#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.

[mentime]

✿ cum undone ✿

title: cum undone

summary: when Billy Butcher isn't coming up with new reasons to hate Supes, he works as a phone sex operator.

w.c: 2.5k

warnings: phone sex, cursing, fingering, slight hint at pain play but only very very slightly, solo masturbation, nothing graphic at all tbh

note: hi first work!! hope everyone is doing well, sorry if there's any typos, kind of rushed it but hope you enjoy thanks for reading <3

What in the actual fuck were you doing?

Your thoughts begin spiralling, and you grasped at your bedsheets to try and ground yourself, but despite your efforts, your breaths were becoming faster and shallower.

And you still couldn't bring yourself to hang up the phone.

See, you had found yourself in a bit of a predicament. It had been building up all week, you've been feeling hot and bothered over small things, it was getting to be too much for you. Which is what lead you to now, watching helplessly with bated breath as your phone dialed the number for a phone sex hotline that you had discovered on the internet in your haste to solve your... problem.

The phone rings once...

This was a bad idea.

Then twice...

This was a really, really bad idea.

Then three times...

This is getting pathetic now, you should really just hang up-

"Hello, love, Butcher here, ready to satisfy every desire you could possibly come up with in that pretty little head of yours", a gruff, gravelly British accent answers on the other side of the phone, reciting what seems to be the company's slogan. You could feel blood flowing to your cheeks and an abundance of heat pooling in your abdomen at the sound of the man's voice alone. "Are ya in need of some…service?"

You scramble to get closer to the phone, flushed and out of breath already. You try to think of something clever to say, something that doesn't give you away as just a total inexperienced loser, but you don't come up with anything special.

"Hi", you manage to will your voice to speak at a somewhat normal volume and pace. "Um, yes please?"

The man, Butcher, on the other side of the phone chuckles at the questioning lilt of your tone, and you feel yourself flush even deeper, although you didn't know that could be possible. When he speaks next, you can hear the smug grin in his voice.

"And what sort of service do ya have in mind, love?", the man continues, and his voice lowers, even deeper, as he speaks again. "I’d be more than happy to accommodate ya."

Your mind comes to a complete halt, both at how fucking attractive this man sounds, and because you actually have no clue what you want from this phone call. Of course, you know the end goal, you're not that oblivious, but you hadn't really thought of how exactly to get... there.

"Oh, um, I don't know", you whisper, shyly. "I've never really done this before..."

"That’s completely fine, darlin’, s'what I'm here for, ain't it?", and even though his words are kind, you could swear you can hear a smirk in his voice. Maybe you're just paranoid. "We’ll take it nice and slow. Why dontcha tell me what you’ve been thinkin’ about?"

You hear some shuffling around and a grunt on the other side of the line, presumably the man getting more comfortable, and even that noise evokes something within you.

"Well,", you start nervously, your tongue darting out to wet your lips. "Um, it's just that lately, I've been getting kind of... riled up over small things, and I haven't been able to really, uh, fix this problem."

You internally cringe at that absolute word vomit that you had just spewed, and you grip at your sheets and screw your eyes shut, nearly hanging up until you hear the man chuckling softly.

"So, what you're tellin' me is that ya need some help masturbating", and you're definitely sure you can hear the smirk in his voice now. "Do I have it right, lovie?"

You nod, unable to command yourself to speak, until you cop onto the fact that Butcher can't actually see you. You manage a quiet little "yes".

"Well, of course I'll help ya, love", Butcher says softly, and you nearly melt as your fingers loosen their death grip on the sheets. "It's me bloody job and I'm fuckin' amazing at it, so we'll have your little problem sorted and you'll be right as rain."

If you weren't so nervous, you'd be full on beaming, and you can feel yourself nodding along to the man's words.

"And 'cause I'm so damn good at what I do, I can already tell you're not much of a talker", and thank god for sexy, intelligent men. "That ain't no big deal to me, love. I'll just tell ya what to do, and your only job is to enjoy yourself and let me know if ya want to stop at anytime."

You nod, and you chide yourself for being so silly, but it doesn't matter because it's almost as if Butcher could sense it through the phone, and he proceeds anyway.

"First, I want ya to get comfy. Do whatever you gotta do, darlin', I'm in no rush."

You hurry to lie back, limbs splayed out over your plush duvet. You try your best to calm yourself down with a few deep breaths, but you struggle to keep your excitement at bay.

"Now, just listen to the sound of me voice", his gravely voice softens, and you focus all of your attention solely on him. "Let me guide ya. I want ya to start by slowly and gently brushing your skin with your nails."

You do just that. You rake your nails softly on the exposed parts of your body, enjoying how it stimulates you and makes your skin tingle.

His voice gets low and soft as he continues.

"Follow the lines of your body, love. Across your stomach, down your sides, wherever it feels nice. If it helps ya, picture me touchin’ you, my hands moving across your skin."

Oh god, why did he have to go and do that. You can just imagine it now, with your eyes shut, breaths deepening as your hands roam your body, an impeccably handsome man, big hands exploring every inch of your skin, leaving a burning trail in their path.

"Good girl, you’re doing very well", his voice still low and seductive. "I want ya to keep moving your hands. Slide them up, higher, towards your tits."

Your face burns at his language, but you comply regardless, shivering at the sensitive touch.

"Imagine it’s my hands that are on your skin, touchin' ya", his voice is as soft as velvet, and even though you can hear the teasing smirk in his tone, you can't bring yourself to care as you get lost in your fantasies of a faceless British man caressing you with all of the care in the world. "My hands moving just as yours are. Do ya like it, lovie?"

You manage to utter a breathless "yes" as you continue your ministrations. You can hear the grin as he continues speaking.

"I’m glad, love. Now, I want ya to close your hands as you reach your chest, let your nails dig into your skin. Not hard enough to hurt, just…enough to feel good, yeah?

You startle a bit at that, but you do as you're told anyway, and find that it actually feels kind of nice, in contrast with the barely there touches from earlier.

"You’re doin' really good. Relax into the feeling f'me, love", Butcher's voice dips into a whisper, and you can hear some movement on the other side of the line as he readjusts himself, but you pay no mind. "Slide your hands higher, higher, until ya reach your neck. Wrap your hand around your throat, darlin'. Not too hard now, don't want ya dyin' on my watch."

"Feels good", you surprise yourself when you huff out a response that wasn't even required, and you curl in on yourself in embarrassment.

He gives another soft laugh as your words. He’s enjoying this.

"Really good, lovie, well done", he cooes slightly, and you can still hear his smile. "'Want ya to imagine I’m in the room with ya, my fingers exploring whatever part of your body I want to."

And oh god, how you want that. One hand leaves your throat to wander down further south, and your body quivers in anticipation.

"Move your hands from your neck now, love", he goes on, almost as if he had sensed that you wanted to speed things up a little bit. "Move them down. Slowly. Across your chest. Down your sides again. Down to your hips. Keep 'em there."

Your fingers venture down further, slowly, and as the heat spreads across your whole body, you can feel a certain wetness building up in your panties too.

"Imagine me lips against your skin. Against your neck, your shoulders, your tits", Butcher continues, his voice still below a whisper, soft and sensual, and it's amazing how just a man's voice could make your body react so much. "Me hands running across your body, down your hips. Across the insides of your thighs, would ya like that lovie?"

You nod and bite down on your lip to refrain from letting out any embarrassing noises.

"Slide your hands lower, darlin’", he pauses for a second, and you can hear his heavy breathing and some rustling on his end. "Run 'em over your thighs, your legs."

"Does it make ya feel good, love?", his words slur together almost, and it turns into a smooth purr, his smirk still audible. "Imagining me there, me hands on your skin, me lips against your neck. Pressin' against ya, and makin' ya shudder. Makin' ya squirm beneath me. You'd probably make the cutest noises too if ya weren't so damn shy."

He lets his words hang in the air for a second, and your brain is still trying to comprehend everything that he'd just said to you. His voice goes even lower when he speaks again, continuing his gentle guidance.

"Slide your hand between your legs, darlin'. Use your other hand to touch the inside of your thigh. Move it up, slowly. Imagine it’s my touch that you’re feelin'. My hands that are makin' ya feel so good."

You reach your fingers slowly down towards the heat, and press against the wet patches on your panties. They're nearly soaked, and otherwise you'd be embarrassed by how undone you've become by just the voice of a stranger, but you can't find it in yourself as you plunge your hand into your panties.

Your fingers circle your lips, and you let your other hand trail into the wetness, rubbing gently as you focus your attention on Butcher's voice.

"Imagine my lips against your skin, tracing a line down your stomach. Where do ya want 'em t'go, lovie?", he makes a soft sound, a mixture between a moan and a grunt, as he continues to speak. He lets out a low laugh. "I'm only fuckin' with ya, I know exactly where you want them to go."

You hear his smirk widening, and you flush even more as you trace little circles around your clit as he speaks.

"Mmm, yes, love, right between your legs, I know. I'd love for ya t'know the things I’m thinking about you, the things I’d be doing to ya if I was in the room with ya right now."

You can't contain the whimper of want you emit when he says that last bit, and you're so stimulated, what with your fingers teasing your clit and his seductive voice on the phone that you can't even muster up any shame.

He chuckles, his voice almost as thick as honey as he speaks.

"Oh, ya like the sound of that, love? Imagining me in your room, on top of ya. Do you want to know what I’m thinkin' about ya right now, darlin’?"

"Mmhm", you just about manage to make out, because even though you were dead set on not uttering a single word unless you absolutely had to to prevent yourself from making a fool of yourself, you just have to know what he's on about.

Your hand works faster and faster, and you slip a finger into the warmth, pumping faster and faster as he speaks.

"I’m imaginin' ya lying on your back, darlin’. I’m on top of ya, me arms pressed against the bed, my body against yours", He lowers his voice to almost a whisper, the smirk on his face audible in his words.

"Imagine I’m on my knees, love, right in front of you, between your legs, me face in front of your hips", your breath stutters as your hand continues to work, maintaining speed and you can feel yourself nearing climax. "Ya want to know some of the things I’m thinkin', darlin’?"

You whimper again, and Butcher takes that as an affirmative.

He laughs again, moving the receiver away as he lets out a chuckle before returning to the low, soft voice. He’s getting much more into this now, his own excitement starting to show in his words. The words are so low that they almost melt together like the sofy purr of an engine.

"I want to taste ya, love. The image of your body, of being so close to ya, it’s driving me bloody mental", he grins, you can hear it in the way he speaks. "I’m thinkin' about how good you’d taste, lovie, how bad I want to taste ya all over. How badly I want to run my tongue over your body, how much I want to make ya moan."

The heat becomes unbearable as you continue to rub your clit in erratic circular motions, and finger yourself.

Nearly there.

"Christ, the things I'd do to ya if I was there", a low laugh escapes his mouth, "you know what my hand is doing right now, love?"

So close, so close.

"And y'know what? If I had ya, pliant and obedient underneath me, I'd lick a fat stripe up your cunt and eat you out like a starving man"

Oh my fucking god.

You let out a moan as you climax, and you hear Butcher grunt in unison. Your vision is a mixture of hot white and blurriness. Your chest heaves as you pant, trying to catch your breath, and your fingers cramp up as you pull them away from the warm, sticky mess that once were your panties.

You hear Butcher moving on the other side of the phone.

"Well, thanks for the wank, lovie, pleasure doin' business with you", Butcher's voice is low, a bit more hoarse now than when the phone call had started, but the smug undertone is still there. "Don't worry 'bout payin', it's on the house since it was so enjoyable for me too."

Your cheeks heat up again as you hear his deep voice chuckle. You can't help but feel a twinge of bittersweetness now that the moment is over, but it's overcome by relief and a warm tiredness that makes your eyelids heavy.

"I hope your little problem is fixed now, darlin'. Call back again sometime, and ask for Butcher."

He hangs up, and you're stuck in your bed wondering how many times is deemed acceptable to ring a phone sex hotline in a week.

[shadowcanine]

a deep dive into love has won.

before we begin, i’d like to make a disclaimer:

what i did is extremely dangerous, and i do not recommend anybody else taking the steps i did. cults are extremely damaging, and inherently designed to isolate and, in turn, control you. under no circumstances should you seek a cult out for the purpose of ‘’getting in” like i did. i did this purely for informational and research purposes; i know how to keep myself safe and differentiate reality from delusion. do not do what i did. if you made it past the disclaimer, hi :) as always, information will be under the cut. this post is purely for research and educational purposes, and is also extremely long- you’ve been warned.

It's November 30th, 1975. Somewhere in a small town in Kansas, Amy Carlson is born. Her parents divorced when she was young, and she now spends her time inbetween their homes. This didn't stop her success though, as throughout her childhood and teenage years, she was a good student- primarily earning A's and B's. She even worked at McDonald's, where she quickly climbed the corporate ladder, eventually managing her own location. Her employees would describe her as a ''great leader'' and very kind. She would do her best to accommodate them and their needs during her time with McDonald's.

Amy would go on to have 3 children, each with a different father. Her ability to achieve and maintain healthy relationships was lackluster at best, with majority of her relationships ending with claims of abuse or romantic neglect in one way or another.

Somewhere during the mid 2000's, Amy does shrooms. In her words, this was to ''see what all the hype was about.'' She then began to question if this is what the world really was like- and if so, who stole this reality from her?

It's also during this time that Amy develops an interest in ''New Age'' philosophy (New Age refers to a range of spiritual or religious practices of beliefs- it gained it's popularity in America during the 1970's. It's hard to explain what exactly it is, as the entire belief system is quite jumbled and confusing. Imagine closing your eyes while somebody blends a bunch of food, and you're supposed to name everything in the blender. It's essentially impossible.)

During this time, Amy becomes very active on the website ''lightworkers.org'' it was on this website she met ''Amerith WhiteEagle'' who convinces Amy that she is divine; shortly after this, Amy begins to claim to experience paranormal experiences- most notably was a voice telling her she would ‘’one day be President of the United States’’.

It’s late 2007 now, and Amy wastes no time in leaving her third husband, children, and job. She cuts off majority of her family, and proceeds to meet ''WhiteEagle'' in Colorado. It only gets worse from here.

After meeting WhiteEagle in person, him and Amy form a group (or. more accurately, a duo) together. They call themselves the ''Galactic Federation of Light'' (or GFOL). Their first video is posted to YouTube in 2009. They lead this group under the names of ''Mother God'' and ''Father God.'' Most of these videos discussed outlandish topics, starships being an example- and one of the core ‘’beliefs’’ of Love Has Won / GFOL.

The group would then gain their first follower- Miguel Lamboy. It's 2014, and for whatever reason, WhteEagle and Carlson split. Apparently, WhiteEagle had left for another ‘’lightworker’’ he recruited from New York- and Carlson went on to join with Miguel. Miguel was now in charge of the financial aspect of the group, as well as budgeting.

2014 is also when the group really begins to gain momentum, credits of the internet. The group would regularly hop between Colorado, Oregon, California, and Florida between 2014-2018. They eventually settled in Moffat, CO. A quaint small town, where the group claimed to feel ‘’more connected’’ to the Earth. WhiteEagle and Miguel were not the only ‘’Father Gods’’, though- with a long line behind them. Amy was described by ex-members as ‘’never going more than two minutes without a ‘’Father God.’’ ‘’ Jason Castillo would become the final ‘’Father God’’ in 2018.

The group now had between twelve and twenty full-time members who lived with Carlson in Crestone, CO. Crestone has been described by locals as a place where the ‘’veil is thin’’ (ie, you’re closer to the universe there). The team would livestream daily, usually on Youtube, to accomplish their ‘’goals’’. The goals for these livestreams were as follows:

• Recruit more members.

• Encourage and solicit donations.

• Promote ‘’New Age’’ products, as well as vitamin supplements.

The team of Love Has Won regularly advertised something called ‘’etheric surgery’’. It cost $88 per person, and could allegedly ‘’remove sickness’’ and ‘’negative energy’’ from the body. They also sold *colloidal silver, which they claimed could cure COVID-19. (Colloidal silver is known for turning a users skin a ‘’blue-gray’’ tint if consumed in excess. This is called Argyria, and while on it’s own isn’t a major health problem, it doesn’t go away- even if you stop consumption of the silver.*)

Love Has Won would also use these livestreams to push their beliefs. The main belief was that Amy Carlson was the 534th incarnation of Mother God. They believed she was a deity, destined to lead exactly 144,000 believers out of the ‘’superficial reality’’ present in the ‘’3D-world’’ and into a ‘’fifth-dimensional plane of higher existence’’. Amy, believing she was an incarnation, was also apparently quite a few people in her past lives. These are some of the people:

• Mother Earth

• Gaia

• Cleopatra

• Jesus Christ of Nazareth

• Joan of Arc

• Harriet Tubman

• Helena Blavatsky

• Marilyn Monroe

• The mother of Elvis Presley

Amy claimed to have full memory of these past lives, including Jesus’ crucifixion. Allegedly, she could also ‘’produce miracles, kind of like Jesus.’’

In order to accomplish her goals of leading believers out of 3D world, Amy claimed she needed to communicate with ‘’The Galactics.’’

The Galactics were an ‘’etheric team’’ of spiritual ambassadors, largely made up of celebrities who have died. This team included Robin Williams (the main ambassador), Patrick Swayze, John Lennon (the command of the main starship), Whitney Houston, Prince, Steve Irwin, Carrie Fisher, Rodney Dangerfield, Tupac Shakur, Chris Farley, David Bowie, Gene Wilder, and Michael Jackson. Among this etheric team were also the still alive Donald Trump and Carol Burnett. Amy claimed the Count of St. Germain was also helping her.

One of the stories Amy frequently told was one of her ‘’past.’’ In this past, she lived in Lemuria (a continent proposed in 1864, which was theorized to have sank beneath the Indian Ocean) and Trump was her father. An obscure technology existed, but the details of what this item did are unclear. The theft of this item, however, caused an ‘’explosion that sank Atlantis.’’ While Amy (Mother God) was able to save the technology, she was not fully ready to ascend to the ‘’fifth-dimension’’ because humanity was not ready. As a result, she ‘’continued to return to Earth in human form.’’

The original LoveHasWon website was removed, but while it was still up, it claimed that Amy was a ‘’spritiual surgeon.’’ She would work ‘’multidimensionally’’ to operate on people’s bodies and cure whatever they may be suffering with. Allegedly, Amy the (former) McDonald’s Manager, had cured cancer, Lyme disease, addiction, suicidal thoughts, removed brain tumors, and ‘’cured’’ Autism. What a portfolio.

Now, before we move on, it’s time for the good part of this post. In an effort to make the most accurate and in-depth Love Has Won post, I came to the conclusion that the best way to get into the minds of these individuals was to let them into mine. As such, I spent a few days posing as an interested ‘’recruit.’’ This included partaking in multiple video calls with the team, participating in livestreams, and researching their ‘’sources.’’ If you’d like a simple answer; yes, I did ‘’join’’ a cult to make a Tumblr post about it.

It’s also worth mentioning that even though my involvement with this group was fairly surface level, it has kind of fucked with my head a bit. I feel extremely negatively about these individuals, and the interview was a shit show marketing tactic clearly geared to seek out mentally ill individuals in order to manipulate them into joining. I’ve attempted to make this section as informative as possible, but the actual phone call was incredibly confusing. I promise I’m doing the best I can in this regard- there’s only so many ways you can turn pure propaganda into an informative piece. The chamber is spun dry. Regardless, here’s a detailed description of the phone call- as well as some thoughts I simply couldn’t hold back regarding it.

The interview itself was pretty confusing, starting off with who we’ll call ‘’Moon’’ calling me out of nowhere at 11:38PM. It was a video call, and while my webcam was on, the room was dimly lit. Moon insisted I turn on a light, and upon me doing so, said I was ‘’beautifully made by Mother and Father of all creation.’’ It was extremely uncomfortable. The call then progressed with Moon asking me how I ‘’discovered’’ ‘Mother’’ and ‘’Father’’ God. I told her I discovered them through the HBO doc, and claimed their ‘’message really resonated with me.’’ This would open the door to the most uncomfortable hour and a half phone call I have ever had.

‘’Moon’’ went on to explain how the group’s main focus is ‘’coming home’’ which refers to being in the physical presence of ‘’Mother and Father.’’ I said ‘’wow, that’s really awesome!’’ and I was then informed that ‘’Father’’ had actually created the word ‘’awesome’’ by combining ‘’awe’’ and ‘’sum’’ to describe ‘’Mother.’’

(After the interview, it was pointed out to me that this may be referring to being in a ‘’state of awe’’, and considering this is a cult we’re talking about, I have reason to believe that suggestion is correct.)

‘’Coming home’’ does not just refer to being in their physical presence, however, as it also apparently about exploring our talents and skills, and where ‘’energy is the greatest.’’ I won’t put you all through the mental gymnastics I had to do to figure out what this all meant, so I’ll explain it like this:

Imagine you volunteer at a soup kitchen. It’s a good deed, and it helps your community, but does it help anybody outside of your town? No. You volunteering at a soup kitchen will not create a ‘’ripple affect’’ of energy. ‘’Coming home’’, however, will. Because being in the physical presence of ‘’Mother’’ and ‘’Father’’ is where positive energy is abundant, it will allegedly flow out of ‘’home’’ and to the rest of the world. This is essentially Love Has Won weaponizing a savior complex, with the implications being the world cannot be happy, or positive, or good, if you yourself do not ‘’come home.’’

I was also informed that during the filming of HBO’s documentary ‘’Love Has Won: The Cult of Mother God’’, Love Has Won attempted to get the crew to stay with them for three months. They wanted them to ‘’see the miracles in action’’ and believing anybody who came into contact with Mother and Father would immediately know they were ‘’god,’’ they deemed it important to have HBO stay. HBO did not- instead staying for 2 ½ days to wrap up interviews and research before leaving.

My contact, Moon, also told me that she had been interviewed by HBO, though her clips were cut from the documentary. The only image of her in the documentary is a photo where she’s in the background, and only the back of her is visible. Moon claims to not know why she was cut from the documentary, theorizing it was done for one of the following reasons (taken directly from the interview and unedited):

‘’News are all about selling fear. Media is all about selling fear and anger. Mother and Father are about evolving from our past lives into this life- this life is our last lifetime to recognize mom and dad. Through the souls journey of a culmination of experiences and conditioning, it leads them to mom and dad. If a person is unable to accept constructive feedback from Mother and Father, they leave.’’

So, not really an answer to me asking why she was cut from the documentary, but beggars can’t be choosers I suppose. My personal belief is that she was too into it to be in the documentary. Everybody else interviewed, with the exception of Father God, had left the cult. Moon had not, and I’m not sure if pure cult propaganda is what HBO wants on their network.

Moon also shared with me that she had lived with Mother and Father for quite some time, before and after the ‘’ascension.’’ She had to return to Asia to ‘’finish up some stuff’’ but did not elaborate on what ‘’stuff’’ was. She plans to return ‘’home’’ when she is able to do so.

I did my best to press Moon into giving me a concise answer about what exactly Love Has Won believes in, but she herself seemed confused on what exactly that entailed. She didn’t elaborate on many points, but I’ll do my best to explain what I was told.

Love Has Won believes that ‘’Mother’’ and ‘’Father’’ are here to provide us with joy, abundance, and health. They can heal anything, and have created everything. They are strictly against-hate, and believe humanity cannot progress via literature alone. We must go out and experience things, as experiences are what raise the soul ‘’higher and higher.’’

I also did ask about the 2020 Hawaii incident*, and opinions on it seem to be jumbled. Some members were angry, but some just believed it was a waste of time.

*(In August of 2020, LHW briefly relocated to Hawaii, specifically the island of Kauai. They believed they needed to be in Hawaii in order for Mother God to ascend. They were met with extreme backlash from locals after Amy claimed to be the Hawaiian volcano goddess Pele. Protests outside of the home was LHW was in lasted for days, and included protesters lighting driftwood fires and chanting Hawaiian prayers around the home. Video footage provided showed eggs and rocks being thrown at the rented home, as well as the windows of the home and SUV parked in the driveway being broken in. Kauai’s mayor, Derek Kawakami, negotiated with Love Has Won to depart the island. They flew to Kahului Airport on Maiu, and in September of 2020, the group returned to Colorado.)

As of 2024, Love Has Won believes the protests in Hawaii were ‘’pointless’’ stating during the interview:

‘’If you don’t believe Mother God is who she says, why don’t you just ignore us? Why attack us?’’

I was also informed that their ‘’teachings’’ can be found through their songs on YouTube, but upon investigation, most of these songs are just covers. Very few of them are original work, and, as such, very few contain any sort of meaningful information regarding the groups teachings.

I was then asked by Moon why people hated Jesus, which seemed redundant to the conversation. I’d include context as to why I was asked this, but there isn’t any. She just randomly said it. The conversation is as follows:

Moon: ‘’Why did people hate Jesus?’’

‘’Huh?’’

Moon: ‘’Do you know why?’’

‘’They hated Jesus because he spoke the truth?’’

Moon: ‘’Exactly. They couldn’t- they couldn’t fathom that Jesus could heal on the spot, and that’s what Mom and Dad are- they can heal a person on the spot.’��

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

I had previously made an excuse that my memory was bad, and asked if I could take notes. During the end of the interview, I apologized again for the typing sounds and how many notes I had to take, saying, ‘’I’m a bit stupid, sorry.’’ Moon replied with an incredibly off-putting statement, but had to quickly after to start her day.

‘’You are beautifully, beautifully crafted by Mom and Dad.’’

Now, as you’re reading this, it may be hard to understand how exactly Love Has Won is a cult. Sure, they’re clearly unstable, but is it really a cult? To answer that, you have to know what a cult is. This section is mildly lengthy, and while I’m sure many of you have the knowledge to understand this is a cult, some may still be confused or feeling unsure.

Cult Education Institute has a list of warning signs, which we’ll be going over and explaining how each one applies to Love Has won, and therefore proving it is, indeed, a cult.

Some warning signs of a potentially unsafe group/leader are the following:

1. Absolute authoritarianism without meaningful accountability.

Love Has Won, specifically Amy Carlson, is known for their lack out of accountability. If any members were to speak up about these things, it created an unsafe environment for the rest of them. There’s one instance of ‘’Father God’’ locking members outside in the Colorado winter, and taking away their heater. This is because they ‘’disrespected Mother.’’

2. No tolerance for questions or critical inquiry.

Members of Love Has Won are expected to fully accept Mother and Father god as the creators of everything- those who start to question whether or not this is real are kicked from the group, and told to ‘’come back when they know better.’’

3. No meaningful financial disclosure regarding budget, expenses such as an independently audited financial statement.

Miguel Lamboy was the sole member in charge of finances. Other members never saw this money, but were expected to constantly contribute to the costs and living expenses of the group. Members were not allowed to use their own money to buy food for two main reasons.

a) Food would clog your body, preventing you from absorbing the teachings of Mother and receiving her energy.

b) Members buying food instead of donating meant less money for the group overall, which was a concept Father and Mother couldn’t stomach.

4. Unreasonable fear about the outside world, such as impending catastrophe, evil concspiracies and persecution.

Love Has Won views those who hold disdain to Mother and Father, or those who refuse to accept them as the Creators of Everything, as ‘’whores.’’ They believe these people were trying to prevent Amy’s ascension, which, in their eyes, is considered persecution.

5. There is no legitimate reason to leave, former followers are always wrong in leaving, negative or even evil.

In the interview, Moon stated that the only people to leave the team were those incapable of accepting constructive criticism. They were ‘’blinded by hate’’ and unable to ‘’get over themselves’’ and accept Mother and Father’s criticism.

6. Former members often relate the same stories of abuse and reflect a similiar pattern of grievances.

Nearly every ex-member of Love Has Won tells the same story;

‘’Mother God’’ was constantly drunk or high, or some combination of the two. Nights would be spent listening to domestic disputes between Mother and Father, and watching Mother hit Father on numerous occasions. All members share a pattern of claiming financial manipulation and abuse at the hands of Love Has Won. They were not allowed to use their money on themselves, and were pressured into giving what money they did have back into the cult.

7. There are records, books, news articles, or television programs that document the abuses of the group/leader.

Love Has Won - Jason (Father God)’s Abusive Side

Love Has Won: The Cult of Mother God

I was in LHW in 2018 - parts one and two.

Love Has Won Members Defending Cat Abuse

8. Followers feel they can never be ‘’good enough’’.

Members share similar claims of doing anything they could to have the chance to be close to ‘’Mother God.’’ One ex-member, Hope, would clean the house from top to bottom- everyday. The only acknowledgement she got from this was an offhanded comment Amy made to a friend. They constantly try to do everything they can to be in her good graces; waiting on her every beckon call, allowing her to do nothing while they handle everything, etc.

9. The group/leader is always right.

Questioning ‘’Mother God’’ would result in being screamed at, or, as it happened to a group of members, locked outside in the Colorado winter all night with no heater. If you were to so much as imply that Amy may not be god, you would be removed from the team and sent on your way- sans any money you may have given, or any resources to help you get home.

10. The group/leader is the exclusive means of knowing ‘’truth’’ or receiving validation, no other process of discovery is really acceptable of credible.

Team members were encouraged to talk to Amy about any sort of problems they were having, or even any ones that may have occurred during childhood. For all intensive purposes, this would be considered traumabonding- as Amy would help the team through these issues, making them think she was the only one that could help, and then pick them apart if they weren’t ‘’good enough.’’ Love Has Won is anti-therapy, anti-church, and anti-physical-family. Team members were encouraged to rely solely on Mother and Father. If their physical family disagreed with the practices of Love Has Won, the team was told by Miguel to “cut them off or leave.”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“Okay, but if I’m not in a cult, how do I know if someone else is?”

There’s also a list of warning signs regarding people involved with a potential cult, which we’ll go over so you can compare this list to the actions of Love Has Won members. This is just the list, no more explanation paragraphs about how it’s a cult, don’t worry.

1. Extreme obsessiveness regarding the group/leader resulting in the exclusion of almost every practical consideration.

2. Individual identity, the group, the leader and/or God as distinct and separate categories of existence become increasingly blurred.

(important note: majority of LHW team members were given “godly” names. while in the cult, they went by the “godly” names as opposed to their birth names.)

3. Whenever the group/leader is critized or questioned it is charactered as ‘’persecution’’.

4. Uncharacteristically stilted and seemingly programmed conversation and mannerisms, cloning of the group/leader in personal behavior.

5. Dependency upon the group/leader for problem solving, solutions, and definitions without meaningful reflective thought. A seeming inability to think independent or analyze situations without group/leader involvement.

6. Hyperactivity centered on the group/leader agenda, which seems to supercede any personal goals or individual interests.

7. A dramatic loss of spontaneity and sense of humor.

8. Increasing isolation from family and old friends unless they demonstrate an interest in the group/leader.

9. Anything the group/leader does can be justified no matter how harsh or harmful.

(see: amy’s cat abuse + LHW locking children in closets when they were overwhelmed from the noise of the home)

10. Former followers are at–best considered negative. At worst, evil and under bad influences. They can not be trusted and personal contact is avoided.

In September of 2020, shortly after the group returned to Colorado, it had been stated that Amy was in extremely poor health- being paralyzed from the waist down. Love Has Won still hosted their daily livestreams, but those now included scenes of Amy having to be picked up and carried to bed, unable to walk on her own. According to Amy herself, she had cancer- though it’s not confirmed how accurate this statement is, and autopsy reports make no mention of this claim, or anything alluding to it being true.

In early April of 2021, Love Has Won was located in an RV park in Mount Shasta, CA. They were asked to leave due to overcrowding. In the weeks leading up to her death, numerous wellness checks were called for Amy, usually being called in by her sister, or mother, who would watch the streams. Each time the police arrived to preform these wellness checks, Love Has Won claimed Amy wasn’t home.

Amy was last seen alive by somebody not affiliated with Love Has Won on April 10th, 2021.

Now, it’s worth mentioning that the team of Love Has Won knew Amy was dying- but that’s not how they saw it. Love Has Won was convinced that a starship, piloted by Robin Williams, would come to pick Amy up and take her to ‘’ascend’’ to the 5D plane.

At Amy’s request, the group travelled to Ashland, Oregon- where they stayed at Callahan’s Mountain Lodge. According to two Love Has Won members, Amy had asked to be taken to the hospital, but the team refused, claiming:

‘’Mom doesn’t know what she’s talking about- she would never set foot in a 3D hospital. That’s a death sentence.’’

While in Ashland, Amy lost all motor control, and required around the clock help for daily tasks. At an unknown date, Amy passed away in the room of Callahan’s Mountain Lodge. When staff became suspicious, her body was transported to the Mount Hood National Forest. The group camped there, with ‘’Father God’’ sharing a tent with Amy’s corpse. They were waiting for the ‘’Galactic’’ beings to come and retrieve her body, but ‘’Father God’’ claimed he heard a calling to move her body. As a result, Love Has Won drove her body back to the group’s home in Crestone, Colorado- where Miguel, the one in charge of finances, called the police to report that the group had brought Amy’s body into his home and were staying there without permission.

Amy’s body was found- mummified, and in a sleeping bag. She was wrapped in christmas lights, and her face was covered in glitter. Her eyes were missing due to the decomposition. Police described the findings as a ‘’makeshift shrine.’’

The Galactics never came.

After Amy’s death, an autopsy was done. Her autospy was released in December of 2021, and states her cause of death as the following:

‘’Global decline in the setting of alcohol abuse, anorexia, and chronic colloidal silver ingestion.’’

The autopsy found no proof to substantiate Amy’s claims that she had cancer.

Seven members of Love Has Won would have charges brought against them for child abuse, abuse of a corpse, tampering with deceased human remains, and false imprisonment. If convicted, they would have been facing around 12 years at the lowest. The charges were later dropped for the following reasons:

• It happened in Colorado. In Colorado, you cannot be charged with both ‘’abuse of a corpse’’ and ‘’tampering with deceased human remains’’ if both charges arose from a single incident.

• Amy’s corpse showed no signs of being tampered with in a malicious way- and for being a corpse found in a makeshift shrine, was in decent condition. It’s clear her body was respected after her death.

• The prosecutor told the judge he thought the constitionality would be in question regarding abuse of a corpse involving Carlson’s body decorations.

Despite the house and group’s bank accounts both being in Miguel’s name, he faced no charges. He did, however, empty the bank accounts, totaling $333,000. He has not been heard from by the group since April 28th, 2021, and news outlets have failed to locate him. HBO did locate him, but he refused to participate in the documentary.

Amy Carlson’s remains were returned to her family.

As of 2024, Love Has Won is still active. Father God now claims to share a body with Mother, with some ‘’sources’’ claiming to have seen Mother’s face ‘’on top’’ of Father’s face, and heard them both speaking. They still believe that Mother will return, and are still trying to recruit new team members.

Their website states that they have some pretty ambitious goals. Apparently, Father is asking for donations to build a school where children can learn about their ‘’true’’ parents. He is also asking for donations for a hotel room, with the tagline ‘’RESPECT GOD WITH A HOTEL STAY.’’

On top of these, he plans to build a house for the team to live in. Where he plans to acquire this money? We may never know. After the HBO documentary, they seem to struggle quite a bit with recruitment. Any Google search of their name will bring up hundreds of articles, documentaries, and videos telling you the same thing I am: Love Has Won is a dangerous cult.

They still are very active online, having accounts on nearly every mainstream social media platform- though most have been banned or terminated by site moderators. If you look for it, you’ll find it. Don’t let it find you, though. I’d really rather not see you guys on a documentary six years down the line. Thanks.

Some members never left, though. The group remains active, and most likely will for the foreseeable future. Unless, of course, the starship comes to take them to the fifth dimensional plane.

Overall, it’s a mindfuck. They target people already struggling with addiction, telling them that psychedelics and alcohol are ‘’medicine’’ if used properly. Love Has Won affirms other people’s delusions, and if you know anything about people who suffer from delusions, you know they tend to stick around the people who affirm what they believe.

I think Amy’s story is a bit sad, though. I do believe at some point she realized how wrong she was, but it was too late. The team would convince her she really was Mother God whenever she expressed these thoughts- she did invite her family to come visit her when she was dying. Upon her daughter writing a strongly worded email, Amy simply replied something to the effect of ‘’You look just like me. I love you, feel free to come visit me in Hawaii anytime.’’

None of her family showed up, though. Probably as a direct result of the way she treated them. She abandoned her child, and had minimal contact with her sister and mother. At the end of the day, Amy Carlson was an abusive cult leader at best, but it’s still hard not to mourn who she could have been had she gotten proper help. She begged to go to a hospital, they refused. I think if things would have played out differently in Amy’s first relationship, none of this would have had happened. But hey, what do I know?

Anyways, this post has been really draining for me. It’s taken me three days to write it, and that’s not including the weeks of research I had to do, and the days and nights I had to spend communicating with these lunatics. This post will be queued, so whenever you see this, assume I’m sleeping for the first time in days.

I’d like to make a special thank you to the following people for helping me out with this:

@silliesthumanalive for helping me analyze the transcript of the interview

@goredawg for letting me complain about how exhausting it was, and letting me ramble whenever I found something new out.

Anyways, I hope you all enjoyed reading, and I know this was really long- but I’d rather have the information available. I’m sure at least one person will learn something, whether it be about identifying cults, or simply realizing how fucking insane these people were and continue to be.

TLDR; Amy Carlson did shrooms in the early 2000s. Then became convinced she was God, and the reincarnate of hundreds of celebrities. Apparently, managers at McDonalds can become Jesus. Got people to follow her message, and ended up dying as a direct result from the message she spread. Don't join a cult, kids- and don't try to create one, either.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

# I hope none of you guys get kidnapped by the John Lennon starship and taken to the fifth dimensional plane. All complaining on my end aside, I’d be lying if I said this wasn’t kind of fun to work on. Thanks for reading! :)

# Also, I apologize for how the text was broken up. Normally I’d keep it somewhat clumped together and just use a divider, but there’s so much text here, I feel like this formatting is significantly easier to digest.

[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.

[teaandchoux]

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?"

[therandompagesblog]

Her Soul for His Soul Chapter 11 🌞Y/N🌞

Trigger Warnings: Exhumation, Paranoia, Dementia, Mentions of hallucination

Six days and Seungmin still had not been summoned. I promised him no matter how hard it got I would solve this case. Even Winter and Lisa were helping research the death files of those who died in the factory. It was helpful that we learned his name was Charles but the problem was there were three Charles and they were all similar ages. "What do we do?" Lisa asked as Winter hit the table. "Does any of them at least say who his parents were?" I asked but Winter shook her head. "No!" Winter sighed.        We had spent three hours in the library trying to decipher which Charles died in the factory. We looked in the archives. The internet archives. There was nothing.       I had an idea. Winter could text Jeongin since she could summon him as much as she liked or call him since he had a phone. I wished Seungmin would have a phone. "Penny for your thoughts?" Winter asked as she slid a penny over making me roll my eyes. "We could ask Jeongin since I promised Seungmin I wouldn't summon him until I buried him. Or at least that's what I remember... it's been a long few days." Y/N whined. "No. Shit but I'll ask him for some pointers but he might be back in hell for a while so we'll have to wait." Winter told me.       Sighing to myself I picked up Seungmin's book and automatically hugged it despite Winters's giggles.       Of course, it embarrassed me that he could hear and feel everything I said to him, but now I wanted him. I really wanted him. I felt I had gotten close to him and there was so much that I still needed to tell him.        I needed to tell him why I summoned him in more depth. I needed to understand entities more and what they wanted from me.

BACK AT THE ACCOMMODATION, WINTER told us how she met Jeongin and why she summoned him.         Winter told us, it started with going to her Grandfather about her seeing the figure behind me. Her grandfather told her he did not know much about what his wife had seen or believed in but he believed her.        Her grandfather experienced entities to the full extent where they ate the souls to secure a vessel or try to become living again.        Her grandfather had watched his wife save people for years from these creatures and protected them from being haunted until it got too much for his wife.        It got so much for Winter's grandmother that she started to suffer from sightings quite badly and gained paranoia with her age. Apparently her poor grandmother could not tell the difference between real and fake sightings which caused her dementia.        It broke my heart to hear that social services got involved and took her grandmother away to a specialist care home because she was becoming a risk, even though what she saw was real. It was real because we were all seeing it. All three of us.         Winter told us that all she was left with was the books in her office that was untouched in case a child or a grandchild developed the gift of being a medium. A middle-grounded person. Which so happened to be Winter.         Except Winter developed the gift later in life and when the entities attacked me. "So how do you feel about all of this? It is a lot." I told her as I crossed my legs on the itchy carpet. "Being a medium or whatever my grandfather called it, gives me closure. I understand my grandmother more and more than ever. It makes me want to fight for her because only my grandfather did when everyone thought she was crazy.         What I will say is. I am still learning and reading the books my grandmother left to understand how to help. I don't even know how to save you from this Y/N.          All I know is that when we didn't say goodbye and ran it fell out of the Ouija board and attached itself to you. It wants to harbour your body. The vessel. And it won't stop until it can, but they don't like Demons. Demons scare them. It's their essence that frightens them it haunts the entities back.        If Seungmin or Jeongin isn't around they will come for you. I will admit Jeongin has been in my room at night. I will say for me but also Seungmin didn't want you haunted too much. He cares about you but demons care in heightened ways."

Hearing Seungmin care deeply made me feel warm inside. It was progress. It was beautiful to hear he cared. Demons were beautiful in different ways. They were just fallen angels who defied God. It wasn't a crime to defy your creator. Children do it all the time with their parents. Defy them.         Winter smiled at us awkwardly when Lisa asked about how she summoned Jeongin. That was the most important part of the information while I was thinking the opposite. I was thinking about how her grandparents met.      Winter rolled her eyes at that comment and threw a pillow at me. Only I would be interested in the elderly love life. "So Jeongin?!" Lisa reminded her before she shared how her grandparents met. "My grandmother left a kindred spirit book for the next medium. I summoned it and out popped Jeongin." Winter said plainly. "No. No. Tell us the story properly." I told her with my arms crossed. "Alright. So my grandmother did leave a book. But I don't know why. Curiosity killed the cat and I did summon it impulsively. Jeongin popped up rather excitedly in his demon form.          We kind of saw each other and went from there. Talked all night. He ended up in my bed I granted him my soul. For protection and not for sex Lisa. He's kind." "Sounds different to Y/N. He calls to her." Lisa hinted making me blush. "Yeah, Jeongin mentioned he's been acting strange. I reckon you are kindred spirits but for demons, it's something else. Seungmin is trying to figure it out because it's so rare in their world he wants to be certain."        I sat there puffing my cheeks as I thought back to the way the book called me from the beginning. Maybe it was time to go back to that bookshop and ask Pearl for her opinion or some answers.

SLEEPY HOLLOWS FELT DIFFERENT. It was open at different times of the day. It shut at five instead of seven. The air felt different this time. It felt off. Not welcoming. Even Lisa felt it was off. The shop even looked slightly different. It looked as though it had a renovation because of different owners. It felt strange but the three of us went in.       I looked around to see the bookcases had moved. There weren't crystals anywhere or a lot of dream catchers. It was like it all changed or didn't exist. "Hello. We were gifted a book a few weeks ago by Pearl. We were wondering if she was around." I asked. The bookkeeper looked at us as if we had lost our minds or insulted him. "I'm sorry, but my grandmother Pearl died twenty years ago. I don't know what you're on about but clearly you're mistaken." The man said grumpily, causing me and Lisa to look at each other wide-eyed. "I apologise. I did not mean any offence. I must have mistaken her name for the woman who gave me this book on kindred spirits." I told him. The man sighed and pinched the bridge between his eyebrows, before asking us to wait one second.       A few moments later an older man appeared. He looked as though he was the bookkeeper's father. The bookkeeper was whispering something to him and he was nodding away. "Hello, my name is Mikel. I'm Pearl's son. You say my mother gave you a kindred spirit book?" Mikel asked. I nodded and showed it to him. I didn't let him touch it as I felt protective of Seungmin but Mikel seemed to know not to touch a kindred spirit book anyway. "Come downstairs. There is a reason my mother appeared." Mikel told me. I nodded and handed my bag and Seungmin to Lisa who hissed at the burning feeling, so I could follow the man privately down into his office.

The man guided me and opened the door for me to enter as he turned on the light. "My mother doesn't just appear for no reason. She was a kindred spirit specialist." He told me as we walked into his office. He guided me to a chair and I sat in it. "Kindred spirits are like ghosts who never lived on this earth or some did thousands of years ago. They are like guardian angels who protect you and care for you. They come in different shapes and forms. My mother Pearl had one who protected me and her when my father was abusive.       The kindred spirit would often play with me at the park like an imaginary friend. She would buy me snacks. Keep me out of trouble at school.      She was my mother's best friend. She taught my mother all about kindred spirits. My mother said she protected her from my father. The kindred spirit healed her soul and her mind. I don't remember her name just her face. She was like a nanny. Very kind.      You see. My mother was protective of kindred spirits. They are not to be used nor abused. They are to be protected as you are. They are like soul platonic soul mates or romantic soul mates. They are all different.      Some kindred spirits are demonic. Playful things to taint your soul but those are very rare. Those ones are overwhelming. Their emotions are quick and rapid. They want to consume faster than ever.      From what I believe my grandmother saw this book called to you and only you so she hid it. Protected it because she knew this kindred spirit belongs to you."      I listened to his words. Letting them run over my body. I felt excitement. Fear. Strength. At the same time, I wanted to talk to Seungmin. I wanted to understand how he felt. "Talk to them. I can see they have found you and things have progressed." Mikel told me. "Thank you, Mikel. Thank you." I grabbed his hand and thanked him. He patted my hand with a smile.         We went back upstairs to see a grumpy Lisa holding the rucksack and a curious Winter. "Jeongin has found the grave, well Seungmin did but told Jeongin to tell us" Winter said happily while eyeing Mikel. "Seungmin keeps shaking in the bag. I may have slapped him." I sighed and took the book out of the bag. I could feel Seungmin calm down in my arms. I kissed him and stroked the spine feeling him calm down. "Let's go to the graveyard," I said.

IT WAS DARK. COLD. WET. DAMP. The graveyard was eerily quiet as we stood outside the gate. I carried the body. Lisa carried a restless Seungmin who was agitated and Winter carried a shovel.      The graveyard was massive but Jeongin instructed us she was buried down by the creek at the bottom of the hill. "Let's dig up a grave," I said. Winter and Lisa nodded, following me to the fence so we could climb over. Winter was going last as she was the most athletic out of us.       Once we climbed over we walked down the pathway to the creek. Apparently Seungmin smelled a similar scent at the Elizabeth Smith graveyard. This was something that made sense as there was a Charles that had two parents called Elizabeth and John Smith so it had to be this Charles. Our playful Charles that wanted his mother, Elizabeth      When we reached the creek we all took a row to look for an Elizabeth Smith as Jeongin did not give us any specifics. "Charles, are you out here? Where is your mother?" I called out. Holding the child close to me as I cradled his head . Praying the little boy would appear one last time so I could say goodbye. "Charles I have a ball for you. Do you want to play with it?" I whispered out. My voice croaked in sadness as I thought about how special a ball would be.        I dropped the ball down and kicked it slowly. Watching it roll down the hill. When I heard a faint giggle. I stopped. Waiting.        The ball came rolling back to me with a happy giggle making me smile. I kicked the ball back down the hill and it came back. I laughed and followed it down the hill when I realised it was buried by the creek at the bottom of it.       The mother's grave was sunken into the ground. It was slightly collapsed. I looked back to see Lisa and Winter looking for the grave. Occasionally Lisa would shake the bag scolding it for its sharp burns.       I shook my head and walked around the creek to reach the grave when I realised they were all sunken graves. Carefully I tried not to step on them but my feed sunk in the mud, causing me to cringe at the wet mud.       When I reached Elizabeth and John Smiths grave I dropped down to my knees and touched the gravestone. "I found them, Charles. It's time to go home now with your ball." I whispered softly as I looked back at Winter signalling to come over with the shovel.         Winter appeared with the shovel and walked back to Lisa to give me some space so I could bury the boy in peace.         I took a deep breath and started to dig. My stomach churned as I dug. It felt sacrilegious to do so. It was disrespectful. "Your son Mr and Mrs Smith has been forever playful. He is such a good boy. We've had so much fun together and it's time for him to go home." I whispered. Tears streamed down my face as I placed Charles into the grave, before kissing him on the forehead. "One more thing. Here is your football. Keep kicking it around."        I slowly shovelled the dirt back into the grave neatly, patting it down. I went to stand in front of the grave when something grabbed my ankle pulling me into the creek.        I tried to fight it and kick out but it gripped my ankles. Water consumed my lungs and I couldn't breathe. My arms tried to fight for me but I was beginning to get tired. I was trying to fight when I accidentally breathed in the water causing me to gag and cough under the water. My heart thumped rapidly and my body went cold. Everything went dark.

Taglist for the iconic readers:

@silentreadersthings @ihrtlix @galaxy4489 @catlove83 @reallychaoticwoo @leezanetheofficial @linocz @hyunmikim @eastjonowhere @skzdreamer13 @mavischerry @kiaralynn3838 @jellyleggz @mihoonz

[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?