#you have to make them less scary and mysterious | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

beneatheaven · 6 months

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masked sex with beomgyu

lowercase intended, 1,841 words, haven’t proof read

smut under cut, minors do not interact

you weren't one for parties. you would have rather been in your dorm studying or under your covers sleeping. but your friends insisted on you going out to this halloween party. dress up, sexy for once, and let loose. you gave in, because the idea of dressing up for one night of the year, as something you aren't, sounded fun.

just the cliche, out of your comfy modest clothes that covered you up. into a body fitting slim dress. with every step it wanted to ride up your thighs, and it made your boobs look good. nothing something you would ever be seen wearing..thanks to your friends for finding this for you. being dressed as the typical college angel, throwing on some wings and getting your makeup and hair done cutely.

lastly you decided to wear a mask to cover the top half of your face, with the prettiest beading. maybe if no one knew who was under the mask, you would be more confident with your actions..

still really nervous when you arrived to the party. at one of the many halloween college parties at the handful of frat houses. you looked so hot though, so you needed to feel hot. you and your friends doing a round of shots before doing anything. guys started to look at you, noticing your curves, feeling less tense now, you told your friends you were going to look for someone to dance with. they cheered for your new found confidence as you walked away.

you knew only a few people at this party, and some were familiar faces. then of course.. so many of them in costume you could either not see their face too well or had no idea who they were. although everyone is here to look hot, get drunk, and have fun.

turning around to go look somewhere else, you bumped into someone. "oh i'm sorry about that." he turned around to get a look at you. he was in a mask similar to yours, except he had fake blood splattered on it and on his face. you looked down to see he had some more on his open button up and blazer. as well on his chest that was peaking through.

"no worries you're good." "did i scare you?" he was so tall and his lips were so pretty. "no no, you don't look scary, you look pretty hot." his words making your skin jump a little. "i could say the same about you, what are you supposed to be a psycho killer?" reaching your hand out to play with the buttons on his shirt were the fake blood stains were. "yea, i left my axe somewhere but i think it's long gone." he's checking you out and how pretty you looked under the party lighting. even if he can't see you because of the mask.

"but i wanted to wear a mask because i'm not really into these things. if you saw what i looked like i think you would understand." he didn't mind your hands on his chest. "i don't know, you look pretty hot right now. who's to say you aren't like this all the time " you don't understand how you're talking like this so easily. "but i like the mask, makes you more mysterious." he laughs lightly, smirking at you. god he's so fucking hot already.

"guess you like me more than just for my scary psycho killer costume." he tries to pull you in closer to him. "maybe i do, come chase me and find out." stepping back from him. "serious, want me to chase you?" nodding at him. "okay, let's do it, better run fast."

starting to push through the crowd of people, the sound of your heels clicking against the hard floors, it was easy to follow you. at some point he saw you enter into a more secluded area of the frat house. when you entered it looked like a room they used for storage space. lots of closets and boxes everywhere. deciding to hide inside a closet, you could hear the loud music along with the sound of your heart racing. this was so fun for you.

hearing the door open following his voice. "hmm i could almost feel how scared you are." you could hear his voice a lot more clear. it was deep and sultry. he was looking around the room still until he stood in front of the closet you were hiding in. "does this turn you on? being chased by a masked stranger?" honestly yes it does, he's making you rub your thighs. trying to help that aching feeling he's giving you. "now, come out for me." he says as he opened the closet doors open. doing a playful dramatic scream for him. "so cute, how was that?" his hands finding your waist, pulling you out the closet to pin you against the wall.

"perfect, so turned on now." resting your hands on his chest leaning your lips closer to his. he sensing the tension, leaning into you and sharing a deep kiss with you. one of your hands finding its way to the back of his neck, kissing him harder, making the kiss messy. your roughness was making him moan into your mouth. his deep moans making you wetter by the minute. you don't want to hear the end of it.

he broke the kiss, making you whine, missing the feeling of his lips against yours. "so hot and sexy, wore this short dress to get fucked didn't you." heavy breathing trying to catch you breathing nodding at him. your hands going up this face, touching his mask. "god your body is so hot." his hands exploring your body, your focus still being o his face, you could see the hunger in his eyes. "off." chuckling lightly at how whiny you sound. "no not yet pretty. let me see more of you first." trusting his words, you let him continue to explore you.

his left hand holding onto your face while his right hand finds its way between your thighs. "here let me put my thumb in your mouth." parting your lips for him letting him slip his thumb inside. moaning softly for him. "such a good listener, sweet girl." his fingers pushing your panties to the side, gliding his fingers up and down your core teasing you. inserting a finger inside, making you yelp. his left going down to your waist to keep you steady.

"fuck, you're so sexy like this, yea you like this don't you? a stranger fucking his fingers into you?" "god yes yes, please." digging your fingers into his shoulders. he just knew how to talk to you.. "yea you wouldn't want me if you knew what i looked like." "n-not true, ohh please don't stop." inserting a second finger, he kept his fast movements inside you, his lips finding your neck and collarbones, covering your skin in wet sloppy kisses and a hickey here or there.

he was so alluring, looking up at you as he kissed your skin. getting lost in his stare, such pretty eyes he had. "let me see you." taking your chance, lifting the mask off his face..

you couldn't believe it, one of the hottest frat guy in your class, choi beomgyu, was fingering you and found you hot. "like what you see?" "mhmm.." pulling him up into a kiss. hands holding onto his face so he wouldn't pull away too soon but be broke the kiss to look right at you and say "now it's your turn pretty."

lifting up the mask with one hand, as his fingers stopped inside you. a small quiet whine left your lips as he saw your entire face. "of course, girls like you are so freaky." his fingers thrusting inside you again. so glad he found you hot after knowing who you really are. "b-beomgyu please-" "yea say my name like that, cream on my fingers baby."

after a couple more seconds, he took his fingers out of you. licking his fingers clean of your juices. "alright come on, lift that dress up a little more for me." as if your dress hasn't completely ridden up your thighs by now. hearing the sound of his belt and pants ruffling as he pulls them down. "here lift your leg up, yea yea around my waist." you were so wet, inserting his cock in you was a breeze.

holding onto his shoulders, as he held onto your waist to help his fast thrust. "god this costume was made to get fucked in, wasn't it?" his words making you moan, turning you on so much. there's just no way he had you like this right now. "yes, for you, j-just for you." earning a rough groan from him, cutest quiet girl in his class, was losing it all for him.

he looked so hot, his long hair faming his face perfectly. the dark lighting, with the help of the moon peaking through the blinds, you found beauty in everything about him. his lips finding yours again, neither of you would get tired of each others taste.

his thrust getting harder now, making you yelp breaking the kiss and dig your nails into his shoulders. "you like it rough don't you?" "god yes." pulling out of you until it was just the tip, just to thrust his entire length roughly. you could feel how thick he was inside you, every vein and bump, he was so perfect. "take my big cock, take it slut."

he knew how to get you going. continuously thrusting, while kissing your neck, hickeys in places you're going to have trouble covering up later. but you didn't care, you have him right now. "you close?" nodding with a whine escaping your lips. bitting down your lower lip as his thumb comes down finding your clit to rub it.

you came with a loud moan of his name, "yea scream for me, no one can hear you." getting louder and he helped ride out your high. "ohhh i'm cumming baby." feeling his seed inside you. it all just felt so good. when he pulled out of you, both of you moaned, at the feeling and sight of his cum dripping out of you, down your legs.

he made you so weak you lost your balance. "hey hey i got you." his hold on you made you feel so warm. after all that he still cared. thanking him for his sweet action. "yea, did you like that? because.. i did." still catching his breathe while he looks at you, the way your eyes shine at his words. "i did, i really did beomgyu. i wouldn't have expected this to happen if i'm being honest." getting shy under his gaze.

"me either, but i just didn't know how to approach you before. but please, after this let me take you out on a proper date." flashing a smile at you, he was so pretty. "i would love that beomgyu."

#txt smut #txt hard hours #txt imagines #txt scenarios #txt x reader #beomgyu smut #beomgyu hard hours #beomgyu imagines #beomgyu x reader #beomgyu scenarios

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freemansgirl · 6 months

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“get naked, i got a plan.”

pairing: amber freeman x fem reader

genre: smut

summary: reader confides in amber to make her mask & costume kink sex fantasy come true.

words: 4.6k (enjoy the details 🙈)

warnings: knife kink (ambs fucks you w her knife handle, cuts your tits with it, and holds it against your neck), mask kink, degradation kink (use of “slut”), praise kink, reader gets her tits sucked, amber talks abt wanting to kill men for you, cowgirl position (you’re riding her), bottom!amber.

a/n: halloween special for you guys, happy halloween 🖤

on this exciting halloween night, the air was charged with a unique blend of spooky anticipation and joyful excitement. in order to live it up this amazing, scary holiday, what better way is there to do that other than partying at your girlfriend’s place?

it was the perfect opportunity since amber’s parents were currently gone for the night, which gave her the idea to throw the party while having you help her host it, it being the two of you’s idea. amber always knew how to throw the best parties, the guests and her friends always had the best time of their lives when participating at them. you and her always had a lot of fun such as dancing together (mainly you dance on her) and getting drunk together for shits and giggles.

when you had hit some liquor in your system, you found yourself being really touchy feely with your girlfriend and you wanted her and only her right now. she was constantly whispering sweet nothings in your ear while you grinded your hips against hers to the rhythm of the beat. your ass underneath the black tutu of your witch costume just pressing against amber’s dick made her get so hard. she wanted you so bad that she shamelessly started to attempt rubbing her finger against your clothed, wet pussy under your tutu at one point. she could care less knowing majority of these drunk or/and high teenagers weren’t paying attention to anything around them.

she just couldn’t help herself at all, you were too hot for her to keep her hands to herself. it’s not like you didn’t mind either when both of you were infatuated with just how hot the other looked in their costume, so this was okay. your enchanting, sexy black witch costume matched perfectly with her intimidating, mysterious ghostface costume. amber thought you looked so hot in it, the wide-brimmed hat, your black t shirt exposing your bust perfectly, your thighs looking sexy in your mesh black, thigh high socks, and the way your black tutu bounced everytime you walked, made you looked so good.

usually, you’d tell amber to stop teasing you because “people are looking” but she was wearing a ghostface costume, anonymous to anyone so you weren’t too worried. not to mention, it was pretty packed in this party so no one could really see you guys getting dirty on the dance floor. your girlfriend was really jealous and couldn’t help but let her possessiveness take over. she caught so many prying, inappropriate eyes dawning down on you, watching your every move. she hated seeing all of those people look at what was hers, which would cause her to glare at them or make threatening gestures (the main one being she’d drag her index finger across her neck to mock a “knife slicing throat” emote) towards them behind your back.

you had this sudden burst of confidence due to the liquor consumption, enjoying all of the attention that amber have gave you when you were moaning so subtly. thank god the music was so loud that no one could hear all of the cute, lewd noises that you released for your girlfriend. as amber understood your needs, she wanted to kick everyone out of the party so it was only just you two.

as the clock hit midnight, you guys began to thank everyone for coming out to this party and wished everyone a good night. the atmosphere was now a blend of playfulness and excitement as the two of you started to go up to amber’s room, ready to fuck. you guys will have to clean up the mess of the party later, needs and wants always come first. seeing all of the costumed guest leave brought you guys a sense of intimacy leading up to a deep, lustful makeout session.

“finally, some alone time, am i right?” amber smiled, cupping your cheeks. she starts to pull the chin of the ghostface mask upwards, moving it back some so she could lean in for a kiss. there was a mischievous gleam in his own eyes, displaying her own growing excitement while she looked at how pretty you looked. you start to nod, smiling when you wrap your arms around her neck as your lips meet her own in what starts off as a soft, lingering kiss. the two of you closed your eyes, feeling lost in each other’s embrace.

then, the kiss deepened as it began to feel intense and hungrier, while amber’s free hand gropped your soft, bare ass right under the tutu like she was doing earlier. you let out a gasp which causes her to explore deeper inside of your mouth, dominating the kiss and she starts to push you towards her bed. the two of you pulled back from the kiss, your eyes meeting with lust and satisfaction from this make out session. there was a share of panting between you two.

“you are so sexy, baby. maybe, you really are a witch with the way you got me in a trance when i see you.” amber complimented you, studying your beautiful features and also your witch outfit. she started to hover on top of your body, planting small kisses over your neck to chest. she was thankful that the party was over so she can just have some one on one time with her girl. the make out session was very much needed, considering the two of you couldn’t keep your hands off of each other the whole night.

“you think that’s a trance? you haven’t seen nothing, yet. get naked, i got a plan.” you whispered seductively, looking up at the girl dressed in the ghostface costume. amber pulled away with a pretty shocked expression on her face when hearing you say this, wondering what plan is there. “and what plan is that, love?” she smirked at you, raising a brow to see what is there to come out of your mouth.

you start to sit up, using your elbows to prop you up so you’re sitting up on the bed properly to face your girlfriend. you wanted to have a proper conversation here, serious and all, no bullshit. the only issue is… how could you tell your girlfriend that you wanted her to fuck you in her ghostface costume? your liquor courage from earlier wasn’t here to help you out, it was you, the real, sobered you. your girlfriend studied your features, she can tell you looked worried and she didn’t understand why the sudden mood change. she wouldn’t mind stopping and just going to sleep with you to show how much of a respectful, caring girlfriend she is.

“what’s wrong, (your name)? if something’s bothering you, we can stop.”

your girlfriend rubbed your shoulder with a reassuring look on her face, to show how much she cares about your consent and well-being. as a result of this, you give her a sweet smile and shake your head at her.

“no, it’s not that… lately i…” you trailed off, no longer looking at your girlfriend and you’re looking down at the ground now, out of shyness, before looking back up at amber. “i been wanting to try new things in sex with you, if that’s okay? the sex with you is always amazing, don’t get me wrong, ambs. i just.. wanna spice things up. so with that being said, could you fuck me in your ghostface costume? since it fits the halloween spirit and all….?”

your eyes started to turn into big, doe ones as you stared into her dazed, dark brown ones while she’s processing the information you just told her. you innocently bat your eyes at her, hoping it would convince her. with eyes like yours, how could she even say no? the way your girlfriend stared at you with her eyes now suddenly shocked at this information you told her, worried you. should you just take back everything you said now?

“wait—what?”

these are the words amber could only respond with right now. she was really shocked to hear you even ask for such a request. she wasn’t complaining, hell, she was turned on by the fact that you even asked! she would’ve never thought in a million years that you would ask her to fuck you in her ghostface costume. especially considering that you hated when she would playfully prank you when she would jump out in her costume around her house or the fact that she would joke about fucking you in her ghostface costume once you found out she was ghostface. of course, she never did fuck you as ghostface because she knew how much you hated that costume and she also doesn’t want to hear you complaining about the suit being a turn off as she fucks you.

at first, you disapproved of her being ghostface for self explanatory reasons but you had no choice but to stay with her. knowing amber, she wasn’t gonna let you out of her sight that easily due to her overbearing possessive nature. over time, you had no choice but to accept this but a part of you was… actually turned on by her costume and mask the more you seen her wear the costume. at this point, you couldn’t stop your mask kink from forming and turning into something more, you accepted it.

“you heard me, ambs. cmon, stop playing dumb before i change my mind.” you sighed, a frown was drawn on your lips while you crossed your arms. there was a hint of blush that came across your skin, showing that you felt embarrassed and flustered for even bringing up the suggestion to her. you started to turn away from her but she grabs you by your body and makes you turn back to her.

“no, baby, don’t hide yourself from me. don’t worry, i’m not complaining, it’s just i didn’t know how much of a freak in the sheets my girlfriend was.” amber spoke, lightly laughing before a smirk was plastered to her face. she was right, yes you were definitely freaky, but not this freaky that it caused her shock. there was a blush on your face when she called you a freak. honestly, she loved this so much, seeing you all flustered and shy asking her to fuck you in her costume. at the sound of her words, you feel yourself getting really excited because you’re getting what it is that you asked for.

that’s when she started to actually undress herself underneath the black ghostface robe, taking off her jeans and boots so she can kick them to the side. she moves onto pulling the robe over her head, so she can remove the black t-shirt and her bra she was wearing now. she pulls down her boxers, her 8 inch dick was showing. after she’s fully undressed, she puts her robe back on and pulls her mask over head, covering her face.

at the sight of her getting fully invested into this ghostface costume, you felt your panties dampen with a moist liquid. you were already wet from earlier when amber was touching you underneath your tutu, but damn you just got even wetter for her. before your wanted to get to the actual fucking, she wanted to do some foreplay. she takes out a shiny, metal knife from the pocket of her ghostface costume and walks towards you.

“spread your legs, love.” amber demanded, her eyes narrowing from behind the eyeholes of her mask to look at your very innocent, curious eyes watching her. you looked so nervous and scared of her with that knife in her hand, wondering what she was planning to do, it was just too cute. you slowly spread your legs for her, inviting amber to come and take you on the bed right here and there.

“i’m going take real good care of you, baby. i’m not going to hurt you… yet, that is.” she reassured, hovering her body right on top of you like it was earlier. her pale hands grabbed your black, fluffy tutu to push it down to your ankles so it wasn’t in the way as she works on you. amber took her knife and turned the blade to her, so the handle was facing the entrance of your slick, clothed pussy. her leathered gloves moved your underwear to the side, so it was just your pussy on display.

she pressed the handle right against your slick fold, rubbing it against your the folds of your vagina. you began to let out a groan at how the feel of the handle going up and down against your vagina, it felt so good. when amber saw how your wetness grazed over the knife’s handle, she let out a pleased sigh at how wet you are. “so wet for me as always, you’re so good to me, baby. now let me return the favor tonight.” the black haired girl cooed, while running her left hand all over your thighs as the right hand kept moving the handle on your clit.

the sensation of the handle sliding right inside of your wet folds was enough to cause you to whine, you felt your back start to arch slightly. you grabbed onto amber’s left hand for support and something to grab onto. your breath started to shake when you felt that handle enter inside of you, your mouth turned into an “o” shape.

“fuck, amber…” you groaned, watching her press the handle inside of you deeper. just as soon as things were getting really good, she pulled out the handle abruptly. you looked at her with the most confused look on your face, unsure of why she stopped. “now, sweetheart, if you’re gonna let me fuck you with this costume on, at least use the correct name when i’m fucking you.”

you didn’t understand what she meant by this, because this was your first time letting her fuck you with the costume on. that’s when it hit you, you immediately understood what she meant by her sentence.

“ghostface?”

“nailed it, baby.”

when she heard you called her ghostface, her dick got harder than it already was. hearing you say it so innocently made her want to fuck you. however, she can wait after shes done fucking you with the handle of the knife. she stuck the handle right back into your entrance, picking back up on where the two of you just started. she started to put it right back in there, pushing the handle slowly, taking her time with you so you can adjust.

you let out a wince, trying to get back into feeling the handle inside of you. amber’s left hand moved from holding your thigh to grasping your waist and gave it a small squeeze as a nonverbal cue to stay put. she didn’t want you to move at all because she wanted you to enjoy yourself while she fucked you with this knife. your girlfriend started to speed up her pace, causing you to moan a lot.

if it wasn’t for the ghostface mask, you would be able to see the look on your girlfriend’s face. she was getting so turned on through her lustful, hungry eyes watching you moan all over her knife. that same knife that she used to attack and murder many people in woodsboro, some of them being you and amber’s mutual friends. the same knife that she used to protect you from any creeps trying to mess with you. she had so much blood spilled onto this knife. this was the knife that was the talk of the town, it put so much fear into citizen’s hearts.

you had no business fucking a serial killer, it was wrong and you knew that but you couldn’t help yourself. the thought was starting to turn you on so much, you loved the taboo aspect that came with this. unfortunately, it was a guilty pleasure. your thoughts were being clouded as the knife handle went in and out of your clit, each thrust getting faster, brutal, and harder. your hips were arching as your eyes rolled back into your head, the pleasure was taking over your body.

“good girl, fucking yourself all over my knife. this is what i like to see.” amber’s muffled voice from behind her ghostface mask filled the room, watching you take her knife in. you start to feel your body rise and rise, you can feel yourself getting stimulated down there. a deep, heavy groan escaped your lips when you felt yourself getting close.

“more, ghostface, more! i’m so close! keep going!” you cried out, grabbing onto amber’s left arm even harder when you kept watching her. taking notice of your features scrunching up from the pleasure, she started to thrust the knife even more into you. you started to jerk your body a lot, once your orgasm was approaching. you felt yourself shiver, finishing all over her knife handle. amber pulled the knife out of you, throwing it to the side for now.

she allowed you to catch your breath for a couple of minutes, watching you pant from her hard work of fucking you with the edge of her knife handle. she started to caress the right cheek of your face, rubbing her thumb on it so gently. she lifted up her ghostface mask to plant a kiss to your forehead. “you did so good for me… but i know you’re gonna do even better when i fuck the shit out of you. time for the grand finale, babe.”

there was a smirk plastered on her beautiful, pale features when she stared down at your figure. too bad you couldn’t admire her forever because she pulled the mask right back on, to get back into character. the glistening, shiny knife that she threw away to side was now back into her hands again. the blade of the knife was pressed into the skin of your cheek as it trailed down to your black t-shirt, causing you to let out soft, pretty whimpers here and there for her. “aw… baby, you’re so cute when you whimper for me.” your lover laughed softly, giving you a fake pout to pretend she felt bad about the blade making you whimper.

the knife stopped at the right cup of your bra, her blade poking your right boob. she licked her lips at just how nice and perfect your boobs were sitting up in your black t-shirt. she loved seeing the breastbone of your breasts, the peak of side boobs sticking out from each boob. too bad she was going to ruin your shirt so she can see those pretty titties of yours. “god, i am so lucky to be blessed with the best set of boobs i ever seen in my life. you’re my everything, babe.” she sighed lovingly, before running her blade on the fabric of your shirt, slicing it in half to reveal your beautiful black bra that matched your lacey black panties.

as much as you wanted to complain about your girlfriend cutting off your shirt, you rather save it for after the sex because you wanted her to perform whatever acts were to come next on your boobs. she taps your bra strap with the tip of her knife, giving you a look. “go on, princess, take off your bra for me.”

with that command being said, you started to unclasp your bra in the back letting it drop down to the ground. your bare boobs were now in front of amber, only for her to see. “so pretty, all for me and only me. been wanting to suck on these, the moment i saw all of those losers looking at what belongs to me.” she whispered, fondling each of your breasts, the leather fabric on her hands groping all over your soft boob tissue.

“mhmm, baby. you’re the only one that gets to see me like this.” you gasped at how her leather fabric felt against your body. you started to touch her mask with your thumb, rubbing it in a caressing manner. she takes the knife in her hand and holds right in front of your face, the blade is an inch away from your eyes.

“now, see this knife, right here, darling?”

you nodded at her, eyeing her to see what else she was about to say. “i wanted to slice off every single guy’s head that even fucking took a look at you. i was so close to slitting their fucking throats and placing their lifeless heads on the dresser so they could watch me fuck the shit out of you.” she advised, clenching the knife handle, her knuckles were getting pale out of the jealousy that was being shown through her behavior. you felt yourself getting so hot and bothered when she said that, you couldn’t fight your feelings. you loved it when she showed her possessiveness and jealousy, it was hot when she wanted to kill for you.

amber pressed the knife onto the areola of your right breast, gently dragging it down so it could create a scar. there was some winces of pain that came out when you watched her do this. she lifted up her ghostface mask, so you could only see her mouth but not her whole face. she began sucking on the scar and consuming the blood that was oozing from it while she massaged your left nipple to make you feel better. the way how her tongue was circling and swirling all over your scar made you breathe heavily, it all felt so good because it didn’t hurt as much anymore.

“i always knew your blood would taste good, baby.” amber pulled away, a smirk on her face, pleased with the tangy, sweet taste of your blood. she went to work on your left breast, kissing all over then putting her mouth on it since it was neglected earlier. she gave a nice, long lick to your nipple which caused you to shudder at how wet your left nipple suddenly felt. her licks started to change speed, each one was getting faster while she sucked on it. you grabbed her by the back of her ghostface costume hood so you can push her more into you. after making you moan so many times from the affection, amber was now finished from sucking off your boobs causing her to stop.

she took a good look at your boobs again, admiring just how sexy they are. they were definitely sexy alright, but they’d be even sexier bouncing when you ride her. at the thought of that, amber smirked, there was some excitement behind her eyes at her idea. she put her mask over her head again before patting your ass lightly with the blade of her knife. “get up, i wanna see you ride my dick right fucking now.”

you immediately listened to your girlfriend’s words as the two of you swapped spots. the black haired girl leaned her body against the bed frame, while she watched you across from her. amber grabbed you roughly by your thighs, so you were pulled towards her legs. she started to lift up the ghostface robe up, so she can reveal the lower half of her body, mainly her hard 8 inch dick that’s been eager to enter you the whole night.

“sit that pretty pussy right on top of this dick, baby.” she called out, patting her thighs to motion you to come sit on her dick. you crawled over to her, positioning your vagina to sit right on top of amber’s dick. the two of you share a groan of pleasure when you feel her dick sliding into your wet folds so easily. you could feel her tip getting deeper inside of your hole, stretching you out nicely. “mmm, fuck… ghostface.” you let out a soft moan, while taking your time to move your hips on your lover’s dick.

you started off really slow, taking as much time as you can to move against her. amber stroked her hands against your body, feeling every curve of it. she moved her hands down to your ass, giving it some nice squeezes here and there. your eyes started roll back at how good everything was feeling, you threw your head back in ecstasy. so many moans came from out of your mouth from how good her dick felt against your pussy.

“faster, slut. i wanna see your knees tremble when you ride me. i don’t wanna see you be able to walk in the morning, understand?” your girlfriend ordered, there was sense of harshness to her tone. she started to slap your ass with a hard smack, it leaving a tense sting on your right ass cheek. amber let go of the right side of your hips with her right hand to grab her knife. she picked it up and pressed it against your neck, the blade sitting right above your skin. you nodded, starting to obey what you were told as your body moved quicker onto her dick.

amber started to grab you to guide your movements with her left hand as you rode her dick. she squeezed your ass and pushed it onto her dick, showing that she was in control of your every move. she start begins to put her knife back down so she can grab onto you with both her hands now. she grabs your hips and slams it onto her cock, your whole body jerking upward from the slam. your boobs were bouncing at every single hop that was on her dick.

you press your hands against her body, grabbing her waist to hold yourself up for support. sometimes, you’d take your hands off of her waist to feel up on your body especially your breasts because you knew that was her favorite sexual part of your body. “that’s right, touch yourself while i fuck you.” she cooed, continuing to move you against your hips.

when watching you slam against her thighs, each slam was getting more and more powerful by the second. she licked her lips as she watched your pussy consuming her whole dick, the sight being a beautiful one. you felt amazing on your girlfriend’s dick, so tight, yet it felt so good when you squeezed around her hard dick. “god, fuck, baby you feel amazing on my dick like always.” the raven haired girl let out a groan, praising you for your hard work.

you couldn’t really say much but moan because of how she kept shoving your pussy onto her. “a-all— for… you, ghostface.” you spoke, in between continuous moans at the feeling. the more you rode her, the more you were starting to see stars. you could feel your knees trembling from how much skin was slapping against skin, the only noise happening in this room. you felt your knees about to give out. amber could feel her brows starting to narrow and tighten from all of this pleasure, she was very close to cumming.

“fuck— i’m about to cum. shit.” she breathed out, letting curses roll from her tongue so effortlessly. after you hit you hit your last final jump on her dick, you just sat there and buried your pussy on her twitching dick. she rolled her head back while saying your name as she started to let her cum shoot inside of your vagina. the two of you remained in your same spots, neither of you moving. amber took off of her mask, revealing her fast, heavy pants that were kept behind it.

she could see that you were panting just as much as she was, the two of you had your eyes staring right into each other. you started to lean onto her body, snuggling into her warm, comfortable embrace. her pale hands snaked their way around your hips as a way to bring you more comfort. you were laying your head on top of her shoulder. she gave you a small kiss, before chuckling at your exhausted, laid out position on her.

“i wish you would’ve spoken up about this whole dirty little secret of yours earlier, love. we were missing out on so much fun that could’ve happened sooner.”

#amber freeman #amber freeman x reader #amber freeman smut #scream x reader #scream x you #scream x you smut #q’d 🖤#Spotify

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alwaysshallow · 7 months

Text

— gorgeous, part 2

Simon "Ghost" Riley x f!reader

previous part and next part

A man's attention, charmed by clumsiness. You truly hate it. (2,7k)

Read on AO3

The second time you see him? Two weeks later, a routine visit.

He doesn't call you at all, to ask something, he doesn't text you either; Bernie said that he reacted with a thumbs up reaction on a reminder about the visit, which made you chuckle. He seemed like that type since he wasn't talkative in person. You wouldn't accuse him of being super witty in text, he was just dry.

But, he would probably text if something was wrong with that adorable, orange stray cat that he practically adopted – so, you were pretty calm.

Control visit was necessary to check if the bone was healing good, if the kitty didn't need anything more.

And, besides, it was your chance to break the ice once again, and talk to him again. It was frustrating how you wanted it, but that's the thing about you – you could bring the best from everyone, make them talk, so what the hell was the matter with that incredibly tall, British guy? It was a mystery all along, and you were more than eager to solve it, especially when his cat was your patient.

Everything just needed to... work. You had to make it work, to get through that tough facade that he had because that was a facade, right? No one was this... composed, cold. Professional.

At least you thought.

You peeked out of your room again; the corridor was empty, you couldn't see even a damn soul that looked like him – and by that, you meant that scary skull mask that he had on the last time you saw him, since you didn't get to see his real face beneath it. He was already seven minutes after the time he was supposed to be in, and if he would make it fifteen, you were sure to close that clinic. Somehow, it was again a late visit, and you weren't so eager to wait for him forever.

Every minute counted when you were hungry, and you literally dreamed about a warm bath coming along with episode of Criminal Minds.

"Sorry. We had... problems." you heard, as the door opened finally after another two minutes; there he was, but... different.

The voice and his eyes were the only things that you recognized because everything else was just... different. He was without his skull mask and balaclava, looking perfectly normal, like he wasn't the guy that scared the shit out of Bernie two weeks ago. Black hoodie, jeans in the same color, white sneakers – his figure was even more muscled in those clothes, instead of military ones.

And you could see his face, what was probably the best thing about it all. Messy blond hair, not long, but long enough to curl a bit under the humid weather, face that had a big scar at the right cheek, and a couple of smaller ones in the rest.

You couldn't tell where exactly they were, as his eyebrow automatically arched in a question, and you felt your cheeks burning a little, so you started staring at the top of your shoes instead.

For fuck's sake, he was blonde.

Out of whole palette, he had to be a motherfucking blonde. The irony of it all striked you in full force; you thought he was brunette, just because of his mysterious demeanor. Like, maybe it was stereotypical way of thinking, but brunettes always were... different than blondes.

Yet, that one seemed to be the famous "exception" of the group; blonde that wasn't a talker, blonde that seemed like he's keeping everything to himself.

"You look like you've seen a ghost." he murmured, snapping you out of your thoughts.

One of his hand in his jeans, another holding the transporter – shortly after, he put it on the table.

You wish you could have Bernie here for support in that moment, but she had to leave earlier than she was supposed to – family business or something, but she needed that, so you just gave her a free time. She was too precious for her own good.

So, you were all alone with that interesting man. Maybe it was for the better? Less people, he could talk freely, he knew you a bit, and you really hoped for more scrapes of information from him. Every one counted. "Mm, no. You just look different" you sighed, seeing a glint of amusement in his deep brown eyes, but you said nothing about it, as you approached the transporter, seeing sleeping kitten in it.

You automatically smiled. "How is she?"

"Besides the times that leg hurt her more when she tried to walk or stand fully on her paws, she's good, I think. She wasn't really eating for a day or two, but I... managed." he said, his expression stern, when his gaze was darting between you and his cat, when you were examining her.

It seemed like everything was alright when you were touching her broken area, but you had to do an x-ray, so as the last time, you informed him and did your thing.

You came back a few minutes later, already with a scan so you wouldn't make it more awkward than it should be. Seemed alright, that x-ray; not too bad for a stray that was rescued and probably didn't trust Simon like normal cat would do, adopted one, not betrayed by humans. Involuntailry, you looked at her again, as she licked her owner's hand, when he played with her through a cat transporter.

A little smile crept up on your lips, as you observed that scene.

Something was making that big guy soft after all, you thought.

"It seems like everything is healing pretty good" you started "it's still early to let her walk on her own, so you have to be careful still, even if..." you didn't finish your sentence, as you tripped.

You didn't even realize what caused it, but you felt embarassement already, thinking that if you will hit something in result, will put you in a grave, and you probably you won't show your face to that man ever again.

Clumsiness? Your second name, so to speak.

Nothing like that happened though; a firm hand gripped your arm in place, preventing you from falling, and as you looked up at Simon, his stern, yet calm expression, you just felt like a blush is forming on your cheek. His hair was falling comfortably on his forehead, as he hummed, like he was considering something, when your gazes locked in, his eyes meeting your grey ones. Curiosity killed the cat, but you wanted to brush his hair with your fingers, just to see if they were as fluff as it seemed.

It also seemed like you were keeping eye contact with him for twenty minutes, when in total it was five seconds, when you snapped out of it and backed off before doing something more stupid than tripping – but hell, it was worth it for a close view like that.

"Careful over here." he mumbled in low voice, crossing his arms over his chest.

"...right, thank you. I don't wanna end like up like your cat, who's gonna treat her then?" you raised your eyebrow, trying to sound amused, you even made a joke (bad one) – you wanted his attention anywhere, but not on your cheeks right now. "Back to what I was saying, even if she wants to move more, you can't let her overwork herself, right? So it won't get worse."

He nodded.

You were grateful he wasn't teasing you about that blush on your cheeks; not only it would make your cheeks go redder, but it would be utterly awkward, and you didn't want that. Not at least after the time when you made a proper conversation with Simon.

First one – you noted – because that conversation that was two weeks later didn't even count as a conversation – more like, exchange, something professional. Right now, it was professional, sure, but it also seemed... comfortable enough for you to not stress what are you supposed to say, or if he's gonna beat you up.

You examined the cat again, searching if something was wrong, or if she needed anything else, but she seemed... taken care of perfectly, though. Her furr was so different from the last time; now, fluffy, she was being well-fed, you could tell. It cherished your heart, truly, it always was a good feeling when a stray found perfect home.

No matter if perfect home was in 6'4 giant with perfect, blonde hair, brown eyes that could make you drown in them easily. No matter if that giant didn't want to talk at all, or he was just reserved to strangers like you. A true wonder, that man – you wondered if he was like that to his friends too, because he had to have someone, right?

"Okay. You're good to go" you said after a few minutes, as you started to clean the room; at least to sanitize things that needed to be done, you couldn't leave it all on Bernie, when she's gonna open up the next day.

"How much?"

You raised an eyebrow, chuckling. "Nothing."

"Nothing? $50 will do?"

"Jesus Christ, Mr. Harris" you groaned, turning to him, as you continued cleaning, going to the very end of it. "You dropped $90 two weeks ago, which is way too much, and..."

"Thought it was average prices for something like that." he interrupted you; for a few seconds, your gazes locked, and you could swear that you've seen a glint of interest.

Have you catched it somehow? You couldn't help but wonder, when he was counting the money, taking bills out of his wallet; you took only $5, not accepting the other $45. Not only he was overpaying for a routine visit, something that you adviced him to do, but he was annoying about it. His look spoke volumes, as eyebrow was cocked, but he just accepted the things as you put them, without saying anything else.

"It's just routine visits." you muttered when he walked out of the examination room, and you closed it swiftly. "Not something to pay for."

"I'm just appreciating your work. Late one, to be exact, no one's staying as many hours as you do, 's all." he explained, observing how you closed the front door too. You knew he wanted to ask something, just by that look of his, but he wasn't saying anything else.

"I'm good, no need to do that" you smiled weakly. "Part of the job, I love it too much to not stay over my hours."

"Mhm."

He nodded to you, which probably meant goodbye, considering that after that, he walked away. So, despite he couldn't see it anymore, you nodded back, and got into the car, thinking. It was a good conversation, you tried to tell yourself – he showed his face too, pretty one. Not to mention, he catched you in embarrassing moment, when you were about to fall, so...

You rolled your eyes, sighing. Why that occupied your mind? It wasn't like something was about to happen between you two, yet, thoughts that you had looked like one of a schoolgirl that has a crush. Pretty embarrasing.

What was more embarrassing though, was the fact that your car wouldn't fucking start, no matter how much you cursed under your breath. You tried multiple times turning the key in the ignition, and yet, it wouldn't start, it sounded worse than your grandma with asthma. Having no knowledge about cars that was going beyond changing oil and such sucked because you had no idea what to do right now.

Calling your mechanic would be a good option, but Celia wouldn't pick up, you were certain. Doing something on your own? Not a chance, you'd probably fuck it up even more than it already was. Leaving your car here seemed like the best options, but your apartment was a bit far, and walking to it in the middle of the night...

"You want for that battery to die badly, huh?"

That familiar voice made you jump a bit, and turn to no one but Simon, who looked at you with his piercing eyes, a transporter in his hand. You couldn't help but wonder, how the fuck you didn't hear his walk? He was, like, a motherfucking giant, and in theory he should have a tough walk, the one that you usually hear. Heavy one.

But no, no. This guy was sneaky as a fucking cat, and his swift, not noticeable movements were just preparing you to have a heart attack.

"Pardon?" you raised your eyebrow, looking at him.

"If you're gonna turn your key multiple times" he leaned a bit closer "you're gonna kill your battery. It's better to wait 'till morning."

You hummed in response, as you looked at keys in your hand; he was right, it was no need for you to try, you had maybe a one in a million chance for that beast to start. So, you stepped out of the car after rolling your windows up, and you locked it.

"Better to call the mechanic?" a sigh came out of your lips, as you adjusted your bag that was freely on your shoulder.

"Probably. Wouldn't want to make it more of a mess" he shrugged, keeping the pace of the walk with you. "Livin' far from here?"

His deep voice, with a British accent to it, made you shiver at his question; it was getting to you. And when you crossed your grey eyes with his? It was hard to not trip again, even if it was a pretty straight road.

Was it a little too forward to say that you were a sucker for different accents?

"A bit." you replied. "Not my first rodeo with walking from here, so I have my shortcuts, you know."

Simon raised his eyebrow.

"Not your first?"

"Sometimes my car does little tricks, you know. Like today. So, I walk, what other choice do I have?"

"How long it's been since you checked your car?" he asked, after a few seconds.

You let out a chuckle, as you tried to remember when you actually visited Celia. A few months? Six? More or less, even if your mechanic actually was reminding you that you can hop in every once in a while. It's not like you were always busy, you could just have a day off, since you were your own boss, or you could just close earlier.

It was just... a fuck up, from your side, honestly. It wasn't your smartest thing you've done, but shit happened sometimes.

"Around six." you managed to mumble with a bit of shame, as he gave you a look.

"And for six months you occasionally walk to home in the middle of the night? Instead of, I don't know" he snorted, rolling his eyes "maybe going to mechanic?"

You huffed.

"You make it sound worse than it already is" you pointed out, amused, despite the fact that he practically called you out.

He was right, and you knew it very well.

"Although" you started talking again "it's the perfect scenario for tragedy, you know. Kidnapping, being murdered in those bushes. Really."

Simon, before completely disappearing from your sigh in some alley, gave you a polite look that spoke volumes about what you said. Yet, he didn't dare to disagree with you, he probably thought of that too.

The headlines in newspaper would be funny. Vet died on her way home or Mysterious disappearance of Addison Frost. That second one sounds like a book or something – you thought.

"Take care, once again. Would hate for Sparkles to have other vet." you managed to hear, when you parted your ways, walking in other direction to your homes.

Sparkles.

So, it's the name of his cat.

You smiled under your nose, as you thought how adorable it is to name an animal like that. What was his inspiration, though? Has he looked to ideas on the internet, or he had it in mind? He didn't seem like he was a big softie and just decided on that. Maybe he had an inspiration?

You couldn't help but wonder, thinking that probably Simon Harris will occupy your mind for a little longer, even if he was just a client.

A client that you managed to talk to, despite his cold demeanor.

Seemed like a reward to you.

#simon riley #call of duty #imagine #simon ghost riley #simon ghost x you #ghost mw2 #ghost x you #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #cod fanfic #cod mw2 #cod x reader #ghost cod #simon ghost x reader #cod #ghost call of duty

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fallenneziah · 13 days

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Hello I saw your Alpha Ghost x Omega reader fics and I was wondering what if reader was an alpha and Ghost was the Omega

(If you can make reader a timber wolf and make it fluff no smut)

Aw, I love making these things. You'll get all the fluff.

Alpha!Reader x Omega!Ghost

Omega!Ghost who actually was very sheltered about telling people he was an Omega. He didn't tell anyone for a long time and went through years just to try and hide it.

Omega!Ghost who after being captured and held by Roba couldn't help seeing his body as nothing but an object, wanting to hide it more.

The generational shame that came with being an Omega and wanting to hide himself continued for many years that he was like this.

Alpha!Reader whose distinct senses and abilities made them a prime recruit for the military. Joining without incident and pushing through rank.

Omega!Ghost whose been used to hiding so long the feelings he's attempted to keep dormant deep down bubble back up slowly when he sees you.

Your capable, your strong, your scent hits his nose and it's like his knees are weak and he can't get enough.

Alpha!Reader who sees the big lieutenant and it's honestly scary to see him looming and watching you. He's an alpha probably, making sure you don't cause shit for the others.

Alpha!Reader and omega!Ghost don't get too close yet, Ghosts intense heat blockers keep most of his identity a mystery. If anyone got so close as to figure it out that was an accomplishment.

Alpha!reader who starts trying to prove themselves for the alpha watching every day.

Price can only laugh, looking over at Ghost whose watching behind the mask with the lovesick eyes of a puppy finding a new owner. "Do they know?"

"No."

Price looks back at you, flexing your hardest and trying your best to impress. "Didn't think so."

Omega!Ghost who is relishing the attention. He knows you're showing off for him, and whether he will admit it or not, he likes it. He enjoys watching you flex your muscles and show off the wolfish side of yourself.

This gander goes on for a while between the two. Ghost watches as he feels that Omega inside him purrs and leaps. Like a cat awake from a nap ready to stretch its back legs and take off.

Alpha!reader who's tired, a day of showing off to the man who won't even speak to you. They head back to their common area and whose there?

Omega!Ghost whose finding that his omega is much more prone to cuddling than he remembered. Snuggled up in a blanket watching whatever was on tv.

"Sir, lieutenant." You attempted to greet casually as you sat down. The taste of peppermint and lemon citrus. The scent makes your stomach twist and your head whip around.

Omega!Ghost who could care less hunkered in his blanket like a turtle poking his head from his shell while your instincts stir and confusion sets in.

Ghost is very used to your scent because he smelled it first. But as you smell this new smell you realize it's coming from him.

Alpha!reader who realizes the man you've wanted to impress all this time has been an omega. Which, honestly? Not a bad thing. Not at all.

Omega!Ghost smells your growing scent, looking over at you. Your scent swarms the room like a thick cloud. And you look over at him. His pupils expand and close, as if trying to resist relaxing into the presence.

Alpha!Reader who lets the scent fill the air and swarm his nose. You smell of woods, fresh dirt and the familiar smell of a mutt wet from the river.

"You think this is that easy?" He asks curiously as he flips through his book.

You watch his fluid motions, seeing the way his fingers grasp so gently at the pages. You look at his face, seeing his beautiful lashes casting over his brown eyes.

"I didn't realize I'd have to be chasing you.."

"Does that turn you off??" He asks, and looks to you briefly.

Your canines show behind a smile. You reach your hand over and rub his thigh, feeling the muscle tense under the subtle touch. "No, no it doesn't at all." You reply, moving boldly closer to him.

Omega!Ghost usually didn't let people into his space, but hell, you'd worked your ass off for it. "Mm." He replied and you snuggled up to him, your hand drifting around his lap to capture his waist. When that didn't make him move, you nuzzled his scent glands, shifting his mask and giving them an experimental lick.

Ghost jumped, his cheeks going bright red. "That's enough you- mutt."

"Ouch, Ghost... You like it."

Alpha!Reader who proceeds to gently groom Ghost. Ghost hadn't ever been groomed before. Maybe the occasions head scratches from Price but this was... So much different.

Omega!Ghost who can't help whining for your attention and affections. His resolve is slowly crumbling beneath him as your smell is the tip of the treat. He's held it off as long as he could, now he just needs the experience he's missed out on from people he can trust.

Alpha!Reader doesn't pull his mask up too high, but enough to lick and kiss around his neck and shoulders. There was no intention of lust behind them, merely to help his shoulders relax with warm, sweet lips tending to them.

Omega!Ghost who sinks into it, nuzzling against you. Every instinct in his body he'd pushed down for years over years pooling out in an instant. His trust issues scream at him, and he partly pulls away. "Keep your hands where I can see them... Mutt." He mumbled, attempting to make it clear where his line drew.

Alpha!Reader who fits him in their arms, nuzzling him. As any wolf would, you continued to groom him. "I wouldn't do anything you wouldn't want." Ghost is completely lax. Whatever you did... Fuck you did it right.

Something felt so... New. It felt like your arms were a barrier between him and everything else. Your arms kept him safe, your scent, your presence, this was safety.

Alpha!reader who watches his eyes so effortlessly flutter closed. They nudge his cheek and press a quick kiss to the mask, feeling their heart jump for joy.

"We'll take it slow ... But I think I've found what makes you tick." You chuckle, seeing him fully blissed out, getting a mere taste of what true safety feels like. After years of hiding, worrying and screaming. You've given him just a smidge of what he could have with you.

Safety and companionship.

#simon ghost riley #simon riley #cod mw2 #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #call of duty #simon ghost x reader #simon riley x you #alpha reader #omega simon riley #alpha!reader

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youremyheaven · 1 month

Text

Rahu & Ketu: The Mystery of Being

TW: abuse, rape, murder, abduction, childhood trauma, violence

The more I study Nodal energy, the more I realise how truly hard it is to remain within its influence, it escapes your grip or eludes you so easily and I think even Nodal natives feel this way, its really hard to have a stable/consistent self image or strong identity because with Rahu you are sooo many different things and your energy is dispersed completely (Rahu being the "head") and with Ketu, you're in the dark completely so you feel unable to identify with anything permanently i.e you outgrow things quickly (Ketu being the "body"). Both Rahu & Ketu are malefics and generally considered to be inauspicious but please don't be discouraged!!

The reason why they're considered inauspicious is because Rahu creates excessive immersion in the material realm as these natives are always looking out of themselves/seeking external things to centre themselves around. Since they're stuck in the head (literally) they're unable to be grounded or tethered. This causes overindulgence and gluttony. They might seem greedy on the outside but truly this is driven by their boundary-less nature where they literally do not know when to stop, nothing feels "enough" for them, they never feel "full". Since they're so vastly spacious internally, they can accommodate a lot, this makes them very tolerant and accepting of virtually every one and every kind of experience. But this internal spaciousness also means that they feel empty, just because its hard to "fill up" all that space and feel "fulfilled". This causes them to overexert themselves and go above & beyond. They do this just because they can. This is why they're such obsessive lovers. They have so much space, so much to hold, they need a great deal of stimulation just to feel normal. In social settings they may come across as very hyper, very loud, very extra, always doing the most, eager to please everyone (its similar but different to Jupiter energy). This over-attachment to the physical or sensorial realm means that its hard for them to transcend beyond it to attain true spiritual liberation. They can never fully let go because its very scary to be cut off that way. Its like floating in space, nothing to hold on to, no gravity, nothing to fall on, you can't stay still, its all very disorienting.

The reason Ketu is considered inauspicious is because it causes extreme detachment from everything. These natives don't have a strong sense of self, they feel themselves dissolve almost and they're always wandering in search of something to connect to. This complete lack of attachment to anything material or concrete means that these natives lack grounding. In order to care about something you have to be firmly rooted in reality and Ketuvians struggle with this because they're never fully here. They may intellectually understand or support social causes but its a torso without a head, which means they dont have the energy to be committed to sustaining interest in anything. They're the type of people who go through a lot of different "phases". One can only transcend if one is connected to life in the first place, these natives aren't. It DOES make spiritual understanding easier and Ketu is considered one of the most spiritual planets but it is difficult to be rooted or grounded in this or be disciplined about it because like I said Ketu is detached. They inherently understand certain spiritual truths but its very rare (unless other positive placements are present) for these natives to fully immerse themselves in spiritual pursuits.

(table by me😎hehe)

Its very interesting to me that none of the Nodal naks have the purushartha ("motivation") of Moksha (liberation). All 6 naks are evenly split between Artha, Kama & Dharma.

This again points to how even though Nodal influence helps one grasp spiritual concepts better and naturally embody certain spiritual truths, these natives are not motivated by it.

But often what happens is that these natives are unable to enjoy or benefit from their successes. Their lives are full of ups and downs. The shadowy nature of the planets and the fact that the lack of physical existence of these planets creates a very "boundary less" energy that makes them susceptible to every kind of influence, good and bad.

Pierce Brosnan- Ardra Moon

Pierce Brosnan’s hardships pretty much started at the very beginning. Born into a poor family in rural Ireland, he was swiftly abandoned by his father, who he would only go on to meet once. His mother was forced to send him to live with his grandparents while she worked as a nurse in England, then his aunt and uncle, and then onto a boarding house. His mother visited twice a year until he could move to England at age 11, at which point he became the focus of school bullies.

In 1980, Brosnan married Cassandra Harris and adopted the 3 children of her late-husband, adding one more to the mix for good measure. But in 1991, Cassandra died in his arms after a 4 year battle with ovarian cancer, which would later go on to take the life of their 41 year old daughter Charlotte in 2013. By then, he had become estranged from his son Chris, who had a major drug problem resulting in fights, thefts, and 2 drunk-driving crashes in 2 years. The crashes may have been the straw that broke the camel’s back, as Brosnan had already narrowly avoided losing his son Sean at 13, after Sean’s cousin drunkenly drove off a 200-foot cliff. In 2015, the $18-million Malibu home he lived in caught fire and sustained $1 million in damages.

Kelsey Grammar, Shatabhisha Sun, Mars in Ashwini, Ketu in Ardra

Kelsey Grammer’s troubles started early in life, with his parents splitting up when he was just two years old. His mother’s parents took them in, and helped raise Kelsey until he was 12, when his grandfather died of cancer. The following year, his father was murdered by a home intruder who had started a fire, all in front of his new family.

Then in 1975, Grammer’s 18 year old sister Karen was abducted, raped, and murdered by four men who left her for dead. Sadly, Karen had enough strength to make it to a nearby house, where bloody handprints revealed she was attempting to ring the door. The house was empty. Kelsey identified his sister’s body one week later. 2 years later, both of his half-brothers died in a scuba diving accident.

Shockingly, Grammer has appeared at the parole hearings of the last remaining member of the gang who killed his sister. In 2014, he spoke directly to the killer at the hearing, stating “You could not have come to a better person in the world than me to advocate for someone who has made some bad choices. I accept your apology. I forgive you. However, I cannot give your release my endorsement. To give that a blessing would be a betrayal of my sister’s life.

Nicki Minaj- Mula Stellium (Mercury, Venus & Ketu)

Throughout her childhood, Minaj had to contend with her abusive, drug-addicted father, who would regularly beat her mother, punch holes in the walls, get arrested, and sell their possessions for drug money. At one point, he attempted to kill her mother by lighting the house on fire. Despite all this, the pair are still together, and Dad apparently isn’t too happy when she tells that story. To this, she says “It’s the price you pay when you abuse drugs and alcohol. Maybe one day your daughter will be famous and talk to every magazine about it, so think about that, dads out there who want to be crazy.” Nicki is currently married to a paedophile and convicted rapist so there's that as well.

Terrence Howard, Mula Moon, Ashwini Venus conjunct Saturn

Terrence Howard suffered physical abuse not only at the hands of his father, but his mother as well. When he was two, he witnessed his father stab a man to death, for which he was convicted of manslaughter. His mother raised him until his father was released, at which point they divorced, and he was sent to live with his grandparents. At age 16, Howard had himself legally emancipated, moved to New York, and lived off welfare while he tried to make it as an actor. While that was undoubtedly one of the hardest decisions he will ever make, it seems it was the right one.

Jennifer Hudson, Shatabhisha Moon

In 2008, Jennifer Hudson's mother, Darnell Donnerson (57) and her brother, Jason (29) were shot to death by her estranged brother-in-law, William Balfour. Hudson's nephew, Julian (7), was reported missing, but found three days later dead of multiple gunshot wounds.

Roy Orbison, Ashwini Sun, Jupiter in Mula & Ketu in Ardra

In 1966, Roy Orbison's wife, Claudette Frady, was killed when the couple were riding motorcycles. She was hit by a semi truck and killed instantly. Just two years later, Orbison's house burned down, killing two of his three sons. In 1973, his older brother, Grady, was killed in an auto accident while traveling to spend thanksgiving with Orbison.

Shania Twain, Magha Sun, Mars in Swati She was born into poverty with five siblings in rural Canada. Throughout her childhood, she endured and witnessed abuse to her mother from her stepfather, who lived with the family. Aside from the abuse, her family often didn't have money to have food for lunch or shoes for the winter. Even more tragic, her parents were killed in a car accident when she was 22 years old, and Twain began singing gigs to provide for her siblings. She told Oprah Winfrey in a sit-down interview, "Coming from where I came from, it was unimaginable to ever be wealthy. That was just too far out of my reach." She then went on to become one of the best selling female pop and country artists of all time.

Ashley Judd, Ashwini Sun & Mercury, Magha Jupiter & Ascendant

This actress comes from a famous family, with both her mother and half-sister being country music artists. Judd’s parents divorced when she was four, and she moved all around the southern United States while her mother sought success, attending over a dozen schools. Judd is the survivor of three sexual assaults, and one of these awful instances resulted in an unwanted pregnancy, which Judd terminated. The harmful treatment didn’t stop there. Judd alleges that she was also sexually harassed by Harvey Weinstein, whom she later sued.

Christina Aguilera, Mula Sun

Christina’s father Fausto worked for the US Army, meaning that the family moved around a lot, even going as far as Japan. On top of this lack of stability, her father emotionally and physically abused her. Her parents divorced when Aguilera was six, and she subsequently became estranged from her father. Aguilera used music to escape her turbulent home life, and her talent was obvious from a young age. This talent took her far, and she is now one of the highest-selling artists in the history of music.

Reza Pahlavi and his wife, Princess Soraya, Ardra Stellium (sun, mercury & venus)

Soraya was his favourite wife and supposedly his "true love", but since she was infertile and he had no sons from his other marriage, he had to divorce her to marry another woman, Farah Pahlavi, Ardra Moon, Magha Rising (who did end up giving him 2 sons out of 4 children). Soraya lived in Paris following their divorce and did fall in love again but she did not live a very happy life (her partner died in a plane crash). Farah Pahlavi's reign as Queen was cut short by the Iranian revolution following which both Reza & Farah were exiled from their own country, they lived in many places, Reza passed away 2 years into exile and Farah has since lived in obscurity in the United States. 2 out of her 4 children committed suicide and it is widely assumed that the family has gone broke.

Tragedy can happen to anyone and no nakshatra or planet will protect or prevent it but Rahu influence creates sudden gains and losses. What is quickly gained is also quickly lost. This is why Rahu is deeply connected to entertainment because not only is the entertainment industry entirely illusory, it also does not guarantee anything. You're a glorified freelancer basically. If you're not wise, you can lose everything in minutes. There is so much temptation all around you, you're surrounded by so many false promises and its very easy to lose yourself in all of it. We often see celebrities and idolize their easy lives but very very very few get to be stars their whole lives and live lives of convenience and comfort. For 90& of people its a very scary, tragic, difficult experience of immense highs and lows.

Nodal success feels dissatisfactory because Nodal people are unable to ground themselves in anything solid (unless other aspects that can do this are present) its very very easy for them to lose themselves in Maya or to be so completely detached that they do the necessary "maintenance" work that it takes to be a fully involved human being in anything.

Many say that the reason Farah Pahlavi's life was so tragic was because she took Princess Soraya's rightful place and Soraya's sadness had "cursed" Reza & Farah's marriage. that's stuff of urban myth but don't you think its interesting that a woman who wasn't of noble birth, rose to the ranks of Queen at the age of 21, lived a life of luxury very few can even conceive of and produced 2 male heirs!! which is all that the King wanted🙄🙄but ultimately none of it mattered? Reza having an "heir" made no difference because the Iranian Revolution overthrew the monarchy, they had to leave their palace, their luxuries, their maids and servants and every kind of comfort behind to live like nobodies in exile. They watched their treasury grow smaller and smaller year after year and obviously, no one was used to "working" so nobody got a job to take care of themselves or the others (I mean Farah and her 4 kids btw). They can never go back to their homeland or regain what was once lost. They're in a position that very few (other exiled royals) can relate to. They are socially and culturally isolated. All of these are Nodal themes.

Another Princess with nodal placements and a similarly tragic life is Princess Diana, Ardra Sun & Mercury with Moon conjunct Ketu

There are many royals who've lived more moderate lives or less tragic lives. Having it all and losing it all is a very Nodal theme.

It reminds me of SUGA's Interlude by Halsey (Swati stellium) where she sings:

I been trying all my life To separate the time In between the having it all And giving it up, yeah (Hey) I wonder what's in store If I don't love it anymore (Hey) Step between the having it all And giving it up, yeah (Hey)

Success is a very illusory experience for these natives. Its like trying to build sandcastles on the shore. I am by no means suggesting that Nodal people can't be successful, just that if they depend on "success" to give their life meaning, they're setting themselves up for failure. You ruin anything you singlehandedly obsess over, its important to know when to stop, when to withdraw.

These natives tend to go to extremes just to feel something

Zayn Malik- Shatabhisha Rising and Gigi Hadid- Ashwini Sun & Rising

idk anything about their sex life together but if we're to go by the songs then its 👀 giving bdsm

After that horrendous Revati video that Claire did years ago (and has deleted since I think) people associate BDSM, sexual deviancy and all around freakish behaviour with Revatis but you know who is actually crazy in bed? Nodal people

pornography impacts the brain much like an addictive drug by triggering ever-increasing amounts of dopamine. Over time, the brain builds up a tolerance to the excess dopamine and requires either more access or more extreme content (or sometimes both) to achieve that same level of perceived pleasure. In short, when viewing pornography, your brain gets less pleasure while wanting more, often causing desensitization and an escalation in behavior.

Kanye West, Venus & Mars in Ashwini

Kanye West's first encounter with sexual desire came during early childhood, fueling a dependency on sex that would set in during adulthood. “My dad had a Playboy left out at age 5 and it’s affected almost every choice I made for the rest of my life," West told Elle in 2019. "From age 5 till now, having to kick the habit and it just presents itself in the open like it's OK and I stand up and say, ‘No, it's not OK.’” The singer also credited his faith in God with helping him overcome his struggles. James Franco, Ashwini Sun

Actor James Franco developed an addiction to sex while he was recovering from an addiction to alcohol. On The Jess Cagle Podcast, he admitted to sleeping with students who were attending an acting school he previously ran. “It’s such a powerful drug,” he said. “I got hooked on it for 20 more years. The insidious part of that is that I stayed sober from alcohol all that time.” Since 2016, Franco has been in recovery from sex addiction and continues to work towards a healthy lifestyle.

Billie Eilish, Mula Stellium (Sun, mercury & ketu)

Billie Eilish went through her own struggles with pornography addiction after viewing her first pornographic video at only 11 years old. In an interview on The Howard Stern Show, the "Bad Guy" singer said she used to watch porn to feel like "one of the guys," but has since distanced herself from it entirely. "I think it really destroyed my brain and I feel incredibly devastated that I was exposed to so much porn,"

Charlie Sheen, Mula Moon

he is a pretty well known sex addict and sexual assaulter :/

Michael Douglas, Mula Moon

He's been candid about his struggles with alcohol and sex addiction. Michael even went so far as to say that his throat cancer was caused by performing oral sex on so many women.

Every good thing can be "bad" if its used as a coping mechanism and this includes sex.

Ketuvians are like black holes that absorb all the light, they have to suck everything in. They absorb easily but they don't feel rooted in anything beyond a short period of time. many say that Nodal natives have no moral compass or that they're thrill chasers or that they're not "good people" but honestly Nodal energies are just really hard to master. some people turn it into art, or work or something else where they can channel their obsessive energies fully without holding back. compartmentalizing things is hard for these natives so its important to have areas where you can go all out whilst exercising some modicum of boundary or balance in others.

Maladaptive daydreaming is another big struggle for Nodal people. they're also prone to nihilism and cynicism because they can't enjoy life in the same way as they need a lot of stimulation (they're desensitized to ordinary levels of stimulation of any kind). This means they struggle to find meaning in life. Apathy is their natural state of being. Its just hard to care because in order to care you have to be firmly rooted which Nodal people are not.

This is a quote by Werner Herzog, Ardra Moon who is a filmmaker known for his nihilism and scepticism.

Dos Passos did not have any major placements in any Nodal naks save for his Mars in Mula and Rahu in Shatabhisha but I thought his quote by him really explained things

The real danger of Nodal influence is the indifference and apathy that its natives experience. But Nodal influence is such that you have no place in reality, you exist in the shadows, you live behind the curtain, when your whole life is one long tunnel its hard to "care" or be immersed enough to fully take in their feelings. Nodal natives experience emotional impermanence which means that if you do not actively see proof of or feel a particular emotion, you believe it does not exist. they have to consistently see "proof" of your love for them to believe you. they seldom believe that the feelings others have for them are "real". they think they are the only constant in their life.

its hard for these natives to be passive and consume something without interacting with it. Moon dominants thrive in passivity whereas Rahuvians need to become one with that thing to truly experience it. Ketu also craves this sort of complete union but its different since Ketu pulls you into themselves whereas Rahu wants to pull themselves into you.

Nodal influence creates natives with a very nebulous self-perception and identity. They do not know who they are, they are a mystery even to themselves. Do you ever talk to a guy and think that he has no personality because its hard for him to list favourites or describe what he likes or dislikes etc? He probably has Ketuvian influence. Ketu people try on new aesthetics/personalities like its a makeover game, for a couple of months they'll have a hippie phase, now they're emo, later they're into retro glam or whatever. they like to try on different personas to see which one they like the best, i know this sounds kind of creepy?? but its truly because Ketu natives lack identity and rely on external things to give them a sense of self. This is why they're very uninvolved in the lives of others. They cannot give themselves too much because they dont know enough about themselves to "give" to others.

In vedic mythology, at the beginning of time when the devas and asuras churned the ocean of milk to extract from it the amrita (the elixir of immortality) Mohini, the female avatar of Vishnu, started distributing amrita to the devas. However, one of the asuras, Svarbhanu, sat in the row of devas and drank the amrita. Surya and Chandra noticed him and they informed Mohini; however, by that time, Svarbhanu had already become immortal. Vishnu, as Mohini, cut off Svarbhanu's head with his discus. Svarbhanu, henceforth referred to as Rahu and Ketu, could not die, but his head was separated from his body; his head came to be known as Rahu, while his body came to be known as Ketu.

Pertaining to this origin story, I have noticed how people with Nodal influence seldom benefit from "nourishing energy". This could mean they were neglected as children, lacked a good family environment, were abused or taken advantage of by others in their life (all of this is also subject to other placements in ones chart). Svarbhanu was a demon who temporarily became immortal because of a mistake. Like I mentioned with fame and success before, these natives struggle to "maintain" what they achieve, especially because their early lives were marked with deprivation of some sort. This could also mean absent parent figures. But there is a sense of "you shouldn't have been where you were".

Rahu energy manifests often as a very manic hyperactive energy

youtube

Ranveer Singh is the best example I could think of. He is known in the media for being an eccentric, hyperactive, loud cokehead lmao

He has Ardra Sun, Shatabhisha Moon

Ketu energy is more detached, more reserved, still weird and chaotic but overall less "hyper"

youtube

This interview with Lady Gaga is a good example, usually the people being interviewed are walking or moving around and trying to pretend its not scripted but she just sat there for the whole thing lol

Gaga has both Rahu & Ketu influence

She has Rahu in Ashwini in 1h as well as Swati Moon conjunct Ketu

i know i said last time ill make a post about the positive manifestations of nodal influence but its gonna have to wait a little longer 😬😬these are just some things i observed and i thought i should share them. hope this was informative.

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mrpenguinpants · 1 year

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Pale Blue Slumber [ Commissioned ]

[ Hello hello hellooooo, I was wondering if you could do hcs for Ayato x reader where the reader is constantly sleepy/sleep deprived and has a habit of falling asleep whenever, whether that be while standing up in the middle of a date or just straight up in the middle of battle ]

Word Count: 1.7k

Alhaitham Ver: Green Slumber [Masterlist]

I nearly missed this if kofi didn't spam you with 10 emails. But thank you so much for the commission! I looked at it and almost didn't believe my eyes lol. Please let me know if I accidentally went under the word count.

If you see a sleeping figure slouched in the middle of the hallway, don't approach them and alert Lord Kamisato immediately. It's a saying that's been instilled into the estate and something every worker is told on their first day. Although the language used makes it sound like there's a dark secret that the Kamisato family is trying to hide. Perhaps a dangerous yokai or evil curse has been placed, and they don't want anyone to know? It would explain why Ayato has managed to rise and maintain his position as the Yahiro Commissioner despite being so young. Whispers and rumors bounce between the paper walls as people speculate just what this mysterious "sleeping figure" is and why Ayato alone can deal with the situation. Yet the answer is lackluster when they find out that it's just his lover who, once again, has fallen asleep standing up.

The image of the Yashiro Commissioner carrying a limp body in his arms is slowly becoming a regular occurrence and less of a cause for concern. The first couple of times, people rushed with medical supplies only to be met with a sharp eye and an equally scary smile for them to please quiet down lest they wake up the sleeping figure in his arms. Now people will quiet down once they recognize your hair and that it's you Ayato is carrying, and he offers them a nod of thanks. That's not to say the whispers stop because as soon as they see Ayato turns the corner, they're back to gossiping and gushing over how cute the image looks. The graceful and refined Yashiro Commissioner becomes a soft and kind family man as he cradles you back into a quiet room to sleep in. It doesn't matter how busy or stressed Ayato is, when someone alerts him that the "sleeping figure" has "returned", he'll politely excuse himself and leave. Any complaints are ignored that it would have to take the Shogun herself to make Ayato sit for a second longer. But only for a second.

You can't explain why you're constantly sleepy or why you will suddenly fall asleep whenever no matter the circumstances. Ayato likes to compare your sleepy nature to Sayu, but he does try his best to accommodate you despite his busy schedule. He knows that you get a bit insecure about your habit, so he tries not to draw too much attention to it when the moments happen. He remembers the early days when you and he were just acquaintances, and you fell asleep on him mid-sentence. The young Ayato has no idea what to do with someone who just fell asleep in the middle of a serious conversation that he thought you died from the pressure. It caused quite a commotion that Ayato still likes to bring up just to see you get embarrassed. But now, if you fall asleep mid-step, he'll easily scoop you up in his arms and carry on as if nothing has happened. If you happen to fall asleep mid-sentence, he'll gently lean you against his shoulder and continue your sentence. If anyone tries to ask why you've suddenly fallen asleep, he'll pretend that he has no idea what they're talking about. The person nestled into his side? What do you mean they fell asleep in the middle of eating? You must be mistaken because they've been asleep the entire time.

Due to your sleepy nature, you're constantly in a drowsy state. While Ayato finds you adorable, it also means you have absolutely no filter. Sometimes he thinks you do it on purpose because of how easily you can write off your mumbles as the aftermath of dreams. Saying the first thing that comes to mind only to pass out the next second and leaving him to deal with the embarrassing consequences. It doesn't help that Ayato is usually the first thing you see when you wake up, and regardless of how your eyelids droop halfway, he's pretty. Really pretty. It takes a clumsy hand to reach up, cup his cheek to pull him into a soft kiss, a remark that he's the prettiest person you've ever seen, before promptly passing out again. You aren't awake for the aftermath of a pink-faced Ayato desperately trying to reign in his racing heartbeat and Yae Miko snickering at him.

On the rare occasions that you're more awake and energized, you'll seek Ayato out yourself. It's always an endearing sight to see Ayato's usually calm demeanor turn elated when it's you that pops your head through the sliding door. Shyly asking if he wants to go out for lunch as if he'll say no to you of all people. Although Ayato is a person that does not like to show his face in public often, that doesn't mean he won't find any opportunity to take you out on these special days. Any concerns about his overbearing work are easily brushed aside. His work will be there when he returns. You, on the other hand, might not even be conscious enough to see the papers. He gets a huffy scoff and a gentle swat on the arm before you take his hand and pull your teasing man along. He ensures he has an arm wrapped around your waist, gently squeezing you into his side while you prattle on about how cute Taroumaru has gotten.

While Ayato and the staff have gotten used to your habits, that can't be said for everyone else. When you suddenly slump forward, quickly caught by Ayato's hand so you don't fall face-first into your food, Kiminami nearly passes out in fright that she might have accidentally killed Lord Kamisato's lover with her food. She has no idea if Ayato's smile and wave are a sign of reckoning and that is a signal that he's going to send someone to kill her later. It takes an hour, and even Thoma arrives to calm the poor girl that no, she didn't accidentally food poison anyone, and yes, this is a regular occurrence so please stop crying-

That's not to say every instance is funny. You are his lover and if there were numerous assassinations against him in the past and present, that means they'll eventually turn to you. Regardless if you're aware or not, he has his men trail after you silently to ensure your safety. So when Sayu nearly barrels into him to report that there's been a fight and you're in the middle of it, he can feel his blood turn cold as he rushes to the scene. His hand itching against the hilt of his sword as he follows Sayu into a clearing. Only to find you propped up against a spear, passed out in the aftermath of a battle unharmed. Like your body auto-piloted your slumbering self and parked itself directly in the middle of battle just to give him a heart attack. It takes a nudge at his leg from Sayu to snap him out of his stupor before he lets out a sigh that sounds older than him before he walks and collects you back into his arms. The comforting weight and warm body against his settle his heart just enough that he can think properly over his heartbeat. If his work doesn't kill him, you sure will.

Ayato stays behind the scenes for a reason. He knows your body can fall asleep at a drop of a hat regardless if your mind actually wants you to. There's a reason why you're not allowed in the kitchen regardless if Thoma is there with you. There's a reason why Ayato is the only one allowed to carry you back regardless if Ayaka finds you first. There is a reason why there is a rule set in place for no one to approach you. On one busy occasion, a stranger spotted you leaning against a wooden beam with papers for the Iradori festival in your hands. It made for a bit of a funny sight with how you managed to support yourself upright while also clutching flimsy papers was a mystery. But no one seemed to be waking you up and you were standing in the middle of the street. The stranger tries to call out to you but receives no reaction so he does the logical thing and reaches out to shake you awake. Too many things happen within the span of a few seconds. A male voice yells out for them to not touch you, the stranger's fingertips barely brushing against your shoulders before they're pushed to the ground.

When you first wake up, there are a couple of expectations you expect to see. Whether it be a ceiling, blankets, or the side of your pillow. It's always something constant that grounds you back into reality. Unfortunately the habit of falling asleep whenever your body feels like it has you waking up in unfamiliar places that your flight or fight instincts kick in before your mind even has time to see properly. So in order to combat this, Ayato has now become your constant. When you wake up to pale blue, you know you are safe. Yet when you wake up this time, it's too noisy and there's a stranger in front of you. So you do the first thing your mind registers and it's to run. Run to someone who has pale skin, light purple eyes, and pale blue hair. Thoma tries to call after you but when you don't turn around at his familiar voice, he lightly curses under his breath before turning towards the Kamisato estate.

It doesn't take long for Ayato to find you. He always seems to know where you are and he's always the first one you see. Pale blue hair contrasts the purple background with a kind smile to ease your heart back down to its regular pace. He can tell you're exhausted, more so than usual, as he tenderly brushes your hair out of your face. Fingers brushing aside the leaves and dirt that got tangled into the strands before dipping to rub circles into your back. Another hand comes under your knees and carefully lifts you up, tucking you under his chin as Ayato makes the trek back to the estate. The quiet command to sleep makes your eyelids droop again before finally closing peacefully. Your mind finally accepts it's safe again to sleep against pale blue.

---

[taglist] <- if you want to be added, please read this first.

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nanowrimo · 8 months

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Plot vs. Story: Why the Difference Matters

Is there a difference between plot and story? NaNo participant Hedi Mohammed walks us through this question and talks about how knowing the difference can help you in your writing.

You may be wondering why this is a question at all. While it might not be an obvious problem, many writers tend to mash together the words “plot” and “story” and use them interchangeably. How accurate is that assumption?

It turns out that there is a notable difference between them, and knowing it gives you an edge over plot bunnies, characters acting out, and all kinds of other problems!

What is a Plot?

A plot is a collection of events that happen in a certain order in a story. More importantly, plot is what your characters respond to; it’s the combination of this action and reaction that moves a story forward. Therefore, the plot is considered a building block rather than the whole.

What is a Story?

On the other hand, a story is more than the sum of its parts; it includes the plot events, characters, worldbuilding, themes, and wording of your book. All of these different building blocks come together to form a complete, well-written recount of the story you want to tell.

Why is Knowing the Difference Important?

As you can imagine, trying to force the idea of plot, a building block, being equal to the entire story is a recipe for disaster.

By equating the plot to the whole story, you might find yourself focusing primarily on what happens in the world of your characters. This can make you accidentally compromise on other equally important parts of your story, like better characterization, without you realizing it.

Remember that plot events mean nothing without the reactions of the characters to them. There are many sides to a good story; events can be seen as heartfelt, cold, or scary depending on how characters react and how you set the scene.

How It Helps You Improve Your Writing

Simply knowing the difference between plot and story can clear up a few of the issues that writer’s block can stem from, like not knowing which direction your story is taking. Additionally, you can:

Prioritize different parts of your story. By moving away from the plot every now and then, you start to notice other areas that may need more work.

Improve the characterization of your characters. With the relationship between plot and characters in mind, you can develop your protagonist(s) and antagonist(s) alongside the events that affect them.

Explore more creative ways to make use of your worldbuilding/themes. Develop your mood in less common ways, or take advantage of simple sentences to make punchy statements.

Stay motivated and power through writer’s block. If you consider writer’s block a mystery to be solved, then you just made a breakthrough!

Here you go, a tidbit of information for your writing needs! While the misunderstanding may seem small, resolving it can have an incredible effect on your writing process.

Hedi Mohammed is an up-and-coming content writer and editor of MIST: After the Apocalypse, an Egyptian bestselling novel. Now that they have much more time to dedicate to writing, be on the lookout for fiction and poetry books of their own coming soon! Photo by Alina Vilchenko

#nanowrimo #writing #writing advice #plotting #by nano guest #hedi mohammed #plot

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thelittlestoflives · 3 months

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Thank You

soooo i sort of have a whole backstory to the Unravelling the Mystery fic and i just thought welllll i might as well post that too lol!! (i actually have lots of parts and stories)

again, very new to fic writing and i've thrown in some y/n lore in there too!! it's so vulnerable and scary to post stuff you've written (again i suck at proofreading so forgive pls)

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

sanji x strawhat!reader, or the story of how y/n became a strawhat and gravitated towards the chef

use of YN, afab reader

cw: stuff to do with horrible exes, forced eating of a devil fruit, being severely injured, slight angst to fluff but mostly fluff i think

wc: 2.7k

It was like a ritual. The breathing in the room evening out, slipping out from under the covers and creeping through the halls towards him. His arms were your salvation, every gentle kiss burning your skin with love, each touch so heavenly you could almost believe in a higher power.

You can barely remember how it began. It's like it's just always been this way.

But it wasn't.

Not when you were stuffed in that barrel, just you and the darkness and the splashing of the waves against the wood, the drip drip drip onto your already soaking clothes. You can't remember how you survived it, how you endured the minutes and the hours and the days you remained in there, physical wounds nowhere near the pain of the scarring on your soul.

And like words out of the holy texts, there was light. A piercing, bright light. But unlike the holy texts, soft mutters echoed in your ears.

"Shit. It's a girl."

"Dammit. So, it's not treasure?"

"She's injured."

"How long has she been in there?"

"Why does this always happen to us?"

“Get her out of there, for fuck’s sake! Why are you all just standing around?!”

Just like that, the light vanished and darkness returned.

When you came to you were in some sort of medical infirmary, the light streaming through the windows so intense that you could barely open your eyes. An assortment of smells hit your nose; disinfectant, bleach, salty sea air, and a bowl of rich chicken noodle soup that steamed as it sat on your bedside table.

Maybe that's when it started. The soup. You stared at it for god knows how long, tears streaming down your face at the act of kindness. The trauma of what you'd just been through vanished staring at that bowl, feeling the love of whoever made it poured into it. Your body had been wrapped in bandages and cleaned, and you wore soft pyjamas that weren't your own, your hair had been brushed, and someone had made you fucking chicken noodle soup.

A couple of days went by as your body slowly healed. The only interaction you had was with the ship's doctor as he tried to make you feel comfortable and safe. You didn't see any of the other crew, but each time you woke from a restless, haunted sleep, there was a steaming dish beside you. Before long, you were strong enough to walk around. Chopper held your hand as he led you above deck to meet the crew who sat around the kitchen table.

You felt shy and nervous. Sure, you'd spoken to pirates before, but always in a controlled environment, never on their turf.

But they were vastly different from the pirates you'd encountered, offering easy smiles and gentle words, coaxing you to tell them what had happened to you. You caught eyes with a man with a cigarette hanging casually out his mouth a couple of times, quickly looking away. Was this where it started?

You explained that you're a journalist on your home island. Or rather, were a journalist. Now? You were dust in the wind, not taking any sort of discernable shape, floating with no direction, no intention, nothing. You thought you had it all; a home, a job you loved, family, friends, and someone who you thought was the love of your life. In less than a week, it was gone.

You had been investigating a cult on your island and stumbled across a giant conspiracy involving the World Government. You had written a tell-all piece, ready to blow the whole damn thing wide open. But you made a mistake, you told your then-boyfriend about it. Turns out he wasn't who he said he was, he was one of them. Sent to keep an eye on the local journalists, he’d pretended to fall for you to keep you close. The cult that terrorised truth seekers from the shadowy underworld was an unstoppable and dangerous force and he was one of them.

They'd captured you, and when the darkness was lifted there was no heavenly bright light. Just a dank basement dimly lighting up your boyfriend's face, grinning from ear to ear as he told you in laborious detail what was about to happen to you. You would eat a Devil Fruit, they would drug you, and you would be forced to do their bidding. No choice, no control, this was it. They’d already done this to every other person who had been investigating them. They had a small army now, he informed you. An army of ‘nosey bastards who didn’t know what they were getting themselves into’. Despite your pleading, he laughed and said that you better get ready for what’s about to happen.

And so they did it. They had it all figured out. They forced you to eat the Devil Fruit, and as its powers flowed through your veins you realised that perhaps they didn’t have it all figured out after all. They didn’t account for the fact that you would be damned rather than be bested by a man.

Your powers erupted out of you, flowing with such a force that all you could do was let out a silent scream, as the shadows wrapped themselves around the foundations of the building they held you in and it collapsed into rubble.

An arm roughly grabbed you, pulling you out of the wreckage. It had stuffed you in a barrel, and an unfamiliar voice hissed the words: “It’s better if they think you’re dead. If you survive, never return.”

As soon as the last word of your tale left your mouth, a straw hat was placed on your head, and that’s how Luffy obtained another stray to add to his collection. You became the Strawhats’ Chronicler, your job was to forever immortalise the crew’s journey towards the One Piece and to document how Luffy became the King of the Pirates. Although it was a difficult adjustment at first, you became fast friends with the crew. Robin in particular was a huge help for you, as it was she who understood your plight the best.

Sanji kept his distance at first. You were so beautiful that he knew he wouldn’t be able to help himself from flirting, and that was probably the last thing you needed right now, so he resigned himself to being helpful in the background, finding out information about you from Robin and Nami and incorporating it into his cooking. But the two of you were like magnets, unexplainably drawn to one another and soon neither of you would be able to stay away.

You were ripped from your nightmare with such force that you shot upright, sweat dripping down your back. It was the same as always, but tonight you didn’t want to wake up Robin with your tears.

And that’s how you found yourself in the kitchen, face-to-face with a certain chef. He tried not to make a fuss as he saw your hunched, small frame in the doorway, tear-stained cheeks and sleepy eyes. Really, he did. But he’s only a man, after all. He gave you a warm hug and sat you down, making his own special sleepy tea (“I promise you, you will be knocked out after this. No bad dreams for our sweet Chronicler!”).

“I meant to say thank you,” you said quietly as you sipped your tea.

He arched an eyebrow, a gentle blush on his cheeks. “For?”

“The food. When I was in the infirmary, your food made me feel…” you trail off, suddenly embarrassed.

“Made you feel what?”

You look up at him, an amused expression on his face.

“Your chicken noodle soup made me cry,” you admit softly. “It was the first thing I saw when I woke up, and it’s my comfort food. And I cried. I was so touched that I forgot everything else. I can’t thank you enough for that. I could’ve lost my mind, but that small act grounded me.”

The blush was no longer gentle but furious as his eyes diverted from your face. “Ah. Well, it’s an honour to cook for a pretty girl like you, and even more so that it makes you feel something. So really, I should thank you for your high praises.”

Your mouth twitched into a smile. “No, thank you!”

His mouth echoed yours. “No, no, thank you!”

And you continued like that, thanking each other more and more dramatically through laughs. The silliness wore off, and Sanji’s face turned slightly more serious.

“Look, I wanted to say something to you too,” he began. “I’m sorry that your ex betrayed you like that. No beautiful lady should ever have to suffer at the hands of a man, much less a man who should love her.”

You blink, suddenly remembering why it was you were here in the first place.

“It’s okay,” you say with a small shrug. “Well, no, it’s not okay but… I dunno. What else can I say? ‘My ex gave me up to an evil cult and altered my life forever and because of him my family think I’m dead and I didn’t even get the t-shirt’? I appreciate that though. I appreciate all of you.”

He blew air out of his nose softly as you tried to make light of what was clearly a horrific situation.

“Well, if you ever need to talk, I’m here for you.” “Thank you, Sanji, same goes for you,” you smile.

He grins back. “No, no, no. Thank you!”

You laugh and lightly hit his arm. “Cut it out or we’ll be here all night!”

His grin widens. “Maybe that’s what I’m trying to do.”

And maybe that’s where it starts. Those late nights in the kitchen when you both couldn’t sleep, sharing easy conversations and trying to make the other laugh. Warm mugs of tea and knees touching each other under the table. A bubble you created with just the two of you, a sacred space, with none the wiser as to these secret meetings of yours.

It would become routine for a couple of weeks. The nightmares jolt you awake, so you pad through to the kitchen for tea, smiles, and chats.

“You know, I reckon you’re the beating heart of this crew,” you say as you blow on your tea to cool it down.

Sanji scoffs in derision.

“No, I’m serious! If Luffy is the soul, then you’re the heart. I see everything you do for the crew, Sanj. You’ve got a kind soul.”

You wished you could frame the look on his face to cherish forever. A mix of gratitude, embarrassment, confusion, denial, and something else. Something you couldn’t quite place.

“In saying that,” you continue, sipping on the now-cool beverage. “You look tired. If you’re looking after everyone else, who’s looking after you?”

He froze.

Your eyes are trained on his. “Look, there��s a reason we’re both here in the dead of night. You can’t sleep either, can you?”

He looks down.

“Let me in, Sanj. Let me look after you.”

And he does. He tells you everything, and now the bond runs so deep you’re afraid. After all, the last person you fell in love with lied about it and broke your heart. You couldn’t take much more. But this was different, somehow.

Maybe it started the first night you slept in his arms.

It was just a normal night. As usual, a nightmare ripped you from sleep. It was a particularly bad one this time, your cheeks wet with tears as you made your way to the kitchen. But when you got there, the lights were off. Panic clawed up through your chest. You’d come to rely upon the chef in the dead of night, and now that he wasn’t here, you were scared to face your demons alone. So, fuck it, you thought. I’ll just go to him.

The men’s quarters were loud. Zoro’s snores cracked through the room, and general grunts and smells and sleepy noises were prevalent, but it didn’t matter. He was there, and he would make you feel okay again.

And once you’d crawled in beside him, and his arms automatically wrapped around you, you knew that there was no going back. You woke up in your own bed, having slept soundly for the first time in weeks.

That night when you met in the kitchen, there was a slight awkwardness that hadn’t been there before.

He cleared his throat. “Did you, uh, did you sleep okay last night?”

“I did. Best I have in a while, really. I’m so sorry if I overstepped or-”

“No! No, I’m sorry for not being here at our usual time-”

“Don’t be stupid!”

“Thank you for-”

You both stopped and he cleared his throat again, cheeks bright red.

“Well, honestly? That’s the best I’ve slept in a while too. So, thanks. And I…” He paused as if building up some courage. “I wondered if you would maybe want to… Do it again sometime. But, you don’t have to and I don’t want you to feel like I’m coming on to you because I know you don’t want, like, romance or anything because of the situation with your ex and-” He began to ramble anxiously, bringing a small smile to your lips.

“Sanji, Sanji, stop! It’s okay! I… I would like that a lot. And so thank you.”

He stopped blabbering and clasped his hands together. “Really?” There was a sparkle in his eyes.

“Really,” you nodded.

You both built a little routine together. If Sanji wasn’t already in the kitchen, then you’d go to him. Otherwise, you’d meet in the kitchen for your cup of tea, before retiring to his hammock in the men’s quarters. The noises of the sleeping crew around you didn’t bother you at all as you lay entwined in Sanji’s long arms.

One night, you made your way into the kitchen and stopped quietly in the doorway. Sanji had fallen asleep at the table waiting for you. You took in his sleeping figure, the way his sleep shirt clung to his arms and revealed some of his chest. His face was relaxed and peaceful, and god, was it beautiful. Shit, you thought. I’m in way too deep now.

You gently woke him up, and the look in his eyes when he saw your face sent your stomach dropping and mind shortcircuiting.

“It’s you,” he whispered.

You nodded. “It’s me, Sanj. Let’s go to bed, hmm?”

He had that look on his face again, the one from before when you couldn’t figure it out. But now? Now you knew what it was. It was love. It was adoration. It was ‘you’re my comfort, my safety, you feel like home and I’m at peace’. He stood up and pulled you to his chest, groaning softly as he rested his chin on top of your head. You looked up at him, fondness in your eyes.

“Sanj?” You whispered.

“Yes, my darling YN?” His sleepy voice and eyes were too much. You stood up on your tiptoes and pressed a soft, swift kiss to his lips.

He stiffened, eyes wide.

“Are you sure?” He whispered.

You nodded.

His face brightened and burst into a lovesick grin, one hand settling at your waist, the other snaking up to hold the back of your head. He nudged his nose against yours as your lips met, the world melting around you both. He pulled back and rested his forehead against yours.

“I want to promise something to you right now,” he murmured. “I promise to protect you, to keep you safe, I promise I will never do anything that could possibly hurt you, and I will hunt down anyone who does. Thank you, YN, for showing me what love could be.”

“No, Sanj… Thank you for showing me.”

His eyes were brimming with tears too, but he laughed softly, unable to resist the urge to say:

“No, no. Thank you.”

And with that, you went to the safety of Sanji’s hammock, entangled with one another as you pressed burning kisses to each others’ skin, his heavenly touch making you forget what life was like without him. You don’t know exactly when it started, but you know this will never end.

#one piece #sanji oneshot #sanji drabble #sanji x reader #sanji x yn #sanji x y/n #vinsmoke sanji x reader #blackleg sanji x reader #vinsmoke sanji x y/n #vinsmoke sanji x you #sanji x you #op x reader #one piece x reader #strawhat reader #vinsmoke sanji x yn #vinsmoke sanji #my writing

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ckret2 · 3 months

Text

Chapter 35 of human Bill Cipher is still prisoner of the Mystery Shack and still handcuffed to Stan in spite of their mutual irritation: we return to them under attack by the tooth fairy and her dentist lackey.

In light of this terrible peril, Bill and Stan put aside their differences, politely agree to cooperate, and work together maturely to deal with the threat—

Haha I'm kidding, no they're screaming the most offensive things they can think of at each other.

####

Packed in a dark cluttered closet, trying not to breathe too much of the same air as Bill, under the sound of the dentist mauling his way through the bedroom door, Stan growled, "Okay, genius—do you actually have a plan for when we get downstairs?"

Bill had hooked his borrowed umbrella over his elbow to let him rummage through the closet's contents. Trying to keep his voice low, he said, "We can take the fairy ring down to the guest room and make a run for the exit in the floor room." His eyes lit up with delight. "Hey! Vintage congressman top hat!" He sniffed it. "It still smells like Quentin and peanut brittle." He put on the hat.

Eugh. Stan found himself glad he couldn't see in the dark. "Why the floor room? It's a lot faster to just cut through the living room to the gift shop."

Bill hesitated. "Sure. Fine—"

"What's the matter, Bill, you got a problem with the living room?"

"What?" Bill scoffed. "Of course not. I said fine. It's fine!" He found a large baggie full of teeth, popped it open and licked one to confirm they were real, and stuck the bag under his new hat.

"But it took you a second," Stan said. "If we head for the living room, you won't slow us down by trying to go the other way, will you?"

"Of course not," Bill repeated. It was a little less convincing than the last time. "I was just—trying to figure out if that was the fastest way—"

"Oh, really," Stan pressed. "You sure you aren't scared to go in there with me?"

Bill whipped around to stare at Stan in the dark.

"You think I haven't noticed how you bolt out of the living room any time I come in?" Stan asked. "Or how you flinch every time I raise my hand?"

Bill swallowed hard. "I don't know what you're talking about." He chuckled derisively. "I think you're fantasizing, Stan—"

"Do you really think I don't remember how you died."

Bill's voice caught in his throat. "You said..."

"Yeah, I wanted to see what kind of story you'd make up. You just can't stop talking down to me even when you know it's all lies," Stan said. "As if I'd ever forget seeing you on your knees, begging me for mercy, while I shattered your face like a cheap mirror—"

Bill shoved Stan against one wall, small hands wrapped ineffectively around his throat. "You don't know what you're talking about!"

"Admit it!" Stan shoved Bill against the opposite wall; Bill tripped and landed heavily on a cardboard box. "Admit that I killed you too! I played just as much a part in it as he did!"

"You did not kill me!" Bill stood on the box, even as it threatened to collapse under his weight, so he could scream in Stan's face, "You couldn't have killed me! I'M NOT CAPABLE OF BEING KILLED BY SOMEONE LIKE YOU!"

"THEN WHY ARE YOU AFRAID OF ME?!"

"I'M NOT AFRAID—"

An enormous drill bit pierced the wood between their faces. Bill and Stan screamed.

Just on the other side of the door, Pearl cried, "Careful! Don't hit the girl's teeth!"

Stan snarled, "You moron, look what you—!"

"You started it!" Bill pounded on the door. "Hey! Frankie! Is this worth it?!" He jumped back as the drill came through again, just in front of his sternum. It grazed Stan's bicep; he roared in pain. Bill shouted, "Was paying off your dental school loans worth this? Do you wanna be a murderer, kid?!"

"I can't stop now!" Dr. Illing was audibly sobbing. "You don't understand, I'm in too deep!" The drill pierced again, widening the hole he'd already started.

"If you think she's scary, you can't imagine what I've got—"

Stan clapped a hand on Bill's shoulder hard enough to make him jump; but he growled in Bill's ear, "Count of three."

Bill hesitated, squinting at Stan's future to see what he was planning; but nodded. "Fine." He didn't understand the purpose but he could copy the motion.

Stan put his hand on the doorknob. "One, two..." Bill squeezed his eyes shut. They slammed their shoulders against the door, Stan grunting in pain. Dr. Illing's drill caught in the wood, and they kept shoving it open, jamming the dentist between the door and the wall. Bill leaned against the wood with his full weight to keep Dr. Illing trapped, using his new umbrella to swat away the fairy buzzing in his face. Stan toppled an old fortune telling machine in front of the door to pin it in place.

Pearl barked, "You're useless, Frank!" She had drawn out a wand that looked like a metallic blue toothbrush and was aiming it at Bill's face. "I'll get those teeth myself if I have to!"

Wheezing through crushed lungs, Dr. Illing said, "But the treaty—"

"What treaty?!" From five feet away, she fired a bolt of mint white magic at Bill's horrified face.

Stan seized Bill's umbrella, opened it, and deflected the spell. It ricocheted off the umbrella and punched a flaming hole through the ceiling. From behind this temporary shield, Bill took out the teeth bag and flung a handful across the room.

Pearl gasped, abandoning Dr. Illing to dart after them. "Babies! I didn't hurt you, did I?!" Huh. More effective than Bill had expected.

"Go!" Stan ran for the door, grabbing Bill by the wrist to pull him along too. Bill snatched back his umbrella as Stan paused to shut the bedroom door behind them again. Even though Dr. Illing had shredded the wood around the latch, maybe he'd still struggle to figure out how to open it. "Living room?"

"I said fine!" Bill shut his umbrella and used it to point toward the fairy ring. "As long as you don't act immature about it!"

"I'm the one being immature?! You're the one who's scared of a room!" They stopped in the fairy ring, too close to each other for comfort; and then, with a disorienting whoosh, they were standing in an identical circle of mushrooms in the guest room. "Why does it even matter so much whether Ford or me killed you?" Stan yanked the door open. "Why is it so hard to admit that I threw the punch that took you out?!"

Bill clumsily kicked several sliced mushrooms aside, breaking the fairy ring, and nearly fell as he tried to keep up with Stan's pace. "Because you didn't kill me! You can't kill me because YOU AREN'T IMPORTANT!"

Stan spluttered in outrage, turning to stare at Bill. "Not important enough to kill you?! How does that even make sense! What, you think you're—too good for a guy like me to take down?!"

Bill's eyes widened the tiniest bit, as though he'd just realized something. A sickeningly gleeful grin stretched across his face. "It's true! I've looked into countless universes! No matter where you go or what you do, you just don't matter!" He wrenched his arm free of Stan's grip with such an effort that he nearly fell down; but he raised his gaze again to Stan's face. "If anything, you just make everything worse."

Stan's hands curled into fists. "You'd better watch your mouth—"

But when Bill planted the tip of his umbrella in the carpet and raised his cuffed hand to point at Stan, he stopped. Just a second ago Bill had been whiny and defensive; but now his inhuman gaze transfixed Stan to the spot. There was power in that mad self-assurance Stan had only ever seen before in criminal lords who commanded hundreds of gangsters. Bill bore himself like an ancient god preparing to pass judgment on a mortal, and Stan had no choice but to listen in dread to his revelation.

Bill said, "You know, I first tried to work with Stanford in a universe where you don't exist? And I couldn't get into his head! He wouldn't give me a chance!" He jabbed his finger toward Stan's chest like a knife. "Because YOU hadn't ruined his life and made him desperate enough to trust an alien! And YOU hadn't spent your whole crooked childhood training him to put up with a con artist's lies—so he'd be ready when he met me. Isn't that funny, Stanley?"

The air rushed from Stan's lungs. His voice was thin and trembling with rage. "You just— You're trying to get on my nerves." He'd never heard anything before that sounded so terribly true.

"So what if I am! It's still true!" Bill's laughter was like a shriek. "You were stillborn in that universe! Your brother had to grow up without a twin watching over him—so he actually learned how to make friends. And he was a big success at West Coast Tech. Your mother was devastated she'd lost you—but you know what's really funny?" He had the awful grin of a court jester about to deliver a punchline that would start a war. "I think your family loved that dead baby you more than they ever liked the disappointment you turned out to be—"

Stan socked Bill as hard as he could.

He expected Bill to flinch, to duck, to shield his head—something. Bill always flinched. Instead he locked up, facing Stan, wide-eyed and watching the incoming blow. The punch connected with his face with a sickening crunch. Bill toppled flat on his back. His top hat and umbrella tumbled across the floor. The chain jerked Stan down to kneel over Bill.

It was like a spell had broken. Stan stared down at Bill like an idiot. He felt like an idiot. The shock even snapped him out of his anger. He uncurled his fist, saw a smear of blood on one knuckle, tried to say something, and only managed to come up with, "Aw, jeez."

Bill was weak. He wasn't a demon anymore; he was a yappy chihuahua trying to sound bigger than he was because he was scared. Stan knew that. He was only kicking a washed-up loser of a con artist while he was down.

He'd been there before.

Bill had slapped his hand over his mouth and nose, fingers digging into the skin, eyes squeezed shut in pain.

Stan swallowed hard. "Hey, I didn't mean to do that much— I mean, you had it coming, but still... uh... you okay?" He awkwardly offered Bill a hand.

Bill reached up—and placed a bloody tooth, root and all, in Stan's palm.

Stan stared. "Wh."

"Tooth fairy bait." Bill gave Stan a wild, bloody smile. "Thanks for the help. It's been loose for days."

Tooth fairy— Stan automatically glanced toward the doorway to see whether their pursuers were catching up. And only then did he realize they were in the middle of the living room, standing in front of Stan's armchair. He'd been set up.

He stared at Bill.

Bill glared up at Stan. Voice rough, he said, "Who's scared of you?" He spat a wad of bloody spit at Stan's face. The attempt was so weak it landed on Bill's own shirt. A far cry from the whiny triangle who'd tried to bribe Stan into sparing his life.

They both looked up at the sound of wood cracking. Stan said, "All right, we've got bait." He seized Bill's bloody hand and, with a grunt, tried to heave him upright. "Can we set a trap?"

Bill unsteadily climbed to his feet. "I guess?" Either he hadn't thought past getting punched in the face, or the blow had knocked his plan out of his head.

Upstairs, Pearl snapped, "Now hurry, before we lose them!" Dr. Illing's footsteps thudded across the attic floorboards.

"Move," Stan hissed, and when Bill turned to glance cluelessly behind himself at the door, Stan rolled his eyes and shoved him.

Bill tripped over the steps up to the gift shop and stumbled backwards through the swinging door, with Stan following. When Bill had steadied himself, he stared in wide-eyed bafflement at the door he'd just passed through. "How did I..."

"Focus, Cipher!" Stan snapped his fingers in Bill's face. "Gimme some nerdy magic. What traps fairies?"

Bill dragged his gaze away from the door and shook his head woozily. "Uhh... carefully-worded contracts... salt lines, iron..."

"You couldn't have mentioned salt when we could've reached the kitchen?" Stan looked around the gift shop. Iron, iron...

"Wow, that's a great idea. Remind me why we were so bent on getting to the living room?"

"Watch it. You've got a few teeth left." Stan smacked Bill's arm, making him jump, and pointed. "Got it! The old diving helmet!"

Bill squinted his eyes unevenly. "Oh yeah—the one Fordsy got ripped off on. Hey—didja know diving helmets are supposed to be copper, but he got sold a spray-painted—"

"For two minutes, please stop talking about my brother. Will it work?"

Bill slowly traced a finger through the air as if he were trying to track the path of something only he could see. "Yeah, it could work."

"'Could'?"

The gaps at the top and bottom of the "Employees Only" door glowed bright blue. "Fresh blood," Pearl said, "they went this way!"

"Give me the tooth," Bill said. "And keep Frank out, we're dead if he gets in."

"In there!" Pearl cried, and Dr. Illing's drill revved again. The door to the living room was a swinging door without a latch; curse or no, if Dr. Illing hit it, it would fly right open.

Stan yelled, "Hold it! Do not drill that door! It's... it's load bearing! Yeah, if you start hacking holes in it the whole shack could come down on us!"

The drill powered down. Dr. Illing said dubiously, "That doesn't sound right, but I don't know enough about doors to dispute it."

Pearl swooped under the door—carrying an armload of the teeth Bill had thrown earlier—but she turned around when she realized Dr. Illing wasn't following. "What are you stopping for, you idiot! He's lying! Doors don't work like that—"

"Hey, sparkles!" Bill held his bloody tooth up next to his head. "You want this?!"

She gasped in horror, clapping her hands over her mouth and dropping the teeth. "You knocked it out! You monster, what if you chipped it?!" She drew her wand again and, with a tiny shrill roar, she dove for it.

Bill pulled it out of her way with the grace of a matador dodging a bull. She wheeled around faster than Bill could react, flung a spell at his back, and made another dive for the tooth. Stan jerked him out of the way. Bill laughed, "Is that all you've got? I've seen better flying out of dandelion seeds!"

She whirled around to face him again with a growl of frustration, fluffy bob cut puffed up in rage, wings buzzing like the propeller of a fighter plane. The third time she dove for the tooth, she snatched it out of Bill's fingers.

And immediately rammed head-first into the back of the solid iron diving helmet. It rang out like a broken bell. She croaked, "ow."

Stan slammed the front window of the helmet shut. "Ha!"

"Yes!" Bill pointed at the helmet. "You're stupid!"

Dr. Illing—who had dropped down to the ground to peer through the three-inch gap at the bottom of the door—cried, "No!" He pounded on the door in frustration. It swung a few inches open. He stared at it in bafflement. It swung back and hit him in the forehead.

"Well, well, well. It looks like we've got a proper hostage situation, don't we?" Bill rapped on top of the helmet with his umbrella's hooked handle. "Better stay away from the sides, Pearly. What would you say touching iron feels more like—being burned, or electrified? I've always wondered, but never had an opportunity to possess a fairy—"

Stan elbowed him. "Ix-nay on the ossess-pay."

"Right, right." Bill turned to Dr. Illing. "It'd be pretty easy for me to bounce your patron off the walls of this thing. So how's about you drop the power tools and back away from the door?"

Dr. Illing gave Bill the despairing look of a man who'd been struggling to carry an impossibly heavy weight for decades, only for one swift jab in the ribs to make him drop it. But he got to his feet, and after a moment, his yellow tool bag dropped heavily beside the door.

Stan opened the door, slung the bag over his shoulder before Bill got a chance to rifle through it, and pulled out the drill Dr. Illing had been menacing them with. Holding Dr. Illing at drill point, he nodded toward the gift shop exit. "Get walking. Outside."

"But..." Dr. Illing tried to look past Bill and Stan to the diving helmet.

Bill slung an arm around Dr. Illing's back, aggressively encouraging him to hasten toward the door. "Don't worry about her! We plan to resolve this peacefully, don't we, Fisher?"

"Oh yeah," Stan said. "Nothing to worry about."

"But we're negotiating with the boss, not the lackey. So..."

Stan opened the door. Bill planted a foot on Dr. Illing's butt and shoved. "Out you go!"

Dr. Illing went sprawling across the porch. Stan slammed the door on him as he got to his hands and knees. He looked over his shoulder to give them a look like a puppy who'd been kicked out in the rain.

"You're going to be in so much trouble when I get out of here," Pearl yelled. She grabbed the bars across the window in the diving helmet, then gasped and withdrew her hands as the iron burned her palms. "When the fairy queen hears about this—!"

"That you were breaking into a human dwelling to try to rip my teeth out of my mouth?" Bill asked. "Oh, I'd love to know what she'll think of that."

Stan rummaged in the nook where Wendy shoved spare napkins and plasticware whenever she brought fast food to work. He used a few napkins to wipe off the bloody scrape the drill had left on his shoulder in the closet, and held a handful out to Bill. "Here."

Bill took them. "What?"

"Your face is a mess. Thought you might wanna—you know." Stan attempted to pantomime shoving napkins in his mouth. As much as Stan thought Bill had deserved the sock, he'd feel like a heel if he didn't help clean him up after the fact.

"Oh. Right." Bill attempted to wipe off his chin, then stuffed a napkin up in the gap where his tooth used to be and pulled it out to see how much blood it picked up. It was a lot. He shrugged and turned to the tooth fairy, grinning. "So. I believe we were negotiating?"

"I'm not negotiating anything with you," Pearl huffed. "Look at what you did to this poor tooth!" She was hugging it protectively to her chest, her thin blue dress stained with blood from the root. "Maybe I haven't obeyed the spirit of my treaty, but I've obeyed the letter of it, and the fairy court will back me up on that—"

"Again, you did try to rip my teeth straight out of my mouth in the middle of the night," Bill said.

"I never! A dentist did! If he happened to feel like giving me the tooth after that, that's his business, isn't it. I could have been aiming my wand at anybody, you don't know."

"Sure, sure! You did nothing wrong. You slid neatly through those loopholes. Maybe your court will even agree with you." Bill leaned closer to the helmet, grinning through the window. "But don't you think—if I drive over to Multnomah County, walk backwards into your queen's court, and tell her what you've been doing—she won't want to close those loopholes? No more hench-dentists."

Pearl had gone very still. "'Walk b—'? How do you... What do you know about our court?"

Bill laughed wryly. "Kid, I've known your court since before it moved to America. I've spoken with the ancestors of the ancestors of your queen. The fae tell fairy tales about me, so if you know what's good for you—"

"Easy." Stan put a warning hand on Bill's shoulder. "Just because she's not human doesn't mean you can just..."

"I know, I know."

Pearl had been watching Bill skeptically as he spoke, clearly trying to weigh how much of his boasting was true—but seeing Stan try to silence him apparently persuaded her of his honesty. Her eyes widened in alarm. "Who—What's your name?"

Bill cast a sideways glance toward Stan, then shrugged ruefully. "Afraid I'm not allowed to tell. You know where we are—even people like you and me can't afford to disobey the collector's house rules. You can call me Goldie Locke. And if you don't want me to negotiate your release with your queen, then you'd better be willing to negotiate with us. Are we clear?"

Pearl nodded.

"Wonderful." (Dr. Illing had circled the gift shop to the nearest window, where he was staring forlornly in at Bill, Stan, and the helmet containing Pearl. Bill waved cheerfully at him.) "I don't know about the Fisherman, here—but I, for one, would like to make sure this doesn't become a problem again. So how about this: if you promise to leave, never harass us again, never have your agents harass us, never via any means attempt to harm us or steal our worldly goods—teeth included—either directly or indirectly, and never return to this house, then we promise not to report your little dentist scheme to your queen. Does that sound fair to you?"

Pearl pouted; but she reluctantly nodded. "Yes, yes—that's fair. I agree."

"Hold on," Stan said. "Once she's outta here, how do we know she'll keep that promise? Shouldn't we get some kind of, I don't know, insurance?"

"She's a fairy," Bill said. "She can't lie even if she wants to. They're compelled to tell the truth. They can twist it, and they can try to get you with tricky wording, but they can't lie. Once they've made a promise, it's unbreakable."

Stan considered that. "Huh." He'd have to double-check that claim with Ford later, he'd know.

"Which is why I get along so well with them," Bill said cheerily, "since I never lie either."

Stan laughed loudly, smacking Bill's back. "Sure! And I'm the queen of England."

Bill mock bowed. "Oh my, your majesty. I had no idea." Stan laughed again.

"I agreed to your terms," Pearl snapped, "so set me free!"

"Hold on." Bill propped his elbow on his knee and his chin in his hand, leaning close to the helmet again. "I seem to recall I only promised not to tattle to your queen. I didn't promise to let you go." He glanced at Stan. "Isn't that what you heard?"

Now what was he up to? But Stan nodded in agreement. "That's what I heard, all right."

Bill winked. "Like I said: tricky wording."

Pearl let out a swear that sounded like tinkling bells and stomped her foot. "That's ridiculous! If you've already sworn not to tell the queen about my methods, you no longer have any blackmail against me! You can negotiate with her for my release now, for all I care!"

"Your tricky wording backfired," Stan said.

Bill didn't look bothered. "All right. I'm sure you're happy to wait right here until we make the long drive into town, aren't you. You do know where we are, right?"

The fairy's face immediately darkened. "You... I don't see why not! There's nothing to fear in this house."

"Isn't there? Want us to go wake up the head of the house, ask him to babysit you until we get back?" Bill asked.

Huff. "He's gone."

"He's back," Bill said. "If you're lucky, maybe he'll stick you in the freezer for an hour, so it won't hurt when he pins your wings to a cork board." (Stan blinked at Bill in amazement. Head of the house—Soos? Soos?)

Pearl shuddered. "You're a liar."

"Am I?" Bill raised his cuffed wrist. "I've worked with the queens of your queens. I have powers you've never dreamed of. Do you think I'm chained to a doppelgänger for fun?"

Stan said, "To a wh...?" but at Bill's sharp look, he fell silent. All right. A lot of phrases that didn't make sense to him had just flown by. Clearly Bill was using some kind of fairy talk mumbo-jumbo to give her a wildly inaccurate impression of what was going on in this shack. Stan had manners, he wasn't about to interrupt a fellow professional in the middle of conning a mark.

Pearl worked her jaw angrily; but there was something nervous in her gaze now, glancing between Stan's face, the handcuffs, and the rest of the shack. "Maybe you're not as important as you think you are," she said unconvincingly.

"I've got magic teeth, girl."

"Fine!" Pearl stamped her foot. "Fine, I'll negotiate with you! What else do you want?"

Bill pointed at her chest. "I want to choose my payment for that tooth there."

She hugged the tooth protectively, but said, "Fine."

Bill looked at Stan. "You want anything?"

He considered that. "Better-fitting dentures would be nice? Can she do that? Is that something I can ask for?"

"Yeah, you can ask for that."

"Is that all?" Pearl snapped.

"Dentures for him, payment for me, unenchant our door and take out the carvings you left in it, and..." Bill glanced at Stan again, who shrugged. Bill said, "Yeah, I think that's it. Deal?"

"Deal!"

Bill gestured toward the helmet, and Stan flipped its front window open. Pearl stepped out, hovered up level with Stan's face, and gave him a murderous glare; but she drew out her toothbrush wand again and flicked it at him. "There. Happy?"

Stan adjusted his jaw thoughtfully. "Yeah. Oh, those're real nice. Hardly feels like they're there."

"They're better than you deserve," Pearl said haughtily; then turned to Bill. "And you? What payment do you want?"

Bill grinned wide, pointing at the new gap in his teeth. "Solid gold replacement! 24k."

"Pure gold's too malleable for dental work."

"I don't care, this body's a temp. Gimme the good stuff."

She gave him a sour look, but again waved her wand. The blood evaporated from Bill's teeth and gums and a new tooth materialized in the gap, the exact shape of the original but shining gold. Bill licked it experimentally. "Yeah, that'll do."

"Now get outta here," Stan said, "and take your creepy tooth temple with you."

"Hmph!" She turned her nose up at both of them; then zipped across the gift shop, ducking down to snatch up a couple of dropped teeth as she went. She dipped under the door into the living room and was gone.

"Well," Bill said. "We ended up better than we started. Free dental work, a bag of tools..."

"A bunch of property damage," Stan said. "We should've asked her to fix the kids' door."

"Ah." Bill winced. "Nooo, no, probably best we didn't push our luck. Fixing the other door's enough."

Stan shook his head, without much real rancor. "Can't admit you made a mistake, can you?"

"That would be a lie, wouldn't it? And like I said, I'd never lie." Bill smiled impishly. His new tooth gleamed in the dim light. "Let's clean up some of the teeth and mushrooms, huh?"

####

Sweeping up the gift shop was awkward with the handcuffs in the way, but they worked out a system: Stan handled the broom while Bill knelt and held the dustpan. Bill had retrieved his borrowed top hat and umbrella when they went for the broom, and now he kept his cuffed hand on the umbrella, which limited Stan's movement. He almost fussed about it, until he realized Bill's hand was shaking, and each time he stood he leaned on the umbrella like a wobbly cane. Stan tried not to notice how Bill sometimes winced when he had to turn his neck.

As they awkwardly swept up the gift shop, Bill said, "Lucky you got the dentist to stop drilling the door in time, huh."

"What?"

Bill nodded toward the living room. "The load bearing door? I didn't even realize it was that important." He laughed flatly. "We'd really be in trouble if he'd managed to knock it out, huh."

Stan stared at Bill. And then he burst out laughing.

"What?"

"You idiot, doors aren't load bearing!"

Bill stared up at Stan, face slowly going red. "Well, wh— How was I supposed to know that!" Over Stan's laughter, he demanded, "Then why did you tell him it was?!"

"Eh, if he'd so much as nudged the door, he could've gotten right through. Even with that curse you put on him," Stan said. "I had to say something to keep his drill away from it."

"Huh."

Stan could practically see the gears trying to turn in Bill's head as he attempted to understand that information. Maybe he should lay off the poor guy. It was really funny that a little curse made him too stupid to work a door; but he'd turned around and used that same curse to save their hides, Stan should probably give him a temporary pass just for that. He cleared his throat and tried to think of another topic. "Using that tooth as bait wasn't a bad idea."

"Yeah, it was pretty good."

"You could've just asked me to knock it out, though."

Bill glanced up at Stan. His face said, No I couldn't.

Stan understood.

During Stan's decade of travel—thrust into the world far too young, scared, alone, and homeless, with nothing but his wits and a mask of machismo—he had seen, again and again, the truth in one of his father's most frequent lessons: if you weren't tough, then you were nothing. Didn't matter what kind of money, possessions, or friends you had. If you weren't tough enough, you could lose them all in an instant.

And so often, toughness wasn't measured by how many punches it took to knock you down, but by whether the first one made you flinch.

The best thing you could do for yourself was win a fight. But if you didn't stand a chance (and Bill—short, noodle-armed, tiny-fisted, barely able to control his body, facing a man who'd been boxing for fifty years—didn't stand a chance), then the next best thing you could do was show that you could take it like a man. It might win you respect. If it didn't, then at the least it might let you keep some dignity. Bill was desperate for dignity.

Stan had the feeling that Bill had played this game before.

Who had Bill been before Weirdmageddon? Who had he been, that he could call Stan nothing but a con artist and a complete failure who'd have been better off never born—and in between suggest that Ford only trusted Bill because he reminded him of Stan?

####

They cleaned up as best they could, then dragged themselves back to bed.

Bill gave Stan a hopeful look. "Do I get to sleep in the guest room now?"

"No." Ford would murder Stan if he found out he'd let Bill sleep on his bed, and in his final moments Stan would probably think the murder was justified. And that was assuming Bill didn't murder Stan in his sleep.

"Aww, c'mon!" Bill said. "And here I thought we'd bonded a little!"

"Are you kidding? After you said I'm the reason you fooled my brother and my family would be happier if I was dead?!"

Bill laughed lightly. "You're too sensitive!"

As they repositioned their cushions and mattress on either side of the ajar door, Stan paused. "Was that stuff true? Or did you just say it to get a rise out of me."

"What, everything about Stanford being an only child? Naaah—I just thought it would be funny to make you mad."

In his heart, Stan knew Bill had been telling the truth.

Maybe not about there being a dimension where Stanford grew up alone, maybe Bill had made that up; but if so, he'd only made up a fiction that echoed the truth. Mr. Hotshot All-Seeing Eye was right: Stan had only made things worse for the people around him. The best thing he'd ever done with his life was put it on the line to destroy Bill. And apparently, even that hadn't been good enough.

Not for the first time over the past month, Stan wondered: if he'd never recovered his memories, would Bill have died with them? Was that the lifeline that had let Bill claw his way back? Would it have been better if neither of them had ever recovered? If they'd gone down into oblivion chained together?

Probably, on some cosmic level. Bill would be gone. Stan could've used his last few years learning to be a guy that brought more to the table than lying and punching. Everyone would be having a much better summer this year. But, on the other hand, Stan liked having his memories; and to be honest, Bill had been pretty worthless so far. Maybe it was okay that Stan had only done a C+ job at demon-killing. C+ was a passing grade; and he'd never been a straight A's kind of guy.

They'd just have to grudgingly tolerate being chained together.

Stan said, "So was it 'funny' getting your teeth knocked in, too?"

Bill considered that; then let out an involuntary giggle. "Yeah, actually." He settled down on his cushion bed. "But—no, really, I never saw a universe where you two weren't inseparable as kids. I'm sure it happened somewhere, the multiverse is infinite—but I didn't dig that hard. Wasn't one of my priorities. I only needed one Stanford to get my portal running, and the one here did just fine."

Stan still didn't think Bill was telling the whole truth; but then, Stan didn't think Bill had been telling the whole truth earlier, either. Bill wasn't actually telling Stan anything about what the multiverse was like—he was just telling Stan how he wanted Stan to feel.

And Bill could have said that everything he'd said earlier was true. But he didn't.

"You really are a pretty good liar, Cipher," Stan said. "It's too bad you're a lousy dirtbag bent on world domination, or you could've made a decent partner-in-crime."

"Yeah?" Bill settled down, holding his broken umbrella to his side and laying his free arm over his collapsed top hat, as if he was worried someone would steal them in his sleep. (Stan would have to get that umbrella in the morning. It had been fine for Bill to keep it while they were fighting for their lives, but he couldn't keep a blunt weapon covered in metal poky bits indefinitely.) "Well, my schedule's clear and I'm bored. Let me know if anything comes up."

"Don't count on it." Stan slid their chain under the door and pushed it shut.

Bill had wiggled out of explaining why he wouldn't admit that Stan had killed him; but Stan didn't think he needed to ask again. He kinda had an idea. He was at that age where he was starting to worry what his obituary would say, too. "Killed by his dimension-hopping long-time nemesis with 12 PhDs" probably sounded a lot better than "Killed by a crooked grifter in his underwear." The first one might let you keep some dignity.

####

Dipper and Mabel came home shortly after dawn. The light was already on in the kitchen; Mabel curiously ducked in to see why. "Grunkle Stan! Bill! What are you doing up so early?" She paused. "Is that my top hat?"

"Mine now."

Stan and Bill were sitting at the kitchen table, with two plates of eggs and bacon (Bill's eggs had chocolate sauce), and mugs of, respectively, coffee and Mabel juice spiked with ground-up caffeine pills. Stan had a bandage on one arm. They looked exhausted. Their wrists were still handcuffed.

"Oh, you know—" Stan yawned, "—just... full of vim and vigor today."

Dipper surveyed them, tried not to laugh when he saw the cuffs, and asked, "Did you guys even get any sleep?"

Stan grunted and looked at Bill to field that one.

Bill said, "By the looks of it, more than you two did." Dipper's and Mabel's hair were tangled messes, and their clothes were stained with dirt and grass. Dipper looked like he'd fallen on his side into a mud puddle. "How'd the monster hunt go?"

"Partial success!" Mabel said. "The thing that was stealing Pacifica's alpacas came back and we froze its leg! We followed it back to its forest lair and rescued the alpacas! Including Giorgio!"

"The anomaly got away, though," Dipper said, more to himself than anyone else. "But how? It was ten feet tall, it couldn't have hidden. Unless it was... abducted, maybe? In some invisible space ship...?"

Bill rolled his open eye. "Hey—how many of the alpacas were shorn by the time you got to them?"

Mabel gave him a surprised look. "Everyone but Giorgio. How'd you know?"

"We don't need to know," Dipper said quickly. "We can figure it out on our own. C'mon, Mabel." He headed upstairs. Mabel shrugged apologetically, and followed after him.

Stan watched them go, then asked Bill, "So what did take the rich kid's exotic sheep?"

"Freak in the woods who really likes wool suits."

"Huh." Stan sipped his coffee. "It's not dangerous to the kids, is it?"

"Not as long as they don't try to film him." Bill picked up a strip of bacon, tiredly tried to stick it in his eye, sighed, and redirected it to the correct hole.

From upstairs, Mabel shouted, "What happened to our door?"

Stan winced. "Don't worry about it, sweetie! I'll fix it later."

Bill said, "We didn't clean upstairs, did we."

Stan tried to remember what all had been left behind. Bedsheet hanging out the window, teeth on the floor... "It's—it's fine. Those kids love mysteries."

"Ha. Yeah, the boy would probably just get mad if we told him what happened before he figured it out himself."

There was the faint sound of the vending machine opening. A moment later, Ford walked in with an empty mug of coffee. "You're up early," he said. "Did you sleep well?"

Bill gave Ford a sleepy smirk. "Aw, I didn't know you cared."

Ford shot Bill a glower, did a double take at the top hat, then shook his head and looked away. "I wasn't asking you. I hope you got a crick in your neck that lasts the rest of your life." (Bill laughed.)

Stan shrugged off the question. "Oh yeah, no problem. Got comfortable and didn't move all night."

"We barely even noticed the cuffs," Bill said, stifling a yawn. "Slept like babies."

Ford raised a skeptical brow. Still, he nodded and went to get coffee for himself. Stan had a broken umbrella hanging from the back of his chair; Ford assumed it was yet another confiscated weapon and picked it up to move somewhere Bill couldn't access it. "Well, I'm relieved that at least nothing weird happened last night."

"Yeah, nothing weird at all," Stan said.

"Most normal night of my life," Bill said.

There was a knock on the door. At this hour of the morning? Ford said, "I'll get that."

He answered the door.

On the porch was a haggard, slumped, very sad looking man in a white lab coat. Nearly on the verge of tears, he asked, "Can I please have my ability to open doors back? I—I had to sleep outside last night. So many bugs."

Ford stared at him. "Only the person who cast the spell can lift it. Just a moment."

He ducked into the kitchen, glared at Bill, and said, "'Slept like babies,' did you?"

Neither Bill's nor Stan's innocent smile was convincing.

Ford focused on Bill's mouth. "And where'd you get that tooth?"

"Ah." Bill looked at Stan.

Stan cleared his throat. "So the good news is, we've got a great story for your journal."

####

(And that concludes the tooth fairy arc! If you enjoyed it, I'd love hearing from y'all! I'm really proud of how this whole plot came out. Next week we start on the absolute stupidest plot arc you've ever seen.)

#bill cipher #human bill cipher #grunkle stan #(character tags for the fic itself; obviously they're not in the art lol)#gravity falls #gravity falls fic #gravity falls fanart #fanart #my art #my writing #bill goldilocks cipher

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littledollll · 4 months

Note

Hii! Could I request something with Lucifer? Just really need comfort:>

Ok, so, could you please make something where Lucifer finds R wandering around hell, looking scared, and they pick r up, and takes care of them? -🪩

Company

Lucifer Morningstar x little!shy!reader

A/n: took me a little while to finish, I hope you enjoy<3 happy New Year’s Eve everyone🎉

Warnings: none

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It wasn’t every day that a child would be seen wandering the dark paths of hell all alone, or at all. It was too dangerous for that, the demons often get bored or blood thirsty.

“And what might you be doing wandering these parts, little one?” A smooth, almost sweet voice calmed every part of you. Your heart seemed to suddenly and finally settle. And you couldn’t understand why.

You heard them practically comand away every being around you. You hadn’t even noticed the amount of them near you. It was scary how they could lurk in the shadows and go unnoticed.

You turned to see a tall figure looming over your stature. They looked intimidating but had a soft, welcoming smile on their lips.

“I.. I’m-“

“Were these demons pestering you? I apologize for them, sweet. They don’t know how to treat guests properly. Not to worry, they won’t bother you again.”

Not knowing quite how to respond to their light scolding, you shyly looked down, to your hands, fidgeting anxiously.

“Oh it’s alright, small one.. I’m Lucifer.” They introduced themselves with a charming tone and held a hand out for you. “Perhaps I could accompany you to a much safer place?”

Lucifer lowered to your level, making them look a little less intimidating. “You are far too little to be out here all alone, sweet angel.”

They smiled brightly as you reached for their hand, but instead of holding your own they picked you up into their arms, making you gasp in surprise. They chuckled.

“Indeed a very small one.. I wonder what brings you here.” They spoke to themselves more than you once they noticed they weren’t getting much information from you.

You laid your head on their shoulder as they walked. It was odd, you felt like you could trust them blindly, yet it didn’t feel all that blind. This wasn’t a random mysterious being, to you, at least.

You couldn’t even feel the steps they took, as if the ground beneath them was much softer than you remember. Or as if they were weightless against it.

“Well, little one… it seems you’re keeping me company for the time being, until we find out where you came from, hm? Don’t worry. We’ll keep you safe.”

“..we?” you spoke so quietly Lucifer almost missed it.

“You can speak!” A smile was clear in their voice. “Are you shy?..” you nodded.

“That's okay, there’s nothing wrong with being a little shy. However, a little inside as to where you’re from would be helpful.” They stated, sounding more like a question.

You shook your head, giggling as you laid your head on their shoulder again. Lucifer sighed.

“I can’t help but feel as if this is intentional. Am I perhaps welcoming a trap disguised by a child into my home?” Again, you shook your head.

“You wouldn’t tell me if I was anyways.” They said, amused.

It’s not much of a concern for Lucifer. There are very few who would dare try to mess with them in any sort of way, and even fewer that pose any sort of danger to them.

“You asked who’s ‘we’… I have a very close friend, who often helps me with all types of tasks. See I’m good at many things, but I don’t think I’d be very good at taking care of a little one such as yourself.”

“is okay..” you mumbled, and Lucifer chuckled at that. It sounded like you were trying to reassure or even comfort them over it. But wasn’t it their job to take care of you?

“I know you won’t be any trouble.” They hoped, really.

“no no trouble!” Your said in more of a cheery voice, and Lucifer nodded along.

“You know.. you’re good company, little one.”

The world around them seemed to have light up. The shadows that seemed to lurk and follow you disappeared. The heavy fog that made your bones chill with a fear of the unknown. It all faded away as the kind Devil welcomed you into their home, as if you were one of their own.

#🪩 anon #lucifer sandman #the sandman #cg! lucifer sandman #lucifer morningstar the sandman #the sandman agere #gwendoline christie #little angel (lucifer x little!reader)#cg! sandman lucifer #Agere fic #sandman lucifer x reader #little angel

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goodluckclove · 5 days

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You Don't Need an Agent! Publishers That Accept Unsolicited Submissions

I see a few people sayin that you definitely need an agent to get published traditionally. Guess what? That's not remotely true. While an agent can be a very useful tool in finding and negotiating with publishers, going without is not as large of a hurdle as people might make it out to be!

Below is a list of some of the traditional publishers that offer reading periods for agent-less manuscripts. There might be more! Try looking for yourself - I promise it's not that scary!

Albert Whitman & Company: for picture books, middle-grade, and young adult fiction

Hydra (Part of Random House): for mainly LitRPG

Kensington Publishing: for a range of fiction and nonfiction

NCM Publishing: for all genres of fiction (YA included) and nonfiction

Pants of Fire Press: for middle-grade, YA, and adult fiction

Tin House Books: very limited submission period, but a good avenue for fiction, literary fiction, and poetry written by underrepresented communities

Quirk Fiction: offers odd-genre rep for represented and unagented authors. Unsolicited submissions inbox is closed at the moment but this is the page that'll update when it's open, and they produced some pretty big books so I'd keep an eye on this

Persea Books: for lit fiction, creative nonfiction, YA novels, and books focusing on contemporary issues

Baen: considered one of the best known publishers of sci-fi and fantasy. They don't need a history of publication.

Chicago Review Press: only accepting nonfiction at the moment, but maybe someone here writes nonfiction

Acre: for poetry, fiction and nonfiction. Special interest in underrepresented authors. Submission period just passed but for next year!

Coffeehouse Press: for lit fiction, nonfiction, poetry and translation. Reading period closed at time of posting, but keep an eye out

Ig: for queries on literary fiction and political/cultural nonfiction

Schaffner Press: for lit fiction, historical/crime fiction, or short fiction collections (cool)

Feminist Press: for international lit, hybrid memoirs, sci-fi and fantasy fiction especially from BIPOC, queer and trans voices

Evernight Publishing: for erotica. Royalties seem good and their response time is solid

Felony & Mayhem: for literary mystery fiction. Not currently looking for new work, but check back later

This is all what I could find in an hour. And it's not even everything, because I sifted out the expired links, the repeat genres (there are a lot of options for YA and children's authors), and I didn't even include a majority of smaller indie pubs where you can really do that weird shit.

A lot of them want you to query, but that's easy stuff once you figure it out. Lots of guides, and some even say how they want you to do it for them.

Not submitting to a Big 5 Trad Pub House does not make you any less of a writer. If you choose to work with any publishing house it can take a fair bit of weight off your shoulders in terms of design and distribution. You don't have to do it - I'm not - but if that's the way you want to go it's very, very, very possible.

Have a weirder manuscript that you don't think fits? Here's a list of 50 Indie Publishers looking for more experimental works to showcase and sell!

If Random House won't take your work - guess what? Maybe you're too cool for Random House.

#writing community #writeblr #on writing #writers on tumblr #authors of tumblr #queer writers #poc writer #trans writers #ya author #writing tips #writing resources #writing inspiration #writers supporting writers

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ambermotta · 4 months

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Working with Dragons — My POV

When you look up "draconic magick" or "dragon magick" there is not really a lot to read. In fact, a lot of the info you'll find looks like a copy-paste from one another.

So I thought I would bring my own insight into what working with dragons feels like to me. Not exactly an informative post, just a "personal experience" one.

I believe it is important for newcomers to read about variety of experiences because otherwise, they might start feeling their practice is "wrong" if things are different for them.

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If it wasn't clear already...

UPG WARNING!!!

This is my experience only, other practitioners WILL have different takes on working with dragons.

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Regarding Identity

For the majority of my journey with dragons, I have only worked with one dragon. They reached out to me, but took me years to finally feel ready to work with them, and since I was still a bit insecure, I didn't really seek out other dragons.

By the way, I use they/them pronouns because I don't feel a particular gender signature coming from them.

They are strongly tied to energies of the ocean and I have only seen them as very serpent-like.

The other main dragon I have worked with, who showed up a lot later, is a dragon strongly associated with fire and protection, and his energy is mostly masculine from what I can tell.

As of now, this is what I can share about them. One of the things you'll see being talked about dragons is that you should not talk about the ones you work with unless they give you permission to, and for the most part, this has also been my experience.

They can be quite secretive — I had the ocean dragon very often remind me to stay quiet about the work I'm doing, and be very careful about what I share. Not just about them, but about myself.

Some things need not be secret forever, but when they ARE supposed to be done quietly, I will get the nagging, almost intrusive feeling, of keeping my mouth shut whenever I am itching to say something I shouldn't.

They have also shown to be secretive when we work together, as in I'm instructed to do something a certain way but not told why until the work is done.

And I understand why afterwards.

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Demanding?

From all dragons I have worked with, they have always been quite insistent. Be it regarding how something should be done, how to behave, or on what to get.

Please do not misinterpret this as being pushy or forcing boundaries.

What I mean is that some spiritual beings can be very subtle with their messages when they want to tell you something... But for me, dragons aren't subtle. They keep sending signs and messages until I get it.

by Kou Takano

As for being demanding, it depends on your relationship with them.

They were not demanding at first because I was still unsure of what I wanted, but once I decided to commit, they definitely started communicating more and giving instructions on work we should do together.

So there's a greater degree of commitment that we both respect.

As for being "demanding" with offerings, to me they seldom ask for those. If I do it it's because I want to, not because they have asked or shown they needed it. In terms of spiritual beings I have met, they seem to be the least interested in offerings or praise. But again, this is just my experience.

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Personality

It can vary drastically from one dragon to another.

For me, the Ocean Dragon is serene, regal, mysterious, but standing in their presence can also feel scary and can make you feel small. They also have a more turbulent side.

The fire dragon feels much more assertive, fierce, loyal, but at the same time less "massive" in size and less intimidating somehow. They remind me of a knight or paladin archetype to be fair.

by Carolina-eade on Deviantart

So I assume that personality and energy signature, as well as your relationship with them, will change drastically from one dragon to another.

I have not experienced finicky, prideful, or petty behaviour from them. Dragons are often considered in media and mythology to have big egos, but to me, they feel the exact opposite... wise and humble, but their presence is so massive I feel one must be very careful not to mistake their good disposition for weakness.

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Conduct when working with dragons

I find that while they are wondrous and inspiring, their energy can feel intimidating, and maybe because of that I feel like I must be more serious when working with them. I am not necessarily being formal around them, but I do have a great deal of respect for them and other creatures in their presence.

It feels more like respecting the elders than an authority figure though.

As for magical conduct, I have never had to work with them on anything that did harm to others. In fact, they have heavily aided me in works that focused on helping others.

They have also helped me through my fair share of shadow work. So, both right and left hand path.

You may see some folks claiming that dragons have no qualms with helping mages with "dark magic" and that you actually must work on keeping balance, "working on both sides of the coin" if you will.

They have never demanded that of me, though I recognize it could just be in respect for my decision of not wanting to do most baneful work.

I can't say I fully understand their nature and moral compass yet.

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Types of Dragons

So far, they seem to come in all sorts of shapes. The traditional western-type dragon is far from being the only one or the most common one. Some may look much more like snakes or birds than to winged lizards.

I can see some elemental associations, but I don't think they are restricted to working with just one element.

Unfortunately, since I don't know many dragons, I am not sure if they are always tied to an element or how many types there are.

However, the ones I met did seem to "dwell" in certain environments. The ocean dragon I only see in water, and the fire dragon I have seen on top of a rocky hill, looking down a vast, dry, sunny field.

As for dragon guardians of the elements, directions, etc – I haven't met them, haven't worked with them, so I don't know if there is such a thing.

by Kou Takano

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Mythological Dragons

I have not met a lot of people who worked with widely known dragons, such as Tiamat, Fáfnir from norse mythology, or Yamata-no-Orochi from japanese tales.

But I feel working with them would be a singular experience, just as it is with any other dragon (or spiritual being for that matter). It could be easier considering you would have at least an idea of who they are and what they may like, either from "lore", ancient worship, or SPG (Shared Personal Gnosis).

This is still something I'm thinking about exploring in the future.

Fáfnir, found on Harreira.com

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Conclusion

This was just an overview of what working with them feels like to me. I'm definitely not as experienced as some other folks I've talked to, and my practice is constantly constantly evolving.

So far, it's been great! I'd love to hear from other people on draconic magick.

If you have any questions, feel free to ask! Or share your experiences as well!

Thank you for reading!

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