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jinxhallows · 11 months

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kinktober #o17 | glory

KINKTOBER 2023 || jinxhallows glory (praise kink) || chan x fem!reader summary: you and chan met as volunteers for the local cabaret theatre, working as stagehands, but when it blossoms into something more, and the temperatures drop below freezing, chan figures out a way to warm you up, and fast... warnings: praise kink, and all that entails, plot heavy, fluffy, lots and lots of praise, 'daddy' petnames, non-idol AU

word count: 4k masterlist - click here

The first time he let it slip, you two were still just friends.

You both volunteered as stagehands at the downtown cabaret theater, and you had been sent out to purchase some last-minute supplies. Your coat was dripping wet over your arm from running through the rain, a shopping basket hooked in the crook of your opposite elbow, and you held the phone to your ear, spinning around to decipher the location of the checkout.

"Did you get the safety pins?" Chan's voice came through the phone.

You nodded, even though Chan couldn't see you. "Yeah."

"And-"

"I also got the glue gun sticks, an extra pack of AA batteries, and a small can of black acrylic paint," you rattled off.

"Good girl," Chan responded, genuinely impressed.

At the time, he had no idea that his words had a much different impact on you than he could have ever imagined. The idea of him praising you under very different circumstances had ignited a fire within you, one you couldn't ignore.

The season progressed and Chan worked up the courage to ask you out for drinks and now you two are barely two months into a very new relationship. Still working together, now as hired staff seasonally, at the cabaret theatre, you two are now working together on helping out with the production of A Christmas Carol. It’s two months until showtime, so you’re in the thick of things, managing a team of stage designers. Chan is managing the costume department and overseeing music direction. He has a brief gap between meetings, so he decides to surprise you by grabbing your favorite drink and muffin from the local coffee shop. After leaving a generous tip in the paper cup at the front of the register, he heads back to the theater through the brisk winter cold.

Chan enters the theater's workshop, finding you in your office. He closes the door behind him, greets you with a kiss and your drink, and then takes off his coat. As he hangs it on the nearby coat rack, you take a sip of the drink, savoring the warm, spicy flavors of your favorite spiced winter beverage. Opening the small, white paper bag, you take out your favorite muffin. "I needed this so badly. I was late this morning and couldn't grab breakfast."

"Why didn't you call? You know I could've picked you up," Chan says, sitting on the edge of your desk as you ease into your chair. You blow on your drink, preparing it for a sip. "Your car's been in the shop for weeks now. Any word on what's going on with it?"

You pause for a moment, taking a sip of your drink as you ponder how to address the issue. You've been avoiding Chan's questions about your mode of transportation since receiving the bad news. You're hesitant to reveal that you don't have everything under control, fearing it might push Chan away. After swallowing, you gather your thoughts and finally speak up.

"It's gonna be a while," you say, your voice tinged with a touch of uncertainty.

At this point, Chan has confirmed his suspicion that you're intentionally keeping this information from him. He nods, taking in your response, and glances at his watch. Fiddling with one of its links, he contemplates whether you've been together long enough for him to press you about these matters. He doesn't want to start an argument or intrude on your privacy, but he's genuinely concerned, especially with the weather getting colder and the distance you live from the theatre.

"That... doesn't sound good," Chan finally says, after you've taken another sip, looking back at you. You can feel the hesitation in his words and sense that he's holding something back. Your fingers nervously tap against your cup in an unknown rhythm that's stuck in your head. "Yeah, the engine, it's kind of... shot," you say, tapping the cup at a higher tempo. You find the lid of your cup more interesting than Chan's attempt to hide his shock. He knows he's not great at concealing his emotions, and he clears his throat, suddenly fascinated by his watch.

"Wow, that's... I'm sorry to hear that. Engine troubles can be expensive. You know if you need any help at all—"

"I'm just getting another car. I've been looking, but I haven't had the time yet, especially with the production coming up, so I've been taking the trains. I'm okay, though, Chan, really," you reassure him. Setting your cup down, you interlock your fingers, resting your chin on them, and offer him a disarming smile.

"Since you've had time to come visit me, I'm guessing you're ahead of schedule?" you inquire, relieved when you see his focus shift, steering the conversation in a different direction.

For now, you've evaded his questions again.

"Like a well-oiled machine. In fact, there's a little bit left over in the budget to get the fog machine fixed."

"Chan!" you laugh, "How did you manage that?"

"A few people owed me a few favors. I know how much you wanted to give those Ghost of Christmas Future scenes more ambiance." Chan embraces you, and you eagerly rush into his open arms, hugging him tightly, the scent of his shampoo and cologne filling your senses. When you let go, he slowly turns you around in his embrace, his arms encircling your body, your back against his chest.

"Thank you for this. Oh, Hailey will be so excited to hear this, and Thomas, we'll have to space out the set for Act Three, but that's no problem. I—" You stop yourself, your hand on your forehead as you catch yourself from rambling again. Chan loves seeing you excited like this, so he never stops you during your enthusiastic outbursts. You turn around, your arms resting on his shoulders, and you kiss him, expressing your gratitude with a hundred silent thank-yous.

Chan finds the courage to speak out, his hands gently resting along your waist. "Please let me give you a ride, at least to and from here. You live outside the city, and I'd feel better knowing you're safe in this cold." He anticipates a rebuttal and adds, "Just for the cabaret. Whatever else you do is your business, but if you did need me for other rides, I'd be up for it—just needed to get that out there," nodding affirmatively to you and himself.

You decide to accept his offer this time. You had guessed wrong; it had never left his mind the entire time.

"Fine," you roll your eyes with a small smirk, "I just know you live in the city, and that's out of your way."

"It's not, honest," Chan stands up and leans forward, kissing your forehead. "You're really special to me." With a smile, he heads out and adds, "I'll meet you in the lobby after rehearsal."

"You're really special to me..."

Those words reverberate in your mind for the next four hours of work. They're louder than the hammering of nails into wooden boards, louder than saws cutting through plywood, and even louder than the timpanis in the orchestra pit.

As you work, your head down while distressing the paint on the side of a fake building, you can hear Chan stopping and starting the musicians, going over pieces meticulously. It's hard not to lock eyes with him when he glances over at you occasionally.

Unbeknownst to you, Chan is entranced by the way you bring a vision to life, ingeniously assembling pieces that leave him baffled. He observes you walking among other stagehands, adeptly adjusting a streetlamp, your gloved hands confidently resting on your hips, toolbelt hanging down. You point, shake your head, and oversee adjustments, stepping back and tilting your head, scrutinizing it from various angles before granting it a thumbs-up.

Every so often, you cast an inconspicuous glance over your shoulder, but Chan has already shifted his focus long enough to deceive you into thinking he wasn't watching. He splits his attention between you and the piano, directing the musicians, a sight he relishes.

At one point, a designer stands beside the piano with a partially costumed actor, waiting for the right moment to approach Chan. The designer holds up a piece of velvet red fabric against the navy blue costume.

"Was thinking maybe this material?" the stylist asks.

"Nah, not really, the blue is better against the gold buttons," Chan nods, providing his expert opinion.

"Take a picture, it'll last longer," Thomas' voice teases, breaking your focus and startling you from your reverie.

"Oldest one in the book. And corniest," you quip back.

"Don't do it, boo. I'd be distracted if Chan were mine too," Thomas remarks, and you both sneak another glance in Chan's direction. "He is a delicious piece of sweet potato pie, ain't he?"

You nudge Thomas playfully, and both of you head backstage.

As the day concludes, everyone gathers around for announcements and updates from the director. Afterward, people begin to disperse. You're embraced by hugs from Thomas and other crew members who've become like family. The holiday break is upon you, and some are leaving town to enjoy their vacation. The lobby teems with people, and amid the crowd, you spot Chan. You hear him chatting with others, and as he finishes, his expression brightens as he spots you.

You’re really special to me… You give Chan a warm hug. It's cozy inside, a welcome refuge from the cold winter winds outside.

"Ready?" he asks with a grin.

You nod, and together, you make your way to the exit. The bitter cold greets you as you step outside, and the wind feels like needles on your exposed cheeks. You tug your scarf up around your nose to protect yourself from the icy gusts. Chan holds you even closer as you both step out into the open, and he opens the passenger door of his nearby parked car.

The car's interior offers immediate warmth, and you welcome it with relief. Chan yawns as the silence settles in around you. He had a busy but good day, and now he's just as eager to hear about yours, especially after getting lost in watching you do your thing.

"Are you sure you wanna do this? Like, drive me all the way home?" you ask, your voice tinged with doubt.

"Yes, I want to drive you all the way home," Chan says with a chuckle. He starts the car, shifting it into reverse to back out of the parking space. "And then I want to walk you all the way to your door, and then I want to kiss you, like we're a couple of teenagers from the fifties."

You laugh at his sweet sentiment.

"I'm serious! You make this relationship thing feel like it's worth something, like it's something I can do... forever," Chan says. He starts to feel a little self-conscious about gushing and quickly dials it back. "You're just... really special to me." There it is again.

"Chan," you begin, and there's a moment of hesitation.

"Yeah?" Chan's gaze remains fixed on the road, but he's eager to hear your words.

"I love you," you say, surprising both yourself and him with the sudden confession.

Each quiet second Chan spends frozen on the road ahead makes you want to backpedal. It’s too soon. Are you dumb? He’s gonna think you’re crazy. It’s not even three months yet.

“I love you too.” He says, and it comes out like his own kind of word vomit, at the tail end of his ruminating thoughts of whether or not you actually meant your statement. Then he guilts himself for doubting the expression of your feelings. Chan would just like to get out of his own head for thirty seconds.

"Ok, now that that's settled," you say, your humor helping to break the tension, and you settle into your seat with a sigh. "I'm sorry I get so weird about you helping me sometimes. I just feel like you have your shit together, and I'm still trying to figure it all out. I know you didn't sign up to get a girlfriend with a bunch of problems—baggage."

Chan snorts, a mixture of amusement and relief. He's glad to hear that this is what's been on your mind, that you've been carrying a self-imposed burden. He appreciates the vulnerability in your words. Sometimes he needs to feel needed, especially in a relationship.

"I'm not sure what your definition of having my shit together is, but this version of me, isn't it," he says with a smile. "I didn't sign up for a girlfriend with a perfect life. I signed up for Y/N, and all that comes with her. How dare you short me the fries to my combo?"

You both share a laugh, and as the car settles into the quiet hum of the engine, you notice snow falling and sticking to the slushy roads as you leave the city behind and enter the suburbs. You check the weather forecast on your phone, prompting you to speak up.

"There's a frost advisory tonight, love," you muse. "You think you should stay over tonight? The roads are gonna be awful."

Chan hadn't planned on it, but he realizes he has nothing urgent to rush home to, and he's getting pretty tired too.

"Good idea."

It takes another thirty minutes, but soon, Chan is pulling into your driveway, turning off the car and walking you to your door just as he said he would. He waits patiently next to you, his hands warming in his pockets as he looks around at the snow falling and piling up, covering the black streets in blinding white reflected against the streetlights.

It's a perfect night to snuggle with a special someone.

You turn on the music, an old Aqualung album filling the former silence, making the blanket of white outside look even more magical. You had never found yourself enjoying the quiet company of another until you started dating Chan. It's a new experience for both of you since you can get lost in conversation for hours. But with Chan, there's no pressure to keep coming up with new topics. It's one of the many reasons why he enjoys your company. He can just be himself around you.

You come over to join Chan as he sits on the floor against the couch. He initially begins to unfold his crossed legs to make room for you, but you extend a leg over his, straddling him instead, holding two cups of hot cocoa in your hands.

"Oh, well hello, beautiful," he chuckles, taking one of the mugs from you.

The way he says it makes your heart flutter, and you can't help but tease him. You sip your drink, looking at him with a mischievous gaze. "There's just something about the way you say those things to me."

"What things, baby?" Chan asks, playing along. He knows what you mean, but he loves hearing it from you. "When I tell you how pretty you are? How I get caught staring at you at work at least five times a day by the other volunteers?"

You can't contain your giggles, and he takes your mug and his, placing them on the coffee table as he cups your face. "I can feel how hot your cheeks are getting too."

"Because!"

"Because why? Give me one good reason why I shouldn't list every reason why I've fallen in love with you to your face."

You bite your lip, realizing Chan's winning the playful banter. He holds onto your hips, shifting himself underneath you and readjusting, all while focusing on being romantic rather than all the nasty things he wants to do to you with you straddling him like this.

He kisses you, gently at first, and then more passionately. "For one, you are beautiful. Anyone with eyes can see that..." You notice the drop in Chan's volume and the edge his tone gains, making you crave him in ways you haven’t been able t0 have him yet. “I like that.” “Yeah? You do? You should, ‘cause you’re a pretty girl, my pretty girl of course.” Chan's eyes linger on your lips, and you lean forward, capturing his lips in a single kiss that leaves both of you lingering, breathing heavily, your faces close.

"Call me your pretty girl again, and you might start something you can't finish."

"Who says I can't finish it, pretty girl?" Chan counters with a sly smile, his lips dangerously close to yours.

Chan is the next to initiate another kiss, drawing you into a passionate embrace. His hands trail up the bare skin of your back, hidden beneath your hoodie, leaving a trail of sinfire in their wake. You lean your head back with a gasp as he hums against your neck.

"Listen to those breaths you take, so sweet for me," Chan says, eager to hear more of your reactions. He sucks hard enough to leave a bruise under your collarbone, making you gasp in response.

"Oh my God, Chan, I—" You start to express concern, but the juxtaposition of his arousal and your own, both concealed beneath clothing, interrupts your common sense. He shouldn't be marking you up like this. You realize you'll need to wear a turtleneck or a collared shirt to cover your collarbone. “B-Be careful-”

"I'm sorry, baby. You're just so intoxicating, you know that?" Chan manages to peel himself away from devouring you for a brief moment, a feat that takes immense self-control. "And you have the most adorable smile."

You try to hide your smile, but he pulls your arm away. "No, let me see it. Look at how you get when I compliment you. I can't tell if you love it or hate it, but it's damn hot seeing you get all shy like this. Makes me want to say more, see how else your body responds to me."

"I think it's turning me on," you admit, your voice slightly shaky, and a coy smile forms on your lips.

“You think?” Chan states more than questions, running his nose and lips against your chest, peppering kisses up your neckline. He sucks again, leaving another mark, this time closer to your jaw. You moan in response, and he tangles his fingers in the hair at the nape of your neck as he pulls you in for a kiss. Your lips bruise against his, swollen as he pulls back, looking up at you as if you were Aphrodite herself.

“Thank you, babygirl. I’m sorry I left a couple of marks.”

“It’s okay, you should leave a couple more.”

So Chan does just that.

You hold onto his neck as he moves forward, pressing you into the floor, lifting your hoodie up and sliding it over your arms so he can lay more open-mouthed, deliciously wet kisses down to your navel. He dips his tongue in, taking your piercing between his teeth. Your back arches, and he's going for your jeans, ready to unbutton them, but he stops, sitting up on his knees.

Chan knows if he goes any further, it would be akin to dragging him from quicksand.

He has to ask first.

“We’ve never gone this far,” Chan says, feeling somewhat awkward for not just outright asking you. You realize, of course, that you two haven't gone this far, but Chan wants to ensure you're comfortable. How much further are you willing to go? Chan can easily wrap things up right here, but the way you're writhing underneath his lips every time they press into your skin, leading further and further down south; Chan needs you to tell him otherwise. “I want to go further,” you say, your thumbs hooked into the top of your pants. “You told me you'd finish it, didn't you?”

You assist him in getting your bottoms off, and he nuzzles against the damp fabric of your panties, taking in your scent. “Had no idea you’d smell this amazing,” Chan says, pulling your panties aside to slip a finger in, curling it up. “You must really want me, hmm?”

“Mhm, I do.”

“Can you take more fingers, baby?” “Yeah, I can,” you nod fervently, vigorously, eager to feel him spread you further. Chan gets two more fingers inside of you, and he pulls the panties even further around your lips, leaning down to kiss and suck your clit. He enjoys the way his saliva catches the light as you buck your hips up.

“Prettiest pussy I've ever seen, babygirl. Are you going to let my cock feel it too?”

“Yes, please, daddy?”

Chan has to process the fact that you've called him this. He nearly short-circuits.

“You must want to be my good girl tonight,” he says as he pulls off his hoodie, tossing it aside and unbuttoning his pants.

“I'd give anything to be your good girl, Chan.”

“Anything?”

His fat cock slaps against your wet slit as he holds it firmly. “Anything.” you begin to twist your hips, attempting to grind in a way that will make him slide inside you. You're wet, it's spread everywhere, slicking your inner thighs and cheeks. All it takes is one good thrust, and he can –

“I want this, right here,” his firm taps stop you in place, and his eyes lock onto yours as he pushes his cockhead between your folds, stopping as soon as he's sheathed inside, feeling your walls begging for more. “You feel so wet, baby. Is this for me?” he asks, inching inside until he's halfway in. Chan wants to stop, but the sensation of your walls squeezing him proves to be too much, and he bottoms out inside of you.

“Yes!” You cry out, stronger and louder than you intended, spawning Chan to thrust again, rutting into you. He doesn't always go deep; in fact, he's stroking you at just the right angle to make you see stars as you drag your almond nails down his back, feeling his muscles tense under your touch.

“S-sorry,” you hiss, your head falling against the floor as you cum around his cock. “Keep it up, baby,” he encourages you, “You look so good taking me like this right now, so fucking good.”

"I-I look—"

His firm grip on the strands of your hair at the nape of your neck forces your gaze upwards, compelling you to meet his intense, smoldering eyes.

"Beautiful," he breathes as his thrusts take on a deliberate, measured pace. Each motion propels you closer to the precipice of another orgasm, and you can barely keep your eyes open. His hand presses flat against your head, angling it so you can witness the raw, primal connection between your two bodies. "You look beautiful, say it." You gasp and muster the strength to whisper, "Beautiful," as he introduces two of his fingers to your lips. You eagerly accept them, your tongue tantalizingly caressing the pads of his digits, still bearing traces of your earlier essence. He withdraws his fingers and expertly circles your clit with confident, steady pressure, evoking whimpering pleas from deep within you.

"Such a good girl," he praises with a low, smoky voice, pride lacing every word. "I'm so proud of you, baby. Can you cum again for me? I just wanna see that face one more time.” He wants to etch the vision of your blissed-out expression into the depths of his consciousness, ensuring it's the first thing he sees every morning as he awakens with thoughts of you. Instinctively, you attempt to shield your contorted, furrowed brows with your hands, but Chan swiftly restrains your wrists, pinning them above your head with a powerful grip. His other hand intensifies its attentions to your clit, moving more vigorously. He pairs this with shallow, accurate thrusts,each one striking your g-spot with unerring accuracy, causing you to unravel until you could think no more. You’ve been fucked dumb, for the first time in your life. As you gradually return to your senses, you struggle to find words or even make sense of how another human being can make you feel this extraordinary.

Amidst the haze of your post-orgasmic stupor, a lucid thought pierces through: sex is a potent, heady concoction, a force to be reckoned with.

Then, the second wave of awareness washes over you when you hear Chan's voice, close to your ear, whispering those two potent words, "Good girl." - fin

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perpetualcosmos · 6 months

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Astrology insight on Health & More. Pt 3

*Please not that these are my personal observations and research, not coming yet from a professional opinion*

Now let's get started for Gemini Placements!

---> Body parts ruled by Gemini is... *drum roll please 🥁🥁🥁* --- Throat, Lungs, Breath, Hands And Nervous System!🎶🎶🎶 I, for one, share Gemini/3rd house/Mercury placements in my chart and I can say this with guarantee, these natives love singing, music, might be into Yoga/Meditation/Breathwork, have problems around lungs and breath, are into writing/journaling, intelligent, sharp, multitask, flaky with plans, have a hard time being consistent, are the definition of "too much on my plate*, love learning, into literature, into learning different languages just for fun, have a good sense of humor, might be too faced, have good communication skills, etc.

---> A very important tip I would like to give any Gemini/Mercurial placement native is to journal, write and record audio about whatever is going on, if you would like it to be about your goals, do it. Visions? Absolutely. About feelings? Yes, the best for it. These natives need an outlet to express themselves, similar to their sister sign (Sagittarius), they require freedom of expression of their thoughts. These natives can also be expressive through their hands and might have a loud voice.

---> You by now know I love co-relating Astrological signs with Chakras, so let's mention Mercurial/Gemini/3rd House placements with the Throat chakra. These natives when imbalanced, can get stressed which would result in a strain of their voice, throat infections, hand injuries, could be burned out with their overthinking, might have a shortage of breath, headaches are prominent, might be prone to drinking problems if the chakra is imbalanced or have a fatty liver.

---> These natives always prefer to thrive in a social environment (Subject to change based on other aspects in the chart). They need people to express themselves, their battery gets recharged around people and open areas. They might prefer to go to a library, book store, cyber café or have a study table to focus on their work.

---> The best way to balance your Gemini placements is to learn new things, read and write and be honest with your own self. And remember to do what you like, don't push yourself to be someone you are not and let your humor & joy come in your daily work. Express yourself through your voice and hands. One ick I have noticed in these people are being told to not speak too much - they can't help it, it's literally out of their personality. You enjoy talking and speaking, but learn to listen as well.

---> When undeveloped, these natives always have a tendency to omit the truth or have many personalities according to what other people want them to see as. These natives get bored easily and have a hard time settling down or being consistent with what they do. I say they are more indecisive than libra placements at times. They carry mutable energy, of course they prefer unpredictability and excitement than safety and security.

*Listen, If someone is going to cheat, they will cheat, a placement can indicate it but otherwise it cannot say for sure. People are people, learn to discern them for who they are as well as what is in their chart, balance is key*

--->There is a chance that Gemini natives can cheat if in a relationship that they find themselves being bored off or distinct, but mostly they would prefer to have casual flings/dates or be friends with you first before getting in a commitment. They like the Friends to lovers trope, and usually words of affirmations is one of their love languages, along with a sense of humor. They enjoy spending time with people who can reach their vibe and their light hearted moments. A thing with these natives is the duality comes from this side as well - humor and seriousness. Chances of extremeness is there to a certain extent.

---> Having a Air modality, one of the best things these natives carry is being adaptable to situations and learning to see things step by step. But a difference they carry from their sister sign is that these natives learn to see the next step instead of the bigger picture. They prefer to take the journey on the go rather than as a whole. You work out situations when they appear in front of you, rather than remain constantly over the destination. Think "live in the now" personality with "we'll see how it goes".

---> One thing I always forget to add is that dissociation is common with these natives. You would see them so lost in what they are thinking or speaking without a stop. Often times they don't even realize what they are doing. And Most Gemini placements are nerds, could be into Anime, Dramas, Super Hero content, comedy shows, etc. Sincerely, coming from someone who has Gemini placements who loves k dramas, anime, animation, digital art, online writing this post, and more.

---> Most Gemini Placements are also found to be active on media about their life, memes, vlogs, sharing their opinions, about their work, etc. This depends mostly where these placements are placed in your chart. They might also have to be careful of putting everything out on social media though.

--> Tarot Card associated with them is the Lovers - Hence why we as readers sometimes also say that when the lovers appears in a reading, this could mean you also have many choices In love coming up or even in relationships.

Examples: I have this placement in my chart, specifically I have Moon in Gemini in 6th house - when I tell you I have such a hard time trying to sit down for something serious I be like not today lol but something like astrology always makes me effortlessly work on it and I have vast knowledge on the subject. I also decided it would be "fun" to learn Korean & Japanese in the middle of my exams 💀✋. I personally also have pets and y'all... when I say the dissociation is real with me. I like learning, but I dislike school. I do love reading and writing too (I think most of you can see it as seen by my post right now...). I also have this at the 14 degree (degree of Taurus) so I do likes doodling a lot while I am writing, and the way I am in love with making this in a beautiful format... I also like dressing comfortably when exercising. Another example of this is with Priyanka Chopra's moon in Gemini, which is also conjunct her ascendant in Gemini - I personally also relate to her on so many levels. Definitely someone who enjoys humor and likes acting in dynamic roles. She is someone who speaks often about social topics as well, is active on media about her opinions, and motivates people ahead of her life. Now her moon is in 13 degree (degree of Aquarius), meaning she does have a unique way of expressing herself. She also speaks multiple languages and enjoys humor as well. With her Ascendant conjunct her moon, her first appearance of her being witty, funny, sarcastic, cool persona is her true emotional side. She also likes expressing her vulnerability in an artistic format.

One more example with Gemini placements is the one of Chris Evans with his Gemini Sun in 7th house conjunct his mars in 7th house - No wonder there is always a connection with someone through which he finds his fame at, and vice versa. I definitely can see why pulls off so many roles, and also why he played Captain America in the Avengers Film so well - his character famously known with his love interest Peggy Carter, as well as known with Robert Dowry Jr.'s character Iron Man aka Tony Stark. He also has been known to be with many partners but he does care about them deeply. He is also a prankster who loves humor and his timing is just chef's kiss. His work is very important to him, and he does really well in comic roles in general, or being known with someone on screen. And his voice is also something that carries such a charming nature... definitely the 7th house's impact along with mercury in cancer.

Other examples are Octavia Spencer, Marilyn Monroe, Tom Holland, Jennifer Lawrence, Jake Gyllenhaal, etc.

____________________________

A/N: You guys... I am so grateful for all of your love support and follows <3 Thank you.

*Thank you for being here, and thank you for your love.*

With love and grace ✨🎶

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royallyprincesslilly · 1 year

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Cautionary Tale on Carbon Monoxide

So, for the last 2 weeks or so my smoke alarm/carbon monoxide alarm has been beeping sporadically. I paid it no mind because there was no smoke, nothing was burning and I did not think it could be anything else. I assumed the alarm or batteries were going bad because they had been here forever ago.

So, we changed the batteries and bought a new alarm, and installed them through the house a week ago. The beeping stopped. However, a few days ago while I was cooking the beeping came back. Again, no smoke in the home and nothing was burning. We are searching trying to figure out why it keeps going off.

I constantly have my essential oil diffuser plugged in and running so some searches came back saying certain essential oils might set off the alarm if strong enough and my 16-year-old has been fear rubbing herself with Citronella essential oils(repellent for mosquitoes) because whenever the door opened these new breed mosquitos fly in and she is terrified if her face and body looking like a swollen pepperoni pizza🙄😂. (The concerns of a 16-year-old who was looking out for her upcoming first day of school face card status lmao)

Finally, after some YT videos and Google searches, we began to suspect it was beeping because of carbon monoxide. So we hurry and get out of the house, food still on the stove half cooked, and wait for the gas/electric company to come to investigate and fix the problem.

When the tech comes he walks inside the house and instantly the machine he carried to check the PPM set off a reading of 41. This level is highly dangerous and prolonged exposure can result in health risks and possibly death.😳

He continued to walk through the house and found pockets in the house where the PPM was 38-41(still dangerous). He goes into the kitchen and instantly says, I see your problem. He goes to the stove and points to my favorite, can't live without have used almost every time I cook 11" Copper Chef casserole pot and says this is the culprit.

Apparently, the size of the pot covers my entire burner so there is no ventilation happening under the pot which is bad. He then points to another favorite pot on the back burner and says this one is also bad because of the size of the pot. He turned on the fire under the Copper Chef pot and instantly his machine went up to 144 PPM😳.

I was appalled. He asked about how we all were feeling and asked who the cook in the house was and of course it was me✋🏽. I felt fine. I usually always have headaches and feel tired, he said I could be suffering from long-term carbon monoxide exposure and should go to the hospital to be sure.

To make this longer story just plain ol' long, I say all of this to caution you guys on pot sizes for your gas stove burners and to say it could be the things/ways you least expect.

Tips from the gas/electric company tech

-Make sure your pot is not bigger/wider than your burner flames.

-Turn on your overhead vent or open your kitchen windows when cooking for either or both of these: 1) If your pots are bigger than the burner flames or 2) To take an extra level of safety.

-If you are using bigger pots try to open closet doors throughout your home because the carbon monoxide can creep into the closed closet and remain there for hours.

-In your gas using ovens do not have any liners or protectors(the ones you put down to prevent spills or drips as you bake) on the bottom of the oven if they come anywhere near the two ventilation slits in the oven(where the flames/heat rises).

-If you have done all of the above and constantly feel lightheaded, dizzy, persistent headaches, fatigue, sleepiness, be safe and just get it checked out in the ER or Urgent Care.

Be safe out there y'all. Carbon Monoxide is known as a silent killer.

#PSA #carbon monoxide #cautionary tale #the more you know #Psa: carbon monoxide

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drinkpisser · 2 months

Text

MY HESITANT ALIEN FIC, HOW IT CAME TO BE CHAPTER 1 IS FINALLY DONE!!

(I thinkk!)

thank you to anyone who has been waiting, I really hope you enjoy! :D 🫶 it's been great to make

PREVIOUS CHAPTER (the prologue) :

Like he had mentioned, it was the average summer night, albeit slightly chilly. Gerard had not long settled into the summer camp similar to the other teens who had wandered the woods all day. Even so, he found it difficult to relate to them. His dyed black hair was short and shiny from the humidity of the car ride there, though the streaks of red gleamed nicely in the sun- his eyes were sunken, glued to a drawing pad or species of insect that he would clutch into his hands and inspect, and he found it detrimental to attempt mingling beyond his limited social battery level. He simply wasn't ready to engage in interaction with an unfamiliar face, and I'd say that's pretty understandable. He found it reasonable to head to his dorm early, briefly skittering past the other kids and finding comfort within the spring mattress of the bunkbed.

----------------------------------------------------

CHAPTER 1: ACCEPTANCE

With a sigh, he pulls out a rented comic book he had stashed beneath his pillow. A classic Batman issue, to be precise. As his eyes fluttered from one panel to the other, they grew heavier and heavier- eventually, he had wandered into the land of dreams (with a cameo of laser beams and men in spandex) shockingly early, substituting his stuffed animal at home for a comic book.

Not too long later, murmurs and tiptaps of tired campgoers slid past Gerard's unconscious mind, leaving him in little less of a deep sleep. Goddamnit, he just couldn't get back to it after that. Tossing and turning, time passed slowly. Toss. Nevermind, turn. Toss again. Turn.

What's the use, he thought, before laying still in defeat. Unfortunately, a short while passes by, and Gerard's eyes are still straining shut, unrelaxed.

All of a sudden, a warm, unwarranted apricity fell upon his face. His eyes blink awake in confusion, squinting at the brightness of the mystery orb in the sky. Everyone is asleep. He sits up, with slight haste and panic- how is nobody concerned about this?

A polite whisper of "What the fuck is this?" leaves Gerard's mouth, what a strange prank to pull if it is one, he thought. Of course, like any other naive teenager would, he swiftly leaves the dorms to check it out.

Outside, it's extremely windy; Gerard wished he had brought his blanket with him- rather instead he retrieved a long, wooden stick he found rested against the doorframe (for self defense) like it'll do much against a giant mothership. His messy hair is now messier, the small fringe he once had brushing rapidly left to right in the breeze. As he cautiously strolled past the shelter of safety, he took a deep and dry swallow to build up the already dissolved courage within him. If you asked him, he'd say isn't scared at all, he's had traumatic nightmares worse than this. In other words, he'd be lying through his teeth. It's the middle of the night in a forest, the most intimidating concept ever for a young and vulnerable person. Every step impersonates a cracking eggshell, every blink or twitch of a muscle echoes like a gunshot. Crows flock in an alarmed state, frogs and rats huddle together under drip-tip leaves. Foxes flee in unison with the hedgehogs they were chasing.

Why on earth did he think this was a logical idea? It's a catastrophic idea- which means he's still going to go through with it. Determined, even with shakily numb legs. Thankfully, by now, the occurrence that woke him up is in full view so he can save himself the trouble. He ends up resting against a wooden fence, pausing, gazing in awe at what was above him.

Graphic gleams illuminate the dull night in all colours beyond imagination, sourced from an outstanding construction of metal balanced in the night sky. Almost akin to if they invented a portable northern lights kit that can be used anywhere, it spun slowly, as though it was scanning the strange organism that was staring upon it. The lights from the sides of the cockpit shut off without warning. Sliding doors beneath the ship clang open, sending small sparks flying into the stars.

Red.

It's all red. A red light, aimed directly at Gerard's exposed forehead. It warped the grass to a strange brunette, the buildings to a maroon and the fence he was leaning on to a crimson. An ambiguous voice within that colour told Gerard all he needed to know- run. Get the fuck out of there! The last thing he needed on any historical record of his was "kidnapped by a strange vehicle", and it's sure to be impossible to explain to his parents or the police, so he'd best act quickly!

That he did. Running as quick as his body could take him, wary of hazardous rocks and tree stumps that could screw him over. As predicted, the machine begun chasing. It didn't appear to be hostile- shooting or sending out traps that could catch him, it just.. chased. Gerard looks back, pathetically lunging the wooden stick at the fortified metal. The machine looks behind itself in confusion and unphased, leaving Gerard puzzled. Did it even know what was going on? Was it just playing copycat to toy with him?

Nonetheless, he continues to sprint more than he ever had planned to at this stay. Absolutely terrifying.

SPLASH!!

Brilliant, just great! He's gone and fell in a swampy puddle, grazing his knees on sharp ground. His hands sting, but he endures, forcing himself to ignore the hisses of agony as he gets back up. Limping like a champion, he struggles his way into a nearby porta potty. Not the most hygienic or convenient but this is a pretty rational situation to be complaining.

Once he was inside, he realised there isn't much at all he can do to improve his pain. He grabs the half used, thin toilet paper and wraps it around his wounds, begging his senses to blind him from the putrid smell of the enclosure he's settling in. Petrified of leaving, he crafts a makeshift blanket out of his comfort hoodie, placing his pins and badges to the side. Because he is wearing shorts, he resorts to a foetal position to successfully contain the warmth of the hoodie blanket, also creating a third useful tool of a gas mask with the hood itself. He looks ridiculous. He surely feels it. Yet exhaustion had hit him like a pile of bricks; he soon falls back to his state of slumber in here. In a summer camp bathroom. Wrong. It's worse than that, a porta potty with barely any space. The interview from the prologue was right- you really couldn't make this shit up.

The next morning flows by perfectly. Birds sing a harmony, everyone is well rested. The ideal summers day, unless you're the nerd snoozing away in the trashy, unused camp toilet. The door is about to be unlocked by a relatively unhappy janitor who is definitely not paid enough for this... Dare I say, shit?

The door cracks open with a thud, hitting a filthy Gerard on the side.

"Oh, what, the door's jammed again?" The janitor complains before seeing the adolescent. His wrinkly eyes tweak, and he holds back several cuss words in surprise.

"Get up. Come on," he snaps, dragging Gerard out by the arm. Groaning, he shoves the cleaner away and composes himself.

"Look, I can explain- I was being chased by some spaceship! It was seriously a fuckin' mess. I'm covered in cuts from it- see?!" Gerard then shows him his battle scars from that mighty fall he took.

"Yeah, well, alcohol isn't allowed here. Being chased by aliens isn't a solid alibi either. Trust me, I tried it," The janitor snarls nonchalantly, sighing, "just get back to campus and clean up."

He shuts the porta potty door. Damn, he must be responsible for that tragic leftover shit-stench.

Gerard frowns. This, he did not consider. Going back to everyone- the people he'd barely even brushed past, without introducing himself the way he wanted. Now they're all going to know him for sure. Probably call him stupid names, humiliate him and such.

However, if it wasn't for who emerged next, he could have cried a river.

A chirpy, curious voice.

"Dude, I don't mean to embarrass you but did you get lost in the sewers?" the voice chuckles.

Letting out a small shriek, Gerard turns around.

An approachable looking young man stood before him, shuffling his feet with a sense of innate awkwardness. The boy was surprisingly tall for his age, and had the most wonderful curly locks of hair Gerard had ever seen. Somehow he knew by the shirt he was wearing that they'd hit it off straight away. Any sense of shame Gerard had dissipated, as the subject of music is one he exceeds in. Maybe this was his perfect chance to finally befriend somebody here!

"Holy shit," Gerard smiles, "The Smashing Pumpkins? I love their music, man."

"Ah, so we aren't gonna adress my question? Alright! Yeah, I listen to them a lot. I know a few songs on guitar too." He replies, impressed.

"My name is Ray. Weird circumstance, but you're pretty neat and... certainly interesting! Wanna be friends?"

Bingo, that was easy. Gerard almost exploded in excitement that his band tactic worked, but he resorted to a chilled nod and kick of a pebble.

"Yeah, sounds cool. Name's Gerard...

Uh, I would explain why I'm covered in mud and probably shit too but I don't wanna be accused of drinking by somebody I barely know again..." he mumbles.

"It's fine- I know a way we can get to the showers without passing anybody. Then I'm so down to hear all about this!" Ray chuckles ecstatically before wandering off.

"I suppose i have no choice but to follow, or else my ass'll get kicked by that janitor." Reluctantly, Gerard trails behind his new buddy, sneaking past anything that looked like a person or member of staff (not to say they arent people or anything, they're just a hindrance at this certain moment in time).

"At least I can get a laugh outta this in a few years," he monologues to himself whilst hiding behind a tree.

Ray slowly turns, confused both as to whether he was being spoken to or not and the fact this douche is pretending to be a tree.

"Yeah.." He smiles, unable to conceal a short burst of laughter.

They continue on their miniature voyage, finally making it to the shower room unscathed. The two wave a slightly uncomfortable goodbye, and Ray takes a seat outside, twiddling his thumbs.

A short while later, Gerard walks out, thankfully no longer covered in mud. He smiles, greeting Ray once again.

"Thanks for waiting," he says, holding his clean hand out for a handshake. Ray, with the reassurance that there is no more mud, shakes it.

"No problem, you wanna head to camp? I'm pretty sure it's lunchtime."

"Sounds like a plan." Gerard adjusts the geeky pins on his hoodie, making his way to the benches.

At the benches, there sits a group of four. Gerard avoids direct contact with their faces at first, in the dire case that he's only there for a small punchline. Ray introduces them all, but the names don't stick. Nerves have struck Gerard's mind like a vigorous thunder, preventing him from paying his most full attention. Nodding does the trick, so he just went along with it. After sitting and shuffling, attention once again falls to Gerard through a demanding whisper in the ear.

"What happened to you, then?" Ray enquires.

"No judgement, alright? I can barely get my own head around it," Gee releases an intense sigh. It seemed to go quiet, or was it just his imagination?

"I was chased by strange figures in a giant ship looking thing. It was beautiful at first until I thought I was going to die. It seemed to be after me specifically, and I almost fell right into it's trap whilst everybody else was fast asleep."

Ray's expression dropped like an astounded cat. Maybe Gerard had forgotten to use his indoor voice due to the exterior surroundings of the forest, but the whole table had suddenly earwigged. Silence had truly struck this time. A brief calm before the storm, so to speak.

Laughter invades the air like poison in an airvent. The barricades of comfort were banished and giggles screeched like nails on a chalkboard. Shame for ever saying a single word ever dawned on Gerard with a pile of regret.

"This dude's nuts!" a preppy girl whines.

"Whatever he's on, I want it.." a curtain-banged boy adds.

"Why'd you bring this freak here?" some jerkwad adds.

"Hey now, come on- he's just got here! If it wasn't aliens, it was surely something." Ray defends, but it's futile.

Its settled. He's done for. Gerard's done for. He knows full well, ducking down in silence. Just like he had worried, it isn't working. He's alone at this place, and not in the preferred introverted way he'd wished.

He could die here alone.

He could die alone point blank.

That being recognised, he grabs his satchel teary-eyed and rushes off. Being accused of lying when all you speak is truth crucially damages your self assurance, your fragile confidence, your efficacy as a living, breathing person. Usually it wouldn't phase Gerard at all, but salt had definitely been rubbed into those vunerable wounds. I mean, without a doubt it's a phenomenal story to tell to a stranger. Chased by aliens and all that junk. Yet what a laughing stock he'd become in his vacant mind, weeping his heart out behind the main office he fled and hid behind.

He wanted to go home, back to his younger brother and cluttered bedroom. Back to the dainty hallway filled with shelves of vintage dolls and trinkets. Back to his drawing desk and flickering lamp. Day one and he was already through with it all. He'd rather not get out at all than suffer another minute pretending he's enjoying himself in the cruel wilderness.

Without warning, the overwhelming stream of thoughts cut off with that same chirpy voice, however this time it approached gently.

"Thank god I found you, really. I didn't mean for all that to happen-" he's soon interrupted the blinded humiliation of Gerard's anger.

"Screw that! It was your plan all along to put me in the social shit. You just wanted me to look decent whilst you did it! They clearly ain't impressed by you on your own so the nearest idiot you found made the cut! I get it! Rub it in some more." He scrapes words through tears so warm that they're steaming, almost not completely aware of what he's spewing.

Ray's pleading face grows in distress; it's true that the people he'd lingered with weren't the most welcoming of friends. He'd just happened to have met them during a group activity and thought they we're right for him. He was never in their group, he was just with their group. In that moment, he was willing to sacrifice them all for someone he'd not long met after seeing an unusual spark in his eyes that they didn't posess. Aware of the room that needed to be read, he sits a fair distance from Gerard, quiet.

A few minutes pass by consisting of Gee huddled up within himself and Ray staring with guilt.

Forcing out his voice once more, Ray apologises.

"I've needed that lecture for a while, really. They're full of shit. I honestly just wanted to help you out- I thought they'd find you cool just like I did, you like similar stuff to them-" Ray rambles and trips on his words, desperate for an understanding response.

Fortunately, Gerard had calmed enough to not verbally vomit every thought in his brain this time.

"... I know," he reassures, "I just didn't wanna mess this up, yknow. The reason why I was brought here by my parents was so I could experience more things and a big part of that was a need to be liked," loathing away at himself, Ray listens and "mhms" until he can barely restrain his words any longer...

"I believe you."

"What?" Gerard's head perks up in disbelief.

"We don't need them to either, if more than one person believes then it's credible. Something in space is out there and you we're lucky enough to discover it, Gerard!" Ray forms a contagious smile as he speaks, erupting excitement as he does.

"I suppose.." a glum smirk passes Gerard's face, quickly turning to a grin. "Alright."

The two stand together and hug it out, walking back from the secluded area at the same pace, yapping all the time away whilst skipping day classes.

The afternoon quickly fades to the evening, the sunset tainting the busy perimeter with a sense of euphoria. All throughout that time, Gerard couldn't help but participate in small ventures of the camp activites with slight eagerness, collecting logs and sticks for the bonfire at the highest speed he could maneuver. As the fire erupted, he watched the flames dance with fascination. Being a self proclaimed pyromaniac and all, it helped him relax.

Even with a time of turmoil ahead, a deep puzzle within him had been solved, a message he needed to hear ever since the trainwreck of last night slammed its breaks.

That somebody believed in him.

[ end of chapter 1 ! ]

#brits4gerardway

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thetorturedbuckydepartment · 3 months

Text

chapter ten: i don't want you like a best friend

pairing: Bucky barnes x plus-sized!reader

summary: Six months ago, you were appointed to be Head Nurse to the Avengers by Tony Stark. Every day, you count your lucky stars, knowing the horrible past you quickly ditched back in England. It holds you back, restrains you, from getting close to anyone when on your new job.

That's until you met and fell in love with Bucky Barnes. The supposed assassin with a heart of gold, who seems to be eager to get to know you. To peel back your layers piece by piece, but could you trust him once you're laid before him raw and vulnerable?

masterlist

PREVIOUS PART -- CHAPTER NINE: TRUTH, DARE, SPIN BOTTLES

warnings: language, self-deprecation, making out like horny teenagers, very light dry humping, blood and stitches, Bucky being feral and a dom

word count: 2.1k

Taglist: @scott-loki-barnes @cjand10 @blackwidownat2814 @blackbirdwitch22 @laughterafter @blackhawkfanatic @mcira @bxckybxrnes24 @rachellovesloki @toffeacademia @bean-bean2000 @lana525 @selella @lalalalokii

A/N: oh god I love this chapter!! and that's a wrap on guilty as sin? folks!! ive enjoyed writing this fanfic as a form of escapism from exams so much, and the love and support ive received is much more than I was hoping for, and im absolutely in love with every single one of you! there will be a bonus chapter uploaded this time next week, and the very final chapter will come out a bit after that....until then, keep your eyes peeled for a very special, very new surprise that I've been working on!!

The rest of the night is spent with the both of you in flushed silence, both knowing that you stand on the same shore, face to face. But neither takes a step forward.

Why are you so scared? Where had all your self-confidence gone? But his hands don’t leave you, and neither do yours. You decide to take an early night, reminding Bucky he needs a good night’s sleep if he wants to get better, as if he isn’t already in perfect, tip-top condition, just with some pink marks that will disappear with the moon.

Even the motorcycle ride back to the compound is silent. But not awkward, and you revel in the time you can rest your head against the nape of his neck and just breathe, listening to the sounds of the city pass you by. It’s extremely peaceful, to have Bucky’s warmth envelope you without a single sound to overstimulate after your social battery has run out. When he unclips your helmet for you, his hands are right back on your face.

“It’s me, isn’t it?” The cold wind nips at your cheeks as you stare like you’ve been caught in a lie. But what’s the point in holding out now? In denying what’s clear as day to everyone?

“Okay, maybe we should go inside first, come on.” Bucky’s noticed you shivering, standing there in a summer dress and forgoing common sense in layering for fashion.

“What’s you?” You ask, feigning innocence as a default safety mechanism, as Bucky leads you by the hand to his room. Your heart is in your throat, pounding harder and harder with every step you take towards the bedroom, where it would just be…the two of you. You try and swallow.

“You were starin’ at me while singing that sexy song, doll. I’m not stupid.” He closes the door behind you with his metal arm, and in doing so traps you against it. You stare straight up, heat rising to your cheeks at his inevitable closeness. You need him closer. Your lips part, and the confession flies right out of the red lips he can’t stop staring at.

“Fine! Yes, Bucky. It’s you. You’re the one that I have a crush on.” You feel yourself tremble, wondering what will happen next. And so, you employ your most familiar defence mechanism.

“But I don’t want to ruin what we have already, as friends. That’s why I’ve been trying to avoid it, and to not tell you. Because, well, you’re my best friend. I don’t want to fuck that up by confessing I want you, I—.”

“What if I don’t want you like a best friend? What if I want you more, far beyond that? Have you ever once considered how obviously it’s painted all over my face that I’m completely taken by you?”

Your mouth drops open in shock. Despite the way everyone’s been teasing the both of you for months, you didn’t expect it to be real. You didn’t expect it to be such a fire, that when you look at him and into his eyes you see the flames lighting him ablaze, in just the way they’ve taken you.

“I…Bucky—.”

“You’re beautiful. You’re kind, you’re talented. You have a smile that could melt the fucking Arctic, and a heart that puts a saint to shame. Doll, it’s you. You’re the one I want, you’re the only one I’ve ever wanted. You’re the only one I’ve ever needed like this, like it physically hurts me to be away from you for even a second. I— I’m yours. Completely, utterly, and probably a bit pathetically, yours. Always have been, always will be.”

And you believe him. Your brain puts itself into overdrive trying to figure out ways this could be a con, a get-love-quick scheme he’s the charming salesman for, but it comes out blank. Your heart wins and desire consumes and you just can’t anymore.

“Kiss me.” It’s barely more than a whisper, but the two of you are so close, of course he hears it. He can hear your heart, and smell every part of you, from your intoxicating perfume to your pheromones. It’s driving him feral, wild. It has from the very first second he saw you, trying your best to stay balanced on a rickety ladder, so lost in thought you didn’t hear him come in and almost trip over his feet at the sight of you.

And so, for once, Bucky Barnes lets go. Of his worries that he cannot be the man you deserve, of his fears that he will hurt you. Temporarily, at least. And his body spurs him on, tells him to close the distance and just act.

You blink, and then his mouth is on yours.

Your arms instinctively wrap around his neck, pulling him right into you because every atom’s worth of space between the two of you feeling like a fucking chasm, and you can’t help but sigh. For once, you got what you wanted. You got who you wanted.

His mouth tastes so sweet, a lingering hint of the cherry coke he was nursing all night all over his lips and it’s making your brain short circuit. His hands are on your face and then in your hair and then just blindly grabbing, pulling you as tightly to him as he physically can while he tastes, tastes the sweet nectar of reciprocation right off the lips he’s been dying to kiss all night. Like you’re a sacred artefact he’s been begging for his whole life to be able to touch, just once.

Both of your hearts beat in tandem, pressed so close together than it’s almost like you desire to become one entity. And it drives you up the wall when he groans against your teeth, showing you just how much he’s enjoying this. Your head is beginning to spin, and you just need more.

All your life you’ve been made to feel shame about sex and sexuality just because nobody is expected to be sexually attracted to you. And in one single sound from Bucky’s throat, all those notions are dispelled, cast away. You are wanted, you are cherished. You are valued, standing between Bucky’s warm hands and knowing there is no other place he’d rather be than against your mouth, desperately trying to melt the two of you together into one person so you never feel distance ever again.

He reluctantly pulls away first, feeling his chest burn from the lack of oxygen. He suspects you feel the same as him, maybe even worse, and he breaks your lips apart, reveling in the whine that slips past yours, a protest of the disconnection.

“You okay?” He asks, as you take in deep breaths, staring into his cobalt eyes that look almost black with how much his pupils are dilated.

You nod vigorously. “Please, Buck. I need more. I need you.” You all but beg, the grip on his shoulders tightening as you pull him close.

“You also need to breathe baby.” His thumb ghosts over your lips as you pant, and you realise you’re being too needy. It’s probably putting him off, and it makes your cheeks flush with embarrassment.

You’re being too much.

“Oh, I— Sorry, I’ll calm down, I didn’t mean to be too much—.”

His thumb slips past your lips and begins to caress your tongue, pressing down on it as a way of effectively shutting you up.

“Oh no. Don’t apologise, baby. I can’t get fucking enough of you. But I also don’t want you to pass out on me, doll. Can’t have that, can we? Just need you to catch your breath, then we can go right back to what we were doing, yeah?” His eyes are so dark, and his voice is so low, that it’s turning you on beyond compare.

You moan, and his expression shifts. You wonder if he hates the sound. “Fuck, do that again.” You let your eyes flutter shut and you heed his command. You’d do anything he asked of you, if he says it in this same tone he’s using in this moment.

“Fuck. You sound so pretty, baby. All for me?” Your heart is beating out of your chest, begging to be freed, for you to get what you want.

“Yeah. All for you, Bucky. Always for you.” You tug at his wrist, pulling him closer into you. God, he’s just never close enough.

He kisses you again, and you almost sob, giving in. He’s more frenetic, hungry, this time. Anything soft and sweet he was planning to tease you with has now long evaded his mind, now claiming your mouth as his. He grabs at your thighs, encouraging you to wrap them around his waist, and you do so.

Forgetting any limitations that may have been in place, if Bucky were a normal man. But he’s not.

And you’re too far gone to care. He walks the both of you backwards, and then sits down on the edge of the bed before he turns, laying your head comfortably on the pillows as he hovers above you, between your thighs. Your hips roll upwards, rubbing against his crotch, and then he moans against your mouth, pulling your bottom lip between both of his.

You grip him even tighter, nails practically ripping through the leather when every part of you is suddenly too warm, and Bucky all but rips himself away from you.

You gasp, staring at his pink lips now completely covered in your red, swollen from the bruise of the kiss. “Bucky? What—.”

“Your hand. It’s bleeding.”

“Huh? No it’s—“ You pull your hand off of him and note the maroon colour, quite quickly seeping through the bandage. “Oh shit. How’d you know?” You ask, pushing at his chest so the both of you can sit. He kneels between your legs as you balance yourself on your hand, staring at the other one. You guess you must have ripped your stitches open, and that means…a trip to the infirmary. Looking like a hot mess.

Bucky watches you, drowning in his guilt that fills his lungs with polar molecules of I’m sorry and nothing else. “I think I ripped a stitch or two, I’ll need to go down to the medbay. Denise is on shift tonight, hopefully she won’t be too pissed at the sight of me.” You smile at him.

“Can I go with you?” You nod, and indicate for him to let you get up.

“Before we get down there, we need to wipe our faces, love. My damn lipstick’s not kiss proof after all.” You chuckle, gently cradling your hand as you stand. “Let me do it, please.” His eyes have grown somber, so far removed from the situation in his pants. You soften, feeling horrible at having brought it up again.

Once he’s done cleaning your face, you voice your feelings. “I’m sorry, Buck. First it was Tony, now this. I promise I’m not doing this on purpose to make you feel bad, you know you’re not to blame, right?”

He smiles, placing a kiss on your now bare lips, soft and sweet and understanding. “I know. The guilt’s still gonna kill me, but it’s not because of you, doll. I know.” He presses a quick kiss to your cheek before putting one warm hand on the small of your back as he guides you to the infirmary, insisting on pulling all the doors on the way for you like nothing’s automated in this place. He even lets you sit on his lap while you get patched up, explaining to Denise that he’s here as your emotional support.

He’s with you every step of the way, as you get back to your rooms and he pulls you back into his, to his warm bed that’s too large for a man to sleep alone in, settling behind you with his warm chest against your back. He’s taken to muttering soft praises and compliments against the shell of your ear until you fall asleep.

He holds your injured hand in his metal one, completely encapsulating it so you won’t hurt yourself in your sleep.

And he does it all as more than your best friend.

But would he consider himself your lover? Your boyfriend?

You dream away the hours, full of red hot lust entanglements and ice-cream sweet love confessions with the man currently spooning you.

He listens to your heartbeat to calm him, as he too falls asleep in your safe hold, knowing exactly where he’s found himself, in this bed with you.

Home.

BONUS PART

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x plus size reader #x plus size reader #marvel #k's writing corner

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buggywiththefolkmagic · 10 months

Text

Only YOU Can Prevent Witchy Fires

Hello witches, workers, and all in between! Your friendly neighborhood Granny is here to teach you a few things about fire safety!

Yes, yes, I know. “But Buggy, this is tumblr! And you're on a boring witchcraft blog! What do we need a lesson on fire safety for? We aren’t in kindergarten!” But trust me! More than one witch has accidentally singed their hair or set their own altar on fire before! Sometimes we get so into the spiritual that we forget to be mindful of the reality around us.

I’m going to go over a bundle of good tips to keep in mind for making a wax seal over that spell jar or burning a few bay leaves or ingredients to release that nonsense into the air! Even a section for the kitchen witches!

Indoor Safety:

*Those annoying fire alarms? Make sure they are operational okay? Change those batteries at least once a year, preferably twice. (If it is something you are in control of.)

*Always use a fire-safe candle holder for candles! Trim down that wick before lighting! I know it seems silly to use a pair of scissors or a wick trimmer, but trimming down that wick will always make that flame much easier to manage. And that flame? If it gets big enough to cause black smoke ALWAYS put it out.

*Always keep the candle in your line of sight, no meditation with an open flame going okay? Also if your candle is big enough to burn for more than four hours...put it out at the 4 hour mark.

*The longer a candle burns the more carbon gathers on the wick itself and that can make the flame get bigger and more unstable. Those ultra-wobbly flames that flicker and waves like one of those wacky inflatable arm flailing tube men? That is something you don’t want.

*Putting out a candle: We don’t recommend putting it out with your fingers no matter how cool it looks. Use a candle snuffer, or blow it out. I promise blowing out a deity candle won’t insult them!

*Another crucial tip is to keep anything that could catch fire a minimum of three feet or 91 centimeters AWAY from the fire source. That includes carpeted flooring, cloth, hair, rugs, altar cloths, papers, books, all sorts of things! Always wear your hair back when working with fire, and wear close fitting clothing that won’t hang or drape into the fire with your movements.

*Another tip given straight from the NSC is to NEVER use candles or other fire sources while tired or inebriated! That means no 2 am spell jars if you are half asleep! ALSO never EVER leave a candle WARM or actively BURNING! Same goes for any items you are burning down like bay leaves. Burn them in a fire safe bowl that is much bigger than you think you need. Toss the debris around and soak in water to ensure they are safely doused.

*IF you are using wax to seal off spell jars I highly suggest getting a wax sealing kit! Wax sealing kits come with a little spoon that you drop bits of wax into and ‘melt’ them down over something like a tea candle. An example is this: Which you can find on Amazon for roughly $10 USD!

The spoon is perfect for pouring and there’s less likelihood of the candle you would sit on top of the jar from falling off because...there is no candle! If you only have a candle to work with...please don’t burn the candle on top of the object you are sealing, put the candle in a safe holder and hold it over the object once warm to let the wax drip down. Have the object you are sealing sitting on top of a safe ceramic plate or bowl in case of drippage!

But what do I do if a fire starts?

Good question! That depends on the type of fire it is! Here’s a breakdown of the types and methods to put them out: Ordinary Fire: An ordinary fire is caused by candles, papers, cloth, plastics, that sort of thing!

The good news is these types of fires respond amazingly well to plain old water! It’s always advised that you keep a bucket or pitcher full of water within reach whenever using candles just in case!

Electric Fire: Electric fires are caused by a source of electricity, like wires getting crossed and arching.

NEVER use water on an electrical fire! If you do, you'll just electrocute yourself. If it’s safe to do so...unplug the object from the outlet. Turn off the electricity in your house’s electric breaker box. Smother the flames by pouring baking soda onto them.

Chemical Fire: Chemical fires have a chemical as a fuel source, like rubbing alcohol, nail polish & polish remover. Even your nails near a candle can produce a small chemical fire if you aren’t careful! (Dry those nails up good before using candles.) These fires can only be put out with a fire blanket OR pouring a LARGE quantity of baking soda or sand onto the fire.

Cooking Fires: Cooking fires are the most common form of household fire. It can be caused by grease, burning food, or burning cooking oil. Water will NOT work on any fire oil or grease based, it may seem like a first instinct to grab the pan and toss it into a sink with water...DON’T.

That will cause the oil to splatter and can injure you and make any flames spread further! It the fire is small enough and contained within a pot or skillet, have a lid or baking sheet handy and throw that onto the top of the fire, this will smother it out. A fire blanket can also be used for this. Do NOT swat at the flames, this is just a fanning motion and will give the fire more oxygen to grow with! Pour a large amount of salt or baking soda on top of the fire. MAKE SURE it is not flour, as flour will cause the fire to grow quick enough to even explode! Turn off any heat source.

And if the fire is in the oven or microwave? Leave that door CLOSED. It seems super scary but the fire will smother itself out when trapped in a small box. (Of which both cooking items are.)

Outdoor Safety:

Never burn outdoors if it is windy or extra dry! Do not burn general trash, only burn natural dry vegetation/herbs. Always check your local ordinances and make sure there are no burn bans in your area currently active!

If you are going to burn outside, clear away a circular space for the burning items. Far enough away from overgrowth, houses, powerlines, and other such things. The burning site should have plenty of dirt or gravel around it, usually around 10 feet, 304 centimeters circular if burning a campfire-size burning space. Make sure the dirt and gravel is well doused in water to prevent any spreading.

Always stay around the fire until it is completely out. Turn the debris from your burn a few times and douse it hard with water. NEVER leave dry ash on the ground, embers could be still warm enough to catch on the inside of the ash! Keep checking on that burn area for a few days or a few weeks to make sure nothing is left, especially during warmer or dryer months. Don’t toss matches or other lighting instruments just anywhere! Those can still be warm and still catch grass alight.

And there you have it! A crash course on being safe with fire while doing your thing and slinging your spells!

#witchblr #psa #witchcraft #buggy's lessons #witchcraft for beginners #beginner witch #fire safety is important folks!

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jiraisupportgroup · 4 days

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♡ Hurricane Preparedness ♡

Some of you guys might be in the southeastern United States & preparing for Hurricane Helene - if so please be safe!! ₊‧°𐐪♡𐑂°‧₊ We’re all here for you and hoping things go smoothly!’

I’m a bit late on this considering I think it makes landfall tomorrow morning BUT if you still have time: here’s some tips on what you can help do to prepare yourself for a hurricane ♡

1) Stay Informed!

One of the most important things is staying in the loop! This way if an evacuation notice is filed or flooding or any other major things happen you’re aware and not caught off guard.

2) Stay Connected!

Keep in contact with your loved ones & acquaintances. Even if it’s just a “checking in” text, you want to make sure everyone is safe & if anyone needs help they can receive it as soon as possible!

3) Prioritize Your Safety!

For some areas that don’t have evacuation notices (and especially if you work or go to college) some places of business / schools may choose to stay open. If your work or school stays open and you don’t feel safe going: DON’T GO. Your safety is much more important than your job or school.

4) Be Prepared!

Even if you’re not in an area that needs to be evacuated - you may not want to leave the house for a few days for safety reasons! Heavy rain can be very dangerous: cars hydroplane very easily, trees / power lines may fall, power may go out. It is much safer to either stay home or stay with family or a friend if that’s an option. Things you will want to have on hand in case anything goes awry include:

♡ Flashlight & batteries

♡ Water bottles

♡ Basic hygiene items (toothbrush, toothpaste, baby wipes)

♡ Portable phone charger

♡ Food! Easy things that don’t require cooking like granola bars, snack packs, apples, bread, etc.

♡ Change of clothes

♡ Pet food / items

♡ First Aid Kit (it doesn’t have to be extensive but at least some bandaids & antibacterial ointment)

If you’re in an area that you suspect is going to be hit HARD, make sure you identify what areas of your house are the safest - away from any windows & power outlets (often the bathroom). Make sure you keep as much water on hand as possible. If you need to you can use towels to block off the bottoms of doorways and windows to help keep water from getting inside. Unplug any electronics you’re not using to prevent frying them in the event of a lighting strike or minor flooding. Try to avoid sleeping in rooms near trees that show danger of falling, generally if you stay towards the center of your home that’s the safest ♡

5) Take Care of Yourself!!

Hurricanes are stressful!! And scary!! But that’s okay!! You’re not in this alone & it won’t last forever. Keep items on hand that bring you comfort like your favourite stuffed animal, book, podcast, blanket, anything that’s going to help you feel safe during this time ♡ it’s going to be okay!! And if you need distraction or comfort we’re here for you ₊‧°𐐪♡𐑂°‧₊

Stay safe everyone ♡

#jiraiblr #landmineblr #resource #hurricane

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askgildaseniors · 21 days

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youtube

Learn how to teach your dog to drop it with this comprehensive dog training video! Discover step-by-step instructions on how to train your dog to drop it using positive reinforcement techniques. Whether you're working with a puppy or an adult dog, mastering the drop it command is essential for obedience training and ensuring your dog's safety. Watch as professional dog trainer Brett Endes demonstrates puppy training 101 tips and tricks, including how to use a tug toy effectively. Brett covers everything from dog training tips to professional insights on how to teach your dog to let go and improve their overall obedience. Perfect for anyone interested in puppy training or seeking dog training drop it command guidance. Start training your dog today and add the drop it command to your training toolbox!

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#Youtube

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angstyaches · 24 days

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The Hexagon: Part Five

Parts One-Two | Part Three | Part Four

Note: Thank you to anyone who's been following this mini plot! This is the last instalment in terms of getting them to safety, but there is an aftermath/recovery fic or two (or three?) in the works.

CW: effects of hunger/exhaustion, dangerous driving (driving while way too tired, do not do it), nausea, insecurity.

___

“Charlie.”

The lines on the road swam back and forth, like eels moving through water. The white of the paint made no sense. It was as though Charlie’s eyes had to mix up a bunch of colours every few seconds to keep the white looking white.

“Charlie, pull over.”

Next to the steering wheel, an empty Coke bottle tipped from side-to-side in the cup holder. Charlie had found it there, half-full and lukewarm, when they’d gotten back to the car. He had gulped half of what was left before passing it to Shayne, and the sugar entering his system had felt like jumping into a cold swimming pool on a hot day – invigorating. It might have been sitting in his stomach like a ball of lead, but the energy boost had made Charlie feel invincible.

For all of a few seconds. Long enough for him to feel somewhat okay about getting behind the wheel.

Charlie blinked. The white line snaked under the car. It wasn't supposed to do that.

“Charlie!” Shayne snapped. “Did you hear me? I’ve got a signal, pull over.”

Right... Right, the plan had been to drive until one of their phones had enough battery to switch on, and there were enough bars to make a phone call. Charlie had been so caught up in simply keeping the tyres between the shifting lines that all of the other details had fallen out of his head.

He flicked the indicator. He knew he had to check his mirrors, but for a gut-wrenching second, he wasn’t quite sure where they were. He found them, checked them all twice, glanced over his shoulder to make extra sure the road was clear.

The second he had switched off the ignition, his whole body slumped. His lungs deflated from holding in a huge breath, as though he’d been underwater for the entire duration of the drive so far.

“Sorry,” Charlie said.

“It's fine,” Shayne said quietly. He had Charlie's phone in one hand, connected to the charging port. His other hand was squeezing around the edge of the passenger seat, knuckles white, even now that the car had stopped. “You got us here. You did it.”

Charlie wasn’t sure if it had been a few seconds, minutes, or a half hour since they’d retrieved the car from the edge of the forest and followed the country lanes out to the main road. The white road markings were no longer whizzing past, but his eyes kept tricking him into thinking they were still crawling along, like skinny little conveyor belts laid out on the tarmac.

He felt very much like he did after four or five beers. That was only a gut-churning thought if he focused on the fact that he’d just been operating a moving vehicle, so he decided not to. He closed his eyes. It was the only way he could stop colours from mixing and lines from crawling.

“Hello?” a tinny voice asked.

The sharp jolt of fear in his chest let Charlie know he’d dozed off, dipping into microsleep with the steering wheel pressing into his forehead. He had to quickly remind himself that he had already parked the car.

“H-hey,” Shayne said into the phone. His hands were trembling so badly that he was using both of them to keep the phone against his ear. Charlie wanted to reach over and squeeze his leg for comfort, but couldn’t find the strength.

“Shayne, is that you?”

Charlie opened his eyes a crack. He would never have thought he’d be so happy to hear Elliott’s voice; but for the past day, he hadn't thought he'd ever hear another voice again, besides his own and Shayne's.

“Um, yeah, it’s me, I –”

“Oh my god, you little –?”

Shayne winced and held the phone further away. He turned down the volume and brought it back towards his ear, staring straight through the windscreen. He let Elliott ramble for a few more seconds. He looked like he was struggling to draw breath.

“Charlie and I got caught in something,” he said. “No, El, I mean we were actually... fucking stuck. There was this – this trap, set up to catch demons, and it – it worked on us. We couldn’t get out.”

“Excuse me?” Even with the volume reduced, Charlie heard that clear as day from Elliott's end.

“Could you come and get us?” Shayne’s voice broke. He had held it together long enough to get Charlie to the car, to support Charlie through the drive to the main road, but now he was crumbling, and Charlie’s heart felt like it was being wrung out. “Please, Elliott, we’re – we’ve got Charlie’s dad’s car, but Charlie’s not... doing good. He m-might be in shock or something, I don't know. And we're just...”

Charlie’s stomach twisted.

“I wouldn’t usually ask, you know that. But he’s –” Shayne froze. He shrank a little in the passenger seat. By the time Elliott had finished talking back to him, his eyes were bright with tears. “Okay. Yeah. Sending it now.”

Before they hung up, Charlie thought he heard ‘be there soon’.

It seemed like a big promise to make; Elliott didn’t even know where they were yet. Charlie knew Elliott could travel at unnatural speeds, but surely there were limits to a power like that. Charlie could usually ramble on about Elliott and his recklessness until the cows came home, but right now, even that didn’t hold any appeal.

He just wanted to sleep. The thought of his own bed still being so far away made tears well up in his eyes. He felt like a toddler, ready to sob until someone could put him down for a nap.

As soon as he had slid the phone onto the dashboard, Shayne hugged his arms to his waist. He shut his eyes, grimacing, and drew a long, shaky breath.

He was falling to pieces just like Charlie, but he’d somehow managed to hold it together long enough to get them to safety, to make sure help was on the way.

Charlie hesitated. Maybe the kindest thing to do was to just pretend, to let Shayne think he was breaking down privately, but Charlie couldn’t do it. He was drained, empty, probably in shock, and yet staying down would have been the hardest thing in the world for him to do.

“Lovely,” he murmured.

Shayne jumped, rolling his eyes as he glanced away for a few seconds. His shoulders hunched as he turned back towards Charlie. “Are you okay?”

Charlie opened his mouth but could only manage a breathless sigh. Of course he wasn’t okay, but admitting it would have felt like punching Shayne in the gut, so he didn’t. He pushed his shoulders into the seat and tilted his head back. It wasn’t as easy on his exhausted muscles as flopping against the steering wheel had been, but at least there was no pressure on his head.

“Um...” Shayne glanced towards the phone. “Elliott’s go – going to come and get us.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” Shayne reached over and cupped Charlie’s thigh. If he hadn't been so sure that he would flop as soon as his weight shifted, Charlie would have leaned across the seats to put his head on Shayne's shoulder. God, he had spent so much of his time in the hexagon lying on his back or his side, and still Charlie’s body and brain just longed to be horizontal, to go limp.

“Tired?”

A dull ache pulsated throughout Charlie's bones. “So tired.”

“El's gonna drive,” Shayne mumbled. “You could move to the back seat and try to sleep. If you want?”

“Mmm.” The back seat. Charlie hadn’t even thought of that. He let himself out through the drivers’ side door, propping his arm against the side of the car. The scampering white lines on the road made his head swirl until he turned away from them.

He climbed into the back seat.

After a moment of fresh air, he realised how sickly warm the air inside the car was, after days of being parked up. Charlie's insides felt just as stagnant. The flat Coke gurgled violently in his belly, the syrupy taste still present on his tongue.

Despite all of that, Charlie quickly found a position that didn’t make him feel like his bones were at war with each other. As soon as his eyes closed, he remembered that he had wanted to ask Shayne how he was doing, maybe even ask him what exactly had happened out there, but as soon as he found a sliver of comfort, sleep found him.

___

Shayne jumped to attention at a soft tapping sound.

He hadn't been sleeping, not really, but he'd definitely spaced out.

Everything felt too close; the backs of the car seats, the footwells, the press of the trees just outside. Only Charlie’s closeness felt right. He’d dropped off to sleep with his head propped against the door, and Shayne had been able to lean and put his head on Charlie’s shoulder.

A face was peering through the back window closest to Shayne. Elliott’s gaze was solemn as he gave a little wave, then wiggled his hand back and forth as though he were holding invisible keys.

Shayne’s head swam as he lifted it, nodding towards the steering wheel. He’d taken Charlie’s keys and tucked them there before they’d climbed into the back seat.

In the blink of an eye, Elliott dissolved into a twittering grey cloud that slipped through the passenger side door and across the centre console. He re-materialised in the driver’s seat, his shoulders filling out the backrest. He raised a hand to adjust the rear-view mirror. His pinstriped sleeves were pushed up to his elbows.

He caught Shayne's eye in the mirror, a silent greeting. Shayne swallowed heavily, though it didn’t help with the tight feeling in his throat.

“Hmm,” Elliott hummed softly, finding the keys and putting them in the ignition.

Shayne steadied a hand against Charlie's arm, ready to comfort him in case the car rumbling to life stirred him from his sleep. He continued drooling against the car door. Of course he did.

“This is what middle-aged white men are driving nowadays? Outrageous,” Elliott mused softly.

I wouldn’t usually ask. As soon as Shayne had blurted that out on the phone, Elliott had done something that Shayne had only heard him do once before, back when Felix had left, and it had briefly seemed as though he would never come back.

Elliott had choked up.

Now, in the car, he was reaching for the aviators hanging from the front of his buttoned shirt.

Wouldn’t usually ask? he had repeated, his voice laced with hurt. Shayne had felt a lurch in the back of his throat as he wondered why the fuck he had felt the need to say that in the first place.

In the driver's seat, Elliott casually slipped his sunglasses on.

“Thank you,” Shayne mumbled.

Elliott shook his head and shifted the car into gear. “Where the hell else would I be, kid?”

#StW Charlie #StW Shayne #Swallow the World #StW Elliott #whump fic #OC whump #demon whump #demon eater OC #hurt comfort #hurt and comfort

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