant, sun-kissed skin, which looked as if he had been baking in the sun for hours.

Daniel was too high on his heat to form words. “You need to feel me inside you, don't you? You wanna take my knot and let me breed you?" Terry growled, slipping a slick finger into Daniel's tight heat. He let out a strangled cry, arching off the bed. "Answer me, Danny.” Terry entire body is yearning and urging him to enter the awaiting omega already but a part of his brain is determined to make Daniel ask for it.

"Yes," he managed to whine, "I need your knot… oh god please. I need my Alpha!” He shamelessly yells.

“Then present for me.” Terry demands. Daniel flips onto his belly and pulls himself apart with both hands, slick gushing out of him with every ragged breath. Terry can’t help but groan at the sight,

“So beautiful." Terry praises as he steps off the bed momentarily to remove his clothes, fisting his throbbing member in preparation, a small knot starting to form at the base.

lining himself up behind Daniel, his large, throbbing cock pressed against the tight, slick entrance. He reached around to grasp Daniel's hips, pushing slowly but firmly inside. The heat and tightness enveloping him felt like nothing he had ever experienced, the boy beneath him whining helplessly as tears stained his rosy cheeks. “So perfect, just where an omega belongs.”

Daniel hid his face in the pillows - something Terry just couldn’t have. He pulled out just to flip the boy over onto his back forcefully. “Look at me." Terry ordered, his hand squeezing gently on the boy's hip. "I want to see that pretty face.”

He pushed himself to the hilt, becoming one sweet panting thing with the boy, leaning down to capture his lips in a messy, yet controlled kiss, His tongue slipping into Daniel's mouth, groaning into the kiss as he explored. His cock hitting that sensitive bundle of nerves that had Daniel gasping and writhing around his cock.

He felt the boy's mating gland pulse against his own skin. He pulled back from the kiss, only to connect his lips to the delicate line of his throat, making his way down to the very place he’d been fantasizing about sinking his teeth into. “N-not there.” Small hands push weakly at his chest, to no avail. His hands tightened on the boy's waist, holding him still.

In one swift movement, he bit down on his mating gland, feeling the sweet rush of pheromones into his system as Daniel cried out, arching into the bite. It was everything Terry imagined it to be: like biting into a ripe fruit, the juices blessing his pallet. It was like every drug he’s ever taken combined.

His teeth sank deeper into the flesh, feeling the blood pool into his mouth, lapping at the wound as an apology.

His hips stilled when he finally pushed his knot into the sweet thing. “You're mine now." He groaned, letting the boy get used to the stretch. A choked out sob pulled him out of his rut for a split second. “Shh… it’s ok baby. I got you.” He cradled his head in his hands, leaving peppered kisses all over his tear stained face.

his hips starting to move of their own accord now, pounding into the crying boy beneath him. Daniel hiccuped weakly as Terry pulled him into his own embrace.

He thrusted his hips one more time before burying himself in the Omega, his knot locking into place, pushing his seed deep into the boy beneath him and shooting deep into his womb, leaving him panting and sticky with sweat and love.

"You're so beautiful," he murmured, his lips brushing against Daniel's forehead as he pulled him close and turned them both over so he was laying on his back with Daniel on his chest, their flesh melding together as one. “Your mine. All mine.” They fell asleep like that: skin to skin, heart to heart.

[lovedrunkheadcanons]

Chapter Contents

(Arranged Marriage Fic) Read on AO3

Rated M

It was late May when Hannah received a letter inviting her for tea at Lady Inumaki’s home.

Like the Gojo estate, The Inumaki residence was built in the samurai style with shoji panels and tiered roofing, but more modern than its neighbors, and much smaller. While the house was within walking distance, Hannah was accompanied by Mr. Ijichi, who left her waiting outside the entrance at 3 o’clock. She used the brass ring to knock on the door.

Anxious, she smoothed the front of her blush pink kimono, hand painted with spring blooms and blades of silver mountain grass. A metallic obi with pastel pink, green, and blue flowers held the silk together. Makoto pinned two silver combs into her braided updo. The combination of pink and silver made her feel less intimidating. A safe choice. This visit was important.

After being received by a servant who guided her through the house, Hannah was led inside an ochre walled tearoom. Lady Tomoe Inumaki and her sister, Ms. Takara Shimoda, rose from the floor and bowed. They were both clad in elegant kimonos, hued blue and yellow, and their matching platinum blonde hair was styled in sleek, clean knots. A meal had been prepared on a table. The servant from earlier brought out a fresh pot of tea, but they could all relax. This was not a ceremony.

They kneeled down. Hannah read the calligraphy on a hanging scroll inside the tokonoma; “Five Friends Beneath The Setting Sun” it read. A tortoise and a crane, the symbols of longevity and power, were surrounded by groves of bamboo, yellow narcissus, and plum trees (the three friends of spring) beside a gentle flowing stream. Hovering in the sky above was a bright round sun the color of a grapefruit, all auspicious omens.

“Your husband has been good to my family, Gojo-san,” Tomoe began, bowing her head a second time. “For that you are always welcome in my house.”

“Thank you, I’ll be sure to tell him you said that,” Hannah said. “And please, there’s no need to be so formal. Hannah-san is fine.”

Takara seemed rather taken by this. “So, how are you liking our little country, Hannah?” she asked, forgoing honorifics. “It must be quite different from what you’re accustomed to.”

Hannah gave a timid laugh. “True, it is different, but in a good way. Satoru’s taking me to visit the Tama Botanical Park this weekend. I’m excited to see it.”

“Ah, the Asakawa Experiment Forest, yes, yes, how lovely.” Lady Tomoe lifted a beautiful Noritake teapot, filigreed in gold leaf and magnolias. There was a certain gleam in her maple brown eyes as she poured her guest’s cup. “Speaking of which, are the two of you, you know…getting along?”

Hannah’s smile waned as she brought the steaming cup on her lap. They were now talking about her relationship with her husband. She peered down. Her reflection blended with the freshly poured tea.

They were comfortable with each other, sure. Satoru made his usual rounds; asking her how she was; whether she slept well; what’s her favorite color? (golden poppy) This quickly morphed into a game, one which Hannah thoroughly enjoyed, parroting her own inquiries straight back; when was his next mission; did he have enough Bufferin tablets; what flavor licorice did he like best? (watermelon)

They ate their meals together. They went for morning jogs up the mountains till only the crowns of the pines could be seen and their lungs short of breath. Hannah noticed her biceps bore definition after completing push-ups and she could run for longer distances without getting tired. Satoru had begun instructing her how to kickbox; how to bend her knees and square her shoulders and punch a cushion on his right hand. In the afternoon, they watched movies together and sometimes Satoru would teach her how to play Go, moving black and white stones atop a grid board to try and capture the other’s pawn. But when Tomoe was asking whether she and Satoru were “getting along,” Hannah felt she was really implying something else and chose the less complicated reply.

“I’d say we’re in a better place than where we started.”

Tomoe exhaled at this with mixed relief. “I really worry for these newer couples,” she opined, taking a sip of her tea. “My husband and I grew up together. In the olden days that’s how it used to be. Now when there’s a marriage, the bride and groom are lucky if they get to meet an hour before the wedding.”

“Have any of the other families invited you for a visit, Hannah?” Takara asked, slightly veering off topic. “It’s traditional for the women of each house to welcome new wives into their homes as a sign of respect.”

Hannah’s expression dimmed. She set her teacup on the table. “No, Takara-san,” she said. “You two are the first.”

This came more of a shock to Tomoe than it should have, causing her to miss her mouth and spill tea over her front. She let out a tiny yelp as the hot liquid seeped through her kimono and burned her skin.

“But that can’t be,” she said, frantically dabbing her front with a cloth. “You’re Gojo Satoru’s wife, the lady of a great house. You must’ve received gobs of congratulatory letters following the wedding.”

Hannah bowed her head. “I received many such letters, Inumaki-san, but no invites.”

“Please, are you really that surprised, Tomoe?” Takara huffed, rolling her eyes at her sister.  “After what they did to Kumari last year?”

Hannah tilted her head. “Kumari?”

The younger sister handed Tomoe another napkin and refilled her tea cup. “Chauhan Kumari was one of the first international students ever admitted to Jujutsu High, and the first from India,” she explained. “The prodigy was sought after for her rare ability, a special sealing technique not seen in ages. She studies cursed objects for that very reason.”

Hannah nodded, but was still perplexed. “Then what was the problem, if her technique was so rare?”

“Well, as it so happens, she fell in love with her former classmate,” Tomoe added, no longer fussing with her kimono. “Tensions arose when they married last year.”

Ah, now Hannah better understood the issue and winced. “I'm guessing neither family took it well.”

“No, not quite.” Tomoe shook her head. “Kumari-san’s family welcomed Ichiro with open arms. It was his family, the Kamo’s, who weren’t keen on the idea and stripped him of everything he set to inherit. It didn’t matter that the Chuahan’s had money either. His parents couldn’t stomach the fact their son had married a …” she stopped herself short, appearing guilt stricken.

They waited.

“A foreigner?” Hannah finished for her.

Gaijin.

An outsider.

Both Tomoe and Takara averted their eyes. She had spoken the unvarnished truth so plainly.

“Yes,” Tomoe said, disheartened. “A foreigner.”

For most Japanese, the word “gaijin” was met with indifference. A foreigner was simply that; someone not from Japan. No big deal. But to the jujutsu aristocracy, where bloodlines and ancestral pedigree ruled the roost, it was almost always meant as a form of insult; something less than; a lower being.

It was the worst kept secret. Interview them off the record and you’d find roughly eighty percent of sorcerer families condemned bigotry towards foreigners. “Many of my best friends are foreigners,” they would tout, “I’m offended you’d have me think that.” Cram those same individuals in a room, however, and you’d garner a very different response. Satoru despised this two-facedness more than anything. “Cowards, all of them,” he would seethe, along with some other choice words. Him marrying a girl from England had probably unleashed a silent outcry not felt since his family gained the upper hand after he mastered Hollow Purple. They were outwardly showing their displeasure by pretending to be happy for them; attending the wedding; offering their congratulations with beaming fake smiles, then leaving Hannah out in the cold as they did Kumari the previous year.

For Hannah, this was nothing new. The West had their own biases against outsiders, ones she once believed to be fact; Jujutsu sorcerers were a barbaric lot, drunk on power, and not to be trusted. They were dangerous as they were backwards. Their esoteric religion spat in the face of God and infighting culminated between the families like wildfire. Whether the Western world saw the dueled irony in these accusations, Hannah wasn’t sure. Prejudice was bred from ignorance, not knowledge. When you point a finger, you point three fingers back at yourself. Her time with the Sisters of St. Horatia mellowed her viewpoint some.

“Ichiro took his wife’s last name after the fall out,” Takara spoke, trying not to sound so glum. “They recently moved to Minato City not long ago with their son.”

“I’ll be sure to invite them over for tea next time you visit,” Tomoe chimed. “Tell your husband he’s welcome too.”

Hannah's face brightened at the mention. “Thank you, Tomoe-san. You’re too kind.”

The three women were then interrupted by a short sneeze.

“Ah-cho.”

They twisted their heads to see.

Through a narrow slit in the door, Hannah saw a pair of curious brown eyes flickering back at her. She caught a swoosh of platinum blond, along with oddly painted lips and a small nose, before the door slid shut.

“Ah, that would be my son,” Tomoe chuckled, knowing exactly who it was. “Toge, quit snooping and come introduce yourself to our guest.”

But the door failed to open. A ha-chikui could be heard singing “pir-r-r-r” from a neighboring tree like a taunt. Toge did not make an appearance.

Tomoe and Takara shared dispirited looks. Bowing to Hannah would have been easy enough, but with his vocabulary diminishing more and more, Toge’s confidence was then at an all time low. Forcing him to talk was like pulling teeth. There were only a number of words he could say without setting off an explosion, though his mother feared that if he stopped talking, he would never speak again and so it was better to keep trying. “Hello” and “My. Name. Is. Toge” were still safe to use, if he said them carefully.

“Oh well,” Tomoe sighed, masking her worry with a well rehearsed smile. “Perhaps another day then.”

She took a sip of tea.

Hannah kept staring at the door, but said nothing. Tomoe’s clipped tone hinted the conversation was over. Yes, perhaps another day.

The ladies soon finished their meal and Hannah was taken for a stroll in the garden.

Pic by Damien Douxchamps

Like ducklings, Takara and Hannah followed Tomoe outside. They took turns leaning over the washbasin by the door, dipping the wooden ladle into the water and bringing it to their mouths, swishing it back and forth, then spitting it on the ground before washing their hands. This was a cleansing ritual, akin to visiting a Shinto shrine, or crossing oneself with holy water when entering a church. Gardens were sacred spaces.

The rules were easy: Stay on the path and don’t wander off. Focus your mind. Breathe. Reflect. You are a tiny speck floating aimlessly in this ever expanding universe. You are finite.

Hannah wiped her hands and took in the lush greenery.

Japan had over 200 registered public gardens, with three revered above all others: Kenroku-en (Garden of the Six Sublimities), Kairaku-en (Garden to be Enjoyed Together), and Kōraku-en (Garden for Taking Pleasure Later). Closed from the public, the Inumaki’s backyard was an intimate pond garden, inspired by the Buddhist temple, Renge-ji, dating back to the early Edo Period. A dirt path coiled its way around a modest pond, planted with fork moss, crepe myrtles, and azalea islands. Along this path were sweeping shrouds of black pines, their trunks hunched over as though blown by the wind. A thick fortress of bamboo kept intruders out. 

It had rained heavily that morning, growing hot and humid before the clock struck noon. Walking underneath the shady pines brought reprieve from the midday heat. Taking deliberate steps, the three women walked the route in silence. Breathing. Focusing. Reflecting. Hannah delighted in seeing a tree frog poke its head out of the pond, blink, then dive back down to escape potential danger. Birds chirped and warbled high in the trees: A nuthatch, a bamboo patridge, a brown-eared bulbul. The thick pine needles prevented her from viewing them, but she didn’t mind. She could hear every single one, the mountain wind whistling softly in her ears.

Mr. Ijichi was waiting outside the Inumaki house at 5 pm, as scheduled. Rejuvenated from the walk, Hannah bowed to her two hostesses, thanking them for their generous hospitality and made to leave, but Tomoe held her back.

“Hannah, before you go, there’s something I need to tell you.” She looked apprehensive as she said this. “It’s important.”

“Of course,” Hannah answered and turned to face the lady of the house.

Tomoe gestured for her sister to reconvene inside, which she did without argument, and once the two sorcerer wives were alone, Tomoe motherly clasped Hannah’s hand and said,

“I know it’s not my business to pry, so I won’t say much more, but if there’s one piece of advice I wish somebody had given me when I married Suga, it’s this,” she paused as looked at their clasped hands, “Whatever you and Satoru do, however your feelings are towards each other…don’t wait for children,” she squeezed a little tighter, “The sooner you have children, the less the wolves will have to sink their teeth into.

Hannah looked confused. “The wolves?”

Tomoe’s smile was contrite as it was foreboding.

“Please take what I’ve said to heart.”

Hannah was haunted by Tomoe’s words the rest of the way home, the implications hounding her like a starved predator. It was all she could think about. The wolves? Japan didn’t have wolves. Magical, maybe, but not real ones. They were hunted to extinction during the Meiji Restoration to protect against rabies and canine distemper; one of the many obscure facts she learned in the convents. Tomoe meant it as a metaphor.

“Did you have a nice visit, Hannah-chan?” Mr. Ijichi politely asked as they walked.

“Huh?” Hannah looked up, blinking. “Oh, yes, Ijichi-san, very nice.”

“Good. Lady Inumaki is known for her kindness.” He shows her a white paper bag. “Look, she even gave me anpan buns to take home. They’re still warm. Would you like one?”

Hannah shook her head. She wasn’t hungry.

The deputy director opened the bag and took out a sweet roll, steam fogging up his glasses. “You know, I was watching this documentary the other night,” he said, taking a bite. “About albatrosses.”

“Albatrosses?” Hannah said, feigning interest.

“Yeah, did you know they have the longest wingspan of any bird and can go whole years without landing?”

“No,” she replied. “I had no idea.”

“And also that some species can live past the age of fifty?”

“Fifty? My, that’s a long time.”

In one bite, Mr. Ijichi finished his pastry. “They mate for life too.” he added, licking his fingers. “Fifty years. Guess that makes albatross divorce rates pretty low.”

He laughed lightly at this joke, but Hannah didn't find it funny.

Wolves also mate for life, she thought. She had read so in a book. On average, a wolf’s brain is larger than a domesticated dog. They can perceive sounds up to 40 kilohertz away, twice the distance of a human. Their jaws are powerful enough to saw through bone. They take down bigger prey by hunting in packs and will kill intruders they see as a threat. When hunting, they begin by stalking the prey, separating it from the herd until it’s confused and disoriented, then unleash the finishing blow, carving a hole inside the vulnerable underbelly to devour the prey’s internal organs. Once disemboweled, the carcass is left for scavengers to peck and nibble at till nothing remains. And unlike most social hierarchies within the animal kingdom, it’s the alpha female who makes the decisions; where to go, what to hunt, when to mate.

Is that the threat Tomoe warned her against? The women? Were they the wolves?

“Think of all the chicks they hatch. That’s practically one chick every year.”

Ah, yes, that was the more pressing issue; Children. 

Two months in and Hannah was not pregnant. She and Satoru had not consummated their marriage. She was still a virgin, unsure how to proceed.

At the age when most kids were learning how to ride a bicycle, Hannah was learning how to replace the hydraulic filter on a tractor. When students were simulating volcano eruptions with paper mâché and vinegar, Hannah was studying the chemical processes used for brewing beer. Nuns and religious sisters tended to be tradesmiths and licensed professionals. They were farmers, ranch handlers, and brewmasters. Physicists, engineers, doctors, and social workers, each using their combined talents to help serve the local community.

So contrary to popular belief - Galileo notwithstanding - Hannah was well versed in the sciences. She knew how sex worked, what body part went in which orifice, how sperm met egg, etc. In fact, she knew that if you plopped a male and a female alone together on a deserted island, both with no sexual education whatsoever, they would eventually, given time, figure out how to reproduce. What Hannah did not know, however, were the social cues leading up to the act itself. How could you tell whether a man was interested? What were you supposed to say? What did you do? Hannah was still learning how to search the internet on her mobile phone. The novels she swiped off library shelves in the convents were of no help either, granting little more than a chase kiss on the cheek, or a soft caress. And the book's perspective was almost always taken from the woman, not the man.

“…and that’s when I said, ‘Masamichi-sama, you should try snail oil. It’ll clear those up in a jiffy...”

Mr. Ijichi ceased talking about albatrosses and was now divulging his opinions on skincare. Hannah wasn’t listening.

The real question was, did Satoru want to have sex with her? They were two months into their marriage, around the same time it took for a dating couple to decide whether they wanted to continue pursuing each other, and he had not offered to share his bed once. Neither had she, of course. Did that make it her fault somehow? Was she lacking in some area for him? Too foreign? Too short? Too boring?

No, you’re doing it again, Hannah, she mentally chastised. You’re overthinking things. Marriage isn’t based on attraction, it’s based on consent, yes, consent. He doesn’t have to find you attractive. You just have to do the deed and move on.

And while she thought this, her mind reeled back to the man she’d come to know the last two months; The way his tongue stuck out when he was strategizing how to beat her at Go, or laugh at a corny joke he thought was funny. How he would saunter back behind the kitchen and help Makoto clean the dishes after dinner. How every fleeting glance from his turquoise blue eyes; in the hallway; at the table; up in the mountains where only the tops of the pines could be seen, made her beating heart skip and her stomach do summersaults.

The band of gold on her finger tightened as did the ache in her chest, jealous and longing.

I want it to be me.

Hannah and Mr. Ijichi didn’t have much farther to walk. They reached the limestone gates in fifteen minutes. Hannah waved goodbye to the deputy director and scissored up the path towards the house alone, but rather than taking the shorter route, she made a left for the strolling gardens. More fresh air was what she needed.

Hannah looked out at the lake and watched a lone dragonfly land atop the water and kiss the surface for a quick drink, sunlight hitting its lustrous wings to generate the spectrum of a rainbow. It hummed as it flew off. Willow trees swayed in the eastern wind, their long, slender branches dipping into the waterfront like paper streamers. A bed of blue irises were budding close to the shore. She already missed the sakura blossoms. Cherries would replace them come summer.

Sister Edith often said that to walk in nature was to witness a thousand miracles. “We pass by them everyday, mon chérie,” she would sigh, shaking her head. “But we have grown blind. What will it take for the scales to fall from our eyes?” Hannah didn’t have an answer. She was feeling blind as of late. Blind to her husband’s intentions, blind from doubt. Where were they headed in this marriage?

She had just made it over the second bridge next to the teahouse, past a two-hundred year old maple tree, when suddenly she caught the sound of an animal in distress.

“Mmrooww,” it yowled, followed by the rattling of leaves and an angry hiss. “Mrrooow-row.”

Hannah knew what made that noise. Blimey, that was one unhappy cat.

But where was it?

“Meow.”

Hannah spun herself around, looking east to west, and quickly eyed a fluffy white tail poking out the side of a mulberry bush, making the plant look like a handle-less teapot. She soon discovered what had the kitty so upset.

Looking to rub its whiskers along something rough, the cat got its collar snagged on a prickly branch. It tried pulling away, but the branch wouldn’t relent, as though punishing the kitty for trespassing. Now the poor thing was stuck.

It yowled again.

“Hold on, I’ve got you.” Hannah began sifting through the branches to reach the feline. He was wedged fairly deep. She risked ruining the shrub.

Spooked by the stranger, the cat began thrashing and biting wildly, clawing Hannah’s arm by accident. “Ow — No, if you keep tugging on it like that, you’ll choke.” She managed to hook her finger underneath the collar and slide it off the branch. There.

Realizing he was free, the feline popped out the mulberry bush and shook the dirt and leaves from his long white fur, bell collar jingling. Though unlike normal felines, this kitty didn’t run away and hide, twisting his head around to lick the plant residue off his shoulder.

Hannah got on her knees and held out her hand, making “kissy” noises. The cat stopped licking, raised his bushy tail, and sauntered right up, rubbing his teeth and whiskers along her fingers and purring appreciatively. She laughed.

“You’re welcome.” Hannah began scratching him behind the ears. He had the darlingest blue eyes she’d ever seen on a cat. “Don’t worry about the knick you gave me. I know you didn’t mean it.”

The cat kept on purring, closing his eyes so it appeared he was grinning. Adorable.

As she continued scratching, Hannah gently pulled the inscribed tag on his collar, keeping it still for her to read:

幽霊

She smiled.

“Ghost, is it?” she said. “Well, your owner has a sense of humor, I’ll give them that.”

Ghost’s whiskers twitched at the sound of his given name and yawned.

There was no phone or vaccination number on the collar from what Hannah could tell, though obviously the cat belonged to someone. It’s possible he had a microchip. Only one way to find out.

“You’re coming with me.”

Ghost gave no objection to being held by his rescuer and tucked his paws inwards so he could curl into a ball, purring, trilling, tail swishing. This human was nice and warm and gave good pets. He was scared, but not anymore. Time to take a nap.

The cat dozed contentedly in Hannah’s kimono wrapped arms the rest of the walk home, his fur so flocculent it looked as though she were cradling a big wad of cotton. Whoever owned the fella groomed him well. He was clearly loved. Hopefully, Makoto wouldn’t be mad at the pet dander accumulating on her kimono.

It wasn’t until Hannah slipped off her sandals and entered the main hallway when she heard they had visitors. Loud visitors.

“Idiot, how many times do I have to say it? It’s senpai. Utahime-senpai. Show your seniors some respect and say it properly.”

Satoru chuckled.

“Sorry. No can do, U-tah-i-me,” he said, articulating each syllable in her name. “My house, my rules.”

Utahime wasn’t taking it.

“My god, you’re such a piece of shit, Satoru. That innocent act isn’t fooling anyone. We know he’s here already, so hand him over and we’ll be on our way.”

Satoru was so confused by this, he broke into actual laughter. “First off, your interrogation skills need work. Second, why the hell would I steal a cat? I don’t even like cats.”

A third voice disrupted their arguing.

“Joking aside, we could really use your help, Satoru,” said the third. “Normally I wouldn’t bring him to the lab, but I hate leaving him alone in the apartment while I‘m gone,” a winded sigh, “Guess it’s my fault he escaped.”

Utahime offered her friend support. “No, it’s not your fault, Shoko. I’m sure he’ll turn up eventually. We just have to keep looking.”

Now awake from his nap, Ghost’s ears twitched upon hearing the third person, Shoko, speak and sniffed the air. Uh oh. A sick empty feeling brewed in the pit of Hannah’s stomach. If indeed Ghost was their missing feline, which it’d be safe to assume he was by that point, then wouldn’t they insinuate her as the thief? She had the kitty in her hands for Pete’s sake.

Her budding nerves threatened to capsize her.

The wall partition separating the reception room from the main hallway was latticed entirely in washi paper. Had it not been for the colorful folded screens, painted in gold and dazzling peacocks, her silhouette would’ve been visible from the other side, but that wasn't the problem. Designed to only go one way, the hall had no means of escape. Should she walk back, the bamboo matting would alert the others of her presence and she’d be ousted. It was thanks to Utahime’s shouting that Hannah managed to make it this far.

“Well, if you see him roaming around, give me a call, alright?”

Foot-falls shuffled in Hannah’s direction.

Wait, no, no, no, no, no, no.

However, Ghost was done messing around. These humans were noisy, and his rescuer was squeezing him too tight. He started to fidget, growing restless and more agitated the tighter she squeezed. “Mrroow,” he growled. Hannah held onto him as best she could, but when his hind claws began digging underneath the kimono silk and pulling on her obi cord, she knew she’d lost. Like a wet bar of soap, the cat slipped out of her hands and dashed for his owner.  

Her cover was blown.

“I KNEW IT!!!” shouted Utahime, watching the cat appear out of the corner and rub against Shoko’s legs. She turned sharply around to jeer at her prime suspect. “I knew you were lying, you slimy haired weasel. Thought you could pull a fast one on us, did ya? Did ya?”

Satoru rolled his eyes. “I’m telling you, it wasn’t me.”

Happy to be reunited, Shoko picked her cat off the floor and stroked his fur. “Well, if it wasn’t you, how did he get in here?”

“It was me.”

All three sorcerers affixed their eyes upon the hallway, where a flustered Gojo Hannah emerged out the corner, hair and kimono disheveled. “I found him while in the garden.”

“Hehe, see, told you,” Satoru snickered. He knew his wife was standing there the whole time, trying to wrangle the pesky feline. He’d been tempted to alert the others, but thought it better to let the chips fall where they may. What were the odds she’d actually find Shoko’s missing cat and bring the fleabag home? She was always full of surprises. It left him wondering when they would begin discussing the visions.

In the meantime, Hannah was fiddling with the decorative knot on her obijime, which was close to coming undone.

“Here, let me help with that.”

Now able to match a face to the voice, the third person, Shoko, plopped Ghost back on the floor and walked behind Hannah to fix the knot. While not attired in her usual lab coat and heels, she still looked professional in a turtleneck and jeans. Her long chocolate brown hair was swooped in a lazy twist, showing the beauty mark under her eye. Hannah recognized the woman immediately.

“I know you,” she gaped. “You’re the one who handed me the water bottle.”

“Ah, so you remember,” cheered Shoko. “Good to know I can leave a lasting impression.”

“Hold it, you two met already?” both Satoru and Utahime asked in unison. “Since when?”

“I wouldn’t say we met,” answered Shoko, giving Hannah a wink. “More like crossed paths.”

“Uh, yeah. Crossed paths. Sure.” Hannah wanted to hide herself. A lot more happened between them than “crossing paths.” She had almost been caught hurrying the growth of a rose shrub.

Shoko’s companion, Utahime, pivoted back to Satoru, dressed down in a pair of denim shorts and a graphic tee. Her violet hair stuck out at the end of her baseball cap in a high ponytail. She placed both hands on her hips expectantly.

“Well?”

Six Eyes narrowed. “Well, what?”

“Aren't you going to introduce us?”

“Why do I have to introduce you?” He pointed his thumb. “She’s standing right there.”

Utahime pinched the bridge of her nose and drew in a sharp breath. “Because, doofus, it’s the polite thing to do, and you’re her husband. Why do men lack common sense when it comes to this stuff?”

“Fine.” Satoru walked behind his two comrades. “Shoko, Utahime,” he said, presenting with both hands, “This is Hannah.”

Hannah bowed. “Hello,” she said shyly, flattening her hair. “Please to meet you.”

In three long steps, Satoru backpedaled behind his wife.

He rested both hands on her shoulders.

Hannah couldn’t think of anything. Half the oxygen instantly vanished from the room as her heart did a double take. She smelled coffee and incense. His sweet breath tickled her ears, mouth hovering just inches above her nape. If she turned her head, their lips would surely touch. She shuddered.

“Hannah, these two are my colleagues,” he said, voice so smooth it made her want to melt. “Shoko is the doctor and top researcher on campus. And Utahime is — ”

Utahime seized Hannah by the wrist and dragged her from her husband’s arms, seeking refuge in the corner.

“Hi,mynameisUtahime.IteachattheKyotoschool. Okay, so I have to know,” she whispered.

Lost in a daze, Hannah couldn’t tell whether this person had spoken in tongues or crafted her own language. Speed talkers were difficult to translate.

Um…about what?” she asked, unsure why they were whispering. Now that they were close, the young wife could see the prominent scar slashed across the woman’s cheek and nose.

“Who else?” Utahime said. “That mop-headed manchild you married. Now tell me, does he leave his dirty laundry piled everywhere? Eat like a slob? Talk you half to death? I bet he’s unbearable to live with. He never shuts up.”

“I can still hear, you know,” Satoru commented from the sidelines.  

“So, is he?” Utahime persisted, ignoring him. “I understand if you don’t wanna say it out loud. I can’t stand him either.”

“Actually,” Hannah parted from Utahime and turned around to face her spouse, “Satoru has made life relatively easy for me. He’s been very generous,” she showed him a gentle smile. “More than I deserve, really.”

The pause was deafening.

Nobody spoke.

Nobody moved.

Unprepared for having received such a glowing compliment, Satoru felt the tips of his ears burning. He looked to the floor. That smile wasn’t fake. She meant every word. It made him wish they were true. Hannah deserved a lot more than he could give. She deserved the world, no, the universe.

He just recently learned about her love for gardening, both from the memories and the morning jogs they embarked together. Practically every tree, wild-flower, weed, and leaf they ran past, she could name without fail, teaching him the binomial nomenclature of each while relaying their medicinal properties. He had comprised a mental list:

Isha-koroshi (Bugleweed) / Ajuga decumbens: Perennial herb. Grows close to the ground. Spatula shaped leaves with small dark purple flowers. Boiling leaves helps burns and cuts. Drinking  decoction of seeds relieves stomach aches and gastrointestinal issues. Sprouts April to June.

Momi (Fir Tree) / Abies firma: Coniferous family. Oil can be extracted by grinding needles, wood, and bark. Used to treat symptoms relating to the common cold. Anti-inflammatory. (Same for pine, juniper, yew, and cypress).

Maruba-Utsugi (Deutzia) / Deutzia scabra: Deciduous shrub. Related to hydrangea family. White starlike blossoms. Bloom in May. Round leaves are edible when young. Eat as last resort.

The list went on.

He wished he had taken a snapshot of her face yesterday when he revealed they were adding an English garden on the estate; Pure. Gold. He might as well have sprouted angel wings and a halo. “You mean it?” she said in faint disbelief. “You’re giving me my own…?”

He nodded his head yes.

She wept like a baby, thanking him profusely over and over again. Almost June, they were too far in the spring to grow anything, so they planned to visit some local nurseries and gather ideas for October (the optimal planting time). Makoto thought it would be a good bonding experience.

“Hmmm.” Utahime cynically leaned over Hannah and arched her brow. “You sure he hasn’t misbehaved?”  

Hannah innocently raised her hands. “No, honest. Satoru’s been wonderful.”

Utahime held her chin, ruminating this quandary. “Generous” and “wonderful” weren’t words she would use to describe Satoru, more like “self-centered” and “egotistical,” but realizing Hannah wasn’t going to correct this mistake, she leaned away and sighed. “Well, alright. But if he starts any crap, you let me know, okay?”

“Hey, I’m not a delinquent,” Satoru whined, tired of her trash talking.

“But you act like one, so zip it,” Utahime spat and tapped Hannah’s arm. “Anyway, I’m serious. Let. Me. Know,” she handed her a piece of paper. “Here’s my number.”

“Okay,” Hannah said, taking the paper. “Thanks.”

Shoko bent down to retrieve her cat.

“On that cheery note, I think we’ll make like a banana and split. You ready, Utahime?”

Utahime checked her phone. “Oh, shoot. I didn’t realize it’s been that long.”

“Yeah, I think you’ve outstayed your welcome,” Satoru deadpanned. “Get lost.”

Utahime stuck her tongue at the Six Eyes wielder, who wiggled his own tongue right back. She was about to say more, but Shoko interrupted.

“Come along, Utahime. Let’s give the couple back their privacy.” She tugged on her friend’s collar, carrying Ghost under her arm. “See you around, Satoru. And it was nice officially meeting you, Hannah. Thanks for finding my cat.”

“Yeah, bye, Hannah,” Utahime added, waving goodbye. “We’ll go out for drinks sometime.”

“Wait, no goodbye hug for me, Hime-chan?” Satoru pouted, pretending to shed a tear. “I’m hurt.”

“I’d rather swallow iodine, you freak,” the Kyoto teacher snapped. “Call me that again and see what hap — ”

“Bye, bye, everyone,” Shoko finished, shoving her friend towards the door.

“Bye.” Hannah returned a friendly wave. “Janae.”

The doctor and teacher made their quick getaway, missing kitty in toe.

Hannah turned to her husband.

“Well, they seemed…nice.”

Satoru dropped the facade. “Not how I would put it.” Glad they were gone, he tucked his hands in his pockets and headed for the living room. “I’m bored, let’s go watch a movie. Mission Impossible 2 is next, I think.”

Hannah trotted softly beside him.  

“No, we’re on the third installment now, remember? Ethan managed to dodge Ambrose’s bullet and throw Luther the cure just in time so he could jab it into Nyah and prevent an outbreak.”

“Ah, that’s right, that’s right,” he chuckled, pointing a finger. “Keeping me on my toes, I see.”

“Of course,” Hannah giggled. “If I don’t, who will?”

Satoru nudged his wife with his elbow and blew her a raspberry. “If I don’t, who will?” he mocked.“My name’s Hannah and I own the place, rah, rah, rah.”

She choked on a giggle and tried shooing him away, which only prompted more ribbing.

Don’t ask her about tomorrow, the uncertainties, the what-ifs. Those she could fret about some other day. Right then, walking down that corridor, the world’s strongest sorcerer smiling at her with twinkling blue eyes, Hannah knew everything would be alright. She didn’t know how she knew this, but she did. Whatever the danger, they would rise up to meet it. Together.

Let the wolves come.

Chapter Contents

[grayintogreen]

WIP WEDNESDAY

Every other Wednesday I'm still gonna be posting wip wednesday snippets since I'm still writing, but at a slower pace and working on the next three chapters simultaneously. I'm debating what to do for off weeks just to keep my excitement up. Maybe some meta or talking about fic notes about the different arcs and why things changed and what themes I hoped to explore by changing things. We'll see.

For today, here's an extra long scene of the Tombtakers bonding post-horrors!

-

For the first night after half a week of creeping misery and trials, there was genuine laughter in Widogast’s Nascent Nein-Sided Tower again. It bubbled up from the area that Caleb had cleared away for the hot tub, spilling through a crack in a half-opened door like a coy invitation, alongside a little bit of steam.

Inside, five figures sprawled languidly in the water, naked and exposed to the open air, their scars on full display, and there was a method to all of them. Cree’s mostly hidden by her fur save for the nine bald patches across her body and the white ring of fur and burned scar tissue from Vess DeRogna’s collar; Lucien with fresher, erratic scars, boasting his habit of never cutting in the same place twice, though most of his were inflicted by enemies currently, not himself- thank you; Otis, mostly scar-free because their vitality paid out in the soul more often than it did in the blood and they believed fully that if you can cut yourself in the same place, you should and wore their primary scars on a bruised and calloused thumb that was swollen larger than all of their other fingers; Zoran boasted a similar mindset, albeit one that Jurrell used to call strangely artsy- the scrapes from the grater-edge of his maul had mostly flayed the tattoos from his tribe across his chest and shoulders until they were unrecognizable and he never scraped anywhere else, leaving strange patterns that made sense only to him; Tyffial was the worst of the lot with a combination of acid burns, stretch marks, and regular scars leaving pale, ugly marks across her brown skin.

Three of them had dull red eyes scattered about that stared judgingly out at Cree and Lucien, but no one was in the mood to bring that up and so they sat ignored and inert, courtesy of the necklaces that Zoran, Otis, and Tyffial wore- the one sacrifice to full nudity because it was necessary.

One would believe that the Tombtakers rarely indulged in public baths and the respite of steam and wine and that would be true- it was too expensive for a frivolity. Lucien had made them shell out precious silvers for bathhouses numerous times during their travels to get everyone clean and scrubbed to make a decent showing for whatever client he had found for them, but it was as practical then as it was in the Blood Chantry where the hot springs were used solely to wash the blood away after a mission as part of some sacred rite.

So to have Lucien, wine bottles in hand, suddenly suggest the hot tub for neither practical reasons nor religious ones was shocking enough that Zoran, Otis, and Tyffial hadn’t questioned it. They had followed out of sheer curiosity and shed their clothes and filled their cups and now, thoroughly soused, the five of them were laughing like they hadn’t in years.

“I don’t get it,” Zoran frowned in confusion at the latest bit of conversation. “So Ivan got bit by a lycan and you took his body, so now even though you’ve made his body look like yours, you still got his wolf in your noggin?”

“Aye,” Lucien sipped his wine. There was a flush to his cheeks that turned them the interesting shade of a bruise.

“So how come it’s so fuckin’ big, then? It don’t look right.”

“Experiments, he said. Some fey scientist.”

“Fey do science?” Tyffial guffawed. “There’s a thought.”

“We met one once,” Cree spoke up. “He was Rinna’s patron. He helped create these horrible abominations of living and dead flesh.”

“You think it’s the same one?” Otis grinned, unnervingly. They were perched on Zoran’s knee, because he took up so much space even in the considerably-sized tub.

“Why would it be the same one? There has to be more than one fey scientist creating abominations.” Lucien looked to Cree who looked deeply perplexed by that.

“I… That is something we should look into later when things are not so dire. We have so many other things to worry about.”

“Aye, well, let’s worry about none of them, then.” Lucien drained the last of his wine glass and went to fill his cup again. Tyffial watched him with raised brows in a way that made him prickly. “See something you like, dear heart?”

“You’ve changed, Lucien. How can you be so you and so different at the same time?”

“Considerable talent. You can’t learn it either. You’ve got to be born with it.”

Tyffial gathered up her long, thick hair into a sopping wet bun at the top of her head- an idle gesture meant to make him feel like his explanation was boring her and if he was going to keep on being a bore, she was going to do her hair while she had time. He gave her a look.

“Speaking of hearts and minds changin’, why’d you come back, then? I thought you were done with this.”

“It seemed like such a waste of over a decade of friendship to not finish what we started, yes?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Otis nodded, baring their teeth. “We gotta finish it.”

“Lot of folk here we can knock heads with. I don’t mind bein’ around ‘em.” Zoran shrugged.

Tyffial mimicked him. ”I do mind, but I can tolerate the idiots for a little longer, I guess, if they make my oldest friends so very happy.”

“Don’t be unkind, Tyffial,” Cree mocked her.

“This is me at my kindest!” She retorted, scandalized.

“And what a sacrifice you’re making,” Lucien chortled. “If you’re nicer, maybe the wizard will offer to put your body back the way it was.”

Tyffial went still. “What.”

Lucien recognized the importance of what he said, but not the significance of Tyffial’s stillness and therefore went on, gesturing with his wine glass. “I mean, look at the work he did with Ivan. Not a trace of the bastard left but his lycan shadow and we have a bit of an arrangement, the pair of us. It’s just me. And, obviously, he turned Veth from goblin into halfling.”

“Ohhh that’s what happened to the goblin girl,” Otis said, snapping their fingers- or trying do, given how wet and wrinkly there from the water.

“Tyffial,” Cree said, handing her wine glass to Lucien and moving closer to her. The water stirred and made waves as she and Zoran shuffled a bit to make room. “Caleb could do that, if you wanted.”

“He could not take the blood from my veins and make it less cursed,” Tyffial sighed, sinking lower into the water. “I would be ruined again in a month.”

“But what a month it would be,” Cree said, reaching up to help her pin back her hair as it began to fall down across her shoulders again. Tyffial made a sound like a little sniff and Zoran, Otis, and Lucien shared a meaningful look between the three of them.

“I will thank about it. I do not want to go into the middle of Eiselcross with baby fresh skin anyway. It is the start of winter! Could you have timed this any better?”

Cree tutted as she twisted Tyffial’s hair so tightly it yanked her back up out of the water a bit. She bit off the urge to caterwaul at her roughness. “I am sorry we did not wait until spring to trip into the apocalypse.”

“Shame on you. You are becoming stupid hanging with this lot.”

Lucien sipped wine from both his and Cree’s wine glass. “You got fucked over by the same bastard we did, Tyffial. Don’t pretend you’re so much better than we are.”

“I am better than you,” she retorted. “I’m not sipping Cree’s wine to get an indirect kiss from her when she used to give them freely.” This time a caterwaul did escape from Tyffial as Cree twisted her hair. “Don’t pull, you beast!”

“You had a tangle,” Cree deadpanned. “And Lucien and I do not need to kiss directly or indirectly.”

“Aye, she has her bonny bard back in Nicodranas that composes ballads to her rare beauty,” Lucien smirked, still sipping her wine. “He just has to put up with me at her side.”

“You gonna fuck him too?” Otis trilled.

Lucien didn’t dignify that with a yes or no answer and kept drinking, alternating between his glass and Cree’s like he was trying to decide whose backwash added to the bouquet better. Despite all airs to the contrary, Lucien was Creek trash through and through and behaved accordingly in private.

Cree finished Tyffial’s hair and grabbed her glass, now half-polished off, and rolled her eyes. Lucien lifted a brow and refilled it for her.

“You two are still disgusting,” Zoran said, half-amused. “Worse, even.”

“Even ground has a tendency to bring out the best and worst in us,” Cree laughed, clinking her glass against Lucien’s. “It… took us awhile to relearn how to navigate. There are things about all of us together that may take a great deal to work through as we go forwards, but I am so glad to have you all back… and trying. I don’t deserve it.”

“Well, I did almost fry your brains with intuit charges,” Tyffial sighed, drearily, reaching up to press on her bun. It would not come out for love or money now- Cree was always brilliant with her hair. “I suppose we’re even now.”

A silence fell upon them- peaceful, and therefore just as likely to be shattered as an awkward one. Otis was just the person for the job. “So tell us again how you told the Somnovem to shove it, Lucien.”

Lucien cackled and launched into the story. The main difference most people noticed between him and Molly when it came to performances was that he didn’t embellish the way Molly did. The real difference was that Lucien told a relatively straightforward tale like it was being written by a poet for archival in the Knowing Mistress’s own domain, full of eloquent turns of phrase and descriptions. It didn’t take long before he was being splashed and told to get on with it, but for every stanza cut short to get to the good bit, there were some allowed to go on forever with an audience as captive and shaken as he believed the tale deserved. He’d done something great and terrible and risky and he would not apologize for it, and he absolutely would do it again, if he had the right opportunity. And he would, perhaps sooner than he and his currently unshakable confidence would like. Attitudes like his didn’t survive on contact with them every time and he’d learned that the hard way the first time he challenged them.

That was borrowing troubles from the future, however, and thinking about it too much soured his buzz. After so many years of being forced to play the villain because being the hero wasn’t allowed- not for someone like him, not for someone with his background and personality and baggage- he had finally found a way to win that worked for him and people at his side that he trusted, rather than simply expected to follow.

Winter might have just started, but Lucien was in the final stages of a slow thaw. He could barely wait to see what he could make of himself as soon as he could crush the Somnovem, once and for all, so that he could have moments like this where he decried them for their weaknesses and idiocy and no more moments where they terrified him.

He finished the story with a flourish and Cree changed the subject to something else and the five of them continued to talk and drink well into the night until the hot tub and drink started to make them nauseous and sleepy and they crawled from it drunkenly to find a place to bed down.

While everyone else pulled on dry nightclothes and stumbled towards Cree’s room, Lucien fought with his boots and coat and prepared to go out. Cree stumbled against the wall and helped him to his feet as he tried and failed to stand up again. “Where are you going?”

“Had a thought while we were talking,” he mumbled. “There’s something I still have to do, just in case we somehow don’t pull it off.” He reached into his veins- or tried to- and frowned when he realized he couldn’t pull the alcohol from his blood. “Fuck, Mollymauk has that one. Mollymauk!” He started to yell drunkenly, but Cree hissed and planted her paw over his mouth. “He’s asleep, Lucien, like everyone else probably is at this hour. Here. Let me.”

She patted his cheek and gave him a lesser restoration that cleared the alcohol from him. He breathed in the sweet taste of sobriety and swore never to get that drunk again. He normally didn’t indulge so much, but the victory was so sweet and it required sweeter libations and, really, he can’t be held responsible for going overboard after so many vicious losses.

Anyway. “That’s better,” he kissed her knuckles and then turned to go, ignoring her pleas to tell her where he was going beyond a simple “I have a long overdue conversation to have” and a polite wave thrown over his shoulder as he exited the mansion and stepped out onto the familiar path leading towards the Estate Sybaritic.

[magatsv]

Darkness didn't even have the decency to eat his soul and leave nothing else. It was only gloom, a misty black brooding oppressively on the horizon. The Planet was a presence. Like always. They couldn't be anywhere else. 

Broken architecture made jagged smiles against bullet-pocked concrete. The moon waxed crescent above him in a silver, broke-jawed grin.

He smiled back at it.

So strange...

The rebar twisted and broke beneath his fingers like thin twigs, rubble swept away in a single motion by one of his four arms. The air was crisp, biting cold and clean like spring water- refreshing despite his lack of clothing. Dark miasma swirled around his footsteps, his very presence almost akin to living putrefaction- A lingering rot without fully decaying back into the earth. Mold crept over the surfaces near him, fungi uprooted the flowers and released their spores, fresh and young greenery peeking through the cracks of the fallen highway drooped low for bottom-feeders to feast upon.

As soon as he realized he was famished, a sacrifice willingly presented itself before him. Some poor fool picking through the refuse and scrap, warm with life as his breath made small puffs of steam in the chilled air. His blood went down smoothly (a bit soured by the presence of alcohol), his skin and meat still fairly mature without being too old for his liking. 

At least it was a hot meal.

There was more food to be had as he traversed the wastes, his state of undress smeared with viscera alarming the local populace. A harker selling his wares abandoned his bun cart, which Sukuna overturned to begin eating the pillowy dough stuffed with barbecued pork sitting within.

The curse began to lick the thick, unctuous sauce from his clawed fingers and overheard another human talking about visiting a house of ill repute before they spotted the him. In a heartbeat he'd closed the distance between them, grabbing the stranger in a chokehold. He lifted the man's struggling body high into the air, tilting his head to one side curiously.

If there were women, then he much preferred their flesh to cleanse his palate.

@poeticphoenix

[cleaningsilverspring]

Preserving Your Precious Pieces: The Importance Of Professional Rug Cleaning In Silver Spring

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This article will take a closer look at:

- Understanding rug materials

- Identifying common threats to their condition

- The professional difference in the rug cleaning process

- Scheduling your next cleaning appointment in Silver Spring.

Understanding Rug Materials: Why Professional Cleaning is Crucial for Longevity

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These experts understand the unique needs of each rug and are up-to-date on the latest techniques in safe and effective cleaning.

Utilizing their services provides peace of mind that your rugs will remain in top condition for years to come.

Rug cleaning Silver Spring is an investment worth making; with proper care and maintenance from professionals like Prolific Steamers, you can rest assured that your cherished pieces are being treated with respect and attention they deserve.

Identifying Common Threats to Your Rug's Condition: Stains, Dust, and Wear

Adverse conditions such as stains, dust and wear can be likened to a ticking time bomb, threatening the longevity of any rug; however, professional cleaning can help to neutralize these threats.

Stains caused by spills or pet accidents are a common factor in rug degradation. Left untreated, they can leave behind unsightly discoloration and odors that will make your rug look less attractive and inviting.

Dust accumulation is another threat to the quality of your rug; if left unchecked it can cause abrasions to the fibers that will eventually lead to premature wear.

Lastly, normal foot traffic with its dirt and debris can cause discoloration over time as well as matting of the fibers if left unchecked.

Fortunately, professional cleaners understand how to best address each of these issues using specialized techniques and equipment designed for each type of material. Depending on the specific needs of your rug, they may opt for steam cleaning or dry cleaning methods in order to restore it back to its original state without damaging the delicate fibers or ruining its colors.

Professional cleaning is an important step in keeping your precious pieces looking their best for years to come — so don’t hesitate when it comes time for some TLC!

The Professional Difference: An In-Depth Look at the Rug Cleaning Process in Silver Spring

For optimal longevity and aesthetic appeal, a comprehensive rug cleaning process should be employed to combat the damaging effects of stains, dust accumulation, and wear. Professional rug cleaners in Silver Spring use specialized techniques to ensure that your rugs look their best for years to come.

First, they’ll conduct an inspection of the piece to determine what sort of cleaning will be necessary before beginning the job. This may involve vacuuming or brushing off any surface dust particles that have accumulated over time and lightly spot-treating any areas with visible soiling.

Next, a professional deep-cleaning method is used on your rug depending on its material type and condition—this could be steam cleaning, immersion washing, dry cleaning, or shampooing. During this step, dirt and allergens trapped in the fibers are removed for a thorough clean.

Following this stage is an additional rinse which removes any remaining residue left behind from the cleanser used earlier in the process. Finally, once drying is complete—which can take anywhere from several hours to days depending on humidity levels—your freshly cleaned rug is ready for display!

Scheduling Your Rug Cleaning: How Often Should You Call in the Professionals in Silver Spring?

Maintaining a regular cleaning routine is essential for ensuring that rugs remain in optimal condition over time, and with the right approach, homeowners can maximize longevity and appearance.

In Silver Spring, professional rug cleaning services offer an invaluable resource for those wishing to preserve their precious pieces. The frequency of these cleanings depends on a variety of factors, including location, use, and material type.

For example, high-traffic areas will require more frequent attention than out-of-the-way locations. Additionally, if the rug is used frequently or exposed to dirt or spills it may need to be professionally cleaned more often than one that receives minimal contact or use.

Finally, different materials require varying levels of maintenance; wool rugs generally require steam cleaning every 12 months while synthetic fibers may only need to be serviced every 18 months. By taking into account these elements when scheduling professional rug cleanings in Silver Spring, homeowners can ensure that their carpets maintain their beauty and luster for years to come.

Conclusion

The importance of professional rug cleaning in Silver Spring cannot be overstated.

Studies have shown that regular rug cleaning can extend the life of a rug by up to five times, saving homeowners thousands of dollars on potential replacements.

Additionally, professional cleaning services remove allergens and pollutants from the home environment, making it a healthier place for families to live and thrive.

It is clear that investing in quality rug cleaning is an essential part of preserving your precious pieces and ensuring their longevity.

With the right care, rugs can be maintained for years to come, providing comfort and beauty to any space.

Prolific Steamers

Williamsburg Dr, Silver Spring, MD 20901

Phone: (410) 253-9940

[bathskitchen]

Transform Your Bathroom Oasis: Exploring the Elegance of Shower Enclosures | Beautiful Baths & Kitchens 

Elevate Your Bathroom Oasis: Unveiling the Elegance of Shower Enclosures

Introduction:

Welcome to the epitome of luxury and sophistication with Beautiful Baths & Kitchens. In this blog post, we'll guide you through the transformative power of shower enclosures, exploring the unique styles, materials, and design elements that will turn your Montgomery County bathroom into a haven of elegance.Step into the epitome of luxury and sophistication as we explore the transformative power of shower enclosures in Montgomery County. 

1. Embracing Elegance through Design

   Shower enclosures are more than just practical additions; they're design statements. From sleek, frameless glass options that provide a minimalist look to intricately designed framed enclosures, the choices are vast. Discover how each design element contributes to the overall elegance of your bathroom.

2. Material Matters

   Explore the diverse range of materials used in crafting shower enclosures, such as tempered glass, acrylic, and metal frames. Uncover the unique characteristics of each material, understanding how they enhance durability, aesthetics, and ease of maintenance.

3. Space Optimization

   Not all bathrooms are created equal, but shower enclosures are versatile enough to fit into any space. Delve into space-saving designs, corner enclosures, and custom solutions that maximize the functionality of your bathroom while maintaining an air of sophistication.

4. Technological Marvels

   Experience the latest technological advancements in shower enclosure features. From smart glass that transitions from transparent to opaque with a touch, to innovative water-saving mechanisms, discover how technology is seamlessly integrated into these elegant fixtures.

5. Wellness and Comfort

   Transform your daily shower routine into a spa-like experience. Explore the features that contribute to relaxation and well-being, such as steam shower options, built-in seating, and customizable lighting. Unwind in a space designed to cater to your comfort and rejuvenation.

6. Easy Maintenance and Cleaning

   A key element of an elegant bathroom is its cleanliness. Learn about the materials and features that make shower enclosures easy to maintain. Say goodbye to cumbersome cleaning routines and hello to a sparkling, effortlessly chic bathroom space.

Conclusion

Elevate your Montgomery County residence with the timeless allure of shower enclosures. Whether you reside in Bethesda, Silver Spring, or any other charming neighborhood, discover how these elegant fixtures can enhance both the aesthetics and functionality of your bathroom. With a focus on local craftsmanship, customization, and expert installation, your journey to a more refined bathroom shower enclosures in montgomery county begins here.

[redcliffscloset]

Check out this listing I just added to my Poshmark closet: Neon Buddha Hooded Tunic Top Womens S Magenta Pink Zip Neck 3/4 Sleeve Cotton.

[rainiac-blog]

Check out this listing I just added to my Poshmark closet: Tooled .925 Sterling Silver 6 Oval Ethiopian Opals Bezel Set Cross 18"

[anya-ackerman]

Today I’ve been making bread and baking and decorating a cake and wearing a cute white summer dress and so now have my headcanons about being Levi’s cute little cottagecore housewife

🌻 Levi loves when you bake. Not only does the house smell amazing, either with that scent of freshly made bread or delicious cookies or cakes, but it also means a lovely dessert that night as well. Pies, cookies, cakes, cupcakes, breads and pastries…you can do it all!

🌻 And more often than not they’re a gift you’ll give folks who are new to your neighborhood or you’ll swing by the Corps base to give treats to some of the newer cadets Levi is helping to train. Some of them you bring by are for specific people: a strawberry shortcake slice for Petra, a blueberry pie for Hange to share with Moblit and Nifa, some shortbread cookies for Nanaba and Miche, or maybe a nice brioche for Erwin. And of course, a special treat for your husband as well, his favorite chocolate cake to have with his tea~

🌻 Levi doesn’t mind you doing all the chores and cleaning around the house because you’re the only person who can keep cleanliness to a level he can stand. Maybe even more so. Clothing and linens are always nicely steamed and pressed, ironed fresh from the laundry and set back neatly. You manage at least one day to deep clean one part of the house while doing daily maintenance on the rest so it doesn’t get overwhelming ever. Silver is polished, the floors are freshly swept and mopped, rooms are dusted and windows are opened to let fresh air move through the house.

🌻 Picking fresh vegetables from your garden and fruits from your orchard. Making dinners with fresh ingredients picked that morning. Or making desserts and pies with fruit picked that afternoon. You even set up a little stall in the market to sell a lot of the over abundance you can’t store. It helps make a little extra money for you both to tuck away if the need be.

🌻 If you have animals as well, getting fresh milk and eggs on the daily. Making your own cheeses and butter. Sitting in the grass out behind your house and watching your small Jersey cow grazing with the goats and sheep and your chickens and ducks putter about, searching for grubs to snack on.

🌻 Of course, you also grow various tea plants. You got very good at creating your own tea blends for your husband, trying different flavors and ingredients together. Sometimes you label the blend something to do with an inside joke between you two. You always bring him a nice tea blend with your baked goods when you visit him when he can’t get away from the base.

🌻 Also having a flower garden where you bring in fresh cut flowers. You make gorgeous bouquets and place them all about your home. In the bedroom, as centerpieces on the dining table, in the bathroom, Levi’s office…they’ve even managed to find a home in Hange’s lab! Though that was more Moblit’s doing, as he asked you for a bouquet to help brighten up Hange’s space.

🌻 And with flowers comes bees and, of course, honey! Making lots of honey to sell at your market stand. Plus, using the wax to make candles or skin care products. Plus the preserves, chutneys and jams you make from the edible flowers in your garden or the fruits from your orchard. Erwin himself has a soft spot for your peach and lilac jams that you make every year and will “pester” Levi every spring to see if you’ve made a new batch.

🌻 Being skilled in sewing so you help fix up Levi’s uniform from time to time or anything else that ends up getting worn. Coming from the Underground, where he didn’t have a lot, Levi is meticulous about his appearance while also wanting to make things last as long as they can. You’re a brilliant seamstress, sometimes dabbling in making your own dresses which you show off to Levi. And when children arrive, that means sewing baby clothes and toy dolls! Not even to mention knitting or crocheting sweaters and blankets!

🌻 Levi being gently woken up to you kissing his face gently. You always wake up first so you can make sure to make him some breakfast before he goes back to the base. Sometimes he’ll tease you and pull you into bed with him, nuzzling your hair and kissing your neck gently. You giggle and smack his shoulder playfully, telling him to get up and as he watches you head out of the bedroom back to the kitchen he seriously wonders what he did and when to deserve you.

🌻 And when Levi comes home? Especially from an expedition where he’s been away for at least a month? He always spots you in the crowd greeting the returning scouts, smiling and waving to him. He goes over to you, scooping you into his arms and holding you tightly. He’ll kiss you gently, holding you close and let you place a flower crown on his head.

🌻 It’s moments like that where he doesn’t care who sees him or if they’re doing too much PDA that would normally embarrass him. All he cares about in that moment is being home, having you in his arms again. You’re safe and your safety is worth all the sacrifices made.

🌻 And when that bump in your belly starts to show more, when it becomes more obvious that you’re with child, with his child, Levi can’t help coming up behind you while you make dinner and wrapping his arms around you. He places his hands on your growing stomach and kisses your neck as you two discuss names for your baby.

🌻 Levi knows that the world outside the Walls is hell. And Levi’s life has been nothing short of a hell itself that would have broken a lesser man. But seeing your smile, watching you peacefully putter about the house and tease him about potential names for your child, Levi smiles gently and knows that he’d do everything in his life the same if it meant getting to have this peace with you.

[thedummysdummy]

Just a Saturday Chore Day

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Posting from mobile because I'm too lazy to pull out the computer right now. I'll title this properly tomorrow LOL. But I hope you enjoy!

~~

It was a lovely Saturday morning. Sunlight streamed through the windows and highlighted the dust that floated through the air, the motes dancing like glowing glitter in the natural air currents of the large room. Spring bird song made a fitting accompaniment to the dancing dust and a fresh soundtrack to the day.

Victor rolled over and opened his eyes, feeling quite rested. It wasn't often he allowed himself to indulge in a morning of sleeping in. He noted the clock read 9am as he stretched a long stretch, his slender form extending to its limit from the tips of his fingers to the ends of his toes. A wide yawn filled his lungs with cool morning air.

An abundantly filled laundry basket met his gaze as Victor disrobed for a shower and dropped his dirty things on top of the pile. "Guess it's laundry day," he murmured, running his fingers through his extra messy hair, which seemed intent on escaping his scalp in every direction at once. The girl often made fun of his morning hair, but no matter how he fell asleep he always managed to wake up with his head burrowed into the pillow. Thoughts of those mornings he woke up with the girl by his side brought a smile to his face and a warmth to his heart that followed him into the steaming shower waters.

A cheerful (if lacking in harmoniousness) tune filled the shower, echoing on the marble walls like a fine performance hall. Victor stood for a long time, just enjoying the cascade of hot water falling on his head and rolling down his chiseled shoulders. He eventually noted the grime on the shower door and soap that had built up with a slight frown as he rinsed the shampoo away. "Hmmm. Bathroom scrubbing day as well, I see."

The water began to cool, so with a sigh he turned off the tap and quickly toweled off. A quick shave of any facial hair, a comb through his now-soft crown of hair, and a thorough tooth-brushing finished up the grooming and Victor returned to the bedroom. It seemed a waste to dirty too many clothes on laundry day, so he slid into a pair of boxer briefs and socks before deeming that sufficient. Nobody was coming over today, anyway.

A kitchen filled with the dishes of last night's experimental recipes reminded Victor that he had, in fact, been drunk-cooking last night. "I had really hoped that curry had just been a horrible nightmare," he grumbled. However, the pot still sat in the sink with the remains of said nightmare. As did the empty bottle of bourbon… It had been a lonely night, alright?

But the sunshine of a clear blue morning chased away the loneliness. "That's it. It's an entire-house cleaning day, it seems. This calls for some music." Victor ambled over to the record player with a steaming cup of coffee in his hand to peruse his collection. He paused on a collection of Bob Seger and the Silver Bullet band, nodding once before placing the vinyl on the player and lowering the needle.

The crackle and pop of a record beginning filled the air for a brief moment before the first rock notes burst forth from the speaker. A broad grin filled Victor's face and he returned to the kitchen to get the broom. The bristles against the floor scraped in time to the music as the beat slipped from Victor's ears down to his feet. His legs and hips joined in as the songs progressed, both hands gripped the bedroom handle, and before he even realized what he was doing, the cheerful businessman was belting out the lyrics just as bold as you please.

"Just take those old records off the shelf, I sit and listen to them by myself! Today's music ain't got the same soul, I like that old time rock and roll!" Victor's off-key but happy voice filled the room as he held the broom to his lips like a microphone. Around the room he danced, singing and sweeping and giving the performance his all.

As the song reached its crescendo, Victor was 115% engrossed. His voice reached its loudest pitch and he took a running start across the room, stopping short to slide across the floor in his stocking feet. He came to rest at the record player and paused for a moment, catching his breath after that stirring performance. He was about to choose another record when a sound caught him off guard.

It was the sound of laughter. And not just any laughter…it was the most familiar laughter. Her laughter. Victor whipped around, his face and ears catching fire as he did so. "What are you doing here?! And how long have you been there?!" he sputtered, half his brain screaming at him to dive for cover while the other half desperately searched for a way to play this off in a cool fashion.

The girl laughed even harder as Victor continued to have more and more in common with a tomato. "Oh, about two verses or so," she managed to squeak through the chiming bells of her mirth. "You were really enjoying yourself so I didn't want to interrupt. But uhh… Surprise! I'm back from my trip!" She crossed the room and wrapped her arms around Victor's bare torso, the warmth from his physical exertion and utter embarrassment soaking quickly into her skin. "Glad to see you weren't just moping the entire time I was gone."

Victor… Seemed to actually be speechless. He stood awkwardly stiffly for a moment before consciously deciding to act as if this were all completely normal and fine. The girl didn't seem at all phased or embarrassed by his activities or lack of dress, so… He inwardly shrugged and returned the tightness of her hug. "Of course not, dummy. What do you expect me to do when you're gone? Just mope about the house moaning about how much I miss you?"

"I mean...a little bit of that might be nice, yes," she replied, a glimmer in her eye. Her hands slid down to the small of his back and pulled him closer, placing a kiss on his cheek. His breath quickened and desire flickered in his eyes. Their closeness was intoxicating and he drank it in, allowing it to fill his soul.

"You're such a tease," he grumbled, trying not to pant too obviously. "But I thought you weren't supposed to be back until tomorrow? If I'd known you were coming today, I would have finished the chores yesterday."

Her laughter for his ears and she pulled back slightly to look him in the eyes. "Well, the filming ended early and I thought it would be fun to surprise you. I didn't think it would be this fun though." A fiendish grin slowly spread across her face and she ran her finger tip gently down the center of Victor's chest. Victor swallowed hard, teetering on the edge of a decision when the girl pulled away and picked up the broom. "I'll help you clean up! You've helped clean my apartment before, so it's only fair. Besides, I'm sure some of the things that need cleaned are my mess anyway."

Victor scowled as her warmth suddenly disappeared. "Well, you're right about that one. Between you and Pudding, it's amazing anything is ever clean around here. Why don't you start on the dishes while I go get dressed, if you're insisting on helping?"

"Sure, but… I am rather enjoying your current outfit." The girl's voice and face were so dead-pan that Victor couldn't help but begin to laugh.

"Well aren't you getting more and more bold?" he teased, wrapping his long arms around the girl and pressing his lips to hers with ferocity. She was caught off guard by his sudden motion and her eyes widened as Victor bit her lip, his heat suddenly threatening to overwhelm her. He pushed her up against the wall and continued to kiss her again and again, his body pressed so tightly against her chest that she could hardly draw a breath. Or maybe it was the intensity of his kissing that stole the breath from her lungs… Or both. Most likely both.

Not that she minded. Her hands scrambled for purchase against his skin, eventually settling for gripping the waistband of his underwear tightly. "Last night I might have moped a little," he whispered, the electricity in his voice sending a chill down her spine.

By the time he pulled away, the girl was so lightheaded and weak in the knees that Victor had to support her for a few moments while her legs regained contact with her brain. Without a word he picked up the broom and resumed sweeping as if nothing had happened, though his well-defined muscles seemed to flex a little more than was required to move a broom…the girl's eyes remained glued to his familiar form, drinking in every last detail that she had missed over the last week abroad.

"I know staring at me seems to be your favorite pastime lately, but those dishes won't wash themselves." Victor's dry tone couldn't quite hide the flirtiness beneath and again the girl giggled, though this time it was her turn for flushed cheeks and burning ears. He tossed her a dish rag and the girl went to the sink, a smile in every crevice of her features.

Well, at least chores certainly are a little more fun with good company and a nice view.