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lina-lovebug · 11 months ago

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I'd Fight The Devil

Alastor x fem! reader

Background: (Y/N) is the elder Morningstar, and wants to fix her relationship with her dad. But her dad hates her boyfriend.

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3 - Finale

Allusions to sex, actual sex, angel being angel, and cannibalism

_____

Angel spit out his drink, "You're with Alastor?!"

"Yeah, thoughts?"

"And prayers, girl," Angel could never imagine a sweet girl like (Y/N) getting it on with the Radio Demon himself.

But everyone has their kinks, he supposed.

Alastor manifested behind her, and she immediately felt his presence. Pressing herself against him, he leaned into her warmth and kept his arms around her shoulders.

"How was your day, mon amour?"

"It'll be even better," She trailed off, turning around to face him, "when we meet my dad for dinner."

Silence.

And not even radio silence.

"Not to be rash, but I'm sure your father would sooner see my head on a pike than on my body," Alastor adored the fact that she was mending their bond, even more so when Lucifer makes the effort.

But announcing their relationship to him?

He could see it ending in flames.

"I know you two don't get along, but I thought a nice dinner might smooth things over."

"And if he disapproves of us?" He lifted her head upwards with his finger, bemused as to what her answer may be.

"Then he'll have to get used to it," (Y/N) replied, sending a shiver of excitement up his spine.

Only a feeling that the she-devil he was utterly obsessed with could provide.

"Ugh, can you guys go fuck somewhere else?" Angel said, "or at all? I can't imagine going a lifetime without dick."

Alastors eye twitch, "now that's our business, isn't it?"

"Okay, okay," Charlie spoke up, "you guys go get ready."

Charlie couldn't help but notice the change in Alastor. It had only been a few months, but being in her sisters presence alone has made him kind. Sure, the both of them would skin someone alive over an insult, but Alastor would rip out his own eyes if (Y/N) asked.

A perfect match.

(Y/N) dawned a black dress with a pearl necklace that Alastor bought for her. Well, she thinks he bought it but he actually stole it off of a fresh kill.

How sweet.

"Pumpkin! Oh look at you! You're as radiant as ever!" Lucifer fawned over his daughter as they made it to the restaurant, making it a point to ignore the red demon behind her.

"Catching strays?" Lucifer gestured to him.

"Lovely to see you again," Alastor retorted.

"Dad, why don't we go inside? And Alastor will be joining us," now, Lucifer didn't forget what he said. He recognized that the fearsome deer demon had the intention of claiming Princess (Y/N) as his own, but did his daughter return such feelings?

Honestly, Lucifer feared that.

Not it being Alastor persay, but his little girls being hurt.

He knew how awful it felt to go through the divorce with Lilith, and then her disappearance.

He didn't ever want his daughters to feel that way.

"So, Alastor, what do you do again?"

"I have a radio broadcast. Your daughter has actually helped me repair the studio after the attack," He laid his land on hers.

And Lucifer picked up Alastors hand.

And placed it away from hers.

"Uh, dad-"

"Look, if you two are fucking, don't tell me."

"Dad!" Her face burned red, "we aren't-that's not. . .I love Alastor, and he loves me. I want you to accept us both."

"Love? Whoa, whoa, whoa! Pumpkin, I don't think-"

"I'm not a little kid," She interrupted, "I'm a grown woman, and I'm able to make my own decisions. I want to be with Alastor because I love him. You may not think I know what love is, but I know it's what I feel with Alastor."

That's when he saw it.

That look.

Whilst (Y/N) was defending herself, defending their love, Alastor looked at her. Only her. And it was like he was staring at the nebula itself, seeing all its beauty in the Heir of Hell. His smile faltered, closing his mouth, and his eyes softened.

It's the same look that he used to give Lilith.

"If I ever hear that you've made her cry, or even laid a single hand upon her," Lucifer stared him down, "I'll make you disappear."

"A man true to his word. Looks like we have something in common," Alastor agreed, his hand back on hers. She gave him a smile, one that reminded him of Lilith.

The rest of dinner went off without any incidents. The small jab here and there, but no one died, and no one was stabbed. Lucifer learned more about his daughters business and how she lit up talking about it.

"You hardly ate, Alastor. Is something wrong?" (Y/N) asked when her father went to the restroom.

"Oh no, my dear. Just hungry for something else, is all," His eyes raked up her form, earning a cough from the she-devil.

Honestly, she didn't know where he was on his spectrum. She was fine never even being intimate, so long as he was happy, but this spark in his eyes lit a fire within her.

"O-oh. . .are you sure?" Believe it or not, (Y/N) had only had sex twice and both times she'd call it lackluster.

"I don't want you to force yourself if you don't want to," oh how innocent she was. Honestly, Alastor assumed he was aroace before he met the she-devil. Her ferocity - her chaos in fights, her genuine kindness, and her soul - itself brought out that spark.

There are moments where the carnal desire needs to be satisfied.

"Mon cher, I'd never ask if I didn't mean it."

That look, it made her softly gasp.

"Alast-"

"Ew."

Right.

Lucifer.

He showed up from his restroom break and found the pair giving eachother "fuck me" eyes.

"Could I eat my dinner without you groping my child?" Lucifer hissed, despite Alastor only touching her hand.

He blinked, thinking how he's never even groped a woman.

"Maybe."

Sick bastard.

_ _ _ ☆ _ _ _

"Fuck! Alastor!"

(Y/N) had never cum before, so Alastor being her first to ever do so and smiling away at her quivering legs made it so much better.

"Oh fuck. . ." She moaned weakly, his tongue slithering in and out of her to lick up every last drop.

"Al. . ." She was breathless, staring at his strained member. Reaching up to unzip his pants, he tutted as he grabbed her wrist.

"Al?"

"It's about you. Don't worry about me, amour," He purred, kissing the bite marks on her thighs.

"But you-"

Before she could detest further, wishing to satisfy him, the door opened.

"Oh my God, they were right! Alastor, you sly dog," Angel Dust was at the door, and Alastor quickly covered his beloveds' body with the covers before his horns started to grow and his back stretched.

"I'm going to kill you."

"Not before you make love to me, you're not," still in his demonic form, (Y/N) blew a gust of wind to slam the door shut.

Her body displayed on the bed, Alastor agreed.

"And stay in that form. It suits you."

#alastor imagine #alastor x reader #hazbin hotel imagine #hazbin hotel x reader

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ladywhistlewrites · 7 months ago

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Hi can I request a wife x Anthony bridgerton story where reader is finally pregnant and how she would tell Anthony and the family

hi darling, ofc!! (omg thanks for sending an ask)🩷

Anthony Bridgerton x female wife! reader

warnings: mentions of period/blood, pregnancy

***

The morning light filters through the delicate lace curtains, casting a warm glow over the room as you stretch beneath the covers. It’s early, and the house is still wrapped in the serene quiet of dawn. You take a deep breath, feeling the familiar tug of routine urging you to start the day. As you move to rise, a sudden realization freezes you in place. You glance down at the crisp white sheets beneath you and feel a jolt of surprise and anticipation. There is no sign of your monthly visitor.

Your heart begins to race. Could it be? After all these months of hope and disappointment, dare you believe it? Your hands tremble slightly as you press them to your abdomen, a wave of tentative joy washing over you. You have to be sure. Quietly, so as not to wake the household, you slip from the bed and dress quickly, your thoughts a whirlwind of hope and possibility.

Making your way down the hall, your steps are light, almost as if you are floating. Each breath feels like a prayer, a silent plea for your dreams to be true. As you approach Anthony’s studio, you hear the soft scratching of his pen against paper. He’s been up for hours, as is his custom, losing himself in work before the household stirs.

You hesitate for a moment at the door, gathering your courage. Then, with a bright smile breaking across your face, you push it open and step inside. Anthony looks up, his eyes lighting with surprise and pleasure at the sight of you.

“My love,” he greets, rising from his desk. “What brings you here so early?”

You can barely contain your excitement as you close the distance between you, your hands reaching out to grasp his. “Anthony, I have news. The most wonderful news.” Your voice trembles with emotion, and you see his eyes widen, a spark of anticipation igniting within them.

“What is it?” he asks, his tone eager, almost breathless.

“I… I think I’m pregnant,” you whisper, tears of joy welling in your eyes. “I checked the sheets this morning, and there was nothing. I haven’t felt any of the usual signs. Anthony, I believe we are finally going to have a child.”

For a moment, he is silent, the words hanging in the air between you. Then, with a cry of joy, he sweeps you into his arms, lifting you off your feet and spinning you around. Laughter bubbles from your lips as you cling to him, the room a blur of motion and happiness.

He sets you down gently, his hands framing your face as he gazes into your eyes, his own brimming with tears. “My love, you’ve made me the happiest man in the world,” he murmurs, his voice thick with emotion. “We are going to be parents.”

You nod, unable to speak, overwhelmed by the depth of his joy and the love shining in his eyes. He kisses you then, a tender, reverent kiss that speaks of promises and dreams and the future you will build together.

In the hours that follow, you and Anthony make plans to share the joyous news with the rest of the Bridgerton family. The day seems to fly by, a whirlwind of preparations and secret smiles, your heart soaring with the knowledge of the life growing within you.

As evening falls, the dining room is a picture of elegance and warmth. The table is set with the finest china, gleaming silverware, and fresh flowers that fill the air with a sweet fragrance. The soft glow of candlelight bathes the room in a golden hue, casting flickering shadows on the walls.

The family gathers, their faces alight with curiosity and affection. You can barely contain your excitement, your eyes meeting Anthony’s across the table, a silent communication passing between you. Finally, as the conversation lulls, Anthony rises, his hand reaching for yours.

“Everyone,” he begins, his voice steady but filled with emotion, “we have some wonderful news to share. We have just learned that we are expecting a child.”

For a heartbeat, there is silence, and then the room erupts in joyous exclamations. Daphne and Eloise rush to embrace you, their laughter mingling with yours. Benedict and Colin slap Anthony on the back, their congratulations hearty and sincere. The younger Bridgertons dance around the room, their excitement infectious.

Violet, her eyes shining with tears, crosses the room to you. She takes your hands in hers, her smile radiant as she draws you into a warm embrace. “Oh, my dear,” she whispers, her voice trembling with happiness, “this is the most wonderful news. I am so happy for you both.”

You hold her tightly, the love and acceptance in her embrace filling you with a profound sense of belonging. “Thank you, Violet,” you whisper back, your voice choked with emotion. “We are so blessed to have all of you to share this with.”

As the evening unfolds, the room is filled with laughter and celebration. Glasses are raised in toasts, and stories are shared, each one adding to the tapestry of joy that weaves through the night. You sit beside Anthony, your hand in his, your heart full to bursting with love and happiness.

This is the beginning of a new chapter, a future filled with promise and hope. And as you look around at the faces of those you hold dear, you know that this child will be welcomed into a world brimming with love and joy, surrounded by family who will cherish them always.

***

hope you like it!!🩷

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revasserium · 6 months ago

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entwined shadows

zayne, rafayel, xavier; 1,872 words; fluff, semi-canon compliant, spoilers! for entwined shadows cards, v!suggestive, no "y/n", genderless!reader, lapslock cause lazy, so! many! kisses!

summary: kiss me once, kiss me twice, kiss me thrice or a thousand times

a/n: inspired by the poems of robert frost and also obviously by the entwined shadows cards cause... bruh.

perish, twice - zayne

the hideout is cold — but his lips are warm, hungry.

“z-zayne!”

there’s fire in his veins, pulsing beneath your fingertips, the kind that his ice has never been able to put out — not even once.

“please…” he sounds like a broken man; you know better than to believe him, “i told you… i warned you…” he trails his lips along the column of your neck, his fingers digging into the bend of your hips, his other hand pinning your wrists above your head, “that i might not be able to control myself this time…”

he lets out a breath, the heat of it fogging the air between you in the dark chill of the room. you feel your skin burning, even as you shiver. your mind spins with the incongruencies, the push and pull, the icy bite of the air, the stinging heat of zayne’s body against yours.

“i-if we freeze tonight —” your voice is unsteady, heady with desire, but zayne cuts you off.

“i won’t let you.” he cups your cheek and you feel the skin there tingle with warmth. slowly, you watch as the vines of pale blue begin to fade from his skin.

you shake your head even as you pull him down for another deep, long kiss, the kind that sears —

“no… i won’t let you.”

when you break apart again, there’s a wild, unfocused light to his eyes, a shallowness to his breaths. he looks dazed, but as his gaze flickers down to your kiss-swollen lips, a razor like focus shifts inside him and suddenly, he’s caging you in, his teeth skimming the delicate skin above your fluttering pulse.

“tell me… tell me this is okay…” his voice is barely a whisper. but you hear it loud as the howling of the storm outside. you breathe out.

“zayne. i want this — i want… you.”

a groan rumbles through him, base and heavy as an avalanche.

he murmurs something that sound suspiciously like a prayer before he sinks his teeth into the bare skin of your shoulder and rips open the front of your shirt in one smooth motion.

the storm outside continues to rage, but at the very least, you can be certain — the ice pulsing beneath his skin is slowly beginning to thaw away.

taste of desire - rafayel

“but this one… i think i like this one best.” rafayel grins as he leans down to press two quick kisses to your cheeks, pulling back to trail his gaze over your blush-tinted skin. heat prickles at your neck but you refuse to look away.

instead, you attempt a glare, “y-you said that three seconds ago.”

rafayel makes an aggrieved expression, “it’s not my fault your cheeks can turn so many colors so quickly! do you know how tiring it is to try and pick my favorite color when i can see so many? ah — there, this one’s nice too!” he taps his finger against the tip of your nose even as you feel your entire face flush.

you bite your lips and push back against him, toppling the pair of you over onto the sofa in his wide-open studio. the windows are cracked, and the spring breeze flirts with the gauzy white curtains; the setting sun paints the entire room in a soft, dreamlike glow.

“why can’t you just call it blush pink like everyone else?” you crinkle your nose and try to turn your head away, even as rafayel shifts beneath you, running a warm palm down the length of your spine to shift you closer.

he cocks his head, lips pushing into a familiar pout, “how can an artist like me be so vague?” he shakes a few strands of hair from his eyes, batting long lashes up at you, “in order to achieve perfection, you have to be specific with your words, you know.”

you’re about to say something else but he sits up, pressing in close enough for your noses to brush, “for instance — if you want a kiss…” his eyes flicker down to your lips; you feel your breath hitch, your heartbeat scattering within your chest like a handful of tossed marbles.

he inches forward, agonizingly slowly, till his lips are hovering only a hair’s breath away from yours. your fingers tighten in his shirt but he makes no move to kiss you.

“you should tell me where…” he makes to lean in, but turns his head at the last moment to skim his lips along your cheeks, his breath tickling your earlobe for a second, “like… here?” he lowers his head, trailing a light kiss against your jaw, “or… perhaps here…” he drops his lips to the bend of your shoulder.

you tremble in his arms, fingers fisting as you attempt to pull him closer.

“r-rafayel… you’re not playing fair.”

he pulls back, an almost gleeful grin spreading across his lips, the light cascading across the room drawing his lashes into long, mesmerizing shadows across the highs of his cheeks.

“why should i? you humans’ve never played fair before. for my own self-preservation… i’ve gotta have a few tricks up my sleeve.”

you squirm in his lap as you feel his fingers tickling at your sides, but as he pins you to his chest, you let out a surprised yelp, palms pressing flat against his chest to steady yourself.

“so, tell me, strange human…” he leans in, nose nudging yours, “what exactly do you want from me, hm?”

you lick your lips, a dull, pulsing ache echoing up from the base of your belly to the top of your spine. you reach up to trace a thumb against the pad of his lips and watch with a stomach-twisting satisfaction as his breath goes shallow, his eyes go wide, go dark.

“kiss me,” you say, leaning down till you’re sure he can almost taste you on his tongue.

you feel him swallow as you trail your thumb down along his neck to the place where his pulse flutters, light and fast as the flurried beats of a butterfly’s wings.

“i thought… i thought i told you… you have to be more specific.”

you allow yourself a grin, fingers tightening ever so slightly around his neck; his cheeks flush the most gorgeous shade of sunset pink and you take a second to marvel to yourself that you’d never quite seen this color on him before. it might just be your favorite yet.

“rafayel… kiss me… right here.”

here come the stars - xavier

looking back, it had felt like a dream — twenty-one days of living together, of grocery shopping and tv-watching, of sleeping next to each other, of waking up to the warm scent of his skin.

“what if we just stayed here forever?”

you twist to face him in the dark; it’s your last night here, and the previous afternoon, you’d sat beneath the thick slices of lemon-yellow sunlight pouring through the windows with a bowl of cherries and the taste of each other resting on your tongues.

“we’d be implicating ourselves in the mission.”

xavier sighs, shifting a bit closer and reaching out to cup your cheek. you lean into the touch, letting your eyes flutter shut as you nuzzle into his heat.

“i know. but…” his finger traces the line of your nose down to the soft of your lips. you let them fall open a second before you feel him pressing in closer, before his lips graze yours and you feel yourself falling into his embrace.

the sheets twist around your ankles. outside, the the scimitar moon watches with slitted silver eyes.

“but…” you say, your voice thick with the honey of recent kisses, “who says that it can’t be like this when we get back to linkon city?”

xavier makes a soft noise at the back of his throat, pulling away to glance down at you.

“what… are you…”

there’s a breathless anticipation pulsing beneath the current of his voice; you sigh and lean up for another quick kiss.

“and you were calling me a dummy earlier…” but even as you steel yourself against the words weighing down the tip of your tongue, you feel your cheeks go hot and silently thank the heavens that it’s too dark in the room for him to see just how red you’d probably gotten.

“i — i’m asking if you want to — i mean, we’re already neighbors so, it wouldn’t even be a very hard move…” you lick your lips, mouth suddenly very dry. beside you, xavier’s gone white-rabbit still. if it weren’t for the shallow sound of his breaths or the wild beating of his heart beneath your hands, you might’ve wondered if he were even there at all.

“i just thought —” you quickly amend, the silence thickening around you like churned butter, “if you really did l-like it like this… it wouldn’t be hard for us to —”

he silences you with another kiss, more forceful this time. and whereas the previous ones were all soft and languid, this one is open-mouthed, a stomach-clenching hunger pouring itself from his mouth to yours as he presses you down beneath him and pins you to the bed.

his knee presses up between your legs and desire lances through you, bright and sharp as lightening. you gasp, biting down on his lips as he groans, burying his face in the crook of your neck.

“i don’t know — if that’s a good — idea —”

you lick your lips, frowning up at him. you’ve never seen him so winded; you’d barely even seen him out of breath, but right now, even in the dim light, you can see him shaking apart at the edges.

“w-why?” you have to fight to keep the hurt from your voice, but the next second, xavier is pressing his tongue back into your mouth and running it along the backs of your teeth. he kisses you so hard and so thoroughly you nearly pass out from the lack of air.

“because — i — we’d never get any sleep. and —” his hair tickles the skin of your cheeks as you let out a surprised laugh, his lips trailing down the length of your throat, “and i rather like my sleep…”

you let your eyes fall shut again, tangling your fingers in his starlight hair as he hisses against your chest.

“well — at least tomorrow we have the day off… so, i suppose if there’s any night we won’t need much sleep…”

xavier lets out a soft groan, shaking his head even as he peppers your skin with even more kisses, “don’t… don’t say stuff like that. people might get the wrong idea.”

you give his hair a playful tug, reveling in the way his whole body seems to go taut above you as he lifts his head.

“or,” you smile, slowly releasing his hair from your fingers, “they might be getting exactly the right idea.”

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teecupangel · 26 days ago

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Нi!

god, I read your blog literally every day, it's amazing! helps me cope with stress

anyway, i had a little idea i thought you might like. we often give Desmond godlike powers because of the isu crap. our boy is an angel, that's clear, but what about the devilish appearance? horns, seductiveness, gold accents and maybe a tail?

a creature that would make religious people scream in horror, that's what

and let him get attached to Leonardo da Vinci. my boy must be confused. like, he already thought he was going to burn in hell for his wishes, so a literal devil in his studio admiring his work? well, it couldn't get any worse!

it gets worse when Ezio finds out about Desmond and thinks that literally the devil is going to take his friend. Ezio is very against

I’m so happy to hear that. I’m glad this blog is able to help you cope with stress <3

Soooooo… shall we make Desmond’s life much more miserentertaining?

Desmond actually returned to the past while Leonardo was studying the Apple under Borgia’s lock and key.

Leonardo is smart enough to know that he wasn’t the one who summoned an actual demon.

But he has been using the Apple against his will far too long and too much that he has started to question his own sanity.

So when Desmond appeared in all his demonic glory and the guards started to scream and pray, Leonardo’s brain just short circuited and thought “the Apple can summon a demon, yeah, sounds about right.”

Desmond didn’t really have any plans other than stop these guards from trying to kill him or burn him or behead him or… uuuuhhh… chant prayers at him?

Okay.

Maybe going “God can’t save you” was a bad call if he was trying to not be known as the devil or whatever but Desmond is just going to shake that off.

So… he already killed too many people and now he’s worried that Leonardo will come to harm.

Especially since Cesare was a coward who ran away as soon as shit hit the fan, even forgetting the Apple.

So Desmond just took the Apple and Leonardo (who quickly took all of his papers and journals) and called it a day.

…

A non-lethal version of events happened after he reached the Brotherhood’s headquarters and, really, Ezio should teach his recruits to not scream in terror even if someone who looked like a demon (allegedly) walked inside their supposed secret secured base.

And Desmond has his work cut out for him because Ezio?

Oh, Ezio thinks he’s the real devil, summoned by the Apple, to seduce Leonardo to sin (Leonardo and Desmond just glances at each other without saying anything at this)

Desmond’s attempt to tell Ezio that he’s Ezio’s Desmond only served to make Ezio believe he is the devil.

Why else would he know of Desmond?

How shameless of him to try and pretend to be Desmond when he looks like a devil.

Desmond just wants to bash his head when he remembered this Ezio has not seen him in a hologram near Altaïr’s bones yet.

Hell, even if he did, who knows?

Ezio might just think that a devil was trying to copy Desmond’s appearance.

Okay then…

Time to try and make Ezio see that he means no harm and that he is Desmond.

… with Leonardo’s help, of course.

(Leonardo does not have a say on this but he doesn’t mind, Desmond was nice and he didn’t necessarily believe that he’s the devil. If he is, he hopes assisting him would, at the very least, make Desmond think of taking Leonardo’s soul instead. It won’t be bad to suffer in eternal damnation under a devil like Desmond)

#assassin's creed #ask and answer #teecup writes/has a plot #fic idea: assassin's creed #desmond miles #ezio auditore #leonardo da vinci

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windvexer · 21 days ago

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But considering then that maybe one should learn a form of banishing, just in case, but doesn't relate to the golden down practices, what could be a practice of banishing that is more connected to witchcraft ?

We are in reference to this ask about whether or not the LBRP is required learning for all sorcerers & practitioners (it is not).

Someone asked me for my opinions and I'm giving them! Please understand this to be a post full of my personal opinions and methods.

I think a fine way to regard any practical sorcery is to consider it to be a mundane action extended into the spirit world.

Therefore the best way for a witch to deal with banishment is to ask what you if you were in a nice Studio Ghibli anime where magic is tangible. If a rambunctious pig spirit were tearing through your house, knocking over furniture, what would you do?

Banish for your needs based on what you have. Any banishment spell is better than no banishment spell. Here are a few for the intrepid witch:

Ask It To Leave

This is a good starting operation, especially if you have ethical concerns. Especially helpful for troublesome household spirits and energies.

Go to where It is. If that is not possible, create a sympathetic image (drawing, sigil, poppet, etc.; then correctly consecrated*).

Speak to the image and tell it firmly and sternly to leave. Do not ask, do not show your belly. "You have got to stop coming to morning meetings, Greg. You have better things to do and you are not helping. I am sick and tired of hearing you before lunch, Greg. Stop doing it."

Open the Door and Smack It With a Broom

Another good starting operation, but you must have access to the location; best reserved for spirits or intruders.

Open all the doors and windows you can. Speak a prayer over the broom, vacuum, or mop; invite it to cast off its lampshade and glow with the vigor of four hundred generations of exasperated grandmothers.

Sweep out the house, all the while staying intent on the idea that the intruder is going to be chased out.

Close doors and windows after, as desired.

(Modifications on the above: blessed water in a spray bottle, rolled up newspaper swatting the air, and so forth; the studious witch will observe that if a place is consecrated to be other than what it is, things on other strands of fate can be swept away.)

Cast Dispel Magic (wizard 3 abjuration)

A fine early step, but it draws a line in the sand. It's more like a temporary ward, but it'll do in a pinch. It's also energy intensive, but requires no materials.

Using energy work, root yourself down into the earth. Call up a great deal of power from the earth into your body.

Coalesce a ball of power in your abdomen (or wherever suits you best; you must already know how to work energy in this matter to use this method).

In your preferred method, program the energy to be immensely banishing; envisioning ultraviolet flame can work well.

Expand the ball of energy outwards from your center so that it grows and eclipses the space around you, sending the unwanted thing out and away.

If possible, then work the far boundary of the energy sphere to become like a wall that can't be crossed over again.

Call the Magistrate

Not so harsh, but certainly drawing a line in the sand. This can be performed not only on spirits or intruders, but also on situations (to banish unfair treatment, etc), on people, and so forth.

Take one or three dried Bay Laurel leaves, or the equivalent crumbled. Say, think, or sign, "Bay Laurel, I call you here today to assist with removing an unwanted force."

Read over them the Orphic Hymn to the Sun, all the while envisioning that the leaves begin to glow with an immensely bright light, as if you're staring at the sun.

At the completion of the hymn, politely address the leaves and explain to them exactly what you would like chased away. Ensure you clarify if this thing may come back later, or never at all, and how far away from you it should go.

When you've said you part, seal the spell (classically, "as my will, so mote it be").

Use charcoal disks or your preferred method to burn the leaves. This should be done as close as possible to the thing intended to be banished. If burning is not an option, put them in some tap water and boil it on the stove until the scent diffuses.

(To further energize: read the hymn between three and nine times, each time following up with fervent prayers)

Call the Mob

Harsh. For use when you do not want to be polite. Can be directed at anything, but be sure there is no concern of behavior escalating; this is an aggravating spell.

Take one or three dried red peppers, or a teaspoon of red pepper flakes. Say, think, or sign, "Red Peppers, I call you here today to assist with removing an unwanted force."

Read over them the Orphic Hymn to Mars, all the while envisioning that the peppers ignite into a black and scarlet flame that's like hellfire.

At the completion of the hymn, rambunctiously address the peppers and explain to them exactly what you'd like chased away. Encourage the peppers to chase after the thing like the baying hounds of hell, to chase it to the ends of the earth, and past the earth, and so far away that the thing cannot be returned.

When you've said you part, seal the spell (classically, "as my will, so mote it be").

You should not burn the peppers at all unless you can do so outside, because breathing in pepper smoke is Bad. But fire greatly improves this operation. If possible, arrange the peppers around a candle and burn the candle to activate the spell. Otherwise, use the simmer pot method.

---

*Consecrated: In this context, to assign a new magical identity, purpose, and fate. This may be done organically during its creation, or all at once with a ritual. A poppet shouldn't be used in sympathetic magic until it has been magically given the true identity of the thing you want it to represent.

#answered #witchblr #banishing #spells #banishing spells

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starsomens · 10 months ago

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Hear me out,okay? Thigh riding Noah while…are you ready?…while Noah is making music. Let me paint the picture:

Noah is in his home studio working very hard on a new album. It’s probably about close to midnight. The house is quite, like very quite except for a his groans when something doesn’t sound good. You are off somewhere in the house doing something, reading a book in bed, watching TV in the living room, eating a snack, you chose. He sits back in his chair and lets a frustrated sigh.

After a few minutes of him just staring at his computer he calls out for you. “Princess?” You stop whatever you are doing and walk to his home studio. “Yes, my love?” You ask softly. He loving stares at you for a second before he talks again. “I need some inspiration…come ride my thigh…please.” Your heart skips a beat, your whole body starts to feel hot. With a soft smile on your face you walk over to right beside him as he pushes his chair away from the desk to make for you and pats his thigh with that damn smile of his.

“Pants and underwear off.” (Oh he means business!) You take off your clothes from the lower half of you and straddle his thigh. He plants a few kisses on your forehead as you slowly start to grind away. Noah watches you as soft moans and whispers fall from your mouth. He leans to your ear and soft whispers.

“Such pretty sounds, god I love the way you sound.”

“Keep going…that’s it that’s a good girl.”

As your grind harder and faster on his thigh, more of your pretty sounds become louder. Noah reached over and hits the record button on his computer. He sit back in his chair with his full attention to you. Watching you come undone from just his thigh alone. The room fills with moans, whimpers, ragged breathing, wet sounds, and of course, his praises.

“So wet and just for me, princess, thats it.”

“God you look like a masterpiece.”

“Gonna make a big mess,huh?, that’s okay you can lick it clean when you’re done.”

“I should put your moans and whimpers in a song or should I keep them for myself?”

You can’t answer him. No words are going through your head. Nothing, just the feeling of his thigh in between your legs. Your whole body begins to shake as you feel close. He sits there watching you with a smirk. You feel like you are gonna explode. With a final few grinds, you come. Letting out loud gasps and moans along with his name falling out of your mouth like a prayer. He wraps his arms around you and pulls you close rubbing your back, kissing your forehead and cheeks as you calm down from your high.

“That’s a girl.” He says in your ear

IM SORRY THIS IS SOO LONG!! I though it was gonna be short be I was very wrong.

IM SOWWWYYYY THIS TOOK SO LONG BUT ANYWAY

YES OMG GIRL

YOU ALWAYS COME UP IN MY INBOX WITHT THESE STEAMY ASS IDEAS I CAN'T ADD MORE TO THESE BUT I LOVE THIS

#bad omens #noah sebastian #star’s anons✨#bad omens cult #noahsebastian #badomens #noah sebastian x reader

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srbachchan · 8 months ago

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DAY 5926

Jalsa, Mumbai May 9/10, 2024 Thu/Fri 12:22 AM

Birthday Greetings for May 10th , 2024

Saddened to hear the news of the passing away of Shri Ratan Lal Bhutoria , Father of our dear Ef Rohit Kumar Bhutoria .. Rohit's Father met with a road accident this morning and unfortunately could not survive .. as informed by Ef Sanjay Patodiya .. 😔🙏🏻 .. deeply shocked and grieved .. our very sincerest condolences to you , Rohit .. we hold your hand .. be strong .. the whole Ef Family with you .. in prayer and support .. 🙏🏻

Hard to put anything after this 💔 .. but the occasion for it's greatness I think it deserves a mention .. 🙏🏻

A bit of historic ”gyaan” today .. 🙏🏻

10 May In Indian History :

.. 10th May 1857 .. the great Indian rebellion .. the 1st war of independence against the British at Meerut .. the rebellion began in the form of a mutiny of sepoys of the East India Company's army in the garrison town of Meerut ..

Meerut is situated between the holy rivers Ganga and Yamuna ..

Thanks to its geographical importance, the fertile Ganga-Yamuna doab had been an important centre of human activities since the very early times of Vedic Civilisation.

From the medieval period onwards, the proximity of this city to Indraprastha (present day Delhi) helped it play an important role in the affairs of India.

With the capture of power by the British, Meerut became a major military centre. The aggrieved Indian soldiers of the British Army began their fight against the imperial powers in this soil on 10th May, 1857. They captured the control of the city in one day and marched to Red Fort in Delhi, which was considered to be the symbol of control over the whole of India. On their way, they were joined by the common people who shouted patriotic war cries. By the next morning, Red Fort had fallen into the hand of the freedom fighters.

Few pictures of India from 1857 ..

Lucknow .. 1857 ..

Calcutta .. 1853 ..

Taj Mahal .. Agra .. 1857 ..

Jantar Mantar near Delhi .. 1858 ..

James Outram's Camp at Alumbagh, Lucknow .. It was occupied by Outram and his 4000 Soldiers After the 1857 Mutiny ..

Humayun's Tomb in Delhi .. 1858 ..

See how the change has taken place .. this is the same location where we shot the song from UUNCHAI, the film of Sooraj Barjatya, pictures of which had been put up here at the Blog

A Sikh cavalry .. Illustrated Times .. 1857 ..

Jai Hind .. 🇮🇳🫡🕉️🙏🏻

Love .. ❤️🙏🏻

It has been a bit of a history lesson .. and after which it would be too severe to write anymore .. but simply to say , that the time at the Studio Saptaswar was visited after many an hour and days .. and the sonorous sounds for an upcoming film of Abhishek .. and of my own Section 84 , was I felt , in keeping with the moment and the story and the emotion ..

Amitabh Bachchan

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romana-after-dark · 10 months ago

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Room's on Fire: Black Wedding

Dark!Santiago Garcia x Fem!Reader Dark!Francisco Morales x Fem!Reader Dark!William Miller x Fem!Reader Dark!Benjamin Miller x Fem!Reader

Also: FishBen, and an assortment of other M/M relationships (no Millercest). Everyone is Bisexual

Series Masterlist: Main Masterlist : MainTaglist

Spotify playlist

Summery: Everyone is together, everything is complete.

Warnings and Content:

DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT

DUB CON MOSTLY but there WILL BE NON CON. Major character deaths, forced breeding, physical abuse, brainwashing, manipulation, violence, gore, alcoholism/addiction, BIG OLE BLASPHEMY WARNING like this cult appropriates a lot of religious themes and they call reader their Madonna, Santi is called the Pope, like all that stuff. However, this is a cult so I mean. It happens. None of it are my thoughts on religion or meant to make fun of religion or demonize religious people. Disgusting views on virginity. Attempted rape outside the boys. T*m warning. Age gap. Creepy terrible men. Non-reader rape, dub con, violence. Covert incest, massive mommy issues, sexual abuse all around, past grooming by parental figure. no CSA but the victim isn't much older. some Bates Motel type shit. I cannot properly warn you for everything, without just telling the story but consider this a major warning that there are dark dark themes. No one involved here is morally clean, and who you perceive as the good guy cannot be relied on. Don't come to my story and say im romanticizing these things until at least the story ends.

WARNINGS HAVE BEEN UPDATED!!!

Extra warnings for chapter: FEET (sorry Fen!), complete worship, mind control, the incubus. Tummy bluge since apparently this is contensious now???

3.2k words

A/N: Some pov shifts.

Support writers! Reblog and leave comments!

"Priest are you there? Can you hear my voice? Do you hear my prayers? Are you out there? Forgive me priest For I have sinned (I know not what I do)" ~Black Wedding, In this Moment.

Sweating, tossing, turning.

The demon, the manifestation of your inadequacy tormented you so often you’d come to be complacent in it, the ravaging of your body nearly a nightly part of your bedtime routine. You just wanted to feel safe in your own bed again. You wanted your husbands to stay the night, to protect you from the terrors, but how could you confess what was happening?

When you wake up in a cold sweat, fear shivers down your spine as you dry heave and gasp for air, red daylight seeping in your curtains and bathing your clothed body in the image of blood, you are determined to change something. You can’t go on like this. You had Francisco now, you just needed to win back Pope. You were ovulating, now was your chance, all you needed was to have all their hearts.

Ben was a lot of fun. You and him did the most activities.

Before he became angry with you, Pope and you mostly spent time outside of sex in your studio. He liked to watch you paint, sipping wine with his eyes over the glass observing the strokes. It was quiet, peaceful, and calming.

Francisco, since your trip to the field was taking you more and more. He liked to take you out to the meadow, fucking on the blankets and putting flowers in each others hair. He let you put a flower crown on him, looking so pretty you had to reward him.

Will treated you like a princess. Will promised that first day that he’d help work out those pains in your back, and he was. He liked to massage you with his healing oils, making your body feel good and comfortable before he filled you up, stating that your comfort and health was important for conceiving.

But Ben, Ben was fun. Ben’s time was filled with laughter, adventure, and lots of sex. Today he took you out on a horse ride, much like Frankie, but there wasn’t a picnic. That wasn’t Ben’s style. What was Ben’s style was making the horse go ‘really fuck’n fast’.

You felt like a princess, your handsome prince whisking you away to some far off land. Benny made you giddy, he made you feel wanted. When Pope and Francisco both wanted nothing to do with you, it was Ben and Will who made you feel seen, feel beautiful, feel desired for.

You watched Ben climb a tree, begging him to be careful but he swore up and down he was going to find you the best peach there was. Ben loved food.

“Please just watch your step!!” You shout after him, but then turn your attention to the open field. From the top of the hill, you could see the fields of gold you used to labour at. Watching the others work, all but tiny dots on the horizon, sometimes you felt bad, like you weren’t contributing to Delta… Will had reminded you that you were called to a higher purpose, for something more. The DNA of gods was constantly inside you, and you wondered if it was changing you in more ways than just the hopeful pregnancy. Maybe you were more than a saint. Maybe their seed was creating a goddess, a new mother- nonononononono that was heresy! You shove the idea out of your head like an intrusive thought, determined to keep your thoughts clear.

THIS was why the incubus was tormenting you! Your thoughts were impure, vile, evil, and so were you. Tears began to burn behind your eyes.

“Here!” Ben drops upside down, hanging by his knees on the tree branch, making you gasp. He’s holding a peach, which you happily take.

“Thank you.” You smile. He always knew how to make you smile. Ben himself was shining as bright as the sun today, a reflection of his good mood. He said he’d make sure there’d be perfect weather for your outing, and he delivered, not a cloud in the deep blue sky. Will made you put on a straw sunhat to protect your skin from its reys. He treated you so well.

Ben makes a kissy face, and you oblige, rewarding him for finding you your snack. His mouth tasted sweet, only then do you realize he took a bite already and you can’t help but laugh adoringly. You take a bite of the peach as Ben still hung from the tree, swinging as he gripped the branch, and come to him again, sliding the bite into his mouth for him to eat. You can feel him smile, chewing the peach and you pepper his face with kisses.

It wasn’t long before he was pulling you up onto the tree, helping you climb up and up. Everything was so beautiful where you sat. Ben kisses you deeper here.

“Fish ain’t the only one that can be romantic as shit.” He mutters against your mouth and you get the feeling he was jealous. Francisco must have told him what you did the last couple days with him, making love in the meadow and yes, it was romantic, but you didn’t expect Ben to be Francisco. All of them loved you in their own ways, with their own expressions.

“He certainly isn’t, my handsome husband.” You kiss back, sighing as he touches your thigh. There was no way to fuck up here, but Ben still brought you to orgasm with his fingers. He had told you not to wear panties.

He picks another peach, pulling his hard cock out as you kick your legs, smiling, your dress rustling in a breeze. You’d noticed the breeze picked up as Ben got turned on. You watch in aw as he fingers the peach open, eyes intently on you. He’s obscene, groaning as if he’s pleasuring himself until he creates a hole, and then…

“Eyes on my cock, peach.”

And god, are your eyes on his cock. Benny has the prettiest dick in your humble opinion. It was long and thick like they all were. Ben was cut, his manhood always throbbing and the prettiest golden color and a vein on the underside. You loved looking at it. Ben fucked himself with the peach, up and down on the shaft with the most levacious squelches coming out only to the harmonized by Ben’s moans and whimpers. His eyes closed, lost in pleasure and he jerked off.

“F-fuck…” Ben mumble, chest heaving as he rests against the trunk. “Fuck man, feels so fucking good.” His hip bucked, makin the branch you were on shake and you had to grab one above for stability but fuck, you couldn’t stop watching him. He was incredible, sculped body creating a divine figure in your midst and you were so blessed to be filled by him. His blue eyes flashed open only to roll back into his head, spurting cum all over his hand and the peach. You nearly came again from the sight and sound alone. You loved how he looked in orgasmic bliss, it didn’t matter who caused it, you, Francisco or Pope, you just wanted to see him when it happened.

You ate the cum stained peach directly from his hand.

You got the idea from Iris, really. Sitting on the counter of the kitchen, you were busy with some cross stitching you wanted to give to Francisco. It was a simple scene, nothing complex as your dormitory focused of useful skills like fieldwork, cooking, animal care. Still, you knew how to sew and although you’d asked, sometimes even begged Iris to let you help with housework, she didn’t trust you with much outside of cooking, which you were good at. You wished she didn’t treat you like a child. Still, you happily worked on the nature scenary for you husband, god of nature. How lucky you were. You noticed how much he liked smoking marijuana.

Reyansh was inside for a refreshment while working outside. He was creating a flower bed for you at Francisco’s request, and his neck was hurting so Iris rubbed his neck. Reynash sighed contently, his soft face smiling at the touch of who very clearly, you see now, was his lover.

Iris was gentle for no one. She brushed off every attempt Jonah made to talk about anything none work related, and it hadn’t endeared her to you much. You didn’t think that bothered her, it didn’t seem she was too fond of you either. It wasn’t a rivalry and you didn’t have a problem with her. In fact, you liked her. She was beautiful, she made good food and she had been there when it was necessary, like having a panic attack. Even in the small things, she fed you well and had your safety in mind. Today, for example, she told you to put on sunscreen before you went outside to sunbathe while Rey built the flowerbed and doubled with babysitting you. That’s what you called it. Still, she didn’t talk to you, and didn’t seem like she wanted to be your friend.

You liked Reyansh a lot, he was kind, gentle, and thoughtful. Iris took care of Reyansh, and that made you happy. You liked seeing Reyansh smile, he had a nice smile. Iris never smiled unless it was at Reyansh and even then it seemed subdued. Jonah smirked at best, and that was usually mixed with an eye roll.

Pope had bad knees. He called it his stigmata, the physical manifestation of the sufering he bared for the people of Delta. He took the brunt of your sins and wasn’t that so good of him? You wondered if you could alleviate some of that pain, seeing as much of it was probably caused by the sins of your father.

“Rey?” You ask from your chair, watching him plant seeds for marigolds. You loved marigolds; they reminded you of Ben, all sunshine and gold.

He turns around over his should, a bright smile on his face. He seemed happier with plant or animals. “What’s up?”

“Do you know where Will keeps his healing oils?”

Reyansh laughs and its brighter than the midday sun. He turns around, sitting his ass on the dirt and props himself up on his hands. “What are you planning?”

“SHHHHHHH” Reyansh shushes you, but he’s giggling himself.

You and him were breaking into Will’s room while he was out. Well, not so much breaking as Rey got the master key but still, naughty. You loved Will’s room, you wanted to stay here all the time. It was simple, but not uncomfortable. You both had to be careful, not digging too much into his things as to not get in trouble… but then you found them.

You took lavender, rose, peppermint and oregano. You knew a little about healing oils, but Will’s were special having been blessed by his hands. This had to help Pope’s aches… now, you must get an audience with Pope, and he was not pleased with you.

“I’m busy.” Pope called from his office, ignoring your plea’s to spend time with you. You missed him so, so much. You missed his intensity, the warmth in the gaze, the fire and passion in his eyes. You feel his love for you, his husbands, his community. Who else was to bare the pain he did for his people? He was good, so good.

“Pope, please?” Your voice cracks, leaning against the wood of his door. “Please just ten minutes?”

“I’ll be with you tonight with Francisco.” To breed you, but you didn’t just want to be fucked by him, you wanted to be loved.

“I want to spend time with you, please? I have a surprise. I just… I miss you.”

Silence… then the door unlocking. He stood in front of you, brown eyes ablaze with irritation but also curiosity.

Once securing his attention, you were able to get Pope to follow you to the room you had set up. In it, a chair and a bucket of steaming, sudsy water.

“Sit! Sit!” You beckon him to the chair, and although hesitant he sits down. You take your place where you belong, at the feet of your God.

Knelt before him and gazing up into his eyes, you untie his shoes and slide off his socks, pleasantly surprised by the lack of smell. He’d been inside all day. After rolling up his pants, you take his feet, one by one and lower them into the steaming water and watch in delight ashe closes his eyes, moaning and hanging his head back. He looked relaxed, actually, something you only see in post orgasmic bliss.

You don’t take your eyes off him, massaging into the arch of his foot and enjoying the look of pleasure on his face. You’d doused the water preemptively with lavender and rose oils and you were happy to see it working in calming him.

“Mmmmm” Pope moans, a hardening bulge between his spread legs and you smile at the effect you have on him, the evidence of the love he still held for you. You hoped this act of washing his feet and massaging the joints would prove your subservience to him, your devotion.

Leaning in, you kiss the ball of his foot first as he opens his eyes, firey and alight with lust and love for you, his Madonna, his wife, his goddess. Pope’s mouth pops open, slightly agape as his chest begins to heave, eroticism clouding his face. Pope angls his foot, pressing his toes to your lips and you don’t hesitate to open, completely and fully in his control. You would debase yourself however he asked, just for him. He was your first kiss, your first love, your first everything. You’d adored him your whole life, worshiping him in prayer halls for as long as you could remember. He’d been the light of your life, your God, and although you were 11 when Divine Mother announced Pope was not the savior, it didn’t matter to you. He was your savior, he was your everything, and oh, how blessed you were to be here.

You make your jaw slack, allowing him access of as much of your mouth as possible, laving your tongue out against the calloused skin. Reaching to the side, you grab the peppermint-oregano mix of healing oils and poured some on his leg. As you gagged on him, sucking on his toes, you rubbed down his legs. Pope groans in pleasure, taking out his erection to stroke himself to the wet sounds of your mouth. Swirling your tongue around him, so desperate try to please him, to regain his favor so you can be impregnated by his seed, the seeds of his brothers. You wanted so desperately to be his Madonna again, his holy mother, his little flower, it didn’t matter what it took.

He could cut open your chest and carve your heart out if it meant he held the dying pulse in his hands.

“Get over here” He grunts, pulling his feet out of you mouth with a pop. You chase after him, worried you’d done something wrong, but Pope grabs your dress, yanking you forward harshly and into a crash of a kiss. The action knocks over the warm bucket of water, but he didn’t care. Pushing you down and into the spilt water, Pope turns you over and climbs on top of you, rucking your wet skirt over your ass. He didn’t bother taking off your underwear simply pulling it aside in order to thrust directly into you.

You were wet, you were always so, so wet with him. Being in his presence had always left you soaked and needy when he didn’t give you what you wanted. Sometimes you found yourself going to Will for his mouth to give you what Pope wouldn’t.

“My beautiful, sweet Madonna” He mutters, his bearded cheek scratching against yours. “Always so ready for me, such a good fucking girl.” His thrusts are harsh, your face sliding against the floor with the spilt water, your dripping hair splattered all about the tile. The smell was overwhelming and you realize Will’s oils were spilled, mixing into the water and stirred with the movement of your connected bodies.

Everything was so, so much from the smells of the oils to the stretch of his cock, the pounding, pounding, pounding in your womb.

It was the same pounding you felt that night when, for the first time in a long time, you were fucked and pleasured and devoured and worshipped by all four of your husbands.

You were raw, aching, sweating and throbbing; 3 men’s cum had flooded your womb and Will’s was soon to follow. It was good, so, so good. Your body, despite the exhaustion was floating on your soft bed. The group sex had happened in your room, which was a rarity but something that in this moment made you feel like home. This was special, this was different. Will’s grunts were loud, powerful, his strong and naked body forbaring before you where he knelt. Muscles flexing and shifting and moving, his sweaty form and dripping hair complimenting his presence, the size reflected in the bulge of your stomach in every inward thrust. He had to be this stunning if he were to distract you from the scene beside you.

Ben, Francisco and Santiago and spent and drained, were entangled next to you in a sweat and lust-fill affair of their own. Francisco was the center focus, his body worshiped and adored by Pope and Ben. It seemed like a tug of war, like Francisco was the rope in a tug of war. It was clear that Francisco was precious to both of them, but there was another air about it all. The fight for Francisco’s sweet kisses was just the battle ground. Francisco himself had gotten hard all over again, Ben’s hands jerking him of from where he lay, their two body’s and coloring a contrast of dark and light, hard and soft, and electric energy so, so close to Pope’s explosives.

Pope would not be out done by the younger man. This was his community, he was the leader, he was son of the Divine Mother and he would not relinquish his most favored lover to a boy 8 years his junior. Ben had ambition, he had wants and visions of a future that Santiago would not acquiesce to and although Benjamin’s loyalty was strong, so was his jealousy.

Two could play at jealousy, and Francisco was his. Playing with Frankie’s balls, heavy but starting to tighten as his perfect body writhed to the sounds of the Madonna’s pleasure, Santiago gripped Ben’s locks and yanked him down. He took control of Frankie’s mouth, lips still swollen from their previous encounter evidence of who his lips belonged too. He sucked on him until the healing lip cracked open again. If Francisco bled, his blood was Pope’s.

He hears you cry out in the way you only do when you’re coming, and Ben latches onto Francisco’s nipple, determined to make him cum again. Pope loved his brothers, loved them all, they were the center of his world, his everything, his rocks. He’d had all of them in every way imaginable, fucked into every hole at every angle but god, nothing compared to Frankie. Ben must’ve felt that too, the way he took care of him. Together, as a team, they gave Francisco his second orgasm.

Something was different today. Something changed.

They all slept in her bed that night.

WHAT DO WE THINK For The Wrong Way readers, did you catch the reference? it was small.

also last chapter i asked whose the worst and someone said jonah i just wanna talk LMFAOOOO but i laughed bc its OVERWHELMINGLY santi. like 80%

Poll of the day

who knocks up madonna? not who you WANT that'll be a new poll, but who you think does it. listing all potential options.

WHAT ARE YOUR THOUGHTS and whyyyyy

If you are into c.ai, check out the Jonah ai on the masterlist

Also, hope you check out the playlist! if you like old music like me especially. lots of 60's-80's

apoligies to everyone whose been tagging me in tag games. i appiciate the tags a lot, im just like....... ahhhhhhh you know? life. i love yall for including me though! If you have discourd and wantto join a server for my works, dm me! as long as you are an active particpant in the fics you're welcome!

IF YOU LIKE CULT FICS READ THIS ONE BY @noxturnalpascal with cult leader joel!!!!! I havnt had the chance to read a full chapter by i read most of the first chapter and its soooo good.

Please consider joining me in in donating to humanitarian aid in Rafah through Doctors Without Borders

LOVE YOU ALL!

How to keep up with the story!

Comment on this masterlist that you want to be tagged and I'll tag you in updates (If you ask to be tagged, I ask you at least like the fic. Likes dont do anything to spread the work, but it at least lets me know you're still reading.)

Follow @romana-updates and/turn on notifications

Follow the tag Rooms on fire

@winniethewife @femmeanonymelives @yorksgirl @pockcock @neverwheremoonchild @casa-boiardi @meveispunk @survivingandenduring @criticalarchitecture @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog @obscurexsorrows @hellfire-state-of-mind @christinamadsen @pimosworld @princessanglophile @rubyfruitjungle @simple-lovebot @missdictatorme @campingwiththecharmings @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @javier-penas-wifexx420 @stefani-topaz @alwaysmicado @mjnomaryjane @incorrectclassicbookquotes @axshadows @ghostslillady @movievillainess721 @justagalwhowrites @charethcutestory02 @pixielouise-blog @gogh-with-the-flow @justafandomgvrl @katw474 @loveable-liar @arrozconpepitoria @minigirl87 @runa-falls @pedge-page @angel-of-the-moons @beefrobeefcal @pixielouise-blog @miraclesabound @oliveksmoked @mjnomaryjane @bubble-pop-eclectic @corazondebeskar-reads @pedroshotwifey @umnitsa @koshkaj-blog @hiroikegawa@mangoslushcrush @withasideofmeg @sub-aro @wand-erer5

If I forgot someone or you'd like to be added/removed LMK!

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withacapitalp · 1 year ago

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How to Rehabilitate a Jock Pt 16

Part One Part Fifteen Link to Ao3. Part 17

So late but I needed to post this as soon as I was happy with it haha! Thank you to @stevethehairington for betaing and @thefreakandthehair for listening to my endless rambles

Step Sixteen: Fix What You Brea

Decorating a christmas tree was an interesting experience.

It wasn’t like Eddie had never seen a tree before, it just wasn’t something he had ever personally done. Before living with Wayne, his parents had never stayed in one place long enough to have a tree, and after he moved in with Wayne, they both agreed that the money would be better spent on having a present for Eddie instead of a tree to just stare at. Eddie had always thought it would be kind of stupid anyway. What was the point?

But decorating Steve’s tree was actually pretty enjoyable.

Sure, Frank and Jeff were fighting over eating the popcorn string instead of hanging it up, and yeah, Jonathan kept making little side comments to Nancy about it that were almost a shade too sarcastic for comfort, but the air was filled with laughter, and Steve was directing him on where to put the important ornaments, so it wasn’t all bad.

“What about this one?” Eddie asked, holding up a delicate glass design. It was shaped like a pair of ballet slippers, hanging on a pink ribbon that gleamed in the lights on the tree.

This was the best part in Eddie’s opinion. Every single one of the ‘special’ ornaments had some story attached. A family anecdote or a tradition long held. Steve wasn’t on Eddie’s level of storytelling, but there was something incredibly cozy about holding out an ornament and listening to Steve tell the tale as they hung it up together.

“That ones my mom’s,” Steve said, his voice inordinately warm as he took the ornament and leaned into Eddie’s space to place it on the right side of the tree almost all the way at the top. “She was a ballet dancer back in the day. The ribbon is from her first set of pointe shoes.”

“That’s cool,” Eddie said, looking closer. Sure enough the satin was too thick to be a traditional ribbon, and there were rips in it that had been sewn back together with pale pink thread.

“Yeah. You have to replace pointe shoes every twenty hours of dancing or so, but my mom’s family never had much money, so she used hers until they were too broken to dance,” Steve explained, tracing his index finger down the side of the ribbon, his eyes far away somewhere Eddie couldn’t quite reach.

Huh.

It was strange to think of anyone in Steve’s family as anything but rich. The Harringtons were well known snobs, and although Eddie didn’t personally know Steve’s mom, he had definitely heard about her. Head of the PTA, head of the ladies auxiliary, head of the church prayer group. She was a socialite through and through.

Initially Eddie had heard the word ‘ballet’ and imagined an uptight little prima in a sterile looking studio with starched white tutus and perfect form. Steve’s story had shifted that, and now Eddie’s mind was conjuring up images of a tiny girl practicing and practicing her steps with shoes that were tearing at the seams. A small child trying and trying to be as good as everyone else when the tools she was working with were nowhere near what everyone else got to have.

The same way Eddie himself had practiced on his first guitar before he had started dealing and was able to afford his Warlock.

“Why’d she stop dancing?” Eddie asked softly, suddenly desperate to know the answer. He needed to make the two images connect, needed to find the through line that could turn a poor kid who just wanted to dance into a formidable small town queen.

“She married my dad,” Steve replied, giving the exact answer Eddie hadn’t wanted to hear. “They moved here, had my brother, and Mom didn’t need to work anymore. The back room used to be her studio, but my parents decided to make it a second office for my dad.”

Eddie bit his tongue, looking at the tree but avoiding the shimmering ballet slippers sitting on the branch above his head.

Steve’s mom had been like him, then she married a rich guy, and gave up all the things that mattered for money. She had been just like him, once upon a time.

Would that happen to Eddie?

Was he turning into someone different now because of his crush on Steve?

It wasn’t a completely lunatic idea. He was here decorating a tree, which is something he normally saw as completely arbitrary and useless. He was letting a jock into hellfire, and not just any jock but the King.

Would being near Steve chip away at all of Eddie’s long held beliefs? Would he move backwards and backwards because of this idiotic infatuation, until his guitar was just an ornament on a tree?

“Eddie?”

And then with just one look, Steve erased the entire idea. One flash of those big brown eyes and that little side quirk of his head, and Eddie is a goner. There was no way Steve would ever turn his partner into some cookie cutter perfect picket fence person, no planet on Earth where Steve wouldn’t love someone enough to love their weird bits too. This was Steve.

And besides, it wasn’t even like Eddie was the kind of person that had a shot with Steve in the first place. For a lot of reasons.

“Sorry, got lost in thought, Sweetheart,” Eddie said, crooking his mouth into a half smile and ignoring the panging ache of guilt crushing his chest. Steve’s shoulders relaxed and he leaned closer, letting his arm rest against Eddie’s.

“Well, don’t go somewhere I can’t follow,” He murmured, the smell of his cologne and the feeling of his body sending Eddie into a tailspin.

Just like before when their hands were joined and Steve’s warm breath was blowing across his frozen fingers, Eddie’s mind stuttered to a halt. The endless loops and running thoughts were stuck in place, held motionless by the enigma that was Steve Harrington. It was overwhelming, too much and not enough all at the same time, and Eddie needed to get away from it before he did something he couldn’t take back.

“C’mon, we’ve still got work to do, lazy bones!” Eddie chirped, slipping away from Steve and practically jumping over to the box of carefully packaged decorations. He was so focused on escaping, that he wasn’t paying attention to his surroundings until it was a moment too late.

At the same time Eddie picked up the next ornament, Jeff and Frank’s battle over the popcorn string reached its apex. Jeff let go of his side of the string, and Frank flew backwards. He barreled into Jonathan, who crashed into Nancy, who stumbled and bumped into Eddie just enough to make him lose his grip.

The air was filled with the terribly delicate sound of breaking porcelain, and everything seemed to freeze in place. All six of them stared at the ground, where a tiny angel rested in three pieces where it had once been whole.

“Shit, I’m sorry-”

“We were just fucking around, but we shouldn’t have-”

“Steve, I’m so-”

Floods of apologies from the rest, but Eddie stayed silent. He was watching Steve like a hawk as he slowly bent down on one knee and began to collect the pieces of the broken ornament.

Steve hadn’t said a word yet, but he was still saying plenty. His shoulders were almost at his ears, and his fingers were shaking as they tried to grab onto the porcelain remains. His expression was neutral, but his eyes were starting to take on an honestly terrifying shine, and his blinking was getting more and more rapid by the second.

Eddie should have left it alone, should have given Steve space to collect himself, but he had never been good at leaving things be. So, knowing it was the wrong thing to do, Eddie knelt down by Steve and reached out to put a hand on Steve’s shoulder.

“Sweetheart?”

“It’s fine,” Steve instantly replied, a completely hollow smile materializing on his face as he continued to blink far too much. He leaned away from Eddie’s touch, a tiny jerky movement that put a twenty pound weight on Eddie’s chest. Steve scrambled upwards, cradling the broken ornament close to his heart as he continued to fake a smile. “It was an accident, Babydoll. No worries.”

It was an accident, but that didn’t make it ‘fine’. Steve was obviously so far from fine, and even that little silly name wasn’t enough to assure Eddie of the lie. It actually made it worse, like Steve was trying to appease him, to make Eddie let it go, when he really didn’t think he should.

“I’m gonna go see if we have superglue. It doesn’t look too bad,” Steve said to the entire group, still faking it. Unlike Eddie though, the rest were buying it, tension leaking out of them with relieved smiles and quiet sighs. “You guys finish up though, people will be here any minute.”

And then he was gone, ducking into the kitchen and disappearing from view, leaving Eddie unmoored and unsure of where to go. Every fiber in his being wanted to chase after Steve, catch him alone and hope that he wouldn’t keep trying to hide, but he was stuck in place. Steve had leaned away, escaped as soon as he could, that had to be a sign that he didn’t want Eddie near him.

Wasn’t it?

“Nice job, butterfingers,” Frank joked, gently jabbing an elbow into Eddie’s ribs in an effort to lighten up the air around him.

Eddie threw him a distracted smile, still staring at the doorway Steve had disappeared through and trying to ignore the part of him that was desparate to follow.

“I’m gonna go check on him,” Nancy murmured to Jonathan, nearly inaudible over the sound of Jeff and Frank looking for a broom to get any remaining slivers of porcelain on the ground. Jonathan nodded with a quiet hum, kissing Nancy on the cheek before letting her go without even a word.

Because it was oh so natural for an ex-girlfriend to leave her current boyfriend in the dust to go check on her ex-boyfriend.

Eddie watched her perfect little curls bounce in their perfect little ringlets as she practically skipped out after Steve. Now Nancy was going to go in there and comfort Steve, act all sweet and soft and drag Steve into thinking that she cared when she was the one that had cheated. Hell, maybe they would even kiss, and she would have her hooks in Steve again.

Why wasn’t Jonathan upset about this?!

… Why was Eddie so upset about this?

Eddie let his eyes slip shut, his breath escaping in one huge gust as he finally began to wilt. It wasn’t really any of his business. He and Steve were friends. That was all. If Steve wanted to kiss Nancy, then he would kiss her, and that wasn’t Eddie’s choice. All Eddie had was a fanciful crush, a ridiculous dream, a hope for something that he should never have let himself hope for.

But still.

“I’m gonna find a bathroom,” Eddie muttered to no one, slipping out of the room and carefully creeping down the hallway towards the kitchen.

He could hear the indistinguishable sound of voices coming from the room ahead, the open door tempting him closer and closer for a taste of what Steve and Nancy were discussing.

Was Eddie really doing this?

Yes. Yes he was.

Resolved, Eddie leaned against the hidden side of the doorway, letting his head hit the wall as he shut his eyes and focused on eavesdropping.

“-really don’t want to talk about it, Nancy,” Steve said, sounding utterly exhausted as cupboards opened and slammed shut.

“Okay,” Nancy relented, clearly not happy to let the subject go, “let’s talk about the other thing?”

Other thing?

“Other thing?” Steve asked. Eddie bit back a snicker, his heart fluttering at the way Steve had mirrored him without even knowing it.

“You invited Eddie?”

The humor instantly fled, rushing out of the hallway along with all of the oxygen, leaving Eddie dizzy and struggling to breathe. His indulgent smile soured into a scowl, and his hands curled into tight fists.

It was the tone. That tone that Eddie had heard his whole life. The condescending, lower-than-me, dirt on the shoes of society tone. It was the kind of thing that girls like Nancy could use because they lived in perfect two story houses on cul-de-sacs, and Eddie was trailer trash from the bad side of town.

Well fuck her. Fuck Nancy Wheeler and her stupid perfect life, and fuck her for hating him just for existing. Eddie could hate her right back. He had hating the conventional down to a science, an art form almost. He was brilliant at striking first, and he had half a mind to walk in there and tear her down a few notches, just for the fun of it.

“What is your problem with him?”

Eddie stopped in his tracks, blinking his eyes open and staring in shock at the wall in front of him, watching Steve’s shadow turn to face Nancy’s.

“I don’t have a problem,” Nancy scoffed.

“Obviously you do, Nance,” Steve shot back, crossing his arms “Eddie’s a good guy. They’re my friends.”

A good guy.

It wasn’t exactly a glowing recommendation or anything, but the words and the protectiveness in Steve’s voice was doing terrible wonderful things to Eddie’s stomach. His fingers were still burning from being held by Steve before, and now his brain was on fire too, caught in the blaze that was Steve damn Harrington.

“I… I just think he might be trouble,” Nancy admitted softly, quickly continuing when she heard Steve’s inhale of interjecting, “and not in the way you’re thinking! I promise.”

A long silence, one that gave Eddie too much time to think, one that left too much room for endless questions with zero answers.

What kind of trouble did Nancy think Eddie was dragging Steve into? What would Eddie do that she was so scared of? Did she really care that much about Steve’s reputation? Steve didn’t even care about it anymore!

Was she scared for her brother? Why was all of this so damn cryptic?

“In what way?” Steve finally asked, and Eddie leaned in, needing the answer.

“Just-” Nancy cut herself off with a frustrated little sound, and her shadow eclipsed Steve as she stood on her tiptoes to put her arms around his shoulders.

“If you ever need to talk. About anything. Me and Jonathan are here. We would never judge you for anything. You know that right?”

Eddie barely heard it, the words muffled between the two bodies, but he heard Steve’s soft chuckle, and saw the way his shadow arms wrapped around Nancy.

Even just an image of them on the wall looked so… right.

It made a small part of Eddie die inside.

He closed his eyes once, hating the burn that was already there waiting. He shouldn’t have come over and listened. He shouldn’t have done any of this. But as Eddie took a step back to walk to the living room with his tail tucked between his legs, Nancy spoke again.

“And you need to tell them about El before she gets here.”

El?

Who was El?

“Shit, you’re right,” Steve sighed, pulling away from Nancy, “I totally forgot.”

“Do you remember the story?”

“Nancy I’m the one that came up with it,” Steve said, annoyance tinging his voice, “I remember the story.”

Story?

Eddie was definitely eavesdropping about something bigger than relationship woes now, and the mystery of it all dug right into his soft spot, pulling him away from his aching heart and tugging him forward with a desperate need to know more.

This was the thing that Wayne always tried to warn him about. Eddie’s need to know everything was always getting him in trouble, and he had heard plenty of times about what curiosity did to cats.

That was all true… but the thing that Wayne always seemed to forget was that satisfaction brought that cat back.

“It’s important that we get this right, Steve. You know what-”

But whatever Steve knew, Eddie didn’t seem destined to hear it. As he leaned closer, intent on catching every word, he overbalanced, tripping over his own feet and slamming his entire body against the other side of the doorway, coming into full view of both of them. Steve and Nancy both jolted, pulling away from each other and staring at Eddie with slack jaws and wide eyes.

Fuck.

“This is what I get for never tying my shoes,” Eddie joked awkwardly, trying to be casual as he straightened up and let out the world’s worst fake laugh. His brain was racing, running as fast as it could to come up with any rational reason for him being there besides eavesdropping.

“Are you okay?” Steve asked, his brow furrowing. He didn’t even seem to catch what was going on, but Nancy was practically glaring, her lips pursed in quiet fury.

“I’m fine, Sweetheart,” Eddie reassured him, ignoring Nancy’s look in favor of focusing all of his attention on Steve. If he played it right, then Nancy calling him out would just look like she was against him, which Steve had already tried to stop.

He wasn’t being manipulative. This was just strategy, the same kind of strategic thinking that any dungeon master worth their salt would employ. It was improv, a game, an act. Nothing bad. Nothing wrong.

So why was guilt creeping cold fingers down Eddie’s spine?

“What do you want?” Nancy asked, clearly trying to go for nonchalant but coming off completely cold with her crossed arms and flat inflection. It wasn’t working in her favor if Steve’s quick sharp look was anything to go by, and Eddie did his best not to preen under Steve’s protection.

“Drinks? The boys were wondering if you had anything stronger than eggnog,” Eddie wondered, coming up with his excuse on the fly. It would work. Frank was never one to turn down a stiff drink, especially if it came loaded with whatever ridiculously expensive alcohol the Harringtons were keeping stashed away here.

Nancy tossed her hair over his shoulder, raising a single brow as her expression stayed firmly unimpressed. It made Eddie want to squirm in place, but he held firm, meeting her head on.

“You know there’s gonna be kids at this party, right?” Nancy said, her voice a little less frosty, but a hell of a lot more condescending. “And the chief of police.”

Eddie bristled, opening his mouth to tell her exactly where Hopper could stick it, but Steve intervened before he could.

“There’s nothing wrong with having a little,” Steve offered in a mediating tone, already moving towards one of the high cabinets and starting to open it. “But just one before they get here. Last thing I need is the brats trying to convince me they’re old enough for whiskey.”

“Jack and Coke? Or are you spoiling me with the good stuff?” Eddie asked, possibly laying it on an inch too thick, but unable to help it when Steve was giving him that fondly annoyed side eye.

“We do not drink the good stuff as a mixed beverage,” Steve lectured, grabbing a fat bottle from behind a box on the shelf and bringing it down, “but I think breaking out the crown wouldn’t be amiss.”

“A crown for a king!” Eddie crowed, taking the bottle of Crown Royal from Steve and wiggling his eyebrows. Steve huffed out a soft laugh, shaking his head at Eddie’s antics and turning towards the fridge.

“Here, Nance,” Steve said absentmindedly, holding out a bottle of coke for her, “take that inside and you guys can make your own before everyone else gets here. I’ll be in once I find the glue.”

“Why don’t I help you?” Eddie blurted out, his mouth moving before his mind even caught up with what he was saying.

“Oh, sure,” Steve agreed, still distracted as he began to root around in cupboards.

“You’ll be needing this,” Eddie said sweetly, offering up the bottle to Nancy as she walked past him.

Nancy’s eyes narrowed impossibly further, and she let out a short sigh, taking the bottle of alcohol with a vicious little swipe and striding out of the room. Eddie watched her go, barely resisting the urge to stick his tongue out at her retreating form.

He had won. That was what mattered.

Did Eddie even know what he had won? No, but he still felt like he did.

Once it was just the two of them, Eddie’s hackles began to slowly lower. There was no need to be on guard when it was just him and Steve. He idly twirled around the kitchen table, leaning against the counter on the other side of the kitchen and looking around the room with distracted curiosity. He had been in the kitchen before, but never really cared enough to explore the details.

Now every fridge magnet was a new discovery, and the way that the spices were lined up on the rack was information that seemed important. But the most interesting thing in the kitchen was the angel on the counter right by Eddie’s fingers.

It was a pretty thing, delicate, but somehow still beautiful, even in parts. The sculpted wings were curled around the figure of a little boy, kneeling with his hands cupped over a star. At the bottom of the ornament was the name ‘Jaime’ in ornate script.

Jaime.

“Who’s Jaime?” Eddie wondered aloud. He had mostly been talking to himself, but his words caused Steve to stop short, flying around from the drawer he had been searching through and whirl around to face Eddie.

“Where did you…” Steve trailed off, noticing the angel. He wilted like a dying flower, biting at the inside of his cheek as he turned his back to Eddie, returning to the drawer of odds and ends.

“Jaime’s my brother,” Steve said shortly.

Eddie’s shoulders were starting to tighten, but he pushed through the feeling. It wasn’t a rejection, or an outright refusal to speak. Steve was just being cagey, secretive the way he sometimes was.

Eddie could crack that.

“Ah, yes, the elusive mystery brother,” He joked, putting on a fake accent and bopping over to Steve’s side, bumping against him in an effort to get Steve smiling again. “Will the elder Harrington sibling be making an appearance at tonight’s festivities?”

Maybe if he was, Eddie would get some answers. Reasons for the panic attack at the Hideout, or some details on the mysterious ‘El’. The possibility of unraveling another part of Steve was enticing, coaxing Eddie further down the rabbit hole.

“Um…”

Just like that the curiosity was gone. Instantly killed by the way Steve’s adams apple was starting to bob, and the sharp shaking inhale that went along with it. Eddie’s heart fell to his feet, and his fingers felt cold for the first time since Steve had touched him.

“I was just kidding around. You don’t have to-” Eddie began.

“It’s okay,” Steve interrupted, still worrying his lip as his eyes darted around the room, looking everywhere but at Eddie. He was gearing up, trying to find what he wanted to say or maybe trying to force it out. Either way, Eddie was going to be frozen in place until Steve was ready to speak.

“Jaime um… Jaime died,” Steve finally managed, the word practically shooting out of his mouth the second he was done choking on it.

It was like being dunked in a freezing cold shower and tossed out in the snow. Not only had Eddie forced Steve into talking about his dead brother, he had broken the ornament obviously meant to commemorate him.

If he had a gun, he would be pushing it up against his temple. Nope. Even that wouldn’t be enough.

“Fuck,” Eddie hissed out, wishing he could just shut his damn mouth for once, but he was too keyed up to stay quiet. The apology was worthless, but it was already spilling out of his mouth, vomiting itself up, “Steve, I-”

“Really, it’s fine,” Steve insisted, busying himself with looking for the glue. “How could you know? Besides, he died before I was born, so…”

“So?” Eddie prompted, not really sure where Steve was going with that.

Steve said ‘so’ like that meant it didn’t matter, but from just one glance Eddie knew how much this did. Steve, who was one of the most open people Eddie knew, was hunched over, practically trying to disappear from Eddie’s gaze, hiding away whatever emotions were trying to push themselves up to the surface, demanding to be felt.

“So- I don’t know,” Steve said, cutting himself off with a sigh. He held up the tiny bottle of superglue, walking over to the other side of the counter, his back to Eddie again. “But it’s my mom’s favorite ornament, and she would get really upset if she came home and it was broken,”

Steve gave a tiny laugh that wasn’t really a laugh, the tip of his finger running over the edge of the wing like it had run over the satin of the ballet slipper ribbon.

“Not that I even know when she’s coming home again,” He whispered, the bitterness in the words so heavy that it was sitting on Eddie’s tongue.

It was just wrong. Eddie had never heard Steve sound so beaten down, even in the parking lot the other night. This was somehow worse than just watching Steve shake through an unseen panic that he couldn’t control.

But, unlike that night, Eddie could do something about this. So, rather than satisfy his own curiosity, Eddie put his needs to the side.

“Can I?” Eddie asked, holding out his hand for the glue and the angel. “I work on miniatures all the time. I’m super steady.”

Steve looked down at the hand outstretched toward him, then up at Eddie. A long slow look that went deep in Eddie, making him want to squirm with how far it was going.

Then, finally, Steve relented. He handed over the pieces and hopped up onto the counter, watching Eddie like a hawk.

Eddie immediately went to work, bending his head close to the angel and narrowing his eyes as he carefully glued first the broken wing on, and then the small corner of the name plaque. He held both in a firm but soft grip, balancing the ornament effortlessly between his hands as he waited for the glue to bond the pieces back together. And, as he did all of that, he worked up the courage to say what he was thinking.

“You know it’s okay, right?” Eddie whispered, unable to make his voice any louder.

“What is?” Steve whispered back, just as quiet.

“If you aren’t okay,” Eddie replied, braving a quick glance up at Steve’s face.

It was the wrong thing to do. The blank look of utter shock on Steve’s face was painful, hurting Eddie inside in a place he didn’t even know existed.

All at once Eddie was sure that he was the first person to ever tell Steve such a thing, and that was just… too much. It was too much pressure, too much potential to fuck it up and hurt Steve even more, too much of a chance that Eddie would say the wrong thing.

But it was also too much to not be sure Steve knew that it was the absolute truth.

“You’re allowed to not be okay,” Eddie said, gently placing the repaired angel in Steve’s palm.

Taglist: @paopaupaus @zerokrox-blog @surferboyzaza @whatever-is-a-good-name@minjintea @addelyin @5ammi90 @hagbaby420 @shinekocreator @bornonthesavage @starxlark @electrick-marionnett @resident-gay-bitch @ash-a-confused-enby @classicdinosaurdeathpose @valon-whomsttf @rotten-lil-goblin @thereindeerlady @love-ya-kash @kerlypride @sparkle-fiend @thefreakandthehair @flowercrowngods @milf-harrington @sadcanadianwinter @gothbat99 @hotcocoaharrington @henderdads @lightwoodbanethings @colorful565 @h0n3y-dw @craterbbox @sourw0lfs @lesliiieeeee @bidisastersworld @tinynebula @ravnlinn @bonescaro @mexmatch @cottagecoredreams @joruni @hellykelly @maegan1116 @farewell-wanderlvst @desertfern @due-to-the-fact-that-im-a-slut @anythingforourmoonyedits @eerielake @fandemonium-takes-its-toll @sidekick-hero

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hells-lady-v · 4 months ago

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Devil's Desire Chapter 4 - An Amateur Director

*TW: small amount of physical abuse. Suggestive language. 18+

Not sure where this story is going to be honest...

Chapter 4 - An Amateur Director

You sat in a directors chair next to a tall, purple mothman with red eyes and pink, heart shaped glasses. Flicking through a magazine lazily, you ignored the noises coming from the set in front of you, this wasn’t your first time in Valentino’s studio, nothing happening in front of you was a surprise anymore.

“Cut!” Val screamed, his hands shaking with rage as he flew out of his chair and towards the actors. “Fucking useless! How many times do I need to tell you?!” A hand flew across the actress's face and she fell to the floor, apologies spilling from her lips like a prayer.

“Vaaaal,” You sang for the third…no, fourth time that morning, not lifting your gaze from your magazine. “If they’re not doing what you want, then you need to change the way you direct them.”

Val hissed, “I’ve already told them!”

You rolled your eyes and sprang to your feet, throwing the magazine onto your chair. Your stiletto heels clacked on the cold floor as you slowly closed the gap between you and Valentino. You didn’t know anything about the film industry and even less about porn, but you did know one thing and that was how to speak to women. You glared as you walked past him and stopped in front of the actors, and rolled the red sleeves of your blouse up to your elbows before placing your hands on a tilted hip.

As you spoke to the actors, you could feel Valentino’s glare on your body, you could almost feel your hip burning from the look he was giving you. You glanced over your shoulder a few times and confirmed that he was indeed boring a hole into your soul. You knew wearing a tight skirt that was designed to highlight the hips and ass would have him like putty in your hands, it was almost laughable how easy he was to control.

You leaned closer to the actors, bending at the waist, “What he’s trying to ask you to do, is to change how you look when you suck on his-” you leaned in and whispered in the girls ear, you could almost hear her eyes widen as she nodded furiously. You pulled away and said, “Then, when you feel him begin to tense and shudder beneath you, you should take your mouth and-” you leaned in again, hiding the details from Valentino. You smirked when you heard a quiet growl coming from behind you. So easy. “Understand?” you asked the actors politely and turned to Val when they nodded. “I think they’re ready now.”

You returned to your directors chair and crossed your legs, now it was your turn to stare into Valentino’s soul as he slowly returned to your side, confusion plastered over his face as he tried to make sense of what just happened. “Trust me Val, if you don’t like it, I’m more than happy to make it up to you.”

Again he growled at you, he was trying to look intimidating, but to you it was like watching a jack russell terrier being cornered by a rottweiler. “Action!” He shouted, his voice clear and authoritative.

You watched him intently as his attention was on the scene unfolding before him. His expression changed from confusion, to interest, to shock and finally lust.

You leaned over and wiped the drool from the corner of his mouth with your thumb and smirked. “My darling Valentino,” you cooed softly, “To be the best director, you’re going to have to learn what women really enjoy, otherwise your direction will fall flat.” You stroked his face gently, enjoying the feel of him melting into you. “You’ll be a star baby, trust me.”

After filming had wrapped you led Valentino to your office on the top floor, in the elevator you explained the changes to the business and told him that Vox would be arriving soon to meet.

Stepping into your vast office, you smiled, everyday it reminded you of how far you had come in such a short amount of time. You poured yourself and Valentino a whiskey from the well stocked mini bar in the corner of the room and sat behind your large Oak desk.

“Vox will be moving in my darling, he’ll take the suite opposite yours. I think it’s about time you had a roommate, you can’t always hang around with whores and pornstars.”

Valentino folded his arms and huffed. “I have other friends,” he muttered under his breath like a fourteen year old boy would have done when being challenged by a parent.

You laughed lightly. “Imaginary ones don’t count, Val.”

“I-”

“Calm down, I’m only teasing.” You walked around to him and squeezed his shoulder. “I believe you,” you said with a nod.

A loud knock interrupted your teasing and the door slowly opened. “Lady V?” Vox asked as his head peeked around the door.

“Vox! Come in, come in!” you said, giggling slightly at the huff Valentino was now in. “This is Valentino, your new business partner and room mate. Val, this is Vox, he’ll be taking this enterprise to heights you’d never even thought possible.” You turned to Vox with a grin and handed him a glass of whiskey. “Drink up boys and let’s get to business.”

Ironing out the details took a few hours, thankfully those hours were fuelled with food delivery, plenty of drinks and quite a bit of laughter. The boys were getting along famously, as if they’d known each other for years. The excitement swimming in their eyes made your stomach flutter, this was going to work, it would be your most successful gamble to date and you could almost taste the power heading your way.

Valentino gasped and he started bouncing on his chair in excitement. “There’s someone else I’d like to bring into this!”

You perked your eyebrows as you watched him over your crystal whiskey glass. “Oh? We’ve just partnered with Vox, it hasn’t even been a day and you already want to bring someone else in? This better be good Val.”

Valentino nodded. “Her name is Velvette, she’s a designer, popular with the young demons. Her work is starting to get a lot of attention. She would make us the hottest business in the seven circles.”

You looked over at Vox, gauging his reaction to Valentino’s excited and brave proposal. A fashionista wouldn’t be the worst idea. Fashion was a business you hadn’t thought about before and you were surprised that it interested you. You lit a cigarette and took a deep, thoughtful drag. “Bring her in tomorrow morning, I'm sure a deal can be made if she’s interested. Tell her to bring a portfolio,” you said, smoke escaping your lips with every word.

Vox nodded thoughtfully. “This could bring us above the competition,” he said quietly, more to himself than anyone else.

“That’s the brand,” you said simply. “We will only offer and provide the best services to the population of hell. I want nothing less than perfection.”

Vox nodded again, “I can do that.”

#hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin x reader #valentino hazbin hotel #valentino x reader #vox x reader

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rvlsdlcrx · 2 years ago

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PRAYERS 【＃000.】

ATSV x Child！Reader

（Also the Miguel O'hara and Child reader I promised🥲）

Chapters:

【＃001.】－HLS.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ【TW!! Mentions of illegal human rights violation such as－illegal and unauthorized human experiments, human trafficking, profanity, vivid mentions of sex, gateway drugs, injuries, blood and such. Please proceed with tender caution for young audiences, thank you.】

Reminders; This will have parts so be patient, it'll be worth it I promise you<33 enjoooyy

Reader is 12 years old so don't even think about it.

English IS my first language, but I've spent majority of my life speaking my native language, so pardon my punctuation, grammar, spelling and error.

Based on the movie itself, huge credits to the studio of the movies and the team for making a great movie<3

Constant editing btw😭

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ✧. ┊ 𝚁𝙸𝚅𝙾𝙻𝚄𝚂 𝙳𝙴 𝙻𝙰 𝙲𝚁𝙾𝙸𝚇

【#000.】

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ𝙍𝙑𝙇𝙎𝘿𝙇𝘾𝙍𝙓。

－It wasn't long before you felt something rush into your veins, the agony that lingered your muscles to the cells of your body was beyond painful. All you could see before your eyes is the blurred vision of your father's laboratory, and of course. Him.

It's been always like this, ever since your mother had reached her passing since the birth of your brother－Soren. He was just a child and so did you. You knew damn well he didn't deserve to suffer the same faith as you, the same faith of a guinea pig. It sounds cruel－so cruel. But it's reality. And you don't want to live in that reality. No matter how many times you've begged your father－"Daddy! Please! No more… It hurts so bad!", "Daddy! I don't like it! I hate it! Please stop, it hurts!"－but no…

He was cruel.

……………………………………………………………………………………………………………

Huff, Huff, Huff.

Run, run as fast as you can! You like horses, don't you? Then run like one! You'll reach your goal!

The tender voice of your mother echoed into your mind, and it hurts, as well as your feet and legs as you used them to flee. But can you be free? Attempts after attempts, you'd always end up with a very bad bruise. But not anymore, you seeked the freedom you rightfully deserved. Your new given and unfortunate abilities give you the advantage. You used your own curse to flee the curse. It was painful. But it was worth it.

The red lights wash you disgusting, seeing things that shouldn't be seen by a child. Moans of greed and lust in stores, the face of pleasure on a woman's face. Your eyes watered as you see the cruel side of the world. Your panting became frantic as you heard a voice calling out your name behind you as you ran. It was a mad voice, and you didn't want to hear it anymore. You were desperate for freedom, you were sure you'd escape.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ"[NAME]!! COME BACK HERE! WE'RE NOT FINISHED!" You were scared to come back, your foot splashing the wet puddles of the cement floor as you ran. You were still running at the reeked alleyway of red. It was difficult if you found yourself bumping into someone as your hands would stick to anything that came in contact with it. The way you'd become so desperate that you began to run on walls, expecting to fall. You stayed.

So you ran, jumped and leaped, you've almost done everything just to escape him, and once you finally did, you were no longer in that red, reeked alleyway. You found yourself on the sidewalks of New York. You took a second to catch your breath, and now you smelled the scent of freedom. It took you a second before your eyes blurred with tears, you looked at the city and you were becoming overwhelmed. This is the freedom you've sought. This is finally it. Your war has ended… But the battle was beginning.

Suddenly, you felt your senses tingling and so suddenly. The whole city glitches and you see yourself being pulled to a wormhole. You were dragged into somewhere nauseous. You saw colours of the rainbow around you as well it's hysteric glitching, you were becoming overwhelmed. Confusion flashed before your eyes. As your body was going with the flow of the wormhole, you felt the vibrations of the violent voice from your father. You turned around and saw him holding a knife, he was still after you.

You tried to get away, and you did. You fell above the city, possibly in mid air－then it was it. You thought this was accidental suicide. But you accepted fate with open arms. You were going to die anyway. But your body moved by its own mind, not yours. Your wrist released webs and you were starting to swing at the buildings of the city. It was a miracle… A confusing one. But the feeling of air brushing against you feels euphoric, so you mindlessly continue to swing with your unfortunate abilities.

You felt freedom, the freedom that you've sought for so long. You saw the horizon of the sky and the city, divided in a perfect way. You felt a warm sense of appreciation in your chest, to the point you could've sworn that you have been swinging with a blurred vision caused by the tears in your eyes. It was delightful.

You aim from building to building as you swing with your webs, left to right you go as you hold onto the web. People around and under you are looking in your direction, either in awe and surprise. Some even yelled the alias; "Spider-Girl!" which you found confusing. You noticed to yourself that your face was bare to the eyes of the clueless yet curious citizens.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ"Shoot." You cursed under your breath, you immature swinged somewhere on the city until you found a subway. No hesitation did you swinged at the entrance, you looked at your back to see your father still chasing after you. You wanted to cry desperately, you wanted to yell how much you didn't want to ve with him. But it's a runner's game at this moment. So you had no choice but to use your legs to run down the subway. The police noticed this and began to chase after you.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ'Great, just great.' That aged up mind of yours sarcastically celebrated as you groaned in annoyance. However, that annoyance had a hint of frustration? That's right folks: Frustration. You ran down the stairs and leaped through barriers of the subway. You saw the police chasing after you as they began to call out for you.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ"Ayo, kid! Stop!" One of the officers yelled to halt down your running. But something on your guts tells you, you don't belong here. Which explained glitchings.

Speaking of glitching, you began to glitch hysterically, flashing colors and becoming a creature of deformity temporarily. The people around you was shocked, even horrified. Before one of them pulls out their phone to record on Facebook live, you felt something under your feet with heavy gravity. You immediately fell on that sudden hole under your feet, it didn't even gave you time to react－even with your enhanced senses.

Tch.

Rude.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤEND OF CHAPTER.

#across the spiderverse #atsv x reader #atsv x you #child reader #angst #spiderman #spiderman: atsv #spider man: into the spider verse #itsv #miles morales #gwen stacy #miguel o'hara #Hobie brown #pravitr prabhakar #peter b parker #jess drew #fluff #cliffhanger #－RVLSDLCRX

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avnche · 2 months ago

Text

WHAT ONCE WAS

Changin x Afab reader {angst-fluff}

PART TWO

It took you a couple of weeks to work up the courage to finally text Changbin. When you finally did it was like the two years not talking to him was just a distant memory. It felt like nothing had changed between you both which was comforting to you. He made you laugh even if it was just through text and it made you feel extremely touched that even with his busy schedule he made time to text you.

You began and ended the day with thoughts of him which confirmed that you still had strong feelings for him. You wonder if he shared the same feelings for you. Wishful thinking you thought.

6 MONTHS LATER

After months of texting, you yearn to see him again. You hoped that one day he might stop by the bakery but he never did. He was an idol that had to follow strict rules and a tight schedule. But this didn't stop you from texting him if he could hang out.

You were feeling bold but waiting for a response was nerve racking. Then moments later it was like your prayers were being answered.

He texted you an address and told you to meet him on the south side of the building in the alley. The instructions were a little weird but you knew it was probably for your own protection so no one sees the two of you together.

You thanked the heavens you didn't have to work today. It gives you plenty of time to get ready.

After a nice hot shower, you decided to wear something simple and cute. You even did a little make up which you don't often do. You're not even sure why you were going above and beyond to look somewhat nice. This is Changbin you're seeing. He was never bothered about your appearance before so you thought to yourself why you wanted to feel extra cute for him. Your not cute your mind kept telling you. Look at yourself, look how fat you are, you kept thinking these negative things about yourself as the more you got ready.

It got to the point where you didn't even want to go anymore. But how were you to tell Changbin that you've changed your mind and rather stay home? It was your idea to hang out anyway.

You mustered up some courage and finished getting ready before heading out to the address Changbin gave you.

Following the instructions Changbin gave you, you waited exactly where he told you to in the alley. Minutes felt like hours and you were really nervous.

Soon a door to the building opens and you jump in your skin. It was Changbin. "Hurry! Come inside." He said rushing you inside.

Without a word from him and you are too nervous to say anything, he led you through the building all the way to the 6th floor and to a small room. It was his studio he shared with his bandmates he told you as you both entered.

"Have a sit." He said ushering you to sit next to him. "I'm sorry my schedule is a little busy so I thought the best way to hang out is if you are here while I work." Changin said after you took the empty seat next to him. "It's fine...I'm kind of curious about how all this works." You said, interested in Changbin's work.

"I'm working on a few songs right now, you want to hear them?" Changin asked you. You were excited to hear what he was working on so you quickly nodded yes.

After a few hours of catching up and listening to his music you never wanted to leave his side even as it started to get late. You felt safe and comfortable around him. Something you haven't felt in a while.

"Do you still sing?" Changin asked you.

You haven't sang in years. The last time you did was doing karaoke with him before he went off to be an idol. "Not really." You said. "Do you want to record some ad libs for me? I think your voice would be perfect for one of the songs I am working on." Changin asked so cutely and even if you wanted to say no it was hard to say no to him.

You immediately caved and there you were in the soundproof room with the headphones on your ears and the lyrics to a song in front of you. Your heart was racing having to be put on the spot and Changbin occasionally watching you through the glass.

"You ready?" Changin asked. You looked at the lyric sheet and saw where he wants the ab libs. "Just do what you want. Feel the music." Is all Changbin said before playing the music. It was a soft rhythmic melody, soon Changbin's voice can be heard singing on beat with the melody. You were sure your cheeks were turning red hearing his voice this close and clear through the ear phones.

As the song went on you began to really get into it delivering every ad libs you felt fit the song. You easily immersed yourself in the song. Your eyes were closed as it made you feel like it was only you in this moment.

Changin couldn't help but stare at you in amazement. Your beautiful voice, your cute face, and plump lips singing on his song. A song he made for you, but of course you aren't aware of that.

After you finally finished and Changbin was happy with the results you came out of the booth and joined Changbin again. "I see you haven't lost your touch." Changin said referring to your remarkable performance. "I appreciate it." You said with a bashful smile.

You both sat next to each other again listening to the song you just sang on. Seemed both of you like each other's company a lot as neither wanted the other to leave.

Just as the song was finished playing for the third time someone came into the room.

"Chan!? What are you doing up!?" Changin jumps up. "I knew I heard someone else here with you. Who's this? If you don't mind me asking." Chan asked looking at you. You looked too nervous to speak.

"I told you before about my friend I had since middle school." Changin said. "Ahhh Y/n!" Chan expressed finally realizing who you are. You sat there in silence as you now are aware that THE Christopher Bahng knows your name. "I know it's risky with her being here but she's my best friend." Changin explained knowing Chan might say something about this anyway. "I don't mind...I trust you know what you're doing." Chan said before leaving the two of you alone again. "Sorry about that." Changin said. "Don't be...it's late anyway...and I have work." You said, getting up and walking away but just before you were out of reach, Changbin grabbed your arm. You turned around surprised by his actions but also confused. "When will I see you again?" Changin asked almost sounding so desperate and lonely. "I am free this weekend." You said.

Changin smiled. "Me too... I'll call you."

You left the same way you came in. Walking home you were very ecstatic. Changin actually wants to hang out with you. Your heart was racing with old feelings rekindling. You thought about how nice it would be if Changbin was your boyfriend. He was the only man you felt safe to be yourself around. But can someone as amazing as him ever be attracted to someone that is probably not even his type? You thought.

#skz x reader #stray kids x reader #changbin x reader #fanfiction #imagines #kpop #skz imagines #bang chan #han jisung #jeongin #felix #hyunjin #lee know #seungmin #changbin #fanfic

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rhymesalot · 16 days ago

Text

Nightlife (2 of 3)

Chapter II Wake Up

Steve steps back from the mic to calm himself before he totally lost it. Three deep breathes, the trick he was taught in prison to release tension. Soon after his breathing exercise Steve was able to regain his composure and get back to the microphone. “Sorry everyone, lost my cool there for a second. Lots going on this morning, I’ve got to a broken turntable on the floor with a bunch of useless wet notes and a really big, empty cup of my morning elixir, that is now soaking my favorite pair of jeans. None of which is all that important, certainly not compared to what’s happening to our good friends down in Slocum, our thoughts and prayers are with you. Gonna spin another record now so I can clean up my mess and then get to the phones. Nine nine six, twenty two hundred folks, I’d love to hear your thoughts. And if anyone happens to be passing by with a nice, big, fresh cup of Joe you will be generously rewarded, thanks in advance. Three dog nights’ may now be a thing of the past but Shambala will always be in our hearts and minds.” Steve loads the cart, forgetting to hit play and heads to the bathroom to clean up. He closes the door and takes his coffee soaked pants off to rinse in the sink. Sensing what should have been the end of the song Steve hastily hangs his wet pants over the then towel bar to dry and rushes back, pants less, to the console only to find there was no song and all the phone lines were flashing.

“I’m back, sorry for the dead air, I’m trying to clean up a little.” Ignoring the phones, Steve hit play, lit another cigarette and started cleaning up the wet mess all over the new carpeted floor in the newly bought studio. The old studio became far too valuable to rent to a mom and pop radio station, albeit an historical institution in Bailey. The station, first in town, sat high atop the Fin and Feather Grand Lodge, a five-story brick, granite, iron and glass eyesore that completely cluttered the vistas of the surrounding one and two-story buildings that fill Main street’s half mile. Built in 1885 by a wealthy and bombastic gentleman sportsman from Boston. The young heir intended it to be a sporting playground with year round hunting and fishing as well as numerous seasonal activities for the the hunters families. The lodge was complete with a gourmet restaurant, spa, several shops and a iron and glass pool pavilion with a waterfall. The nearby carriage house and equestrian center was to be the grandest in all of Maine, though never finished. It’s ruins still clutter that part of town and now used as a homeless camp. The Lodge itself saw many changes and uses over its long and troublesome life. Now, however, it was being returned to its former glory by yet another bombast from Boston, this time for luxury dooms-day condos.

Life was forever changed in that little town of Bailey and everyone knew it was just a matter of time before their first casualty. The southern quarter of the country had already lost almost half of its population, many headed north, but most didn’t heed the warnings in time. The remaining have adapted to the nightlife, with those who have to be out during the day now, absolutely having to wear a sun suit. A new sun suit factory was planned for Hestor, about twenty miles south east of Bailey, hopefully operational before the dreaded summer. Sun suit manufacture was now at war-time capacity and a whole new economy was taking shape with the almost total collapse of some industries and the invention and growth of others. Unfortunately the new profits were going back to the shareholders who caused the problems to begin with.

Bailey, too had seen drastic changes recently caused by airfilation, most noticeable being the fifteen – twenty percent population growth from all the terrified victims escaping the south and with more expected. Real estate prices were soaring, the cost of everything was skyrocketing. Main street vacancies were nonexistent, filled by new real estate and law offices. What once were tiny summer cottage rentals were now selling at well into the millions and the luxury lake houses were now causing bidding frenzies. This, of course, was easy money for those looking for the quick buck, legally and otherwise. Stolen guns and four-wheel drive trucks were by far the most profitable and biggest problem for law enforcement. Illegal drugs where getting scarce and very expensive, causing the addicts into more and more brazen criminal acts. The legal marijuana dispensary where too seeing increased break-ins and theft attempts in addition to being overwhelmed with all the new customers, predictably increasing prices .

Continued...

#Life #time #Death #Friendship #Distopia #Fiction

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harrisonarchive · 1 year ago

Photo

On February 15, 2001, George Harrison took part in two web chats (with Yahoo and MSN).

George: “May God bless you all. Don't forget to say all you prayers tonight. Be good little souls. Lots of Love! George. :) :) :) :) :) :) :) :) :) :)”

The full chat transcripts under the "read more" cut.

Yahoo! Chat Transcript  George Harrison 02/15/01 ChatYahoo_Lisa: Welcome to Yahoo! Chat ChatYahoo_Lisa: We are here with George Harrison george_harrison_live: Hello! george_harrison_live: It's nice to be here! george_harrison_live: It's my first time on a computer... I'm pretty illiterate :) yahoomusic asks: What made you decide to re-issue All Things Must Pass now? george_harrison_live: It's the 30th anniversary and I'm in the process of remastering my entire catalog george_harrison_live: Which I want to get back into the stores george_harrison_live: So we started with that one george_harrison_live: and hopefully during the year george_harrison_live: We'll be able to come with the next batch and so on george_harrison_live: So that everything I have ever done will be available. morvyon asks: George, are you planning a new studio album? george_harrison_live: Yeah. george_harrison_live: I hope to put out a new studio album george_harrison_live: Possibly in November george_harrison_live: and I have at the moment many songs in various states of completion george_harrison_live: Possibly 35 songs that I have been working on over the years. yahoomusic asks: Do you surf the internet much? What types of things do you do online? george_harrison_live: No, I never surf george_harrison_live: I don't know the password. willowy_blonde asks: Hi, my boyfriend wants to know, he's a musician what's your fave electric guitar and do you still have "Rocky" your '61 fender strat? george_harrison_live: Hello willowy blonde! george_harrison_live: I still have Rocky! george_harrison_live: and he can be seen at Cyril's rare guitar shop on allthingsmustpass.com timbarwick asks: Will you be releasing Living in the Material World in a remastered/extra tracks version? george_harrison_live: Well, as I said before george_harrison_live: That will be the next one to be remastered george_harrison_live: I have to get into my tape library to find out if there are any alternate versions of anything. silbeat asks: Hi George! Glad to hear from you again! Are you planning to do any live performances? If so, where would you like to play? (Please include Argentina!!!). With love from Argentina. Sole, Mara, Silvi, Vale, Gilda, Ale, Sami and Graciela. george_harrison_live: Hello Argentina! :) george_harrison_live: At the moment I have no plans for live performances george_harrison_live: If I do later, I will certainly come to Argentina rbortega2001 asks: What did you think of Bob Dylan getting nominated for an Oscar? george_harrison_live: I think he should win it! george_harrison_live: I think he should win ALL the Oscars george_harrison_live: all the Tonys george_harrison_live: all the Grammys pcpalmiere asks: How has The Rutles influenced your career? george_harrison_live: I got all my ideas from The Rutles! george_harrison_live: particularly the 12-string Rickenbacker and slide guitar styles I got from Stig O'Hara. george_harrison_live: I met him once and he is a super chap. oldmanalex asks: Hello from Russia, George! Russian fans invite you to play in Moscow! Can you tell, will the Traveling Wilburys reform? Are there any plans to record something with Tom Petty, Bob Dylan and Jeff Lynne? george_harrison_live: Thank you Russian fans! george_harrison_live: I'll be there after Argentina! nattyrobbo asks: Hi George! I'm Natalie, an 18 y.o. girl from Australia, and I'm a HUGE fan. Any hints for a budding guitarist??? george_harrison_live: Yes. george_harrison_live: Buy a ukulele! mike_n_tex asks: George, do you ever see a reunion tour with you and Paul and Ringo? george_harrison_live: Stranger things have happened. flatcat65 asks: George, Which version of My Sweet Lord do you like best, your original or the new version? george_harrison_live: I like the new version better. george_harrison_live: Because it's new! george_harrison_live: and I like Sam Brown singing it. ChatYahoo_Lisa: Why did you re-visit it? george_harrison_live: At the time, the song was so popular and also so controversial that the most important thing about it for me was that it george_harrison_live: in it's small way george_harrison_live: conjured up a touch of spirituality george_harrison_live: something we are very short of... ChristopherClause asks: Hi George! Christopher here! Thank you for being such an inspiration! What was it like working with Phil Spector? Although I can hear his influence, your "influence" and leadership in the production is clear. God bless you, George! george_harrison_live: Phil Spector was prob the greatest producer from the 60s and it was good to work with him because I needed some assistance in the control box. george_harrison_live: Phil is very funny george_harrison_live: loveable george_harrison_live: we love him :) mebissy asks: I have several teenage friends who've just discovered All Things Must Pass. They were wondering about radio airplay. I explained that this was a re-mastered, etc. album - a re-release essentially. They, however (as do I) feel the music is just as cool as it was when you first released the work. Wouldn't it be great if a single was selected and the whole cycle could start again? george_harrison_live: It's nice to know that teenagers find All Things Must Pass *cool* george_harrison_live: As far as a single goes, george_harrison_live: I suppose that's really up to Capitol Records george_harrison_live: I have no objection! melissay1 asks: Hi, Mr. Harrison, how do you feel about the Beatles 1 album being top of the charts? george_harrison_live: It's very nice george_harrison_live: It's also nice that young children seem to be hearing it for the first time george_harrison_live: and I think as an alternative form of music for today george_harrison_live: it has its place alongside all this other stuff. captainwombat_2000 asks: Out of curiosity, why the garden gnomes on All Things Must Pass? george_harrison_live: Originally, when we took the photo george_harrison_live: I had these old Bavarian gnomes george_harrison_live: which I thought I would put there george_harrison_live: like kinda... John, Paul, George and Ringo george_harrison_live: gnomes are very popular in Europe george_harrison_live: and these gnomes were made in about 1860 george_harrison_live: so, while building the website george_harrison_live: the gnomes just seemed to get into it and we just couldn't stop them! gearfabasitwere asks: Is Indian music still a big infuence on your music? george_harrison_live: Yes! ChatYahoo_Lisa: anything particular? george_harrison_live: Check out U. Srinivas a South Indian electric mandolin player george_harrison_live: eat your heart out Van Halen! moosefalva101 asks: Following the incident at your house on Dec. 1999 has your outlook on life changed at all? george_harrison_live: Yes and no george_harrison_live: Adi Shankara an Indian historical, spiritual, groovy-type person once said george_harrison_live: "Life is fragile, like a raindrop on a lotus leaf." george_harrison_live: and you better believe it! Nicole_Paul asks: I am curious about your website and the way the cover photo is altered by adding roads and urban development to the picture. Does that symbolize anything? george_harrison_live: Yes. george_harrison_live: It symbolizes that our world is being concreted over. Haven't you noticed? bluejeanbaby42001 asks: George, you have quite a reputation as a gardener...What are some of your "pride & joy" plants? Love, Dianne george_harrison_live: Well, for the cooler climates (as in England) george_harrison_live: The current trend is definitely toward Miscanthus george_harrison_live: You'll find many lovely varieties george_harrison_live: try the Zebrensis and also the Malepartis george_harrison_live: However, george_harrison_live: if you're gardening in the tropics george_harrison_live: I think you'll find a lovely little ginger called Kahili :P a_t_m98 asks: Mr. Harrison.. what is the opening chord you used for "A Hard Days Night"? george_harrison_live: It is F with a G on top (on the 12-string) george_harrison_live: But you'll have to ask Paul about the bass note to get the proper story. hari_girl asks: What do you think of Eminem's grammy nomination? george_harrison_live: What's Eminem? george_harrison_live: Aren't they choclates or something? beatles_lvr asks: You started the "band aid" movement; who would you help today? Love you George!! george_harrison_live: Bob Geldof! Moyette asks: What did you record with Bill Wyman last month? george_harrison_live: :) An old Ketty Lester song called "Love Letters" sharonconcannon2000 asks: Why was "I Live For You" left out of the original mix? (I think it's lovely, thank you for putting out at last!) george_harrison_live: I didn't think that we had got a good enough take on it. george_harrison_live: Except for Pete Drake, the pedal steel guitar player. george_harrison_live: At that time, I had so many other tracks as well, george_harrison_live: so we just left it off. george_harrison_live: It did need patching up george_harrison_live: in the drum department. pcpalmiere asks: How close are you to releasing that boxed set of unreleased songs and demos you talked about in Billboard some time back? george_harrison_live: Well, hopefully during this year I should at least get out a new album and all the other boxes of unreleased demos could possibly follow in 18 months. I'm trying to get everything that has ever been done out there. It'll just take a little time. nikolaidisgm asks: George, what do you miss most about John Lennon? george_harrison_live: John Lennon. michaelcalcina asks: George: In the Anthology book, you talk about the unwound G string. What is that? I play guitar and I'm not sure what you're talking about. george_harrison_live: It's one of those little things that goes up your butt so that people can't see your pantylines. george_harrison_live: No, It's actually a 3rd string that doesn't have a winding around it. spongeweed70508 asks: Does Paul still piss you off (tell us the truth) george_harrison_live: Scan not a friend with a microscopic glass -- You know his faults -- Then let his foibles pass. george_harrison_live: Old Victorian Proverb. george_harrison_live: I'm sure there's enough about me that pisses him off, but I think we have now grown old enough to realize george_harrison_live: that we're both pretty damn cute! incantataa asks: Mr. Harrison, I was wondering if you might tell us a bit about your ideas on love. Romantic love, that is. I recall you having written some of the Beatles' most beatiful love songs. It would be interesting to hear how your religious attitudes have impacted your beliefs concerning romanticism. george_harrison_live: Well, the lover that we miss is actually God. george_harrison_live: The beauty that you see within each other is actually God. george_harrison_live: So, Krishna was the greatest romanticist. He had girlfriends on every corner! george_harrison_live: I can't seperate the two -- a beautiful girl is the divine mother, a beautiful man is the manifestation of potential. fabzzy asks: You're joking in a most Pythonistic manner tonight George.., it's great to hear you online!!! george_harrison_live: PISS OFF!! george_harrison_live: You nosy bastard! i_arcos asks: Is it true that you recorded "Homeward Bound" with P. Simon? george_harrison_live: I recorded that with Paul Simon on Saturday Night Live back in 1853. tnntxx asks: George, given the drug experimentation of the 60's, how do you feel about the legalitzation of pot? george_harrison_live: Well, I saw someone on TV last night pulling out huge loads of pot out of various fields in California. My feeling is... george_harrison_live: as long as you can go into a store and buy george_harrison_live: whiskey george_harrison_live: bourbon george_harrison_live: and all the rest of it george_harrison_live: then, a little grass is nothing. george_harrison_live: the authorities are just causing the price to be high -- 'scuse the pun. ckeavenyuk asks: Have you any tips to budding songwiters? Do you, as John apparantly advised you stick at it until you have finished it. george_harrison_live: Try and write some melodies. And some words that mean something. george_harrison_live: It is true that if you are on a roll, then it's best to finish it in one go. george_harrison_live: That's what Johnny said. kdtash asks: Any chance that the Dark Horse material, esp. Shankar Family and Friends will be released on CD? george_harrison_live: Well, along with my own catalog of records george_harrison_live: the other Dark Horse records george_harrison_live: hopefully will be finding a new home george_harrison_live: and coming out on CDs (remastered) sometime in the future. mp0071999 asks: Hey George will you be ever be back on Yahoo? george_harrison_live: Possibly. It's pretty painless for me. kyntire2001 asks: Happy Birthday (a little early). During your recent Internet video promoting All Things Must Pass, you pointed to an engraving on the back of your guitar. What did the engraving say? george_harrison_live: It's a Maclaren strat and it had a metal chassis number plate on the back. george_harrison_live: Thank you all! george_harrison_live: May God bless you all. george_harrison_live: Don't forget to say all your prayers tonight. george_harrison_live: Be good little souls. george_harrison_live: Lots of Love! george_harrison_live: George. george_harrison_live: :) :) :) :) :) :) :) :) :) :) ChatYahoo_Lisa: Thank you sooo much for joining us....pretty please come back soon! george_harrison_live: Check out allthingsmustpass.com. george_harrison_live: for further entertainment! ChatYahoo_Lisa: Bye everyone!

MSN chat transcript - George Harrison, February 15, 2001

DishDiva : Welcome to MSN Live! Today we are pleased to welcome George Harrison to MSN. DishDiva : Please join me in welcoming Mr. George Harrison to MSN Live! DishDiva : Today we will be talking with George Harrison about the re-release of "All Things Must Pass." DishDiva : George, welcome to MSN Live! George_Harrison_Live : Hello, good evening! George_Harrison_Live : How's your father! How's your uncle? DishDiva : George, the Internet was not a part of your promotion last time around for "All Things Must Pass." What part does the Internet play in promotion for "ALL Things Must Pass" now? George_Harrison_Live : I suppose the fact that it is just like this and everyone is listening.It eliminates the time of someone printing up a Newspaper. DishDiva : SR says: Is it true that you were really asked to join the beatles because you knew all the chords to "Twenty Flight Rock"? George_Harrison_Live : No! Paul knew "Twenty Flight Rock" but I did too. DishDiva : Spockmiester55 Asks: What is the difference between the old and new release if any? George_Harrison_Live : The new release is remastered and is much much better to the record that existed up until now and it has five bonus tracks on it. It also has new packaging. DishDiva : Sherwood Asks: Will your other past releases receive the deluxe treatment as "Pass" did? George_Harrison_Live : It depends really. They will all be remastered. Whether the artwork will change, I don't know. It depends what we feel at the time and what the record company feels at the time. DishDiva : alina says: Do you remember how you felt making "All Things Must Pass"? DishDiva : jerryfender Asks: Don't you miss the old packaging with albums vs CD's? All Things Must Pass was great because even the box was huge! George_Harrison_Live : Twelve inch square artwork gets you more scope and greater impact.Those days the album cover used to be part of the overall package. It seems to become less important because it is smaller and not so many people are interested in the artwork. DishDiva : doodah says: Where were you spiritually then when you wrote the lyrics for "My Sweet Lord", and where are you now spritually, have you grown? George_Harrison_Live : Somebody said a very famous Indian saint said "if there is a God, we must see him. And if there is a soul we must perceive it." In the West they still argue if God really exists. Basically, I am in the same place. The song really came from Swami Vivekananda. DishDiva : iluvgeorge says: Will you be touring? George_Harrison_Live : At the moment, no. DishDiva : lidbaby says: Any musicians you like right now? George_Harrison_Live : Hoagy Carmichael. There are many, many, many musicians. DishDiva : babe says: Is most of what's been written about you pure rubbish? Is there any one book that's more accurate than any other? George_Harrison_Live : The one that is the most accurate is "The Beatles" by the Beatles. When a book is written by someone who doesn't like you, it may not be very good. DishDiva : WildingTangent Asks: Are you still writing and recording songs? How would your style of music these days? George_Harrison_Live : I am still doing that, yes. Hopefully, there will be one coming out at the end of the year. DishDiva : tedsblues Asks: Re: recording...analog or digital? George_Harrison_Live : I have always recorded analog except when I was in a live concert. Generally, I record on analog but I hear that digital these days are getting better. The bandwidth is getting better. DishDiva : arainyfriday Asks: Looking back, how do you view your book "I, Me, Mine"? If it were to be re-released, would you make changes based on perspective you have gained over the years? George_Harrison_Live : It was ok for the time. I thought it was well made. It was an excuse to have a nice leather book like the Bible.  DishDiva : liam0241 Asks: What was the inspiration for the song 'Run of the Mill' George_Harrison_Live : There was an expression that came from Yorkshire where they made fabric. Run of the mill just means average. I was using that phrase more or less, because, the Beatles were just splitting up. I don't know if they had that expression in America. DishDiva : sasha says: Hi Mr. Harrison. My dad and I like your site. Did you do it? George_Harrison_Live : I am not a technician. But I sat with people from Radical Media. They came to my house and set up the computers. The technicians did it and I kept thinking of ideas.I didn't have a concept of what a website was and I still don't understand the concept. I wanted to see little people poking each other with sticks much like Monty Python. DishDiva : You can check out George Harrison's website at http://www.allthingsmustpass.com DishDiva : rico Asks: What do you wish you could do, that you have'nt done already? George_Harrison_Live : Dematerialize my body. DishDiva : OKRichH says: I consider this a great priviledge to chat with you. Was the recording of "All Things Must Pass" a fulfilling outlet for you? George_Harrison_Live : Yeah, at the time it was very fulfilling- a chance to do a record of my own material. DishDiva : Brit says: What's the most popular misconception about you that people have? George_Harrison_Live : That I am serious. Pisces are depicted as two fish going in opposite directions. Many people do not see the humorous side. It is just as big! DishDiva : Beat says: Are you interested in all in the different sounds that electronics can add to guitar sounds, or are you more of a 'back to basics' advocate? George_Harrison_Live : More of back to basics. I really like the sounds they had in the 50's. Now you just buy something and plug it in. You can sound like Jimi Hendrix or whoever and everyone sounds the same. DishDiva : jediprincess00 Asks: what would you like to say to the younger generation that looks up to you? George_Harrison_Live : Try to realize what the purpose of being in a body is. There is only one purpose really and that is what you have to try to not forget. Who am I? Where did I come from? Where am I going? DishDiva : George, it has been a pleasur having you as our guest tonight! George_Harrison_Live : Lots of love and kevlar to everyone! George_Harrison_Live : It has been nice talking to you. Please enjoy the website! Ask_Questions_Live : The preceding is ( c ) 2001 MSN Live Thanks to our guest, hosts and to everyone that came to today's chat! Please remember that due to the number of questions received, it was not possible for our guest to answer each one individually. Thanks for coming to MSNLive! DishDiva : Again, you can check out George Harrison's website at http://www.allthingsmustpass.com DishDiva : You can also pick up the re-release, including, "My Sweet Lord" online at http://eshop.msn.com DishDiva : The transcript of tonight's very special event will be available later at http://chat.msn.com/msnlive

#George Harrison #quote #quotes about George #quotes by George #2000s #George's web chats #long read #fits queue like a glove

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