#thelightspeaks

[the-lecherous-light]

my fitbit processed my girlfriend and i doing certain physical activities as cycling. so true girl i guess she had me riding something

[the-blue-spark]

A blue glow stands in a doorway of one of the Hotel's many halls, their voice full of uncertainty.

Are.. are you like us?

— @yourlocalguidinglight (feel free to ignore if don't wanna interact!)

//ooc I JUST CAME TO SCHOOL AND IMMEDIATELY GASPED WHEN I SAW THIS OMG 😭

*Guide titled his head, confused. It was another version of him. But this time, he wasn't familiar with them.*

I'd assume so. Your name is also Guiding Light, correct?

[the-lecherous-light]

my life would almost be worth it if there was a girl waiting for me when i come home who gets wet from violently desecrating my tired body without asking and then tells me she just had to because of how pretty i looked while i cry into her chest

[the-lecherous-light]

this blog is really going to start popping its pussy when i graduate to benzos, start hrt, start progesterone, quit benzos, caffeine pills and coffee cold turkey, and want my sickly bedridden form to get beaten off while beaten to death and have my corpse continue to get touched very inappropriately afterwards exponentially more than i ever have before. stay tuned six months from now when i post something about that in more detail at 3 a.m. while ugly crying, humping my pillow, and resting my finger on the trigger

[the-lecherous-light]

yeah it's crazy but i literally have not felt any sexual desire in the last three days but i also know if my girlfriend were here i'd be absentmindedly trying to make her cum every half hour because i like watching her during, maybe out of boredom, idk? i brought my vibrator back with me and i don't feel like using it. i mostly just want to cuddle and put my head on her chest again. is this what It is like. did i get denji'd. i just really wish she was here for me to sleep with, i was worried she had a fever when we slept together because she got so incredibly warm but it was just how much we both heated each other up. neither of us minded either, and i don't think we would have even if we did start sweating, it was too blissful to be intertwined. like sleeping next to the sun. the softest sun with the sweetest voice. i miss her.

[the-lecherous-light]

it's very strange having your sex drive drop to almost zero when it used to be your primary method of coping with things - it provided easy dopamine, stress relief, and now there's just... an echo of an itch.

it can't be scratched while alone, i don't feel the urge to pleasure myself at all, but there is something about the idea of pushing my thigh between hers that i know would make me mentally satisfied. the warmth, the wetness, the textural heaven, the way she'd move in response, the way she'd claw at me and try to hold me so close that she subsumes my very being more than she already has. like playing an instrument. it is for her. it is for me in the way that it feels good to control her with the mastery etched upon as little of myself as possible. watching someone's mind, words, and grasping for touch fill exclusively with you from just a couple of fingers is positively addicting.

the echo is still there. i've taken care of myself because i feel as though i need to, and i didn't particularly want it. i finished, because physical sensation is still physical sensation.

anyways, what replaces that in terms of vices? hunger was not as well suited, yes, but now i've won that battle, to my own detriment, ruining my body further with loose skin. no point in continuing with that discipline, so i've given it up. every time i have a craving, i eat, and it feels good as i consume, and then i don't feel any particular way about it afterwards, except a mild sense of guilt. i suppose it isn't that much different from sexual pleasure in that way. i should probably put an end to it soon, though - one of these costs money, and the other doesn't.

money, money, money. it's really quite something to realize how much of your life is pushing forward to meet the next appointment or delivery. so much money gone to things i do not currently have a life built around utilizing. a box full of jewelry i wear twice a month if i'm lucky, nail polish i can never use, makeup that will expire before a quarter of it is used, skirts i'm too scared of ruining with memories of being assaulted in if i dare to wear them outside.

i want a haircut. i want a new phone. i want the pills or injections that will keep my body from continuing to destroy itself. i want to rip the hair from every inch of my skin besides my scalp. i want a car. i want to drive. i want to take myself where i want to go. i want to meet people as some budget semblance of myself. instead, my entire next paycheck will go into settling debt with interest that isn't mine. there is nothing i will be able to afford myself in the coming weeks. i know where the nearest ladder is out of this plane of existence, and how much it costs to get there, and how much the cost of climbing it is. i will make sure to save that much, at least. the most important ticket. that is my minimum balance. things are so predictable, sometimes, for some people.

[the-lecherous-light]

dolled up and spent the whole day in bed with her, she just told me after leaving that she smells like me and loves it. time to pack, suicide cancelled, back to the hustle so i can get more expensive gifts for the next time and do that thing with my tie we didn't get around to

[the-lecherous-light]

there she is. her locks splayed out on the pristine hotel pillows and sheets like branches of a tree reclaiming the modern world, a dark and warm oasis in a sea of cold, unforgiving pale. all she's wearing is your hoodie, one she asked you to wear for weeks first, and the conditioner you ordered for her, and the scented body cream, and now that she's with you, you can spray that expensive perfume on the fabric that covers her and the skin underneath so that every note it contains rises from her in some way. a gorgeous force of nature turned into your olfactory dress up doll.

touch her underneath, taste her, hungrily, needily, and let that uncomfortable itch of warmth hit where sweat starts beading through her skin, then yours. but don't turn on the fan, or adjust the temperature, keep going, feverishly, both of you hot and wet and more lightheaded and thirsty with each passing moment, increasingly uncomfortable yet blissful in its extremity. the sun is lazily leering upon your bodies. it glints off the metal and gemstones you put on her finger, partially buried in your hair. higher and higher you take her, until she paints your lips and chin and cheeks with the fruits of your labor, and then keep going until you've had your fill, because this is for her, but it's also for you.

bury your face in her neck, fucked out of her mind, her nature and your nurture blending together, the days of pain that went into paying for just one of the chemicals you chose to plant upon her body. the hours counting up to being able to pay to see her again, to harvest from her all that now coats you. her hair, her skin, artificial and natural scents draped over each other, over her, over you. vanilla, coffee, cinnamon, sex, musk, iron, and too much more to funnel into words. breathe it in, nice and deep. it might be the last time. that's what i think love smells like, if you were curious.