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strangersteddierthings · 10 months

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The Interview

Inspired by this post by @xoxoladyaz. Read on Ao3.

Eddie wakes up to one single missed call from Gareth on his private phone.

No one calls his private phone.

He dials back instantly.

"Hey Eddie," Gareth greets. He sounds tired.

"What's up? What's happened?" Eddie asks, a thousand and one scenarios running through his mind. Gareth is in Indianapolis, and Eddie's thoughts are filled with only his uncle back in Hawkins.

"Nothing's happened that we can't deal with, or rather, that I've already been dealing with. But, uhh, there's an interview you should watch. Let me send you a link-" there's a pause as Gareth does just that "-and just call me back after you've watched it. I know we usually ignore the shit people say about us but this- it's different."

"Okayyyy," Eddie says slowly. "I'll watch it."

They hang up without goodbye because Eddie's just going to call him back after the video. Opening his messages he sees the link, and then Gareth sent a follow up text you need to watch from 12:32 onward.

The video is nearly two weeks old already, and YouTube shows him a face he knows. Robin Buckley looks older but it's definitely her. Her hair isn't styled much differently than she had it in high school, just above her shoulders and a little wild. She's wearing a three piece suit in emerald green, slightly oversized on purpose by the look of it. She's sitting in a chair, cradling a grammy with one arm, as the interviewer sits across from her.

Eddie taps the screen and drags the progress bar closer to the 12-minute mark and listens. He hears the tail end of Robin's response to some question about her album before the interviewer asks what must be the question Gareth wants him to listen to.

'So, I think everyone is dying to know if you and Eddie Munson are friends. You're both from Hawkins, Indiana. Isn't that correct?' the interviewer asks.

Robin's smile slips a bit, 'I- uhh, this is going to be unprofessional of me but I made a promise to someone regarding if I was ever asked about Eddie Munson. So, can I have one minute to make a phone call before I answer your question?'

'Oh. By all means, make your call.'

Eddie watches as Robin is brought her phone by someone who is probably her personal assistant. She wastes no time in unlocking it and finding whoever in her contacts list.

'No time for formalities. I've been asked about Munson. Can I tell the truth?' Robin's mic isn't strong enough to pick up whatever answer she gets on the phone but she shakes her head to whatever answer she's been given. 'I told you, I love you more than this career and I've already got the grammy. I'll handle the fallout. It's not about me. It's about you.' What follows is a few seconds of silence before Robin nods and says goodbye, ending the call and passing the phone back to the PA.

The interviewer's eyebrows are up to her hairline in shock. 'That sounds ominous. You think it's career ending?'

Robin grins and it's almost feral. 'Corroded Coffin's fans have always been ruthless, and perhaps a bit heartless, so what I have to say will certainly set them on the attack. To answer your original question, yes, Eddie Munson and I are from Hawkins. We even shared band class in high school, but that's the end of what connects us. We are not friends, but we once were.'

'Can you elaborate on that?'

'Our friendship ended ten years ago when he ruined my best friend's life for fame and fortune, and Steve's never really known a day of peace since.'

Eyes wide, the interviewer leans closer, 'Steve? As in, Hey Steve, Steve?'

Robin nods, 'Just the one.'

'Are you prepared to talk about how one song ruined your friend's life?'

'That was the purpose of the phone call. Yes, I think people should know the truth. Munson vented his bullshit breakup rage into a song and fucked off out of town. A week after its release, his fans doxxed Steve. He wasn't out to his parents, you see, and Corroded Coffin's fans, Eddie Munson's fans, outed him. They sent hate mail to his house by the ton, it seemed. The fallout from that- the aftermath-' Robin cuts off as her eyes water and she swipes at them, smearing some mascara across her cheek. 'I'm sorry. I almost lost my best friend, the platonic love of my life, that day.

'It's public knowledge, what happened, you can look it up online if you know what to look for. But it is also so incredibly personal. I want to be the one to say this because it's important. What you do in life, it has consequences, and sometimes those consequences are for other people. Whether you think it will, or not. I'd rather people hear it from a human voice, from someone who loves Steve, and not the journalist view. No offense,' Robin shoots the interviewer a sweet smile.

'None taken, please continue.'

'Steve was hospitalized, I won't give the details,' Robin says, in a watery voice as she's clearly trying to not cry at the memory. 'When Steve was finally released from the hospital, there was no one but me to pick him up. And he's going through this while nursing a broken heart. He and Munson had only been broken up for maybe a month before Hey Steve came out.

'In less than two months, Steve had lost his parents, his home, all his belongings, and the man he thought he'd marry one day. And to top it off, that man gets to become rich and famous off a venomous, hate-filled song about their breakup. It talks about Steve like he's coward for not willing to be out, yet, and how... what's the line, about conformity?'

'Conformity holds your leash, baby, so run to the end of your chain and bark,' someone off camera shouts.

'Yes, that, thanks. Accusing Steve of picking 'conformity' over his love. Steve wasn't picking conformity, he was picking safety! And the worst part? The hate mail has never stopped. Steve lived with me and my family for a few months after getting out of the hospital before the hate mail got too much, and someone showed up at my childhood home, looking for him, threatening him. They had a gun. It was traumatic. I was still in my senior year of high school-' Robin cuts off, taking deep breaths.

The interviewer reaches across to place a comforting hand on Robin's, 'I can't even imagine what that must have been like.'

Once Robin has composed herself, she says, 'sorry, this is a lot. I've had ten years to come to terms with it, and I've waited seven for someone to ask me about Munson. I didn't think it would be this hard.

'And it's not- I can't blame Munson, or Corroded Coffin, for everything that happened. He doesn't control his fans. But he's never said anything about the treatment his fans give Steve. And if they're like this towards Steve, are they like this towards all his other ex's? Does Munson not care, or, almost worse, does he not even know?' she stops again, getting a faraway look for a moment before looking at the interviewer again. 'I had to help Steve move again. Just last month. They're still finding him. Sending him hate. Doxxing him.' Now she looks at the camera directly, "Eddie Munson. Call off your fans. Stop playing Hey Steve at concerts. Isn't a decade of hurt enough?'

There isn't a lot that makes Eddie feel anything these days, he'll admit. A decade of fame has made him a bit cynical and callus. However, Robin had said something that made his insides squirm. He swipes across the screen, rewinding the video to hear Robin say Steve had lost his parents, his home, all his belongings, and the man he thought he'd marry one day. Swipe. -ents, his home, all his belongings, and the man he thought he'd marry one day. Swipe. The man he thought he'd marry one day. Swipe. Marry one day.

He pauses the video. That can't be right. That has to be a lie Robin is adding. To garner more sympathy or make Eddie, and therefore Corroded Coffin, look worse. Steve and he had been young and naive when they'd dated. There was no way they'd have ended up married, even if Eddie had stuck around Hawkins longer. Gay marriage wasn't even legal when they broke up in 2013.

Eddie unpauses, skips forward to the end and listens to Robin speak directly to him. Stop playing Hey Steve? The song that rocketed Corroded Coffin into the limelight? No way. And call off his fans? Like they're dogs he's supposed to control or something. The video ends and the YouTube algorithm shows him a number of react videos. Eddie clicks on one and falls down the rabbit hole.

At first the algorithm shows him responses in his favor. Videos made by his fans defending him, or strategically picking apart what Robin had said. Eddie wants to agree with them, he doesn't think he's done anything wrong other than live his life, but then.

Then a video of a guy wearing merch sold during their tour last year plays. He's on the right side of the video while a screen recording is on the left. It takes him less than five minutes to get Steve's past addresses found. And Eddie is... well, he's a little horrified at how long the list is. At the short amount of time Steve's spent in any one place is.

The guy in the video reads out the state, city, and how long Steve lived at each address. The longest one is when Steve made the jump from Florida to Maine, where he lived for 19 months according to the video, and that was years ago.

And then the guy, he fucking starts to speculate about where Steve might have moved to next.

"We can't know for sure, but it looks like he headed back west? You can see from the last 3 addresses he's been just jumping state lines to the next place. I'm guessing Oklahoma, Kansas or Nebraska next. If Steve thinks he can try and ruin Corroded Coffin through Robin Buckley, then it's up to us to prove him wrong," the guy is saying, and Eddie thinks maybe this guy is just exaggerating but the comment section is already filled with other people saying vile shit about what they should send to Steve or what they'd like to do to him physically and-

Eddie clicks off the video, to the next recommended. The more he watches, the angrier they seem to get. He goes to the search bar and looks for new react videos.

He finds that everyone has an opinion. He watches videos where his own fans express their disappointment in him. They talk about how Corroded Coffin runs an antibully campaign and then allows their fans to bully an ex and for not calling out the ones doxxing people, wanting to know which was the reason - does Eddie not know, or does he not care? Eddie didn't know. Truly. But he can't help but wonder if he didn't know because he didn't care.

He'd written all his feelings into a song, and now that he's older, he can see that a lot of what he was feeling is an exaggeration and dramatization of what really happened. But the point is, he'd written out his feelings and moved on.

The man he thought he'd marry one day.

His stomach twists uncomfortably as Robin's voice rings in his mind.

He continues his spiral down YouTube until Gareth calling him again breaks through and he answers.

"How is this the first time I'm hearing about Robin's interview?" Eddie demands.

"You've got a damn good PR team, that's how. I guess you fell down the rabbit hole, then?"

"How'd you-"

"Is been almost 4 hours since we talked. Doesn't take that long to watch a 30 minute video."

"Oh. Alright. So, why did you want me to watch the video? Am I supposed to respond to Robin?"

"No. People don't actually want to hear from you. They want to hear from Steve. And that's why you needed to watch. 'Cause Robin's announced that Steve's finally ready to make a statement. Robin's going to post it on her Twitter. Tonight. So, we've got to be ready. If anything Robin said turns out to be true, we might have a problem on our hands. A slander lawsuit being just the beginning."

"Fuck."

"What a way to sum it up," Gareth chuckles into the phone before his tone becomes serious, "hey, how are you doing, though? With it all?"

He thinks about it, and how he really feels, before answering. "It's been years since I've thought about Steve, y'know? I... I've had that luxury. I didn't know.... Did you?"

"No. Hell no! I'd of said something. I mean, shit man, we run an antibully campaign 'cause high school was shit to us. If I'd known at all we'd have been telling them to fuck off. Harassment's just what they call bullying adults."

Eddie swallows. "Guess we just have to wait and see what Stevie has to say."

"I'd come sit on the couch with you and refresh twitter frantically but, well, Indy's a bit of a ways off. I'll call after Robin's posted, then?"

"Yeah, man. Let's see the damage," Eddie sighed. "Talk to ya later."

"Bye."

Eddie digs out his laptop and pulls up Robin's twitter page. He adds an auto-refresher extension and sets it to refresh every minute before opening his phone and pulling up YouTube again.

#steddie #my fic #based on xoxoladyaz's ficlet #it'll be three parts i think #the interview #Steve's response and the immediate aftermath of that #and eddie meeting up with steve to talk

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hotvintagepoll · 2 months

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Propaganda

Frances Dee (Becky Sharpe, Little Women)—no propaganda submitted

Ingrid Bergman (Gaslight, Casablanca, Notorious)—Where do I even begin with Ingrid Bergman? I fell in love with her with her astounding performance in the 1956 version of Anastasia -- the best Anastasia movie in large part due to her wonderful and touching performance. She's got this amazing, fascinating intensity to her in whatever role she's in. She commits 100%, and she's got this light in whatever she's in that's stunning. She's utterly convincing no matter what she plays, from an amnesiac possible lost princess, from a nun, from a woman taking her revenge on the town that wronged her, to light romantic comedy. She's never missed in any role I've seen her in! Also she became quite the MILF.

This is round 1 of the tournament. All other polls in this bracket can be found here. Please reblog with further support of your beloved hot sexy vintage woman.

[additional propaganda submitted under the cut.]

Frances Dee:

Ingrid Bergman:

God, she's fantastic. She's both beautiful and a compelling actor who's more than capable of putting the whole movie on her shoulders if necessary. It's worth noting that while her beauty is conventional, she was seen as refreshingly "natural" with more eyebrows and less makeup than many other leading ladies of the time. She's well known for her role in Casablanca, but in Notorious, Spellbound, (both available on archive.org ) and Gaslight (1944) she shows how immensely capable she is. [editor's note: I've seen all of these movies and I think they're fine, but it's been a minute, so I can't thoroughly tag for trigger warnings or officially "recommend"—as always, go forth with caution when a movie is mentioned in a propaganda submission, and don't take a mention as an official recommendation of this blog.]

I mean...she's Ingrid Bergman. I feel like that should be enough, you know? She's physically beautiful (her eyes!) but watching her is like a transcendent experience. Her voice, her expressions... beautiful woman, beautiful actor.

I'm a gay man but even I understand her appeal. I'll watch any movie she shows up in. Gorgeous woman.

Just try and watch her movies without sighing wistfully, then get back to me!

Choosing 1-3 movies where Bergman was at her hottest was agony because, of course, she was always at her hottest. Not just because she was beautiful but because she was absolutely willing to go up against the bs women in Hollywood were constantly dealing with. When exiled from Hollywood for having an affair with Roberto Rossellini, not only did she refuse to apologize at any point, but she went on to say that Hollywood's films had grown stagnant and boring to her. Though she said she appreciated her time working there, she wanted to try new, different techniques (hence starring in Italian neorealist films, working on stage, and acting under directors like Ingmar Bergman). She was not afraid to chase after her artistic ideals and go outside the box regardless of what society had to say about it. From her first movie to her last she killed it. There's so much more to say about Bergman's career and life, but I've already written five million words so I'll stop at that.

One of the most incredible actors I've ever seen on film. Her facial expressions are so intricate and poignant that I cannot look away. I'm either ace or straight, but damn she made me question that.

SEVEN TIME OSCAR NOMINEE QUEEN. Girl also PULLED, having affairs with famously hot men Gary Cooper and Gregory Peck IN ADDITION to her three marriages...sexy

She has a very natural beauty to her, and she's from Sweden!

She left Hollywood and only became more beautiful. You could drown in her eyes. She can look innocent AND like she's seen it all. She is effortlessly elegant. She's played Joan of Arc (automatically hot) AND was in the movie that coined gaslight as a term. And where would we be without that!

She was known for being a breath of fresh air on the movie scene at the time with her windswept hair, dreamy smile and soulful eyes. I have loved her in every movie I have seen her in - she was just magnetic!

Where do I even start. There's a neighborly quality to this beautiful, talented actress that makes her hotness one of a kind and her looks impossible to forget

With a career spanning five decades, Bergman is often regarded as one of the most influential screen figures in cinematic history. Known for her naturally luminous beauty, Bergman spoke five languages – Swedish, English, German, Italian and French – and acted in each.

She's hot, don't get me wrong, but I've always found her very approachable, like she could easily be a member of my friend group

A lot of the time hotness in a movie is just about words and framing. "You're the most beautiful person here" [vaseline lens] well I sure hope so because that's who you cast. But when, in Casablanca, they call Ingrid Bergman the most beautiful woman in the world... they were not fucking lying. And such a dynamite actor too!! I'd only seen Casablanca up until last year, and there she's confined to love interest. But in Gaslight she was maybe one of the most incredible actors I've ever seen!!!! Goddddd shes so fucking hot and cool.

#ingrid bergman #frances dee #hotvintagepoll #ladies 1 #fuck that old woman

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skygemspeaks · 8 months

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okay let's do this again, for the last time this season, and what a way to end it!

i like that nami got to be included in the walk to arlong park, it was really nice!

the banter between zoro and sanji is already quite funny. i like that sanji is just earnestly trying to be part of the crew, but zoro's being a little bit bitchy because he feels like his place as the first mate is being threatened. later on in the episode when sanji starts calling out his move names, and zoro makes fun of him for it...how much do you wanna bet that the reason zoro starts calling out his attack names because his thought process is like "oh no, the shitty cook is also calling out his attack names what if luffy starts liking him better than me because i don't do it?"

as someone with dental trauma, seeing arlong's teeth fall out one by one was horrifying, thank you very much. it was well done

the fights in this arc were well choreographed, and i'm actually really happy that they all finished by around halfway through the episode because then we got a good amount of time to wrap everything up

it was really sweet when nami went running up to tackle usopp and zoro in a hug. i did feel a bit bad for sanji, but ehh it's understandable. she's been sailing with usopp and zoro for a while now! those are her boys!!!! and she didn't think she'd ever be able to sail with them again! she barely even knows sanji at this point

the scene after the tower comes crashing down and the straw hats are all waiting to see if luffy made it is great. nami looks like her whole world is ending again, because first she lost her mother, and now she might have lost her captain. and then everyone's relief when they see luffy come out is palpable! sanji doesn't even try to hide his relief! he's become so emotionally invested in this crew already and he's known them for just a few days

sanji's smugness when zoro comes back for seconds was cute, and i love their banter afterwards!

koby and helmeppo standing up to garp when they disagree with his orders was a good scene, and i liked their conversation about it afterwards at the end of the episode. each marine's personal code of justice is a big theme in the anime, and i like that they establish it here, and that it's what impresses garp enough to make him want to train them personally

we finally got the luffy vs garp confrontation! it was a good way to see just how small luffy is in the grand scheme of things, that he wasn't able to hurt garp at all. when luffy starts laughing and garp drops him and starts laughing as well, it was a good tension break. i really really wish that we got at least one grandpa hug before garp left...i know it never happened in the manga, but i crave that grandfatherly affection for luffy. but i know neither of these two idiots are like that. ace better fucking hug luffy at least once next season i s2g.

when nami is talking to bellemere's grave, and nojiko shows up wearing bellemere's shirt.....🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺

the final conversation with luffy and koby was adorable! i loved the hug! also, i really like that koby was the first one to show luffy his bounty. a great way of coming full circle to the beginning of the season when he's standing next to luffy, looking at the notice board in shells town and luffy asks where his face is

the scenes where people see luffy's bounty!!!! makino grinning in pride!! kaya already looking healthier without kuro's poison! Zeff posting luffy's poster on the employee of the month board!!!!!!!! alvida and buggy meeting!!!! (if they make alvida lose weight or recast her next season i'm gonna kill someone)

helmeppo finally admitted that koby was his friend!!!! their little fistbump!! i've really come to like koby over the course of this season, and it's been great seeing his character arc

the mihawk and shanks conversation was great! shanks making jokes about his missing arm was hilarious, i love how irreverent he is

the redhair pirates are all SO proud when they see luffy's poster!!! and shanks' big, goofy, proud grin when as he stares at the poster just made my heart melt.

merry finally gets to fly the straw hat jolly roger again, i'm so happy for her!! luffy's absolute uncontainable joy at the sight of it, like he can't believe his eyes, was absolutely perfect!

the cast-off ceremony was fantastic! i really like the effect they did where their younger selves spoke in the voices of their older selves.

i could be wrong, but i think i heard we are in that last scene as they sailed off? which, amazing!

FUCK YEAH THAT LAST SHOT OF SMOKER!!! i can't wait to see more of him next season!!!

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golbrocklovely · 6 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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formulapierre · 1 month

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Oklahoma Smokeshow | Logan Sargeant

Pairing: Logan Sargeant x Reader , OC x Reader

Prompt: Where you and Logan both had the dream of getting out of your small town and he was the only one that made it.

Warnings: I know Logan isn't southern but I couldn't help myself...

Word Count: 5.8k

Song: Oklahoma Smokeshow - Zach Bryan

There's so much whiskey in his Coke it'll make her nose bend But she swears that his love is a damn God send She's known God since she was a child

After being away for so long, Logan had just rolled back into town a few hours ago. He was still settling in when the familiar sound of his old best friend, Colton, echoed through his door. Colton, ever the persistent one, was begging him to join him for a night out on the town. Despite his tiredness, Logan agreed, knowing that if he didn’t, Colton would pester him incessantly for days.

The local bar, a place teeming with old faces and fond memories, was their chosen destination. Logan made his way there a few minutes earlier than planned, the anticipation of a lively night stirring in him. He ordered his usual drink, then took a seat, soaking in the familiar yet distant ambiance of the bar.

Not too long after, a couple of girls made their entrance, their laughter cutting through the murmur of the crowd. Close on their heels was Colton, readjusting his jeans button with a triumphant smirk on his face. Upon joining Logan, Colton ordered a round of drinks for the girls, giving them a casual nod of acknowledgement.

"Do I want to know?" Logan asked, raising an eyebrow in curiosity at Colton’s antics.

"They were a lot of fun…” Colton replied, his voice laced with amusement. He wore a smug grin as he indulged in his whiskey and coke. As the night wore on, the bar started buzzing with more patrons. The work-weary crowd was eager to kick back and relax, especially because it was a Friday night.

"There she is!" Colton suddenly exclaimed, his eyes lighting up at the sight of the door. Prompted by his exclamation, Logan turned to look, and a familiar face had him stifling a smile. It was you. "I've missed you, baby," Colton falsely confessed, his arms pulling you into a warm embrace and his lips meeting yours in a passionate kiss. This unexpected sight left Logan momentarily stunned.

"Oh my god! Logan!" You gasped, your eyes lighting up as they finally spotted him. "You're back!" You gushed excitedly, pulling him into a heartfelt hug. Logan had been away for years, and he hadn't seen you since the day he left, the day he broke your heart. He seemed different now - a little taller, broader at the shoulders, and his voice had a rougher edge to it.

"I've missed you so much, darling," he confessed, his voice soft yet sincere. His accent had changed slightly, the old twang of 'darlin'' replaced with a more polished 'darling'.

"Hey, hey…get your hands off my girl," Colton joked, breaking the moment as he hands you a drink.

"When did that happen?" Logan asked, his surprise evident. He would have never guessed that you'd end up with Colton, given his notorious history and recent display of desire with other women.

"Oh…we kinda just fell into bed together one night and it went from there," you explained, laughing it off as Colton's hand found its way to your hip. "But as it turns out, it all worked out pretty well, I think. Don't you agree, my love?"

"I do…you're all I could ever want," Colton replied, the smug smile returning to his face as he kissed you, reaffirming his earlier statement.

She used to play in the yard and she would dream of one day 'Til the world came around and took her dreaming away Told her how to dress and act and smile

“You know…” You began, stepping out of the bustling room, finally finding a quiet moment to pull Logan aside. “They always said you wouldn’t make it…’that boys got a head full of cotton’…” The words brought back old memories, both good and bad, but You said them with a smile. “But just look at you now…” You added, voice thick with layered emotions - pride for His achievements, admiration for his strength, and a hint of unfulfilled longing. Longing for the possibility of having made it out like He did, escaping the confines of your small town life.

“If I’d done as I was told, I wouldn’t have achieved anything,” He retorted, his gaze steady on yours, a shared understanding passing between you, Both remembering the desperation, the yearning for more, the urge to break free that you'd both felt.

“I’m so incredibly proud of you, Lo’,” You confessed, your voice barely a whisper as you wrapped your arms around his broad, strong shoulders and pulled him into a tight embrace. His arms moved instinctively around your waist, pulling you closer, and in that moment, a floodgate of memories was opened, washing over you like a tidal wave.

I'm gonna miss you so much," You confessed, tears streaming down your face like a river. You clung to him, arms wrapped around him in a tight embrace, cherishing the last moments before He inevitably had to leave.

"I know," Logan replied, his voice thick with emotion. His hand gently brushed over your hair, a comforting gesture that you had come to love. "And I'm gonna miss you even more. Just remember if anyone asks...”

"You went to basic training…" You repeated, the words echoing in your mind. He had been drilling this into you for weeks, reminding you time and again. Ever since Logan's dad had crushed his dreams of going to Italy to continue his racing career, every waking moment had been consumed by his relentless pursuit of that dream. He had been working tirelessly, juggling two jobs just to scrape together enough money for a one-way plane ticket.

Despite his efforts, he fell short by a few hundred dollars. So, you gave him the money that you’d been saving up. It was a small sacrifice in the grand scheme of things. At least one of you was going to make it out of this small town and achieve your dreams.

"I love you so much, darlin'," he said, his voice just a whisper in the quiet night. He slowly pulled away from your embrace, his hands lingering on your cheeks before he leaned down to press a gentle kiss on your forehead.

"I love you more, Lo'," You replied, voice barely more than a whisper, shaking with the weight of your impending separation. He let go of you and then took a step back, creating a physical distance that seemed to echo the emotional one that was about to come.

He walked towards his car then, his silhouette illuminated by the dim glow of the streetlights. You had offered to accompany him to the airport, but he reassured you that it would only make things harder, more painful.

As he drove away, the tears kept falling. With your hand covering your mouth, You retreated back into the house, not wanting anyone to hear the sobs that wracked your body.

He looked at you, a sincere gratitude etched on his face. "I wouldn't have made it without you, darling," he confessed, his voice carrying a tone of deep admiration. "Without your help, I never would have gotten on that flight."

You met his gaze, your eyes softening. "But you did, and that's what matters. I would have done anything to help you, Lo’," you reassured him, your voice firm but gentle. "Lending you a couple hundred bucks was the very least I could do."

He paused for a moment, his eyes never leaving yours. "I owe you my career... my success," he admitted, every word echoing the weight of his gratitude. "If you ever need anything, I will always be here for you," he promised, the sincerity of his words reflected in the depths of his eyes.

Just as the moment began to solidify, a loud voice cut through the tenderness. "Come on, baby! We're getting out of here!" Colton shouted from the entrance to the bar, his words shattering the intimate atmosphere like a stone through glass.

You turned to him, a soft sigh escaping your lips. "I'll be there in a moment," you replied, your voice carrying a hint of reluctance. You turned back to Logan, your gaze lingering on his for a brief second before you pulled away, the promise of a quiet conversation lost in the noise of the bar as you followed your boyfriend back inside.

She's an Oklahoma Smokeshow He's an asshole from back home

"Wow...you look absolutely stunning tonight, Darlin'," Logan said, his voice laced with admiration. His eyes swept over your figure as you approached him, extending his hand to you. He caught your hand in his and spun you around, allowing him a full view of your outfit. The sounds of your infectious laughter filled the quiet room.

"Thank you, baby," you replied, your face lit up with a broad, beaming smile. You felt a warm happiness bubble up within you. His compliment, simple as it was, had a profound effect on you.

"Ready to go?" he asked, his gaze locking onto yours. You were set to meet up with some friends that night at one of their farms. It was going to be a casual gathering with a bonfire, a perfect setting for the summer night. You had picked out a beautiful dress for the occasion, one covered in a soft floral pattern that you knew Logan adored. It was a perfect blend of comfort and style, ideal for the night's activities.

"Definitely," you responded, excitement lacing your tone as you anticipated the fun-filled night ahead.

As you walked towards the car, you looked up at the clear night sky. The stars were sparkling brightly, and a sense of peace washed over you. Tonight was going to be a good night.

Logan opened the car door for you, a chivalrous act that never failed to make you smile. You slid into the seat, the worn leather cool against your skin. The drive to the farm was filled with soft music and comfortable silence, broken by your shared laughter and occasional conversation. The town lights slowly faded in the rearview mirror as you moved further into the countryside, the darkness illuminated only by the bright stars above and the car's headlights.

Once you arrived at the farm, the sound of laughter and soft chatter reached your ears. The bonfire was already crackling, casting dancing shadows on the faces of your friends who had gathered around. You could see the silhouette of horses in the nearby field, their peaceful grazing adding to the tranquil atmosphere.

Logan squeezed your hand reassuringly as you made your way to the group, the warmth of the fire drawing you in. You were greeted with smiles and hugs, making you feel instantly at home.

"Finally, you made it! We were starting to get a little concerned about y’all," exclaimed one of your friends, her smile broad and welcoming as she handed you each a chilled drink.

"I apologise," you admitted, a sheepish grin on your face as you raised your hands in a playful surrender. "I completely lost track of time. I forgot we had decided to leave at 6."

"Well, you should’ve just come by yourself then, Logan," retorted Colton in a teasing tone, a smirk playing on his lips. "Everyone knows girls always take an eternity to get ready...and it’s not even like it’s always worth the wait," he added, his laughter echoing in the room.

"There's no way I'm going anywhere without my girl," Logan stated, his voice filled with warmth and affection. With a soft smile playing on his lips, he reached out, pulling you closer to him. His strong arms enveloped you in a tender embrace, radiating comfort and security, asserting his unwavering commitment to keeping you by his side no matter what.

You nestled into his embrace, your heart fluttering at his words. The air filled with the light banter and laughter of your friends, but all you could focus on was the steady beat of Logan's heart against your own. His presence was a calming familiarity in the midst of the busy party. You felt a sense of serenity wash over you as you leaned into him, his steady heartbeat a comforting rhythm in your ear. His fingers traced small circles on your back, further easing your nerves. Looking up at him, you found Logan's gaze already on you, a tender smile on his lips. He leaned down to press a soft kiss to your forehead, whispering a quiet "I love you" that made your heart flutter again. In that moment, surrounded by the noise and laughter of your friends, you knew there was no place you'd rather be than here.

"Could you two possibly get a room? It's honestly nauseating," Colton shouts from a few feet away, his voice filled with feigned disgust. He dramatically clutches his stomach and sticks out his tongue as though he's about to be physically sick. His exaggeration brings a wave of laughter from the others in the room, effectively breaking the intimate moment between you and Logan. “God, This is why I hate parties with girls…,”

She'll never make it out alive That small town bar scene Where small vices kill your big dreams

Logan cast a glance in your direction, his brows creased in a question. "What happened?" He asked, the confusion evident in his voice. You turned to look at him, your expression mirroring his confusion. "While I was away, what happened? You used to be so desperate to get outta this place," he elaborated, his words triggering a scoff from you.

"Getting out was never in the cards for me, Logan. We both knew that," you responded, your voice brimming with a resigned acceptance. "While the world turned in your favour, for me, it seemed to stand still. Grandma fell ill, so I had to put my plans on hold and take care of her. Mom was already stretched thin, trying to keep the rest of the family going. After Grandma passed away, it just didn't feel right to pack my bags and leave, no matter how much I wanted it. There were countless nights I found myself staring at your number on my phone, my finger hovering over the call button, ready to tell you that I was booking a flight."

His curiosity piqued, Logan asked, "So why didn't you?" His face was once again etched with confusion.

A laugh escaped your lips as you replied, "I fell into bed with Colton." You paused for a moment, reminiscing. "As I said, things eventually fell into place with him. My parents took a shine to him, and his parents seemed to love me. We began entertaining dreams of moving in together, of finding a little place we could call our own. Mom is already eagerly talking about grandchildren," you continued, your voice tinged with a mix of amusement and resignation.

Logan looked at you, his face a picture of surprise. "But you never wanted any of that," he reminded you, his words echoing your past sentiments.

A sigh escaped your lips as you nodded in agreement. "I didn't, and to be honest, part of me still doesn't. But Colton, he understands that. He isn't pressuring me into anything. We're moving at a pace that I'm comfortable with, something that I'm extremely grateful for," you explained, your tone filled with sincerity.

Logan absorbed your words, his expression sombre. "I guess things changed while I was away," he concluded, his voice carrying a note of resignation.

You nodded and responded softly, "Yes, they did." You understood the underlying meaning of Logan's words. But you also knew that you couldn't give him the reassurance he so desperately sought.

He'd take you home but he's too drunk to drive

You were standing outside the bar, calling Logan on your phone. It was close to midnight, and Colton had left, intending to walk home despite his intoxicated state. You had assured him that you'd call a friend to pick you up, conveniently leaving out the detail that the friend would be Logan.

"Hey...I know it's late but-," you began, but were interrupted as soon as he answered the phone.

"Where are you?" He cut in.

"At Maria's...Colton was too drunk to drive so he's walking home," you explained, sighing. This wasn't the first time you found yourself in this situation.

"I'm on my way," He replied hurriedly. You could hear him moving around over the phone.

"Thank you, Lo'," you said, relieved. As promised you saw his truck pull in a little while later and he climbed out to come and help you in.

"You know, I've been drinking soda all night, I'm perfectly alright," you declare, asserting your independence as he offers a supportive hand to help you up from the cold, hard curb. Despite your protests, he gently assists you, lifting you up to your feet with an unexpected tenderness. He then graciously opens the truck door for you.

"Feel like talking about it?" He tentatively inquires, his voice rich with genuine concern. He leans over to fasten your seatbelt, a simple act that sends a wave of his musky cologne wafting into your nostrils, momentarily distracting you from your turmoil.

"It's Colton…I don't know what more you want me to say?" you respond, your voice laced with a hint of bitterness. Your words hang in the air as he walks around the large, imposing truck and gets into the driver's seat, his silhouette barely visible against the dim glow of the dashboard.

"You...you deserve so much more than him..." he murmurs, almost too softly for you to catch his words. The engine purrs to life, breaking the silence, and he smoothly eases out of the desolate parking lot, leaving behind the scene of your heartbreak.

"Logan, that's your best friend we're talking about," you say, slightly taken aback by his unexpected candour, your voice echoing in the confines of the truck.

"Best friend or not, I can't stand by and watch you get hurt," Logan replies, the raw honesty in his voice making you catch your breath. "You deserve someone who treats you with respect and love, not someone who plays with your feelings." He adds, his gaze focused on the road, but his words aimed straight at your heart.

"Wait, what are you trying to say, Logan?" you ask, a hint of confusion lacing your voice. "He just had too much to drink tonight… it’s not really a big deal, Lo’."

Logan pauses, as if carefully choosing his next words. "It's not just about tonight," he begins, his voice serious. "Remember the night I arrived in town and we all decided to hit the bar? I got there a bit early and saw him... he came in with a few girls and um…wasn’t very discreet about what He had been doing… That was before you arrived. It's not just about him getting drunk, it's about his respect for you."

A silence fills the truck, punctuated only by the soft hum of the engine. Your mind is a whirlwind of thoughts, processing Logan's words.

"And... and you didn’t think to tell me this before?" you ask, hurt flashing in your eyes. Your heart feels heavy in your chest, the sting of betrayal gnawing at you.

Logan sighs, running a hand through his hair. "You told me you loved him and I didn’t want to upset you," he says, his voice barely above a whisper. "And I thought...maybe it was just a one time thing. But seeing him tonight, seeing how he treated you...it’s clear to me now that it probably wasn’t."

His words hang in the air, a sad truth that neither of you can ignore. The rest of the drive is quiet, each of you lost in your own thoughts. The familiarity of the town lights passing by is a stark contrast to the newfound tension between you. It's clear that things may never be the same again.

“He’s not you Logan,”

I've been here, I've been up all night Thinkin' 'bout a life with you and I

"Look, there's Daddy!" you exclaimed, your voice brimming with joy. Your three-year-old daughter, Daisy, had been waiting for this moment for days. Her constant chatter about her father's impending return had filled the house with anticipation. You had always known, even before you’d gotten married and decided to start a family, that having him away for at least 25 weeks a year wouldn't be easy. It was a sacrifice that came with his job, a reality that you both had accepted.

"There's my sweet girl!" Logan's voice echoed as he climbed out of his truck, his face breaking into a wide grin. His boots crunched the gravel as he walked towards the porch, his eyes lighting up at the sight of the family he had been away from. Upon seeing her Daddy, Daisy looked up at you, her eyes wide with anticipation. With a supportive nod from you, she broke free from your hold, her little legs carrying her as fast as they could towards Logan. His arms instantly enveloped her, lifting her up into a warm embrace. Daisy had always been a daddy’s girl, their bond was undeniable. Seeing them together, their laughter filling the air, made your heart swell with happiness. He turned towards you, his eyes sparkling with affection, "-and my other sweet girl, how are you doing, darling?" He asked, wrapping his free arm around you and pulling you in for a kiss.

"I'm good," you replied. "This little lady right here hasn’t stopped talking about you all week," you said, your fingers gently tickling Daisy's chest, sparking a fit of giggles from her.

"Oh yeah? Is that so?" He asked, his voice full of amusement. Daisy responded by burying her face deeper into his chest, her giggles muffled against his shirt. The sight had you both laughing. "Well, I’m home now so you don’t need to worry," he reassured her, his words causing a wide grin to break out across her face.

"Mommy let me stay up to watch you on the TV. You were going super fast, Daddy!" She spoke excitedly, her eyes shining with admiration. The race had started just before her bedtime. She had insisted on staying up, convinced that her daddy would end up with a shiny trophy if she watched. As usual, she had been spot-on; Logan had indeed finished second.

"I was, and it was all for you, baby girl," he responded, his voice filled with pride. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a Pirelli cap. The silver embroidered ‘2nd’ gleamed in the sunlight as he placed it on her head.

One you'll never know 'Cause you're a small town smokeshow

"Absolutely not, Logan. The answer is no!" his mother declared with a firmness that was rarely seen, effectively putting an end to the months-long discussion. Logan had been tirelessly pleading for a plane ticket to Italy as a gift for his upcoming 16th birthday.

"We should never have let your imagination run wild with this racing car driver fantasy of yours," his father chimed in, shaking his head in disapproval while reminiscing over the countless hours Logan had spent on the karting track.

"But I'm actually good at it. I even got a letter from a professional race team in Italy. They wanna sign me. They sent a scout to the final race last season," Logan retorted, waving the official-looking letter in his hand.

"Logan, you're only 16. We can't just let you travel halfway across the world alone to meet some stranger who sent you a letter!" his mother exclaimed, concern evident in her voice.

"Regardless, I've enrolled you in the Marines. Your training is set to begin in April and that's the end of it. Your mother and I do not wish to hear another word about this. Is that understood?" his father sternly said, clearly drawing the line.

"Yes, sir," Logan replied, his teeth clenched tight in frustration as he walked away. He was resolute in his determination to make it to Italy, regardless of his parents' approval or disapproval.

-----

You know, Pumpkin, when your Momma and I were just about your age, we were already thinking about our future together," her father reminisced as they sat comfortably on the porch, their gazes following the playful antics of her younger siblings.

"I know Daddy, you remind me all the time," She responded, her voice filled with an affectionate smile and a soft laugh that echoed in the warm evening.

"I just believe it's time for you to start considering your own future, Pumpkin. Not too long from now, you'll be settling down, in a lovely house like this one, surrounded by a family of your own," he advised, his words a familiar tune she had heard play numerous times before.

"But what if that's not the life I want?" she ventured to ask, her voice barely above a whisper.

"What? Of course it is…," he returned, his tone one of disbelief, clearly assuming she was joking.

"Oh, I was merely teasing, Daddy," she quickly reassured him, her smile wavering slightly. "What about Logan, though? We've been together almost a year now,"

"That boy isn't what you need...he's got a head full of cotton," her father declared, shaking his head in disapproval.

"He's going to make something of himself, Daddy, I just know it. I've seen him race," she countered, her voice hardening in defence.

"I don't think so, pumpkin...and you deserve someone better. You need a boy who can provide stability and security for you and your future family," he stated, presenting his viewpoint as an unequivocal fact.

Well, I've been here, I've been up all night Thinkin' 'bout a life with you and I

As Logan lay sprawled in his bed, the warm, humid summer air kept him wide awake. His thoughts, chaotic and relentless, sprinted through his mind at an overwhelming speed. Restless, he climbed out of bed, his bare feet hitting the cool floor. He pushed the balcony doors wide open, allowing the faint scent of summer air to waft in. He sat down, the cold metal of the chair a sharp contrast against his skin, and looked out over the vast expanse of dry fields that stretched out behind the house. In the quiet solitude of the night, he found himself indulging in a dangerous pastime - dreaming about what his life might have looked like if you were still a part of it.

"Logan, you've got 5 minutes till you need to be in the car," his team principal, James, called out, his voice echoing as the mechanics bustled around him. Logan merely nodded in acknowledgement, his mind elsewhere as he pulled up the zipper of his sleek, fitted race suit.

"You're gonna do amazing, baby," you said to him, your voice filled with unwavering confidence. His cap sat atop your head, a stark contrast to your soft features. You stood at the back of his garage, cradling his helmet in your arms, the design adorning it being one you had created for him.

"I can only do it with your support, Darling," he replied, his voice muffled slightly as he pushed his earplugs in and pulled his balaclava on. You then lifted his helmet, the protective gear feeling heavy in your hands, and pulled it down over his head. You let him adjust it, making sure it sat snugly and securely. Once he was comfortable, you flipped his visor up, revealing his striking blue eyes. They twinkled with a mix of excitement and nerves, a sight that made your heart flutter. You leaned in, pressing a tender kiss to his helmet where his lips would be, and saw a genuine smile reach his eyes.

With a last glance at you, he climbed into the race car, his hands gripping the wheel tightly. As he prepared for the race, he felt the familiar rush of adrenaline. He knew he would give it his all, not just for the win, but for you.

As the engines roared to life around him, Logan's heart pounded in sync with their rhythm. His focus narrowed to the track in front of him, everything else fading into the background. The air was thick with tension as everyone waited for the signal to start.

The moment the flag dropped, Logan hit the throttle, the car speeding forward with a force that pressed him back into his seat. He navigated the twists and turns of the track with precision, his every move calculated and deliberate. Amid the roaring engines and the screeching tires, he found a strange sense of peace.

The race was a blur of speed and adrenaline, but through it all, Logan's mind kept drifting back to you. He imagined your proud smile as he crossed the finish line, the way your eyes would light up. It was that image that propelled him forward, pushing him to take risks and make daring moves.

As he took the final turn and sped towards the finish line, he felt a surge of triumph. He had done it. He had won. But as he slowed down and removed his helmet, his thoughts were not on his victory. They were on you. The thought of you cheering on from his garage, he cleared parc ferme as quickly as he could, heading straight for where his team stood.

As he clambered out of his car and locked eyes with you over the heads of his team, his victory felt all the more sweet. He was surrounded by cheers and congratulations, but all he cared about was the proud smile on your face. It was your unwavering support that drove him, your faith in him that pushed him to be better.

Without breaking his gaze from yours, Logan weaved through the people, shaking hands and clapping backs, but his destination was clear. As he reached the barrier, he pulled off his gloves and reached out for your hand. Pulling you into his sweaty, fire-proof clad body, he whispered in your ear, "This is for you Darlin’." His southern accent slipping back out.

You laughed and pulled away, only to be pulled back in for a deep, passionate kiss. His lips were salty from sweat, but you didn't care. As he pulled away, he rested his forehead against yours, his blue eyes filled with affection and gratitude. "Thank you," he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

And as the crowd continued to cheer and the cameras flashed around them, capturing their intimate moment for the world to see.

Logan hadn’t even noticed the precise moment when he slipped from the conscious world into the realm of dreams, his dream was so incredibly sweet and comforting that it didn’t matter to him whether he was asleep or awake. So, when he slowly opened his eyes, coming back to reality, and noticed the soft rays of the sun timidly peeking through the dense canopy of the trees, he couldn't help but give a low, amused chuckle to himself.

One you'll never know 'Cause you're a small town smokeshow

"What do you mean you want to leave?" She asks, her voice echoing through the dining room.

"I don't want to stay here forever, Momma. There's a much bigger world outside our town," You responded, my voice steady despite the weight of the words. The room fell silent, with everyone at the long, mahogany table watching your exchange with wide, surprised eyes.

"But that doesn't matter. You'll stay here and marry a nice boy from a good family..." she starts, her voice trailing off when she's interrupted.

"Your Momma's right, Pumpkin. Your family is here, leaving ain’t an option," he interjects from the head of the table. His voice, usually so soothing, now sounds harsh and authoritative.

"But Daddy!" You protest. He is usually the one who indulges your dreams and fantasies, but this time it feels different, colder somehow.

"That's the end of it. You don't see anyone else wanting to leave, do you? Be grateful for what you have," she declares, her tone final and her gaze sweeping over your siblings, hoping to discourage them from getting any similar ideas.

"But Logan left. Why can't I?" You argue, determined not to let the discussion end here. Your will is not so easily broken.

"Do you see how he lives, Pumpkin? Alone in Europe, travelling every other week. It's no life for a young lady like you," he retorts, his stern look signalling the end of the discussion. You rise from the table, tossing your napkin onto the untouched plate before you grab your keys, and head for your car, the sound of your boots clicking against the wooden floor echoing through the now silent room.

Go on and put on that dress that all the bad boys like I know your daddy ain't home so ride with me tonight

"I just can't do it anymore, Logan. I can't bear the weight of the constant judgement or the suffocating expectation to be someone I'm not!" You exclaim in desperation, shutting the door of the car with a loud ‘thud’. The sound echoes in the quiet street as You make your way towards his house, heart pounding in your chest. He stands a short distance away from where He’d been sitting when you’d first arrived, His silhouette illuminated by the soft glow of the porch light.

"And what is it that you want?" He asks, his voice calm and steady, enveloping you like a warm blanket on a cold night.

"I...I want to escape from all of this...I want you to take me away with you," You finally manage to say, a soft, hopeful smile spreading across your lips as He approaches. The soft rustling of leaves under his feet is the only sound in the quiet night as his pace quickens, descending the steps of the porch in a hurry. He pulls you into his arms with a swift motion, enveloping you in a warm embrace, pressing his lips to yours in a soft, reassuring kiss.

"Then let's get out of here," Logan’s voice a whisper against your lips..

I hope you enjoyed my first Logan fic...I have to admit I have a bit of a soft spot for him so there may be more to come in the future - E x

#f1 imagine #formula 1 imagine #charles leclerc #f1 #f1 x reader #george russell #formula one x reader #logan sargeant #logan sargeant x reader #lando norris #logan sargent x reader #pierre gasly #daniel ricciardo #Spotify

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saturnville · 2 months

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the man in the suit.

pairing: miguel galindo x afro latina fem oc (eliana)

prompt: miguel becomes infatuated with eliana, the owner of a popular coffee shop in town.

an: I was asked to bring back the Miguel Galindo fics by an anon. it's been over two years since I've written anything Mayans, but I'm always willing to revisit old fandoms, so, here we go, I hope you enjoy.

Her coffee shop was a staple in the town. Known for the rich Colombian coffee beans ground with intentionality, brewed with love, and served in mugs crafted by her own hands. The aura was always calm. Busy, but never so much that guests couldn't enjoy their time. They, just like she often, would get lost in the melodies of indie music that played from the speakers and drunk off caffeine and oat milk. The Tranquil Lounge was a blessing to Santo Padre.

Saturdays were the busiest days in the Lounge. College students stopped by to grind out assignments due the following day at midnight, entrepreneurs chugged coffee like water to finalize funding proposals, and others snuggled by the window with a good book. They were lively and invigorating; her favorite days in the shop.

She danced around her employees, humming a Marc Anthony tune as she topped off a cup with cold foam. Vivir mi vida, la, la, la, la, she hummed to herself.

"I'm very impressed. Most people don't know the lyrics passed the chorus," said an unfamiliar voice. Her teeth gleamed as she smiled softly. Her head still down, she placed a lid on the cup and slid it to the other side of the counter.

"I consider myself determined when it comes to learning song lyrics," she replied. "What can I get you?" Finally, she lifted her head, and she struggled to fight the instinct to gasp. How had he found her little coffee shop in town?

Miguel Galindo was notorious in Santo Padre. A businessman with illegal practices. The government hated him, men envied him, and women wanted him. Everyone in Santo Padre knew who he was and they knew better than to cross him. Their families could end up missing within hours if they upset him. It should have struck fear in her heart, but his presence did the opposite.

Her eyes scanned his attire. Bold of him to wear a white suit to drink coffee. But, it looked beautiful against his olive complexion. It was perfectly tailored to hug his broad shoulders. Her eyes followed its outline.

His brown eyes scanned the beautifully curated menu behind her. Bright colors against the blackboard. Sunflowers, rainbows, and bees decorated the menu. Creative, he noted. "I'll do a hot caramel macchiato. Medium, please." He handed her a twenty-dollar bill. She halted. The drink was $4.

Miguel looked unamused when she parted her lips to object, so she simply took the bill from his hand and thanked him with a smile. "Enjoy, hope to see you back soon."

He nodded. His eyes dropped to her nametag. Eliana, Founder. "Thank you, Eliana. You have a good day, quierda."

She smiled bashfully, "Gracias. You too."

Miguel Galindo was enamored by her. He saw the silhouette of her figure when he closed his eyes to rest at night. He heard the southern twang of her accent as he listened to music on the radio, and he saw the richness of her eyes in the mounds of chocolate chips scattered in Christopher's pancakes.

He made frequent appearances at the shop after that. Catching her friendly grin and gentle hands as she passed his cup to him was one of the few highlights of his day. He cherished it, craved it, and adored it.

He felt lucky when he waltzed into the shop one Saturday morning to find it empty. He thought it was a slow day, but she'd closed it for cleaning. And rather than turning him away, she welcomed him in.

"Your usual?" Eliana questioned. She propped her broom against a stable surface and turned to move behind the counter. "On the house."

"Oh no," Miguel waved. "You're not even open, I see." It was Eliana's turn to force an object into his hands. His usual--hot caramel macchiato; medium with a smiley face drawn on the side of the cup.

"You keep me in business, Mr. Galindo," Eliana replied teasingly with a smile. She was so pretty to him. The woman with a mahogany complexion and soft eyes with an unexplainably gentle aura.

Miguel's eyes dropped to the floor as he chuckled bashfully. He had a tendency to pay more than was due, but he credited it as paying in advance for future visits. "I just like to support where I can." Eliana picked up her broom and hummed, instructing him to get comfortable in the cushioned chairs near the window.

His eyes scanned the marvelous artwork that decorated the dark walls. Murals of people parading in fields of palm trees with drums, colorful skirts, and baskets of fruits, vegetables, and grains. They were all of deep complexion. His eyebrow rose.

"Where are you from?" He found himself asking.

"Costa Chica of Guerrero. Mexico." The area where Black Mexicans were the most populated.

"Tu familia?" Your family?

Eliana shrugged a shoulder and bent over to sweep the dirt unto the dustpan. "En México. Conseguí una beca para estudiar aquí. Se graduó con un título en negocios y decidió quedarse. It's a long story." In Mexico. I got a scholarship to study here. I graduated with my business degree and decided to stay.

Miguel mimicked her actions and gestured to the empty seat across from him. "I've got the time if you do."

They were polar opposites. She was an extrovert, he was introverted. She loved the fall, yet he found it one of the sadder seasons. Tea was her favorite, though she owned a coffee shop, but coffee was his holy grail. He grew up without his father present, but hers was her rock. So many new discoveries that he basked in like warm comforters on a winter day.

“I enjoyed today,” Miguel said as he walked her to her car. Hours had passed, the sun had set, and their day had come to a close. “I’d like to see you again.”

Eliana hummed as she tapped her key fob. Her vehicle chirped excitedly. She reached for the door handle, but Miguel beat her to it. She thanked him gently and slid into the seat. “Well, you’ll know where to find me, Miguel.”

He chuckled and nodded. She wasn’t going to make it easy for him, but. he liked that. Effort was required. He liked a challenge.

“I do,” he replied. “Be ready tomorrow evening. Be safe tonight, Eliana.”

Her brown eyes are twinkled with curiosity. She stretched up and pressed a kiss on his cheek. “Wear a white suit.” And with that, she started her car and sped off into the night, leaving Miguel to bask in the eagerness of seeing her again.

#saturnville #black!reader #black reader #miguel galindo x black!reader #miguel galindo x black reader #miguel galindo imagine #miguel galindo x reader #mayans mc #fx mayans mc #angel reyes #ez reyes

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jacks347 · 1 month

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(Is this stupid enough to be considered a crack fic?? Idk, we're going with it)

To say Hipswitch was surprised to see a woman sitting in his base next to Albus would be an overstatement.

Now, to say he was surprised to see said woman be so...dressed while sipping a cup of tea, that was accurate.

He'd never seen the demon bring back anyone who wore so many layers. Hell, now that he was really thinking about it, he hadn't really seen Albus bring back anyone at all. From the headscarf covering her hair to the skirt that brushed at her ankles and all the fabric and layerage of jewelry in-between, Hipswitch was getting warm just watching her.

The woman turned, smiling politely at him. She was rather pretty, warm brown skin with dark green eyes. Not necessarily someone he'd consider Albus’s type but everyone had their exceptions. "Hello there. You must be Hipswitch." Her voice was quiet and flowed like honey. She reminded Hipswitch of the ladies of the church in town, always speaking softly with inviting smiles. Definitely not Albus’s usual type. What, had he really gotten that bored?

"That I am. And who might you be?" Hipswitch took a seat across from the odd duo, eyes darting between the two in bewilderment. Albus huffed out a laugh, wrapping an arm around the woman's shoulders. "This is Faith. She a, ah, friend of mine." The woman, Faith, rolled her eyes with a small chuckle. "Mm, sure, friend. Let's go with that." She hummed as she took a sip of her tea.

Hipswitch nodded slowly, still going back and forth between them. It was very strange but he couldn't say he didn't appreciate the change. Hell, he welcomed it. Faith was polite, she was far more dressed than he expected, and she seemed very sweet. It almost brought a tear to Hipswitch's eye. "Well it's very nice to meet you. I've gotta say Albus, she's certainly a might better for you than the others from the whore house."

There was an audible beat of silence before it was broken by both a roar of laughter from Albus and a rather impressive spit take from Faith who was now coughing like mad as she tried to regain her composure while Albus was nearly doubled over in hysterics. Hipswitch was left rather confused, not exactly understanding why what he said had caused such a visceral reaction. "Did I say something wrong?"

The statement only made Albus laugh harder as Faith finally recovered, her cheeks flaming red and her face a heavy mask of embarrassment before kicking Albus in the shin. "Stop laughing! I've never been so mortified in all my life." She dropped her face into her hands, shaking her head before pulling herself back up. "How do I put this lightly..." Faith mumbled as Albus’s laughter finally petered off. "Oh Switchy, Faith is a sister paladin." He corrected, making Hipswitch raise an eyebrow in confusion. "A what?"

"A nun." Came a surprised voice, making Hipswitch jump as he turned to find the source of it. "Hey Doc, how long have you been standing there? Almost gave me a heart attack. And how do you know that?" The doctor leaned against the doorframe, staring at Hipswitch with a wide-eyed expression between shock and horror. "When Albus came on I decided to do some research on the medical practices of New Tennessee. Maybe there would be something there to help better treat Albus if I needed to. And well, most of the information was from or about the sister paladins. They're the main form of healthcare, they're essentially priestesses who learn medicine to take of the knight paladins. But they're known to treat anyone who comes to their temples." The realization slowly dawned on Hipswitch, his eyes widening as it did. No wonder she reminded him so much of the women of the church, she was one of them! Oh he fucked up. He fucked up bad.

"So, in case you missed it in that grand fucking speech, you just called a nun a hooker directly to her face." Albus clarified, though he really didn't need to. Faith sighed, the initial embarrassment fading into a kind of indignant rage. "Can I slap him?" Albus snorted a laugh, flashing a sly grin at Hipswitch. "Oo, watch out there Switchy. She's got a mean backhand and I'm almost willing to let her do it. You kind of deserve it." Hipswitch wished he could disappear. "I-I am so sorry ma'am! I would never think of implying you would be that kind of woman, I just assumed-" He spluttered an embarrassed apology, making Albus burst into another round of hysterical laughter as Faith cut him off with a shake of her head. "Don't apologize, I know you didn't mean it. You worked with what you knew, I can't blame you for that. Though I do still want to slap you. And you do kind of deserve it."

Faith got to her feet stiffly, fixing the layers of her outfit and narrowing her eyes at a still laughing Albus. "I think I've seen enough of Maya for one day. I've got to pick Kerano up from school." She leaned down to poke a finger into the warrior's chest. "Don't make me come back out here to check up on you. Had me worried sick for nothing." Albus’s laughter faded as he lightly smacked her hand away. "Gods, yes, I know. I won't, I promise." She nodded with a satisfied huff before turning to the doctor. "I'm glad I could help with your research, you know how to reach me if you have any more questions." "Of course! Thank you again, Sister. It's been very insightful having you here. I should go continue to look over those notes." He turned and headed back into his office as Faith turned to Hipswitch. "And you." Hipswitch gulped, expecting the worst. Maybe that slap Albus had warned him about. "Maybe actually talk to someone before assuming they're some kind of common hooker. I take my faith very seriously and even if I didn't, I'd be far outside of his price range." She smiled warmly before turning on her heel and heading for the door. "See you again boys!"

Albus’s head dropped back onto the couch with a snort. "Outside my price range, she's crazy." He muttered. Hipswitch quietly got up and moved closer to punch Albus in the chest, making the demon wheeze out a breath as his head snapped up to glare at him. "Fucking hell, what was that for?" "For not warning me! I made a damn fool of myself in front of a nun because of you!" "Well, she's not really a nun, she's a priestess." "Regardless! She's a woman of faith and I disrespected her in the worst way possible!" Albus waved his concerns off. "Ah don't sweat it. Give it a week, she'll be laughing over it. It was damn funny." "You're actually the worst, you know that?" "Oh I am well aware Switchy. You're not the first to notice." Hipswitch could only roll his eyes. Why did he have to care about this idiot so much? "Okay but tell me one thing." "Whatcha got Switchy?" "Have you actually slept with her?" "Would you be jealous if I said yes?" "Albus..." Albus chuckled lowly, shaking his head. "Sorry Switchy, this is one time I don't kiss and tell. That's up to you to figure out." He confessed with a shrug. "Out of all the escapades you've rambled on about, this is the one you keep quiet about?" "Faith is different, okay? She...she deserves to not have her story told. So I won't." He defended. Hipswitch sighed in defeat, stepping back. "I'll never understand how your head works." "Good, I don't either. So looks like we'll both be confused."

(...idfk how to end this so this is what you get. Yes I made this entire thing because there is a non-zero chance that Hipswitch would assume Faith is a hooker the first time he met her and that was so damn funny to me)

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zapreportsblog · 8 months

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↳ still in love with you ↲

➘ summary : Let's just say Billy has a deep crush on (Y/N) for years, trying so hard to hide it but only get worse. Both now in 40's, but his feelings for her never fade.

➘ a/n : inspired by this post by @teeramoonlover

➘ billy loomis x reader, scream x reader

The small town of Woodsboro had always been a quiet place, but for (y/n), it held a depth of memories that spanned decades. Now in her 40s, (y/n) had come to appreciate the familiarity of the town, the comfort of the same streets she had walked as a child.

And yet, there was someone she couldn't shake from her mind, no matter how many years had passed.

Billy Loomis.

He had been a part of her life for as long as she could remember, their paths crossing in school, at social events, and in the fabric of their small community. Despite the passage of time, there was a constant presence that lingered between them – a tension, a connection that neither of them dared to address.

Billy was now a respected member of the town, a successful businessman, and a dedicated father. He had aged well, his boyish charm giving way to a more mature allure that still made hearts flutter. But despite his outward confidence, (y/n) had noticed something in his eyes, a glimmer of something more, something hidden.

She often caught him stealing glances when he thought she wasn't looking, a subtle curiosity that was impossible to ignore. She had noticed the way he stumbled over his words when they spoke, his eyes lingering a moment longer than they should have. It was as if his feelings were dancing on the edges of his words, just out of reach.

One afternoon, as they both attended a community event, their paths crossed once again. The sun cast a warm glow over the gathering, and (y/n) couldn't help but smile as she saw Billy in conversation with his daughter, sharing a laugh that reached his eyes.

"Hey there," a voice greeted her, pulling her from her thoughts.

Turning, (y/n) met Billy's gaze, his smile genuine as he approached her. "Hey, Billy. Enjoying the festivities?"

He nodded, his expression warm. "Yeah, it's nice to see everyone come together like this."

They fell into easy conversation, talking about everything from town happenings to childhood memories. Yet underneath the surface, there was a tension that neither of them acknowledged. It was as if the unspoken words lingered in the air between them, waiting for someone to give them voice.

As the afternoon turned to evening, the event began to wind down. People began to disperse, leaving (y/n) and Billy standing near each other, caught in a moment of quiet.

"Listen, (y/n)," Billy started, his tone tentative. "There's something I've been meaning to say."

Her heart skipped a beat, anticipation mingling with a flicker of hope. "What is it, Billy?"

He sighed, his gaze dropping momentarily before he looked back at her. "I've known you for so long, and I've... well, I've had feelings for you that I've never really been able to shake."

His words hung in the air, and (y/n)'s heart raced as she processed the confession. It was as if time had suspended around them, the weight of their unspoken feelings finally coming to light.

Billy looked at her with a mixture of vulnerability and longing. "I know it's probably too late, but I had to tell you. I've cared about you for years, (y/n), and I've never been able to move on from that."

Tears welled in her eyes as she met his gaze, the intensity of his emotions mirroring her own. "Billy, you're not alone in feeling that way."

For a moment, they stood in a fragile bubble of honesty and connection. The years of unspoken longing, the missed opportunities, all culminated in this moment – a moment that held the potential to change everything.

As they looked at each other, the weight of their shared feelings began to lift, replaced by a sense of hope and possibility. In their 40s, with the weight of time and experience behind them, they stood on the precipice of something new, something that had been waiting to be acknowledged for far too long.

A few months had passed since the unspoken feelings between Billy and (y/n) had finally been brought to light. They had embarked on a journey together, navigating the complexities of their relationship, and had eventually moved in together.

One quiet evening, as the sun dipped below the horizon, a knock echoed through the house. (y/n) exchanged a curious glance with Billy before they both made their way to the front door. As they swung it open, their surprise was evident when they saw a teenager standing on their doorstep.

The girl's eyes widened, her gaze shifting between Billy and (y/n). "Um, hi. Are you Billy Loomis?"

Billy's brows furrowed in confusion as he nodded slowly. "Yes, I am. Can I help you?"

The girl took a deep breath, her expression a mix of nervousness and determination. "My name is Samantha Carpenter. I'm 15. I recently found out… I found out that you're my dad."

Shock rippled through the air, the revelation hanging heavy between them. Billy's gaze locked onto the teenager before him, his mind racing to process her words. (y/n) stood beside him, her own surprise mirrored in her eyes.

Samantha shifted uncomfortably, her gaze dropping to the ground. "I... I know this is probably a lot to take in. I didn't know until recently, and I didn't mean to show up like this, but I just needed to see you."

Billy's voice was a mix of disbelief and uncertainty. "You're my daughter?"

Samantha nodded, her eyes brimming with a mix of hope and trepidation. "Yeah, my mom told me about you. She… she passed away not too long ago. And I found some letters from you."

A heavy silence settled over the doorstep, the weight of the moment stretching between them. (y/n) exchanged a glance with Billy, her heart aching for the girl before them.

"You should come in," (y/n) said gently, breaking the silence. "This is a lot to process."

Samantha nodded, her gratitude evident as she stepped into the house. As they settled in the living room, Billy took a seat beside Samantha, his gaze fixed on her.

"I never knew," he admitted softly. "I never knew I had a daughter."

Samantha's shoulders slumped, her voice carrying a mix of sadness and understanding. "I know. My mom never wanted to burden you. But after she passed away, I wanted to know more about you."

(y/n) sat down as well, her expression empathetic. "We're here for you, Samantha. You're not alone in this."

As the night unfolded, Billy and (y/n) listened to Samantha's story, learning about her life, her experiences, and her longing to know her father. Despite the shock and uncertainty, they welcomed her into their home with open hearts.

Over time, they would navigate the complexities of this newfound relationship. Billy's role as a father was uncharted territory, and Samantha's presence would reshape their lives in ways they hadn't anticipated. But they faced this journey together, a united front against the challenges that lay ahead.

As the stars twinkled in the night sky, the house was filled with the warmth of connection and the promise of a future that held hope, healing, and the possibility of a family that had been brought together by fate's unexpected twists.

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bibbityboppitybillyharvgrove · 1 year

Text

Stream Crasher- E.Munson

Summary: Eddie Munson is a well known streamer who keeps his private life out of the public eye. His fans get a little glimpse of his life with his wife when she crashes his stream on more than one occasion.

Pairings: Modern!Eddie x Wife!Reader

Warnings: Female Reader, mentions of food, Eddie is a mechanic and is a gamer in his free time, (Let me know if I missed any)

My full Masterlist

Author's Note: It's been awhile, I've been in a bit of a slump lately but I'm trying my hardest to get out of it. I'm working on a few things right now so keep an eye out.

Word Count: 1.1K

My asks are open for questions, suggestions and feedback

Feedback is welcomed and encouraged!

Enjoy!

gif not mine

Eddie Munson was a name well known across the gaming community. He was right up there along with Pewdiepie, Jacksepticeye and Markiplier. It took him years to get where he was and he wasn’t even expecting it, he was a mechanic who played video games on the internet for fun. It was his hobby and he never seemed to view it as a job, he always had fun with whatever game he was playing.

His fans had known that he was in a serious relationship, he and his girl lived together, had been together since high school and had been best friends their whole lives. He never revealed much about her, just that she was funny, gorgeous and a high school English teacher.

One night, Eddie had been streaming, he was replaying The Last of Us before the show came out, when he heard a gentle knock on his game room door. “That you, sweetheart?” He called back to the knock. The door creaked open, light from the hallway streaming through.

“Yeah, I brought you some snacks and I refilled your water,” She replied from the doorway. Making her way to her seated boyfriend, who had just paused the game and turned his chair so he could face her, she handed him the plate that held some cut fruit on it and his water bottle, now filled with ice water. She did this every time he streamed for over two hours, knowing he gets grumpy when he doesn’t eat.

“Thank you, baby. You wanna watch for a bit?” He asked her.

“I wish I could but I have to grade some papers,” She pouted at him. He pulled her down so she was straddling his lap and pulled her in for a sweet kiss, completely forgetting about the stream he had going on.

“When you want to take a break, you know where to find me. I love you.”

“I love you, more Eds.” With that she planted a kiss on his cheek, got up from his lap and exited the room, shutting the door gently behind her. He turned back to the stream and continued about his way as if nothing ever happened. His eyes occasionally drifted over to the chat to answer questions, which were now all about his girl.

One comment stood out among the rest, “'That was my English teacher'. Well, I’m glad you have my girl for an English teacher. Please respect her privacy though. I don’t want to throw her into this world of social media and content creation,” He lectured his chat. He didn’t want her thrown into the toxic world that social media was, she wasn’t big on social media to begin with. She had Twitter, Tumblr, TikTok and Instagram, all of which she never posted much, just enjoying the content others put out. In one of the many cutscenes, he turned most of his attention to the chat, snacking on the peeled orange sitting on the plate in front of him.

“For those of you asking, my girl and I have known each other our whole lives, we were best friends for years until I had the balls to finally ask her out our freshman year. I was convinced she had a massive crush on our friend Steve but boy was I wrong. We’ve been living together for 5 years. Once we graduated high school we got an apartment with the money we made at the bars we worked at. Once she graduated from college, we moved into our house. She's working on her masters right now, on top of working at the high school in our town.”

“One of you just asked if we’re engaged. We aren’t, we actually just got married last month. She hasn’t changed her last name yet, she plans on that once the school year is over so it doesn’t confuse her current students. Married life is great, not much has changed, it definitely feels great to finally call her my wife,” Eddie chuckled. He heard the door creak open again, turning around to see his wife in the doorway with a wide smile on her face. “Were you eavesdropping, sweetheart?” He teased her.

“Is it eavesdropping if you’re technically talking to yourself?” She teased back.

“I-I don’t have anything. What can I do for you, beautiful?”

“Thought I’d take you up on that offer of watching before. I can’t read another paper. Like I swear I drill them about grammar and yet they are still using commas in places they don’t belong, the run on sentences, not taking my suggestions that I left on their rough drafts and don’t even get me started on using ‘your’ in a formal research paper,” She vented.

“I’m sorry, baby, come sit. Teenagers just don’t listen,” Eddie sympathized.

“Oh I’m aware. You never did, Mr. I don’t need help to pass O'Donnell's class. Mr. I can pass history without studying even though I never paid attention,” She teased him.

“You little snake! I ended up getting help didn’t I? My personal teacher helped me pass.”

“I sure did. Now get on with your stream. I wanna watch you kill some clickers.”

He had turned back to his monitors, where the game was paused, pulling his older gaming chair over so she could sit. As he played, she answered some of the questions coming through on the stream. She was out of the camera’s view, Eddie making it a habit to turn his camera further away from his right side and more to the left. A few names she recognized but she lit up when she saw some more familiar names to both her and Eddie.

“Honey, look! The kids and Steve are watching! Hi guys!” She squealed in delight. She loved seeing that their friends were supportive and frequently joined in on Eddie’s live streams. “For those asking, no, Eddie and I don’t have kids. The kids are our friends that are a few years younger than us. I used to babysit them when they were younger, Eddie played Dungeons and Dragons with them in high school, had a whole club and everything.”

“No need to out me as a freak there, baby,” Eddie joked, his eyes finding their way to his wife’s face, seeing nothing but love and joy in her eyes.

“What did I tell you about calling yourself a freak? You were just nerdy with really long hair, that’s all. Still are really nerdy with long hair but I married you, didn’t I?”

“You did indeed. And I’m very happy you did.”

“I’m very happy I did, too.”

#eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x female!reader #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #modern!eddie munson #mechanic!eddie munson #stranger things #stranger things 4

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randonauticrap · 2 months

Text

Silent Letters to My Beloved

Pairing ~ Rio Ortiz x GN Reader

Word Count ~ 1.5k

Author's Note ~ This fic is my gift for the lovely @eli-chika in @ikemenlibrary's "My Ikemen Valentine" Gift Exchange! I truly loved being able to write this fic for you. It's been awhile since I've written for Ikemen, and even longer since I've written for Rio, but I hope I did him justice for you and I hope you enjoy! <3

(Ps. I also totally made up the dates because I have zero clue when ikepri is meant to take place lol)

Darling Love, 11-08-32

My sweetest dear one,

My heart,

When you rescued me, my world stood still. Who I was before the moment your hands touched mine was of no consequence anymore. I was yours, heart, body, and soul. Through the years, you taught me how to open up again; how to learn and take in the beauty of the world again. I learned how to love from you. The man who feared losing everything came to realize that he had never even known of "everything" until he knew you.

I don't know why I'm confessing here, in this letter you will never read. I must seem quite foolish to you. Here you are, a bright and shining light, surrounded by those who shine almost as brightly as you do. The princes of Rhodolite are noble and kind - well, most of them - and you even outshine them at the center of it all. I can't even hope to hold a candle's worth of light to the beauty you radiate. Perhaps my purpose in this life is to stand behind you, just out of sight, and make sure you never suffer a single inconvenience. Honestly, it doesn't sound like too terrible of a fate: getting to stand close to you wherever you are, basking in the loveliness that is you.

Sometimes I just wish…

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

My sweet, 11-17-32

I see the way they admire you, the curiosity and interest in their eyes. It shouldn't bother me. I should be able to keep myself contained as your butler and your… friend. But the way you smile back at them is enough to cast a shadow on even my brightest of days, and will tie my heart in uncomfortable, messy knots without any effort. I am not a man worthy of your affection, I know this. However, I can’t seem to force these feelings away. I saw Prince Leon taking your hand today, and leading you to the training grounds. He looked so happy to have your hand in his; I can’t imagine anyone who wouldn’t find otherworldly joy in it, so at least he responded appropriately. The pleased blush that spread across your face when his hand closed around yours pained me with the heartbreaking guilt of a man who loves you, but also desperately wants you to be happy - whether he is the one to make you so or not.

This jealousy is proof I can never deserve you. You are better off with a man like Prince Leon at your side. I will stand behind you to make sure you stay smiling throughout your journey. I swear it, to you and to myself, I will only cry where you cannot see it. You will never know my heartbreak. You deserve better than that.

~ Rio

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

My friend, 12-10-32

You look so beautiful in the red outfit Prince Leon gifted you. It falls so beautifully around your frame and compliments you well. You will look so regal by his side that no one will question your place there! I know you worry; I see it in your eyes and the way a near-permanent crease sits between your lovely eyes, but you don’t need to. Just carry yourself the way you do in town, and in the bookstore. You’re so confident and sure of yourself there; at home. I miss when you seemed at home, when you were comfortable… when we were-

“Rio!”

The call from the door, along with hurried knocks had him jumping from his seat like he’d been stung and running to open it for them. “MC!” he yelped, his journal so visible and open on the table behind him filling him with so much momentary panic that he didn’t realize they were crying at first. But at the first sniffle, his attention snapped to their face where tears were falling in crystal tandem onto their lovely clothes. “MC, what’s wrong? Come in, sit down, I’ll get you a cloth! Was it Prince Leon? I don’t care if he’s a prince of Rhodolite or not, I’ll have his head if he hurt you-!”

“Rio!” they cried louder and he silenced, looking helplessly at them. They sniffled again. His heart clenched at the sound - the worst sound in the world, he thought, the sound of their pain. “I embarrassed myself.” sniff “The whole ballroom turned to judge me. They’re still talking about me, I’m certain.” sniff “I can’t show my face in that room again!”

“No matter what happened, if they judged you, they’re the ones who should be ashamed!” Rio flamed, his hands coming up to frame their shaking shoulders. “Where is prince Leon? Did he not follow you?” he asked, despite himself.

“I don’t want prince Leon.” they huffed. “He’s nice, and sweet, but-” sniff “He isn’t you, and I want you.” Rio’s heart stuttered into a wild rhythm at the possible implication of their words, but he shoved his hope to the pit of his stomach where it belonged; this wasn’t about him, it was about them. And he would be anything they needed him to be. So he put on his best face and nodded, pulling them into his embrace where they easily fell and curled around him. ‘It feels like coming home.’ he thought as he backed them both up enough to gently shut the door behind them and wrap his arm back around them, his hand finding their soft locks and stroking them tenderly. They wetted the shoulder of his undershirt with their tears, but he didn’t care. What was a shirt in comparison to them? The shirt was made better by having touched them, if anything.

“Want to sit down?” he whispered into their hair and they nodded after several seconds more of sniffling, so he maneuvered them towards the short couch next to the fireplace in his room and made to ease them down into the seat gently, but they tugged on his arm, pulling him down with them. He let out a gasp of surprise as they settled sideways on to the couch and pulled him over top of them.

“Please, Rio. Just- just hold me.” they whispered into his neck as he lowered himself gingerly down on top of them, hovering just above them to keep from possibly hurting them. However, they wrapped their arms firmly around his back and drew him close, rendering his efforts futile as he was forced to relax against them. He felt them sigh and relax into him, their nails beginning to scratch up and down his back, sending electric shivers through his entire body.

“Are you sure I’m not going to hurt you?! I’d never forgive myself if-”

“Rio, it’s fine.” they murmured, stopping him short. Their voice was subdued now, a comfortable haze enveloping them in warmth, and Rio let out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding, letting himself nuzzle into their neck. “I love having you close.” they whispered softly. “You feel like home.”

His breath caught again, this time full of the words he was too much of a coward to say, so he propped up on his elbow instead to look down at them, hoping the love in his eyes was enough to get the message across. Something must have reached them, thankfully, because they met his eyes with the same ardor echoed back to him and he swore his heart stopped beating. “You do too.” he finally croaked out, shocked that any words could form on his lips at all. They brought their hand up to his cheek, letting their fingers brush against his soft skin, the tiny blond hairs there tickling their fingertips as they followed the path of his cheekbone back to his ear and then to his fine blond locks. Their eyes followed the path of their fingers until they were out of sight, lost in his hair, then traveled back to lock with his.

“Rio,” they muttered breathlessly.

“Y-yes?” he said, hardly trusting his own voice to work the way it should.

“Kiss me.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

My Dearest Fiance, 5-25-33

You grow more exquisite as each day passes, and I can’t believe I get to be the man to stand by your side. My proposal was so swift after we became lovers, I worried you wouldn’t say yes. But I couldn’t bear to wait any longer, and my heart is far too full knowing you feel the same! I know you enjoyed your time at the palace, but I’m so glad we’re back at the bookstore, home. Although, I know for certain that wherever you go would be home enough for me. If one day you decide to travel across the sea, I’ll be there beside you, ready to take on the world as your husband. With you, my love, I can take on anything. Thank you for loving me, I will never believe I deserve it, no matter the number of times you tell me. And I cannot wait to fill this journal with our adventures together. No more heartbreak, only love. Forever love.

~ Your loving fiance, Rio

#ikemen prince #ikepri #rio ortiz #ikepri rio #ikemen prince rio #ikepri rio ortiz #ikemen prince rio ortiz #rio ortiz x reader #rio ortiz x gn reader #gn reader ikepri #ikepri gn reader #ikemen series #my ikemen valentine gift exchange

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moorishflower · 4 months

Note

Oooo, original work! How exciting! Your last piece was fantastic!

:DDD Thank you! I'm having a lot of fun with it so far! It is about a centaur and a werewolf falling in love in a small fantasy town! Here's a bit from it (so far it is 26k and uhhh not even halfway through what I've got planned so far lol)

"I have to be on the road before it snows," Rain said. "Do you think you can fashion at least one shoe tomorrow? If I get that hoof trimmed?"

Bad idea just one shoe, it wrote in response. It then made several gestures at him, which didn't seem to mean anything in particular except that they enhanced the severity of what it wrote next, which was, Will hurt yourself. Trip. Fall.

Rain had taken plenty of tumbles as a foal, but tripping at a gallop was every taur's worst nightmare. It was possible to come back from a broken leg if the taur in question was lucky enough to have a herd to care for it, but...on his own? He'd be as good as dead.

Rain shuddered. "You've made your point," he said wryly, and the smith grinned at him, tongue draped out of the side of its mouth. "Fine, then. Four silver blanks for four shoes. I'll speak to your friend tomorrow, and...return in the evening?"

After sundown, the smith wrote. Then it set its slate aside and, coming to stand directly in front of Rain, it stuck out its chalk-dusted hand. Rain pricked his ears forward, studying it. All of the smith's touches so far had been gentle, but impersonal, and limited to Rain's hooves. He hadn't expected a handshake -- such a mannish gesture! How many beings refused? How many beings even knew the smith was here, this well-kept secret of the northeast? He likely never would have known if he hadn't misunderstood Agosto's instructions.

Slowly, Rain reached out and took the offered hand.

It was massive, and almost engulfed his own, his pale fist disappearing in a grip of leather and fur. The smith's fingers were thick, and the pads on its palm and fingertips were rough like calluses, but had a softer, more suede quality than mannish skin. It was very warm, warmer, even, than its breath had been because it was so encompassing, and it wasn't actually all that unpleasant. He could feel the strength in each finger, yet they were as delicate with his hand as a dragonfly lighting on a pond; the hand that held his could crush his whole wrist in one go, but was more gentle than a kiss.

A kiss?

It was by some narrow miracle that it was so cold outside, and that Rain could blame his suddenly-reddening cheeks on the weather as they shook. His hand tingled slightly as he took it back. He imagined he could still feel the brush of the smith's fur, and the catch of its calluses, and quite suddenly he felt as though he could see a dozen new things about the smith, things that he had noticed before but hadn't thought much of, and which were now brought into new light: the salt and pepper around its muzzle was distinguished, rather than simply a mark of age, and the scars on its forearms were an indication of strength and resilience; its teeth were no less frightening, but now they were also white and well-kept, and its fur, despite the missing patches over the scars, was brushed and free of debris. It even smelled pleasant, with the same profound, animal muskiness that Rain enjoyed in his perfumes, and surrounded as they were by pine trees, he could almost imagine that the smith was wearing his scent.

Now that was an intriguing thought. More than he could have possibly anticipated.

"My name is Rain," he said. It came blurting out of him, for lack of anything better to say, but it needed saying all the same because if they were to do business, the smith would need to write him a bill of sale. "Scent-of-Rain, for your records. Do you need my mercantile license as proof?"

#my fic #ask response

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elryuse · 7 months

Text

Either Way (Wonyoung)

In a quiet town nestled between rolling hills, there lived a girl named Wonyoung. She was known for her beauty and charm, but she carried a secret burden in her heart—a burden named Y/n.

Y/n had been Wonyoung's best friend since childhood. They had shared everything, from secrets to dreams. As they grew older, Y/n's feelings for Wonyoung deepened into something more profound. He had fallen deeply in love with her, but he had never found the courage to confess.

One summer evening, as they sat on the porch, watching the fireflies dance in the twilight, Y/n finally decided it was time to tell Wonyoung the truth. He took a deep breath and turned to her.

"Wonyoung," he began, "there's something I need to tell you."

She looked at him, her eyes filled with curiosity. "What is it, Y/n?"

With a mixture of nervousness and hope, he confessed his love for her, the words pouring out like a river that had been dammed for too long. Wonyoung, taken aback, thanked him for his honesty but gently explained that she saw him as a dear friend, not a romantic interest.

Y/n's heart sank, and he forced a smile, masking his disappointment. "I understand, Wonyoung. I value our friendship too much to let this ruin it."

Over time, Y/n tried to move on, to accept that Wonyoung could never be more than a friend. He dated other girls, went to college, and built a life of his own. But his heart remained tethered to Wonyoung, an invisible thread that refused to break.

Wonyoung, on the other hand, dated different guys, but none of them made her heart race the way Y/n did. She couldn't deny that she missed his presence, his unwavering support, and the bond they had shared for so long. She began to realize the depth of her own feelings for Y/n, but by then, he had moved on.

Years passed, and Wonyoung found herself thinking more and more about the one that got away, the love she had unknowingly rejected. She couldn't shake the feeling that she had made a mistake, that Y/n had been the one who truly understood her.

One day, Wonyoung gathered the courage to visit Jack. She found him in a small coffee shop, his eyes filled with a distant sadness. As they talked, old memories resurfaced, and she realized how much she had missed him.

"Y/n," she said softly, "I've been thinking a lot about us, about what we had. I think I made a mistake back then."

Y/n looked at her, his eyes reflecting a mixture of surprise and hope. "What are you saying, Wonyoung?"

Tears welled up in her eyes as she confessed her love for him, the love she had discovered too late. She hoped for a second chance, for a future together.

But life, as it often does, had its own plans. Y/n smiled sadly, explaining that he had moved on, that he was engaged to be married. He wished Wonyoung well, his heart heavy with the regret of what might have been.

Wonyoung left the coffee shop that day with tears in her eyes, carrying the weight of her regret. She had rejected the love of her life, and now, either way, she would carry the consequences of her decision—a bittersweet lesson in the unpredictable nature of love and timing.

"Either Way"

#kpop #kpop x reader #kpop x y/n #x male reader #beautiful #ive wonyoung #wonyoung #ive starship #angst

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hotvintagepoll · 9 days

Text

Propaganda

Chelo Alonso (Sign of Rome Morgan the Pirate La ragazza sotto il lenzuolo)— She was an international star, and she was so hot she had to turn down marrying a prince, and became so famous for being hot that Fidel Castro sent Che Guevara to beg her to go back to Cuba. She was also called the Cuban H-Bomb. She makes me light-headed.

This is round 4 of the tournament. All other polls in this bracket can be found here. Please reblog with further support of your beloved hot sexy vintage woman.

[additional propaganda submitted under the cut.]

Chelo Alonso:

"forgive me sending in more pictures of her but i CANNOT be normal about here asdhgkljhahgjkhgkajshgajghshgjl"

Ingrid Bergman:

I'm a gay man but even I understand her appeal. I'll watch any movie she shows up in. Gorgeous woman.

Just try and watch her movies without sighing wistfully, then get back to me!

ion words so I'll stop at that.

One of the most incredible actors I've ever seen on film. Her facial expressions are so intricate and poignant that I cannot look away. I'm either ace or straight, but damn she made me question that.

SEVEN TIME OSCAR NOMINEE QUEEN. Girl also PULLED, having affairs with famously hot men Gary Cooper and Gregory Peck IN ADDITION to her three marriages...sexy

She has a very natural beauty to her, and she's from Sweden!

Where do I even start. There's a neighborly quality to this beautiful, talented actress that makes her hotness one of a kind and her looks impossible to forget

She's hot, don't get me wrong, but I've always found her very approachable, like she could easily be a member of my friend group

#ingrid bergman #chelo alonso #hotvintagepoll #fuck that old woman #ladies 4

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felice-jaganshi · 20 days

Text

My Fallen Apple

Chapter 12

The two of you spend months planning, but something important is missing… Zariah, your best friend in heaven, won't answer her phone. Lucifer can see how sad and uncertain you look, and confronts you.

“Hey, what's gotten my Little Apple down?” He wraps an arm around your waist.

“It's… My best friend. Before I moved down here, I told her about you, and she said if we ever got married, she'd take the trip to hell to be my maid of honor without hesitation. But, she hasn't answered my texts since last extermination.”

“Oh geez… You don't think she was one of the exorcists do you?” He felt guilty, her friend may have been killed by his people.

“No way! She's always been a pacifist, even when we were alive.” Which made this even more distressing, why would she suddenly go silent?

“Well, what's her name? I still got a few contacts in heaven, maybe I could set you up a meeting to talk things out?” He would do anything for her. He already knew he'd have to deal with heaven soon anyways. No matter how terrifying, he wasn't pushing it onto Charlie anymore. He was the king, damn it!

“Her name's Zariah. She has orange-” His eyes go wide and he cuts you off.

“Oh Fuck! Her?! She's been staying at the hotel!”

“What?! What the fuck, why hasn't she called me then?!” You're both excited and worried about the news. You thought for sure she would have contacted you right away!

“She uh… she kind of sold her soul to another demon. She's on his leash, so it's likely she can't go anywhere without his permission.” He answered, looking away, he didn't like seeing her so upset. Even though it wasn't targeted to him, it still felt bad.

You groan in frustration, “Oh my god! That's fucking great .” You take a breath to calm down. “Okay, let's go. I wanna see her now .” Your tone is firm. You're trying to control your anger. You're not mad at Lucifer, you're mad at whoever the fuck had your bestie on a leash .

He nods mutely, and opens a portal, taking both of you to the hotel. You immediately storm through and Charlie looks confused, “Becca? Dad? Is everything okay?”

“Sweetheart, where's Zariah? Turns out she and Becca were friends in heaven.”

“Oh, she and Alastor are out in cannibal town getting tea with Rosie. They should be back in a bit.”

You look at Charlie, “Is that the one who has her soul? What kind of demon is he? You said cannibal town?!” You had a sinking feeling…

“Oh, he's known as the radio demon. And it's actually really nice over there if you don't eat anything you're offered.” She sounded nervous.

“Fucking… God damn it!” You look back through your texts with her and read them out. “ 'Found a book on a radio host serial killer, best thing I've read in months, wish I could meet him.' That's her last text to me before going silent. So I'm guessing she fucking found him!” You're so mad at Zariah! You expected her to be smarter than trying to date an actual serial killer! “When she gets back here I'm shaking her so hard! ” You never hit her, but she could be so…

Lucifer put a comforting arm around your shoulders, “Whoa there, Apple Tart, calm down…”

_______

The two eventually did return to the hotel, and as soon as your eyes met, she squeaked and ran to you.

“Becca!!” You let her hug you and can't help but hug back.

“Zariah! You've been here this whole time and didn't call me?! I've missed you!!” Her purrs are comforting, to the point you almost forget why you were mad.

“My phone broke when I fell, and you know I never memorized anyone's numbers.”

Radio static fills your ears, and you look to see a red clothed demon, who speaks with a radio filter.

“Ah, an old friend of yours darling? You must introduce me.” His smile was creepy in that it didn't reach his eyes.

“Oh, yeah!” She pulls back from your hug. “Alastor, this is Becca, my bestie beyond life and death! We used to call each other soulmates when we were alive. I still think we are, honestly! Becca, this is Alastor, the radio demon! Remember when I texted you about my research?! I found him!” She's practically bouncing on her heels in excitement.

“I can see that.” Your tone is filled with irritation, “I heard you sold your soul to him.” You suddenly grab her by the shoulders and gently, yet vigorously, shake her. “What is wrong with you?! Of course serial killers are charming, it's how they catch their prey! Make. Better. Decisions! ” Zariah goes along with the shaking, not putting up any resistance to it.

“Whoa, Becca, calm down! I'm fine! Al would never hurt-”

“No! Do not!” You stop shaking her. “I'm saying this because I love you. You need to get out of this ‘deal’ thing and get back to heaven where you're safe.”

You can hear Alastor growling, and it's terrifying.

“Becca, no! I'm not leaving him anymore than you'd leave Lucifer! He's never going to hurt me, it's part of the deal I made, why does everyone think I'm an idiot?! I may not be the smartest, but I'm not dumb!”

Alastor suddenly wrapped an arm around Zariah and pulled her to his chest.

“Miss Becca, I believe we've gotten off on the wrong foot. I only kill sinners. Even in life, that was true. So please, do calm down. I would never harm my darling. She is more precious to me than you realize.” His words sounded so genuine.

“Fine, but I'm keeping an eye on you. You hurt her, and I'm coming for your head!” You level a solid glare at him, and he nods.

“Agreed, if I fail my dearest, you have every right to seek restitution on her behalf.”

“Oookay, well this was exciting!” Charlie jumped in, “But now let's focus back in on some positives!” She wanted to stop any potential fights before they broke out.

“Right, Z, there was a reason I was looking for you.” You say, “Remember when you promised to be my maid of honor if I got married? Well, it's happening!” You finally drop the bomb, and Zariah squeals in delight and hugs you tight!

“Oh my god, yes!! He actually proposed?! I'm so happy for you!”

Lucifer smiled fondly as he watched the two of you, it was sweet. And he was glad to finally have someone who might be able to convince Zariah to get out of her deal with the demon. Or at least to leverage her power over Alastor and get him to stop being such an ass to him all the time!

#hazbin hotel #lucifer magne #lucifer x reader #lucifer morningstar #alastor's pet #alastor x oc #ace alastor #alastor x reader #aroace alastor #fallen apple #fallen angel

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crvptidgf · 11 days

Text

A Night To Remember

Gilbert Blythe x Reader

➸ summary: as the daughter of a renowned lawyer in Avonlea, you are invited to this season's debutante ball. little do you know, you're about to meet the man who will steal your heart

➸ warnings/notes: probably some historical inaccuracy, stereotypes of the role of men and women (it’s the 19th century, c’mon), strays from canon, all characters are over the age of 18

A/N: can you tell i've been watching bridgerton?

word count: 1.9k

————————

YOU WERE NEVER one for rumors. Ever since you left school and were given the opportunity to study at a university you had decided to stay far away from that type of lifestyle. You saw how gossip ruined many girls and destroyed several friendships - and you refused to fall into that trap.

Not to mention the fact that your family was well respected by the ton, and their youngest eligible daughter parading around with false stories would not bode well.

So, when whispers of a supposed ‘debutante ball’ were circling around the girl's dormitories, you paid them no mind. Certain families had a guarantee to be invited to one of these events, while others had to work their own way in. If there was to be a ball you would've already known by now.

Arriving back to your chambers, you were happy to see that your roommate was still in her classes. She was a nice girl, but too chatty for your liking.

You were so occupied by your thoughts that you almost missed the pristine envelope that sat at the foot of your bed, the purple wax shining in the sunlight. It was your father's emblem. Either somebody died or you were about to get some amazing news. Grabbing your letter opener, you sat on the soft sheets as you analyzed the contents of the page. It read:

To my dearest,

As you may now know, this season's Debutante Ball is to be set in the Halloway Estate come dawn tomorrow night. Your father and I decided it best to wait as we know you wish to complete your studies, but as the time is nearing quite quickly we had no other choice but to exempt you from classes for the time being. The carriage will await you at noon.

With warmest regards, your loving mama.

Groaning, you crumpled the paper in your hands and threw it onto your pillow. You were never interested in the social aspect of high society. Important dinners, town fairs, and theatre visits were a common occurrence in your childhood. All of which greatly impeded your learning, and you hated it.

Ultimately you knew you had no choice. Deciding to make the best of it, you began to collect your things. There was never a point in arguing with your parents, especially since they had already sent someone to come get you.

You just hoped the ball would pass quickly.

YOUR PREVIOUS WISHFUL thinking unfortunately did not work out. After being pampered for what felt like hours, and revised on proper etiquette and rules, you already wanted to go back home.

The frilly dress you wore was beautiful, but uncomfortable. Your maids made sure no lace was loose and that all the fine whale bone in your corset was tucked perfectly against your torso. It was a physical embodiment of your imprisonment in this little social charade your parents wanted you to play.

Introductions went by as quickly as they came, and your parents accompanied you side by side as you trailed down the grand staircase.

While every other girl was back on campus studying for exams, you were here frollocking about. How would dancing and mingling help your education? You pushed back a sigh and twisted the edge of the ring on your finger. It was a purity ring that was handed down to you by your mother, something she had held in her family for generations.

“Now, now, dearest,” said your mama as she interlinked her arm with yours. “No need to fret. You remember your dancing lessons?”

You simply nodded. With your curls bouncing around and your perfect dress feathering across the floor you felt like a porcelain doll. It was like you had been dressed up solely for the purpose of being looked at. Which, in fairness, was quite the case.

Throughout the night various men came to ask for permission to dance. Some were accepted, and some declined, much to your pleasure.

Eventually your father ventured off somewhere to talk business and your mother was caught up in conversation with an old friend. It was the perfect opportunity to sneak out for some fresh air. Picking up the hem of your dress you jogged as quick as your heeled sandals would let you.

Cold air hit your face as you were met with the evening sky. You leaned against the marble rail of the balcony, reveling in how nice the breeze felt. It was getting much too stuffy inside. You finally let out the sigh you had been holding in all night.

“The stars are beautiful tonight don’t you think?” said a voice.

Slightly jumping, you turned around to see who it was. There in the pale moonlight stood the most handsome man you had ever seen. Many gentlemen greeted you tonight, but this one had something different about him. Perhaps it was the gentle way he carried himself, his hands tucked behind his back politely - or maybe it was his brown orbs that seemed to pull you in with every second that passed.

“My apologies. I wasn’t aware that anyone was here,” you replied, moving away from the balcony to return inside.

As much as you would’ve wanted to continue the conversation with the attractive man, an unchaperoned lady at night was a guaranteed scandal.

“No need. I was only here for a breath of fresh air.”

He looked at the glass door, eyeing the people in the ballroom. “I could leave if you wish,” he offered.

Shaking your head you continued to make your way back to your parents. Yet when you looked back at him, something in you begged you to stay. Maybe it was just the way your heart soared at the sound of his smooth voice.

You moved away from the door.

“What brings you out here?” you asked as you twiddled with your ring again. It was a nervous habit that you had developed while at school and your mother absolutely hated it.

The man, however, noticed and made a mental note of it in his head. He found it rather cute.

“This sort of thing isn’t really my forté,” the man confessed.

A smile found its way onto your face. The first one you’ve had all night. “Well, Mr…” you paused, looking at him.

“Blythe. Gilbert Blythe.”

“Well, Mr. Gilbert Blythe. As it so happens, it isn’t mine either.”

You both floated back to the edge of the terrace. It overlooked a huge garden that spanned a few acres. While it was gorgeous, it all felt too grand. A small patch of grass with some flowers was infinitely more charming than this overgrown imitation of a forest.

“And what is your forté, Miss -“

“Y/N,” you replied quickly.

Gilbert repeated the name, as if he was getting a feel for it on his tongue. It was quite the lovely name.

The black suit he wore fit him perfectly. His straight-set shoulders were donned with a fine material, his tie sitting delicately against his chest. Whoever he was, he definitely had money. Even the way he styled his hair seemed so prim and proper.

“I’m more of an academic,” you admitted. Most men didn’t like hearing of their bachelorette’s life goals. Many actually preferred that they stayed out of school.

Gilbert hummed, his gaze settling up at the heavens. “We have quite a lot in common then, Miss Y/N.”

You would’ve expected the interaction to be awkward. Instead, you found yourself enjoying the comfortable silence that fell between the two of you. Soon you would have to return to the ball. For now you decided to make the most of it before you had to vacate.

“And what is it that you do, Mr. Blythe?”

Gilbert smiled, his eyes squinting. How he wasn’t already spoken for, you had no idea. “Please, just Gilbert. Mr. Blythe ages me.”

“I’m a doctor,” he finished after a moment.

A doctor. Usually medical practitioners were old and reserved. Well, at least the ones you had been to. You never thought they could be so… easy on the eyes.

You hummed in response. “Are you in university, just Gilbert?”

Another smile. Dimples graced his cheeks perfectly and if you didn’t know any better you would’ve reached over to smooth them out. “I am. And you?”

The wind picked up slightly, ruffling your hair. “I am. I’m studying law - I hope to take over my father’s business one day.”

You knew you were sharing too much. It was just too easy with Gilbert, he had a certain relaxing aura about him. Your parents would love him too. The thought made you giddy.

With his eyebrows raised, he turned to you. “A lawyer, huh?”

Nodding, you let your eyes meet his. In the quiet of the night, you realized that brown was quickly becoming your favorite color. Brown like his eyes, or like the chocolate locks that sat so prettily atop his head.

“You must be a very smart woman to get into law school.”

“And you must be a very smart man to get into medical school,” you mocked back. He merely shook his head in response, letting his lips form into yet another breathtaking grin.

“I'm compelled to ask. Why are you outside and not in there dancing? Any gentleman would be lucky to have such a graceful, intelligent woman on his arm.”

The comment made you blush and you turned your head away from him. After this brief interaction you realized that the only man you wished to dance with tonight was Gilbert. Nobody else could stand a chance anymore - not that they ever did.

In a rush of confidence you replied. “Perhaps I don’t have the right men asking me.”

With a grin on his face, Gilbert held out his palm. His hands looked so inviting. You wondered how they would feel against your own, smaller hands.

“Well then, may I have this dance?”

Placing your fingers against his, you let the warmth spread across your body. He felt more perfect than you could’ve imagined. You let him lead you back to the ballroom, the shiny ground causing your shoes to clack against it. This was perhaps the first and only dance that you would actually enjoy at this event.

Gilbert’s hands felt light and pleasant on your waist. And there was something so tender about the way he spun you around.

He was like no other man you had ever danced with.

His feet were perfectly in sync with yours as he lead you across the floor. Warm eyes were concentrated on your face, never once leaving your penetrating stare. It felt more intimate than anything you had experienced to date. Your hands cupped his own as he sped the dance up, his twirls and dips causing butterflies to erupt in your stomach.

That night you felt like a princess in his arms.

When the music died down, he hesitantly dropped the grip on your waist. Lifting up your ringed hand to his lips, he placed a feather-like kiss onto it, honey colored orbs fixated on you.

“I hope we can do this again, Miss Y/N.”

Your skin buzzed in the absence of his touch, and you felt the area where he had left his mark. A kiss so gentle that you would dream about it for many nights to come.

You only hoped your father was in contact with somebody who knew Gilbert Blythe - because after tonight, you weren’t so sure you could see any man the same ever again.

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