#black woman spiritual journey
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
blackgirlslivingwell · 5 months ago
Text
youtube
How To Shield Your Self-Esteem & Combat Internalized Negativity As A Black Woman
In today's brief self-empowerment video we're talking about how to avoid internalizing negativity.
3 notes · View notes
hiddenpie · 6 months ago
Text
The thing about being the dream girl or angel is that everybody dreams of you but you’re never real. You’re forever an ideal, otherworldly.
When you show that you are human as well and not just a dream you are no longer the dream. You are just another human.
You let them down.
How do you deal with that?
It’s empowering yet somber..it’s bittersweet.
You’re judged as weird and made fun of yet people desire to exist at the frequency you do. This is not something that is to boast about because personally..it’s lonely. When what you crave and desire comes from a different source, the admiration and interest or fascination from others means nothing.
“All that glitters isn’t gold” understand that.
You are your own muse. The life force comes from you and people come to you for it. Literally.
What do you do with that?
Understand yourself more.
Tumblr media
80 notes · View notes
simoneindiaa · 5 months ago
Text
Tumblr media
The Lovers frequency, it Loves me too
xoxo, SIS <3 =)
64 notes · View notes
missexquisite · 6 months ago
Text
I'm a big believer that, if you have a stressful life. You live stressfully. Therefore, if you want an effortless life. You need to live effortlessly. Let go, let be, and act on your highest excitement. Allow things to unfold as they do. Allow your path to change if it does. Let the creation take shape in the most effortless way. Without you having any control over it. Choose the reality you want to live in. Take action if it feels in alignment with that. Let everything else happen as it does. Do this everyday. Faith is a habit.
Tumblr media
19 notes · View notes
cocofetti · 3 days ago
Text
We have been so conditioned to fear and hate the darkness. But darkness is the void is where things are birthed, where things come to be! The imagination runs wild in the void! It is the divine feminine, the sacred woman spirit deities that the patriarchy has sought so hard to eliminate. We need to embrace the darkness, as well the light. Both have their place spiritually. The proper proportions of both light and darkness is what turn a piece of art into a masterpiece.
9 notes · View notes
free-grandmaa · 3 months ago
Text
"As the sun melts, so do I.. Away I go, astray to the wilds."
10 notes · View notes
baeway954 · 6 months ago
Text
How to start your Spiritual Journey ❤️
youtube
Thank you againnnn for 1.04k ilyyyyyy❤️❤️❤️ I’m so grateful!!
11 notes · View notes
kaiyastarz · 7 months ago
Text
Tumblr media
Ascension
15 notes · View notes
divine-mystic-princess · 2 years ago
Text
Tumblr media
54 notes · View notes
saiwriting · 4 months ago
Text
Thoughts, Thoughts, Blog #7
Jealousy is a disease and I think I may be finally cured. When someone chooses you, trust them. Trust them until they do not choose you anymore. Then you will know how to choose yourself.
Recently I've been having such a huge issue with self-image and self esteem (lo and behold we are in the 7 day range of my menstrual cycle). My life had always been a game of comparison because to me, comparison was nothing but competition. And I was fueled by competition until my engine would eventually burst into flames. Every grade and soccer game and achievement award was earned by merit of comparing myself to those past me and following in their footsteps. However, not having competition in all areas of my life proves to be at my detriment.
Other women. Man, we are afraid to admit that we compare for fear of being labeled Queen of the Pick-Me's. But those fears are being taken advantage of and will run you into the ground if not treated with love, care, and understanding. I compare. Or, I did, as of today. A lot. But it kind've really struck me today as to why I had been so triggered by the notion in my current relationship as of late.
Back in high school, I had this boyfriend who I thought completely blindsided me when he broke up with me. Of course I was heartbroken to pieces as to what I thought was love, but was even more broken when I had discovered I had essentially been replaced by someone of a similar archetype. Short. Black. Pretty. Big Butt. I was typecasted and blacklisted from my starring role. Shit. And that's when I officially felt that it was a competition.
A few years later I would enter another relationship with a man who had established an even stronger typecasting when comparing me to his bitch ex girlfriend. Alas, I had an image to withhold. I became so afraid of the notion that I could be replaced by someone just a pinch prettier, just a pinch blacker, and just a pinch thicker than me. It became a race of insanity within my brain that only I could struggle with because it went against my moral obligation to be a girl's girl. I never wanted to be this way, but it was the life lesson apple that fell on top of my head for me to eventually discover the gravity of this situation today.
There had just been a specific person who was so triggering as an idea to me recently because all that I knew was that there was some sort of similarity in archetype and proximity. I hadn't even really interacted with her past instagram likes and the occasional...staking out the competition. But last night I had realized how ridiculous that notion was to me. Last night and this morning, I solved my jealousy. Hallelujah and amen, right? But that's why I'm not ashamed to blog about it now. My boyfriend chooses me everyday, and I choose him.
When there is a feeling within me, I never quite know how to feel it. It congeals and pressurizes inside of my chest and slowly struggles to seep itself back into the crack it made in my heart, but if you're not bleeding, then call a doctor because you're NOT HEALING.
Not everything is a competition and it is so much easier to thoroughly love the nature of others when I am no longer hypnotized by the idea of a threat.
I love you all, and don't be afraid to face your demons. You might find that they look just like you. Check out my other posts for more introspection.
Love.
5 notes · View notes
theereina · 2 years ago
Text
Tumblr media
SUNDAY RESET
37 notes · View notes
unicorntgoughts · 4 months ago
Text
My place in the world is not as an object for anyone’s desire.
5 notes · View notes
blackwomanvibes · 5 months ago
Video
youtube
Top COP KAMALA Is THEE OP + MISOGYNIOR IS NOT THE ANSWER | Part 1 of Part 1 of Part 2
Top COP KAMALA Is THEE OP + MISOGYNIOR IS NOT THE ANSWER | Part 1 of Part 2 | BlackWomanVibes #KamalaHarris #Copaganda #DNC #asexual #asexuality #blackwomanvibes As an Ace (Asexual) life outside of cishet patriarchal normativity often is lonely. Even as part of the LGBTQIA+ community, we are often relegated as a mystery due to the lack of media/social representation of Asexuals and being replaced as a + sign after the Q in LGBTQ(+). Amatonormativity may rule the day, but we still exist as the alternative and that’s beautiful. 💜🖤🩶🤍 Today in this video we are critiquing the political landscape and what Kamala Harris’s camp CAN do and CANNOT do to improve the lives of Americans. Kamala is THEE TOP COP but she is not to blame for an already shitty system. However, she WILL NOT be the savior or new blood to bring forth  radical substantial change to the material conditions of Americans. Watch Part 1 of 2 then come back for Part 2 of Part 2. https://youtu.be/MEQt_5fGd3s Like the content? Support the content creator Cashapp: $BlackWomanVibes Socials: BlackWomanVibes 🔮 🧿             
2 notes · View notes
inherpower · 2 months ago
Text
Where is the love?
I have a deep yearning to know and feel God’s love. I’m in an interesting season in my life. There are some relationships that I have upheld as a form of identity for myself and through those relationships I have loved as deeply as I knew how to. All of those relationships have transformed and no longer provide the same sustenance that they once did. I’m being broken down, my sense of identity completely shattered. It’s as if God has inserted himself into my life and decreased my interactions, changed my heart posture so that all I could do was come to Him. In reading 1 John 4:7-21, John tell us that God is love and when we love, we know God.
"We love because he loved us first"  -- 1 John 4:19
But what if you’re view on love and how you were giving and receiving love gets damaged? I find myself having to start fresh and go back to square one, learning what love truly is and is not. I often tell a story of how back at the start of 2020 (before the pandemic hit) I shouted to God at the top of a mountain saying that I am ready to be who HE created me to be. My life utterly broke down after that prayer. In fact I’m still clearing out the rubble as I write this. God stripped me of all perceived safety and security in anything that was not Him. Now I spend a great amount of my time praying and allowing God to rebuild me. This hasn’t been easy. If you are married, a parent, an exalted child, a person of status in your career, imagine that position or title that you hold most dear being adapted into what God desired for you, not the other way around.
One thing I’ve asked God in the past and I’ve heard other people ask is why would God allow for a certain situation and circumstance to happen? God broke it down. Bear with me. At times we get ourselves into situations that weren’t even what God wanted for us in the first place and then we ask why He allowed it to happen. God gave us free will. We made those decisions of our own volition. In fact God loves us so much that He will often send us a messenger telling us hey, that might not be the direction you wanna go in and we may get defensive and push back on that message and say that WE have a right to choose. And if the situation or circumstance that we may be getting into is really bad, God many send a messenger multiple times in many different forms. So why be mad at God? 
Yeah I know it’s a hard pill to swallow but the beauty is that we can come to Him when it all comes down and He will rebuild us and set us on the path that He designed for us. When I asked God to come into my life He cleaned house. All that I had known, believed and stood on was dismantled. Initially I called out to God asking why. Why was I being punished? To make matters worse I had to be silent and not clap back or defend myself when I wanted to. In rare moments when I was crying and pleading to take action He would tell me Do nothing. Say nothing. Let me take care of it. It took some time but He calmed my storms. My conversations with God turned into prayers then they turned into praise. A situation would come along and try to knock me off my square and I started thanking God for His love and protection. I may have been rattled for a bit but I got back to center and grounded myself in God’s love.
So back to what I was initially presenting in regards to my relationships. In each realm of my life (family, friend, self) God has revamped my relationships to show me how loved I am. And for the relationships that still need some work, He has set them aside and is taking care of them on my behalf. While He does that I lean into Him to nourish me. That’s all He’s ever wanted is for me to come to Him so that He can wrap himself around me and remind me that I am loved. There is a verse that has been my beacon of light when it comes to love. When you have a chance read all of Ephesians 3:14-21 but I will share the parts within this larger text that I rest on.
"...that according to the riches of his glory he may grant you to be strengthened with power through his Spirit in your inner being, so that Christ may dwell in your hearts through faith - that you, being rooted and grounded in love, may have strength to comprehend with all the saints what is the breadth and length and height and depth, and to know the love of Christ that surpasses knowledge, that you may be filled with all the fullness of God."  -- Ephesians 3:16-19 ESV
I’ll come back to this passage in another post and dive deeper into this cause it’s so good. But I want to end here with this and let you meditate on these words.
1 note · View note
jadenvargen · 10 months ago
Text
free online james baldwin stories, essays, videos, and other resources
**edit
James baldwin online archive with his articles and photo archives.
---NOVELS---
Giovanni's room"When David meets the sensual Giovanni in a bohemian bar, he is swept into a passionate love affair. But his girlfriend's return to Paris destroys everything. Unable to admit to the truth, David pretends the liaison never happened - while Giovanni's life descends into tragedy. This book introduces love's fascinating possibilities and extremities."
Go Tell It On The Mountain"(...)Baldwin's first major work, a semi-autobiographical novel that has established itself as an American classic. With lyrical precision, psychological directness, resonating symbolic power, and a rage that is at once unrelenting and compassionate, Baldwin chronicles a fourteen-year-old boy's discovery of the terms of his identity as the stepson of the minister of a storefront Pentecostal church in Harlem one Saturday in March of 1935. Baldwin's rendering of his protagonist's spiritual, sexual, and moral struggle of self-invention opened new possibilities in the American language and in the way Americans understand themselves."
+bonus: film adaptation on youtube. (if you’re a giancarlo esposito fan, you’ll be delighted to see him in an early preacher role)
Another Country and Going to Meet the Man Another country: "James Baldwin's masterly story of desire, hatred and violence opens with the unforgettable character of Rufus Scott, a scavenging Harlem jazz musician adrift in New York. Self-destructive, bad and brilliant, he draws us into a Bohemian underworld pulsing with heat, music and sex, where desperate and dangerous characters betray, love and test each other to the limit." Going to meet the Man: " collection of eight short stories by American writer James Baldwin. The book, dedicated "for Beauford Delaney", covers many topics related to anti-Black racism in American society, as well as African-American–Jewish relations, childhood, the creative process, criminal justice, drug addiction, family relationships, jazz, lynching, sexuality, and white supremacy."
Just Above My Head"Here, in a monumental saga of love and rage, Baldwin goes back to Harlem, to the church of his groundbreaking novel Go Tell It on the Mountain, to the homosexual passion of Giovanni's Room, and to the political fire that enflames his nonfiction work. Here, too, the story of gospel singer Arthur Hall and his family becomes both a journey into another country of the soul and senses--and a living contemporary history of black struggle in this land."
If Beale Street Could Talk"Told through the eyes of Tish, a nineteen-year-old girl, in love with Fonny, a young sculptor who is the father of her child, Baldwin's story mixes the sweet and the sad. Tish and Fonny have pledged to get married, but Fonny is falsely accused of a terrible crime and imprisoned. Their families set out to clear his name, and as they face an uncertain future, the young lovers experience a kaleidoscope of emotions-affection, despair, and hope. In a love story that evokes the blues, where passion and sadness are inevitably intertwined, Baldwin has created two characters so alive and profoundly realized that they are unforgettably ingrained in the American psyche."
also has a film adaptation by moonlight's barry jenkins
Tell Me How Long the Train's been gone At the height of his theatrical career, the actor Leo Proudhammer is nearly felled by a heart attack. As he hovers between life and death, Baldwin shows the choices that have made him enviably famous and terrifyingly vulnerable. For between Leo's childhood on the streets of Harlem and his arrival into the intoxicating world of the theater lies a wilderness of desire and loss, shame and rage. An adored older brother vanishes into prison. There are love affairs with a white woman and a younger black man, each of whom will make irresistible claims on Leo's loyalty. 
---ESSAYS---
Baldwin essay collection. Including most famously: notes of a native son, nobody knows my name, the fire next time, no name in the street, the devil finds work- baldwin on film
--DOCUMENTARIES--
Take this hammer, a tour of san Francisco.
Meeting the man
--DEBATES:--
Debate with Malcolm x, 1963 ( on integration, the nation of islam, and other topics. )
Debate with William Buckley, 1965. ( historic debate in america. )
Heavily moderated debate with Malcolm x, Charles Eric Lincoln, and Samuel Schyle 1961. (Primarily Malcolm X's debate on behalf of the nation of islam, with Baldwin giving occassional inputs.)
----
apart from themes obvious in the book's descriptions, a general heads up for themes of incest and sexual assault throughout his works.
11K notes · View notes
gildedneon · 4 months ago
Text
That Which I Cannot See
Tumblr media
That Which I Cannot See - Part 1 - Pure Imagination
Respectfully, you may not use my work, but you are welcome to share it. My work is only intended for those 18 and older as it contains explicit adult themes.
Summary: Basically A Star is Born but make it Sleep Token. A video of you singing Take Me Back to Eden gets attention online and you're invited to sing backup vocals at their next concert. Only, you end up doing a lot more than just that. The first in what will be at least a 3 part series.
Pairing: Vessel x Fem!Reader 
Tags: Hand stuff (for now), mask play, concealed identity play, obscured vision/partial blindfolding, is this a musical now?, shower play with the lights off, monster kink? if you squint?, spiritual cult leader Vessel, dirty talk.
Word Count: 5.4k
A/N: I enjoy candlelit showers while blasting Sleep Token and inspiration struck one day while listening to Take Me Back to Eden. What if? So I wrote it. I have already planned out a part 2 & 3, so fear not, our journey has just begun.
Read on Ao3
-------------
So there I was, doom scrolling Instagram when *ping*
“Sleep_Token: We loved your video” My brows furrow. That can’t actually be their official account. Tapping the notification, I switch to my finsta, where I post anonymous videos of myself singing. I recently shared a clip of an acoustic cover of Take Me Back to Eden that got a decent amount of attention, but I didn’t think it got that much attention. The message thread opens just as another is coming in. 
“Sleep_Token: How would you feel about joining us sometime?” What the hell? 
I click their profile. Blue check mark. Holy shit. Shock has me so caught up I can’t even think of a clever response. Or any response for that matter.
What does ‘joining us' mean? Like for an orgy or going to a show? Because I’m down for both, but I only have tickets for one of those things. At least my brain is still cracking jokes. I stare at my phone and figure out something to say.
“Hi! Thanks! I actually will be at the show this Friday. I can’t wait :)” My heart does a little somersault as I hit send. 
“Sleep_Token: Perfect. Our manager will reach out for details. Bring something black to wear. We’ve got the rest covered!”
What the fuck does that mean? Reaching out for details for what? What is ‘the rest’ and how is it ‘covered’???
*ping*
The DM from the manager comes in. 
On auto-pilot, I go back and forth with the manager. Realization sets in… I’m going to be backstage at the Sleep Token show. I’m going to meet the Espera and sing with them. On stage. At the Sleep Token show. Friday. In less than a week. What the fuck.
Four days… I have four days to perfect my outfit. Immediately, I FaceTime my best friend. She answers on the second ring.
“Callie… you’re never gonna believe this.”
“Alright??… spill bitch”
-------------
My stride lengthens to keep up with the woman leading me through bright lit hallways. The week had flown by in a blur. Now it’s Friday and I’m being led backstage in sweats and a tank. I hadn’t fully wrapped my head around their invitation. But what I really hadn’t wrapped my head around was what had been developing since that night. Once I had gotten off the phone with Callie, I saw I had a DM request from a username I didn’t recognize.
“Hey it’s V” I think my brain had short circuited. It all felt like it came out of nowhere. I guess that’s the thing about change, it doesn’t happen until it just… does. We had started chatting  and it continued throughout the week, getting to know each other a bit, what we enjoy, what we don’t, our favorite colors, and even a bit of flirting. Another strange development in a situation that materialized all too quickly. But it was exciting. It has been a while since I’ve been truly excited about something or …someone. 
I think it helps that we don’t really know each other. Our identities are a secret. It’s sort of like getting to know the contents of a box without getting to know the box, if that makes sense. It’s hard to explain, but I like it. Being myself comes easier this way. There are less distractions.
My guide comes to a stop and knocks on a door. Anticipation grips me as it opens, a woman dressed in black greets us with a smile on her face. 
“Come on in! We’re excited to meet you.” The Espera, or the three female background vocalists, usher me into the dressing room and to a spot in front of the mirror. Their welcoming energy helps quell my buzzing thoughts. We fall into easy conversation as I work on my hair and makeup. The dress I chose is sexy but functional. Thin straps, square neckline dipping in a quick plunge, finished off with a thigh high slit. My hair tumbles around my shoulders and down my back in a lion’s mane of waves. My lips are painted the darkest shade of red, the only real part of my face that will be seen from behind the gold mask that lays on the counter before me.
The Espera give me a crash course in backup vocals. No pressure, just last minute winging it in front of 13,000 people. I still can’t wrap my head around this, even as they help fit the mask to my face. It looks just like theirs, intricate bronze scrollwork curling down my cheeks, leaving only my mouth and jaw exposed. The mesh panels over the eyes allow me to make out shapes and light. So I can see plenty, but it doesn’t feel that way. For me, I might as well be blind. It’s the feeling of being out of control, a vulnerability that leaves me a bit raw and on edge.
A knock raps at the door and my ears grasp at every little sound, attempting to make up for my lack of sight. The women gather as it clicks open. Their blurry forms disappear to the sounds of scuffling shoes. The door closes. My blurred vision watches as a dark figure slowly makes its way across the mirrored space. Fully blind I would know it was him. The magnetism of his presence is threatening to drag me in like the gravity of a blackhole. It’s supermassive…
I hold my breath as he surveys me. It would be a lie to say that I am not intimidated under his gaze. Despite the disguise, the feeling of vulnerability remains.
“This suits you. How does it feel?” He purrs his approval. The tension in my chest eases. 
“Thank you. How does what feel?”
“Your transformation.”
“Transformation? Into what?” My breath hitches, I can see his dark figure looming behind me.
“Your true self.”
“I’m not really sure what you mean by that. As excited as I am, I am also a little nervous.”
“What are you nervous about?”
“I’m not sure if it’s one specific thing. I just don’t know what to expect. I’ve never done this before. I know I’m wearing a mask but it still feels scary to have people actually watching me. This is worlds away from posting anonymous videos online.”
“I can understand. For us, the disguises are about showing the parts of ourselves that do not feel comfortable in our daily lives. Whether that is because we feel they should be hidden or we lack a suitable outlet. So it’s really not a disguise at all, but a revelation. By wearing this mask, I take off the invisible one I wear everyday. I embody the aspects of myself that I wouldn’t otherwise. So ask yourself… What would that feel like for you? Who would you allow yourself to be if you knew you were free from judgement?”
“I think it would feel freeing. But how am I supposed to figure that out tonight?”
“A lot can happen in just one night.”
Unsure of what to say, I sigh and tilt my head. A gentle tap on the side of my mask is his response. I stare straight ahead, looking upon our blurry reflections in the mirror.
“Envision yourself right now. A different version of you, a fantasy. Who could you be? How would you carry yourself? What presence do you bring? Take a minute. Close your eyes if you need. Think of the answer and then feel it. Become it. This is the transformation. It is first in your mind and then, in your being.”
I take a breath, close my eyes, and do as he says. I see the masked version of me, painted with black, a version of me that no one knows. Not even myself. She can be anything. I can be anything. This essence blossoms in my bones, radiating until it anchors itself into my being. Excitement ripples under my skin. I open my eyes.
“How does it feel?”
“It feels… different. I see myself but also… more.”
Vessel tilts his head.
“I saw paint. On my neck and it ran down.” Skimming my hands over my arms to illustrate my point.
“Stand.” I pray my knees don’t give out as I follow his command.. His proximity sends little electric waves skating along my skin.
“You know it’s true what they say. Depriving one sense, heightens the others. Close your eyes.”
I do as he says. Anticipation coursing through me.
“Touch, for example.” 
His hands skate up my arms, over my bare shoulders to my neck. His fingers stroke along my skin, pressing into the muscles and working at the tension. Other parts of me start to crave the same and the weight of arousal settles between my thighs. I exhale a sigh. His fingertips play along my skin, alighting little sparks. Just as I’m being lulled into a daze, he stops. Moving away from me, he leans against the counter, silently staring. The vulnerability isn’t as uncomfortable now. Security has replaced whatever fear I felt before. He reaches for something on the counter.
“May I? I have an idea for you with this paint.” 
“You may.” I tease lightly and I hear the sound of spinning plastic. 
The light of the room is dimmed as he steps closer. Both hands come around my neck and fear takes root in an instant. What am I doing? I’m alone with a man who is dressed like a demon god, his hands are wrapped around my throat, and we are in a room where no one can hear me scream…probably. Oh no…. Should I be worried about how that turned me on?
Instead of squeezing the air from my lungs, he works the paint onto my skin. His fingers splay as he drags his hands down both sides of my neck. His fingernails scrape over my collarbones, stopping just before the neckline of my dress. My eyes fall closed and I can’t help the sigh that escapes or the shudder that runs through my body. Nor can I help imagining what it would feel like to have his hands on my thighs. Leaving a sinful trail of evidence, as he explored more sensual areas of my body. Circling behind me, his hands clasp my arms, leaving one last mark.
“Look at yourself.” His deep voice jarring me from my haze. Even with my obscured vision, I can clearly see the twin trails of black that drag down my neck, stopping just before my breasts and the stark handprints on my upper arms.
“It looks like I’ve been marked by a monster.” I say, amusement clear in my tone. 
Silence. A brief moment of tension, then his hand wraps around my throat. He leans closer to me.
“Are you calling me a monster?” His teasing is mixed with tones of darkness. I shudder at the thrill. 
“No. Monsters are scary and I’m not scared of you” …Yet 
“Do you want to be scared of me?” His voice is low in my ear.
“Maybe a little” Maybe more than a little.
I see his head tilt in the mirror. I can’t see his eyes but I feel them flaying me alive, gleaning every dark desire snaking through my body. He releases me, putting a bit more distance between us. 
“As much as I would love to explore that, it’s about time we get ready to go on. You’ll be brilliant. If you get nervous just remember my touch and how it’s plain for everyone to see.” I could feel him wink at me as he said that. It wasn’t the worst suggestion. That would certainly distract my thoughts from wandering into anxiety, but it would distract me in other ways. Blushing, I step through the door he holds for me, and follow him down the hall.
-------------
Like a cutscene in a movie, suddenly I’m on stage and the show is taking off. The lights and sounds are overwhelming. I allow myself a few minutes to adjust. Slowly, I begin to pick up the swaying movements from the Espera. Taking cues from their hazy shapes. Then, I allow my voice to softly join theirs. The flashing mass of screaming fans mere feet away is difficult to tune out, but I let them blur into shapes through my mask and my voice rises to the music. With each song they play, my confidence grows, and I feel that vision of myself, from the dressing room, coming to life.
Well, I know what you want from me
You want someone to be your reflection, your bitter deception
Setting you free, so you take what you want and leave
Excitement strikes like lightning. Of course I knew this song was coming, but being a part of it? Dancing while every instrument reverberates through my body?  
Won’t you come and dance in the dark with me?
Tapping into that sensual side of me, I allow it to take form, my hips swaying to the rhythm. I trail my fingertips over my body, and pleasure ripples behind my touch. Hearing whispers of my voice wafting through the background is unreal.
Lipstick, chemtrails, red flags, pink nails
I once made a comment to Callie about how I fantasize about being in an orgy while this song plays because it never fails to turn me on. The way the beat builds and morphs, the lyrics on top of that, it feels like seduction. My voice vibrates through my being, sparking a dark desire that flares with the melody. My eyes fall shut as I remember our time together in the dressing room. I feel his phantom touch along my skin and surrender myself to the sensations.
You make me wish I could disappear
The music dies down, somber notes begin to rise. Recognition flutters in my heart. This is the song that first drew my attention to him… and his attention to me. My eyes snap open on instinct, despite my obstructed view, I see a dark figure approach me, blocking out the crowd. My heart begins to race. I tilt my masked face up at his towering form. He grabs my hand and leads me from behind my place in the background. There we are, front and center. I have no idea what he is doing or what he expects of me. My blood roars through my ears, beating against the tense curiosity of the all too quiet crowd. Curious cheers ring out, but my focus is drawn to him.
I dream in phosphorescence 
Bleed through spaces
My nails scrape restlessly against the fabric of my dress. I have no idea what he wants from me. We never talked about this. Am I just supposed to stand here? Am I supposed to sing a specific part or harmony? My thoughts race as panic begins to sink its claws into me. 
His finger curls under my chin. The gentle weight of him pulls me from the quicksand of my mind. 
I’m transfixed as he sings to me.
My, my those eyes like fire I’m a winged insect you’re a funeral pyre. 
A calm intensity settles in as I focus on the figure before me. Like a siren song his entire being draws me in until there is no one else. No crowd. Not even the band. Just him and me.
The music begins to build. I feel it in my chest. His hand lightly strokes my chin in invitation. The energy builds in my stomach and moves up my throat. God, it feels like it’s going to burst out of me. So I close my eyes and let it.
I will travel far beyond the path of reason. Take me back to Eden. Take me back to Eden
Our melody turns into harmonious wails. 
Take me back to Edeeeennn
My eyes open to a flash of white teeth as he grins down at me, the music continuing its heavy intensity. That grin against his mask and paint, looks every bit like the monster I mentioned. The music drops into a quiet tempo and he steps closer, leaning in as his hood brushes my cheek. 
“Stay.” He commands, before sauntering off, just as three chords are played. 
Well yeah I spit blood when I wake up
He crouches towards the swarming crowd as he recites the lines. Waving hands and screaming smiles line the front of the crowd. As I watch him move across the stage, I remember his painted marks on my skin. My cheeks burn as he approaches me again.
I need you to see me for what I have become
Long fingers wrap around mine, bringing my hand to grasp the microphone, joining him for the chorus. 
My, my those eyes like fire 
My voice is a sweet backdrop contrasting his, as we sing together until the beat drops off. The hand folded atop mine loosens, his arm falling slack and I let go of the mic. His free hand sneaks through my hair, cradling my head in his hand. The sounds of birds chirping flit around the notes of the piano. This intimate moment sets me ablaze as I remember there are thousands of people watching. Jealousy licks at my sides from the scrutiny of their gaze. I pay them no mind. 
His hands fall from my hair, as he lifts the mic, but sings to me.
I guess it goes to show does it not 
That we’ve no idea what we’ve got until we lose it
His words resonate through my chest. Understanding the opportunity tonight presents, I want to make the most of this night, of this connection, and just enjoy whatever is to come.
No amount of self-sought fury will bring back the glory of innocence
Sound pours from me as I join him singing once again. The music sweeps me along and I ascend with it.
We were tangled up like branches in a flood
What happens next takes me by surprise. Vessel loops an arm around my waist, drawing me in until my dress brushes against his belt. He screams the ending lines with such intensity I feel as if I’m being hit by a hurricane. I can barely make out what he’s saying. My heart seizes with another little thrill of fear. All I see is the fierce glint of teeth through the contortions of his mouth as the music fades out. 
Piano keys begin to play, as he leads me back to my place among the Espera. This is the last song of the show, Euclid. What a beautiful note to end on. I channel all the joy in my little heart into singing this final song. I know maybe the lyrics aren’t the happiest but I can’t help but feel light while singing it. Our voices fade out, as he brings things to a close.
The whites of your eyes, turn black in the lowlight
So give me the night, the night, the night…
-------------
We stopped by the dressing room long enough for me to grab my belongings and then he was leading me through more hallways. He holds a door open for me and I step into a gaudy locker room. Leading the way, I follow him through the space and into a long room. The harsh fluorescence glares off of the white tile lining the walls. On the left, is a mirrored wall of sinks and who knows what else. On the right, benches border each door frame, opening into showers. 
We walk a few stalls down, I hang my tote and arrange my clothes on the bench as he wanders away. Pulling out a hair tie, I twist my hair up into a messy bun. Butterflies twist through my belly as he returns to my side, hanging a towel on my hook. We’ve shared this entire night, this entire week, without seeing each other’s face, perhaps we’ve seen a deeper truth. Either way, I’m not ready for it to end.
Inspiration strikes and I stride back to the main door and begin to flick the lights off one by one until all that is left is the glow of the adjoining locker room. His masked face tilts as his attention focuses on me. Grabbing the door handle, I pull it closed behind me until only a necessary sliver of light shines through. Giving my eyes a second to adjust, I carefully make my way back to my bench. I feel another thrill of excitement at the atmosphere. The near pitch black, the silence all around us, almost like something you’d see in a scary movie. I hear clothes rustling from the bench he is at. I’m still working on undoing the straps of my heels when I hear the harsh splash of water against tile. Once all of my outfit has made it into my tote, I take cautious steps into the awaiting shower.
“I wanted to keep the mystery going but maybe it’s a bit too dark.” So dark, that I can barely make out the other person in my proximity. My hands feel along the cool tiles for support.
“Give it a minute. Your eyes will adjust.” He’s calm. Still. Giving me space to acclimate. No longer clutching at the wall, I can make out the shape of him easier. Barely, I see the steam from the water and pumps of soap attached to the wall.
“Will they adjust enough to be able to tell the difference between which is the soap and which is the conditioner?” I tease.
“Hmm might have to go with good ole trial and error on that” Our laughter echoes against the walls. 
Stepping closer, I let my gaze wander. The lines of his muscles catch what little light there is. My breath hitches, the difference in our height is exaggerated now that I am barefoot. The way he looms over me keeps his face masked in shadow. Again, the thrill of being alone with this strange, dark god shivers through me, bringing my awareness back to the arousal that has been burning all night.
“Well I will gladly volunteer as the test subject.” 
“And I will gladly accept. I didn’t want to assume…”
“I would actually prefer if you do assume.” I step closer to him. Even in the pitch black I can see his head tilt down at me.
“Did you enjoy yourself tonight?”
“I did.  I’ve never experienced anything like it.” I say almost reverently.
“Shall we keep the experience going then?” A shiver runs through my body
“Yes.” I breathe..
“Sing for me?” My brows jump up. Posting videos of me singing alone in my house and singing background vocals could not prepare me for this.
“What do you want me to sing?”
“Anything” My mind goes blank all for one song. I take a deep breath to still my nerves. 
Come with me, and you’ll be, in a world of pure imagination
Tentatively, I recite the words.
Take a look and you’ll see
Into your imagination
There is no life I know
To compare with pure imagination
His voice joins mine. 
Living there, you’ll be free
I stop, allowing him to finish the verse
If you truly wish to be
Courage is easier found in the dark I realize, when my hands begin to trail along his chest and I continue singing.
If you want to view paradise, simply look around and view it
Anything you want to, do it
My long nails gently scrape across his abs as his fingers trace the black paint along my chest.
“What a mess I’ve made.” The timbre of his voice sends desire rushing through me. Reaching back, he grabs something from one of the dispensers and lathers his hands. The creamy substance spreads down my shoulders as he begins to work out the tension in my muscles. His hands began to slip down to above my breasts. Working in slow circles. The combination of excitement and desire keeps my mind sharp despite the haze of lust. His thumbs swipe across my skin with a delicious pressure. Grasping the tops of my arms, he leans towards me and my lips hum in anticipation. His mouth grazes past my cheek. 
“I think… this is conditioner” He murmurs in my ear. I can’t help the surprised giggle that escapes me. I can feel his amusement even as he turns from me. The muted clicks of the dispenser can be heard over the shower stream. When he faces me again, the energy shifts. A thrill runs through me as he grabs the back of my neck with one hand.
“May I?” He echoes the familiar words he spoke earlier in the night.
“You may.” I breathe and his lathered hand begins running down my neck, as his other creeps up into my hair. My head tilts back. The glow from the distant light flashes off his sharp grin. His hand moves lower down my chest, as he works at the paint there. I’m not sure which is more arousing. Him painting me or washing it off. My nipples harden and a dull throb settles between my thighs just as his large hand sweeps over my breast. His fingers capture my nipple, flexing and rolling against my soft skin. I exhale shakily as he moves on to the other, giving it the same treatment. Grabbing my hips, he pulls me into the water, washing away his claim, his touch laying stake to a new one. Then he flips me around, I catch myself on the cool tile wall. As he steps closer, I can feel him pressed against me. 
“I very much enjoyed having my mark on you, clear for everyone to see.” His voice is low against my ear, as his lips drag over my neck, gently nipping at my skin. The hand on my right hip slides down my thigh. My legs tense in anticipation. His fingers begin swiping in teasing strokes, closer and closer to where I burn for his touch. 
“Tell me, what has you so wet for me?” I let out a whimper as his fingertips slide through the evidence of his claim. 
“Was it on stage? When I whispered in your ear?” Stay. I shook my head. That definitely turned me on but it wasn’t where it started. The memory of us in the dressing room, with his hands around my neck flickers through my mind. Just that quick thought stokes the already well fanned flames of arousal.
“Before the show in the dressing room” I say and receive a hum of approval. I’m rewarded as his finger dips inside me ever so slightly. His strokes are shallow, only increasing my need for him.
“What about it?” His fingers slow, urging me to respond. It’s hard to think through the fog of my desire.
“When you painted my neck.” Relief washes over me as he picks up his still too slow pace. His left hand moves from my hip, trailing over my fluttering stomach, paying brief attention to my breast, before sliding around my throat. My thighs clench around his hand before I can help myself, my body vibrating with anticipation.
“Ah so this is what you like?” His grip tightens as he speaks and my hips rock back desperate for more than this teasing. All I accomplish is grinding my ass against his cock. He inhales sharply but presses himself fully against me. 
“So eager.” He laughs. “Is this what you’ve wanted?” His fingers still move at a languid pace, but curl deeper inside me.
“Yes” I nod enthusiastically.
“But it’s not enough is it?” I shake my head. Because despite the pleasure I felt, the need was greater. The need to feel more of him, to have more of him. He obliges, sliding in a second finger. I cry out, my cheeks heat from embarrassment at the echo. I press my lips together, stifling my moans. His fingers still. He leans forward, his chest against my back, pressing me into the wall.
“Don’t stop singing for me now” He purrs and the rumble in his chest vibrates through my own.
“It’s just you and me. There’s no one else.”
I exhale heavily as my mouth parts. Right away, he rewards me with deliberate strokes of his fingers. The hand around my neck lazily works at the muscles there and waves of ecstasy shoot through me. My nails catch on the grout between the tiles as pleasure begins to coil tight in my muscles. I’m lost in the way my moans reverberate around us as his thumb carefully starts working my clit. It’s consuming. The stretch of his fingers, dragging over every sensitive spot inside me, playing my body like an instrument. His hips roll against my backside, grinding against me. I can feel the hard length of him, thick and hot against me. I begin to crave more and the thought alone of feeling all of him inside me brings me towards the peak. 
“Someday I will have all of you and you will have all of me. Until then I will have the memory of how wet and tight you are around my fingers. Wishing you were wrapped around my cock instead.” My hips rocked, practically riding his hand as the pleasure ramping up inside me spun so tight I felt it would snap at any moment. “Every time I look at my hand I want to remember how it felt to have you come on my fingers.” A ragged cry left my throat as his words pushed me over the edge. The tension inside me broke. Shattered shards of pleasure sliced through me as my body shook. His hand slipped out of me and I felt him work himself against my ass. Tremors skittered through me as I began to come down from my high. The cooling fire in my core alighting anew at the knowledge that he would soon follow. The hand around my neck had slid to brace himself against the wall.
“I want to feel you claim me again.” Shortly after those words left my mouth, I heard him groan. He shuddered against me as I felt hot spurts of him against my hip and back. His cheek came to rest against the top of my head. We stayed pressed against the wall as our breathing and heart rates slowed.
“Well I’m afraid I’ve made a bigger mess than when we started.” My body vibrates against his as I laugh. He pulls me back to the water and gets to work cleaning me off.
“Ves. Thank you, for tonight.” The nickname felt a bit strange on my tongue but appropriate given the standing of our relationship now.
“The pleasure was mine. Thank you for joining us and thank you for indulging me.” 
“Of course. I wouldn’t miss a once in a lifetime opportunity.”
“I’m flattered… We will see each other again, you know.” Now it’s my turn to tilt my head at his words.
“Will we?” The possibility hadn’t even crossed my mind. Everything happened so fast.
“If you would like… There is still so much left to explore.” Even in my sated state, the purr of his words spark arousal. 
“Oh I think I would like that very much.” Tension crackles between us. God if I don’t get out of here I’m going to be in over my head. Exhaustion was starting to creep into my bones. 
“I think it’s past my bedtime.” I say with a yawn. That gets a little laugh out of him.
“Well you run along home before I’m inclined to drag you back into this cave and never let you go.” Again, he’s teasing, but the edge in his voice promises something darker. “Or someone comes looking for us and turns all those awful lights on.” His hands grip my shoulders as he leans down and plants a kiss on the top of my head. “We wouldn’t want to ruin the mystery.”
“We sure wouldn’t” Reluctantly, I walk away. I dry off the lingering evidence of what just occurred between us, slip into my clothes, and return to the harsh light of reality.
123 notes · View notes