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loveshotzz · 7 months

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My name’s Elvira, but you can call me tonight

steve harrington x eddie’sbestfriend!reader

Tongue Tied

summary: A Halloween party, Brenda, and teaching Steve that shotgunning isn’t just a trick guys use to kiss girls.

wc: 2.9k

warnings: My blog is 18+ fem!reader, slight jealousy, and a little insecurity if you squint, fluff, weed smoking and mentions of drinking.

<- 🎃 chapter one | mini series masterlist

Tina’s ‘witches brew’ was maybe just as bad as the music she picked, but Steve Harrington was staring at you from across the crowded room.

You’d only ever seen Top Gun once, and in all honesty you didn’t even need to watch it to know that he looked better than Tom Cruise. The brown leather of his bomber jacket fits snug across his broad shoulders, and tappers tight around his waist. It’s half way zipped up, revealing the white shirt underneath and the aviators that he’d walked in wearing dangling from the collar. The weight of them pulls the fabric down enough to catch a glimpse of the dark hair that covers his chest, and your throat dries up at the thought of him shirtless. His Levi’s are light washed and well worn, a soft outline of where he usually keeps his wallet dangerously close to where your gaze wants to linger. The black combat boots he wears somehow make his feet look even bigger, your thighs press together under your dress.

His eyes roam the length of your body the way you hoped they would when you decided to dress up as The Mistress of the Dark herself. Your plunging neckline begs for his hungry gaze, and you push up your chest to encourage it. A thick black belt hugs tight around your waist, accentuating your curves in a way that has you feeling more confident than normal. Especially when you catch the way he bites his bottom lip in a smirk, darkened eyes lingering on the fake dagger resting against the softness of your tummy. Wiggling your long black nails at him, you can’t help but relish in the fact that a simple wave makes the former king of Hawkins cheeks flush the same shade of red as your lips.

It had been four days since that night with Steve. A whole 96 hours and the boy across the room from you has occupied your thoughts for every minute of every single one. It was becoming a real problem, but yet here you were at a Halloween party you’d already said no to because you knew he would be here.

Robin’s very obviously telling a story next to him, her hands moving wildly as she gets more worked up with whatever is happening in it. She’s too focused on the way Nancy’s giggling in front of her to notice that her best friend isn’t listening, the full weight of his attention making your insides warm.

Is this what it’s like to be one of those girls?

Steve chugs the rest of his beer, throat bobbing with every large gulp before wiping his lips with the back of his hand. He holds your gaze even when you see him say something to Robin who waves him off, lost in the oldest Wheeler’s big blue eyes, and the first few steps in your direction is enough to send your heart into overdrive.

You almost lose sight of him when he starts to cross the makeshift dance floor in the living room, his wild auburn hair the only thing staying in your line of vision. It’s a mess of dancing bodies, and orange and black balloons already starting to lose their luster falling from the ceiling.

His eyes meet yours in the crowd and you feel the heels you can hardly walk in start to carry you closer, stepping over the empty cups and streamers that litter the floor. His smile widens, and you can’t find it in yourself to be embarrassed when you feel your cheeks push up doing the same.

It’s when Steve finally makes it to the edge of the crowd, stopping just a few more steps away from you when it happens. When she happens.

Brenda.

She’s dressed as Madonna, her perfect blond hair teased just right, giving it more volume than Steve’s even on his best day. Black fishnets cover her toned legs, with a matching tutu that leaves little to the imagination stopping just above the curve of her ass.

The corset she wears gives her breasts the kind of push that you know is the reason for Steve’s blush when she steps in front of him. Perfectly manicured pink nails dragging up his chest before her palm flattens just underneath where his sunglasses hang.

His eyes flicker between the two of you, a nervous laugh leaving his mouth at whatever she’s saying. He scratches the back of his neck when he responds, and it makes her throw her head back in flirty giggles before her fingers start playing with his jacket zipper.

The sting of rejection is harsher than you thought it’d be, and you hope he can’t see the way it wipes the smile clean off your face. Girls like Brenda always seemed to be the boy’s kryptonite. The urge to find your best friend is what keeps your feet moving, almost like that was your plan all along. The joint you stashed away earlier in his jacket pocket calls your name, and you don’t look at Steve as you walk past the two of them, even when you see his hand reach out for your wrist.

It’s just Steve anyway.

You keep telling yourself that, hoping that it will ease the slight lump in your throat. An anger bubbling just under the surface turning the heat in your stomach into something more like lava, a volcano bubbling, just ready to explode as you try to convince yourself that you don’t have a crush.

When you find Eddie in the next room, his tongue deep in his girlfriend Cece’s mouth on the couch, and you can’t hide the bitterness that drips from your tone.

“Make sure to get some oxygen so you don’t pass out, Jesus Christ.”

Your rude interruption makes them both pull apart with a loud smack, the fake blood he’d sloppily smeared down the corners of his mouth almost gone leaving a pink stain on his pale skin instead.

“What’s your deal? Can’t you see I’m a little busy.” Eddie’s gaze narrows into an annoyed glare, “Aren’t you supposed to be doing the same thing to Harrington.”

“That’s not why I came,” you snort, crossing your arms and it makes him raise his eyebrows in disbelief.

“Bullshit.”

The two of you stare each other down, unwavering, it’s only when his eyes flick towards the dance floor that he sees the cause of your sour mood. The hard lines on his forehead soften before he rubs a ringed hand over his face with an exasperated groan. Cece wraps her arms around his waist tighter, hearts taking over her pupils when she gets a front row seat of her boyfriend being your best friend.

“Here,” he sighs under his breath, pulling open his jacket to pluck out the perfectly rolled joint inside his hidden pocket. He holds it out to you in a peace offering.

“Thanks,” you mumble as you take it, giving him a weak smile before tucking the cone in your belt next to your lighter, “Go back to sucking each other's faces off, sorry to interrupt.”

Your joke makes her giggle, and Eddie grin in the kind of way that's contagious.

“He’s an idiot,” the metal head tries to comfort, “Honestly, he’ll tell you himself.”

“I’m fine.” You keep your expression as unreadable as possible, but you know it's futile to try and hide from him, “It’s just Steve.”

It’s colder outside than when you first got here, and you don’t have nearly enough alcohol in your system to keep you warm. Goosebumps rise on the inappropriate amount of skin you have showing for the season, making you wish you’d grabbed your jacket. The breeze rustles the leaves that refuse to let go or their brittle branches, mixing with the muffled bass of the music inside, while your heels make a hollow thump against the wood of Tina’s back porch.

Pulling out the joint and your lighter from your belt, you take a seat on the top of the stairs that lead to her backyard. There’s a shiver that runs down your spine as your thumb flicks the wheel that brings the flame to life, a temporary heat warming your face as you spin the fat end over the fire to burn it evenly. The earthy smell hits your nose, shoulders already relaxing before you take the first toke. Bringing it to your lips, you tuck your lighter back inside your belt, leaning back on your palm to look at the clear night sky above you as you inhale your first drag into your lungs.

It’s just Steve.

When you exhale, your eyes stay trained on the white wisps of smoke that shades the twinkling of the stars behind it and you try not to think of Brenda’s pink nails running through his hair. Your next hit is much bigger. The music from inside gets louder, making you jump when you hear the sliding glass door open. Straightening up, you turn around with a glare ready for whoever the intruder is, only to be face to face with the boy you’re trying to convince yourself you don’t like.

“Hey, there you are.” His smile is easy, and you hate that it warms you like the sun just from looking at it.

You raise your eyebrows in acknowledgment, hollowing out your cheeks taking another drag before bringing your gaze back to the sky. His boots sound heavier than your heels against the wood, some steps making the deck creak under his weight. The silence is thick with words on the tips of both your tongues, but neither one of you is willing to break it first. He sighs awkwardly out of his nose, rubbing his palms against his thighs before taking the seat next to you. Your knees knock together, and the heat of him so close sends another shiver down to your bones.

“Jesus, you have to be cold. It’s like 40 degrees outside.” Steve doesn’t hesitate to start shrugging off his jacket, and you clock the movements from the corner of your eye.

“Steve, no, really I’m fine,” you try to protest but he doesn’t listen, thick tan arms coming into view.

“Please, I can hear your teeth from here,” he chuckles, standing up to drape the leather over your shoulders, and you try not to stare at the way the hem of his shirt rises up revealing a dark happy trail.

It feels like he’s everywhere when your shoulders slot into the warm pockets where he just was, wrapped up in him just like on your couch. The spice of his cologne clings to the fabric on the inside, and you have to fight back the urge to bury your nose into the collar and inhale.

��Well aren’t you gonna be cold now?” You ask, finally daring to meet his eyes, taking another hit.

“Nah, I’ll be alright.” He winks with the kind of confidence that makes your face hot, clasping his hands together over his spread knees making your shoulders bump.

“So, Top Gun huh?” Giggling, you finally earn a Steve Harrington eyeroll.

“Look, I didn’t have to buy anything okay. I wasn’t even going to come tonight, until I heard,” he stops himself, pink dusting his cheeks and you don’t think it's from the frost in the air, “I’m surprised you’ve even seen it, doesn’t seem like your type of movie.”

“What’s my type of movie, Steve?” You grin with a cocked brow, letting the end of the joint rest against your bottom lip, the heat from before blooming deep in your gut when he tracks the movement licking his.

“I don’t know,” his heavy gaze makes your throat bob, “You tell me.”

You don’t think you’re talking about movies anymore.

“Isn’t Brenda going to be looking for you?” You tear your eyes away from him, taking another hit to seem nonchalant. The loud snort you get in response makes you jump.

“Brenda? No, I’ve been dodging that girl for months.” Running a hand through his hair, he dares to snatch the joint from between your fingers like he was some kind of professional or something. “Is that why you ran off on me in there?”

“I did not run off!” You huff, ducking your head inside his jacket to glare at him from over the top of it, “Why would I do that?”

Vulnerability softens Steve’s features when he looks at you tucked into his coat like it’s always meant to keep you warm.

“I don’t know,” he repeats quietly, “You tell me.”

Too scared of rejection, it’s his turn to look away bringing the joint to his mouth in an attempt to take a hit. You watch him hollow his cheeks, impressed for a second until he opens it to exhale and blows nothing out. A giggle slips past your lips that breaks the tension, making him groan loudly trying to fight his own smile.

“Look, I’m still new at this okay.” He sighs, a breathy laugh escaping him with a shake of his head handing it back to you. He’s only a little embarrassed, too enamored by how cute you look giggling at him.

“Hey, the confidence was there, you just gotta work on the technique.” You tuck your bottom lip between your teeth, something sweet dancing behind your eyes when you scoot a little closer. “Do you want me to shotgun it for you?”

It’s Steve’s throat that bobs now.

“Aren’t guys supposed to do that to girls? I mean, I’ve seen Eddie do it at a few parties…” he starts, eyes going wide when you scoff at him.

“Wow, your feminism is showing.”

“No, that’s not what I meant, it’s just like in movies - I’m not saying girls can’t - wow this is not coming out the way I want it too, I’m just going to shut up now.” Steve stammers, running another nervous hand through his hair, blowing out an exasperated breath before meeting you

with sheepish eyes.

“Are you driving tonight?” You ask, looking up at him from under your lashes, bringing the joint to your mouth.

“No, for once.” He gives you a lopsided grin that makes your head spin.

“Good.” Turning your body towards him, the confidence you’re trying to hang onto wavers being this close again.

It’s just Steve.

He looks nervous as you feel, but tries to hide behind a quiet laugh, the amber of the beer he drank inside lingering on his breath. The warmth of his palm finds a home on your fishnet covered thigh that’s revealed to him by the side slit of your dress, fingertips pressing into soft skin. The heat behind his stare makes your body buzz as you inhale the last little bit of the joint into your lungs, beckoning him closer with a hum, and a curl of your long nails you snuff the rest out on the stairs. Surely Tina won’t mind.

“Really?!” Steve half whispers, half yells but the whites of his teeth show giving him away.

The corners of your mouth twitch as you lean forward catching the way his gaze flicks down, and how the view makes the gold specs inside his eyes darken. Resting your hand on his cheek, the stubble tickles your palm when your fingers spread out, your thumb coaxing his chin down to open up more for you. His long lashes flutter when his nose bumps with yours, heads turning just enough for lips to brush for a second and you feel the blunt ends of his nails dig into the holes of your fishnets.

You release your hit, feeling him steal the air from your lungs, his hand daring to move up your thigh to your waist where he tugs you even closer. He holds it in for a second, both of your eyes meeting down the bridge of your nose but neither of you pulling away.

Do it.

When he exhales there’s hardly anything left, but you take it anyway, your fingers finding their way to the hair at the nape of his neck. He squeezes at the dough of your hips, in a silent plea to put him out of his misery and just when you think you’re about to show him mercy the sound of the music getting louder and the sliding glass door opening makes you both jump away.

“Hey! - Oh shit! Sorry Harrington, I didn’t know you were out here.” Eddie tries to apologize profusely with his eyes when he sees the glare you’re shooting him. “I just sold the last of my stuff and Cece’s ready to go, so if you still need a ride?”

Your best friend looks at Steve begging him to take the opening to hopefully spare his life.

“I didn’t drive tonight if you can actually believe,” Steve laughs nervously scratching the back of his neck, “or obviously I’d love nothing more for you to stay.”

He says the last part softly, just for you more than pleased when he sees you try and fight the smile from taking over your face.

“Maybe next time,” you look at him from under your lashes hoping that he picks up the fact that you want a ‘next time.’

The blush that turns the tips of his ears pink tells you he does. He watches you get up and start to shrug his jacket off, shaking his head as he stands up to stop you.

“Keep it tonight, honey. It looks better on you anyway.”

-> chapter three

#my writing #steve harrington #steve harrington smut #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x reader smut #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington fic #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington thoughts #steve harrington series

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littledollll · 1 year

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Self indulgence

Larissa Weems x reader

A/n: I started writing this while I was high asf, I think I should get high and write more often (march 14)

I wasn’t gonna post today but I just realized it’s 4/20 and this is s weed related fic I have to.

Warnings: no full on smut ig, thigh riding, smoking, shotgunning, teasing

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It was rare that Larissa let you indulge yourself like this, it’s not that she didn’t want you to. Clearly she more than enjoyed it when you did.

Risking your very job and hers, just for the sake of fun and pleasure. Luckily it was a staff day, meaning students would have no business being around the office halls.

You were sat at her desk, on her lap as her hands wandered your soft skin. Her balcony doors open and rolled joint in your hand, already half burnt off.

You took another hit, eyes blissfully closed, your forehead resting against hers. The slow roll of your needy hips against her thigh making your breathing unsteady as you tried to bite back your whines. This is all she would allow you, you knew that.

She patted your thigh, “Pass it, baby.” You immediately shot up to see if she was serious, to which she nodded looking up at you.

That was always quite the sight, one that you so rarely got, having her look up at you. You hummed, taking another, longer, drag. Your hands came up to her face and you gave her a giddy smile as you leaned down. Your lips just barely brushing together, just enough to have her gripping your thighs tightly. “Don’t tease, pretty one or you’re not getting rewarded.”

Larissa wasn’t inexperienced at all when it came to this, not before you and certainly not while with you. Slowly, you passed the smoke into her open mouth and Larissa had no troubles inhaling all of it.

With a pleased hum, Larissa nuzzled into your neck, soft lips lightly trailing your sensitive skin, down your neck to your shoulders and collarbone. Hips bucking at the feeling, you whined.

“Such a responsive little thing..” there was nothing harsh in the way she touched you, it made you crazed how you could only feel light touches, the tips of her fingers touching anywhere she could, you wanted more, you needed more.

“Behave for me, sweet one, you might just earn yourself a reward.”

Oh how you love her rewards.

“Yes, mistress.” Was all you gave her, and all she needed to continue your torture.

#larissa weems smut #larissa weems #larissa weems x reader #principal larissa weems #larissa weems wednesday #larissa x reader #larissa weems nevermore #wednesday larissa weems #larissa #420weed

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xjulixred45x · 6 months

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Hi if it's okay could I please ask for a romantic yandere Gojo with kianna

Like say he meets her because she's known as a sorcerer killer like she uses a curse shotgun and

she's killed so many Sorcerers it ended up with a

bounty on her head but knowing the amount of

body she's dropped no one has tried to kill her and he meets her because she worked with him on a job

And the Sorceress that don't want to try to kill her or want to use her blood she works with

By the way if you need any info about her it's on my patreon Tumblr

Pretty cool! I'll do My Best

Yandere! Satoru Gojo x Sorcerer Killer! Reader

Genre: Headcanons

Reader: female(ft. Kianna from @nunezs-stuff )

Warnings: YANDERE(kind of soft, but still yandere), UNHEALTY MINDSET, OBSESIVE BEHAVIOR, MANIPULATION, intimidation, Reader is kind of a Assasin, Minor violence, Shady things in general.

You get in the business thanks to your...father. at a very Young age.

He was a sorcerer hunter, but he was much more interested in his job than in taking care of you, so you learned to do it on your own.

You were interested in the business at first because you wanted to be close to him, but you quickly realized that you would never have a REAL trust with him, a bond.

less when he apparently had your sister, his apparently favorite daughter and the only person you really loved, killed.

It was the straw that broke the camel's back and you developed a severe trust problem.

So you mainly locked yourself into your assassin capabilities to deal with it, you practiced, you trained, you stayed as far away from people (and your father) as possible, etc.

You had your favorite mistresses, but you were a very capable assassin whatever you used.

You were proud of yourself. so you started having your own targets instead of low level sorcerers.

That's how Gojo knew about you at first.

And honestly? You give him REALLY Bad flashbacks about Toji. SPECIALLY when he saw videos of you using your shotgun.

and at first Gojo wanted to say that he absolutely hated you, how could he not? You are like a reflection of one of his biggest traumas after all, no one blamed him.

But the more evidence the higher-ups brought about you and the more he had to know about you, the stranger he felt about you.

Satoru could sense that you were weak, so how the hell did you manage to kill so many sorcerers on your own? You were truly an anomaly.

Gojo began to have the need to want to know more about you. Why had you chosen this life? Why not another? What was your life like before that? He could do whatever he wanted, so it wasn't difficult for him to find practically your entire life story.

and in some ways he is intrigued.

To clarify, a Gojo Yandere has difficulty seeing you as an individual, so seeing that you have your own reasons, motives, LIFE, is what regenerates interest.

but that interest becomes increasingly morbid.

You're one of the most uninteresting things he's had for years, something he spends time researching and learning more about, like a test subject, is as bad as it sounds.

You are something new and interesting even if you are weak.

You're entertaining enough to amuse him watching you do your "antics" (kill people) but you're nowhere near as strong as him.

but when the higher ups give the order to put a target on your head, it changes. Sure, it's something that can't be avoided, but it's not like I'm going to let anyone other than HIM go kill you and/or capture you.

so he decides that he will do it himself.

and honestly? It doesn't take him long, with the contacts he has + the 6 eyes, finding you was a walk in the park for him.

But he wanted to see if you would be as interesting as you looked on paper and in videos.

and MY GOD, you reminded him of his meeting with Toji, what happened at Jujustu Tech, so many flashbacks came to his head and he felt for the first time in a long time OVERWHELMED with emotions.

he loved it.

and he knew that he couldn't miss the luxury of having you, he couldn't kill you. let alone let someone else kill you.

Honestly, you were scared, you already knew you had no chance with SATORU GOJO, so you tried to run away rather than fight, but obviously it was of no use. Even when you decided to fight it was useless. you expected Gojo to just attack you and kill you.

...but he wasn't doing any of that and it was starting to scare you, you didn't know what he was going to do.

Being in that state of total alert and fear (even if you hid it as best as you could, it was impossible for Gojo not to see right through you) imagine your surprise when you lost consciousness and when you regained it you were in a completely different place.

to begin with, with seals on your body that did not allow you to use cursed energy, and to top it off, without being able to leave said place (a Japanese house? where the Gojo clan lives).

If we go into more advanced terms of """""relationship"""" Gojo is very annoying as a Yandere, everyone knows it. But in this case especially some aspects are maximized and others are more lenient.

for example, with Gojo you can go out! but only to places where there is open space and just to be able to fight again, she seems to take some pleasure in beating you over and over again, or even giving you the chance to escape only to crush her at the last moment.

He's a sadistic son of a bitch in the emotional sense.

(You could say that since you remind him so much of Touji, it's like he's taking """loving" revenge" for everything he put him through in his youth, while also keeping you in line to that you understand "your place" so to speak).

He is VERY clingy, he cares little or nothing if you don't want cuddles. In fact, it only encourages him more to do it. Poor thing, you probably didn't receive any kind of affection from the shitty father you had, let him pamper you to make up for it~ CREEPY ASF.

About that, it's scary how much he knows about you, now that you're "dead" to the higher ups, he has a lot more information about you and he uses it against you (either to weaken you mentally or to make you develop Stockholm syndrome faster) .

He is PAINFULLY condescending, but at least he does not reach the point of infantilization or other extremes such as wanting to make you completely useless, it helps him that you are useful, NOT SO USEFUL AS TO FLEE, but enough to entertain him.

He is also a master at giving mixed signals.

I mean, yes, he kidnaps you ONLY because you entertain him and you are fun for him like a toy....but he also takes care of your wounds when you return inside his house, he makes food for both of you, he acts as a therapist so that you can talk to him on your own. about your horrible childhood and your bad relationship with your father, etc.

Obviously this is intentional, although over time he becomes more "genuine" and you could tell that he really cares about you in his own way.

and like any good yandere, he gets rid of anyone he feels is an obstacle to his goal. Even if he doesn't have any rivals, Gojo will definitely kill anyone he sees as potentially treating you in the future.

He has definitely killed your father for quite some time and you will be very lucky if he doesn't come to show you his decapitated head like a fucking hunting trophy :)

He is like a child without knowledge of suffering.

He simply has such NO knowledge of empathy that he doesn't know what he should do with all these new feelings and sensations that you generate in him.

He's not overprotective as such (he knows that if anything he should protect people FROM YOU) BUT he's definitely too possessive. As I said, he doesn't see you as an object as such, but he just doesn't know how he should refer to you. so it is very prone to using possessive adjectives.

escape attempts are received as jokes, literally, he cannot take them seriously. although in a way it is a double-edged sword, on the one hand you do not receive any punishment as such apart from a particularly sticky Gojo (isn't that a punishment in itself?) but on the other hand, again, so close and so far...

If you behave "badly" in the sense that you don't cooperate, you are rude to him, you try to escape too many times, etc. Gojo seriously thought about a severe punishment, but I don't think he'll do anything to break you... intentionally.

I think how much in this case it would scare you to death as a warning for you to start "behaving" but nothing more severe.

If you develop Stockholm syndrome, he's over the moon! His clingyness level would increase to 300% and even your life you can recover several basic rights, such as going out ON THE STREET with him and being able to have more autonomy. Even of course, Satoru dictates everything, your clothes, your food, your room, etc....

Be that as it may, for a Yandere Satoru, you are great entertainment, something worthy of his time, a wild cat that he is willing to tame, but an equal? not closely...although he is willing to try to find out what this feeling is that you have awakened in him, so you are not leaving him anytime soon.

or better yet. NEVER.

(just to clarify, TOJI IS NOT READERS DAD, ITS JUST A COMPARATION I MAKE ON MY OWN)

I hope You like it!!

Shares reglogs and comments are very welcome!

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zmediaoutlet · 3 months

Note

happy wincest wednesday!! what's an example of an episode or storyline that you think would play out differently with sam/deanna? and is there a trope you think would suit the hetcest dynamic better?

hello, my femme deanna-truth bud, happy wincest wednesday to you. and perhaps it's proof of how fantastically well Deanna cleaves to the actual characterization and canon of the show that every storyline that's popping to mind is just enhanced by the sex/gender change. Like -- soulless!Sam letting Dean get turned into a vampire and how that vampire sire was absolutely a creepy rapist? That but with Deanna? Identical, just more... obvious. Sam having a relationship with Amelia, while Dean has a "relationship" with Benny, and how that's written as a dual affair where they have to dump their mistresses? If Deanna's in Purgatory with Benny, there is absolutely zero question that they were fucking, and it's just actually explicit instead of heavily implicated in subtext.

I think one thing that would maybe genuinely feel different would be the time when Mary came back. You can play it a lot of ways, but it doesn't seem unreasonable that Deanna might have a much more complicated relationship with the absent sainted mother than Dean did. For one thing, Mary doesn't get the safe madonna-distance due to gender difference -- and while Dean's mother-and-wife replacement status for John is subtextual in canon, Deanna gets it with both barrels. When she sees what happens when Mary makes that deal to bring John back -- when she sees that Mary wants to have a 'normal' life -- when she knows that Mary's choices have doomed not just the family in general but Sam in the specific (and setting aside that destiny and literal God have conspired to bring Mary to the place where she would do those things) -- Dean clearly has some resentment but manages to set that aside for the beloved mother on a pedestal. I think Deanna might be significantly more pissed off, and overtly. Rather than simpering big-eyed at the lovely mommy in the white nightgown, I think she'd go quite frosty and resentful and thinking, yeah? You weren't the one who had to deal with what your choices actually meant.

How interesting it'd be to have Sam in the middle of that particular weirdness. Imagine Mary coming out with those little nitpicky 'mom comments' about how Deanna wears her hair or how she dresses or wondering why she cleans her shotgun that way and Deanna getting ready to fucking explode, lol. I wouldn't have given you the damn thing if I didn't think you'd take care of it but times a hundred, a thousand. Imagine Mary making that deal with the Letters and Deanna not just icing her out but fucking decking her in the jaw.

...This actually isn't all that different to canon either, is it, lol. Deanna just always makes whatever textually happens to Dean more intense, more overt, more there, in a way that isn't the lovely interpretability of canon but just IN YOUR FACE. Our little object without agency, parentified and wifed, battered on all sides.

Oh, and for the trope: legit D/s. More obvious on the face of it, but actually more subversive and alarming if you think longer.

#for my sanity i am ignoring the timestamp on this ask #it's embarrassing #happy wincest wednesday #idk if people want to do asks or whatever anymore #what is participation lol #but let me know if you want a thing #answers

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prettyboyfinley · 5 months

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Sometimes I can’t stop thinking of having a mistress who just sits me on her lap and makes me take hit after hit. Even when I’m so high I can barely shake my head no before she makes me take another hit. Once I start not being able to hold my head up anymore she holds my face to hers as she shotguns one last hit to me and finishes it with a kiss so that I am forced to hold it in until my head is spinning and fuzzy.

To have her hold me and tease all of my sensitive spots knowing that I can’t try to escape because I’m so high. All I can do is whimper and look at her with puppy dog eyes. I imagine her teasing me for being such a brainless puppy, just doing whatever mistress wants.

#intox kink #mtf dom #ftm puppy #ftm sub #domme mommy #what? I’m definitely not writing this while high and horny……..

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thekatebridgerton · 1 year

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Kate, Sophie, Penelope, and Lucy living together as widows, all in their older age and still are beautiful. Some widowers or some older bachelors do try to make advances on the beautiful Bridgerton Widows but the ghost of their husbands haunt them away.

Okay 👍 I love this take. Just four widows low key terrorizing the ton and making mischief because old ladies get bored when their husbands die. And I like to think that as soon as Benedict died some old gentleman came knocking at Sophie's door immediately. Which immediately summoned Benedict's spirit from the afterlife because HE KNEW IT! he knew the wolves were waiting to steal his Sophie!! He won't let them

And I agree that all the Bridgerton men do that to their wives. Who find it intensely funny

Also I like to add that a Bridgerton wives Golden girls au would be hilarious just because even at 75 our girls would be having the time of their lives. But also knowing that as matrons of the ton, nobody can tell them anything. And they would own it.

"oh that's it We duel at dawn"

"Grandma Kate put the shotgun down! I was just introducing my fiancee"

" And she looks like a hussy, you think I don't know hussies? Let me tell you something Edwin, Back in my day your grandfather..."

Poor grandson Edwin Bridgerton has to usher away his scared fiancee because dowager grandma Kate thinks the girl looks exactly like the opera singer who used to be his grandfather's former mistress and grandma Kate has a shotgun

Meanwhile Anthony's ghost is like ' this is exactly why I had to hold on to the earthly plane'

Penelope and Lucy are more the type who are trying to live out the old lady version of the single life, and the ghost of their husbands won't let them.

Lucy finally has time to finish learning the art of winemaking. And maybe take those pottery classes she was always putting off because Gregory distracted her. Wellz, it turns out that he's still hanging around

Colin loves Penelope at 81, but he really really just stuck around to make sure she loved him back. This is the ghost that does the haunting properly. Waking old lady Penelope up at 2am 'Penelope you still love me right?' 'Colin you're levitating stuff and scaring the whole house!' 'But you still love me?' If he wasn't already dead Penelope would kill him

#bridgerton #golden girls au #Kanthony #polin #Benophie #kate sharma #anthony bridgerton #Penelope Featherington #colin bridgerton

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asimperingswannsong · 7 months

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Abject Devotion

Part 4

Lady Alcina Dimitrescu (RE8)/Hetaera Hofer (OFC)

Summary/Notes/Warnings: Happy Spooky Season. Homicidal loony gets bred by her dragon. Dismemberment as foreplay? Tentacle kink? True Form Sex? Weird shit? 18+ Only Smut

Hetaera spent the next few days in the library reading, painting, and learning piano from Aria while Alcina traveled back and forth mired in meetings. In the evenings, Alcina doted on her. Aside from the occasional excursion to the village for a midnight hunt as Hetaera slept, every moment of Alcina's time in the evenings was devoted to Hetaera.

Hetaera couldn't believe how lucky she was or how happy she felt. She'd found Alcina fascinating from the start but now she was deeply in love with the sexy, intelligent, dominant woman of the castle.

She was grateful for each day with her and for the leisure of sitting and reading or devoting hours to learning a task without the need to work the land, or water the animals, or tend the children. She did miss her younger siblings but not the daily struggle of barely surviving.

One evening Alcina ran late returning from a meeting and Hetaera sat all alone at the massive dining table in the main hall. She stared worriedly at her lover's empty plate opposite her. She tried to eat the food the staff had prepared for her, but she was distressed by Alcina's absence and couldn't focus.

Eventually she'd given up entirely and pushed the plate away. She had Katya guide her downstairs to the foyer where she pulled up a wingback next to the fire with a view out the window of the castle's entry gate and drive.

She waited quietly for Alcina's return. She declined Katya's offer of coffee or brandy. Finally, just before darkness began to fall, she spotted her mistress' carriage. "Oh," she stood excitedly, "there she is Katya!" "Good, my lady. I knew she'd come." "Can you unlock the door?" Katya hesitated.

"I'm not sure I should my lady." "Please, Katya, I just want to greet her as she comes in." "I will unlock it if you promise not to leave the threshold my lady," Katya said reluctantly relenting, "The mistress wouldn't want you to leave the house, I'm sure." "I'll wait in the door. I promise. I'm just so anxious to see her."

"Very well my lady," Katya unlocked the door, "We'll open it when she's through the gate so you can greet her when she arrives." The gate swung open as the carriage approached. Hetaera continued to watch through the window as Katya stood next to the door.

Just as the carriage started through the gate there was an explosion beneath the car and the wheels fell into holes formed by the blast. The horses began to buck excitedly trying to flee. Finally, the reins failed, and they escaped.

Hetaera screamed in terror as she saw a crowd of villagers appear from either side of the disabled carriage. They were holding all manner of weapons shotguns, pikes, pitchforks, clubs, and bow and arrows. The driver fell dead as the first attacker shot him through the eye with an arrow. He immediately reloaded, sitting the next arrow ablaze, and launching it into the side of the abandoned car.

"No!" Hetaera screamed as she saw the car catch fire. Katya heard the explosion and saw her lady becoming frantic. "What's happening?" She rushed toward the window as Hetaera rushed to the door. "No, my lady! It isn't safe!" "I have to go to her!" Hetaera shouted as she threw the door open and ran out. "Please! My lady!" Katya pleaded.

Katya was too late to stop her as Hetaera was out the door and rushing down the drive toward the crowd of angry armed villagers who were threatening her lover. Hetaera saw Alcina step from the burning carriage car only to be immediately attacked by a villager holding a pike. He viciously rammed it into her side, and she bent double roaring in pain.

She quickly turned extending her claws and ripping through his guts. He dropped the pike and fell to her feet, but she didn't have a chance to recover before a second villager shot her in the chest with a blast from his shotgun.

She swiped at him, snarling in anger, and caught the end of the weapon sending it skittering across the ground. Undeterred, he bent down and began picking up rocks and hurling them at her while another villager stabbed her repeatedly from behind with a pitchfork. Her angry screams drowned out the ones coming from Hetaera who continued running toward her.

She had been frightened for her lover at first, but as she came close, she was enraged at the number of people attacking Alcina. Alcina turned, busy trying to disarm the villager attacking her with a pitchfork, causing her to not notice Hetaera's arrival. The man throwing stones saw Alcina's distraction as an opportunity to try and retrieve his shotgun. He too was oblivious to Hetaera approaching behind him.

Hetaera gritted her teeth in rage as she watched him stoop, retrieve the weapon, and point it at her lover. Alcina turned as he screamed, "Die! Demon!" She extended her claws to attack but the man's face exploded as a pike rammed out from the front of it. He'd been impaled from the back of his head. Her mouth dropped in confusion as he fell to the ground twitching and revealing an angry Hetaera standing behind him.

"Draga?" Alcina exclaimed in shock. She started to speak again but Hetaera ran forward retrieving the shotgun and rummaging through the dead man's pockets for shells. She reloaded and ran forward and around her speechless lover making for the three additional villagers coming around the side of the carriage to continue their onslaught.

Alcina reached out finally making contact with the irritating man with the pitchfork. As she slashed his throat open, she regained her faculties of speech. "Draga! No! It isn't safe for you here!" she shouted as she saw the stomach of a man holding a torch burst open from Hetaera's first shot.

Out of fear for the maiden's safety, Alcina shifted into her true form. The second of the three remaining attackers recognized Hetaera, stopping his charge, "Hetaera? What are you doing? We thought you'd died with Baciu?" Hetaera let out an inarticulate scream of fury and shot him in the face with her second shell.

The remaining villager shouted at her, "Are you helping the fiend? What the hell is wrong with you?" He rushed toward her wielding a spiked club but stopped abruptly staring upward with a look of horror on his face. Hetaera was momentarily confused but then she smirked and said, "Wait. Don't tell me. There's a dragon behind my back isn't there?" An unholy screech emanated from Alcina, and the man fell to the ground in fear before frantically scrambling to escape. A large, clawed foot came down from behind Hetaera crushing the man's legs beneath it. He screamed in pain and fear, trapped and writhing beneath the creature.

Hetaera turned slowly around staring up at her lover's true form in awe. The creature grabbed Hetaera gently and lifted her up, reaching out with its tentacles it wrapped her up securely before shifting its focus back to the remaining villager.

The dragon lifted the man into the air with its foot, dangling him from his mangled legs as he pleaded for mercy. She reached out with her arm and tore the man in half. She was so intent on enjoying the slaughter that she failed to notice the way Hetaera regarded her.

She ripped an arm from her prey and tossed it into her enormous maw crunching down happily on it. She was fully engrossed until she was caught off guard by a different sort of pleasurable tingle running down the length of her spine. She was confused until she noticed the girl in the grasp. She was watching her with adoration and open lust and Alcina noticed she'd pressed her core down on one of her tentacles and was busy rolling her hips along its length.

Curious to repeat the pleasurable sensation, Alcina experimentally pressed up helping the girl make better contact. She was rewarded with another wave of pleasure causing her to groan loudly. The girl who was held firmly by half a dozen tentacles wrapping beneath her arms, around her thighs, and belly, arched her back and moaned along with her. Alcina saw her hardened nipples through her thin gown.

The girl made eye contact with her again breathing heavily with lust. "Finish your food my beautiful lady," she whispered. Alcina growled at her and threw the rest of the man into her jaws crunching down on him as she snaked a free tentacle up to Hetaera's panty line. The girl bucked her hips forward encouragingly and Alcina dipped the tentacle inside running it into her folds.

"Of fuck," she mewled dropping her head back again. Alcina found her opening and tentatively pressed the tip inside her. "Oh...yes! more please!" Alcina delved deeper into the girl curious at how her own body was responding.

She felt a slick viscous essence begin to drip from the end of her tentacles. She'd inhabited this form many times since the Cadou, but she'd only ever used it to hunt or to defend herself. She'd never done anything like this before and she was now regretting that oversight. She could feel the girl struggling in her grasp trying to press herself further down onto the tentacle and she happily helped her along pressing further inside her.

"Oh...fuck. So good my lady," the girl whimpered as she writhed and explored within her. She could feel the girl begin to clench down on her and it was an incredible sensation. She'd never realized how sensitive this form could feel. As the girl clenched down tighter and gave way to her climax Alcina felt an orgasm of her own tear through her. The viscous slick from the end of her tentacles increased and she could feel it oozing out inside the girl.

Alcina in her dragon form felt suddenly very possessive. She had an instinctual urge to hide the girl away from everyone else. As she withdrew the tentacle from inside her, she clutched her close to her chest and roared loudly before taking flight. Instead of returning to the castle she flew away into the mountains. She wasn't sure where she was going, she just felt an animalistic need to isolate herself and her lover for protection. Eventually she landed in an open meadow surrounded by enormous mountain peaks on all sides.

She lay her smaller upper body across her much larger lower trunk, keeping the girl wrapped securely within her tentacles. She brought her large leathery wings down and formed a warm cocoon around them as she nuzzled against her lover's neck. "Mmm," the girl hummed happily at her. She turned and kissed Alcina before whispering, "I love you." Alcina produced a purring sound from deep within her chest. It vibrated through Hetaera in a pleasant way. She tucked herself in closely and drifted to sleep in her lover's embrace. Alcina followed soon after.

#my fic #original female character #re8 lady dimitrescu #re8 fic #lady dimitrescu #alcina dimitrescu #resident evil village #what is this #i wasn't even drunk this time

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ourplacetobefree · 8 months

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I just had this realization, I think that Ray's an illegitimate child. With the background we got this episode it totally fits. I think that because Ray says that his mother dated his father and got pregnant and he didn't say anything about a marriage probably means that when she got pregnant his father got her a house and locked her away to hide her away. It could have been a shotgun wedding, too, but that doesn't quite fit in what we've seen so far.

This would explain why she was so depressed and suicidal. She was forced to carry a child she didn't expect and then was locked away, unable to continue her acting career and isolated from society because she was his shameful secret or mistress. Probably trapped by promises that he loved her, but never showing it more than an occasional visit and access to money whenever she wanted. This causing her to resent Ray for existing and neglecting him due to her own declining mental health.

This also explains why Ray doesn't include his father in his emergency contacts or as someone important to him generally. I mean, his father probably had bought a house for Ray and his mother and sent them things and money whenever they wanted, but he was probably not around. Ray, now an adult, knows he can get anything he wants, but not anything more from his father because he's not been claimed as his official child. As long as he stays out of trouble, his relationship with his father is in good standing, but nothing deeper.

#now im sad #poor ray #ray only friends #only friends #only friends the series #only friends the series ep 5

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metalshockfinland · 18 days

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SHOTGUN MISTRESS Release New Single 'Mary Jane' (Feat. Rusty Brown) on May 10th

Since debuting in 2018, Shotgun Mistress has emerged as a force majeure in the rock realm. With the virtuosic Matt Wilcock on guitar, ‘Diamond’ Dave Lee on drums, Ben Curnow on bass, and Glenn Patrick’s magnetic vocals, they’re reshaping the Australian rock landscape. Celebrated for electrifying performances and chart-topping hits such as No Friend Of Mine and Save Me From Myself, the band now…

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#SHOTGUN MISTRESS

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mermaidsirennikita · 2 months

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Ok, so what are your top absolute favorite marriage of convenience books?

So, in terms of actual marriage of convenience books (which I personally view differently from arranged or forced marriage books; I also think a true marriage of convenience book needs it to happen in the first half of the book, like it's the main plot versus something that just kinds happens) my absolute favorites include:

Devil in Winter by Lisa Kleypas--obvious but extremely good

Scandal's Bride--Catriona absolutely doesn't want to marry Richard, but she agrees because she may be pregnant with his baby (and Richard ain't gonna let any of his kids go without legitimacy) at that point and he's basically like "say yes and you and your family can keep your lands :)" which is kinda underhanded but she's equally underhanded, soooo

Possession by Adriana Anders--one of the few modern versions that works for me because it's a celebrity PR marriage; they marry shortly before the book but the whole arc is about it becoming a real marriage after he's discovered on tape with a woman who looks a looot like her (they agreed it being a marriage in name only so it's not actually cheating)

Fiona and the Enigmatic Earl by Grace Callaway--occurs early in the book, and they're both like, perfect aristos on the surface; but they hide their secret professions as spies/vigilantes. And there's voyeurism! It gives Mr. and Mrs. Smith vibes but with less angst.

The Recruit by Monica McCarty--they were being set up for an arranged marriage, but she pretended to be a maid and they hooked up, during which he told her he planned on keeping a mistress while he was married (he intended the mistress to be her lol); she then turns down the arrangement, but they have to have a marriage of convenience anyway when they run into each other a few months later and he realizes she's preeeegnaaaant

Wed to the Wild God by Ruby Dixon--this one is insane because he's a hedonistic god whose presence causes hedonism in humans, so they sleep together IMMEDIATELY; but she's normally brutally practical (and he's dreamy and... not....) so she agrees to a marriage of convenience for protection from his enemies; but oh my gosh, this book has one of the hottest scenes I've EVER read

When a Girl Loves an Earl by Elisa Braden--I mostly love this because SHE traps HIM, and it's only once they're married that she realizes that he's actually Scottish and ends up there; he's determined to not love her due to past trauma, and when he finally realizes he can't avoid it he's sooo sad lol

The Truth About Cads and Dukes by Elisa Braden--he marries her because his brother (non-sexually) compromised her and he's a stern, non-nonsense duke; another one where the hero is determined not to love, but he's obsessed with her hands so he's doomed on that front from the jump

When the Earl Met His Match by Stacy Reid--this is the Scottish one where she comes to him, having only been penpals with him, so that she can protect her unborn baby by another man from her parents; he agrees to marry her and claim the baby for her connections, and it's all extremely romantic with one of my favorite grovels

Wicked in Your Arms by Stacy Reid--the one where he deflowers her in a closet despite hating her, and they then immediately run into his mom in the hallway while she's crying and he's chasing her down... which prompts a shotgun wedding ASAP

A Caribbean Heiress in Paris by Adriana Herrera--I like this one where it's a true marriage of convenience, mutually beneficial, and it's supposed to basically be all business, as they plan on calling it off in a certain time frame... and then it's not

Lush Money by Angelina M. Lopez--another contemporary, but this is the one where he grudgingly agrees to marry her because he's the prince of a tiny country that needs a financial bailout from her, a billionaire; and she agrees to do it because she wants him to father her child lmao

The Viscount and The Vixen by Lorraine Heath--he marries her because she answered an ad for a wife from his crazy old dad, and he believes she's a con artist; so naturally he points out that the ad (which also promised a major payout if she doesn't get a husband) only said that the husband had to be a lord, not that it had to be his dad, so HE SHALL MARRY HER CHECK AND MATE. What he doesn't know is that she actually answered the ad because she's pregnant and trying to escape the father, so she feels very conflicted as they fall in looove.

Lord of Darkness by Elizabeth Hoyt--in this one they're kinda dealing with the aftereffects of the marriage, which happened because her brother sorta blackmailed the guy into marrying her because she was pregnant out of wedlock and the father died. Then she miscarried right after the wedding and went to live separately from the hero, but she's back in town DEMANDING that he put a baby in her (little does she know, he's a masked vigilante by night and a nerdy widower by day)

The Duchess Deal by Tessa Dare--the classic "he's a scarred duke whose fiancee bails on him, and she made the wedding dress and shows up wearing it demanding payment, so naturally he's like fine I need an heir let's get married instead"

The Duke I Tempted by Scarlett Peckham--the hero and heroine enter into a fairly conventional marriage of convenience, but she doesn't realize that he actually likes to submit

#romance novel blogging #romance novels #book recs

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myhauntedsalem · 6 months

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6 Dark Places Aleister Crowley Performed His Particular Brand of Magick

Born in the late 1870s, England, Aleister Crowley was one of the great characters of the 20th century—a poet, a magician, a journalist, an alchemist, a philosopher, a spy, a self-affirmed drug fiend, and a sex addict. He was also known as “The Great Beast” and the “wickedest man in the world.” He played a major role in the creation of alternate religions like Wicca, the A∴A∴, and the Ordo Templi Orientis, and he founded the Order of Thelema, a semi-Satanic cult whose famous edict was “do what thou wilt.”

Crowley is to the occult as Tolkien is to fantasy—he set the stage that everyone else plays in. Basically, if you’re dabbling in things dark and dastardly, Aleister was probably there first.

In all of his doings, Crowley traveled a lot. He pursued exploits in Egypt, India, the Far East, Australia, all over Europe and North America, dotting the map with sex magick and weird stunts. Here are a six places in the Atlas where the infamous occultist left his mark.

1. 36 Blythe Road

LONDON, ENGLAND

Though he was interested in the occult from childhood, Crowley’s first foray into organized magic (or “magick,” as he preferred to spell it) was with the Hermetic Order of the Golden Dawn. Well liked by its co-founder, Samuel Liddell MacGregor Mathers, Crowley advanced in the ranks very quickly. However, not everyone was a fan. The London chapter, which had already found faults in Mathers’ leadership, particularly disavowed him for the eccentric, bisexual Crowley. This caused a decisive rift between two factions of the Order, but Mathers wasn’t ready to concede his leadership.

In 1900, while the poet and London chapter leader W. B. Yeats was heading a meeting, he was attacked by an “astral siege” from none other than Aleister Crowley. Crowley, wearing a black Osiris mask and a kilt, and his mistress burst into the temple, casting spells and brandishing daggers. They intended to take the temple for Mathers’, but were unsuccessful. The police came, the scuffle went to court, and the London chapter of the Golden Dawn won (as they paid the rent on the space). Now the nondescript George’s Cafe resides in the former site of the secret society’s temple, with no indication of its former life.

2. Boleskine House

INVERNESS, SCOTLAND

Boleskine House was steeped in darkness long before Crowley moved in. The manor is allegedly built atop the ruins of a 10th century church that burnt to the ground during a service, killing all the congregants inside. Crowley bought Boleskine House to seclude himself and perform magic from The Book of Sacred Magic of Abramelin the Mage. It was during this period that Crowley became famous for his occultism and black magic, both around the Scotland and later, the world. Sometime during this period Mathers called Crowley to Paris. He left without dispelling the “12 Kings and Dukes of Hell” he had summoned, and many locals blame the house’s unlucky history on evil spirits left behind.

First, Crowley’s housekeeper’s two children died mysteriously and abruptly. Crowley also bragged that one employee of the estate who had long abstained from alcohol got drunk and attempted to murder his entire family. After the house had changed hands, it still wasn’t free of dark energy. In 1965, the army major who owned the house committed suicide by shotgun. The next owner, Led Zeppelin’s Jimmy Page, spent very little time at the estate, instead bequeathing it to a friend who didn’t mind the unexplained creaks, groans, and various ghostly apparitions, but was bothered by the Crowley and Page fans who frequently attempted to break into the house and defile the grounds. Later owners dismissed any notions of hauntings or witchcraft at the house, but in 2015, the residents returned from a shopping trip to find the house completely in flames.

3. Crowley’s Magickal Retirement

HEBRON, NEW HAMPSHIRE

In 1916, Crowley spent four months at the home of renowned medium Evangeline Adams in what he called a “magickal retirement.” This didn’t mean taking a break from cocaine, heroin, sex magick, and prolonged rituals. Quite the opposite in fact. In Hebron, Crowley doubled down and did a great deal of writing, poetry and magical instruction alike. He was even a ghost writer on several of Adams’ books of astrology.

4. Esopus Island

HYDE PARK, NEW YORK

In another magickal retreat, Crowley spent 40 days and 40 nights (a la Jesus Christ) on a tiny island in the Hudson River. His mission was translating the Tao Te Ching, a 4th century Chinese philosophical text. He hadn’t brought much food but had packed plenty of red paint, and also put himself to work painting Thelemic graffiti on the island’s rocks. Curious families watching the bald, robed man on the island from the banks of the Hudson began bringing him rations. He was also visited by fans and artists, who brought him food, drugs, and company.

Much later Crowley reported experiencing visions of his past lives during his stay on Esopus Island, all of which were somehow very influential figures. His former selves included legendary Taoist Ge Xuan, Renaissance Pope Alexander VI, alchemist Alessandro Cagliostro, and the magician Eliphas Levi. Today, the island is open to the public so long as they can reach it by boat. There are even camping amenities for those who wish to follow in the footsteps of the infamous occultist.

5. Boca do Inferno

CASCAIS, PORTUGAL

Any eccentric worth his salt has to fake his own death at least once. When visiting Portugal in 1930 and feeling annoyed by his current mistress, Crowley gave appearance he had committed suicide at the Boca de Inferno (“Mouth of Hell”) caves. His friend, poet Fernando Pessoa handed Crowley’s suicide note to newspapers, helpfully explaining the magical symbols and translating the mangled Portuguese to police and media alike. Three weeks later, Crowley reappeared at the opening of an exhibition of his works in a Berlin gallery, suggesting this whole affair was more publicity stunt than anything else. Today, there is a small white plaque mounted on the rock provides the text of Crowley’s note: “Não Posso Viver Sem Ti. A outra ‘Boca De Infierno’ apanhar-me-á não será tão quente como a tua,” which translates roughly to “Can’t live without you. The other mouth of hell that will catch me won’t be as hot as yours.” That might be touching if any of it were genuine.

6. The Abbey of Thelema

CEFALÙ, ITALY

Crowley’s magickal career came to its peak in a little Sicilian town. For a small amount of money, he, his two lovers, their small children, and miscellaneous followers moved into one story house facing the Mediterranean sea. They called it the Abbey of Thelema. The common room was dedicated to ritual practices and held a scarlet “magick” circle marked with the sign of the major Thelemic deities. Crowley’s own bedroom, labeled by himself as “la chambre des cauchemars” (or “the room of nightmares”) was entirely hand-painted by the occultist with explicitly erotic frescos, hermaphroditic goblins, and vividly colored monsters. This private room was used for specific night initiations involving psychoactive drugs which gave terrifying cinematic life to this Bosch-like vision of hellish debauchery.

Crowley considered his temple a school of magick, and gave it an appropriately collegiate motto: “Collegium ad Spiritum Sanctum”—”A College towards the Holy Spirit.” The Cefalù period was one of the most prolific and happy of his life, even as he suffered from drug addiction and had to write the scandalous Diary of a Drug Fiend to finance his community. The growing interest in dark magic and the occult provided him with an ample student body (pun intended). But in 1922, the experience in monasticism ended when Raoul Loveday, a young disciple, tragically died from typhoid fever contracted from drinking contaminated spring water, though Loveday’s wife maintained it was from drinking cat’s blood.

Crowley and his people were evicted by Mussolini’s regime in 1923. The dictator had no sympathy for pornographic art or mysticism. Once the Abbey closed, the villagers whitewashed the murals, which they somewhat correctly saw as demonic. This erased much of the history and work of Crowley in Cefalù. The Abbey of Thelema is still there, a hidden monument of mysterious, magickal decay.

#6 Dark Places Aleister Crowley Performed His Particular Brand of Magick #aliester crowley #ghost and hauntings #paranormal #ghost and spirits #haunted locations #myhauntedsalem #haunted salem

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nightingaelic · 4 months

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YOOO I didn’t know you had fallout ocs tell me abt them. Who are their companions what’re their roles etc

Ah, what the hell.

My Lone Wanderer is Paladin Elizabeth Titus, who spent her early 20s trying to help the Capital Wasteland by completing her father's dream of Project Purity and bringing the might of the Brotherhood of Steel to those who most need it. She's been romantically connected to Amata Almodovar, Sarah Lyons, and Point Lookout's Nadine, and she's on good terms with Butch DeLoria, Star Paladin Cross, Fawkes, and a liberated Clover. Post-game, she has become estranged from the Brotherhood of Steel, and she's now doing work with the Abolitionists and Reilly's Rangers despite her activities being a topic of much speculation throughout the Capital Wasteland. She is a field medic and a pilot, she wields heavy weaponry with finesse, and she tends to keep everyone at arm's length in the belief that her own reputation will eventually harm them.

My Sole Survivor is Murphy Olson Kelly, thawed pre-war lawyer who made her way through the Railroad and the Brotherhood before finally settling with the Minutemen to find her son, then bring down the Institute. She's been romantically connected to Mayor John Hancock, Elder Arthur Maxson, and Robert Joseph MacCready, and she considers the rest of the companions close friends. She is a darling of the Commonwealth and is on good terms with nearly everyone besides the Institute, fundamentalist Brotherhood members, and skeptical Railroad agents. She relies on her charisma, persuasiveness, and twin plasma pistols to get by, and she is chock-full of survivor's guilt that sometimes manifests as psyker abilities, but more often results in her getting involved in every problem she finds.

My Courier Six is Fox, a desert enigma who seized New Vegas and the Hoover Dam as her own in an attempt to crush the Legion and fend off the New California Republic. She's been romantically connected to Benny Gecko, Rose of Sharon Cassidy, Red Lucy, The King, Ulysses, Beatrix Russell, and Craig Boone, and she is on good-to-mixed terms with the companions not because of her perceived reputation as a heartbreaker, but because of her inability to stand still and commit. She is generally liked, if a little feared, by the Mojave Wasteland, and she is considered a threat by Caesar's Legion and the NCR, albeit one that will eventually move on in the pursuit of something new. Fox follows whatever trail she is inclined to at the moment, and she wards off most dangers with shotgun blasts. It's unknown whether she still has her memories from before Goodsprings.

My Vault 76 Dweller is Dolores, the daughter of a wartime photographer and a veterinarian who took up residence in the Savage Divide in an abandoned train station that she turned into a home and renowned moonshine distillery. She's connected primarily to Foundation, but she's on good terms with the Crater, the Blue Ridge Caravan Company, and the Responders because everyone in Appalachia loves liquor. Her weapon of choice is a railway rifle.

My other Vault 76 Dweller is Rosalyn, whose last act before the bombs fell was making sure her mob-connected husband didn't make it to the vault in time. She spent some time with Rose and the raiders of the Crater, but recently became fascinated with the ill-fated Order of Mysteries and has been trying to restart the group. She primarily uses the Voice of Set and the Blade of Bastet in combat, but she does occasionally bust out the silver submachine gun of the Mistress's paramour.

With the exception of Rosalyn, my OCs have all made it onto my Archive of Our Own account in some form. Murphy and Elizabeth cross paths in my long-running post-game Fallout 4 series; Fox appeared in a one-off prompt fic that explores her relationship with Boone; and Dolores underwent a name change for some explicit encounters in Appalachia.

#fallout #fallout ocs #lone wanderer elizabeth #sole survivor murphy #courier fox #vault dweller dolores #vault dweller rosalyn

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