#Stolen Book two
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Please tell me about art and media you know of that accurately captures the weirdness of dream logic and atmosphere and emotions... books and movies and video games and art and comics and YouTube stuff, whatever you want... you know, where it only makes sense on an intuitive level and falls apart when you try to explain it...
#im trying to think of examples#a great one is mullholland drive by david lynch#also actually some of david firth's (salad fingers guy's) sock series animations did that so well for me back in the day#like you know where something or someone or a place can be two things at the same time in the dream?#and how something weird and silly can have the strongest serious emotions attached to it#and how stories within stories happen#eternal sunshine of the spotless mind#was good w these vibes#silent hill 2 as well and sort of majora's mask#the book orlando#actually you know what i just rewatched a bunch of david firth's cartoons and Pulch: The Good Times is actually a better dreamlike one#than some of his dream series to me somehow#the way it has this wistful tragic nostalgic nonsense vibe that like you'd probably find deep and sad while having the dream#but upon waking it both makes no sense and seems stupid and funny instead if you were to try to explain it#also the nightmarish one about soup or wtv#when the little person gets all upset about her soup being stolen hahaha and then the creepy guy goes 'you forgot your hammer'#anywayssss#many of these things have stuck in my head since like 2007 or wtv idk theyre just fun#Sock 4: Sock Lops is good for the weird narrative jumping dream logic vibes#if you can stand to watch that much 2000s newgrounds edgy animation in this day and age...#p
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Come one, come all! Today we bring you the best of the best, from all across the land, to compete in the ultimate competition. Who will be crowned as the biggest, most pathetic, simp of all time? Listen to find out.
Our Challengers: Thomas Cresswell from Stalking Jack the Ripper by Kerri Maniscalco Vektal from Ice Planet Barbarian by Ruby Dixon Damianos of Akielos from The Captive Prince by C. S. Pacat Rhysand from the A Court of Thorns and Roses series by Sarah J. Maas Lorcan Salvaterre from the Throne of Glass series by Sarah J. Maas Edward Cullen from Twilight by Stephenie Meyer Oliver Marks from If We Were Villains by M. L. Rio Benjamin Evans from The Darkest Part of the Forest by Holly Black Cardan Greenbriar from The Folk of the Air by Holly Black Kaz Brekker from Six of Crows by Leigh Bardugo Oak Greenbriar from The Stolen Heir by Holly Black Prince Corrick from the Defy the Night series by Brigid Kemmerer Matthias Helvar from Six of Crows by Leigh Bardugo Hal Cavendish from Down Comes the Night by Allison Saft Nathaniel Thorn from A Sorcery of Thorns by Margaret Rogerson Jamie Westenberg from Two Wrongs Make a Right by Chloe Liese Follow the hosts at @figonas @adxmparriish @hazelsheartsworn @laequiem
Join our book club, WORNPAGELIBRARY!
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#throne of glass#acotar#twilight#sjtr#stalking jack the ripper#ice planet barbarians#if we were villains#iwwv#tfota#the folk of the air#six of crows#the stolen heir#defy the night#down comes the night#a sorcery of thorns#two wrongs make a right#the captive prince#books#book club#book club podcast#podcast#book podcast#Spotify
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kids are so fucking noisy. i have never been as disturbed by any animal the way kids are so noisy and constantly. generate. noise. they cant even go to the library without kicking the wall and throwing things and screaming their lungs out. ban kids from entering the library 🖤
#lest i make this reminder: me = misanthrope.#people HATE animals but#my neighbors dog isnt having tantrums and screaming and hitting the wall for hours in the middle of the night lmao#dogs arent screaming their lungs out and hitting the windows on the bus#dogs arent howling and screaming and crying during a late night cinema#dogs arent running around like rats on amphetamines and screaming in the library#like jesus fuckinggggg christttttt#at least the library should be quiet#but no. parents have stolen the library and turned it into a playground#THAT has singlehandedly made me go from being ok w kids to hating on them#like shut the fuck up???????#trying to look for books in the library and this fucking ugly thing is stomping and yelling???? and nobody does anything???#another kid is having a temper tantrum and two kids are running around yelling#im trying to studyyyyyy#libraries are NOT made for children!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! the purpose with a library is NOT it being a playground for kids#god. bring back the mines!!!!!!!!! 🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣 as long as they dont disturb the library idgaf 🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤
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how many people are gonna only buy the stolen century volume of the taz balance graphic novels you think
#we have all of them but i get the feeling there are going to be people who only buy the last one#also... is it going to be two books#cuz like the final arc is interrupted by the stolencentury#i wonder how they're gonna go about that#i wouldn't mind two books tbh#taz balance#the adventure zone#mcelroys#dont get me wrong i would not judge anyone for doing this lol#it's just a prediction that their sales of the stolen century book(s) will be the highest
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( me: I’m gonna finished The Familiar first, and then I’m going to read the Calling since DA has consumed me once more
Also me: *stares at the Calling for several days before giving in, with the Familiar only half-read* whoops… )
#[chaos mode]&ooc#I have no self control#and also have a bad habit of starting multiple books at once#normally it’s like#a kindle book or an audiobook started at the same time as a physical#this time I’ve just got two physical books started#and also a kindle one oops#also young Duncan is wonderful already tbh I love him#and I love getting a little more Maric#even if it’s sad Maric and not my dorky guy from stolen throne
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2024 reads / storygraph
The Midnight Market
fantasy adventure
A sea elf gets her magic & voice stolen by a thief, and goes on a journey on land to get it back before it's sold at a magical night market, with the help of a city guard
no romance
#The Midnight Market#aroaessidhe 2024 reads#hm; this is okay. The writing isn't amazing but it's readable.#I thought the two MCs had an interesting dynamic! a nice friendship focus#there’s some good fey moments. and the sea dragon at the end?? and her magic was interesting!#I love how she’s a bit feral and doesn’t understand human culture#Overall a lot of the narrative and choices felt like they just happened because it was plotted that way.#There's various hurdles along the way but there's always an immediate convenient way to solve it#and like…had me questioning why they didn’t make other more obvious choices???#They spend half a day getting a water breathing potion made to cross the river when she has magical sea creatures they could ride??#I will also say the plot is basically let's find all of these criminals and their underground trading and put them all in jail /prison labo#like if they were killing and trading magical creatures or something then sure#but other than her voice being stolen all we really saw was like gambling and illegal trading? damn what are you; cops?#(he basically is a cop. a shame)#I did hear the mc is aroace which is why I read this - I guess it’s word of god because there’s no indication of that in the book.#a friendship focus and no romance is also something I like in a book though; so i guess.#tho idk if i liked it enough for it to be worth that#no romance
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apparently my destiny is to work on manuscripts where there's fuck all clues on their provenance
#there's one line. ERASED because apparently that book was stolen at some point#a line that maaaybe was saying “sancti maximini”.#e grazie al cazzo. how many claustrum Sancti Maximini there are in Europe?!! let me tell you. MANY#this was meant to be an easy research...#I named this other manuscript and she obviously asked me to at least say when amd where this manuscript was made.#eh#two hours in and I have a reconstruction of a line made by a xvii century scholar#:/#personal#thesis#university things
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i wouldnt go so far as to call the calling a good book necessarily, but it's so much better than the stolen throne and it's actually got an interesting plot & lore, it's very refreshing when im reading them in order
#personal#da#i love grey warden stuff it's so juicy. horrifying! especially in this book! im glad they went that route!#still not a good book! but not on the same level as the stolen throne. god.#one thing about the da books is that they do generally trend upwards in quality which makes reading them a decent experience#or at least a better experience than it would be otherwise#in terms of being a good book the one i enjoy the most is last flight (although the current day chapters are a bit empty)#but for lore the calling probably is my favourite#asunder and the masked empire are better books than these first two but the plots...... god the plots.#if he wasnt the protag of asunder i think i would feel pretty indifferent towards rhys but that book makes me *hate* him#and as for the masked empire........ well ive talked before about how i just cant bring myself to care AT ALL about orlesian politics#some of the elf bits are interesting. give me a book about felassan. but also. yeesh. they did the wlw baaaad#not that i can complain if im saying i like the calling. one of the more jarring instances of bury your gays#like hey could you maybe give us wlw relationships that arent terrible and mlm relationships where they dont DIE
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Happy STS! I'm turning your question back on you cause I really wanna know. What's a line or scene from your works that you're proud of?
Hello hun! Thank you for the ask <3 I hope your weekend's going well!
I'm not gonna lie, I thought this would be an easy one to answer but I've been staring at my screen for ages trying to pick just one line/scene.
Do I share my most recent one? Or the first time I remember reaading back a line and falling in love with my own words? Or something in the middle of all that?
I've finally settled on a scene in book two of my 'Stolen Stories' series, where Stella runs across a creature I've designed called the Krilla-Setika. I really love this scene in part because it was quite fun to write Stella just falling back in base insticts, her fear overiding thought when she's usually very held together, but I also just really loved describing the creature I'd created.
It was great fun adding details for the reader, the longer Stella stared at it, and just upping the creep-factor as it advanced on her...
They retraced their steps back towards the window they'd used to enter the building, moving quickly but not quite falling into a run as Reilly pulled them both to a stop at every corner so he could carefully check the next hallway. It was the soft clicking sound of claws against stone made them both pause, but Stella could already tell it wasn't coming from the hallway Reilly was in the middle of checking, her free hand landing against his shoulder as she glanced behind them and froze. It looked like a weasel, with large bat shaped wings, but it was huge. Almost twice as large as the mountain lions that roamed the peaks to the north and as Stella stared at the creature that seemed to be dripping shadows of smoke, its clawed feet clung to the wall and it skittered up to hang from the ceiling, it's wings spreading wide as the finger-like hooks at the wing tips embedded into the walls, bracing the creature and keeping it in place as Stella backed away. "Don't run," Reilly hissed in her ear and she shivered, eyes transfixed by the creature before her, but the longer she stared the more she saw. Scales covered its body, but it was somehow still translucent. She could see the hall behind through it's smokey form, and she shook her head, her skin crawling with the desire to get as far away as fast as possible. "Stella, don't run," Reilly warned again, his hand still curled around hers, but the creature tipped it's head at Reilly's voice, and she took another step back at the movements of a hunter, a predator, and she wanted nothing more than to flee. "Walk, don't run..." Stella could hear Reilly, knew the man well enough to know that he had to have a reason for the recommendation, but as the mass of dripping shadows began advancing slowly, her control snapped and she turned on her heel, dashing for their exit with Reilly's hand still grasped in hers.
#Asks#Asks Answered#Friends#Mutuals#STS#Storyteller Saturday#Writeblr#Writeblr Community#Writing#Writing Community#Snippet#Excerpt#Stolen#Stolen Stories#Takeover#Book Two#Stella Korazon#Reilly Mosswolf#Krilla-Setika#Original Monster#Original Writing#Epic Fantasy#Romantic Fantasy
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IT'S AI HENCE NOT ART.







Wounds of the Earth
— by xis.lanyx
#this was made by a machine that took a bunch of stolen work and mixed it together after someone typed a concept in it#so no it's not art it's the equivalent of taking two books and glue them together and then claiming you wrote something! yay
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I got 3 new books, one as a gift, and stopp books r so expensive and I feel so guilty everytime I buy one snd I always regret buying them and I alr spent sm money today and arghhhh😭😭😭
#I always buy books snd js leave them on my shelf#Because I tend to prefer reading digitally#And I haven't read sm of the physical books I have#Ughhh there's only like 3 more I want physically now#I'll try to demotivate myself from getting one of them physically#And the other two I lowkey rlly want in physical because I have the rest of their series or books by their author in physical so yk I js#Wanna continue it#But I bought one that I didn't plan on buying and I regretted it as soon as I paid#And I left one taht I rlky wanted to buy because it was rlly small and there was no space between lines and I wanted to annotate it#But I can't buy it online because my mom didn't let me get it last year#Ughhhh#The books I bought today were stolen heir (dont regret) and this woven kingdom (regret) and the brothers hawthrone (for friend)#The one I left was the dead poets society
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Resharing this because, apparently, it still needs to be said. 🙄🙄
For the love of god, please stop putting Elain’s arc on Azriel! It’s NOT about HIS choice. It IS about HERS. Elain, who has had every decision made for her. Elain who has never gotten to voice what she wanted. Elain, who’s own mother used her as a pawn to wed off one day so they could live well.
ELAIN’S ARC IS ABOUT MAKING A CHOICE FOR HERSELF. 👏👏👏
There is no love triangle between Elain, Az, and Gwyn. There is no love square between them three and Lucien. It is Elain’s love triangle between Az and Lucien. Her choice between what the Cauldron shoved at her or what she truly wants.
Ship whoever you want. But stop changing the narrative that the next book is about Azriel picking between two women (because really? Ew.).
Elain: the female who’s never had a choice.
Azriel: the male who’s never been chosen.
It’s literally right there!!
Fuck, okay. Rant over.
#the way my eyes roll when I see people asking who do you think Az will pick#azriel isn’t the one fighting for his agency#stop making it about him#also who the fuck wants to read a book that pits two women against each other#because I sure as fuck don’t#this is about Elain making a choice#Elain who’s always had her voice stolen from her#Elain standing up for herself and declaring what she wants#stop trying to change the narrative to make your ship relevant
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jeon jungkook - the boy is mine
warnings ; this is porn. that’s all there is to it. reader is PINING, reader’s bff is a cunt, alcohol consumption, unprotected sex, fingering, oral (f recieving), dirty talk, spit play kinda, jk worshipping you, someone walks in on yall..
prompt ; in which your best friend needs to be taught a lesson on who your crush belongs to.
a/n ; i mean, this is absolute whore behavior on my end and i have no words. beware this is long AS A MOTHERFUCKER. and so much plot. enjoy. also this is college!jk and reader so WOO (also loosely based on the boy is mine - arianaaaa)
Some people were just meant to be in the background.
Or, at least that’s what you’ve been telling yourself for quite some time now.
You were the kind of person who blended into the background, voice barely rising above a whisper when spoken to, presence often slipping unnoticed into corners of rooms. Some days were spent in Yonsei University’s prestigious library, buried in books, worlds that didn’t require attention, where the characters spoke louder than you dare would. It wasn’t that you minded, though—you were content to remain in the quiet… well, as long as your best friend, Seo-yeon, shone like a star in the midst of it all.
Nevertheless, there were times when her shine cast a shadow, and that light felt a little too harsh. You didn’t mind when Seo-yeon needed a shoulder to lean on, but lately it seemed like all she did was lean—never giving anything in return. And you tried to brush it off, scolding your brain it’s just the pressure of her rich father but deep down, you could not shake the feeling that Seo-yeon’s warmth was only reserved for someone else.
And that someone was your best friend since you were 10, Jeon Jungkook.
You get it. Who wouldn’t? Hottest guy at school, richest parents, biggest heart… and from the rumor mill, his heart wasn’t the only thing that’s big.
It’s always just been you and him. Jungkook and [Y/N], [Y/N] and Jungkook. Best friends since grade school, partners in crime on the playground. Really, they were setting you up for failure by having your best friend be someone who had a revolving door of women in his life. Even back in your young age, he somehow garnered more attention than an average adult. It was just who he was. You accepted that.
But then, somewhere along the timeline of convoluted wreckage your life, you two grew up. Grew closer, somehow. The lines of your life intertwined, never straying too far apart.
So, it was really no surprise to you when you woke up one day and realized you were madly, deeply, irrevocably, disgustingly, head over heels in love with him.
You had convinced yourself, over and over, that Jungkook knew. How could he not?
It was like this: you had seen a kiss in a television show when you were 11. Pondered what it felt like to do such a thing. It had been a fleeting moment, so innocent—just a brush of lips under the old oak tree in the park when you were 12, surrounded by the laughter of friends and the warmth of summer. But in that brief, stolen instant, something shifted inside you, a chemical reaction. The memory of that first kiss, so pure and untainted, lingered in the air, like a secret only you two shared.
You caught the glint in his eyes afterward, the way he looked at you as if seeing you for the first time, and ever since… well, ever since then, you’ve been his.
When Seo-yeon casually mentioned over drinks one night that Jungkook was sooooo cute and she was thinking of going for it, well, you should’ve been shocked, but how could you be?
She knew exactly what she wanted, and she wasn’t afraid to take it, even if it meant stepping on the quiet spaces you had carved out for yourself. It stung, of course, the idea that she could waltz in and claim something you had quietly held onto for years. But deep down, you knew the truth. You knew you would never go for it, not really—not with the unspoken barrier between you two, that kiss from ages ago still lingering in the air, in your blood.
And yet, Seo-yeon’s confidence in taking what she wanted, without hesitation or doubt, only reminded you of how much you were willing to give up, just to keep the peace. That’s who she was. And you? Well, you were the one who always let her take.
And all this to say, this is why you were standing with your spine pressed into the cold wall, eyes burning holes into Seo-yeon’s back, fingers digging into your red solo cup, heart thumping, as you watched her flirt with Jungkook.
It was supposed to be a fun night. Key word: supposed. Jungkook’s best friend, Jimin, had invited everyone to his house for a ‘get-together.’ You should’ve known when you got the invite it would be a party, another chance for you to be a wallflower.
And there you were, assuming your post, drinking whatever concoction Jimin’s roommate had created.
It was a tragedy.
The music swirled around you, yet you were caught in the gravity of Seo-yeon and Jungkook’s orbit. Every glance, every word that passed between them felt like a blade to your chest. Her laughter rang out, effortless and bright, and you watched as she leaned in closer to Jungkook, her fingers grazing his arm in a way that made the air between them shimmer with something unspoken. It was too much—too intimate, too easy.
You could feel the tension coiling inside you, a painful knot you didn’t know how to undo.
And before you do anything rash (or well, not that you will, but the thought of it) you hear a familiar voice that calms you down in the slightest.
“Boo.”
You instantly know it’s Taehyung, Jungkook’s other close friend who you’ve somehow managed to also become buddy-buddy with. You kinda had to, just to prove to Jungkook you can make other friends beside Seo-yeon. Tsk.
You lightly smile at him, but you refuse to take your eyes off Jungkook and Seo-yeon, as if you turn away for a second, they may leave you in the dust.
“You know… You’ve been staring at them like you’re waiting for them to start a new Netflix series or something.” He whispers near your ear, as if it’s some massive secret that no one could possibly guess.
You blinked, startled, “I’m not staring,” you mumbled, but Taehyung only raised an eyebrow.
“Sure you’re not. You're practically giving them a live commentary in your head, huh?
You scoff. “I don’t care if they talk. Honestly, I want them to get together. I mean, why not? It’s what she wants.”
His elbow lightly digs into your side, making you slap him away with ease, “Oh, really? Is that what you want? You’re not fooling anyone. You’re practically trying to will them together while simultaneously wanting to rip your hair out.”
“Why would you think I don’t want them to get together?” You roll your eyes.
You know exactly why. And.. may also have to do with the fact that besides your diary, Seo-yeon and yourself, Taehyung also knows about your little infatuation (which, and you remind yourself, only happened because you got quite drunk with him at the bar and admitted it two months ago.)
You don’t see it, but he rolls his eyes his again. “You are the worst liar I know.”
“I’m not lying,” you insisted.
He raises his arms up in defeat, “Fine, if lying is the route we’re taking, at least just tell Seo-Yeon to go home. Seriously, who even invited her?"
You finally remove your eyes off Jungkook and Seo-yeon to face Taehyung, who definitely looks drunker than you thought he sounded. “I’m not doing that. And plus, she’s my best friend.”
He snorts, “Really? The same best friend who’s currently talking to the boy she knows you’re in love with?”
Taehyung continues, probably, and you can only assume, because he got you to tear your eyes away from them and their incessant giggles. Really, what is so damn funny? “You’re practically turning into an accessory to the decor. Please go take him away from her. He already adores you.”
Jungkook did adore you—there was no doubt about that. When you both got accepted into the same university, he immediately integrated you into every friend group, every hangout.
But that was part of the problem, wasn’t it?
The temptation to rip Seo-yeon away, to somehow be the one he turned to, was enough as it is—but the fear of being seen, of finally stepping off the wall and making yourself known, kept you frozen.
Taehyung threw his hands up in mock defeat, still grinning. "Alright, alright, I give up. Do whatever you want, missy. But don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
You looked up at him, frowning, swirling your drink that’s been boiled down to just ice. “Warn me about what?”
“Don’t let this be one of those things you look back on and regret, thinking you should've acted before it was too late.”
You knew Taehyung was right, though admitting it felt like admitting defeat. You thought back to those moments with Jungkook—the way his high fives always lasted a beat longer than they should, or how his fingers would brush against your shoulder in the most casual way, as if it wasn’t just a touch, but something that had meaning beneath it. There were those quiet moments, too, when his gaze would linger, his eyes soft and unreadable, as though he was on the edge of something he couldn't quite grasp.
Deep down, there was that small, quiet part of you that wondered if he ever felt the same—if he ever wondered, like you did, whether you two could be more than just friends.
"Wow, when did you get so deep? You sound like one of those motivational speakers who talks about following your dreams and embracing the moment,” It’s your turn to roll your eyes, playfully pushing his shoulder.
He shot you a knowing look. "Hey, I’m just trying to save you from becoming the wise old lady at the bar telling stories about how you ‘almost’ told Jungkook you liked him when you were young and full of hope."
“Well, thank you for the life lesson.” You looked down at your cup, a heinous purple color now that the ice has completely melted. “I’ll stick to my alcohol for now.”
And he saunters off, weaseling his way through the hoard of people to bully his next victim, you suppose. You were a little tipsy, you won’t lie. With a sigh, you turned your head back to Seo-yeon and Jungkook.
…Where the fuck are they?
Now, it’s time to panic.
You pushed through a few random guys and girls, silently saying excuse me basically to no one but yourself. Vision gets hazy, but you can’t tell if it’s tears or the punch.
Heart flutters, skips a beat. There he is, pouring himself a cup at the drink table that’s been set up in the dining room. No Seo-yeon in sight. You assume you have 5 seconds before she comes back from wherever she is to trap him once more.
You waltzed up to the drink table, trying to act casual, but your heart skipped when you saw Jungkook standing there, grinning like he knew exactly what was going on in your head. He waved you over with that signature carefree smile, his bunny teeth poking out. “Well, well, look who finally decided to show up. Were you hiding from me or just avoiding everyone?”
You blinked, hands suddenly unsure of where to go as you fiddled with your cup. “I wasn’t hiding! Just… you know, blending in with the background. Like I do.”
Jungkook raised an eyebrow, his smirk turning into something a little more teasing. “Blending in? You? You’re like, the least subtle person here. You stand out more than the punch bowl.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” You joked as you lean over him to pour yourself another cup of punch.
He laughed, leaning closer like he was about to share a secret. “Okay, but seriously, where have you been? Where’s your head at? I know, I know I said get-together… but it’s definitely a party.”
“Tsk, tsk. You little player,” You sipped your drink, looking up into his doe eyes. God, he’s just so…
Your curiosity got the better of you. “So, uh... what’s the deal with Seo-yeon? You two talking about something important, or is she just... I don’t know, using you for your impeccable taste in drinks?” The jealousy tugging at your chest made it harder than you expected to sound casual.
A small chuckle escaped him. “Seo-yeon? Nah, she’s just, uh, talking my ear off about some random stuff. Nothing exciting.” He shrugged like it was nothing, his tone so nonchalant it almost made you second-guess why it bothered you. “Honestly, I don’t even know half of what she’s saying. I’m just nodding and pretending to be interested.”
You blinked, surprised that anyone could be bored at anything she had to say. “Wait, really? You’re just... pretending?”
“Yep,” Jungkook grinned, his eyes glinting with amusement. “It’s a skill I’ve perfected over the years. Maybe you should teach me how to do it with more people, though. I’m still not great at pretending to listen to people who don’t bring snacks.”
You laughed, a bit of the tension in your chest easing. “I’ll take that as a compliment. But seriously, you’re not fooling anyone. You’re way too nice to actually ignore people."
He shrugged his broad shoulders, something you’ve come to notice as he’s grown older. “Possibly, but-“
Your breath hitched when Seo-yeon reappeared, her presence as loud and effortless as a storm breaking the quiet. With a smile that was all too practiced, she glided over, her eyes immediately locking with Jungkook’s, as if the space between them had always been empty, waiting for her to fill it. “Hey, Jungkook,” she purred, her fingers brushing against his arm as she leaned in a little too close, a familiar, flirtatious glint dancing in her eyes. “Still owe me that drink, remember?”
Jungkook’s smile widened, completely unfazed by her proximity. His fingers wrapped around the cup and handed it to her, their hands brushing lightly, like it was the most natural thing in the world. “Of course,” he said, his voice soft, full of that gentle affection that made you want to stick a fork in your eye.
You felt the familiar nerves rise in your chest, the uncertainty pressing down on you like a weight you couldn’t shake. The scene before you felt too much, too close, and you found yourself backing away instinctively, your eyes flickering toward the exit. You just needed to escape, even for a second. But before you could take another step, Jungkook’s voice cut through the hum of the room, warm and easy. “Hey, do you wanna go play darts? Jimin has not shut up about it and I want to test out my skills.”
And he does it again. Digs you deeper and deeper into that dream of yours.
You took another sip out of your cup, locking eyes with Seo-yeon, who, for once in her life, looked nervous. See, if you weren’t 3 drinks deep, and you weren’t so desperate to remove her away from him, you would’ve went back to your post on the wall.
But Taehyung’s words linger in your brain like a broken record.
“You know, actually, I need to steal Seo-yeon away for a quick minute,” You reach out, grip onto her arm like it’s your lifeline. You’re almost certain you draw your fingernails in a little too deep to her skin.
“Huh?” Her eyes widened, blinking a few times.
You dragged her through the crowd, pulling her to the opposite side of the room with a swiftness that leaves Jungkook utterly baffled. He has stopped questioning yours and Seo-yeon’s friendship.
Your nerves buzzed with the alcohol in your system, and before you could stop yourself, the words tumbled out. "Why are you flirting with Jungkook?"
There it was, out in the open. Lingering in the air like a cloud of smoke.
Seo-yeon blinked in surprise, her eyebrows rising as if you had just grown another head. “What are you talking about?” she replied with that same airy sweetness, but the underlying edge was unmistakable. “I’m just being friendly.”
“Friendly?” You scoffed, feeling the alcohol’s warmth pushing your boldness forward. “It’s like you’re auditioning for a role in Jungkook’s life or something. You're so obvious.”
Seo-yeon laughed, a soft, dismissive sound. “I didn’t realize you cared so much, [Y/N]. Wow, look at you. Finally standing up for yourself. Guess it only took a little bit of liquid courage, huh?”
She tilted her head, her voice teasing. “Didn’t know you had it in you.”
All you see is red, and you’re kinda imagining what her head would look like ripped out of its socket.
She keeps pushing, keeps pressure testing, keeps dragging the knife through you. “Whatever. If you want to make this a thing, go ahead. But don’t act like I’ve been the one playing games.”
“You know what?” It’s a rhetorical question, turning back to you with a slight tilt of her head. “If you’re not going to make a move, I’m all in on Jungkook. You’ve had your chance. It’s not my fault you can’t get out of your own head.”
Your breath caught in your throat, and something in you snaps. The rage bubbled up from deep inside you—something you’d never shown Seo-yeon before. She wasn’t allowed to take this from you too.
"Is that it, then?" You shot back, your voice trembling with a mixture of anger and disbelief. "You think you can just take everything from me because I'm not bold enough for you? You think you can just waltz in and claim him like he's some kind of prize because you know I won’t fight you for him? That’s not how this works, Seo-yeon."
Seo-yeon opened her mouth to respond, but you weren’t finished. “No. I’m done letting you walk all over me. I care, Seo-Yeon. I care about him."
And now you can’t stop it, this word vomit that has plagued you, it keeps tumbling out, slurred but filled with an undeniable intensity. You didn’t care anymore; the alcohol had loosened every restraint, every last thread of caution. "You’ve known. You’ve known I loved him this whole damn time. You’ve always known, and you’ve always taken from me—always—like you could just have whatever you wanted. I’m done pretending I’m okay with it.”
The silence between you two felt like a storm was brewing, the air thick with tension, and you, a tad too drunk to fully grasp what you were saying, but not so drunk that you didn’t know it was the truth.
Seo-yeon’s lips curled into a sly smile, her eyes flicking to the side before meeting yours again. "Well, you know what they say…the best girl always wins, right?"
You’ve already ruined the friendship, put the nail in the coffin and sent her floating down the river. You gripped your red solo cup so roughly you think it might break, “You think you're the best girl? Maybe it's time someone showed you that I’m done being second place. I’m done being the girl who just watches. I’m going to fight for him. You’ve had your turn, Seo-yeon.”
Seo-yeon’s eyes widened just a fraction, but she quickly regained her composure, laughing lightly. “Oh, really? You’re going to fight for him now? How cute.”
Your jaw tightened, but she didn’t back down. “Yeah. I am.”
And, you are certain if only Taehyung could hear you now, he would throw another party just for you having this conversation. You storm away, leave her in the dust to settle on its own. A part of your resolve breaks a little realizing that your own college best friend since day one of freshman year, was not the person you thought she was. But, that’s not what really matters to you.
The night dragged on, clusters of people fading in and out of the party. You don’t necessarily pay attention, you’re too busy feeling like a World War III hero after your triumph. You laughed with Taehyung in the corner, even flirted with a few people. Anything to take your mind off Seo-yeon desperately throwing herself at Jungkook, but you knew better than to look.
The lights felt dimmer, the music quieter. Jimin, ever the instigator, stood up with a grin that spread across his face like a mischievous secret. "Alright," he said, his voice warm but teasing as he looked around at the gathered circle of about 20 leftover wranglers. "Truth or dare, anyone?"
You broke your conversation with Taehyung, hesitated for a brief moment, heart thudding louder than the music. Normally, you would’ve stayed out of it—content to sit on the edge and observe. But tonight, something inside you whispered that this was the moment to stop being the quiet one.
A laugh rang out from someone in the group. “Really, Jimin? Truth or dare? We’re in our twenties, not twelve.”
Jimin just shrugged, unfazed, the playful gleam in his eyes still dancing. “Don’t care. It’s fun.” As if daring was the only thing that could make the night memorable.
As the silly little game began, you couldn’t help but notice the way Seo-yeon scrambled to sit next to Jungkook, her movements almost too eager, too forced. She slid onto the floor beside him, laughing a little too loudly, her hand brushing his casually, but it didn’t escape your notice.
It didn’t help that Jungkook, who had been laughing and talking with the others, now seemed to catch sight of the silence that stretched between you and your friend. His gaze flickered toward you for a split second, brow furrowed slightly. There was concern in his eyes, like he could sense the shift, the distance between you two, the fact that you hadn’t exchanged a word since the heated conversation. And for a moment, you could’ve sworn he looked... worried. It was only a glance, but it sent a ripple of uncertainty through you.
The game kicked off with such chaotic energy that there was immediate regret of your decision to join, Shirts came off, beers chugged, some over-the-clothes fondling. Laughter and teasing echoed around the room, but you couldn’t seem to join in. Your nerves twisted inside you, coiling tighter with every round. Every time your eyes flicked toward Jungkook, your heart skipped, and you could feel your emotions swirling—confusion, desire, hurt—but the fear of being exposed kept you frozen.
Seo-yeon, on the other hand, was all confidence, sitting smugly in her chair with a knowing smile, like she already knew she’d be the center of attention. Like she knew, deep down, you wouldn’t stand a chance.
Then, Jimin’s voice broke through your fog of thoughts, full of mischief and a glint of amusement. "Alright," he said, eyes dancing as he turned toward Seo-yeon and Jungkook. "I dare you two to kiss for five seconds."
You may as well have just shot yourself right in the face. Your breath caught in your throat. Your pulse thundered in your ears as you watched your (ex) best friend’s eyes light up with the thrill of the challenge. It was as if it was too easy for her—too perfect an opportunity to pass up. Without hesitation, she leaned toward Jungkook, her lips finding his almost effortlessly. The room seemed to quiet for a moment, and then it was the silence that felt louder than anything.
But what made your stomach twist wasn’t just the kiss itself—it was the way Seo-yeon’s gaze flicked toward you just before their lips met. A slow, deliberate look that lingered in the air. The seconds stretched, and you could barely breathe, and your heart was feeling as if it might break right then and there.
The kiss was over before you could even process the feeling of it, but the knot in you chest remained, heavy and tight, long after Seo-yeon pulled away. Jungkook glanced over at you, so briefly you almost didn’t catch it.
Your mind raced, but you struggled to push the images from her head, the lingering feeling of Seo-yeon’s smug gaze before the kiss. You took another sip, the burn of it helping to cloud the pain you didn’t want to face. The weight of it sat like a stone in your chest.
Taehyung’s voice cut through your spiraling thoughts. “[Y/N], truth or dare?” he asked, his grin teasing as he leaned towards you.
Jimin shot him a playful glare, almost about to protest, but Taehyung was quick, silencing him with a dramatic “Shh.” The room quieted slightly, all eyes on you as you hesitated for a fraction of a second. You were still reeling, but the alcohol buzz had emboldened you—made you feel more confident than you had all night.
"Dare.” You didn’t know where this sudden boldness was coming from, but you couldn’t back down now.
Taehyung’s grin widened, his eyes gleaming with mischief. “Alright then,” he said, tapping his fingers against his drink. “I dare you to go into the closet with Jungkook for five minutes.”
The room went quiet for a moment. You felt the weight of the dare pressing in on your chest, but you couldn’t bring yourself to look away from Jungkook’s pointed gaze. Was this a joke? Was it real? Seo-yeon was first to break the ice, who snorted in disbelief. “Are we in fifth grade or something?”
Jungkook, who had been sitting quietly, his drink in hand, suddenly took a casual sip. To your surprise, he looked completely unfazed, almost... eager? “Who cares?” he said with a shrug, as if the whole situation was nothing more than a harmless, impulsive decision.
You froze for a moment. You didn’t know whether to laugh, cry or throw up. But there was not much protesting to be done because before you had a chance to speak, Taehyung is up on his feet pushing the two of you in the direction of the musty little closet.
The door clicked shut behind you, and the world outside the closet faded into nothing. Inside, the air was thick with unspoken words, the kind of tension that clung to the walls like the silence between them. You stood frozen, the room suddenly too small, too close. You could feel the heat of his presence even without touching him, the rhythm of his breath matching your own, as if your hearts beat in sync, caught in the same web of uncertainty. The dim light from the party barely reached, leaving you in a space of shadows and soft, anxious breaths.
For what felt like an eternity, neither of you spoke. The awkwardness hummed between you like a steady pulse, the weight of it heavy. You’ve known him forever but… you could feel your nerves twisting tighter and tighter, but the alcohol buzz made it hard to think clearly, each thought slipping away just as quickly as it came.
Jungkook finally broke the silence, a nervous chuckle escaping him, his top teeth playing with his lip ring. "This is… um, definitely not how I expected this to go.”
You tried to force a laugh, but it came out shaky, and you immediately regretted it. “Yeah, not exactly the closet of my dreams,” you said, though your voice trembled in a way you hoped he wouldn’t notice.
And then, just like that, Jungkook’s gaze met yours again, but this time, there was something different in his eyes—something softer, more vulnerable. It was like someone ripped your best friend away from you and replaced with someone who might actually.. never mind. He was pressed into you, your height difference showing as his head tilted down to look at you. His lips parted, like he was debating saying something.
Then, with a surprising gentleness, he spoke. “This is going to be so random but… do you remember our kiss?” he asked, his voice low and almost reverent, as if the question itself carried a weight he wasn’t sure how to handle.
You froze. The memories came rushing back, unbidden—a flash of two twelve-year-olds, awkward and innocent, caught in a moment that now seemed so impossibly far away. The brush of lips, quick and uncertain, a first kiss that neither of you truly understood.
But the way he looked at you now, like the past and present were colliding in that quiet, intimate space, made everything feel much more real. You could feel the heat rise in your cheeks, pulse quickening. He remembers.
“O-Of course I remember,” you whispered, the words tumbling out before you could stop them, your heart fluttering in your chest as the memory of that kiss resurfaced in vivid detail.
Jungkook held your gaze, his eyes dark, searching, as if he, too, was standing on the precipice of something he wasn’t sure he could face. There was a pause, a beat of silence that stretched between, thick with everything unsaid. And then, almost in a breath, he spoke again, his voice softer, but his words filled with an unexpected weight. “My mom brought it up the other day. Didn’t know she watched my kissing virginity get swept away.”
“Oh,” you laugh.
“I’ve thought about it a lot,” he confessed, his gaze never leaving yours. The words hung in the air like a fragile thread.
The confession hit you like a sudden gust of wind, unexpected and sharp. He’s thought about it? Like the way you have, maybe, possibly? Like writing in your diary about him everyday since then? Like dreaming about kissing him again every time you are even remotely close to him?
“So…” he started, breaking the silence, his voice light but with an underlying curiosity. “The last time you kissed someone... was it anything like that?"
There’s those stupid two bunny teeth that poke out in a cheeky smile as he teased you about something that should be so trivial, yet so was not.
Your eyes widened at the sudden question. You didn’t know whether to laugh or squirm. You could feel the warmth creep into your cheeks, and you quickly looked away, focusing on the clutter in the corner of the closet to avoid meeting his gaze.
“I… What?” You stammered, a little too flustered. "What kind of question is that?"
Jungkook chuckled softly, leaning casually against the wall, his eyes never leaving your face. "Well, I’m just curious. You know, if it was anything like the kiss we shared all those years ago," he teased, his voice deliberately casual.
You rolled her eyes, trying to deflect the attention. “It wasn’t like that.”
“I haven’t kissed anyone in forever. In fact…” You trailed off, not knowing how to finish the sentence without sounding ridiculous. “You know that. Last time was that random dude at that party last month.”
Jungkook’s smile returned, but it was gentler now, as if he was trying to make you feel better. “So.. What was the last kiss that actually meant something?” he asked, leaning in just slightly, the playful glint back in his eyes.
You knew damn well you couldn’t answer that without revealing too much. The truth was, there hadn’t been a kiss that meant anything—not since you were 12. But you couldn’t say that to him. Not yet.
“Long, long time,” You teased.
For a moment, you swear there’s a glimmer of hope behind his welcoming eyes.
“Maybe I just haven’t found the right guy,” you said, keeping your voice steady as you try to joke your way out of it.
Jungkook chuckled softly, shaking his head. "Must be hard to find someone who’s good enough to even compare to the 'best kiss ever' from when you were twelve.”
You froze, heart thudding in your chest as you realized what the weight of what he'd said. "Damn, you really remember that kiss, huh?"
Jungkook just smirked, his eyes glimmering. "Of course I do. How could I forget?"
And, there’s something that switches in the air, something that makes you realize you’re not as delusional as you think. You’re thinking back to every single time he’s given you that hope to hold onto, every time he has kept the dream alive. You met his eyes, looked into them, felt like you were peering into his soul.
He stepped a little closer, lowering his voice, a sudden seriousness in his tone. “And now… I kind of wish I could kiss you again. See if it feels the same.”
Either you are incredibly drunk, or he has lost his mind. Your thoughts swirled in a haze of alcohol and overwhelming emotions. You blinked, breath caught in your throat, trying to process the weight of his words. He wanted to kiss you again? You could feel the tension between them now, thick and suffocating, like the very air around them was holding its breath. But what was this? What was happening?
Your voice came out shaky, betraying the fear that had lodged itself in your chest. “Where is this coming from, Jungkook?”
Jungkook’s expression faltered for a brief moment, as if he hadn’t expected you to be so open, so raw. He took a step closer, his gaze softening, searching yours with an intensity that made your knees feel like jell-o. His voice was quieter now, more sincere, as if trying to reassure you, or maybe even himself. “Don’t tell me you haven’t thought about it.. I mean we’ve been best friends for years.”
“I-I, maybe, who cares?” You repeated his words from earlier. “You’re drunk, Kook. We’ve been drinking for hours.”
“I’m not joking,” he said softly, his voice low and full of something you couldn’t quite name. "I wouldn’t joke about something like that."
Your breath hitched as he reached out, his hand gently brushing against yours, as if waiting for you to decide. You could feel the pulse of his touch, and with it, all the years of longing, all the secret emotions you’d kept hidden, pressing down on your chest.
It was almost too much. Too much to process, too much to understand. But the truth was clear now, sitting heavy in the silence between you. You were in love with him. And maybe, just maybe, he felt it too.
Just as the words hung in the air, just as you could’ve sworn that he was about to lean in and finally press his lips against yours, thick with longing and uncertainty, the quiet, intimate space you’d created shattered in an instant. The closet door suddenly flung open with a loud crash, and for a heartbeat, your world spun.
The sudden burst of light flooded the small room, blinding you for a second before you recognized the faces of your friends, all grinning mischievously. Taehyung, ever the troublemaker, leaned against the doorframe with a smug smirk on his face. Jimin, with his usual playful grin, stood next to him, his eyes glinting with amusement. And then there was Seo-yeon, leaning casually against the wall, her lips curled in a knowing smile.
You quickly stepped back, face burning as your eyes flicked between them all, still trying to process what had just happened. Jungkook stood frozen beside you, face flushed as he ran a hand through his hair, clearly embarrassed.
“Well, well,” Taehyung said with a mock pout, raising an eyebrow. “Look at that. The closet was really the place to be, huh?”
“Didn’t take you two long,” Jimin added with a chuckle, crossing his arms over his chest. “I knew this was going to be good.”
You felt the blood rush to your face, and you could barely look at Jungkook. Your heart was still hammering, a mixture of humiliation and confusion swirling in your chest. You opened her mouth to say something—anything—but words caught in your throat.
Jungkook cleared his throat, taking a small step forward. “It’s not like that. We were just talking.”
“Oh, talking, huh?” Taehyung grinned wider, obviously not buying it.
Your head was spinning. The echoes of the teasing, the laughter, and the flirtation were still reverberating in your mind. You could feel the alcohol mixing with the tension that had built up all night, and it was almost too much to handle. Your thoughts were a jumble—your best friend, Jungkook, the kiss that almost happened, everything was falling apart in a whirlwind of emotions.
The game seemed to fizzle out after a few more rounds, yet you were still sat there, hoping to make sense of it all. The clock slowly ticked by, bodies still trickling in and out of the house despite how late it was. And you probably should’ve made an effort to take to Jungkook, to fight for him, to stand up on your words to Seo-yeon.
And so there you stood, attached to the wall yet again.
Except this time, Jungkook was peeling you off of it. He had enough juice at this point to know better, to care less if he made a fool of himself.
He made his way toward you, his expression tight with something unreadable. “Can we talk?” he asked urgently. You opened her mouth to protest, but before you could say anything, he was already guiding you through the crowd, clutching your hand in his.
As you walked up the stairs, you looked down at the people left over from the night, and you caught a second of a glance from Seo-yeon. Maybe, just maybe, you were going to win this once and for all.
The loud music and chatter from downstairs faded as you made your way up to the quiet of the second floor. When you reached an empty bedroom, he closed the door behind you softly. You both stood there for a moment, a beat of silence hanging between you, thick with anticipation. You twiddled with your thumbs, setting your cup down.
Jungkook turned to face you, his expression full of something you couldn’t quite place—nervousness, uncertainty, and longing. He took a step forward, his breath shaky. "[Y/N].. Am I crazy?”
“What do you mean?” You gulped, pressing your back into the nearby bedside table.
“Is there something here I’m missing with us, are we good? Like, I haven’t spoken to you all night, Seo-yeon is shoving herself down my throat, and you know I hate her. And then… that stupid fucking closet has my head spinning. So, talk to me.”
You couldn’t believe this was happening—couldn’t believe he was saying this out loud.
Without thinking, you whispered, almost inaudibly, "You don’t know?"
Jungkook’s brow furrowed, and he took another small step closer, “What?”
Your heart pounded harder now, hands trembling slightly at your sides. You took a breath, then let it out slowly. Your voice was barely a whisper, but the words felt like they had been stuck in your throat for years. “You had to have known I’ve been in love with you.”
There it was. Out in the open, hanging, lingering. The words dissipated into the air. You started to wonder what magic potion was in this drink that had you ending many friendship tonight.
Jungkook froze, his eyes widening. He stared at you for a long moment, disbelief flooding his features. “I didn’t… I didn’t know. If I had known...”
“If I knew…” he began again, his voice strained, almost as if he were fighting to keep his composure. His gaze never wavered from yours, a storm of emotions swirling behind his eyes.
“I would have...” He swallowed hard, stepping closer to you until he was only inches away, his breath warm against your skin. “... I would have kissed you. A long time ago.”
You felt your chest tighten, the intensity of his gaze locking you in place. You could feel the electric pull between you, every inch of your body screaming to close the distance. But you didn’t move. Neither of you did. The air was thick, heavy with everything you hadn’t said, with everything that had been building between you, allegedly, for years.
Jungkook’s hand twitched at his side, as if he were fighting himself, unsure of whether to make the move or not. His gaze flickered between your lips and your eyes, a tortured look on his face. “Was it not obvious when I let you kiss me when we were 12?” he whispered, almost as if the words had slipped out before he could stop them.
Everything inside you screamed for him to close the distance, for him to finally kiss you when you were older. But the fear, the uncertainty, still lingered. “Jungkook...” you whispered, voice trembling.
Somehow, he always knew just what you wanted to say.
“I know,” he said softly, his face just inches from yours now. "I know."
“It wasn’t obvious, you know,” You began. The fire from earlier that raged when you snapped on Seo-yeon began to reignite, to push itself to the forefront and grow as bright and red as could be. How could he expect you to know? He had dated so many girls, so many people that weren’t you, that you had just started to normalize the fade you did into the background. It was insulting for him to think otherwise. “You dated like 10 girls after that kiss when we were younger.”
“You dated someone too,” He pointed out. True, but.. you only did it because he did. Which is surprising to no one.
“Yeah, but I was always there. I was always by your side, every breakup, every tear shed, hoping and praying you’d finally pick me. But there’s not a good way to say, hey I know we’ve been best friends for years but I’m in love with you. I didn’t, I don’t want to lose you,” You wanted to break his eye contact, look away and start crying into your shirt. But you didn’t. You held your ground.
His face softened, another cautious step taken towards you. “You’re not going to lose me.”
He’s so close now you can feel the nerves, the heat radiating off his body. You can smell that stupid cologne he got last Christmas from his parents. You can see his silver chain glisten under the light bedroom lamp. “Well, if you don’t feel the exact same, then yeah, I will lose you. And for the record, Seo-yeon knows I’ve been in love with you. God, she is such a little bitch. You know I finally ended it with her tonight. She’s insane. But whatever, my point is that if you’re not also in love with me, I’m done, I’m going to move to the US and become a monk. This is humiliating-“
You nor him got to hear the ending of that sentence, because before you know it, his warm hands are cupping your cheeks and pulling you into him, and he’s kissing you. It feels like this: you’re 12 again, under that white oak tree on the playground, your mothers watching a few feet away with a knowing smile on their face. Your heart quickens up its pace, tries to catch up to what is happening. But there’s no use. You’re a goner.
The moment Jungkook’s lips met yours, the world seemed to fall away. There was no party inside, no city stretching beyond the university—just him. Just this.
His kiss was slow at first, testing, as if savoring the feeling of finally closing the space that had been pulling you together for so long. His fingers, warm against your cool skin, tilted your face up to him, deepening the kiss in a way that made your breath catch.
You responded instinctively, pressing closer, your hands gripping the fabric of his shirt like an anchor. The tension, the longing that had built between you for months—maybe even years—unraveled all at once, spilling into the way he kissed you, like he had been holding back for too long.
You had always wondered what it would be like to kiss him when you were older (especially after he got that stupid little lip ring that had you using your vibrator more often than you liked to admit.)
Jungkook exhaled against your lips, his hand sliding from your jaw to the nape of your neck, fingers threading into your hair. His other hand found your waist, pulling you flush against him. The heat of his body, the steady rhythm of his breathing, the way his thumb brushed circles against your skin—it all left you dizzy.
Your heartbeat pounded in your ears, each passing second making it harder to think, to focus on anything but the way his lips moved against yours. He tasted faintly of liquor, of something intoxicating yet familiar, something that made you want to drown in him completely.
“I shouldn’t have waited this long," he murmured, his voice rough, almost regretful. “It’s better than it was when we were 12.”
You let out a breathy laugh, your hands still fisting his shirt. "Then don’t wait anymore."
A slow smile tugged at the corner of his lips before he leaned in again, this time softer, slower, as if committing every second to memory. His lips brushed yours once, twice—just enough to make your knees weak—before he kissed you fully again. His tongue poked through, and a soft whimper left your mouth at the contact.
Jungkook’s second kiss was different—deeper, more certain. The hesitation that had lingered before was gone, replaced by something more urgent, more consuming. His fingers tightened at your waist as he pulled you closer, his lips parting against yours, letting the kiss deepen in a way that sent a shiver down your spine.
You met him eagerly, your hands sliding up his chest, fingers tangling in the collar of his shirt. He groaned softly against your mouth, a sound that sent warmth pooling in your stomach. His tongue brushed against yours, slow at first, coaxing, teasing, before he pressed in more insistently, his hand cradling your jaw as if he couldn’t bear to let go, moving down to wrap a gentle hand around your neck.
Your breath hitched as his grip on you tightened, his body pressing against yours as he held you firm to the bedside table.
"Tell me to stop," he murmured against your lips, but his hands never left your body, his fingers skimming the curve of your waist, the warmth of his palms making your skin tingle.
You shook your head, breathless. "I don’t want you to."
That was all he needed.
In one swift motion, his hands slid to your thighs, lifting you with ease. A surprised gasp left your lips, but you instinctively wrapped your legs around his waist, clinging to him as he carried you across the room. His lips never left yours, each kiss deeper, more desperate, as if making up for lost time.
He reached the edge of the bed, lowering you onto the plush mattress without breaking contact. His body hovered over yours, propped up on his forearms, his dark eyes searching yours as he caught his breath.
"You have no idea how long I’ve wanted this," he admitted, his voice husky, edged with impatience.
You let out a soft laugh, running your fingers through his hair, your own breath coming just as fast. "Then why did we wait?"
Jungkook exhaled sharply, shaking his head. "Because I knew, once I had you like this… I wouldn’t be able to stop thinking about it."
His words sent a thrill through you, but before you could respond, he kissed you again—slower this time, savoring every second. His hands traced gentle patterns against your skin, grounding you, making you feel every ounce of emotion behind his touch.
His fingers moved deftly, swiftly, but there’s a bit of anxiety behind his touch. He kissed down your neck, slowly, agonizingly, to your collarbone… pushing aside your shirt to your shoulder. His knee dug into your thigh, and felt fuzzy from how much he was touching you, everywhere. You let out small whimpers, eager for him to continue, to know what it feels like to be one of his girls.
He looked up at you, eyes dark with something you don’t recognize from him. If he wasn’t your best friend, you would’ve been scared. His fingers ghosted down your chest, to your stomach, playing with the hem of your shirt, almost asking for permission. He doesn’t have to, because you’re propping yourself up and taking it off for him, just leaving your bra out on display. He pauses, takes a moment for himself, realizes he isn’t in a dream when he reaches out and touches one of your tits. It’s like he’s a prepubescent little boy again who has never seen these before.
“God, you’re perfect,” He mumbled, voice shaky, feeling you through your bra. He moved the bra aside a little, sees the hard nipple poking through and removes your entire bra, one hand. He peeled off his shirt, revealing his toned abdomen underneath and that tattoo sleeve he started working on two years ago.
You don’t know when you became such a withering mess underneath his touch but you’re glued down to the bed, imprinted on the mattress. Jimin will have to come peel you off tomorrow morning. “Touch me again,” you whispered out, low enough for him to hear and for his cock to twitch in his pants.
He looked back up at you, taking his attention away from your chest. There was a shift, a change of massive proportions in the air. You know he’s experienced. Everyone knows it. He’s had countless girlfriends, hookups with other friends… you’ve heard the rumors spread like wildfire.
When he speaks, his voice sounds almost pensive. “Has anybody ever made you cum?”
The sound you make is much too close to a whimper for your own comfort. Involuntarily, you feel a flutter down there, and you realize faintly just how wet you really are, all of some stupid kisses.
You don’t need to look at him to know that he’s noticed your reaction.
“I- uh,” You’re utterly and totally speechless. The answer is no. None of your boyfriends ever figured it out truly. It’s not like they were studs in the bedroom. So, you would fake it, kiss them goodnight, and go finger yourself in the bathroom to get off. You somehow have a very strong intuition you won’t need to do that with Jungkook. “No, not really.”
His gaze becomes darker, pauses and thinks of his next move. He pushed you back onto the mattress, making room for himself to painstakingly slow move in between your legs. Jungkook lifts your skirt up, revealing your lacy pink panties that have a wet spot engrained right in the middle. “Fucking hell, you’re soaked,” he whispers, mostly to himself.
He looked back up at you. “Do you want me to make you cum?”
He can’t be serious. The blood rushed from your face down to your toes.
“P-please,” You whimpered, tugging your bottom lip underneath your top lip. “Please, Kook.”
“I can’t believe no one’s ever appreciated this pussy,” You can’t tell if he’s speaking mostly to himself as he took off your skirt fully, letting it fall on the floor with a soft thump. “You are so beautiful, [Y/N]. I’ve been dreaming about this for months, years.”
You just nod in response, since that’s all you can muster as he drags the pink underwear off your thighs, down your ankles, off your being. You want him to make you come, want him to be the reason you feel immense pleasure.
He’s still babbling to himself, something about how he’s going to wreck you tonight and all that, and then you feel his tongue flatten out on you, making a circular motion on your clit. Your pornographic moan could probably be heard across the entire campus. Your whole body jolts alive, eyes squeezed so, so tight as he worked his tongue repeatedly over your clit, lapping up every ounce of your wetness he can.
Your hand reaches out to grasp at something, anything, clutching his hair and holding his head as his tongue rolls around in between your clit and your entrance. His nose bumped against your clit as your hips began to rock up and down, your body aching for more, anything he could provide you would take it.
“Jungkook,” You breathed out, followed by a string of profanities and moans. He seemed to be pleased by your reaction, his arms wrapping around your thighs and pulling your legs around his head, practically suffocating himself with you.
“F-fuck, how are y-you so good at this?” Your back arched off the mattresss, vision blurry as he continued his assault on your clit. He was so lost in it, so deep in it, he could barely respond.
He pulled away for a second, looking up at you with his big eyes, lips glossy and covered in your slick. You watched as he gathered some saliva in his mouth, spitting it onto your clit and letting his fingers rub your bundle of nerves. “Oh my god,” That elicited another expressive string of words, your chest heaving as you teetered closer and closer to that edge.
You still couldn’t believe this was happening; your best friend of over a decade, eating you out like you were a five-course meal.
He enveloped his lips around your delicate bud and pulled, and you can hardly contain yourself, fingers darting to his locks, the sheets, your abdomen. You can't sit still, can't halt the convulsions, losing all sense of self over your own body. Every which way, on him and off him, thoughts in turmoil and emotions in chaos and sensations askew, and you can't fathom how nobody's ever subjected you to this before, and how have you managed to live without the sensation of Jungkook's lips on your pussy.
His fingers replaced his mouth again, this time, splitting you open with two fingers that glide right in with how overly soaked you are. “Gonna make you cum so good, princess,” He said. “Gonna make you forget any of those lames before me.”
He has to realize that won’t take much convincing. You’ve already forgotten what any other man looks like.
As his lips reconnected with your burning core, all inhibitions vanish. He darted his tongue in and out, in and out, in and… your eyes rolling back in ecstasy, your legs straining to offer him greater access, even to the point of discomfort when your muscles protest, but you crave him closer, deeper, harder, and you're drowning in longing, aching with it. The only anchors keeping you grounded are his hands, the one hand that has wandered from your clit to fondle your tit, the other that is now relentlessly pumping in and out of you.
He's cautious, nearly tender, but it's futile, you're soaked, allowing him continuous entry of his fingers without any struggle, devoid of any tension in your muscles. You're incapable of tightening up even if you wanted to.
“I-I, fuck, Kook, I’m gonna cum,” You whined out in a tone that was half begging, half delirium. You weren’t even sure your body was in control of itself anymore, you just wriggled and thrashed around as he worked you to finish.
“Yeah?” He said against your clit, his breath fanning against you. His fingers continued to pump in and out of you, his other hand rubbing incessantly circles on your clit. It was all too much, far, far, too much. “Fuck, I want you to cum for me. Want to taste you, taste what I’ve been missing all these years.”
It engulfed you completely, resonating within your core, your toes, and your fingertips. It propels you off the bed, leaning forward, fingers clutching his hair, legs quivering uncontrollably, screaming his name over and over like a prayer.
It seemed to go on for hours, his fingers penetrating you through it, his tongue caressing you through it, and all thoughts dissipate under the onslaught of that blinding, electrifying pleasure.
Jungkook persisted, relentless, until you thrusted his head away with vigor, overwhelmed by the sensation to the point of pain erupting like tiny needles. You have absolutely no idea how any girl ever let him get away, but you make a mental note that he will never leave your sight. He leaned over you, hovering over your shaking body.
His head bowed down, pressing a kiss on your lips, and you taste yourself for the first time. It’s a mix of him and you, salty and sweet and warm and dirty. You want it, again and again and again..
But you want him to feel good too. Want to do right by him, make him yours officially, have him scream out your name. You pulled away from his kiss, wiggling yourself out from under him. With a surprising amount of strength you mustered, you flipped the two of you; you’re straddling him, thighs locked on either side of his toned abs. His eyebrows raised, lips still slick and swollen with your juices and saliva and you’re pretty certain you’ll have a stroke if you keep looking at him.
You’re still dripping onto his bare chest, abs now covered in you as well. Probably the second hottest thing you’ve seen so far. You leaned down, kissing him, fighting for some sort of reprieve. You kissed down his jaw, his neck, and his little whimpers send you to a different planet.
He’s just so vocal, and now you can’t get enough.
“Let me ride you,” You said.
He blinked. Was he hearing that right?
“Please,” You pleaded. “I just… I want to make you feel good, Kookie. Like you did for me. Wanna make you happy.”
He smirked, rubbing his warm hands against your thighs, “I’m already happy just like this.” And he’s right, his cock is rock-hard and honestly, he hasn’t ever been like this before with any of his past girls. It’s because it’s you, the girl he called his best friend who used to be the quiet, shy one, is asking him to let her ride his cock.
“Pleaseeee..” You moaned, shuffling your body downwards so your clit was directly above his Calvin Klein boxers, grinding on him slowly like this was a middle school party. You didn’t even know when he had taken off his jeans from earlier, you assumed it was during the time his face was buried in your cunt.
He played around with his lip ring, his nervous tic. “Fuck, yeah, baby just go for it. Show me how you ride your best friend.”
You pulled back to finally get rid of his boxers, to finally see what’s underneath, if the rumors rang rang true. You looked down at his cock, splayed across his lower abdomen, open your mouth to speak and… pause.
“Jungkook,” you began, eyes widened, half horror and half excitement, “I-you’re so… big.”
And the moment you’ve said the words, you regret them. His ego was about to inflate to the size of Jimin’s entire house. He looked up at you through hooded eyes, licking his lips, “Yeah? You gonna take it, baby?”
The pet name made you shudder. “I-I can try,” You stuttered. “I’ve never been with someone this big before.”
He chuckled, his hands coming around to rest on your hips, rubbing circles with the pads of his thumb. You knew damn well he knew how many guys you’ve been with, how many people you’ve fucked, but never their dick size. Didn’t really come up. But, this… well, this was going to be a challenge.
“It’s okay, baby,” He coaxed, “How about you be a good girl for me and start off slow?”
You wanted to be his good girl more than anything in the entire world in that moment.
You can’t even answer, can’t do anything, because he began to align his cock to your sopping entrance, pushing inside of you. It’s excruciating, it’s slow it’s almost impossible to understand how he’s splitting you in half. Jungkook’s head fell back on the mattress, face scrunched up in pleasure, jaw hanging open.
The slide felt almost endless, like you would never reach the hilt of his cock. There’s an endless cycle of Jungkook’s voice spilling endless praise for you taking him so well, that he’s almost all inside, that you already look so full, that he’s never letting you go.
And then finally, when you’re about to tap out and let him get on top, you feel your clit pressed his pubic bone and your body has never felt so entirely filled.
You both let out a simultaneous moan that you’re certain everyone downstairs heard and is getting ready to come upstairs and bang pots and pans at the door.
“I…” Your body gave out a little, and you lean backwards on your palms, giving him a better view of how irresistible you look with his cock so deep inside of you.
“Fuck, baby.” His hand traveled to your clit, rubbing circles, “So damn tight, huh? No one’s fucked you like this in a while.”
All you can do is nod.
The sounds are obscene. His cock plunging into your wetness with each bounce of your knees, the headboard slamming against the walls, your own whimpers, Jungkook’s groans. You know they can hear you. And you don’t care. Not one bit. In fact, you want it.
You fell forward a little, gripped onto his chest and dug your fingernails into him. You can’t even think, breathe, can’t remember the last time something has ever felt this ethereal. Your head lulled backwards, fingernails so deep in his skin you’re leaving bruises. Jungkook gripped onto your hips, pads of his thumbs imprinting themselves on your skin. You’re certain he must be pussy drunk or something, because the only things leaving his mouth are blabbers, “… fuck, you are so tight and wet.. fucking beautiful, my best girl so good, need you so bad, always..”
Your hips continued to undulate wildly, and you don’t even know where the confidence is coming from but you felt like some fucking goddess riding this man into oblivion. And you recognized it, he’s so close, his face is contorted, chest heaving, eyes squeezed so tight, committing the feeling of you riding him to memory..
And you never get to see that orgasm (yet) because you hear the door swing open. Jungkook sat up, eyes widened, looking between you and your intruder. But you’re too in deep, too into it to stop, too close, too needy… who gives a fuck if Taehyung or even Jimin sees?
He looked back at you, face flushed with an expression you can’t recognize. You tossed your head back, and you understand why he looks like that. You caught a sight of Seo-yeon’s black hair, and when you turned your body, you saw her figure standing there in the doorway, watching, observing, a tiny (and you have to look hard) smirk on her face.
“Are you going t-to get the fuck out or what?” Jungkook tried to sound tough, but he’s coming undone closer and closer by the second.
And you don’t know what it is, maybe it’s the fact you’re fucking your best friend, maybe it’s the fact you’re still a little drunk off the punch, maybe you’re just a different person than 3 hours ago, but you turned back to Jungkook and go, “Let her stay and watch. Let her see how good I fuck you. Let her know you’re fucking mine.”
You can’t see it, but she blinks at the doorway, jaw unhinged and a gulp of saliva slithering like molasses down her throat. “Fuck, baby, you’re going to make me cum,” Jungkook whined out.
“Yeah, you want to cum?” You leaned back, giving him full access to your pussy and the way his cock is coated with your juices, dripping onto his abdomen, making a mess everywhere. “Tell her you’re mine. Now.”
You don’t even know if she’s still there, you just want him to say it. Even if it’s just for you.
But, he looked back at her, looks back at her petite frame in the doorway, then back at you. “I’m yours. I’m fucking yours, baby. Forever.”
“Good boy,” You leaned your body back into him, press a kiss into his sweaty cheek. You then turn back around to handle her, and it almost makes you want to laugh how she’s now frozen to the wall like you once were. “Now, close the fucking door behind you while I finish him off.”
The door slammed behind her, but you barely noticed or cared. He’s an absolute wreck, singing praises to you and you’re all yeah yeah yeah please please please I’m so close, and he came undone so fiercely he’s struggling to keep it together, to not collapse. He coated your walls, and you clenched around him as you barreled through what might be the most insane orgasm of your life.
There’s a moment where black washed over your vision, jaw ripping open trying to scream his name, or anything remotely in the dictionary, and you’re just putty on top of him as your body shakes and convulses trying to come down.
You fell into him, on top of him rather, hearts struggling to get back to its normal rhythm. He doesn’t want to move, can’t imagine going anywhere in that moment. You finally moved over to his side, nestling into him and you’re certain there’ll be a mold of your body on him tomorrow. He wrapped his arm around you, tugging in as close as he possibly could.
For a while, you just lay there like that. You welcomed the silence, no longer letting it scare you.
“You know, your mom and my mom were plotting on us.”
He’s the first to break through your thoughts. You giggled, tracing circles on his chest, listening to his heart thump thump thump against his ribcage. “I’ve always loved you. I know that. Well, ever since you gave me that Spider Man plushie when we were 11.”
You can’t deny the shit-eating grin that appeared in your face. You weren’t about to tell him you fell into love with him before that, probably when he gave you a Hello Kitty bandaid for one of your ouchies. “Is that so?” You teased.
Into your hair, Jungkook whispered, “Always been mine.”
There’s a wave of something that crashes over you, something you feel deep within you. He’s mine, you thought to yourself. And it makes you blink tears away because of it.
You laid there, peacefully, silently, in absolutely bliss…
“Ugh, Jungkook! Right there! So fucking good!”
“[Y/N], keep going! Your pussy feels so good! Ahhhh!”
“Jimin! Taehyung!” Jungkook roared, reaching up one arm for the pillow on the bed and flinging it at the wooden door, other arm still wrapped loosely around your shoulders.
“Hey, man! You can’t get mad at me! You just had sex in my fucking bed. You’re doing my laundry for six months!” Jimin’s voice cracked at the realization of you two… in his bed… with god knows what juices splattered. He shuddered even imagining it.
“He’s got a point,” Jungkook sighed, running his hand over his face.
You laughed a little, then he did too, and you felt the vibration against your body. There was only him, only now. And as Jungkook pulled you closer, tucking you into the warmth of his arms, you realized it was supposed to be this easy. You pulled yourself off the wall. And for the first time, it didn’t feel scary. It felt like you belonged.
。・:*:・゚★,。・:*:・゚☆
masterlist + request
#jungkook smut#jungkook#jeon jungkook#bts#bts jungkook#bts smut#bts x reader#jungkook x reader#jungkook fic
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(Read on our blog)
Beginning in 1933, the Nazis burned books to erase the ideas they feared—works of literature, politics, philosophy, criticism; works by Jewish and leftist authors, and research from the Institute for Sexual Science, which documented and affirmed queer and trans identities.

(Nazis collect "anti-German" books to be destroyed at a Berlin book-burning on May 10, 1933 (Source)
Stories tell truths.
These weren’t just books; they were lifelines.
Writing by, for, and about marginalized people isn’t just about representation, but survival. Writing has always been an incredibly powerful tool—perhaps the most resilient form of resistance, as fascism seeks to disconnect people from knowledge, empathy, history, and finally each other. Empathy is one of the most valuable resources we have, and in the darkest times writers armed with nothing but words have exposed injustice, changed culture, and kept their communities connected.

(A Nazi student and a member of the SA raid the Institute for Sexual Science's library in Berlin, May 6, 1933. Source)
Less than two weeks after the US presidential inauguration, the nightmare of Project 2025 is starting to unfold. What these proposals will mean for creative freedom and freedom of expression is uncertain, but the intent is clear. A chilling effect on subjects that writers engage with every day—queer narratives, racial justice, and critiques of power—is already manifest. The places where these works are published and shared may soon face increased pressure, censorship, and legal jeopardy.
And with speed-run fascism comes a rising tide of misinformation and hostility. The tech giants that facilitate writing, sharing, publishing, and communication—Google, Microsoft, Amazon, the-hellscape-formerly-known-as-Twitter, Facebook, TikTok—have folded like paper in a light breeze. OpenAI, embroiled in lawsuits for training its models on stolen works, is now positioned as the AI of choice for the administration, bolstered by a $500 billion investment. And privacy-focused companies are showing a newfound willingness to align with a polarizing administration, chilling news for writers who rely on digital privacy to protect their work and sources; even their personal safety.
Where does that leave writers?
Writing communities have always been a creative refuge, but they’re more than that now—they are a means of continuity. The information landscape is shifting rapidly, so staying informed on legal and political developments will be essential for protecting creative freedom and pushing back against censorship wherever possible. Direct your energy to the communities that need it, stay connected, check in on each other—and keep backup spaces in case platforms become unsafe.
We can’t stress this enough—support tools and platforms that prioritize creative freedom. The systems we rely on are being rewritten in real time, and the future of writing spaces depends on what we build now. We at Ellipsus will continue working to provide space for our community—one that protects and facilitates creative expression, not undermines it.
Above all—keep writing.
Keep imagining, keep documenting, keep sharing—keep connecting. Suppression thrives on silence, but words have survived every attempt at erasure.

- The Ellipsus team
#writeblr#writers on tumblr#writing#fiction#fanfic#fanfiction#us politics#american politics#lgbtq community#lgbtq rights#trans rights#freedom of expression#writers
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Happy Public Domain Day 2025 to all who celebrate

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:
https://pluralistic.net/2024/12/17/dastar-dly-deeds/#roast-in-piss-sonny-bono
In 1976, Congress set fire to the country's libraries; in 1998, they did it again. Today, in 2024, the flames have died down, and out of the ashes a new public domain is growing. Happy Public Domain Day 2025 to all who celebrate!
For most of US history, copyright was something you had to ask for. To copyright a work, you'd send a copy to the Library of Congress and they'd issue you a copyright. Not only did that let you display a copyright mark on your work – so people would know they weren't allowed to copy it without your permission – but if anyone wanted to figure out who to ask in order to get permission to copy or adapt a work, they could just go look up the paperwork at the LoC.
In 1976, Congress amended the Copyright Act to eliminate the "formality" of copyright registration. Now, all creative works of human authorship were copyrighted "at the moment of fixation" – the instant you drew, typed, wrote, filmed, or recorded them. From a toddler's nursery-school finger-painting to a graffiti mural on a subway car, every creative act suddenly became an article of property.
But whose property? That was on you to figure out, before you could copy, publish, perform, or preserve the work, because without registration, permissions had to start with a scavenger hunt for the person who could grant it. Congress simultaneously enacted a massive expansion of property rights, while abolishing the title registry that spelled out who owned what. As though this wasn't enough, Congress reached back in time and plopped an extra 20 years' onto the copyrights of existing works, even ones whose authors were unknown and unlocatable.
For the next 20 years, creative workers, archivists, educators and fans struggled in the face of this regime of unknowable property rights. After decades of well-documented problems, Congress acted again: they made it worse.
In 1998, Congress passed the Sonny Bono Copyright Act, AKA the Mickey Mouse Preservation Act, AKA the Copyright Term Extension Act. The 1998 Act tacked another 20 years onto copyright terms, but not just for works that were still in copyright. At the insistence of Disney, Congress actually yanked works out of the public domain – works that had been anthologized, adapted and re-issued – and put them back into copyright for two more decades. Copyright stretched to the century-plus "life plus 70 years" term. Nothing entered the public domain for the next 20 years.
So many of my comrades in the fight for the public domain were certain that this would happen again in 2018. In 2010, e-book inventor and Project Gutenberg founder Michael S Hart and I got into a friendly email argument because he was positive that in 2018, Congress would set fire to the public domain again. When I insisted that there was no way this could happen given the public bitterness over the 1998 Act, he told me I was being naive, but said he hoped that I was right.
Michael didn't live to see it, but in 2019, the public domain opened again. It was an incredible day:
https://archive.org/details/ClosingKeynoteForGrandReopeningOfThePublicDomainCoryDoctorowAtInternetArchive
No one has done a better job of chronicling the fortunes of our fragile, beautiful, bounteous public domain than Jennifer Jenkins and James Boyle of Duke University's Center for the Study of the Public Domain. Every year from 2010-2019, Boyle and Jenkins chronicled the works that weren't entering the public domain because of the 1998 Act, making sure we knew what had been stolen from our cultural commons. In so many cases, these works disappeared before their copyrights expired, for example, the majority of silent films are lost forever.
Then, in 2019, Jenkins and Boyle got to start cataloging the works that were entering the public domain, most of them from 1923 (copyright is complicated, so not everything that entered the public domain in 2019 was from that year):
https://web.law.duke.edu/cspd/publicdomainday/2019/
Every year since, they've celebrated a new bumper crop. Last year, we got Mickey Mouse!
https://pluralistic.net/2023/12/15/mouse-liberation-front/#free-mickey
In addition to numerous other works – by Woolf, Hemingway, Doyle, Christie, Proust, Hesse, Milne, DuBois, Frost, Chaplin, Escher, and more:
https://pluralistic.net/2023/12/20/em-oh-you-ess-ee/#sexytimes
Now, 2024 was a fantastic year for the public domain, but – as you'll see in the 2025 edition of the Public Domain Day post – 2025 is even better:
https://web.law.duke.edu/cspd/publicdomainday/2025/
So what's entering the public domain this year? Well, for one thing, there's more of the stuff from last year, which makes sense: if Hemingway's first books entered the PD last year, then this year, we'll the books he wrote next (and this will continue every year until we catch up with Hemingway's tragic death).
There are some big hits from our returning champions, like Woolf's To the Lighthouse and A Farewell to Arms from Hemingway. Jenkins and Boyle call particular attention to one book: Faulkner's The Sound and the Fury, its title taken from a public domain work by Shakespeare. As they write, Faulkner spoke eloquently about the nature of posterity and culture:
[Humanity] is immortal, not because he alone among creatures has an inexhaustible voice, but because he has a soul, a spirit capable of compassion and sacrifice and endurance…The poet’s voice need not merely be the record of man, it can be one of the props, the pillars to help him endure and prevail.
The main attraction on last year's Public Domain Day was the entry of Steamboat Willie – the first Mickey Mouse cartoon – into the public domain. This year, we're getting a dozen new Mickey cartoons, including the first Mickey talkie:
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mickey_Mouse_(film_series)#1929
Those 12 shorts represent a kind of creative explosion for the Disney Studios. Those early Mickey cartoons were, each and every one, a hybrid of new copyrighted works and the public domain. The backbone of each Mickey short was a beloved, public domain song, with Mickey's motion synched to the beat (animators came to call this "mickey mousing"). In 1929, there was a huge crop of public domain music that anyone could use this way:
Blue Danube, Pop Goes the Weasel, Yankee Doodle, Here We Go Round the Mulberry Bush, Ach Du Lieber Augustin, Listen to the Mocking Bird, A-Hunting We Will Go, Dixie, The Girl I Left Behind Me, a tune known as the snake charmer song, Coming Thru the Rye, Mary Had a Little Lamb, Auld Lang Syne, Aloha ‘Oe, Turkey in the Straw, My Bonnie Lies Over the Ocean, Habanera and Toreador Song from Carmen, Lizst’s Hungarian Rhapsody No. 2, and Goodnight, Ladies.
These were recent compositions, songs that were written and popularized in the lifetimes of the parents and grandparents who took their kids to the movies to see Mickey shorts like "The Barn Dance," "The Opry House" and "The Jazz Fool." The ability to plunder this music at will was key to the success of Mickey Mouse and Disney. Think of all the Mickeys and Disneys we've lost by locking up the public domain for the past half-century!
This year, we're getting some outstanding new old music for our public domain. The complexities of copyright terms mean that compositions from 1929 are entering the public domain, but we're only getting recordings from 1924. 1924's outstanding recordings include:
George Gershwin performing Rhapsody in Blue, Jelly Roll Morton playing Shreveport Stomp, and an early recording from contralto and civil rights icon Marian Anderson, who is famous for her 1939 performance to an integrated audience of over 75,000 people at the Lincoln Memorial. Anderson’s 1924 recording is of the spiritual Nobody Knows the Trouble I’ve Seen.
While the compositions include Singin' in the Rain, Ain't Misbehavin', An American in Paris, Bolero, (What Did I Do to Be So) Black and Blue, Tiptoe Through the Tulips, Happy Days Are Here Again, What Is This Thing Called, Love?, Am I Blue? and many, many more.
On the art front, we're getting Salvador Dali's earliest surrealist masterpieces, like Illumined Pleasures, The Accommodations of Desire, and The Great Masturbator. Dali's contemporaries are not so lucky: after a century, the early history of the works of Magritte are so muddy that it's impossible to say whether they are in or out of copyright.
But there's plenty of art with clearer provenance that we can welcome into the public domain this year, most notably, Popeye and Tintin. As the first Popeye and Tintin comics go PD, so too do those characters.
The idea that a fictional character can have a copyright separate from the stories they appear in is relatively new, and it's weird and very stupid. Courts have found that the Batmobile is a copyrightable character (Batman won't enter the public domain until 2035).
Copyright for characters is such a muddy, gross, weird idea. The clearest example of how stupid this gets comes from Sherlock Holmes, whose canon spans many years. The Doyle estate – a rent-seeking copyright troll – claimed that Holmes wouldn't enter the public domain until every Holmes story was in the public domain (that's this year, incidentally!).
This didn't fly, so their next gambit was to claim copyright over those aspects of Holmes's character that were developed later in the stories. For example, they claimed that Holmes didn't show compassion until the later stories, and, on that basis, sued the creators of the Enola Holmes TV show for depicting a gender-swapped Sherlock who wasn't a total dick:
https://www.theguardian.com/books/2020/dec/22/lawsuit-copyright-warmer-sherlock-holmes-dismissed-enola-holmes
As the Enola lawyers pointed out in their briefs, this was tantamount to a copyright over emotions: "Copyright law does not allow the ownership of generic concepts like warmth, kindness, empathy, or respect, even as expressed by a public domain character – which, of course, belongs to the public, not plaintiff."
When Mickey entered the public domain last year, Jenkins did an excellent deep dive into which aspects of Mickey's character and design emerged when:
https://web.law.duke.edu/cspd/mickey/
Jenkins uses this year's entry of Tintin and Popeye into the public domain to further explore the subject of proprietary characters.
Even though copyright extends to characters, it only covers the "copyrightable" parts of those characters. As the Enola lawyers wrote, the generic character traits (their age, emotional vibe, etc) are not protected. Neither is anything "trivial" or "minuscule" – for example, if a cartoonist makes a minor alteration to the way a character's pupils or eyes are drawn, that's a minor detail, not a copyrightable element.
The biggest impediment to using public domain characters isn't copyright, it's trademark. Trademark is very different from copyright: foundationally, trademark is the right to protect your customers from being deceived by your competitors. Coke can use trademark to stop Pepsi from selling its sugary drinks in Coke cans – not because it owns the word "Coke" or the Coke logo, but because it has been deputized to protect Coke drinkers from being tricked into buying not-Coke, thinking that they're getting the true Black Waters of American Imperialism.
Companies claim trademarks over cartoon characters all the time, and license those trademarks on food, clothing, toys, and more (remember Popeye candy cigarettes?).
Indeed, Hearst Holdings claims a trademark over Popeye in many traditional categories, like cartoons, amusement parks, ads and clothes. They're also in the midst of applying for a Popeye NFT trademark (lol).
Does that mean you can't use Popeye in any of those ways? Nope! All you need to do is prominently mention that your use of Popeye is unofficial, not associated with Hearst, and dispel any chance of confusion. A unanimous Supreme Court decision (in Dastar) affirm your right to do so. You can also use Popeye in the title of your unauthorized Popeye comic, thanks to a case called Rogers v Grimaldi.
This all applies to Tintin, too – a big deal, given that Tintin is managed by a notorious copyright bully who delights in cruelly terrorizing fan artists. Tintin is joined in the public domain by Buck Rogers, another old-timey character whose owners are scumbag rent-seekers.
Congress buried the public domain alive in 1976, and dumped a load of gravel over its grave in 1998, but miraculously, we've managed to exhume the PD, and it has been revived and is showing signs of rude health.
2024 saw the blockbuster film adaptation of Wicked, based on the public domain Oz books. It also saw the publication of James, a celebrated retelling of Twain's Huck Finn from the perspective of Huck's enslaved sidekick.
This is completely normal. It's how art was made since time immemorial. The 40 year experiment in life without a public domain is at an end, and not a minute too soon.
You can piece together a complete-as-possible list of 2025's public domain (including the Marx Brothers' Cocoanuts, Disney's Skeleton Dance, and Del Ruth's Gold Diggers of Broadway) here:
https://onlinebooks.library.upenn.edu/cce/
#jennifer jenkins#duke center for the public domain#public domain day#trademark#tintin#popeye#copyfight#copyright#roast in piss sonny bono#james boyle#marx brothers#mickey mouse#ravel#bolero#faulkner#hemingway#virginia woolf#steinbeck#skeleton dance#gold diggers of broadway#dali#wicked
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DPxDC Zero Gravity
Things Justice League knows about Danny Phantom:
He's dead (why, how, and for how long is unclear)
He's generally on the 'good' side (but contingency plans have been set up in case of 'future evil self' resurfacing, by Danny's own suggestion)
He's a figure of authority among other dead/neverborn/otherworldly/eldritch/magical beings (however, it's unclear to what kind of authority he holds and why)
He's dating one of the Bats (unclear to who, but none of them confirmed nor denied the fact, which is a confirmation on its own)
He absolutely hates only three things: toast, circus, and Christmas (neither of them explained)
His powerset is so wide that he can't even fully recount it (unclear if it's because he doesn't remember all his abilities or if he can't keep track of the new ones popping up spontaneously)
He's hot [whoever added this, you're not wrong, but I'm watching you - O.]
He has a grudge against Flash (unclear to why, but Flash seems to know the reason and won't budge regardless)
Of course, there are many more things to know about Danny Phantom, but they are mostly suspicions, rumors, and speculations. Like how sometimes the boy seems distracted and bored as if he is only going through a pre-written script; a sign of repeatedly going through the same day a few times too many, as the other time-travellers say. Or like how sometimes he knows too much - the boy is an expert in Kryptonian biology, to Clark's great surprise, and is more knowledgeable about Olympus politics than Diana herself.
There are also little things that are hard to notice and even harder to ignore once you do. How he never talks about family but likes listening to others talk about it. How he pointedly stays away from the medbay and any kind of medical staff. How he stops every time he passes one of the giant windows on the main floor of the Watchtower, smiling dreamily at the sight of vast, open space beyond it.
And then, there's The Thing that no one addresses.
When Danny Phantom doesn't pay attention, he unknowingly nullifies gravity.
The first time it happened, Bruce thought the Watchtower's artificial gravity collapsed. However, he very quickly realized that it was a local occurrence - only a few rooms and a hallway were affected - and, right in the center of it, was Danny, reading a book he borrowed (stolen) from the Wayne manor library.
The boy himself never noticed it. Which made sense, given that he defied gravity all on his own, always floating in the air above the floor.
But the others never acknowledged it either, treating the sudden absence of gravity as a sign of one, Danny appearing somewhere around, and two, him being in a good, if a bit absent, mood.
All in all, it's not the strangest thing that happens at the Watchtower on a daily basis.
And, besides, it's kind of fun.
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Danny, floating in the middle of the game room at Wayne manor, deeply engrossed in a video game: Eat this, sucker!
Tim, using his toes and knees to keep himself from floating up from the couch, not wanting to distract Danny from their match: Oh, you're going down.
Titus in the background:
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Bart, in the middle of a conversation with Kon:
Kon: ...
Bart, looking down at the cup on the floor: ... I guess he left?..
Kon: He literally went through a giant glowing portal two minutes ago, five feet away from you, but that's how you figure it out?
Bart: I have a short attention span, anyway-
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Barry, opening a bag of chips just for all the contents and himself as well to start floating: I swear he does this on purpose, I fucking swear.
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Red Tornado, coming into the training hall of Mount Justice: ...
Young Justice:
Red Tornado: I take it Danny is visiting. I'll leave you to it, then.
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Bruce, walking out of the conference room at the Watchtower to see this on the other end of the hallway, internally: He may be coming this way, I should warn the others in the room.
Bruce, a second later, because he is a little shit deep inside: On the other hand, it's a great surroundings awareness drill, so maybe I shouldn't.
#danny phantom#dpxdc#dc x dp#batman#batfam#tim drake#jl#justice league#space core danny#danny ancient of space#???#kinda?#watchtower#zero gravity#cork prompts#brought to you by#that video with astronauts forgetting things dont float anymore#does danny really not notice it?#or does he just pretend because its fun to watch others try to act like it doesnt happen?#up to you
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