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pickleandtuxie · 5 months ago

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Ceramic colouring

Part two of my notes from the studio info sheets, which are currently being uploaded at what used to be glacial pace in the 1980s, but is much slower now… Apologies for the length, I get a lot of questions on the differences between various things. Also, my work is definitely not the best examples but because this is done for people buying or learning at my place, it's what gets used a lot for pix.

UNDERSTANDING ADDED CERAMIC COLOURS

Most ceramic pieces have some form of colour decoration applied to them. These vary from quick dips in glaze to complex colouring processes and even precious metals applied in a third firing.

Here are some of the most common colouring techniques.

Glazes

Ceramic glazes are the glassy coating on ceramic pieces that helps to make them tougher and more waterproof, as well as being beautiful. The most basic and traditional glazes are formed with basic materials including salt, quartz, ash and feldspar, with minerals such as copper used as colouring agents.

These days, most potters purchase commercial glazes, which have three major parts: Silica, which melts to create glass; alumina, which ‘stiffens’ the glaze so it holds to the clay rather than melting all over the kiln (usually a fine clay such as bentonite), and flux, which lowers the temperature of the melting point so that the glaze will come glass but the ceramic underneath won’t melt. Glazes can be applied by dipping, pouring, spraying or brushing onto the piece. Some potters also mix up their own, using chemical recipes from glaze specialists or researching their own combinations, which can alter qualities including colour, texture, translucency, how it ‘breaks’ over texture on the clay and how well a glaze will layer with others. You can see some differences in some of these qualities in these leaves.

Glazes are applied to pieces that have previously been ‘bisque’ fired (the first firing that turns ‘greenware’ clay into a solid ceramic piece) and then receive a second firing to turn the glaze into glass and partially or fully vitrify the clay. It’s important that the type of glaze used matches the type of clay body for firing temperature (e.g. Earthenware, Mid-Fire or Stoneware). Additionally, some clays contain minerals that will ‘clash’ with some glazes and cause yellowing or other unwanted effects, so testing is important. Talk with your supplier about glazes that are low in minerals like Zinc, which is a frequent offender in some circumstances.

Underglazes

Unlike glazes, which coat the clay, underglazes become a part of the clay body underneath them. They can be applied to clay that has already been bisque fired, or to greenware, which is clay that has not yet been fired.

They are made up of flux material, which – as in glaze – will lower the melting point of the other materials so they melt and adhere to the clay, colouring agents that are in general made from oxides and stains, water and binders.

Most potters use commercial underglazes, which are extremely predictable in how they will perform. The advantage of this is that you can hand-mix colours and alter textures. For example, in my magpie pin (right), I mixed the orange for the eye from two colours that were nearly but not-quite right. The blacks and greys on the beak are watered down in parts to make them more translucent and add some dimensionality, as is the background blue.

Most underglazes are true to colour (what you see is what you get) in both the bottle and mixes, though some (esp. royal blue and some pinks) change colour between painting and firing and others shift colour or burn out altogether at higher firing temperatures. Some colours can disappear on stoneware or porcelain, as you can see in the two photos below: several colours changed value significantly in these porcelain leaves when they were fired at around 1300°C. Additionally, the glaze had zinc in it, which went cloudy with some of the reds.

Underglazes can be stamped, sponged painted, sprayed, printed and more, delivering effects ranging from solid colour to translucent washes. You can layer underglazes with different techniques, such as the pendant below, which was painted blue then screenprinted with black (which wasn’t actually quite thick enough to screen, hence the shadowing in parts of this print –my bad).

You can also paint a textured piece with underglaze then wipe the surface, leaving the colour in the deeper parts of the texture and either removing it or making it into a soft wash on the surface. This is particularly effective when all or part of the surface will afterwards be glazed, as it can create additional effects. The lizard pin below was underglazed with brushed-on black which was left to dry, then wiped from the surface with swirly motions and a Chux cloth, giving a subtly Goth background, which the clear glaze accentuates.

At very high temperatures, some underglazes will self-glaze, but most require glaze over the top if the item is to be functional (including jewellery) as a piece’s bare or underglazed surface will pick up and hold oils from food, skin, make-up and so on and can be permanently marked by dust and dirt.

Many ceramicists make good use of the attractive effects made possible by using a translucent coloured glaze over an opaque underglaze in a different colour. One danger with glazing over underglaze is that some glazes will react chemically with the underglaze beneath and can either change the colour or create a milky cast in the glaze. I didn’t check that the stoneware glaze I used on the red leaves above was zinc-free and so the red oxide reacted with the zinc in the glaze to create a waxy look that has made several of these pendants imperfect.

Slips and Engobes

Two of the most traditional ways of adding colour and decoration to pottery, slips and engobes are closely related. They contain the same ingredients as glaze, but in different proportions.

Clay is the main ingredient in slip, making up 50-90% of the final product in most commercial slips, with the rest being colour from oxides and stains and flux. Slips can also be made from ‘watered down’ clay of different colour (or with added oxide or stain) that is applied as either a decorative element in itself or to change the colour of the clay body for further decoration. They are applied to clay before it is fired, usually at a leather-hard stage, and can be fluid like paint or thick like toothpaste, which means they can add texture as well as colour.

It’s important that slips ‘fit’ the clay body they are used on, so they need to have similar moisture levels and fire at the same temperatures as the base clay. In my tawny frogmouth chick plaque below, I used a low-fire commercial green slip and home-made white slip from another earthenware clay body to block out the shapes of the chick and leaves and make it easier to get detail in the final decoration on the darker background. I applied the white slip thickly, to get a sense of texture in the feathers.

You can absolutely combine slip with other colouring methods: I added detail and more leaf colour and sticks with underglaze after the bisque firing and then glazed it for effect, though I think next time I won't as the frame should protect the little fellas.

Texture is a common feature in the traditional ways slips have been used, such as in this 17th century charger of Charles II held at LACMA (below, https://collections.lacma.org/node/252241), where the thick lines of slip provide outlines and raised decorative elements to the design.

Engobes have a lower clay content than slips, as around 20-50% (though still higher than glaze) and the clay content is more likely to have been pre-fired. They also contain flux or silica. This means you can use them on bisque-fired pieces as well as greenware. They sit between slips and glazes in their properties and in their ‘glossy’ finish after firing, though some are designed to have a glassier finish.

One important difference between engobes and glazes is that engobes don’t move around as much during firing, so if you have a detailed design, the lines will stay crisp and colours separate. This Iranian bowl (below) from around 1600 CE has a base of white engobe then coloured engobes and stains painted over the top, all of which have stayed crisp. (See https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Bowl,_Iran,_Safavid_period,_c._1600_AD,_pottery,_polychrome_on_white_engobe_under_transparent_glaze_-_Montreal_Museum_of_Fine_Arts_-_Montreal,_Canada_-_DSC09729.jpg for more details on this bowl.) You can use engobes with slips or underglaze, or, like the bowl, with glazes on top.

Two slip-related techniques are worth noting. The first is terra sigillata (‘sealed earth’ in modern Italian but ‘clay with little images’ in Latin, referring to the pots it was mostly used on). This is a very fine slip that has had all the coarser particles filtered out (you can buy it commercially or make your own) and is then applied to a smooth, clean and bone-dry surface before bisque firing (it can have texture, but the terra sig will show every mark, so it needs to not have unwanted grooves and scratches). Several coats are used, which are then buffed to create a high-shine finish that glows like a soft clear glaze. It makes pots more waterproof, if not to the level of glaze. It was a popular technique for traditional pots such as this Gaulish one (below) from the Wikipedia page on terra sig and shows up in many countries, including traditional Mexican pots. (Image by AgTigress - Own work, CC BY-SA 3.0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=11307176)

Finally, sgraffito is a technique where slips, engobes or underglazes are applied to a leather-hard clay surface and then scratched back to create decoration. It’s a very traditional technique for drawing on items in a detailed, monochrome fashion, such as this Mediaeval Tring Parish Church tile held in the British Museum (See https://tringlocalhistory.org.uk/Tiles/index.htm) but it can also be used for more contemporary designs and, with engobes, carve down through different layers of colours for added effects.

Oxides and stains

Several metallic oxides are commonly used as colouring agents, particularly iron, cobalt, chrome, copper and titanium. They can be incorporated into a wide range of techniques including brushing on using water or commercial brushing medium, adding to slips or engobes or to the clay body itself, spraying or printing. Cobalt oxide, for example, gives Delftware its distinctive blue decoration, as in this Japanese style vase, left (from the Wikipedia page on Delftware, By Daderot, CC0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=23743698).

Oxides are naturally occurring and require careful material handling safety in their raw, powder forms. All require PPE and some are extremely toxic. There are good ranges of pre-mixed commercial products available for people who do not have the facilities for safe handling in their workspaces, particularly if that's inside your house. All produce strong colours and there is a wide range of colour that can be achieved using oxides, though some are less stable than others at higher temperatures, particularly reds.

Stains are man-made colourants that are used in most of the other options on this list. They go through a series of processes that make them more stable than some oxides at high temperatures and more predictable, easy to use and often safer than oxides. They can be used in all the same techniques as oxides and are the colouring agents in most commercial glazes, underglazes and commercially made slips and engobes.

Lustres

One of the most expensive techniques, lustres are added in a third firing at a lower temperature than the bisque or glaze firing. They are made of combinations of metals or metallic salts, resins and oils that are painted on over the glaze and deliver a shiny metallic or iridescent finish depending on the ingredients. Cups with bands of gold are a common example, but other colours are common, such as this blue lustre dodo by William de Morgan (below, https://www.demorgan.org.uk/collection/multi-lustre-dodo-tile/).

Lustres require very careful material handling for user safety (including dedicated brushes and a respirator) and for their inherent difficulty and aren’t cheap! Because lustres are metals, you should never put lustreware in the dishwasher or microwave.

But wait, there’s more…

This is a brief overview of ways of colouring ceramics but the full list is vastly longer. It includes enamels and onglazes, effects created by fire and smoke, colours from ash and salts, colours only available with particular types of firing and effects created by draping feathers, hair and metals on items fresh from firing. Hit the internet or library if you’re interested – it’s a fascinating topic and the results are beautiful.

#pottery #Pickle and Tuxie info sheets #Ceramics studio information #Ceramics technical

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pristinegroupcleaning · 1 year ago

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How to Get Rid of Clogged Restaurant Filters

When a restaurant’s exhaust hood filters get dirty, the fan can’t work properly to pull smoke and grease out of the kitchen. This can make the restaurant filter cleaning, smoky and hot, and customers don’t want to eat in a place that smells like a greasy kitchen. But if you clean your filters regularly, the fan can continue to do its job. The best way to do that is with an automated hood cleaning system like AutoMist. These systems can be programmed to clean your vent system on a schedule that fits with your kitchen’s operations. They work from inside the hood and ducts, spraying a mix of grease-dissolving water and detergent that goes to work to remove accumulated grease.

Using this method eliminates the need to shut down the restaurant for a long cleaning process. It also frees up staff to focus on other tasks. If you don’t want to deal with a third-party kitchen exhaust cleaning company, there are ways you can cut back on the need for a full cleaning by doing things like installing hood access doors to make it easier to get at your filter.

First, start by removing your filters and getting them ready for the cleaning process. They should be wiped down with a sponge or non-abrasive brush to remove loose debris. Then, fill a sink or large container with a solution of degreaser and hot water. Submerge the filters and let them soak for 10 to 15 minutes.

After the soaking, drain the sink and rinse your filters. You can then use the sponge or non-abrasive brush again to remove any remaining grease and dirt from your filter. Now, let the filters air dry before putting them back in the exhaust system.

When you’re finished, your filters should look good as new and be ready for use. They’ll help keep your kitchen cleaner and safer for your employees and customers. And, they’ll help your kitchen exhaust system stay in compliance with NFPA 96 requirements.

A clogged filter can lead to an overworked motor, forcing it to work overtime to push heat and smoke out of the restaurant. That puts the restaurant at risk of a fire. But, when the filters are cleaned on a regular basis and following a cleaning schedule, the fan can continue to do its job without causing a fire hazard.

To avoid costly repairs and expensive re-cleaning, it’s important to follow a cleaning schedule for your exhaust system. A reputable and certified hood cleaning company will clean the entire kitchen exhaust system from the hood canopy to the exhaust fan and baffle filters. This will not only keep the kitchen and customers safe, but it will help you avoid a costly fire. And, it’ll allow you to continue to receive inspection stickers that show when your restaurant is due for a full cleaning by a third-party kitchen exhaust company. This will keep your restaurant in compliance with local and state regulations.

Pristine Group Cleaning provides unrivaled quality cleaning services to Houses, Apartments, Townhouses, Estates, and Small Offices throughout Sydney. Hire our professional cleaning services in Sydney and transform the entire look and feel of your place with us! We are ready to sweep off your feet with cleaning services in Sydney. We are passionate about our work and keep up with technology and progress.

#restaurant filter cleaning #cleaning restaurant grill #restaurant kitchen cleaning services #restaurant cleaning near me

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becoration · 1 year ago

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Practical home hacks that will get you out of trouble

Post has been published on becoration

Practical home hacks that will get you out of trouble

Surely more than once you have been held back in your plans because you were missing something at home that you thought you had. Maybe you were out of dishwasher detergent, you didn’t have silver cleaner, your mattress got stained with blood, or you have mold on the walls and need to get rid of it without having to call professionals.

How about we give you some practical home tricks? Below are some that can be very useful for everyday life. Wanna take a look?

Practical tricks for cleaning silver

If you have silver products and you thought you had that silver cleaner but you don’t, don’t worry. In fact, you don’t have to put it off for another day, you can make a homemade remedy instead.

If you mix baking soda with hot water until a paste forms, you can apply it to the silver items you have. You can do this with a toothbrush or a cloth to scrub well. Then you just have to rinse with water and dry with another clean cloth.

If it’s very dirty, what you can do is even put those items in a basin or bowl with water and baking soda and let it sit for a while to clean. Then you just have to rub a little before rinsing it.

Practical tricks for cleaning a bloodstained mattress

If your mattress has been stained with blood (from a wound, menstruation, etc.) by accident, know that it’s not the end of the world, nor something that has to stay there. One of the most practical and easy ways to remove the blood is by using hydrogen peroxide.

When you apply it directly to the stain, it will start to disappear. So you should scrub a little and repeat until it’s completely gone.

Then you just have to let it dry and it will look good as new.

If the stain has been there for a while, then maybe just that won’t remove it, but if you make a little paste and let it act, you can gradually diminish it in several applications until there’s no trace of blood left.

Practical tricks for removing mold from walls

The appearance of mold on walls can happen for different reasons. But perhaps the most important thing is to remove it so you don’t have health problems (and then you can search for the causes).

Well, one of the practical tricks you can use is to mix equal parts water and white vinegar. Put it in a spray bottle and, as the name suggests, spray this on the moldy wall. Let it sit for a few minutes and then scrub with a brush or sponge to remove the mold.

Then you should rinse the wall with clean water.

Now, it may happen that, no matter how much you scrub, the mold won’t go away. If this happens, you can try another mixture, but we advise you to have the space ventilated (open windows). The mixture is bleach with water, and it’s applied in the same way as the previous one.

The alternative to dishwasher detergent when you don’t have any

If when you go to put the dishwasher on you realize you don’t have dishwashing detergent, you don’t have to wait and go out to buy some. In fact, you can substitute it by mixing baking soda and salt. You can also add a little dish soap for extra cleaning.

In fact, this combination is one of the most effective practical tricks for cleaning and disinfecting dishes and also the dishwasher.

Practical tricks for eliminating shoe odor

With everyday use, as well as each person’s body odor, it can happen that your shoes smell a lot (to the point where you have to take them out to the balcony or window to avoid the smell).

However, this can be eliminated by sprinkling some baking soda and leaving it overnight. The baking soda will absorb that odor.

Another option is to use fabric bags with baking soda to keep them disinfected and fresh all the time.

The safest way to clean the microwave

Over time, the microwave gets dirty and sometimes it’s not easy to clean. But here we leave you one of the practical tricks that will be very useful to you. Simply put a container with water and lemon slices in the microwave. If it’s very, very dirty, you can then use a mixture of white vinegar and water.

In both cases, you should heat the mixture for a few minutes, until you see the steam starting to condense on the walls.

Right at that moment, you can use a clean cloth to clean the interior and remove the grease and residues left from using it.

Do you know more practical home tricks? Let us know in the comments.

via: MiMub in Spanish

#General

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pandakong · 3 years ago

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Doggust Day 8 - Mudi

This herding dog can have a merle coat, so you know I had to do it to ‘em

[ID in alt text]

#doggust #doggust2022 #mudi #mudi dog #my art or something #sketchy sketch #tombow brush pen #and a sponge brush and a water spray container thing

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aggressivelyclueless · 3 years ago

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hey @ghosts-haunt this one’s for you! happy Truce!! :D

no-one-knows-au/sleepover-summons x2 combo!! also with a lil angst!! check it:

They didn't start the night off with plans to summon the Phantom of Amity Park.

It was a perfectly reasonable escalation of events, that was all. Really.

There were five of them sprawled out in the basement that night: Sam, who was playing host for once and acted largely as the buffer between the rest of them and her parents (although Grandma, she assured her friends, was harmless); Malady Jones, armed with a flashdrive containing a dozen pirated horror flicks; Malady's boyfriend, Nathaniel, who scared very easily but had accepted the invitation nonetheless; Conrad Maynard Sterling, who was still trying desperately to get the name "Spike" to stick; and Felicity Warren, who Sam had met in third-hour and had brought her ouija board, just-in-case.

At sundown, when Malady and Nathaniel arrived, the plans were still loose; that said, they were still in "movies" territory, with "seance" being optional.

Now it was coming up on eleven. Three pizza boxes lie, eviscerated and weeping grease, on the floor by the popcorn machine. The projector was still dutifully rolling, but the screen held no one's attention: all eyes were on Conrad -- namely, on the dead-eyed vampire makeup he was doing for Malady.

"You're sure, no blood?" he asked her, for the twelfth time. He kept a jar of it in his bag, alongside other staples of the genre: liquid latex, scar putty, scab gel, glistening spray, technicolor bruise palette. Pale, undead faces were all well and good -- but the less savory it was to look at, the more horrible of an injury it was, the better Conrad got at mimicking it with a sponge or a brush.

"Yes, I'm sure," said Malady patiently, sliding a glance over to Nathaniel, who had sunk into a beanbag in the corner. "We'll do blood next time, when he won't be around to faint."

"I won't faint!" came the rebuttal from the beanbag. After some consideration: "I might puke a little, if it's gross. But I won't faint."

Conrad relented, nodding. "Close your eyes," he instructed to Malady, going in with the eyeliner next.

"Between the two, I'd say faint," said Sam, elbows propped on the back of the sofa, sock-feet kicking idly back and forth. "One less thing to explain to the cleaning lady tomorrow, you know?"

Nathaniel scoffed, but took the jab with decent humor. "Right, I'll pick that on purpose, then."

"Oh, hang on, credits are rolling," said Felicity, shuffling her way over to the laptop running the projector. "Did we want to put on another one?"

"Nah," said Malady and Nethaniel at the same time, and a moment later they both cracked up.

"Well it's not even midnight, don't tell me you gus are tired yet," said Sam, her swinging feet going still as she frowned. ". . . are you?"

"No," said Malady, "but I'm bored of Vincent Price now and if I eat any more popcorn I'm going to be the one puking."

Felicity slid around the side of the sofa, pointedly silent, but Sam watched her do it in amusement: she had a pretty good idea of what Felicity was about to suggest.

"You have an idea?" said Sam, offering the hook, and Felicity's smile turned smug.

"I have the board," she said, and now that it was out she may as well go on. "My place is a bust half the time, and Mal's basement hasn't been the same since they put the new water heater in -- but we always have good luck here."

"Seance? I'm game," said Conrad, and swore under his breath at the eyeliner. Malady threw a thumbs-up over her head in agreement, not wanting to disturb him; along with Sam's approval, that seemed to decide it.

But then Felicity's smile widened from smug to clever. "Seance, and," she said, and the four of them all turned her way in surprise.

"And?" Sam prompted, when no one else did.

"And. . . maybe a spell," said Felicity, "If you guys are down for it."

"Hang on a sec," Sam interceded, hearing the others making curious murmurs which would no doubt lead to the go-ahead if she said nothing. "What kind of spell? Where'd you find it?"

Felicity put a placating hand out. "Don't worry about it, it's not anything crazy. It's just a summoning spell. You've done a few of Nightingale's, right? The ones you said maybe had something to them? This one's his too, and I figured we could give it a shot."

"And summon what?" said Nathaniel, not liking the sound of where this was going.

Felicity shrugged deliberately. "Maybe nothing. Maybe we get it wrong, or it doesn't work. Or maybe. . . we summon a ghost."

"And if it goes wrong? My parents will never let me hear the end of it," said Sam, "Why didn't you say anything about this last week when we were at yours -- ?"

"Because I didn't have it all worked out yet," said Felicity, "Besides, it's basically a seance anyways. Every time we do those, it's all, inviting-the-dead-into-the-realm-of-the-living, right? Same thing."

"It is so not the same thing," said Conrad, then added, "I'm still down, though."

"I'm also-still-down. Unless you wanna wait until next week and we can make my house haunted instead. My mom won't care, you know that." Malady propped herself up as Conrad backed off her, swiping his setup back into the makeup bag.

Sam made a shrug of hesitation, but at that point it was an empty gesture. Truth be told, she'd been looking for a summoning spell, on-and-off, for weeks. She knew Nightingale's credibility, and even had a compilation of notes and surviving chapters of his books in her room; if there was a summoning ritual written down among his works, it would be authentic.

"Yeah, all right," she said at last, wondering what exactly would happen if they did manage to loose a ghost in the house. At the very least, she could ask it nicely to terrorize her mother and not her; anything beyond that was conjecture. "Sure. We can do a summoning. Who d'you have in mind?"

"A benign spirit," said Felicity, but Sam shook her head: there were no vagueries allowed now. Still, Felicity insisted. "One I’ve been kind of curious about, and one I don't think has ever actually hurt anyone."

"Like who?" Sam pressed, and finally Felicity relented with a long, overdramatic sigh.

"Fine. It's the reason I went digging so hard to find this thing, anyways: I want to summon the Phantom of Amity Park."

- - - -

The ritual began, per tradition, at the stroke of midnight. The rules -- at least, the version of them that had survived -- didn't mention said stroke being mandatory, but it was agreed that it coudn't hurt their chances, and the set-up left them only with a few minutes to spare, anyhow. Considering the intricacy of some of Nightingale's other ghost rituals, this one seemed a cakewalk: a few candles, a few lines of chalk, maybe a bloodflower or two (they eschewed those, considering they were optional anyway and this ordeal was functionally spur-of-the-moment), a bit of Latin here and there.

And it was for the best that both of Sam's parents went to bed early. Either one of them coming down to check on them now would have been a nightmare.

They each sat at the edge of the outermost circle drawn on the hardwood, palms down. The projector had been shut down and the overhead lights killed; the only illumination now was the flickering of the candles on the floor. The grandfather clock in the hall upstairs was keeping time for them, on the official side anyhow -- that was the kind of tolling you could hear from anywhere in the house, and seemed more definitive than the approximation of five phone clocks.

Any minute now, it would go off.

"Can I still chicken out?" said Nathaniel, although the others knew he wasn't going to. He was allowed, of course, and had been the whole time -- but he said, usually after second-guessing himself, that he had to find out what happened, one way or the other, and he'd probably never live it down if he bailed now.

Felicity, by far the most patient, nodded slowly. "Sure, you can. If you really want to."

"But, should I?"

"Beats me," said Malady, "Bail or don't. But make up your mind because once we get this thing going you won't have a choice anymore."

Nathaniel took his palms off the floor, almost made to swipe them clean on the side of his pants, reconsidered, put them back on the hardwood again. The others had gotten serious all of a sudden -- did that mean things would get bad? How bad, exactly? Thinking too much about it was pointing his anxiety into a tailspin, but if he let it freefall he'd be a nervous wreck in no time.

Maybe he would end up fainting after all -- but at least that was something he could handle.

He was considering pulling his hands away yet again when the first chime of the clock upstairs echoed down to them, and just like that it was too late. Whether he'd regret it or not -- he was really in it now. He, along with the others, had been given the Latin; like Felicity had promised, it wasn't terribly difficult.

The chalk under their palms reacted with the first pass, as if volatile, erupting into spitting, hissing flames that raced around the periphery and enclosed the runes within. Yellow faded to an ethereal, foggy white, emanating from five pairs of hands; with a second, third, fourth pass of the incantation they settled into a calmer ring on the hardwood floor. Despite them, the room around them went cold as stone.

And by the fifth pass, the outline of the ghost was slowly becoming visible. Wisps of white mist suggested hands, suggested feet, suggested hair, although the spirit's body was a black hole. It hung, utterly motionless, in the air over the circle, and at last its eyes winked open one at a time.

"Holy shit," Felicity breathed, "This thing really works. . . "

The ghost wafted slightly lower, turning its gaze down and regarding the summoners in turn. Aside from the eyes, which burned as two blindingly green circles, it did not appear to possess a face, or any other features at all. Nonetheless, the impression it gave was, indisputably, that it was frowning. When it spoke, its voice was a soundless echo.

(What do you want?)

"This was your idea," Malady whispered, nudging Felicity with the side of her foot, "You tell him."

Felicity refocused, still somewhat aghast that they had been successful at all. "You're the Phantom of Amity Park," she said slowly, "You're. . . you're real, then."

(Yes) said the ghost, now swaying lightly back and forth within the confines of the circle, as if testing its limits. Its unblinking eyes were locked on Felicity, betraying nothing.

"And you wander," said Malady, regretting it instantly as the ghost's eyes slid across its shadowed surface to face her. She shied back slightly, but kept her hands planted on the circle before her. "I mean, you get around. . . more than a lot of people. . . "

The mist that comprised the spirit's extremities seemed to draw slightly inward. (Yes) it said again, and, sensing the immediate question: (No grave, I think)

"Then what are you looking for?" said Felicity, and Malady was thankful for it. "You must be looking for something, if you get around so much, right?"

The ghost considered the question, but declined to give an answer. Instead, it asked: (Why? Are you going to find it for me?)

"Well -- " Felicity started, but Sam cut her off.

"Don't. If you say yes he's going to hold you to it."

"I was going to say maybe," said Felicity, "I know how this works, I'm not dumb."

"You're not," said Conrad, and Felicity was about to thank him for it when she realized he was focusing on the ghost. "You're not looking for anything, are you? That's not why you linger."

The ghost said nothing.

Conrad didn't let it off the hook. "Is it?"

(No. It's not) said the ghost reluctantly, and shifted in place, drawing the vague shapes of its hands closer together. The chill that had settled over the room deepened an extra degree.

"Then why do you linger?" said Malady carefully, and when the ghost rounded on her this time it was bristling.

(Do you care? Do you have to?) said the ghost, and Sam shot Malady a warning look: it wasn't angry yet, at least not outwardly -- best not to upset it.

But, damn her, Malady pressed: "Well, they’ve only been sighting you for a couple of months, I think -- we were curious."

(Don't be) snapped the ghost, its eyes crackling momentarily as two circles of green-tinted static. Its body seemed to radiate it as well, an almost-tangible feeling in the air like a static charge.

"Mal, quit it, don't piss him off," Sam hissed through her teeth, but found herself freezing up when the ghost turned its gaze on her. For a long moment it said nothing, only stared, unblinking, and she swore she could hear the ceaseless, featherlight whispers rolling off it like mist.

Then it seemed to regard them as a collective again. (What more do you want?)

"We want to know what you're after," said Malady, this time fully ignoring the daggers that Sam was glaring in her direction. "Or how come you don't vanish when someone sees you, or. . . "

(Don't) said the ghost, and the static was back again in its eyes. It wasn’t just a feeling this time -- the shape under its veil of fog was hissing now, soft but unmistakable, and the whiteflame chalk began to buzz under five sets of fingers, out-of-tune like a CRT monitor. (Don't ask questions you don't want to find out the answers to)

"It's not just that," Conrad murmured, "There's a lot of stuff that doesn't add up. You don't have a haunt, you're not trying to close any wounds, you won't -- "

The ghost growled, and along with it came the certainty that, somewhere under the veneer of shadows it wore, its teeth were baring in a snarl. (Stop it) it demanded, but Conrad saw the desperation in it, which meant he was right.

"You don't have a story," he said, which was perhaps the most glaring flaw of all. Every ghost had a widely-accepted story behind it -- although the accuracy of any given one was up for debate -- but the Phantom had none, at least none that had gotten around yet. Aside from a scattering of sightings, the Phantom of Amity Park was little more than a rumor.

Or, rather, it had been until now.

"Phantom," said Sam, knowing it was going to be asked regardless, and deciding that she could at least apply some tact to the question, "You do have a story, don't you? Or at least a name?"

(Yes) said the phantom, but it was through a strained hiss of static. The stringing wisps of fog at its sides made its hands seem long and angular, almost too much so; the distortion would not leave its voice now, no matter the manner in which it spoke. (I don't want to do this. I don't want to be here. If you won't let me go. . . )

"You won't hurt us," said Felicity, but the hesitation that followed was damning. Still, she held her ground. "You can't. The summoning ritual's got a binding element woven in. You can't harm us unless we tell you to."

(No?) said the ghost, its hands seeming sharper now, almost clawed. It was bluffing -- surely, it was bluffing, it had to be. But if not. . . (You're sure? Don't you remember how many other rules I've broken?)

"I'm sure," said Felicity, knowing that it was too late to back down. "And until we release you, you can't disobey us."

"Don't test him like that," Nathaniel whispered, the first thing he'd said since the clock had struck twelve. Felicity looked over at him: his face was pale and waxy-looking, his hands trembling in place although he refused to take them off the chalk circle. He was taking deliberate deep breaths, trying to keep himself calm; it seemed to be only half working. "Don't test him, don't piss him off, what if we did what he wants, what if we let him go?"

"What, and watch him bite our heads off? If we release him now, he can do whatever the hell he wants, remember? Shit." Felicity frowned, eyes darting from one side of the room to the other thinking to piece together a solution. If she'd have thought further ahead, this scenario might have seemed worth considering -- but she'd convinced herself, and subsequently the others, that the phantom was harmless, probably a lesser spirit. An odd one, sure, but ultimately benign. . .

"Wait a sec, wait a sec," Sam shifted up a little, repositioning her knees under her. The static at her fingertips was fading slowly to numbness; she wondered if the phantom could hear her heartbeat racing. Probably. Still, she forced herself to hold its irradiated gaze. "Phantom: if we release you now, you won't hurt us. Right? Or do we have to command it?"

The phantom loomed over her, its head tilting back and forth, considering her. It floated down, tucking up its feet to remain airborne, until they were almost level. Behind the shadows, its arms were thin and gangling; the fingers it reached out were decorated with faint lichtenburg arcs yet made of nothing at all. (I won't hurt you. I promise) it whispered, and the hand closed, offering only the suggestion of its little finger.

It did not even cross Sam's mind that the move could be in deceit, tricking her into taking one hand off the chalk in order to give it her little finger in return. The gesture was fully automatic: by the time she even realized that she'd done it, her hand was shrouded in the mist that fed the ghost's form and the only sensation she could process was a buzzing hum like a battery's charge. There was no solid, tangible hand for her to touch -- but there was no question that the pinky swear had been completed.

And slowly, the distorted static hiss began to fade. The ring of ghostfire went out in a choked puff! of grey smoke. The ghost enveloped itself in shadow, dispelling a moment later like the twist of the tuner dispels the voice on the radio. The flickering of the candles subsided, stilling the dancing shadows on the walls.

Just like that, the ghost was gone.

"Sam?" Felicity whispered, "What did it tell you? Just now?"

Sam looked over, still buzzing. "You didn't hear it?" Felicity shook her head: Sam considered, but only briefly. Then she sat back, making a decent effort at a casual shrug.

"He said to leave him alone, or else."

- - - -

It was almost twelve-thirty when Danny got home. It wasn't far, and he sailed over late-night rooftops and lawns without even noticing the cold, drifting in through his bedroom window and landing in a pool of silvery moonlight splayed across his bed. He floated there, comprised of invisible shadow, and tried to get the unease out of his mind.

He'd been summoned?

Since when could anybody do that?

He should have been more careful. He knew by now that matters of death weren't terribly forgiving; the learning curve was steep and offered few second chances. Every time he was beginning to think he'd gained decent control over his abilities, something like this would come up and smack him in the face.

Two months, he'd been dead -- when were things supposed to get easier? They were, eventually, right?

Danny took a deep breath, hating how it felt, and hating that he hated it, and wrenched himself back to life. The sudden, jarring kickstart of his heart, the spark of warmth that was so alien to his ghost form -- even the everpresent facts of life surprised him, after their absence. That was the ghost's doing, too, no doubt. He was sure that he'd never get used to that thing, not completely.

Or at least he'd never trust it.

But he had to find out everything about it in order to get better control. And now, apparently, he was gaining a little more notice from the living in Amity Park, enough at least for Sam and her goth friends to (somehow? he wasn't sure on the how) conjure him point-blank in her house. And if she could do it -- who else could?

He should count himself lucky that the crash-course came like this, he supposed. In a familiar place, by his best friend (although accompanied by the once-removed crowd, names and drama which he generally only heard during lunch-hour gripes), with no solidly ill intent -- that was just about as easy as it got, wasn't it?

But that wasn't what sat ill with him. One of Sam's friends -- the long-haired one -- had told him outright: the rules of the spell dictated that he couldn't hurt them. He hadn't wanted to do that, only scare them a little if it made them leave him alone, but he didn't like that she was right.

He'd tried to defy them outright, finding that he just. . . couldn't. Was that yet-another thing he had to learn how to do? Worse: was that something he would be saddled with if someone ever did another one of those rituals? Someone worse, someone who could order him to hurt somebody or. . .

Danny didn't want to think of it.

What if he asked Sam about it, then? Over lunch or a movie or something, maybe, once he had a straightened-out line of questions to pursue, and so long as he could be sure that she couldn't guess it had to do with that Phantom business. Now in his room, under less stress and thinking a little better, he supposed he should have handled the ordeal more gently.

But, jesus, being grilled about his own ghostly details was bad enough -- being constricted to the truth, on top of that? He may as well tell the whole damn town about it.

What if he did tell Sam, though? Just her -- well, her and Tuck. If she knew a bonafide ghost summoning ritual, or had friends that did, then she must also know a decent amount that could help him, or at least give him a little bit of a break?

No, he'd decided weeks ago that he couldn't do that. If he told her and Tuck, he'd have to tell Jazz, he'd have to tell his parents -- and that was where the real problems would crop up. How was he supposed to explain being dead, but not really, only sometimes, usually when he wanted to but also still by accident, when he didn't even begin to understand it himself?

No, he couldn't tell them, or Jazz. . . or Sam and Tuck.

Even though he was having a hell of a time on his own.

He hadn't meant to slip up, really he hadn't. Static distortion was, as far as he was concerned, an entirely involuntary function, alongside the chill that even followed him into human form if it decided he wasn't having a terrible enough day. He was trying his damnedest. . .

. . . but he'd scared each and every one of them just by being there. Even before any of them had begun to pry, they'd been afraid of him. There was no hiding it in the way they looked at him (which went double for the rail-thin one, who looked like he'd been trying not to cry the entire time), no disguising the way they flinched just a little every time he spoke.

But, the ghost had delighted in it. Scare them as much as you want, it whispered, it's good for 'em.

And Danny, scrambling to keep himself together, had let it.

He wanted to apologize to Sam. He owed her one, even though she wouldn't have the faintest clue where it was coming from. He thought, somewhat sardonically, that she wouldn't even bat an eye; she teased him sometimes that his knee-jerk reaction was sorry, so she wouldn't think twice about another one that came out of the blue.

But still.

He reached over, pulling open the drawer in his bedside table where he kept his phone. By now, it was almost one in the morning. Thank fuck for weekends, otherwise school would have been shaping up to be a proper pain in the ass.

There was a text waiting for him: from Sam, fifteen minutes ago.

He swiped it open: can we hit nb tomorrow ? no tuck. smth went down tonight

Danny stared down at it, in fierce conflict with himself. He thought of the inevitable disbelief, of having to prove it to her in secret; he thought of having to tell Tuck, because it wouldn't be fair to him otherwise; he thought of the past two hellish months, and of every month after being just as hellish; he thought of what would happen if he solidly, irreversibly lost a fight; he thought of being dragged into another summoning circle, helmed by someone he'd never heard of but who had heard of him; he thought of what his mother would say when she found out her own son had died right under her nose. He thought of what he'd have to say when Sam told him what had happened. He thought of sitting there, pretending that he hadn't witnessed it firsthand, nodding along while she lied about how scared she'd been.

Was this really suppsed to be better?

But indecision would get him nowhere. The longer he sat there, exuding a cold, hollow mist without even realizing it, the more his internal conflict receded. The last of it swept out like the tide, leaving him not with certainty or sureness -- but at least leaving him with a course of action.

The phone in his hand had gone dark. He swiped it open again, took a deep breath, knowing that, one way or another, this was going to turn everything on its head. He texted Sam back, his thumb hesitating for a moment before finally hitting send:

i know. ill see u at nb 🤙

#danny phantom #fanfic #holiday truce #holiday truce 2022

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hongchicken · 2 years ago

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How to make your own natural home cleaning products

Introduction

It is no secret that the chemicals used in commercial cleaning products can be quite harmful to both the environment and our health. But don’t worry - it is possible to make your own natural home cleaning products that are just as effective and don’t contain any hazardous materials. If you’re interested in learning how to make your own natural home cleaning products, this blog post is for you! We’ll go over the basics of what you need to know in order to get started and provide some recipes for natural home cleaning products that are easy to make and use.

Benefits of Natural Home Cleaning Products

There are several benefits to making your own natural home cleaning products. Not only do natural cleaning products contain fewer harsh chemicals than their commercial counterparts, but they can also be more effective at cleaning and deodorizing surfaces. Additionally, natural home cleaning products tend to be more affordable than their store-bought counterparts, and can be more easily customized to your specific needs.

What You Need to Know

Before you get started making your own natural cleaning products, there are a few things that you should know. Firstly, it is important to understand which ingredients are most effective in cleaning and deodorizing surfaces. Some of the most popular natural cleaning ingredients include vinegar, baking soda, lemons, and essential oils.

It is also important to understand the basics of proper cleaning techniques. For example, it is important to use the right amount of product for the job and to use the correct cleaning tools and materials. Additionally, it is important to know the safety measures that should be taken when using any cleaning product, including natural ones.

Recipes

Now that you know the basics of what you need to know in order to make your own natural home cleaning products, let’s get to the recipes! Here are a few easy and effective recipes for natural home cleaning products that you can make at home.

All-Purpose Cleaner

This all-purpose cleaner is great for cleaning and deodorizing any surface.

Ingredients:

1 cup white vinegar

1 cup water

1 teaspoon baking soda

10 drops of tea tree oil

Instructions:

In a spray bottle, combine the vinegar, water, and baking soda.

Shake the bottle to mix the ingredients.

Add the tea tree oil, then shake the bottle again to mix.

Spray the mixture onto the surface that you want to clean, then wipe with a clean cloth.

Tub and Tile Cleaner

This tub and tile cleaner is perfect for removing soap scum and mildew.

Ingredients:

1/4 cup baking soda

1/4 cup hydrogen peroxide

2 tablespoons liquid dish soap

10 drops of essential oil (optional)

Instructions:

In a bowl, combine the baking soda, hydrogen peroxide, and liquid dish soap.

Mix the ingredients until a paste forms.

If desired, add the essential oil and mix again.

Apply the paste to the surface that you want to clean, then scrub with a sponge or brush.

Rinse with warm water and wipe clean with a cloth.

Window Cleaner

This window cleaner is perfect for cleaning windows and mirrors.

Ingredients:

1/4 cup white vinegar

2 tablespoons rubbing alcohol

2 cups water

10 drops of lemon essential oil (optional)

Instructions:

In a spray bottle, combine the vinegar, rubbing alcohol, and water.

Shake the bottle to mix the ingredients.

If desired, add the lemon essential oil and shake the bottle again to mix.

Spray the mixture onto the window or mirror, then wipe with a clean cloth.

Conclusion

Making your own natural home cleaning products is a great way to save money and stay green. With the right ingredients and knowledge, you can make your own natural cleaning products that are just as effective as their store-bought counterparts. We hope this blog post has given you some insight into the basics of natural home cleaning products and provided you with some easy recipes to get started. Happy cleaning!

#NaturalHomeCleaningProducts #BenefitsOfNaturalCleaning #DIYNaturalCleaningProducts #NaturalCleaningIngredients #MakingYourOwnCleaningProducts #CleaningTipsAndTricks #AllPurposeCleaner #TubAndTileCleaner #WindowCleaner #StayGreenAndSaveMoney

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athenacaralis · 3 years ago

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Ceramics Understanding

Korean Pottery

Korea’s culture is surrounded around pottery. It originated in the Three Kingdoms period, and as the different Dynasties developed, so did new pottery techniques. In the Goryeo Dynasty, the Inlaid Celadon technique, which is made by engraving pictures on the surface and rubbing white and black clay on top of the engravings, became so popular that is was produced worldwide. During the Joseon Dynasty, white porcelain and grayish blue powdered celadon thrived. White porcelain with blue artwork grew, and represented the style and elegance of Joseon white porcelain by the warmth of the color and softness of the shapes. By Modern times, Korean porcelain started to get used in its original purpose, for storing food and dinnerware.

A simple analogy for understanding the structure of glaze

In order to use glaze and manipulate it, one first should know what it’s made of. Silica and soda ash, for example, can make glaze. To make the glaze, silica has to be melted. Three things are needed to melt the glaze: 1.Glass Former 2.Flux 3.Refractory. The glass former is what's being melted. The flux makes the glass melt more. The refractory is a stabilizer, that makes it stop running off the pot. An analogy that can be used is a car. The glass former is the car, the flux is the gas pedal, and the refractory is the break. You can control the flux and refractory to make the glaze melt at any temperature.

Basics of Ceramics

Types of clay: Earthenware(Low fired), Stoneware(Mid fired), Porcelain(High fired)

Stages of clay: Greenware: Plastic(soft and malleable), Leather(shape it and bend it), Leather Hard(trim and carve), Bone Dry(buff and sand)

Stages of clay: Slip(paste form)

Kiln Firing: Bisque Firing and Glaze Firing

Clay Storage:

Store clay in a damp and air tight container

Store clay in a damp box filled a quarter of the way with plaster that has been saturated with water

Reclaiming:

Place bone dry clay in a wet towel and into a ziplock bag

Turn bone dry into slip first

Wedging clay - Releases air bubbles

Workspace - Work on unpolished wood so clay doesn't stick

Clay Tools:

Rolling Pin & Guides (helps maintain an even thickness)

Wooden Paddle (manipulate the shape by patting)

Potter’s Knives (cuts the clay)

Ribbon Tools (carves)

Scoring Tools (Scores before applying slip to attach)

Pin Tool and Shaping Tools (For details)

Basic Clay Wooden Tool (Smoothes edges and engraves)

Soft Brushes (Apply slip or smooth joints)

Ribs (Smoothes texture and compress clay slabs)

Jar of Slip

Rugs and Hand Towels

Sponge (helps smooth)

Bucket and Spray Tools (cleanup and rehydrate)

Scraping Tool and Cleaning Brush (cleans surface)

Banding Wheel

Plywood Boards

Plaster Molds

Texture Tools

Clay Disposal - Let clay settle at the bottom of the bucket overnight to separate it. Pour out the clean water, then throw out the clay into a bucket. Wash hands over a bucket for clay.

What I Learned

I learned how clay is stored so that it doesn't dry out, and if it does, ways you can restore its moisture so that it can be used. I also learned of the many clay tools that exist which I didn't know about, and want to try out.

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my-darling-boy · 5 years ago

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Sorry if it's a weird question to ask -- but have you had troubles with acne when only getting on T? Because I went through your blog a big and your skin always look amazing n smooth ;; (And as a person who've never had big troubles with those even while puberty, this side effect kinda bothers me) And if you did have troubles with them, - how did you deal with it?

I’ve always had bad problems with acne, before T, and then while on it, which was twice as hard to tame cos of combination skin. I still have acne in photos, the colour with certain filters on makes them look like extra freckles and some filters just make me into a Poreless Doll. I’ve experimented a lot with my own skin to see what products work and which ones don’t, and so far I’ve found for me:

• Every night I use Neutrogena oil-free acne wash which kicks acne’s ass but dries out your skin so I use

•Simple (brand) moisturising lotion which is lightweight enough where it won’t clog my pores but is thick enough to actually do something, best brand I’ve used. A little goes a long way

•I have an Olay spin brush I use once a week for exfoliation which is also really helpful to shed all the dead/dry skin that happens after using the face wash. I sometimes get my hands on an oil free exfoliating mask from Lush when I can

•Mario Badescu rose water facial spray was, weirdly enough, essential in clearing up the psoriasis that would otherwise cause the skin over my nose and cheekbones to be incredibly red and painful. If you have acne prone skin or prone to inflammation, rose and aloe are REALLY helpful as they’re anti inflammatory and rose helps shed dead skin cells

•I take a vitamin 1-2 times daily which contains biotin and it helped improve the look of my skin

•I make sure I regularly change pillow cases, wash sheets and blankets, towels, wash my neck after wearing collared shirts. This is a HUGE one. As someone who regularly wears white collared shirts and has white bed sheets, you don’t even want to know what kind of sweat and dirt can gather on your clothes and bed just after one week, especially after going on T and you sweat like no one’s business

•I don’t touch my face if I’ve been touching something oilly (like butter from baking) or something dirty while gardening. Wash around your mouth/chin really well if you’ve eaten something oilly. Touching your face is fine, we all do it. The difference is that you don’t touch your face after you just stuck your hand in a dirty fish tank or after rubbing your hands all over a grimy car engine

•Shower. I literally shower every other day. Sweat is probably the #1 cause of all excess acne in relation to hormones in my case. Additionally if you use a sponge to shower, changing it every 1-2 months can help stop break outs as an old sponge can also harbour bacteria and other stuff that will cause an acne flare up

•If you bind, make sure to wash that binder, because it is a sweat trap

•Salt baths are great for detoxing the skin and clearing up body acne, which I got on my chest and shoulders from T (and binding). I do one weekly when I can

•I’m personally against aftershave, even alcohol free aftershave. The alcohol alone in the aftershave is really damaging to skin especially if you’re acne prone or have dry/sensitive skin and there has not been one aftershave that has not made me breakout. I just use cold water after I shave, use regular lotion. I don’t wash my face with the face wash either that day as to not pile on product onto my already sensitive face

•If you shave, don’t shave incredibly fast. Don’t use any more than a 3 bladed razor; those Mach 5, Mach 6 ones you see can cause skin irritation/inflammation from dragging 6 blades across your skin instead of 1-3. Change your razor once the little guard on it stars to get dry looking. Using your razor too many times can cause you to break out by reintroducing those dead skin cells back onto your skin and whatever else settled on the razor while it sat on your counter. Additionally, don’t alter between an electric shaver and a standard razor: your skin and acne will not be happy with you. Shave carefully over acne

All of this being said, acne is a normal part of life, on testosterone or not. As long as you’re showering and keeping up on basic hygiene, you don’t need to worry about buying a spin brush or Lush masks and vitamins if you don’t want to. I just happen to do those things cos I made the decision to.

Take care!

#trans health #asks

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lovemesomesurveys · 4 years ago

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1. What is your favorite shade of blue? Pastel blue, teal, Tiffany blue, baby blue, powder blue, sky blue, turquoise. 2. When's the last time you bought something just because? I bought some room sprays and hand sanitizers from this place that makes Disneyland/World scented things because I was missing Disney and wanted to bring some of it to my house. 3. What Ozzy lyric describes you best? I only know Crazy Train and I mean, I do feel like I’m on a crazy train. 4. When was the last time you went for a walk without a specific destination in mind? I don’t do that. 5. Do you daydream? Yeah. My mind wanders and I zone out a lot.

6. What was your last daydream about? Random stuff. 7. Ever won the lottery? No, I wish. 8. How much did you get for your high school graduation? I think around $300 and my parents my threw me a nice graduation party. 9. What was the most important decision you made that screwed up your life the most? Not taking care of/putting off some things and neglecting myself. 10. Do you know what your Chinese horoscope is? Nope. 11. What is love really about? Encouragement, support, growth. 12. What's the most you ever made in a year? I’ve never had a job. 13. Do you have an online diary? You’re lookin’ at it. 14. What's the biggest pot you've won in poker? I’ve never played poker. 15. What's your most prized possession? I love all my things. 16. What Metallica lyric most describes your life? I don’t listen to Metallica. 17. Ever been to Ozzfest? No. I take it you’re an Ozzy fan. 18. How many concerts have you been to? I think I’ve been to 7. 19. Which one was your favorite? All of them were fun, but the Jonas Brothers concerts and the Green Day concert were my favorites. 20. What shade of purple most describes your feelings right now? I don’t know. 21. Pick a shade of a color. Now describe it to me and name it. Nah. 22. Sun tea or brewed tea? My mom used to make sun tea during the summers growing up, which I liked. I haven’t had that since then. Nowadays I just throw a tea bag in a cup of hot water and let it steep for a few minutes. 23. What's the most illegal thing you've done? I haven’t done anything serious. 24. Ever get busted by the cops? What for? No. 25. What's under your bed? Nothing. 26. Vacuum or dustbuster? Vacuum. 27. How many people are on your buddy list? Aw, the days of AIM. 28. How many pairs of rollerblades do/did you own? I’ve never owned a pair of rollerblades. 29. Ever wear out a CD? What was it? No. 30. What's your favorite card game? I like card games like Uno, Apples to Apples, and Cards Against Humanity. 31. Who was the most annoying person you've talked to on the phone? I’m not a fan of talking on the phone in general. 32. What's your favorite fast food meal? Wingstop’s boneless garlic parm and lemon pepper wings with their ranch and a a side of lemon pepper sauce. 33. Where is the best restaurant you've ever eaten in at? This Mongolian BBQ place was my favorite back when I could eat spicy food. 34. Lamb chops or pork chops? Neither. 35. How many roses have you received/given? I’ve never received or given roses. 36. When's the last time you mowed the lawn? Never. 37. Washed your car? I’ve never had a car since I don’t drive. I have participated in several car wash fundraising events for Girl Scouts and the psych club I was in in community college, though. 38. Ever have a tornado in your town? No, thankfully we don’t get tornadoes. --- 40. What state is your wardrobe in? Uh, it’s fine? 41. What's the last article of clothing you bought? A cute Valentine’s Day themed Baby Yoda shirt from Boxlunch. 42. How many trash cans can you see right now? One. 43. If you HAD to pick ONE song to listen to for the rest of your life, and that would be the only song you ever heard, what would it be? Ah, I don’t know. 44. Ever heard of Shinedown? Yeah. 45. They rock, don't they? I only know one of their songs and I don’t really care for it much. 46. What size is your bed? It’s a full. 47. When's the last time you had pigs in a blanket? I have no idea. It’s been several years. I don’t particularly care for those. 48. Have you ever painted the ceilings in your home? No. We haven’t painted anywhere in this house. 49. What does your lawn furniture consist of? We just have a bench in the backyard. 50. Ever live off of canned soup and ramen noodles for weeks at a time? I do have my nightly bowl of ramen, but it’s not the only thing I eat. 51. What flavor of jelly are you? *shrug* 52. Ever take any of those online personality quizzes? I’ve taken several. 53. What musical group/artist do you love, but hide from other people? I don’t hide any of the musical artists or bands that I’m into. 54. What's on the floor in your bedroom? Nothing. 55. What is the first meal you remember eating? Pfft, I have no idea. 56. Ever been to a drive in? Yeah, a few times. I wish those would make a big comeback. 57. What was the first movie you ever saw? I don’t remember. 56. What's in your keepsake box/scrapbook? I don’t have like a designated box and I don’t have a scrapbook, but I’ve kept a lot of things throughout my life and a ton of photos all stored away in various places. 57. Describe your first date. It was dinner and a movie. 58. Would you recognize most of your classmates 5 years after graduation? Not from my college graduations. 59. What percentile of your class were you in? I have no idea. 60. When was the last time it rained while the sun was shining? I don’t recall. 61. What did you score on your SATs? I never took the SATs. 62. When was the last time you saw a rainbow? It’s been several years. 63. Name your favorite artist/song from before 1990. I have many favorites. 64. Do you think there should be new genres of music to encompass some of the newer rock performers out now? I don’t know, man. 65. What colors is your lava lamp? I don’t have a lava lamp. I did have one as a kid, though. I think it was blue. 66. What's the strangest thing you've ever hung on the wall? I haven’t hung up anything strange. 67. When's the last time you did laundry? My laundry was done a few days ago. 68. How many hammers do you own? I don’t personally have any hammers, but my dad does. I could use one of his if I needed to. 69. Can you name every place you've ever had sex? Yeah, nowhere. 70. How many speakers are in your bedroom? My laptop, TV, iPhone, and my Nintendo Switch. 71. DVD or VHS? I just watch movies through a streaming service. 72. What's the most important thing you ever lost and never found again? Myself? Lost her a few years ago...still haven’t found her. 73. What forms of birth control have you used? Abstinence (I’m a virgin). 74. How many webpages have you created, and can you still find them all? I’ve made a few back in the day, but no I don’t remember any of them. 75. You have .30 in two coins. One of them is not a nickel. What are they? One of them is not a nickel, but the other one is. 76. What's your pet peeve when cleaning the house? I don’t enjoy cleaning in general. 77. Do you use sponges or dishcloths when doing the dishes? We use a dish washing brush. 78. How many people are in your family portrait? Four. 79. How many times have you moved? A few, but only once that I’m old enough to remember. 80. Handcuffs or rope :D? Neither. 81. What season best describes your temperament? Whatever one best goes along with irritability and moodiness. 82. What's the last thing you had to drink? Starbucks Doubleshot energy drink. 83. Ever been so drunk you blacked out? No, but parts of my memory from one night when I got too drunk are spotty. 84. What's your favorite song on the top twenty right now? I don’t even know what the top 20 is right now. I haven’t been listening to music. 85. What do your light fixtures look like? I have a ceiling lamp and a floor lamp. 86. How many jobs have you held for more than a month? I haven’t had a job. 87. Ever punched a wall? No. 88. When's the last time you really lost your temper? It’s been a long time. 89. How do you cope? Good question. 90. What's your antidrug? My go-to distractions ASMR, watching YouTube videos, scrolling through Tumblr, checking my social medias, doing surveys, reading, watching TV, coloring, sleeping... 91. Ever grown any plants before? What were they? Nope. 92. Ever own a director chair? No. 93. When was the last time you camped out? Never. I have no interest in camping. 94. Went swimming? It’s been like 7 years now since I last went swimming. 95. Went fishing? I’ve only done it once and very briefly. 96. Oust or Glade and why? Glade. 97. Ever thought you (or a girlfriend) were pregnant, but it was a false alarm? Nope. 98. If 97 is yes, were you glad or sad? -- 99. Do you have a red-eye mouse or one with a ball? I don’t have a mouse, I use the trackpad on my laptop. 100. What do your doorstops look like? Uhh those springy ones. I don’t know how else to describe it. The ones that make a lot of noise if you accidentally bump into it. 101. What was the last conversation you had with someone before they died? I was by my grandpa’s side when he died and I was just telling him how much I loved him, thanked him for everything, and comforted him; letting him know it was okay to go. 102. What do your drinking glasses look like? We have various glasses and mugs. 103. How many bottles/containers are in your medicine cabinet? We don’t have a medicine cabinet, but we have a medicine drawer full of various medications. 104. How many funerals have you been to? Three. 105. How many states have you been to? Five, including my own.

106. What was the last bug you killed and what did you use? A gnat. I just swatted it. 107. What does your country need right now? Unity. 108. Are you creative? I wish I was. I don’t have any creativity, artistic abilities, or good ideas. 109. How so? -- 110. How many computers in your household? Two. 111. Ever help to solve a crime? No. 112. Who is in the picture frame on your bedside table? I don’t have any photos on my bedside table. 113. How many CDs does your player hold? I don’t have a CD player. I haven’t had one in many years. 114. What is one thing you'd like to do before you die? Get my shit together and do something with my life. 115. Do the good die young or do they die before they have a chance to be bad? That seems to imply that everyone ends up bad. 116. What's your favorite totally cliche' saying? Blah. 117. Ever go out of your way to exact revenge on someone? No. I’m not a vengeful person. 118. Was it worth it? I don’t think it would ever be worth it. 119. Ever get pulled over by the cops and get away without a ticket? I don’t even drive, so no. 120. What's the weather like right now? It’s currently 50F. 121. What was your first legal alcoholic drink? Tequila shots. 122. Do you have a door/doorknob to your room? Yes. 123. Name one thing you regret? I have a few regrets. :/ 124. Ever get published by one of those poetry groups? No. I don’t even write poetry. 125. What's the furthest distance you've moved? Across town. 126. How many friends from high school/college do you still talk to? None anymore... 127. Where is your home/heart right now? Right here. 128. What's the most expensive things your parents ever bought you? Many things throughout my life and even still. 129. What's the most expensive thing you've bought? My first MacBook back in 2009. 130. How many hangers are in your closet? Uh, a lot. I’m not counting. 131. If you died right now, would you feel cheated or happy? I haven’t accomplished anything. :/ 132. How many times did you intentionally start to commit suicide? Zero. 133. Ever spent the night in the "loony bin?" Don’t call it that, first of all, and no. 134. What's wrong with society? Ignorance, close-mindedness, greed, hate, violence... 135. How many crazy ice cream trucks are in your area? Uh, I’ve never considered any of them to be crazy. Anyway, lately there’s been an ice cream truck coming through my neighborhood, which is is the first in many years. What a random time, though. 136. What is your favorite cover song? I love the cover of George Michael’s, Fast Love, that Adele performed at an award show after he died in honor of him. I always describe it as hauntingly beautiful. It was just so good. I wish she would have released a studio version of it. 137. Does the weather ever seem to reflect your mood eerily? I’m always moody, so when it’s rainy and gloomy it does. 138. Are you more psychic than most people? I don’t believe in psychic abilities. 139. What's your inspiration? I don’t know. :/ 140. What's the longest relationship you've been in? Whatever it was Joseph and I had lasted 3 years, which is longer than technically the only relationship I had that lasted just a few months. What I had with Joseph felt more like one as well in a lot of ways. 141. Did you ever drop out of school? No. 142. Ever raise a child that wasn't your own for more than 3 months? No. 143. What is your favorite piece of jewelry? Probably the stuff I have with birthstone. 144. Ever help someone cheat on someone else? Absolutely not. 145. Are you a cheater too? No. 146. What was the last dessert type food you've eaten? I had some mini funfetti muffins yesterday. 147. Fill in the blank: I'm a ________aholic. Coffeeholic. 148. When's the last time you went to a hairdresser/salon? Last February. I’ve over a year due now. 149. Strangest medical procedure ever performed on you? I had to wear this thing called a halo, which is a weird thing that gets drilled into the front of your head (I have two tiny circular scars above each eyebrow from that) and on the back are some weights attached to it that hang down. It was put on after my spinal fusion surgery and is meant to keep your back straight and things in place. It was awful. And heavy. When it was removed I had to wear a neck brace for a bit because my neck was weak. 150. Do you own any appliances? Yeah, we have several appliances. 151. Do you have an "egg crate" on your bed? Yes. 153. Last time you went to the laundromat? I remember tagging along as a kid with my grandma before. 154. How many hinges are on your front door? I’m not sure. 155. Can I be done yet? Yeah, I think you’re good.

#personal #text #survey #surveys #long survey

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beautyandmakeupfortravel · 5 years ago

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Beauty Tips You've Never Heard

Your morning beauty regime takes you exactly 12 minutes. First comes the face wash, then the astringent, followed by the moisturizer. And the list goes on. It's become such a chore, but wasn't there a time when this routine was fun? Well, we decided to take you back to the days when applying makeup was a treat by giving you some innovative beauty tips and tricks to spice up your routine.

To get this insider information, we contacted Carmindy, resident make-up artist on TLC's "What Not to Wear," and author of The 5 Minute Face. Here are her 10 beauty tips to leave you feeling fresh and fabulous.

Beauty Tip # 1 - Make perfume last.

A few spritzes of perfume in the morning will not carry you through the day, no matter how expensive your bottle may be. To make your scent last, try this beauty tip: put an unscented moisturizer on first and then spray on your perfume a few seconds later. "There's so much alcohol in perfume," Carmindy explains, "that if you spray it on dry skin, a lot of times it evaporates so quickly. But if you have moisturizer on your skin it adheres much better."

Beauty Tip # 2 - Lip gloss without the goop.

Instead of directly putting the tube of gloss to your lips, Carmindy recommends adding an extra step to ensure less stickiness. "I like to put lip gloss on my fingertips first and then just pat it onto the flesh of my lips. And this way you'll get a little bit of glow, but it won't be too goopy." Also, try a moisturizing lipstick or a lip stain first before you add the gloss to make sure the color stays put.

Beauty Tip # 3 - A sweet scrub.

"The best exfoliate in the world is regular white table sugar." If every scrub out there contains some form of sugar, like "Almond Sugar Scrub" or "Brown Sugar Scrub," why not just use what's in your kitchen cupboard? "What happens is that the small crystals dissipate in water so they don't tear your skin." And, if you have sensitive skin, don't fret. "It even works better because with other products you might not like a fragrance or a lot of ingredients," states Carmindy. When you're in the shower, all you have to do is lather your face up like normal and then get a handful of sugar and scrub your face. And if you run out you'll be able to ask your cute neighbor for a spot of sugar!

Beauty Tip # 4 Ditch your spot concealer.

Instead of fumbling around your makeup bag for multiple concealers in the morning, just stick to one, advises Carmindy. The reason why? Because you can actually use the foundation stuck to the top of the cap of your liquid all-over concealer as your spot-treatment. "It oxidizes there so it becomes a little bit thicker." Plus, she says, "It's the same shade as your foundation, so it will instantly erase your blemish." To apply, just take a small tip concealer brush and dip into the cap of your foundation, or the nozzle if you use a spray. Then brush it on the spots and you're ready to go. Now it will be a good thing when your foundation lid gets cakey.

Beauty Tip # 5 - Recycle: Good for the earth, good for your lips.

What are you supposed to do when your four best lipsticks are almost gone and your finger is tired from scraping out the remnants below? Carmindy suggests combining the half-used sticks into your own lip pallet. "Go to the drug store and purchase a plastic pill box and dig out the lipstick that's left in the tubes. Then put each color into a different little section of the pill box." You can mix and match the colors or even put Vaseline in one of the sections to make your own lip gloss.

Beauty Tip # 6 Celebrity-size lips.

To get fuller lips people often outline them with a pencil, but most of the time it looks noticeable and unsophisticated (especially when the lipstick comes off and you're left with just that awful line). To get invisible enhancement, Carmindy recommends you take a Q-tip and dip it in a little bit of white shimmer eye shadow and lightly trace the outside of your lips. "What will happen is that the shimmer will capture the light and make your lips seem larger." You won't be able to see it, but the slight glimmer will do the trick. Great if you don't have any collagen handy.

Beauty Tip # 7 - Bronzed but not dirty.

Dusting bronzer all over your face can make you look like you've been rolling around in the sand box all day or have picked up a part time job as a chimney sweep. Carmindy prefers a spray bronzer to get the appearance of a fresh summer tan. "I like to spray a sponge and then what I do is just push it onto the skin--on the temples and then right underneath the cheekbones because this is kind of where the sun would kiss your face. And if you like powder bronzer you can apply it in the same places too."

Beauty Tip # 8 - Brow breakthrough.

If you've been awarded barely there eyebrow DNA, you've probably tried everything to make them visible--and figured out that most of the time these products end up rubbing off by the end of the day. If you still want eyebrows at five p.m., Carmindy advises buying waterproof liquid eyeliner that matches your hair color like black, brown or taupe. Then, she says, "You can take an angled brush and feather the liquid eyeliner on to your eyebrows and it will stay put all day long. It looks more natural than a pencil and stays longer." It's a win-win.

Now if you're like me and are on the opposite end of the brow spectrum you might need some help keeping your out-of-control brows in check. To do this, "Take a spooly brush or an old tooth brush, put a little hair gel on there and just brush it onto your eyebrows to have them stay put."

Beauty Tip # 9 - Not your average smoky eye.

"What I like to do is take a color like a navy blue or a sparkling kind of burgundy purple and just line the inside rim and right along the upper and lower lash line and then smudge it with a Q-tip. That way, there's no eye shadow pushing the eye back, but you still have the smoky effect because they're lined with color. If you have deep-set eyes, Carmindy advises you to avoid putting dark shadow on your eyelids because it will make them seem even more pushed back. "There are so many ways to do a smoky eye, but people always think there's only one way to do it."

Beauty Tip # 10 - Save time and eye shadow

Running late in the morning? The best thing you can put on is white shimmering highlight powder. "If you highlight three key places you set of the planes of your face--you don't even need eye shadow," says Carmindy. These key spots are underneath the eyebrow, on the inside corner of the eye and on top of the cheekbone. "It brings sparkle to the eye; it lifts up the lid and draws attention to the top of the cheekbone." Now all you need is a big cup of coffee to actually feel as awake as you look.

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hoodoo12 · 5 years ago

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Familial Ties (And How To Break Them) 13/14

NSFW! ~

They were much more conspicuous strolling through the lobby coated in filth than they had been when they first arrived, even with Beetlejuice's striped suit and green hair. When the elevator doors opened and the two of them shuffled inside, none of the others waiting to go up stepped forward to join them. As the doors slid shut and the elevator began to ascend, Pate and Beetlejuice looked at one another for a long moment before she simply burst out laughing, unable to contain it anymore.

Nothing was particularly funny. She was sore and achy, scuffed and bruised, but still basking in the knowledge that they'd done what they set out to do. It was over and Beetlejuice was with her. She leaned into his side, her arm slipping around his waist.

"You saved me again," she said, smiling. "I'll have to come up with some way to reward you. That's how it always goes in the movies, right? Luke blew up the Death Star and then he got a medal?" Pate tipped her head back to meet his eyes, grinning. "I don't have a medal, but maybe I can think of something else?"

"Reward? Like cleaning out the mini bar and getting tickets to see Cher?" he asked innocently, but with raised eyebrows and a smirk.

Pate huffed a laugh through her nose, letting her head nod back against his chest and bringing up her other arm around his middle to give him a squeeze, humming contentedly.

“I feel like you’re joking, but in all seriousness, Beej, if that’s what you want, that’s what we’ll do.”

She felt his chuckle rumbling against her cheek. Pate stepped around in front of him to meet his eyes, a delicate fluttery warmth blossoming inside her at the look on his face; the confident, crooked grin, the half-lidded amber eyes with their long lashes, glittering with promise.

“You’ve taken such good care of me, Beej,” she said softly. “You’ve helped me, protected me, forgiven me, comforted me. You rode across the country with me and fought demons with me. I never could have done any of this without you. And really… you didn’t have to, not any of it. But you did anyway. So tonight, I wanna take care of you.”

As she spoke, her arms came from around him, her hands trailing from his back to his sides in tender caresses.

It wasn’t an exaggeration to say that her life had been completely transformed by his presence in it. He made her feel braver, stronger, like she could take on anything as long as he was with her. As strange and unusual and recent as their meeting had been, Pate honestly couldn’t imagine being without him now. She opened her mouth to say so, but the elevator stilled and chimed as it arrived at their floor, so instead she smiled at him again and took his wrist in both hands, backing into the hall and tugging him with her. It would be much more fun to show him instead.

“Let’s see about that shower first, and then we’ll go see Cher.”

He followed along with a goofy smile. It had been a long time since he'd been sincerely appreciated; he didn't think that Pate was lying about anything she just said, and that was almost enough to make the cold dead fist sized lump in his chest start beating again. He couldn't help but wince a little as she tugged him through the door of their room; she inadvertently gave him a little extra jerk and that made his shoulder flare in pain again, but he covered it by surging forward and planting a kiss on her mouth.

That contact made his libido kick his painful shoulder to the curb, for the moment.

"I'll have these clothes off us in a second, baby," he muttered against her lips.

Her fingers still interlocked with his, Pate reached through the open door to switch on the bathroom light, turning back around just in time to find him moving in to capture her lips with his. She let his momentum propel them both back through the doorway into the gleaming tiled bathroom, sighing deeply and angling her head, squeezing his hand with her own while the other pressed to his stomach, sliding up towards his chest.

When he broke away just enough to speak she opened her eyes and saw him raising his free hand, preparing to snap their clothing away. The hand on his chest darted out and clasped around his fingers. His head turned to look, first at their hands and then at her face, bemused. Pate smiled and shook her head simply.

"Uh-uh," she teased. "No magic snapping tonight. I'm taking care of you, remember?"

She pressed a few more soft kisses to his stubbly chin and his mouth, reaching up with both hands to loosen his tie before slipping it off over his head and depositing it on the counter beside her.

Mindful of his injured shoulder, she slid her hands up his chest, over his collarbones to shuck his jacket, letting it drop to the floor. She raised her eyes to his face, watching intently and nibbling on her bottom lip as she began undoing the buttons of his shirt. In between she paused, leaning in to favor each bit of newly revealed skin with a warm, wet kiss starting at the hollow of his throat and progressing slowly but steadily down his chest, stopping just above his naval and the waistband of his trousers.

She was serious about this 'taking care of' thing. He stood, mostly passively, as she worked knots and buttons loose and open, as she carefully exposed his skin. It ached to twist his shoulder out of his jacket sleeve; he could only imagine what fully removing his shirt was going to feel like.

"Not gonna just let me keep this shirt on till my shoulder's better? It could use a wash under the shower too--" he said, half-joking. She ignored his attempt at humor and he interrupted himself as she popped the buttons. "--oh! I guess this is nice too--"

For a second time he cut into his own sentence, but this time to groan as her mouth sucked gentle marks down his torso. He didn't know what to do with his hands, so he stood awkwardly with them half raised. When she made it just to the top of his trousers, he brushed her hair out of her face and held it messily in his fist. He urged her back up for a kiss.

"This is a fancy Las Vegas bathroom, baby, but the bed's pretty fancy too. Sure you don't just want to make housekeeping earn a big tip?"

Pate grinned against his soft stomach as he moaned, the deep sound vibrating through him and subsequently through her lips as she kissed her way downwards. She took note of the reluctant tone to his rapid-fire jabbering, humming appreciatively when she felt his hands sweeping her hair back and bunching it between his fists, tugging her back up and into his hungry mouth. Her hands traveled up with her, snaking up his sides, across his chest and over the piercings still concealed by his shirt before slipping up either side of his neck to the base of his skull. Her fingers delved into his hair, scratching lightly at the scalp while she slotted her mouth with his, shivering at the press of his cold lips and tongue probing at her warmth.

She huffed a breathless laugh at his suggestion.

“Well, this is Vegas, so I’m sure they’ve seen worse,” she quipped. “But I don’t know that I could cover the gratuity if we made too big of a mess.”

Her arms still draped around his neck, Pate continued dragging her nails through his hair, massaging his scalp as she smiled at him, leaning in to press a kiss to the tip of his nose.

“But tonight is for you. So you don’t have to do anything you don’t want to. I, however, am gonna hop in the shower.”

Taking a step away from him, Pate hoisted her shirt off and dropped it to the floor, keeping her eyes on his as she shimmied out of her probably ruined jeans and quickly divested herself of her underthings.

Tiptoeing around him to the open shower she turned on the water and stood with her back to him, waiting for it to warm to her liking before stepping under the spray, letting it sluice over her head and shoulders, tipping her head back under the water. Even with the bathroom door standing open the mirror began to fog. Pate hummed tunelessly as she squirted body wash onto her loofa, working it into a lather between her hands. She smiled as she dragged the sudsy sponge up her arms, feeling his eyes watching her.

She left him standing there mostly dressed with half a boner while she coyly stepped into the open shower. And now she was making a show of cleaning herself: the water spraying, suds, throwing her head back to expose her throat while pushing her wet hair back, accidently-on-purpose turning her back to him as she bent over to wash her legs . . .

That half boner evolved into a raging hard on seeing her there.

Fuck it.

She said she wanted to take care of him. Toeing off his shoes took another few moments, then Beetlejuice stepped into the shower, still mostly clothed, with her.

Pate was still humming to herself, in no particular hurry as she rinsed suds off her body just under the showerhead. She did wonder how long it would take him to crack, grinning privately. She had noticed that he showed . . . not trepidation about water or baths in general, more of a genuine disinterest. She supposed it was a demon thing.

Her small, secret smile widened into a full grin when she felt him move in behind her. His arms circled her middle, one hand raising to fondle her breast, his head dipping to press his open mouth to the curve of her naked shoulder. She could feel his erection through the clothes he hadn't bothered with taking off, sending a delighted shudder up her spine as she leaned back into him, reaching behind her with one hand and sliding her wet fingers up his neck and into his hair.

"Changed your mind?" she teased, wrapping her other arm around his.

"Mmmphff," he replied, through a mouthful of water that he'd gotten from kissing her facing the spray.

Less than a minute, and he was already mostly soaked. He shivered at her fingers dug into his hair, then moaned as she wiggled her ass against his groin. The water was surprisingly warm too; he'd forgotten how nice it was to have external warmth surrounding him. At that, he turned her she faced him and also that his back was to the spray, absorbing the majority of it. Then he hissed, having forgotten that water on the shoulder that'd been torn open wasn't going to feel great.

He shifted so that shoulder wasn't hit directly by the hard spray, and ignored that his shirt stuck unpleasantly to his back. He kissed Pate, keeping her held tightly to his front. Her skin felt slick under his hands, and they moved smoothly from the nape of her neck to the swell of her ass, giving it an appreciative squeeze.

Pate grimaced at the pained sound he made, shuffling accommodatingly with him when he maneuvered them to keep his shoulder out from under the spray.

"I'm sorry, sweetheart," she murmured against his mouth, pressing as closely as she could against him while his hands glided over her body, down her back to her butt. She hummed happily as his fingers kneaded the flesh, peppering the open neck of his dress shirt with kisses to the moistened skin that was warming in the water.

His clothes were soaked through, the striped shirt practically see-through now, showing off his shields and stiff nipples. Smiling, she slid her palms up his torso to circle her fingertips around and around the hardening buds through his shirt.

"I think we can probably lose this now, don't you?" she asked with another impish grin, tugging the hem free of his waistband.

She unhooked his suspenders rather than drag the one over his shoulder, taking great care to peel the sodden shirt off him one arm at a time to minimize the stress on his injury. All the while an almost endless and largely meaningless stream of praise and soothing words left her lips in between gentle kisses pressed to his chest, his neck, his bicep, wherever they happened to land.

At length they got his shirt off and tossed it carelessly to the back of the shower stall. Pate reached up with both hands and swept his drenched hair back out of his face, sweeping it straight back over the crown of his head.

"Not so bad, right?" she asked, hands trailing from his head down to cup his jaw between them. "Is your shoulder okay? I hoped maybe the heat might help it some."

He let her strip him, stealing kisses when he could. Her fingers were nice on his piercings; what was nicer were her palms, applying a little more pressure to them, sending spikes of pleasure into his chest. He returned the favor, rolling her nipples between his thumb and finger, and even interrupting her attempt to get him naked by bending over and taking one into his mouth. Her skin was warm, of course, and the inside of his mouth as he suckled wasn't. He liked the contrast and didn't release her until she forced his head away.

She pushed his soaked hair back and up, and he shook his head like a dog, flinging more water everywhere. As his hair was immediately drenched again it was futile, and it tweaked his shoulder a little, so he didn't repeat it.

"It'll be fine. It's good," he fibbed, more interested in other, more carnal things at the moment than his dumb injured shoulder. "It seems there's one thing missing from this shower, Pate."

He gave her a second to look around them, brow furrowed, before answering himself, with a devilish grin.

"There's no bed in here. How'm I supposed to fuck you through the mattress if there's no bed in here?"

With his fingers teasing her nipples into points, as pleasurable as it was (and it was pleasurable), Pate steadfastly continued her attempts to at least rinse the worst of the grime off him. When he took it upon himself to latch onto a breast with his mouth she gasped and arched at the sensation; the steaming water and her own heated skin contrasted with his cool tongue and lips had arousal pooling in the pit of her stomach, thumping in her pulse points and in between her legs.

Judging by the strained fabric at the front of Beetlejuice's pants, he was more than ready to go. And truthfully, so was she, but she wanted to take her time this round, to show him what he meant to her and how glad she was to have him in her life. Which meant she was going to need to cool them both down, just a little bit, to make this last. Breathing deeply, willing herself to remain composed she smiled up at his observation.

"Don't you worry, Bug," she cooed, her thumbs circling the points of his hips. "We'll have plenty of time for that. We've got all the time we want."

She turned off the water and grabbed a couple towels from the shelf mounted next to the shower. Briskly drying herself, Pate also toweled off Beetlejuice's hair while he wriggled his way at last out of his drenched and clinging pants. His hardened cock sprang free as he slid his tatty boxer-briefs down, nestled in pubic hair that was tinted distinctly pink, like the rest of his hair. Smiling at him, both of them still slightly damp and warm, Pate gripped his waist and pulled herself flush against him for another kiss.

"Go lay down for me?" she murmured into his mouth. "Let me take care of you?"

After a rough toweling and his cock being trapped against her, he'd have done just about anything she'd asked. He nodded feverishly at her request even if he wasn't quite sure what she meant, and led the way back to the bedroom, flopping down onto the mattress.

She giggled as he bounced on the bed, his damp hair fluffy as bird's down. Pink was crawling up the soft green strands from the roots, darkening even as she padded over and seated herself, still every bit as naked as he was, on the bed next to him. Pate smiled fondly down at him, his lips slightly parted in anticipation, eyes riveted to her face as she stroked a hand through his hair. Even the minimal washing had made it so much softer, silky between her fingers, and her smile widened when he let his head roll to the side, into her touch.

Shifting closer, her leg bent under her while the other dangled off the edge of the mattress, Pate leaned in to press her mouth to his again, supporting her weight on her elbow so she could keep her hand in his hair while the other wandered his body; her thumb brushing across the apple of his cheek, stroking his scruffy jaw and down his neck, scratching lightly through his chest hair.

"I wanna make you feel so good, Bug," she breathed against him in between hot presses of their lips against one another. "I wish I'd done it sooner."

She let her head fall next to his, lavishing hot open mouth kisses to the side of his neck while her scratching fingers roamed lower, following the wispy trail of hair from his belly to his groin.

She felt him tense, heard him gasp as she just grazed the head of his cock. "I wanna taste you, baby. Would you like that?"

He was already losing the heat he'd gained from the shower, so it was nice Pate snuggled into his side. Her hand and fingers felt good too, scratching along his skin, tickling him in the best way. He couldn't help but moan at something as simple as her nails in his scruff; that particular caress happened so few and far between he never remembered how much he liked that until someone did it.

He could pound nails with his cock, and nothing had really even happened yet. Needily, he opened his mouth against hers, straining upward to keep the contact as long as he could when she pulled back to breathe.

Her words too, sent a shiver through him. It was rare enough to be non-existent that someone wanted to take care of him that he wasn't quite sure what to say or do. He thought he should touch her, return the caresses, just fling her over and go to town rutting, but she settled even more comfortably with her head against his.

"Y-yes?" he faltered. He cleared his throat and tried again, as difficult as that was when her hand brushed his cock. "Yes, please, fuck, Pate!"

Random monosyllabic words should convey it, right?

His enthusiastic consent, slightly raspy and edged with desperation, excited her. She sucked delicately on the sensitive skin just behind his ear, kissing her way around to his face as she raised herself onto her knees. Pate giggled when he sat up as much as he could to keep their mouths in contact as she moved away, her hands trailing down his body as she went. Finally he collapsed back into the pillows, watching her with lust blown eyes as she settled herself between his legs.

There really was no more point in teasing him, he was already so hard. She could see a glistening bead of pre-cum at the slit. Her heart hammering in her chest, as much with nerves as with arousal, she stroked her hands up and down his thighs and made a confession.

"I've, um . . . never actually done this before. So you'll let me know if I'm doing it right?"

She'd held him in her hand already, so she wasn't too shy to settle in and wrap her hand around him. At her touch, Beetlejuice let out the most gorgeous cross between a gasp and a moan and the sound went straight to her pussy. She could feel the wet heat between her own legs but that could wait.

Keeping her eyes on his face, watching for his reactions to see what he liked, Pate started out slowly, simply kissing up the underside of his shaft along the thick vein that ran there. When she got to the head, she lapped at the precariously perched drop of fluid and then experimentally took him in her mouth, just a bit, to get used to the feel and the taste of him.

It took a lot of willpower not to buck up against the moist wet heat of her mouth. But after her confession, he didn't want to do anything brash like gag her and turn her off it completely. Still, he couldn't help reaching down and catching the side of her head as she made it to the top of his shaft and put her lips around him. When her tongue lapped at him, caught between her lips, he closed his eyes and groaned. He forced himself to hold very still.

She stopped, and he opened his eyes again to look down at her, looking up at him with a slightly worried look on her face.

"Don't tease," he warned lightly, but with a smile, interpreting her expression that maybe she'd done something wrong. "You're doing fine, baby. Your mouth feels so good, I just had to concentrate on something else for a sec. You know, think about baseball stats and Sandworm incubation facts and stuff like that."

He brushed the hair off her forehead, then thought that maybe holding her head was going to be too presumptuous, so he released her and put that hand to his side.

Pate smiled around his cock when his fingers found their way into her hair and the delicious moan that escaped him. She could feel the tension in his thighs, the muscle taut and straining and she worried for a moment that she'd hurt him. At his smile and words of reassurance, it occurred to her that it was the other way round: once again he was taking her feelings into consideration ahead of his own. She'd already admitted her lack of experience, he must be restraining himself so as not to spook her.

Though she didn't think she was quite ready to take him all the way down, she was determined to return the consideration. Taking him in her mouth again, a little further this time, running her tongue around and around him, hollowing her cheeks, she then got her hands involved as well. She grasped his shaft lightly in one hand, pumping minutely while the other reached up to locate his hand. Catching his fingers, Pate tugged his hand back down and pressed it to her head. It was nice to have the guiding contact, helping her find the rhythm he wanted. When his hand curled once more into her hair, she let her own fall from his and trailed her fingers down his hip, giving his balls a gentle exploratory tug.

That wet heat made him groan again; so similar and different than a pussy, all at the same time. Her tongue never stopped, and when she applied some suction, he clenched his fists into the bed linens while his thighs tensed. She hadn't taken her hand off him either, and that added a little extra novel stimulation too.

Her reaching for his hand and prying it off the sheets made him open his eyes and watch her put it back into her hair, and with her permission now he had her bob at a little faster pace.

"Fuck, baby," he moaned, "your mouth feels so good--I fucking love it--use your hand a little more, give me a little squeeze--ah--!"

The unexpected fondle on his balls made him jump. His fingers slipped out of her hair to her jaw, and he lifted her head just a little so she'd look at him. She did not take her mouth off him.

"Hah--easy, easy down there, baby," he chuckled. "A little bit goes a long way, 'kay?"

Her nod made his cock slide into her mouth again, and he couldn't help but moan wordlessly at the sight. His free hand went to the same side's nipple, and he rubbed his piercing to make pleasure slip through his body from both erogenous zones.

She may say she was inexperienced, but he wasn't going to last long.

All his little moans and gasps, his fingers twitching against her scalp, his legs taut as bowstrings to either side of her while she stroked and sucked him. He looked so good like this and Pate found herself torn. Part of her was eager to see how much more he could take, how many more sounds she could coax from him, if she could make him tremble and shake. She felt sure that she could, he was clearly very close already.

But goddamn did she want him inside her. She wanted his arms around her and hers around him. She wanted his mouth on her, she didn’t even care what part. Though her cunt was aching dully, neglected while she devoted all her attention to him. Since she had made up her mind that this was his night, Pate decided to leave it up to him. She took him in as deep as she could, drawing slowly back until he slid from between her lips and leaving his cock coated in saliva as she idly continued stroking with one hand. Smiling as she watched him play with his own nipple, her other hand traced up and down his forearm.

“How bout it, Beej?” she asked. “Want me to keep going or would you like a break?”

A break. A break was good. Good--

The climb up the ladder was bliss, but it got more precarious the closer he got to the top, and he wasn't sure he'd have been able to prevent coming if Pate hadn't taken it upon herself to give him a second to recoup.

He picked up his head and looked down at her, smiling up at him coyly, her lips shiny from spit. Idly she pulled his cock like it was nothing, like she didn't realize her hand was of the best things in the fucking world at the moment and she was going to make him come in a just a few more stokes--or maybe she did--

"Pate, baby, please, your mouth--please?" he begged, sounding needy in his own ears. "It was so good, it is so good--!"

He cut himself off with a keening whine as she took pity on him and closed her mouth over him again.

His voice, desperate and needful, begging for her, made her throbbing pussy clench. Dutifully she bent back to her task, sighing in gratification at the high-pitched whine he let out as her lips encircled him. She didn’t suck too hard, wanting to savor seeing him coming apart for her like this, but she did bob her head, laving the underside of his shaft with the flat of her tongue, flicking at the flared head. He seemed to enjoy the additional stimulation provided by her hands, so she let them roam as far as they could reach; up his inner thighs, over his hip bones, dragging her nails over his stomach.

Despite the fact that Beetlejuice didn’t need to breathe, he was panting, his mouth open and his eyes tightly shut. He continued mercilessly teasing one of his pierced nipples, now a hard, bright red bud. She moaned against him in her mouth, the vibration making his hips move in a frantically aborted jerk as he keened right along with her. He was close, then, so close, but there was one more thing she wanted to do.

Slipping one hand up to his chest, she palmed his neglected nipple, scratching around the shield while she moved her mouth off his cock and replaced it at once with her other hand when he whined again at the loss of contact. His entire groin was slick with her saliva, so she continued pumping him with her hand, nosing at the hot pink nest of pubic hair before taking his balls between her lips, first one and then the other, sucking gently.

Pleasure was a solid mass in him, expanding to fill each and every inch. He was rapidly losing the ability to think coherently. His chest was on fire; Pate wasn’t overly gentle as her hand went to his nipple and stimulation to his piercings made them ache in the most delicious way.

He whined at the loss of her mouth and she immediately stroked him by hand, that was good, good, her mouth had wet heat but her hand had pressure--she slipped further down, out of the reach of all but the tips of his fingers, he managed to pick up his head to see what she was doing--all the hair on his body was as flamingo pink, like he’d been spray painted--then her glorious mouth was on his balls and that was a fourth spot that threw fuel on the blaze of euphoria inside him--

Through the unending moans, he managed to babble, “Fuck-fuck-fuck--Pate, I’m gonna come--I’m gonna come--” to warn her.

It wasn’t soon enough. That pleasure was at its tipping point. He tensed involuntarily and cried out as he came. A rope of jizz exploded from his cock onto his belly; her fist had been high on his shaft and got covered too.

For a second he was lost in himself, riding the wave of pleasure. Everything in the universe seemed to pause and he drifted back to reality slowly, gradually realizing Pate was still between his thighs.

He groaned and tightened his fingers in the hair on her head that he could reach, urging without words for her to come back up.

Pate’s ministrations slowed but did not stop as Beetlejuice went rigid all over, his cock twitching in her hand as he found his release and spurted translucent cum over his stomach. She kept stroking and sucking while he rode it out, drinking in his ecstatic cry and the reedy moans that followed that initial spike of pleasure. When he finally went slack, sagging heavily into the bedspread she sat upright between his legs, smiling at him. Every bit of hair on his body was bright pink, his amber eyes glassy and a drunken grin on his face. Her hand was still curled loosely around him, growing soft but still dripping. She leaned into his reaching fingers for a moment, humming happily, before dipping her head to take his cock between her lips once more, eliciting a whimper at the contact to his already overstimulated head.

She didn’t suck hard or go down far, just enough to catch the trailing rivulets of cum before they slid down his shaft into his hair. Pulling back up and releasing him with a soft pop! she repeated the process on her own hand, keeping her eyes on his as she licked away the sticky residue.

“We made a bit of a mess, didn’t we?” she purred, her pussy fluttering excitedly at the look on his face as she raised herself onto her hands and knees and began crawling over him. “Let’s get you cleaned up.”

Watching his expression as long as possible while she lowered her head to his soft, rounded belly, Pate pushed her hair back with one hand while she lapped at the spattered release dotted across his abdomen.

The taste of it was salty and earthy on her tongue, almost like grass or moss with a tinge of something slightly acrid. A long, low moan left him as she dragged her tongue and lips over his skin, wicking away the chilly smears with her mouth and working her way up his chest where she paused long enough to press a soft, warm kiss to his red and stiff nipple before settling finally at his side, nuzzling into the side of his face.

“I take it you liked that?” she giggled.

Her soft tongue dragging itself over his skin, through the hair on his belly, lapping up his come, seared itself into his mind's eye as one of the sexiest fucking things he'd ever seen. Top five, easily.

And the soft kiss on his overworked nipple made him twitch. He nodded in response to her question, and caught the back of her head to pull her in for a deep kiss. The taste of himself in her mouth made him groan deep in his chest, and his free hand roamed down her body, making a pit stop to cup and knead her breast and roll her nipple to a hard nub.

When she needed air, he still kept her close.

"It's not gonna take long for me to be ready for you again," he muttered into her open mouth, dropping his eyes to indicate his groin. "But what would you like to do in the meantime? What would you like me to do to you, baby, or is it dealer's choice?"

Pate sighed through her nose, letting herself melt into him as their mouths moved against one another. She moaned when his hand found her breast, kneading the pliable flesh and teasing her nipple. Her leg draped across his thigh, hooking her foot around his calf while one hand pressed flat to his chest. Coming up to breathe was annoying but necessary, her hand gliding up his sternum to cup his jaw while she panted against his lips, their eyes locked together at least until his darted downward toward his crotch.

His murmured words made her shiver, the throbbing heat between her legs not abated in the least, and she chuckled.

"Well, we are in Vegas," she replied. "People come here to gamble and, I gotta admit, I'm feeling pretty lucky." She leaned in to pepper his neck with more soft, wet kisses. "I'm game with whatever you wanna throw at me, Beej. I trust you."

Her leg over his pressed her groin to his thigh, and from the heat of her pussy it was more than obvious she’d been turned on without him doing anything more than laying back and letting her have her way with him. The least he could do was return the favor.

He glanced up and back to take stock of the headboard of the bed. Bolted to the wall, it seemed, and that was perfect. Twisting without telling her his intentions, Beetlejuice tossed the pillows off the bed, and then turned his attention back to her.

Drawing a hand down her side and stretching to reach the lower swell of her ass, he pulled upward as he said,

“I think I’m the lucky one. Come on baby. Crawl up me and have a seat right here.”

He licked his lips through a smile and raised his eyebrows so there was no mistaking exactly where he meant.

She gave an appreciative purr against the column of his throat when Beetlejuice's hand slid down to grab at her ass, tugging insistently for her to reposition herself. The unmistakably suggestive smile, his tongue gliding over his lips and the desire smoldering in his amber eyes had her insides squirming again, arousal bubbling low in her gut like molten metal, threatening to overflow.

A little uncertain, Pate got her limbs underneath her and rose up onto her knees beside him. Bracing herself with one hand to the headboard, Beetlejuice's own hands coming up to grip her hips and help keep her steady, she positioned herself so that she straddled his head. Her heart felt like it was trying to beat its way out of her ribs, keeping one hand on the headboard as she looked down the length of her body at his face. His eyes were practically glued to her pussy, but she reached down with her free hand to run her fingers through his hair and get his attention.

"Don't-don't let me hurt you, okay?" she said, her voice faltering on her a bit. "If you need to stop, you stop."

The pressure of her thighs around his head, the intoxicating heat of her, her most intimate area practically in his mouth -- it took him a second of her applying increasing pressure pulling his hair for him to break his gaze on her pussy and look up her body to her eyes.

Her legs trembled, and he wasn't sure if it was from anticipation or from the effort of keeping herself up off him. From the look of apprehension on her face, it was probably the latter.

"You can't hurt me, baby," he told her. "Non-breathing, remember? But if you need a break, if you to tap out, you're gonna have to let me know--"

With that, without waiting for a reply, he lifted his head the short distance between them and closed his mouth over her pussy.

She was going to point out that with his injured shoulder, yes, in fact she could hurt him without meaning to, particularly with the position they were in. But any words that may have tried to form were lost in the surprised yelp that forced its way out as he dove right in, finally finally touching her where she was most desperate for him.

Pate fought to keep herself from going totally slack against him and depositing her full weight on his face, even as her head lolled back and her eyes slid shut at the feeling of his lips working against her, his tongue delving into her folds.

The hand still in his hair tightened into a fist, tugging the soft, bright pink locks while the arm on the headboard went ramrod straight as her thighs continued to strain and shake around his head.

"Ohhh, fuck, Beeeeeej," she moaned. "Baby, that feels so good."

The taste of her flooded his mouth and he groaned his appreciation. After first trying to cover the entirety of her and hearing her yelp as he did, he grinned and relaxed, licking her slowly from cunt to clit, over and over.

He tried to watch her but she’d arched a little backwards so he had no view of her face. Closing his eyes instead, he focused on her in his mouth. He explored her, and learned what she liked: dipping his tongue into her like a thinner, more mobile cock, sucking her folds, discovering her clit and using a combination of suction and lapping and humming so his mouth vibrated against her.

Her hand tight in his hair helped guide him to what she wanted.

One thing he didn’t like was her still trying to be considerate and hold herself up a little. Taking her by the hips, he pulled her down forcefully onto him, chuckling as she gasped and struggled for a moment, before he made her moan from pleasure again.

“You taste so good, baby,” he said in her ear, even though his mouth was fully occupied.

She had already been so wet, so ready for him that now with his tongue prodding in and out of her entrance and circling her clit, ecstasy was pulsing from her cunt outward into her furthest nerve endings like bolts of lightning. He surprised her when he yanked her down onto him, his big hands and long fingers grasping her by the hips to hold her in place.

When he chuckled the vibration tingled through her entire groin and she whimpered, biting at her bottom lip while her hand carded through his hair. Hearing his voice in her ear while his lips and tongue were buried in her pussy made her groan as a shudder went down her spine, her hips rolling slightly against his mouth.

“God, Beej, I'm close," she rasped, and it was true. That tightly wound spring in the pit of her stomach was going to give any second.

She'd finally stopped struggling to stay off him, and even rocked her pelvis harder onto him, which made him grin. Her fingers tightened in his hair, a good ache, and he focused on her clit, holding it lightly between his lips and applying steady pressure with the flat of his tongue. Occasionally he shook his head minutely, for some variance.

When her thighs trembled around his head and she cried that she was close, he was relentless, increasing the pressure, the suction, on her.

Into her ear he whispered, "That's good baby--come for me? Come on my mouth, come in my mouth--such a good girl--"

Gripping her tightly, he kept her in place.

She felt his hands grip her harder, fingers pressing into the flesh as he ravished her clit with single-minded attention. A high, strangled cry escaped her, core muscles tightening and arching her forward to watch him, panting and moaning breathlessly as he egged her closer and closer to the edge.

"Beej, shit! AH!" she whined, burying both hands in his magenta hair while her hips juddered against his mouth.

She didn't want to go too hard, but she was so close now it was almost agony. She raked her nails over his scalp, whimpering as she teetered there on the precipice. She felt him hum against her, his eyes opening and raising to meet hers and the coiled spring snapped at last. Pate let out a wordless cry as she came against his mouth, bracing her hands against the headboard again as pleasure wracked her body in wave after wave, each a little gentler than the last until they subsided and left her trembling, nearly bent double over Beetlejuice's head between her thighs.

"Baby, oh my god," she whispered, almost close enough to kiss his hairline.

Pate's cries of pleasure were muffled, but there was no denying her body's reaction. He grinned as wetness flooded his mouth and chin, and as she couldn't contain herself, squeezing her thighs around his head and fingers gripping his hair so hard it hurt until she had to support herself against the headboard.

He stayed in place, continuing to lap at her swollen clit gently, wanting to draw out her orgasm as long as she could stand it.

It took her a little time, but eventually she moved herself up and away from his mouth. He did stretch upward to plant one more kiss on her pussy as she did, smiling impishly.

"I guess that was okay then, baby?" he asked while she panted and continued to tremble over him.

Difficult as it was to lift herself off him with legs turned to rubber, Pate eased back down to the mattress beside him, propping on one elbow so she could lean in to kiss him. She moaned into his mouth at the taste of herself on his lips and tongue, her hands unable to keep from cupping his face between them, tracing through his hair, down his neck, skating over his chest.

She huffed a breathless laugh at his self-satisfied question, but try as she might she couldn't come up with anything clever to say back. Just as he'd predicted, though, Beetlejuice was indeed growing hard again, she could already tell. Smirking at him, Pate kissed a trail from his lips, pecking his chin and his neck all the way down his chest to a nipple where she proceeded to wrap her lips around one of the shields, strumming the rosy bud with the tip of her tongue and humming against the silver circle.

Teasing and using their mouths all night? He could get behind that. Her kisses were nice; he arched his back and hissed as her mouth closed over a piercing.

His cock throbbed though, and he wondered if she wanted something a little more than just what they'd already done. Despite quite enjoying her playing on his chest, he caught her hair in his fingers and urged her back up to his mouth. When she complied, he kissed her deeply. As she relaxed into it, he grinned impishly and without preamble flipped her to her back so he was finally on top of her.

At her gasp due to the sudden change in position he grinned even more widely and leaned down to kiss her again. That move strained his healing shoulder, so he went to an elbow on that side and did his best to ignore it.

She could have happily continued mouthing at his nipples for a good long while, particularly when the sensation made him arch so prettily off the bed. But Beetlejuice seemed to have had enough of teasing for the time being, and Pate’s surprised gasp turned into a delighted laugh when he abruptly rolled them over and pressed her to the bedspread, pinning her under his body. The feel of him, every inch of him, crushed against her made her heart race again, that squirming, fluttering starting up in the pit of her stomach once more.

Pate smiled against his mouth when he dipped his head to catch her lips in another deep kiss, running her fingers through the short, fine hair at the base of his skull while she wiggled into a more comfortable position underneath him, dragging the heel of one foot up the back of his leg. His erection, sandwiched between them and digging into her abdomen, made the muscles in her pelvic floor clench.

“I take it this means you’re ready to go again?” she giggled, nipping softly at the juncture of his jaw and his neck.

She'd laughed and wiggled so teasingly under him. She'd also kept him close by wrapping her leg over his.

"I think you already know the answer to that, babydoll," he groaned.

He shifted, pushing himself upward just a little off her. Walking his hand down her side, making a pit stop to cup her tit and plucking her nipple to a peak, he slipped his hand between their bellies and took his cock by the base. Rocking his hips back, it was easy to drag the head of his cock along her slit. Just that felt good, so he did it again, and again. pausing each time as though he was about to slip into her. If he wasn't pressed so tightly to her, he'd have watched his own hand, but as it were, he watched her expressions as he teased.

He repeated her question back to her. "You ready to go again, baby?"

A tiny, breathless moan left her when his tip brushed along the length of her lips. Tingling heat prickled her skin, from scalp to toes, as he repeated the motion several more times and she gasped with each tantalizing pass, worrying her bottom lip between her teeth. The warm tingling settled in her nether region, pulsing anxiously at Beetlejuice's teasing.

Between that, the bite of the chilly nipple shields that periodically grazed so perfectly against her own nipples, his husky voice tickling her skin . . . it was almost too much to take. Pate arched up against him, angling for a kiss but missing the mark and pressing her forehead to his brow, her parted lips gasping against the corner of his mouth.

"Fuck, Beej, yes need you so bad, baby," she all but whined, her hands grasping at his neck, the side of his head, his upper arm braced against the mattress.

He chuckled, about to tease her for her neediness, but she'd be able to turn that right back on him too if she wanted. So this time, when his cock slipped smoothly down her folds, he hesitated only another moment before rocking his hips forward, dipping the tip into her pussy.

The immediate heat made him groan, and he pushed forward. There was a little resistance--he could've used a little spit for lube--but the friction was divine and he didn't stop until he was buried fully inside her.

Beetlejuice moaned, a long thin sound as his groin met hers. He paused, and held himself up off her with one solid and one shaky arm.

"Fuck, baby--you feel so fucking good--" he panted.

Pate bit back a whimper at the pressure as he pushed himself inside, gradually relaxing around his length once he was fully hilted. She sighed at his moan, at the sublime feeling of fullness in her pussy and his body flush against hers, reaching up to press a hand to his cheek. His stubble scratched at her palm, her thumb brushing the curve of his jaw while the pads of her fingers rubbed idly at the soft, delicate skin behind his ear. She smiled at his breathless words.

“So do you, sweetheart,” she murmured. “God, I love how it feels to have you inside me.”

She turned her head, pressing kisses to his bicep up toward the front of his shoulder, about to hoist her legs around his waist and assure him that it was okay to start moving. But she paused a moment, feeling the tremble in the taut muscle against her lips, and just like that she remembered his injury.

“Beej, are you okay like this?” she asked, concerned, bringing up her other hand to hold his face. “Do we need to move? It’s fine if you can’t stay like this, honey, we’ll work it out.”

He couldn’t still his hips; the drive to thrust into her was a primal need. He was able to simply rock them, however, smaller, more delicate movements that still made bliss flare inside him. At Pate’s questions, he stopped again, buried deep inside her. That might have been a poor choice, because the tight heat of her pussy threatened to shut down higher brain function.

He pushed himself up a little off her and looked down. She was beautiful under him, her eyes dark with arousal and pleasure, her lips shiny. Her chest heaved from her breaths and her tits were perfect. Her belly pressed against his and her legs wrapped around his waist and thighs; this was sublime. She was perfection below him.

In the precious seconds it took to be able to try and answer her his injured arm started to shake.

Despite the obvious physical response to her question, he shook his head.

“No, no--I want this, I wanted you under me, I wanted to do the work--” he groaned. “I want to make you feel good, baby--”

He cut himself off with another groan.

Truth be told, she wanted this, too. The weight of him on top of her, pressing her down into the mattress, the delicious friction produced when his hips rocked so gently into her. It was all so damn good. She was desperate for more and she wished she could just wrap her limbs around him and take whatever he had to give, to give him everything she had to offer. But the pinched, pained flicker that crossed his face, the tremor that shook his rigid arm as he held himself up, trying so hard to solider on despite the obvious pain he must be in, all for her. Her thumping heart seemed to swell inside her chest, her hand idly stroking the side of his face as an idea began to form.

“Hey, what about your tentacles?” she suggested.

It felt like such a weird thing to say aloud in a sexual situation, but at the same time she felt dumb for not having thought of it sooner. At his questioning look Pate elaborated, tracing her other hand down the back of his upper arm as she said,

“That way you can relax your shoulder and we can still stay like we are. Because as much as I like having you on top of me, I don’t want it causing you pain.”

She traced his bottom lip with the pad of her thumb, eyes searching his face.

“How’s that sound, Bug?”

Her suggestion cut through the pleasure and the ache. He stopped completely, and stared down at her with wide eyes. There was no way he'd heard her correctly.

"My--what? W-what?" he stuttered.

When he stammered like he'd misunderstood and went stock still, she did worry that she might've totally ruined the mood. She craned her head up, pressing her lips to his in soft, warm kisses, trailing across his cheek, tugging his head down to reach his forehead with her mouth, doing her best to soothe the distress from his features.

"You don't have to if you don't want," she assured him first and foremost. "It was just an idea, take the weight off your arm, use one of your tentacles to hold yourself up. I want this to be good for you, too, sweet boy."

Even surprise didn't prevent him from automatically returning her kisses, but he didn't close his eyes as he tried to wrap his head around what she'd said.

His shadow mass? His tentacles? They were frightening appendages. No one who saw them wanted to see them again; usually they never wanted to see him again. He'd been sent away more than once when a breather got a look at them, and him looking more demonic than not. And Pate suggested them?

He said, "Pate, baby . . . I . . ."

Then he was stuck. They were monstrous. He was monstrous with them.

". . . I . . . that's not . . . I mean. You'd be . . . okay with that?"

Pate laughed lightly through her nose, tilting her head and taking the mixture of awe and disbelief on his face. She smiled warmly up at him, lightly stroking her fingers up and down his jaw, brushing the corner of his lips with her thumb. Her fond smile only widened when he leaned into her touch, like he wasn't even aware he was doing it.

Even after everything they had been through together, even though they were lying in bed together, him literally inside her, he always seemed so certain that he was just about to be sent away. Given what she'd gleaned about his experiences before they met, Pate had no trouble understanding why, as much as it saddened her to think about.

She could understand why he would be hesitant to show his more demonic self to her again, but every time she had glimpsed it before he had been protecting her, saving her. She'd been startled by them at first, to be sure, but she was no more afraid of them now than she was of him. So she told him so.

"Of course, Love Bug," she replied, still smiling at him, still cradling the side of his face in her hand. "They're part of you. There's nothing about you that I'd be not okay with because... I like you, Beetlejuice."

She used his full name, knowing it would get his attention and hold it.

"I like you a lot. All of you. You don't have to hide anything about you from me, okay?"

It still took him several moments of trying to fully understand what she proposed and that she said she was okay with it. Those several moments made his shoulder ache so much he couldn’t control the tremor in his arm.

Pate was smiling up at him. She was still holding his face. She hadn’t kicked him off her--for which he was more than grateful, because laying atop her still buried in her heat was sublime, even if his brain was short-circuiting for a different reason than shared pleasure. He supposed there’d be plenty of time for her to plant her feet on his chest and shove him away, once she realized what she’d suggested was a mistake.

With a thought, with a sigh, Beetlejuice brought forth one tentacle from his shadow mass. A second and third followed it; releasing just one made it difficult to prevent others from slipping through the ether. With concentration, he didn’t allow others.

One, as per her suggestion, went to the mattress to bolster himself. As soon as it seemed solid, he relaxed his arm, and she was right; it helped immensely. The other two, the ones he would have preferred not to have at the moment because one was enough for a breather to try and handle, gently explored her, one at her shoulder, the other her waist. They nudged along her skin and the one higher on her body dipped down to her tit. When it realized her nipple hardened, it wrapped around the bud and seemed content to apply pressure at random intervals.

Beetlejuice had closed his eyes and his lips were a thin line. He imagined a horrified expression on her face, but she hadn’t gasped, screamed, or shoved him off her yet, so cautiously he cracked his eyelids again to look down at her.

She couldn't help the tiny surprised gasp that escaped when not one but three of the writhing tendrils of shadow appeared, as if slipping through a gap between reality and some other world. Or were they always there, albeit invisible? Pate watched curiously, fascinated by them as one pressed firmly down into the mattress by her head while the others tentatively moved around her body. Beetlejuice let out a soft, relieved sound as she saw his arm relax, the tentacle taking the weight with practically no effort.

Seeing them again with no dire life-or-death situation taking center stage, Pate wondered at them. They appeared prehensile, acting independently of one another as they glided over her skin, or perhaps they had a sort of intelligence of their own? They had a weight and a mass to them, almost like the muscled, tubular body of a snake but instead of cool scales they felt like velvet, smooth and surprisingly soft. Her questions evaporated when the tentacle exploring her upper body found her breast, curling around the nipple and squeezing much like Beetlejuice would with his own hands. She gasped again at the feeling, her hand reaching up to wrap around the black mass and hold it encouragingly in place.

Above her, Beetlejuice's expression was one of someone braced for an imminent explosion or crash, his lips pulled into a tight, thin line as he peeked at her. She grinned at him as the tentacle continued its gentle kneading, the hand still on his face skritching at his stubble.

"There now. Is that better?" she asked, glancing meaningfully at his shoulder.

“Oh baby, is it ever,” he groaned, and wondered how he could explain he meant both the ache in his shoulder and the fact that extra appendages were feeding him sensations as well.

Now his cock was deep in the wet heat of her pussy, and two tentacles were exploring her skin. It was divine. He rocked his hips, just a bit, to test his balance, and fresh pleasure bubbled up deep in his belly. Moaning, he leaned down and kissed her. It might be wrong to think about how it would feel to have more of his tentacles wrapped around her, now that it seemed she wasn’t horrified, but the inkling was there.

He thrust into her with a little more intent, and dropped his head to her neck, taking a bite of her skin between his teeth as he groaned.

Pate's eyes slid shut, humming happily and nibbling her own lip when his hips gave a small, perfunctory roll into her pelvis, feeling herself clenching minutely around him as they began working back up to the pleasure and the momentum they'd lost. She folded her arms around his neck when he dipped his head to hers, opening her mouth invitingly and sighing against him as his tongue delved in.

One of her hands slid into his hair, fingernails scratching at the back of his head to keep him close while the other wound under his arm and around his back, tracing random shapes over his skin. Likewise, the two tentacles not occupied with supporting him continued stroking along her body, the one still squeezing delightfully at her breast, the other coiling around her thigh. She hiked both legs up higher, around his waist, gasping when the shift in position actually allowed him to sink deeper into her.

"Oh, god, Beej," she moaned against his ear when his thrusting became a bit more deliberate. She hissed, tightening her grip in his hair when she felt his teeth on her neck. His groan vibrated against her skin as he began to find his rhythm and Pate moaned again, the sensations fogging her brain in need and want. His cock pumping into her, his mouth at her pulse, his clever and enthusiastic tentacles exploring her skin as if committing the shape of her to memory.

"That's it, baby," she moaned in between open mouthed kisses to the side of his head. "Oh fuck, Beej, just like that!"

Her words of encouragement fueled his hips and he drove into her. He’d ever get enough of her: her sounds, her warmth, the feel of her skin against his . . . she was a goddess and he ached for her.

Despite the fact that she obviously enjoyed having her tit manipulated, the tentacle left off. The closer he got to the pinnacle of orgasm, the harder he fucked her, and the two tentacles that had squirmed their way into existence slipped between Pate’s lower back and the mattress, elevating her hips so he could have a better angle to go deeply into her pussy.

It shifted his position too, making his pelvis cant so he had to sit up a bit. He pulled her legs to his shoulders. .

That eliminated most need for the support from the third tentacle, and it took the place of the one at her chest, a thicker section of it covering and applying pressure to her nipple, while the tip stretched upward and felt along her lower lip and corner of her mouth, before the tiniest bit of it slipped between her lips.

As his pace increased, Pate's mouth fell open and a litany of gasps, moans and broken speech spilled out. She shivered when she felt the sleek, smooth tentacles curling beneath her, lifting her off the bedspread. She gasped when he sat them more upright and slung her legs onto his chest, her feet framing his face while he held her thighs and she couldn't contain the tremulous whimper that came out when the change in angle caused his thrusting to hit dead center on a spot that took her breath away.

Her eyes closed as bliss continued to well up inside her like a pot just begging to boil over. The third tentacle, no longer necessary to support him, took to coiling itself around her breast, rhythmically squeezing while the tip played with her bottom lip. God how she wanted to kiss him, but she couldn't reach just now. So she wrapped her hand around the tentacle like she had his cock not so long ago, opening her mouth and guiding it in to explore, her other hand fumbling for and then landing on his thigh.

With her legs held to his chest, Pate could feel the bite of the cold nipple piercings against the back of her thighs, the rumbling in his torso as he moaned along with her, his hands digging into her soft flesh. She was rapidly becoming overwhelmed by the myriad of sensations building, a wave that was going to drag her under any second now. The angle of his cock driving into her hit that spot again and again and heat was flooding through her body.

"Beej! Ah! Fuck, baby, don't stop!" she cried, her own hands tightening on his thigh and the saliva-slick tentacle that continued to nudge at her face. "God, baby, I'm gonna come!"

Her laid out before him, his cock enveloped by the wet heat of her pussy and the tentacle dipping into the wet heat of her mouth for a split second, the beautiful moans from her--it was more than he could have imagined when she’d accidentally called him up so many days ago.

Even without her telling him, he knew she was close. There was a tremor in her that hadn’t been before. The hand on his leg squeezed. Her voice hitched. Her cunt tightened, relaxed, and tightened again. Through a haze of his own mounting ecstasy he let her guide him to what she needed; deep and at an angle that seemed to elicit the most pleasure in her.

He wouldn’t last much longer, but Beetlejuice kept his eyes locked on the woman below him.

“Fucking good, baby,” he praised, as he thrust into her. “Come on my cock--fuck! I wanna feel you come on my cock--”

He had to cut off his own sentence to concentrate on not coming himself, working hard to let her finish first.

His words of encouragement, hoarse and punctuated by grunts of effort, his burning amber eyes that held hers, watching her face, egging her on...

The intimacy of the steady eye contact was almost too much to stand, accompanied by the unflagging rhythm of his hips, his hands clasping at her thighs hard enough to bruise, his cock so perfectly hitting that spot with each inward thrust and his head dragging against it with each pull back. The tentacle at her chest was still at work, kneading and squeezing first one breast and then the other and then both. She moaned and whined, feeling muscles tighten in her core, in her legs, straining to reach the peak. Finally, all but screaming his name, Pate crested the wave and pleasure exploded through her body, her legs shaking against Beetlejuice's chest, her hips doing their best to move in time with him to ride it out as long as possible.

"Come with me, baby," she breathed, still adrift in the undulating ripples of euphoria, turning her ankles to curl her feet around the back of his neck.

He watched as she couldn't help break eye contact with him, as her orgasm dragged her away. His name from her lips made him smile, briefly, before his jaw loosened with the pleasure continuing to mount in him. He'd have liked to stop moving for a moment to savor the sight and feel of a beautiful woman falling apart below him, but the drive to keep fucking her was too much.

Through her orgasm, Pate's pussy contracted and released around his cock, adding increased friction. As he leaned over her, her ankles locked around the back of his neck, drawing him further down. Although two tentacles were still wrapped under the small of her back, supporting her, he slipped his weaker arm under her too, making her arch just a little more, shifting the angle of her hips and lighting up nerve endings he would have thought were already overstimulated.

He dropped his head and cried out. He was almost there, almost there--

Pate placed a palm directly over one of his piercings and squeezed, sending a shockwave of slightly painful pleasure coursing to add to the molten feeling in his belly. That, and her breathy little command were his undoing.

With a howl, Beetlejuice came deep inside her cunt, holding her tightly until his cock stopped throbbing.

Pate worried her bottom lip between her teeth, moaning and shuddering at the sensation of his cock twitching inside her as Beetlejuice followed her into bliss. She kept her hand over his nipple, kneading gently around the sensitive nub as his body began visibly relaxing against her legs still pressed to his chest.

Unhooking her ankles from around his neck, with just a little insistence he let go of her other leg and she shifted her position slightly before slipping them back around his waist, crossing them at his back and urging him closer. At the same time she levered herself upright using her legs wrapped around him as leverage and took his face in both hands, sighing contentedly at the feeling of his arms joining the tentacles around her as she slanted her mouth against his.

"What d'you think?" she gasped between hot, lazy presses of their lips together, smiling against him. "Better than Cher?"

Slowly he drifted back from his high as Pate readjusted underneath him. He'd have gotten off her completely, but she seemed content to have him lay atop her. He didn't put his full weight on her, however; he supported himself a little with his tentacles. They seemed sated too, moving lazily.

He tucked his forehead into the crook of her neck and shoulder.

"I don't know. Cher's pretty awesome," he replied, and when she flicked him with her fingers, he laughed. "It was a joke! This was a million times better than Cher."

Eventually he did move off to her side, his injured shoulder up. His tentacles retreated and he reveled in just relaxing beside her, warm and comfortable. Just being able to kiss her whenever he wanted was wonderful.

As they lazed contentedly, he mused, "I wonder what my beloved brother is doing right now."

Pate shuddered dramatically, told him to forget about his shitty family, and gave him a kiss that included some teeth on his collarbone.

Beetlejuice grinned and pinched her in retaliation. She giggled and he laughed, happy.

end

#writing #fanfiction #Beetlejuice #Beetlejuice x OC #rp #Beetlejuice based on blumjuice

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