#I am also making a stranger things one but it’s only half editing

[asexualasshat]

Here are my YouTube compilations of TikToks that remind me of my fav characters:

Losers Club as Tiktoke part 1

Losers Club as TikToks part 2

Losers Club as TikToks part 3

[withleeknow]

for the requests — i'll send two songs that i've liked for quite a while and you can choose the member that you see who fits the vibe?

sand by dove cameron

and

make you mine by madison beer

conversations with strangers.

pairing: seungmin x gn!reader genre/warnings: exes to ??, non-idol au (i wrote this with seungmin in mind as a celebrity/singer or musician of some sort so it's pretty vague and it's not explicitly mentioned what he actually does, so if you wanna imagine him as an idol it still fits the narrative. i can't tell you what to do lol), Angst™️! (i think. i liked this at first but then i was looking at it so much that i became desensitized to it and idk if it's that sad anymore lol); the ending is a little ambiguous maybe?, mentions of drinking, mentions of sex, could've been more edited word count: 2.9k note: this might be one of my favorite things that i've written lately but i am also in my fish freshly dropped on land era so i am fully prepared for this to flop like ass lol bye

as always, i’d appreciate any thoughts or comments you may have, and please drop a like and/or reblog if you enjoy reading ♡

navigation / request masterlist / ko-fi

I saw the end when we began You couldn't love the way I can I tried to bargain with the stars For more than half of your heart But you have more pieces of me than the desert has sand And I have less pieces of you than I can hold in my hand

Sand - Dove Cameron

"Why did you call me?"

"Why did you come?"

There isn't a good answer to his question, so you choose to ignore it in favor of keeping your eyes on the road, your fingers holding tightly onto the steering wheel. You don't know what to tell him. You yourself aren't even sure why you came to that bar, why Seungmin is sitting in your passenger seat right now just because he was drunk and he wouldn't let anyone take him home but you.

"I asked you first," you say. It takes an effort to keep your voice even, an effort not to look over at him.

"Don't know," he sounds like he couldn't care less, but that's always been Seungmin for you. "Old habits die hard, I guess. You were the only one I used to call."

You round a corner without even having to look at the GPS. The route to his place is still ingrained in your brain even after all this time. On some nights when you feel too stuffy indoors, you would go on a walk by yourself. Directionless for an hour or two, you just want to feel the wind wrap around your body and solid ground beneath your feet.

On these same nights, you would find yourself at Seungmin's door.

It's always unintentional, the way your feet would carry you to his home without your permission.

"Used to," you reiterate. "Past tense. You don't get to call me anymore. I'm not your chauffeur."

You feel his eyes on the side of your face. Then his voice, ever so calm and collected, "You came anyway, didn't you?"

His words irritate you for some reason, even though he means nothing bad. No malice in his voice; he's just simply stating a fact. You did come when he called, and perhaps the person that you're really annoyed with is only yourself, because why did you come?

He should be a stranger to you by now, and yet, you're here.

Maybe you know the answer. Maybe it's not a hard question at all.

You let the both of you wallow in silence for the rest of the drive. When you pull up to Seungmin's building about ten minutes later, you finally turn to cast your gaze upon him with your eyebrow slightly raised, a polite Get out if there ever was one.

Instead of taking the hint like a normal person and going on his merry way, he just stares at you with his big eyes and his hair still styled to perfection even after a night of celebrating and drinking. Seungmin loves to be difficult, this you can't ever forget.

"Well?" you press. "You're home."

He blinks, then swallows thickly. He looks around your car for a few seconds, unsure of himself. If he wasn't intoxicated, you would think he's trying to stall.

"I... I can't go up by myself," he says.

"Are you serious?"

He just nods, something expectant in his gaze.

"You're a grown man."

"Help me up." He doesn't sound all too drunk, but maybe he's just got a way of masking it because Seungmin would never outright ask for help. He's stubborn, and he thinks it makes him look weak. Incapable.

In the end, you give in to his request. You let him lean on you in the elevator on the way up to his floor, the scent of his cologne still overpowering the bourbon he had all night and it makes you just a little nostalgic.

At his door, you hold onto his waist and look away when he punches in the passcode. The door unlocks and this should be it for the two of you, your unexpected reunion should be ending the moment Seungmin crosses over to the other side of the threshold, but he just turns around and looks at you, his body against the frame of the door this time.

"There, you're home safely," you say. "I've done my part. Goodnight."

"Come in."

"Why?"

"I'm tired. Come in." And with that, Seungmin retreats into the apartment, leaving the door open for you to follow without any further explanation at all. For a moment, you stand there by yourself, not really sure of what to do. You hear him shuffling inside, before the sound of his body plopping onto the couch carries over to your ears.

What business do you have here? What business did you have with Seungmin in the first place today?

And yet, you find yourself trailing inside, closing the door behind you until the lock clicks into place. Maybe you're curious to see what the place looks like since the last time that you were here. The two of you never lived together - you weren't foolish enough to agree even though he did ask - but you were over often enough to consider this your second home.

Not much has changed. It's still the same minimalist four walls that you were used to. Same light gray paint, same black couch. Same framed signature of his favorite baseball player and same tiny crack in the decorative bowl on the coffee table. There's a photo on the credenza lying face down seemingly on purpose, but you don't say anything about it.

"What am I doing here?" you ask.

"Why did you come?" he shoots you the question for the second time tonight.

You blink at him. He only stares back.

"Why did you call me?" you repeat. "Why did you really call me?"

Questions thrown out but no answers received, like you're both running in circles, with neither of you knowing why you're even running in the first place.

Seungmin purses his lips before he stands up, the suddenness of the movement leaves him unsteady on his feet, makes him hold onto the couch's armrest for support. "Do you want some water?"

You bite the inside of your cheek. "Okay."

"Give me a second. Have a seat."

You watch as he pads into the kitchen a little wobbly, then returns a few minutes later with two glasses of water. He sits back down on the couch next to you, some distance dividing the two of you. He takes a sip, you do the same.

"Called you because I missed you," he says, casually admitting it like he was merely discussing the weather. The place hasn't changed, but maybe he has.

The last time you spoke to Seungmin was about six months ago, when he dropped off your things two weeks after you broke up. You haven't had any contact since, and that's exactly the way it should be for you and him now. You went your separate ways and that was it. A mutual agreement that hurts, but it was mutual nonetheless. For the past half a year, all he's been to you is a stranger. You know why it had to happen. You agreed to it.

But, just because you haven't talked, doesn't mean that you haven't thought of him. You wish he only crossed your mind in passing, wish your brain only conjured up the image of him whenever you saw something that he would like, or whenever you caught a glimpse of him on the TV or radio. In reality, it's been much more pathetic. You think of him almost every day, despite your best efforts to cleanse yourself of everything that's remotely related to the name Kim Seungmin. His absence carries itself with you all the time, a hollowness that seeps into every crevice of your life.

You know he means it. Seungmin doesn't lie, least of all to you. His honesty twists inside of you like a knife. Salt, meet wound.

You have no words to offer him, no response you can think of that would make sense to say out loud so you don't say anything. The only sound that falls from your lips is his name, like a warning, a plea, a consolation all at once.

But he doesn't seem to mind. Not his sudden vulnerability, not your reluctance to entertain that split second of honesty.

"I answered your question. Now you have to answer mine," he says. "Why did you come?"

"What do you want me to tell you?"

He doesn't respond right away. Instead, he takes a moment like he's mulling it over in his head. "Thought maybe you missed me too," he says eventually, ending the sentence with a bitter chuckle. "Just a little bit."

You tongue your cheek, stall with another sip of water before you place the glass on the table. On a coaster of course, Seungmin hates cup rings on his fancy table.

You lean back to rest on the couch, staring up at his boring ceiling. There are memories of you on this very couch, ones of you lying with your head on his lap as he plays with your hair, the two of you winding down after a long day. Or ones that are far too inappropriate to bring up ever again, of nights where you were both too desperate and impatient to take it to the bedroom. Those gentle reminders are still here somewhere, tucked between the cushions perhaps.

"Sure." You hum, nodding along. "Let's go with that."

Another chuckle, humorless. Though, you think he's pleased enough with that non-answer but you're not sure. He mirrors your position, falling into the couch with a sigh. From your peripheral vision, you think he's scooched closer to you, just by a few centimeters, in the process of settling into the sofa.

"My turn," you say. "Why do you want me here?"

"What is this, 21 questions?"

You shrug simply. "You asked me to come in. I'm just curious."

When Seungmin stays silent for a beat too long, you turn your head to watch him, thinking maybe he's knocked out because of the alcohol in his system. But you find him wide awake, his eyes staring ahead, looking like he's already sober.

His face is unreadable when he says, "Wanted to see something."

"See what?"

"See if something is still there."

It's your turn to remain quiet as you process his words, and it's Seungmin who has to turn to gauge your reaction.

"And? Is anything still there?" you ask.

"I don't know, you tell me. You're the one that stayed."

"Does it matter? If I say there is?"

"Of course it does."

"What would you do about it?"

He goes still once more. You know he doesn't have an answer to your question. What would he do? What could he even do? Patch things up only for them to fall apart again in a couple months? Once upon a time, you were naive enough to think that you could find a way to make it work. You had enough blind faith to think that it would all work out in the end; that if you wanted it enough, maybe the universe would let you have this one thing.

You return your gaze to the ceiling. He's shown you his cards, maybe it's only fair that you show him some of yours too.

An uncertain inhale, then the realization that this is the only time you would be able to have an honest conversation with him about this.

"Wanna hear something funny?" you ask.

"I have a feeling you're gonna tell me anyway."

It's anything but funny, and Seungmin is certain that you're not building up to a punchline. Sure, it's a little tragic that nothing matters, but there's some freedom, some comfort in that too. You can tell him everything that's plagued your mind for the past couple hundred days or so without having to worry about the repercussions. Even though not all is said, everything is already done.

"You know, you were mine before you were anyone else's," you say. You feel his eyes on the side of your face. The silence persists, and you aren't sure if you can take it as a sign to continue, but you do so anyway because at least he's not pumping the brakes on it, right? "I used to be jealous of your life. Toward the end, I mean."

"Jealous of what?"

"I don't know. Just your life, your dream. All of it."

Seungmin blinks. "You were jealous that I got to live my dream?"

"I said I was jealous of your life, not you," you correct him. "Because you always seemed to want everything else more than you wanted me."

"You make it sound like I was the bad guy." He turns a little defensive all of a sudden, an edge in his voice when he says, "That's not true."

You still remember him well enough to know that it is.

And it's not such a terrible thing; it's simply the truth. You can't fault him for having a dream and for having enough courage to see it through, even if it means unintentionally leaving you behind in the process. You could foresee the end even from the beginning. If you wanted to blame someone, you would have to blame yourself too.

You swerve around his metaphorical walls, his make-believe suit of armor. If you'd been nervous around Seungmin tonight, then that anxiety is now chipping away brick by brick the more you internalize the fact that nothing matters anymore.

"Remember your last show before we broke up? You were so happy, I was so proud of you. You belong on stage and I never wanted to take that away from you. But then I noticed the crowd, the thousands of people out there cheering your name and I realized that I would never compare to them. Their praise meant more to you than mine, and it was only a matter of time before you outgrew me to look for bigger and better spotlights.

"I'm not saying you were wrong for any of it. I don't blame you. You were always going to outgrow me. It's sad, but it's okay. I always knew that you'd have to leave me behind at some point. It's on me too; I just fell too hard too fast for someone who could never stay. It's your dream, you can't help it. But that night... that was the nail in the coffin for me, knowing that one day, to you, I would be just one of the faces in a crowd that you can't even tell apart."

It doesn't hurt as much as you thought it would. In fact, it's even a little cathartic to pour out the words that have been sitting heavy on your chest. Although it's not until a single tear spills over that you realize your eyes have welled up somewhere along the way. You quickly wipe it away with your thumb, then you feel his hand reach for yours after a few beats.

Seungmin calls your name, and you can hear the regret in his voice. When you look at him, his eyes have softened, no longer on the defense now that you've beat him to the offense. "I'm not drunk enough to forget about this in the morning, you know," he says.

"Does it matter? What are you going to do about it in the morning?" you ask. "We're already broken up. It's not like we can go anywhere from here. But at least now you know what it was like for me."

It seems to be a common theme tonight - stretches of silence in between admissions of truth so that one of you can gauge the other's reaction, trying to assess what path would be worth it to take at this crossroad you find yourselves unable to move on from.

Then he's tugging on your hand, pulling you to him until you're in each other's orbit again. Close enough for him to wrap his arm around you. Close enough that you're weak, not that you were ever that strong to begin with. It doesn't really come as a surprise that you let him.

"I..." Seungmin starts, full of uncertainty as he tries to string together a sentence. "We could go back."

This isn't a surprise either, that you're considering his words.

"What happens when it ends again?"

You can practically taste the residual bourbon on his breath when he leans into you, his lips brushing your cheek just slightly. "Then it ends again," he says, a little pained, all too selfish. "But it'll be worth it. It's worth it to me."

"What if it's not what I want? What if it's not worth it to me?"

He pulls back, putting some distance between your faces so he could see you better, the deep brown of his eyes searching for something that you're both aware of.

"You came tonight," he murmurs, as if that in and of itself is a sufficient enough explanation. "You stayed."

Not all is said, but everything is already done.

You had chance after chance after chance to leave, to shut this down - whatever this is - but you didn't, not even once. You're still a willing participant even though you've lived through this ending before. You know he loved you, know he loves you even if the way he goes about it is selfish.

Because you do know the answer to his questions. It's clear as day; anyone can see it from a mile away.

When your world eventually comes crashing down again some time from now, you won't blame Seungmin. You won't blame yourself either, despite having option to walk away from all of this right now.

Because maybe some pains are worth enduring twice, aren't they?

Why did you come? Why did you stay?

Is anything still there?

all rights reserved © withleeknow. reposting, translating and/or modifying is not permitted by any means. [posted 08.06.2024]

[hyunfilms]

connected (hhj) | one shot.

—summary: a night alone at the bar leads you to a beautiful man named hyunjin.

—pairing: hwang hyunjin x f. reader

—genre: (18+) strangers to lovers | fluff, smut

—word count: 5.6k

—content/warnings: love at first sight kinda thing? soulmates if you really squint, was kinda inspired reading yung pueblo's poem (his poem isnt available anymore rip), cussing, model/artist hyunjin, oc and hyunjin are completely enamored by each other & hyunjin got googly eyes hehe, he is very sweet and a gentleman though, alcohol consumption, intoxication, kisses/making out, protected sex, praising, oral (f. receiving), fingering, sprinkle of spit play, ass-smacking, breast play, sprinkle of choking, missionary, doggy style 🤓 woof, multiple orgasms (like 2 lol), after care and cuddles, lightly edited so i apologize if i miss anything!!, very self-indulgent and just something i needed to write out 😭

—ON ROTATION: fwm - tone stith / for us - v

Sleepless nights.

It’s another one of those sleepless nights— for him, for her, for many people, for you.

Your business trip to Paris was coming to an end tonight; an early AM flight scheduled in the morning to bring you back to your beautiful, but also mundane life in California. Although grateful for the opportunity to travel here and explore for a week and a half, you were ready to get back to the familiar. The familiar places, the familiar faces, familiar routine. You sigh at the thought, finishing up your cocktail at the bar while scrolling through social media. 

“Another one, miss?” The bartender comes to you with a small smile on his face.

“Please. Thank you.” You nod and reciprocate the smile, eyes now glancing around the room as you feel the alcohol slowly running through your veins. The bar was beautifully decorated in dark, elegant decor, lights dimmed throughout the entire room. Luckily for you, your hotel room was only a few floors up— making it incredibly easy for you to enjoy yourself and let loose; something you haven’t been able to do while being bombarded with coworkers and a tight agenda.

Your eyes fall onto the couple just a table or two away. They’re enjoying their drinks, though their eyes say they’re bored and over each other with the way they can’t keep eye contact for longer than 2 seconds. Then, your eyes fall onto the lady in the far corner who is typing furiously away on her phone. Your eyes shift to the gentleman all the way down on the other end of the bar, repeatedly looking down at his watch before bringing the phone to his ear for the umpteenth time; probably waiting on a date that never showed up when they said they would.

“Whiskey on the rocks, please?” Your eyes now fall onto the tall, attractive man that slides into the empty seat next to you— setting his bag onto the surface before letting out a heavy sigh. He’s in a black sweater, slacks and black chelsea boots, and you can’t help but notice how everything sits on his figure so, so perfectly. Hair pulled back in a neat ponytail, a few bangs framing the sides of his face; freshly shaved undercut. His tongue quickly swipes the surface of his pink, plump lips before he thanks the bartender and sips on his drink— you’re sure you’ve never seen anybody so perfectly sculpted.

Was this a cruel joke?

“Your cocktail, miss.” You thank the bartender again before shyly sipping on your second glass of the night, trying to keep to your own space.

“Sorry, hope someone wasn’t sitting here already.” He suddenly says, making you turn towards him. There’s really no one else around but you two; perhaps, another individual a few seats down, and that gentleman at the end still waiting on his date. 

“Oh, um. No.” You give him a toothless smile. “You’re good.”

“Cool.” Is all he says before chugging the whiskey in his glass, asking for another round. “It’s been a long night. Wanna take a shot with me?” He turns to you again, licking his lips yet again. “No pressure.” You keep your eyes on him as you think about your next move. He is an attractive man, a harmless one at that. 

It’s your last night in Paris, what do you have to lose?

“Sure.” You shrug. “Why not?”

“Nice to know you’re down.” He laughs a bit before calling the bartender and asking for two shots. “What’s your poison?”

“Tequila.” He pokes his bottom lip out before nodding in agreement.

“Two shots of tequila it is, then.”

“Didn’t you just down some whiskey? That’s a little dangerous.” He laughs before turning in his seat to face you.

“Don’t worry about me sweetheart, I’m staying here.” Crazy, you think. Out of all the times to bump into someone who is also staying at this hotel. “What about you?”

“I’m here, too.” You sip on your drink some more.

“Then we’ll enjoy it.” He flashes his pearly whites when he smiles. “Hyunjin.” He holds out his hand.

“Y/N.”

“Pleasure to meet you.” He caresses the surface of your hand with his thumb just as the bartender comes back with two shot glasses filled to the brim with tequila. The bartender points to your cocktail with a smirk.

“Need a refill to wash down the tequila, or do you need something else?”

“I should be good. Thanks.” He winks before tending to the others down the line.

“So, Y/N. Where are you from?”

“California. What about you?”

“Seoul.”

“Nice. One of my friends moved there recently.” You quickly think about Lola, hoping she’s doing okay. Mental note to send her a message on Kakao later. “What brings you here?”

“Mm, probably the same reason as you.” Hyunjin smirks.

“Work?” He nods.

“See. Already have something in common.” You chuckle a bit, biting onto your bottom lip. “How long are you here for?”

“I’ve been here for close to two weeks. I’m heading back tomorrow morning.”

“Shame.” He does a slight head tilt. “We probably could have had fun exploring together.” You cock an eyebrow up before letting out a giggle.

“You think I’d be fun to explore with? A stranger?”  Hyunjin grabs his shot glass while gently pushing yours over to you.

“I mean, you were down to take a shot with me. Why wouldn’t you be?” He raises his shot glass. “Cheers, Y/N.” You take your shot glass and tap it against his, the both of you taking the shot to the neck. Hyunjin makes a face [that probably mirrors yours right now] before sipping on a soda as chase. You squint your eyes as the burn lingers down your throat, immediately reaching for your cocktail to chase the rest down— which is definitely not the best choice of action here.

But, you’re enjoying the night. The last night. 

With a beautiful, beautiful man next to you.

“Atta girl.” He laughs.

“Haven’t done that in awhile.”

“Feels kinda liberating in a sense, hm?” He teases. “Since I’m working with a deadline here, let’s get another round going while you tell me about yourself.”

“Another?”

“Last. Promise.” He winks.

“Hm.” You hum. “What can I tell you?” You ask, even though you mainly mean that question for yourself. What can you tell Hyunjin that is enough, and not too much?

“Why someone like you doesn’t have anyone by your side tonight?” He shrugs. “Or, anything. Everything, really. That works, too.” Hyunjin runs his finger along his bottom lip.

“Someone like me? Are you always this forward?” You tilt your head, already starting to feel the shot and cocktail. You like the way his eyes are glued on you, you like the way he says your name. You like the way he’s being forward, you like the way he looks tonight. You like him, you take interest in him.

He is exciting.

“No, but it’s the deadline.” He reminds you, making you snort.

“Well. It’s because I just don’t have anyone by my side in general.” You answer his question with a chuckle. “Just a 24 year old in tech, visiting their Paris office for another project.” You swirl the stirrer in your cocktail. “What about you? What brings you here?”

“Just a 23 year old dabbling in some art stuff. Some Fashion stuff.” He laughs, red tint coloring the surface of his cheeks just as the bartender brings another round of tequila shots. “Nothing too fancy.”

‘It sounds fancy.”

“Maybe, maybe not.” He answers with another one of his cryptic responses, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. “Ready for round two?”

“Maybe, maybe not.” You mock him and he laughs, passing your shot glass.

“Cute.” He taps his shot glass against yours, giving you a nod of acknowledgment before you two are repeating the process— knocking the shot back, relieving the burn with some sort of chase, giggling at how quick the alcohol is hitting you both. You are drunk, and you should’ve eaten a bit more before this. Fuck. “Can I tell you something?”

“Of course.”

“If you couldn’t tell already, I think you’re really, really pretty.”

“Is that so?” He nods cutely, and it makes you laugh.

“Mhm. So I mean it when I say I wanna know all about you.”

“You don’t give up, do you?” He shakes his head.

“Nah.” He smiles, bottom lip in between his teeth as he eyes your features. “So, what is Y/N all about?” He sits back a bit while his gaze lingers on you, your eyes. The tip of your nose. Your lips. Your long, beautiful lashes.

He is paying attention to every word that slips from your lips, watching your hand gestures as you quickly explain your family dynamics and how you’ve grown up in a quiet household— always remaining quiet, shy and kept to yourself even until this day. You tell him about your friends back home, how you love to stay at home and be a homebody, how you occasionally find the energy to haul yourself out for long, but fun nights with your girls. You also [drunkenly] stumble upon the topic of exes, which you don’t normally open up about right away. But you’re a few shots in, and it doesn’t help that Hyunjin is actually showing interest in you.

He hasn’t taken his eyes off of you, and he doesn’t plan to.

“Yeah, we’re not really friends or anything like that anymore.” You blabber on. “He blocked me everywhere. Which, you know—” You hiccup, a bit more drunk than you were 5 minutes ago. “I kinda don’t care because he shouldn’t be asking to look through my phone every time I go out. I fucking left after that. No sir, not me. No thanks.” Hyunjin laughs, endeared by how quick you’ve opened up to him. He appreciates it, and he does enjoy the way you talk about life; even if you may view it as simple, quiet.

“You’re right for having left him.” Hyunjin leans forward a bit. “It’s not fair, especially when you’ve never given him a reason to distrust you. You deserve better than that.”

“You think so?” You chuckle.

“Mhm.” 

“Sorry, I totally went off and probably told you a lot more than you should know at this point.” He shakes his head. “What about you, Hyunjin?”

“No, I like hearing you talk. You’re very cute.” He laughs. “I’m not that interesting.”

“Really? I think you are.” You rest your chin on the palm of your hand.

“Yeah?” He smirks. “I just paint. A lot. I do some photoshoots. That’s all.”

“So are you like .. an artist, or something? A model?” He shrugs.

“I’m just Hyunjin.” He smiles. “But, I guess so? You can say that. I don’t have lots of friends, people oddly find me intimidating but I don’t care much to fix that either. I do stick to a few of them, we hang out often. I haven’t dated in awhile either, wasn’t really a priority for me.”

“Why did your last relationship end?” You internally curse yourself for fixing on that one detail out of everything else he’s mentioned. But, he doesn’t seem to mind. Spoiler: he doesn’t.

“Just didn’t click well like we thought we would.”

“I’m sorry.” He smiles.

“Don’t be. I like where I’m at.” 

“That’s all that matters, right?”

“Yeah. Especially right now.” You cock a brow up, head tilting to the side again.

“Right now?”

“Mhm, with you. A few shots and drinks down, pondering on life. My kinda evening. Makes me not regret a thing about coming here.”

“You’re funny.” 

“And you’re pretty.” He licks his bottom lip and bites onto it. His hand is only a few inches away from yours, pinky dying to reach out and pull your hand into his— wanting to playfully lace his fingers with yours. He’s not sure what it is, but he was drawn to you from the very moment he stepped into the bar. He smiled a bit to himself when he saw you people-watching, keeping to yourself as you sipped your drink and continued to scroll through your phone. You were totally oblivious to him from the beginning, and that was okay. Hyunjin wanted to quietly slip himself into the equation and find more subtle ways to talk to you, get to know you.

And he doesn’t regret a fucking thing.

He might be drunk, but he means it. He hasn’t ever felt this comfortable with a stranger, someone he met not too long ago. And that says a lot for him; it says a lot about you, your character. Meanwhile, you don’t think you’ll ever understand how someone like Hyunjin decided to waltz in and take this seat next to you at the time that he did. You’ll never understand the timing of everything, how the universe works and why it had to be a beautiful man like Hyunjin who found you first. But, you also don’t regret a damn thing, and you’re glad you decided to head to the bar tonight— especially alone.

When you meet Hyunjin’s eyes, it’s obvious that he’s feeling something— but that’s not the problem, no. You’re dying to find out what it means for the both of you tonight, how he plans to show you. Because you know he will, and that’s where the problem lies. What happens after that? When you both go along your merry ways?

“You know.. I think I’m just gonna call it a night soon.” You want to find out, but you don’t know if it’ll be good for you.

“Yeah?” You stand but find yourself stumbling on your own feet, letting out a laugh when you try to grab your things and keep yourself together. “Woah, pretty lady.” Hyunjin laughs with you. “How about I walk you to your room?” You pause. Fuck it.

“Okay, yeah. That’d be nice.”

“Alright, let me just pay for our tab—” He gives the bartender a look and gestures to close out the tab, his card already in his hand.

“What, no! Hyunjin.” You wrestle with your own wallet. “Let me pay for my own drinks.”

“Nah, I got you. On me.” He smiles sweetly. “Please.” You let out a sigh and surrender, letting him pay for the drinks before he stands and slips his card back into his wallet.

“Thank you.”

“No, thank you. For being good company.” He gives you a toothless smile. “So, where to?”

“10th floor?”

“After you.” He bids the bartender one last farewell before following you out of the bar and out into the hotel lobby. His eyes can’t help but linger down your figure; eyeing that tight, itty bitty off-the-shoulder dress and the way it hugs your curves, black over-the-knee boots hugging your legs nicely. 

Ain’t no way you were just planning on sitting at the bar looking that fine.

“Hyunjin?” You call for him as you both stand in front of the elevator doors, and he’s snapped out of his thoughts. “You don’t actually have to walk me. I can make it in one piece.” You giggle.

“Leave you alone while drunk? I don’t think so.” He chuckles.

“Hm.” You hum, eyes fixed on the elevator doors in front of you. Hyunjin stands right behind you— inches away, just close enough to feel the heat radiate from his body. When the elevator dings, Hyunjin gently presses his hand against the small of your back; pushing you forward into the elevator. The touch itself brings tingles down your spine, enough where it has you struggling to keep your composure. You lean against the back railing, while Hyunjin stands next to you— hand resting on the rail as he faces your direction. Your eyes meet his, and you feel yourself get weak in the knees;

So weak that your phone slips out of your hands, making a loud thud against the floor.

“Oops, shit.” You mutter.

“I got it.” Hyunjin laughs, bending down to grab your phone. You can’t help but watch his every move closely, watching as he bends down, large hand grabbing at your phone. He’s way too close to your legs at one point, and your mind wanders to what it would be like if he were in between— “Think that belongs to you, miss.” He teases, standing tall as he hands you your phone. “You sure you’re good?”

“I am.” Except, not. Because the elevator is ten times hotter than it was earlier, and it seems to be taking its sweet ol’ time getting to your floor. The tension is unreal.

“What’s on your mind?”

“What do you mean?”

“I can hear you thinking.”

“Mmm, I’m not sure.”

“What do you mean?” You pause as you look at him.

“I mean, has anyone ever told you how attractive you are?” You blurt out, alcohol definitely giving you that liquid courage to say anything and everything that’s currently running through your mind. “You just.. look like that.” He laughs.

“I could say the same for you, pretty. Trust me.” He leans forward towards your ear a bit, his scent lingering and trapping you in. “You wanna know something else?”

“Hm?”

“You make it very hard to not wanna kiss you.” He pulls back a bit to read your expression— almost like he’s giving you leverage to take it and run with it, or leave it. Everything in your court.

So, you choose.

And you choose by gently grabbing at his sweater, planting your lips on his for that first, initial kiss. His lips are soft and pillowy, just like you imagined. You only pull away a few inches, eyes darting from Hyunjin’s eyes, to his lips, back up to his eyes. He chases after your lips within the next minute, hand coming up to cup you by the neck; thumb caressing your cheek. At this point, you’re stuck to Hyunjin— lips seemingly not wanting to part from his. And you’re loving every bit of it so, so much. 

You’re loving every bit of it so much that you don’t even care when the elevator takes a stop, doors sliding open for the man who was patiently waiting on the other side. He eyes the both of you before keeping his distance, positioning himself closer to the doors while scrolling through his phone. Hyunjin lets out a soft sigh in between kisses, completely wrapped up in your scent, your touch— you.

You’ve barely met, but right now, it feels like the world is at a stop; like it’s just you and Hyunjin at this moment in time. You’ll never understand it.

“Fuck.” He whispers against your lips before moving near your ear. “You’re driving me crazy.” He plants a soft kiss on your cheek before navigating back down to your lips. His other hand comes to your thigh and gives it a gentle squeeze before his finger teases the edge of your dress— Hyunjin keeping the kiss alive with your hands still gripping at his sweater. His hand travels around to give your ass a quick squeeze before pressing you flush against him; to be close to him, to feel him.

And god, do you feel him.

He takes this moment to tug on your bottom lip, making you let out a sigh. The man who stepped into the elevator is now a long-gone thought, no longer caring about his presence or the fact that he’s a mere couple of steps away from you two. But finally, the elevator dings again and flashes a bright ‘10’ on the screen. Hyunjin quickly pulls away to check the current floor before slipping his hand into yours and leading the way out of the elevator. As soon as the doors close, the both of you erupt in a fit of giggles while leading the way down the hallway to your room. As you fiddle with your bag and try to fish for your hotel keycard, Hyunjin plants feathery kisses along your neck, down to your shoulder— his fingers still teasing the edge of your dress.

“Finally.” You pout, making Hyunjin laugh before placing another kiss near your jaw. As soon as you step inside the room, you toss your bag aside and wrap your arms around Hyunjin’s neck, legs around his waist. He carries you deeper into the room, setting you down on the edge of the bed to continue kissing you. In between kisses, he works his way with your boots; gently sliding the zipper down before tossing one boot off to the side, then the next.

“This dress.” He gently pushes you down on the bed before peppering kisses along your thighs. “So perfect on you.” He nibbles on your inner thighs, then soothes the surface with his lips. “Can’t believe no one was trying to snatch you up.”

“Maybe it’s just meant to be, hm?” You tease with a playful tone. Hyunjin pauses and looks at you, a smile teasing at the corner of his lips before he comes down and presses another sweet kiss to your lips.

“Maybe I’m just lucky after all.” You feel his hand fiddling with the edge of your dress again, slowly dipping further. “You know, we don’t have to do this if you don’t want to. We can totally—” A kiss. “Just hang out and talk more—” Another kiss. 

“Hanging out and talking more—” Kiss. “Sounds good to me.”

“Mhm.” He pulls away and looks at you, really looks at you, before brushing the hair away from your face. “I mean it. I don’t normally do things like this. I just— I don’t know.” He chuckles a bit. “I’ve been drawn to you since I walked into that bar.” It’s your turn to look at him, really look at him, and you do nothing but pull him back to your lips.

“Please keep going.” Is all you manage to say. Because you are also drawn to him, and you’ll never understand it.

But right now, you don’t want to try and understand it. You just want to take this moment for what it is, for everything that it is.

The intensity grows during the heated kiss, and Hyunjin is back to slotting himself in between your thighs, dress now pushed up.

“Can I?” He asks, and you nod— giving him full permission to remove your panties and toss them off to the side; feet propped up on the bed to give Hyunjin the best view. He doesn’t waste any time before he’s running his thumb down your slit, sliding two fingers in just to get a feel for you. He bites onto his bottom lip, reveling in the soft moans you’re letting out. “So wet for me.” He says before licking a stripe upwards, feeling your legs slightly jolt at the sensation. “Gonna take care of you.” He reassures you by running a hand up your thigh and gently squeezing it. He laps at your folds, sucking gently at the sensitive nub before repeating his motions and pumping his digits into you at a set pace. 

“My god.” You whimper, hands resting on Hyunjin’s head. A gasp falls from your slips when Hyunjin removes his fingers and spits on your pussy, tongue spreading your wetness all over. You continue to grind against his mouth, picking up the pace when you feel yourself reaching your peak. The way he was taking care of you was heaven sent; incredibly heaven sent that with just another roll or two, Hyunjin manages to push you over the edge. “Oh— yes!” You blurt out as you come undone, your entire body going limp while catching stars.

Hyunjin soothes you through small pecks on your thighs, through gentle squeezes of the hips. He stands and hovers over you, giving you a taste of yourself when he leans in for a kiss— holding the kiss there momentarily. When you part, he watches as you take his hand, tongue circling around the two fingers that were just inside of you. He swears he almost loses himself at that moment, but he manages to keep himself together. Hyunjin moves you up on the bed, making sure you’re comfortable in between the tiny kisses he plants all over your body.

Chest.

Hands, fingers.

Collarbone, neck.

Lips.

He’s stripping you of your dress, just as you help him out of his sweater, his slacks. His eyes widen when he pops off your strapless bra, letting out a shaky breath before taking a nipple into his mouth— tongue working in circular motions and pulling back with a pop. You arch your back slightly and let out a moan, Hyunjin taking this opportunity to move onto the next bud and repeating the motion on it. You tease at the waistband of his boxers before he wrestles himself out of them; dick painfully hard and springing free. He lets out a moan when he feels your hand wrap around his member, pumping him a few times and watching the pre-cum leak from his tip.

“Need you.” He breathily moans. “Need you now, pretty.”

“Here.” You pause, grabbing the single condom from your bag on the nightstand. Hyunjin leans back on his ankles, laughing at the box you’ve handed over.

“So, why do you have this?” He smirks as he rips the condom open and begins to slide it down his length.

“Quit. My bestfriend shoved it in my bag as a ‘just in case.’”

“Tell them I said thank you.” You giggle.

“Shut up.” Hyunjin bites his lip before diving in for another kiss. Even as he breaks the kiss, his lips continue to graze yours as he lines himself up at your entrance— eyes glued to yours as he slips himself in slowly. He watches your eyes roll back and shut close, back arching; a silent moan leaving your lips. He continues to push, and push, until he bottoms out and lets out a shaky breath; giving himself a moment to adjust and keep his composure.

God, you feel good around him.

“Fuuuuck.” He moans. “Feels too good. So perfect.” He begins to slowly pick up the pace, hearing your slickness make those noises beneath him that drive him insane. You grip onto his chiseled biceps, pretty white polished nails digging into the surface of his skin. At this point, Hyunjin has found the perfect rhythm— sinking into you every thrust, feeling every inch, every delicate point that he can touch. 

Deeply.

“Hyunjin, god. Please.” You whine and beg continuously, calling his name as he continues to pound into you relentlessly. The only sounds in the room are the sounds of skin against skin, wet kisses being exchanged in between and your names bouncing off of the walls.

“I got you.” Hyunjin feels you squeezing him, and it’s taking everything within him not to burst. He takes a hand to your neck and gives it a gentle squeeze, watching your tits bounce with every thrust he gives.

And he gives it all. 

He sits back for a moment when he sees you starting to move your hips and ride against his movements. Another moan slips from his lips when he watches you roll your hips and work him from beneath, hissing when you speed it up. 

“Such a good girl.” He says. Your moans become a little sharper, a little louder, Hyunjin now taking his thumb to your clit to relieve some of the tension. You begin to whimper, your nails digging a little deeper, and Hyunjin can feel your walls starting to cave. He continues his work on your clit before he's back to fucking you senselessly into the mattress. 

“Right there— Hyunjin—” Your words are broken as you try to chase your high. “Close—” 

“That’s it, pretty.” He says, praising you and egging you to tip over the edge. It takes a few more before Hyunjin sees your face contort in pleasure, back arching just as you tremble underneath him. “Shit, that’s it.” He repeats, feeling your walls pulse against him. He feels himself getting close to his own climax, so he quickly pulls out and has you flip over— face down, ass up. He wastes no time slipping himself back in, continuing at the pace he was just at even though you were still trying to recover from your last orgasm. Though a bit sensitive, the pleasure rebuilds quickly, and you’re back to begging Hyunjin to go harder.

Faster.

Which, he gladly does. He gives your ass a good smack, leaving his print while letting out a groan and gripping your hips. He calls your name, praising you for how good you’ve been to him tonight and how lucky he is. 

“Y/N, fuck— gonna cum.” He breathes out, his thrusts becoming sloppy as he feels his coil threatening to snap. Sooner or later, a beautiful, melodic moan slips from his lips, his hands digging crescents into your hips as he falls onto you and fills up the condom. “You okay, pretty?” He presses a soft kiss on your back, your right shoulder.

“Mhm.” He removes himself from you, the both of you letting out soft sighs at the feeling. Hyunjin tosses the condom in the trash before racing off to the bathroom.

“Let me get you cleaned up.” He says as he grabs for one of your wipes sitting in the bathroom, cleaning you up before himself. You shyly head to the bathroom to finish up and change into something more comfortable— slipping into the covers while Hyunjin throws on his boxers. You’re not really sure what’s next, and to be honest, you’re a little unsure of how to navigate this whole one-night-stand thing.

Because of course you’ll have to. You leave tomorrow. This is the first and last time you’ll see Hyunjin.

It makes you a bit sad, for whatever reason.

“I-I hope you know you aren’t obligated to stay, I know you must wanna go back to your room—” He laughs a bit and turns to you.

“How about I stay until you fall asleep, hm? That sound okay with you?” Yes, yes it does. You want him here, and you want to cherish every last bit of this tender, intimate moment that you’ve shared with someone you connected with hours ago.

“Okay.” He slips himself in, comfortable in his boxer briefs and nothing else. You find this to be the cherry on top; the way Hyunjin pulls you in and allows you to lay on his chest, listening to his heartbeat beneath you, the way he lazily throws an arm over you but keeps you close, the way that he just lets you be.

Hyunjin is connected to you. He is drawn to you.

The combination of the alcohol and exhaustion is now pushing you to fall asleep quickly in Hyunjin’s arms. He manages to close his eyes, afraid to move you or wake you— wanting you to get the best sleep possible before your flight tomorrow. You’ll never understand this. But tonight, you won’t try to. Because you’ll take this for what it is, for everything that it is.

You are connected to Hyunjin. You are drawn to him.

Hyunjin wakes up and finds your side of the bed cold, empty. Which tugs a bit on his heart, but he knew this is what it would come to— being it was your last night, and the two of you lived on opposite ends of the world. He honestly didn’t mean to stay last night, but he couldn’t help himself after seeing how peacefully you were sleeping. He’s not sure he understands it well enough, but he still feels drawn to you; even now, as you board your plane and take your seat in business class. He finds a tiny note on the nightstand with your name and number, and he smiles to himself— making sure to keep the note safe.

Hyunjin keeps the note safe for awhile. Safe to the point where he doesn’t do much with it besides look at the number every now and then before tucking it back into his wallet. He can’t find the courage to text you, call you, because he’s not sure what is left of you two after that night. What would he do from Seoul? What would you do from California?

It’s unfortunate, and Hyunjin really hates it. He’s not sure when he’ll use this. And of course, over time, you’ve wondered what you did, or why Hyunjin didn’t make use of your number. Though, part of you understood where he was coming from. So, you eventually learn to let it be.

Maybe there wasn’t a use for it, for all of this. 

Maybe it was supposed to be a one-night thing, a memorable, one-night thing. A one-night thing that you keep for the memories, a one-night thing that you keep close to your heart– Hyunjin.

Nothing more, nothing less.

Hyunjin keeps the note safe for a while. Safe to the point where he doesn’t do much with it besides look at the number every now and then before tucking it back into his wallet.

Until months later, Hyunjin finds himself thinking about your note just as he steps onto the concrete floor and takes in the fresh air—

Eyes shifting to the California sunrise ahead of him.

—perm taglist: @ppiri-bahng @jihanlovic @meloncremesoda @sweetlikecherry @asjkdk

[golbrocklovely]

cultish love // colby brock

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

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

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

word count: 8610

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

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

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

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

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

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

~~~~

Day 1 - Investigation

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

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

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

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

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

A cult with future plans? Almost unheard of.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Consenting adults… minus the supposed brainwashing.

A couple of the interviewees stuck out to me:

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

~~~~

Day 2 - Interview with Colby

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Intimacy?

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

I guess so...

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

~~~~~~

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He blinked. "Group, you mean."

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

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

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

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

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

Jesus, that was creepy.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

~~~~~~

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

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

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

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

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

I exhaled. “Hi, Colby.”

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

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

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

I glared, “You think?”

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

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

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

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

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

I shook my head. “No, I'm good.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

How did he know I was still far away?

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

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

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

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

How is any of this happening?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

What the fuck is this?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You're insane.” I mumbled.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Fuck you.” I growled.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He deadpanned, “Ow. That hurt.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What's tomorrow?” I murmured.

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

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

[eroticdarling]

A KIDNAPPED DOLL

[ KINK ] Abduction Seduction

[ MEANING ] A kink that involves kidnapping someone in a loving manner

[ AU ] Yandere

[ PAIRING ] Yandere!Bonten!Sanzu x Fem!Reader

[ WARNINGS ] Kidnapping Kink 𖹭 Obsession 𖹭 Stalking 𖹭 Pet Names 𖹭 Face Sitting 𖹭 Face Riding 𖹭 Pussy Eating 𖹭 Tongue Fucking 𖹭 Anal Fingering 𖹭 Pussy Fingering 𖹭 Overstim 𖹭 Daddy Kink 𖹭 Nose Grinding 𖹭

[ A/N ] This wasn't fully proofread, so when I have time, I'll most definitely proofread this and make a few edits if needed. Also, this is my first time doing a yandere concept, so if anyone has any advice to give me, please tell me. One more thing, if you couldn't tell, I made this in a joking manner 🤭

You sat in a dark room with only your hands tied up behind your back and tape covering your mouth with only one light that brightened the small looking room.

Where the fuck am I? You thought to yourself as you looked around at your surroundings scared for dear life.

You were taking a nice walk around your neighborhood at midnight since the crime rates were low, and there was a one percent chance of a kidnapping like this. To say the least, you put up a good fight against the stranger, and before he could put the substance that made you faint over your nose, you got a faint look at him.

He was about 6'0 in height with long rosy pink hair styled in a mullet that reached down to his shoulders and downturned blue eyes with prominent eyelashes.

It was sad, you were part of the one percent, but before you could slowly lose your sanity, you took a few deep breaths and looked for anything you could break or untie the thick ropes with and with the grace of God you saw a sharp piece of glass beside you.

You quickly got the glass shard and scratched it against the brown ropes. It cut through nicely, and with a few more good cuts, you would've been free until you heard the door open while cutting.

You stopped and quietly dropped the glass behind you and scooted back to could sit on the glass so the kidnapper couldn't see it and then put your back against the cold wall to prevent them from seeing the half cut ropes.

Footsteps that were walking down the stairs were heard, and you looked up to see your kidnapper clearly as he wore permanent scarring on the corners of his lips, also having a tattoo on his right forearm and four piercings on each ear. The scared face man was looking down at you with a grin, and it wasn't a lie that this man was the definition of hot but you wasn't supposed to think like that because he literally kidnapped you.

But you could've made an exception, right?

"Well, Princess, looks like you're up." The man said as he bent down to get a better look at you.

He could see the anger that was filled behind your beautiful (e/c) eyes, and it made him let out a small chuckle, "What's wrong? I thought you had a thing for being kidnapped?" He said, which made you disoriented cause how the fuck did he know that?

You never shared the information with anyone, and it was something you enjoyed in your head, not in real life. Getting kidnapped and fucking your kidnapper was like something in a Wattpad fantasy world and from a fanfic you might have saw on there that made you secretly like it.

Maybe it was a guilty pleasure, but you kept it to yourself.

"I watch you every day, and I wonder how a woman like you can be so beautiful," He said in a calm tone.

You always had a feeling that someone was watching you but brushed it off because you thought it was your imagination. Assuming maybe you were just paranoid, every time the thought popped into your head, you would strip tease with the curtains open, then put up the middle finger before closing them. All this time, your intuition was right, and you were being stalked, but at least he looked good enough to be your stalker.

"So that's why when you finally let your guard down, I knew it was the perfect chance because you were practically begging for it." He finished off, making you question yourself.

You pretty much were begging to end up like this cause what in God's name would possess you to go for a walk at midnight when you already had a feeling of being watched.

He was a little right, but that alone shouldn't give him the opportunity to snatch someone up like this.

"So tell me y/n, is this what you've been fantasizing about?" He asked before realizing your mouth was taped up and instantly took the tape off, ready for an answer.

"No, it's not." You said bluntly, only making him laugh.

"Sorry I couldn't do better Princess, besides I didn't wanna hurt you~!" He said in a seductive tone that made him sound more hotter than he looked.

"So may we continue this little fantasy of yours?" The man said, lifting up your chin and his face inches closer to yours.

"I don't fuck strangers, pinky." You said straightforward enough to make his eyes widen.

"Well, where are my manners, the name's Sanzu, but for you, call me daddy." He said, making you turn away in cringe.

"I'm pretty sure sharing names is one way to get to know each other." He said in a sarcastic tone.

"N/n." You said, not wanting to give him your real name.

"See, we're not strangers no more." He smirked at you.

You couldn't lie, he made you want to make him an exception from the way he talked to the way he looked. It felt wrong to live in a Wattpad fantasy, and now was like a chance to take it, even though it meant throwing your morals out the window.

I mean you only live once, right?

"Untie me then." You said, making him look at you with amusement.

"Give me a reason to." He said.

"Come closer." You teased as he obeyed your command, getting closer, inches to your face.

You let your intrusive thoughts take over and saw this as an opportunity to kiss him, and to your surprise, his lips were soft and tasted like strawberries.

The kiss deepened as he reached something out his back pocket, and you felt the ropes get cut. Your hands were free, and you put one of them on his face, cupping his cheek.

His hands found their way to your waist, and he slowly laid down on the floor with you following his moments. At this point, you both were making out while you were lying on top of him.

Your lips separated so you both could take a breath, "Ride my face, Princess." He demanded, making you take off your shoes, then your baggy pants along with your panties.

You moved up to his face and hovered over him with your legs planted on the ground and your bare cunt on display for him to vividly see.

From his view, he thought it looked sexy how he could see your wet pussy and that itself indicated you were enjoying yourself which was true. You liked this moment of sitting on his pretty face and letting him eat you out for your pleasure. Even though you could think of anything better than this, it would probably be one of your top five.

You couldn't wait for him to fully take in the view and instantly sat on his face, not letting him see one glimpse of light. When you suddenly felt his tongue giving you kitten licks on your clit it sent shivers down your spine. The way his wet and warm tongue swirled over your puffy nub made you see stars.

He rubbed two fingers in between your slit and circled over your hole, then put the two fingers in before he started going in and out of you at a slow pace. Adrenaline was coursing through your veins not only because you were sitting on your kidnappers face but because this was your first time doing something like this. You actually were living a fantasy that you had been thinking about for days.

You were even lucky enough to have a kidnapper that was exactly your type as well.

Sanzu's fingers started from a slow pace to a much faster tempo while he was eating you out like he hadn't eaten for days. His mouth is attached to your clitoris sucking on it while his tongue is licking over the nub with your honey like moans, giving him more enthusiasm.

He loved how you had a grip on his pink hair in your hands, grinding on his face. You wanted this man so bad because how he was treating you and your pussy.

He unattached his mouth to your clit so he could insert his fingers in then he took them out and went back to sucking your clit. His other hand was positioned on your ass and moved up your back, pushing it down to make you arch your back.

The middle and ring fingers he wet circled your second hole, and he gently slid his middle finger in your ass. This made your breath hitch before he started moving his finger. After he started moving one, he added the second digit and went a little faster. The feelings that you were feeling were unfamiliar since you never did this before.

It was a mixture of a weird pleasure you couldn't really explain and as his fingers moved through your asshole his tongue went back to your pussy, this time sliding it in your hole. He grind his tongue inside of you which made his nose brush your clit so you grinded harder against his nose to receive more friction.

"Daddy, I'm about to cum." You managed to moan out making Sanzu dick get hard. The thought of you coming on him was now drilled into his head, and he wanted it more than ever.

Sanzu worked faster through your filled holes, giving you permission to come on him.

Your head hung low with a medium blush covering your face while your hands stuck to the floor for leverage, but your arms were already feeling they were about to give out.

The ecstacy the man was giving you pushed you to your limit, and with some strokes of his mouth and fingers, your cloudy white orgasm coated the lower part of his face.

Your legs were trembling from how hard you came, and the feeling was getting better when Sanzu started licking your abused pussy more.

After he was done, he took his fingers out of your asshole before leaving sweet kisses on your pussy then lifting you up by your waist moving you to the side with no struggle.

You looked at the man downturned blue eyes that were hiding under his pink lashes, and then your eyes roamed down to his pants where you saw a large clear white stain in the middle of them.

"Did you—?" You questioned him, making him look at you.

"You tasted so good I couldn't help myself." He said, sitting up from the cold floor feeling discomfort from the cum that was in his boxers.

"Alright, get up. I'm gonna take a quick shower, and then I'll take you home." He said, getting off the floor and gathering your clothes and shoes to give them to you.

You put your clothes back on and stood up watching him go upstairs, which made you follow behind him. You looked at the windows, seeing that the sun was already coming up.

"I'm not doing anything special, so can I stay for a little?" You asked receiving a stare from the man.

In all honesty, you really weren't doing anything special since today was luckily your day off, and usually you would be in bed strolling through your phone.

"Mmmm..." He sarcastically thought about the question for a long time then looked back at you, "No, I'm busy today." He said, making you sigh.

"Please." You begged with your hands clasped together.

The man then let out a long exhale and finally gave in, "Fine, whatever." He rolled his eyes.

"I knew I could make you give in." You said as your tone got seductive and your eyes went low.

You then moved in front of him and yanked the tie that was connected to his blue suit, making him jerk down, giving you this opportunity to kiss him.

Suddenly, you felt yourself get lifted as the kiss had gotten deeper, "You can't get enough of me now, can you?" He said, breaking the kiss with a smirk plastered on his face.

"I guess not." You replied with the same smirk as his before kissing him once more.

[sundemonlord]

Demi Human/God

If it were up to me, I wouldn't rely on people like I have to now.

I wouldn't be dependent upon others for my necessities. To live my life.

But nothing in nature exists alone. Everything has a counterpart, a compliment, a reflection.

I'm mixed Black and Greek. I was the only brown person in my immediate biological family. I was a stud lesbian -- there's a marked difference between being a masc brown lesbian than there is being white. Now I'm a trans man who is queer and weird af.

I'm gold colored. Light enough to gain privilege due to colorism. Dark enough to be seen as a nigger anyway.

I'm conventionally attractive. Except now I have a horrible skin condition caused by my anxiety meds.

I prefer my face looking like raw meat, tbh. It's more comfortable than only being perceived as a pretty face and people getting the wrong idea in that direction.

I'm always tired. Always angry. Always full of fear.

Because this world and its people have been mostly unkind to me. Though there have been enough rays of sunshine for me to keep a torch lit for humanity and its potential.

I can write. I can draw. I can sing. I can dance(?) I have a natural athlete's aptitude for most physical activities, including but not limited to:

martial arts

soccer

lacrosse

basketball

longboarding

archery (new!)

swimming (hella strong swimmer actually)

climbing (been a while since I climbed anything tbh)

Weightlifting

I've saved my own life a half dozen times just by virtue of having the mental, physical, and spiritual strength, reflexes, and resolve to do so.

I've done a bunch of different work in my short -- but also very very long -- time on this planet. From retail and restaurants to warehouse and manufacturing. I learned by dealing (poorly) with my disabilities and circumstances that I was highly capable of adapting and learning.

I learned how to deal with people, despite not being a people person.

I learned how to deal with machines, despite not being mechanically inclined.

I'm learning how to live in this world, even now, despite not being suited towards it.

Obviously, I am not suited towards it. Otherwise I'd have more to show for it than .. experience which has left me wise and exhausted. Wise enough to know how much I don't know and exhausted enough that I don't want to continue.

Yet I am compelled to continue. By forces within and outside of me which I cannot deny or ignore.

My entire existence has been colored by the spiritual and supernatural nature of reality. It has also always been subject to the mundane bullshit minorities like me have to put up with. Have been putting up with for hundreds of years now.

If it was up to me, this world wouldn't exist.

If it was up to me, this world would be infinitely better than it is currently.

If it was up to me, I wouldn't be asking strangers for help.

Especially considering the past, present, and possible future of all these things.. how it's looking, as of now?

Yeah, if I had the power/money, I would be an avenger level threat. If I had the resources so much would be different.. it would be like a fantasy more than anything.

But I have to ask people for help and for money.

Because people cannot be normal about my existence or of those like mine.

Because people won't hire someone like me.

Because this world sucks more than I ever could. And many of the people in it do, too.

So, if you've made it this fucking far, I'd really appreciate a hand.

It would be nice to never have to ask for help again.

But. Well. What did God make creation for anyway? What sort of life would we have if nothing was so interrelated and dependent on one another? Without beautiful diversity such as this?

It would be no Life at all.

venmo: @torchport

cashapp: $onepeaceman

Edit: if you think I'm NOT disabled bc of what I've wrote here CONGRATS you're wrong!

I've got a lot of shit wrong with me and my mind/body has been beaten into the ground by me/others denying the fact I'm disabled

Continuing into the present day!

Edit II: there's a lot of shit I haven't written here about what I know and what I'm capable of. What I've experienced and what I've learned.. Tbh at this point I don't see much use sharing what I've created or more of myself than this bc most people have shown me they don't accept me BC OF THEIR OWN HANGUPS

Thanks for coming to my ted talk

[uselesssomebody]

𝕗𝕠𝕦𝕣𝕥𝕙 𝕠𝕗 𝕛𝕦𝕝𝕪 (𝕝𝕝)- neighbor!joel miller x reader (pre!outbreak)

complete masterlist | joel miller masterlist

"𝕚 𝕟𝕖𝕖𝕕 𝕪𝕠𝕦 𝕚 𝕟𝕖𝕖𝕕 𝕪𝕠𝕦, 𝕓𝕒𝕓𝕖 𝕝𝕚𝕜𝕖 𝕚 𝕟𝕖𝕧𝕖𝕣 𝕟𝕖𝕖𝕕𝕖𝕕 𝕒𝕟𝕪𝕠𝕟𝕖" - you can be the boss | lana del rey

words || 𝟞.𝟠𝕜

summary || in which the reader and joel don't speak for a few months

previous part || fourth of july (I)

a/n || this is very feral but badly written smut; bad combo, man ➵ it's exam szn so me posting will be sporadic i can't lie. ➵ experimenting with the accent, tell me what y'all think ➵ same disclaimer: there is an age gap in this story !! if that makes you uncomfortable, i have many other non-age-gap fics you can browse on my page. reader is like 27 and joel is like 36. he's not old, though he is mentioned as such because he's old compared to her. also canonical dilf ➵ not edited (yet) ➵ i've been on a bit of a pascal spree and am thinking about writing for javier pena, frankie morales, agent whiskey and din djarin whenever i find time to update, so ➵ send me requests if you have ‘em. enjoy!

warnings || fluff/smut/bit of angst➵ unprotected p.i.v. ➵ oral (f receiving) ➵ fingering ➵ cum ig (tell me if i miss anything)

it was nicky’s first day of school. that was how much time had passed.

she adjusted her hair in the mirror for a moment, as her sister wrapped up her lunch and placed it neatly into a bag. as she came down the stairs, she had a distinct pep in her step, practically waltzing into the kitchen before she sat to eat her breakfast.

“someone’s excited!” nicky nodded at her sister’s accurate assessment, as she scarfed down the scrambled eggs on her plate. her sister watched her fondly, handing her some water, and then a napkin, before sitting opposite her.

the two sat, conversing in between nicky’s bites: nicky was telling her about all the things that she’d heard from sarah about the school, and her sister was listening adamantly, only interrupting her in order to remind her to chew her food.

when she was done, she grabbed her bag, kissed her sister on the cheek, and opened to door to meet her friends, making her way to the bus stop just a few doors down. her sister looked up to see the neighbor opposite them looking over the group with a similar smile on her face, as her daughter goes to join the group as well. she waves at her, and the neighbor smiles back.

they’d been in the neighborhood for a few months, and she found the people around her to be simply a part of her routines - waving at jerry the postman, greeting martha and john when either left for work, or spending a few minutes each afternoon petting the pinscher that the marriots had gotten when his daily walk passed her lawn.

she was accustomed to it all. except for one little thing.

joel miller.

after that fourth of july evening, she felt as though he’d been avoiding her like the plague, always jetting in and out of the house at odd times in his pickup, and seemingly stuck to the confines of his place whenever she was outside, tending to the small plants on their lawn to keep it presentable and inviting. when she smiled at or greeted him, he’d give her a curt nod or a gruff good morning, before taking just slightly longer strides away.

it threw her for a loop completely, unable to understand how the man could go from the affection present in their moment of intimacy, to something as foreign as a stranger. for the first couple days, she found herself offended and a little insulted by the change in attitude, before it morphed into something more carefree as she came to the conclusion everyone comes to at some point in their life.

men ain’t shit.

joel miller should have woken up that morning to the sound of his alarm, but the late night he’d had to pull last night had rendered him half dead as he slumbered deeper into the morning.

it took sarah shouting for him, knocking at his door, and then tentatively stepping inside to grab his arm and physically lug him up. the pressure around his forearm made him groggily open his eyes and, seeing her impatient but amused face, he nodded with a groan, ensuring her that he’d be up in a moment.

sarah’s uncle tommy was eating out of their pantry as he plated her toast, handing the slices over to her as her father descended the stairs. he patted sarah’s shoulder as he passed her, and she mumbled a sarcastic good morning through her bites. tommy smiled at his brother’s barely-awake face as joel reached for his coffee.

“you look like shit,” he chides, as joel sips out of his large mug. he places it down, shaking his head as he grasps his food from tommy’s fingers, and placing it back where it belongs.

“and ya eat like shit, tom.” tommy’s expression turns exaggeratedly indignant, and sarah laughs as she see it. she places her plate into the sink as she wipes her mouth, and she sidesteps her father to grab her backpack.

“you don’t need to drop me off - i’m gonna head to the bus with nicky and some of the other girls.” joel’s curious expression peers over his mug, but, seeing sarah’s excited face as her eyes glanced to the windows to see if her friends had already left home, he smiles into the beverage.

“’lright.” she smiles, making a beeline for the door as he follows her to wave her off. “ya ready?” he asks, as she puts her sneakers on and, when she rises again, she nods, almost solemnly.

“i’ll see you tonight?” joel winced, scratching his head as he thought about how long he’d be on-site that day.

“i - i think so?” it’s not a statement, instead a question, but it makes sarah smile a little as she rolled her eyes, pulling her father into a goodbye hug. he squeezed her tightly, before opening the door for her and watching her walk over to nicky and her sister’s place.

when he looked up, he saw the younger girl exit her house, her sister in the doorway as she said goodbye to her.

she was wearing a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt, obviously also not having been awake for too long, but the mere sight of her makes joel adjust on the heels of his feet, straightening his back as leaned just slightly against the door way.

she was as gorgeous as two months ago, when he’d had the pleasure of seeing her in that much less. every time he saw her petting that one little dog, or meticulously looking over her flowers, all he wanted to do was hold her again.

but, of course, he realized how it looked: he was getting older; even sarah had started teasing him about it, and, well, she wasn’t. she may have had a type excluding men her age, but that wasn’t feasible - and joel had panicked after the realization that, though the sex was great, he wasn’t particularly capable of being much more than that for her without her having to sacrifice a likely healthier and more realistic relationship. besides, after his experience with sarah’s mother, he had always been worried as to what to do and how to handle future endeavors with women. so, he’d pretty much sworn off them.

that didn’t make it any easier when he had to pretend he didn’t care all that much about her when her gaze radiated in his direction.

tommy peeked out of the doorway, trying to see what had so keenly captured his brother’s attention. following his gaze, he sees the neighbor that sarah had been telling him about previously, and he suppressed a laugh as he looked between her soft, smiling figure and his brother’s ‘kicked puppy’ expression. he patted his chest as he exited the house, ready to start the car.

“don’t stare too much - y’already look like a creep.” joel blinked his thoughts away as he focused on his brother’s advice. he rolled his eyes, grabbing the car keys that tommy had somehow forgot and tossing them to him as he locked the door.

“stop runnin’ yer mouth, tommy.”

she found herself home alone so much more now. of course, she had work to keep her distracted, but she’d wrap up quickly, not having quite that much to do as she waited for her sister to come back and for her to routinely explain the events of her day. she’d subscribed herself to an almost-riveting nature show that would air in the afternoons, feeling her eyes focus and unfocus on the colorful videos of birds or the tense videos of predators and prey.

on the days the two girls wanted a bit of privacy, or maybe some quiet, they would head over the millers’ place, knowing that mr.miller wouldn’t be back in for another few hours

but when they didn’t, nicky’d tend to bring sarah back to hers for a bit. her sister was more than happy to accommodate the two girls, enjoying the company and finding a distinct amusement in their banter. sarah spent just as much time talking to her as she did nicky, mostly for - shockingly enough - cooking tips. she’d mentioned how often her father was out of the house, and how that owed to her sometimes becoming bored of the takeout that he or her uncle would bring, and that she would usually eat the leftovers from the next night.

when she suggested that she teach her some basic meals to add some variety to her dinners, sarah was more excited than expected. that enthusiasm, and the fact that she was a fast learner contributed to the both of them spending many a evening experimenting with some new meal that one of the three girls picked up. though nicky would usually listen in to the lessons, or help organize the correct ingredients or pans, she spent nearly as much time trying to swipe bites from practically each step of the cooking process, owing to sarah’s continued amusement, and her sister’s exaggerated annoyance.

truly, sarah had sometimes found it a bit lonely at her place, only really seeing her family when her father or uncle would sporadically pop-in as they’d forgotten some documents, or something like that. now, though, she was relieved that that loneliness didn’t occur as much, in the sweet company of her neighbors.

so, when she bid nicky goodbye a little early one night, as she’d had to go home and speak with her parents, she was shocked to find, as she unlocked her door, the dull sound of the t.v., followed by a mumbled greeting from her father. she turned the corner to the living room, and his tired form was sprawled over the couch, with a her-shaped spot next to him. she took the opportunity, sitting beside him as he gave her a quick squeeze, only half-paying attention to his surroundings.

“how was work?” she said it into the small space between her and her father, and, though she was quiet, her voice was loud in the near-silent house.

“amazing.” he whispered back sarcastically, making her smile.

“well, have you had dinner?”

“’ve ya?” he countered, and she shook her head, using his knee to lever herself up, heading to the kitchen. he quirked an eyebrow as his eyes followed her steps, “what’re ya doing?” she poked her head back into the hall between the living room and kitchen.

“making something to eat?” he had assumed that she was going to make a sandwich, so, when he heard her turn on the stove, he looked in her direction, confused. finally, he pushed himself up, heading towards her to see what she was doing.

she’d pulled out a few things as he leaned against the doorway, watching her.

“what’re ya making?”

sarah mumbles the name of the dish, mentioning how their neighbor had been polite enough to teach her the recipe, as she continues to move around the kitchen, meticulously following the steps that she remembered.

“well, d’ya want any help?” sarah shakes her head.

“you’ll throw me off,” she chided, making joel laugh.

over the next couple weeks, joel had had the pleasure of eating more home-grown food as opposed to the takout he’d practically been thriving off for the previous months, all at the hand of his daughter.

though he felt worried she’d overexert herself, he found her to be excitable as opposed to annoyed about the prospect, and he attempted to make it up to her by releasing her from a few of her other chores.

on one colder october evening, nicky comes back home a little earlier than usual, getting comfortable on the couch, to the shock of her sister.

“hey, nick? how was school?” nicky shrugged, fiddling with the remote, as she gestured for her sister to join her.

“it’s fine. i’ve got a math test next thursday.” her sister went to join her, letting nicky rest her head on her thigh, her eyes trained to the t.v.

“need any help with it?” nicky shook her head, the movement dragging over her sister’s thigh.

“actually, i wanted to ask: bea’s having a birthday sleepover at her place this friday. can i go?” suddenly, the affection clicked in her sister’s head. she’d done the same thing when asking their parents to go meet her friends, hoping the added sweetness would convince them to let her. of course, the same treatment wasn’t necessary with her, but it definitely didn’t hurt.

“sure, nick. where does she live?”

“closer to the city. her mom said she’d pick us up after school and take us there.”

“’lright, hun. get your bag set up well, okay?” nicky smiled at the confirmation, before sinking further into her sister and enjoying the movie she’d clicked on.

she has a meeting that afternoon, and it was her first face-to-face one since settling in austin. the company she worked for really pushed a work-from-home agenda, but, every quarter, they’d indulge in a conference in order to maintain good professional connections and ensure everything was running smoothly.

she was just slightly worried she’d be late, as she attempted to smooth down her blouse and skirt, struggling just slightly with the front of her heels not allowing perfect breathing room for her toes. she grabbed her purse as she stuffed an out-of-place clump of hair back into place. the light curls framing her face did a lot to add to the professional nature of her look, but one thing that would definitely not contribute to a professional first impression would be arriving late. she looks at the watch on her wrist as she exits her house, wincing as she tried to remember the direction towards the stop from where she’d have to catch her bus into the city.

from just a few meters away, joel’s placing his tools into the back of his truck, getting ready to head into the city for a job he and his brother had been called in on. he glances up when he hears the faint clack of heels on the pavement, and he nearly does a double take when he sees her.

sure, she’d been nice and dressed-up for that neighborhood barbecue, but nothing quite like this. he averted his gaze in a moment, remembering what tommy had told him the other day, but, when he sneaks another peek at her, he notices her confused impression.

“’re ya alright?” against his better judgment, he starts bridging the gap between them, calling her name, making her whip her head towards him.

she’s pretty sure she hasn’t spoken to him in, like, a month, so she can’t really look at his still-intense gaze, instead fidgeting with the strap of her purse.

“hmm? yeah, ‘ve just got this meeting to get to - honestly i’m running a bit late-” she can feel herself beginning to nervously ramble, so she cuts herself off.

“which direction are you heading in?” she finally looks up at him, shaking her head.

“into the city? i’m actually looking for the bus stop.” he gestures to his car.

“c’mon, i’ll give you a ride.” her mouth hangs open for a moment, shocked by the offer, before she shakes her head.

“no - joel, you don’t have to do that-”

“the buses come every 30 minutes, besides, i’m heading to the city anyways.” conflicted, she goes to disagree again, but decides not to. she allows him to accompany her to his pickup, and thanks him when he helps her into the passenger seat.

as he starts up the vehicle, she adjusts a little in her seat, suddenly feeling warm in the knowledge of her proximity with her neighbor.

“thanks, again, joel.” she mumbles, as he pulls out of his driveway.

“don’t worry about it, sweetheart.” she’s a little shocked by the reuse of the nickname, but doesn’t hate the feeling it reignites in her. joel, on the other hand, cringes at the slip of his tongue, reminding himself that this interaction was strictly in order to help his neighbor, and not the otherwise beautiful woman in his front seat, whose skirt he was trying very hard not to focus on, as he kept his eyes religiously on the road in front of him, “what’re ya all dressed up for?” he sniffs, an attempt at small talk as the danger of silence threatens to envelop the distinctly small space between them.

“oh - um, yeah. i’ve got this conference for work, and - well, have to look professional, y’know.” he hums in agreement, but his brow quirks.

“i thought ya work from home?” she glances over at him, confused as to how he’d known. though many things happened during that one evening together, she didn’t remember telling him that.

“yeah, i - the company has 4 conferences annually, to make sure everyone still remembers everyone, i guess.” his lips don the hint of a smile at the quasi-joke, “how’d - how did you know?” joel’s eyes trace over her expression for a half-moment, before returning to the road.

“i - sarah’s mentioned it.”

“oh, of course.” that silence creeps up on them once more, and it makes her swallow dryly, “um, nicky was telling me about this sleepover she’s got in the city,” she continues, “i assume sarah’s going, too?” joel nods, running a hand through his hair.

“yup - girl’s excited too. was shocked, she’s not the type to go to these things.” she smiles at the comment.

“nicky’s a bad influence.” she makes a joke, and he finally smiles, putting her at substantial ease.

“eh - ya make up for it.” he makes the comment lowly, and she wonders if she’s supposed to have heard it.

her breath stills, as she glances at his unemotive expression, as she wonders what the hell he means.

“wh - what?” joel’s eyes widen just slightly as he realizes the implication of his words.

“you’re - y’re a good influence, s’all i’m saying. with ‘er cookin’ now n’all.” his southern accent comes out heavily in his lightly flustered state, and she suppresses her laugh so as to not embarrass him further.

“right. she’s cooking for you too, now?” he nods.

“almost ev’ry night. damn good food, too.” she laughs at his aggressive praise for his daughter.

“i’m assuming nothing for friday, then?” he sighs, not really having thought about that.

“yeah, wonder how i’ll manage.”

her friday had started with a 4 hour call from 8 in the morning, fleshing out the plans for the upcoming quarter discussed briefly during her face-to-face conference.

after joel had dropped her off, he’d offered to pick her up as well, but she’d been insistent he not worry about it, citing he’d done more than enough for her already, and she’d instead taken a ride home with a coworker who, shockingly enough, lived in the same area as her.

she’d helped nicky set up her bag during the opening hour of her call, fixing her a hearty breakfast, and having over some money in the event of an emergency. she smiled at her young sister’s bubbly attitude over the prospect of her sleepover than night and, later, when she saw nicky meet up with sarah, she saw that same emotion plastered over the other young girl’s face.

her next few hours consisted of another two calls, a presentation for a meeting next week that she had to make, and maybe a grand total of a fuck ton of emails.

she had just the slightest hint of a moment of reprieve in the afternoon, so she spent a moment taking a breath of fresh air, stepping outside onto her porch. she glances to her right, almost instinctively, and she feels a distinct lack of surprise that his pickup wasn’t in the driveway. he really was out of the house a lot.

she remembered what he’d jokingly mumbled in his car when she’d mentioned sarah wouldn’t be home tonight: how would he manage? of course, she was sure he’d be just fine, but that didn’t stop her from feeling sympathetic at the, likely tired, man’s plight for what would likely just be leftovers of monotonous take-out.

knowing this, and knowing that she did technically owe him for the ride he’d given her, that night, she made a little extra for dinner, packing it up as she finished cleaning the kitchen before her own meal. she can see his car in his driveway now, just a little earlier than the long nights sarah would mention her father pull, and, with a steely resolve, she dons a sweater to combat the uncharacteristically cold night air.

after she’d knocked on the door, and was waiting for joel to answer, she wondered if this was a stupid idea. did it come as desperate? intrusive? assumptive? it wasn’t like they just did this, hell, they spoke for the first time in months just a few days ago. and since, it’d been realistically radio silent.

she tries to quell her racing mind. she was just being a friendly neighbor. it wasn’t like she was trying to get in his pants - again - right?

she’s snapped from her thoughts when he opens the door, donning just a solid grey shirt and sweatpants. she spends a half moment just blinking at his chest, before shaking herself out of it, smiling as she adjusted to look at him.

“hey - hey, joel. i never properly thanked you for the drive and i know sarah’s out so -” instead of fully explaining her presence, she opts instead to brandish the tupperware box with his assumed dinner, placing it into his slightly confused hands.

“i, you - ya didn’t have to do that.” his voice is a little hoarse, as if he hadn’t spoken in a few hours, and she looks away from him, suddenly embarrassed.

“i - i know, i just thought i’d -” she trails off, and he shakes his head.

“no - no, i really ‘preciate it. here, come in.” her eyes widened at his offer, assuming this to be a simple drop-off.

“oh - um-” she hesitates, “right, thanks.” she slides past his frame as he closes the door behind her.

she wonders why he’d be willing to let her in after placing so much distance in between them. he wonders why he’s opening himself up to temptation after trying so hard to avoid her.

they both come to the same conclusion: he’s just being a friendly neighbor.

he goes to set the dinner table for the both of them, placing the box on the kitchen counter, but, seeing the documents he’d haphazardly scattered on it this morning, he gestures to the couch.

“oh, shit,” she peers in to see if everything’s alright, and the lightly flustered look on his face makes her shakily exhale - though quietly. when he turns to her, she tries to smile, “uh - make yerself comfortable, ‘lright?” she nods as she resists the urge to peel off her sweater in the warmer house, knowing she wasn’t exactly wearing much under it.

she can hear the tinkering of plates in the kitchen, and she lets her eyes drift over the minimal but homely living room, the added decoration of a couple of sarah’s trophies on the mantelpiece being a sweet touch.

when he walked in with two plates, he was quick to tell her to turn something on, if she wished. she obliges, taking the plate he’d set for her, flicking through the channels until she found something, realistically, not remotely interesting. a few minutes into it, they eat in near silence.

“god, this is good.” he mumbles, not even attempting to praise her - moreso in observation. she laughs at the comment, looking back at him, as he attempts to fix himself up and properly appreciate her.

“thanks, joel.” they’re silent for another moment.

“ya didn’t have to do this f’r me, sweetheart.” he mentions, and she swallows.

he’s getting too comfortable with that nickname.

“i wanted to.” when she glances at him, he’s got the ghost of a smile in his expression.

sporadic conversation graced their meal, but the majority of it carried in silence. unknown to the other, both spent a long time stealing glances at the other, appreciating the way that the low light of the room accentuated their features.

finally, when she rose to place her plate away, she swiped his own empty one before he could tell her to sit down and act like an actual guest, taking them both to the sink. he follows her, the movie quickly abandoned as he places the rest of the food into his fridge.

she’s turned on the faucet as his back is turned to her, and he turns back to see her beginning to wash the few dishes in the sink.

“no - wait-” he goes to stop her but she brandishes a soapy hand to ward him off, laughing at his immediate recoil, “ya can’t-” he attempts to dissuade her from the action once again, but she’s not having it.

“joel - you’ve had a long day. it’s just one thing, isn’t it?” a silence falls over him, as he mulls over her words.

he’d not mentioned a thing about how long his day was - or how truly exhausted he felt on his way home. she just knew, and went the extra step of trying to make it that bit better for him. it’d been the same with the food she’d brought over: he’d not asked for it once, yet she felt compelled to do it simply through her caring nature. he thinks about how much she seems to care, and how upset he would feel to lose that, regardless of the taboo that their relationship would entail.

and he thinks about how much he missed caring about how she felt.

so, when she turned around, wiping her hands on the cloth beside her, she was shocked to feel the gentle tug of her body towards the kitchen counter, as joel’s warm hands grip her now lightly cold wrists. she’s shocked by the gesture, but even more shocked when she feels his hand on her cheeks, pulling her lips into his. it’s a languid motion, soft, and satisfying, as she allows the brush of her soft lips to graze the coarseness of his own.

she pulls away for a moment, if for nothing more than to breathe, and joel exhales, shaking his head.

“i’m sorry, sweetheart, i shouldn’t have-” she cuts him off by tipping her head forward, hungry to feel his lips against hers again. his beard tickles her chin, but she can barely pay it any mind, enraptured by the warmth of his body. she reciprocates the movement of his hands, pulling at his neck to press up more closely against him, as she felt his own gently holding and squeezing her waist. the cold of her hands sends a shiver up his spine, but the sensation does nothing to rival the jolts he gets when he feels her tongue graze against his own.

“fuck, joel. what’re we doing?” she mumbles it into the air above him as his head ducks into her neck, his chapped lips ghosting over the skin of her throat.

“m’sorry, sweetheart, le’me make you feel good?” it’s a question, but it doesn’t exactly wait for an answer as his teeth begin nipping the supple flesh of her barely exposed chest.

“i’ll - god, joel-” her breath’s just a little more labored now, and she’s itching for the wandering hands on her waist to meander their way further south.

knowing himself, he knows that there’s little chance he’ll have the patience to take her all the way upstairs, so, in just a moment of reprieve, he opts instead for the couch, not detaching himself from her form as he guided her there.

“c’mere, baby,” his voice is nothing over a whisper, but the licks of soft baritone grace it, making her immediately oblige, allowing him to pull her onto his spread legs over the couch cushions, the movie behind them providing a quiet ambiance, doing little to disguise the sounds of her soft gasps, and his rough exhales, as he eases her sweater off, pulling her chest into his fervent lips.

she can’t help the buck of her hips as his teeth pull as the supple skin of her chest and breasts, and she can feel his smile against her when he feels the grind of her hips over his. he can sense her desperation pique as he continues, so, taking hold of her back, he’s quick to set her down against the couch.

she’s a little shocked by the action, rising up on her elbows to see him beginning to unbutton her jeans.

“take these off for me, sweetheart,” it’s not a question anymore, and she finds her hands working faster than her brain can, sliding the fabric off her thighs and calves in one swift motion. he helps her the rest of the way, doing little to hide his fixation on her anticipating expression. when he’d finally removed the offending clothing, he looked down at her, taking her ankles in his hands and placing them over his shoulders. he doesn’t break eye contact, allowing her ragged breathing to be the only discernible noise to his ears as he lowered down towards her thighs.

she can feel the tension in muscles dissipate - though not entirely - when his lips finally make contact with her inner thigh, pulling her up by her hips just a bit to place her in a more favorable position to him. he kisses up the soft flesh of both her thighs, doing a immensely annoying job of teasing her just right.

“joel - joel, please.” she’s not ashamed to beg after the third time his lips choose to press against the corner of her panties, before swiftly switching to her other thigh.

“hmm? whad’ya want me to do sweetheart? wanna le’me taste this pretty pussy?” his casual tone is overshadowed by the nature of his words, and she feels her stomach churn at the direct statement. she can’t do much but nod, light ‘please, please - please!’s tumbling off her lips. it’s enough for him, though, finally obliging her as he pulls the fabric of her underwear to the side, letting a slight chill graze her exposed cunt, causing her to shiver.

when she feels his tongue lightly trace a circle over her clit, the tension of her muscles crash, making her let out a long, low, shaky exhale. it’s not a moment of reprieve, though, as his assault quickens, his tongue meandering over her slit with a passion - renewing that tension, though now in her core.

his pace switches between quick and languid at a moment’s notice, causing her body to be unable to release the tension in time, but to rather hold onto it for longer, staving off her orgasm with precision as his thumb pulls lightly at the apex of her cunt, putting pressure on - but not quite on - her clit as his tongue experimentally dipped in and around her dripping entrance.

he begins to speed up again, and it manifests in moans and whimpers spilling from her lips as she attempts to place a hand over her loud mouth, though, when he slows down for the umpteenth time, he heard a garbled sound fall from her instead.

“fuck - joel, please, don’t fucking tease!” her frustration had gotten the better of her, and it only increased when she felt him smile against her cunt.

“tell me what ya want, baby.” she swallows roughly, her thighs tensing just slightly against his head, before she lets out a shaky breath.

“please - please, let me cum.” for a moment, he doesn’t move, and she wants to scream at his lack of action, but that’s until she feels his clloused fingers against her thigh.

his mouth reattaches to her cunt, alternating between short, quick licks and sucking, as he eases two of his fingers into her, with little resistance. the added sensation against her walls makes her toes curl, her moans only growing louder.

her orgasm, already impending, suddenly feels as if it’s been increased tenfold by the drag of his fingers against a specific soft spot inside her, the movement of them in and out of her allowing them a way to find that spot each time. that, accompanied with his mouth’s renewed focus on her clit, makes her want to scream, and she does, as the tightened sensation in her stomach snaps, the tension building to her orgasm releasing with an aggressive sensitivity.

her moans are broken as he helps her through the feeling, continuing to slowly pump his fingers inside her, only stopping for a moment when he felt her thighs squeeze her with the might of a guinness strongman.

as she comes down from the sensation, she attempts to place her hands over her warm face, but he doesn’t let her, taking them off her to truly appreciate her flushed expression.

“good - good, really, really good-” she’s babbling quietly in an attempt to praise his effort, and it makes him laugh, rising up so that he can place a chaste kiss to her lips. she doesn’t allow it to be quick, though, allowing her mouth to indulge in the taste of herself, as opposed to continuing to mindlessly mumble. he groans at the action, not expecting her to be into it. pulling back to let her catch her breath, his lips flit over her neck, feeling her rapid heartbeat under the thin layer of skin, “joel, please - i-” she’s saying something, and it’s causing him to come back up to look at her.

though he can’t interpret it initially, when he feels the lazily roll of her hips against his again, he realizes what he wants, laughing lightly.

his laugh does little to quell her desire - instead, spurring it on, as her hands snake down his torso and towards the elastic of his sweatpants. he lets her hands work them down, pulling out his cock over the waistband of them, and gritting his teeth as her soft hand gently grips him.

“slow - fuck, slow down, there, baby-” she shakes her head adamantly.

“joel, fuck - i need you, now. right now.” she does little to disguise her thoughts, the small space between his cock and his cunt too much for her to think straight.

“’lright, sweetheart, ‘lrigt” he pulls his pants the rest of the way down, not removing her still, but exploratory hand, as, on her palm, rested his cock, her fingers grazing his inner thighs and balls. he props her up again, pulling her legs over his shoulders. though knowing she was definitely wet enough to accommodate him, it doesn’t stop her from spitting into her fingers, coating the tip of him in the makeshift lubricant, before adjusting so that he rested against her.

he tapped the tip of her cock over her clit, if for no reason other than to hear her squeak just one more time, before dragging himself down, and pushing in. she fights her urge to close her eyes at the sensation, wanting to really see him, but the feeling of it was almost too much, and she bit down on her tongue to keep quiet.

“don’t hide y’r sounds fro’me, sweetheart, let’t out, babygirl, let it out.” his accent’s thick in her ear as his hips meet her ass, and the soft order makes her mouth fall open, a low, quiet moan befalling her as she adjusted to the size of him. he practically filled every crevice inside her, the warmth of him enough to make her overheat as she tried not to focus on the increasingly sensitive feeling of his cock just lightly grazing against that one spot inside her.

“joel - move, god, i need you to move.” he doesn’t hesitate, pulling out slowly, the drag of his cock making her breath ragged. then, when he pushes back in, it’s just a bit harsher, owing to her squeaking.

“feel good, baby?” he mumbles it right into her ear as he thrusts in and out of her, his pace teetering between slow and aggressive, as if he were holding back.

“so - so good, joel, fuck, you make me feel so - good-!” she’s cut off when he readjusts and begins hitting another angle inside her, amplifying the feel of him significantly.

“that’s the spot, isn’t it, sweetheart? ya gonna be a good girl and scream for me?” he doesn’t even have to ask her, as her moans become unabashedly loud at the intensity of his new thrusts. the spur him to move just that bit faster, owing to her hands wildly grasping at his arms in an attempt to ground herself against the overwhelming sensation.

it doesn’t take long for that reignited tension in her core to beg for release.

“fuck, joel - i’m gonna cum, can i cum? please let me cum, please?” she’s begging him to keep going just like he is, and the honeyed pleas sound like the sweet music to his ear.

“that’s right, sweetheart, go ahead - cum all over me.” the approval pushes her over the edge, her legs shaking violently as her fingers dig into the muscle of his forearms. he want to slow down so as to not overstimulate her, but the feel of her pulsing walls wills him over the edge as well, pushing into her just a few more times, “whered’ya want me, baby?” he’s not sure if she’s able to answer him, but the lazy, gesturing hands towards her torso seem indication enough, as he pulls out of her, stroking himself to completion and spilling over the heaving skin of chest.

for a minute or two, they both catch their breath, before she feels him detach from her. she can hear his light footsteps into another room, and then the sound of a tap, before he reemerges with a damp towel. she’s sure she raises her hand to take it off him, but he ignores it, instead running the damp cloth over her himself. first, he cleans his own mess off of her chest, before lightly pressing at the flesh of her thighs and cunt, trying very hard not to stimulate her farther. the gentleness of his actions seems very joel miller-esque, she thinks, but not exactly akin to the man he’d been for the past few months.

she takes the towel when he’s done, returning the favor, before she speaks.

“didn’t think we’d do this again.” he winces at the implication of her words, stilling her movements as he pulls her cheeks to look up at him.

“i - i know, and i’m real sorry, sweetheart. ya know that, right?” she cups the hand against her face, smiling softly.

“of course i do. you think you’ll tell me why?” she wasn’t mad - just curious.

“i -” he trails off, before shaking his head, a humorless laugh escaping his lips, “why’d you think, baby? m’too old f’r ya.”

for a moment, she’s not sure she heard him right.

“what?”

“c’mon. you’re this gorgeous young woman - new to the neighborhood and everything. shouldn’t end up with someone like me. people’d talk.” she adjusts so that she’s closer to eye-level with him, taking both his hands.

“i don’t give a shit what other people say, joel - god, all anyone should care about is what i actually want.”

“but-” he goes to disagree, but she cuts him off with a soft kiss to his lips.

“i want you, joel miller. you’re the only person i want - i don’t give a shit about if you’re a little older, or my neighbor - anything like that.” he finally raises his eyes from the floor to look at her. the earnest expression on his face makes his resolve crumble, his contemplative expression morphing into a small smile.

“ya want to spend your nights me, then?” she rolls her eyes.

“and my mornings, afternoons and evenings.” the admission of them as so much more than just the fuck-buddy status that they currently have makes him grip her just a little tighter - a show of his affection, “really, our only problem is telling the girls.”

joel thinks about that upcoming challenge, wincing.

“that’s f’r t’morrow. tonight’s about you, sweetheart.”

[acespoliticalwaffles]

Finally got a call back from the autism assessment people. And what do you know? They said that insurance wouldn’t cover it so if we want to actually get me in to get tested it’ll be 4,000 US$ out of pocket. My parents said we can’t afford that right now.

This is what we mean when we say diagnosis is a privilege. Because in the US, it literally costs thousands of dollars for them to even look at you. And even if you can afford that, or your insurance will pay for it (most probably won’t), you still have to deal with doctors who have a very narrow view of what autism looks like, both in how it presents itself symptom-wise, and in how the people who have it look physically. If you do not fit the stereotype of Smart, but Socially Awkward White Boy, there is a chance they will reject you outright.

“Diagnosis is a privilege” doesn’t mean that only privileged people get diagnosed, or that your life must have been easy and perfect if you yourself were able to get one. It means that not everyone with certain conditions/disorders/neurodivergencies is able to get diagnosed with them for a variety of reasons that don’t include “they’re faking it”. And that is literally just a fact.

Like, seriously, what do people who think diagnosis isn’t a privilege think getting diagnosed is like? Like, with some disorders it’s much easier. I was diagnosed with depression the first day I saw my first psychiatrist. But most of the disorders they always claim people are faking (autism, adhd, did) are actually very difficult to get diagnosed with just because it takes so long and can often be very expensive. Like, I’ve literally been waiting to get diagnosed for almost half a year. And now they say they won’t even try unless we fork over $4,000. People who are against self-diagnosis are so fucking dense. Like, what do you want me to do? Say I don’t have autism because I couldn’t pay them to check??? Cause only rich people can have autism I guess./s

Knowing that I’m autistic has helped me understand a lot about myself that I didn’t before. It has helped me realize that some of my weak points (not being able to work with vague instructions, being very sensitive to criticism, etc.) have a reason behind them and other people experience them in similar ways. I am autistic. I do not have any doubts about being autistic. And I do not have to prove to strangers on the internet that I am autistic before I get to talk about my experiences with it without being relentlessly scrutinized.

Edit: Been seeing some ppl talk about this phrase in a way I hadn’t before and I want to clarify: getting diagnosed is not always actually good, especially when you’re very young and you don’t get to decide whether you want it or not. What I meant in this post is that access to diagnosis is a privilege. Hope that clears things up if you had questions. This was mainly meant to demonstrate that ppl who are against self-dx need to get their facts straight. I’m not actually here to talk about the privilege aspect very much either (I didn’t realize there was discourse there), but in short: it’s complicated, but it is often a result of some privilege that ppl are able to get diagnosed, especially later in life. I also want to make it clear that it’s very valid to not want a dx. I actually went back and forth on it myself bc of all the fucked up laws and discrimination and stuff. (Which is yet another reason self-dx is valid and sometimes the best option) So yeah. Idk, just wanted to make it clear what I’m trying to say.

[malicious-vampire]

(Since Tumblr decided to make it impossible to edit an ask that's been saved as a draft, I'm forced to cite it here)

@schizocadaver asked:

"I'll place this as an ask rather than just going straight into messaging you as it feels most correct to me. I've been suspecting for a while that I might have szpd and possibly npd so I was wondering if you might be able to share on your experience of having both and what that's like"

Hello and thanks for the ask! This is a lot since these PDs affect my whole life in various aspects, so I'll try to break it down to the most obvious things, or those that I deem most important. NPD and SZPD complement one another quite well, though there are also some huge difficulties.

For a start, I take incredible pride in my solitude. I prefer spending my time alone and turn to activities I can do on my own, because I hold the core belief that most other people are beneath me and not worth my time or energy. It's also a lot easier to feel godlike and untouchable when you're not perveived by anyone other than yourself - which can also become a problem once I go outside and have to deal with the fact that I can make mistakes and that other people will take notice of that.

I'm a misanthrope and I don't trust anyone. While I do have a few close friends who I care about, I cannot spend more than a few hours at once with them or I'll get annoyed by their presence. Strangers usually disgust me, so it's hard to make any new acquaintances. I do have a perfect pokerface and though people always describe me as friendly and empathetic, I can't form any real emotional connections to anyone. It's like a thin veil or a pane of glass between me and others. Because of that, I never share much about myself. I hate intimacy, both physically and psychologically. Even my closest friends who I've known for years only know me on a surface-level, and sometimes it feels lonely to have no one who truly sees me. It's bittersweet.

On the upside, I can get along really well on my own. I don't want to be around people all the time and I have enough hobbies to keep myself busy and productive without having to rely on anyone else. On the downside, I quickly get bored. Humans require at least a little bit of socializing to function properly, so it's impossible to be truly alone and happy all the time. Therefore I occasionally get a sudden and brief craving for attention, which is difficult to get in that moment when one spends most of their time alone. Then I turn to reckless (sometimes self-harming) behavior or I start spiraling and drown in self-pity, which leads to more isolation and more depression (narc crash). I'm currently working against that by trying to establish a schedule where I get to meet my friends 0.5-1x a week to have enough outside-supply but still primarily inside-supply (e.g. making art and music, studying and turning to other solitary activities).

Part of the reason why social encounters are so exhausting for me is that I mask heavily, even around my family. I intentionally crafted my mask to fit every situation I'm in and I constantly try to adjust it by observing other people's behaviors and matching my emotional reactions (I've heard people describe my personality and it differed a lot depending on the social group, and often wasn't even close to who I actually am). So at least half of my daily energy is wasted on performance.

Additionally, my most present emotions are anger and hate. Since I think very highly of myself, I get offended easily and rarely forgive anyone. This includes myself - if I make a mistake or fail at something, it feels like my chest is about to burst from rage, and it's difficult to calm down. I've been fantasizing about torturing and murdering people on a daily basis for years, partly as an outlet for anger and partly just for fun.

I automatically hide most of my emotions to the point where I'm unable to express happiness or surprise the way neurotypicals do. In general, I rather enjoy thinking rationally and despise emotional reactions as they never really help solving a problem. I may seem cold and apathetic when unmasked, and I often get confused trying to identify my own emotions.

That's all I could think of for now. Spending a lot of time alone gave me the chance to do a great amount of self-reflection, which isn't always nice as I tend to overanalyse everything, but it helps to get a better understanding of myself and my relationship to others.

I hope this small insight helps - Let me know if something's not clear or if you have any other follow-up questions!

[glitterypin]

STORY TIME!

I had a friend. We weren't very close but we were friends, not just acquaintances. For a few years I lived in a different city and whenever she was in town, we'd get coffee. One time she actually stayed at my place. We'd known each other for nearly seventeen years and had been friends for about twelve of these. Last year she came to my birthday party, had tremendous fun, thanked me for inviting her (I was like 'why the fuck wouldn't I invite you').

So, last December, it was her birthday and she decided to throw a small celebration at a restaurant not far from the place where I worked, on a Sunday. And she invited me.

But, that was around the same time my Big Clusterfuck Of A Job started getting really stressful and I was doing overtime like crazy and working during the weekends and I was basically an animated corpse who only came alive when placed in front of the editing suite, so when the time came, I didn't actually want to go. I had worked until Saturday and Sunday was going to be my one day off and I wanted to sit at home in my pyjamas and sleep and do nothing. I didn't want to socialize with strangers (her other friends) and I didn't want to essentially ride the same fucking bus to work on my one day off.

So, I knew I didn't want to go at all but I was still trying to persuade myself to just suck it up and go because I didn't want her to be disappointed. However, as I got home from work on Saturday, I did send her a message telling her I'm dead on my feet and I may not make it the next day. I said I'd try but there was a chance I wouldn't make it.

Long story short, she flew off the handle, started very aggressively insisting that if I truly wanted to go then I would make it, so if I didn't make it it's because I don't care about her and the rest is just excuses and she refused to take note of my feelings on the matter at all. My main argument was "I am dead tired, my job is kicking me in the balls and I need to fucking rest for one day because that's all I have" and her argument is "it's only once a year, I don't know what else to tell you".

And then she blocked me.

It was so fucking important to her that I attend her birthday that when I said I wasn't sure if I'd make it, she BLOCKED ME. Apparently, not going to her birthday dinner is the same level of harm to our friendship as BLOCKING ME. Mind you, we don't even have each other's phone number because we always made plans through messenger, so she blocked what was literally out only way of communication.

I was livid for a while but also somewhat relieved because if you're going to be one toxic, messy, tantruming child of a trainwreck, then, yes, please go be that somewhere far away from my life. So irrational and immature was her behaviour that I couldn't really find it in me to miss her afterwards and I was mostly angry that I ever fucking bothered with this person.

And then I moved on. This was eight months ago.

Half an hour ago, at 2 in the fucking morning, I got a text from her. She has unblocked me and she sent me a message that basically boils down to "hey, it wasn't a big deal, I just felt that you weren't up to hanging out with me, I hope you're doing well", smiley face.

EIGHT FUCKING MONTHS LATER

AT TWO IN THE MORNING

SHE TEXTS

AND SHE DOESN'T EVEN FUCKING APOLOGIZE?

instead she says that she felt I wasn't up to it? that it was somehow down to ME that she blocked me? because I didn't go to her fucking birthday dinner? (mind you, I haven't mentioned this so far but it's important to note that this woman is in her FORTIES. she's not twelve or anything.)

When God rained intelligence on the world, was she holding a fucking umbrella??

So, the big dilemma for this week is "should I deign to answer" and so far I think "better not" because I have a feeling my answer is going to be along the lines of "go fuck yourself, you self-centered twat" and that's not a nice thing to say at all...

[tea-with-evan-and-me]

(request for meeting Evan at a wedding. I'm not sure if this will be super long or in parts yet, but I think it's a good time to incorporate car sex? Yea. So, here goes nothing. Hope you enjoy!) edit: decided to do parts.

Part 1: my big fat bad attitude

"Bartender, can I please get something fruity and I will slip you 5 bucks if you make it strong for me" I wink at him. He's kinda cute when he smiles.

"Sure thing, darling"

Oh, boy. This is going to be a long night.

I'm at my cousin Megan's Lake Tahoe wedding. The weather is perfect this time of year for having an outdoor wedding. This one happens to be absolutely amazing. Fairy lights adorn the white canvas walls of the tent. The dance floor is beautiful with lights and flowers. The food and the DJ is awesome. The ceremony was stunning next to the lake. My cousin is stunning too.

She was so excited for me to attend because, aside from her parents and brother, most of my family was not going to make the trip from the Midwest to California. I figured this was a good opportunity, not only for a well deserved vacation featuring a destination wedding, but also because I was seriously thinking about looking for work while I was here. I needed a fresh start.

My aunt and Uncle said they would hold onto the place they had rented for my cousin when she moved out here for a few more months if I wanted to explore my options in LA. They knew my circumstances and are super generous people. Megan, of course, has already vacated the rental and moved in with her now husband. I get a pang of panic that my cousin, who is 13 years younger than me, is married now and I have been gutted and tormented by my supposed soon to be husband.

He was supposed to be here with me. We were supposed to get married in the fall. But, two weeks ago, I forgot an important document at home and went back to get it. That's when I walked in on my fiance fucking some bimbo from behind on the rug by our living room fireplace. My thoughts went from shock to smirking about the rug burn she's more or less already feeling on that carpet by now. I know it all too well. Back to shock and then seething anger. They didn't realize I was there cause they were so loud and he was pulling her hair. She sounded like a valley girl when she moaned and I thought how annoying that must sound to him. I cleared my throat and they both yelped and jumped a literal foot off the ground. The clumsiness of it all had me hysterically laughing. I was afraid to stop because I might have ended up going to jail that day if I did. She was his secretary. I made some joke about it not being 1950 anymore and told him to get the actual fuck out of my house. Now, here I am at this beautiful wedding and feeling like absolute trash.

The bartender hands me a tequila sunrise. I take a sip and it makes me choke a little. Perfect. I hand him a 10 dollar bill and tell him I'm gonna trust he will keep his excellent skills up for the remainder of the evening. "Anything for you, beautiful." Yea, yea. Keep it in your pants.

I turn on my heels, feeling giddy about my soon to be drunken state when I nearly collide with a handsome stranger. It was like a slow motion scene in a movie as we both try to grab the drink and right it before it crashes to the ground and shatters. He succeeds, although half of my drink splashes out the sides. Mostly landing on the floor. Some landing on his white shirt that, I now notice, is hugging his broad shoulders and muscular chest. It's now stained pink. We are both holding onto the to glass. Tequila covering our hands. Our hands are touching and we both have a surprised look on our faces. After a beat we both realize what we must look like and start laughing.

"Here, you got it?" He asks, kindly.

"Yea, Thanks." I say letting out a tiny chuckle

He walks over to the bar and grabs a stack of napkins. He makes sure he wipes down my glass and our hands and then cleans up the floor as best as he can.

"Dammit, I'm really sorry. Let me know when you are ready for another one and I'd be happy to grab it for you"

"Oh my gosh, no worries" I wave my hand at him as if to say no big deal.

"At least it's an open bar, right?" He smiles and I notice his dimples for the first time.

All I can do is nod my head. Fuck, he's gorgeous. Ok, thoughts go away. You are in no position to date right now. Politely excuse yourself. My brain is sensible. My vagina is not. I can feel that familiar pressure when you get turned on. Sigh. Oh well.

"Well I'm sorry your shirt is stained. You aren't in the wedding party, are you?" I ask.

"Oh, no. Just a friend of the groom. I'm not worried about it. I can always put my jacket back on. I'm just glad it didn't get on your pretty dress." He realizes he blurted that out and shakes his head. Blushing. Fucking adorable. I notice the style of his curly hair. It reminds me of something I can vaguely remember.

"Do I know you from somewhere?" I suddenly blurt out the question.

He gets kinda anxious. "Possibly. I'm an actor. My name is Evan."

"Wait, are you the actor that volunteered at the homeless shelter downtown and gave the kids acting lessons? My cousin volunteered there and that's how she met her husband."

He nods his head "Uh, yea. Yep. That was me" he says shyly.

"Megan told me how everyone was swooning over how sweet you were with the kids. That you were really patient and they looked forward to your class weekly. That's really amazing. I couldn't stop thinking about that after she told me."

He blushes and turns his head.

"Yea, I had to go away for work and then I just didn't have time anymore. I do miss it. It was fulfilling."

I smile and nod my head in approval "Very cool. Well, Evan, I'm Andrea and it's super nice to have splashed my drink on you. Maybe I will see you around."

"Ha! Nice to meet you too. Have a good night!"

I take my annihilated drink to my seat and I sit down and take a breath. Wow, that was...interesting.

______

"Hey Cousin!! Andrea!!" I hear my name over the loud music and look up. Megan is standing on the dance floor motioning me to come out. I start to get up when she holds her bouquet out and I realize a second before the DJ speaks that there is about to be a bouquet toss. Bonus. I sit back down and shake my hands in a "no thanks" gesture. That prompts my 5'2" cousin, dressed in her ball gown and stiletto heels, literally climb over a chair, march up to me, grab me by the hand and pull me to a standing position. "Get your motherfucking ass out there." Shit, she's a strong little thing. Yes ma'am.

Once I'm out on the floor and Megan's back is turned, I step out of the group and as far off to the side as I can. This, however,doesn't work. Did I mention she works with kids? Yea, she must have eyes in the back of her head. Because fuck if that bouquet doesn't shoot right at my face so hard I would have had to duck if I didn't have cat-like reflexes. Goddammit.

I catch it and hold it up with the most fake smile I could muster on my face as everyone cheers. My cousin walks by me and I swear I hear her mutter "fucking right" under her breath. As I'm walking back to my seat I catch a glimpse of the handsome, not so stranger, stranger standing between two tables smirking at me. I quickly look away and walk straight to the bar. Cute bartender winks at me and I ask if I can just get a straight shot of tequila. He hesitates, but only for a minute when he sees my face. He starts to pour it.

Just then they call the guys up for the garter toss. I'm thinking to myself that it's such an old fashioned thing to have at your wedding and why is she doing this to me, when the groom tosses it and I see a big veiny hand shoot up into the air and snatch it. What. The. Fuck. Evan turns in a circle until he finds me standing up at the bar and then holds his arm up, clutching the garter. I swear under my breath and smile at him. The DJ then asks if the bouquet and garter winners could kindly come to the center of the dance floor. Shit, fuck, I mutter. Then I grab my tequila, cheers it in his direction, and shoot it down.

(I will get to the next part sometime this afternoon!)

oh heyyy there 👀

[ballsballsbowls]

Saw a post the other day talking about a fic author who is very upset to know that people are talking about their fic in Private Exclusive Discord Servers and they feel "excluded" and it makes them want to write less. I obviously do not want literally ANYONE who'd participate in that discussion on tumblr to see what I have to say, which is going to lump fic and published books together, because I am one on those mean meanies who HAS a private discord book club of sorts and we do both published books AND fic.

Besides not being sure there's any relation between "talking about stuff you're reading on discord" and not openly leaving comments or reviews or anything on the works themselves, which feels a little "every pirated copy of my song is someone who would have purchased it and I have actively lost the cost of the album for every single download." (And it's deeply, unquestionably fucked to say outright that people should blame themselves if you quit writing because they didn't comment enough.) Part of the reason I went from talking about books I read on tumblr in extremely coded language to not discussing them at all is because when there's no private internet places anymore, the only people who truly lose are the people who want to complain about things, even a little tiny bit.

To be clear, all references to "criticism" from here on in will NOT mean, "The author should be sent to break rocks on a penal colony on the moon so they never have a chance to write dogshit like this again," we're talking "This was good but they need better editing." Or a "This was fun but it was 10k too long" sort of criticism that balances "I read this to completion and it was a net good and I enjoyed it" vs a mild but understandable critique.

You are Not Allowed to have even tepid criticism of a work on AO3 (or in reviews on indie books) because The Author Might See It, and you don't know whether they will vague about you or blame you for them not writing x thing. There's always another Indie Author harassing people who leave reviews that are even marginally negative.

You are Not Allowed to collect fics to recommend to other people using AO3's bookmark feature if you leave mediocre notes because The Author Can See It.

You are Not Allowed to have a middling review on social media because The Author Will See It. If you set it to private, someone will screencap it and email it to the author.

If you compile book or fic recs where people can see it, some stranger (rarely the authors) will take umbrage with your choices. Then you either get hate mail or someone will email them to your boss.

I don't want people hounding me and I don't want people mad at me, so I moved everything to a more private venue. I comment and review when the spirit moves me, but I think long and hard about whether the review could be construed as negative and keep it to myself if it does. I can control who is seeing what I have to say, and these are people I trust implicitly to have my best interests at heart and know that an opinion like, "I don't know why they bothered with sex scenes at all" will be taken at face value.

Besides there's only so many times I can discuss a book on tumblr and pretend it is a book titled "Half Vampire Half Angel All Stupid" and lampshade the plot points so it's not recognizable because god forbid the author has a tumblr and sees me saying that their book's incredibly bad and that I read the entire thing.

If knowing people are discussing your work in a discord that you're not allowed in turns you into a shivering critter in a Sarah McLachlan ASPCA commercial, I'm not sure what to tell you, other than, whether you are writing for fun or for money: I genuinely think that people who liked your stuff should comment/review more

and I also think our lives were both made worse when every place I could go on the internet to say "I spite-finished their new work but I didn't care for it. I'm going to read the next one once it's out and see if I hate it less" disappeared so that I am forced to have this convo right within earshot of you. I think that hurts us both.

[doueverwonder]

@rosethreeart 45 min!! This is not edited at all and the plot is crappy I'm sorry--

Pairing: Netherlands x Fem!America

Warnings: None

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

Abigail loved very few things more than rainy days, unfortunately one of the things she did love more than rainy days was Lars. He hated rainy days, spending the whole day mumbling about the mud getting tracked inside. This left Abby at a crossroad, one that met at the window. She wanted to go outside very badly, but also knew that she would, as always, forget to take her shoes off when she came inside; then Lars would be stressed about the mud on his perfectly clean floors. 

Lars hated rainy days, no matter how many of them there were he didn't like them. However, he knew his girlfriend adored them, he liked his clean floors though and didn't want to make her feel bad about getting mud inside. 

This brought him here, he had gone out for groceries partially as an excuse, and went against his every instinct as he came inside and purposefully did not take his shoes off as he went into the kitchen. 

Abigail on cue came sliding into the kitchen, Lars knew she would act as if they hadn't seen each other in twenty years even if he had only been gone thirty-five minutes at most. 

"Hey sweetp-" Abigail stopped dead in her tracks noticing the very obvious tracks on the ground, a little too obvious. "You'll have to mop later won't you?"

He pretended to be surprised as he looked down at his shoes, "I suppose I will" 

Lars could have sworn her shoes and jacket materialized, as not another word left his mouth before she was dragging him outside. Abigail was much shorter than Lars, which usually left her a step behind, but this time he was the one trying to keep up. 

"Abby! I have to get the umbrella" 

She stopped in the middle of the sidewalk, her face tilted up to the sky. "You don't need the umbrella, just feel the rain!" 

"What does that mean?" 

"It means exactly what it means" she shook a little, the heavy rain already gathering in her hair. She started down the sidewalk, clearly headed for their normal walk route; "We don't need the umbrella" 

Lars ran his hand over his hair trying to push it out of his face as it was already losing its shape, "Everyone else has umbrellas" 

"And we don't, cause we're not scared of a little water sweetpea" He blushed at the nickname, slightly out of embarrassment as they passed more people. Abby smiled, "Hey honeycakes?" 

Lars blushed harder using the excuse to pull his coat collar higher; "Hm?" 

"How come you're allowed to use nicknames for me in public, but when I do it you pout?" 

"It's different" he finished adjusting his collar grabbing her hand again. 

"How is it different?" she swung their arms a little, as they continued on. He shrugged, half nodding at a stranger as they passed them. 

"Is it because you're embarrassed?" 

"I am not embarrassed" 

Abigail hummed, "I think you are," she was just teasing him for the fun of it by this point. "I think you're embarrassed for the average bypasser to know that you have a girlfriend" 

"What about this?" He held their hands up a little, trying to show her he was not embarrassed. "That means nothin' plenty of friends hold hands, especially in such slippery conditions" she poked her tongue out, just to annoy him as another person looked at them. 

"Then what about this" he checked to make sure no one would run into them before picking her up and kissing her, Abigail laughing into the kiss as she wrapped her arms around him. Lars set her down only when realizing someone needed to get by them. He blushed hard as they walked for another moment, mostly just to get away from the people giving them odd looks. 

"Can we go home now?" 

"Mhm!" 

"Good, i'm soaked, and the groceries got left on the counter" 

Abigail shrugged, "We've only been gone twenty minutes, they'll live" she smirked as they rounded the block corner, "I still think you're embarrassed that I call you sweetpea" 

"Stop"

[kitausuret]

Second half! 39 Share a snippet from a WIP, 42 What’s the last fic you read? Do you recommend it?, 58 What part of the writing process do you enjoy the most? (Brainstorming, outlining, writing, editing, etc) 65 Tell us about what you’re most looking forward to writing – in your current project, or a future project, and 71 When it comes to more complicated narratives, how do you keep track of outlines, characters, development, timeline, ect.?

39. Share a snippet from a WIP

I deliberately waited to answer this ask so I could share this.. this thing I began. I can't even explain it:

-----

He laid the ten-dollar bill on the table. "This man is Alexander Hamilton. Not a president. And neither was—"

"—Benjamin Franklin," Flash finished. "On the hundred. But no one around here is carrying hundred dollar bills and walking into this bar, big guy."

"Oh, he's smart, Eddie," Anne said with an amused raise of her eyebrows. 

"And," Flash added with a wink, "good at pool."

The man scoffed again, less derisive this time. "Do you make a habit of propositioning strangers at billiard clubs?" 

"Only for pool games I can win."

-----

Another #Flash Thompson is Their Third? Well. 😏

Inspired by this panel from Spider-Man Blue, so Flash is like. Twenty.

42. What’s the last fic you read? Do you recommend it?

The last fic I read was a Harry Osborn/Liz Allan one-shot, Did you think this seat was taken? by @oliveroctavius, and it was absolutely incredible. How to get your feelings destroyed in 1k or less words.

I also read Redline like, literally six times after it came out, but a probably-less-polarizing fic that I reread recently was the Eddie Brock-focused, circa Anti-Venom era (but not really? idk just read it for context) sinner has a future also by @softgrungeprophet. It's Eddie's turn to be somebody's third (fourth). The latter I for sure recommend. The former is probably a lot more niche but I think if you're even morbidly curious about a really fucking good Mac Gargan/Peter Parker you should read Redline. 😌

58. What part of the writing process do you enjoy the most? (Brainstorming, outlining, writing, editing, etc) 

I love brainstorming. Like, legit. It's so much fun to just toss batshit insane ideas back and forth. It's satisfying to actually get the ideas down, and into a coherent story, but brainstorming is pure joy.

65. Tell us about what you’re most looking forward to writing – in your current project, or a future project

Well, I'm looking forward to (fucking finally) finishing chapter 14 of Dust to Dust. Yes, still. BUT. I am bound and determined that I absolutely MUST finish it before May 30, which is the 5th anniversary of Flash dying in ASM #800, so I gotta get it out before then, so that while everyone is wailing and gnashing their teeth over whatever is published on 5/31/2023 for Amazing Spider-Man #25, I can go "you know what the BEST response to an awful thing in comics is?" and bam! fic.

71. was answered here! (:

[lattewritings]

A liar is a liar. (Edited)

A Liar is a liar.

It had been years since she'd been back to Moscow but here she was indulging two women who only criticised her marital status. Her face a wrinkled mess of anger Melanie lied and said she was married. They also had money like Melanie but her family of course had more.

"Yes. I do have a husband. In fact we're attending the next event my mother is hosting." The lie was a sour one to tell. Her friends were married, and these nobody women were. Maybe it stung.

"Can't wait to see it-! Not." Melanie could hear the haughty laughter as they disappeared down the street. They didn't believe her one bit. Sighing she realised the mess she tangled herself up into.

Ha-Min assessed her watch once more, still incredibly confused about why she still wore it despite its utter disrepair. To be frank, Melanie would miss not having it on her wrist, not having that exact make and model. Broken things are still worth keeping. If she was a losing dog then she'd want someone to bet on her despite the odds. When she was learning how to write again she broke several expensive pens, they sit in a box in her childhood bedroom as a reminder that what's broken is to be learned from.

"I told a lie, I'm sorry." She started, refusing to meet his gaze. She felt guilty for once. "I overstepped as they made me feel inferior."

"What did you lie about?"

"I said I had a husband. And that we were attending my mothers next event." Then I go and spoil it all by saying something stupid like I have a husband. Things like this don't usually make her feel angry, inferior but everyone around her is finding someone. Someone to stay.

What if Ha-Min wasn’t here to stay, like Maxwell. Sure he treated her better than Maxwell but would he stay? They hadn’t said their forbidden I love yous. Well she did in her language. The ways she’d slip it in during conversation. She reserved words like that for her mama, for Opal. For him. He only knew Korean, Japanese and French. She only knew Russian and French.

The ways she’d whisper it into a drink or look to the side. At times he did wonder what it meant but he wasn’t quick enough to catch her in the act.

"Oh," He'd never thought about marriage, in fact he liked how they were. She'd never thought about it either. "We will pretend, show them we are better. They won't know it's a lie." Ha-Min suggested.

"I'm not better. I didn't do anything to deserve my family's money besides being born. I didn't do anything. Becoming a detective was for Opal, the way she begged me-- I couldn't say no."

"I don't feel better than them."

Ha-Min out of everyone knew how she felt. The way they looked down. "I don't care if it's a lie. We will show them up at Eva's event." Ha-Min was incredibly insistent now. The determination to show up these strangers. Show up people who don't even matter.

"Are you sure? We don't have rings. I don't even own any rings to begin with." Melanie wasn’t opposed to the idea, in fact humiliating them could be added to the agenda as well. Put the people in their places. Her gears were churning now.

"I am."

All the stops would be pulled. Little details like his embellished gloves would be worn, of course her signature locket. And perhaps this would be the night she shows some skin.

Eva's events were no joke. If you showed up without following the dress code then you wouldn't be allowed in. The people on the invite list were perfectly curated by Eva herself and herself alone. Dmitri would make suggestions but didn't bother with things like that. He was alway worried about other things.

On the bathroom counter of Ha-Min's apartment a half-full glass of wine sat near the edge as she tightly brushed her hair back into a half-up and half-down style. The counter tops a beautiful marble and huge mirror to compliment. Because Melanie was the only living daughter of Eva she was allowed to wear almost anything she wanted. Not that she was a huge drinker, she also wasn't a small drinker. The white wine looked more pink than clear.

Melanie brought the glass up to her lips, getting frustrated with her hair. It brought back memories of when her father grunted every time he couldn't control baby Melanie's hair.

The Lenn hair was a hard thing to control. Melanie’s arms were getting tired but she persisted.

Ha-Min came back into the bathroom with the bottle and another glass. Setting his glass beside hers he filled it up and topped her off. This kind wasn't necessarily his favourite but it wasn't the worst. They were both almost ready to go but there was still time.

"Do you like that kind or are you not a wine drinker?" She asked curious, Melanie had made her way around the liquors of the world. Her expression deeply concentrated.

"It's alright, I'm not sure how I feel about it though." He replied, watching, looking at themselves in the mirror. Of course, Melanie being Melanie used a healthy amount of hair product to contain all of it.

[jodilin65]

I’ve always considered myself an empath but have become less of one the more I see and realize that for the most part, people cause their own problems. Like voting Republican and then crying about lost rights. What do they expect? That’s like teasing a tiger and then bitching about it if it bites.

However, if the journal entries I’ve been editing and publishing from 2014-2015 were written by a total stranger, I would feel SO bad for them. It’s just so much torture both physically and emotionally that I went through! Even after all this time, I’m still angry that I had to suffer so much while the so-called experts blew me off and gave me suggestions that weren’t the least bit helpful in the end. They should have had a much better idea of what was going on with me and provided me with much better solutions rather than being so dismissive or blaming my problems on simply being anxious. Denying other possibilities was totally unprofessional, including that not everyone’s normal is in the so-called normal range of numbers.

I get that we know our bodies better than anyone else and that it’s hard for people to figure out or understand what they’ve never experienced first-hand but that’s still no excuse. They should have had enough info based on others who, like me, experienced the same problems. I was far from alone in what I went through between the medication and menopause.

I almost considered deleting Doc A for a minute after remembering the way she tried to tell me that levothyroxine can’t make you anxious, and that losing weight doesn’t affect your thyroid levels but only the life of the thyroid. How can any doctor say that to a patient?!

Also, the way I had to pry for menopause info or look online as if it’s a taboo subject and something totally unnatural that half the population doesn’t go through was ridiculous. I thought back to Doc C who knew damn well what my age was at the time, yet she never once said a word about menopause or perimenopause.

LOL, I just sent the last few paragraphs to Doc C on Facebook. She probably won’t see it though, as she definitely seems to have abandoned her account. And all because of what? A former patient who wanted to be her friend? Whatever. Her prerogative. It’s been 51 weeks since my last message to her which was actually an accident. It was a flower picture I meant to send someone else.

For the second day in a row, I’m tired because my sleep got broken up. I got up to pee and had trouble falling back asleep. Knowing that this meant I would automatically be tired when I got up, I removed the mouthguard. I was surprised not to find any spikes in oxygen levels after sleeping without it.

My only complaint is that the thing is making my jaw and teeth sore but I confirmed that while it can move teeth and make your jaws sore, it can’t knock your teeth out or anything like that. Hopefully, I’ll get used to it but if I don’t, yet still find it helpful (when thunder isn’t waking me up and I’m able to get back to sleep after I wake up to pee), I’ll ask Rhonda for a referral so I can get one custom made. For now, maybe tomorrow I can get back on with the testing! Part of having trouble sleeping might be my fault. It’s very hard to resist laying down when you’re tired and I might have laid down too much and gone to bed too early. I’ll try not to do that as much throughout the night.

There is some good news and that’s that some of my test results came back and I do not have an infection after all. I’m guessing the yellow discharge is simply the way I am in this day and age. Hormonal changes can cause it but it’s rarely a symptom of cancer so I’m not worried about it since I don’t have any symptoms. Hopefully, she won’t want to do further testing. The urine culture results are still a few days away.

More good news. The bed has been ordered! From Amazon, we have a metal frame that’s 14 inches tall and supports up to 3,000 lbs. The whole ensemble should be about 1,000, though.

I also got a couple of fitted sheets, one in Rio Red that will go with an extra pillowcase we have with red rosebuds on it, and one in Dusty Lavender which can go with an extra plum-colored pillowcase.

From the waterbed store, we got an 8-inch plush waterbed cover with free-flow tubes. It will come with 7 tubes that run the length of the bed and not the width. If I feel the cover is plush enough, I’ll just use an extra fitted sheet for a mattress pad. If not, we have extra plush mattress pads.

Tom will get a sheet of plywood to put on the bed frame since it's not a solid platform. There are gaps between the rails and we don't want to put the waterbed mattress on that. Also, I want to put the soundproofing blanket on top of the plywood and underneath the waterbed because I sometimes still feel and hear bumps and bangs from car doors given how close these houses are.

So now my survey savings account is almost empty! I’m going to get some little things before I save up for anything big again. I want to indulge in some Chinese food and a variety of incense from The Dipper. Then I want to finish the exterior bedroom wall.

Magic straws aren’t so magic. They have these flavored straws for milk and I decided to try the chocolate one but didn’t notice any chocolate taste at all.

Going to make dinner in a bit. A baked potato and chicken wings since I had salmon last night.

My weight is up a couple of pounds after having to raise my TSH a bit but it sure stopped my racy heart. You know how it is for me; it’s either be calm and be fatter or wound up and not as fat. The first choice is definitely more comfortable.

What was that the honker was just looking at? He just honked in and then I saw him step over in front of his lanai and peer between us and Ray at something. A rabbit?