#plain glass candle containers

[sunnyglassware]

(via Wholesale 90ml ribbed cylinder shape Glass Candle Jars with glass lid,Sunny Glassware.)

[silentglassbreak]

Oh babe I hope I can make it!!😂💗

How about Noah dating firefighter? I love women in those fields, they are queens!

Maybe some angst like Noah being away on tour and reader having hard days at work, trying to hold it in cause she doesn't want to worry Noah when he's away, but she's avoiding daily facetime calls lately and Noah gets worried?

Doesn't have to be angst, I'll leave it up to you!

Thank you💗

Wow! We’ve finally made it to your ask, love! I’m sorry for how long it’s taken, but I promise to give this one some extra love - just for you! 😘

After Writing Notes: don't hate me

Rating: Mature

Warnings: Uhm...all of'em. No smut this time. Stressful situations. Angst. Mentions of death. Injury. Hospital setting. Burns.

All You Wanted

Noah was having a really bad day.

Not just shitty, or annoying, or rough.

Bad. Plain and simple.

First, his car wouldn’t start. He tried to turn it over so many times he killed what little juice was left in the battery. No one else was home to give him a ride to the auto parts store, so he had to call an Uber - heavy battery with him - to pick up a fresh one. After the new one was installed, and his car was back in commission, he realized that had taken up two hours.

Next, due to the car issues, he was late to the movie he planned to go see. By the time he was able to make his way to the theater, it was already half over. Rather than wait for another showtime, he elected to not even bother. He was too irritated to enjoy a movie.

Then, as he tried to relax at home and let the frustration of the day pass, he managed to spill his bowl of cereal all over his carpet.

“Did I break glass, or something?” He wondered too himself as his shop vac sucked up the milk and soggy Cinnamon Toast Crunch off of the floor.

However, his day was due to get worse, much to his dismay. He didn’t realize it, but when he set his bowl on his nightstand next to the bed, he slid the candle he kept there over as well. That would’ve been no issue, normally. However, in his haste to grab the vacuum before the milk set in to the carpet, he flung his duvet over the nightstand…

The smell of smoke wafted through his room, and he was almost too angry to notice it. Once he did, he turned to see the corner of his blanket on fire, spreading slowly to the rest of his bed.

Jumping back, he yelped in horror.

“Are you fucking kidding me?!” He screamed, grabbing the water bottle he kept on his computer desk and spraying the half-empty contents onto the blaze.

It did virtually nothing, and he groaned, darting downstairs. Faster than he thought he could, he ran to the kitchen and grabbed the extinguisher from under the bathroom sink.

By the time he made it back to his bedroom, his entire bed was ablaze, pillows smoking heavily, and bed frame catching.

“Fuck!” He pulled the pin on the extinguisher, releasing the fog desperately, losing his breath as the mixture of fire retardant and smoke filled his lungs.

“Dude!” A voice came behind him, and he turned to see Jolly staring at him, grocery bag still in hand, a look of shock on his face.

Noah was coughing harshly now as Jolly’s hands came to wrap around the extinguisher.

“Go! Go outside and call 911! You need to breathe!”

Noah just nodded, backing out of the room and swiping his phone off of the desk. As he made his way down, his fingers dialed.

“911, what is your emergency?”

Noah and Jolly sat on the tailgate of Jolly’s pickup, staring at the house. Smoke still billowed out of the upstairs window of Noah’s room, and firefighters moved in and out of the house periodically.

The fire was out, but they still wouldn’t allow the men inside as they cleared it.

Noah’s room was about 50% burned, as he was told by the fire Captain. Luckily, the burn was contained to the bedroom, and nowhere else in the house sustained more than smoke damage. It was a relief, but also devastating. He didn’t know how much he lost of his belongings, but - at the very least - he’d be sleeping on the couch for a while.

“Guys?” Both of their heads looked up, seeing you stood in front of them. Your face still had soot coating your cheeks, and your hair was disheveled from the helmet you wore. “We’ve got the house secured and stabilized, so I’ll be able to take you in soon. The room will be off limits until the Fire Marshall can come through and confirm no structural damage to the walls or ceiling. We’ll seal it.”

Noah’s eyes fixed on you, wondering how, despite the gray cast on your skin and obvious sweat sheen on your forehead, you could manage to be so cute. You weren’t petite, per se, but you were small. Smaller than what he’d expected in a fire fighter. You stood with your shoulders square and tall, all business. The frayed, frizzy hair on your head was pulled back in a low ponytail.

“Have you both been checked out by EMS?” You pointed to both Noah and Jolly, and the two of them nodded in response. “Good. You want to take a look?”

Jolly clapped a hand to Noah’s shoulder, and hopped off of the truck. Following suit, Noah paced slowly behind both yourself and his brother, the guilt creeping in.

He had set his house on fire…

His home. His sanctuary. His haven. He lit it on fucking fire.

This was some kind of cosmic metaphor for his luck, right? That’s how his entire day had been…a dumpster fire.

Following you into the house, and trekking up the stairs, the guys stopped at the doorway to Noah’s room. Two additional firemen were poking around, checking for any embers.

First thing Noah noticed was that his bed was gone. Not burnt…gone. Reduced to ash on what used to be the carpet beneath it. The raw wood flooring was below, blackened. His nightstand was charred pretty badly, but one side of it was still the red oak color it was previously. His computer desk seemed virtually untouched, and he breathed relief from his lungs.

“Whose room is it?” You looked between the two boys, and Jolly looked at Noah from the side of his eyes. With a heavy sigh, Noah raised his hand begrudgingly. “Okay. If you need anything out of here, now is the time. We’ve taped off the areas you cannot walk in at all, so don’t step over the tape. Other than that, go ahead and grab your stuff.”

Noah nodded, taking a careful step into the room, the floor creaking with his weight. He clenched his jaw, and walked over to his laptop, pulling it from the desk and unplugging the charger. He gathered several other things he assumed he’d need for the next day or so, and stepped back out.

“The Marshall will be able to come by in the morning to inspect. After that, you can begin getting the repairs done.”

“Thank you.” He spoke to you directly, but didn’t look at you. Jolly had retreated to his own room, shutting the door behind him.

“Hey?” He looked up at you, eyes saddened. “You going to be okay?”

He nodded, moving past you down the hall. You followed him. “Yeah. Just kind of jarring. I’ve never had a fire before.”

You both padded down the stairs. “I get that.”

His shoulders bounced as he walked, and even three to four steps ahead, he was taller than you. You took note in your head of how large he was, and it made you smirk.

“You sure you're going to be alright?”

He didn’t answer verbally, rather just shrugged his shoulders and dropped his items on the couch. You began making your way toward the door, but turned around to look at him.

“Just out of curiosity,” His eyes flashed to look at yours, and you couldn’t help but notice that, like the rest of him, they were so big. “What started the fire? We couldn’t find the ignition source. We just knew it started on the bed.”

He scratched the back of his head, his lips turning up in a nervous smile.

“A candle.”

You raised your eyebrows. “A candle? On the bed?”

He shook his head. “No, it was on the nightstand. I dropped my blanket over it on accident, I think.”

Teeth biting into your lower lip, you suppressed the laugh that was bubbling in your chest. What an interesting way to start a fire? You had heard a lot of candle-related incidents, but this was a first.

"Well, probably best to not have candles in the room anymore?"

His eyes widened, and he stuffed his hands in his pockets. "Never burning another candle again, actually."

You couldn't help it, the giggle escaped without being able to catch it. "Alright, well be careful in that room, okay?"

He acknowledged you silently, and you wanted to turn to leave, but you were distracted by the walls, decorated with framed vinyl, guitars, and magazine covers blown up to poster-size. You noticed in some of the photographs, him and the other man were posed with two other guys.

You pointed a finger to the poster directly in front of you. "You in a band or something?"

He smirked, leaning back on his heels. "Something like that?"

Nodding, you heard Ramos, your Captain, calling for you from outside.

"Well, what's it called? I'll listen to it."

"Bad Omens."

Turning your body toward the door, you probed a little further. "Right on. Rock, I assume?"

He nodded. "Metal."

Your teeth flashed, and you saw his eyes light up just a little. "Nice." Your name was called from outside again. "I didn't catch your name?"

You held your hand out for him to shake, and he took it gracefully.

"Noah."

His hand gave yours a firm shake. "Y/N. Nice to meet you, Noah."

With that, you began heading for the door.

"Uh," His voice chimed behind you, and you turned your neck back to him. "Could I, maybe, get your number?"

Your chest warmed, and the grin that spread across your face threatened to break your jaw bone. You thought about it for a moment, pulling your brows together. That was a bit forward, so you responded as appropriately as you could.

"125." And you began walking away.

"Wait, what?"

Still walking through the door, you turned around, and waved. "You'll figure it out."

It took three days. Three long, annoying days for him to figure it out.

But he did.

You were sat in the dorm, shaking off the two hours of sleep you had achieved before the alarm woke you up. It wasn't your turn to head out, but there was no sleeping through that noise. The last twenty-six hours had been grueling, and you couldn't wait to get through the next ten, and go home for your two days off.

You stalked into the kitchen, waiving at Gillman and Reed in the training room. The coffee was heavenly, warming your insides enough to fully wake.

"Y/L/N?" Your head cocked to the bay door, Ramos standing on the other side. You had your hips leaned against the counter, and you were too tired to stand at full attention. "There's someone here asking for you."

Cocking an eyebrow, you huffed away from the countertop, setting your coffee down, and walked to the door. Who the hell was going to come see you at work?

You pushed the heavy door open, and behind it, stood right next to engine #14, was a tall, brown-eyed boy, smiling at you. It had been such a long few days, you had honestly forgotten about your encounter with him back at his house. After you finished up the paperwork, it had been jammed into the back of your head.

"Hey?" You asked, crossing your arms in front of you. "I see you figured it out?"

He nodded, pursing his lips. "Station 125. Yep, took me a while."

Shaking your head, you laughed. "Well, what can I do for you?"

In his hand, he held a small brown paper bag, and presented it in front of him. "For you."

"What's this?"

Smirking, he handed you the gift. "Just a token of my gratitude."

Unfolding the top, you scoffed when you saw what was inside.

"A candle?"

He snorted. "Not just any candle." He took it from your hands, showing the label. "This is a WoodWick Sagewood scented candle." He placed it back in your hands. "It's exactly the same as the one that burned my bedroom down."

You laughed at this, gawking at the glass in your hand. "And why did you want me to have one?"

Suddenly, he looked unsure. "I had a really cool, witty reason, when I picked it up at the store. I can't seem to remember now, though." He scrubbed a hand over the back of his neck. "To be honest, it's my favorite scented candle."

You nodded, recognizing the sweet gesture. "Thank you."

It fell quiet between you both, and you put the candle back in the bag.

"So." You set the bag down on the step of the engine, and recrossed your arms.

"So." He repeated. His eyes darted around the bay, taking all of it in. "You're a fire fighter, huh?"

This made you outright cackle. "Yeah? What gave me away?"

He sighed out a defeated chuckle. "Yeah, that was a dumb question."

"Why did you come here, Noah? Just to give me a candle?"

He shook his head, hands buried in his pockets once again. "No, I uh," He took a deep breath and looked at you. "I came to ask you on a date."

Your eyebrows shot up. "A date?"

"Mhm." Noah chewed on the inside of his cheek.

"Noah, you know nothing about me."

He leaned forward for emphasis. "Right, usually what people do on dates - " He put a hand up to gesture between you. "get to know each other."

Well, hard to argue that.

"I mean, you don't know if I'm married or have a boyfriend."

"Do you?" He didn't seem bothered by your statement, his question sounding more like a formality.

"Well, no."

"You're allowed to say no." He smiled, then. It was genuine, and it made one of your own creep onto your face.

"I wasn't going to."

6 Months Later

"Noah, it's not that big of a deal." You trudged through the airport toward the Delta desk, and stood behind at least twelve people, your phone pressed firmly to your cheek.

"It's a huge deal, babe!" He sounded so exasperated. "I haven't seen you in two weeks, and I miss you!"

You giggled, leaning your head back. "I miss you too, honey, but shit happens. I'll catch the next available flight, and I'll be there before you know it."

"Think they'll have another one today?" You glanced around the airport, seeing the groups of displaced, disgruntled passengers.

"With this storm? It's doubtful. I overheard one of the workers saying winds were as strong as one hundred miles per hour."

"Okay, but once you're up at altitude, none of that matters."

You rolled you eyes. "Can't get up to altitude if the plane blows out of the sky, babe."

"I know, I know. I'm just pissed off."

The line was crawling, but you were slowly getting closer to the desk.

"It's alright. I'll make something happen, okay? As soon as I have news, I'll call you?"

"Okay, babe. I love you."

Your face blushed. You still weren't used to that. "Love you too."

You disconnected the call and took a deep breath.

The woman working for Delta Airlines looked as stressed as a person could be without physically combusting.

"Hello, are you here about the cancelled flight?" You just nodded, showing your boarding pass on your phone. "Okay. Well, all of our flights have been cancelled until further notice. We have no way of knowing when the storm will die down, so right now, we're not rescheduling any flights. We're only offering a credit."

You squeezed your eyes shut, trying not to get too upset. "Do you know if any other airlines are still booking flights?"

She shook her head. "We've all been grounded until the wind dies down."

Shrugging hard, you gave her your information so she could put in for the credit, and walked away from the desk. You decided not to call Noah back right away, needing to deal with the irritation and disappointment yourself first.

You called an Uber outside the airport, and made your way the short distance back to the apartment. After you had huffed your bag down onto the couch, you sat on the edge of your bed, allowing yourself a moment to sulk.

The last six months had been a dream. After your first date with Noah, which included a dinner at a beachside restaurant in Santa Monica and arcade games at the pier, you and him were absolutely intertwined together. The clicking noise you made was loud and strong, keeping you both in a stranglehold over each other.

As different of people as you were, you learned that Noah was not nearly as different from you as you had assumed. He grew up in West Virginia, a rough life, dropped out of high school, joined a band young, and ended up a successful rockstar after twelve years of hard, rigorous work.

Your life had been quite the opposite. You had lived in Los Angeles your entire life, namely Orange County. You lived with both parents, who were mostly well-off with high powered careers. They wanted a lot for you, growing up. Education. Career. Family. Marriage.

You wanted none of it. You wanted to be free. You wanted to get tattoos and go to festivals in the desert. You wanted to know who you were spiritually. You wanted to paint and sketch. You wanted to find out who you were.

Somewhere along the way, in your twenties, you learned more about yourself than you ever wanted. You learned that you trusted too easy. You were easily persuaded and pressured. You weren't prepared for the life you thought you wanted.

So, like a lot of young, naive women do in the city of angels, you got run down, stepped on, and burned out. Sex, drugs, rock and roll, that's what it was all about right?

It wasn't until your last relationship ended - badly - that you decided you were done. You wanted chaos, but the kind you could stop. The kind you could help. You found firefighting. It was a big adjustment, but you took to it well. You did the courses, you took the classes. In less than a year, you were out in the field with all the men, running into the blaze and extinguishing the flames.

It was incredible.

So, where did that leave you and Noah? You worked thirty-six hour shifts with eight hours in between until your mandatory two days off every ten days. It was grueling, but he stuck it out. He'd visit you on your overnights when it had been quiet, bringing food and promising not to get in the way. When you had your days off, he typically kidnapped you, holding you hostage in his bed for the duration.

Noah's life was busy as well, constantly touring, it felt like. Currently, he was in Philadelphia, a show later that evening. You had taken your seven vacation days and had planned to fly out to Pennsylvania, travel with him to his next two shows, and fly home with him from New York City. He had four weeks off before he had to head over to Europe, and he claimed to spend as much of that time with you as humanly possible.

Imagine how much of a kink this storm put in his plans.

The phone rang on the other end while you waited for him to pick up. You laid flat on your back on the bed, staring up at the ceiling.

"Hey! I go on stage in ten minutes. Did you rebook the flight?"

You sighed hard. "No."

"No? Why not?"

"Noah, all of the flights are grounded because of the storm. They don't know when they'll be back up, so they wouldn't rebook me."

You could hear the agitation leaking out of his voice. "God damn it!"

"Don't get too worked up before the show. I'll be out there as soon as I can, okay?"

"Has there been any news of how long this shit's supposed to go on for?"

You threw an arm over your eyes. "The weather report I read says it could last through Monday."

"Monday?! We're supposed to be on our way home by then!"

Pinching the bridge of your nose, you kept your voice even. "Noah, please don't yell at me."

"Doesn't this bother you?" He was frustrated, and you knew that it wasn't your fault. You knew that he knew that, but it didn't help the feeling that he was angry with you for something completely out of your control.

"Of course it does, babe, but there's nothing I can do." You sat up, crossing your legs in front of you.

He scoffed on the other end. "Yeah, alright, whatever."

You rolled your eyes. "Baby," He didn't say anything. "I get you're mad, but please don't take it out on me?"

"I got to go."

Your heart sunk a little, a stinging in your eyes emerging. "Okay. Have a great show okay?" Again, he didn't respond. "I love you, Noah."

"Yep. Bye." And the line went dead.

The night had drug on. You waited as patiently as you could for the concert to end, and to give Noah enough time to relax before you tried reaching out. After three hours, you decided enough time had passed, and you dialed him.

But he didn’t answer.

Instead of blowing up his phone like your internal anxiety was trying to convince you to, rather, you decided to send him a simple text.

You: Hey, I know you’re upset, baby. I’m sorry this didn’t work out the way we wanted, but just know that I love you, and I will see you as soon as I possibly can. Call me when you get a chance. ❤️

You dropped your phone on the bed and sighed loudly, walking over to the couch to begin unpacking your bag.

By the end of the night, you hadn’t had a single text or call from Noah, so you had tried to accept that he just wasn’t going to reach out anymore tonight. You’d try again tomorrow. You loved Noah, more than you could’ve ever expected, but the speed at which he threw a tantrum like a child was a turn off, and you were combatting the urge to cringe at the thought.

You had only been together six months. You had no baggage together. You lived apart. You had no pets or plants together. You didn’t have any financial ties. If things didn’t work out, it was as simple as goodbye.

And as much as you loved Noah, you couldn’t help but feel the tug inside, reminding you that this wasn’t the first fit Noah had thrown over not getting his way.

He wanted to take you out for your birthday six weeks ago. You didn’t know where, it was a surprise. But you ended up called in to work, and it was an all hands on deck. Forest fire. They were everywhere lately, and when you were called, it was non-negotiable.

Noah hadn’t taken that too well. He begged you not to go, asked you to fake sick or pretend to be out of town. That was not happening. You had a job - an important job. It wasn’t as if you didn’t go in, the work would be there tomorrow. This wasn’t cancelling a concert. There were lives on the line.

He didn’t comprehend that in the moment, and stormed out of your apartment. He didn’t call you until the following day, after you had been out for sixteen hours and had finally fallen into your pillows to sleep for five hours before going back out. He was apologizing frantically, and begging you to forgive him.

And truly? You were too tired not to. You let him come over and snuggle you a while before you had to leave again.

Then there was the time you were too sick to come over. That was earlier on in the relationship, so his reaction was slightly less dramatic, but it was still frustrating nonetheless.

You had been fevering and vomiting the entire day. It was one of your off-days, and he wanted to you to go to his place to watch movies and whatever else came with that. In the state you were in, it was entirely out of the question. Besides the fact that you were likely contagious, you were disgusting. Your hair was greasy from sweat, your skin was a sickening pale, and you spent 80% of the day hugging the toilet and emptying your stomach violently.

Rather than throwing an all out fit, he just resorted to texting you here and there to check in, but kept his messages cold. He showed up the following day with supplies, mask on, and claimed he really didn’t care if he got sick or not.

You overlooked it.

There were small things that happened here and there, but it never was enough to stick out in your mind.

But tonight, this just felt off-putting. More so than before.

You tossed and turned on the mattress, your heart begging for your phone to chime, proving your assumptions were wrong…but it never did.

As your mind drifted closer to sleep, the memories began rolling into your brain.

“Noah, I don’t understand why you can’t just tell me where we’re going!”

His lips were plucked up into a playful smirk. “Wouldn’t be a surprise if I told you!”

He guided your hand, trailing you behind him, and trekking through the trees around you.

“Are you bringing me out here to murder me?”

He turned, stopping, look of absolute horror on his face. “Who told you?!”

You lowered your lids and shifted your weight one one leg, rolling your eyes. He giggled in response.

“Babe, just trust me, okay?”

You continued to follow him deeper into the forest, losing your way from the path further and further.

“We’re lost, aren’t we?”

Before you could get a response, you hit a break in the treeline, and a large clearing laid out before you. It was beautiful and picturesque, looking to span about a square quarter mile. So out of place among the expanse of greenery, you gazed around, taking it in.

“Oh wow.” The air in the clearing was sweeter than the woods, and you could see white butterflies catching the light pooling on the grass.

“Come on.” He was still pulling you toward the far side of the clearing.

At the edge, he stopped abrupt, and gestured with a hand toward some large stones near the trees. Taking a step closer, you could see more clearly that the moss-covered fixtures weren’t any stones.

They were headstones.

Stepping forward carefully, you pulled a large arm of vines off of one that was cross-shaped, revealing the crumbling rock, engraving nearly illegible. You took a step back, and noticed rows and rows of them along the trees. They blended in naturally, overtaken by the Earth.

“Noah,” You turned to look at him. “whose graves are these?”

He shrugged his shoulders, walking up to one that was broken in half.

“I found this clearing about a year ago while hiking. There’s twenty-two graves here. Most of the etchings are illegible or worn off now, but the couple I found date back to the early 1900s.” He approached one in particular, smaller than the ones around it.

Squatting down, he brushed the moss off of the plaque and read it aloud.

“Emily Wheatley. Born 1913. Died 1918.”

The thought made your heart hurt. “She was five…”

Your voice was somber.

“Yeah, from what I gather, these are all people who died during the Spanish Flu pandemic.” He patted the tiny stone with care, and stood back up. “Back in that time, so many people were dying so fast, a lot of folks just ended up buried on their own properties or in their communities. Maybe that’s what happened here?”

You nodded, bending down to another grave, running your hand over the decaying concrete. “These tombstones look handmade.”

He nodded. “I bet they were.”

Your fingers touched the cracks of the stones, feeling the lives that were laid to rest here. Such a beautiful place to spend eternity.

“These are incredible, Noah.”

Looking up at him, he smiled down at you. “I’d hoped you’d like it.”

Your eyes danced from each grave. “Like it? It’s so serene. So stunning. I could stay here for hours. I love it.”

“I love you.”

If you had been any more entranced with your surroundings, you would’ve missed it. It was so quiet and uncertain.

Your eyes peered up to Noah, who looked wrecked with nerves.

“What?” You stood, looking directly at him.

“I love you, Y/N.”

Your bottom lip twitched, a heavy tingling sensation covering your face.

“I love you too.”

His eyes lit up, but he didn’t smile yet.

“Really?”

All you had to do was kiss him. That’s all you could manage, overwhelmed with emotion. His lips pressed against yours, hands wrapping around you and lifting your feet off the ground.

His admission was so raw, in this beautiful, wonderful place of death and rest. You had never felt more sure about anything other than the fact that you loved Noah, and you would never stop.

The ringtone sounded like a shrill scream, waking you from the memory that was laid softly in your brain, buzzing you in your sleep and helping you forget your worries or concerns.

For a split second, your heart leapt, thinking only one person could be calling you at whatever hour this is, right? The clock on your nightstand told you it was four-thirty in the morning.

Your hand scrambled to your bedside table to answer the call, failing to even check the screen for who was calling. You were so sure of who it was…

“Hello?”

“Y/L/N?” Ramos’ gruff voice rang through the receiver. You flopped your body back onto the bed, internally groaning.

“Yes sir?” 

“Did you make it out of town before the flights were grounded?”

You scrubbed a hand over your eyes. “No, sir. I was going to try and get another today.”

“No dice, unfortunately. The storm’s gotten worse.”

This time, your displeasure came out audibly. “Lovely.”

“Sorry about that, kid. But, listen, we have an all hands situation.”

You sat up now, already swinging your legs off of the mattress.

“Yeah? Where?”

“The Cajon Pass. LA Fire’s called in hands in six additional counties. They’ve so far had over a hundred acres burnt and the wind is causing a rapid spread.”

You stood in front of the bathroom mirror, and put your phone down on the counter, now on speaker.

“Any aerial attempts yet?”

“Mhm. They’ve dropped 4,000 gallons so far.”

Sucking your teeth, you let your head fall back. “Damn.” You began running a brush through your hair. “Alright, when do we head out?”

“Thirty minutes.”

You picked up your phone, staring at the screen. “I’ll be there.”

You ended the call, and quickly swiped to your home screen. 

No missed calls. No missed texts.

Despite the volume of people riding in the engine, the air was silent. It always was when you headed to the site of a wildfire. No matter how much you thought you knew about it, it was always worse than you were expecting, so you never found any lightheartedness in the atmosphere.

You sat next to Ramos as he tightened the boots on his feet. Your back was leaned heavy against the side of the rig, the bench bouncing beneath you as you headed toward the approaching disaster.

Your mind should’ve been running through the brief again, or reciting your safety protocols. But you were too focused elsewhere.

You couldn’t stop thinking about Noah. 

Fingers hooked onto the gold chain you wore around your neck, the small glass stone smooth as you twirled it back and forth. The necklace was newer to you, only haven been gifted it two months ago before Noah left on tour, but even then - you hadn’t removed it once.

It was a custom piece. The glass was hand-blown and a beautiful shade of amber. It was clouded with ash - specifically from burnt sage. Noah had told you it was a representative of the both of you, and it signified that although you had met under such unfortunate circumstances, you had managed to find something so stunning in the process - much like the stone.

While thinking of this, you felt conflicted. Emotions over your relationship with Noah were so back and forth, frustrating you. 

The look on your face must have been telling, because a hand dropped on your knee, and you looked up to Ramos.

“You alright there, kid?”

Nodding, you gave him a half-smile. “Yeah. Just a lot on my mind.”

“Bummed about having to change your plans?”

Shrugging your shoulders, you ran your palms over the tops of your thighs.

“Yeah.”

“That’s not too convincing. Weren’t you going to see Noah back East?”

“Right.”

He leaned back, turning his head to look directly at you. “Was he upset?”

Lifting your eyebrows, you breathed heavily. “Oh, yeah.”

“Well, hopefully once this fucking wind dies down, you can head out there.”

You let your eyes fall to the window on the opposing side of the engine, letting your vision unfocus.

“Or not.”

This caught him, his eyebrow raising suspiciously.

“Oh?”

Over the years, you’d come to learn that Ramos was more than just your Captain at times. He also had become one of the few people in your life that you could consider a friend. He was a staggering twelve years older than you, so he gave an older-sibling, protective type persona. It made life easier when you had a safe place to come to with your personal problems.

You sighed heavily, rubbing your temples. “I can’t say for sure if I I’ll be joining Noah.”

“Because of the transportation issues?”

Shaking your head, you fiddled with you fingers in your lap. “Not just that. He hasn’t even texted me back since last night.”

He grunted. “Why? Was he mad at you?”

“I don’t know if he was mad at me, but I know he felt like I didn’t care that our plans were cancelled. Which is ridiculous, you know that.” You looked up at him, and he nodded in return.

“Right.” He gave a short response so he could leave space for you to continue.

“So I don’t fucking get why he catches such a fucking attitude with me!” You slapped a hand down on your leg in irritation. “Like, who does he think he is? I didn’t cause the God damn storm! I didn’t force the planes down on the ground! I wanted to see him just as badly! I’m just an adult who understands that throwing a tantrum gets us nowhere, so fuck me, right?”

Letting out a hard breath you had been holding, you let the words vibrate off of you, lifting a weight off of your spine you didn’t notice before.

He chuckled low, staring down at you. “How’d that feel?”

You had your eyes closed, enjoying the lighter feeling. “Good. I had been holding it in.”

“As usual.” He bumped your shoulder, making you look up at him. “Give him a little time, Y/N. He’ll come around. He always does.”

You shrugged. “I know he does. But how many times is he going to do this? It’s stupid, and it makes me anxious for literally no reason every time. Sure, he says he’s sorry after, but that’s doesn’t erase the feeling.”

Considering this, Ramos nodded his head. “That’s valid. You know better than I do that maturity doesn’t exactly come naturally to us men. He’s, what, twenty-nine?”

“Twenty-eight.”

“Right, so he’s practically a teenager, still. I’m not saying that excuses his behavior. Not at all. But I’m just saying, I was very similar at that age. I get it.”

You shrugged. “How long did it take you to quit acting like a child?”

He laughed again. “Ask my wife, and she’ll tell you I never did.”

You smirked, your hand finding your necklace again, twirling it around in your fingers. His words permeated you.

Maybe he was right. Maybe you just needed to give Noah some time to navigate his own emotions. At some point, preferably soon, you’d need to talk to him so you both could work out the behavior. Maybe there was something you were doing that could be improved as well as him? 

Maybe the consideration of ending things was a bit premature.

Pulling out your phone, you checked and saw your messages had still been unread. Shaking off the sinking feeling, you typed out a quick message.

You: Hey babe. I got called out to a wildfire in the Cajon Pass. Flights are still grounded. I’m so sorry this didn’t go the way we wanted, but when I get home, I need to hear your voice. I know you’re upset, but I really think we should talk. I’ll call you as soon as I’m headed home. I love you, Noah. I hope you had a great show, and slept well. Talk to you soon.

Noah stared out of the window, rain pelting the glass, creating designs in the cityscape below. 

“You going sit there and brood, or are you going to come eat?" Folio's voice bounced off of the glass he stared into. He wanted nothing more than to tell him to fuck right off and not bother responding, but he knew that wasn't going to get him anywhere he wanted to be.

With a huff, he stood up out of the chair, and stalked over to the table the rest of the guys sat at. Nick was shoveling bacon into his mouth while Jolly sipped coffee from his mug. Folio was finishing off the last of his pancakes with urgent bites.

Noah stared down at his breakfast, grimacing at the plate. He wasn't hungry, but if he didn't eat now, he couldn't even guess when he would be willing to try again. Reluctantly, he picked up his fork and dug into the scrambled eggs.

"Dude, if you're so bent out of shape over it, why don't you just call her?" Jolly set his cup down and leaned back in his chair.

"If she wanted to talk, she would've called. She's probably pissed at me." Noah rolled the bland food around in his mouth, setting his fork down and groaning. "She should be. I was such a dick."

"Or," Nick spoke up from across the table, looking up at Noah with deep seated, irritated eyes. "she's waiting for your tantrum to be over, and for you to call her. You are the one who hung up on her, remember?" His best friend was the least patient with Noah's temper.

"Alright, I get it, okay? I already said I was a dick." Noah threw himself back in the chair, snarling back at Nick.

Nick, however, wasn't having it. Instead, he set his cup down and crossed his arms over his chest. "Do you get it? Or are you just saying that until the next time you act like a baby?"

The words came off Noah's lips like venom. "The fuck did you just say to me?"

"Let's keep it calm, guys." Jolly's Dad voice started emerging. Folio eye's flashed between his two brothers anxiously.

"You fucking heard me, dude. I'm so sick of your mood swings every time you decide to be an ass to her. That girl isn't going to put up with you forever, you know that?" Nick was nonchalant in his tone, but his words were just as sharp as his counterpart's.

Noah stood, catching the edge of his plate and making a sharp clattering on the table.

"Fuck you, dude!" He tossed a stray apple from the fruit bowl in the center of the table at Nick. "You don't know shit!"

Nick caught the apple, standing nearly in sync with Noah.

"No? I haven't known you longer than everyone else here? I haven't watched you drive away girl after girl after girl?" He gestured with his hands in a circular motion.

Noah scoffed. "What difference does it make to you? It's not your relationship." His hands were balled into fists at his sides.

Nick snorted, incredulous. "Well, for starters, every time this happens, we all have to deal with your bullshit attitude!" His eyebrows raised, and the other two men at the table looked away.

"On top of that," Nick kept speaking before Noah could rebut his argument. "this one actually fucking loves you, you jackass." These words came out just a touch softer, and Noah deflated like a punctured balloon. His shoulders fell in, signaling his instant defeat.

Nick continued. "Y/N is a rad fucking girl, man. We all like her." Jolly and Folio nodded in agreement. "We don't want you to fuck this one up. She deserves better than you throwing a fit like a toddler when you don't get your way."

That stung.

Noah didn't enjoy being this way. He never tried to hurt you. If there was one thing that came with a lack of upbringing and a tumultuous adolescence, it was a complete and total absence of understanding emotion.

He didn't know how to deal with it. Anger? Sadness? Happiness? Those were - for lack of a better term - big fucking emotions, and he never knew where to put them. Reigning them in was not something he was fluent in at all, and he hated that about himself.

Every time this happened, and he found himself lashing out or turning cold toward you, he told himself that was the last time. He wouldn't keep doing this. It wasn't fair to you that he didn't know a better way to express himself than to take it out on you. To Nick's credit, he was right. It was surprising you had stayed.

"I don't-" Noah cut himself off, biting his own tongue before another excuse rolled off of it. He instead opted for the far more bitter option. "I know."

He shrugged back down into his chair, face falling into his hands. "I can't keep doing this. I'm going to lose her if I do." His words came out muffled, but they had heard him.

"Just call her, man." Nick's voice was relaxed, now. Back to it's normal cadence.

"I'm going to." He stood again, heading for the other side of the room where his phone sat on the bedside table. He picked it up, noting still no notifications on the screen. His insides clenched.

"What do I even say?" He chewed his bottom lip.

"Tell her you forgot to take your phone off Do Not Disturb after the show." Folio said around the food in his mouth.

Noah rolled his eyes. "I don't think lying to her is the right choice, bro."

Folio just lifted his shoulders, smirking.

Swiping open the phone, it opened to his banking app, which was the last thing he had used before he fell asleep the night before. But before he could close it, against the dark background of the screen, he saw it. Upper left corner of the screen.

The tiny white moon.

"Oh fuck!"

Nick's face fell. "You fucking didn't."

"I always turn it off! I never forget!"

Jolly spoke up. "You were worked up last night..."

Noah swiped to the home screen, seeing the 2 icon on top of the message app. He also saw the signal of missed calls. His fingers ripped through his hair, and he stood up.

"At least you're not lying to her!" Folio added as Noah pressed the phone to his face, immediately calling you back.

Your phone rang, but he was eventually met with your voicemail.

"Fuck! What time is it in California?"

"Seven." Jolly responded.

"She's probably sleeping." Noah maneuvered to the messages, seeing the message from last night first, his heart sinking.

He felt like a combination of dirt and that residue that gum leaves on the bottom of your shoe.

He then saw the message from this morning, and sank down onto the end of the bed, staring blankly.

"What's wrong, dude?" Nick nodded to Noah, trying to get his attention.

"There's uh," He tried to calm his racing thoughts. "there's a fire in the Cajon Pass. She got called down to help."

"How long ago did she text you?"

Noah sighed heavily. "Two hours ago. She's probably just getting started out there."

His fingers began frantically typing a response to you.

Noah: Hey baby. I'm so fucking sorry. My phone was on DND overnight, and I'm such an idiot and didn't turn it off. I'm an idiot for more than just that. I'm sorry for how I acted. I know that wasn't okay, and I can't even begin to tell you how awful I feel. I promise I will make it up to you as soon as humanly possible. Please call me as soon as you can. Please be safe. I love you, more than you could ever know.

"How long does she usually stay out?"

Folio and Jolly stared at Noah, the sounds of all of the people moving around the room blurring together as he stared at the unread message he had sent over twelve hours prior.

"It really varies. Sometimes hours? Days? Depends on the fire."

Folio was staring down at his phone now, eyes fixed on something on the screen. His elbow tapped Jolly, handing him the device. Jolly's eyes scanned the text on the phone, and sighed hard. This all went unseen to Noah, who was just spacing out at his own text.

"Why don't you try calling again?" Folio chimed.

"I've tried to call six times." His voice was solemn.

"Have you called the station?" Noah's eyes flicked up to Nick, who was now staring down at him from where he stood directly in front of his legs.

Noah hadn't considered it, but what could it hurt?

The line rang twice before Reed answered. "Station 125. Is this an emergency?"

"It's not. I don't think. Reed, is that you?"

"Who's calling?"

Noah tried to keep his patience. "It's Noah."

"Oh." The man on the other line paused. "Hey Noah, hang on, okay?"

For a split second, he felt bad. He was calling her job. They had more important things to worry about than him and his paranoia.

This only lasted that split second, when the line picked back up.

"Noah?" The deep, raspy voice was unmistakable.

"Ramos?" Why was he talking to your boss, and not you? "Hey, is Y/N around?"

"She, uh" He cleared his throat. "she's not right now."

"Did she go home already?"

The line was silent. Eerily blank, white noise buzzing through the receiver.

"Are you in town, Noah? Can you come to the station?"

Something in Noah's stomach twisted hard, the little food he had eaten that day threatening to make a reappearance.

His words. His tone.

"I'm in New York." Was all Noah could get out without retching.

Ramos sighed. "If it's possible, I think it's best you get here soon."

"Ramos..." Noah was standing, back stiff as drywall. "Where is she?"

"Listen, I'm going to tell you this, but I need you to stay calm, alright?"

Noah didn't audibly respond, praying he would just continue.

"We don't know exactly where she is."

The ground fell out under his feet. Noah was free-falling through space and time, only the words swirling around him.

"What?" The word came out as a breath, or what was supposed to be one.

"The fire had spread to several neighborhoods. She went out with a unit lead by LA Fire. There were some collapses, and they're still trying to get everyone evacuated and located."

English was no longer Noah's first language. It was panic.

"What?!" His voice topped out, cracking hard at the end. "What do you mean?! Was she in a building when it collapsed?! Is she hurt?!"

"Noah, calm down."

"Calm down?!" Hands were on his shoulders, trying to physically restrain his arms flailing. "Why are you in Calabasas?! Why aren't you out there?!"

"Noah, I had to come back and get some food and rest. I'm headed back out in five minutes to rejoin search and rescue. We're going to find her."

The water flowing down Noah's cheeks went entirely unnoticed. He couldn't form any more words.

"Like I said before, it's best if you get here soon."

East to West Coast flights are already long. However, they tend to be much longer when you're working hard to not go into full panic attack mode.

Noah hated flying. Despite Nick being sat next to him, soothing small circles into the back of his hand every time he would begin to tremble, he was a semi-catatonic mess the entirety of the plane ride.

It wasn't until they were pulling up off of the highway, right to the barricades set up by the fire engines, did he feel himself come back to life. Ramos met them at the edge of the blockade, waving them through. He then took them on a short drive in his Jeep through the hills. What started as plush greenery, soon turned to charred, blackened, ashy mess. The sky grayed over them, the rising sun not having a prayer of breaking through the deep hue of sobering truth in front of them.

The small, hillside town hidden within the Pass was completely leveled. Buildings barely stood, crumbling horrifically around them.

"Now listen, you two will do as I say, when I say it, is that understood?" His voice was stern, all business.

Nick answered audibly, but Noah just shook his head as he watched the destroyed town around him. Civilians sat in ambulances, wrapped in blankets. Firemen in all different uniform colors roamed the streets around them. It resembled a warzone.

"How did this happen?" Noah spoke against the glass.

"We haven't determined the cause yet, but our best guess is a series of bonfires. Add the high winds?"

Noah's spine tingled at the thought.

"Now, listen, you two are here on a volunteer basis. There will be waivers to sign, and we'll get you some gear. I'm going to take you to the neighborhood where Y/N was last seen. We're looking for any and all civilians. Alive, or otherwise."

Noah's neck snapped to his left, staring at the large man next to him.

"Otherwise?" He swallowed hard. "People died?"

"Seventeen confirmed deaths so far. Eighty-six injured."

Noah's heart rate sped up to an alarming pace. "God."

A hand clapped over his shoulder. "We'll find her." Nick's voice rang in his ear.

Noah walked through the strip mall, poker in hand, and overturning debris. So far, he had found a lot of nothing. A few burnt rats, a lot of smoldering wood from building rafters. No sign of life in any of the shops he had wandered into, Nick on his heels.

"I don't think anyone's in here." His brother's voice rang behind him. He sucked his teeth.

"I don't think so either."

The radio on the heavy coat he wore began blaring, startling him.

"We've got six survivors, four are critical." The voice rattled off the location, which was less than a quarter mile from where they were currently searching. Their eyes stared at each other, before they made a dash for the exit, headed for the street toward the area where the people were found.

Noah ran toward the ambulances, a heavy hand catching him in the chest. Peering down at him was Ramos, a serious scowl crossing his face.

"Wait here." He let out a breath. "We've got her."

His breathing picked up, and he removed his respirator. "She's alive?"

"She's hanging on. EMTs said she's got full thickness burns to her legs, face, and back. She didn't have her helmet on."

His eyes caught the ambulance leaving, sirens screaming. "Where are they taking her?"

"UCI. She'll be taken to the remote area where she can be airlifted."

Noah began ripping the gear off. "I've got to go with her."

Noah didn't like airplanes. He really didn't like helicopters.

In all fairness, this had been his first time on one, but given the circumstances? He hated them. They were terrifying, but it didn't matter.

He stared at the stretcher, your body covered in heat-protecting blankets. What little of your face he could see under the bandages was charred, blistering and bleeding. It made his heart invert, his entire being hurting at the sight. How could he have been so stupid? How could he have had the audacity to hang up on you, give you attitude, and then not return your calls? It was unforgivable. He deserved for you to hate him. Leave him. Never want to see him again.

But all he could do was watch you. Listen to the heart monitor beep to remind him you were still here.

How could this have happened? You were so smart. You had taken so many courses. Why would you take off your helmet and respirator, exposing your face to the flames? Your jacket was found with you, and was one of the only ways they were able to identify you.

Aside from your hair, build, and general appearance, you were unrecognizable. Your body was mauled so badly by the flames.

The hospital staff frenzied around you, ripping your hand out of his without question, and whisked you to the ICU. He was told he had to wait, and if that wasn't the most devastating thing he had heard...

Nick, Ramos, and Reed all joined him at the hospital an hour later, as quickly as they could. They received updates every few hours. You had stabilized quickly, and they were keeping you under observation, treating the smoke inhalation and infection risk before moving you to the burn unit.

Jolly and Folio showed up six hours later, having caught a later flight than Noah and Nick. All of the men sat, deathly silent, until a nurse called Noah's name.

He walked over to her too quickly, but she was unbothered.

"Mr. Sebastian," She held a clipboard in her small hands. "Y/N will be moved to the burn unit as soon as a room becomes available."

"When can I see her?" His words were shaky, his hands knotting in the hair on top of his head.

"The doctor has advised she can have up to two visitors." Her eyes glanced back at the group sat behind Noah. "You have to change into sterile clothing that we can provide. The risk of infection is extreme."

Noah nodded. He looked back at Ramos, who was now standing behind him. "Okay, we'll go in."

She smiled sweetly. "Follow me."

The nurse led Noah and Ramos to a small locker room, sealed packages of lime green scrubs laid on the bench.

"Once you're done, come to the nurse's station."

Noah changed as quickly as possible, sitting on the bench while he waited for the other man to finish. He was annoyed at how long it was taking, but he used this moment to take a deep breath, leaning his head against the lockers behind him.

"It's good that you came, man." The voice that came out was so tired. It sounded the same way Noah felt.

"Of course I did. How could I not?"

Ramos chuckled at Noah's humorless tone. "I just mean, I know it'll mean a lot to her, that's all."

"I love her." His words weren't spoken to convince or persuade. They were just fact. They hung in the air on an invisible thread.

Ramos stood, staring at him, a blank expression on his face. "She loves you too. Don't forget that."

With that, they both made their way back to the nurse. Gloved and masks on, they were allowed behind the large glass door. A heavy white blanket pulled up over you to your shoulders. Bandages now covered the entirety of your face, small amount of hair sticking out in random places. Your body was propped up slightly on the side, likely due to the burns covering your back. Small spots of blood were etched into the pillow and sheets beneath you. Your eyes were closed, and a large tube was jutting from your lips.

Both men had been instructed not to touch you. Noah felt the physical ache in his fingers to not reach out and touch what little unmarred skin was left, signaling somehow that he was there. He was never leaving.

Ramos took a heavy seat in the chair next to your bed, staring down at you, disbelief painting his features.

"I've been at this job for twenty-one years, Noah."

The deep brown eyes flashed over to him, now wet with tears.

"I'll tell you, this never gets easier."

Noah tears fell freely, his hand bracing on the rail on the side of the bed.

Hours passed, Noah and Ramos unmoving except for when the nurse came in to check your vitals. He had been told you would not be allowed visitors in the burn unit, so he was getting as much time as he could with you.

He was, however, worn down.

After a while, Ramos stood, stretching his arms over his head. "Noah?"

He tore his eyes off of you, staring up at your friend. "Take a minute. You look like you're about ready to fall over."

Shaking his head, Noah breathed for the first time in what felt like days. "I'm fine."

"At least see if they've got a pillow. You can recline this chair and try to relax."

His stare challenged Ramos, but was met with an even more intimidating glare.

"I'm not asking."

After a moment, and an unwavering stare, Noah finally receded, backing slowly from the room. Once the door slid shut behind him, he let his shoulders sink, ripping the gloves from his sweaty palms, chucking them in the bin.

He stepped over to the nurse's desk, smiling as genuinely as he could.

"You wouldn't by chance have a pillow?"

Her grin was warm, her small frame standing. "Of course, honey. Give me a second."

She disappeared from her chair, pacing to a small room next to the desk.

Noah's eyes wandered as he waited, his teeth ripping at the dried skin on his bottom lip. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught a shiny plastic on the desk under the counter. His tall stance leaned over, hand reaching down to run his fingers over the smooth bag. It was clear, and he could see the shredded remains of a navy blue t-shirt, yellow pants, and...

A stone?

His palm gripped the bag, lifting it over the counter and up closer to his face. Inside the sealed plastic, he could see it shining back at him, small amount of soot coating it.

Your necklace.

The nurse returned, two pillows and a folded blanket under her arm, pulling him from his focus.

"Hey, uh," He set the bag down on the counter. "these are her belongings. Can I open this?" He pressed a finger into the bag.

She adjusted the glasses on her face, and pulled the bag away from him, looking down at the label. Her lips puckered, eyes reading the words.

"I'm sorry, honey. This is someone else's."

Noah's brain blanked out.

"No. No, this is her stuff. That's her necklace."

She shook her head. "No, dear. This came in with someone else."

His hand slammed down on the counter with a sharp thud, making the nurse visibly jump.

"No, no! This is hers. I gave her that necklace!"

Her eyes deadpanned at him.

"Sweetheart, I think you're confused. This came in hours before she did, with another person."

Noah's eyes stared deep at her, working to make sense of her words.

"What do you mean? Who had her necklace?"

She sighed hard. "I can't tell you anything about other patients."

His voice snapped. "No one else could have that necklace! It was made for her!"

"Mr. Sebastian, I need you to calm down."

"Who had the necklace, damn it! Those are her clothes! That's her stuff!"

The nurse squeezed her eyes for a moment. "You're certain?"

"Where is the person who came in with these?!" His hand snatched the bag from her hand.

"No, you have to be mistaken, Mr. Sebastian. You identified her."

He stopped, heart seizing.

"Where are they?"

"You identified her, right?"

"Where are they?!"

His fingers squeezed the bag until his fingers nearly ripped into it. The nurse, fully stunned, spoke quietly.

"Mr. Sebastian, your girlfriend is in that room. These can't be hers, because these bags," She patted the stack of plastic on the desk. "are on their way to the morgue."

His chest imploded, his knees shaking.

"That's not..." His brain sparked and sizzled at her words.

"That's not hers." The nurse repeated back to him, but he couldn't hear.

He dropped the plastic, and his body turned. His fingers plucked the mask up over his mouth, his eyes wide as saucers as he slid the door open. He could hear the footsteps behind him.

"Ramos?"

A deadly calm fell over Noah, his head quirking to the side.

The man's head picked up from where he was staring down at the bed. "What's going on?"

The nurse behind Noah looked panicked.

"How did you identify her?" Her voice was shaky.

"Her, uh" Ramos stood, his words uncertain. "her coat. Her name is on it."

"And?" Noah was monotone.

"Well," Ramos looked down at the bed, gesturing to it. "look at her."

"Does she have any identifying marks? Scars? Birthmarks? Tattoos?"

"What is going on?" Ramos' voice raised an octave.

"She has a tattoo."

They both turned their heads to look at Noah.

"It's on the back of her right bicep. It's new. We got them together six weeks ago." He felt a tear sliding down his face, absorbing in his mask. "It's a headstone."

The nurse just nodded, padding to the bed, and reaching a gloved hand to pull the blanket down, exposing some of the only untouched skin. Back of the right bicep.

And there it was. Clear as day.

Nothing.

It was instantaneous. No one could have prevented it. Nothing could have stopped it.

Noah collapsed.

One Year Later

Fingertips ran over the stone, smooth and unharmed. Gold chain holding it together. Only one single micro fracture in the glass. It was perfect. It always would be.

His fingers twirled it, knees bouncing up and down, eyes closed and lips moving silently.

'I love you, more than you could ever know.'

"Noah?"

His eyes opened, catching Nick's easy smile looking back at him.

"Ready?" His bass hung comfortably over his chest, ski mask in hand.

Noah's lips lifted, returning his grin.

"Yeah, let's go."

[joenotexotic99]

Hey can I request band of brothers characters x reader first time headcanons ? Also by the way I love your work.

A/n: sorry I dropped off the face of the planet for a minute. I was in a bit of a slump. Enjoy! [Lmk if you want a pt 2]

-This is a work of fiction based on the actors portrayal of these men. Every ounce of respect to the real soldiers-

Warnings: contains NSFW themes, plain filthy smut, language, minor dni.

Masterlist

Dick winters

-he's the type of man to not want to hook up or have any short term commitments. So sleeping with you would probably be when the two of you have are already been well into dating. He cares so much about you. That loving matter probably carries on into the bedroom. Will always make sure you feel comfortable and is Def big of consent. Later down the road he might get a little more adventurous but for the first time he wanted it special. Gently taking off your close. Lots of kisses. So much passion. His hands would roam your body. He might even light a few candles. Like I said he's definitely on the vanilla side. At least in the beginning of you two's sex life so it most likely would be missionary. But nevertheless he for sure rocked your world. King of aftercare.

"You look so pretty naked for me you know that"

Lewis nixon

- he has just as much respect for you as winters but is more on the spontaneous side, as well as that sleeping with you is what started your relationship. The sexual tension between you two has been going on for months until he invited you to his house for a drink and a movie. One drink in and you both got flirty and your confidence skyrocketed. One thing led to another and he had you slammed into his bedroom door in just your panties. He kisses up and down your neck before laying you down on the bed. Would be such a tease omfg. Kissing up and down your legs never going where you wanted. Making you say exactly how you want him. Forsure wants to see you ride him. Making sure your boobs get plenty of attention as well.

"Use your words baby, tell me what you want"

"Fuck nixon I want you to eat me out"

George luz

-so playful but so sweet at the same time. Cares so much about you but is so fucking horny for you at the same time. It happens after a few dates. He is super nervous but after a glass of wine from dinner and a whole lot of pinning you finally see the sexual side of him. Once you are through the door of his house his mouth is on yours and your back hits the door as you wrap your legs around his waist. I wholeheartedly believe that this man's fingering game is on top. He can make you come in less than five minutes with his fingers alone. He is big on moaning during sex. He is a vocal man. You definitely know that he's feeling good by how much he's praising you. Can see him liking when you pull his hair. Enjoys being more dominant however if you take the lead he is for sure a very happy man. Watching you ride his dick does things to him he can't explain. It's a long night of moaning, laughing and SEVERAL orgasms.

"God dammit luz I'm gonna come"

"Fuck you feel so good around me you know that"

Joseph Liebgott

-hes a big fuckin tease when you sleep together. Leaving hickies up and down your body. You would ache for him to fuck you long before he's done exploring your body. His hands roaming you as he eats you out. Would LOVE cowgirl. We all know he's a boob man. As you ride him he would pay so much attention to your boobs before making his way to your mouth he would take your face between your hands and kiss you. He brings his hands down to your waist to halt your movements before he starts slamming into you. Talks so much dirty talk and praises into your ear as he fucks you. Seeing you come would send him over the edge. Afterwards he would be so caring during after care. However when you are in the shower cleaning yourself he would not hesitate to hop in with you for round number two.

"Your body's so perfect for me, just me"

"Just you joe, just you"

Carwood lipton

- so caring the whole time omg. Like winters it happens when your relationship is already established. He would make sure you are well and comfortable the whole time. Tells you to tell him if anything hurts. Just wants you to feel good. Will probably come in his pants from eating you out, he adores you so much. When it comes to it he's so nervous he's going to hurt you but you reassure him that he's not. Will fuck you with so much passion. He makes it his mission to know every square inch of your body by the time the night ends. And he definitely does. He loves watching you tilt your head back and arch your back while you scream his name. He makes sure that you finish several times wanting you to have as much as much pleasure as possible before he even considers himself. Afterwards he would make sure that you are ok and that he never made you uncomfortable at any point.

"Am I ok? Car I just had the best sex of my life. I am more than ok"

[godesssiri]

Champaign Tastes on a Bottled Water Budget (because let’s face it, even beer isn’t cheap anymore) Thrift Tips

People are over living in white boxes. We now want richness and texture and colors and interest. Traditional design styles with lots of molding and detail and antiques are very in. People are making a living selling antiques online. Décor bloggers aspire to being able to bring back a container from European flea markets. People want to make their homes look like you have generational wealth.  But how do you have a home full of beautiful old things when you’ve got no money? Thrifting.

1. Always always check the art. Remember if you love the art but hate the frame you can always put it in a new frame, or makeover the current one. And vice versa, if you love the frame but hate what’s in it then it’s the simplest thing in the world to swap it out for something else, another piece of thrifted art, a print from Etsy or one of the many other places artists sell digital copies of their work, a color photocopy from a library book. And frames are very easy to make over, sometimes just changing the matting or painting a frame a different color or adding a little rub n buff makes a world of difference.

2. Rub n Buff or similar waxes are your friend for getting a gorgeous, antiqued look. The thrift stores are full of pieces that have great shape but they’re too modern looking for what you’re trying to achieve. But rub gold on the high points or a dark wax into the crevasses and suddenly they look completely different. I’ve got a ceramic parrot that looked very 80s when I got my hands on it but when I covered it with gold (leaving the original dark colors in the crevasses) he immediately looked like an antique. Just spray-painting something gold doesn’t have the same effect, using a wax creates depth.

3. Darken it up. Most old things are darker than new things. Darker furniture, fabrics, accessories, add depth and richness. If something is already dark, then when you thrift it then great. If it’s not then that’s what dye, paint, and stain are for.

4. Old souvenir pieces. I’ve got a load of old pieces that people have bought back from Greece and Rome, from Egypt, from China. They make my home look like it belongs to someone who has been on a Grand Tour. A lot of them are copies of ancient pieces which means they look timeless. They’re cheap tchotchkes that people have bought at gift shops but mix them in with old books and candle holders and natural pieces like chunks or crystal or large seashells, and they look classy and interesting.

5. Old books. Do you have any idea how many old books get thrown out by thrift stores? Like genuine antiques that get sent to landfill? Most thrift stores don’t want to deal with old books because they smell and harbor dust mites and are out of date and often look tatty. You may even be able to get a bunch for free if you sweet talk the volunteers. If you’re worried about dust mites, then pop them in the freezer for a few days. I know there are those who look down on people who use books just as décor, but if you using it as décor saves it from a landfill or a junk journaler and preserves it for a future generation then isn’t that a good thing?

6. Glass display items. Putting things behind glass makes them look lux and precious even if it’s some cheap trinket or even a bunch of dried leaves or other completely free natural items. Look for domes, plain clear vases you can turn upside down and glue a knob on top, display boxes holding ugly stuff that you can rip the ugly stuff out and re-purpose.

7. Antique reproductions. There’s been many points in history since humans started to mass manufacture stuff, that we have looked to the past a re-created what our forbears made by hand. There’s so much that ends up in thrift stores that looks old even if it’s no more than a few decades old. Cleverly mixing this stuff in to your décor can help you achieve the look of a home furnished with antiques at a fraction of the price.

8. Search ‘Old’ ‘Antique’ and ‘Vintage’ on FB Marketplace. Don’t get more specific than that, just literally type those terms into the search bar, set a distance you’re willing to travel, and scroll. People are always selling stuff that they don’t quite know what the heck it is, but they know it’s old. Yeah you’re gonna see a lot of trash but it’s worth it to find the treasures.

9. Candle holders and candles. I’m actually pretty meh about candles, I get why other people like them but scented candles mess with my allergies and I don’t get any joy out of candlelight – but if you feel the opposite to me, I do understand and encourage that. Candles are wonderful décor objects if you’re going to light them or not. Always check the section where your thrift store keeps candles, there’s often some really good ones. And candle holders come in so many different forms that you will always find beautiful and interesting ones. A figural brass candle holder will make my heart go pitty-pat. You don’t just have to use them for candles either, I have a gorgeously detailed pewter candle holder that I use as a display stand for a large mother-of-pearl shell, and my pair of huge Victorian cherubs currently have clear quartz crystals sticking out of them.

10. Actual antiques. I have hundreds of antiques big and small. I just tried to remember how many of them had been bought at actual antique stores and I think the total is 5. Real genuine antiques turn up in thrift stores All The Time. Sometimes the thrift store realizes what they’ve got and will price it up, more than you’d usually pay at the thrift but still way less than it’s really worth. Sometimes they don’t know/don’t care, they just want to turn over stock so they price it at whatever will get it out the door. You CAN furnish your home with antiques entirely from thrift stores. It just takes time and patience.

[like-a-masquerade]

Coord Breakdown: July 1st, 2023

Now that I've got a dedicated lolita blog, I'll be posting and discussing some of my coords, starting with a few from the past. This one's one of my personal favorites, and very meaningful to me.

JSK: Handmade

Blouse: Offbrand

Waist cincher: Handmade

Headbow: Handmade

Veil: Fanplusfriend

Choker: Handmade (sort of)

Necklace: Offbrand indie

Bracelets: Offbrand

Socks: Offbrand

Boots: Offbrand

Full breakdown under the cut.

This coord is a big milestone for me. It's my first handmade JSK (not counting a failed attempt from years earlier), and my first time using my own custom fabric!

I designed the fabric in the summer of 2022, and had it printed via Spoonflower. It's themed around Castlevania, a favorite game series of mine (and one that has quite the interesting history with lolita! Did you know Mana composed a ringtone to promote Harmony of Dissonance that is now lost media?). Each of the stained glass windows depicts one of the subweapons used throughout the games (plus wall chicken), which are also repeated as a motif inside the stripes. If you look closely, you can also see the modern and retro Castlevania logo incorporated into the surrounding glass. Beneath the windows are gravestone-like blocks, each with the name of a game's protagonists and the year the game takes place. At the hem is a quote that has been attributed to a number of people, including Winston Churchill, but is notably said by Alucard and Richter at the end of Symphony of the Night. Finally, above the border print is a pair of wall-mounted candles, which can be found throughout Castlevania and destroyed to gain ammo or other upgrades. According to IGA, these candles contain the restless spirits of Dracula's victims, who drop upgrades as thanks for freeing them from the castle.

Here are some closeups, one of which is in the black colorway! I've got four different colorways available on Spoonflower, each inspired by a different character (Richter, Alucard, Juste, and Maria). You can find them here. The fabric I chose for my JSK is poly crepe de chine.

But enough fabric talk. Have at you!

The cut of the JSK is based on Bodyline's Skull in Wonderland JSK, which I've owned for years now; It's simple and fits me well, so I figured using it as a template would be the most effective way to make a good JSK for myself without too much hassle. Making clothes based on existing garments you own is a tried-and-true method in fashion design and home sewing.

I actually debuted the JSK about a month earlier while on vacation, with a different coord:

However, I couldn't help feeling that it was a bit lackluster. After much thought and advice from friends, I decided to spruce things up and give it another try at the then-upcoming renfaire.

This time I used one of my summer blouses, an offbrand peasant top I got at Rainbow forever ago- I think the brand is Ambiance? I also bought a set of bracelets (also from Rainbow, and they've now become a staple of my wardrobe), and a pair of black lace-topped OTKs in place of the plain black tights I'd worn before. For the rest of the jewelry, I wore a glittery purple bat necklace I'd bought from a renfaire vendor years ago (I wish I knew the name!! If anyone recognizes it please let me know!), and a scrap of black lace with a small safety pin through the back as a choker.

Finally, the remaining accessories. I made a wired headbow out of leftover fabric from the dress, with a beaded chain in front. I wore this over a veil from Fanplusfriend. As for the waist cincher, I made it out of stretch pleather and lace, along with black fabric to tie in the back. I used gold acrylic paint to add a nice patina to the leather, and hand-painted our pal Simon Belmont in a coordinating color scheme. My parents said it looks like a wrestling belt, lol.

Regarding the boots, I know damn well that the renfaire grounds are muddy and uneven, so I wore a pair of riding boots I originally bought for a Joseph Joestar cosplay way back in the day. Sometimes you gotta sacrifice a little bit for practicality's sake.

All in all, I'm very proud of how this coord came out. It was really amazing seeing something I designed come to life, and working hard to make it truly beautiful. I hope this inspires other folks to try their hand at designing and making lolita!

[lucalicatteart]

Poll adventure (paventure? lol) Day 14: read the small story tidbit below the poll for more details, OR just vote based on initial impression

(✦ see past poll results + further information HERE (link) ✦)

Yesterday's poll decided that The Adventurer should relax by spending his afternoon shopping ..

~

He trots down the mossy cobblestone walkway, gazing around in awe as he approaches the central hub of the small city. Tiny shops and stalls and carts are woven through the few clusters of taller buildings, with a modest crowd bustling back and forth between them. Despite much of the land being cleared for structures and pathways, it's still lush with greenery wherever it can be, every blank stone wall or street corner dotted with trailing vines and flowering fruit trees.

After spending a good 25 minutes trying to orient himself at the city map directory, he finally finds his way onto one of the primary shopping streets, eager to spend the afternoon lazily strolling about, trying to ignore his physical aches and just take in all the sights as he hunts for interesting items....

...A few hours (and multiple snack breaks) later, the streets begin to glow with a hazy warmth as lanterns are lit, marking the nearing sunset. Possibly because of the fight yesterday, he's felt shakier, more easily startled than usual, and suddenly realizes an urgent need to be safely inside his room at the inn before nightfall. He wanted to stay out longer, see the lights and the crowds, fascinating scenes of city nightlife he's never been exposed to before.. but, his nerves are impossible to ignore.

Begrudgingly preparing to slink off towards the inn in a sweaty anxious panic, he stops in the doorway, resolving to at LEAST buy himself ONE nice item before he leaves. He doesn't have much money, sure, but it'd be a shame to simply look around all day and not get anything. All travelers need to collect their souvenirs, right? But.. What should he get?

-

-

Additional Information (feel free to skip this part, it's just extra context for people who are interested lol)

just for record (in case it influences what people think he should buy), this is the adventurer's current inventory contents:

small journal + pencil to document his travels (and a few colored pencils for sketching plants or doodling)

a basic travel guide booklet

a simple map of the area

a small glass lantern case you can put candles in

fire starting materials

basic matches

first aid kid (a few bandages, simple antibacterial balm, some dried herbs that can be used for minor issues like stomach aches or nausea)

one metal cup, one metal bowl/plate thing, one metal fork/spoon, a cooking knife, and one metal pot for cooking over the fire

a basic toiletry bag (toothbrush, herbal mixture toothpaste type thing, bar of soap, one towel, a rag, a few disposable paper napkins, moisturizing oil, hair brush, a tiny cracked mirror)

three bottles of various spice mixes for flavoring the plain/bland food he usually forages on the road (+ plain salt)

a glass jar of berries

a container of plain dried oats

a container of dried beans

half a loaf of stale bread

one carrot he found

a bag of dried fruit

about 15 coins (maybe equivalent to $45 USD in our world money lol)

a basic fishing kit (simple lures, hooks, string)

two containers of canned fish just as a back up in case he ever can't find fresher food for the cat

a cheesy fairytale romance novel about people going on a grand heroic journey, to help give him inspiration to continue on his own travels and be the ultimate Super Cool Adventurer Hero

an old folded up letter from his family

a fabric pouch of cool shiny rocks + other trinkets he's collected

one change of underwear, one change of socks, + winter gloves

foldable saw

some twine/string

a basic sewing kit (2 needles, one spool of thread, a thimble)

lawyer's business card (from boat party)

lawyer's fancy expensive giant scarf (also from party)

1 lunchbox of vegetable dumplings (from Innkeeper)

2 canteens of water

a small dagger for cutting rope, vines, multipurpose anything

a little tin of mint & rose flavored candies for when his mouth gets dry

a box of cubed dried chicken as cat treats

a box of fancy tea

one large rope

a roll of fabrics (one thick blanket for padding when sleeping on the ground, some basic tent fabric to make shelter from, a few spare fabric scraps, 2 cloth napkin/towel things, two cloth sacks for extra carrying capacity if needed)

1 pouch of dried meat

5 candles

Innkeeper's hand-drawn map to her brother's hideout

and of course, the Mysterious Egg in a little wooden box

the adventurer's current main quest: follow his map to reach the abandoned castle ruins and see the rare animal specialist about the mysterious egg he has

[the-blackorchid1]

Check out this listing I just added to my Poshmark closet: HALLOWS EVE SKULL PRINT STEMLESS WINE GLASSES NEW Set of 4 halloween gothic.

[memoirsofacitygatherer]

The wonders of being an urban scavenger

Yesterday, I was walking around my hometown, lurking between the small streets. I tried to find which sentimental objects were hiding in plain site to become part of my collection. While it is not a menagerie or a pompous exhibition, my collection is how I visualize my memories for all to see in my humble room.

I already have a few posters on the wall: a movie synopsis featuring the glimmering Isabelle Adjani acting in the bone-chilling Possession, a striking Lucian Freud painting, and a print of Marc Chagall's masterpiece, “The Birthday.” Below them lie my postcards, glued to the wall haphazardly with some painter's tape. I tore them from my grandmother’s scrapbooks. Some are eerie birthday cards from the 1970s, and some are photos from a long-gone era where excessiveness and glamour were the standard. 

On the desk lie the books and CDs I found during my previous urban gathering efforts. On the left lies Morrisey’s Bona Drag in a shining jewel case. I found it on a bench, mixed in a garbage bag of old 80s clothing. It was hidden between a stirrup pant and an angular blazer. Besides, it is my most sacred CD, a copy of Haircut 100’s Pelican West Plus. When I was only a child, it was my mom’s favorite to listen to around dinnertime. 

On the far right are my books. So far, I have only read Michel Houellebecq’s Lanzarote and Marcel Proust’s Swanns Way. All of the other books capture the latter’s air. They are reminiscent of a marvelous era now quashed by cynicism and consumerism. I read not to learn nor to entertain my boredom. Instead, I read to see what life is like from another perspective, one that is so drastically different from mine. 

After reading on the bus, I could sense some nearby treasure. Like a pirate with a map, I began to explore the playing grounds. It is important to state that I do have boundaries- I do not steal, nor do I take away anything that seems to still have a purpose. I never aim to cause emotional distress to anybody. I only take what I am allowed to and what is absolutely earmarked for disposal. 

The best places to look are always the little street libraries. They contain the most abundant mixtures of books, CDs, and posters. With those, I take what I can. I try to disregard the sentence carved on their glass doors. It declares that I should only “take something and give something back.” I cannot afford to be generous, especially since people leave what they do not want to use again or what has surpassed its time.

I often finish these trips after checking nearby parks or when my side bag is too heavy to carry. This time, I ran home quickly and threw my findings on the bed. After the sunset, I turned on my candle, sat on the bed, and went through everything. It was another successful catch.

(Original photo)

[safeenaposts]

Pretty table centre pieces to level up the celebration

The new additions to decoration that are now trending are table centre pieces. They are no longer just a collection of flowers placed in an unassuming arrangement. These days, a wedding décor gets enhanced by these little beauties that are equidistantly placed in the centre. A fantastic table centre piece can be the difference-maker at any event, whether you want to go all out, keep it simple, or add something special.

Don’t overlook this important aspect during this wedding season. Here are some amazing table centre piece designs that will give your wedding decor the finishing touch!

Geometric centerpiece

The highly detailed work by the talented artists in designing these table centre pieces can elevate the total look and feel of the decoration. These are designed with geometrical shapes such as a pentagon and pyramid, and when the candle in the holder is lit, the atmosphere is improved overall. It seems more enticing because of its flawless gloss and silky texture. It can be used as a candle holder or as a container for flowers. Its primary use is as a table center piece. These highlight the beauty of the venue. These might be the ideal choice for your wedding or birthday party décor.

Candelabra

The shiny gold metal candle stand with arms can be placed anywhere; however, when used as table centerpieces, they offer a unique look. The candle holder can be used as a table center piece for the dinner table or to accommodate LED candles. When lit, the metal candle holder may add a touch of sophistication and shine to the ambience.

Glass Vase

These can be used as table centre pieces at the dinner table or as an additional stage decoration item to enhance the elegance of the decoration. If you prefer a fresh sense, you can use lovely natural flowers, or you can use artificial flowers to maintain the charm throughout the duration of the event.

Manzanita Trees

Manzanita trees make an excellent choice as center pieces. They can be decorated in different ways, ranging from plain trees or tree branches with dangling candles to lavish floral arrangements that cascade down. These trees give a vintage look when placed at the centre of the hall or in the open area. However, smaller-sized manzanita trees can also be used as table centre pieces. These artificial trees create a lovely first impression that lasts long in the memories of your guests.

Pillar Centrepiece

These table centerpieces are designed with rectangular frames with a candle holder. These are sure to enhance the beauty of the venue when you place it on the dining table if it’s a wedding event or one on either side of the cake if it’s a birthday party.

Conclusion

These are just a few to name. Be it a wedding or a birthday, decoration items add to the beauty of the event. Any event should not cost a fortune. Therefore, it is very important to look for places where you can find wedding decor items at wholesale prices. National Traders are one of the best manufacturers and suppliers of decoration items for any event at the most affordable prices. So, next time you are planning an event, do not fail to check the wonderful products offered by National Traders.

[sunnyglassware]

(via Wholesale solar ring glass candle jars manufacturers,Sunny Glassware)

[electricea]

"I guess the lowkey cases must be pretty nice," Relaxing even, was what he wanted to say, though he kept this to himself as he didn't quite know what her reaction to such a statement would be. Although, boring lowkey cases like this did rather sound like a nice chance to just take it easy and and take your time with it - after all, if the stakes were as low as finding someone's lost object, then there wasn't any real rush or urgency to it, was there? Though perhaps it was this very laziness and lax nature that would have made him a poor detective to begin with. He was much more comfortable helping her out, instead.

"Okay, then!" He cheerfully opens up the night stand, not finding much of note - an old black comb, a small wooden container meant for containing glasses and the little cloth that usually accompanied it, the sort that was good for cleaning classes, though this cloth had a bit of a dust coating over it from lack of use and upon opening the case, the glasses looked like they could use a good cleaning themselves, being covered in various marks.

Laying neatly on the bottom of the nightstand were a few unlit candles, plain beige looking ones that, strangely enough, didn't seem to have much of a scent to them at all - even so, he added it to his tiny and growing collection of little objects, hoping at least one of them can be of some use to her in her investigation. Brushing his hand against the side of the bed to remove any lingering dust, he lays out each of his objects.

"This comb, a container with someone's glasses and a cloth to clean them with and some candles, but I can't tell if they've been used or not," He muses, now turning his head at her discoveries. "So, do you think this was the oldest daughter's room at some point? Would make sense, yeah?"

electricea-archive​:

“So, what if we don’t end up fighting anything then?” Everything here looked to be completely untouched and while it was interesting to be able to search through someone’s home, he still wondered what exactly she was looking for and if she would find it.  Although, perhaps he shouldn’t be so skeptical - she was a detective after and all and if anyone was going to notice anything important, that would surely be her.  He was just happy to tag along and he hoped that by the end, he could contribute something valuable - however small, that might be.

“Sure, sounds good,” Clutching the planner under his arms, he followed behind her to the gate outside.  Handing over the daily planner was easy enough, even if he didn’t know what was going to happen.  Were those guys there to look through it, maybe even check it for prints or something like that…? Immediately, his mind went to all of the old detective shows he had once seen on television.  Maybe they’d even take it to a lab!

With his giddy thought in mind, he eagerly followed behind her, pausing at the entrance to the hallway - as there seemed to be a few directions they could go in.  Before he could even think to ask, she seemed to have already come up with a solution - one that he was perfectly fine with.  “Okay then!” He smiled and gave her a thumbs up, now heading toward the closest room on the right side.

This would be his first room!

Hopefully, he’d find something interesting!

Turning the handle, the door slowly opened as he found himself face to face with what looked like a really old - and a really dusty looking bedroom, its only contents being a dusty old king sized bed, a tiny wooden cabinet directly next to it - and at the back wall of the room was a small wooden wardrobe.

“I found a room with some drawers in it! I’ll look and see if they have anything!”

“I wouldn’t be terribly disappointed. The cases I take aren’t always exciting.” Detective novels embellish so much of how things actually work, however, sticking close to realism would make for an incredibly dull tale. In fact, having an extraordinary case waltz to her front door would be a welcome change of pace. Mundane clients with mundane requests, uninteresting police cases that have been on a back burner for who knows how long, only dusted due to the contract made with her grandfather…

Sakamoto’s announcement causes her to immediately leave the sad excuse of a room and join him in the potential treasure trove of objects worth taking. A bed, wardrobe and a nightstand. “I’ll let you take care of the nightstand, then.” Naoto directs her attention to the bed, carefully peeling back the comforter still spread across. If not for the poor quality of the bed and everything else, she’d have questioned why it was left here.

She then directs her attention to the wardrobe. Opening it reveals no entrance to Narnia, but a single wool jumper that has been eaten by moths. Nobody would want that. Upon closer inspection, left on the floor is a black, leather-bound book of some kind. Coming from a profession where snooping comes with the job, Naoto feels no shame in flipping through its contents.

The former occupant was a teenage girl and madly in love at some point in her life. It makes sense. The client has three daughters. This is something to bring back. “I found a diary belonging to the former occupant of the room. Judging by the handwriting and content, the eldest of my client’s three daughters. Have you uncovered anything?”

@electricea​

[ashonheavenscloud]

Beautiful || Bang Chan

Beautiful || Bang Chan for kinktober

🔞CONTAINS EXPLICIT SEXUAL CONTENT! MINORS DNI!🔞

warnings: dom!chan/sub!fem!reader, praise, breast play, teasing, mirror kink, fingering, back-to-chest, ice play!!

word count: 3.2K

🎧: beautiful - hyunjin’s unreleased song that i am DESPERATE to be released😩

—————————————————————————

Your apartment had never been as beautiful as it was tonight.

Candles flickered from their place on table tops, the coffee table, and one even hung from the ceiling in a glass jar, held up by a metal hook. The stand up mirror in the corner of the living room had been strung with fairy lights, and the curtains had been drawn shut. You’d dimmed the lights, set the table with a pretty green tablecloth and even brought out the seasoned wine you’d been waiting on for a while now, waiting for the right occasion. Beside each glass stood cups of ice cold water and sprigs of mint and lemon- you were pulling all the stops out tonight.

And Chan, your fiance, coming home from his business trip after nearly three weeks away from home, seemed celebration enough.

Your heart was in your throat, nerves dancing like a swarm of butterflies in your chest. There wasn’t a word to explain how much you’d missed him. He filled your life in every aspect- his touch, his words, his smile- and you couldn’t believe you’d lasted almost a full month without his presence beside you. Phone calls and video chats had been as frequent as possible, but they weren’t at all the same as him actually being here.

But tonight, you wouldn’t be seeing him through a screen and hearing his voice through a speaker. He’d be back home, back to you, in… you checked your phone for the time: 8:24 pm.

Any minute now.

He’d called half an hour ago to let you know that his flight had landed safely and he would catch a taxi home. You’d immediately set to work, prepping food to go in the oven later, decorating the place, and making sure you were wearing one of his oversized shirts. You knew he loved when you wore his clothes.

Your plan for the night was relatively simple- a nice meal of chicken stir-fry and store bought egg rolls, where you could catch up on the missed time, you would watch your favourite show (and hopefully pay attention to none of it), which would of course lead to a heavy make-out session, complete with sex and cuddling in bed. You couldn’t wait to fall asleep next to him again.

The stage was set. Everything was ready.

And as soon as Chan stepped through the door, it all fell apart.

You weren’t even granted a moment to speak before he’d dropped his suitcase on the ground, rushed to you and kissed you, hand slipping around the back of your neck to pull you to him, tilting your head just the right way to have your body tingling. You couldn’t help but sigh, relaxing into the kiss, threading a hand through his hair before he pulled back, a smile bright on his face.

“Oh my god, I missed you.” He whispered, thumb brushing your cheek, like he was touching a piece of art. The action made you want to scream. Somehow, the space between had made him ten thousand times more beautiful in your eyes now that he was back. You took in his messy curls half hidden with a beanie, the jeans and plain black shirt that dressed his body, the faint stubble on his cheeks, often the result of busy weeks. Every bit of him was gorgeous.

“Me, too.” You whispered, playing with his curls, appreciating the feeling of them between your fingers after so long. Out of all the things you’d missed during Chan’s trip away, it was this closeness, this intimacy, that had been missed the most. Feeling him, feeling connected to him. You wanted nothing right now more than to kiss him and feel him, the boy you’d missed like he was a very part of your body, and extension of your heart.

It was almost like he could read your mind- his lips were back on yours, and dinner and your show and a follow-up of cuddles and the entire plan was tossed out the window. You couldn’t focus on anything but the enthusiasm of his kiss, at the desperation in it. Clearly, you hadn’t been the only one missing and craving touch.

“Miss me that much?” You giggled against his lips, and the way he looked back at you gave you wild butterflies.

“Every day.” He whispered, kissing you again, and mumbling against your lips. “You have no clue how much.”

His kisses quickly turned feverish, as his body guided you back, sitting you on the arm of the couch. Your hands found their way through his locks, the beanie slipping to the floor as you pressed him closer to you, making him grunt into the kiss, hands on the back of your neck. “God-”

His lips slipped to your jawline, snappy kisses heating up your body. His fingers slipped between your shoulder and your shirt, pulling the fabric up and over your head in one swift movement. Your body tingled as his eyes roamed your skin, hands wasting no time to discard your bra and move to fondle your breasts. He cupped them and squeezed, releasing to enjoy the way they bounced. You couldn’t tear your eyes away as he played with them, leaning in to capture one of the buds between his teeth. The wet feeling of his tongue on your nipple was divine, your head tipping back as you bit your lip to hold back a moan.

“Fuck, you’re so pretty and perfect.” He groaned, teasing the nipple further. You whined, toes curling, body writhing at the intensity of the feeling. He chuckled, hands finding your hips to keep you in place for him as he slowly sucked.

Your eyes rolled shut, swirls of pleasure tingling through your body and finding their way to your clenching core, desperate for his touch inside of you. You made that clear by winding your legs around Chan’s midsection, pleased to feel the boner under his pants. You palmed it over the fabric, rewarded with a buck of his hips and a harsh groan as he released your nipple.

“I…” his eyes raised to yours, heavy and dark. “I’m afraid I have to ruin your plans for the night.”

“Please,” you wound your arms around his neck, pressing a slow kiss to his lips. “Be my guest.”

Without another word, Chan picked you up, arms securely under your ass- and then he was kissing you again, no less needy than before. You softly moaned into the kiss, addicted to the warmth of his body against your skin. You couldn’t wait for him to be even closer, and it seemed like Chan had the same opinion. He didn’t waste time discarding his jeans and shirt and finding a spot on the couch, hands gripping your waist as you straddled his hips and pressed against his chest.

From here the kiss turned into pure heat. Sloppy and open mouthed, while Chan’s hands slipped up to tease your nipples with harsh rubs. Your legs closed tighter around his thighs at the heat spreading to the pit of your tummy, making Chan grin as he subtly lifted his hips, letting you feel the hard boner straining against his boxers and staining them with precum.

“Shit,” You moaned, with a small laugh. “You’re going to drive me insane one day.”

He flashed you a cheeky grin, before leaning forward and kissing each of your breasts gently. Then he pulled back, eyes glancing around the room.

“You really went all out.” He whispered, eyes sparkling in the dim light. You smiled shyly, but he didn’t seem to notice, eyes fixed on something else that had caught his attention.

After a few seconds, he blinked, and turned back to you. A slow smile crept up his lips, and then he hovered over you, slipping kisses up and down your shoulder.

“I know exactly what to do with you tonight.”

His sultry tone threw your mind into a spiral and had you clenching around nothing. All your attention latched onto him, the rumble of his voice, the glint in his dark eyes. “W-what?”

His smile was almost devilish as he kissed your lips, dragging at your bottom lip when he pulled away. “Let me make you feel good.” He whispered.

His lips descended on your skin, kissing down your chest, over your breasts and down to your navel. In the meantime, his hands undressed you, discarding your shorts and panties, spreading you wide for him. You shivered as the cold air greeted you, and for some reason, that seemed to make Chan grin.

“Cold?”

“Not for long.” You responded cheekily, and Chan giggled.

“Oh?”

His mouth trailed back up your body and connected with your lips. His one hand rushed to thread through your hair and pull you close, the roughness of his touch making you softly moan into his mouth, greeted by the poke of his tongue as he messily kissed you. Your hands quickly began to tug at his locks, hips subconsciously grinding against his right thigh desperately for friction against your aching, tight core.

Chan grunted when a particular grind came in contact with his girth, and pulled away, eyes locked on yours. His voice was low when he told you, “Turn around.”

Heart thrumming with excitement, you did what you were told as Chan discarded his boxers and you settled back on his lap, back pressed to his chest, ass resting over his hard dick. The feeling made your core clench around nothing.

Chan’s mouth found your shoulder, sucking on the skin and leaving a sting with each blooming red mark. You groaned at the feeling, head lolling against his shoulder. At this Chan shook his head, one hand coming up to grip your chin and make you face forward.

“Look,” he said, and that’s when you noticed the mirror; lit up with fairy lights, and perfectly angled to hold your image in the glass. You looked like a mess, but even more so- even hotter- so did Chan. His curls were wild on his head, toned body already slightly sweaty, lips red from kissing you. You watched almost trancelike as Chan slipped a hand under your breast and squeezed, while the other found its way between your legs to spread them out.

“You’re so goddamn beautiful.” He whispered, lustful eyes meeting yours in the reflection, as he leaned down to place a slow wet kiss to the crook of your neck. You shivered at the touch, the need in your sex nearly unbearable by now. 

“Fuck, Chan-”

He didn’t respond, simply sliding his fingers between your folds, the feel of his fingers like electricity. You inhaled sharply, curling into Chan, who grinned.

“You must have really missed me, considering how fucking soaked you are.” He teased, leaning forward to take your earlobe in his mouth, sucking and nibbling on the sensitive spot. You whined, impatient, but Chan was always a good multitasker. His thumb rubbed between your slit, finding your clit and gently pinching it between his fingers. You hissed, writhing, and his other hand moved down to hold your hips in place.

“Stay still, baby.” He murmured, and you obeyed as his hand dipped further, and he eased his first finger into your pulsing core. 

Your eyes watched in the mirror as your pussy swallowed him desperately, and the image made your skin burn at how filthy it all was, how absolutely dirty the two of you looked already. Chan’s eyes stayed fixed on you in the reflection while he slowly began a pace, pleasuring your body with every rub of his finger against your slick walls. You struggled to keep your head up, small moans bubbling up your throat as his other hand slipped back up to palm your nipples.

“Good girl.” He whispered, eyes never leaving yours as he slowly leaned forward and languidly mouthed and sucked at your neck, pace rapidly speeding up. Your moans came out broken as he added another two fingers in one go, curling his fingers just so. You whimpered at the feeling, heatwaves rushing through your body and straight to your core.

“Feel good, babygirl?” 

“Yes, god-” you broke off into a moan when his thumb started to rub on your clit. “Perfect.”

Chan offered a slow, wet kiss to your shoulder before pulling his fingers out completely. You whined at the sudden emptiness, catching his gaze in the mirror. “C-chan-”

Wordlessly, he reached beside the couch, and you watched with a frown as he grabbed one of the glasses of water resting on the side table. You watched with uncertainty as he reached into the glass to pick out a cube of ice, about the size of a marble.

Instantly you knew what was about to happen- this wasn’t your first time with ice play. Your core jolted at the anticipation, as Chan brought the glassy piece of ice to rub it over your inner thigh. The cold was shocking to your system, and you jerked, hastily gripping at Chan’s wrist. He chuckled, pressing his lips to the shell of your ear, grinning. “Relax, baby.” He whispered, cooing.

Your breaths came out shaky, wild excitement pulsing through your body as Chan rubbed circles over your thighs with the frigid cube of ice. With every swirl, he brought the piece of ice closer and closer to your throbbing core, clenching needily. And then at last, he slipped it between your folds, making you gasp at the cold. Chan’s lips were attached to your body again, slipping to the other shoulder to kiss and tongue over the skin; but his eyes- his fucking eyes- never left yours in the mirror, as he pressed the ice further, deeper, entering your hole.

And god, it was glorious.

The freezing sensation was overwhelming, but the slick wetness of the cube soothed and pleasured your walls in ways that had your eyes glazing over, mindless whines tumbling from your lips. Chan paused his movements, as the ice simply sat there, melting in your pussy, trickling slowly out- and it was agonizing, how little and how much it gave you at the same time, as you tossed your head back, moaning. “Chan, fuck-”

“I know, my love.” He gently kissed your jawline, voice gravelly and quiet. “Feels good, doesn’t it, beautiful?”

“Fuck, fuck yes-” You groaned, squirming, but Chan’s hands quickly gripped your waist to keep you still.

“I got you,” he whispered, and his fingers were back, slipping into you to join the mess, and beginning a slow rub inside your hole. His other hand grabbed onto your thigh, spreading you further, stretching you further for him.

You clenched around him when he dug in deeper, vaguely grinding into the motion as his thumb found your clit again, rubbing the swollen bundle of nerves. 

“You’re my good girl, letting me play with you, aren’t you?” Chan practically growled, his fingers scissoring you quickly, and you could barely speak, the knot in your stomach beginning to clench painfully. Your head tilted back further, eyes flickering, mouth wide open.

“I- I-”

“Eyes on me, beautiful.” Chan whispered, sinking his fingers in deeper, the cold of the ice cube shocking your g-spot, making your walls clench around him. You moaned softly, struggling to lift your head to meet Chan’s gaze in the mirror. His eyes were glazed over as he stared back at you, absolutely love drunk.

“God, I missed ruining you like this.” He half groaned, lips finding the crook of your neck, pressing open mouthed kisses to your skin as he began a slow pace, digging his fingers further with every push. As the ice melted, cold water continued to trickle out your entrance in slow rivers, the sensation almost overwhelmingly pleasant, making your eyes roll back. Your breaths were heavy. Your body was burning, heat crawling over every inch of your skin despite the freezing cold of the ice inside you. The addictive feeling paired with his slick fingers pumping into you, his mouth sucking at the junction of your jaw, and his cock hard under your ass had the knot tightening in your stomach already.

“You’re so good for me.” Chan whispered, his other hand moving to rub at your clit, sending shockwaves through your body as you squirmed and whined, digging your hips down to chase the pleasure they granted. Your hands gripped his thighs shakily as he chuckled, sucking at your skin, moving two fingers in a circular motion over your clit.

You stuttered out a moan, head lolling back, sparks of heat rushing through your veins. “G-god, Chan-”

“Yes, beautiful?”

“D-don’t stop.” You pleaded, eyes squeezed shut, mind spinning with pleasure. Chan’s response was to giggle, and peck your cheek, before moving to whisper in your ear.

“Wasn’t planning on it.”

His fingers curled in just the right way, pressing the ice against your g-spot, making you gasp and whimper. “M-more.”

“Such a greedy little thing.” He teased, but he removed his fingers and with effort, found a comfortable position to slip his length in from behind. The angle was perfect though, and you saw stars as he pushed into you, filling you to the brim as he bottomed out. His pace was quickly set, steady and firm, causing you to choke on moans with every roll of his hips. Cold water still seeped from your pussy, and Chan hissed at the icy feeling on his cock, which twitched and pulsed inside you. “Fuck.”

His pace sped up, and you met him halfway, desperately chasing your oncoming high. One arm wrapped around to hold your chin in place, forcing you to watch every moment of your desperate, feral sex. Chan’s eyes were particularly wild, and in the end his gaze on yours was what made you come hard, vision going white as your walls clenched around him and you moaned long and loud.

Chan continued to rut up into you, grip on your chin never loosening, his other hand moving to tightly grip your waist. “Such a good pussy, my good girl-”

You moaned, his hips beginning to stutter and lose their tempo. At last he came, spilling into you and milking his release for a moment before he stilled completely.

You made to move off of him, but both of his arms wound tightly around you, keeping you to his chest. Chan softly kissed your back several times, whispering in between each one, “Let’s stay here for a bit. Please. I just want to feel you. I missed you so goddamn much.”

You instantly melted, resting tiredly against his chest as he continued to kiss along your skin softly, taking you in. Your hands reached back to play with his curls absentmindedly, and he sighed, resting his chin in the crook of your shoulder.

“You’re beautiful.” He whispered, and you thought you might never get used to him saying that. 

Or slowly whispering it back.

[windvexer]

spirit houses: a container spell for your spirit vessel needs

In honor of realizing how much easier spirit boxes have made my life, here's a full moon post about spirit boxes 101.

A spirit box (maybe it has a bunch of other names; I don't know of any others) is a box which functions as both a house and a vessel for a spirit.

Spirit houses in and of themselves have historical precedence.

Trial records con­tain references to demon familiars living in glass or leather bottles; crystals; baskets; boxes; earthenware pots lined with wool kept under the stairs or by the hearth; under borders of 'green herbs' in the garden and under the roots or in the hollows of trees. Wilby, Emma. Cunning Folk and Familiar Spirits (2005), 77

In the text above, many containers and locations are referenced. For simplicity's sake, I'm going to talk about boxes in this post. In this post, spirit box and spirit house are synonymous.

Why use a container-based spirit house?

I use 'em because I ran out of altar space. It's not even like my "inner keep" is chock full of spirits. It's just that sometimes, spirits don't like to have room mates and keeping everyone happy can require a lot of space.

For me, I have a lot of objects dedicated to my spirits. Using a non-container vessel (such as a quartz crystal) doesn't solve my space needs, because then I'd have a bunch of devoted objects and a vessel crystal to deal with.

It helps because the spaces devoted to each spirit are clearly delineated. This makes some stuff like psychic communication less confusing (more on this later).

I have a belief that spirits can literally enjoy objects placed within their home. Filling a spirit box with comfortable, lovely things actually allows the spirit to enter this space and enjoy their gifts.

Giving offerings and other interactions are simplified. No spoons for an offering ritual? Leave a gift on or in the container and it belongs to the spirit now (not in if the object will rot and need to be disposed of!!! we all know we'll forget about it). Did the spirit really piss you off? Put a black cloth (or t-shirt) over the container and move it to the back of your closet. No ritual or spell required.

(Also, re-arranging and moving them around is a heck of a lot easier than open altar spaces)

They also function as spirit vessels, btw

You want to meditate, commune, work with, or give instructions to the spirit? Easy peasy - the spirit house functions as a spirit vessel. Touch it or interact with it to also interact with the spirit.

Make them by 1) finding a container and 2) giving it to the spirit

Cleanse it if you want. Definitely try to make sure it's clean. Some beliefs might dictate that air gaps are required for the spirit to move in and out of the vessel (so, no sealed jars).

Then, give it to the spirit. A ritual or spell is fine if you want to do one. Otherwise, get into the zone where you feel close to the spirit (as close as reasonably possible in the moment; no need to feel like you're having a numinous experience just to get the job done).

When you're in you're zone (or like, just sitting in your room calling to the spirit a few times), announce (internally or externally) that you're giving the container to the spirit.

And yeah, how about that! That's all it takes.

Maybe frontload the process with a few gifts, though

An empty, plain balsa wood box isn't too impressive. I mean, an opportunity to imprint on a physical vessel and come ever-closer to our physical world is a gift in and of itself. But it's still an empty container.

Try popping some gifts in that bad boy at the same time as you dedicate it to the spirit.

Ideas for initial gifts:

Something soft and comfy for the spirit to sleep on (soft fabric pad will do; good chance to put your crochet skills to use!)

Something interesting or valuable (coins, miniature figurines, neat beads, etc)

An energy offering (candles; incense; food or beverages; your own energy; most disposable offerings should be left on or near the vessel, not inside of it)

Stuff they'd personally like

Things that are sentimental to you, which you gift to the spirit as a form of your personal reverence towards them

In the future, you can add and remove gifts. I'd definitely double-check with the spirit before removing anything at all, but you can.

You can also do magic with it

Ask the spirit to charge and enchant an object, and place the object in the spirit house for a full moon cycle (or longer, or less; the spirit should be able to tell you).

Include spirit petitions asking them to do tasks, or house rules to follow, etc.

The spirit houses make an ideal way to commune with spirits, especially as opposed to shared altar spaces.

You can literally pick up and move a spirit box into the area where you're doing divination. Or, touch it and use a pendulum or practice psychism (or hold it while you're meditating).

I personally just find this convenient.

Consider being open to developing them over time

You don't need to wait to devote a spirit box to a spirit until it's fully decorated, you have tons of objects to fill it up, etc.

The spirit box can grow and change to reflect your relationship with that spirit.

Spirits can and will ask for things, ask for the container to be modified in some way, and so on. Watching the collection of devotional items grow is a beautiful thing.

After all, it's not like spirits will like everything you want to give them. It might be a waste of time to agonize over collecting offerings before you've even gotten feedback on the initial spirit house itself!

Do your best to be open to input from the spirit about what kind of home it wants and what kind of things it wants.

A few more witchy notes:

If the spirit box is for a familiar, strive to include a portion of the physical species of the familiar (acorns for an Oak familiar; bobcat skull for a Bobcat familiar, etc).

Soil can make a very suitable "bed" for chthonic, dead, and certain earthen spirits - ask them about it, but it's definitely an option.

If your spirit has no original body on earth (e.g. it is a grandmother dollie and isn't associated with any living spirit), make a body for it (like, make a poppet) and keep the body in the house.

The spirit box, in and of itself, gives the spirit a greater foothold in this world. So don't take this step if you're not ready for it.

Feed your spirits often with earthly substances to give them power in this world

When you and the spirit have a falling out

If the relationship is done, try to act with honor if possible. Announce (as ritualistically as possible, is my recommendation) that the spirit is no longer welcome to use this container as a home, and that you will strike any spirit from using it.

Take the things out. Really wouldn't recommend taking back gifts, so only give gifts that you're happy with never having back. But dispose of them properly. E.g. if you've given a lot of coins as offerings, bury them so the spirit can still have them.

Nuke the container's energies, Announce that your permission for the container to be used as a Vessel are Revoked, and get rid of the container.

Yeah, it's UPG, but this is also my post, so -- cleansing and re-using some objects is fine for some magic. "This is a physical object that I gave to a spirit so it can have a foot-hold in this world and affect my physical reality, but now we're not friends any more and I want to use the jar for my prosperity spell" is not a great situation.

Strive to only use containers and gifts for spirits that you are willing to never, ever reclaim.

(Big asterisk on this for practitioners worth their salt; but for beginners, I don't recommend risking it)

(the "container spell" in the title is a bit tongue-in-cheek but I thought it was funny so I'm keeping it; I guess this all counts as a spell, sort of, so it's probably fine)

[that-catholic-shinobi]

Im not gonna get super involved in the Protastant/ Catholic aesthetic debate but I will say this.

I think it comes down, like most things, to the Eucharist.

I’ve been in a lot of Protestant churches and a lot of them don’t even feel like churches. There was one I couldn’t even tell was a church. There was a concrete foyer with a bookshop and coffee shop and the congregation area had a small stage and folding chairs like a high school gym. Absolutely nothing to indicate this should be a place of God or Christ.

Catholics use gold (at least traditionally) for anything that contains the Holy Eucharist, because the Body, Blood, Soul and Divinity of Christ himself rests there. A king deserves a fitting resting place. His home should be beautiful and holy.

There’s this but I also want to talk about the tangibility of worship. Incense. Statues, stain glass, kneeling - all these things orient has to Christ but we are finite and God is infinite.

Humans have senses. We touch and smell things. God understands understands this and gives us tangible means of worship and Salvation. The Sacraments are both physical and metaphysical. And again, all these things things orient us to the reception of Christ in the Eucharist.

That isn’t to say that plainer churches can’t be holy or sacred. I received most of my Sacraments in tiny, plain rural churches that didn’t hold more than 100 people. The people they were very devout.

But these churches were still oriented towards Christ. There still was a tabernacle. A Crucifix and statue of the Theotokos. The Stations of the Cross. Candles. A far cry from a Protestant church that might not even contain a wooden cross.

[luolands]

Essek's Home in Rosohna

Essek, c2e62: Most of my den live within the Lucid Bastion.

EGtW, Rosohna: Its tall, dusky spires and beautiful buildings rise from the broken shards of the Calamity. Crystalline halls of glass and quartz glow with interior light in the traditional Kryn hues of green and purple. A vast medley of bright and wondrous structures, grandiose towers, and crystalline cathedrals soar into the sky.

Exterior: You're used to the Candles, this large, elaborate, you know, wizard towers. His estate is three towers that are shorter, but they're all connected by walkways and they're different heights. You can see the brick exterior of it looks gray, but what little bit of light there is as you walk past, you can see now there's a slight almost iridescent quality to the exterior of the bricks that are laid at the base of the towers.

Atop of the tallest one, you can see there what looks at first like a weather vane. Instead, you can see it's a contraption that seems to have a series of metallic rings inside that all are smaller and smaller and smaller within that slowly, rotate on its own in a way that you don't understand its purpose or really what it does but it's unique and it's engineered to be strangely pretty.

There are almost ley lines of energy that themselves span like a net across all of Exandria and these ley lines sometimes shift and swell and expand and reduce based on the seasons, based on the time of year, based on celestial gatherings and alignments. This is part of a device that just keeps track of it.

The First Tower, First Floor Entry Chamber: In the chamber you're in right here, you can see plainly most of it's just furniture, it's a hosting chamber it seems, though a lot of it's dusty. It's generally just furniture and décor.

The smell when you come inside is very strangely herbal, like it has a very earthy, herbal smell to the air there with a bit of- only thing to describe it is like a hint of electrical fire, something like that sort of smell.

There are these beautiful almost glass-like stairs that emerge from the wall that don't have a hard-set connecting pivot, they're just free-floating, it seems, outside of the stone wall and they're just translucent steps that lead up the spiral of the tower you're in.

You go towards where you think the kitchen might be and the door is locked.

The First Tower, Second Floor: This one has a window that overlooks that part of the neighborhood. There are a number of shelves of books, there are some small glass cases that contain what looks to be keepsakes or objects that are just out of view.

There are bookshelves aligned in this area, there are the two doorways, they're closed, that lead out of the tower to those walkways you thought you had seen. Neither of the doors open. They are closed and they are locked. There are a couple of small glass cases that are off to the side.

One of them contains a rod, maybe about a foot and a half long. The other one, glancing inside, you can see there's two books that are locked with a actual physical lock holding them closed.

Only one of them has a title, the other one is just a plain leather binding, like a deep, deep leather, but there's no actual top. The first one you look over and it says in Undercommon the equivalent of 'The Connecting Nether Between the Elements.'

The bookshelves, it's all manner of collection, all in Undercommon for the most part, a couple of spattering of Common books. Some of them are history, some of them deal with studies of alchemical compounds, some of them deal with historical recollections of the Age of Arcanum and what elements have been collected from what ruins have been found and uncovered. Writings of prominent figures during that time period. You see one that deals with the various societies and races of Xhorhas and the social dynamics pre- and post-Dynasty involvement. It's a wide variety of books.

The Second Tower, Second Floor: He leads you to one of two doors that opens up into one of those pathways that connects towers and leads you to the tallest tower and from there, you go into a mid-chamber of this next structure. Within here, the smell is almost saccharine-sweet, but has a very chemical smell to it.

There are a lot of elements here that remind you of very sweet but caustic chemicals that are used in the creation of potions, that are used in the creation of compounds that can break down metals and other such things. It's a mixture of some alchemy or elements close to it are done in here.

The Second Tower, Third Floor: He leads you up another set of stairs to a tall chamber beneath where you imagine that strange moving spherical series of rings were on the top. As you head into this final room the entire chamber itself has these deep grooves dug into stone across and edge to edge. It is hundreds and hundreds of lines. It looks like someone has dug every possible line path connecting element here and for certain magicians or sorcerers, practitioners of magic, this is essentially a bunch of pre-set grooves where most basic and advanced runic circles can be drawn within here with whatever materials very quickly.

All the candles immediately light as you all step inside.

He walks over to his shelf and starts thumbing through different compounds and pulling out elements and taking out some additional books under his arm.

[samwisethewitch]

Earth-Friendly Witchcraft

Whatever religious or spiritual tradition they identify with, most witches agree that there is something sacred about the natural world. We draw our power from the earth beneath our feet, the sky over our heads, and the air in our lungs.

And yet, many of us live in societies that are actively contributing to the destruction of the natural world. Most developed nations have a linear economy, which means resources are extracted and then sent on a one-way trip to consumers who will use them and then throw them away. This leads to overflowing landfills, air and water pollution, and quickly disappearing resources. The World Economic Forum predicts that, if our habits don’t change, there will be more plastic than fish in the ocean by 2050. And I dearly hope that by now we’re all familiar with the reality of climate change and its devastating impact on global ecosystems.

I’m not trying to scare you, but I do want to point out the hypocrisy of drawing power from the Earth in our magic while simultaneously contributing to her destruction. If we truly want to consider ourselves spiritual allies of the planet, we need to make an effort to live our lives — and practice our magic — in ways that are less harmful to her.

You don’t have to become an environmentalist or switch to a zero waste lifestyle, but we can all make little changes for a more sustainable life. There’s lots of information out there about how to live a more Earth-friendly lifestyle, so in this post I’ll be focusing on how to apply that same philosophy to your witchcraft.

Steps to a more Earth-Friendly Practice:

Limiting your consumption will automatically lower your negative impact on the planet. Follow my previous guidelines for avoiding consumerism to start shrinking your carbon footprint.

Avoid plastic as much as possible. According to the WEF, 70% of our plastic ends up in a landfill or in the world’s waterways, and according to Julia Watkins, author of Simply Living Well, only 9% of household plastics get recycled. Plastic (unlike glass and metal) cannot be recycled indefinitely — it can only be recycled a handful of times before it becomes too degraded to be repurposed any further. There really is no way to make plastic safer for the planet, so it’s best to just avoid it altogether. Look for tools made of metal, wood, or glass instead of plastics, and try to order things shipped in paper and cardboard when possible.

Create spells that won’t leave leftovers. One of the big contributing factors to our current environmental crisis is that we just produce too much waste. You can avoid this in your magical practice by crafting spells that won’t leave you throwing away a big ball of candle wax, herbs, and paper. Kitchen magic is a no-brainer for this, since kitchen spells are meant to be eaten. If you want to do a candle spell, use small candles that will burn up completely — I find larger candles are more likely to leave leftover wax. Making magical bath salts is another great option for leftover-free spells — just make sure everything you include is safe to go down the drain and won’t contribute to water pollution!

Forage for your own spell materials. One of the best ways to avoid plastic packaging and cut down on emissions from shipping is to use materials from your backyard! Learn about the plants, animals, and minerals native to your area, and take regular nature walks where you can gather what you need. Remember to only take as much as you need and to be careful never to damage the plants you harvest from. Make sure to carefully disinfect any animals bits you pick up — you can do this by burying them in salt for a full moon cycle and/or setting them in the sun/under a UV light for several days. If you find a dead animal and want to strip and clean its bones for use in ritual, this is a much more involved process and will require special research, equipment, and lots of time. And, of course, never eat anything you have foraged unless you happen to have an advanced degree in botany.

Keep a magical garden. Another great way to connect with the planet and shrink your carbon footprint is to grow your own herbs, vegetables, and fruits. You can, of course, grow food for your kitchen if you have space, but even if you live in a tiny apartment you can grow a handful of magical herbs in pots. For a list of common houseplants and their magical associations, check out this post.

Shop for spell materials at a local farmer’s market. Buying local is a great way to avoid the environmental impact of shipping produce, and it allows you to support small farms. Farmer’s markets also typically carry seasonal produce, which can help you align your magical practice with the cycles of nature. Farmer’s markets are a great way to find seasonal fruits and vegetables for kitchen magic, but you can use the produce you find there for other types of spells as well.

Trade paraffin wax candles for beeswax or soy wax. Paraffin, the material used for most cheap candles, is a by-product of crude oil, which is not only highly unsustainable but contains carcinogens (chemicals that may cause cancer). Beeswax is a sustainable alternative, and beeswax candles produce a “clean” burn, meaning it does not negatively affect air quality. Soy wax is a slightly pricier, vegan-friendly sustainable option that also produces a clean burn.

Use undyed, unbleached paper for your written spells. The bleaches and dyes used in most commercially available paper have a toxic effect on the environment. Colored paper cannot be recycled or composted because it will contaminate everything it touches. Use plain, unbleached paper for your written spells, especially if you plan to bury them in the ground or dispose of them outside.

Make sure your essential oils are ethically harvested. Essential oils are tricky — although they are marketed as natural, many of them are produced through unsustainable methods. Because essential oils are concentrated, it may take thousands of pounds of plants to produce a single pound of oil. This can have a devastating impact, especially for endangered plants like white sage or palo santo. Look for ethically-sourced, wild-harvested essential oils — these are oils that are gathered from the wild in ways that don’t hurt the local ecosystem. Mountain Rose Herbs and Eden’s Garden are two brands that are committed to sustainable essential oil production.

Instead of burying a spell in a jar, bury it in a hollowed-out fruit or vegetable. Many traditions call for spells to be buried in the ground. Items like jar spells and witch bottles are traditionally buried on the witch’s property. The problem with this is that plastic and glass bottles do not biodegrade, and will remain in the ground for years. Instead of putting these materials in the ground, bury your spells in a hollowed-out fruit or vegetable. As a bonus, you can choose this item to support your intention. For example, you might use an apple for a love spell or a spicy pepper for protection. Just make sure everything inside the spell is also biodegradable!

Keep a compost pile as an offering to your local land spirits. Compost is an easy way to reduce food waste, and it gives your garden a boost! Even if you don’t have your own garden, you can give your compost to a fiend who does or look into donating it to a community garden. When composting, it’s important to maintain a balance between carbon-rich “brown” ingredients (leaves, undyed paper, cardboard, etc.) and nitrogen-rich “greens” (fruit and veggie scraps, coffee grounds, egg shells, etc.) — you want about four times as much brown as green in your compost. Start your compost with a layer of brown — preferably twigs or straw to allow good airflow. Alternate layers of green and brown materials as you add to the pile. Every time you add to your compost, verbally express your gratitude to the land spirits. Your compost should be moist, but not soggy — you’ll know it’s ready when it’s dark and crumbly and smells like soil.

Make your own tea blends with loose herbs and a reusable tea strainer instead of buying teabags. Witches and tea go together like peanut butter and chocolate, but the individual wrappers on teabags create a lot of waste. On top of that, since many of these wrappers are dyed, they may not even be recyclable. Keep your teas earth-friendly by buying dried herbs in bulk and blending your own teas. Making your own blends is not only better for the planet, but also allows you to choose each ingredient for a specific magical intention.

Find ways to use your trash in your craft. This one is pretty self-explanatory. Instead of throwing things away, find ways to use them in your magic! Use food scraps from cooking, like carrot greens and potato peels, in spells. Turn an old shoe box into a travel altar. Add your coffee grounds to spells to ground them and manifest results in the physical world. You get the idea. Be creative!

Research different models for Earth-friendly living, like the zero waste/low waste lifestyle, sustainability, and the solarpunk movement. This will give you more ideas for a sustainable lifestyle, as well as a sustainable magical practice.

The funny thing about Earth-friendly living is that, the more time you spend taking care of the planet, the more connected you feel to it. I encourage you to try some of the ideas on this list — you’ll be amazed by how quickly you develop a deeper relationship with the Earth and all her creatures.

Resources:

Of Blood and Bones by Kate Freuler

Simply Living Well by Julia Watkins

“By 2050, there will be more plastic than fish in the world’s oceans, study says” from The Washington Post

A Sustainable Mind podcast

Practical(ly) Zero Waste podcast