#only really had internet when i was in the accommodation

[alpinelogy]

Wait what’s the general consensus about downloading fics for offline reading for personal use only? Been meaning to download a handful of longer fics cause Im going to have a lot of downtime next week but now I realized that lowkey idk the morals around downloading fics lol

[alphabetboyluvr]

once the thrill expires | jjk

title credit: cardigan - taylor swift

pairing: college!jungkook x female reader

synopsis:

your housemate-turned-fwb takes another girl home after a night out

warnings: angsty, smutty turmoil. it's not that bad, but it definitely isn't a happy lil number. fingering, oral sex (f receiving), rimming (f receiving), vaginal sex, doggy, protected (!!) sex, lil spanks, jaykay sorta makes out with her ear???, jaykay is a fawk boy who needs to learn self-control, oc is holding out for something that'll never happen, multiple partners in one night (jk), jk calls the reader diz (dizzy)

wordcount: 5.8K

note from holly: virgo boy trauma for you in the form of a jk one shot lmao. it's rare you get virgo boy shit laid this bare but he he i love oversharing on the internet! there's an old paragraph from yet another virgo boy fic hidden in here, too so if you think it looks familiar, that'll be why!!

minors dni // cross posted to wattpad

The knock on your en-suite bathroom door comes as a surprise. 

The subsequent twist of the lock mechanism from a coin wedged in the bolt on the other side does not. 

There’s only one person it would be.

And so you don’t yell. Don’t tell him to go away, even if you do hug your legs into your chest a little tighter. 

Sitting on the floor of your shower, dignity is preserved - but with skin as red as the flags that Jungkook freely hands you, and mascara staining your cheeks from the onslaught of piping hot water showering down on you, how dignified can you really be?

No words are spoken as the steam billows from the room, Jungkook not caring to shut the door behind himself. He takes a perch on the closed lid of the toilet, elbows to his knees, tattooed hands clasped beneath his chin. Refuses to look anywhere other than you.

There’s perplexion to his taut jaw - a frown embedded in his brows - but more than anything, there’s an overwhelming sense of confusion in his soft eyes. You’re unaware of the way he’s mirroring your expression back at you; how defeated you look, wet hair sticking to the side of your face, an emptiness in your gaze that is pale in comparison to the void in your chest.

With nothing but the pitter-patter of your shower to fill the space, you’re thankful that he can’t hear the way your heart is beating, or how you’re sniffing back the tears you were freely crying before he arrived.

“Jem messaged me,” he eventually says, quiet beneath the sound of the water. Leaning back, he wipes a palm over his face, then pushes it back into his dishevelled hair. Lets his hand fall between his legs, then shrugs as he looks at you as if to say, 'Don’t look at me like that' or 'It’s not my fault.'

And realistically, you know that it isn’t. Whatever he’s done is within the parameters of what was agreed upon. The way you feel - like Jungkook has stolen the moon and stopped the tides from turning - is not.

It’s not like either of you had ever expected to let things get this far, and definitely not for this long.

What had started as quiet kisses in the corners of clubs when your friends weren’t looking, had catapulted into drunken hook-ups after those aforementioned nights out. 

He’d call you Dizzy, ‘cause he was convinced you looked at him like you’d been spinning in circles, all awe-struck and smiley. Pretty. Like a giggle was on the tip of your tongue at all times.

Was easy, back then. Convenient. He was newly single. Not looking for anything. 

You’d been quietly harbouring an illicit crush on him from the day you moved into your shared university accommodation. Had been waiting for the stars to align - and once they had, you were certain that soulmates had to exist.

It’s the only way you can explain the small earthquake that happened half the world away at the very time you first met, the tectonic plates shifting to make sure you were perfectly presented to one another. 

You didn’t feel the tremors - would have been impossible - but your heart certainly felt something. Adrenaline? Limerence? You’re not sure.

Whatever it was only became more and more prevalent with every tipsy hold of his hand on the way to clubs, or moments stolen in secrecy in the house you now share with six of your friends. 

Now in your final year of university, if you spent as much time studying, as you do fretting over Jungkook - what he’s up to, who he’s with - maybe you’d get a first-class degree.

You’re on track for a 2:1.

He’s on track for a first, though. 

You choose to believe it’s because he’s naturally more academically inclined (as if you didn’t write an entire paper for him last semester), and not because he spends significantly less time thinking about you.

There’s no need for endless thoughts, though. 

The arrangement is simple: You’re friends. 

Best friends. Spend all your time together. Are plus ones to events. Fill the void that a partner should fill; at the winter balls, cinema screenings you don't want to see alone, and in the hushed privacy of midnight intimacy. He gets you off when you need it, and you him. 

Kisses are never shared between lips - apart from that one summer when he accidentally said he was in love with you, then took it back a week later under the guise of not wanting to ‘ruin’ the friendship. 

You don’t speak about that summer.

Hook-ups are in your room, always, ‘cause you’ve only got Jem in the room next door. Jungkook’s room is up on the middle floor, surrounded by all the boys. They’d realise what’s going on far too quickly.

It’s simple - yet excruciatingly complicated when there’s a lack of commitment, and Jungkook looks at you in the way that he does. 

His lips are a little deeper than their usual pink this evening, but you put it down to alcohol. 

Denial is a wonderful thing, and delusion even greater.

Still, he leans forward to push the shower door open. Leans further still, then knocks the tap off. Lets the water trickle down the drain, the hum of the pipes murmuring like your unspoken grievances. 

Rivulets of water chase down your skin. Jungkook watches one race from your knee to your ankle, running straight over the bruises from messy nights out and the small cut at the bottom of your calf from the fountain you’d both traipsed through when you were a little too merry a few nights prior. 

He’d given you a piggyback the entire way home, blood staining the white of his shirt; the very essence of you embedded now in the fabric of him. 

He’d patched you up after you got home. Showered with you, right here, then carried you the measly five or six steps to your bed. Had told you that you’d definitely get sepsis and die. Kissed it better, then decided he didn’t know any better, and trailed his lips up your leg. Took pity on your impending death and gave you a little, lovely death just to soften the blow. 

Funny, how you think sepsis would be preferable over whatever the fuck it is that you’re feeling now.

“Jem messaged me,” he repeats. Presses his lips together, the ring in the corner of his mouth glistening under the white lights of the bathroom.  “Said I should check on you. Been in the shower for an hour, apparently.”

Well, you think to yourself, bitterness wrapping around your words like poison ivy. You’ve checked. You can go now.

The words don’t manifest in your throat. Nothing does. Not even the echo of a sob you’ve been holding in since he first stepped foot within your sanctuary.

Instead you’re silent as you get to your feet, not caring for your nakedness. It’s nothing Jungkook hasn’t seen before. Probably knows your body better than his own at this point. Can look at the faded bruise on your chest and know that it was left there by his lips last week. Can pick out which ones of your dainty linework tattoos were there before he met you, and which ones have been acquired since.

It’s a quiet intimacy, the way Jungkook looks at you. There’s no towel in the bathroom - an oversight by your tipsy brain when deciding you needed to wash yourself clean of the man in front of you after arriving home from the club - and Jungkook doesn’t care to offer you one. 

Insanity is the product of looking at your body, he thinks. Can’t remember a time he’s ever seen you like this and hasn’t wanted to be inside you. He’s a simple man in pursuit of simple pleasures, and the way you fit him like a glove is the simplest pleasure of them all. 

“Hm?” He questions your lack of a response. 

His deep black eyes are just like the depths of the ocean floor, and it feels like he’s dragging you right down every single time he looks at you like this. Softly. Tenderly. Sweetly. As if he actually gives a shit.

There’s no room for two in this bathroom. It’s not a space designed to be shared, no matter how many times you’ve both squeezed into the shower under far different circumstances - though now you come to think of it, perhaps they weren’t so dissimilar. 

It was always Jungkook’s pursuit of pleasure that put you in that position, just like it put you there tonight.

“Hey,” he says quietly, as you turn to leave, his grip on your waist pulling you between his legs. You don’t look at him. Just keep your head turned to face out of the room - but you make no attempt to leave. Especially when his nose brushes up against the bottom of your ribs right between your breasts, and he husks, “Why are you being like this?”

The softness of his lips as he presses them against your sternum, long lashes splayed across the top of his cheeks, has you spiralling. Kind of feels like he’s twisting a corkscrew through your heart. You know he’ll rip it right out - but maybe you’ll let him, if it means he’ll kiss the wound better.

“Hmm?” He hums. One of your hands rests on his shoulder, the other in his hair, and that’s how Jungkook knows he’s rectified the damage done for a short while. It’s like putting washi tape over holes punched in the walls - useless, and bound to fall off eventually, but ever so pretty in the meantime. Another washi-tape kiss is pressed to your skin, a little higher this time. “We had a good night, didn’t we?”

The tenderness of his voice rewrites the events of the evening. A good night. 

Not one with tears, and jealousy, and arguments that people who claim to be just friends have no business having. A night shared together, perhaps, with no one else to intrude.

Didn’t we?

You so prefer this false chain of events - the one where he left the bar with you, and held your hand in the cab ride back just like he’d done in the cab ride there.

“Is she still here?”

He’s surprised that you’re mentioning it. Half-expected you to act like it never happened. Like she never happened. Is what you usually do, whenever he goes home with someone that isn’t you. 

Still, he just continues to gently stroke your sides. Doesn’t present you with any sort of weakness.

“No.”

“Did you fuck her?”

There’s a little venom to your tone; the poison ivy around your thoughts sprouting now from your throat. 

Her. Some inconsequential girl that neither of you will likely ever see again. Looked nothing like you, but a hell of a lot like his ex. 

“No, Diz,” he softens the sternness of his tone with a name only he calls you. “I didn’t fuck her.”

You’ve no idea if this is a lie or not. 

It’ll be accepted as truth for an hour. Maybe two. Just enough time for you to convince yourself that you’re the one he wants. That he couldn’t bear to fuck anyone else. That he sent her on her way after a kiss or awkward fumble, because he realised no one else could feel as good as you.

You’ll ignore the fact you know he’s here because Jem messaged him. 

You’ll ignore the fact he thinks you’ve been in the shower for over an hour, and has no actual knowledge of the events of it all. 

You’ll ignore the scratch mark on his back, and in the morning you’ll believe it was you who left there even though your nails are bitten right down.

The lies you’ll tell yourself will be far more grand than the ones Jungkook ever tells you. Nobody can ever hurt you quite like you hurt yourself.

And so, against your better judgement, you let him follow you to your bed. 

There's a clang as he tosses his rings down into the ceramic dish beside your bed. It's white, and speckled in tiny black dots, and matches the one Jungkook has in his own bedroom. Not really a surprise. He was the one who bought it for you. Before then, he used to just tuck his rings beneath your pillows - but he kept losing them, and he found it annoying having to rummage around for them whenever he was trying to make a silent exit so as to not wake you.

You tell yourself that small things like this are Jungkook's way of integrating himself into your life; creating permanence. In reality, it's just something that makes it easier for him to leave.

Leaving is the last thing on your mind right now, though, and it will be until he comes.

It used to be different. He used to stay. You convince yourself each and every time that he’ll do what he used to do before things got so confusing. That he’ll stay, and that things will be okay.

You let him kiss your skin, but he’ll never kiss your lips. Let him lay claim to your body, even though you know he’ll never lay claim to your soul. 

It’s nice to pretend.

Nice, when he lays you down and rids himself of his shirt. Nice, when he presses your legs apart, and looks at you like you’re the first woman he’s ever laid eyes upon. Nice, when he says shit like, “Such a nice cunt,” and “Let me make you feel good.”

So nice, when he strokes up and down your inner thigh, eyes trained on your pussy. 

So, so nice when he slowly drips a little spit between his pursed lips and watches as it trails down your folds. 

So fucking nice, when he spreads you with his index and middle finger, groaning at the sight of you.

See, Jungkook can be nice. Can be honest. Can tell you how much he wants you, and you can believe him without having to do mental gymnastics over it all.

As he sinks his middle finger into you - “Shit. So wet for me, aren’t you?” - Jungkook is on his best behaviour. He’ll make you feel so good that you’ll forget he ever made you feel bad, cause he needs this. Needs you. 

Not in the life-debilitating, earth-shattering, universe-bending way that you need him, but in a way that isn’t too dissimilar. 

You’re his best friend. He loves you in his own, curious way. Would lay his life on the line for you. Just can’t seem to keep his dick in his pants for no other reason than selfish gluttony. 

It’s his fatal flaw, but he just thinks everyone has them. That most people are like this.

Of the seven deadly sins, Jungkook wields them all. Too proud to admit his wrongdoings. Greedy in his need to have everything life can offer, and how he refuses to limit himself to just you. His lust and gluttony go hand in hand - yet whenever any one else with similar predispositions look in your direction, he turns green with envy. Green, until he’s red, wrath taking hold. 

But he’s lazy, too. Far too settled in how easy it is to have his way with you. Why would he try harder when you never make him?

That’s your cardinal sin: desperation. 

It reeks. Spiced vanilla and black cherry. Tarnishes your skin, until Jungkook licks it from you.

And so as his lips press down your legs, wet and wanting, you don’t object. In fact, you don’t really do anything. You just allow it to happen.

Because you are desperate - for him, his approval, his desire. His heart.

You’ll never get it, mind you, for his heart is hollow. 

Saw every example of what he considered to be true love crackle and crumble until it fell apart. Parents divorced. High-school sweetheart cheated. Love, as you know it, doesn’t exist in Jungkook’s understanding of life. 

You never stood a chance. Not really.

The only times his heart is full is when he steals enough adoration from yours, and cosplays it as his own. Shines it back at you, and tricks you into thinking that maybe he did mean it when he mumbled false declarations into your lips.

But that was three summers ago, now, and Jungkook is a creature of habit. Too stuck in his ways to ever change. Comfortable in this chaos with you.

‘Cause while the other girls are fleeting, and fun, and always very nice, they’re never comfortable. Not like you are. 

“I liked your dress tonight,” he whispers, as he pushes a second finger into you. Pumps them gently, palm skywards, coaxing soft little moans from your lips. Curls them just right, just like he always does.

The affection of such a compliment rids you of the haunting way he’d looked at you earlier that evening. 

Up, down. No smile. Turned away to change the song coming through the aux at pre-drinks. Didn’t look at you again until he was passing out shots for everyone to take. Just nodded towards your necklace - the one his hobbyist silversmith mother made you for Christmas - and asked, “You like it?”

The pendant is small. Embossed with the letters DJ - the name his mother collectively calls you whenever you spend the summer together at his place. The hammered edge of the pendant matches the ring that wraps around your thumb. Another one of her creations, gifted to you by him for your birthday.

“Of course I do,” you’d said. Seemed silly for him to ask. You wear it most days. 

“Good,” he’d nodded, then took his shot and pretended as if he wasn't all too aware that your dress would be attracting good-for-nothing men all night.

See, Jungkook knows you like the necklace. Had just been reminding you of it, and the fact it’s his initial on there with the initial only he calls you. Well, him and his mother. Goes with the territory. 

She’s seen you through your formative years. Only ever sees the good parts, because Jungkook orchestrates it that way.

She doesn’t see the moments like these, when he’s crushed your self esteem and tries to fix it in the most idiotic of ways. 

The necklace pools around the base of your throat as your head tips back into the pillows, his thumb coming to toy with your clit, gently pressing down.

“Shush, Diz,” he smiles, so pleased to see your body responding in the way that it always does. “You’ll get us in trouble.”

God forbid the people you live with - who’ve all heard the arguments after his illicit encounters with randomers, and seen his face of thunder whenever you’re getting ready for first dates - ever figure out you’re fucking. Not like it’s obvious in the slightest. Not why Jem texted Jungkook, instead of checking on you herself.

Biting onto your wrist, you try and stifle the impact of his touch - ‘cause if they do hear, it will be your fault. You’ll be the reason everyone knows your dirty little secrets. You’ll be the one who ruins it all. Not him. Just you. 

He doesn’t mean to condition you in such a way. Doesn’t even really realise he’s doing it.

Nor do you - but your self esteem is shot to shit. You’re good enough to fuck, but not good enough to love, even if Jungkook insists that there’s no one he adores more. It always comes with an add-on of ‘you’re my best friend’, or ‘you wouldn’t wanna date me anyways’.

Maybe he’s right.

But maybe it would have been nice to try.

Shame.

The pace of Jungkook’s fingers pumping into you begins to slow. Leaking around the base of his knuckles, you’re just as wet as you always are with him. Even when the emotional labour of letting him have his way with you feels like a ten tonne weight on your chest, crushing down on your ribs and spoiling you forevermore, your body still wants him. Only him. Always him.

Withdrawing his fingers, Jungkook taps the outer side of your thigh. “On your front for me, Diz. Face down, ass up.”

With anyone else, Jungkook is far more often on the receiving end. It’s a shame, ‘cause his talents go to waste, it’s just what he’s found to be typical of random hook-ups.

He loves pussy. Loves eating it. Loves that you love it, too.

Slow as he spreads your ass with his hands, Jungkook really doesn’t fuck around with wasting time. He dives in without hesitation, burying his tongue between your folds. Cares not for accuracy, nor carefulness. Just wants his tongue all over you.

Your body lurches forward, hands clutching onto the duvet beneath you. He’s always been like this. Hungry. Just as desperate as you so often feel, but better at hiding it than you are.

His tongue laps against you. Sinks into your soaked hole as deep as he can get it. Uses one of his hands to reach around and toy with your clit while he continues to explore somewhere he knows like the back of his hand.

Pulling back a little, Jungkook’s breathing is heavy. You can hear it. Groan, as he grips your ass again. Spanks it softly, then get back to his previous position. Licks a stripe from your clit up to your leaking cunt, then continues. Flicks up against the tight muscle you rarely let him fuck around with.

But you want him to want you. Want him to have you in whichever capacity he so desires. 

You reach back. Tangle a hand in his hair, and encourage him to massage your tight hole with his tongue, like you know he loves to do. 

It’s kinda cute, in a way. He likes doing it, ‘cause he loves the way it feels whenever your tongue toys with his ass. Assumes other people must love it too. Just wants you to feel good. Wants to right his earlier wrongs.

He continues to trace up and down both your holes, stimulating your entire body in the process. Rubs your clit with his fingers, till you're writhing against the sheets, body pressed flat to the cotton as Jungkook begins to fuck his fingers into your again. 

“You gonna cum for me?” He husks, a smile on his wet lips as he watches the tell-tale sign of an orgasm rush over you. Soon, you’ll be looking at him with dizzy eyes once more, and your namesake will make Jungkook feel things he pretends he can’t feel. “That’s it, Diz. All over my fingers. Good girl. Good fuckin’ girl.”

There’s a relief that comes with your orgasm for Jungkook. Hope that you’ll stop being mardy with him. He doesn’t like it when you don’t like him. These days, he keeps making choices that make it hard for you to like him. 

But you always like him - like him so much - in the comedown of a climax.

He doesn’t give you much time to recover. Wants to coax a second orgasm from you while he still can. Pulls you back into position - face down, ass up - and pushes down his sweats. Cock hard, there’s a small damp patch in his boxers from the precum he’s leaked for you. Lines himself up. 

“Let me fuck you,” he begs before he pushes into you.

“Uh-uh,” you full forward a little, preventing him from doing what he so desperately wants to do. Turning to look over your shoulder, you shake your head. “Condom.”

He furrows his brows. Has the audacity to look fucking offended, as if he didn’t bring another girl back to the house you share.

You’re stupid, and you’re desperate, and you make all the wrong choices, but you aren’t naive. Not really. Your delusions and denial are always elevated away from reality, of which you like to think you have a firm grip on.

And so you simply say, “Don’t believe you didn’t fuck her.”

He doesn’t deny it. Shakes his head, not that you can see it. Just reaches to the shelf above your bed, and gets one from the pot you keep them tucked away in. Rarely ever use them. It’s a novelty, more than not, when you use them. Something to make him last a little longer.

It’s different today.

Today, it’s because you don’t know if his cock is fucking clean or not.

It should crush you, but it doesn’t. 

Just a fact of life. Jungkook fucked someone else less than three hours ago. Came, probably. For someone else. Over someone else. Inside someone else. 

But that desperation of yours is back once more. You want to be the reason why Jungkook loses his mind in temporary bliss. To be better. To be his last memory of the evening.

And so as Jungkook rolls the condom down his thick shaft, you position yourself perfectly for him. Whimper as the tip of his cock kisses your entrance. Whine, as he pushes inside you. 

“That’s it,” he husks, gripping your ass cheeks to spread them nice and wide. Looking down to where your bodies meet, Jungkook is reminded of why he enjoys you so much. No one takes him so well. No one. He knows this. Doesn’t know why the fuck he ever feels the need to seek out anyone else. They’re never as good as this. “Fuck. That’s it, baby.”

Your hips roll back, ass bouncing in that hypnotic way he always swears will ruin him. His grip loosens to let you do the hard work, one of his hands stroking up your spine until it’s resting around the base of your throat. 

Taking back a little control, he keeps your head pushed into the pillows. Grunts. “Take this cock so fuckin’ well, don’t you?”

The mumble you moan into the sheets isn’t enough for him. He always does this. Asserts control and then realises he actually kinda fuckin’ hates it. Fingers still wrapped around the base of your neck, Jungkook pulls you up.

Chest pressed to your back, Jungkook wastes no time locking you in place with an arm around the front of your waist. His cock continues to pump upwards into you, the movements a little subdued but by no means lacking. 

The ridge of his thick head rubs up against your sweet spot. Gets you so fucking needy. Has your hand dipping to your clit to match the pressure.

And when you do? Oh, it’s heaven. You can’t help but whine - so Jungkook uses the hand that isn't on your waist to cover your mouth.

“You only get to cum if you’re quiet,” he tells you. “Be quiet for me, baby.”

But his hips are erratic. The sounds are lewd; skin on skin. It’s wet. Disgusting. Needy. Him, just as much as you. Sweat blossoms on his skin, keeping you both in this clammy haze of hedonism. 

Catching his lips on your ear, Jungkook doesn’t care if he isn’t supposed to let kisses linger so close to your lips. Tongue wet, he intrudes. Licks the shell of your ear. Grazes his teeth on your lobe. Whispers, “You looked so pretty tonight,” then drags his tongue across your ear. 

Cares not for precision nor accuracy, just the fact that this is an area of the body he doesn’t often explore, and that maybe he should do it more often, given how tightly your pussy is clamping around him.

There’s something about it - the obstruction of one of your senses likely to blame, sound distorted whenever his tongue licks against it - that makes you whine. 

You can’t even really do that now. Are too muffled beneath his hand - until he pushes the two fingers that had been inside your pussy earlier into your mouth. 

The taste is just the same as it always is whenever he does shit like this. Loves having you taste yourself. Experiencing what he experiences. Wants you to know exactly why he’s incapable of letting you go.

“Slutty little mouth,” he smirks against your ear. “Gonna finish in it.”

“Mhhm?” you mumble against the fingers you’re keeping wet and warm for him.

“Mhmm,” he replies. Presses a kiss to your temple, ‘cause he isn’t really thinking straight. Groans when your cunt clenches from the touch. “God, you want it, don’t you? Want it so bad. Wanna swallow my cum.”

Of course you do. You’ll take what he’ll give you. 

Your mumble around his fingers isn’t enough. He wants to hear you say it. Frees your mouth of himself. Grips your chin between his forefinger and thumb. Turns you to face further over your shoulder.

He’s just gonna make you say it. Just make you say something lewd to get him a little closer. Just… Just gonna… Just...- Oh, fuck it. Your lips are just there, and they’re wet, and they’re pouty and - God, forgive me - perfect for him.  

His eyes flitter between your eyes and your lips. Is aware you’re doing the same. 

“Kook,” you whisper, as if you’re about to reprimand him.

“Please,” he begs. Thinks he needs this just as much as you do. Maybe even more so.

And so somewhere between the overwhelming acknowledgement that this is a catastrophic chain of events, and the promise of a happy ending (of which you know damn well will never reach fruition), you let him sink his lips into yours.

You’re pretty in war, and even prettier in defeat. 

Jungkook thinks you’re prettiest when you’re all his. 

You think that to be his is to accept an eternal loss. 

The breath of his nose is heavy against your cheek as his lips press into yours, brows furrowed. The need for you to be lewd is abandoned, ‘cause Jungkook doesn’t even think he’ll last long enough for it. Thinks that nothing gets him closer than the flavour of your lips. 

Hips still jerking up, the sound of his skin hitting your ass echoing around the room, Jungkook fucks himself into you until he can do it no longer. Pulls away. Rips off his condom. Tosses it to the floor. Gets you face down again. Wanks himself to the point of coming undone, hot spurts of cum dripping onto your ass and spilling down to the valley of your spine.

He’s the one moaning now, your body defiled by a boy who you wish would paint you in pretty compliments instead. Still, this is a compliment. Kind of. You’re hot enough to make him cum. That’s nice, you suppose.

“Shit,” he chokes out, breathing all out of sync, heartbeat far too rapid. A light spank is tapped against your ass, then softly stroked. He soothes. Aloe on sunburn. Milk with hot sauce. Pretty kisses in the comedown of a rough fuck. 

You won’t get those. Wasn’t a particularly rough fuck, either - and yet it hurts so much when he gets up to leave.

It’s awkward. He doesn’t really say bye. Doesn’t acknowledge the fact he stoked a fire inside you that burned you from the inside out. Ignores the ashes that are scattered around your vessel, as if your soul has been ejected from its home. 

He’s warm, when you look at him. That little part of your heart has been stolen once more. He’s just feeding it back to you.

“Sorry,” he says, a hand on your doorknob. “I shouldn’t- I mean, we shouldn’t-”

“It’s fine,” you offer.

That’s the thing about Jungkook. He’ll give you the world, then realise it was never his to give. Always has to ask for it back. You’ve lost count of how many times he’s fucked you, then acted as if was foolish - only to repeat the same mistakes the next evening.

It’s what he’s always done, and is what he’ll always do.

You’ll never learn. 

The shirt you chuck on to head downstairs the next morning is his. 

Far too big for you, it finishes around your thighs. Television blaring in the room beneath you, it’s obvious your housemates are awake, and even as you’re trudging down the stairs, you’re not quite sure you’re alive.

The headache of an overbearing hangover is threatening your life. You’re certain of it. The fact your housemates have the television set to what must be the maximum volume? Only further sending you to an early grave. 

And yet when you see Jungkook sitting by the breakfast bar, hair in all different directions, a bowl of cereal in front of him, and smiling in the direction of whomever else is in the room, you find yourself smiling, too. 

“Morning,” you say pleasantly as you walk into the kitchen, ready to flop your forehead down on Jungkook’s shoulder like you so often do.

Ready, until you notice the look in his eyes when he turns to face you.

Ready, until you glance in the direction of his previous smile.

Ready, until you see the girl who looks a lot like his ex-girlfriend and absolutely nothing like you leaning on the other side of the counter. Mug from your trip to Amsterdam together in her hands, and the shirt you got him for his birthday covering her body, she smiles.

You’re drowning.

“Oh,” you say, not looking at him. Only her. “I didn’t realise we had company.”

“Is she still here?”

“No.”

She’s awkward as she nods. “Sorry, hey. I crashed here last night - hope you don’t mind? It’s just you know what it’s like getting an uber at that time-”

“Yeah, yeah,” you nod. Smile. Jungkook thinks you look pretty - but of course he does. You look defeated. “Totally.”

“Did you fuck her?

“No, Diz. I didn't fuck her.”

“Jungkook said you were feeling unwell last night?” She tries to make conversation. She needn’t. You feel far more unwell now than you ever did last night - and that’s before you notice the pretty purple bruise forming on her neck. “How are you feeling now?”

Her care is kind. Considerate. Wholly wasted on you because you’re gonna lie, and say that you’re fine, even though it feels as if your lungs have been filled with venom spat by a lover who is incapable of loving.

Still, you don’t look at Jungkook. Just make your excuses. Leave.

And even though he knows that he should, Jungkook doesn’t chase after you. 

He lets you go, because he knows you’ll always come back. You always do.

But if you don't?

Well, he’ll go back to you, and you’ll let him. Again, you always do.

From the kitchen, Jungkook can hear your showering starting up. Appetite lost, he isn’t listening to the girl in front of him. Isn’t even really sure of her name.

All that he’s sure of is that the fall out of this is not gonna be pretty.

[earlycuntsets]

HT: Some people are just beginning to discover your success. How long has the band been together and jamming?

Gerard: The band has been together 3 years. Another interesting fact is that the band has yet to "jam." It's never been the kind of situation where we sit around and search for songs. The songs find us, we assemble, and put the pieces together.

HT: You guys write music that follows some type of concept. Does this help you write the music and do you mind giving us a breakdown of how a concept is brought to the writing table?

Gerard: The concepts for the songs almost always come from the music. How the music makes us feel dictates where the direction lies. Occasionally, the song concept will come from a long list of unused song titles I have sitting in my mom's computer. They will sometimes find a home.

HT: If you were stranded on a deserted island with only 3 albums to jam out to, which ones would you choose?

Gerard: This is a tough one but I would probably go with The Queen Is Dead by The Smiths, Walk Among Us by The Misfits, and Music For Airports by Brian Eno.

Gerard: The band was nervous, scared, excited, and anxious but all very positive and looking forward to what we were about to make, which, by the way, had no definite shape or sound.

HT: You guys have been on tour forever! What's one of the things you love most about being on the road?

Gerard: The camaraderie you share with your band mates and other bands is priceless. The victories and defeats you have everyday are immeasurable when compared to other lifestyles or careers. The risk and hardship are great but when you have 3,000 people sing back your words, you win like no one ever wins.

HT: Gerard, does anyone ever mistaken you for Billy Corgan?

Gerard: When I was younger, it would happen all the time. When he shaved his head, people thought I was him with a wig on. He is, in fact, a lot taller than me.

Gerard: We don't get on the internet much, but when we do, some of our favorite sites are www.homestarrunner.com, www.absolutepunk.net, and www.americandreamcomics.com

HT: We are in a new age of music with new gadgets to accommodate that music, and it's pushing us into the future. How do you position yourself on music downloads, for or against?

Gerard: Downloading is a good thing, protected under the federal laws. The way I've always felt about music downloading is this. If you are curious and want to find out what a band sounds like, then go download it. If you like it, go buy it. If you hate it, well then there's really no reason to buy it. But ultimately, a band's record sales support them personally, so if you want the artist to be able to go live and work then you should pick up their music... for the cheapest price possible.

HT: What's a question you wish was never asked from a fan or interview?

Gerard: Hmm..."Would you please bite me on the neck?"

[zvaigzdelasas]

When I was 16, I attended the Laureate International School in Dar es Salaam, Tanzania, where I followed the British curriculum.

I played sports, and my coach used to organize trips to North Korea.

I was 16 the first time I went in 2015, and 17 the second time I went in 2016.

The camp was very accommodating. All the time, we just felt special.

They were always on our case: "Do you guys need this? Do you guys need that?"

Also, as Africans, we usually tend to have very different traditions and cultural choices.

But out of all the countries that I've been to, North Korea is one of the few that actually has a linkage to our culture.

I remember we spent two days in Pyongyang and went to the war museum and found out that our first president, Julius Nyerere, was actually friends with their first president.[...]

It was interesting to go there and hear about my country from their perspective because our ways of life were so different.

For example, North Korean kids didn't have phones, and even we were not allowed to use phones in the camp.

There was no internet network, but they had service, so we could call through landlines. It was like taking a network break.

When we came out of the camp for visits in Pyongyang, North Korean civilians came and talked to us.

That reminded me of home. If you come to Tanzania, people are going to come and talk to you. They're going to want to get to know you.[...]

My favorite memory was performing in front of a thousand people. Both times I went to the camp, I had to represent my country as a singer.

Tanzanians complained a lot about not having internet on camp.

But that was just perfect for me because sometimes I try to look for the perfect hideout and don't find it.

The scenery was beautiful, lively, and natural.

I also really made long-term friends from the camp, especially with Russian kids.

I'm still in touch with them today. I wouldn't have met them here. Most of them are from Moscow, Nakhodka and Vladivostok.

The only thing close to propaganda that I saw was that when we were at the airport, a friend of mine had some sort of film about the US president and the North Korean president on his laptop.

When we were passing through the last checkup at the airport, authorities somehow saw the clip and had him delete it.

But I didn't feel scared anywhere in the country.

27 Jul 24

[formosusiniquis]

Am I the Asshole?

Robin Buckley & Steve Harrington; Robin Buckley/Original Female Character(s); Steve Harrington/Original Character(s); Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson WC: 6052 | Rated: T | Tags: Modern AU, Reddit AU, Some AITA typical terrible people, QPR Steve & Robin, NB Steve, NB Robin AKA the Stobin AITA fic

r/AmITheAssshole u/HufflepuffHero94 9yrs ago AITA for being concerned about my girlfriends living situation?

Context: My (20F) girlfriend (18F) is amazing. She's a polyglot linguistics major, speaks three languages fluently and she's completely self-taught, a genius basically. We go to the same college (Midwestern Liberal Arts college) where we met in the marching band. Now R, my girlfriend, is from a small town. Like the kind of small town that they make jokes about in sitcoms, she isn't really online (so I'm not worried about her seeing this) because she claims they didn't even have the internet until she was in high school. She isn’t really “out” because of this. It’s like she lives in this semi-closeted space like some kind of TV queerbait character. It's not really a problem, I mean she’ll tell people we’re dating if they ask and all of our marching band friends know but when I ask about it she says it’s because it wasn’t really safe in her hometown growing up. But it’s 2014 not 1980…

Even though R is a freshman she’s in special accommodations. Instead of living in the dorms like the school usually requires she’s got a small, studio apartment just off of campus. A perk considering how awful living in the dorms is. R is a pretty private person and super studious. Most of our dates have been in the library or a study date at the coffee place on campus. She’s not big on PDA, she says she’s trying to get better at it but she’s still only sort of out and I’m her first real girlfriend. I was psyched when she asked me if I wanted to go with her to her apartment to study, said her best friend had a never fail study method that she was eager to try (and when she told me what it was I was pretty eager too).

R can’t drive, so when I pull into the parking lot of her complex she notices something and says her roommate hasn’t left for work yet. I’m a little confused because like I said she lives in a studio apartment, but she just brushes it off and says something about asshole parents and this being what they could afford when some money fell through. She’s sent me snaps from her place, so I know it’s pretty cozy so I tell her it’s fine. Obviously I’m concerned about what the set up is going to be like when we get up there but she insists that dingus (her words) will only be there for another couple minutes before they have to leave for work and that Stevie (again her words) is her best friend in the world. They moved here together from the same small town or something.

To give R credit, she’s definitely done the best she can with the space. When I walked it it definitely felt as homey as it does in her pictures. The door opened up into the kitchen and living room and she’s got those spaces divided off from the beds with one of those Chinese paper divider thingies. Anyway to make a long story short it turns out her roommate and best friend Stevie is actually a whole dude (19). He comes out, gives her a look and asks her if “us girls are planning a sleepover” and if he should make himself scarce for the evening. R says she doesn’t give him shit when his “special friends” come over and after that I kinda stopped listening. I slipped off into the apartment looking for the bathroom and that’s when I saw how their “bedroom” was set up. Twin beds INCHES apart, they might as well be sharing the same one.

Here’s where I might be the asshole. When her “friend” finally cleared out I told her the truth. I didn’t know how comfortable I was hanging out in her place where she lives with a guy. I do live in the dorms but I’ve got a single right now. I asked her to move in with me so she wouldn’t have to be in this situation. I guess it maybe sounded like I was dissing her friend, which I was but I didn’t mean for it to sound like that. I just think it’s weird that she won’t come out to anyone and is also living with some guy! I told her I wasn’t interested in being an experiment and if things were serious then she would want to move in with me.

That’s when she kicked me out and called me an asshole. But really I don’t think I’m being a dick for being concerned that she might just be jerking me along while she plays lesbian so she can tell her boyfriend about it at home. Even if nothing is going on I'm just worried that living in this kind of environment isn't safe for her. I mean this guy is probably just pretending to be her friend to get in her pants, I think the fact that they're from the same small town means she can't see that. I really think she would be better off if she moved into the dorms with me aita?

u/otpsnotbrotps NTA

u/foreplayisntreal NTA guys and girls can't be friends. If she even is a lez and a katy perry wannabe then roomie is just biding his time til she's ready to be converted

Read the rest on AO3

[ellethespaceunicorn]

Something Old, Something New

Title: Something Old, Something New

Rating: Explicit, 18+, Minors - DNI

Pairing: Nick Fowler x Reader

Fandom: The 355

Word Count: 9.5K (whoopsie)

Summary: Your childhood best friend invites you to your old vacation spot for her wedding, and you have been catching up with your first crush: her recently divorced big brother Nick.

Warnings: infidelity, divorce, recreational drug use (marijuana), drinking, mutual pining, pet names (Gumdrop, baby), praise kink, cunnilingus, unprotected p-in-v sex, mention of bodily fluids (creampie), public sex, if I forgot anything please tell me

A/N1: My tiles for @thebasementspouses VOTM Nick Fowler BINGO were: divorced, best friend’s brother, writer’s choice(prompt #802 from @creativepromptsforwriting), drunken confession, public sex. BINGO card at end of story.

A/N2: I have been working on this story for weeks and I really hope I have done the Nick Fowler fandom justice. It's my first time, and hopefully not the last time, writing for Nick. I thoroughly enjoyed writing him. Unbeta’d, we die like people who tried their best. 

Dividers by: @firefly-graphics

Support/Reblog banner by me

Cover Art by me

My Masterlist

Three Months Ago

The cardstock was rigid in your hands, the envelope discarded seconds ago. The confetti in the envelope litters around your Chucks as you bring your attention to the words embossed upon the invitation. You had been waiting for this day ever since you received the Save the Date announcement.

You ran your finger over the pretty lettering, its raised borders were a nice tactile touch. The peaceful pink, whispered white, and mellow merlot of the flowers against a hint of golden accents was a beautiful choice. Not too feminine, nor too masculine.

Turning the invitation over, you found more information. 

‘Accommodations will be completely covered for your 8-night stay at The Ocracoke Harbor Inn by the family of the Bride. You will be staying in the fully-furnished Treasure Chest Cottage. Amenities include full-service linens, complimentary wireless Internet, and guest boat docking. Guests have access to a sound-side beach. Password for WI-FI given upon check-in. Nonsmoking, no pets.’

Leave it to the Fowlers to go nuts and rent out the entire inn for their only daughter’s wedding, you thought to yourself. You were not surprised at all, growing up as a rich girl’s best friend had its perks.

As if on cue, your phone started to play the opening notes of Losing You by Solange to signal an incoming call. Pulling your phone out, you smiled seeing Deanne’s name. You clicked Accept and raised the phone to your ear.

“Hello to the future Mrs. Alexander!” Your cheery demeanor not letting on how jealous you were of your friend’s impending nuptials.

Euphonious laughter rings through the earpiece and you can’t help but join in.

“Girl, can you believe it? I am about to tie the knot, be off the market, and settle down. I’m only 12% nervous about everything so I’m doing great,” she snorted, and suddenly you were a bit less jealous if this kind of anxiety is what she had to deal with, “Anyway, um, I was giving you a call because I wanted to ask if you got your invitation and I also wanted to see if I could save myself time in waiting for your R.S.V.P. and bug and pester you until you agree to let my parents pay for you to come spend a week with us and come to my wedding and–”

“Deanne! Stop with the run-on sentence, doll. Did you think I was gonna pass up this opportunity? God, I love that you chose Ocracoke as your wedding destination. So many vacations were spent getting into all kinds of trouble,” you recalled, images of splashing in the water as kids and lounging on the beach as teens replayed in your mind.

“Yeah. Hey, when we were little girls planning our dream weddings, I was serious when I said I wanted it on the beach on Ocracoke Island. But not in the summer because of bugs and heat, but in the winter so we get that beautiful off-season fresh air,” Deanne mused.

“Dee, it’s gonna be gorgeous. I cannot wait to see you in your stunning dress walking down that aisle. Just know that since I am your oldest friend, you pretty much owe me the bouquet,” you laughed, only half-joking.

“As far as I’m concerned, it’s already yours,” she bantered, clearing her throat before speaking again, “So, I also called because I wanted to vent a little, if that’s okay?”

“It’s always okay. You doing alright?” you asked, now worried that your friend was in trouble.

“Yeah, no, I’m fine. I have an update on Nick and Tori, though,” she paused, allowing your mind to wander.

The mention of your first crush’s name sent a shiver down your back. Many a moment had been wasted thinking about his pretty smile and grayish-blue eyes. You’d liked Nick before you knew you even liked boys. He was the heartthrob that trumped every teen dream of every other girl in America’s heart. In your mind, he was the closest to perfect you could imagine. 

You responded, “Oh?”

“So, their divorce is finalized. My big brother is officially a divorcé. I would have thought that a man who was with someone for so long might be partying it up right now. But he says he’s focusing on work and, I don’t know. I just want him to be happy. And like, he’s getting divorced as I’m getting married and it feels so weird. It doesn’t seem fair,” she lamented.

“Dee, come on. You know Nicky wouldn’t want you to think like that. He loves you. You’re his favorite sibling,” you jested, trying to lighten the mood.

“Ha ha. I’m his only sibling. I better be his favorite,” Dee chuckled, happy to be distracted, “So that brings me to you, Miss Missy. Last I heard, you were dating some engineer guy? Do I get to meet him soon?”

You inwardly cringed, hopes dashed of being able to avoid the topic of your relationship status. Things with Curtis kind of fizzled out when you found his tongue down an intern’s throat. You had been bringing him dinner since he’d complained about the late nights at the office.

Turns out he was hungry for more than your baked ziti. 

You explained all this to Dee, remembering the look on Curtis’ face when you poured the prepared food into his lap. He was so shook, it was beautiful.

“I didn’t want to waste all that food but he looked wonderful with my pasta all over his shirt and pants. He honestly deserved it. It was his favorite shirt too. I hope those stains never come out,” you huffed, feeling like you were right back in that office again.

“I have never been so proud of you. I wish I could put hot sauce in his underwear for hurting my girl. I’m sure if I just had a few minutes, I could come up with something more diabolical than that. But it’s what I have at a moment’s notice,” she retorted.

One thing you could always count on Dee for? Getting angry for you and using her beautiful and educated mind to come up with some way to make the person who slighted you pay for their misdeeds. It was both adorable and super embarrassing to have her tiny frame looking up into some bully’s face pointing her finger at them.

“Well, I appreciate your offer, but he is so not worth the energy. You have much better things to think about, like your wedding day. This is your cue to stop worrying about me, Dee,” you advised, a stern tone coloring your words.

“Fine, I will stop worrying about you out loud. You got it, girl. Anyway, I won’t hold you. Talk soon, ok? I miss you,” she said, and you could envision her getting bleary-eyed.

“I miss you too, Dee. We’ll get together soon, I promise,” you sighed, feeling guilty for letting your friendship dwindle over the years.

“I’ll hold you to it. Bye, babe,” she hummed.

“Bye.” You hang up the phone and close your eyes. Visions of what Dee will look like in her wedding dress cloud your thoughts. Little snippets of grayish-blue eyes and dark brown hair seep in and you can almost hear his laugh again. You open your eyes, blinking away the mental images that brought you joy for a moment.

‘This is fine,’ you thought to yourself. Yeah, totally. You’re only going to see your best friend from childhood get married, effectively ending your childhood with a pretty bow on top. You also were only going to be with the biggest crush you ever had for like, an entire week. 

And he’s single. 

And probably needy. 

And...you had better get your jaw up off the floor if you were going to get anything done.

Three months is enough time to get your brain, your body, and your emotions in check before you make a fool out of yourself in front of your second family.

Right?

January 20th, 2024 – Day One

Standing on the deck of the Hatteras Ferry, you watch as Ocracoke Island comes into view. The sun is at its highest and you are thankful for your sunglasses shielding the the bright sunlight bouncing off the crystal clear waters. You can taste the salty air and you are instantly transported to memories of running around the decks of this ferry with Deanne and Nick while your mothers tried in vain to wrangle you all.

The island comes into view and you search the docks for a familiar face. Dee promised to meet you at the docks, but when you approach them she is nowhere to be found. You pull your luggage behind you as your shoulder bag decides to slide off.

Before it can hit the ground, it’s caught by the strap by a strong hand at the same time you reach out to grab it. You thank the kind stranger as you both stand to your full height and you are face-to-face with a grown-ass Nicholas Fowler. He says something and you don’t hear hide nor hair of what the hell he just said, you look at him and break into a smile and he chuckles and speaks again.

“I hope you don’t mind Dee got me to pick you up. She had some wedding stuff to do. I wasn’t listening,” he explains, adjusting his sunglasses and putting your bag on his shoulder. He gestures over to his black Lamborghini Urus. 

Once you walk over, he puts your shoulder bag in the back seat. You step closer to him to hand him your rolling luggage. You are mesmerized as his strong forearms flex when he puts everything in the SUV. 

You clear your throat and look around when he looks back at you, catching you watching him. He closes the back door and guides you to the passenger side, opening your door for you.

“Oh, you’re a full-service driver today, huh?” you joke, stepping past him. Your platform espadrilles clacking on the asphalt. Adjusting your strapless sundress, you climb in.

“Whatever service you require, Gumdrop,” he replies with a smile, making sure you are comfortable before closing your door.

That fucking nickname… He would call you gumdrop instead of your name more often than not. That’s all, he didn’t mean anything by it, right?

When you are both buckled in, you start the drive across the island. Comfortable conversation is easy between you two. It’s like you fall back into a safe space with him. You talk about old vacations, funny moments, and what you both are up to these days. Neither of you mentions either of your failed relationships and you can’t keep the smile off of your face.

“Hey, we still have an hour until check-in. You wanna grab a bite or go to the beach or something?” he suggests.

“Are you sure they’re not waiting for us?” you counter, wondering if it’s a good idea to have a little moment with Nick all to yourself.

“I’d rather ask for forgiveness than permission. No pressure, just a suggestion,” he presses, taking a second to look over at you and smile that smile that has had you in a chokehold most of your life.

After thinking about it for all of five seconds, you agree to have lunch at Plum Pointe Kitchen. You enjoy a generous helping of Drunken Chicken nachos while Nick gets the VooDoo Shrimp PO’Boy. You share half of your meal, and Nick refuses to let you pay for anything.

Making your way to the Ocracoke Harbor Inn after lunch, you finally meet up with everyone. Dee is in mid-conversation with someone when she sees you and Nick pull up into the parking lot. She walks over to you and pulls you into a very tight embrace. It’s like everything was chaos before you got here.

“Oh my goodness, I am so glad you are here. How was the trip? Did you eat? Did Nick bore you? I’m sorry that I couldn’t come and meet you, but we had a little mishap with the reservation for the hotel and then I thought I left my wedding dress at home, and then we–”

You cut off Dee before she can work herself into a frenzy again, “Dee! Breathe. You’re gonna be fine, I promise. And is that Matthew? Introduce me already, would you?” you encourage, trying to get your friend’s mind off of the previous debacle and onto the man walking over.

Dee introduces you to Matthew and he charms you with the way he dotes on Dee. He seems like the type to be able to handle her rambling and intense emotions. How he looks at her while she speaks makes you miss having someone look at you like that.

“Well, it’s just about 3 o’clock now. Let’s get checked in and settled, then we can get together later?” Matthew chimes in.

“Sounds good,” Nick agrees, turning to you, “Go ahead and leave your stuff in my car. I’ll take you to your cottage after we are all checked in.” You nod, trying to hide your excitement. 

Once you are done with the receptionist, you get your key and the wifi password to your cottage. While waiting for everyone else to get done, you fiddle on your phone until Nick’s shadow looms over you. Looking up, you are greeted with his eyes no longer shielded by his sunglasses in the dim lobby.

“You ready, Gumdrop? We still have some time before Mom and Dad show up. And I think I remember Dee saying she would call when she was ready to go out,” he concludes, putting his hands in his pockets and rocking on his heels.

If you didn’t know any better, you’d think he was nervous about something. But you don’t push.

“All set,” you say, smiling up at him feeling bold enough to wrap your arm around his while you walk out of the lobby.

Dee shouts after you to behave yourselves and tense up a bit while Nick chuckles, seemingly amused by his sister’s thinly veiled comment on two single adults being close. Damn them.

Nick opens the passenger side door for you again, closing it once you are safely inside. He drives to the Margaritaville Cottage where he will stay with his parents during the trip. He instructs you to stay in the car while he just drops his bags off and is back outside in a few minutes.

The next stop is your cottage, called the Treasure Chest. You snicker at the name, thinking it sounded more like a pirate-themed strip joint. When Nick asks what you’re laughing about, you tell him your thoughts on the name of where you are staying. The slow smile that spreads on his face makes you involuntarily clench your thighs, wondering what his days-old stubble would feel like between your legs.

He tilts his head just slightly at you, then turns back to the road, smile still intact. Luckily the drive is short as the cottages are fairly close to one another. Nick parks in the driveway and you both get out and stretch your legs. He comes around and grabs your shoulder bag and luggage, motioning for you to lead the way.

Walking up the steps to the door, you unlock it and are welcomed by the scent of fresh linen. The central air of the cottage is just this side of perfect and you drop your purse on the dining room table. Turning around, you see Nick walking into a room off of the living room.

“Holy shit, you got a King-sized bed,” he shouts from the bedroom.

Walking in, you sit at the foot of the bed next to Nick and start to untie your shoes. He follows suit and turns to you biting his lip, a question at the tip of his tongue.

Facing him, you ask, “What? Do I have something on my face?” 

“No. I, uh...I’m surprised you haven’t asked yet,” he notes. At your confusion, he holds up his left ring finger. A band of untanned skin around the base clues you in that he’s talking about his divorce.

“Nicky, I would never make you talk about it. It can’t be easy in that situation. I mean, I only broke up with Curtis a few months ago and we were only together for six months. I couldn’t imagine how a divorce feels after how long you and Tori were together,” you insist, placing a hand on his knee.

He covers your hand with his and nods. “Mom and Dad are pretty good about it. They don’t ask me how I’m doing with that sad look in their eyes anymore. But Dee? Jesus, when I told her about the incident, she was out for blood. I had to end up calming her down. All because someone broke her big bro’s heart. Love her, but she can get a little carried away,” he finishes.

“This is not to make you feel like you need to share, but you mentioned “the incident” and now I’m curious. Feel free to tell me to shut the fuck up. But I caught Curtis with his tongue down another woman’s throat. I don’t know for sure how long it had been going on or if they had done anything else together, but I knew at that moment that I was done. I am worth more than that. And so are you, Nicky,” you encourage, feeling a bit of weight lift off your shoulders after finally talking about your breakup.

“My situation was similar. Tori had been cheating on me for the last two years of our marriage with her boss. I had a feeling something was up, just didn’t want to believe it was something like this,” he reveals, continuing, “But I am moving on, so to speak. I’m not holding out anymore for her to come crawling back to me with a sad story and all that. Even though I hope that she falls in a sinkhole.”

You both laugh and continue talking, taking your minds off of your breakups. You reminisce about all of the times you’ve stayed on the island during vacations. You giggle over dumb stories of you all as teens in high school, hiding weed from your parents and drinking on the beach til it was time to sneak back into the hotel.

You get an idea and you tell Nick to give you a minute before you go back into the living room to retrieve your purse. Coming back into the bedroom, you pull out a vape pen and wiggle it in front of Nick’s face, a devilish smirk on your lips.

“We’ll just take one hit each and we will be fine. Just a bit more mellow,” you offer, pulling him to the balcony off of the living room. You each occupy a wicker chair and you hand over the device.

“Gumdrop, you little devil,” he takes the pen from you and inhales, closing his eyes and holding the smoke in his lungs before letting it out. The smoke dissipates quickly and you can see the weight lift off of his shoulders. Handing it back to you, he exhales loudly and leans back in his chair.

Putting the tip in your mouth, you hit the button and inhale. Warm vapor fills you and you release the button, holding in the smoke for a beat and then letting it out toward the sky. You put the pen down on the table between you and fold your legs under you, letting your dress cascade down.

Sitting in companionable silence with Nick feels great. Neither of you feels the need to talk while you listen to the sounds of nature around you. People walking around the cottages, cars driving by, and the distant waves from Pamlico Sound make you wish you had gone to the beach earlier.

“Fuck, that was only one hit and I feel like my bones are made of jelly,” you remark, swaying to a song that isn’t playing with your eyes closed.

Nick looks over to you and smiles, “Must be jelly ‘cause jam don’t shake like that.”

You open your eyes and turn to him, your mouth twitches before you break out into uncontrollable laughter. Nick soon follows and you both are taken over by the giggles. You settle down soon enough, still feeling the buzzing calmness of being high.

“The world needs more people like you,” you beam.

“Nah, I like being unique,” he replies, his phone chiming. Picking up a video call from Dee, “Hey Sis.”

“Hey, me and Matt were gonna go for dinner and drinks, you in?” she asks.

“Yeah, that sounds...good,” Nick answers for himself while looking at you to get your answer.

“Ok, well get ready and meet us at Oyster Company. And tell my best friend that she is coming, no ifs, ands, or buts. See you both soon!” With that, she ends the call.

“So...our decision has been made for us. Do you need to change or anything?” Nick wonders, gesturing to your traveling attire.

“If I take this dress off, I am not going out. Besides, I like this dress. I think I look positively adorable. But I will change my shoes to something more comfortable,” you finish before Nick can comment on how he also likes your dress. You pick up the vape pen, make your way back to your luggage, and pull out some flat sandals.

Once you are ready, you make your way back outside and are surprised to see Dee and Matt parked on the street outside of your cottage. “We decided to pick you up. Matt is DD tonight, so we can all get a little loosey-goosey. Plus, I can always tell when Nick is high, so get in losers!”

Nick snorts, and you are mortified to be found out, but you quickly get over it once you are in the backseat of Matt’s Audi Q4. The short ride to the restaurant was spent with Nick’s left leg brushing against your right leg. He was either manspreading or he wanted to touch you and wanted to keep it under the radar.

Either way, you were excited to feel his warmth next to you.

When you make it to the restaurant, you sit at a high table and it almost feels like a double date. Especially when your waitress congratulates Dee and Matt on their wedding while remarking that you and Nick make a cute couple as well. Your face warms up and you suddenly feel like every eye is on you. 

Nick comes to your rescue, answering the waitress with a smile, “My girl’s a bit shy, is all. Can we get a pitcher of beer for the table to start? And also two shots of Crown Royal Vanilla for me and the little lady. Thanks.”

If it was possible, you would have melted through the floor and evaporated, but instead, you just hide behind the menu until Nick pokes his head in.

“That wasn’t to embarrass you, I swear. But I got nervous that she was gonna try and flirt with me, so I dragged you under the proverbial bus with me,” he admits, his lopsided smile only making you want him more.

“Fine. You’ll just have to make it up to me,” you warn, a devious grin appearing on your face. 

You put down your menu just as the waitress comes back with the drinks. Taking both shots, you hand one to Nick. Staring in each other’s eyes, you clink your shot glasses and then tap them on the table before taking the shot. The sweet burn of the liquor warms you from within while Nick’s eyes on you melt whatever nerves you had previously.

A cleared throat breaks your trance, your focus changing from Nick to Dee.

“I talked to Mom and Dad and they won’t get here ‘til Friday afternoon with the rest of the guests. Dad said he had a few things to take care of and not to worry. Of course, I worry tenfold because he told me not to,” Dee interjects, busying herself with pouring beer into her frosted glass.

“Baby, they’ll be here as soon as they can. Don’t you worry your pretty little head about anything,” Matt insists, moving a strand of hair away from Dee’s face before kissing her.

“Promise to keep me occupied?” she requests, a sinful smile on her face.

“I do,” he jokes, clearly proud of himself for making his fiancée blush.

“First of all, how dare you? Secondly, that was almost too cute so watch yourself,” she laughs.

You roll your eyes at the happy couple and smile, going back to looking over the menu. The waitress comes back to the table and takes your orders. Over the meal, you get to know Matt a bit more and you can see how Dee fell in love with him. He’s intelligent, funny, and charismatic. The way he talks about and to her makes you so happy to know your friend found love.

When they turn to talk to each other, you and Nick spark up a conversation about work. He tells you what he can about working for the government, keeping the specific details to himself. You regale him with stories of your time as a freelance writer. You’ve written for dozens of publications, but you just want to get your original works out there for people to enjoy. 

After mentioning a few pieces you wrote for GQ, Nick expressed interest in reading your articles. You try and downplay your skills, but he presses you for the links. Taking out your phone, you realize that you don’t have his number. 

While you exchange digits with Nick, you are too busy to notice Dee casting a sidelong glance and smiling to herself. You ramble on as you send him link after link of some of your favorites. With your face in your phone, you don’t notice the way Nick looks at you with a mix of pride and hunger.

“Well, I am ready to call it a night,” Dee yawns, getting everyone’s attention, “But I could use a nightcap. Who’s up for a trip to the ABC Store? We can make it before they close.”

Everyone agrees and after the check is paid, you all pile into Matt’s SUV for the quick drive to the liquor store. You browse the aisles for a bit by yourself. Filling up your basket with a bottle of wine, some whiskey, and a six-pack of hard seltzers, you surmise that this will sustain you for the week ahead and go in search of the others.

You find Nick in front of the beer cooler, hard at work trying to decide between a 12-pack of Sam Adams’ Cold Snap and Harpoon’s Long Thaw. You suggest he get both and he agrees.

Meeting Dee and Matt up at the front of the store, you stand next to Nick in line and he laughs at the contents of your shopping basket. He puts his beer up for the cashier to scan and has you do the same, paying for your items. 

A little piece of you feels taken care of and you thank him while continuing to tell him he doesn’t have to. He just shushes you and says you can make it up to him later. Before your mind can think about what that might entail, the sale is rung and bagged. Nick picks up the beer and you grab the bag of your things.

Nick asks Matt to just drop him off at your cottage since he left his car there. His cottage is literally next door, but you’re not exactly gonna deny yourself the company. Dee and Matt drive away and you turn back to Nick. You both laugh nervously and you surprise yourself by speaking up.

“So, um. I was gonna have a weed and whiskey moment to myself, but I’d be willing to share if you’re interested,” you hint, watching as he weighs his options. 

“Lead the way, Gumdrop,” he replies.

He follows you in, closing the door behind him. He puts his beer into the fridge along with your hard seltzer. You put the wine on the counter and take out the whiskey while Nick finds two short glasses in the cabinet. Pouring a generous amount in each one, he offers you a drink and you take a sip of the amber liquid. 

Letting the whiskey sit in your mouth, you savor the hints of vanilla and spice. You reach in your purse for your vape pen and take a hit of it before offering it to Nick. Taking a long pull off of the pen, he exhales and you watch as his shoulders relax. You both take another sip of whiskey and revel in the dual flavors of the weed and whiskey.

You take your glass and the bottle, moving onto the patio off of the living room, and sit down in one of the wicker chairs while Nick takes the other. The conversation comes easily enough. Mostly high thoughts and random memories come to mind. After a while, you put on some music and when 6 Underground by Sneaker Pimps comes on, you can’t help but dance in your chair.

Nick stares while you close your eyes and move your hands to the trip-hop classic. You spend the entire song moving to the downtempo beat and enjoying your crossfade. The trance you were under slowly dissipates as the song ends and Pendulum by FKA Twigs starts.

When you open your eyes, Nick is pulling you to stand up. You’re lost as to what he is doing until his hands go to yours, pulling them to rest around his neck while he holds your hips. As the song continues, you follow his slow lead and sway to the intimate and mesmerizing indie hit.

🎶

You're younger than I am broken

I dance feelings like they're spoken

So my conversation's not enough

So lonely trying to be yours

Running through sliding doors

So lonely trying to be yours

When you're looking for so much more

🎶

By the time the song ends, the heat between you is unmistakable. Your hand tangles in his hair when he pulls you impossibly closer. Mere centimeters separate your lips. All you would need is to lean just one step closer and you’d finally get to taste his kiss.

Nick beats you to it and his hands pull your face to his, crashing your lips together. You can’t hold back the moan that escapes your lips and he swallows it adding in his own grunts and groans. Kiss after kiss, you radiate carnality and passion. 

Breaking the kiss, you watch as he licks his puffy bottom lip. You take in a breath of air and prepare to dive back in but Nick voices his thoughts.

“You are gonna be the death of me, Gumdrop,” he sighs, and at your brows furrowing he continues, “You’ve only been back in my life for a day and I’m already thinking of ways to keep you in it. Don’t hate me, but I think we should chill out, just for tonight. I swear, if you still want this by tomorrow night, I am all yours. But you better be all mine. Please, tell me you can wait for me?”

“Tomorrow night and you’re all mine?” you plead, and he nods.

“Less than 24 hours, baby. Show me that these feelings aren’t just from the substances in our system,” he insists, and you wanna fuck him even more now after he says that.

You nod and he speaks up, “Need to hear your words, baby, like a big girl.”

“Fuck...yes, I can wait. I can wait for you, Nicky,” you whimper and he rests his forehead against yours. 

“That’s my good girl,” he praises, lifting his head from yours, “Now, why don’t we call it a night before I go back on my word? You look so good in this dress and I really wanna be good.”

Agreeing with him, you clean up your empty glasses and move the bottle to the counter next to the wine. Nick pulls you into him one last time, snaking a hand down to your ass and grabbing a hefty portion of it before a hardy slap lands on your left cheek. He only snickers at your yelp and nibbles on your bottom lip. 

“Keep that same energy for me because tomorrow I’m not holding back,” he vows, and if you weren’t leaning into him, your legs would’ve surely buckled. If he notices the tremble go through your body, he makes no mention of it and for that you are grateful.

“Goodnight, Nicky,” you hum.

“Sleep tight, Gumdrop. And do me a favor?” he challenges, at your nod he continues, “Save it for me. I’m gonna take care of you tomorrow, so no need to touch that kitty tonight, right?”

You let out the breath you didn’t know you were holding, “Right.”

He leaves and once the door is closed, you lean back against it, your hand going to your neck where your pulse is playing a sick beat against your skin.

Less than 24 hours, you think. You got this.

That night, you dream of grayish-blue eyes and large hands roaming your body.

January 21st, 2024 – Day Two 

You wake just before 10:30 am and are greeted with a good morning text from Nick. He lets you know that he is taking you out, just the two of you. Since Dee and Matt are enjoying a couple’s spa package, he figures it would only be right to hit some of your favorite places on the island.

You are dressed and out the door by noon. Nick takes you to pick up lunch at Taqueria 504 Suazo’s and you drive out to rent a Jeep Gladiator at for a few hours to drive on the beach. One of the best things about this island is that everything is so close. After 5 minutes, you are at your destination. 

Nick drives out a ways past the other people enjoying the off-season and stops about a minute after the last two fishermen you see. Guess he wanted a secluded spot, you think to yourself. While you get the food, Nick grabs the beach chairs and umbrella that he rented. The ocean breeze is agreeable enough, but you are glad that you brought a thin sweater to keep the chill off.

Once you sit down, you hand over Nick’s food and he digs into his burrito while you munch on your fish tacos. When your meal is finished, Nick puts your leftovers in the Gladiator and lets down the truck bed. He beckons you over and helps you sit on the edge and he climbs up and sits next to you while you both look at the water.

“Ya know, the last time we came out here I was just finishing my third year at Virginia Tech. You and Dee were seniors. I remember hoping upon hope that you would apply to VT and I remember you telling me you were accepting a scholarship from Princeton. I just sucked it up and congratulated you. Even though I was hoping you would understand why I wanted you close, I was so proud of you for venturing off on your own. You were always one to go after what you wanted. I just couldn’t stop wanting to be what you wanted,” he confesses, looking off into the water.

“I wanted you, Nicky. Trust me, I did. But I was so afraid that I had a dumb little crush on someone who would never see me as someone other than his little sister’s best friend. The last time I saw you, I thought it was right to push away the idea of you ever having feelings for me. I also may have been afraid of what Dee would say. She’s kind of protective over both of us, ya know?” you finish.

“That girl can be a vicious little thing when she wants to,” he chuckles, shaking his head, “But don’t you think it’s kind of a sign that she had me pick you up from the ferry? And how suddenly today, we have a free schedule to do whatever we want together? I know my sister, and she’s done this before. She matched me up with my high school girlfriend, Beth.”

“Ugh, Beth with the braces and bangs. I used to call her Triple B behind your back. I hated her so much,” you mutter, trying to push the image of them kissing out of your mind.

“Yeah, well. I knew you hated her, but me being an idiot teenager didn’t exactly know that meant you liked me. I just thought you didn’t like her because she was kind of a bitch. She was plenty nice to me, but she could be...a little scary, at times,” he laughs, surprising himself.

“So...you think Dee would be ok with...this?” you say, gesturing between the two of you.

“I just think there is no way she would let us be alone together if she wasn’t halfway hoping it would work out,” he guesses, “Plus, honestly? We’re adults. We’re allowed to go after what makes us happy.”

A slow smile spreads across your face and you pull Nick in for a kiss. You don’t want to jinx it but he makes you happy too. The way he looks at you like you hung the moon, the way he listens to you and asks questions and the way he kisses you? 

It just has to be real.

Packing up your beach equipment, you head back to drop off everything. Getting back into his SUV, you head around the island and view some of the sights. You go shopping and pick up some new knick knacks to take home. Visiting the lighthouse, you take some photos and make sure to bring Dee and Matt here before you leave the island.

Since most of the island’s restaurants are closed on Sundays, you venture to Ocracoke Variety Store and opt for cooking dinner together. After you have all the ingredients you need for a simple fish fry, you head back to your cottage and you and Nick get your hands dirty.

You have him cutting up potatoes for steak fries while you are preparing the batter for the fish. When dinner is ready, you sit at the dining room table with soft music playing in the background. While Nick wanted to take you out for your first date, he could appreciate the quiet setting with just the two of you enjoying each other’s company.

Finishing your meal, Nick takes your hand and kisses your knuckles. You smile and warmth radiates in your cheeks. You hate to admit it, but you wish you had a little liquid courage right now. But the nerves you feel only cement that this is happening.

He pulls you up from your seat, the hunger in his eyes evident from his blown-wide pupils. Leading you into the bedroom, he stops just short of the end of the bed. Standing behind you as you face the bed, he runs his hands down your bare arms and whispers in your ear.

“I cannot wait to take you apart, Gumdrop. But,” he starts, turning you around to face him, “First, I just want to take my time and worship this beautiful body I know you’re hiding from me.”

If he wasn’t holding you up, you would have melted into the carpet. But he’s there with firm hands and a gentle grip. Helping you out of your dress, he lays it on the chair in the corner. Coming back, he admires the white lace bra and panty set that accentuates your body shape.

His lips come back to yours, tasting your desire and wantonness with every kiss. Wrapping an arm around you, he guides you to lay back on the bed while maintaining the liplock. He kisses down your neck and across your collarbone while his hand unclasps your bra and removes it from your body.

Laying a kiss between your breasts draws a quick inhale from you. You can tell he’s proud of himself when he looks up at you while he licks one pert nipple, the other between his thumb and forefinger. He sucks on it as if he could siphon gold from your tits. Switching to the other, he gives it the same attention. 

The noises that come from him as he plays with your breasts are enough to make you shiver. He whimpers when you moan and throw your head back. He groans when he kisses down your belly, stopping to look up at you before he plants a quick kiss upon your covered mound.

He pulls down your panties at such an agonizing speed. Nick has to squeeze his dick through his pants when a string of your wetness stretches from your pussy to your underwear. Spreading your legs apart, he feasts on the view of your lips opening like a flower before him.

He wanted to go slow, he really did. But once he flattens his tongue and licks up from your entrance to your swollen nub, he is mesmerized by the taste of you. He goes back and forth between sucking on your button and lapping up whatever nectar drips from you. You can feel yourself inching toward the finish line, and he is right there to talk you through it.

“Fuck...you taste like Heaven...that’s right, baby...let go and cum for me like a good girl,” he commands between licks and kisses.

You’re nothing if not a good listener and seconds later, your walls are clamping around his fingers. You’ve never cum like this before and it washes over you like a warm waterfall. He removes his fingers from your wet opening and sucks them clean before moving up the bed to kiss you.

Tasting yourself on his tongue, you are beyond turned on. You tug at the hem of his shirt and he sits up to pull it off. Running your hands over his chest, you pull at the button of his pants.

“Use your words,” he urges, his hands stopping yours from moving further.

“Need to feel you, Nick. Please fuck me,” you beg, all thoughts gone from your head.

“There’s my good girl,” he replies, standing up from the bed to undress fully. Climbing back on the bed, he kneels between your legs. He strokes himself slowly, eight inches of uncut cock staring you in the face. He squeezes the base and you can tell he is just as excited as you are.

You crook a finger at him and once again, he is on top of you. With nothing between you, you’re impossibly close and you only want to get closer. Your hand soon finds his erection and he hisses at the contact, groaning when you stroke him.

He leans on one forearm while his other hand guides his tip between your lips, gathering some of your slick before entering you. You both groan loudly once he is fully settled inside you. 

“You good, baby?” he asks, anxious to start moving his hips.

“God, yes. Fuck me, Nicky,” you plead, feeling so full when you arch your back.

Foregoing words, Nick retracts his hips and thrusts into you. The wet squelch as he fucks you is music to your ears, just like the way he tells you how beautiful you are in between kisses. He uses your breasts as handholds while he pummels your snatch.

The way he looks into your eyes while he plunges inside you excites you so much that you don’t even notice when a tear escapes your eye. He kisses it away, trailing his lips to your neck where he sucks at your pulse point. At this point, you couldn't care less about a hickey. You just want to be his.

Your next orgasm surprises you and you squeeze his cock from the inside, coating him in your cream. 

“Good girl, coming all over my fucking dick. Feels so fucking good when you tighten around me like that. You are taking me so well, Gumdrop. Yes. You. Are,” he grunts, punctuating the last three words with deep thrusts inside you.

Flipping you over so you are on top, Nick grabs your hips and you start to ride him. You bounce on his cock like it’s the last time you get to fuck. By the mewls coming from him, you are doing it just right.

You feel another climax on its way, slowly building up in your core. Nick swats your hand away when you go to rub your clit. He licks his thumb and massages your neglected pearl until you are unable to hold it in any longer. The dual stimulation is too much and you gush, soaking Nick’s abdomen and your thighs.

“Oh fuck, baby. Such a good fucking girl for me. You must want my cum inside you with the way you’re...riding my dick. Shit, baby, I’m gonna blow. Where do you want it, baby?” he asks, you reply by doubling down on your hip motions.

“Right there, Nicky. Cum inside me, please,” you implore breathlessly.

“Yes, baby. Gonna cum for you, gonna fill you up so good. Ugh, fuck, here it comes,” he whimpers, his hold on your hips so tight to keep you close to him. 

You feel every twitch of his cock, his muscles pulling taut across his arms and chest as he floods your canal. Your name on his lips as he comes down is a badge of honor. Yes, you did that shit.

He pulls you down to kiss him, shallow thrusts keeping him semi-hard before he pulls out. He lays you down next to him, cuddling you close and kissing your forehead. You start to fall asleep but you can feel Nick moving off the bed. Your hand shoots out to grab for him, but he shushes you.

He goes into the bathroom and you hear the faucet running before he comes out with a wet washcloth. Wiping down your sensitive folds, he takes care of you so well. Putting the washcloth back in the bathroom, he comes back and helps you get under the covers and he snuggles in with you.

With your arms and legs entangled in one another, you drift off peacefully.

January 22nd – January 26th 2024 

The days before the wedding are spent enjoying the island with Nick, Dee, and Matt before the other guests arrive. More than once, Dee has cornered both you and Nick, asking embarrassing questions. You both say nothing, feigning ignorance even though Nick has moved into your cottage over the week, abandoning the cottage that he was supposed to share with his parents.

That being said, once his parents do finally make it to the island, he doesn’t even try and act like he isn’t staying with you. The smile on his father’s face says it all, he approves. His mother is far too preoccupied with getting everyone together for the wedding rehearsal to notice anything. 

That is until she catches you and Nick making heart eyes at each other as you stand in for the Bride and Groom in rehearsal. Yes, it was a bit too soon to be playing Wedding Day with a man whose divorce is less than 100 days old.

But when you know, you know.

At dinner, you excuse yourself to go to the bathroom and you don’t notice Nick following after you. Before you can enter the ladies’ room, a hand on your arm pulls you into the nearby gender-neutral bathroom.

You turn around and are met with hungry eyes before he descends upon you. Turning you around to face the mirror, he puts your hands on the sink and sinks to his knees, his hands roaming under your dress and up your legs until he pulls down your panties. He pulls out his already hard dick and pumps himself a few times before sliding inside you.

“Don’t fucking move, baby. Keep looking at yourself in the mirror, and your hands stay right where they are. You thought you could get away with teasing me in this tight fucking dress,” he breathes, “I want you to watch yourself while I fuck you til you’re dripping for me like the good girl I know you can be.”

When he places his hands on your hips, he begins a steady pace. He watches you in the mirror as your orgasm takes you over without warning. You squeeze him, your walls fluttering and coaxing him to follow you when you cover him in your juices.

But he surprises you when he pulls out and pulls your panties back up. When you turn around to ask why, he only kisses you and whispers in your ear, “I’ll get mine later, don’t you worry.” That only fills you with a little dread, your legs still wobbly as Nick tucks himself away and straightens his outfit. “Can’t have them knowing I just got my dick wet, right baby? See you back out there.” 

He exits the bathroom and leaves you with slick running down your legs and your brain falling out of your ears. And he’s worried about you being the death of him?

You straighten yourself and use the bathroom for its intended purpose. Once back in the banquet hall, you pray to any god who will listen that you don’t look like you just got some dick. You see Nick and Matt in a conversation like he’d been here the whole time. When Dee asks why you look flustered, you lie and say you’re just a bit tired.

Nick overhears you talking to Dee and interjects himself into the conversation, “Why don’t we go get some fresh air? Don’t worry, Sis, I’ll take care of her.” Helping you out of your chair, you both say goodnight to those at dinner.

Nick takes you back to the cottage, pulling you behind him as he walks out onto the balcony. Crashing his lips to yours, his hands scrunch up the fabric of your dress until you feel the night air chill your skin. 

“Hands on the railing, baby,” he says, peeling your soaked panties from you.

Nick’s pushing inside you in the next breath and it’s like he belonged there all along. Holding onto your hips, he begins his onslaught. All you can do is hold yourself up and be happy that no one is walking down this road because fuck they would be able to see you getting absolutely railed without abandon.

Your grip on the railing is faltering as he slams into you and he takes pity on you. He uses the grip on your hips to pull you back so you sit on his lap while he sits in the wicker chair. He moves you up and down on his dick while saying the filthiest things to you.

Once your climax hits, his pace falters and he thrusts up into you. His tip hits your cervix as he pumps you full. He holds you against him and kisses up your neck as you lay back on his chest. For a few moments, all you both can do is breathe and caress each other.

His dick slips free of you and you feel his load dripping from your thoroughly used hole. 

“Come with me back to Virginia,” he whispers, surprising both of you, “Don’t say no just yet. Think about it. We don’t leave for a couple of days. I have not been this happy in a very long while and I think I make you happy too. Just think about it, Gumdrop.”

A million things go through your head at the thought of giving up your life in New Jersey. This was a big step after only a week of playing house. Your brain comes up with so many what-ifs and reasons to not leap. But then one thought sticks, and you smile.

When you know, you know.

January 27th, 2024 – Wedding Day

You were never a big crier, but you shed many tears watching your childhood best friend marry the love of her life. It fills you with hope that everything does happen for a reason. While listening to their vows, you wonder if you could ever make that type of commitment. At that moment, Nick squeezes your hand and you smile up at him. Like he could read your mind, he seems to always know what to do to give you comfort.

Then again, he has known you most of his life. And when you think about it, it has always been him. A distant memory replays in your head of him simply putting a band-aid on your skinned knee when you were nine and he was twelve. Even then, he was there for you with a smile and a friendly hug.

The wedding reception is an all-out party but you expect nothing less from the Fowlers. The music, the food, and the atmosphere are perfect. Dee enjoys herself and is just happy to be married to Matt. And you are so happy for her, to see her without a care in the world. 

Nick focuses on you the entire night, making sure you are comfortable and that you have everything you need. You sit in his lap, effectively confirming any rumors that may have spread about you two. His hand on your knee is warm and you want to sneak out of here and take him to the nearest closet. But he doesn’t let you move an inch once he has you in his clutches.

The wedding photographer snaps a pic of you squealing when Nick plants a sloppy kiss on your cheek. The guests around you simultaneously swoon and groan, depending on their relationship status. Not that you care, you had your man. That’s all that matters.

After the wedding, you and Nick sneak off to a secluded area of the beach to look up at the stars. Taking off your shoes, you don’t mind the sand between your toes. You spend most of the night on the beach, just enjoying each other’s company under the moon. 

You are lucky enough to see a few shooting stars, and you can’t stop yourself from making a wish or two. Wondering if Nick made a wish, you open your mouth to ask him but close it just as quickly. You know his wish already and only you could make it come true.

Coming back to the cottage is bittersweet. The last night of your vacation is spent lying naked with Nick. No sex, just intimate cuddling. You loved how safe you felt in his arms, and you couldn’t deny yourself this feeling.

January 28th, 2024

You’re nervous all morning and Nick tries his best to keep your mind off leaving the island. But all you want to do is spend all day in bed with him.

Saying goodbye to Dee that day is full of teary-eyed hand-holding, and you wouldn’t have it any other way. You hug her mother and father and thank them for inviting you. 

Nick drives you to the ferry, thinking for all the world that this is the last time he will see you. But like you continue to do, you surprise him when he’s helping you with your bags.

“So, I have some things to clear up in Jersey, but I was thinking Valentine’s Day is just a couple of weeks away. You can come to my place and we can spend some time together. I may not be ready to move 7 hours away just yet. But I know that I am not ready to be without you. I want you to know that I want this, whatever this is,” you admit, gesturing between the two of you.

“I can be amenable to that. On one condition,” he offers, taking your hands in his.

“And what is that one condition, Nicky?” you press, wondering what else he could want or if your terms weren’t enough.

“When we are with each other again, I get to call you my girl. That’s it. Be mine, and all that?” he laughs, watching as the frown lines on your forehead disappear and a smile grows on your face.

“You had me for a second, Nicky. But, why wait? I’m all yours already. Plus, I’ve already planted my flag in your back pocket,” you tease, snaking your hand around to goose him.

“So that would make me your man, then? And you’re my girl. Makes me wanna ask what made you decide to try this with me?” he hesitates, half wanting an answer and the other half just happy that you said yes.

“Hey, like I always say,” you start, wrapping your arms around his neck, “When you know, you know.”

END…?

A/N: All of the places in this story are real, this is not an advertisement for Ocracoke Island, NC btw. I just loved vacationing here so much, that I wanted to use it in a story lol.

**Tag List** (since I never wrote for Nick, I didn't know who else to tag)

@gummydummy19 @blackwood4stucky

Let me know if you wanna be added (or removed) 😁

My BINGO Card:

[tealfloyd]

THE PREFECT'S SHOW — INTRODUCTION

Often times, experiences serve as valuable learning opportunities, so it's only natural that the Prefect of Ramshackle has some very interesting ones. Right?

NUMBER OF WORDS: 436.

A/N: I know, I know. It's been a year since I last updated (for the ones that know that I was in an indefinite hiatus). Honestly, I didn't have the will to write for a while given that university work is no joke, but I've had this idea for a new format for a while, so for my return I decided to upload it. It's super short but it's merely an introduction.

Either way, I'll try to answer requests again, since this is so much fun. Thank you for reading my rambles. Please, enjoy ❤️

“Is this on?”

You weren't sure if the camera Idia lent you was even on; the only thing you were sure of is that it wasn't crooked, at the very least. “I don't know... Idia has very weird tech. I hope it doesn't explode or something," you mumbled before sitting on the chair in front of your desk, shrugging your shoulders in acceptance.

“So, uh, hello, I guess? My name's MC. I'm half of a student here at Night Raven College and have been here in Twisted Wonderland for about..." You backed up a little to look at the calendar, wincing for a bit before turning back to the camera lens. "Half a year, approximately."

With a sigh, you continued.

“If you're watching this, congratulations. You're one of the people that has the pleasure to see the last bits of my sanity before it crumbles away in this school," you explained, letting out yet another sigh at your exaggerated—although not quite—remark. "I read somewhere that recording your experiences was therapeutic. Now, if it's true or not, I'm not sure, but I'm not one to deny something without trying it first, so here I am."

"Besides, Ace gave me the idea. Yesterday, when we were having lunch, he said:

'You know, I was thinking about how the Prefect's stories would make a really good show. I mean, if it wasn't because I met her, I would've thought that all of this was a Magiflix show.'"

“Everyone laughed,” you said with a deadpan face, “but I didn't."

“I know. It's far from the kinds of anecdotes you get told on the Internet,” you accommodated yourself into a more comfortable position, hugging your right leg and leaving the other one on the chair, ready to spill the tea, as Idia would say, “but don't despair, for I—"

You were about to talk again when your phone buzzed, signaling an emergency given how close it was to fall over the edge. Sighing, you immediately recognized Ace's name on the screen, inwardly hoping for some kind of miracle that it wasn't what you expected: an emergency.

“Speaking of the devil,” you showed your phone to the camera, picking up while reaching your arm towards the device, looking for the turn-off button. "Please, don't tell me it's an emergency. Uh-huh... Uh-huh... NO, TAKE GRIM OUT OF THERE—"

VIDEO OVER. WISH TO REPLAY?

DON'T REPOST.

EVERY CHARACTER BELONGS TO DISNEY AND YANA TOBOSO, AND I DON'T TAKE CREDIT FOR THEM.

[elminx]

DIY Egg Candle Molds For New Beginnings

I've been working on my candlemaking skills for a while now with mitigating success but these are the easiest candles I have ever made.

I really like these for all kinds of spring spell work. They would work perfectly for a Spring Solstice or May Day spell but I also see them as a perfect vessel for a spell to invoke new beginnings. I personally associate eggs with pure potentiality.

Here the goal is to create an egg candle with the "Seed" of your intention, then incubate your intention, and finally burn your candle to hatch your magic into the real world.

Note: This is not a magical how-to on how to CAST a spell, this is a how-to on how to make a vessel for your spell. I expect you to bring your own magic and traditions to this.

For this project you will need:

One egg (probably chicken but goose or duck works too)

A pokey tool

Candle Wax*

A wax-safe container for melting

A wick

Something to stabilize your eggshell (egg cartons work fine)

Scents, wax color, powdered botanicals (optional)

I'm assuming here that if you're interested in this project, you have some experience with candlemaking and the right tools to do so. If not, you can buy a basic candlemaking kit nearly anywhere on the internet that includes some wax, a wax boiler, and wicks. *I would suggest using beeswax for this candle as it will help the candle to maintain its shape as it burns. Soy wax has a low burn point and tends to melt which will deform the shape of your candle more quickly

1. Clean out your Egg

You need to make a small hole at the top of your egg with a pokey tool. I used a knife to make the hole and then inserted a chopstick to whip the insides so the yoke would come out. Pour out the egg (and eat it! Yumm!) and then wash it until the water running out of the egg runs clear. From this step, you want the inside of the egg to dry out - you can put it into a 200°f oven for two hours or let it sit out until it dries (it may take a couple of days depending on your humidity levels).

Letting your egg dry out isn't strictly necessary but if you don't take this step, the egg membrane will stick to your candle. This will make more work for you when you remove the egg mold later.

Note: My friend gave me two goose eggs to try, so I used them for this test run of egg-shaped candles. If you use chicken eggs, they will be significantly smaller (3/4 the size probably).

2. Heat wax in a double boiler until it is fully melted.

You can add in anything that supports your intention here: scents, coloring, or powdered herbs/flowers work well. (please practice good fire safety here and only add in things that are safe for candlemaking)

Note: if you are adding botanicals to your wax, you want to be very careful to make sure they are fully powdered or they may cause a fire.

3. Pour Your Wax

Place your eggshell mold in an egg carton for stabilization and carefully pour the hot wax into your mold. You want to fill to the top as much as you can - the wax may settle as it starts to cool so you may want to add more.

Note: the hole in your egg should be wide enough to accommodate pouring your wax. I used an extra flask funnel I had on hand to facilitate this process.

4. Add Your Wick

Let your wax cool slightly (approximately 10 minutes) and then add in your wick. With a chicken egg, you can use a birthday candle for this step or any wick that you have on hand. You can use a wick stabilizer or chopsticks to keep your wick in place while your wax hardens.

5. Cure Your Candle

Candles should cure for 7-10 days (for beeswax, this may differ for other types - do your research!) before you burn them. Though there is some debate on the internet, it is generally considered true that curing is a part of candle safety as a young candle that has not properly hardened can burn unevenly which may cause fires.

You can choose to begin the process of changing/incubating your candle (listed below) during the curing stage.

6. Remove Your Shell

Once your candle is done curing, it is time to remove the eggshell. For chicken eggs purchased from the grocery store, this should be a relatively easy process. Simply roll your egg candle on a hard surface until the shell cracks and then carefully peal the eggshell away from the wax.

If you are using non-chicken egg or a farm-fresh egg, the shell may be more difficult to crack. I used a goose egg for my candle so I had to use a tool to remove the shell - I used a dental pick that my partner uses for clay sculpting.

Take your time with this process, if you use tools, it is easy to scratch the surface of your egg.

7. Incubate/Charge Your Egg Candle

Unless you added magic during the wax step in this process (which is totally valid), this is where the major magic begins. You want to imbue your magic into the egg at this stage - this can be done in any way that suits your level of creativity and your personal practice. You can carve your intention directly into the wax or mark it with bindrunes or sigils. You can charge it with energy. You can dedicate it to a particular deity or spirit that you work closely with or set it on your altar. You can charge it in the sunlight or moonlight (beware of low-temperature wax and high heat from the sun here). You can make it a nest full of objects that represent your intentions.

The goal in this step is to build your intention by returning to your egg over a period of time (or, alternatively, letting it sit in a way that charges it) before you burn it to release this intention. You can use numerology here by choosing a number that aligns with your intentions, or begin your incubation on the new moon and burn your candle on the full moon.

Pro-tip here: Chicken eggs need to incubate for around 21 days so this is a good number to use if your mold was a chicken egg, or you otherwise work with chickens in your craft.

Note: This was a test on the applicability of this method, but I couldn't help but enchant my candle. I carved my intentions into my candle and then glued (with wax) dried violets onto my candle because I use violets in my craft to encourage transformation. I also used other methods to create a vessel for magic.

8. Use Your Charged Egg Candle in a Magic Ritual

The majority of work is already done here, the rest, as they say, is up to you. Because egg shells are round, you will need to find some way to stabilize the bottom of your candle while you burn it. You could choose to level the bottom of the candle or use any other method that works for you.

I happened to have a piece of pottery from a friend that made the perfect stand for an egg-shaped candle.

______________________________________________________________

Do you like my work? I am doing a fundraiser over on my KoFi page to help pay off an unexpected bill. You can tip me there, commission me to write an astrology report for you, or sign up to be a monthly supporter of my writing.

[brekk3red]

On Lizzie and Tommy Shelby

☆ A Yapping Session ☆

Notes: I've recently finished the last episode of Peaky Blinders and I have so much on my mind regarding the relationship between Lizzie and Thomas. There simply isn't enough content online to accommodate for my internet surfing, so I'll post my thoughts on here instead, mainly about why I don't think the ship would ever work out. Spoilers and (probably) many grammatical errors after the cut!

It isn't that I don't want to like Lizzie x Tommy - in fact, I was on my knees the entire show praying that they would work out. Eventually, though, I lose hope seeing their relationship struggle to move beyond a painful, one-sided love for the majority of the entire show (except towards the end, but more on that later). It gets to a point where they need a miracle to work.

I should also mention Grace. To me, her significance in the show seems greater when she's dead than alive. I didn't even think that she would make an appearance again after season 1, and that her role is to solidify the distrust Thomas has in others (caused by their entanglements followed by her betrayal). I don't dislike her at all, but I don't think I ever got the chance to truly invest myself in her story before she is already killed. What the show stresses most is the impact her death leaves on Thomas. He is tortured by grief, self-blame, guilt, etc.. So while I don't care much for Grace x Tommy, it's not difficult to see that Thomas will never love anyone as much as he loves Grace.

As for Lizzie, she is who Thomas turns to after Grace's death. They haven't had much of a romantic history beforehand, but a sexual one turned professional when he offers her a job as his secretary (I will try to avoid recounting everything in the show lest this gets boring). During this time, Lizzie acts as his emotional crutch. This doesn't mean much, just that he uses her body to distract himself from the grieving of his late wife. Although he is the one to promise her complete exemption from her past job as a prostitute, he breaks that promise once at the Derby race, then again by basically treating her like one to cope with the loss of his wife. The only difference now is that she is exclusive to Thomas, almost willingly so because she harbours feelings for him.

Their sexual relationship continues throughout the seasons, and he turns to her once more when memories of Greta (pre-war Thomas' lover) resurfaces. So really, up to this point, there isn't a time when he has sex with Lizzie, with Lizzie in mind.

Lizzie's pregnancy prompts their marriage due to the stigmas surrounding children born of wedlock at the time, so it obviously isn't out of love. Nothing particular changes afterwards and Lizzie remains a long shot from ever comparing to Grace. I probably will go back to this topic a lot, but the difference between Thomas’ interactions with Grace contrary to other women is huge. Their sex scenes (often in slow-motion with backing music, etc.) is exceptionally intimate in contrast to the furniture-thumping, lustful fucking he has with prostitutes. Lizzie unfortunately falls into the latter category. Where even well into their marriage, she has to personally demand they do it on the bed.

That whole episode really stands out to me regarding their relationship. Thomas has no qualms in bedding other women while married to her, and Lizzie knows this. Yet she only goes as far as to forbid him from doing it in their own home and not within a day of holding their daughter’s hand (I think). It’s pitiful and only gets worse when Thomas drops the statement that she is “his property” and no one else may touch her. That sounds like something younger me would read on Wattpad and giggle and kick my feet (shame on me), but there is nothing commendable or romantic about this. While Lizzie has to negotiate against his cheating, he brazenly chalks her up as an asset in his inventory, like he would a car or a horse. Possessiveness also isn't love (‼️). There is a clear power imbalance in their dynamics; Lizzie is never in control, Thomas is. He almost never listens to anyone, let alone her. It is always him who makes the decisions and she could argue all she wants but inevitably, she would have to be the one to submit.

More specifically about Thomas' infidelity, I would understand if he has sex with other women for the sake of furthering his plans, such as with Jessie. After all, he isn't in love with Lizzie or their political marriage, so it wouldn't burden him to cheat on her if it means that he gets what he wants logically. However, he doesn't just do that. He hires prostitutes and speaks to Lizzie within the span of seconds and doesn't bat an eye. At some point even basic respect is lacking in their relationship, a relationship that Lizzie has been so loyal to, yet she is constantly met with nothing but humiliation. She holds the title of being his wife, but what supports it other than some rings and legal documents?

Heading towards the last few episodes, Thomas strives to change his ways due to false news about his impending death. He becomes more considerate of Lizzie, shows his care more often and more openly, but their relationship couldn't be salvaged with the given time constraints. At some point, Thomas says "I love you" for what is probably the first time. The way I see it, though, is that he is pushing himself to love her because he knows that is what she wants, what will make her happy. It couldn't, and doesn't work, especially given the short time they have. Even if what he says is true, Lizzie ends up leaving him.

I like this ending. Thomas is right when he says that she deserves better. My gorgeous, breath-taking, soul-stealing queen does deserve better than him and it's about time they let go of whatever relationship they have. While Thomas cares for Lizzie immensely, their relationship is more toxic than not and he ultimately couldn't give her what she needs and deserves after all these years. Sometimes things don't work out and that's okay. I hope that they do not return to each other in the movie (if it comes out), but find separate, better lives for themselves.

Notes: that is all of my late night rant, i may just be spewing nonsense atp so do tell me if i've gotten anything wrong or if you have different takes on these topics. thank yew (❁´◡`❁)

[mychemicalore]

Here Is Three Cheers For My Chemical Romance!

We are in a new age of music with new gadgets to accommodate that music, and it's pushing us into the future. How do you position yourself on music downloads, for or against?

Downloading is a good thing, protected under the federal laws. The way I've always felt about music downloading is this. If you are curious and want to find out what a band sounds like, then go download it. If you like it, go buy it. If you hate it, well then there's really no reason to buy it. But ultimately, a band's record sales support them personally, so if you want the artist to be able to go live and work then you should pick up their music... for the cheapest price possible.

from a Hot Topic Interview w/ Gerard (04/2005) , full interview under the cut

HT: Some people are just beginning to discover your success. How long has the band been together and jamming?

Gerard: The band has been together 3 years. Another interesting fact is that the band has yet to "jam." It's never been the kind of situation where we sit around and search for songs. The songs find us, we assemble, and put the pieces together.

HT: You guys write music that follows some type of concept. Does this help you write the music and do you mind giving us a breakdown of how a concept is brought to the writing table?

Gerard: The concepts for the songs almost always come from the music. How the music makes us feel dictates where the direction lies. Occasionally, the song concept will come from a long list of unused song titles I have sitting in my mom's computer. They will sometimes find a home.

HT: If you were stranded on a deserted island with only 3 albums to jam out to, which ones would you choose?

Gerard: This is a tough one but I would probably go with The Queen Is Dead by The Smiths, Walk Among Us by The Misfits, and Music For Airports by Brian Eno.

HT: How did the band feel before going into the studio to write Three Cheers... with producer Howard Benson (Motorhead, POD, Hoobastank, etc.)?

Gerard: The band was nervous, scared, excited, and anxious but all very positive and looking forward to what we were about to make, which, by the way, had no definite shape or sound.

HT: You guys have been on tour forever! What's one of the things you love most about being on the road?

Gerard: The camaraderie you share with your band mates and other bands is priceless. The victories and defeats you have everyday are immeasurable when compared to other lifestyles or careers. The risk and hardship are great but when you have 3,000 people sing back your words, you win like no one ever wins.

HT: Gerard, does anyone ever mistaken you for Billy Corgan?

Gerard: When I was younger, it would happen all the time. When he shaved his head, people thought I was him with a wig on. He is, in fact, a lot taller than me.

HT: Do you guys get to spend a lot of time on the internet? What are some of your favorite sites to visit?

Gerard: We don't get on the internet much, but when we do, some of our favorite sites are www.homestarrunner.com, www.absolutepunk.net, and www.americandreamcomics.com

HT: We are in a new age of music with new gadgets to accommodate that music, and it's pushing us into the future. How do you position yourself on music downloads, for or against?

Gerard: Downloading is a good thing, protected under the federal laws. The way I've always felt about music downloading is this. If you are curious and want to find out what a band sounds like, then go download it. If you like it, go buy it. If you hate it, well then there's really no reason to buy it. But ultimately, a band's record sales support them personally, so if you want the artist to be able to go live and work then you should pick up their music... for the cheapest price possible.

HT: What's a question you wish was never asked from a fan or interview?

Gerard: Hmm..."Would you please bite me on the neck?"

[myfaceaches]

hi im an ask here to give you an excuse to talk about serirei sex headcanons. i wanna hear them

Helloo thank you so much for asking + giving me an excuse, because I have so many sitting around in my head. I’ll list them below in no particular order:

I say this in the most positive way ever— they have very vanilla, sappy sex. Here and there they’ll experiment because they’re very open and communicative with each other about that, but for the most part, very sappy and vanilla.

Reigen is aspec, and has a very complex relationship with sex. I don’t think he’d even know there was a term for it until he’s dating Serizawa and they’re on the topic of sex and Reigen brings up his relationship with it. Given Serizawa spent so many years as a shut-in and the internet was one of the only things he had, he’d be very well-versed in labels alongside many other things, and he’d probably be the one to tell Reigen, “Arataka, do you think you might be on the asexual spectrum?” On the topic of that, it would take a while in their relationship for them to have sex, and Reigen would be the one to initiate it (something Serizawa never even expects out of Reigen). Reigen having sex with Serizawa revolves more around the vulnerability and the intimacy rather than the actual attraction. He gets pleasure out of making Serizawa feel good, and that’s his priority in most of their sexual encounters. He feels comfortable and assured by Serizawa in ways he never thought were possible, and it allows him to view sex as something deeper when it comes to Serizawa. He can only imagine it being this way with Serizawa, no matter how much he tries to imagine how things would play out being close with other people.

They don’t have specific places in regards to topping, bottoming, dominating, being submissive, etc., it kind of comes naturally to them in the moment during foreplay. Though, if I were to place labels, Reigen would lean more towards being a power bottom and a service top, and Serizawa tends to place the deciding in Reigen’s hands, but also communicates about when he wants to be the one in control; nonetheless, Serizawa is very gentle and also tends to focus on Reigen’s pleasure. They’re both very motivated by making the other feel really good.

Reigen’s strap-on is the same color as his tie, and the first time Serizawa is about to get pegged he notices it and laughs. To this day he doesn’t know if Reigen chose that color subconsciously or purposefully, but either way it seems to be his signature color now.

Out of the two, Reigen is more squirmy and sensitive. Serizawa eats Reigen out one time and Reigen accidentally clamps his legs together and crushes his head. Where with, Serizawa he is mostly just touch starved and melts easily at any affectionate, tender gesture.

Serizawa is noisy and more often than not fails to suppress his moans. Reigen does a better job being able to silence himself, mostly out of fear of appearing too vulnerable (this is mostly something he worries about early on in their relationship), and also because he doesn’t want his neighbors hearing. That would be embarrassing for them.

They are HEAVY on foreplay, and often get each other so worked up that by the time they actually get into having sex, they don’t last long.

Serizawa has a praise kink. He melts at Reigen’s words of encouragement and affirmation. Even before they were dating, Serizawa always found himself oddly affected by Reigen’s praises (ex: “You did really good today, Serizawa! How about some ramen?”, “You’re quite the powerful psychic.”, et cetera).

On the contrast, Reigen leans more towards having a degradation kink. He can’t accept much praise without trying to deflect or pull a one-up or a “No, you” type thing, but it still makes him melt, because Serizawa knows what to say and when Reigen gets overwhelmed by it.

To add on, Serizawa has a hard time accommodating Reigen’s degradation kink at first, given he’d never refer to him like that in any other setting. Throughout time he gets more comfortable trying, though. While they’re having sex one time, Serizawa, albeit very bashfully, calls him a slut, and it makes Reigen cum prematurely (my friend Brandy actually brought this headcanon to life and made a comic about it. Godbless you bro).

Serizawa is very, very clingy during and after sex.

Before dating, Reigen moans Serizawa’s first name while masturbating and he calls off the next day because he wouldn’t have been able to look him in the eye.

OKAY THANKS BYE

[wooahaeruby]

Chapter 10: Light Always Brings Shadows

Chapter Word Count: 5,139

Anything in Bold Italics are Korean/Another language.

Master List | Prev | Next

Possible TW: States for someone to unalive themselves.

You were being kidnapped. 

Okay, well not kidnapped kidnapped, but as you were pulled down the streets, arm and arm with Mingyu and Seokmin, it felt like it. 

You had woken up early for a technician to set up your internet services, thanking him profusely and sending him off with a bow. Nothing was really on your agenda for the day, maybe going out and finding a furniture store, you needed to go food shopping too- 

You had spent the morning getting ready, throwing on a loose, black t-shirt and light wash denim shorts to accommodate for the humid weather outside. On your phone, you made a list of everything you thought you needed, checking your bank account to see if you had enough for what you needed. 

Before noon, a loud series of knocks rattled through your apartment. Knitting your eyebrows together, you hurried to the display screen to see who was knocking, met with the sight of two face-masked people, one dressed in an oversized graphic t-shirt and shorts while the other in a polo and black jeans. The two figures weren’t hard to discern, and you quickly opened the door. 

Mingyu and Seokmin stood before you, being able to see the grins that lit up their eyes rather than see the expression fully from the mask obscuring it. Puzzled, you opened your mouth to speak but Mingyu beat you to the punch.

“ You have two minutes to get ready before we grab your things and we head out the door.” 

And when you let them in to look around while you gathered your things, you weren’t fast enough apparently. Mingyu had started to complain, Seokmin jokingly followed along and rushed you to grab everything. Both were calling out things they wanted to do or show you, buzzing with ideas and complaints that you were taking too long. 

Once you were ready enough, Mingyu took your arm and hurried you out, barely giving time for you to slide on some sneakers and grab a mask. 

“ Alright so first we are going to get lunch, then we are going to take you to the market, then-” If you weren’t so proficient in Korean, you would have missed half of Mingyu’s words with how fast he spoke. “ Jihoon-hyung already took you to the Hybe building but we can show you around the dance rooms and the work out area-” 

“Ya, you are taking too much! You're giving it all away!” Seokmin, standing on your other side, reached over and hit the giant on the shoulder, Mingyu only pulling you into the elevator.

“It’s like I’m with Jamie and Kazuki all over again.” You said to yourself in English, letting the taller of the two pull you along while you attempted to put the mask on. “ Is Jihoon coming with us?” 

“ Nope.” They said in unison, causing you to internally regret answering the door. 

Please save me, you thought. 

So maybe it wasn’t that bad of an idea. 

Did they pay for lunch? Yes and it was the best fried chicken you have ever eaten in your life. You had taken down the name to order more in the future.

Mingyu and Seokmin had too much fun showing you around the area, taking taxis to different locations or walking about the city. It was fun, much like your days exploring and going out with Jamie and Kazuki. These two were much like your beloved friends. 

Seokmin insisted on taking pictures, saying you needed more aesthetic shots for the time you start posting on your instagram, having you pose around the stops you went to. Some shots you kept your mask on for privacy while others you removed it and let him take candid and fun shots. The idea did have you rolling your eyes but his sweet smile and outward enthusiasm at the suggestions had you following his instructions. 

“ Ruby-ah, give me your phone.” The oldest of you three asked, letting his camera hang around his neck. “ I have an idea.”

Curious, you raised a brow and tilted your head, fishing your phone from your pocket and handed it over. “ What do you have in mind?” 

Ignoring your question, he motioned for you to go back to posing, having you sit down on a bench on the edge of the Han River. The sun was getting low but golden hour was nearly upon you. Quickly, he moved Mingyu back and stood a decent bit behind the bench, opening your camera and waiting for the exact moment he wanted. You sat comfortably, relaxing the best you could with the knowledge that Seokmin was taking pictures of you from behind. 

When he hurried back to sit with you, the wide smile on his face told you he was pleased with his pictures. Taking your phone back and unlocking it, you pulled up the pictures and were a little blown away. The pictures themself were simple, yet the golden light that washed over the area enhanced it. A majority of the picture of the scenery that surrounded you and in the middle sat you on the bench, not the full focus. More often than not you were someone who took the photos than be in them but this one was nice. It didn’t focus too heavily on you, which you loved and it felt nice to have a memory captured so you could look back on your first days here in Korea. 

“ You should post that one sometime.” Mingyu hovered close to you, peering at the picture. 

Looking between the two, you smiled and nodded. “ Maybe I will when things die down with everything.” You hadn’t told anyone aside from Jihoon that you set your instagram to private, or that hundreds of thousands of people were requesting to follow you. 

Speaking of Jihoon, he had been messaging you most of the day and to his probable disappointment, Mingyu took your phone each time you attempted to reply. With your phone still in your hand, you opened Kakao Talk, seeing the multitude of messages. You do take note that there were very cute emojis accompanying some of those texts and the last reply made you laugh 

[Jihoon 5:43pm] 

Please tell Mingyu that I will kill him later. Get home safe. 

With the spoken of man still looking over your shoulder, you hear him mockingly repeat the words. He pulled the mask down some and showed you his pout, a childish frown reflecting back to you. You had just replied with a series of emojis and an ‘okay’ before placing your phone back down.

“ What? He was the one that sent the message.” You scoff, slipping the mask back on your face fully. 

“ I get you are his soulmate, but you're my friend now.” 

“ Our friend.” Seokmin threw his arm over your shoulder, resting his head against yours.

Taking in the last rays of light, the three of you sat in comfortable silence outside of the quiet sounds of the city around you. Today was nice although you didn’t get anything done that you should have got done. You were tired but not exhausted, your feet hurt and you’d definitely feel the ache tomorrow, yet that didn’t matter. 

“ Do you guys want ice cream?” You raised the question, feeling the two perk up on either side, prompting them to give small cheers and stand, pulling you with them. 

They had taken you to a cafe not far from the river and in the general direction you needed to head back home. It was a quaint little shop, walking in gave you a homey cafe vibe. A majority of the counters and all of the tables were light colored wood with white accents and soft piano played through the speakers. It wasn’t too busy and there were plenty of spots free to sit and enjoy your treats. 

Each of you happily placed an order; Mingyu went for mint chocolate chip, Seokmin ordered a small dark chocolate sundae, and for yourself, you got cookie dough ice cream with brownie pieces mixed in. You see Seokmin pull his wallet from his pocket, but you beat him, handing your card to the woman behind the counter. You muttered something about it being your idea and that it was only far after all they did with you today. 

For now, you took a spot at a table towards the back by a window, letting your eyes be drawn to the lights of the city and the cars that sped by. It was quieter than back home, something about it felt so much more comforting. While you really only needed to worry about Mingyu and Seokmin being recognized and possibly you being recognized because of it, you weren’t too uncomfortable with the life you believed you could lead here. To combat the move and the change in job requirements, you would have some time to figure out the ins and outs of being a foreigner here and navigate what being a superstar's soulmate was. 

Mingyu had got up to collect your order when the number was called, leaving you to stare out the window, mask pulled down now that you were preparing to eat. 

“ I think you are going to like it here, Ruby-ah.” Seokmin hummed as he sat across from you, resting his chin in his hand and gazing out the window himself. “ You are one of us now and we protect our own.” 

You snorted but didn’t move your eyes. “ I appreciate it. I think I’ll need all the help I’ll get.” You let yourself smile, noticing him looking at your reflection. 

“ But I'll still hold it over Jihoon-hyung’s head that you are an Scoups bias.” 

And there went the nice little mood between you both. Reaching over you hit his arm, hearing him laugh with small snorts of air occasionally being heard. 

An easy silence blanketed the three of you when Mingyu returned with everything. Both you and Seokmin teased the taller man about his choice in treat, laughing harder when he sulked and ate the ice cream with a pout on his lips.

Towards the end of your little outing, your phone began to buzz on the table, lighting up to show Mimi trying to call. Quickly you stood, excusing yourself as you tossed your trash onto the tray, wanting to step outside and take the call. 

“Hey Mimi-” 

“ Alright kid,” The sound of Papa’s voice caught you off guard but you snickered, leaning against the side of the building. “ When are you going to facetime or something with that little kpop music boy soulmate of yours?” 

“ Papa, his name is Jihoon,” You lowered your voice as you said his name,” and I haven’t seen him today. His friends took me out to see around the city.” 

Now you heard Mimi’s voice and a ramble about Papa taking her phone. “ Sweetheart, don’t listen to him, he is just wants to intimidate the poor boy or at least try over the phone.” You knew it was early for them, but they were early birds that got up before the sun rose half the time.

“How about this, I’ll talk to him once I get back and we can figure out a time to call you, okay? Then you can meet him and when you finalize the trip here you can actually meet him in person.” 

“ Good, it's late for you so make sure you get home safe and-” 

Her words were cut short by liquid splashing you in the face, not once but twice. Whatever it was was cold and seeped into your clothes, sending chills wracking through you. In the distance you hear Mimi’s voice asking if you were still there, but you couldn’t reply due to the shock. 

Raising your eyes, you were met with a masked girl with an empty cup in hand, her glare piercing your soul. The first thing out of her mouth wasn’t words but rather her pulling the mask down and spitting at your feet. One glance around had you take note of three more girls by her, one with the other empty cup of whatever they threw on you and another taking a video aimed at you. Insults came flying at you, and it felt like your throat was closing as you choked up but no tears were shed yet. You couldn’t give them the satisfaction. 

The door to the shop swung open and a broad body stood before you, protecting you from the camera and the girls. The words were fuzzy in your ears but you could hear the anger that radiated within Mingyu’s and Seokmin’s voices as they said something to the girls. Their footsteps were heard but you crumbled at the words shouted back as they rushed off. 

“ If he didn’t die with you, I wish you’d kill yourself.”

Your phone had been going off nonstop but you couldn’t bring yourself to answer it. Fear and anxiety had spread through every inch of your body from Jihoon’s side of the bond. Seokmin had comforted you while Mingyu basically covered both of you as he called management and asked for a car to come bring you home. 

“ Hyung, I’ll explain when we get back, stop calling.” Mingyu whisper-yelled the phone, turning his back to you as he spoke. “ I don’t want to talk about this in the middle of the sidewalk while we wait for the car.” 

A worker from inside had brought paper towels out, helping you clean up any of the mystery liquid that drenched you. You couldn’t tell if it was soda or another sweet drink, but you felt sticky and the longer you sat in it, the more you thought you might throw up.

When the manager pulled up, he quickly got you in the car, wrapping a towel around your shoulders to hopefully keep you warm. 

Since getting off the phone with your grandmother, you didn’t say much. Aside from answering that you were okay, you stayed relatively quiet. The manager had asked if you could explain what happened once returning and you nodded, but the idea only had you shutting down mentally. 

You had barely made it out of the van in the underground parking lot before Jihoon was upon you. The warm buzz of the proximity did nothing to ease the numbness that built up within. The panic that showed in his eyes had you getting choked up once more. Both of his hands came up and held your face, scanning for any injuries. Though finding none, he only saw the pain that you tried to keep locked up behind your eyes regardless of the bond you share. 

“ Let’s get upstairs.” Their manager ushered everyone into the building and elevator. 

Damage control was going to be needed, it was evident the moment you realized the camera was recording the entire assault. Their team would need to put out statements and cover their bases on protecting you and the members, specifically Jihoon. 

The entire ride up the elevator, Jihoon was restless, reaching out hesitantly to provide comfort but the anger that coursed between the bond probably wasn’t helping. If you didn’t feel so lousy, it might have been funny. He looked calm, arms now crossed over his chest, but you could see the way his jaw set and how tense he was by the tight balling of his fists. 

Shuffling down the long hall to your apartment, you held the towel tightly around you. You didn’t realize how cold you were until now. 

You let everyone into your home, kicking your shoes off without much care and stood with uncertainty written on your face in the middle of the barren living room. With similar uncertainty, they stood about before their manager coughed and shifted his eyes to your slightly shivering frame. 

“ Why don’t you go shower and get changed. I’ll talk to these two for now.” 

Giving him a blank stare for a moment, you gave the smallest tilt of a nod and trudged through towards your room to grab a change of clothes then into the bathroom. 

Peeling off each layer of clothing, your skin crawled, your body twitched and shook with nauseating discomfort and overstimulation. You couldn’t bother to look in the mirror, knowing you definitely looked as horrible as you felt. The hair on the back of your neck stood when the warm water first hit your sticky skin and you were quick to start scrubbing yourself down. 

Though you had scrubbed yourself down twice already, you still didn’t feel clean. You were no longer covered in whatever they doused you in and your skin was red and irritated from the pressure you applied but it didn’t feel like enough. Your movements faltered and you dropped the bottle of body soap, hearing the clattering of the object bounce about the tub. 

Watching the bottle slide to a stop at your feet, you stared at it with such…hatred, even if it wasn’t what was remotely offending you. You shut the water off and dried yourself, dressing in worn out sweatpants and a sweatshirt. Throwing the towel over your head, you left the bathroom, muttering a greeting as you entered back into the room. Mingyu and Seokmin had left but Jihoon and the manager were sitting on the floor looking at something on the latter’s phone until you made your appearance. 

You joined them on the floor, practically leaning all your weight onto Jihoon once you settled. The hum that crept under your skin was easy to distract from the emotions you were desperately trying to suppress. 

Much to your displeasure, you recount the events from early. You didn’t realize you were rambling but neither of them bothered to stop you. Explaining the specifics had the anger that bubbled in the bond intensifying. 

“ Did they say anything to you?” 

You hold your breath in for a moment, letting the foul phrase reply in your mind over and over. Shaking off the thought, you focus back on the question and sighed. 

“ They were insulting me but the only thing I really heard was ‘If he didn’t die with you, I wish you’d kill yourself’.”

Seething, he was absolutely seething. His blood was boiling though he tried to keep it under wraps to simply be there for you. 

Hearing what they said to you, how you said it with your tone so void of any emotion, he wanted to yell, get angry at something, anything. 

He could feel the fatigue seeping through the bond. As you leaned against him, he easily supported you, even leaning some of his weight back to maybe give you the feeling that he was there for you. At least he hoped that was what his motion offered. 

Across from where you both sat, he watched as his manager typed quickly on his screen. Similar to himself, he looked mad. There was probably a million and one things on his mind to mitigate the situation and find a way to better protect you. While he knew that you and the guys had fun thanks to Mingyu’s texts and Seokmin’s pictures that were sent, he had a feeling it was going to be a bad idea. 

If he was to admit it, maybe Jihoon was a little jealous of the happiness that flowed through the bond. He wasn’t the one to cause it and the two 97 liners didn’t even tell him until Mingyu texted him when you didn’t reply. He had been sulking all day in his room until Soonyoung barged in and dragged him out, saying something about his soulmate craving salty food and needing something to soothe the desire stat then hit the gym. 

Jihoon had been sitting on a bench in the Hybe gym, giving himself a short rest and watching Soonyoung’s form as he performed bicep curls. He stood up, ready to take the weights from the other and show him something when the shiver struck down his spine. He didn’t feel your panic at first, only the shock that had him frozen in place. You had been content a moment ago, even texted him back not half an hour prior. When the shock faded into disbelief and humiliation shrouded in overwhelming gloom, his heart jumped to his throat. 

His phone was in his hand before Soonyoung could ask what was wrong. The latter could see the rush of emotions that washed over him and the panic in his eyes while he frantically fumbled to call you. He didn’t bother to excuse himself, rushing out the door and taking the stairs two steps at a time instead of waiting on the elevator. Jihoon tried calling you first, then Seokmin but got no answers from either. When he got a hold of Mingyu, he didn’t realize he was yelling into the phone until he was hung up on. 

He called a taxi and waited in the parking lot of the apartment building, pacing anxiously until you showed up. The pull he felt towards you wouldn’t soothe him until the door to the van opened and he took your face into his hands. His eyes ran over every feature, every wet piece of hair that stuck to your skin, making sure you had no injuries. 

Part of him swore he’d never let anyone hurt you again yet he knew that he couldn’t protect you from everything. He couldn’t be with you every moment of the day, however he promised himself he’d be your shoulder to cry on if needed. 

Jihoon had no doubt you could feel how angry he was, how disappointed he was. If the buzz of contact between you wasn’t pacifying his anger and oncoming outburst the slightest bit, he would have lost it by now. 

His manager had asked further questions, typing down the details you gave even if they were repetitive. PR was going to put an announcement out and Jihoon would push for any and all legal action if any one of those people were caught or the video was found online. 

“ I’m going to send all this to the team and will have an announcement out by the end of the night, for now just stay home and take it easy.” 

You barely stirred beside him as the manager stood and gave a bow, letting himself out without much of a fuss. 

For someone who could give decent advice, he was speechless. Each string of words he attempted to put together sounded to dumb or too simple. So he did what he could do; take some deep breaths to calm himself and place an arm around your shoulders in comfort, tucking you in close to his side and resting his cheek against the top of your head. 

He could feel something in you just…break, the dam of every repressed feeling flooding through you into him; the humiliating, the sorrow, and the shock. The fabric of his shirt clung to his skin, tears drenching it as you weeped. Raising his arm and head, he tucked you into his chest, both arms now coming to hold you protectively, shielding whatever imaginary audience from seeing you sob. Gently he ran his hand up and down the expanse of your back. 

“ Let it out…” He murmured, letting his eyes fall closed.

And you cried in his arms, opening sobbing.

This wasn’t like previous times where you were panicking. You were harassed and assaulted on the street by crazy assholes, you had no way to defend yourself and they recorded you for whatever sick humor they got off on. You were humiliated for their sick pleasure of hurting the one person he was going to care about for the rest of his life. 

He couldn’t get angry, not now, not when you were trembling against him. He’d deal with it all on his own if nothing was done in a timeline of his liking. He’d make it known that anyone who wished to hurt you have it mentally or physically would regret it. 

Jihoon didn’t realize when he started humming but he was, and he quietly hummed the tune to Run To You. It was the song he wrote for you, not that you probably knew that, but in times where he needed reassurance, Jihoon found himself singing or humming it. Now it seemed no different, just for you instead of himself. 

He heard you take in a deep breath and slump against his form. “People fucking suck.” 

Huffing out a breathy laugh, he nodded, continuing to stroke your back. “ They do. I’m sorry I wasn’t there with you.” 

Jihoon watched as you popped your head up, face puffy and red, dried streaks of tears making your cheeks shine. He studied the way you looked at him, eyes tired and strained but studying him right back. You turned your face away and rested your forehead against his shoulder. 

“I stepped outside for one moment just to talk on the phone, it probably wouldn’t have ended much differently if you were there.” Your voice sounded raspy and weak, trying to clear your throat a few times but it didn’t seem to help. “I’d still be covered in whatever that was and be here crying because some dickheads have a sick sense of entitlement to you.” 

The second laugh he gave was louder and he shook his head. “ I’m still sorry. You shouldn’t have to deal with it at all.” 

You went quiet, the calm you were starting to embrace dissipated the hardship that weighed on your heart still. 

“ You should get some sleep, Ruby-ah.” He had an idea of what he needed to do next and didn’t want you disapproving of it. “ Come on.” 

Though you did argue that you were an adult and could put yourself to bed, Jihoon didn’t bother to care about the protests. He had jogged back to his apartment and got a few bottles of water and luckily propped the door open for the short time he was gone. You were already bundled up under the comforter and looking over something on your phone when he walked back in, placing one beside you on the floor as he had stored the rest in your fridge. Seeing that you were alright and your eyes were already drooping, he bid you a good night and firmly shut the door to your apartment. 

Hybe’s team had put out the announcement by the time he made it to his studio. It outlined the basics, not giving much detail besides that you were assaulted and recorded. They had mentions of legal actions and any further harassment would be handled with strict repercussions. It sounded the same as every legal action announcement they made and it left a bitter taste in his mouth. 

Locking the door to his studio, he grabbed his phone stand and set it up, opening up Weverse and went live. 

Jihoon sat back in his desk chair, arms crossed and a rather stern expression gracing his face. Fans joined the live and comments flooded the chat, flying by too quickly for him to read though he didn’t bother reading them. 

He ignored the text messages that came from his management team and Seungcheol, greeting the live and the Carats that joined. His eyes scanned the screen before he started speaking once more. Consequences be damned.

“ I’m not going to be on live long, I have a few things I want to tell everyone.” He sat up straighter, keeping his arms crossed, trying to tame the anger in his expression. “ I’m not going to sugarcoat this either. Today, my soulmate was attacked by supposed fans on the streets while out with two of my members. Whoever these people were publicly attempted to humiliate them  and called them awful names.” 

He cleared his throat and continued. “ I’ve never been more disappointed in a group of people not only calling themselves Carats but blatantly harming someone who is connected to my soul, someone who I care about deeply. This person is my soulmate, someone I didn’t choose but they are the person I am going to cherish and live the rest of my life with because I want to not just because they are my soulmate. The person that knows how I am feeling through the bond and I know how they are feeling right back. Just a few hours ago, I was more scared and angry than I have ever been in my life. 

If those people who hurt them are watching right now, I’m furious. I’m disgusted. What makes you believe that you hold entitlement over me because I am an idol? What makes you believe that hurting them would gain you favor with me? Does it make you feel good about yourself?” 

Jihoon scoffed, pinching the bridge of his nose at the headache that pounded behind his eyes. 

“ You don’t have to like that I found my soulmate but you have to accept that it happened and move on. I am an idol but I am a human first. I will not permit any slander regarding them and will help them pursue all legal action if necessary. 

Y/N is my person, respect them as you respect me, nothing else will be tolerated.” 

“ Are you mad?!” Seungcheol asked, Jihoon barely being able to close the door behind him. “ Do you know how many calls I’ve been fielding?!” 

“ Did you expect me to do nothing?” Jihoon held his hands up in defense, glaring at his leader. “ Just sit back while people think it’s okay to act like this to an innocent person? Hybe can put out all the statements and notices they want, hyung, but no one takes it seriously most of the time! They can call me whatever they want but them? They didn’t sign up for it.” 

He was getting upset, fists now ball at his side and he let out a frustrated groan as tears brimmed his eyes. Seungcheol visibly paused, watching his usually collected and calm friend slowly coming undone. Soonyoung had come out of his room at the sound of yelling, coming up behind the oldest and placed a hand on his shoulder. 

“ Do you know how scared I was because they didn’t answer their phone?!” Jihoon leaned his head back, covering his face with his hands. He yelled out in frustration, wiping the tears that began to run down his cheeks. “ I held them while they cried their heart out and my heart broke because I couldn’t just fix it all… I felt so helpless for them, hyung.” 

He crouched down, taking deep breaths to calm himself but it only made him cry more. 

“ Yah, come on, get off the floor…” Seungcheol’s words were softer now, kneeling down to place a hand on Jihoon’s back. 

“ I knew it was a bad idea, hyung, I know it was, but I couldn’t just let it be. See it from my point of view.” His voice broke, sniffling. “ I need to protect them.” 

It’s been a long time since he cried, probably too long if he was honest, but the reason behind it was irritating. Soonyoung shuffled over and helped Jihoon up, removing his hands and using his sleeve to wipe any remaining tears away. 

“ Hybe is going to handle the rest of this, but you can’t act out like this again. I don’t know what they are going to want you to do but I’ll do my best to figure out the best way.” Jihoon felt Seungcheol wrap an arm around his shoulder, pulling him close. 

He crawled into bed that night mentally exhausted. Jihoon let the warmth of his blankets settle the unrest that rested in his chest, needing the feeling to go away before it bothered you enough to wake up. He fell asleep to the silence of his room and the gentle hum that came through your side of the bond.

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for blocking my ex after he broke up with me?

I already tried to break up with him a week into the relationship because I didn’t feel like I was ready for one, but he insisted he wanted to make it work, so we stayed together for a while longer. I liked being friends with him because I have AvPD and he always made sure I didn’t feel pressured to instantly respond to him ever because that stresses me the fuck out and sends me into prey animal mode, but he always said he was trying to be accommodating and patient.

However, I kinda disappeared off the face of the internet for about a month while I was stuck deep in animation crunch working on a project for school, I didn’t talk to ANYBODY, him included, and at this point I had also decided I would break up with my ex using the old “it’s not you it’s me” card after I finished and submitted that project, because not only did the “not feeling ready for the relationship” feeling never go away, but he would also corner me into REALLY explicit sexual discussions in public discord servers, which granted I should have asserted boundaries about but I was worried I was overreacting. After my initial failed breakup attempt, most of the time we talked was in group chats because it greatly eased the pressure of me having to be involved in a one-on-one conversation and it made me worry slightly less about him taking shit as far as he had in our DMs that scared me into trying to break up in the first place because maybe if there was an audience he wouldn’t go That Far. If he had a problem with talking in group chats more than DMs, he NEVER brought it up to me, he just assured me he wanted me to be comfortable.

But, before I got a chance to break up with him, he suddenly messaged me talking about how we needed to talk about how I was being selfish and ghosting him. I was currently still busy working on animating, so while panicking and feeling extremely guilty about it I tried to think up an apology and response to send him when I was done for the night and even available to talk, but again, before I got the chance to, like ten minutes later, he sent another message breaking up with me and kinda-sorta berating me for my AvPD, saying the only reasons the relationship didn’t work was entirely my fault, not accepting blame for Anything he might’ve done wrong, not even acknowledging that I had already attempted to break up with him before.

At least my plan to break up with him would’ve just been shouldering all the blame onto myself, but this at least took the pressure away and ended it on a sour enough note that I was scared to ever talk to him again, so I blocked him on all socials and like any sad gay tumblr boy would I vented about feeling bad about the whole thing on my blog.

AND THEN, I suddenly receive two consecutive anons that didn’t explicitly reveal an identity but were clearly written by him because they mentioned shit only he (or someone he talked about me behind my back with, I guess) would know, despite the fact I never told him my tumblr AND he repeatedly insistently said he never used tumblr, leading me to the conclusion that he had been stalking me on tumblr the whole time without me knowing, which freaked me the fuck out even more because I already have cyberstalking-related trauma. Anyway the anons AGAIN berated me for everything, painting my ex as an innocent angel who didn’t do anything wrong, I was the one ignoring him (and everyone, I didn’t talk to ANYONE while in crunch), “thriving on instagram” (not true, I also was barely fucking at all active on insta during this time??), “forgot our sixth month anniversary” (I didn’t even know that was a thing people celebrated and if it was no one told me that was something I should be concerned about and I wasn’t keeping track of the date, only the one year anniversary), “too childish and immature for a relationship” (again, I’d already tried to break up with him before because I said I wasn’t ready), among other things that I forget. It was a numbered list of either seven or eleven things, I forget because this happened back in February, but those are the ones that stuck in my mind the most. Since I was already in a state of panic I answered both asks publicly (had no other choice, they were on anon), and all my mutuals frantically came to my defense and tore my ex’s shit to shreds.

That’s the last I ever heard from him, and considering the anon jumpscare fiasco I’m glad I blocked him because I’d prefer not to be with the type of person that does something like that, but considering it wouldn’t have happened at all if I hadn’t blocked him, I can’t help but wonder….AITA?

What are these acronyms?

[noodyl-blasstal]

Cool, Calm, and Collegiate - Chapter 6

It's @blupjeansweek day 6, today's prompt is: Loss

You can read on Ao3 or below. Missed yesterday? Catch up here.

-

Barry tries not to hear Lup and Taako’s conversation, he’s glad the internet is finally up and running at the house, but he doesn’t want to invade her privacy by listening in. The only problem is that Taako’s talking loudly, and Lup’s talking loudly to be heard over him, and Barry’s walls are thin. He studiously tries to ignore it, but can’t help but be a little heartened when he hears that he was her competent knight in shining armour. He flees to the bathroom when Taako asks if they ‘boned down proper style.’ Nothing in him wants to hear Lup’s disgust at the prospect.

His mind’s too busy to dwell on that though, because Barry is suspicious. Deeply suspicious. The twins' teaching reviews haven’t been good, either from students or peer reviewers. He knows for a fact they’ve been dragged (after multiple ‘missed’ appointments) into Lucretia’s office on a few occasions to discuss complaints, student requests to move, and unmet session goals. He doesn’t like that they were the ones looking after Lup’s bag when it disappeared, nor that the only things missing were ‘just’ lesson plans and her room keys - which would be no use to anyone who didn’t know where she lived. Surely they’d take her wallet if it was just random and opportunistic? The theft of her research was, understandably, a touchy topic (he was already formulating ways to punish her old mentor, mostly via very specific questions asked at a conference in front of a large audience) so he didn’t want to bring it up with her yet. There was no need to add anything else to her plate. That said, going with her should help him figure out what had happened. If only he’d actually taken that Cleric class he might even have a deity to pepper with questions about it… nevermind though, he just needs to see whether anyone has visited the apartment. If they have, well, it will only serve to bolster his hypothesis.

Lup’s lounging on the sofa when he heads to the living room. She’s wearing a pair of his jeans with the legs rolled, the hair scarf she was using last night keeping them tight around her hips, and one of his old, faded college shirts tucked artfully into the waistline. She looks gorgeous, how could she not? But there’s a special thrill seeing her here, so comfortable in his house wearing his things, at ease, and happy. He wants that for her always, not an ill fitting wardrobe, but comfort and safety. It’s what he wants for all of his friends of course.

“Hey.” She says, smiling at him. “Sorry about ‘Ko, he was just worried. I hope we weren’t too loud.”

Barry nods sympathetically. “I don’t have siblings, but I can imagine it was scary to hear you got robbed. I would have been worried too, I mean, I was, but you know…” He tails off.

“He was glad to hear my knight in shining armour was around to look after me.” Lup winks at him and Barry can feel himself flushing red. “Thanks for looking after me, Bear.”

“Hey, it’s… uh, anyone would have.”

“They didn’t, though, did they?” Lup says, rolling artfully off the sofa and onto her feet. “You did.”

“Er. Yeah. I guess that’s true.”

“So, shall we go see if they managed to get in?” She smiles, but it’s tight, forced.

Barry nods, tries not to ruin the happy front she’s putting on by fussing. He’d hate for someone to break in here and go through his stuff, it must be awful not to know if that’s what she’s going to walk into. “After you.”

–

“You really should be more careful with your things.” The woman behind the accommodation desk slides her glasses down her nose so she can glare at Lup harder.

Lup’s mouth twitches.

“She got robbed.” Barry says quickly.

“I wasn’t talking to you, Mr…”

“Dr, Halwinter.” Barry says. He hates using titles, but if she’s going to be awful then so can he. Plus, as much as he hates to admit it, sometimes it gets you further.

“Oh… well, er…” She sits up slightly.

“Dr Tacco here was robbed last night and is obviously very distressed about the occurrence, so if there is any way that you could speed up the process of getting her back into her room so she can survey it and see if anything else has been taken…”

“Fine.” The woman slowly levers herself out of her seat, glaring at Barry now instead. Good. He’d rather have that than her making Lup feel any worse.

“I’m sorry.” He says as soon as she’s gone. “I didn’t mean to jump in, I know you’re capable, but I also thought you’d probably be concentrating on trying not to…”

“... fireball her ass.” Lup finishes. “You do listen to me, I’m touched.”

Barry chuckles, then quickly rearranges his face back to stern disappointment when the woman rounds the corner again. “Here.” She slides a master key across the desk, far too fast to be done with anything but the hope they drop it.

Lup snatches it up. “Thank you for being so kind and helpful during such a difficult time.” She says sweetly.

Barry can’t help but snort out a laugh as the woman looks ready to combust.

The world’s slowest lift only seems slower as they inch up. “We should have taken the stairs.” Lup says, pacing, agitated.

“Potatoes are the best vegetable.” Barry says in reply.

Lup stops pacing. “What?”

“They’re nutritious, full of vitamins, they make chips. You don’t need anything else.” Barry shrugs as if it’s obvious.

“I know what you’re doing.” She narrows her eyes at him.

“Okay, well if you agree.” Barry smiles as innocently as he can manage. (Not very, Lup sees straight through him.)

“But there’s so little flavour! What’s going to make all your soups and stews taste nice if you’re just out there housing potatoes?”

His dedication to the humble potato carries them through to Lup’s floor.

“Thank you.” She says as she slides the spare key into the lock. “Even if you do like potatoes more than anyone should.”

“They’re perfect and I stand by it.”

You’re perfect.” He thinks she mutters as she opens the door and steps inside. He can’t be sure though. Maybe he’s mistaken.

He follows her inside and waits patiently while Lup inspects.

“Someone’s been here.” She says, simply.

“I’m sorry Lup.”

“My marking is in a different order and my student reports have moved.”

“Ah.”

“I’m going to have to report this to Lucretia. Whoever it was might have gotten personal information. It was just the worksheets, but sometimes they put stuff on there, you know.” Her voice shakes very slightly.

Barry nods stiffly. “Do you want me to wait here while you go in case they come back?”

“I guess they’ve taken everything they wanted to. At least my laptop’s still here.” She nudges a pile of clothes beside the bed and a laptop slides out from underneath.

“Smart.” Barry admires the ingenuity.

“Er… yeah, sure. Planned… But no, I don’t want to take up any more of your time, Barry. You go, I’ll let you know what’s going on later.” She tries to smile reassuringly and fails.

Barry waivers. He wants to scoop her up and fix everything, but knows that isn’t the answer. “Sure. Message any time, I’ll be on standby with coffee or, you know, rum. Whatever works best.”

“Maybe both.” Lup grins.

“Aye aye, Cap’n!” Barry salutes her and moves towards the door. “Seriously though Lup, if you need me, I’m here.”

“I know, Bear, you’ve shown me that.” Lup says quietly.

Barry lingers a second longer, then lets himself out. She’ll be fine. But who won’t be fine, is the fucking twins. He can’t go straight to Lucretia, Lup will be there soon, so he detours to his office to check the course admin folder for any new requests.

There’s four.

All of them from, surprise surprise, Lydia and Edward.

They want resources for their courses, for ‘new ideas.’ New ideas they had overnight.

Barry asks them in for a meeting.

–

“Could you tell me a bit more about why you’d like the golf balls?”

“To teach the children.” Lydia says and rolls her eyes as if Barry’s being ridiculous.

It’d be charming if Lup did it. There’d be no malice behind it if Lup did it.

“Of course, but which lesson is this for?”

“Tomorrow’s.” Edward says. “That’s why it’s an urgent request.”

“Okay, and tomorrow you’re teaching…?” Barry prompts.

“The lesson we need the golf balls for.” Lydia replies quickly.

“Sure. Okay. Well, fill out the form and pass that on to The Director. You’ll need a health and safety officer, depending on the planned usage.” Barry relaxes very slightly, he clearly doesn’t need to do anything but wait for them to fuck themselves over here… and hope they don’t injure any children in the process… he’ll warn lucretia.

“Do you make Lup do this every time?” Lydia adds.

“Come on now, sister dear, it’s obvious she’s getting some…” Edward raises his eyebrows suggestively. “...very special treatment. We don’t need to press the issue.” Edward laughs and begins to stand.

“Are you making an accusation of preferential treatment? I can give you the complaint form for that as well if you’d like.” Barry refuses to rise to the bait. It wouldn’t do to give them the satisfaction. “In fact, I’ll add it to the stack.” He sets the printer going, takes it calmly and adds it to their pile of forms, smiling as sweetly as he can manage the entire time. “Have a wonderful day now.”

They leave quickly, scooping the forms on the way.

Barry pulls up the academic misconduct form and begins typing.

–

“Madame Director…” Barry knocks on her door.

“Come in Barry, I thought I’d probably be seeing you today.” Lucretia says.

He stands nervously in the threshold. There’s no need for him to feel like he’s going to be in trouble, but the anxiety is in his bones.

“Take a seat.�� Lucretia gestures to the spare chair. “And tell me what the fuck is going on.”

“What do you…?” Barry tails off.

“Cut the shit, Barry. I may be the director, but I see things, I know things. Lup comes in to tell me that someone stole her stuff and rifled through her room but only took lesson plans and student details and now suddenly there’s a barrage of forms from Lydia and Edward? I wasn’t born yesterday.”

Barry sits back, at least it’s not going to be as much of an uphill battle as anticipated. “I think they stole her notes and then her keys and went through her room.”

“That seems most likely.” Lucretia nods.

“So what do we…” Barry asks.

“We do nothing.” Lucretia says. “You, go and check in on Dr Tacco, I believe she’s rewriting at least 10 lessons worth of notes while also worrying that I’m going to fire her for data protection breaches. Obviously I’ve reassured her and printed off the information we had on the system for her so she’s not completely starting from scratch.”

Barry’s relieved to hear that Lucretia has reassured Lup.

Lucretia continues. “That said, we all know what happened, but right now we can’t prove anything. However, despite the fact those two seem to thrive on nothing more than other people’s misery, there’s not much they’ll be able to do in their necromancy class with notes on Lup’s magic science. They’re too lazy to consider that.” She smiles, a thin, firm smile, then asks. “Have you started the academic misconduct form?”

“Yes.”

“Good. It does well to be prepared. We don’t take kindly to theft.”

–

Barry knocks on Lup’s door, not sure if his presence is going to be a help or a hindrance.

“Who is it?”

“Barry, I just came to see if I could help.”

“Come in, it’s open.”

Lup’s on the floor surrounded by paper, she doesn’t look up.

“How’s it going?” Barry asks, slowly lowering himself to the floor as well. His knees crack on the way down, but she’s worth it.

“Uh…” Lup looks up for the first time since he walked in. “Not great, but it’ll be fine.”

“Can I help?”

“Maybe… Uh…” Lup mixes the papers round. Then scatters them again. “I keep trying to find things and it’s…” She gestures at the papers and rubs her eyes with her fists.

“Okay, would it be useful for me to do some organising? You know I love figuring out a system…” Barry smiles at her, hopes it’s reassuring.

“Yeah… yes. That would actually be… thanks Barry.”

“While I do that, I think you should grab something to eat and drink. Go to the Davy Lamp, the walk will do you good - clear your head.”

“I should…” Lup protests weakly.

“Hey, hey Lup.” Barry holds her shoulders. “You don’t need to do all of this today, just tomorrow’s. You already put your orders in for stuff, you already have the rough outline, and all of this came from here.” He taps her lightly on top of her head. “You’ve got this. But you need to look after yourself. I’m here to help, let me.”

“But…” Lup tries again.

“What would you say if it was me?” Barry asks quickly.

“What?” Lup scrunkles her brow in confusion.

“What would you say if I was in your shoes and you were in mine?”

“That’s not…”

“What would you say?”

“I’m not you.”

“But you deserve care and looking after and I bet there’s not a chance that you’d let me do this on my own, is there?”

“No.” Lup sounds defeated, but not upset about it.

“So you look after yourself and I’ll look after these papers, and between us, we’ll get this sorted.”

Lup unfolds her legs and stands easily. Barry vows to move off the floor before she gets back so she doesn’t see the creaking, wobbling, and joint popping that goes into getting him upright. Friends don’t need to know everything about each other.

“Thanks Bear.” She says quietly before she walks towards the door.

“Oh, Lup.”

She turns back.

“Is there any chance one of your sessions involved golf balls?” Barry asks nonchalantly.

“Oh gods… yeah, I’d forgotten about that. One of the ‘pie in the sky, wait, fuck, that’s terrifying, back to the drawing board’ ideas… they can’t all be winners! I thought we could do something using the golf balls to make powder by just spinning them round really really fast with other stuff using a control elements tornado or something, but yeah… even for me it was a bit out there.” She laughs to herself.

“Of course, of course.” Barry makes another mental note to email Lucretia, maybe she should attend that particular class with back up…

By the time Lup returns with two coffees and four pastries (‘necessary fuel’), Barry’s fairly proud of the organisation system he’s bodged together. He also made it off the floor without Lup having to see.

“Woah. It looks better!” Lup grins. “Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me yet, we’ll see how it works in practice, consider me your librarian for the day. I don’t have any meetings so I’m yours.”

“My personal sexy librarian? I’ve peaked!”

Barry laughs so hard he coughs. Yeah, Sexy Sildar the Librarian. That’s him. Ridiculous.

“Do you have the approved draft for tomorrow’s class, please?” Lup asks.

“Here you go.” Barry hands it over.

“You included the notes too?” Lup’s voice wobbles slightly.

“I just paired up the things that seemed to correspond.”

“Barry, I love you.” Lup looks up at him with watery eyes, but she’s smiling wider than he’s seen since they were singing.

He didn’t anticipate being told he was loved by someone (who wasn’t his Mum) because of his excellent organisational skills, but hearing it from Lup, even if she was emotional and tired and frustrated, hearing it from Lup was magic.

“I love you too, Lup.” He says it with all of the sincerity in his breath and bones.

There’s a moment, a brief moment, where he thinks about what would happen if he tried to kiss her no. Just leaned down and took her hand instead of handing her more notes, pulled her towards him, cupped her face in his hand, and leaned in… But now’s not the time. He doesn’t want to be the guy that misreads a situation. Even still, something bubbles between them, there’s a current of something, something electric and fizzing and he could reach out for it he thinks, but Lup doesn’t need that right now. There’ll be time later, time to tell her how he feels, ask if she feels it too. Right now, though, right now? There’s a lesson plan to write.

–

“Are you absolutely sure about the bees, sister dear?”

“It’s in the notes!” Lydia says, brandishing them at Edward. “Do you want to keep being mediocre, or do you want to excel?”

–

Dear ‘Ko,

Okay, so I know you saw it on the news, and I know you rang, and I know we talked about it and then talked about it again. But what a fucking day! Turns out they were too engrossed in cheating and being complete dickheads to actually consider what the fuck they were doing. They just took all my notes and picked at random - apparently they included the ones I discounted because they were unhinged.

Anyway, updates you didn’t have when we last spoke today: the bees are dispersed now, I think we got all the golf balls, and none of the kids are hurt. The clerics said it’ll take a while for Edward’s swelling to go down, and honestly, good. It’s what he deserves. Lucretia zone of truth-d Lydia after it all kicked off. It was brilliant.

Miss you, love you, see you soon,

Lup xxxxxxx

P.S. I think I might be in love with Barry???? Okay bye!

--

Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed. Find the final chapter here.

[roboticonography]

it's getting really upsetting to see certain corners of the fandom demonize peggy. do you have any thoughts on the matter?

Oh, if only this were a new thing, anon!

I’ve been in the MCU fandom since before there was an MCU to speak of. Shitting on women characters and the actors who play them has been going on forever. People posted about how they hated Pepper Potts, saying she wasn’t a good partner to Tony because she didn’t constantly enable his erratic behaviour, or sacrifice her safety to accommodate his trauma. They posted about how Pepper should have died in Iron Man 2, for the good of Tony’s story, and when Iron Man 3 came out, they said the same thing. It was fucking exhausting.

People also posted about how they hated Natasha Romanoff, how they hated Jane Foster, how they hated Wanda Maximoff, how they hated Sharon Carter. 

And yes, there were Peggy-haters then too. They called her a “karate-kicking fucktoy” and a “vengeful feminazi” and those are the most polite terms I can recall. They complained that she was too powerful, they complained that she was too feminine, they complained that she was pointless without Steve, they complained that she talked about Steve too much. And so on, and so forth, ad infinitum.

Now, to be clear, I am not talking about some of the very valid criticisms people had about the Agent Carter series - its writing, its casting, etc. I am also not talking about the very valid criticisms people have about the larger MCU related to representation, or lack thereof, across multiple fronts. I believe it’s possible to enjoy a piece of media and still have issues with some (or even many) aspects of it, and I enjoy reading posts that grapple with those issues. I’m not even talking about venting about a popular character you can’t stand: that has its place, though I’d argue that the place is probably not in the tag for that character. (I guarantee you, your “unpopular opinion” is never as unpopular as you think.)

I’m talking about misogyny. The same tired, rehashed, played out bullshit woman-hating that has existed in fandoms, so many fandoms, for at least the 25+ years that I’ve been active in them.

And that’s still what’s happening.

Many of the posts I’ve seen that fall under this category are expressing anger that one character or relationship or storyline or interpretation of canon is getting airtime, while another one, one they like better, is not. I’m not going to argue with anyone about that. You like what you like, and you're entitled to be annoyed if you don't get it. But if your argument is sound, you should be able to make your point effectively without calling the character the grossest euphemism for vagina you can find, or speculating on the exact sex acts an actor had to do to keep her character popular.

Other posts I’ve seen are just absolute buckwild conspiracy theory nonsense. The only thing I have to say about that is, yikes. Get well soon.

Tumblr, like other social media platforms, recognizes that they get more engagement if people are forced to play in the same sandbox, which is why it probably feels like you're seeing a disproportionate number of hate posts. And anyone who writes for money on the internet knows that hate clicks are often the juiciest clicks, and so they will write articles and listicles and polls with titles and subjects designed to get your blood up. It’s become increasingly difficult to avoid seeing other people’s ridiculous opinions. But that’s still the strategy that I find best helps me enjoy fandom. 

So if “certain corners” of the fandom are not to your taste, anon, then my advice is this: block, blacklist, and just don’t engage. Don’t feed the trolls. Instead, put that energy into positive interactions. Make art. Comment on things you liked. Find your friends, and have conversations that inspire you and amuse you, instead of ones that make you angry and tired.

Thanks for the ask! Take care.

[fuckyeahfightlock]

It's 2004. Someone has sent me a link, or I have found a link, or whatever. Link.

The link is to a video. YouTube has not been invented yet so I waste time downloading this video via the link. This can take up to five minutes as we are past dial-up but still do not tout the number of G's our internet. . .makes? accommodates? (I don't understand G's, to this day). So it's probably broadband that does this.

The video is a panning shot of a black and white. . either a room or an outdoor scene, moody, not necessarily spooky. There is very small, cursive script appearing on the video, a line at a time, while gentle music plays in the background. The text tells me that this is [song title] by the horror/goth/metal/whatever-they-were band Cradle of Filth, then noted something or other about the band, or the song, like a very slow and boring wikipedia article.

I lean in to read the text better. The music is so-so; I've heard of Cradle of Filth, for some reason I know they recently had a baby girl they named Agony, which I admire for its commitment to the premise, but of which I ultimately disapprove--she's a baby, not a fashion accessory.

Suddenly there's a loud screech and a hideous, terrifying face, and I jump and scream. This is a thing that happens online; seemingly innocuous videos end in jump scares, called "screamers". Later, when YouTube is invented, a lot of videos will be filmed of people being jump-scared by screamers.

Fast forward to this morning, when I watched my scary movie of the day and this is exactly the kind of scare this movie has exactly one of (ninety long minutes ends with one scare, then five minutes later it ends on one gross-out. Period.). I do not jump or scream. I roll my eyes and sigh and say loudly, "Oh, come ON, are you fucking KIDDING me right now?" A sudden close-up of a scary black and white face with a shrieky sound. I mean really. What century are we in?

Butterfly Kisses is a 2018 faux-documentary about (wait for it!) some found footage and the man who has cut it together into a film, and how no one believes the footage is real.

I was angry three minutes into this movie, when the lore of "Peeping Tom" was explained. A railroad tunnel in Maryland. If you stare down it for AN HOUR without blinking (impossible, but OK, it does sound like a plausible urban legend), a shadowy figure called Peeping Tom appears at the opposite end of the tunnel. Each time you blink, he comes closer, until finally he is so close to you he can flutter his long eyelashes and they brush yr face and you have to blink and he kills you.

DOES THIS LORE SOUND FAMILIAR??? IS IT THE SAME LORE AS THE THIRD MOST FAMOUS DOCTOR WHO VILLAIN???

I was so annoyed.

My irritation grew incandescent when halfway through the movie the Guy Who Found the Footage (Gavin) takes off his dumb tweed jacket and just happens to have a tattoo on his forearm of a sonic screwdriver. I threw a sofa pillow. These fucking people who made this fucking movie what the fuck.

At one point in the faux doc, which is set in Maryland, actual Eduardo Sanchez!!!, one of the co-directors of actual The Blair Witch Project (also set in Maryland), does a talking head segment about The Guy Gavin, asserting that his found footage must be fake because it's all too convenient. There's another guy who is not actual John Waters but you just know the filmmakers wrote the part hoping John Waters would agree to do their little indie Maryland movie.

The dialogue was improvised, so there was a lot of awkwardly dumped-in exposition and too much swearing. There were only four women with speaking parts, only one with more than ten lines. There were a shit ton of 30something white guys, though!

Director Erik Kristopher Myers died young (40) after being struck by a van, leaving behind a wife and children, so I won't speak ill of him. But this movie just rubbed me every wrong way. It's not good.

Also, how I ended up watching four found footage films in under a week is really beyond me; I don't even LIKE found footage movies. I'd say on the whole I actively DISLIKE them. No more found footage this month. Except that I might rewatch Lake Mungo if I run out of movies near the end of the month (I have a list of To Rewatch films in case I can't find new-to-me movies I want to watch and/or I've watched so many stinkers I just don't want to risk it anymore). But no others!

Anyway, miss me with this one.