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#anyway. they also think I've been quieter lately

golbrocklovely · 7 months

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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."

#colby brock #colby brock fanfic #colby brock fic #colby brock fanfiction #colby brock x reader #colby brock smut #colby brock one shot #colby brock oneshot #golbrocklovely's 13 nights of halloween

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obsessedwithitall · 2 months

Text

It's Embarrassing (Eddie Munson x reader) (Part 1)

I woke up this morning with this in my head and have been trying to write it all day. Also, I don't like smoking, I'm just going through a phase. Can you tell I've never smoked? I am the squarest.

Everyone is in their 20s, Eddie and reader have been in a secret relationshipish for a few months. Angst.

There is a part 2 I think. I just need to get the ending right. Feedback is welcome xx

Part 2 is here

***

You pulled your t-shirt over your naked body before you took the cigarette from Eddie, put it to your mouth and immediately started choking on the smoke.

He looked at you with concern. “You ok?”

“Yeah,” you coughed, “super.”

“You have smoked before right?”

“Yeah.” You waited a second before shaking your head no. He gestured for you to give it to him and he took a long drag, not choking like you did.

“What?”

“That was hot.” You buried your face in his neck and he began to laugh. You in nothing but your t-shirt, Eddie in nothing but his boxers, yes, you could get used to this.

***

That morning was rushed as you and Eddie got up awfully late and then you had to go home for your uniform. The door to family video was already open when you got there, leaving your car quickly and running into the store.

“I'm sorry.”

“Don't worry, I did the morning rush.” You rolled your eyes at Robin. There never was any morning rush.

***

The phone began to ring.

“Family video, how can I help you?”

“I can think of a few ways.”

A very recognisable voice came through the phone and made you drop your customer service demeanour. “Stop.”

“I can't help it. I missed you.”

“Its been like an hour.” You checked around for where Robin had gone but couldn’t find her so assumed she must have gone into the back.

“I'd say nearly 2.”

“An hour and 10 minutes is not nearly 2 hours.”

Eddie replied quieter than before. “2 whole hours I've been thinking about those cute little panties you left on my floor.” You blushed.

“I'm at work, you can't say that.”

“No one can hear though.”

“You should be at work.”

“I am.”

“Are you calling off the garage phone? Eddie, anyone could hear.” You tried to sound annoyed but somehow you weren't as mad as you wanted to be.

“No they won't. Its only me in now, everyone else had having an early lunch.” That relaxed you a little. “Anyway, you coming over again tonight?”

Your faced twisted a little, unsure if you should. “I don't know, I've gotta do laundry and I should probably clean my apartment.”

“I could always come help?”

“I don't know how helpful you’d be.”

“I could always help you with some of your clothes...”

The thought made you scrunch your face and attempt to hide a huge grin.

“Clean or dirt-”

Robin started her way back through the store to you, so you quickly cut him off.

“Thank you for calling madam. Goodbye.” Your voice quick and very dry, you slammed the phone down on the receiver quickly.

“What was that about?”

Hiding your blushed face by looking down you picked up a pile of videos and took them to the back of the store. “Erm... they were asking about Betamax.”

***

It had been a slow day. So slow that it seemed to go on forever. The sun had finally started setting when Eddie and Steve meandered into the store. Neither you nor Robin, who was sat on top of the front counter, greeted them when they came in, to busy staring into space and sucking on lollipops to notice them.

“What is that?”

Robin pushed the round top of her lollipop into your neck, just below your shirt collar.

“Robin, that's gross.” Your neck felt sticky now.

“That is gross. Who did that to you?” her faced pulled into a huge grin.

“Stop.” You pulled your collar down a bit and looked at your reflection in the tall windows. For fuck sake. You’d checked for marks this morning, clearly not well enough.

“Who was it? Did you stop over, oh is that why you were late this morning?”

“I wasn’t late.”

“Tell me.”

“No.”

“How did I not notice that sooner? Who was it?”

“Its noone.”

“Is it because those bozos are here?”

She eluded to Eddie and Steve hanging around the back of the store.

“No, its-“

Robin yelled across the room, “Munson, Harrington, get out.”

“Why?”

“She won't tell me who’s been attacking her neck because you two won't leave.”

If the ground would swallow you up now that would be wonderful. You could feel your face flushing bright red, and now not only Robin but Steve and Eddie were all staring at the purple stain on your neck. Steve with curiosity, Robin with disgust and Eddie with sick pride.

“I'm not going anywhere. I want to know who our dear friend has been slutty with.” Eddie sang. Why was he doing this to you?

“I'm not being slutty with anybody.”

“Who was it?” Robin asked again.

Then Eddie started with the rapid fired accusations.

“Was it Jason?”

“Ew.”

“Paul?”

“No.”

“Craig?”

“No.”

“Harrington?” Steve looked very confused and shook his head.

“Eddie-“

“Michael?”

“Stop it.”

You’d had enough. Storming away from the front counter you left your 3 friends behind and made a beeline for the employee bathroom, tears threatening to burst from your eyes. Robin pushed herself away from the counter to follow you but Eddie stopped her.

“I went too far. I’ll go.”

***

The bathroom stall door shook as someone knocked on the wood.

“Go away, Robin.”

“Not Robin.”

You opened the door and Eddie was stood far too close, blocking your exit. Pushing him out of the way you threw your hands against the sink to hold yourself up and stared into the mirror.

“I'm sorry, I went too far.”

“You think.”

“Why don't you tell them?”

“I can’t. I have a reputation to uphold.”

“A reputation?”

“And this,” The bruise on your neck seemed to grow under your gaze. Everyone would know. What would your parents say? What would everyone say? Even if you covered it with makeup, Robin and Steve knew so all your friends would know soon. You snapped. “This is embarrassing, Eddie.”

All you heard was the bang of the bathroom door as Eddie stormed out, not saying a word.

***

You knew your car was going to be much warmer than any welcome you got from Eddie but you hadn’t seen him in a week, so you needed to talk to him.

Wayne answered the door and your heart sank.

“Hey, sweetheart. He’s not here.”

“Oh, ok. Thank you. When he comes back, can you... ask him to call me? He’s got my number and everything so...”

You stepped back on the porch slightly, before thinking again.

“And if he’s needs to um, I know your line isn’t always good, so if he's got to use the phone down the street, can you give him these?”

You placed at least 2 dollars worth of quarters in Wayne’s hand and smiled a tight-lipped sad smile at him. He nodded and showed you the same.

Wayne watched you get into your car and drive off before he shut the door. Eddie stood in the kitchen pulling at his lip.

“You going to call her or what?”

***

Part 2 is here

Any feedback is welcome and encouraged. Thank you so much for reading 💜💜💜

[I only watched the first 7 episodes of season one of Stranger Things so I'm sorry if it feels wrong. I will not be watching anymore]

#eddie munson #angst #secret relationship #love bites #eddie munson x reader #stranger things #fluff #i wrote this #its embarrassing

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distilledmelancholy · 10 months

Note

Ok cool!! So, this is extremely random but I need comfort. Can we have some headcannons on Wally with a reader on her period (I’m pretty puppets can’t have periods but just roll with it 😅)

Can you also make it we’re reader has a heavy flow and bad cramps and gets EXTREMELY moody? That’s basically me on my period 💀

This is such a sweet ask, we all need comfort sometimes. :) I'll also make these headcannons to be gender inclusive for my trans kings and nonbinary folks <3

Also I'm sorry this took me forever to write, I've been literally addicted to Minecraft lately 💀

Wally Darling with a partner who is on their period.

While puppets don't really have the same anatomy as humans, and not totally understand some things, they can realize when you're uncomfortable or in pain.

Which grabs the attention of the absolute most of a neighbor, and he doesn't understand why you're in so much pain that you're curled up and crying. He does know that something is wrong though and will try and help you in any way he can.

Will also ask so. many. questions. and try and know everything there is to know, even if he doesn't understand why the human body even does the whole "menstruation" thing anyways.

He doesn't strike me as someone who would be grossed out with any bodily fluid really because puppets don't have any, and therefore don't understand what they even are.

Is attached to your hip for however long it lasts, constantly attending to your every need.

“…hello?” a hand waves in front of your face.

You blink for a moment before fixing your gaze on the person talking to you, “…huh?”

“Are you feeling alright neighbor?” you make eye contact with Wally as he places a hand on your arm “you look a little red, did you forget to put on sunscreen?”

You did feel rather hot. And uncomfortable. And in pain. Why did you agree to a neighborhood picnic anyways? As you open your mouth to brush Wally off, a violent pain overwhelms you, making you let out a strangled cry and you double over in pain on instinct.

“Oh goodness! Are you okay neighbor?!” Wally rushes to your side and rubs your back soothingly.

Embarrassment and irritation flooded through you as a scene was beginning to form, “yes, just..." you clench your jaw for a moment, "argh!” you growled and pushed Wally away from you.

You didn’t look at him as you pushed yourself to your feet and started to walk away. You didn’t see his pupils shrink and a look of total devastation painted across his face. Even in the way he held himself, he was truly hurt.

You couldn’t even begin to think about your actions, the wave of anger that suddenly washed over you took control as you briskly walked towards a quieter and shadier part of the woods. The harsh sun beat down on you as you tried to breathe through the pain.

You didn't even notice that you were being followed.

"Neighbor!" A voice called out to you. When you turned, you saw Wally running to catch up with you, "I'm sorry neighbor, I didn't mean to embarrass you. I was just worried about you!"

While he was rambling, you got a moment to look at him. He seemed sweaty and frazzled, and it dawns on you that you were incredibly mean to him for no reason, and yet he is still in front of you, worried and apologizing. Your anger and irritation melted away and a feeling of guilt settled on your chest. Your face felt flushed, and you were sweating a ton. From the sun, or from the embarrassment you weren’t too sure anymore.

Another wave of pain washed over you, which made you bend over and wrap your arms around your lower torso.

Wally places his hands on your upper arms and looks up at you, “I know what's wrong, I remember you telling me about this, neighbor. You should go home and rest."

You allowed yourself to be tugged in the direction of your home by Wally, who took great care in guiding you and comforting you whenever you grimaced in pain.

When you made it to your house, Wally escorted you inside and lead you over to the sofa in your living room.

"Can I get you anything? What can I do for you?"

Looking into his eyes, seeing the concern written all over his face was too much for you.

"I don't know what's wrong with me!" You cried out, tears quickly forming in your eyes as you begin to breakdown, "I'm sorry Wally, I'm so sorry!"

As you're sobbing, Wally comes closer, trying to comfort you which leads you to wrap your arms around him and pull him in for an embrace.

"I know you didn't mean to," Wally mumbled, "but let me help, please neighbor."

You took a couple of breaths, trying to calm down, "I-I don't want help" you whimpered, "I just want you here with me."

Wally's eyes widened for a moment, before he gently wrapped his arms around you, "of course I'll stay neighbor," he nestled into the crook of your neck, "you are the absolute most after all."

#welcome home #welcome home puppet show #welcome home arg #wally darling #welcome home wally #wally my beloved #welcome home wally darling #wally darling x reader #wally darling x you #writing request #welcome home writing request #welcome home x reader #welcome home x you #welcome home x y/n #wally darling x y/n #wally darling x self insert

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callofdudes · 1 year

Text

Rant time because I've been thinking about this for way to long.

Look, we've all heard Alejandro saying "Special forces!" Versus Rodolfo saying it. (If you haven't look up Rodolfo saying special forces or something idk.)

Anyway. We all know he sounded much less intimidating than Alejandro. But being who I am let's dive into that because we all know Rodolfo has a very thick shell and can be intimidating if you push him too far. When Alejandro was taken Rodolfo was ready to bite that American experimental blondes throat out. But Rodolfo has also been shown to be somewhat nervous and in the back when conversation takes place. He lets Alejandro speak for the most part and a huge majority of his dialogue is directed to Alejandro. This could be because he is the colonel and a rank above him, or because he is more comfortable when Alejandro takes the lead. (Y'know😏)

But when Alejandro and Rodolfo are shouting (or, attempting too) they are probably in foreign territory or at the very least out of the base. Now Rodolfo isn't exactly anxious but he is shy, which is one reason why he's quieter. But Rodolfo did not become a sergeant major by being a pushover, nor is he one. So what about on base when he's in charge, where he is comfortable and he knows the ropes. He knows exactly what to expect and where anything could hit him from. He'd be more confident yeah?

He would be a little more sympathetic toward recruits than maybe Alejandro but is not afraid to use his voice. (Alejandro can attest to this.) But Rodolfo doesn't raise his voice or snap at someone unless they are treading on his heels constantly. He's patient and will give recruits a few chances to stop messing around before he gives it to them straight. This can lead recruits to thinking Rodolfo is a pushover or at the very least will get Alejandro to do the dirty work which we know is not the case.

It's honestly funny to see recruits try to push Rodolfo around and then get absolutely scared to shit when Rodolfo just snaps back and tells them to get their asses in gear.

"(Rando name), what are you doing on the bench?" Rodolfo asks, approaching with his hands behind his back. The recruit has been pushing Rodolfo lately, testing training a lot more than the average recruit which had Rodolfo's patience waring thin.

"Oh, sergeant, I was just taking a break."

Rodolfo hummed. He approached the bench and looked out at the rest of the recruits running their laps. "And why do you think you get a break when they do not?"

The recruit shrugged. "I was just tired. It's not a big deal."

Rodolfo's eye twitched.

Alejandro looked up from where his nose was buried in paperwork, he could sense a storm brewing. He chuckled and moved over to the window where he could see the grounds.

Rodolfo took a deep breath. "Keep running, or you'll be running through your lunch break."

"Sir-"

"GET BACK ON THE FIELD! NOW!" He snapped, jaws glinting his pearly teeth. The recruit scrambled off the bench when Rodolfo faked to lunge at him and he snuck himself back into the running line.

"Any more recruits who think they can skip out on laps will be personally supervised double the laps throughout lunch! Are we clear!?"

They chanted back, "Yes sir!"

"ARE WE CLEAR!?"

"YES SIR!"

Also, Alejandro has 10,000,000,000% husband instincts. If Rodolfo is mad or upset he will just know. They could be in a meeting trying to strike a deal and it's going particularly rocky. Rodolfo could shift slightly or breath a little more forcefully than normal and Alejandro knows he's about to blow a fuse.

But seriously, I just think Rodolfo needs the right thing to make him snap and he'll put the General Of Defense in his place.

#alejandro vargas #call of duty headcanons #rodolfo parra #alerudy #rodolfo x alejandro #rodolfo parra headcanons #i stand by the notion that Rodolfo is a badass when he wants to be #also very protective :)#despite popular opinion he does bite

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possibilistfanfiction · 10 months

Note

ava teasing bea about her short haircut growing too long

[turned out silly! god bless]

beatrice wanders out of your bedroom around 11, hums in thanks when you get up from the couch where you had been reading to fix her a cup of coffee. she had been up early to surf, like usual, then back to sleep after you had laughed at her drooping eyelids and kissed her soundly after she'd showered. it's not new, not really, but the war is finally over and it feels like a series of small miracles: to sit on the couch as the day warms; to watch the sun float to the middle of the sky after the marine layer burns off; for beatrice to sleep without nightmares, to curl up into your side with her cup of coffee and kiss your shoulder. things are quiet, quieter than they've ever been since you'd had a piece of metal shoved in your back and life roaring through your veins; since you had kissed beatrice, sure you were going to die; since she had kissed you through tears when you finally made it back.

it's normal, these days, for her to nap: even though she won't fully admit it, she's catching up on, like, a whole lifetime's worth of rest, you're pretty sure. and a whole lifetime's worth of pleasure too, which you are all too eager to experience with her: the smell of peonies in the spring, the burst of taste from the plucots from the farmer's market, the feel of her hand buried deep inside you. and then rest — a pleasure borne of safety, of comfort, of finally, finally, not feeling like she's going to die. like, in some way, she deserves to.

she sighs into your neck and you kiss the top of her head, settle your fingers there. 'your hair is getting long.'

she huffs, quietly and mostly for show, which makes you smile. she sits up and rearranges her limbs, still casual, still soft and unassuming in her boxers and her favorite hoodie. 'i know.'

'you growing it out?' she's actively pouting about it, but fun to ask anyway, just to see her frown sharpen.

'ugh. no.'

'so you're just... vibing with this? it's, like, very 2010 justin bieber. i'm into it, though, don't worry.'

it adds a blush to her pout, which is delightful. 'horrible.'

'mmm. harry styles, original the x factor audition? more british, just for you.'

'ava.'

you laugh.

'you think you're very funny, don't you?'

'i'm, like, the funniest person i know.'

'that's okay,' beatrice says, a little smile sneaking its way into the corners of her mouth — delighted enough to make you suspicious. you narrow your eyes just in time for her to say, completely seriously, 'because, you know, looks aren't everything.'

'wow.' you clutch a hand to your chest. 'this is a worse pain than any injury i've ever had. a blow to my soul, beatrice. my very soul.'

it's worth it all, just for her silly laugh, for the terrible wink she offers you, for her apology in the form of a forehead kiss, gentle and reverent. 'i don't think that's true.'

'obviously not,' you say. 'and, also, i know it's a lie. i'm hot as hell. actually, hotter. i would know.'

she sighs, exasperated and overwhelmingly fond.

you brush back bangs that fall into her eyes. 'what's up, then?'

'i —' she pauses, fiddles with the chain around her neck, picks at her fingernails until you take her hand and squeeze. 'i don't know. ptsd and executive dysfunction?'

'ahh. so, super fun in your head lately, huh?'

'i—i've told you,' she says, a little hesitant.

'oh, babe,' you say, scoot closer to her and offer your hands. 'i know. and i'm sorry. you know i understand.'

she nods.

'can i help? i can schedule an appointment with your barber; we can make a little evening of it, if you want. or we can totally just come back here after. you know i'm, like, a sucker for a fresh fade.'

she grants you a gentle smile, a real one, a little indulgent and just for you. 'i do know that.' she squeezes your hand. 'our sisters asked if they might come over later, actually. so, if you could help me make the appointment for late afternoon, then maybe we can have a pizza night afterward, or something.'

never in your wildest dreams a few years ago would you have dreamt of having a pizza night with a bunch of nuns, or ex-nuns — one of whom is your hot butch partner, the rest of whom are your family — but, 'fuck yeah. that sounds awesome.'

beatrice nods, straightening and focusing seriously. you hide a smile. 'okay, i can do it. make the appointment.'

'you can.' you rub her back. 'or i can.'

she gets out her phone, opens her texts. there are... a lot of unopened messages, and you make a mental note to go through them with her tomorrow, but she scrolls to her barber's contact and sends off an extremely polite and perfectly punctuated text, and, like, god, you love her.

'okay, well, can we, like, make a music video or something with this hair before we go or something?'

'no.'

you scramble to follow when she stands up — lithe and graceful and powerful; you're still undeterred. 'what about a video in the car? taylor swift gay love interest?'

'oh, and you're taylor swift in this scenario?'

'you love her. i know it. speak now is like your favorite album of all time.'

'it certainly isn't.'

you follow her into your bedroom, just for fun, and nod when she tells you that her barber is available in an hour.

'hmm. 1989?'

she gives you a muffled sigh from the closet as you flop back onto the bed, and you smile up at the ceiling. her favorite taylor swift album is red, and you know it for a fact, but that's okay; you'll let her keep her silly secrets for now.

she emerges in a men's sage green linen co-ord set, slouchy and perfect, and pristine white sneakers, and holds out her hand. 'lunch?'

you pop up and lace your fingers with hers.

beatrice orders six pizzas, all different kinds from the sourdough pizzeria nearby, which you try to tell her is too many, but she's still a little anxious about things so you let her have it; you can eat leftovers and force camila and yasmine to bring some back to mother superion anyway. beatrice also sets the table outside, which is one hundred percent ridiculous, but it's cute so you just tell her it looks nice and put the whole stack of pizza boxes in the middle. there's a whoosh and sulfur and then mary, lilith, camila, and yasmin are dusting themselves off in your living room. you hug them all tight, compliment mary's freshly done braids and camila's t-shirt, yasmine's new earrings. you make it a point to annoy lilith with as many pick up lines as possible until she just walks away from you to skulk around on the patio while you get everyone wine or beer, but she takes the glass of a beautiful chardonnay she and beatrice like with a small, genuine smile.

'your hair looks nice, beatrice,' camila says, digging into her slice of pizza once you're all sitting around the table.

beatrice steels herself for a moment, and you all know she's still working through everything: a lifetime of trauma, from her parents, the church, a holy war. 'thank you,' she says, soft and sure, and you share a smile with camila.

'yes,' lilith says, and beatrice is mid-eyeroll when lilith contines: 'very love island boy.'

there's a brief pause and then mary is delightedly and loudly laughing, beatrice is blushing up to her ears, and it doesn't take long until the entire table dissolves into giggles.

'oh my god,' camila says, 'let's have a love island party!'

'it is summer,' yasmine agrees.

'i'm ordering you a waterbottle, right now,' mary says, phone in hand.

beatrice groans and looks to you, exasperated and adorable. 'better than justin bieber, at least.'

you grin, put your hand on the back of her neck, run your fingers along the grain of her buzzed hair until it fades neatly into the short top, where it's always inevitably, and fashionably, a little messy. 'i'd crack on and then couple up with you every trip to the firepit, if that's what you're asking.'

'i'm leaving,' she says. 'i'm on a journey of self-discovery, and you're all the worst,' but it's all posturing: she laughs and eats her pizza and is apparently swayed into actually having a love island party next weekend by your promise of wearing your tiniest bikini for it.

a few days later, a package does arrive on your front porch, and you almost snort seltzer through your nose laughing so hard when beatrice opens it to find a water bottle with her name on it in bright pink, curly font.

#wn #wn fic #avatrice #avatrice fic #so here we are i guess! lmfao #butch bea 🥺🫡#finally... the love island boy drag #INSULT not drag eg a drag slow but that’s also fun #iykyk

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fitgothgirl · 5 months

Text

Hiii look at me making a post! Haven't been super talkative here lately and hardly ever share my workout pics. Here's the one I just finished - I've never seen the t-rex before?? Fuck yeah. 🦖

Things are going pretty well. Since October I've still been successfully slowly cutting back on weed. I'm at the point now where I'm smoking a bowl per evening, if that. I have it locked up in my kSafe until 8pm each day. Soon I'll be updating the rule to 10pm, and after that I'll start smoking every other day, and so on. Me from six months ago smoking all day everyday would not believe I'm at this point! I'm proud. 😁 January 15th is the day I start my official break, two weeks before we leave for Costa Rica, so I'll be sure I won't be withdrawing by then. And when we come back I'm going to keep the break going to hit 8 weeks. Not quitting weed forever but I don't want to come back to the all day everyday shit... Not even daily either. Sounds crazy to me, probably sounds normal to most others though I'm sure lol.

Weight loss has slowed a bit but that's expected now that I'm smaller and I'm like a friggen solitary pound above having a normal BMI lol. Also ever since daylight savings ended, things have been harder to do and I've been feeling more blah. Story of everyone's life I'm sure... So considering all that, I'm still doing really well! No guilt or bad feelings about slowing weight loss or slightly less frequent workouts; no need to rush. At this point I've lost 29lbs/13.2kg total, 19lbs/8.6kg of which have been since late July.

I've also noticed visible muscle! The way my shoulder meets my trap when I flex is more defined, I have more biceps, I can often see my quads, my calf muscle has become an obstacle while shaving lol, etc. Loving it. 💪🏼

An NSV includes wearing more of my women's t-shirts; 95% of my t-shirts are men's shirts (band shirts and Blackcraft lol) since they're more comfy and I often don't like how women's t-shirts fit (depending on how they're cut; women's clothes have zero consistency). But I do have some women's t-shirts and I'm wearing them more again since they fit much better and I'm more confident (my skyrocketing confidence is another NSV!). And another NSV is needing a new belt, and soon here I'm going to need new pants! 😅

Therapy has been helping with all this too of course; I love my therapist. 🖤 She keeps things in perspective and makes sure to hype me up about how awesome I'm doing and tell me to be proud of myself. And since I'm doing so well, she makes sure that I give myself grace when I'm feeling more in a lull. Since things have been harder since DST, I've gotten a bit down or at least worried that I don't want to go back to how I was (health-wise, weed-wise, etc.), but we had a good pep talk yesterday. I'm not even regressing, just slowed down a bit. But who doesn't slow down this time of year...

Anyway, not sure what else to update since it's been a while lol. Had friendsgiving on Thanksgiving weekend, went to Vegas for my bf's work Christmas party a couple weekends ago... Last concert was Psyclon Nine in mid-November (pretty sure that's where I got a cold that emerged a few days later... Either that or an Addams Family musical we went to the next night. But all better now!). And I can't believe I'm saying this but I don't think we have another concert planned until ✝️✝️✝️ (Crosses) in friggen March. So uncharacteristic for us lol. I'm sure we can find something if we want, or I've also been wanting to hit up a Death Guild since it's been a minute for that too. Nothing else too crazy going on, our calendar's been a bit quieter than it has been in years past. But it's kinda nice haha. 😅

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k-dokja · 2 years

Note

Vasco!!! what will happen when him and reader finally get together?

Y'all... This is the final Lookism request I will take and I feel like this has come full circle since the first ever Lookism piece I've written is Vasco trying to ask the reader out on last year's August.

Anyway, thanks everyone for the support in the past year \o/ It has been fun!

You want to say Vasco looks younger when he's peaceful and relaxed, but that'd be... lying. To everyone. It's a blatant untruth, too. One doesn't even need to look for too long to see that there is no way possible for Vasco to be a high school student. It's even worse when you look at Burn Knuckles as a whole.

Suddenly, you feel the urge to slap someone around for this situation you are in.

"Vasco..." You call for him with your fingers running through the strands of his hair. It's now cut and styled with an uneven bang. Faintly, this reminds you of Zack Lee from the fashion department in a year lower. "Have you shaved recently?"

He hums, relaxed by your touch alone. It's not often that he gets to lie down on your lap between his training and... whatever it is that his crew gets up to. However, when this does happen, you find that he's nowhere near the intimidating man he poses to be for his crew. It's a bit disorienting. Just a bit.

Nobody can blame you for getting a bit nostalgic about the shy and naive Vasco of... a year ago. Seriously, you cannot figure out what in the world turns him into the current him. None of the Burn Knuckles would be this bad of an influence on him. If anything, you don't think they can even influence him badly at all.

"Uh, yeah," he says, "this morning."

You frown at the scuffle of beard on his cheeks. Maybe he didn't shave them all. The shape looks pretty neat and trimmed. Not that you know much about how beard works, of everything.

"I see..." You do not. "I noticed Burn Knuckles have gotten a wardrobe change lately." You glance at Jace with his ear pierced and hair tied up. When he notices your attention, he sends you a friendly smile, one that you mirror even if it is only on reflex.

You have no problem with him, personally. But his new tattoo and attitude have also been a choice. If anything, you have to wonder if he's the originator of this leather wardrobe the entire crew is in.

"Do you disapprove?" Vasco cracks an eye open, a bit apprehensive. However, you redirect your smile from Jace to him. To reassure him, if anything.

"No, it's..." Well, it is not like you oppose the choice. "New, that's all."

Vasco relaxes at that. Even with his eyes fluttering shut once more, he has yet to grow comfortable like before. "A lot happened recently," he explains, "I'm sorry for not keeping you up-to-date."

"It's fine, it's fine," you say empty words, "long as you boys are having fun and staying safe, I don't think there's any problem."

Vasco stays quiet, but you can see the sweat rolling down his forehead.

"...You are staying safe, yes?"

"Well..."

The remainder of his answer is snuffed into a whisper and overwhelmed by the laughter of other Burn Knuckles chatting. You frown, leaning down closer. "What?"

"It is like this..."

He starts again, but once more, his answer grows quieter with every word. Even without interference from other members, his reply fails to transmit to you with that low volume of his. You sigh, a bit annoyed with this antic of his. It is, how should you say this, irritable.

"This brat," you grumble, pinching his arm, "speak louder."

It is a futile action which proves to be nothing but a warning. With his bicep being this rock-hard, you doubt he experiences any pain physically. However, your displeasure always deals out psyche damage to him, and that is enough for you.

"Ah, noona...." He sputters. The sheepish expression on his face might've worked on a face far younger, but it fails miserably on his mature features. "You didn't have to pinch me."

"Speak louder then," you say, "where is your usual might?"

"Ah, well, you know," he tucks at his collar, "I don't like to get you involved with crew business, it's dangerous enough for Burn Knuckles. If others know you're with me, it might be dangerous for you, too."

"And I respect that decision," you cup his face in your hand and squeeze, "that doesn't mean you have to keep everything from me, how will I know what to avoid if I don't even know what's going on?"

"Pluh 'pare me, ma'uhm," he splutters, "Ah didn't mehm to ahpset yew."

You glare down and tighten your grip, "Are you really apologetic or do you think you're such a strong man now that you don't have to listen to your girlfriend anymore?"

"Ah cause not," Vasco endures his punishment valiantly but continues to speak in muffled words, "watevah yew shay, go."

Finally, you release him and Vasco breathes out a sigh of relief. "Besides, you know I can help you if anything arises, right? I don't think Jace alone is enough to make up for your absent brain cells..."

Distracted by rubbing his squeezed cheeks, he asks, "What?"

"Nothing," you say. "Anyway, you guys are big boys, now, I don't care if you get into fights long as you win it. But if you stopped winning, then I'll start having a problem."

"I'll do my best to not cause a problem for you," Vasco says resolutely, then with a sheepier tone, he adds, "can I get a kiss on my boo-boo?"

You sigh, a bit overdramatic. However, before granting him his wish, you pull at his cheek once more. Really... he doesn't have fat there, too. You can scarcely believe he's meant to be younger than you. Maybe it's you who are doing it wrong...

"Seriously," you drop a kiss on his lips, which is decidedly not where he asked, "you're lucky I love you."

"Aw," he grins goofily, not even noticing you didn't grant him his request, "I love you, too."

"Awwwwwwwwww."

Just then, you turn to see the rest of Burn Knuckles watching your little interaction. All of them make various expressions of fondness, but that does nothing for the strangeness of the situation.

"Stop watching, damnit!"

#vasco lee #vasco lee x reader #lookism #lookism x reader #fics

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beanghostprincess · 6 months

Note

Shuggy headcanons as per request Madame: Love me some „Shanks being in love with Buggy’s long hair“, but I raise you „Buggy absolutely adores Shanks hair and can’t keep his hands out of it“. Granted, Shanks doesn’t really take care of his hair. Shanks is a bit of a greaseball at times. Suits Buggy well actually. When they were teens that gave him a perfect reason to just be „Eugh! When was the last time you washed this?“ While grabbing a fist full „OW! My hairs fine! I washed it last week!“ „LAST WEEK? GOD YOURE GROSS!“ and nag him about it till he cleaned up. He could always pretend the detached hands that raked trough Shanks hair after this where just there to make sure his idiot best friend did a good enough job. Actually he needs to check up on this every so often because clearly Shanks can’t be trusted to look after his own head and Buggy would be DAMNED if this ginger brought lice into their bunk HOLD STILL. The rituals…Elaborate but stupid as hell.

Shanks doesn’t mind as much as he pretends, as long as Buggy isn’t pulling his head this way and that by its roots, and enjoys the little bit of extra attention when Buggys fingers scratch over his scalp. On quieter days when they are hanging out together Buggy will actually relax enough to play with his hair without the guise of checking for dandruff for once and just absentmindedly chop a hand of to run his fingers trough while he is reading or even just bitching about something unrelated. Shanks just turns to mush every time this happens. Complete zen mode achieved.

In a world where they get together as adults again those moments become a bit more regular, usually when they are in bed together and they are both still in the process of waking up. „Feels nice…You got a real thing for my hair huh?“ Buggy shoots him an unimpressed look and Shanks can’t help but roll his eyes fondly as he answers: „I’m just checking something. I think it’s thinning out. If you keep going at this rate you’re gonna go bald.“.

As I said, the rituals : intricate but stupid as FUCK

So cute and sweet and also a bit angsty because just add the PINING to it,,, They make me go wild. Like, it's noticeable how I've been talking more about Shuggy lately and things like this make me go fucking insane. They were so in love. Gonna jump off a bridge. Anyway!

This is so real. Because Buggy would always complain about Shanks not washing his hair properly (even if one day he does have an immaculate, perfect hair) only to have the excuse to touch it or just be closer to Shanks without actually looking like a needy, pining idiot (does he even realize he's in love with Shanks? He will never admit it). And, y'know, I think Shanks genuinely ends up trying to take care of his hair (more or less. He just doesn't care much and forgets about doing it. Like yeah! Gonna be clean from now on! And then a week passes and he hasn't showered because he's been too busy with adventure to worry about it, or something) because he kind of likes the praise that comes with it afterward. Buggy saying something nice to him doesn't happen often, and he cherishes it forever. But it doesn't happen a lot bc he always ends up forgetting to wash his hair.

I'm a sucker for Shuggy being each other's first kisses, and if it happens while Buggy is playing with Shanks hair,, I might die. They're just too much.

Also, when they're older Shanks still doesn't take care of his hair and Buggy literally drags him to the shower with him. Shanks won't stop making sexual jokes about showering together and Buggy literally and genuinely just wants to clean Shanks as if he were a damn stray dog he just found (kind of the same thing tbh). Then Buggy makes him go back to bed with him and cuddle because he just needs a moment of romantic bliss before fighting his husband again.

#god they're something else #no other ship makes me feel like this it's so akjsdbajksbda #i'm a child of divorce please #they're in love your honor #one piece #buggy the clown #red haired shanks #shuugy

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quinloki · 1 year

Text

Family Ties

Fem Reader x Donquixote Doflamingo

23 Chapters - 60,812 words

Version with images can be found here.

CW: Language, violence, blood, moral ambiguity, murder, sexual themes and situations 18+ only

Summary: "It is in love, and murder, that we are sincere." He states, breath tickling your lips as he leans closer. "And I adore your sincerity, (Y/N)."

Modern Mafia AU style story - sorry, I don't really know what else to say about it ^^;

Chapter 1: Trouble

Working a lot of odd jobs, meant working a lot of odd hours, and most of the time it didn't bother you, but today was an eighteen-hour day and you put in time in three jobs. It had been long, and both your mind and your body were effectively exhausted. Peeking at your phone as you walked, you realized it was more like a 24-hour day, since it was already past midnight.

Ugh, I've been up since 4am, today was nuts. You grumble internally.

You kept your monologue internal so you could keep your senses external. Walking home this late wasn't super safe, but you're also not exactly easy pickings, so you weren't terribly worried. A dropped guard though, is no guard, so while you might have looked distracted, you weren't.

You hear a low groan from ahead of you, and the shifting of clothes and back-alley trash. It wasn’t loud, but you were on alert and there wasn’t much other noise around here at this time of night. Making yourself quieter than you had been, you crept into the alley and took in the scene.

A man in a nice, if not torn and bloody suit, is propped against the wall of building, breathing ragged puffs into the cooler air. He’s tall with blonde hair, sunglass – at night? What a choice. – and an old flintlock gun in his hand. It’s hard to see in the dark, but from his posture, he looks beat to all hell.

You slip closer, softer than the air, and put a hand over his flintlock and his mouth at the same time, staring into his eyes well as you could against the glasses. He jerks, but he doesn’t make a sound, and you don’t feel him struggle against you. Taking a closer look, you realize he isn’t just beat all to hells, he is hurt enough to be on the edges of death.

Looking around for signs of whoever is on his tail you then lean in close and hiss in a whisper. “Fight me on trying to help you and I leave you to die.” You warn. “If you lean on me, think you can stand?”

You didn’t move your hand from his mouth or his firearm yet, but he nods without any real hesitation. “Your pursuers,” You whisper, releasing your grip and bracing to help him to his feet, pointing with your chin as you spoke. “In the alley or main?”

He points to the alley and lets out a low grunt from behind clenched teeth as you get him on his feet. “Alright. Stuff your questions and your voice, now move.”

He towers over you. You were short by normal standards, and he had to have two feet on you easy. But for all he leaned into you, you pushed back, giving as much support as you could physically muster. You would’ve fireman carried him, but something told you that unless he was completely unconscious there’s no way he was going to suffer being hauled around like that.

You stop from time to time to listen, and then adjust your course or get off the main street entirely. You were making your way to your friend’s clinic, it was closed but locks were just a suggestion, and the doc wouldn’t press charges against you anyway.

"Where?" His voice was deep, but as soft and quiet as you imagined it could hope to be.

“Somewhere safe and discreet to stop the bleeding.” You pause, listen, and catch the first real sounds of actual pursuit so you push him a little faster. “After that depends.”

He seemed content with that answer, and you could feel him trying to push him body to move faster.

It only took a couple of minutes to reach the clinic. You prop him against the wall. “Don’t fall down big guy,” You whisper, pulling out your lockpicks and opening the door almost as fast as if you’d had a key. It was no surprise, you practiced on this door for years with Law’s permission. He’d meant for you to be able to come in if you had an emergency for yourself, but that wasn’t your problem right now.

You get the big guy in, and the door shuts quietly behind you both. Setting him on the exam table, closing interior doors and making sure there was no way for light to spill into the front of the clinic before turning on the room’s light you go about gathering supplies.

"Why?" That rumble of a voice was nice. You appreciate him keeping his noise making minimal as well.

"Bored." You snort derisively. You speak quietly, barely above a whisper, the room wasn't soundproof, but it was brick with a heavy door. You don't look at him as you move around the room. With the supplies gathered, it was time to prep the station and then clean everything. "You like that suit?"

"Not sentimentally." He states flatly. His tone suggests he does like it for more practical reasons.

You bite back a laugh. "Strip what you can and lay down."

"You're a doctor?" His voice was like thunder and velvet, you would almost hate to hear it when he's at full health, you imagine it'd be easy to get swept away by that voice.

"Field medic if anything." You answer. "You're in the loving hands of someone with practical experience but no degree." You finish prepping as he lays down with a restrained groan, his suit jacket, tie, and undershirt on the floor. "We can compare scars la... ter." You turn toward him after scrubbing your hands and see the extent of the wounds.

At least three bullet holes and two gashes. Bruises and scrapes too, but those weren't your problem. With this level of hurt he's probably got a fracture or two at the minimum.

"Anything I can't see?" You ask, cleaning up the absolute mess his torso had become. "Stabbed in the back? Shot in the leg? Those pants are kind of blood-colored, I don't want to waste time hunting for holes."

"One back wound." He replies. "Left leg outer thigh."

Concise, you appreciate concise. You glance down and see the tear and the blood, pulling the tear you rip the pants a bit and clean the area up with the towel. "Lucky bastard, the shot's shallow, it'll be easy to fix. I'll get your front patched up and we'll look at that back wound. I don't wanna go flipping you over and over."

You hand him a clean towel. "You look like a tough bastard, but I don't thief the doc's meds, so if you have to, bite this and keep as quiet as fucking possible if you don't want your friends to come in uninvited."

You go to work. You'd assisted the doc before, and you'd actually patched yourself up a few times too. Not because you were full of bullets and had pissed people off, but you got into fights and accidents and hospitals weren't cheap. Plus, time around the boys meant patching Pops' crew often enough, and those cheeky bastards never wanted to admit that anything hurt.

This guy could've won their fights though, he was using the towel as a pillow, and the harsh light of the room was enough for you to see the outline of his eyes through his glasses while you work. He does grunt and twitch a time or two, but he is impressively stoic.

"You lost a lot of blood, mister." You remark. Rambling while you worked helped you keep focus. "I can't fix that either, but at least we're plugging the leaks. I bet with that suit you're wearing you can get proper care later, but I feel like your friends out there are the clingy types. And pretty well-prepared too, to do all this, you don't strike me as a guy caught off guard much."

There was a silence at first, and when you were between wounds a single word. "Traitor." There's a weight to that word that almost sinks your soul down to your feet. If that traitor survived tonight, you had a feeling he wouldn't survive many more if this man had his way.

"Explains the wound in the back then. Tough luck." You pat his chest as you finish up the last wound and raise an eyebrow. This guy is solid. Handsome bastard too, especially if he can look this good while being in this bad of shape. You swallow and refocus. "Let me deal with your leg, then you can turn over."

Moving closer to it you pull the fabric a little more to make more room. "At least I hope we can turn you over after this. I'm not exactly a power lifter, and you're a touch bigger than me."

A bemused chuckle fills the air and you smile. A sense of humor, and being able to appreciate that humor, are good signs in situations like this.

His muscles ripple as he turns over and crosses his arms in front of himself, resting his chin on them. You took a moment to appreciate what this man did to maintain his body and felt a swift pang of guilt that your stitches weren't better.

"Do you know who I am?"

"Trouble." You answer and earn another smooth rumbly chuckle. You clean the wound on his back, just barely to the side of his spine, and are getting ready to stitch it. "And Trouble, I don't want to know any other name you have, and there's no reason to give you mine."

"I'd like to properly thank you for all this."

You grunt. "This ain't over yet, and if it goes bad then you'll just have to appreciate our time in my friend's clinic."

You resist the urge to slap his ass when you finish. He's not one of the boys, and you're not looking to make friends with Trouble - so there's no need to be cheeky.

"Get dressed, I'm going to go out the front and at least pretend to be locking up so I can see if your friends are around." You pull the gloves off and toss 'em in the wrong bin specifically so Law'll know it was you. "After that we can make our way to Q's, since the cabbies hang out there, and get you a lift to wherever you want.

"Then you'll be someone else's problem, Trouble."

#Family Ties #donquixote doflamingo #doffy x reader #doffy one piece #one piece smut #one piece fanfiction #modern mafia au #reader insert #doflamingo x reader

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imagine--if · 2 years

Note

Soft yandere Eddie with a reader who sees him as a total stranger but has seen the Riddler on the news so she comes home to see the Riddler in her apartment and a romantic dinner set up. He casually asks about how her day was, and cuddles her before pulling her chair out for her at the table. She's extremely confused and has no clue how he knows she exists but his earnest adoration and chivalry helps her calm down about the fact that the Riddler broke into her apartment.

A/N: It's terrifying to anyone who isn't a simp for Eddie Nashton like us 😌😂 I'll be answering a few matchups tomorrow so keep an eye out if you've sent one in!! (Also, cat mum and dad with Edward?? Parenting with Edward?! Honestly I've gotten so many requests for this and my brains exploding with ideas hehehe 😁 THANKS FOR 1000+ FOLLOWERS AGHSKFGK-)

Pairing: Dano!Riddler x reader (The Batman 2022)

Warnings: Obsessive loving behaviour, stalking, breaking and entering 😵💚

Words: 1143

You know something was wrong right when you get to the front door, your key hovering against the hole of the lock. The gap between your door and the frame is a slit wider than usual, almost as if it's...

Yep. It's open. Crap.

Do you call the police? You never forget to lock up before you leave for work; you can't, not in a city like Gotham. Who the hell would want to break into your apartment anyway? It's not like you've got any proper stock of valuables in there, because if you did, you wouldn't be living here in the first place. But there are definitely faint noises coming from inside your apartment, and if you act now, maybe sneak in, you can deal with this before it escalates.

But as the door swings open inwardly in a flourish, you know it's too late, and your thought of something being wrong seems pretty much laughable now. Because here, standing in front of you, is a man masked in deep, grungy greens, clear framed glasses over the mask drawing your attention to the stranger's forest green eyes, lit up with apparent happiness as they meet your own.

That's... he's The Riddler.

You've seen him on the news, obviously, heard of his little live streams to show off his 'trials' against the corrupt of Gotham and the unique, gruesome methods he uses to earn him that title. Even so, why is he here? It's not like you're corrupt - unless he thinks you are? But, then again, he can't be thinking that, not by the way he's looking at you, a smile half-hidden underneath the mask.

"Honey, you're home!" he coos at you with crazed giggles, and instantly sweeps you up in his arms as if it's the most normal thing to do, while you're rocked in his embrace with wide eyes and your mouth agape in pure shock and bewilderment.

"Wh- what-"

"Oh, I'm sorry, I haven't even given you a chance to get in yet," The Riddler scolds himself knowingly, finally letting go and ushering you inside, a hand on your back guiding you in. "How was work? Quieter now that one of the pigs who used to get on your nerves has... well, disappeared?"

"Wait- what?" you breathe shakily, and he shakes his head dismissively, helping you slide out of your jacket.

"Never mind, angel, never mind... how was your day? Are you tired?"

"I..." you desperately try to find the right words, dazed by the madness of the entire situation. The only two options you can think of are straight-up calling this Riddler out and getting someone, anyone, out for help, or simply letting it happen. Completely ignore the fact that this man is a stranger, a serial killer, and has broken into your apartment to treat you like you've been together for ages.

"I guess I'm a little tired...?" is what you find yourself saying instead, which is in no way a lie. The Riddler's smile fades to one of sympathy behind the material covering it as he goes to hug you again, and you take in the warmth from his body enveloping yours snugly, the thick green hoodie soft against your skin.

"Of course you are, poor darling. But that's what I'm here for!" he exclaims excitedly, letting go to take you hand-in-hand to the dining area of your small kitchen.

What sounds like Ave Maria is playing quietly on one of your speakers, the round table set neatly with a candle in the centre and dotted around the sideboards, your favourite food prepared precisely in front of you. It's actually sweet, you can't help thinking to yourself, that he's actually come here to make you food, treat you with respect and warmth it's practically impossible to find in Gotham City. It's only what he's expecting in return that worries you.

"Why... why'd you make this?" you ask him hesitantly, before adding, "I mean, it's really lovely, um, thank you, by the way."

"Because you work hard, sweet girl," The Riddler responds as if it's obvious, his proper smile back now, "too hard, for scum like that, and you deserve a treat for it. I've not seen anyone else do something like this for you, not since we met. So you're more than welcome!"

"Since we met?" you repeat incredulously, and the masked man nods.

"Well, since I met you," he clarifies, "only a few weeks ago. Oh, but it feels like only yesterday, doesn't it? I just couldn't help falling in love with every little thing about you..."

You blink at his adoring, lovestruck trance, then look back to the table.

"You've been following me?"

"I've been protecting you, angel," he rephrases with another giggle. "I'd never hurt you, see? The thought of that- god, it makes me feel sick to my stomach. And we can't have that, now can we? Not before we've started eating."

The Riddler quickly goes to pull out a chair, and you steadily follow and sit down with a mumbled thanks. He sits opposite, and you eye his mask wearily.

"You might need to take that off if you're gonna eat too," you remind him, and he nods and sighs.

"I know, sweetheart, but I've done such a good job of keeping myself hidden for now. I'm sure you wouldn't tell, though, I hope you wouldn't..."

"I don't really know who you are anyway," you tell him gently, a small smile tugging at your lips. "But I'm not... I'm not scared, or anything. It's been a while, really, since anyone's done this for me."

"Well, I'm glad it's made you feel better," The Riddler responds contentedly. "I did think about going slow, like any normal person would, but I don't think I'd be able to cope with the hassle of that. Better to just come straight out and treat you like the pure princess you are, hmm?"

You nod slowly, not entirely convinced, but it'll do for now. "Okay then. Thanks. I've, uh, I've seen you on TV before."

"You have? Did you like it?" he questions you eagerly, and you shrug and shake your head with an amused smile.

"I suppose. I mean, I kind of get it?"

"There'll be more time for you to truly understand, so don't worry, my love," The Riddler assures you with a wide smile. "We have all the time in the world, you and I... and I'm going to savour each and every second."

His eyes tell you he means every word he says, and you can't help but smile at him lightly, the shock of the situation wearing off into the strangest acceptance in curiosity you've ever had.

I mean, if The Riddler's going to savour every second of being able to love you, there's no reason why you can't savour it too, right?

Taglist:

@bimboanime @katjourno @yoyoanaria @yaeyuuki @vinxlsketches @beenz-beenz @ghoulsgraveyard @birds-have-teeth @repostingmyfavs @r3ptiliaaa @for3v3rda1sy @glitterycheesecakegladiator @moonwritesblog @lilyevans1 @httpsunflowers @hxney-lemcn @confusedchildsstuff @phantomofthecathedral @sugahbabieexo @bokksieu @skateb0red @wilburrrsworld @philiasoul @darthcringe @felicityofbakerstreet @bloodypantomime @deadlights-darling @tianotfound @mortem-muse @ireadandream @tinyryder @kpopgirlbtssvt @truecobblepot @jessicainhell

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little-cereal-draws · 2 years

Text

"Laters Gators" (MKtober day two)

Voicemail 1 out of 42, May 2nd, 2024, 11:49 AM

Beep

"Hiya, Mum! It's me! I just got to the flat you're renting me and let me just say it's gorgeous! Super spacious and has a wonderful view of the street! Yeah, I'm looking at it now. All the people look so small."

Laugh, traffic noises in the background. The sound of a window closing, the traffic is quieter now.

"Anyway, Mum, I was just calling to say thank you so much again for letting me live here a while until I can get on my feet. As soon as I finish unpacking these boxes, I'm going to start job hunting. Yeah, might take a day or two for me to get through them all though, there's a lot."

Uncertainty, lying.

"Um, yeah. But anyway, hopefully I can find a job soon enough. I mean it's a big city, someone has to be hiring."

Laugh.

"Call me back when you can, I know the time difference makes it wonky. Love you. Laters gators."

Voicemail 2 of 42, May 10th, 2024, 3:44 PM

Beep

"Hi, Mum! Good news!"

Traffic, wind, definitely walking outside.

"I just got out of an interview with a school, and I think it went pretty well. I'm applying for a librarian position. Work with kids and teach them, y'know? I really think they liked me! They certainly seemed more interested in me than that bookstore. Hopefully they call me back soon! Anyway, I would love to hear how you've been, call me back when you can. And I'll let you know if I get the job. Love you. Laters gators."

Voicemail 5 of 42, May 24th, 2024, 6:37 PM

Beep

"Hiya, Mum. I've been doing well."

Sad, tired, light sounds of clanking metal in the background.

"I'm cooking dinner right now. I'm still job hunting. It's been a bit tougher than I thought. I mean, I don't have any credentials or schooling for one. Also, I don't have any proof of my identity. It's a bit silly but since I don't have a driver's license or a passport or a social security card, I've started carrying around that postcard you sent me as proof. It's like 'Look, mate. I'm sitting right in front of you, that's my name and address on the card, and I exist, don't I? You can hire me!' but I understand why they can't do that. Criminals and all that. Stealing people's identities or whatever."

Slight laugh that ends in a long sigh.

"So, I'm working on getting an ID first and then I'll get back to job hunting. That postcard looks fun though, I've always wanted to go to Rome. Roma. Well, call me back and tell me how it went. Love you. Laters gators."

Voicemail 15 of 42, July 1st, 2024, 6:18 PM

"Hi, Mum. I was just calling to let you know how the first day of my new job went! The one at the museum. I'm, um, a tour guide like I was telling you, yeah."

Uncertainty, lying.

"It went really, really well. I met so many new people and I think I really inspired them, y'know? My boss Donna is just a peach. She calls me Stevie. It's like an inside joke we have."

Tense, gritted teeth.

"We just get a long like peas in a pod. No problems there! Everyone is just so nice!"

Nervous laugh.

"Everything's going just great. I loved your postcard from Bejing. All the signs and lights. Looked really cool. I know you've always got loads of work and you're always traveling but call me back, please. I miss you."

A long pause. A throat being cleared.

"Um, right, yeah, ok. Anyway, I'm home now so I gotta go. Love you. Laters gators."

Voicemail 24 of 42, August 24th, 2024, 8:11 PM

Beep

"Hi, Mum. Sorry for calling so late, though I suppose it's not late there, I don't know. I had to stay late to do inventory. Again. Not as punishment, I just enjoy endless counting and scanning. It really gets me going."

Tired, so tired. The sound of a bag being dropped on the floor. A long pause.

"Ok, Mum, just tell me when you're free and I'll call you then. It doesn't matter if I'm at work, I'll just step into the toilet and call you there. You haven't returned a single one of my calls. You send postcards all the time, and I love those, but the messages -if there is one! - are always very short and terse."

Footsteps followed by the sound of papers rustling.

"'Hello from Caracas!' 'Sending love from Karachi!' This one says, 'Hello from Casablanca. Love Mom.' That's the longest message you ever wrote me! Please, Mum, I want to know how you're doing! I want to hear about your day! I want to hear your voice-"

Voice breaking, long pause, slight sniffling.

"Please, Mum. I- I miss you. I've- um, I've been having a really tough time actually. London's been hell. I don't have any money or friends and I hate my job; everyone bullies me there. I'm actually a stupid cashier in the gift shop not a tour guide like I told you."

Getting more choked up.

"I can't even have a peaceful homelife! I've got some sort of sleeping disorder and I keep waking up in weird places with horrible injuries. It's only a matter of time before I get arrested for trespassing or some other crime! I can't rest in the day, and I can't rest at night! I hate my life; I hate it so much!"

Sobbing.

"I am so lonely!! I don't- I don't-"

More sniffing and sobbing.

"Mummy, please... call me back... I need you..."

Sobbing.

Voicemail 25 of 42, August 24th, 2024, 8:47 PM

Beep

"Hiya, Mum."

Voice hoarse, uncertain, tired.

"So, um, about the message I just sent you. I was um, just... drunk. Yeah, that's it."

Uncertainty, lying.

"But I'm better now. I threw up and had some tea and potatoes. I, um, did that all really fast. So, um, sorry about that. Please disregard that last message, I don't know what I was going on about, I'm actually doing quite well."

Forced laugh.

"Anyway... I'll stop bothering you now. Let you get back to whatever you're doing. Love you. Laters gators."

#I swear I'll draw some of the prompts but i really wanted to write this one #it got so angsty lol #marvel #mcu #moon knight #moon knight 2022 #moon knight fic #steven grant #wendy spector #mktober2022 #moon knightober 2022 #my fics

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omarandjohnny · 1 month

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GETTING TO KNOW MEME!

Tagged this time by @callipigio <333333333333333333333333333

do you make your bed?

My bed doubles as my couch, so no. Most that happens is the blanket becomes a prop for my pillows during the daytime.

what's your favourite number?

"69, DUDES!" (had to)

what is your job?

caregiver

if you could go back to school, would you?

Absolutely not. Loathed every aspect of school, even more so because I had 'behind the curtain' access to everything (mom was a teacher, and I ended up being her PA towards the end of her career)

can you parallel park?

I cannot drive so nope! (same)

a job you had that would surprise people?

I was a part-time nanny through highschool, then a data collector for a day trader, and then a licensed insurance rep, then a PA for mom, which transformed into caregiver as she got older. Out of all of those, I'm not sure which would surprise people more. I was at least a corporate goth during my insurance years, let that mental image sit with ya for a minute. (I wasn't as cool as Richmond, unfortunately)

do you think aliens are real?

Somewhere there's probably something <-

can you drive a manual car?

Can't drive, full stop.

what's your guilty pleasure?

Can't say I've ever felt guilty about anything that's given me pleasure, never understood that concept.

tattoos?

Filthy with 'em! From the tummy up anyway- haven't started on my legs yet, unless you count my very first tattoo (a stick and poke inverted triangle I gave myself freshman year of hs)

favorite color?

Suspiria red and slime green! Tho, I have been favoring purple quite a bit these days.

favorite type of music?

I grew up in a house that was constantly filled with music, 50-60s pop, to 60s-70s motown, to 70s glam, to anything 80s that was currently on the radio. I jump all over the place, but my constants usually drift towards that stuff, as well as all the goth and numetal I picked up as a baby bat.

do you like puzzles?

I get frustrated too quickly, hence why I never got into gaming of any sort.

any phobias?

Not a phobia per se, but I still have some issues with boiling liquids (old burn trauma). I do all the cooking so I kinda have to push that stuff to the back of my mind, but yeah.

favorite childhood sport?

I loved basketball the most (tallest kid in class, heh) I liked volleyball as well, and was on a soccer team for a bit, but basketball came naturally to me.

do you talk to yourself?

Not much anymore. Long Covid brain fog has made a lot of things much quieter in my mind, a weird and rare upside XD

what movies do you adore?

Derek Jarman, Gregg Araki and John Waters were my honorary film uncles in late teens-early twenties. My life revolved around Wolfe Video and TLA Video back during the catalog ordering days, so I have MANY favorites there. Stephen King and Clive Barker were my horror uncles, and then you've got my childhood faves- Lost Boys, Monster Squad, Beetlejuice, etc. There's also this film called My Beautiful Laundrette that I mildly enjoy as well ;)

coffee or tea?

I do enjoy just regular ol' black coffee when the mood strikes (or my asthma's kicking up)

first thing you wanted to be growing up?

Wanted to work in the funeral arts, quelle surprise. Would've done it too, had I the patience for maths and sciences (I very much do not)

#memetiemz

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masterqwertster · 11 months

Note

18. "I need to change that bandage" and 8. "Can you sing for me" for Opal and Dorian if you can please?

Oh, all Crown Keepers. Let's go! Also, I'm tapped out on this prompt list. I'll finish what I've already received, but that'll be it for now. I mean, I'll have done nearly 20 of these little monsters when I finish those.

"Come on, Opal. I need to change your bandages," Dorian coaxes.

Or you could let him or Dariax heal you. Like a reasonable person, Ted chimes in, heard only by Opal.

"Shut up, Ted," Opal snaps back. Then, quieter, "I hurt my friends. You can't just magic that away."

"Well, no. But that doesn't mean you need to be hurting too," Dorian reasons, sitting down beside her with the healer's kit. "And it really would be easier if you'd just let me heal it with magic instead of this whole rigmarole with changing the bandages."

See? You're making him feel bad when he already feels bad, Ted points out.

What do you mean? Opal asks back, mentally, for once.

Oh my gods. He's a fucking bard and he hasn't sung or played anything in days. Doesn't that tell you that something is wrong?

And Opal takes a moment to think back on it. Ted is right. Dorian hasn't done any music since he hustled them all into this hidden space.

On orders from Orym.

Oh fuck. Dorian's got the magic talking stone to Orym, but Opal doesn't think he's heard back from the brave little halfling since he got the order. And Dorian is such a worrywart anyways, especially when it comes to how Orym (and Fearne and the other friends they'd made) was doing.

And that isn't even getting into the mess she'd made of things recently.

Opal bites her lip, considering what would actually make their current situation better.

"Um. You can... y'know, heal my arm? If you want to. But, you've got to sing too, okay? You haven't lately, and you're a bard. Aren't bards supposed to sing magic anyways?" Opal ends up rambling.

"Oh," Dorian softly says, something... sad, Opal thinks, flitting across his face. "Okay. It's, uh, nice that you're finally willing to be properly healed. And I can sing a song. ...Just, uh, give me moment to pick one?"

"Of course," Opal agrees.

Dorian retrieves the mandolin he got from Dariax when he came back from Marquet and starts tuning it.

Opal notices that the others are stilling as they notice Dorian is preparing to perform. She guesses Ted wasn't the only one to pick up on Dorian's recent silence.

A breath taken in the anticipatory silence, and Dorian begins.

The song is beautiful. And lonesome. Pining, not-yet-mourning. When he sings, it's with the voice of a wind on an empty plain with nothing to catch on save the waving stalks of grass. Yet there should be someone there. Someone whose hair can be tousled by the wind, whose clothes can flutter in the breeze. But they're not there. Not anymore. Or is it not yet?

Opal can't understand a word Dorian sings, but she gathers it must be a genasi language, because Cyrus and Fy'ra Rai are paying close attention. Cyrus even mouths along to some of the lyrics.

Eventually, the song comes to an end. They always do.

And Opal is almost startled to realize her arm is fully healed with the song's conclusion. Sure, it's what she'd asked for, but she had been so caught up in the music...

"Thanks, Dorian."

"You're welcome."

#MQ&A #critical role #cr opal #dorian storm #MQfic #hurt comfort dialogue prompt

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rimouskis · 8 months

Note

Really empathizing with your recent life updates and hoping everything works out for you. I've also been experiencing some Life Events (not very fun lol) and i now have a very large urge to move to canada. Idk about you but im at that weird 20s stage of my life where everything seems so permanent and lifechanging but also not? So full support in your cross-country moving dreams!!

that's literally it sigh. I've recently had a lot of upheaval in my life that was out of my control and I think my instinctive reaction is grabbing everything I do have control over (like, to some degree, where I live) and also throwing that to the wind because I feel like my self-image is being radically reordered by forces outside of me, so I'm trying to gain control of everything by changing what I can change.

as I inch closer to my late 20s (maybe I'm there already, idk, pacing by age is stupid for a gazillion reasons yet we do it anyway) I also have that feeling where it's like: clearly nothing I do matters! and yet, for some reason, apparently every decision I make is life-defining! what the fuck! I have no power and all the power at the same time!

it's just tough. I've had a lot of friends go through pretty big changes lately; changes that to me, speak to an adulthood I don't have access to yet. some are getting married, others divorced, some are on their journeys to parenthood, or preparing for those journeys. and it's like... I feel like I'm frozen in time, untouched by the life markers of my age and peer group. hell, I'm barely coping with both of my younger siblings now having boyfriends they're comfortable telling me about/introducing to the family, but meanwhile I just experienced the first real crush of my life this year. I know "queer time" has been discussed more recently as a phenomenon but I was unprepared for experiencing it. I'm a million miles "behind" everyone in my life. and yet, I'm not even actually ready to be where they are. I want it and I don't. I want to reinvent myself so badly and yet I form attachments to where I am and who I am. I'm wishy washy because my decisions don't matter but they also do. it's just insane.

I'm really comfortable here, and I'm not ready to move yet, but I also refuse to make plans for my future concretely. I've never been the type to have a life plan, for better or worse. I just.... live, and I take life as it comes. but as I get older, I feel like ~I'm okay~ if I keep horse blinders on and only focus on myself and how I feel, but when I take the blinders off and look at the world around me, and the people I hold near and dear, suddenly I feel like I've been dumped into an olympic swimming pool and want to keep up with people who've been training their whole lives to swim.

by a lot of metrics I'm doing okay. I keep my wits about me when it comes to money. I've been very fortunate to travel a lot and to experience some of the world. I maintain good relationships with the people I've worked with. I have friends. I get by and live decently. and that should be enough, right? if I live well enough and enjoy my life day by day, that's what matters...?

but like you said, it's those sudden urges. that feeling of wanting to run away to something. I think it's being spoiled for choice. I don't really have ties to anyplace. I could go anywhere. I could do anything, in actuality. no one is reliant upon me. no one NEEDS me in any one place. I could move to freaking London if I wanted to. the world is my oyster, and I'm a little paralyzed by the true freedom of it. you can do anything. so what do you do?

the sensation isn't new to me, but it's been a while since I felt it. I've done too much crazy life development this last year, lol, I'm ready for a quieter season of life where I can sink into routine and make connections with interesting, kind people and reconnect with my passions (running, writing ... both of which I've been working on lately), but I feel so untethered and I think I'm chasing fantasy dreams (running away to the PNW) because I'm definitely the kind of person who, when plans go awry, sometimes feels the impulse to blow them up even further to pretend I'm in control of any part of the process.

which is to say: I feel you, good luck, and my DMs are always open if you wish to commiserate, haha.

#phew sorry for the diatribe

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recurring-polynya · 9 months

Text

Writing/Art Update 8.29.23

I did more than nothing this week, which was something. I guess.

I really do want to get back to work on Ductwork, but it's Renji's birthday this week and I wanted to have something postable. Obviously, it would be fun and cool if I could finish that porno I started, but I was struggling with that, and I wanted to divert my brain a little. I do not remember exactly why or how, but I got it in my head that I wanted to write some Renji & Momo Academy horsing around and I came up with something good for that, and I started it. Sounds great, right? It grew in my head a little, but it still seemed pretty do-able, and in a wild thing that never happens, I had both a good ending in mind and a title, and I was feeling good. I even got a whopping 700 words of it written.

Then I got hit with an incredibly stupid and possibly unpublishable, like, future chapter of this thing, on the presumption that it turned into some sort of long anthology of Renji-Momo-Kira-and-sometimes-Rukia stories, who does want that? Everyone wants that. Everyone except me who has to write it. Well, I do want to write it, but I also want to write the story that I am way way super behind on and planned to spend my fall on. Anyway, having no willpower whatsoever (my general writing rule is that when I want to write something, I let myself write it, because the feeling is fleeting and unobtainable under artificial conditions) and write 2100 words that I honestly do not know what I am supposed to do with, aside from let them sit in my drafts for four years until I dredge them out again. o____o

Also, the porno is up to 2871, an increase of 458 words, wrung out of me one by painful one.

Also, I re-read the one Big Scene I really like in Ductwork and it's so irritating to having something this good and to still need, like 50,000 words to go around it.

In other news, I drew a thing. It's...Renji adjacent, so I'm gonna post it on the 31st, since I probably won't have anything else. It's fine, it can be Renji's birthday until I say it's not. (Oh shit I just remembered I have 80% of a Renji - Orihime fic that I found in my drafts that I was hoping to dust off and finish for the Renji - Orihime Birthday Interregnum. Maybe that's still do-able)

I have definitely gotten into a place with my drawing (and my writing is started to go there too, I am afraid) where trying to do anything seems too big and too hard and not worth starting, but I'm really trying hard to fight back against that. I want to figure out something to do, like redrawing screenshots or something, which will take a lot of the hard "picking a pose" up-front friction out of the activity, because I was really close to not-sucking for a while there, and then I lost all my enthusiasm for it. :(

Anyway, the kids went back to school, so the house is a lot quieter this week. They're really good kids, I don't want anyone to ever think I don't like my kids or something, but I get really exhausted being around other people, and it's like every muscle in my body relaxes if I get the house to myself even for a bit. (Mr. P is still here, but it's better than everyone). It also helps my motivation, because I say to myself, "I've got until 3 to get my own stuff done" and then it's Mom-on-call time again and that's honestly really helpful to my executive function.

Grand total: 3319 words and one drawing, distinctly not bad

PS: Despite it resulting in some productivity, I do not at all like the feeling of being scatterbrained like this, it makes me very overwhelmed and short-tempered. I've also been getting a lot of asks lately and it was making those feelings even worse, so I've closed my ask box until I feel like I've got my brain under control again.

#writing update #art update

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