#But you don't expect strangers to read your journals

[oreoambitions]

Sometimes I contemplate taking a day and purging my Tumblr of things that make me cringe but then I figure what's the point of any of us pretending we never had anything to grow out of ykwim

[golbrocklovely]

cultish love // colby brock

A/N: first off, so sorry for this being so late, i had a lot of things i had to edit about this fic. also this is my longest fic ever ! like the other fic before this, this is a AU version of colby… where he, you guessed it, is a cult leader. and he is also corrupt (but like aren't all cult leaders). again this deals with some possible heavy themes, so give a good read of the trigger warnings before reading ahead. i've always joked about colby being able to lead a cult, and that's basically where this idea came from. this fic also took a turn i wasn't expecting, but i like it anyway. also the first half is written as a journal entry (all italized) and then the rest is an actual fic (not italized). lmk what you think, and happy haunting !

prompt: you're a journalist, and your next big story is on the 'empathic love' cult, led by none other than colby brock. this cult is not known well, but you are getting a first hand look at them and what they do. and quickly, colby takes a liking to you. || fem!reader x AU!cult leader!colby brock

trigger warning: SMUT, no actual sex but you do get mentally fucked (it will make sense in the story), cult vibes all around, love bombing, cursing, supernatural powers, colby is very intense and kinda scary but also still his charming self, slight dubcon similar in vain to sam's story - you never say no outright, but you do have general feelings of 'wtf is this, idk if i like' so if that's too much for you, feel free to read something else :), colby's aura is crazy good at giving you visions, strangers-to-soulmates?? don't know if that's a tag lol, also…. colby's technically bisexual in this????? but like barely

word count: 8610

I've been a reporter for only five years, and this story.... it could make or break my career. Cults aren't as prevalent as they once were way back when. They still exist, just in the shadows. A lot quieter on most fronts. Usually disguised as a business or religion, for tax reasons of course. But this cult, Empathic Love, is unlike any cult I've heard of.

Of course, they don't call themselves a cult, but that's what they are. How else would you describe a bunch of randos following one man around wherever he goes?

They only started so many years ago, right before I graduated university. The main founder, Colby Brock, is a pragmatic individual, according to his followers. The cult began blowing up in my town a little over two years ago, and now people flock from all over the world to visit the Love Compound. You would think it's Disney World the way people grow excited about it.

But I am here to get to the truth of this cult. What is their motive? What are they planning to do? Will this be another Waco or Heaven's Gate? What sinister beliefs hide underneath the modern-day hippie aesthetic they show?

These notes will document everything I experience for the next couple of days. And in case I go missing, these are my proof of who's to blame.

I don't think it will go that far, but you can never be too sure.

~~~~

Day 1 - Investigation

I'm still incredibly surprised I was allowed to come onto the Love Compound. The leader himself apparently reached out to my boss and told them that they wanted someone to come down and interview the group. They allow visitors from time to time, "new recruits" as some of the townspeople call them, but reporters have never been allowed in. Not once. Until me.

Driving up to the compound was nerve-wracking. I never imagined I would be nervous; I've interviewed plenty of criminals in my years, have done full blown investigations into scary, horrifying crimes. But something about this place freaked me out. Partially because I didn't know what I was getting into. But another part of me, and I will never admit this out loud, felt... at home.

The only promise I made to myself was I wouldn’t drink any kool-aid while there. So, I plan to stick to that. Pretend my previous statement never existed.

I was greeted by a beautiful woman when I got there: Avery. No one went by last names. And some apparently changed their names altogether, which was not surprising. My guess is there were most likely criminals hanging out amongst the group. But I had no proof of that, just a hunch. It easily could be a safe haven for those wanting to escape whatever life they had before.

The compound was three Victorian style mansions connected to each other and had a decent size farm attached - about 222 acres. Avery told me about all of the vegetables and chickens they farmed. Everything was organic and used up as often as possible. Anything that couldn't be eaten or produced too much for the only 100ish people in the compound, was sold at the farmer's market or given away to the local food bank. Avery explained to me very clearly that everyone in the compound chipped in one way or another. Some still worked normal jobs, but just lived here with everyone. But she noted that Colby hoped in the near future no one would have to work at all and they would be self-sufficient in a couple years.

A cult with future plans? Almost unheard of.

I told Avery that I was given an all-access pass to ask anything I wanted to, and nothing I asked could be ignored or deflected. She agreed to an interview. I recorded all of it, but here are the highlights of what I gathered.

I asked her why Colby was such a secretive man. There were very few photos of him that did exist out there, but all that was rumored about him was his alluring eyes and generally attractive presence. She agreed that he was handsome, describing his as having "ocean blue eyes" and his voice was to die for. "Deep and arousing", as she explained.

I noted that she seemed almost lost in thought at the idea of him, like she was envisioning him directly in front of her. Strange behavior; but not for a cult follower. Many end up falling in love with their leader, believing they have a genuine relationship with said person.

I bought up the name of the group, Empathic Love, and said it felt a little too inviting. She laughed and told me that it was right on the money - the best way to describe why everyone was there. She expressed to me that so many of Colby's followers wanted peace and love and light, and that being in this group felt like that. It was rewarding to be surrounded by those that cared and wanted to see each other succeed. Life outside the walls of the compound was rough, scary, draining; but inside, it was all love.

Call me cynical, but I don't believe that for a second. It took all the strength I had to keep from rolling my eyes at her. But I could tell from her voice, her motions... she was telling the truth. Well, her truth.

I wanted to know what brought her here, so she spoke of her previous life. She was abused growing up, moved around a lot in foster care. She was almost homeless, and then one day she ran into Colby. He had just begun the Empathic Love group, and she just knew she had to stick with him. Her life immediately turned around the moment he was in her life. The adoration in her eyes told me a different story, so I pressed her - "are you and Colby... together?" She smiled and said no, but she knew that they were life partners before, just not currently.

Oh... so it's one of those types of cults.

She said that Colby doesn't have a second in command, wife, girlfriend, whatever. Everyone is equal and heard. He's just the face of the group, which is a bit ironic given even I have no clue what he looks like. I knew he was young, in his mid-20s. But other than that, no idea.

I needed to know, why stay? What keeps you here? A dreamy look came over her, like she had said this a million times before: "Colby. He is love, and that's all anyone could ask for."

Chills ran up my spine at the tone of her voice. It was dull, and her words sounded like a mantra, the way she said them so easily.

I wrapped up my interview with her, quiring if I was allowed to interview others. She said yes and began sending over random people one-by-one to me.

If I hadn't gotten chills from her first, I would have from everyone else. Something about seeing everyone saying similar things, smiling happily, like the ship isn't sinking around them was eerie. It made my stomach churn when I would ask questions I already asked Avery, and get almost the same speech back.

I interviewed about 15 people. All variety of ages and genders. I suddenly realized that there were no children around, and everyone was over the age of 21.

Consenting adults… minus the supposed brainwashing.

A couple of the interviewees stuck out to me:

Penelope, 25. Her upbringing was similar to Avery's, but she still kept in contact with her family. Apparently, she wasn't the only one like that either. Many still kept in touch and even visited their loved ones. I asked her to describe Colby, tell me anything about him. She giggled, almost like a schoolgirl, and began to weave such a story about him. He was kind and caring. His smile was contagious, just like his laugh. And his singing voice was fantastic. She talked about him like he was a boy band member, and she was his biggest fan. I asked her to give one word to describe him, and she said "Love. He is love, and that's all anyone could ask for."

Greg, 36. He had fallen into rough times, and desired a fresh start. He had heard about this group online, and figured checking them out while he was in town wouldn't hurt. And that was a couple years ago. I wondered why he didn't feel weird listening to someone that was younger than him, and he shrugged. It was nice not having eyes on him. He loved being in a wallflower, and he believed that Colby deserved all the love he got from everyone in the group. Every ounce he got was ten-folded back into the group. Greg had never felt so connected to a group of people and he knew it was all thanks to Colby. "He brought love into my life like I never have had it before. Because that's who he is: love."

Heather, 29. She mentioned how for most of her life she felt like shit. Her confidence was at an all-time low when she met Colby. He encouraged her to keep at it, to love herself and find happiness everywhere. And by spending more and more time with him, she did. She has never felt more confident about herself, her life, her direction, and Colby is the reason for that. The tone that took over her voice when she bought him up was odd. It was very similar to a partner describing the love of their life, almost like wedding vows. I asked her haphazardly about her love life, how that was going for her. And she told me she had been on many dates - something she never used to do back when she was younger or before Colby. But she did note that regardless of who she ends up with, she knows that a part of her heart will always belong to Colby. They were connected, forever. "Love and light and happiness is what I desired, and I got it - all because Colby exists in my life now."

It felt like I was getting nowhere with some of these interviews. Many said the same thing, Colby being love and light and blah blah blah. I wanted someone that wasn't gonna just quote to me whatever mantra he made them learn. And luck was on my side, because I was able to interview their newest member, Ash. They were 23, and very beautiful. There was an almost smugness about them, like they knew they were the shiny new toy on the block. The confidence only a young 20-something year old could have.

I asked them, point blank, about Colby. Be brutally honest. They told me he was hot, and that's what drew them to him. They liked the idea of living in a group setting, especially since they grew up with many brothers and sisters. They liked helping out, and they liked knowing that Colby was keeping an eye on them the most recently. I then followed up with how long it took for them to join the group. "Three days. That's how long it takes for everyone."

I questioned them about the "Colby is love" thing, and they agreed it was a bit strange, but they couldn't help but feel the same way as everyone else. They were like a moth to a flame when it came to him. Everything about him was hypnotizing, entrancing. It was like staring at the sun; even though you knew to look away, you just couldn't help it.

Then I had to know: were they sleeping with him? Most of these cults feed off of the leader fucking every person they wanted to and leaving other members high and dry. But for some reason, it felt as if Colby was sleeping with everyone with the way they all talked about him. Ash dissented, saying no one was sleeping with him. He didn't sleep with any of his followers. But they all shared a deep, sensual mental connection with him. They felt like, sometimes, he was in their soul. And that sensation alone was euphoric, bordering on orgasmic. They also knew that in another life, they would have been together, similar to what Avery said.

It was then I knew that this group was clinically insane, or just really infatuated by what Colby was selling. It had to have been some crazy brainwashing. But it was odd; people were allowed to leave, to see loved ones, to have lives outside of the compound walls. Hell, some had dating lives that included those not here! That's unheard of, and completely stupid on Colby's part if he wants to keep things going.

A cult leader that wanted to watch his world implode.... I had to meet him. I had to meet the myth that was Colby Brock. And tomorrow I get my chance to.

~~~~

Day 2 - Interview with Colby

I feel the need to explain that these are my notes, not really meant for anyone else to see. And really, the only reason anyone would be seeing this is if I disappear or got murdered.

So, I say all of that just so I know, for myself, that this is a safe space for me to express my truest emotions and thoughts after interviewing Colby.

And all I can say, honestly, is that... I get it. I understand it now.

I felt my nerves hit their break last night before going to sleep, unable to stop my mind reeling from what was to come. I ended up bringing along a bodyguard, or really a photographer. I had known Trey since I started working as a journalist, and I knew I could rely on him to get us out of the Empathic Love compound if anything went south. I wasn't sure what I was up against when I went to interview Colby, but God... I didn't think I was so underprepared.

I met him in his office, Avery walked me over to it. It was up in the attic of the third house. It overlooked the entire property with wide windows. For an attic, I expected it to feel dark and dusty, but surprisingly it was light and airy. Almost like being out in the woods and taking a deep breath.

Colby was sitting in his main office chair. He spun around to see us, a light smile on his face. I'll be honest - I was taken aback by his beauty. I understood Ash's whole spiel about him being attractive and looking at him was like looking at the sun. It was intense. He was intense. His blue eyes bore into me, almost like they could see through me. I felt chills, but they weren't of fear. It was out of... excitement, of awe.

He greeted me, giving me a warm handshake. I hate to admit that I almost blushed at the sound of him saying my name. I had to take a couple deep breaths before starting. Avery left the room, and Trey sat outside the door, in case of backup.

I recorded our interview, knowing that I couldn't keep track of everything he said. But listening back to it now, his voice.... it's like a song. A beautiful, spellbinding song. I could almost fall asleep to it....

I asked him about his life, and how he came to be a leader for a group like Empathic Love. He spoke of his upbringing lightly, barely scraping the surface. He talked about growing up pretty normally, having a loving family, a great friend group, and then one day realizing that he could make a change in the world. That many people loved him and loved being around him. And that's when he knew that if he could make their lives better, he would. So, he started Empathic Love. Originally, it was just gonna be a safehouse for those that needed it. But then more and more people joined and suddenly, it grew into what it was today.

I asked where his family was now. "In Kansas," he told me. He said nothing further than that.

He humbly spoke of all the love he received from his followers, or his "friends" as he put it. They all cared about him in a way that he only wished he could return tenfold. I questioned him about the whole "Colby is love" thing. "How come everyone says almost the exact same thing, like they've been brainwashed into saying it?" He didn't even trip over his words as he spoke matter-of-factly to me. "I didn't come up with that phrase, they did. You would have to ask them. I take it as the highest form of a compliment, truly. I'll be honest, it's a bit embarrassing at times when they call me that, but I can't help what they do. I appreciate their love, nonetheless."

I continued asking him about different topics, until finally reaching the one I was most intrigued about. "How many of your followers - excuse me - friends, have you slept with?" He smirked, smirked, at me and said "None. Did any of them tell you that we slept together?"

"No, but the way they talk about you like the sun shines out of your ass does seem a bit odd, don't you think?"

He looked unphased. God, he had an answer for everything. "I'll be honest with you, some of my friends might be in love with me. But I make it abundantly clear that while I love them, and love their love, I don't have feelings for them. I'm still looking for the one."

I remember holding back a glare, "So, you're celibate?"

"Now, I never said that." He let out a chuckle, then his eyes darkened. "Why do you care so much about my sex life? Unless of course, you want to join it."

I tried ignoring his gaze and his words but stuttered through my next question. “Then who exactly is the right one for you, if it's not one of your followers or friends?”

It took him a while to answer, he even closed his eyes for a bit. He sat up once he knew, sauntering over to his window that overlooked it all. "I imagine the one for me is someone that will bring peace to me and my life. Someone that for all my faults, can see who I am truly deep down. She will love me, and I will worship her. I will show her what true love feels like. Our souls will be one, because they always have been."

Something strange came over me. I don't know why I said it, but I uttered, "What about looks?"

Who cares about looks! Why did I ask about looks? I was a serious journalist, not a reporter for Star Magazine!

He looked over his shoulder at me, "Looks aren't that important to me. What matters is mind and soul. Who you are deep down. But if I had to pick… someone like you. I feel someone like you would be a perfect fit around here."

I wanted to give him the sassiest voice and rebuttal I could muster, but deep down I was shaking. Energy raced through my body, like I had been electrified.

He kept his back to me, staring out the window. “I'm not trying to be overly complimentary. I'm just being honest. But I can tell that you would do so well to have us around. To have... me, in your life. I bring a lot of love to people's lives, that's for sure. But I also bring a lot of drive, and passion, and intimacy.”

Intimacy?

“People open up when I'm around. They tell me everything, even things they never dreamt of telling another person. And I allow it, because clearly, they needed to express it. And once they do, it's like the floodgates open. Love and light just start pouring into them, into their life, and it's overwhelming - but so worth it. Doesn't that sound nice?”

I guess so...

“I bring happiness to so many. My friends have told me that they get jittery around me, I'm like a shot of adrenaline. And that energy, that power, courses through them. And when it gets expressed, it comes out in…” He took a long pause, turning back to me. The look in his eyes… I can remember it as if he was still in front of me. “Pleasurable ways.”

I hate admitting this, and it's embarrassing to say it even now, but I felt a jolt of... something, run through me. I won't even say what it was out loud, in fear of never being taken seriously again. But what happened after that, I don't know if words can even express it well.

Colby continued talking, but I couldn't pick up on any of it. He was talking up a storm, but I couldn't help the sensations I was feeling. Even in my wildest of fantasies, I've never felt anything in reality. It was all in my mind. But in that very moment, it felt like it was happening to me.

I felt lips tread up my neck, stopping just below my ear. A hot, low moan breathed into my ear. My spine tingled at the sound, my hands gripping the armrests of the chair. If I didn't know any better, I would think Colby was behind me, making those noises. My hands suddenly felt hands on top of them. My eyes widened, looking down, but nothing was there. I couldn't really move my arms once the invisible hands were there. My whole body felt numb and heavy, relaxed. My mind was the one on edge, worried as to why I was feeling all of this.

I hadn't eaten or drank anything at the compound. Maybe it was being poured into the room by the vents? I don't know, but something was making me feel this way.

The invisible hands drifted up my arms, massaging my shoulders for a moment. My head lulled back, almost hitting the back of the chair. My mind was on high alert, but my body was about ready to fall asleep. The hands relaxed me so much that my eyes began to flutter.

But then... they drifted down my torso. They traced along my neck gently, drawing small, insignificant patterns. The hands grew lower and lower until they finally were on my chest. I felt the hands cup my breasts softly, my breath hitching in my throat. They kneaded my tits gingerly, my nipples hardening in my bra. I bit my lip, praying that I wouldn't make a sound. It was hard not to, especially when the delicate fingers of these invisible hands found my nipples, gently pinching them.

I remember closing my eyes tight. Trying to clear my mind. This wasn't actually happening to me. There was no way. This was a psychosis or a drug hallucination that was happening to me and Colby was doing nothing about it.

One hand drifted down my body, stopping right above my sex. I suddenly became very aware at how wet I was, my eyes widening. I felt a rush of blood flow through my cheeks. I was about to get caught. These invisible hands made me wet, and I couldn't stop them.

And the terrible thing was, I didn't want them to. I wanted them to finish the job. To get me off... in front of Colby. One hand rose back up my body, grabbing my neck and turning my face to look up at him.

A deep voice whispered harshly, "You want him, don't you?"

I didn't say anything, afraid of what would come out. But deep down, I knew.

"Say it, and it's yours. Say you want him. And he'll have you... forever."

I opened my mouth. I felt the words almost leave my lips. I stuttered out something. I closed my eyes, my body feeling high.

And then in a split second, it was all gone. The room grew quiet, and Colby cleared his throat. "Y/N, are you okay? You look flush."

I jolted out of my seat, being able to move freely again. I looked around and realized Colby was sitting once more, staring at me concerned. I finished the interview abruptly, saying I had everything I needed - even though I definitely didn't. And then he uttered words I wish I didn't hear.

"If you want, come back tomorrow. We are having a celebration here. I would love if you came by, even if for an hour."

I nodded, not even really taking in what he said, and left. Trey was confused as to why I bum-rushed out of the room, but I never told him the truth. How could I?

I knew deep down I shouldn't have said yes to go to the party. But getting that footage would be killer for my article. Interviews are great, but a party at a cult compound? That's bound to end terribly (for Colby, but great for me).

But something in me can't shake this feeling that I basically signed myself up for the end. End of what? I'm not sure. But I'll find out tomorrow.

~~~~~~

Stepping back onto the compound made my heart race. I was nervous as all hell, and just wanted this day to be over with already. Today was my last day doing this story. I was counting the minutes to when I could go back to my office and write about how this place was insane, or whatever narrative I planned to write.

I had enough proof that something was up here. All I needed to do was a bit more digging. And during the party is when I planned to do it.

Avery walked up to me, smiling brightly. "Hey, Y/N! How are you doing today?"

"I'm okay. I know it's a bit early, but Colby never specified when the party was going to take place." I replied.

"No, you're totally fine. The party is gonna happen later. Right now, though, we have something going on that you'll definitely want to see." She clapped excitedly.

"Oh? And what is that?" I questioned.

"We are inducting a new member!" she exclaimed giddily. "There's a whole process that we do, and everyone is involved. I imagine that will bode well for your article if you see it firsthand. It's all taking place in that tent."

I stared over at the huge tent, its plastic cover doors strangely inviting.

I hummed, "Sure, I'll be there in a moment."

Avery nodded, turning on her heels and prancing over to the tent, following in other members.

"What's happening in there?" Trey asked.

"Apparently they are inducting someone new into their cult." I informed him.

He blinked. "Group, you mean."

I rolled my eyes, "Yeah, whatever. Make sure to capture as much as you can."

He shook his camera, giving me a wink, "On it."

We both walked in, many members still up and around, giving everyone hugs and chatting. Avery waved me down, patting the seat next to her. I walked over and sat. My body tingled in anticipation. I wasn't sure what was going to happen. My breathing picked up as everyone grew silent, the doors opening. Colby walked in, and people rushed to their seats.

Colby called out, "Hello everyone, good morning."

"Good morning, Colby." Everyone said in unison.

Jesus, that was creepy.

"A lot of things are going to be different today. First, we have guests watching our festivities. Y/N and Trey. Everyone, give them a hand." He gestured to the two of us.

The tent exploded in applause, Avery evening rubbing my back sweetly. It felt like I was being congratulated on something I didn't achieve, my cheeks flushing at the acknowledgement.

"And secondly, sadly, the new member we were going to have decided not to stay." He frowned, his face dropping.

Members gasped, some audible "oh no" echoed around the tent. Colby nodded his head sympathetically. “I know, but fret not. I think this will be a learning experiment for our new guests. We can still do our traditional motions of having someone join us. But, imagine it as if it's a mock ceremony instead. Ms. Y/N, would you please step up here?”

My heart stopped when he looked into my eyes, the first time since yesterday. I glanced at Avery, who grinned enthusiastically. She pushed me out of my seat, my body following her lead. I gazed around, finding Trey, who pulled away from his camera with a concerned look. I stumbled up the walkway, stepping on stage with Colby.

Colby lowered his voice so I could only hear him, moving away from the microphone. "I know you wanted to know about how we induct someone into our little home, so I figured why not use you as an example? We aren't actually inducting you, in case you’re worried. This is just what would happen if you were joining. Are you okay with that?"

I gazed around the huge, white tent, making eye contact with many people in the audience. They all looked so eager, waiting to hear my response. Some were even shaking with excitement.

I stuttered, feeling Colby squeeze my hands to bring my attention back to him, "I-I guess so."

"Fantastic." He turned, still holding one of my hands, "Alright everyone, you know the drill."

The crowd cheered, suddenly many lining up to a microphone at the side of the stage. Colby lightly pulled me to a cushioned throne, sitting me down. "So here's what's going to happen. People are going to come up to that microphone, and they are going to give you plenty of love. Genuine love. And then the next person will go, and so on until everyone has spoken."

"Everyone here? Like, all hundred plus of you?" I whispered.

"Yes. It's gonna be a while, so get cozy." He laughed, rubbing my shoulders.

Time felt frozen as slowly everyone came up and said something nice about me. Some were quick, mostly just commenting on how nicely I dressed or how the stories I had covered in the past were interesting and thoughtful. But others, it's like they could see into my soul and point out the exact thing I was insecure about. Everyone was complimentary and it was nice, but exhausting.

The line had dwindled down, and the next person to speak was Avery.

She stepped up the microphone, giving me a huge smile. "Hi, Y/N. I know we don't know each other that well, but I feel like I've known you my whole life. These couple days of getting to know you, being interviewed by you, have just been the highlight of my life. You are such a lovely presence to be around, and you deserve all the success you've gotten these last couple years."

Lots of people in the crowd nodded, agreeing with Avery. She continued, taking a deep breath, "I wanted to add - you are so deserving of love. You are easy to love too, and I hope that you are surrounded by people that make you feel that way. I know that this is just a mock ceremony, but I truly believe you would be such a great addition to us. I know you don't trust us, but I hope that soon you will find that you have a safe place here. Even if you never come back here again. This is your home now, and forever will be."

My chest heaved suddenly, tears welling up in my eyes. What the fuck is happening right now? Why was I crying at what she said? Sure, it was sweet and kind, but... how did she know I needed to hear that?

I turned my head, wiping the tears before anyone could see them fall. The crowd clapped as Avery left, going back to her seat.

The last couple people were a blur, my mind still hanging onto Avery's words. Suddenly, a hand was placed on my shoulder, jolting me out of my thoughts. I gazed up, seeing Colby's beautiful face staring down at me.

"The ceremony is done. Now, time to party."

~~~~~~

It had been a couple hours since the ceremony, my body feeling almost numb but jittery all at the same time. It was hard to shake all the love and words that were thrown my way today. Sure, some were probably just lying and saying random things because they had to, because they were conditioned to. But it freaked me out how some just... hit the right spots, knew my insecurities.

The party itself was fine. Two of the houses had parties happening in them, and since all three houses were connected, you could leave one and walk into another. There was a dancefloor full of people, and multiple fully stocked bars. Tons of food was at each table. It honestly looked like an adult prom. But I wasn't in a partying mood. Trey, on the other hand, was enjoying himself immensely. Girls and guys surrounded him, laughing at his jokes and bringing him plates of food and wine. One girl kept rubbing his thigh, staring at him longingly.

I wanted to leave. I had had enough of today, and I just wanted to be as far away from Empathic Love as I could be. I decided fresh air was what I needed, so I got up and slid out the back door of one of the houses, taking a deep breath. There were still too many people around, but I noticed the last house, the one with Colby's office in it, had no lights on and no one around it. I walked through the yards, stopping once I was by the back porch of the third house.

I sighed, leaning back against a railing. I could still hear the party going on, almost getting louder now that I wasn't there. I shook my head, feeling overwhelmed.

“Hey, Y/N. Fancy seeing you here." Colby's voice broke through my thoughts.

I exhaled. “Hi, Colby.”

He cocked his head, “Are you doing okay? You seem... upset.”

I felt this sudden rush of anger, knowing in reality he was to blame for all of this. “No, I'm not doing alright. I want to go home, I'm extremely overwhelmed by this party and all the people around here. That ceremony was too much for me to deal with, and the only way for me to get out of here is Trey and he's getting rubbed down by your followers!”

He took a step back, putting his hands up defensively. “Woah, that was a lot. You must have needed that release.”

I glared, “You think?”

“Look, I get it. It's a lot to take in. I myself don't love going to all these parties. It can be really overwhelming and if I'm honest, it gives me a lot of anxiety,” he admitted casually.

“You get anxiety?” I scoffed, “How? Everyone here loves you.”

“I know. That's the stressful part!” He sat on the railing, turning to me. “I'm the leader of this family. I have to make all the right decisions, and sometimes that means upsetting some of the people closest to me. Not to mention, so many eyes are on me, and it's just all too much sometimes. Even if you think this group is a cult, I still care for everyone here. I make sure they are fed, have a job, and have a life outside of here. And that's a lot to take on.”

“How do you deal with all of it, then?” I questioned.

“Patience. And a lot of alone time when I can get it - through meditation, specifically,” he laughed. “I was actually going to go meditate before I found you. Would you like to join me?”

I shook my head. “No, I'm good.”

“Are you sure? Look, at the very least, it will get you away from the party and all the noise. You don't even have to join me, you can just... sit in the room with me while I do it.” He argued, shrugging his shoulders.

I gazed at the party, everyone had grew rowdier while we were talking, and I didn't even notice. But my head felt like it was spinning from the noise alone. I sighed, nodding my head. Colby smiled, opening the door to the house, and I walked in first. I followed him up to his office, sitting down on his couch as he sat in the center of the room on the floor.

I raised an eyebrow. “That's where you meditate?”

“Yeah, I know it's a bit silly. But I feel so much more grounded... on the ground.” He replied cheekily.

I snickered, sitting back and watching him. He crossed his legs, resting his palms on his knees. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He took multiple breaths until they were low and shallow. I furrowed my brow, my eyes never leaving his form.

It almost seemed like he was asleep, or in a hypnosis of some sort. He was completely still and silent. A dull glow appeared at the top of his head, growing brighter and larger. I leaned away from him, my eyes widening at the sight. What the fuck is that...?

An aura grew around him, surrounding him completely. He didn't move, unfazed by it. His eyes remained closed, and with each breath it grew.

"How... are you doing that?" I uttered, my mouth a gape.

"Doing what?" He spoke in a monotone voice.

"That... aura. How are you doing that?" I pressed.

“I've always been able to do it since I was young. You can get closer if you want to.” He suggested.

How did he know I was still far away?

I stepped off the couch, moving closer to him. I kept my distance, but the aura was almost pulling me in. It was beautiful, the light reflecting and growing bigger. I was almost engulfed by it, but it stopped right before getting to me. I could feel its warmth, its energy. It was calling to me, beckoning me to step towards it.

The aura wrapped around me, filling me with light and love. Or at least that's what it felt like. I gasped at the sensation, my legs shaking underneath me. I breathed in deeply, my lungs filling up with fresh air. I didn't feel like I was in the room anymore. I felt like I was flying, the world almost zooming around me.

“Let your body relax, Y/N. I know it's so much to take in.” Colby’s calming voice spoke.

I felt my body give out on me, falling onto the soft rug. I laid down on my back, staring up at the ceiling. Visions began to swirl in my mind and around me.

How is any of this happening?

He answered, reading my mind. “Because of me. Because of us. Because of the connection you and I share.”

My body felt very heavy, unable to move even if I wanted to. I could move my eyes, and out of the corner of them, I saw Colby stand up. The aura remained around us, almost engulfing the entire room.

“You know, I knew the moment you stepped foot on to the compound's grounds, you were going to like it here. You were going to stay.” He smiled sincerely, gazing down at my body.

I blinked, confused. “What? I-I don't plan to-“

He cut me off, “This is the final step, Y/N. Everyone gave you love, people celebrated you, and now... I'm allowing you in.”

I wanted to shake my head, but couldn’t. “But I don't want to join.”

He chuckled, “Yes you do. If you didn't want it, none of this would have worked on you. You wouldn't be seeing what is directly in front of your eyes.”

The visions morphed around me, suddenly showing Colby and I. But we weren't us, we were different people, at a different point in time. But I could feel it was us. We were in love, growing a family together. Our lives were beautiful.

What the fuck is this?

“That is our past, or present, or future,” he winked. “The thing is, Y/N, I never seek out anyone. They all seem to find me.”

“That's not true, you emailed my boss about being interviewed.” I remarked.

"Oh, you are so forgetful, Y/N. You emailed us, begging to interview me and anyone else that said yes. I only agreed because I knew you wanted to meet with me. You sounded very eager to join in your email." Colby pulled out a piece of paper, reading from it happily, "Dear whoever reads this, I'm hoping to score an interview with your group, Empathic Love, for an article I am writing. I would love to meet Colby, and really pick apart his brain on why he created said group. Maybe I could even join if you guys win me over. Please let me know if any of this sounds of interest to you. Sincerely, Y/N of Global Gazette."

He leaned down, staring into my eyes mischievously, "Now does that sound like someone that didn't want to be here?"

My heart raced, suddenly scared. “Why don't I remember writing that?”

“I couldn't tell you. All I know is you wanted to be here. And there's a reason for it.” He sat down on the ground next to me. I wanted to get up and run, but my body stayed still, heavy. “Growing up, I realized very early on that certain people just... gravitated to me. A lot of women, yes. But really it was anyone. And not only did they gravitate towards me, they became obsessed with me. At first, I was confused, uninterested in ever going through that. Who wants someone obsessed with them? But then I realized how much good I could do with so many people rallying behind me.”

He continued, “As I got older, my ability, or power, or whatever it is - grew twice as strong. Suddenly, all the people around me followed me, did anything and everything I could ask for. Then, I began getting visions, and I understood why this was the case. Everyone here: we had a past life together. Their souls and mine have always been connected. They find me and then continue to stay. And almost always, they fall in love with me. It's just so glorious.”

“You're insane.” I mumbled.

He hummed, “Interesting, especially since you’re seeing the same things I am.”

It was true. The whole time he spoke, I saw vision after vision of our past lives together. We were always destined to meet, destined to be with one another.

“But the thing is, I know you're different from all the rest. You and I, we are meant to be together forever. You are meant to love me forever, and I am meant to love you. That's why my abilities affect you so greatly.” Colby divulged.

“What if I say no? What if I want to leave?” I grunted, trying to shake free.

“You've had the ability to go all this time. You just don't want to. You know how much love I can give you. You know how much pleasure I can give you as well.” He bit his lip, his eyes snaking up and down my body, “You've known that since yesterday, haven't you?”

Blood rushed to my cheeks, memories of yesterday played in my head.

“And do you know what’s crazy about that? That's not even half the pleasure I can give you.” Colby kneeled next to me, a devilish smile on his lips. His hand lightly brushed my face, cupping my warm cheek sweetly.

A burst of arousal raced through me, my body spasming in ecstasy. “Oh my God!”

“I know, it's a lot to take in. But I just want to make you feel good, darling. You deserve it.” He leaned in slowly, “You are mine, after all.”

"This is what your followers meant by a deep and sensual mental connection," I groaned, feeling hands all over my body, touching me in the most lustful of ways. "You got inside their heads and mentally fucked them."

“...That's one way of wording it. But if they didn't trust me, if they didn't already want me, it wouldn't happen.” He winced playfully, “So in reality, it's your fault.”

“Fuck you.” I growled.

“But baby, that's what's happening,” Colby laughed darkly. “Those hands, those kisses and bites... that's all mine. I can tell you're losing it. You want me real bad, but you don't want to admit it. I get it, you’re overwhelmed.”

I felt like my body was getting electrocuted with pleasure. My hips grinded into the air, needing some form of relief. My nipples strained against my bra, wanting any form of touch. I closed my eyes tightly, embarrassment rolling through me as I felt my damp panties against my sex.

Fuck, he was right. I did want this, and him.

I didn't even need to say it out loud. Suddenly I felt a cock slid inside of me, too easily from how wet I had become. I ripped my eyes open, looking around. Colby was watching me from his chair, smirking.

He palmed his hardening dick through his jeans. “Imagine how much better it would be if I was actually inside of you, filling you up with every. fucking. inch.”

I thought about screaming Trey’s name. Maybe he could help me.

He grimaced, rolling his eyes. “He won’t do anything for you, sweetheart. He joined our group just a couple weeks ago. Right around the time you sent the email. So really, you have all the more reason to join us.”

“Even if I join this cult, I will never stay here. I will leave here and never come back.” I hissed.

“And that is your choice to make. But Y/N,” his gaze lowered at me, his eyes intense. “You will never be satisfied. You got barely a taste of what I can offer you, and you're gonna want it forever. Just like everyone else here.”

“You're a- fuuuuuucckk!” I moaned, the cock inside of me hitting my spot deeper. I caught my breath, glaring at him. “Y-You're a freak.”

“Says the girl almost coming to my invisible dick.” He spat, clenching his jaw.

I bit my lip, annoyed at how right he was. The hands exploring my body gripped my ass, slapping it lustfully.

“Okay, okay. I'll agree with you. I am a bit of a freak of nature. But let's not act like I'm some monster. I let people leave. But they always come back because they choose to. I can't force people that far. Pinky promise,” He stuck his pinky out, and I rolled my eyes defiantly. He huffed, “It's not like this place is Scientology, for Christ's sake. We are love. I am love.”

“You are the most tainted form of love that I've ever met.” I retorted, gripping the rug to hide my building arousal.

He deadpanned, “Ow. That hurt.”

Colby strutted over to me, laying down right beside me. The pleasure grew more intense, my hips bucking desperately. His one hand hovered over me, never touching me. It didn't matter, because having him this close felt like his whole body was on top of mine, fucking me hastily.

“If you allow yourself to enjoy this feeling, you might actually come. Because I won't force you to. I'll just keep you here, for hours, riving in pleasure until your brain melts into goo.” He smirked, “How's that sound?”

"I-I hate you." I gritted my teeth. Why did I feel like I was lying?

"No you don't. But soon you'll be able to admit the truth." He leaned his mouth in close, his voice low and sincere, "I know that this place might not be what you imagined your home to be like, but it is. You will always have a place here. You will always be loved here. And I know that's what you want deep down. To be loved unconditionally. To have every fiber of your being satisfied. And if you let me, I will do that. I will please you every night, however you want me to. But for me to do that, you have to let me in. You have to let love in."

The cock inside of me pounded faster and faster. I could barely think anymore. The only thing on my mind... was him. The lives we had together, the life we could be having. I knew I shouldn't want it, but I did. I wanted him in my life, forever. He was what was missing, and I couldn't live one more day without him.

I mewled loudly, my hips thrusting up erotically. Colby's hand cupped my face gently, turning my head to look him in the eyes.

His alluring eyes stared deep into mine, his jaw clenched. "You will always be mine. I am love, and that is all you could ask for."

"You are love, and that's all I could ask for." I repeated mindlessly, grabbing onto his arm desperately.

His face softened, “That's right baby. You're such a good girl for me. My good girl, forever. You want that, don't you?”

“Yessss, please Colby. I want to be yours forever.” I keened.

"You will be. I promise, you will always be mine." His eyes darkened, the pupils almost completely blown out. "You will never leave."

"I won't!" I trembled, my orgasm building closer and closer to the edge.

“You wanna come, Y/N? Get close for me. Don't I feel so good inside of you? You like when I do this?” Colby's hand snaked down my body, rubbing my clit sensually.

I begged wantonly, dying to come. "Pleaseeeeee! Please let me come! I need it! I need you."

"Of course you do, baby. You and I need each other. Our connection is unlike anyone else's. Tell me the truth and I'll let you come." He leaned in close, his lips brushing against my ear, "Tell me, baby. Say it..."

"I love you," I cried out, right on the edge. I direly wanted him to say it back, knowing it was already the truth.

“I love you too, baby,” he smiled sweetly, kissing my cheek. “Now, come for me.”

Hot, white pleasure shot through my body. I had the strongest orgasm of my life, my mind shattering as I rode every wave of pleasure that went through me. Colby stayed by my side, shushing me as my high lowered down more and more. He kept whispering 'I love you' repeatedly, my mind unable to hear or think anything else after a while.

I blacked out at some point but awoke when my body was lifted off the floor and placed softly into a bed. “Wha... happenin?” I slurred.

“Relax, darling. I just brought you to my bed. Well, our bed now,” he chuckled. “I want you to get your rest because tomorrow is a big day for you.”

“What's tomorrow?” I murmured.

“Your introduction to everyone as my soulmate.” Colby informed happily, tucking me in. “Everyone will be so pleased that you changed your mind about joining us.”

I nodded my head, snuggling deep into his bed. He dimmed the lights, whispering softly, "Welcome home, Y/N."

[sundeathh]

Could you do demon!aizawa x fem!reader where the reader inherited a house and while just looking through she found a spell book and didn’t realise it but what she read actually magicked the demon and maybe the he “flirts” with the reader since the readers gets flustered easily? (U can add or takeaway whatever u want) thank youuu ❤️❤️

Demon!Aizawa

Fem!Reader | Words: 2,2k

Masterlist | CW: Suggestive but still SFW.

In the dimly lit room of the old house you inherited, dust danced in the air as you sifted through the forgotten relics of the past. 

Amongst the aged books and trinkets, you stumbled upon an ancient and ornamented tome, its pages worn with time.

You held it delicately, the cover gleaming in the moonlight and the gold lettering shining with a soft radiance, almost ethereal. You ran your thumb across the delicate script, admiring the intricate craftsmanship of the workmanship. It was beautiful.

Its yellowish hue seemed to glow even in the dark of the room. It had been left behind by some old former owner that you now held within your hand. 

Curiosity getting the best of you, you flipped through the pages randomly, stopping at one where a drawing caught your attention. It depicted a man, standing tall in what could only be described as a throne, surrounded by creatures whose appearance contrasted with his own.

His skin was pale, his hair dark. His features were slender and elegant, and it was appealing. On the other hand, the creatures at his feet looked disfigured, looking impassively as he stared down at them all. 

You glanced at the small text written on the page next to the drawing, reading it aloud in a soft voice. 

Unbeknownst to you, the words you began to read sparked a dormant magic, summoning a mischievous demon into existence.

As the incantations left your lips, a mysterious energy enveloped the room, and a chill breeze blew your hair softly.

Suddenly, you felt a presence behind you, which watched as you read the journal from a distance. The feeling of being watched made you turn around, only to meet a pair of red eyes staring intently back at you. 

The figure wore nothing but black robes, his crimson eyes glued on yours, and a sly smirk graced his lips. Unfazed, he spoke, "Well, well, what do we have here? A summoning, and by accident, no less."

His voice was deep and smooth, resonating in the room. Your heart pounded against your chest as you tried to maintain your composure. You weren't exactly sure who or what this stranger was, but he certainly intimidated you. 

He looked exactly like the drawing in the book, except instead of appearing malevolent and demonic, he just looked… odd. And very handsome, actually. With his long ebony locks that flowed down over his shoulders, and his intense gaze that appeared to see right through you…

You felt your cheeks heating up.

He smirked, seemingly amused by your lack of hostility towards him. He sauntered closer to you, taking advantage of the fact that you didn't have any weapons at your disposal, making you feel vulnerable. 

"You must be quite skilled to summon a demon without even trying," he remarked, his tone suggestive. 

You swallowed nervously, "What do you mean? Who are you?"

He hummed, taking another step closer and running a finger along your cheekbone, "You don't look like you've done much studying of demons before…" he trailed off, "but let's not get ahead of ourselves, shall we? I would have expected nothing less of a young woman such as yourself."

You gasped, pushing him away. "Back off" you growled, clenching your fists.

He chuckled, "Oh ho, so feisty aren't we? I like feisty women. I'll have to keep you around, then."

"No! What business is it of yours? How did you even get here?!" You demanded, your voice quivering. You had no idea why this strange, gorgeous creature was stalking you around.

The demon's smirk widened, and he continued to circle you as if assessing a precious gem. "You, my dear summoner, have quite the talent. Not everyone stumbles upon my services unintentionally."

You glared at him, a mixture of fear and annoyance. "I didn't summon you for any services. I was just reading this old book I found."

The demon scoffed, "I doubt that, my lady, but it seems fate has decided otherwise." The demon's gaze intensified, and he leaned in, his lips dangerously close to your ear. "Fate can be a fickle thing, my dear. It brought you to me, and I intend to make the most of it."

You could feel his warm breath against your skin, and an involuntary shiver ran down your spine. This was unreal; you were in your own home, yet a supernatural being was making you feel both nervous and strangely intrigued.

"I must say, I'm impressed," he continued, his tone teasing. "Not every human can summon a demon, especially an inexperienced one like yourself." 

"Hey!" You yelped, stepping back, glaring at the demon. "You're just trying to scare me."

"My darling little Summoner," he cooed, moving slowly toward you, his eyes flicked down to your lips, then up again. "I have no intention to resort to intimidation tactics with you…"

The atmosphere grew thicker as his eyes held a mischievous glint. "But, if you insist on keeping things interesting, I'm more than willing to adapt to your preferences."

Your cheeks burned at his suggestive words, and you took another step back, creating more space between you. "I don't have any preferences, especially not involving demons."

He chuckled, low and throaty, enjoying the effect he had on you. "You say that now, my dear, but you summoned me. There must be something you desire deep down."

Your eyes narrowed, and you crossed your arms defensively. "I'm not playing your games. Just leave."

The demon tilted his head, studying you with a thoughtful expression. "Playing games? Oh no, this is just the beginning. As for leaving, why would I when I'm having such a delightful conversation with you?"

You huffed in frustration. "This isn't a conversation. This is you invading my personal space and making inappropriate remarks."

He grinned, unapologetic. "Personal space is overrated, and as for the remarks, I'm just stating the obvious. You summoned a demon, after all."

Your agitation grew, but you couldn't deny the strange allure of the situation. "I didn't mean to summon anyone. This is a mistake."

The demon's eyes softened for a moment, a hint of genuine curiosity breaking through his playful facade. "A mistake, you say? Well, mistakes can be quite fascinating, dear. They lead to unexpected discoveries."

You sighed, feeling a strange mixture of irritation and intrigue. "What do you want from me?"

He stepped back, giving you some breathing room. "For now, just a little bit of your time. I promise to make it worth your while."

You started flipping through the book again, searching for anything that might help you solve the problem you'd encountered.

The demon smirked once more. "You know what, I think I'll sit down." He said, sitting at a chair by a desk and crossing his legs, resting his elbow on the armchair, his hand suspending his head.

He observed you, watching every move you made to try and figure out whether you could send him away with one more spell. His ruby orbs roamed around your surroundings, taking in the old furniture around you. "You seem like a smart girl," he told you, "but that's not good enough to send me on my way." 

You frowned in confusion, and he smiled knowingly, "you will need more than simple spells to get rid of me."

"Why should I believe you?" You inquired. "How do I know that I won't die because you're going to drain me dry before I even know what happened?"

The demon chuckled, shaking his head. He stood up, walking toward you again. Your eyes followed his movement, refusing to let your guard down. The demon stopped before you, gazing at you from head to toe. "You may trust me or not. But either way, you are stuck with me for a while longer, my dear." 

The tension in the room seemed to ebb and flow with the demon's every movement. His confident demeanor, combined with the uncertainty of the situation, left you feeling both uneasy and strangely captivated.

As he circled you, you couldn't help but feel the weight of his gaze, as if he was unraveling the secrets hidden in the depths of your soul. The book you clutched in your hands felt like both a shield and a potential weapon, though you doubted its effectiveness against a being like him.

The demon's eyes sparkled with a playful gleam, and he couldn't resist turning the conversation into a teasing game. "My dear summoner, you hold the secrets of this ancient place in your hands, yet here we are, bound by fate's curious whims. Don't you find it amusing?"

His tone took on a more lighthearted cadence, and he eyed you with a certain flair. "You see, summoning a demon is quite the bold move. A testament to your adventurous spirit, perhaps?" He paused, letting the words linger in the air.

You met his gaze, a mix of confusion and curiosity in your eyes. "Adventurous? I didn't summon you on purpose, and I certainly didn't expect this."

He grinned, a mischievous twinkle in his eyes. "Ah, but that's the beauty of it, dear. The unexpected can be thrilling. Now, let's not dwell on the details. Instead, allow me to appreciate the one who unintentionally brought me into this intriguing situation."

The demon leaned in slightly, his words a gentle caress. "Your courage, even in the face of the unknown, is truly captivating. I must say, it's an irresistible quality."

You felt a warmth spreading through your cheeks, caught off guard by the unexpected turn of his words. The demon seemed to take delight in unraveling the layers of your composure.

The demon's eyes gleamed with amusement, a pleased smile spreading on his lips as he noticed the subtle blush that adorned your cheeks. "Ah, there it is – a delightful shade of rose to decorate your cheeks. How charming," he mused, reveling in the small victory.

He continued to circle you, his presence exuding a magnetic charm. "It seems I've uncovered a hidden facet of your spirit, my dear. Who knew that the summoner of demons could be so enchantingly bashful?"

Your heart rate accelerated, and the warmth from earlier quickly spread throughout your entire body. You weren't sure whether your cheeks were flushed with embarrassment at being complimented by a stranger, or the sudden rush of attraction the demon stirred within you. 

The demon chuckled, clearly aware of the effect he was having on you. "Tell me, my dear, what is it that you desire? A kiss, perhaps? Perhaps a caress on those pink lips…?" His voice trailed off suggestively.

"Stop!" You exclaimed, your voice sounding louder than intended, much to the demon's enjoyment. The blush on your face intensified, and you dropped the book you were holding, hoping to put distance between yourself and the demon as quickly as possible.

The demon quirked a brow, amused by your reaction. "Don't you want a little fun, Summoner?" he asked playfully, a smirk tugging at his lips again, "If we continue this way, I fear you might actually enjoy my company." 

"I highly doubt that…" You retorted, trying to ignore the fact that your whole body felt warmer than usual. 

The demon laughed, enjoying the blush that covered your cheekbones. "Come now, my dear," he purred, approaching you again and placing a delicate hand on your cheek, lingering longer than necessary. "I'm sure it wouldn't hurt to indulge in this once or twice. After all, this is merely an innocent exchange of words. No harm in that, right?"

You swallowed thickly, unable to stop the shiver that ran down your spine at his touch. You tried pulling away, but the demon placed a finger on your lip, making you freeze. "No, no, let's not run away." He shook his head in disapproval. "Let us finish this business before we start avoiding each other, hmm?"

Your eyes widened at his unexpected change of behavior, and you pulled away with a gasp, glaring at the demon in anger. "What are you talking about?"

He shrugged his shoulders indifferently, his lips curling up in a playful manner, "you're just so adorable when you're flustered, and you're getting more beautiful by the minute. You're a very desirable female." His tone was smooth, and his stare never wavered.

A slight pout formed on your reddish features, your eyes narrowing dangerously. "And you're a big jerk, so keep away from me."

The demon raised a brow at your hostile attitude. "Oh really?" He mocked, tilting his head as he studied your expression with interest. "Then again, you did summon me to your home. There might be a reason, don't you think?" 

His expression softened considerably as he moved closer to you, cupping your jaw tenderly in his hands. He tilted your chin upward slowly, forcing you to look directly at his crimson eyes, which held a sort of mischief that you'd only seen before. 

You averted your gaze to avoid any kind of prolonged eye contact. "I don't know what you're talking about…" You mumbled.

He chuckled softly, brushing his thumb over your lips. "Don't go spoiling our little deal, now" he said quietly, turning your head to look at him. "After all," he continued with another seductive grin, "there's still more to come." The demon cooed.

With that, he leaned forward, pressing his lips against yours.

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[alwayslurkinginthebackground]

Different - A Pedrotober Drabble

Day Fifteen of Pedrotober: The Materialists Pedrotober Hosted by @norththelemon and @alyssamariag. View the full prompt list HERE and view my entire Pedrotober drabble catalog HERE.

Pairing: [I can't believe his name is] Randy x reader

Rating: I'm going to rate this one M. Heavy depictions of depression and heartbreak (romantic & friendship) are basically the focus here, so please read with caution if these themes may impact you.

Word Count: 1156

a/n: Since we haven't seen the film yet, I played heavily on the assumption that Randy is the heartbroken one when we reach the conclusion of The Materialists. Past Lives messed me up in the best way possible and I already am well aware that this film will do the same. As I meditated on my own experiences with heartbreak, this is what came to me. I pulled out my old journal, and some of the lines you see here are from very real, incredibly raw moments in my own life. Another you may just recognize, and I've included it because it made past me, and the present me that still dwells on the past, feel significantly less alone. I think I needed to write this for myself, but I hope it resonates with someone else, too. That's the only goal a writer ever has.

It feels different. This feels different.

Then again, everything feels different now.

The hotel bar you find yourself at is stereotypical. Lighting that gives the room a melancholy glow. Stools that are just far enough from the ground for you to swing your feet back and forth when you slide into one. A mirror behind amber bottles of liquid, perfect for reflecting the pitiful excuse of the person you've become. At least, according to them.

You motion to the bartender, but he's either purposefully ignoring you or is so invested in the woman a few seats down from where you now sit that you've actually become invisible. Though, in the grand scheme of things, that might be preferable.

"He won't hear you."

You hadn't particularly noticed the man one chair down from you, but you notice him now. His gaze is focused on the swirling liquid in the crystal tumbler he's holding, his voice rough and devoid of emotion. "He's been mooning over her for the better part of an hour."

A long sigh resonates through your body. "Just my luck, honestly."

"Mine too."

Overwhelmingly enthusiastic music, some kind of jazz, fills the silence between you, but when you get up to leave, resigning yourself to raiding the hotel room bar you remember seeing upstairs, he stops you with a hand on your arm. He's already out of his seat, moving down the counter to say something to the bartender. You watch the exchange, taking in the sour expression of the man behind the counter when he finally pulls himself away from the woman long enough to pour a glass of red wine.

It's in your hand a moment later.

"Thank you," you note quietly when he hands it to you before silently returning to his chair. "You didn't need to..."

The stranger shakes his head, "you look like you need it as much as I do."

He's right about that.

The stem of the wine glass is smooth under your fingers, and you gently turn it in circles against the wooden counter. "Well, thank you again..."

"Randy," he mutters, so softly you almost don't hear him.

"Randy?" your eyebrows raise. "You don't particularly look like a Randy," you continue after clearing your throat.

He shrugs. "It wasn't mine to pick."

You wait to see if he'll ask for your name in return, but he doesn't. When you offer it anyway, he only continues to stare at the glass in hs hands. The music changes - and doesn't change at the same time - to another overly ardent tune as you take a sip of wine, letting the liquid warm your throat.

"So, who broke your heart?" he asks, the question more direct than you would've expected based on the little he's offered in the way of conversation. "Boyfriend? Girlfriend? Partner?"

You shake your head to all of them, the emotion beginning to swell inside you, still too raw and close to the surface as the conversation speeds toward the one thing you came here to forget. You answer his question anyway. "Best friends, actually. Could've been worse."

"Probably hurts all the same, though."

It does.

The sound of the flirting couple nearby invades your conversation, the woman giggling loudly as she throws her head back, overreacting to something the bartender said.

"What about you?" you question, studying your wine.

"Fiance," he spits out the word like it leaves a bitter taste in his mouth. "Left me for an old flame."

For the first time, you let yourself look at him. Really look at him. He looks like the kind of person who belongs in a hotel like this, extravagance radiating from his very being. Unlike you, the outsider who was only staying here because your friend - correction, your former friend - insisted that you stay at the best hotel in New York. At least you were the one with the room key and reservation. But there's also something about the way he's still considering the bourbon in his glass, about the tone of his voice, that makes you wonder if you're more alike than you are different.

"It kind of feels like the end of the world, you know?" His words thrust you back into the reality of the last 24 hours. Because you do know. And it does.

"I think for me it's more like a flood. Sudden and overwhelming."

He lets out a breath that you can tell he's been holding in for far too long. "Like you want to go home, even when you are home?"

"Or that feeling when everything you see only reminds you of them..."

"Because their memory is so imprisoned in your mind that you can never escape," he finishes for you. It causes something to break inside your chest.

"I can't even tell if I'm happy anymore." It's a whisper, but it's an honest statement. The utterance of the thought that's been lingering in the back of your mind. "Or if I am, it's usually only for a fleeting moment before the darkness steps in again."

Tears prickle at the edge of your view, one falling in a line across your cheek. He's quiet, and so are you, but you don't really hear anything anymore anyway, the world drowned out by the pain.

The air is punched out of your lungs as you press your eyes tightly shut. You know you're crying, and you're already beating yourself up for losing control in front of a stranger. But then he takes your hand in his. You look at him through the haze of your tears. "I shouldn't be this upset. I should be comforting you. I'm not the one who got broken up with."

"Friendships can cause heartbreak, too."

It's what you need to hear. The acknowledgment that what you're feeling is real. That you're allowed to be just as shattered by this as he is by whatever fractured him. That you aren't alone, not even in this moment when you're questioning everything and you wish more than anything that the chair you sit on would swallow you whole.

"How do you just forget the hurt and anger?"

He squeezes your hand. Once. Twice, and you grip it like it's the only thing still grounding you. "You don't. You can't."

Every emotion you've experienced comes boiling to the surface. Loss. Betrayal. Pain. Resentment. Deception. Regret. Shame. Weakness. Failure. The words swirl like a hurricane in your mind, like you're trying to navigate through the densest of fog.

"It feels like there isn't any moment past this one," you tell him, this stranger you sit with at the bar you shouldn't be at. The man you barely know who somehow knows you. You tell him because his heartbreak mirrors your own, and despite being different, despite your entire existence shifting in the moments leading up to your gravity coexisting with his, you're somehow the same.

He grips your hand tighter.

"There is."

[halfmoth-halfman]

may i interest you in some more fic recs????😉

the second half of my may fic rec list!! if you wanna see more more of my fic recs and favs, i have em all on my recs blog, here!! please note the navi page is still under construction!!

and of course, if you have any fic recs of your own, feel free to send em my way here or on my sideblog - i love finding new fics and writers!! 💜

may fic recs pt. 1

John Price

missed you - @thanksbutno98

✧ everything i wanted and more omg this is the treatment price deserves tbh. man deserves to relax and be pampered like a princess. such a cute fic that filled my need for fluff perfectly!!

bloodstained honesty || part two - @a-world-with0ut-dr34ms

✧ had me on the edge of my damn seat good lord. saw this line “Price?” and had to stop reading to do a lap around my living room, this fic had me stressing tf out but in the best way possible.

puppy love || five | six | seven | eight - @writeforfandoms

✧ price. puppies. perfection. am i sad to see this series come to an end? yes. but it was fantastic from start to finish and i know i will absolutely being coming back to read this again and again.

languish - @moriflos

✧ you ever read something once and then decide that once isn't enough and just spend an hour reading it over and over and over? that was me with this fic. idk how to describe the way you write, i was so drawn in, craving more. "But for now, he can only watch as his heart returns to him in ashes-" just uuuggghhh i love it.

rise and fall of tides - @queenquazar

✧ moon/moonlight is such a cute callsign, i was already hooked before i started reading. and when i got to the actual fic?? stunned. the entire dancing scene had me smiling and blushing, i love the way you write price and moon and their relationship

ode to a conversation stuck in your throat - @yeyinde

✧ i don't think there will ever come a day where i'm not left in absolute awe by one of lev's fics. everything is literal poetry and this is fic is no exception. i can't describe the way it makes me feel, like i've been given the christmas present i've been waiting all year for

sad girl - @guyfieriii

✧ new price fic from the writer who inspired me to start my mob!au???? say less. the way you write price is so just aslkdakljs the way you write in general is just alsdkjal. i literally do not have words for how much i love this

karma - @stormiwaves

✧ honeypot mission!!! we love to see it!!!! "The dress was karma, filthy karma that Price deserved." yes girl, get it!! jealous!price isn't something i see often, but i loved the way your wrote it here and that ending?? 👀🔥

untitled - @ghostaholics

✧ i👏🏼love👏🏼soulmate👏🏼au's👏🏼 and this has me going absolutely feral. the phantom pain for his injuries, the journal, the angst, the panic, that ending??? if there is ever a full version, please know that i will lose my mind, it will be an immediate fave just like this is.

choices and consequences - @ghostandsoap

✧ this one hurt real good. the talks about guilt, the choices you have to make, the job, all of it was done so well. this was so wonderful and heart-clenching, i loved every bit of it.

our remains - @halcyone-of-the-sea

✧ i just- i mean- what else is there to say but

handsome stranger || part 8 - @alittleposhtoad

✧ not only did this fic make me hungry for soup, it made me kick my feet and twirl my hair. so much fluff and right up my ally, i binged this series and loved every single bit of it.

fair game - @guyfieriii

✧ got me blushing and sweating like a sinner in church and staring at my phone like

turn me to ashes - @guyfieriii

✧ when you said angsty little piece, i was not expecting to have my heart ripped out be left with a gaping void in my chest. i know i love a good angst fic but god damn if that didn't reach into the pits of my soul and destroy any feeling of happiness i had when i started reading. 10/10

price headcanons - @soapskneebrace

✧ the perfect piece of softness to make me feel better after the absolute heartbreak of the previous fic. the characterization is 100% on point here, one of the best i've read and so so so sweet.

price holding his first-born child - @daisies-daydreams

✧ big tough military men holding and being weak over little babies is my jam. it's the fluff, the sweetness, the soft domesticity of it all. the way he reads the book to her, i'm so weak for this fic.

a drink from her cup - @lunarvicar

✧ that post that inspired this has lived rent free in my mind for so long, and i was ecstatic to see you write something for it. i'm so down bad for this man and for your writing and the way you write him.

gem amra kheli - @guyfieriii

✧ i don't think i've ever talked about how much i adore the way you write banter, the little back and forths and comments between price and reader. everything just feels so real, so grounded and i'm completely obsessed

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick

cult of vagabonds || ch. 3 - banshee bluethroat | ch. 4 - finch's frenzy - @halcyone-of-the-sea

✧ i'm screaming. vomiting. scromiting profusely.

"I hate you."

"I know."

how dare you do this to me.

reveries of a lost lamb - @halcyone-of-the-sea

✧ what's it like to be able to be one of the best writers on earth? i seriously cannot comprehend the sheer amount of talent and ability you have at writing the most captivating and emotion evoking fics i've ever read.

A golden sunrise, tangled fingers; gentle lips.

“I think I love you.” 

i'm deceased.

aiaigasa (相合傘) - @captainpriceslover

✧ i read "Your part of London smelled like wet pennies that evening." and was instantly sold. the rest of the fic was so fantastic, the perfect dose of sweetness i needed, i love gaz and the way you write him so much!!

white flag - @writeforfandoms

✧ you cannot stress me out like this!! but also please continue to stress me out like this!! also the little nicknames for price and gaz had me laughing so hard, esp price.

it's over - @itsohh

✧ i really loved this, i don't think i've seen a lot of fics with gaz that really talk about what he's gone through and how missions affect him and this one does it incredibly well. serious, yet heartwarming, i adore it.

Multiple

dead disco || chapter 4 | chapter 5 | combat baby - @peachesofteal

✧ never before have a i read a series that has captured my attention so much that willingly skipped out on lunch to read it. i couldn't stop, i am in love with this fic, the writing, the characterization, everything about it. there isn't a single flaw to be found here.

how they wake you up in the mornings - @nia-writes

✧ this was so cute, and the addition of the different scenarios for how the characters would wake you made it all the more better. i was blushing, laughing, anxious, constantly giggling about FOAP. such a fun read!!

soulmate au - @itsohh

✧ i've said it once and i will say it again, i love soulmate!aus!! and god the angst in these just raked me over the coals. angst is something i love seeing in soulmate fics and this was so expertly done, my heart still hurts when i think about it

touching their cheek for the first time - @runicarbiter02

✧ absolute cuteness all around, like a cuteness overload. each one fit so well, but i'm gonna take a second to really talk about the love of my life, Roach, being included in this and how this has become an automatic fav just for that.

physical touch - @siilvan

✧ tbh i came to this for the gaz hcs but it was so good that i immediately read the rest and damn near screamed when i saw roach on there. so cute, and adorable, and absolutely perfect i loved every bit of this!!

kiss headcanons - @mangowafflesss

✧ such a cute idea that you did amazing on!! i love kisses and kiss fics and i think you absolutely nailed it here. honestly me and reader are the same because i too would just like to smooch the 141 boys all over.

getting into an accident and being hospitalised while the team is deployed - @daisies-daydreams

✧ slipping while getting out of the shower and needing to have your jaw hinged shut?? reader's just like me fr. this was very sweet, a lovely little dose of fluff with a sprinkle of angst

Simon "Ghost" Riley

silk series || silk ties - @uselsshuman

✧ i screamed. shrieked. went through a rollercoaster of emotions when this series updated. it was everything i wanted, more than everything i wanted, just so unbelievably beyond expectations!! and this:

“Stay with me for now then.”

stay with me forever wtf

no more || chapter 6 - hypnosis - @lethalchiralium

✧ we love a man who wants to apologize but man we gotta get ghost into therapy or st 😂seriously though, this was fun and the little back and forth about having a dad had me giggling

a bath - @blackssuunn

✧ i can't- i literally can't- this is too fluffy, too sweet, too perfect. i'm in awe of your writing "His eyes burn a little. Not a single drop of soap entered them." i'm speechless.

pomp - @bits-and-babs

✧ we stan anti-monarchy simon LOL so great and thos poor guards stuck at the doors. i went from blushing to cackling in like two seconds

tones - @blackssuunn

✧ soft lovely dovey simon is my favorite and you write him so incredibly well. the way this man is absolutely whipped for his partner, i adore it and i adore you for writing this

between dreams and sugar - @halcyone-of-the-sea

✧ i think i'm addicted to your angst, i keep happily going into these angst fics like i don't know i'm about to have my heart shredded into a million pieces. was there a happy ending here? yes. but it still hurt and i still loved it!!

feverish simon confesses to you - @angelltheninth

✧ this is such a cute trope that i don't read that much of, but i loved every bit of this! so much cuteness and let's be real, ghost is def the type of guy who would try and wait out an illness even if it was life-threatening 😂

footprints in the snow - @bittersw33t-lotus

✧ hello??? this was one of the sweetest things i've ever read??? i'm such a sucker for soft!simon esp when he's still a little shit and you've written that so perfectly

happiness series || you belong with me - @lethalchiralium

✧ i swear i'm totally normal about this series i'm not i totally don't immediately go feral every time it updates i do and i totally and definitely don't drop and ignore everything to reread the entire series with every new chapter i won't apologize

untitled - @lunarvicar

✧ the way you write simon and the way he shows love and how he cares has me so weak and how he teases is so aldkasjdkljk he's an asshole and i love him and i can never get enough of the way you write him

simon & rain little headcanons - @mvtthewmurdvck

✧ aaaahhhh simon and rain!!! i've missed these two and when i tell you i sprinted to read this!! i love the way your write their dynamic/relationship and just how real and fun it feels!! you're literally so good at writing ghost, i can't even deal with

sassy series || ch. 3 excerpt - @peachesofteal

✧ i have never wanted to read a full chapter so bad in my entire life. this excerpt is like a the most delicious little appetizers and i'm vibrating with excitement for the full meal!!

Valeria Garza

oh to be consumed by you - @sleepiexx

✧ i want to be consumed by valeria omg. i didn't even know vampire!val was something that i wanted-no, something that i needed-and this fic just came out of nowhere and hit me over the head in the best way possible.

[the-lights-are-loud]

Oh, I did both… Guys do I need to get diagnosed with stuff?? The symptoms are starting to pile up

no. if you weren't in special education as a child and you are now perfectly capable of reading and writing then you do not have autism. the high functioning people with mild aspergers syndrome do not have autism either. most people with autism either cannot read at all (30%) or read below their grade level (60%). if you are using a computer by yourself without supervision you don't have autism and you do not need a diagnosis based on other people without autism making posts about their ~totally legit~ autism symptoms of "liking their fave songs". this is the first step into munchausens by internet, and many young people have ended up dying because of it. you are normal, be grateful!

This is cracking me up, because I was talking about ADHD when I posted the quote at the beginning nearly a year ago. I also have said several times that I have not been diagnosed with it, but have done research and have found more symptoms than "liking my favorite songs." Since starting this blog, I've learned a lot about what I considered was normal, versus what really is "normal."

I am grateful that I never had to be put in "special education classes." I was fairly advanced in school growing up and had different mental struggles that I won't go into. I didn't start to think that I had ADHD until about 2 years ago when I looked into symptoms of female ADHD and adult ADHD.

According to the NHS, "Munchausen syndrome is a psychological condition where someone pretends to be ill or deliberately produces symptoms of illness in themselves." They usually do this for attention.

According to the University of Virginia, "about one-third of autistic people are unable to communicate using speech, and most are never provided an effective alternative." This causes many people to think that Autistic people are less intelligent. They have a harder time regulating emotions or reading social cues, making them seem more childlike. "The study published in the journal Autism, reports that five times more nonspeaking autistic teenagers and adults demonstrated knowledge of written language conventions than would be expected from previous estimates of their abilities."

I recommend reading both articles.

Next time you give me numbers, give me your sources. Because saying 90% of all autistic people can't read at grade level or at all is a bold statement with no proof. The autism spectrum is not linear, and it is different for each person. Also, people who are diagnosed with something have it, even if it is "mild" or "high functioning."

Thank you for the ask and next time don't assume what an internet stranger has or deals with daily.

[itsclydebitches]

I'm just adding my voice to the growing choir but yeah, I don't think Trent is going to out Collin:

It would be an extreme moment of regression. I mean, this guy gave up decades of high-profile journalism due to his distaste for how the job was making him compromise his ethics. He's not gonna just turn around and out a player after that.

(Headcanon-y side-note, but Trent is HEAVILY queer coded and based on my personal readings of his character he's someone who would not just respect Collin, but understand him.)

I've been noticing that each episode has a small "Don't print that" moment where Trent seems legitimately open to keeping the club's personal secrets. The ones that, frankly, have no bearing on football and thus the public has no right to them (changing manicurists, diarrhea, etc.) None of these scenes have implied that he's merely humoring his worried friends and planning to air all the dirty laundry when they're least expecting it. A player kissing another man in an alley on their night off absolutely counts as 'Personal and none of the book's business.'

Outside of the book, how would Trent publish this? He doesn't seem to be doing freelance. It's possible he could pass the tip off to someone else, but we haven't seen any journalist buddies he's friendly with and giving that to a stranger (from the audience's perspective) would feel like even more of a betrayal. You're not just outing him, but using someone who we can't trust to spin the story in an empathetic light, as Trent did with Ted's panic attacks?

Trent doesn't snap a photo of them, despite having the time to get one (they're oblivious). He doesn't write anything in his notebook. He doesn't interrupt and hound them for a quote like he might have in season 1-2. He just walks off, looking contemplative/a bit worried.

So I don't think Trent is going to out Collin, but I do think he might try and do something about it. Meaning, this episode has shown that Collin is, well... pretty bad at keeping his sexuality a secret. He's sneaking out of his boyfriend's house, trying not to draw attention to himself, but then he hits a whole bunch of trash cans while leaving. I got a huge spike of anxiety when he looked at his phone with the other guys standing right there, given that a selfie, kissy emoji, and "thirst" are all pretty damning texts. He's obviously kissing right next to the main road, just a street or so down from where half the club is eating dinner, in a remarkably lit area. And though he tries to deflect a lot - fine he's gay for Zava too, this is my wingman, story about trying to seduce women - it comes across as trying too hard to anyone who's paying attention. Because, you know, Collin is trying very hard, despite his missteps.

The point is that Collin is constantly on the cusp of being outed. If the story doesn't have that happen next episode (that would put a damper on Richmond's win streak) I think Trent is going to step in somehow in an effort to provide damage control - or at least try to, even if he winds up being too late. The use of "Everybody Knows," while obviously a pertinent title, is also a list of how all these awful things have already come to pass - "That's how it goes" - and contains such gems as,

"Everybody knows you've been discreet But there were so many people you just had to meet Without your clothes Everybody knows"

(The context here is cheating, but for a background snippet of a song I think the general vibe of bad things + lovers + not being discreet wins out.)

So Trent may try to step in, even if it comes to naught. After all, if he spotted them it's only a matter of time until someone else does too. Collin is lucky it was Trent who saw them and not someone else.

Cue the emphasis on how much he's changed as a journalist (Collin wouldn't have been lucky a year ago), viewers get a cool new relationship between characters who haven't interacted yet, as well as the canonizing of Trent as a queer man without giving him a coming out story because frankly a 50ish character doesn't (necessarily) need that. He's already got the "vibe" 🌈😎

[obviousniklr]

It's No Celestial (short story)

"When I first met you, I thought you were the same as others—a stranger even." You flash back to when you first met. You remember how shy and clingy she was. "I didn't think much of you."

"But, you showed me a world I would only dream of. A life that I can only read from fiction. "Her hand pulls yours as you clumsily run along with her.

"You pulled me in a story I didn't expect to stay, forever."

"I thought of you like a guardian angel who would protect me every time but then I noticed how scarred your wings are..."

"I thought of you like a goddess with immense celestial power and that could possibly destroy the Earth, but I notice how much you lack control of..."

"I see you're still a normal person who wants to get along with us, and that you could feel lonely easily..."

"You're still a normal person full of flaws, full of struggles. Full of...scars."

"I can see clearly that you need help but you hide it under a smiling mask. A confident persona you wanted to be."

"I wanted to understand you...can you trust me?"

"I'm not afraid of opening your Pandora's box."

"But sadly...I was. And I blamed you for it." You recall the times you snapped at her, blaming her for having fangs, blaming her clumsy and impulsive decisions. You thought you knew better.

"I didn't mean to cause you more scars..."

She tries to protect you every single time, taking every wound you should've gotten. Even if she heals it, the cycle keeps repeating. Even if she insist, it's still hurtful to watch.

"I thought I could heal them..." Tears drop on a non-existent puddle. You clench your fists tightly.

"That's where I remember I was only a normal person, who had no powers to protect you."

"I couldn't save an angel or a goddess if I want to... I'm just left to be down here, watching you fight alone. Watching you crash on your own."

"I wanted to know you, so I can help you."

"I wanna help you."

You open your eyes and stand up. You're in a black void, with no end or edge. You look up to see a giant pink fireball in the distance, a pink sun. You can see her in the middle of it, barely but still visible, floating like her body is being pulled up, her short hair flows backwards as her head lays in the air, and her arms stretch behind her. You jump and swim towards it, using this opportunity to levitate and reach her.

And then flash of light occurs, changing the surroundings into a brightly lit space, with the ground somehow acting as a liquid floor. Solid yet echoes each step with a ripple.

She sits in front of you, hunched down, wrapping her arms around herself. Her long black feathered wings stretch far and drooped, like they don't have any more strength to stand tall.

You slowly walk close to her... each step leaving a ripple...

"You don't need to protect me under your wings..."

...and you kneel down. In between her wings you gently place your face on her back, template headfirst, and wrap your arms around her waist.

"It's okay."

The black feathers fly along the wind, dissolving the black wings that was attached to her. She notices you and looks behind, her eyes covered by her bangs. You exchange her confusion with a warm smile. She holds your arms that's wrapping her and for once, she curls a small smile.

"You don't need to fly alone to fly higher..." Your white feathered wings spread behind you.

"Let's fly together."

Your pen stops writing.

You take its tip off from the paper as you review what you wrote. Unfortunately you're no Shakespeare but it's written good enough to describe your imagination. Reading through it makes you blush. It'll be embarrassing if someone sees it. But... you still like it. Your embarrassed blush being more of a prideful one as you giggle a smile. It'll be cringey later on, so you wanna be proud of it for now.

You continue on writing on your journal in your dimly lit room. You lean a bit on the pillow behind you as the lamp illuminates the paper. You continue imagining your story like a fantasy.

*bzz* *bzz*

Then, a sudden buzz on your phone distracts you. It's her.

You pick it up.

"Hey, why are you still up? It's late!"

"I was about to ask you that myself." She replies. "I was just finished playing a game and I thought I should leave you a voice message for when you wake up."

You giggle. "What for?" You place your pillow that has been serving as a table besides you. Curling your legs up as you become comfortable on the call.

"Nothing. I just miss you. Oh, and to brighten up your morning in case you have a rough sleep."

"We'll see each other anyways for work, dummy." You said with an annoyed smile.

"Hehe, yeah~ I know."

"But you know...what if this would be the last call?" The mood suddenly shifts for you. "You'll never know when the last would come right? So I wanna make sure I give all the love I got for ya!"

You became silent for a moment.

"Sorry, that suddenly gotten existential-ie."

"Y-Yeah, no worries. Just...caught me off guard."

"Heheh, my bad."

"Don't...Don't say things like that out of nowhere, especially at night." You became slightly upset. Your cheeks blushes as you try to keep your composure.

"Alright, alright."

"For real this time *yawn* good night! See you tomorrow!" You're about to remove the phone from your ear, "--Oh oh uh speaking of tomorrow, before we finish off the day, or maybe in the middle of a mission, or whatever..." You widen your eyes, waiting to know where this tangent is going. "Remind me to call you."

"Eh? Why? Do you have something to remind me"

"Remember what I said just a minute ago? This is just in case I would jinx myself." You blink in surprise. "You know, so this won't be my last call like I've said."

"Eheh. I just thought... I might worry you or something, especially at a time that makes you wanna overthink." You don't know how to respond to that. You continue to stay silent as that shock haven't wavered away. "Even right now, I'm already overthinking about it haha!"

"Or maybe this is me getting sleepy, I don't know. But I uh did notice that pause there."

"Um..." You try to finally speak once more, "...don't worry about it too much. I'll be fine. Really." Your eyes softens as you look down on your sheets, trying to speak calmly again.

"Hmm...alright."

"Aires..."

"Hm?"

"I...wanna hug you right now." Your tone is somewhat becoming melancholic.

You hear a single, tired giggle. "I wann'u too." She replies.

"Maybe tomorrow when we meet up."

"Mm. I'll remember that."

"Okay, good night~"

"Good night, Jyuls." After hearing those last words you hang up the call.

You remain still in your little position on your bed, still curled up while pondering over that call. Replaying that short moment in your head. Your eyes wandering in your bed sheets, as you form your thoughts. You look to the side, down to your notebook that is sitting on your white pillow. You stare intently at the story you wrote for a few seconds, before returning back to staring at your sheets.

You take off your glasses and lay your head down on the pillow behind you. You stare at the blurry, dark ceiling.

She was just like me, you thought, worried and conscious.

She's no different than us. Just someone who has normal feelings and thoughts. You seem to be continuing the story in your head, or at least trying to rephrase lines to make them sound more sophisticated. Just...there's just this thing that makes her different, unusual.

She's a human just like us, who loves just like us, who worries just like us. Just like me. And yet...her struggles is unlike any other. You take a moment to just stare blankly at the ceiling, thinking on what to say next. Thinking on what you feel to say next.

So is she an angel? A goddess? A human? All of that? It's never a single answer is it? Is there even an answer? Or am I just overthinking something non-sensical and cringe like this?

You roll to your side. It's just so...intriguing. She's intriguing. That's why I wanna know more. You sit back up and fix your things, picking up your pen and closing your book. It's definitely no celestial being, but no normal human either. Just...her. You place your belongings on the bedside table.

Heh, why are you asking such trivial things, Juliet? You ask yourself in your head as you lay back down once more, hugging your white pillow. I don't know. Thinking of Aires makes me... think sometimes. Even if it's worry or curiosity, this is how caring for someone is right? Loving someone? You clench the white pillow, burrowing half your face in the soft fabric.

When you love someone, you just want to protect them...right? Your eyes begins to feel heavy, the words you think is slowly fading due to some sort of fog. Thinking of another revision to that little story you made, it's just making your brain more tired. Even if I'm no angel or god... Your eyes slowly closes. Perhaps this was your way of falling asleep.

I want...to save you.

[gardensnakie]

Who's better at poetry, Stranger or Sunny?

I automatically assume that Sunny would lean more onto the drawing side of art rather than writing, let alone poetry. I think it depends on how people see the character because based on Canon occurrences, Sunny takes a lot of inspiration from the outside world, like from comic books and movies when he dreams. He creates new adventures and scenarios that would lead most to assume that he would be a good writer if he practiced. In addition to his more darker thoughts, and his sad poem skill, it seems possible he'd be good at it. But the thing is, Sunny has trouble identifying how he feels, that includes speaking and even writing those feelings down. If he were to attempt to journal anything for those 4 years that he was stuck in the house, that would ruin the world he created for himself where mari didn't die. With how much he was repressing his feelings, trying to organize them into words would be a long shot. That's why Sunny turns to drawing, in can be incoherent as he wants without directly including the thing he wants to ignore. (And sunnys drawings are cool, I'm a sucker for violent, surrealism art) Even after the truth, I think sunnys poetry would be good and cool to read (I'm not sure, I'm no critic but I'd like to think sunnys poetry would be very vivid, sometimes incoherent) His poetry would be for his eyes only, I don't think he'd actively try to get better at it but use it as a way to be less stressed.

With rare access to pen and paper, Stranger has a lot to say but speaks in a cryptic way as a way to hold back. Of maybe it's because Omori/Sunny refuses to hear anything of the truth that Stranger is simply cursed to never say it out loud. Or maybe Stranger doesn't want to frighten them away and chooses his words carefully in order to keep him from retreating further into repression. I like to think about the second possibility. Stranger is capable of altering his words in a vague, but concise way to lead, question, or warn The Dreamer. He also has access to the Lost Library and practically most of the horrors residing in Blackspace. Every idea is different down there, it changes constantly, the abstract rooms and delusions is a gold mine for inspiration. Horrible inspiration, actually. (Kinda reminds me how most artists are troubled in some way, "thank you for the trauma, I need it for my art" kinda way)

Stranger had been down there longer since Sunny avoided blackspace as much as he could. Who knows? During that time, Stranger must've talked to himself a lot. He may speak strangely, not really using the words 'I feel' because spiraling is far too easy in a quiet place like that. He can't really draw. With personified fears and ideas from The Dreamer in all those rooms, Stranger doesn't want to draw them again as a mean to express his own feelings. How can you express the hell in your head when there is hell all around you? So melodramatic. At least Sunny sat in denial, surrounded by color. Stranger reminds me of someone doodle silly things, at least draw something where he hoped to be instead of living in darkness. Though, it'd probably make him more sad, so he'd abandon it somewhere. If he could, Stranger would write a lot. His thoughts could be like a little rule book to keep himself sane. Anger, guilt, shame, vile thoughts, disgusting actions, Stranger would make sure certain mistakes don't happen twice. He'd remember his purpose, helping Sunny remember. Certainly making him feel less worthless. If all this writing was possible, Stranger would be the one with tons of poems.

Ramble. Ramble. Ramble. Jeez, that was a lot of crap. Sorry if you were expecting a yes or no with a few sentences of reasoning, I wanted to reinforce a lot. It gave me a few ideas in the process, but all of it is pretty loose and theorizable (i didnt read check this, so sorry if certain sentences of explanation are a little awkward). But yeah, whaddya think?

[rainbowbobatea]

Pizza Night *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ

After hearing about your secret desires, Ryan and Hugh decide to swap pizza night for another type of night…

One thing Shar loves about her and Hugh is something anyone can notice, whether strangers or friends:

Their height difference.

For starters, there’s the forehead kisses. The light pecks he gives her as he bends down to her petite level, his prickly chin tickling her head lightly.

Then there's the hugs. When he hugs her, his chin rests on the top of her head, and she can feel the vibrations of his voice when he speaks. It's like being wrapped in a cocooned blanket:

Soft. Warm. Nice…

Then there's the practical side of things.

At the grocery store, Shar no longer has to perform a gymnastics routine to reach the top shelf. Hugh, with his towering frame, effortlessly plucks items from the highest shelves. Cereals, jams, you name it.

But…way shorter than him has its downsides, too.

Like today, for instance.

Hugh's eyes sparkle with mischief as he watches Shar scribbling in her journal. She's so engrossed in her writing that she doesn't notice him creeping up behind her. In one swift motion, he snatches the book from her hands.

Shar's head snaps up, her eyes wide with surprise.

“Hugh!" She jumps to her tippy toes, reaching for the journal. "Give it back!"

Hugh holds the book high above his head, just out of her reach. Damn this height difference. His lips curl into a teasing smirk as he watches her struggle.

"I just wanna know what my babygirl is writing about," he says, his voice low and playful. “C’mon..”

Shar's cheeks flush a deep red as she continues to reach for the journal.

"It's private!" She protests, her voice a mix of embarrassment and frustration.

Hugh's eyes dance with amusement. He takes a step back, maintaining the distance between them.

"Private, huh? Well…now I'm really curious."

Shar lunges forward, her fingers grazing the edge of the book. "Hugh, please! This isn't funny!”

He chuckles, easily sidestepping her attempt.

"Oh, I think it's hilarious." He cracks open the journal, his eyes never leaving Shar's face. "Let's see what secrets you're keeping from me."

Shar's heart races. She knows Hugh is just teasing, but the thought of him reading her private thoughts makes her panic.

"Hugh Michael Jackson, if you don't give that back right now, I swear—"

Too late.

Hugh is already flipping through the journal, a teasing smile on his face. However…as the pages are turned, his eyes widen with each word and—

Oh.

It's not what he expected to find. No, not at all. Shar, caught between embarrassment and anger, watches him intently, her heart pounding in her chest as he stares in shock.

“Well…wow…” gasps, eyebrows raising.

See, this journal is where Shar lets her imagination run wild. It's her secret garden, a place where she explores her deepest, darkest fantasies—the ones she'd never dare speak aloud.

As he peruses the pages, Hugh's eyebrows lift higher. He clears his throat, a mixture of surprise and arousal flashing across his face.

"Give it back, now." Shar rolls her eyes, her cheeks flaming with mortification.

Hugh, the teasing jerk, doesn’t give it back. Instead, he begins to read it aloud, his deep voice sending shivers down Shar's spine. His voice dropped to a husky whisper as he read each word:

"I dunno why, but sometimes I think about…well…I think about being used by Hugh…and Ryan. There I admitted it. I said it."

Shar's cheeks flush warm as Hugh glances up. Her heart pounds as he continues to read again.

"I think about it all the time. I…I want them to use me, to take what they want from my body. I want to be sandwiched between their bodies…for them to take control of me.”

Shar's breath quickened as Hugh read more of her forbidden thoughts, the forbidden words echoing across the small living room.

"I want their hands on me, touching every inch of my body. I want Ryan to rub me until I'm ready for him to easily slip in, taking his full girth. I wanna make him wail pathetically as my walls clench around him. And then, I want Hugh to eat me out as Ryan pumps in and out of me."

A brief pause.

Shar glances up to see a curious smirk on Hugh's face. An odd, glazed look falls over his eyes as he continues reading, a bit slower this time.

"No, actually…I want both of their tongues on me, teasing me until I cum on both of their tongues. I want them to kneel in front of my spread legs and eat me out like a buffet, even as I'm throbbing, sensitive from their touch. I want them to keep going, to show me no mercy. None."

Shar's eyes fluttered closed as she imagined the scene, her breath quickening.

"I want them to use me until I break, until I'm a sobbing mess, pleading for more. I want them to destroy me. Their plaything. That's what Ryan would call me as I ride him…and Hugh. They'll make me take both of them at the same time. I just know it."

Another pause.

Then, Hugh continues with wide, unblinking eyes:

"And then, there's Ryan. I want him to dominate Hugh. I wanna watch Ryan take control, to see the desire in Hugh's eyes as he submits to Ryan's will. To show who's the boss, because he's the boss in the bedroom—well, both are, and I'm just their princess who'll take it. Take it all."

His voice trails off as he looks up from the journal, his eyes lockingwith Shar's. For a moment, neither of them speaks.

Then—someone finally speaks. The new voice comes from behind them, making Shar flinch in surprise.

"Wow…that was some poetry right there, huh?"

It's Ryan.

He looks flabbergasted as he stands at the living room doorway, holding a box of pizza. Pepperoni? Pineapple pizza? The sight of the steaming box brings back memories Shar had totally forgotten: they were planning on a movie night filled with movies and popcorn, but now…

That's all forgotten.

Shar's eyes scan Ryan, taking in the way his white tank top hugs his muscular frame. His biceps pop as he holds the box of pizza out to her, a teasing smirk on his face that says—

I heard it all.

"So... you hungry?" Ryan asks her, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

Hugh sets the journal aside, a mischievous hint in his Australian accent. "I dunno Ryan, I think she's hungry for something else…”

Embarrassed, Shar covers her face with a fluffy pillow. "Stawwp."

Hugh tries to take the pillow from her, his eyes sparkling with amusement. "Aww, why not, love? Thought you'd like two slices of—"

"STAWWWP!" Shar insists, her face now heated up.

Ryan chuckles, taking a step closer. "What did you say? The part where you wanted me to dom--"

"SHUT UP, RYAN!" Shar bursts out.

Ryan's smirk widens as he takes in her flustered state. "Okay, okay, I'll stop. But only if you put that pillow down and look at me when I'm talking to you, young lady."

Shar's heart flutters at the nickname, her face still flushed. She slowly lowers the pillow, her eyes darting between them both.

"Yeah…that's better," Ryan murmurs, settling beside her on the couch. "I like to see those pretty brown eyes. "Don't you too, Hugh?"

Hugh nods in agreement, gently caressing Shar's thigh. "Mhm. I see 'em every day. "They're pretty alright."

Ryan nods as well as he gives Shar a once-over. His eyes darkening with intent. "Still, I'm curious about the rest of it."

"Oh, come on, Ryan." Hugh interjects, his hand resting on Shar's thigh. "We've heard enough to know what she's into it…right?"

Ryan's lips twist into a devilish grin. "Not enough. But, hey—I'm a patient man! I can wait for more details later.” He says, winking.

Shar, still feeling flustered, crosses her arms over her chest. "Stop it, you two!"

Hugh chuckles, his thumb grazing circles on Shar's thigh. "You know, it's funny. You're usually so vocal…but now you're all shy and blushing. Why's that?"

Ryan's eyes light up with amusement. "Yeah, Shar. Why don't you tell us why?"

"I—I—" Shar stammers, her heart hammering in her chest. "You two are being ridiculous."

Hugh sits back, pulling Shar onto his lap. "I think she likes it."

"Of course, she likes it." Ryan shrugs, his eyes never leaving Shar.

Shar feels her cheeks burn even hotter. "Y-you two are impossible."

Hugh nuzzles his nose against her neck, his breath tickling her skin. "And you're unpredictable. Never thought my girl would think such thoughts…"

Shar squirms against his light touch on her neck, prompting Hugh to chuckle a bit.

"Hey, Ryan?" Hugh murmurs. "Did you know that Shar's a bit ticklish over here?"

Ryan's interest piques as he moves closer, his eyes glinting with curiosity. "Oh, really now?" He mirrors Hugh's movement, his breath grazing Shar's neck as he adds, "And where else might that be?"

Hugh's thumb grazes the sensitive spot on Shar's waist. "Well," he drawls, his eyes gleaming with devilish intent. "She's also a bit ticklish right about..."

Before Hugh can finish his sentence, Ryan's fingers are dancing across Shar's waist, sending tingles down her spine. She giggles uncontrollably, squirming in their grasp.

"Stoooooop!"

As she lands on Ryan's lap, Shar immediately feels the evidence of his hardness pressing against her lower regions. Her pink skirt, light and airy, does little to hide the sensation.

"Sooo,” Ryan says, smiling down at her. “I'm still wondering what else your wrote in that little diary."

"…Shut…up!!"

Ryan's hand pauses its exploration, his lips curving into a mischievous smile.

“What? I'm just trying to figure out what you like, Shar..." His warm breath fans the sensitive skin of her neck, sending even more shivers down her spine.

Ryan laughs again. "But it looks like we're just gonna have to figure it out ourselves, right Hughby?"

Hugh glares at Ryan at the sound of his childhood nickname. “I'm afraid I'm going to have to agree with Shar and tell you to shut up too."

"Fair enough."

Ryan smirks. His touch is gentle yet firm, his fingers starting to trace patterns against her soft thighs. He takes his time, enjoying the way her breath quickens and her body responds to his every touch.

Lips against jawline. Chills.

Fingers running up her legs. Goosebumps.

Hand slowly moving up, up, up…under her pink shirt…brushing against the soft curve of her breast.

Shar gasps at the touch.

Meanwhile, Ryan’s fingertips continue to drift up her thighs, gently nudging her legs apart. She knows she should resist—she can feel Hugh's eyes on them, watching intently—but Ryan’s touch has ignited a fire within her that's hard to ignore.

"Ryan, I—"

"Shh." Ryan silences her with a whispered command, his thumb brushing against her core. "Let me make you feel good."

Shar glances at Hugh. He raises an eyebrow, giving her a curious look.

"Oh? Thought you wanted this, love?"

"I—I do…"

"Then listen to Ryan and spread your legs like a good girl, okay?"

"O-okay."

Shar swallows, letting Ryan nudge her legs apart inch by inch. Bit by bit. His fingers find their target under her skirt, expertly teasing her until she's squirming on his lap even more. Her head falls back, offering him full access as her body arches into his touch.

A moan slips out of her, making Ryan rub her sensitive spot even faster.

"Mm, like that don't you? Bet you touch yourself like this when you fantasize about us, huh?"

Heat fills her cheeks. Shar closes her eyes, embarrassed again.

"…Ah, knew it.

Ryan's touch is confident, his movements precise as he teases and pleases, knowing exactly what Shar needs. His other hand slides up Shar's shirt, cupping her breast, his thumb teasing her hardened nipple through her thin shirt. She can feel the roughness of his palm, the contrast of his calloused skin against her soft curves.

“Mm, show me. Show me and Hugh how you touch yourself. Go on, now.”

Ryan flips her skirt over, exposing her lower half. His eyes darken with desire as he watches her hesitant fingers trail over her body, touching herself just as she'd described in her journal.

Her fingers find their way to her core, her touch electric as she dances over her sensitive nub.

"That's it, babygirl," Ryan breathes, his voice hoarse with arousal. "Show me what you do when you think about us."

Shar lets out a soft moan as she teases herself, her eyes fluttering closed. Ryan's gaze burns into her. She feels exposed, yet utterly consumed by the moment.

Next to her, Hugh watches, hypnotized. He can't tear his eyes away as Shar loses herself in her own touch, her hand gliding against her wet core.

"That's it, keeping touching yourself sweetheart."

Gently, Ryan lifts her off and begins to undress, his strong biceps flexing as he removes his clothes. Her breath catches in her throat as she takes in the sight of Ryan's sculpted physique, his muscles rippling with each movement. She feels herself growing wetter, her body throbbing with need.

"Ryan I—"

He scoops her up with ease, settling her back onto his lap again and positioning her so that she can feel his hardness teasing her wetness.

"Oh," Again murmurs, his voice a low rumble. "You did a good job preparing yourself for me."

"I did?"

"Of course you did, Shar."

She feels a rush of heat between her legs as Ryan slowly eases into her, filling her with his length. Immediately, she feels…full. So fucking full. Her eyes roll back in pleasure, and she can't hold back the moan as he pushes into her more.

The sound goes straight to Hugh, who's still watching, transfixed.

Ryan's gaze falls to where they are joined, watching as he stretches her, filling her. "Mm.." He groans, his hands gripping her hips as he begins to move, his thrusts deep and slow.

“That's it. Take me in."

Shar can't speak, can barely breathe. Ryan's movements send waves of pleasure through her body, consuming her. Filling her. She feels herself getting closer to the edge, teetering, about to fall.

"You like that, don't you?" Ryan's voice is a husky whisper against her ear, his lips grazing her sensitive skin. "Like being filled by me?"

Shar nods, her breath coming in short gasps. "Yes..."

"Say it," Ryan demands, pushing into her again. "Tell me what you want."

"I—I want you," Shar manages to whisper, her cheeks flaming. "Want you…"

Ryan growls, his thrusts becoming more urgent. "Like this?"

"Yes..." Shar breathes, her body moving in rhythm with his. "Harder.”

“What’s the magic word?”

“P-please?”

Ryan obliges, his thrusts becoming more forceful, driving into her with a pace that has them both gasping. Hugh can barely stand to watch, his own body thrumming with the need to join them. He starts undressing as he watches, his gaze focused on the beautiful sight of his flushed girl.

"Hear that, Hugh?" Ryan's voice is a husky whisper, his eyes never leaving Shar's face. "She likes it. She likes being used by me.”

Shar's moans fill the room, her body arching towards Ryan. Her hands clutch at his back, her nails digging into his skin as she surrenders to the pleasure.

Ryan grunts, leaning in closer, his lips nibbling against Shar's ear. "You like it when I use you, don't you, baby? Say it again.”

She can barely speak—her response is just a soft whimper, her body moving urgently against Ryan's. Her hands tangle in his messy brown hair, guiding him closer as she loses herself.

"Hmm, come here, love."

Shar's eyes fly open at the sound of Hugh's voice. Her cheeks flush a deep crimson as Ryan slowly lifts her off of him, pulling her into Hugh’s lap. He gently kisses the side of her neck as he eases into her now, filling her up yet again.

"Missed this," Huhh murmurs, his voice thick with want as he slowly sheaths himself within her. "Missed you."

Shar whimpers, closing her eyes as sensations wash over her. She's sensitive, so sensitive from Ryan, and now Hugh is filling her up in a whole new way.

His strong hands grip her hips, guiding her movements. He watches her face as she rides him, slowly at first, then with more urgency. Ryan sits back, his eyes darkening with arousal as he takes in the sight of them joined, moving together in perfect sync.

"That's it, love," Hugh encourages, his thumbs grazing the sensitive skin of her hips. "Ride me like that."

Shar moans, her hands braced against his shoulders as she throws her head back, giving herself over to the pleasure. Ryan moves closer, his fingers trailing along her thighs, up her torso, until he cups her breasts, teasing her nipples with his thumbs.

"You like that, baby?" Ryan whispers, his lips brushing against her ear. "Like being touched by both of us at once?"

Shar can only whimper in response, her body moving frantically now. Hugh leans up, capturing her lips in a fierce kiss, his tongue dominating her mouth as he lets his hands wander over her body.

Ryan, meanwhile, leaves a trail of kisses down her neck, his teeth grazing her sensitive skin, making her arch into him.

Their mouths, their hands—everywhere at once.

"Ryan," she moans, her body tingling with anticipation.

"Right here, baby," Ryan assures, gently pinching her hardened nipples, making her cry out. "Ready for me again?"

"Y-yes."

"Hugh's eyes never leave Shar's face as he slowly pulls out, his cock slick with her juices. "Damn, babygirl," he breathes, his eyes dark with desire.

"You're so fucking wet."

Ryan watches, his own cock twitching with anticipation as he takes in the sight of Shar's glistening pussy. "Look at that," he murmurs, his voice hoarse with need. "Our babygirl is soaked."

Shar bites her lip, her eyes fluttering closed. Her breath comes in short gasps as she feels the heady mix of pleasure.

"I-I can't help it," she whispers, her cheeks flaming.

Hugh steps aside on the couch, his eyes never leaving Shar's flushed face. "Your turn, Ryan."

Ryan needs no further invitation. He steps forward, his cock hard and ready as he lifts Shar's skirt up again and lines up with her entrance.

With a slow, deliberate thrust, he slides into her, filling her up as her walls stretch to accommodate his thickness. His biceps muscles pop as he grabs her thighs, spreading them eagle position as he fucks her.

Shar lets out a low moan, her eyes rolling back as her body gets used again, her slickness making him slip out once. Twice. Thrice, and now, Ryan grunts in frustration as his member keeps slipping out of her again and again

Hugh watches Ryan struggle, his eyes glint with a mixture of amusement.

"Think she might need something bigger to fill her up…" Hugh says, a mischievous smile playing on his lips.

Ryan's eyes narrow. "Hey.”

"I didn't mean it like that!" Hugh protests, holding up his hands in mock surrender. "I just meant—"

He doesn't get a chance to finish his sentence. Ryan suddenly grasps Hugh's intention, and his eyes darkening with desire.

Ryan shifts, making room for Hugh to step closer, moving behind Shar. With Hugh’s thighs pressed against the outside of hers, he wraps an arm around her waist, pulling her back against his chest as she still stays on Ryan’s lap.

"Oh..." Shar's breath catches in her throat as Hugh's hardness teases her entrance, his tip slick with her wetness.

"You ready for us both, babygirl?" Ryan murmurs, his warm breath against her ear sending shivers down her spine.

"Y-yes," she whispers, her body buzzing with anticipation.

Hugh's hands slide up her thighs, gently nudging her legs apart. Shar feels herself stretch around his thickness, a mixture of pleasure and discomfort as he slowly fills her alongside Ryan.

"You okay, sweetheart?"

Shar nods, not trusting herself to speak. She feels so full, overwhelmed by the sensation of both men claiming her at once. Ryan's fingers find her sensitive nub, gently circling as he murmurs into her ear.

"Oh fuck, you're doing such a good job…such a good job baby…"

Slowly, deliberately, Hugh and Ryan thrust into her at the same time, their movements deep and hard. Shar's eyes flutter open, her breath catching in her throat as she takes in the sight of the two men possessing her. She feels the stretch, the fullness, and a shudder runs through her body.

"Oh," she moans, her voice a mixture of pleasure and disbelief. "I'm so full."

"You like that? Being filled by two cocks?"

In a slow beat, both of them slide in and out of her at the same time, their large members rubbing together as they fill her completely. Using her completely.

The sounds of skin slapping together harmonize with their groans, their shafts rubbing together as they pump into her quickly. Shar catches her breath as she feels them slow down, out of breath.

"Come on and ride us, Shar.”

Shar whimpers, obeying Ryan’s command.

"That's it, babygirl," Hugh encourages, his voice rough with desire. "Ride us. Show us how much you love it."

With a soft moan, Shar begins to move. Her hips rock back and forth, taking both cocks deep inside her. The pace is slow at first, each thrust deliberate as she adjusts to the stretch. Her breath comes in short gasps, her hands bracing herself on Hugh's broad shoulders.

Ryan's hands find her hips, guiding her movements. He thrusts up to meet her, his eyes never leaving her face.

“That's it. Good girl.”

Shar moans, her eyes fluttering shut as she loses herself in the emotions. Her body moves in rhythm with the men, their hardness buried deep within her.

Suddenly, their pace quickens, their thrusts becoming more frantic as they chase their release. Her breath comes in short gasps, her body tingling with pleasure as she gets closer, inching towards the edge and—

"Oh...oh..." she whispers.

"Come for us, babygirl," Hugh encourages, his voice thick with desire. "Let go."

With a soft cry, Shar surrenders to the pleasure, her body shaking as her release washes over her. She can feel her juices coating their shafts, her wetness spilling out and staining the couch cushions beneath her. She's so wet. So fucking wet, that even with two cocks inside of her, they both accidentally slip out, rendering her empty yet again.

"Up you go, sweetheart."

Abruptly, they lift her off, setting her on the couch in front of them. Shar sits there, breathless, her body still tingling from her orgasm. She watches as the men admire the wetness glistening on their cocks, a mixture of her arousal and their own pre-cum.

But it's not enough.

Ryan wants to taste Shar now.

He turns his attention to her, his eyes smoldering with hunger. "Let us taste you, baby."

Both of them slowly lower themselves onto the couch, their bodies stretched out beside each other. Shar, her heart pounding with anticipation, nervously takes a seat atop their faces. She feels their warm breath on her inner thighs, their scruffy beards tickling her sensitive skin.

The sensation sends a jolt through her, and she can't help but let out a soft giggle. "Oh, this is…"

Shar's eyes widen as she feels their tongues begin to lick and tease her, their beards grazing her soft flesh. They both groan in response, their sounds muffled by her soft thighs.

She leans forward, placing her hands on the couch for support as she begins to move her hips in a slow, sensual grind. Her eyes fall closed as she focuses on the sensations—the tickle of their beards against her sensitive skin, the warmth of their breath, and the skilled flick of their tongues.

"Mmm," she breathes, her voice a soft whisper in the room. "This feels so good..."

Shar's breath catches in her throat as they zero in on her most sensitive spots. She can feel their tongues tracing patterns, their hot mouths devouring her, and it drives her wild.

"Oh..." she moans, her hips bucking involuntarily as she loses herself in the pleasure. "Yes...there..."

"You like that, baby?" Ryan murmurs, his muffled voice husky and thick. "Like the way we're devouring you?"

"Yes..." Shar whispers, her cheeks flaming with a mixture of pleasure and embarrassment. "I love it..."

"Tell us," Hugh urges, his tongue darting out to lick her softly. "Tell us how much you love it."

Shar bites her lip. "I—I love the way you both taste me...touch me..."

Shar's eyes flutter open, her gaze landing on the sight of her juices glistening on their beards. Below her, Ryan and Hugh feel her wetness coating their faces, her scent filling their nostrils, and it only makes them harder.

"Fuck..." Ryan breathes, his voice hoarse as he nips at her sensitive flesh.

Her hands grasp at their hair, guiding them, urging them on. "Don't...stop..."

And they don't.

Their mouths continue their relentless assault, their tongues and beards driving her wild. Shar's breath comes in short, sharp gasps, her body tingling with anticipation.

And with that, Shar surrenders to the pleasure.

Her body shakes as her orgasm washes over her, her juices flowing freely as she cries out.

"Yes..." She moans, her eyes rolling back in her head as she rides out the intense waves of pleasure.

Ryan and Hugh groan in response, their sounds muffled by her thighs. They continue to lick and suck, milking her release, wanting to draw out her pleasure for as long as possible.

Shar's body bucks wildly, her hands gripping the couch cushions for support as the sensations wash over her. She can feel their beards tickling her sensitive skin, their tongues lapping at her.

"Yes…oh my goodness. Yes."

The tidal waves fall and crash, sending waves of pleasure tingling up her body again, and again, and again…

The stale pizza still lays on the table, cold and forgotten.

[redacted-s-journal]

insatiable | 29/08/2024 | 22:48

yo,

not sure what to put on here. i was never the type to journal or write diaries as a kid. never quite understood the purpose of such things. i mean, i guess i can understand the practical reasons of it - whatever it may be - but it's one thing for the brain to know and for the heart to know.

so why am i doing this? i don't know, just thought it would be fun. it was kind of an impulsive decision. i can't remember what prompted me to start this either. this blog will serve as me writing down my thoughts i guess?

i guess don't really expect people to read these either (but that won't stop me from adding tags to this post! :D). maybe i'll look back at these entries one day. maybe i'll cringe, maybe i'll laugh. who knows.

but hey, if you're here and i have zero idea who you are, hello there.

y'know, i've always liked the idea of anonymous journals, like imagine finding a stranger's journal and reading about their lives, not knowing who they are. kinda sick.

whatever, i'm rambling. i'm mainly writing this right now because i have nothing else to do. i've already finished up with what i needed to do - assessments, email lecturers. i wanted to play some video games, but it doesn't feel fulfilling anymore. maybe i'll feel good in the moment, but it's not like i'm looking forward to doing it.

i just feel like i could be doing something more productive. i get i should set some time for myself where i can take a break from work/productivity for self-care or something. but i just can't shake off the thought that i could be doing something else, something more productive.

i was thinking of finalising a programming timeline for myself - basically just trying to learning all sorts of coding languages within a year. i'm already in a programming course, but i feel like i could be doing more, y'know? currently i'm learning SQL, HTML/CSS, and XAML/C#. but i could be doing more.

it kinda sucks, thinking like this. makes me feel like i can never do enough no matter how hard i try. but it's whatever. i just gotta push through it.

maybe i'm just burnt out.

yeah, that could be it.

but burnt out from what? existing? what's there to be burnt out about? i'm not the busiest person on earth.

i feel like i'm not doing anything - anything productive, that is, and it's killing me. i could be doing something else, i could be more productive, i could be more hardworking.

but why am i not? why am i still writing this?

whatever.

i'll sleep it off, see how i feel tomorrow. i'll try to play a game to take my mind off it.

haha, think this entry's a little too serious.

time to absolutely LOCK IN and QUIT feeling bad! just gotta STAND on BUSINESS WOOOOOO (this is hilarious btw)

Yours sincerely, [redacted]

[ener-chi]

Journal Time!! I got a fun story/experience to share today. It actually took place over 2 separate days. TL;DR Reiki and fully letting go; and under the cut: A wandering spirit finding me, pocket-dimension programming, and helping it pass over

Since the story is really long, I'll put the regular post and my musings here up-top, and then my notes under the cut.

When I was thinking about getting my Reiki 3 (aka Master's) Attunement, I remember reading someone say that the Master's Attunement is like a roller coaster, and once you get on, you cannot get off, no matter how much you want to.

I find that this is absolutely true. So many things have happened in the past 2 years that have just completely turned me and my life upside down. It definitely has felt like a roller coaster lmao.

Especially lately. Super long story short - I have been feeling more and more that I just... don't have control. I have been trying - in vain - to control my thoughts, my emotions, my stress, stressors in my life, situations, energies, etc. etc. - all in vain.

It finally came to the point where I realized - I can't control anything. There is nothing that I can do.

And in that moment, I remembered that I had dedicated myself and my life to Reiki. And I decided to just... let go. I can't control anything. I might as well just... trust Reiki, and let it take me where it wants me to go.

Since I have done that... everything has changed. I find myself in a Flow that I can't really explain. I am being guided to people and situations and things that I wouldn't have otherwise, that were absolutely divinely timed. And I feel my trajectory changing. I have been caring about things that... weren't in alignment with my Path, and what Truly Matters. I am starting to see things more clearly now.

It is... absolutely terrifying to me that I don't have any control. It makes me extremely scared and anxious. And yet... there is a comfort in knowing that... I don't have to worry, and that I'm being watched over and taken care of, and going where I need to go. And also... it's freeing. I don't have to spend so much energy trying to control things that I couldn't anyways.

Anywho. Thanks for reading! My experience with a wandering spirit will be below the cut.

I hope that everyone has a wonderful night!

Blessings!

Here are my notes from when I encountered and helped a wandering spirit pass over. If you are new to my blog or are unfamiliar with my readings, I do automatic writing, where I write down everything that I think/see/hear/feel/experience as it happens, which is why it looks the way it does.

I sense a presence in my room... Actually... It's been lurking around...

Hello... I feel hands on my shoulders...

Who are you...

Comes in front of me... What do you want... Kind of wispy...

I get more firm... If you do not tell me who you are and what your intentions are... You will be forcibly removed. I do not tolerate unwanted visitors.

Puts hands up... Having a hard time communicating with them... Perhaps human...

I soften... I feel them...

I can't speak well with human spirits... But... If you open yourself up to me, I can feel you... And communicate with you that way...

A bit hesitant but...

I apologize... When you work with spirits... You must be careful... Besides... If you found a stranger in your room, wouldn't you also be on guard??

Nods... I feel... Hm... Human spirit definitely... I see them... Wandering through the halls of my apartment complex... Found me... Drawn to me... Light... Gravity...

Did you pass?? I see... That... They are related to a friend... Or someone in the building... They passed away... Stuck around them... And then... Kind of... Wandered... Didn't know what else to do...

They loved this person... Wanted to see them again... Before... Before well... Unsure...

As I expected... It can get a bit foggy if you don't pass immediately... They saw my light and warmth... Different energy... Than everything else around... Drawn to it... Doesn't know what it is... But... Knows that it is... Safe... Good...

I smile... Again... I apologize for earlier... I... Am a spirit worker... Astral traveler... Gifted... Etc...

One of the things that I can do... Is... Help spirits pass over... To the other side...

What does that mean...

When beings die... Their spirit gets separated from their body... And... It goes to a place that I have dubbed... The Place That Spirits Go... Or... The White Place...

Very aptly named, I know...

I've been there a handful of times now... It is a place of pure light... White light... Cities... People... A lot goes on there...

I... Call it that because I don't have any other evidence or experiential knowledge to compare it to any other theories that we developed here on earth...

Anywho...

With all that being said... I can channel the same white light... And it will help you pass over...

Immediate fear... And anxiety...

I smile... I understand... You don't know what it is... Don't know what to expect... I've helped... Countless spirits... Pass over... And... The energy is... At least what it appears to me to be...

It is... Blissful... Everyone gets so joyous and happy and giggly... It's like... Home... Returning to home...

It is not a bad place... At all... It won't be like you are expecting...

Images of fear... Brimstone... No... No pain or suffering like that... Definitely not Hell...

In any case... I can help you pass over... But you don't have to do it right now if you don't want to...

But... If you want to wait... Which again is fine... I don't know if I'm comfortable with you staying in my apartment... In my space...

I sense his fear of... Out there...

I am reminded of a promise I made to Sekhmet...

Hm...

I will prepare a crystal that you can stay in... And that is the only place that you can be... Without my permission... If you want to get my attention... You can... Hm... I guess you wouldn't know how to astral travel, would you...

Shakes head...

That's fine... For now... I will say... That you can stay in the crystal... And you can only come out to get my attention...  I will make it... Spacious and comfortable in there... Don't worry...

Anxious... But... Relieved...

Alright...

At this point, I didn’t channel/automatic write it, because I was actually doing stuff with my hands physically. I took a crystal – a clear quartz crystal, which is a really good crystal to do this with, as it is kind of “blank” and easy to program, kind of like a blank piece of paper, ready to be filled with whatever you are going to put on it. In a nutshell, I kind of made a pocket dimension inside of it, heavily protected it, and made it so that it has 2 access points. I have access to them, and only those I give access to can use them (to which I gave the spirit access while he was here). I then programmed it to be like furnished and have some energy that might help to nourish a spirit, and also some Reiki should they want it. I also programmed it so that they could influence and change the furnishing and decorations and style to match something that they are more comfortable with.

3 days later...

I'm... Back in my own energy now... and my astral space... I hear a knocking on the door... I go and answer it... And... It is... The spirit again... Comes in... Their energy is... So much better... Than when I saw them a couple days ago...

Hello...

Waves and smiles...

So... Have you made up your mind... Are you ready to go...

Nods... Has something to say, though... I tune in...

Is... Grateful... For the time that he had... And the space that I gave him... He has... Spent some time thinking and was able to think and see more clearly... Able to... Ponder on things...

Also... Visited the person in my apartment complex... One or two more times... I feel... Peace... He was able to make peace with them and what made him stay in the first place...

Comes back to him... Nods... Yes... He is ready to go...

Very well...

I just need to... Untether you from the little home that I made... And then I will get you on your way...

A little bit of anxiety about the passing over...

I smile... Again... Reassure him that... From what I've seen... It is a wonderful experience... And... Intuitively... I tell him that... I actually see... A team... Of people waiting for him when he passes over... With like clipboards... They're smiling and their energy is lovely and warm... Interesting...

Anywho...

As I'm untethering and clearing his energy from the space... There is... A memory that is lingering... That I feel I need to view...

Transition...

Sun... Early summer... Really warm air... Grass... Wildflowers and dandelions... Crabgrass... In this... Grassy area...

I see him... Walking...

Hm... Older... Like... 50's... He is just... Absolutely beaming... So full of joy... On this walk... The weather is wonderful... He is... Walking with people... That I can't really make out... Silhouettes... Shadows... But I can tell that they are people that he loves... Family... I believe...

He is... Very present... Taking in everything about this moment... The weather... The clouds passing by... The air on his skin... Animals... He points out some animals skittering to I believe a grandchild... Or child he is related to...

So much joy in his heart...

I feel... The spirit... Next to me... A hand on my shoulder... Smiling... Warmly... This is what life is about... He is... Grateful... That he got to do it...

He wants to linger in this memory for a bit longer...

We come back...

Transition...

As I clear him from the little "house rock" that I might call it... I give him permission to enter into my space so that I can help him...

And as I do... I feel his presence energetically in the room with me irl...

A shape and figure moving around... Much more... Solidified... And... Has more form... Than when I saw him a few days ago...

Alright... Are you ready...

A little nervous... But... Yes...

I smile... It's going to be great... 

As I connect with this white light and energy... I feel it... Dripping down me... And opening up some blockages in my crown chakra and my hara as it moves down...

He gets a little anxious... But mostly in anticipation...

I cup my hands... Which fill with this white light/energy... I stand in front of him... He smiles and thanks me... I dump it over his head... It trickles down...

He does that thing when someone gets cold water dumped on their head... A little bit of shock... But immediately... Starts to smile... Really big...

Looks at his hands... It feels... Really good... Invigorating... Energizing... His form... Starts to outline in white... And starting from the bottom... Turning white...

He laughs and kind of moves around a little bit... He looks at me one last time... Half-way white now...

He again thanks me... I give him a nod... The whiteness completely enveloping him...

And he glows brighter and brighter... Almost blinding... And starts to fade...

As the brightness fades... He is gone... 

And I am alone...

[silasbug]

thoughts.

humm. i was just looking through my old posts and i'm kind of sad that i stopped journaling thoughts and feelings since about.. may? i felt like it was kind of therapeutic in a way, even if unproductive. it allowed me to take the thoughts, put them in a little, tangible text box and get them out of my head. if only briefly.

BUT, that's the trouble of an everything-blog. now that i've actually made friends through it, it feels strange to share those thoughts. it was the ether before- strangers that shouldn't, wouldn't, couldn't care. now it's people i know and love and that's.. scary. being known. being seen. i love it, of course. but it is scary.

"you should post whatever you want to, it's your blog". yes! of course. but not everyone needs to know everything about me and my half-baked inner machinations. it's different when it's people you know. i know my thoughts are often irrational, sometimes concerning, and i don't want to needlessly worry people that i care about. i am not crying for attention. i am not crying for help. i am okay. i will continue to be okay. not great, mind you. but okay. i will live. i've lived this long, i can keep doing it.

this blog is over 10 years old at this point. i never expected it to bring me closer to anyone and i am so incredibly grateful for the people i have met within the past half-year (and it did start with me drunk-posting something really dumb). it's been eye-opening. it's been reassuring, comforting, joyful, life-changing. i've loved and laughed in ways that i haven't in years. i'd given up on connecting with people in this way ever again, eons ago.

so... thank you. to whoever bothers to read this- you're probably one of the people that i am referring to.

thank you. genuinely.

[mailinsblogofstuff]

A lot of the advice above is already too much for someone who is very afraid of breaking the rules (or standing out), so I want to add some more options here:

Garden, especially for food, if you can. If you don't have that space, aquire the theoretical knowledge and find out if maybe you can help someone else in the area. Being out in nature is good, utilise free parks and nature reserves close to you as much as you can / are happy to do so.

Volunteer in local second hand shops or events. It's a great way to meet friendly and lovely people, even if you can only do a couple of hours every other week or so. I started volunteering 2 years ago and it really helped me be part of my community, and building a good community is such a punk thing to do.

Learn a craft that is fun and useful, like knitting, crocheting, sewing that can help you with making your own garments. Start small, with like a knitted hat, which feels so amazing when someone asks you where you got it from and you can say 🥰 I made it myself, thanks 🥰 if you end up making way more than you expected to make because it's so fun, give them to new friends you made in your community. Beware: highly addictive activity.

Educate yourself. Read books on what takes your fancy, step out of the fast fashion mindset and consume less, see if you can lead by example and get others to become interested in the why.

Enjoy your life. Look for the small things in life that are beautiful, compliment strangers, find your own clothing style that works well for you. Find what boundaries you are comfortable pushing and keep pushing, and find new ones when you get there. Read books on self development and see if anything in there works for you. Start a daily gratitude journal, find happiness in your daily life without having to buy tons of new shiny stuff all the time. Be kind to yourself and others, be considerate. Both are skills to learn, we're not born with them (I did not know that).

Sending lots of hugs and encouragement to everyone out there!

Hi there... I really love the idea of solarpunk but like. The "punk" part of it makes me so anxious. I think it's a vital part of the movement, but I can never imagine doing something like that myself.

If you have any small (tiny) tips or ideas on things I can do on a more personal level I would appreciate them. Everything seems so overwhelming and completely out of my wheelhouse and skill base

Hey ya 🌱 Sprout!! It can be hard to recognize, particularly in solarpunk, but your already punk and already doing praxis. I'm sure of it.

If you've ever pirated media, DIYed or mended clothes, have a rain barrel, spoke out against poor labor conditions, provided a safe space for anyone in an uncaring world even for a brief interaction- Your already punk!! Anyone who fights and gatekeeps that title from you bc of age, aesthics, or experience is a poser and a FED!!

That being said tho--

If you want to do more outrageous projects there's a few things I can recommend depending on how much you wanna do!!

Battlejacket- TBH the purpose of a battle jacket is to soothe this exact anxiety while also being a fun project and being a single to others!! There's many examples in both my Battlejacket tag and patch idea tag to get you started. You can get iron on patches/print paper that transfers pretty well if your not used to DIYing stuff. If this feels like to big if a step and is too much tho keep in mind you can make a battlejacket and not wear it outside right away. It's a second skin to make you feel and others feel safe, but it's also a big neon target on yourself depending on your environment and where you are. So it's ok to just make one and not wear it out until your ready!! (If you do this-- my only demand is you show me when you do it!! I want to see all of those kinda projects bc I'm obsessed with them)

Getting out there- If starting a guerilla gardening project or joining a community garden, or community association isn't an option for you- be that bc of accessibility/time/energy- I'd recommend starting to archive and getting out there! Inaturalist or falling fruit are awesome programs where you identify plants/animals/stuff outside in general. It gets you outside, your adding to a community which gets the feeling of a ball rolling building confidence and your praxis muscles!!

Root yourself in your community- This is a hard one if your busy/have low spoons/are introverted but I promise its worth doing even if you arent super active in those spaces! Even just researching the history of your town/city/neighborhood and seeing what programs are running can really connect you to the area. A lot of us due to the renting crisis never truly attach to our neighborhoods or are too busy to look into local artists. (Not your fault babes, its built to do that to feed monopolies) Pick even just 1 thing you care about (local artists, teashop, bands, libraries, community fridges, etc..) and find the closest thing to you and get obsessed. Being a regular in any space is an awesome feeling, its where you'll find friends, and you'll directly see any change you provide there.

Media archiving- There's a lot of ways of doing this one but just pirate the fuck out of everything!!!! Burn it to a physical copy, share it with your friends/family! Make mix dvds, burn movies/tv shows! Directly download youtube videos! Print off your fave fanfiction and bind them into books! Particularly with streaming services directly deleting content and getting rid of them entirely this is important work but its also just very fun!! Seeing my wall filled with dvds and books and objects makes my brain happy but also again, the physical exchange of handing the media you love to another person is so unique! Theres lots of guides and methods of doing this depending on the method and medium your using.

Utilizing public spaces- Loitering is a good one as well to push yourself and to interact with things IRL! Use your public libraries and parks excessively! Spend a weird amount of time at the mall not buying stuff! This might seem like a weird one, but its a long term thing. It shows that ppl are supposed to be out and about without spending money, but also many of these places (except the mall obvi) get funding based on usage so the more you use something the more likely they are to make it accessible to more ppl! It also makes it more normal for ppl who need to loiter to be in these spaces which again adds more accessibility. This is also one that might get you unwanted attention so decide your comfort and safety level. Pushing boundaries is good but do it at your own pace.

Vandalize! - Again we're ramping up a bit on risk levels but I recommend it, particularly bus stops or putting up posters. Bus stops is bc at least in my city they only maintenance them once they've been 'ruined' so its actually a cosmic positive to do it in these spaces. Posters are also good! Ive seen quite a few for tenant unions but also a handful of them that are food resources or call outs for police. This is mostly to have passive way to show solidarity or get a message across. But also like your doing art! Great stuff! Again tho this comes with risk if caught or if you dont know what your doing so start with baby steps (like using sharpie on an Ad you fucking hate or putting up a poster in a neutral space to get used to it)

Hopefully these tips get you started!

[leonbloder]

God Chose You

Sometimes, I get a feeling when I sense God's presence in my life, which is pretty often if I am paying attention and my awareness is not being clouded by worry or busyness.

It's a feeling that somehow I am seen and known, and I also have another feeling that is more difficult to articulate: the feeling of being chosen.

I don't mean "chosen" in the sense that I am somehow more special than anyone else, but that I have been claimed by God in some way that is beyond me, and that chosenness is simply a by-product of a love I can't understand.

Each of us has that claim upon us, whether we choose to believe it or not.

Many of us struggle to understand what it means that God chooses us and is for us, not against us.

Sadly, some of us struggle with this our whole lives. We never fully realize how much we are loved by a God whose very essence is love and who, through love, chooses us repeatedly.

There's this beautiful line from Kristin White's book The Chaos of Stars that reads:

And I'd choose you; In a hundred lifetimes, In a hundred worlds, In any version of reality, I'd find you and I'd choose you.

If you ever want to see a movie that tells the story exemplified in this quote, watch Everything, Everywhere All At Once, which won about a zillion awards a couple of years ago.

The film's basic premise is that true love, which doesn't fade and can't be explained away, crosses time, reality, and even other versions of us in other versions of history.

That's the kind of chosenness that I sometimes feel when I realize just how known I am by God.

And it doesn't take much to make me realize this. It could be seeing a sign on the side of the road at just the right moment that makes me laugh or running into an old friend in a strange place where I would have never dreamed of seeing them.

It could also be a word from a stranger, a heartbreaking song on the radio, or a surprise gift from a friend that brings joy.

I'm slowly learning that those kinds of moments are happening all around me, and all I have to do is keep my eyes and heart open to experience them.

Do you expect to experience God, or are you surprised by it when you do? Maybe you do your best to expect God to reach out to you somehow, but you are still surprised when it happens.

I know that I still get surprised by these feelings. For years, I believed I wasn't worth God's time, but now I've come to see it differently. God doesn't hold back God's presence; we do. God doesn't withhold love; we do.

We have come to believe those feelings happen to others but not to us.

But why not us? We say that we want to believe in a loving God, but we have come to think that we're not worthy of that love or have somehow become so broken that we can't experience it.

Try this today: Be intentional about looking for evidence of God's presence around you all day. Give it a day, and then think about what you experienced. Journal about it if it helps.

Most of all, remind yourself that you are worth God's time because God not only created you but is all around you and within you. Pray for awareness, and let go of all the negative self-talk you might be tempted to say to yourself.

Then, wait to see what happens.

And may the grace and peace of our Lord Jesus Christ be with you now and always. Amen.

[holdmyhooch]

Seeking New Cellmate

If you ask anyone who truly knows me, they'll tell you I possess impeccable coping skills and emotional maturity beyond compare. I'm currently two years into my marathon panic attack known as county jail and awaiting transfer to prison. I've survived it once before and I have some idea of what to expect. I've almost got my crying down to about twenty minutes before I go to sleep each night except for when I rented Five Feet Apart on my tablet which doesn't count. That's new. We're each assigned a tablet now and we can rent movies for just $9. We can earn that in just forty or so hours. Unless someone with DSS or a job loves us. Or we start a journal and try to guilt strangers on the internet into giving us money and if I could convince my family to set up a donate button.

My case is closed. I no longer have an attorney to advise me not to write a journal and put it on the internet. All our communications are monitored and living under the eye of Sauron, aka the district attorney, is a lot like running for office except you've got nothing to gain and everything to lose. They can (and they do) take anything we say out of context and use it to turn us into moustache-twiddling cartoon villains just itching to get your children to some railroad tracks.

They know we're afraid to be indicted. It's a declaration of war. The only reason plea bargains even exist is because the courts are always endlessly backlogged and it'd be impossible to take each and every case to trial. There's virtually no standard of evidence during indictment. They throw absolutely every additional charge they can think of at the wall to see what sticks because they have no reason not to. We have no right to legal representation during the proceedings. We do have the right to take the stand and speak on our own behalf. But those of us with enough sense to heed our attorney's advice waive that right. There's nothing we can say that'll improve our odds. The only way to go is down.

The case becomes public information. If the media get involved the prosecution gets an audience and they start considering the impact the case will have on their career. Words like "consecutive" and "for each count" start coming up. If we're here because we turned down a plea bargain, this is when we begin to experience fantasies about discovering our hidden time-travel powers.

And if we win? Double jeopardy doesn't apply in cases of dual sovereignty. And if they can make a case for interstate commerce violations, and they usually can, the feds can claim jurisdiction. Did the case involve anything at all that was manufactured or purchased outside of the state where we were charged? Welcome to the feds. At least the food is better and if we're lucky we get to ride in an airplane.

We don't have mirrors in here but I was told by an angry guard who was looking for a big white guy with a beard that I'm a big white guy with a beard. I'm only missing my wisdom teeth and in here this makes me a member of the One-Percent. Because I was popular in high school, I read a lot of fantasy and science fiction. Other inmates, being highly observational creatures, see all this reading, teeth-having, white-being business as cause to believe I'm smart. They are mistaken. They ask me questions I don't know how to answer. Questions about complex legal concepts. Questions about how to make chloroform. Sometimes, when I tell them I don't know, they get upset and ask why I always be actin all smart and knowin shit.

I'm not smart and most days it doesn't feel like I be knowin shit at all. But as they say, in the land of the blind the one-eyed man is king. Except not exactly. I don't run things in spite of having lived on this tier longer than almost any other inmate. I don't possess any jailhouse leadership qualities like "charisma" or "intimidation" or "spider web tattoos." I know this because one time the jail librarian asked me if I'm a gamer. She said her son is and that we look alike. Her son honestly seems pretty cool and I bet he was also popular in high school. I told her I'm not really much of a gamer. I have several hundred hours in Stardew Valley and over five hundred games on my Steam account.

I try to be true to myself in here. The tough guy act only actually works on TV. It'll work on a few people. But someone always sees it for what it is and it almost always ends with an alarm going off and some track-marked, bargain-bin MGK lookalike being dragged to the infirmary while the rest of us are choking on OC spray.

In the before-times I lived the American Dream. I made a comfortable living in a respectable office job that I hated. I still don't miss it. Fuck you and your burnt microwave popcorn, Kevin. I'm presently employed as that white nigga who be drawin shit sometimes. I don't really draw that well but I know how to trace and sometimes it's enough to earn a tasty honeybun.

I usually don't charge for drawing. I enjoy doing it. It lets me feel like I'm releasing a little dove of happiness into the world. The "for no particular reason" cards are my favorite. They have such a beautiful purity that can't be bought or sold. Like when a father asked me to make a SpongeBob card to remind his daughter that he loves her and he thinks of her. Obviously I told him that intellectual property theft is a crime that hurts us all and that I'm not about that. But still, it was a nice thought. My other neighbor asked me to do a card of him and his wife holding hands in a meadow wearing Trinitario green. It was still better than the guy who made me do a handkerchief under an implied threat of violence.

I'm the official unofficial librarian. My family sends me books and I'm pretty good at making reading recommendations. The secret is to use stereotypes. If someone's name is Murder, this is a valuable clue - Murder probably doesn't want to read The Secret Garden. What really keeps him turning those pages are "hood books." This is a literary genre I never knew existed until jail. It seems like an acquired taste.

But people do still surprise me. The most voracious reader I've ever encountered was Stretch. He had burn scars all over his torso and giggled as he told me it was because he was too high to notice he'd set himself on fire while cooking a batch of meth. But the reason he was in prison was because he and his friend got drunk and thought it'd be fun to have a pellet gun war. The kind used for hunting small game, not the kind Ralphie wanted for Christmas. His shot caught an artery and his buddy bled out. YA and fantasy were his favorite genres. He really liked reading David Dalglish.

I'm unaffiliated. I applied to the Latin Kings one time but the guy, whose name was Sin and looked like an old witch, told me I had to get my weight up. Then they went and recruited this kid who wasn't even as fat as me which was a clear case of favoritism. I ate so many honeybuns for nothing. Well, not really nothing.

I live with mental health issues. Most inmates do. Except the ones who say they don't and they're usually full on poo-slinging crazy. A couple of days ago one of those guys thought his family was on top of the TV and had a meltdown. He went to the box for an individualized off-camera rehabilitation session. My therapist diagnosed me with major depressive disorder, PTSD and mommy issues so I'm on a robust dose of antidepressants and benzos. At least on the outside. They give out Suboxone like leftover Halloween candy but benzos are "dangerous and addictive controlled substances." So they gave me sedatives instead. Stopping benzos cold-turkey is risky and dangerous so they entrusted me with a urine sample jar filled with Gatorade powder. They even let me take it back to my cell. You should only stop taking a prescription medication under doctor supervision or with a delicious sports drink. They have electrolytes which is what plants crave.

The psych meds help but a fellow inmate once told me I shouldn't take them because "chemicals be messin witcho brain." But he liked smoking funny cigarettes that smelled like that time somebody at work plugged two croc pots into the same power strip. So I'm on the fence. Figuratively speaking. They get mad if we get too close to the fence.

I also live with a chronic pain condition. It started getting really bad during my previous bid. I wasn't able to hold a coffee cup without using both hands. I couldn't open my jaw wide enough to bite into an apple. I struggled to walk sometimes. I put in a few sick call slips and a few short months later this old guy in a white coat claiming to be a doctor told me it's because we all get aches and pains. I showed him my hands. One thumb was swollen and about twice the size of the other. He explained that they don't have to be the same size. We agreed to disagree and I settled for ibuprofen. He hadn't realized he was dealing with a master negotiator.

After my release I showed a real doctor my "asymmetric thumbs." He reassessed the initial diagnosis of aches and pains and referred me to a rheumatologist who diagnosed me (on sight) with a disorder that causes my immune system to hate my hips, thumbs and most recently my knees. Flare-ups can be triggered by stress but since prison is such a laid-back environment I suspect some combination of exposure to mad rhymes, farts and being shouted at for asking for toilet paper.

This journal is my new therapy. I hear adaptive coping is the new vogue. You know what you get when you crack a beer and douse your life in napalm? A lifetime of regret and several mildly interesting stories. Prison is an ancient, forgotten crawlspace filled with dead, rotting animals, novelty beyond measure and always more questions than answers.

I'm going to offend people. Partly because it's impossible not to but also because I want to tell the truth as I've experienced it. My intent isn't to upset anybody and I really do try not to. Otherwise I'm just a troll and that's so 2008. What I really want to do is amuse, enlighten and delight and possibly give you something to read while you're pooping at work.

Those of us who've been incarcerated live a different reality. When I say something stupid or insensitive, try to think of me like when your grandmother says the colored girl you brought to dinner was a pleasure and even had excellent hygiene. Or better yet, like Joe Biden. I mean well. Bless my heart.

Prison culture is regressive. We haven't even implemented safe spaces yet. I've seen gang members slash the faces of their own friends just for associating with transgender inmates. We segregate ourselves, we beat our chests and we fight over whether Drake gets more money than LeBron. I was in a facility that had to go into lockdown for a week when a disagreement between two classy ladies in the visit room lobby escalated into a gang war that resulted in dozens of cuttings and stabbings.

Thank you for reading. I hope you've enjoyed my first post. Failing that, I hope I've at least inspired you to leave rude comments that my family won't tell me about because they think I'm emotionally unstable. I intend to write as often as I can. Unless this isn't an overnight success and I get discouraged and in that case fuck you you'll never understand my talent.