#only that my partner did A Thing 12 years ago

[1zashreena1]

Got these today

And knew immediately what needed to be done

tiny doritos: superior

[dreamersparacosm]

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 was 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 then, 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.

All that to say, this is why you’re 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 wallflower you are, assuming your post, drinking whatever concoction Jimin’s roommate had created.

It is a tragedy.

The music swirls around you, yet you’re caught in the gravity of Seo-yeon and Jungkook’s orbit. Every glance, every word that passes between them felt like a blade to your chest. Her laughter rings out, effortless and bright, and you watch as she leans in closer to Jungkook, her fingers grazing his arm in a way that made the air between them shimmer with something unspoken.

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 blink, startled, “I’m not staring,” you mumble, but Taehyung only raises 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. It may 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 again. “You are the worst liar I know.”

“I’m not lying,” you insist.

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 think he sounds. “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, keeps you frozen.

Taehyung throws his hands up in mock defeat. "Alright, alright, I give up. Do whatever you want, missy. But don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

You look up at him, 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 know Taehyung is right, though admitting it felt like admitting defeat. You think back to those moments with Jungkook — the way his high fives always lasted a second longer than they should, or how his fingers 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 weird moments too, when his gaze would linger, his eyes soft, 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 shoots 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 look down at your cup, a heinous purple color now that the ice has completely melted. “I’ll stick to my alcohol for now.”

He saunters off, weaseling his way through the hoard of people to bully his next victim, you suppose. You are a little tipsy, you won’t lie.

With a sigh, you turn your head back to Seo-yeon and Jungkook.

…Where the fuck are they?

Now it’s time to panic.

You push 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. Thank god. 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 waltz up to the drink table, trying to act casual, but your heart skips when you see Jungkook standing there, grinning like he knows exactly what’s going on in your head. He waves 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?”

Your hands are suddenly unsure of where to go as you fiddle with your cup. “I wasn’t hiding! Just… you know, blending in with the background. Like I do.”

Jungkook raises 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 joke as you lean over him to pour yourself another cup of punch.

He laughs, leaning closer as if 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 sip your drink, looking up into his doe eyes. God, he’s just so…

Your curiosity gets the best 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 makes it harder than you expect to sound casual.

A small chuckle escapes him. “Seo-yeon? Nah, she’s just, uh, talking my ear off about some random stuff. Nothing exciting.”

He shrugs like it was nothing, his tone so nonchalant it almost makes you second-guess why it bothered you in the first place. “Honestly, I don’t even know half of what she’s saying. I’m just nodding and pretending to be interested.”

You blink, surprised that anyone could be bored at anything she had to say. “Wait, really? You’re just... pretending?”

“Yep,” Jungkook grins, 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 laugh, 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 shrugs his broad shoulders, something you’ve come to notice as he’s grown older. “Possibly, but—“

Your breath hitches when Seo-yeon reappears, her presence as loud and effortless as a storm breaking the quiet.

With a smile that’s all too practiced, she glides 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 purrs, fingers brushing against his arm as she leans in a little too close, a flirtatious glimmer dancing in her eyes. “Still owe me that drink, remember?”

Jungkook’s smile widens, completely unphased by her proximity. His fingers wrap around the cup and he hands it to her, their hands brushing lightly, “Of course,” he says, his voice soft, full of that gentle affection that makes you want to stick a fork in your eye.

You feel the familiar nerves rise in your chest, the uncertainty pressing down on you like a weight you couldn’t shake. The scene before you is too much, and you find yourself backing away instinctively, eyes flickering toward the exit.

You just need to escape, even for a second. But before you can take another step, Jungkook’s voice cuts through the hum of the room, “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 take another sip out of your cup, locking eyes with Seo-yeon, who, for once in her life, looks 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 widen, blinking a few times.

You drag 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 altogether.

Your nerves buzz with the alcohol in your system, and before you can stop yourself, the words tumble 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 blinks in surprise, eyebrows rising as if you had just grown another head. “What are you talking about?” she replies with that same airy sweetness, but the underlying edge is unmistakable. “I’m just being friendly.”

“Friendly?” You scoff, 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 laughs dismissively. “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 tilts her head, 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 catches in your throat, and something in you snaps. The rage bubbles 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 bite back, the question 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 opens her mouth to respond, but you’re not 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 don’t care anymore. The alcohol has 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 feels like a storm brewing, and you, a tad too drunk to fully grasp what you’re saying, but not so drunk that you don’t know it was the truth.

Seo-yeon’s lips curl into a sly smile, 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 grip 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 widen just a fraction, but she quickly regains her composure, laughing lightly. “Oh, really? You’re going to fight for him now? How cute.”

Your jaw tightens, but she doesn’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 drags 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 laugh with Taehyung in the corner, even flirt with a few people. Anything to take your mind off Seo-yeon desperately throwing herself at Jungkook, but you know better than to look.

Jimin, ever the instigator, suddenly stands up with a grin that spreads across his face like he holds the world’s most mischievous secret. "Alright," he begins, his voice teasing as he looks around at the gathered circle of about 20 leftover wranglers. "Truth or dare, anyone?"

You break your conversation with Taehyung, hesitating 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 whispers that this was the moment to stop being the quiet one.

A laugh bellows out from someone in the group. “Really, Jimin? Truth or dare? We’re in our twenties, not twelve.”

Jimin just shrugs, 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 begins, you can’t help but notice the way Seo-yeon scrambles to sit next to Jungkook, her movements almost too eager. She slides onto the floor beside him, her hand brushing his casually, but it doesn’t escape your notice.

It doesn’t help that Jungkook, who had been laughing and talking with the others, now seems to have caught sight of the silence that stretched between you and your friend. His gaze flickers toward you for a split second, brow furrowed slightly. There’s 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 swear he looks... worried. It’s only a glance, but it sends a ripple of uncertainty through you.

The game kicks off with such chaotic energy that there’s immediate regret of your decision to join.

Shirts come off, beers chugged, some over-the-clothes fondling. Laughter and teasing echo around the room, but you can’t seem to join in. Your nerves twist inside you, coiling tighter with every round. Every time your eyes flick toward Jungkook, your heart skips, and you can feel your emotions swirling— confusion, desire, hurt — but the fear of being exposed keeps you frozen.

Seo-yeon, on the other hand, is all confidence, sitting smugly in her chair with a knowing smile, like she already knows she’d be the center of attention. Like she knows, deep down, you won’t stand a chance.

Then, Jimin’s voice breaks through your fog of thoughts, full of mischief. "Alright," he says, eyes dancing as he turns toward Seo-yeon and Jungkook. "I dare you two to kiss for five seconds."

You might as well have just shot yourself right in the face.

Your breath catches in your throat. Your pulse thunders in your ears as you watch your (ex) best friend’s eyes light up with the thrill of the challenge. It was as if it’s too easy for her — too perfect an opportunity to pass up.

Without hesitation, she leans toward Jungkook, her lips finding his effortlessly. The room seems to quiet for a moment, and then it’s the silence that feels louder than anything.

But what makes your stomach twist isn’t just the kiss itself — it’s the way Seo-yeon’s gaze glances toward you just before their lips meet. The seconds stretch, and you can barely breathe, and your heart could very well break right then and there.

The kiss is over before you can even process the feeling of it, but the knot in your chest remains, heavy and tight, long after Seo-yeon pulls away. Jungkook looks over at you, so briefly you almost don’t catch it.

Your mind races, but you struggle to push the images from your head, the lingering feeling of Seo-yeon’s smug gaze before the kiss. You take another sip, the burn of it helping to cloud the pain you don’t want to face. The weight of it sits like a stone in your chest.

Taehyung’s voice cuts through your spiraling thoughts. “[Y/N], truth or dare?” he asks as he leans into you.

Jimin shoots him a playful glare, almost about to protest, but Taehyung’s quick, silencing him with a dramatic “Shh.” The room shuts up slightly, all eyes on you as you hesitate for a fraction of a second. You’re still reeling, but the alcohol buzz emboldens you — makes you feel more confident than you had all night.

"Dare.” You don’t know where this sudden boldness was coming from, but you couldn’t back down now.

Taehyung’s grin widens, “Alright then,” he says, tapping his fingers against his drink. “I dare you to go into the closet with Jungkook for five minutes.”

The room goes quiet. So quiet that if someone dropped a pack of 1,000 pins, every single one would shatter your eardrums.

You feel the weight of the dare pressing in on your chest, but you can’t bring yourself to look away from Jungkook’s pointed gaze.

Was this a joke? Was it real? Seo-yeon’s first to break the ice, who snorts in disbelief. “Are we in fifth grade or something?”

Jungkook, who had been the definition of ‘quiet as a mouse’, his drink in hand, suddenly takes a sip. To your surprise, he looks completely unbothered, almost... eager? “Who cares?” he says with a shrug, as if the whole situation is nothing more than a harmless, impulsive decision.

You freeze for a moment. You don’t know whether to laugh, cry or throw up. But there’s not much protesting to be done because before you get 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 clicks shut behind you, and the world outside the closet fades into nothing. Inside, the air is thick, the kind of tension that clings to the walls.

You stand like a statue. You can 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 reaches, leaving you in a space of shadows and soft, anxious breaths.

For what feels like an eternity, neither of you speak. The awkwardness hums between you like a steady pulse. You’ve known him forever but… you can feel your nerves twisting tighter and tighter, and the alcohol buzz makes it hard to think clearly, each thought slipping away just as quickly as it comes.

Jungkook finally breaks 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 try to force a laugh, but it comes out shaky, and you immediately regret it. “Yeah, not exactly the closet of my dreams,” you joke, though your voice trembles in a way you hope he won’t call out.

And then, just like that, Jungkook’s gaze meets yours again, but this time, there’s something different in his eyes. It’s like someone ripped your best friend away from you and replaced with someone who might actually.. never mind.

He’s pressed into you, your height difference showing as his head tilts down to look at you. His lips part, like he’s debating saying something.

With a surprising gentleness, he speaks. “This is going to be so random but… do you remember our kiss?” he asks, tone low, as if the question itself carried a weight he wasn’t sure how to handle.

The memories come rushing back unbidden — a flash of two 12 year olds, awkward and innocent, caught in a moment that now seems so impossibly far away. The brush of lips, a first kiss that neither of you truly understood.

But the way he looks at you now, like the past and present were colliding in this closet, makes everything feel much more real. You can feel the heat rise in your cheeks, pulse quickening. He remembers.

“O-Of course I remember,” you whisper, the words tumbling out before you can stop them, heart fluttering in your chest as the memory of the kiss resurfaces in vivid detail.

Jungkook holds your gaze, eyes dark and searching, as if he, too, was standing on the precipice of a realization. There’s a pause, a beat of silence that stretches between. And then, almost in a breath, he tries again, “My mom brought it up the other day. I didn’t know she watched my kissing virginity get taken away.”

“Oh,” you laugh. There is, quite literally, nothing funny about this. In fact, this will go on your list of Top 10 Most Embarrassing Moments (and you’ve guessed it—it’s number one.)

“I’ve thought about it a lot,” he confesses, his gaze never leaving yours.

The confession hits you like a sudden gust of wind. 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’re even remotely close to him?

“So…” he starts, breaking the silence, his voice carrying an underlying curiosity. “The last time you kissed someone... was it anything like that?"

Those stupid two bunny teeth poke out in a cheeky smile as he teases you about something that should be so trivial, yet is not.

Your eyes widen at the sudden question. You don’t know whether to laugh or squirm. You can feel the warmth creep into your cheeks, and you quickly look away, focusing on the clutter in the corner of the closet to avoid meeting his gaze.

“I… What?” You stammer. "What kind of question is that?"

Jungkook chuckles softly, leaning casually against the wall. "Well, I’m just curious. You know, if it was anything like the kiss we shared all those years ago," he teases.

You roll your eyes, trying to deflect the attention. “It wasn’t like that.”

“I haven’t kissed anyone in forever. In fact…” You trail 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 returns, but it’s gentler now, as if he was trying to make you feel better. “So.. What was the last kiss that actually meant something?” he asks tentatively.

You know damn well you can’t answer that without revealing too much. The truth is, there hasn’t been a kiss that meant anything — not since you were 12. But you can’t say that to him. Not yet.

“Long, long time,” You exhale.

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 say, keeping your voice steady as you try to joke your way out of it.

Jungkook laughs 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.”

The thump thump in your chest intensifies. "Damn, you really remember that kiss, huh?"

Jungkook just smirks, his big 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’s kept the dream alive. You meet his eyes, look into them, feel like you’re peering into his soul.

He steps 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 swirl in a haze of alcohol and overwhelming emotions. You blink, breath caught in your throat, trying to process.

He wants to kiss you again? What is this? What the fuck is happening?

Your voice comes out shaky, betraying the fear that had lodged itself in your chest. “Where is this coming from, Jungkook?”

Jungkook’s expression falters for a brief moment, as if he hadn’t expected you to be so open. He takes a step even closer, searching your face with an intensity that makes your knees feel like jell-o. His voice is 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 repeat his words from earlier. “You’re drunk, Kook. We’ve been drinking for hours.”

“I’m not joking,” he says, "I wouldn’t joke about something like that."

Your breath hitches as he reaches out, hand gently brushing against yours, as if waiting for you to decide. You can 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’s too much. Too much to process, too much to understand.

You’ve always been the one in love with him. Not the other way around.

Just as the words hang in the air, just as you swear he’s about to lean in and finally press his lips against yours, the quiet, intimate space you’d created shatters in an instant. The closet door suddenly flings open with a loud crash, and for a heartbeat, your world spins.

The sudden burst of light floods the small room, blinding you for a second before you recognize the faces of your friends, all grinning mischievously. Taehyung, the little shit, leans against the doorframe with a smug smirk on his face. Jimin, with his usual playful grin, stands next to him.

And then there’s Seo-yeon, leaning casually against the wall, her lips curled in a knowing smile.

You quickly step back, face burning as your eyes flick between them all, still trying to process what had just happened. Jungkook’s at a standstill beside you, face flushed as he runs a hand through his hair, clearly embarrassed.

“Well, well,” Taehyung mock pouts, raising an eyebrow. “Look at that. The closet’s really the place to be, huh?”

“Didn’t take you two long,” Jimin adds with a chuckle, crossing his arms over his chest. “I knew this was going to be good.”

You feel the blood rush to your face, and you can barely look at Jungkook. Your heart is still hammering, a mixture of humiliation and confusion swirling in your chest. You open your mouth to say something—anything—but words catch in your throat.

Jungkook clears his throat, taking a small step forward. “It’s not like that. We were just talking.”

“Oh, talking, huh?” Taehyung grins wider, obviously not buying it.

Your head is still spinning. The echoes of the teasing, the laughter, and the flirtation are still reverberating in your mind. You can feel the alcohol mixing with the tension that had been building up all night, and it’s just… too much to handle.

Your thoughts are a jumble — your best friend, Jungkook, the kiss that almost happened, everything is falling apart in a whirlwind of emotions.

The game seems to fizzle out after a few more rounds, yet you’re still sat there, hoping to make sense of it all.

The clock slowly ticks by, bodies still trickling in and out of the house despite how late it’s getting. And you probably should make an effort to talk to Jungkook, to fight for him, to stand up on your words to Seo-yeon.

But that’s not the case.

And so there you stand, attached to the wall yet again.

Except this time, Jungkook is peeling you off of it. He’s had enough ‘juice’ at this point to know better, to care less if he makes a fool of himself.

He makes his way toward you, his expression tight. “Can we talk?” he asks urgently. You open your mouth to protest, but before you can say anything, he’s already guiding you through the crowd, clutching your hand in his.

As you walk up the stairs, you look down at the people left over from the night, and you catch a second of a glance from Seo-yeon.

The loud music and chatter from downstairs fade as you make your way up to the quiet of the second floor. When you reach an empty bedroom, he closes the door behind you softly.

You both stand there for a moment. The fact that he’s still facing the door has you sweating through your blouse. You twiddle with your thumbs, setting your cup down.

Jungkook finally turns to face you. He takes a step forward, breath shaky. "[Y/N].. Am I crazy?”

“What do you mean?” You gulp, 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 can’t believe this is happening — can’t believe he’s saying this out loud.

Without thinking, you whisper almost inaudibly, "You don’t know?"

Jungkook’s brow furrows, and he takes another small step closer, “What?”

Your heart pounds harder now, hands trembling slightly at your sides. You take a breath, then let it out slowly.

Your voice is barely a whisper, but the words feel like they had been stuck in your throat for years. Which they have, but that’s no one’s business but your own. “You had to have known I’ve been in love with you.”

Out in the open, hanging, lingering. The words dissipate into the air. You start to wonder what magic potion’s been put in this drink that has had you ending many friendships tonight.

Jungkook freezes, eyes widening. He stares 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 begins again, voice strained, almost as if he’s fighting to keep his composure.

“I would have...” He swallows hard, stepping closer to you until he’s only inches away, breath warm against your skin. “... I would have kissed you. A long time ago.”

You feel your chest tighten, the intensity of his gaze locking you in place. The air is thick with everything that had been building between you, allegedly, for years.

Jungkook’s hand twitches at his side, as if he’s fighting himself, unsure of whether to make the move or not. His gaze flickers 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 whispers.

Everything inside you screams for him to close the distance, for him to finally kiss you when you’re older. But the fear, the uncertainty, still lingers. “Jungkook...” you mutter, voice trembling.

Somehow, he always knows just what you want to say.

“I know,” he says softly, his face inches from yours now. "I know."

“It wasn’t obvious, you know,” you begin. The fire from earlier that raged when you snapped on Seo-yeon begins 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’s honestly insulting for him to think otherwise. “You dated like 10 girls after that kiss when we were younger.”

“You dated someone too,” He points 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 want to break eye contact, look away and start crying into your shirt. But you don’t. You hold your ground.

His face softens, another cautious step 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.

And then it’s just word vomit galore.

“Well, if you don’t feel the exact same, then yeah, I will lose you. 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 U.S and become a monk. This is humiliating—“

You nor him get 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 meet yours, the world seems to fall away. There’s no party inside, no city stretching beyond the university — just him. Just this.

His kiss is slow at first, testing, as if savoring the feeling of finally closing the space that’s been pulling you together for so long. His fingers, warm against your cool skin, tilt your face up to him, deepening the kiss in a way that makes your breath halt.

You respond instinctively, pressing closer, hands gripping the fabric of his shirt like an anchor.

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 exhales against your lips, his hand sliding from your jaw to the nape of your neck, fingers threading into your hair. His other hand finds 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 leaves you dizzy.

Your heartbeat pounds in your ears, each passing second making it harder to think, to focus on anything but the way his lips move against yours. He tastes faintly of liquor, of something intoxicating yet familiar, something that makes you want to drown in him completely.

“I shouldn’t have waited this long," he murmurs, almost regretful. “It’s better than it was when we were 12.”

You let out a breathy laugh, hands still fisting his shirt. "Then don’t wait anymore."

A slow smile tugs at the corner of his lips before he leans in again, this time slower, as if committing every second to memory. His lips brush yours once, twice—enough to make your knees weak—before he kisses you fully again. His tongue pokes through, and a soft whimper leaves your mouth at the contact.

Jungkook’s second kiss is different — he’s more certain. The hesitation that had lingered before was gone, now replaced by something more urgent, more consuming. His fingers tighten at your waist as he pulled you closer, his lips parting against yours.

You meet him eagerly, hands sliding up his chest, fingers tangling in the collar of his shirt. He groans softly against your mouth, a sound that sends warmth pooling in your stomach.

His tongue brushes against yours, coaxing you, before he presses in more insistently, hand cradling your jaw as if he couldn’t bear to let go. He moves down to wrap a gentle hand around your neck.

Why the fuck is your childhood best friend choking you — more importantly, why is it the best thing you’ve ever felt?

Your breath hitches as his grip on you tightens, body pressing against yours as he held you firm to the bedside table.

"Tell me to stop," he pauses against your lips, but his hands never leave your body, fingers skimming the curve of your waist.

You shake your head. "I don’t want you to."

That’s all he needs.

In one swift motion, his hands slide to your thighs, lifting you with ease. A surprised gasp leaves your lips, but you instinctively wrap your legs around his waist, clinging to him as he carries you across the room. His lips never leave yours.

He reaches the edge of the bed, lowering you onto the plush mattress without breaking contact. His body hovers over yours, propped up on his forearms, his dark eyes searching yours.

"You have no idea how long I’ve wanted this," he admits, 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 exhales 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 send a thrill through you, but before you can respond, he kisses you again. His hands trace gentle patterns against your skin, grounding you, making you feel every ounce of emotion behind his touch.

His fingers move deftly, swiftly, but there’s a bit of anxiety behind his touch. He kisses down your neck, to your collarbone… pushing aside your shirt to your shoulder. His knee digs into your thigh, and you feel 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 looks down at you, eyes dark. If he wasn’t your best friend, you would’ve been scared.

His fingers ghost down your chest, to your stomach, playing with the hem of your shirt, 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 mumbles, feeling you through your bra. He moves the bra aside a little, sees the hard nipple poking through and removes your entire bra, one hand. He peels 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 whisper out, low enough for him to hear and for his cock to twitch in his pants.

He looks back up at you, taking his attention away from your chest. There’s 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 from 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 pushes you back onto the mattress, making room for himself to painstakingly 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 looks back at you. “Do you want me to make you cum?”

He can’t be serious. The blood rushes from your face down to your toes.

“P-please,” You whimper, 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 takes 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 cum, 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 can probably be heard across the entire campus. Your whole body jolts alive, eyes squeezed so, so tight as he works 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 bumps against your clit as your hips began to rock up and down, your body aching for more, anything he can provide, you would take it.

“Jungkook,” You breathe out, followed by a string of profanities and moans. He seems to be pleased by your reaction, 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 arches off the mattresss, vision blurry as he continues his assault on your clit. He’s so lost in it, so deep in it, he could barely respond.

He pulls away for a second, looking up at you with his big eyes, lips glossy and covered in your slick. You watch as he gathers some saliva in his mouth, spitting it onto your clit and letting his tattooed fingers rub your bundle of nerves.

“Oh my god.” That elicits another expressive string of words, your chest heaving as you teeter closer and closer to that edge.

You still can’t believe this is happening; your best friend of over a decade, eating you out like you were a five-course meal.

He envelops his lips around your delicate bud and pulls, 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 replace 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 says. “Gonna make you forget any of those assholes 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 reconnect with your burning core, all inhibitions vanish. He darts his tongue in and out, in and out, in and… your eyes roll 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, 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 whine out in a tone that’s half begging, half delirium. You’re not even sure your body’s in control of itself anymore, you just wriggle and thrash around as he works you to finish.

“Yeah?” He speaks against your clit, breath fanning against you. His fingers continue to pump in and out of you, his other hand rubbing incessant 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 engulfs 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 seems to go on for hours, his fingers penetrating you through it, his tongue caressing, and all thoughts dissipate under the onslaught of that blinding, electrifying pleasure.

Jungkook persists, relentless, until you thrust 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 leans over you, hovering over your shaking body. His head bows 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 pull away from his kiss, wiggling yourself out from under him. With a surprising amount of strength you muster up, you flip the two of you; you’re straddling him, thighs locked on either side of his toned abs. His eyebrows raise, 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 lean down, kissing him, fighting for some sort of reprieve. You kiss 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 say.

He deadpans. Was he hearing that right?

“Please,” you plead. “I just… I want to make you feel good, Kookie. Like you did for me. Wanna make you happy.”

He smirks, 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 calls his best friend who used to be the quiet, shy one, who is now asking him to let her ride his cock.

“Pleaseeee..” you moan, shuffling your body downwards so your clit is directly above his Calvin Klein boxers, grinding on him slowly like this is a middle school party. You don’t even know when he had taken off his jeans from earlier, you assume it was during the time his face was buried in your cunt.

He plays around with his lip ring, his nervous tic. “Fuck, yeah, baby just go for it. Show me how you ride your best friend.”

You pull back to finally get rid of his boxers, to finally see what’s underneath, if the rumors rang true.

You look down at his cock, splayed across his lower abdomen, open your mouth to speak and… pause.

“Jungkook,” you begin, eyes widened, half horror and half excitement, “I-you’re so… big.”

And the moment you say the words, you regret them. His ego is about to inflate to the size of Jimin’s entire house. He looks up at you through hooded eyes, licking his lips, “Yeah? You gonna take it, baby?”

The pet name makes you shudder. “I-I can try,” You stutter. “I’ve never been with someone this big before.”

He chuckles, his hands coming around to rest on your hips, rubbing circles with the pads of his thumb. You know very well he knows 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 coaxes, “How about you be a good girl for me and start off slow?”

You want to be his good girl more than anything in the entire world.

You can’t even answer, can’t do anything, because he begins 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 falls back, face scrunched up in pleasure, jaw hanging open.

The slide feels almost endless, like you’ll 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 against his pubic bone and your body feels so entirely filled.

You both let out a simultaneous moan; one 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 gives 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 travels 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 fall forward a little, gripping onto his chest and dig your fingernails into him. You can’t even think, breathe, can’t remember the last time something has ever felt this ethereal.

Your head lulls backwards, fingernails so deep in his skin you’re leaving bruises. Jungkook grips 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 continue to undulate wildly, and you don’t even know where the confidence is coming from but you feel like some fucking goddess riding this man into oblivion.

And you recognize it, he’s so close, his face is contorted, chest heaving, eyes squeezed so tight, committing the feeling of you riding him to memory..

But you never get to see that orgasm (yet) because you hear the door swing open. Jungkook sits up, eyes wide, 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 looks back at you, face flushed with an expression you can’t recognize. You toss your head back, and then learn pretty quickly why he looks like that.

You catch a glimpse of Seo-yeon’s black hair, and when you turn your body, you see 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 tries 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 three hours ago, but you turn 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 whines out.

“Yeah, you want to cum?” You lean 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 looks 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 lean 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 slams behind her, but you barely notice or care.

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 comes undone so fiercely he’s struggling to keep it together, to not collapse. He coats your walls, and you clench around him as you barrel through what might be the most insane orgasm of your life.

There’s a moment where black washes 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 fall 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 move over to his side, nestling into him and you’re positive there’ll be a mold of your body on him tomorrow. He wraps his arm around you, tugging in as close as he possibly could.

For a while, you just lay there like that. You welcome the silence, no longer letting it scare you.

“You know, your mom and mine were plotting on us.”

He’s the first to break through your thoughts. You giggle, tracing circles on his chest, listening to his heart thump thump thump against his ribcage as he keeps talking. “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 appears on your face. You’re not about to tell him you fell in love with him before that, probably when he gave you a Hello Kitty bandaid for one of your ‘ouchies’. “Is that so?” You tease.

Into your hair, Jungkook whispers, “Always been mine.”

There’s a wave of something that crashes over you, something you feel deep within you. He’s mine, you think to yourself. And you feel the sudden urge to blink tears away.

You lay there, peacefully, silently, in absolute bliss…

“Ugh, Jungkook! Right there! So fucking good!”

“[Y/N], keep going! Your pussy feels so good! Ahhhh!”

“Jimin! Taehyung!” Jungkook roars, reaching up one arm for the pillow on the bed and flinging it at the 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 cracks at the realization of you two… in his bed… with god knows what juices splattered. He shudders even imagining it.

“He’s got a point,” Jungkook sighs, running his hand over his face.

You laugh a little, then he does too, and you feel the vibration against your body. There’s only him, only now. And as Jungkook pulls you closer, tucking you into the warmth of his arms, you realize 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.

masterlist + request

[biblionerd07]

I gotta gush about something from the Residence, the White House murder mystery on Netflix starring Uzo Aduba. (Spoilers ahead but as far as I know they’re spoilers for character backstory but not for the plot of the show, though I’m only on episode 4 so idk if this comes into play later.)

Okay so there is a thing that writers sometimes do when trying to convey backstory to the audience where they have the characters just explain their backstory to someone. But often they are doing this to someone who would already know, like a family member/partner/longtime friend. You know I love my man Taron, but Netflix’s Carry-On did this with his character and his girlfriend multiple times. Like who’s been dating their partner for 2 years and says things like, “You moved here to be with me. That was 2 years ago.” It’s awkward and unnatural because people don’t talk like that to each other. They both already know that! But it’s hard because you want to tell your audience the story.

So, on to the point of this post. The 4th episode of the Residence opens with Cordelia on a birding trip with her nephew, who I think is somewhere in the 10-12-year-old range. He’s discouraged and wants to give up because they can’t find the bird they’re looking for, and Cordelia tells him about not giving up while looking for a lost sock.

She tells her nephew that his mom (her sister) had a favorite pair of socks as a child. She’d wear these socks every other day, even if they were dirty. Her nephew asks what was so special about the socks and Cordelia says, “They were a gift from her brother.” Her nephew’s face gets serious. Cordelia goes on to talk about how distraught her sister was when one of the socks was lost. She wanted to skip school to find it. She cried. Cordelia promised to find it and skipped school to look for it. She says, “I even looked in places I wasn’t supposed to look” and we see a closed door that a child-Cordelia opens to reveal a boy’s bedroom in an obviously untouched state. At one point in the story she mentions a neighbor bringing food by for the family even after her dad didn’t want the neighbor to do that anymore.

Neither Cordelia nor her nephew ever say the brother died. Because they don’t need to. In real life, you don’t need to remind your 10-year-old nephew about your brother who died. He knows, and he’s not a younger kid who would blurt it out just because he knows it. Instead of going for the unnatural “let me talk at you so we get character backstory through dialogue”, the show gave us the hints we needed and trusted us to put the pieces together ourselves.

We still get the backstory they wanted to tell us, but it doesn’t stand out as a weird conversation between family members. It’s so much more natural and I’ve been thinking about it all day because it was so refreshing. I feel like so. many. shows these days spoon-feed the audience every single detail and it leaves the dialogue feeling awkward. It was so nice to have a show say “here, you’ve been alive long enough that you can understand what we’re saying.” And we can! It was not particularly subtle, despite never actually saying the words. It was just really good!

[joltai-showa]

still thinking about Obito's tendencies to hang upside down so why not talk about something even more funny

now Obito is obviously trolling the Konoha squad in that moment, acting like a complete idiot and weirdo and all, usual stuff for Tobi. Obito is being a weird little bat on purpose, it's all an act

you know who among Akatsuki, a very scary and a totally serious organization, also acted like a weird little bat, but without it all being an act?

allow me to introduce you to the final page of chapter 238

Kishimoto, why is Deidara's first appearance is him being upside down during Akatsuki's zoom meeting?

(which is supposedly the first one in 7 years since Orochimaru ditched them, but whatever, no fucking way these guys can remain semi-organized without a good old online meetup, I do not care for canon's opinion when it conflicts with my funny headcanons)

But seriously, it's been almost 10 years since I read the manga for the first time and there's still no explanation as to why Deidara did that LMAO. Logic dictates that it's simply Kishimoto not finishing up the designs for his new villains (rinnegan's design wasn't finalized until, like, Akatsuki Supression arc, I believe? there's someone TOWERING over Kisame who is 195cm already and at the end of the day remains Akatsuki's tallest member, etc etc), but I've got a PhD in overthinking Naruto details and turning them into shitposts that sometimes also turn into fanfiction, so I will take this one tiny detail and make myself laugh until I cry.

To me this moment is just so precious because it's actually a scene from OG Naruto, meaning that it's pre-timeskip, so Deidara here is only 16. And this just proves to me that Deidara's puberty (there is no exact indicator as to when Deidara was abducted recruited into Akatsuki, but I assume it happened sometime when he was 12, because during his recruitment we see Itachi (and we know that he joined Akatsuki after the massacre, so he was 13 and he's got a 2 year difference with Deidara), Kisame (who, judging by his pre-death flashbacks, joined AFTER Itachi, meaning some time had to have passed since the massacre) and Sasori (who wouldn't have a partner after Itachi joined because Orochimaru just couldn't resist trying to get that Sharingussy, but Akatsuki don't operate on their own in general, so I doubt Sasori would have been left without a partner for a long time, a year max) and during this zoom meeting 16-year-old Deidara speaks like he's very much aligned with Akatsuki's goals and grudges which would be very weird if he joined them against his will just recently, so a year or more would have to pass between Deidara's recruitment and the OG Naruto zoom meeting) was arguably one of the worst things that organization as a whole had to go through because teenage Deidara was JUST BUILT DIFFERENT.

Don't mind the fact that even as an adult he starts tweaking if he doesn't get to explode something every few hours (I would imagine that teenage rage and angst would only exacerbate this issue), but he would also just want to "look cool" and wouldn't listen to anyone in any position of authority AT ALL. Going back to this scene of Akatsuki's zoom call, we can see (and for certain characters assume because once again designs here are kind of wack) that these overly serious members like Pain, Konan, Kakuzu and Sasori are PRESENT and just... don't do anything about Deidara's antics? They just gave up at some point LMAO. And a while ago, I presume.

16-year-old Deidara, proud and puffed up as a lion: You can stay on the ground as boring old men you are, but I'm going to hang upside down today, hm!

Pain, the acting leader of this very serious and lethal organization that for some reason took in a 13-year-old and a 12-year-old because, I dunno, the real leader thought it would be funny, sighing: okay, Deidara...

I also don't believe that it was ever specified how Nagato's zoom jutsu works, but I think Akatsuki's members simply sit in whatever position they want and their projection is different from their actual position which means that. yeah. Deidara does a bat cosplay. because he wants to. baby why are you like that.

but I also like to imagine Deidara actually hanging on the ceiling during the meetup and the gang just going

Pain: Sasori, can't you grab a mop or something and swat him off of there?

Sasori, in the most dead inside voice imaginable: you are not paying me enough to do that. in fact, you would not last a minute in the asylum I'm living in. you can't give me 40 minutes of peace, can you?

honestly props to Onoki for finding a way to both continue using Deidara's skills for his goals (by just fucking paying Akatsuki and calling it a day) and keep the village intact, teenage Deidara just seems like the trial version of what Akatsuki members could expect on their missions. like, if you can't manage the stress of dealing with the (pony)tailed beast, you have no business trying to fight an actual tailed beast.

I'm also thinking that adult Deidara aka Shippuden Deidara would think himself really cringe for doing this shit when he was younger and feels kind of embarrassed in front of the other members (who unfortunately besides Hidan were there to witness his cringe bat phase of growing up in your local terrorist daycare organization), so he's pretty quiet during the zoom meetings when we get properly introduced to him.

That's, of course, until Deidara gets partnered with Tobi.

I can imagine the two of them competing who can last longer hanging upside down and now Pain really can't do anything to stop this bullshit because it's his actual boss and his clueless partner making their own bat nest during their zoom meeting. He just tiredly glances over at Konan who gives him a "I told you Yahiko was right and we shouldn't have joined forces with this guy, but when do you ever listen to me" look.

The gang would be discussing something like Kakuzu and Hidan brutally murdering Asuma (who's Obito's classmate btw and whose mother he already killed a while ago) and trying to steal his corpse to sell for some cash and in the background above them Tobi'll be yelling something like "senpai, watch what I can do" and start turning cartwheels on the ceiling.

tl;dr Obito and Deidara match each other's freak when it comes to doing weird shit for no apparent reason other than to fuck with everyone while on the job. thanks for coming to my TobiTalk

[xetlynn]

Twilight Imagines- Embry Call

Imprint Mess

[Masterlist]

Requested by: @justannadahfanfictor

Summary: In which Embry and [name] are best friends but lately Embry has been avoiding her. Paul notices how down [Name] is and offers up a distraction. She takes it and Embry finds out the next day.

I sit outside on my porch, thinking about something Paul said earlier. Lately Embry hasn't been talking to me much. I purse my lips, not knowing how to take what was offered to me just hours ago.

Normally Embry, Quill and I hang out together in the afternoon but this past week it's like he wants nothing to do with me. Bringing Quill with him. I'd like to say I'm unbothered by it but I am not. At all. And since that I've had such strong feelings for Embry for a long time now. He's all that's on my mind since we were 12 years old, a year after becoming friends.

Everyone seemed to know about it except for the boy himself. Or he recently found out and this is why he's avoiding me. "Hey, you out here just to mope?" My sister sits beside me and I look over at her. "I'm not moping." I shake my head, taking a drink out of her soda can she brought out here. "Mhm, that's why everyone has told me you're not joining the cookout tonight." She takes the can from my hand right as I was about to drink it again.

The cookout is mainly the wolf pack talking about things. They invite peoples partners and certain family members that know about it. I only know because of Seth and Leah turning. Then I found out how Paul and the others did too. Later on Embry did as well, he told me immediately. We talked all the time. I don't know why he's acting so different. I sigh. "I just don't feel up to being with everyone tonight." I lie, well partially.

"Ah, okay." Leah acts like she's about to drop it but instead she starts talking again. "Have you talked to Embry lately?" She asks me, I look over at her with a bored expression. Then it's like something clicks in her head. "Is he the reason you're not coming tonight?" She questions me, her body lifting up dramatically as if this is crazy information. I scrunch my face, shaking my head. "Leah, please leave me alone." I plead with her.

"You can talk to me, y'know." She says, standing up from her spot. "Thank you but I just need a second." I give a short smile and she gives me a sad one in response before heading back inside. I look out in the road. I see someone walking up to the house and I begin to stand up to go inside, going to grab at the door. Not wanting to deal with a social interaction. "Wait, [Name]. It's me." The voice calls after me, I turn around to see Paul. I huff, standing up straight and walking off the porch to talk to him.

"I was hoping I didn't scare you off with my offer. I heard you're weren't joining us tonight. I needed to make sure you were okay." He tells me, I shrug my shoulders, putting my hands in my back pockets. "I am fine. I needed time to think about everything."

"I didn't scare you off?" He tilts his head, I laugh. "No, you didn't. I just- I'm still stuck on Embry. I don't know. It's stupid." I look at the ground, just feeling dumb about everything. "[Name], I don't think it's stupid. Embry's an idiot for not realizing what he has." He tells me and I don't respond, not knowing what to say to that. "Let me distract you." He whispers and my heart begins to race. I glance back to my house then to him.

I think about how Embry has canceled on me. I think about how he has been avoiding me, not understanding why. Treating me like a bad friend. We aren't even together, we've never really flirted to begin with. He doesn't have feelings for me so what does it matter. I finally give Paul my eye contact. "Not here. My siblings are staying the night."

He smiles, taking my hand and we go to his truck. There was a weird tension between us. The ride was silent until I decided to make a move. Place my hand on his thigh and trailing up. I was focusing on what I was doing until he gripped my wrist before I could move any closer. "I'm going to have to pull this vehicle over to the side of the road if you don't stop." He warns me.

I don't listen, and he ends up pulling into the driveway and we don't get out.

And after that we go to his house and do the same thing. The next day was not even awkward. We agreed we didn't have feelings for one another, this was a one time thing. Just a distraction of things we were both dealing with.

I got all my stuff together, throwing it on and using the bathroom to check if I look decent. Paul had left already and I don't know exactly when. He just left a small note on the bed beside me. I exist the house and begin to walk. It's a 2 mile distance from my house. Which isn't bad and it's nice outside surprisingly.

I think about last night, how everything went down and all I feel is guilt. Like I did something wrong. I feel sick to my stomach and it won't go away. The entire 2 mile walk of shame was just me practically bullying myself about my decision. I don't necessarily regret it.

I finally get into the yard of my house, tiredly I go to sit on the porch before going inside. I hide my head in my hands. Sitting there for a while. "[Name]."

And I get deja vu. I look up to see Embry. I furrow my eyebrows as he comes up to me in anger. "What's your deal?" I ask him, not getting up from my spot. He stands in front of me. "You hooked up with Paul?!" He loudly asks me and my jaw drops. I shush him, looking back at the house to make sure my siblings weren't eavesdropping or something. "Excuse me?"

"You hooked up with Paul? Out of everyone? Why would you do that?" He questions me, I stand up on the first step of the porch, now being the same height as him. "I can do what I want Embry." I cross my arms.

He seems stunned for a moment. "It just seems out of nowhere. That's strange, I feel like you would've told me if you were interested in... someone like him." He is kind of talking to himself. Not looking me in the eyes. I let out an annoyed breath. "Embry, why are you here?" I ask him.

"I thought we were best friends and I have to find out in a weird way that you're hooking up with Lahote." He says, I laugh rolling my eyes. "Best friends? You have been avoiding me and canceling our plans nonstop these past two weeks. Making me feel like crap. Who cares if I didn't tell you I slept with someone? What does it matter?!" I yell at him, pointing a finger in his chest. I can't believe he would blow up like this. I figured he would find out but he has no right to be upset. I then feel weird, like I need to be closer to him.

"I haven't been avoiding you." He scoffs, my eyes widen. "Seriously? Anytime I join everyone you don't talk to me and when I go up to you, you make an excuse to leave. That's not avoiding someone?"

It grows quiet and I shake my head. "I'm going inside. When you decide not to come at me all weird come talk to me, Embry." I calmly tell him, turning around to walk to the house door. The thing is, I can't get myself to actually open the door. "Wait." He sighs. "Please."

"What now?" I irritatingly turn back to him.

"I have been avoiding you but it's because I've fallen too hard for you. I needed to think about my feelings. It was a lot. I knew you didn't feel the same way. It was rude of me to avoid you though." He explains himself and my heart sinks. "I came at you because I was mad, I mean obviously. I didn't know you and Paul had feelings for each other and it hurt." He looks at the ground, ashamed. I let out a small laugh.

"Paul and I do not have feelings for each other. We did a dumb thing that's for sure." I rub my lips together in embarrassment before I continue talking. "I like you a lot Embry I've had feelings for you since we were 12. It's been 9 years. Which is just embarrassing in its self. Paul knew about it. He offered a distraction and I took it." I shrug my shoulders.

"I'm not proud of it but it's already done and I can't take it back. You hurt me by the way you avoided me. I didn't understand what I did." I tell him.

"Yeah I'm sorry. I'm an idiot." He takes the steps up the porch. Both of us sit down together on my porch swing. "You are definitely one. But I think I am too. So it's okay." I smile, clasping my hands together. "You really have feelings for me?" He asks.

"Yeah, unfortunately." I joke. He nudges me with his elbow. "I don't know where this leaves us." I tell him earnestly. He nods his head, agreeing. "I still like you. I hope you still like me." He says.

"I do."

"I'll take you out on an actual date and we figure this out together?" He asks, we both look at each other at the same time and I crack into a smile. "Are you sure?" I grin at him. "Yes." He smiles back at me.

"I would love to." I pull him into a hug. "I've missed you so much." I admit. "I missed you too, I'm sorry." He pulls me closer to him.

After a little bit I pull back and I think for a moment. "Did you go off on Paul?"

He chuckles, "No I didn't, He was thinking about it while we were in our wolf forms. He apologized immediately. I didn't respond to him. I just left to find you." He rubs the back of his head.

"Dang, at least it wasn't a huge blow out."

"Yeah, I had some sort of control. I was just hurt. I mean it's now a little weird knowing... everything. Also I think I imprinted on you in our argument." He informs me and I furrow my eyebrows.

"Is that what this overwhelming feeling is?" I ask, pushing away from him. Not mad, just curious about this. "I think so." He smiles awkwardly.

"So we're stuck together for a while." I say. "Yeah, seems like it." He pulls me back into his arms.

[fallen-w1ngs]

'' SEND ME NO FLOWERS ,,

|| pairings: bucky barnes x gn!reader

|| warnings: fluff-ish? , really bittersweet , 1940s bucky

|| word count: 1k words

"No, please? Stay the night?"

You gave the best puppy dog eyes you could as you looked up to your partner. Your everything. Your Bucky. He was enlisted and getting sent out first thing in the morning. The two of you had gone steady a few months ago, but you'd known him for years before that.

"Dolll, I-" Bucky snorted and held you close to his chest, his forehead resting against yours before he pressed a small kiss to the tip of your nose. His lips gentle, and his touch was like clouds. "How can I say no t'you?"

A small chuckle left your lips as you ushered him into your home. You agreed that, after the war the two of you would get married. Move in together.. Ah, well, you don't wanna dwell on that right now. You're going to focus on the man right in front of you and that's all.

"You can't say no t'me!" You hugged his waist before pushing him down to the couch. With gentle touch, you grabbed his coat and threw it to the side. He's complained before about how it was tight and hot in it. "And I thank God for it everyday"

"You're so bad, hun"

"You love it"

In a graceful movement, you sat nicely on his lap. Your hands cupping his face as you looked over his face. Trying to remember every wrinkle, every hair, every bump and crevice. You weren't going to see him for months..

"What's on your mind, sweetheart?" The man in front of you asked with a worried smile. His hands were placed on your waist, making sure you weren't going to fall or move or anything of the sort. "Why're acting like 'n eager beaver?"

".. You promise you'll be back, right?"

A beat of silence spread between the two of you. James Buchanan Barnes left wordless for a moment. His shoulders tensed, no one would notice. No one but you. He licked his top lip before he captured your lips on his.

"I promise." He whispered against you. "I'll be back quicker than y'can say my name"

You ran a hand through his hair, it was so soft under your touch. You're going to miss moments like this. The sweet man you met gradeschool. You remembered when he was a lanky 12 year old boy, all confident at being 'the fastest kid in the whole school.' Honestly, when you were kids you didn't like him. He was a popular kid in school, everyone loved him

Except you. Which was strange for Bucky. So, of course, he made the great decision to talk to you in the library. You were reading The Great Gatsby.. Which was a heavy book for a 12 year old to read. But that just made Bucky even more enraptured with you.

Ever since then, he'd been glued to your side. After that, you, Bucky, and Steve had become a close knit trio. Everyone knew wherever you went, Bucky and Steve were close behind.

It was only inevitable that you'd fall for one of them.

Ah, well. That's enough reminiscing.. The front lines were the one place you wouldn't be able to follow Bucky to. You weren't enlisted, nor did you want to join the army. Much too violent for you. You wanted to open a bookshop for crying out loud!

"You'll stay safe though, okay, James?"

"Oh no, y'called me James, am I in trouble?" He had his signature smirk on his lips, trying to lighten the mood. It was a, uh, a failed attempt.

"Promise me."

His gaze softened as he kept his eyes locked on yours, his thumbs rubbing small circles on your back. Something he learned to soothe you one day after you had a low grade on a math test.

"I promise, doll."

A small sigh left your lips before you kissed his forehead softly. "I'll send you flowers, 'kay?"

"No."

You huffed and leaned away, your brows furrowed at his quick answer. A small frown on your face. "Why? Embarrassed of me?"

"Not one bit, doll, don't even joke like that," His grip on your waist tightened before he pulled you closer. "I don't want'cha to send me flowers, 'cause I want'cha to save that for our garden."

A small, confused chuckle left your lips. "Garden?"

"When we live together after the war," He whispered and kissed your lips, a quick soft one. "We'll have a big garden, somethin' we can take care of together."

"Buck-"

"We'd have the best front yard in the whole neighborhood," His eyes bore into yours. His blue eyes locked on yours as he looked at you.. Only love and admiration. Unlike his usual teasing nature, he looked at you as if you're the only person in the world. As if he wasn't leaving the next day. In fact, he looked at you as if you'd spend your whole life together..

That was his plan, at least.

"So no flowers, got it, sweetheart?"

You rolled your eyes and leaned forward, your forehead resting against his. "I got it."

"Doll?"

"What is it, Bucky?"

"I love you."

Your heart skipped a beat before a giggle escaped your lips. Your arms wrapped around his neck tightly as you placed scattered kisses around his face. You've said you "i love you's" before. But the magic hasn't weared off, not for you at least. Not ever.

"I love you too, James Buchanan Barnes. I love you more then you'll know."

The two of you sat there in a comfortable silence for a while. Quiet conversations between you two before Bucky carried you to your room. Where the both of you cuddled all night and whispered sweet nothings to each other.

You kept him close, stealing away any and all his warmth in the dark of the night.

Sadly, the morning came by, and your Bucky was swept away. Of course, he spared you a kiss before he had to go, promising he'd be back before you could say his name.

If only that promise was kept.

I LOVE 1940S BUCKY. I WANT A WHOLE AHH SERIES ABT 1940S BUCKY BARNES. :(((

[lrlamauthor]

Hello, I come bearing the new covers of Micah Grey! Art by Vera Dramovski, who did the US covers for Emily Wilde.

Pantomime & Shadowplay were first released in 2013 and 2014. After the first publisher imprint closed, I managed to re-sell the first two and complete the trilogy in 2017.

Last year, thanks to the commercial success of Dragonfall, I was able to get the rights back and re-sell to my current US and UK publisher. This time, I decided to edit the books for content and to bring them up in line to my current writing style. I initially thought they would be minor edits. They...were not. Same spirit and overall journey, but polished to hopefully shine as bright as Penglass. When it was first released, it was the first YA book with an intersex protagonist in any genre. It's now been aged up to new adult (Micah is 18 instead of 16, but I haven't made it significantly spicier or anything). I'm excited to re-release it and be able to openly talk about its themes. My first publisher considered it a twist and I was asked not to mention he was intersex the first time around. But Dragonfall, which is in a queernorm world and has a nonbinary protagonist, has had some transphobic nonsense, and I'm pretty anxious about re-releasing it in a time where things are in many ways more polarized than when I first released it 12 years ago.

Anyway, book 1 is out in September and if you would like to read it (or preorder!), I hope you enjoy reading about a queer magic circus. At least this time you won't have to wait 3 years after the cliff-hanger at the end of book 2--you'll only have a 2 month gap.

“Set in a vividly imagined world…Pantomime is a fable-like story as beautifully unique as its main character.” —Malinda Lo, New York Times-bestselling author of Last Night at the Telegraph Club

In a land of lost wonders, the past is stirring once more . . .

Micah runs away from a debutante’s life at home and joins the circus, harboring two secrets—one: he was born between male and female, and two: he may have powers last seen in mysterious beings from an almost-forgotten age. Micah discovers the joy of flight as an aerialist, courting his trapeze partner, Aenea, and confiding in the mysterious white clown, Drystan. He finally feels free. But the circus has a dark side, and Micah’s past isn’t done with him.

Meanwhile, the strange 'ghost' of a woman with damselfly wings whispers to Micah that only he can help magic return to the realm, and he fears she may be right . . .

Micah has much to learn, and he must do it quickly—before his past and future collide, with catastrophic consequences.

"[A]n exotic and detailed world, peopled by characters that I’d love to be friends with…and some I’d never want to cross paths with." —Robin Hobb, New York Times-bestselling author of Fool’s Assassin

[spiderworries]

if i owe you mail(irl), or texts (digital) or whatever, sorry. it’s been the most batshit insane month of my life.

so

life update!

i move in a month, maybe a month and a half. depends on what sublet i end up with. i got the out of state job. i also got full time temp in state work (thank god) so i can afford to move out of state. somehow, in the past month, i have managed to meet dozens of beautiful and radiant and amazing people in this city that i hate, just as i am leaving it, and i will meet many other radiant people in new cities too, but it’s very strange to feel like i’m finally established in a local community that i’m preparing to leave.

i’m leaving virtually everyone and everything i love, the last time i did something like this was when i was 17, and i was moving for college then, which is wildly different, and even then, i was only an hour flight from home.

i feel like i am mourning an east coast summer that i haven’t even left yet, a summer that i have always hated, but i am so used to the cicadas that a night without them sounds unnaturally silent, and they don’t have cicadas on the west coast.

this time last year i felt like i had nothing and no one except for a partner that i hated (who i was with because i had put time and energy into it, and i didn’t want to start over) and i thought i was going to work in higher ed for the rest of my life (because i was good at it, and experienced, and i didn’t want to start over) after i finished my degree that i didn’t plan on using (bc i was almost done with it, and fuck it, you need a bachelors now, and i didn’t want to start over [again])

and now i am a college dropout about to relocate 3000 miles away to work my high school dream job in a city that i never thought i would make it to and the entire world is full of love and joy and there are people i met less than a year ago that are some of my closest friends in the world, and i remembered that there are many people who i have known for many years who were already my closest friends in the world and always will be.

this time last year i would barely speak to my mother and now we plan weekend trips together just to drink fancy cocktails and eat delicious food.

for the first time since i was 12 i have a body that i feel at home in. i bought my first triangle bikini and i have been dreaming of places to wear it. i can dance all night and run and haven’t had even the idea of pain.

i did not think that i was unhappy a year ago, and i don’t think that i was by many metrics, but if i could meet the me from last april i would tell them not to change a thing, and fail, and cry, and get their heart broken a dozen times, and that it is going to be ok, not despite, but because of that

[your-internet-bf]

18, 12, and 9 for the ask game 4?

9 - what object around me would I use to get off?

Easily the moisturizer on my desk. Barring that... maybe my knife?

12 - what's the weirdest thing that turned you on, and did you masturbate to it?

Maybe a couple years ago when a classmate handed me a pen that I'd dropped. Her hand lingered on mine for a moment, and I noticed that she had really beautiful hands with these lovely pink nails. Definitely jerked off to that a few times.

18 - can only do one thing to a partner for an entire month, what is it?

Gotta be throatfucking. It's just such a powerful position

[dizzyrobinsims]

Ladies and Gents, this is the moment you've waited for-

Welcome to the Carnaval Cósmico.

So for anyone wondering why no new CC has come out this week, blame @j3lly-fish BECAUSE THEIR CIRCUS CHALLENGE RUINED MY BRAIN.

YES. I DID ALL ROLES AND STORY BEATS, ROLLING AWAY. Breakdown of the characters and their rolls under the cut.

Rinmaster / Strongman: Fernando Maravillah. Rolls: 1, 6/10, 14/15, 3 + 15 20- Ghost. Fernando died of a fire years ago, but his spirit is still strong and is the showman for the biggest circus across the cosmos!

The High Flying Twins (acrobat and tightrope walker): Annette and Bayonette Strata Both rolled Yellow + injury from a job related accident, and then one rolled black and the other white so... identical twins. An accident early on in their career during a joint performance resulted in the mirrored loss of a leg each, but as spellcasters they have been able to supliment their performances with magic and have gone on to master their arts even further.

Trapeze Artist: Prim Gleimea 17, 1/15, 6/18, 6, 11- alien Prim is Bayonette's fiance (she is a high flyer and rolled black and pink so matched her black... I had to) and was also injured during the performance, losing an eye. Grateful for their small family finding a new path forward with the Cosmic Carnival, her down to earth personality is happy to start discussing family matters with the love of her love now that their future feels more secure.

Clown: Gregor Shiftry 14, 6/11, 13/4, 12 10- werewolf Gregor got bit by a wandering wolf at a stop his old circus took in a backwoods town, but has since found a new family with the Carnaval (and flirtation with Annette). His collar was a gag gift from his best friend Cress, and after receiving it he finds he's able to keep his wolf a lot calmer (leaving Cress embarrassed his goofy friend actually *wears it*.)

Contortionist: Fiero Lambaste (probably not real name) 13, 3/20, 13/17, 10 1- vampire Fiero has been around awhile and has been in the biz since circuses were a thing (so he says). His years have left him not eager to venture out his tent, but his long time partner Cremisi the Macaw helps get him out of the tent for socialization.

Juggler: La Ti 10, 4/17, 14/2, -locked in- something is eerie… 17- Mermaid La Ti is absolutely just a normal aquatic life form! There are so many of them across the galaxy, nothing to worry about. Nothing at all. Ignore the screams coming from her bubbles she uses for juggling. Poor unfortunate souls.

And per the first one, Cress Asher the Knife Thrower/Magician makes a reappearance. Being the only human in the bunch, he has his work cut out for him. Good thing he has his knives.

[religion-is-a-mental-illness]

By: Maia Poet

Published: Apr 11, 2025

When I began to find myself swimming in a sea of trans content at the age of 12 in 2012, one of the first stories of "trans kids" I saw was the story of Jazz Jennings. I watched grainy, low-quality footage from his 2007 special. Even though Jazz is only one year younger than me, I thought he was much younger—because I was seeing him at six years old when I was already 12. It didn’t occur to me until months later, when I saw one of his more recent media appearances, that I had been watching a video from five years ago. That was my level of life perspective at the age when I declared my trans identity— I didn’t understand that the change in video image quality was a sign of how old the video was. When I realized that Jazz was around my age, I was stunned.

From there, I consumed every video I could find about "trans kids." There were only a handful of documentaries and talk show appearances. Once I’d exhausted those, I moved on to watching content created by adult transitioners. I began studying the intricacies of hormonal and surgical “sex change.” I watched hours of footage of women ten years older than me binding their breasts, and vlogging about ‘top surgeries’. Within two years, many of them had full beards and were talking about their mastectomies the way I talked about going to the trampoline park with my family— as a joyous, gravity-defying liberation of the Self.

When I finally got my own phone and was old enough to make a Facebook account, I even messaged a few of these adult women whose gender transitions I had watched play out over the course of my adolescence. If I had more understanding of how the world works, I would have known that I could have lied about my age to get onto the platform earlier. I was that naive. In retrospect, as a young adult myself I’ll never understand why those adult transitioners chose to respond to the messages sent to them by a 14-year-old. But that’s beside the point.

The point is, that as a pre-teen, I became so obsessed with understanding this phenomenon that by my early adolescence I memorized all of the information available to me online at the time. And because I already had a habit of being an elementary-aged kid who read parenting books and researched niche medical conditions, it was easy for me to convince myself that I, too, was a "trans kid" who in the absence of experimental medical treatments, would very well die.

Far before most people had even heard of this issue—and long before it became a teenage identity trend—I knew almost everything there was to know about transgenderism. It’s odd now to see adults twice my age acting as though this phenomenon came out of nowhere. I didn’t just see it coming. As a 12 year old who adopted a trans identity in 2012, I predicted it. I grew up immersed in all things ‘trans’. I watched this phenomenon morph in real-time from the narrative of old-school transsexualism into the invention of the "transgender child," and finally as it pervaded into the dominant youth culture of my ‘non-binary’ generation.

Many times during my detransition journey, I’ve asked myself the same haunting question: Where was everyone when Jazz Jennings got castrated?

In order to answer this question, I will publish this piece in two parts. Part one will focus on the ways in which mainstream media and medical authorities partnered to create the “transgender child” within the Western collective consciousness. Part two will focus on how collective shifts within parenting trends and attitudes about child-rearing amongst middle and upper middle class families, in combination with rapid shifts in the availability of internet-connected technologies— created a perfect storm of factors which culminated in the ‘transgender tipping point’.

I hope these papers will inform the public about how trans issues have gone from an unknown obscure topic, to the subject of a raging culture war— seemingly in the blink of an eye. I believe that trying to dissect the culture itself through the case study of Jazz Jennings, readers will come away from these essays with a greater understanding of the complex sociocultural and medical underpinnings of today’s trans phenomenon. After reading this paper, let me know how I’ve done!

The Jazz Jennings Phenomenon

[ Barbra Walters interviewed six year old Jazz Jennings in 2007. The “trans kid” narrative had just been born. ]

In 2007, America was introduced to the story of Jazz Jennings, a six-year-old boy from Florida whose parents had decided to raise him as a girl and share his story publicly. Cameras followed Jazz and his family as he grew up, chronicling his transition for an audience captivated by what was presented as a courageous and heartwarming journey of self-discovery.

But beneath the uplifting narrative was a far more troubling reality. At age 11, Jazz was chemically castrated to halt his male puberty. In high school, he was prescribed cross-sex hormones, which, when paired with early puberty suppression, rendered him permanently sterile. By 14, he was the star of the reality show I Am Jazz. In 2018, at age 17, the cameras followed him, hugging a teddy bear, into the operating room as surgeons attempted to construct a simulacrum of female genitalia from his underdeveloped male anatomy—an operation so experimental that multiple follow-up surgeries were needed to address serious complications.

[ 17 year old Jazz held a teddy bear as he waited to be wheeled into the operating room for his penile inversion procedure, aged 17. ]

Despite the fact that every stage of this boy’s process of being indoctrinated, exploited and maimed—was filmed and broadcast for national and international audiences, widespread concern over what was happening to Jazz did not surface until about 2021—far too late to intervene or prevent the damage. With millions watching I Am Jazz, no prominent voice broke through the mainstream media to question what was unfolding before America’s very eyes.

So again we must ask: Where was everyone when Jazz Jennings got castrated?

The Creation of the “Transgender Child” Was Televised.

The short answer is that we were all sold a story. We were led to believe in the existence of a new category of person—the “transgender child.” Most Americans were familiar with the concept of a transsexual, which in the schema of the 2000’s-era adult, was either a gay drag queen who “took the next step” or a middle-aged, married crossdresser with a wife and kids. The transsexual wasn’t an adult female on testosterone. The transsexual certainly wasn’t a child. 

Jazz’s case was the first to introduce this idea to the English-speaking world, featured prominently on 20/20 with Barbara Walters. His parents claimed they had always known Jazz was “different”—even pointing to behavior as early as 15 months old, like unsnapping his onesie, as evidence of a cross-gender identity. Unlike Jazz’s older twin brothers, Jazz did not grow out of his ‘girly’ phase by the time he was a pre-schooler. He continued to be a gentle boy, not a rough and tumble one. So, his parents decided to see an “expert” gender therapist in 2003— while the child was probably still in diapers.

The documentary featuring Jazz Jennings, alongside a few other “trans kids” called My Secret Self presented gender dysphoria as an innate, intractable condition detectable in small children and treatable with a medical protocol we today know was imported from the Netherlands. While it acknowledged the experimental nature of these treatments, this fact was easily obscured by the narrative that without such extreme, irreversible interventions being done on young children- that these children were doomed to end their lives. Viewers were reassured: no permanent changes would occur until Jazz was older and better equipped to make informed decisions.

But this was a lie of omission. Social transition in childhood, especially when paired with puberty blockers, is not a neutral intervention—it entrenches a cross-sex identity and all but guarantees progression to cross-sex hormones. We now know that over 98% of children who begin puberty blockers proceed to further medical transition.

The idea that blockers merely “buy time” has been thoroughly debunked– but only after a generation of children were sacrificed. What’s even worse, is that the Dutch clinicians who created this child transition treatment protocol, themselves advised against the early full social transition of a child prior to the early stages of puberty.

A Story That Subverted Our Common Sense

[ Jazz instilling his childhood passion of creating mermaid tails into another little boy whose parents are raising him as a girl ]

Jazz’s story was compelling because he was photogenic and looked feminine: he had long hair, princess dresses, a love for Disney songs and mermaids. His mother even speculated that Jazz’s love of mermaids was related to their lack of genitalia—a theory she picked up from other parents of gender-nonconforming boys on internet forums. But many kids, both boys and girls, in the early 2000s loved mermaids because of The Little Mermaid. It wasn’t because of a pathology. It was a trend.

This shows a broader trend of how the parents of “trans kids” have a tendency of scrutinizing their child’s every behavior as evidence of some problem just itching to be solved. They are superimposing their own adult analysis onto a child’s behaviors, in order to derive meaning from them. 

An adult who has tons of kids and is working multiple jobs to support them wouldn’t fixate so much on which fictitious character their child is obsessed with– nor would they have the time to construct an elaborate fairytale about why the kid wants to become that thing. But if you’re like Jazz’s parents, who are wealthy enough to have four kids living in a big house, who were really on the cutting edge of child-centered parenting, and who happened to have a kid who was very gender non-conforming– you’ve got yourself a perfect storm to find yourself as the parent of a “trans kid.”

Many young boys go through phases of dressing up as princesses. In Jazz’s case, what might have been a passing interest, or one that evolved into a career in dance, theater or fashion design— became a diagnosis. His parents, like many of those who now champion their young “trans kids,” were not initially ideologues. Most began as concerned, bewildered, or overwhelmed—struggling to soothe their distressed child and feeling inadequate in the face of it.

In today’s climate, these parents are swiftly ushered into the world of gender medicine. Pediatricians refer them to gender clinics, where experts frame early social transition as harmless and reversible. The same experts falsely claim that puberty blockers are reversible interventions which “pause” development so a child can consider whether they wish to proceed to cross-sex hormones, and that blocking healthy puberty in its early stages is something which must be done urgently, as a form of suicide prevention. Out of love and fear, parents hand the reins to medical professionals—believing they’re doing what’s best for their child. Importantly, all of these life-changing psychosocial and medical interventions are framed as neutral, harmless opportunities for self-exploration. Even as a child’s puberty is being actively suppressed, parents are lead to believe that no permanent, life-altering decisions have been made yet. They are given a false illusion of having ‘more time’ to decide upon the future opportunities which will be available to their child, not understanding one basic truth:

The first permanent decision regarding a child’s gender transition is often made much earlier than parents realize. Social transition in early childhood initiates a path that almost always leads to medicalization. Puberty blockers interrupt natural developmental processes necessary for resolving gender distress. By the time cross-sex hormones are introduced, the child’s trajectory has already been firmly set for years.

How the Dutch Protocol Created the Market for Trans Children

[ Jazz Jennings and the doctors who removed his genitals ]

The widespread belief that pediatric transition was a response to an existing and urgent medical need ignores a crucial reality: the existence of medical interventions for children with gender dysphoria has itself created the demand for those very interventions. The Dutch Protocol, which introduced the use of puberty blockers followed by cross-sex hormones in carefully selected adolescent patients, did not emerge in response to a large population of children begging for medical transition. Rather, it introduced an entirely new treatment pathway that shaped how gender dysphoria was understood and managed—one that was soon exported across the Western world.

Developed in the Netherlands in the early 1990s, the Dutch Protocol was initially presented as a compassionate innovation for a small group of carefully screened adolescents whose gender dysphoria was severe, persistent, and began in early childhood. These adolescents were described as psychologically stable, supported by their families, and free of major comorbid mental health issues. The protocol’s authors claimed that, for these specific patients, early medical intervention could reduce distress and improve quality of life. Mostly, these clinicians seemed concerned with the ability of these young (mostly) boys to “pass” as women in adulthood, as a way to correct for the difficulties faced by adult transsexuals who attributed their mental health and life difficulties following transition— to their inability to pass as the opposite sex in adulthood.

But the Dutch studies that laid the foundation for this protocol were small, lacked control groups, followed participants for only a few years, failed to keep rates of loss to follow up within a clinically negligible level and were deeply methodologically flawed. Despite this, the model was rapidly adopted internationally as the gold standard for pediatric gender care. Before any outcomes were published on the Dutch kids, the practice of transitioning kids was adopted with full confidence in countries like the United States, where the cautious gatekeeping of the original protocol was largely abandoned. Screening criteria were loosened, psychological evaluations were fast-tracked, and transition timelines were compressed. What began as a narrowly defined intervention for a rare group of patients became a mass treatment pathway for any child who expressed discomfort with their sex.

As more clinics adopted the protocol, more children were referred for treatment. As more children were referred, more clinicians trained to meet the need. As medical infrastructure for youth transition expanded, so did public awareness—and with it, parental anxiety that they may not be doing ‘enough’ to ‘help’ their gender non-conforming children, by simply allowing them to grow up without psychosocial or medical intervention. Suddenly, any child questioning their gender could be perceived as a ticking time bomb. The narrative of “better a trans kid than a dead kid” spread, not because the risk of suicide had been proven to be high in non-transitioned children, but because it had become a rhetorical tool to justify medicalization.

In this way, the existence of a medical treatment pathway for gender dysphoric youth created the perception of a crisis of “trans kids not getting the healthcare they needed.” The “trans child” was no longer an anomaly but a potential reality for any child who failed to conform to gender norms, and then– a reality for any kid no matter how gender-conforming they were in childhood, to declare themselves as trans in adolescence, and to find themselves on an operating table where a surgeon carves away at their healthy bodies in a futile attempt to create for their patients, a new metaphysical reality. 

Where once clinicians waited for children with intractable dysphoria to emerge from adolescence before prescribing interventions, they now trained parents, educators and pediatricians, to look for signs of gender nonconformity in children—converting ordinary developmental exploration into medical red flags.

Jazz Jennings became the poster child of this new paradigm. His transition was held up as proof that early medical intervention could be a success story. But what was never mentioned was that Jazz’s transition was not done by the criteria of even the Dutch Protocol. He was socially transitioned in early childhood, long before the onset of puberty, and he began puberty blockers at age 11. Because his male genitals never developed, surgeons later struggled to construct even a functional approximation of female anatomy. Jazz’s experience exposed the flaws in the protocol’s logic: puberty suppression might prevent unwanted physical changes, but it also stunts the very development needed for later surgeries. In trying to erase male puberty, clinicians created new medical challenges—ones Jazz paid the price for.

Almost a decade before Jazz had his penile inversion procedure, the Dutch clinicians already knew that boys with suppressed pubertal development would need a more invasive procedure involving tissue from the colon to make up for the lack of genital development. Yet, for some reason, it doesn’t seem that any of the clinicians treating him were aware of these findings, nor did they make him or his parents, or the public whom they were actively propagandizing to, aware that a more complicated surgery is the inevitable, well-known outcome of early pubertal suppression in juvenile males.

Today, the Dutch Protocol is being re-evaluated even in the country where it began. Dutch clinicians have acknowledged that their original research cannot justify the global expansion of pediatric gender medicine as it has come to exist. Will that stop them from justifying their protocol on other grounds? No. Definitely not. But, systematic reviews in Europe have found that the evidence base for youth transition is weak, and that the risks may outweigh the benefits. The world is beginning to wake up to the harm inflicted upon children in the name of ‘compassion’ and ‘mercy.’

Pediatric social and medical transition protocols were not a response to rising rates of gender dysphoria, nor an ‘uncovering’ of a dysphoric population of kids who always existed but were finally receiving the “‘life-saving” treatment they deserve—it just created lifelong medical patients out of healthy children. Gender medicine, both for kids and for adults, offered solutions that promised to resolve complex psychological distress through medical means, while failing to address the root causes of that distress. And it created an illusion of necessity, when in truth, what had changed was not the metaphysical nature of the children, but the treatments made available to them.

Norman Spack & Ken Zucker: Two Different Treatment Protocols

[ Norman Spack describes “salivating” at the pediatric transition protocols of the Netherlands ]

The rapid shift toward medicalizing childhood gender distress did not happen spontaneously—it had architects. One of the most pivotal was Dr. Norman Spack, a pediatric endocrinologist at Boston Children’s Hospital, who helped bring the Dutch Protocol to North America. After learning of the work being done in the Netherlands, Spack was reportedly so eager to adopt puberty suppression protocols for children that he later described himself as having “salivated” at the idea of blocking puberty in gender dysphoric youth.

Spack opened the first major pediatric gender clinic in the United States in 2007, the same year Jazz Jennings’s story went public. He was not alone in his enthusiasm. By the time Jazz was a toddler, his parents were already being told that puberty blockers would be available to prevent their son from developing into a man. This promise was made long before Jazz reached puberty, long before he had even learned to tie his shoes, and more importantly, long before there was any robust, long-term evidence showing that the Dutch cohort fared better than their non-medicalized peers. The idea that “doing nothing” was cruel—and that intervening medically was compassionate—had already taken root.

[ Ken Zucker— the man, the myth, the legend. ]

This marked a dramatic departure from the predominant therapeutic model of the prior decades, as practiced by clinicians like Dr. Ken Zucker. Zucker, a psychologist at Toronto’s Centre for Addiction and Mental Health (CAMH), focused on helping children explore and potentially resolve their gender distress without affirming them as the opposite sex. His approach—common throughout the 1990s and the 2000s after being practiced in earlier decades—emphasized watchful waiting, play therapy and parenting strategies aimed at reconciling the child with his biological sex—rather than socially transitioning or medically affirming the gender distressed child. Zucker recognized that the vast majority of gender-dysphoric children would ultimately reconcile with their natal sex if left alone, and his research showed this to be true.

His approach was grounded in the simple fact that, at the time, there was no medical intervention to offer these children. Puberty blockers and cross-sex hormones for minors were not yet part of mainstream medical practice. This therapeutic orientation existed not only because it was cautious, but because it was all that existed. Because medical transition was off the table, clinicians were forced to understand gender dysphoria as something that could evolve—and often resolve—over time.

The emergence of puberty blockers as a tool for interrupting development radically altered that framework. Once medical interventions were available, the question was no longer, “How should we help the child learn to accept their body?” but “When do we start altering the body to match the child’s stated identity?” The very presence of a medical option redefined the ethical terrain—and subtly, but powerfully, redefined what was seen as “affirming,” “progressive,” or even “life-saving.”

This shift did not occur because new evidence demanded it, but because a new possibility existed. And it was this possibility—not a genuine explosion in a new strain of particularly intractable childhood gender dysphoria—that drove the ballooning rates of pediatric transition. Once clinicians could prescribe blockers, more parents began to seek them. Once parents began seeking them, more clinics opened. Once clinics opened, more children were diagnosed. And once children were diagnosed, the cycle reinforced itself—bolstered by an uncritical media, ideological activism, and a medical community eager to innovate before fully understanding the consequences of the past experiments done on earlier cohorts of adolescents and adults.

Jazz Jennings was swept into this current at the very beginning. His journey, far from being an organic expression of his inborn “gender identity,” was shaped at every turn by the availability of interventions that had only recently entered the medical arena, and by the burgeoning American obsession with reality TV shows centered around extreme variations within different parenting styles. By the time Jazz’s trajectory was cemented with an early social transition, he no longer fit neatly within the original Dutch Protocol criteria. The practice of early childhood social transition showcased a new ethos– not that many of these kids would naturally grow out of their distress, and that caution is required, but that these children were doomed to never outgrow it. That is, at least, the bold-faced lie which Jazz’s parents allege was told to them by the therapist who diagnosed their toddler with Gender Identity Disorder in 2003.

He had not even reached puberty when the path of medical transition was laid out before him. He never had to contend with the fact that someday he would become a man. By the time he was five, he was fully convinced that his (or his mother’s) childhood fantasy could continue forever.

The story of the “transgender child” is not a story of new, emerging science responding to a medical need that has always existed. It is the story of medicine creating a new patient population—and a society that eagerly embraced it, blind to the harm it might cause– because the “experts” who stood to gain so much in profit by recommending intervention over non-intervention, would begin to develop a bias in the way they approach medicine: to prioritize the short term happiness of a child over his long-term well-being.

Reflections

As I look into Jazz’s story, with an understanding of the way that medical interventions for pediatric gender dysphoria spurred a cultural shift in how we understand the nature of children, I am left with so many more questions.

What really did Jazz Jennings’s parents know about the pathway they were signing their son up for? I know that the Jennings’s were aware of how experimental these interventions are. But, I often wonder whether they even knew that this treatment protocol they were signing their son up for, was pioneered by clinicians in the Netherlands, who had been doing these treatments for less than a decade by that point. I wonder if they were even aware that there were non-medicalized models for treating pediatric gender dysphoria which showed promise, and had been practiced for far longer than the medicalized ones. Were they even made aware that they had options other than “a dead son or a living daughter?”

What exactly did their toddler’s gender therapist tell them about the nature of their son’s condition? I wonder why Jazz’s parents were told by the gender therapist who diagnosed their toddler son with Gender Identity Disorder in 2003, that it was unlikely that their son would outgrow his distress and reconcile with his sex— when everything in the literature of that time suggested the opposite. If this was what the therapist indeed said, this isn’t just a spiritual belief in a gendered soul passed off as medical advice— this is a clinical pathway sold to parents of a toddler on the basis of a bold-faced lie. The dogma that “kids know who they are” would not emerge into popular culture until after Jazz’s social transition as a kindergartener had commenced. Something about this arc of the story is fishy.

Were Jazz’s parents not told that early gender non-conformity is more indicative of a later homosexual outcome than a transsexual one?

Did Jazz Jennings’s endocrinologists not know that early pubertal suppression in juvenile males stunts genital growth and necessitates an even riskier “gender reassignment” surgery? Because the Dutch clinicians who had been suppressing boys’ puberties for about 20 years by the time Jazz got his puberty blocker implanted— certainly did. This ‘side effect’ of pubertal blockade was reported on in a Dutch newspaper. Did no one think to communicate this to…. anyone???

==

Don't underestimate the willingness of his mother - because, let's face it, it's never the father without the mother - to sacrifice her child for fame, money, attention and particularly applause at how virtuous she is.

[wanderingmind867]

Here's my ideas for a Season 4 of Batman 1966: Season Four would get 70-80 episodes, max. I realize I didn't use Catwoman that much, but it wasn't intentional. So forgive me for that one. I did get a lot of Riddler, Penguin, Joker and Bookworm in here, though.

Episodes 1 and 2: Batman and Robin encounter The Riddler, who's dealing with a severe sense of outrage. A popular gotham city tv show has taken to mocking him lately (treating his laughter and his riddles like a joke), and he is not going to take that kind of talk lying down. He's hijacked the TV station, and he's now planning a dramatic variety show revue.

But all is not merely as simple as a case of airwave piracy. No, The Riddler is also doing a telethon to get people to vote on the fate of the Dynamic Duo. Death by electricity? Death by axe? C'mon people, vote now! And the question on every honest citizen's lips is: how are batman and robin going to escape now!?

Episodes 3 and 4: A story involving The Joker (as played by Cesar Romero). Angry that Batman and Robin managed to catch up to him via their Batmobile, he pulls a fake burglary to trap them and steal their priceless getaway car. He then rebuilds it and modifies it to suit his purposes, letting it become a bonafide Jokermobile! Thankfully, Batman and Robin escape (and have a backup, old model batmobile in their Batcave). So now it's an all out drag race between Joker and Batman!

Episodes 5 and 6: A story featuring The Penguin (Burgess Meredith), this time as he seeks to acquire the proper social standing amongst gotham's elite. This might be the first episode where i'd touch on penguin's backstory (that of the heir to an old money family who lost everything years ago). In his quest to prove himself worthy of idolization and of palatial mansions, he ends up trying to rob from all the other millionaires in Gotham. Naturally this eventually ends up leading him to Wayne Manor, where he almost ends up discovering the batcave.

Episodes 7 and 8: Introducing Signalman to the world of Batman '66! Signalman uses his gimmicks to try and trap Batman and Robin, while stealing as many symbols of good fortune as he possibly can. He eventually tries to tie them to the bat-signal at police headquarters, but they still escape and manage to end his patterns of crime.

Episodes 9 and 10: A Batgirl solo saga, focusing on her and her new partner (who she meets in this episode): Jason Bard. Her and Jason end up on the case of Louie the Lilac, who's running an illegal smuggling ring out of flower shops all across gotham. So while Barbara Gordon and Jason Bard begin dating, Batgirl and Jason end up wrapped in the mystery of Louie the Lilac's smuggling scheme.

Episodes 11 and 12: Batman and Robin are preparing to leave for Ivy Town to go see a research seminar, but they're held up by The Bookworm and his criminal gang, who planned to rob Gotham City of a priceless manuscript stored deep within Gotham City Hall. Only the dynamic duo can stop this marvelous mastermind before it's too late!

Episode 13: While Batman and Robin are busy travelling to Ivy Town, Jason Bard ends up hired to protect Miss Harriet Cooper from danger. She's helping organize a Gotham City Policeman's Ball, and she's afraid that all the attention is putting her in danger.

Meanwhile, Barbara Gordon is investigating the same mystery as Batgirl, trying to make sure that her parents aren't hurt in any way either. Batgirl and Jason end up running into each other again, and they decide to team up to protect the policeman's ball (with Batman and Robin away, consider them gotham's new defenders)!

In the end, these two tough investigators find the real crook behind this scheme: Catwoman! The strangest thing happens, though: since Jason and Barbara split up to search seperate areas of the auditorium, they both saw different Catwomen. Batgirl sees the Eartha Kitt one, while Jason Bard sees the Lee Meriwether one. And since both Catwomen successfully escape, Batgirl and Jason are left even more puzzled than ever. And if you're puzzled too, don't worry: the riddle of the three Catwomen will be answered at some later date.

Episodes 14 and 15: Bruce Wayne and Dick Grayson arrive in Ivy Town for the Ivy Town University lecture. It's in this episode that we'd learn about Dick now being in his last year of high school (which is partially why him and bruce have come to visit universities together). At Ivy Town university, Bruce and Dick wind up running into Ray Palmer and Jean Loring (neither of them guessing that Ray Palmer is Batman's fellow JLA member, The Atom).

But at the Ivy Town seminar, the university's clocktower and accompanying bell both go off in a supersonic wave, causing mass hysteria and panic. A panic which some thieves use as cover under which to steal the university's many rare and valuable artifacts.

The people of Ivy Town are quick to blame the supervillian Chronos for this disaster, but it turns out that he's still in the Ivy Town penitentiary. The police check, and he says that he was framed! By who and for what purpose, none can say. But Jean Loring is reluctantly resigned to defending him in court. Meanwhile, Batman and Robin do some investigating of their own. And eventually, the truth comes to light: The true criminal was The Clock King! He sprung himself from jail back in England, and he was all set to make his grand return to supervilliany! How was he to know Batman and Robin would show up again!?

So the Clock King is sent back to jail, and The Atom never had to lift a finger to help Batman and Robin (which is great for the show, since they'd never have had enough effects to make The Atom work). But a scene at the very end of the episode hints at The Clock King working for someone else, and that this isn't the end of the dynamic duo's troubles…

Episode 16: While Batman and Robin are off in Ivy Town, Batgirl and Jason Bard run into Cluemaster (John Astin), a strange new villian who seems to have an odd vendetta against The Riddler. Although The Riddler doesn't actually show up in this episode (beyond maybe a cameo from Frank Gorshin in the last scene of the episode), we learn that Cluemaster is a minor villain who's always held a grudge. He wants to take the title of world's biggest riddle/clue/puzzle themed supervillian away from The Riddler!

They both have different backgrounds: The Riddler was a former GCPD officer who snapped after being constantly bullied for his mental issues and weird habits; while Cluemaster was a game show host who ended up going mocking a contestant on his show to an almost traumatic extent one day, and thus had his show cancelled and his career ruined. But as kids, both these men admired The original master of crime: The Puzzler. And now Cluemaster is trying to prove he's closer to The Puzzler than The Riddler ever was. And now it lies on Batgirl and Jason Bard's shoulders to stop him.

Episodes 17 and 18: Batman and Robin return to Gotham, just in time for a late september scheme hatched by Egghead, that diabolical master of eggs-pert larceny! Batman and Robin need to enlist the end of Batgirl and Jason Bard just to get him to be defeated before he commits the greatest crime of our time and era!

Episodes 19 and 20: Batman and Robin team up with Batgirl to deal with Simon the Pieman (Jonathan Winters), a bizarre criminal with a baking motif who's planning to get vengeance on all the people who criticized his bakery over the years. Can this trio defeat him and his diabolical desserts before it's too late!?

Episodes 21, 22 and 23: This story would be used to address the three catwomen and three mister freezes. The three Mister Freezes are all different men sharing the same name, but they all hate how batman has fouled up their schemes. So they trick Batman, Robin and Batgirl into a devious trap. Catwoman I (Julie Newmar) leads Batman into a trap by Mister Freeze I (George Sanders). Meanwhile, Robin and Batgirl are tricked by Catwoman III (Eartha Kitt) into being trapped by Mister Freeze II (Otto Preminger). And so by the time the three freezes have congregated, they betray the catwomen. And then it's six against three for the last story in our set.

Episodes 24 and 25: In the brisk early October air, False Face steals a new chemical designed to make a human being shapeshift. But one of his men steals it away from him! Matt Hagen (Rich Little), a greedy henchmen of the dastardly False Face, uses the machine and turns himself into a hideous being made of Clay! Remembering the case of an old villian Batman tangled with named Clayface, Matt Hagen decides to embrace his evil side and become Clayface the second!

Episodes 26 and 27: Batman, Robin and Batgirl all end up tangling with The Scarecrow (Anthony Perkins) on Halloween Night! A washed up former psychology teacher with a love for fear, Jonathan Crane has come to haunt Gotham as the one and only Scarecrow!

Episodes 28 and 29: Batman and Robin tangle with Blockbuster (Richard Kiel), a menace who's too mindless to actually mean any harm to anyone or anything. He's being used by his mad scientist brother Roland, but the dynamic duo don't figure that out until it's nearly too late…

Episodes 30 and 31: While hosting a Gotham City Beauty Contest to mark the beginning of November and the subsequent colder season, Batman, Robin and Batgirl tangle with Poison Ivy (Ann Margret), that powerful sorceress of seduction! Using her brilliant botanical wisdom, she snares all three of them inside of a horrible death trap. But they manage to escape, and successfully bring her to Justice.

Episodes 32 and 33: Batman and Robin deal with the Polka Dot Man (Paul Lynde), a bizarre new criminal capable of using polka dots as tools for committing new crimes to bedevil and beguile the people of Gotham City!

Episodes 34 and 35: Marsha, Queen of Diamonds returns to Gotham City, yet again seeking to obtain the Bat-Diamond from the Batcave. This episode would actually show her succeeding, however. Yes, she seemingly manages to steal the Bat-Diamond at the end of part one of this episode. But then she goes to examine it at her headquarters, and she finds out it's actually a fake! An impressively well put together fake, but a fake nonetheless! So once more, the Dynamic Duo have outsmarted the Queen of Diamonds and her witch of an aunt!

Episodes 36 and 37: Batman and Batgirl have to work together to fight off a mad team up of The Penguin and The Riddler. Robin is sick with the flu, so he's unable to help them. So it's up to Batman and Batgirl to save the day this time around!

Episodes 38 and 39: Batman, Robin and Batgirl deal with a counterfeiting ring run by a man named Senor Rekoj. Little do they suspect that Mr. Rekoj is actually Joker in surprise, since he's cunningly convinced the whole city he runs a beautiful charity. And now he's planning the biggest practical joke of the century: he's going to frame the terrific trio and blame them when his counterfeiting scheme comes to light. They still manage to stop him, of course. But he very successfully damages their public perception.

It's also an excuse for me to finally see Cesar Romero star on Batman without his makeup. Because, yes, Senor Rekoj is just Cesar Romero without any of his Joker makeup.

Episodes 40 and 41: A Christmas Special, featuring a series of Christmas Capers pulled off by The Riddler! Batman, Robin, Batgirl and Jason Bard all have to team up to defeat the foe this time. The Riddler is the one leading this scheme, but he's mostly breaking in a new tradition i'd want the show to have: Christmas episodes. And plenty of them. One every year, so we can have as many villians as possible trying to ruin Christmas.

But for this debut christmas special (where our four heroes face off against The Riddler and his men), the Mall Santa who's introduced at the beginning of the episode ends up helping to save the day. And in the end, it's left rather unclear if the mall santa was just a mall santa, or if they were the real santa all along…

Episodes 42, 43 and 44: Batman is challenged by his most dastardly foes yet; a terrible trio of crooks from Gotham's distant past! The Eraser, The Getaway Genius and Killer Moth! Batman hasn't tangled with them in years, not since the days of… Batwoman. Back when Robin was younger (a few years before the show started), Kathy Kane was a rich socialite who teamed up with Batman to fight crime. But she retired after an awful case involving Killer Moth. Yet now, she may be Gotham's only hope for surviving the Triumvirate's terror!

Episodes 45 and 46: Batman was set on edge by the Triumvirate (and by Batwoman's return), so he's gone on a brief vacation to the countryside to try and clear his head. While he's off on vacation, two different teams have to protect Gotham from ill will. Robin and Batwoman are who we're gonna focus on first. While Batman's away, they end up having to deal with Doctor Double-X, a horrible foe from years past, capable of creating duplicates of himself to fight his battles for him!

Episodes 47 and 48: Batgirl and Jason Bard end up having to deal with a new scheme by two of gotham's worst criminals: The Bookworm and Mister Camera (Tony Randall). They've started a dual crime wave, wherein Mister Camera delegitimizes the Gotham City Police Force, allowing Bookworm to run wild and free throughout Gotham. Batgirl insists on taking up this case solo, as it involves people trying to frame her father (something she can't stand for). And Jason Bard is dragged into it because he's been hired to investigate it.

Episode 49 and 50: Batman was off on vacation in the countryside just outside Gotham, when he accidentally ends up getting snared in a trap set by Olga, Queen of the Cossacks! She's moved on from Batman and Egghead, however. Yes, now she's partners with Catman, a big game hunter who lives for the thrill of the hunt. Catman appeals to Olga's warrior nature, and so they make a delightful team.

Catman and Olga prepare a death trap for Batman involving a fight with a massive tiger in a steep pit, but shockingly, Catwoman (Julie Newmar) comes to his rescue. Not for any altruistic reason, but mainly because she has a personal grudge against Catman. All three Catwomen hate him, and he hates them in kind. So this is really just an alliance of mutual benefit. Batman gets to deal with Olga, while Catwoman takes down Catman.

In the end, Olga and Catman are delivered to the authorities, but Catwoman successfully escapes. Which probably means this isn't the last time we'll see her (or one of her other two "partners" before the season is out).

Episodes 51 and 52: Robin and Batwoman team up to fight against Shame and his wife Calamity Jan. They've assembled a giant underground railroad system, and they plan to use it to tunnel into all the banks in Gotham! Can Batwoman and Robin clue in to their scheme in time?

Episodes 53 and 54: Batman comes back to Gotham just in time to learn of a new scheme being hatched by The Penguin, that crooked bird of crime. Frustrated and upset that his schemes on land have all been failing, Penguin has decided to turn to the high seas, running a piracy operation just outside of gotham's territorial waters. Batman, Robin and Batgirl have to stop him, before he can become the world's biggest pirate since Blackbeard or Captain Kidd!

Episodes 55 and 56: The Joker and Simon the Pieman team up to bring bizarre chaos to Gotham City; using elaborate cakes as weapons of destruction. Batman, Robin and Batgirl have to team up to solve the motive behind their mysterious and completely illogical crimes, before it's too late…

Episodes 57 and 58: Batman and Robin end up dealing with a new scheme by The Riddler, that prince of puzzlers himself. He's hatched a new mad scheme, and only Batman and Robin can stop him from bringing it to fruition. It all involves riddles in the form of morse code, to present the dynamic duo with an extra difficult new challenge.

Episodes 59 and 60: Batman, Robin and Batgirl have to handle a new crime wave by Catwoman. She leads our terrific trio on a mad chase all throughout the city, as she's hunting for a hidden cat's eye ruby apparently buried somewhere underneath Gotham City. A harmless enough crime, one would think. But as the hunt for Catwoman continues, it becomes clear she's willing to do anything to get her hands on this statue. Anything.

Episodes 61 and 62: A new TV show is airing in cities across the nation. A show about "The Black Knight", a violent and brooding vigilante who punishes criminals with his sword of darkness. Bruce Wayne and Dick Grayson watch it with Aunt Harriet one night, and they're appalled. Bruce and Dick are also shocked though, since the villians of the show appear to be modelled after Commissioner Gordon and Chief O'Hara.

Batman and Robin go to investigate the show, but they're trapped by the criminals behind the whole thing: Clayface and False Face. They were using the show's violent themes to promote a culture of violence citywide, and then they'd use their powers of disguise to instigate riots amongst the people of Gotham. The Black Knight would usurp Gotham's Caped Crusader in popularity, and then the city would be theirs for the taking! But unfortunately Batman and Robin found them out, and now all their schemes have come to naught.

Episodes 63 and 64: Batman, Robin, Batgirl and Jason Bard team up to fight off a gang war between Louie the Lilac and Poison Ivy. It turns out these two have some really personal grudges against each other, and Ivy clearly wants this man off her turf. So this tense standoff has to be resolved by our four heroes, before anything else goes disastrously wrong.

Episodes 65, 66 and 67: Batman has to go up against The Riddler, Cluemaster and The Puzzler, all of whom have gone on the attack against each other. There can only be one king of puzzles/riddles/clues, and they won't stop until one of them has successfully defeated the other!

Episodes 68 and 69: While Batman deals with the three puzzling champions, Batgirl and Robin end up fighting against The Bookworm and Scarecrow, both of whom have teamed up to try and steal some rare manuscripts for old time classic horror novels. It might be in this story that we get the first hints that robin is beginning to feel stifled by batman's authority. He wants to fly somewhat independently. To prove himself to Batman.

Episodes 70 and 71: Batman and Robin have to defeat The Joker, when he decides to challenge them to a game of wits. He commits crimes using the gimmicks of other criminals, and thusly tries to lure them off his trail. It almost works, until Batman and Robin finally get wise to the scheme.

Episodes 72 and 73: Batman and Robin have to deal with the one thing they never expected: The Penguin successfully seduces Aunt Harriet. She falls in love with him, and Penguin begins using this to try and capture a piece of the Wayne fortune. Batman and Robin have to somehow find a way to stop him, but how? When he's so close to their home ground, how can they possibly stop him!?

Episodes 74 and 75: Batman and Robin have to deal with King Tut, who's once again relapsed into his horrible criminal ways. He plans to flood Gotham City with sand, to finally bring the beautiful desert of thebes back to him. A pharaoh needs a home. And by Ra, he will make Gotham his new home!

After this, Season Four ends. Then we'd have the two animated movies (The Return of the Caped Crusaders and Batman vs Two-Face), and we'd also have the third movie which we were promised but which Adam West died before he could film (we were teased a film project with Harley Quinn, according to the Batman vs Two Face wikipedia page). So we'd have the Harley Quinn story (which might also feature Hugo Strange), and then we'd move into Season Five, where we'd introduce the League of Assassins. And after their story, I might consider having Dick Grayson leave for college. Because I want a pre-crisis Jason Todd in this show eventually, and I will reluctantly have Dick Grayson begin taking a more supporting role in order to get to that. But so far, i'm pretty happy with what i have here.

[bbyobbyo]

To Mingyu, you were perfect. It was no wonder he was drawn to you when his long time best friend and roommate introduced you to him as his partner. Alas, you were perfect but you weren't his.

content: angst, fluff if you squint, suggestive (no actual depictions of sex), unrequited love, pining, gyu is a simp

wc: 729

notes: second attempt hehe, thank you everyone who read my vernon fic! feedback is appreciated, i'm still new here 😔👉👈

Truthfully, there was no better person for you than Wonwoo. Mingyu could at least admit that much. You complimented each other like yin and yang, supporting and uplifting one another in harmony. You were the much needed ray of sunshine and motivation in his life, and he was the structure and inspiration you wanted in yours. Over time your presence became a welcome constant in his life, first by association, then seemingly by necessity.

"She is the best thing to ever happen to me" his roommate would exclaim constantly, and Mingyu couldn't help but agree.

He tried to be happy for his friend, he really did. After all, why wouldn't he want the people he loves to be happy? It wasn't like he didn't want you visiting the apartment constantly, always with a delicious treat to share in hand. Nor did he dislike your genuine attempts to get to know him as a person, asking about his preferences and aspirations in life. In fact, it bothered him more and more that he wished you came over more often, even when his roommate wasn't home.

It was tortuous to hear the sounds in the apartment when you and Wonwoo thought he was asleep. Heavy moans and muted whines haunt his brain on those long nights filled with tossing and turning. The next morning he tries his best to pretend like he didn't see the hickeys littered on your neck just barely covered by your hair when he ran into you making breakfast. And yet, when you ask if he had a good night's sleep with an offer of making an extra serving for him, he doesn't have the heart to tell you the truth. That he spent the entire night wishing it was him in the bed next to you instead.

-

The day the world came crashing down on him was the day Wonwoo had told him about his plan to propose to you. An evening surrounded by his 12 closest friends that you have also come to adore, how perfect. It was so perfect that he didn't even have to think twice when saying yes when Wonwoo asked him to help film the entire affair.

"I trust you over Seokmin any day, that man can't keep a secret for his life. But if you tell her it's for a personal project, she won't suspect a thing!" he chuckles.

"Yeah," Mingyu mumbles back, not quite meeting his friend's eyes, "she won't see it coming."

-

Mingyu thinks he's going insane. There were hundreds, maybe even thousands of photos from tonight and yet he's enamored by this one. You're absolutely dazzling, looking at the camera like you just discovered the lens, eyes turned into crescents and smiling cheek to cheek. How long has he waited for you to smile at him like that? And the first time you do, he's behind a camera. At your fucking wedding reception of all places.

"You like her." His head snaps up from the viewfinder.

"What?"

His older friend snakes a gentle hand on over his shoulder. "You like her, don't you?" Seungcheol repeats, voice barely above a whisper.

Mingyu says nothing, slowly directing his gaze back downwards at the camera, screen stuck on the photo of you he took only a few moments ago. He can't do anything but sigh. Seungcheol's expression softens, giving his younger friend's shoulder a knowing squeeze.

"It gets better."

God, he sure hopes it does.

-

Mingyu's attention fades in and out when you're reading your vows. It's ironic that on one of the happiest days of your life, he finds it impossible to focus on you when it feels like that's all he's done for years. It was a welcome distraction, however. He can't decide what would destroy him more: listening to you profess your love to someone that wasn't him, or knowing that you meant every word. You end your monologue gracefully with a small smile, holding back a sob as the groom begins his.

"You're the best thing to ever happen to me," Wonwoo begins, voice breaking as he bites back his own tears.

In another time, another place, Mingyu would've agreed with him. But in this moment, as you look at his best friend like he's the center of your whole world, Mingyu decides that you might have been the worst thing that's ever happened to him.

[kojandra]

✨dramas i watched in 2024 and my ratings for them✨

May contain spoilers <3

1. A Shop for Killers, ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️ Oh this has set the bar for 2024 already....where is next season!!! Had me hooked I didn't even realize it was a series and not a movie. Only complaint is that it needs to be longer!

2. Doctor Slump ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️ Watched it for the mains but fell in love with the characters. Burnout talk is necessary and I loved seeing Ha Neul's mom/family grow...as a family. The acceptance of Jeong Woo and his story was so so heartwarming and heartbreaking. I would have ate this up three years ago, but I feel like I've seen this before.

3. Flex x Cop ⭐️⭐️⭐️ Nice story that kept me engaged though a bit cheesy! A fun watch but I feel like it will not my best "fun" watch this year.

4. Queen of Tears ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️ all the rom com tropes and soo hyun x ji won .....need I say more?

5. Military Prosecutor Doberman ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️ Decided to try another one of Ahn Bo Hyun's drama after Flex x Cop was not a hit. This was MUCH better. I learned a lot about military corruption....but something isn't hitting.

5. The Whirlwind ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️.5 Okay, political dramas are Kim Hee Ae's THING bc this was so good. Only thing I hated was that her character was a bit weak in such crucial times....opposite of what she preached and not very girl boss of her smh.

6. Connection ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️ Watched it for Mi Do but oh my godddd????? A story about friendship in sick and twisted way that I can't help but love. Beginning to end...pacing was amazing, casting amazing, binged it so hard....wish I could watch it for the first time again.

7. The Frog ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️ (ngl i watched this for chanyeol). Did I just watch a masterclass in acting or what!? Must watch. But I am also in a thriller/murder mystery vibe this year I guess.

8. Collectors (Movie, 2020) ⭐���⭐️⭐️⭐️.5 no 'cause why did I like that??? A story about a corporate chairman that likes dynasty relics and a group of grave diggers that are hired to find a very specific relic. That's all I'll say. But c'mon....

9. Good Partner ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️ The last divorce law drama I watched was Divorce Attorney Shin, I believe (highly rec that one if you like law dramas!). Attorney Shin focused a lot on the main character's personal vengeance and this one focuses on the job itself. Justice for

10. Sweet & Sour (Movie, 2021) ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️ Girl, just watch it. Quick synopsis: how a couple navigates a long term relationship. I thought this was gonna be fun and not that deep but oh myyyyy I was seated. Watch until the end!!!

11. Love Next Door ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️ Oh they're so cute. They're so cute! The last time I saw Hae-In was in D.P. and this was so refreshing. Neighbourhood friends....fall in love? Sign me up!!! Took off a star because the characters got on my nerves after a while. Seung-ho loser era was not cool!!

12. Miss Night and Day ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️.5 Watched for Lee Jung Eun and Choi Jin Hyuk but got hooked! Fantasy drama about a 28 year old that cannot seem to pass the civil exam and find a job. She got possessed by her dead Aunt though. That's when the fun starts ;) Annoying last two episodes though....

13. Work Later, Drink Now ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️ If you liked Hello, My Twenties! you will LOVE this. Loved this trio. Watch it! (Slice of life-esque).

14. Work Later, Drink Now 2 ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️ Something different but the same magic as the first series. Love the introduction of new characters and their significance in the girls' lives. Important character development too. Fight and then make up! That's life.

15. Mr. Plankton ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️ Took off a star not because it was bad, but because it was so SAD. Must watch for this pairing and this chemistry. It's currently January 9th...as I'm looking through this list.....I got reminded again how sad this drama was. NEVER again.

16. Virtuous Business ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️ This was a fun! one! I loved seeing the friend group develop. The need for a thriller sub plot in all dramas is killing me though ahhaha

17. Marry My Husband ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️ binged this and honestly wTF just happened? That was so good LOL. All the characters the viewer is supposed to hate is just soooo hateable. Good on MC! For living her life!

18. The Judge from Hell - y'all I dropped it. It got repetitive :( But it was so good at the start. Not my cup of tea, I guess.

18. When the Phone Rings ⭐️⭐️⭐️ Honestly this was about to be a five star in December. I waited until the last episode aired to finish this list. Chemistry was off the charts, story was so wattpad but I ate it up, pacing was soooo good.....but..........all of a sudden there were two episodes that had their own crazy story line at the end. Using an ongoing genocide for plot rubs me the wrong way, I cannot get over that.

Dramas from this list I'll rewatch in the future: A shop for killers, queen of tears, miss night and day, work later drink now

[bubbleddisasters]

Since Y’all liked the last one, heres something somewhat similar:

TWST Characters as funny / random ass moments with my friends/family

———-

Ace : A good friend of mine made an entire Cards against Humanity Deck including us, and we played it at like 4 am.

Also, one of my closest childhood friends of now 11 years, the way we first met was he insulted me, and then thirty minutes later I peeked at his notebook while he was drawing (our beds were next to eachother) recognized Sans from a meme, and then managed to bullshit through an entire conversation about Undertale without him suspecting I didn’t know what the hell I was talking about.

I made a joke about it a little less then a year ago, thinking he knew by now, but no. He looks at me and the conversation goes:

“Are you telling me our entire first interaction was you just fucking improvising through a discussion of a fandom you didn’t know shit about?”

“Wait you didn’t know?”

“NO?!”

“You genuinely believed that I knew what I was talking about then for 10 years?!?”

“Surprisingly, yes.”

Deuce: I was biking with my sister, and she accidentally biked straight into a fucking lake. Also when my dad looked me dead in the eye after receiving one of my graded tests and goes

“How the fuck do you answer Maine four times on different questions and be wrong for all four times.”

Bonus Adeuceyuu combo: Me and two of my childhood friends once linked together to grab something we saw in a river, turns out it was just a broken fishing rod.

Also another on me and the above two friends meeting: The first thing one of them did was insult me, and I genuinely have zero memory of how I met the other.

Basically, we met at a sleepaway camp as kids, and for some reason, our sleepaway camp had some wackass shit, but one of them was this game. I don’t remember the name of it, but you had to go in groups of 3-4 and tie ribbons around each staff tent/cabinside without getting caught (and keep in mind each campsite and Cabins were very spread apart) at midnight, and the first to return to the cafeteria, where the staff were waiting, and did so after tying them all, on won.

Kids age 12-17, in the middle of fuck knows where in the woods Long Island, running around in the dark unsupervised with only any light bringing items they brought themselves.

So me, and we’ll call them C and M, teamed up. It’d take too long to go into full detail, but it was a very Prologue Mines fused with Camp Vargas core adventure.

Bonus First year gang in general : Me and three friends were waiting for something I genuinely don’t remember in an abandoned dorm area and got extremely bored, and one of them could do a perfect Donald Duck impression, and another a really good goofy, and this somehow led to us having a fake reality tv show verbal bitchfight as Donald, Goofy, Mickey and Minnie for a solid hour. We all regretted not recording it.

Cater: My friend from Wales entirely forgot about the existence of timezones and called me in the middle of my history class. Her ringtone at the time was just a clip of her screaming “Bread”.

How my teacher didn’t figure out who’s phone it was is beyond me.

Trey : Made Russian Roulette Spilt Cupcakes for a large group of my friends, and one is allergic to strawberries, while another’s favorite is, so I very specifically placed the strawberry filled one on the complete other side of the table with the intention of slipping it in after she picked her two.

Some fucking how, she ended up with the Strawberry one, which I had tied with a bow (basically the ones with bows mean they contain an allergen, and the color is the allergen. Ex: Strawberry was BRIGHT FUCKING PINK.) I’m to this day not exactly sure how, but my best guess is she traded hers with whoever originally got the Strawberry one before we ate.

Luckily, I told her partner, who had been my baking partner in crime and convinced me to add in the strawberry after I said it might be a bad idea, to bring two epi pens just incase.

Riddle : I am around 5’3, and I had a friend (?) who was 6’2-3 in middle school. We had almost the blatant definition of a Floyd and Riddle Dynamic, but he’d out of the blue be extremely sweet to me (kinda like that comic in the anthology), only on days I was going through shit. When I tell you I genuinely thought I was hallucinating when he did though-

Also, I yelled at him for nailing, yes, NAILING, a flag on the ceiling reading :”el sábado es para los chicos” (Saturday is for the boys) In the fucking Spanish classroom. Since nobody was as tall as him and the janitors didn’t notice it, it was there for like a week.

Che’nya : My friend and I have an ongoing inside joke where whenever we spot the other through a window in the hallway, we text the other “behind you” or “to your__”

Leona : I brought a pillow with a silk pillow case (gift from my mom) to a sleepover once, and my friend went “You trust leaving me in the room with this?” and I genuinely responded “Its a pillow, why wouldn’t I trust you.” entirely forgetting that Silk can be pretty expensive.

I felt so bad bro.

Ruggie : My friend once dared me to get a one plate of everything during a party. I misinterpreted this and brought a mostly to full plate of each thing, including water bottles.

Turns out they meant balance one of everything on a single plate.

I did not, infact, return the seven brownies, four cupcakes, two cookies, twelevish tangerines, popcorn and god knows how many grapes, but everything else was returned or snatched by friends.

Jack: My friend was throughly convinced she knew where she was going when we got lost outside at one of the biggest malls in fucking America, and we ended up walking a good 4/6th of the perimeter before finding the target (the store, we were still fucking lost) , which we called her mom to pick us up at.

Bonus: My friend, a few dormmates and I were at Starbucks and this random woman comes up to my friend and goes “Hey, they got my order wrong, want my drink?” and I was literally trying to give him this face of “BAD IDEA”. Yea so he ignored the obvious and drank the whole fucking thing and was bouncing off the walls for the rest of the day. (This one could also work for Jamil I suppose.)

Floyd : I was once walking with a friend of mine and jokingly said Trees are giant salads.

This motherfucker breaks off a branch of the nearest tree, takes a fatass bite, drops it, and goes “I want a refund.”

Jade : Randomly got interrogated my mushroom hunters—-

(I kind you the fuck not, MUSHROOM. HUNTERS. Basically, they go out to hunt/find/ forage for rare mushrooms. Atleast thats what they told us?! I wasn’t paying much attention, I was busy petting their dog tbh)

—While camping, my friend and I had zero clue what they were talking about, so she just pointed in a random direction and they thanked us and left.

The same friend also introduced me to mica, but always called them Mermaid Scales, and we more than once walked around in the water looking for them, I was the only one that would literally stop mid-trail to pick some up though. I have a massive collection.

Also she never let me live down the fact I once trapped myself in my tent with fucking dental floss overnight just to see if I could, then couldn’t undo it in the morning, and our adult / guide / trying to keep us alive person had to cut me out with a knife.

Azul : This one very specific time as a kid I was talking to two identical twins, who were standing on each side of me, wearing the same outfits but color reversed, and nearly had an internal breakdown trying to remember which was which, so I just did verbal gymnastics around using their names.

We later literally spent two hours fighting for ours lives together and I shit you not I STILL COULDNT REMEMBER THEIR FUCKING NAMES.

Kalim : Went shopping with my badass grandma and somehow left with a Second Hand Valentino (the brand) dress for $50 and a free bracelet one of the employees gave me because ….I actually don’t know.

Also, I got trapped on a really high up indoor water slide with my sister because the water entirely stopped (we learned later the water machine tied to that ride blew up) , and where we were was like a weird slope like between two drops. We couldn’t get back up, and going down was too risky without water bcs we could go splat.

There was like a window ish on the ride, so like a smart 8 year old, I start calling for help at the top of my lungs. My sister (10) also did this. There was this guy who I guess heard us that we nicknamed Chad because he looked like the most stereotypical 2000’s beach movie love interest lifeguard and was dramatically looking around for where the voices were coming from but NEVER LOOKED UP??

Anyway, My sister got us out in the end because she found a hatch and managed to open it, and I shit you not there was a spiral staircase with a gigantic fucking sign reading “DO NOT CLIMB STAIRCASE.”

So obviously, my sister chucks me across the gap onto the staircase and then jumps over herself, and we end up spending another 40 minutes after that fiasco trying to find our parents while i’m pretty sure Chad was trying to find us.

After the 40 minutes we just assumed we were now orphans and went back to where we left our keycard and low and behold our parents had just come back from wherever they had fucked off to.

Also Chad found us and felt super bad, and bought us a smore cake?!? Someone throw him back in time to be his destined role as an extra in Teen Beach Movie. The cake was great though, but that was one hell of an 8th birthday lmao.

Jamil : My friend from India (jokily) Divorced me after my dumbass asked her if Chai was an ingredient used in Chai Tea.

Spoiler Alert : Chai IS THE TEA. Apparently, asking for Chai Tea is the equivalent of saying “Can I have some Tea Tea please.”

Yea safe to say I felt real stupid in that moment.

Epel : My sister once locked me in the bathroom so she could test her new makeup on me. She left for one second and I kid you not I snuck out of the window.

Random bonus : Me and my cousins for some reason ended up roughhousing outside after one of our older cousins weddings, and I judo flipped a whole ass 17 year old man at age 12 and I felt so powerful in that moment.

Also If you saw about the ranch in the previous post, me that gang had an anonymous cookie provider who would leave us two tins of fresh cookies every day around 12ish pm, usually behind the kitchen or outside the equipment shack.

Yes, we tried to catch them once, No, we didn’t succeed. Also nobody wanted to risk loosing cookie privileges, so we didn’t try again.

Rook: Once scared the living shit out of my online friend by texting him “I am now several miles closer to your location.” . He lives in South America, and I happened to be in Florida with a friend, so I thought i’d be funny.

Vil : I was going to a cosplay convention with a friend, and instead of bringing like a normal amount of makeup, my indecisive ass brought basically a whole suitcase worth of it.

Also won a costume competition at my boarding school for Halloween, and wasn’t even aware there was a competition until the year after, when a good half or more of my dormmates asked me to do their makeup because they’d heard I was really good at it.

Idia: Ok, so, long story, but my friend invited me and two mutual friends to see Sweeney Todd on Broadway w/ the og cast. However, I was the only one who didn’t know we were going anywhere, because he thought his mom told my dad we were going to see Sweeney Todd, while my dad thought my friend told me, but also he was suspiciously alluding to it, maybe unintentionally

So I show up in a blue hoodie with a bad pun on it, mildly ripped sweatpants, mismatched socks and bright rainbow crocs. Not very “going to watch a musical about cannibalism and Serial Killers” attire. But it gets worse.

So around the 3/4ths into the first act is when I usually get snacks at musicals or plays, since they’re usually just finished setting up and theres no line, so I’m in and out and don’t miss much.

Well, I did that as usual, and its important to know we had front row balcony seats, because…

I slipped on my friends playbill on the way to my seat, and my fucking left croc went flying down into the seats below us, and hit an older woman in the head right at Sweeney did the first oofing, and the stage lights go red for a moment in this scene.

I felt so bad, and was literally too embarrassed to go get the shoe myself, so one of my friends got it for me. Apparently the lady thought it was somewhat funny (thank fucking goodness)

Ortho : My sister and I were biking once, and found out some reason the coats we had (school merch from field day I think). had the biggest fucking hidden pockets known to man.

So the next time we went out, she for some reason decided to put our dads entire laptop in there.

Also bonus: My friend once invited me over to their house to help with their costume, and when I came over, the costume was literally a gigantic trash can. No, not the actual object, They were literally making a giant trashcan costume.

I helped but still remained mildly confused in the process.

Malleus : I had a good friend who lived next to a graveyard, and sometimes we would just go on nice walks in the graveyard.

Lilia: Another Wilderness one: We were making Pasta, and one of the guys in our group was playing with a large thing of moss, tripped, and the moss got into the fucking pasta.

One guide said “Nature Consequence, we can still eat it” while the other screamed they were going to get fired.

Also, me and a friend were singing bo-burnham on a hike, and for some reason we had this stupid ass idea of making a fake fishing rod called…..

“The Child Catcher.”

(The irony ony of us both being 14 at the time so technically we were children)

We found a good fishing rod like stick and a vine, tied a vine on, and I kid you not we carried that thing for MILES. We also made a fork with a flatly shaped stick and a rock named Reddie.

Yea living in the woods does somethin to ya I gotta say.

Bonus: One of my childhood friends had a very giant dog, and one time we had a sleepover, she was laying infront of the other side of the door when we woke , and because of the way the door was, we couldn’t get through.

So my genius solution was to climb out the window (this was on the second floor) , Cha-Cha real smoothed to the nearest other window, go through there, and lure the dog away with a treat.

It worked.

Silver: Went to this make your own dipped popsicle thing with a good friend of mine, and watched in pure horror as she got a mango popsicle dipped in dark chocolate and rolled in fruity pebbles.

Another one: I was at a Sleepover and there was this tent like thing that was meant for tiny people (aka me, not really it was for toddlers but I was small enough to fit at the time), and at some point in the middle of the night, someone tripped on the tent and it entirely collapsed on me, and not only did I sleep through it, I ended up being the last person to wake up because they all saw the tent collapsed and assumed I was already awake.

Also I was camping once and I rolled away from my tarp and somehow down a road, and my friend said when she found me there was just several butterflies and caterpillars on me. I originally didn’t know but I found a caterpillar on my head that morning and apparently it was poisonous (I was fine and I named him Bob)

Sebek: I was in an escape room with some friends, and I discovered that a key we had gotten in the very beginning worked on another lock, so I did that, and later one of my loud friends finds a key and is SPIRALING because she can’t find what it unlocks for like 30 minutes, and after several minutes I realized, unintentionally slammed my hand on a desk and screamed “OH SHIT.” with zero context.

That experience was actually my first time in a escape room with friends, and not my family or a bunch of drunk strangers in suits + my concerned mother.

Second years : My friends in the priorly mentioned group consisted of who I’ll call N, who was doing 70% of the work, we had R, who was angrily searching for the lock to the key, we had T, the birthday boi, who was randomly making jokes about the 1930s, S, who genuinely forgot he had a key item in his pocket, and A, who dramatically serenaded the paintings after misinterpreting a clue and me, who kept accidentally unlocking shit ahead of time.

Third Years: Prior to the other mentioned event, we had gone to a small improv event that ended up being just us, and the poor guy running it kept giving us scenarios and random conditions which we would absolutely make the craziest shit from.

If I remember correctly, one of the skits was we were supposed to be a school board, and the condition was when someone said an idea, you had to say yes.

The result? a organ harvesting business thats front was a school, and everytime someone got detention, one organ of theirs was sold, and the funds went into funding the biogenetically engineered creation of Hatsune Miku and Cat Boys.

For some reason this skit also led somehow into atomic glitter and cocaine missiles, selling souls on Ebay with express shipping, using Sephora Products and Instagram to spread our propaganda, making meme complications of our crimes, and nuking the Bermuda Triangle.

Ask no questions because I have no answers.

——————————-

Yea thats it for now! Enjoy!

:3

[coff33andb00ks]

Recipe for the Perfect Christmas 10/12

One part small town girl coming home from the big city. One part handsome stranger. Five parts lifelong friends (don't forget to include their partners). One part stubborn father. A dash of Christmas spirit. Part: Ten of Twelve Pairing: Oscar Piastri x ofc (with appearances from Mark Webber. Lando Norris, Carlos Sainz, Esteban Ocon, Pato O'Ward, and George Russell) wc: 5,668 warnings: none? a little emotional soundtrack: spotify ⋆❆⋆ apple music nav: One | Two | Three | Four | Five | Six | Seven | Eight | Nine | Ten | Eleven | Twelve

Lift the bundle from the crock. Untie and remove cheesecloth. Brush with liquor and syrup mixture. Wrap in waxed paper. Place in box. Seal. Wrap and fasten with red ribbon. Affix tag. Add to stack.

Repeat.

The steady, repetitive task kept Natalie's mind blank. The kitchen reeked of fruitcake and the liquor and syrup. She had purposefully chosen non-Christmas music to play on her phone, though had somehow missed a couple carols on her playlist. Adding another cheesecloth to the pile, she picked up the brush and dipped it into the bowl, sweeping the syrup over the top of the cake then sliding it onto the waxed paper.

She couldn't hear anything above the music playing in her ears but knew the moment the back door opened. She wasn't sure if it was because of the cold air that slipped into the kitchen, or the shadow that moved in her peripheral vision. Pausing in her task, she held her breath, finally turning to see her father washing his hands in the sink. He didn't say a word, even after she removed her earbuds, and she felt the pain in the silence as he took another fruitcake from the large crock.

They worked without speaking. She remembered a long-ago night when they had worked in this fashion. When the air had been thick with the words she had already said and the silence had been painful. The only difference was that they were both a little older.

As he placed the last fruitcake on the counter, she felt a pang in her chest. The last fruitcake was always taken home. It was the only one he allowed himself, even though it was his favorite holiday treat and hers, too. He wrapped it meticulously in the waxed paper, as those for customers had been wrapped, then paused.

Natalie furrowed her brow when he unfolded the paper and reached for one of the knives on the magnetic strip. She wanted to ask what he was doing, but it was obvious he was going to slice into the fruitcake. Despite his self-imposed rule that it wait for Christmas Eve, when it would be enjoyed with his best brandy after getting back from the candlelight service at church. She watched the knife glide through the cake, watched the slices cascade, then watched him set the knife down.

"I don't have my brandy," he said.

"It's not Christmas Eve," she pointed out.

"Are you gonna be here then?" he asked.

Her breath caught, and she thought of her laptop, which she'd left on the kitchen table, email open on the job offer. "I will."

"Then we'll take another one home for then." He picked up a slice and looked at it.

"Two fruitcakes for yourself?"

"Why the hell not."

Natalie bit her lip, waiting for him to bite into the slice. When he didn't, she frowned.

"Did I ever tell you where I got this recipe?" he asked, still staring at it.

"I don't think so."

"It was in your mother's family. Started as a Christmas pudding with her great-great-grandmother in England, and when they came here they adapted it. Her mother perfected it. It was the one thing I'd never been able to do right, and when we got married, she and your Nana showed me how to do it properly." He sighed. "It was the third-best thing she ever gave me."

"What were first and second?"

"Second was her love and partnership over the twenty-two years we had together." He turned, holding the slice of fruitcake out to her.

She took it, knowing just by touch and smell that it had been prepared perfectly. "What was the first?"

"You."

"Oh, Dad," she whispered, vision blurring with tears. She wasn't a gift. She was a nightmare. She'd left him at the worst possible time, had distanced herself for years, and had only come back because she had no choice. And her knee-jerk reaction when she got upset had been to do the exact same thing. But it occurred to her that if she took the job in Atlanta and left, that she wouldn't be welcomed back so warmly. "I think you're wrong."

"I never thought I was."

"Even when I left?"

"Especially then."

"How?" she asked, setting the slice down. She didn't deserve a bite. "How could you still think I was great when I basically told you to take this place and shove it?"

"Because you're my child. And I'll always love you. I'll always be proud of you."

She shook her head. "I'm nothing to be proud of. I've had how many jobs? I either choose a place about to go bankrupt or a company I don't fit in with—"

"That's just bad luck, Natalie."

"How many punches on my bad luck card do I have to get before I get some good luck?" Natalie shook her head again and pushed away from the counter. "Ever since Mom died, I've spiraled like water in a toilet before it flushes down."

"You think you're the only one?" he asked, scowling. "You think you're the only person this world craps on? Grow up. People around the world have it worse in a day than you have in a year."

She gaped at him, not sure if she was insulted by or surprised by his outburst.

"There are folks out there who don't know where their next meal is coming from. Families that have to choose between keeping the lights on or putting food on the table for the week. People get kicked out of their supposedly loving homes because of who they're attracted to or what they do or don't believe in and have to fend for themselves. Kids that are sick and dying but can't get the help they need."

"I know," she said. "But—"

"You've never had to worry about any of that. Because of this place," he said, gesturing around them. "Because my grandparents chose this little spot to settle after they got married, and because they put years of blood and sweat and tears and love into this dump. And then your grandparents stepped in and kept it going. When prices had to go up and sales slacked off, we went without just to keep this place open. Then it was my turn, and when you came along I swore that I would do everything I could to make sure you never had to want for anything."

"Dad—"

"You're allowed to be selfish. I know when you're down how hard it is to see that it could be so much worse. But you don't have it so bad. There's a roof over your head and you didn't have to pay for your schooling." He inhaled then exhaled shakily. "I wanted you to take over for me when it was my turn to hang up my apron, because it's the family business. And yes, it hurt like hell when you told me you'd rather do anything else, but I knew I had to let you go."

"I'm sorry," she whispered. She didn't know what else to say.

"I'm sorry that you're upset because I'm selling the place. But I'm not sorry I'm doing it. You don't want it. Max does. And he'll be successful, because he loves this almost as much as I do."

"Does he?"

"He does. I told him I'd take down all the old stuff and he insisted it stay. He doesn't want to change it. He said…" Her father paused, closing his eyes briefly. "He said there are lifetimes of memories on the walls and he wouldn't dream of wiping them away."

"He's right." Anywhere she looked she could pull up a memory. The counter, currently stacked with fruitcakes, wiped clean and being dusted with flower so her mother could teach her how to knead. The row of knives on the magnetic strip, which she had taken down once a week so her father could sharpen them. It was a physical rolodex of memories, good and bad, and so was the shopfront, where she had spent the afternoons of her childhood. "I grew up in this building."

"I know you did."

"It was the last place I saw Mom." She stared in the direction of the back door, which her mother had pushed open and then paused, unruly snowflakes floating inside as she reminded Natalie to put the chicken on for dinner. Her own bored reply echoed in her mind and she again felt the flush of guilt and shame.

"Me, too." He finally stepped away from the counter, limping over to switch on the coffeepot near the oven. He stopped, placing one hand on the door of the oven. "She was mad at me."

"She was?" Natalie frowned. She didn't recall her mother being mad. Rushing, yes, and complaining about the weather she had to drive in, but not mad. "What about?"

"I was supposed to go shopping with her. But I had to put in an order, and was running late on getting the work for morning done. She didn't like driving in the snow. I told her to stop being a baby. She told me I was being an inconsiderate ass. It was my fault she was leaving late, and it's my fault she went alone."

"Dad, no," Natalie whispered. "It wasn't your fault."

"I know the accident wasn't. Not really. But… It was. If I'd left the work for morning go until we got back, or told her to wait until the next afternoon… Or if I'd delayed her longer so she was five minutes later. Or had told her to leave earlier…" Mark drew in a shaky breath. "She wouldn't have been in that spot when that driver hit the bit of ice."

"But it could have happened to her either way. Or it could have been so much worse." The fact that no one else had been injured or died in the accident had at first been a point of anger, but it had shifted into a comfort. Her mother would have been upset at more loss of life. "Or you could have been in the car and died, too."

"I know all that, sweetie. It doesn't make it easier."

"I know," she murmured. She hesitated, then finally closed the space between them.

"I didn't tell her I loved her."

"I didn't either."

He lowered his head and her heart broke for him. She slowly reached forward and placed her hand on his arm. He turned slightly and her breath hitched at the tears in his eyes. "It hurts every day I walk in here, because I always remember that my last words to her were 'hurry home' and not that I loved her."

"She knew you loved her. Dad, she knew."

"She knew you loved her, too." He wrapped his arm around her and exhaled slowly. "She would be so proud of you."

"Sometimes I think so." Natalie squeezed her eyes shut. "She'd hate that I'm single and childless, though."

"Yeah, she did want grandkids," he murmured with a quick chuckle. "But more importantly she wanted you happy."

"I thought I was. Then I wasn't. For a little bit when I first moved back I was. Now I'm not again." Sniffling, she pressed her face into his shirt.

"Have you talked to Oscar?"

She stiffened and pulled away, brushing her tears away while turning to put the boxed fruitcakes away. "There's nothing to talk to him about."

"He didn't do anything, sweetie."

"He lied to me."

"And you've never lied?"

"Not about something this important." Picking up two boxes, she carried them to the storage rack.

"I lied, too. Be mad at me."

"I love you too much to stay mad at you," she admitted.

"I was gonna say the same thing." He got his garish mug from its hook above the coffeepot and filled it. "You love him, too."

"No I don't."

"You're lying again."

"I don't!" She set the next two fruitcakes down with more force than necessary. "God, I don't even know him."

"Well." When she glanced over, her father was twirling the coffee in his cup. "You know him pretty well, I'd imagine."

"I'd rather not talk about that."

"You never said how his scrambled eggs were."

"They were sunny side up."

He chuckled. "You do love a runny yolk."

"It takes more than sex and a good cooked egg for love, Dad."

"You know what it took for your mother and me?" He waited until she threw up her hands in silent defeat and smiled. "A laugh."

"A laugh," she repeated, blinking in confusion. "Really?"

"She was visiting her cousin over the summer. They came in one morning for donuts and I shortchanged her." His smile widened and Natalie knew he was lost in the memory. "Wish I could say it was because she was so beautiful I forgot how to subtract, but it was because I was in a hurry so I could go out back and smoke. She came back in a few minutes later and then marched right out back to tell me to give her the three dollars I owed her. Then she took the cigarette from me and threw it on the ground. Hop to it, she said, snapping her fingers. I asked her who the hell she thought she was, and when she said either my dream customer or my worst nightmare, I laughed in her face."

Natalie smiled. She'd heard the tale before, but only that her mother had come in and had thought Mark was cute. She had only meant to stay in town two weeks to visit her cousin, then had extended her stay to last the entire summer. She'd come back over her Christmas break from college and had never left except to go get her things from her dorm.

"She told me the night I proposed that she fell in love with me right then."

"That's sweet, Dad. But it's more complicated for me and Oscar."

"Because you're making it complicated."

"He doesn't even know what he's going to do after Max and Eve move into the house."

"So?"

"And I might be leaving."

"And?"

"I don't think Oscar's the type to follow a woman to Atlanta." She sighed. "He doesn't like big cities."

"There's always a suburb. And the type of work he does he can do anywhere."

"Plus he lied to me."

"Because it wasn't any of his business. It was my job to tell you, and I royally screwed that up. He cares about you."

"How do you know that?"

"I'm not blind, sweetie." He sighed and took a sip of his coffee. "Don't push him away. You know he's a good man."

"He is," she agreed.

"And I guess he's okay looking."

"He is," she said again. He was more than okay looking.

"I'm not trying to push you into a relationship with him, I just want you to patch things up. It's up to you to do that."

"I guess so." She smiled faintly, remembering Oscar gently urging her to talk to her dad.

"But do it quick."

"Why?"

"I miss Penny."

Oscar slid the last cookie onto the platter and tossed the cooling rack into the sink. Baking wasn't his strength, but he had always heard that the scent of fresh-baked cookies made a house smell like home. He knew his friend would be slightly disgusted that he'd bought and baked pre-made dough, but it was the best he could do. Setting the platter on the island counter, he moved to rinse the racks and dried them off before pushing them into the drawer next to the stove. He wiped down the sink, slightly adjusted the platter of cookies, then did a quick look through the house to make sure everything was truly ready.

It was. He'd made up all the beds with the sheets Eve had brought one weekend. There was a new puzzle mat waiting for Lucas in his new room. For Grace was a set of toy horses, one of which resembled Bonny and her foal. On the dresser in the master bedroom was a vase filled with purple roses and a gift certificate to the town's salon for Eve. Next to it was the pair of sunglasses he'd purchased to replace the ones of Max's he'd broken accidentally. Eve's home office was ready to go except for her computer and whatever little things she wanted to place on the shelves. The bedroom he had been using was clean, his things mostly packed and ready to be loaded into his truck after Christmas when he left. He wasn't sure but he had an inkling it would soon be made into a nursery. Max's home office downstairs was ready to go, complete with the new computer Eve had ordered for him. The playroom was organized and neat, all the toys in their respective cubbies. The living room and den and dining room were ready, and he knew without looking that the basement was, too.

He ran his hand along the back of the couch, checking that the living room was perfect. His gaze moved to the plush rug in front of the fireplace and he tried his best to ignore the way his chest squeezed. Turning his attention to the Christmas decorations, he nodded to himself, glancing to the twinkling tree in front of the bow window. Underneath it were two wrapped gifts for Grace and Lucas to open that night. Moving into the front hall, he idly adjusted the lighted garland twining down the banister of the staircase.

From the utility room behind the kitchen came a small yip, and he watched Penny come trotting through to the front hall, skidding to a stop at the front door, where she sat, tail thumping excitedly.

"They here?" he asked, bending to scratch behind her ears while he opened the door. She waited, body starting to wriggle, then darted out as soon as Max's SUV was parked and the engine cut off. Oscar leaned in the doorway, smiling, as the dog rushed around in excited circles, then zoomed to greet first Eve and then Max.

"Hey!" Max laughed when Penny leaped through his open door.

"Penny," Oscar called, stepping out onto the porch. "C'mon, girl."

A few seconds later she jumped out of the passenger door, and took her time to join him on the porch. Her tail wagged incessantly as Eve let Grace out, and when they headed across she gave another yip of greeting.

"Hey," Oscar greeted, catching Grace when she threw herself at him in a hug. "Good drive?"

"Mommy peed three times," the girl announced.

"Yes thank you, Grace," Eve sighed. "I'm sure Oscar needs to know about my bladder function."

He knew why already, but he had to ask. Grinning, he caught her in a quick hug while Max carried Lucas from the car. "Did Max make you drink Red Bull again?"

"He knows better by now." Eve smiled. The same smile she'd given him twice before. "I've been drinking more water today."

"Why?" he asked, making a face.

"Damned if I know." She moved inside, then turned around and grabbed his arm. "You know, don't you?"

"Know what?" he grunted, stumbling when she yanked on his sleeve. "Eve!"

"He told you!" She glared at Max, who was just coming up the steps. "You told him!"

"I didn't tell him a damn thing!"

"Oooo!" Lucas's eyes widened. "Bad Daddy."

"Your mother drops the f-word three times a day and I get scolded for saying damn?" Max shook his head. "What's up with that?"

"Mommy." The boy shrugged as though that were enough explanation, then tipped his head back to look at the lights crisscrossing the ceiling of the porch. "Pretty lights."

"The decorating looks great, Oscar," Max said, nodding with approval. "Your best work."

"Thanks. I had thorough instructions."

"It does look great," Eve agreed, still holding onto his sleeve. "It looked so beautiful from the street. Did you leave—"

"Room on the main tree for the kids' ornaments, yes," Oscar finished for her, nodding. "Can I have my arm back now?"

"Did he tell you?" she asked.

"No, he didn't."

Her eyes narrowed behind her glasses. "You were supposed to ask me what he allegedly told you."

Oscar blinked, then slowly turned his head to look at his friend. "What'd she say?"

"You gave the wrong answer." Max looked at his wife. "I didn't tell him."

"But he knows."

"I gotta nose," Lucas announced, jamming his index finger in one nostril. "See?"

"Ew," Eve groaned. Letting go of Oscar's sleeve, she took the boy from Max and began rummaging in her purse for a tissue. "No boogers, please, Mommy can't handle it today. Do I smell cookies?"

Grace jumped up from where she'd been lying, loving on Penny. "Cookies? You baked, Oscar?"

"Uh, yeah, but—"

"Cookies!"

"They're the pre-made stuff," Oscar told Max before he could ask. "Don't judge me."

"I judge you every damn day, it's my right as your best friend." Max grinned and headed inside. "Wow, you've made a lot of progress. All the floors are finished?"

"Yeah." Oscar closed the front door while the kids ran towards the kitchen.

"Oh my god," Eve gasped, freezing in the archway to the living room. Her hands came up to cover her mouth, and she slowly spun to stare at him.

"Surprise," he said, smiling.

"Babe, the dining room – Whoa," Max said, joining his wife.

"You said it would be after Christmas," she said.

"I lied?" More than a little touched by their reaction, especially when he saw the glimmer of tears in Eve's eyes, he cleared his throat. "I didn't want you to have to cram the last of the moving into those few days after Christmas, and… I wanted to give y'all a good gift. Especially with, y'know."

"What?" Max asked, unzipping his coat.

"You know," Oscar said slowly.

"Oh for fuck's sake, we all know I'm pregnant again, stop tiptoeing around it." Eve flung her arms around Oscar and squeezed. "Thank you so much."

"You're welcome," he murmured, hugging her back. "You guys deserve to spend Christmas in your new house."

"The upstairs is done, too?" she asked.

"Beds made, rugs vacuumed, everything already here is put away." He smiled when she headed up the stairs. "I even put a mint on the pillows."

"You're an asshole for not telling us it was finished, but I love you," she called over her shoulder.

"Love you too," he promised.

Max hung up his coat, then picked up Eve's from where she'd dropped it. "When did you finish?"

"Couple days ago. I spent yesterday and today doing the decorating and cleaning up." Oscar picked up Eve's purse and set it on the console table. "I figured I could rent a van and start bringing the rest of your stuff down next week."

"That'd be great. Did Natalie help?"

Oscar tried to not react to the mention of her name, but knew his frined had caught something when his eyebrows lifted. "No, she didn't."

"Wanna talk about it?"

"She found out about the bakery."

Max sucked in a breath between his teeth. "Mark said he was gonna tell her this weekend."

"She found something about it from a lawyer." Moving into the living room, Oscar crossed to the fireplace and adjusted the screen. "She was upset. At me."

"Because you didn't tell her?"

"Yeah."

Max nodded. "It wasn't fair to ask you not to say anything."

"If I'd told her, she still would have been upset," he sighed, staring at the fire. Not wanting to remember what had occurred in that spot the last time the fire had been going, he stepped away, pushing his hands into his pockets.

"Maybe not as bad."

Oscar sighed. "Doesn't matter. She's done with me."

"Done?"

"I asked her if we could talk about it and she said she had nothing more to say to me." He shrugged, trying his best to pretend he wasn't as affected by her cold dismissal as he truly was.

"Shit, I'm sorry," Max whispered. "It's all my fault."

"No it's not."

"I should have told her. I should have made Mark tell her. I should have told Susie. I should have—"

"Max, stop. It just wasn't meant to be."

"You're gonna give up?"

"It wasn't like it could go anywhere."

"Why the hell not? You like her. She likes you. There were hearts in your eyes and music playing whenever you looked at each other."

"It's better this way," he insisted. "I'm leaving after Christmas."

"You're what?"

Oscar jerked his head up at the sound of Eve's voice. Sighing, he nodded. "I'm leaving after Christmas."

"Why? Where are you going? What are you gonna do?" she asked, glancing towards the kitchen. She squatted down, catching Lucas when he toddled up to her and thrust a cookie in her face.

"Oscar cookies," the boy said proudly, bringing the cookie back so he could take a large bite.

"Where's your sister?" Eve unzipped her son's coat and struggled to get it off without making him let go of the cookie. "Grace!"

Oscar watched his niece appear, coat hanging from her arms. She shook it off then dragged it to the coat rack. And, when her mother told her to go look at her room, she took off upstairs.

"Well?" Eve demanded, straightening and looking at him.

"I'll figure something out between now and then," he said.

"I thought you were looking at the place on the edge of town."

Oscar swiveled his gaze to his friend.

Max shrugged. "I tell her everything."

"Take Lucas up to see his room," she said, eyes never leaving Oscar. "I've got to talk to Oscar."

"Good luck," Max whispered before scooping his son into his arms.

She wasn't usually one for exercise. But the day was so nice. It was damp due to the rain the night before, and the snow was still in thick drifts, but the sun was shining and it was warm enough she didn't need a thick coat. She had felt closed-up, something she wasn't used to feeling, and had finally thrown on a jacket and decided to go for a brisk walk to clear her head. At first she kept to the side streets, and after going around until she was nearly back home, she headed for Main Street and then followed it along until she reached the outskirts of town.

Stopping to unzip her jacket and consider how she wanted to go back through town, she felt a sudden prickle of awareness. She turned slightly, seeing first the 'For Sale' sign and then the little white clapboard split-level. Mr. Wright's house, she thought, recalling hearing that he had moved to the center of town to live with his sister. Her gaze moved to the truck in the driveway and her chest lurched.

Oscar.

As though her presence had conjured him up, the door opened and he stepped outside, laughing. Carlos was behind him, laughing as well, and the two men stood on the small porch, chatting.

Her heart squeezed almost painfully. He didn't see her. Or maybe he did and he didn't care enough to acknowledge? She wavered, unsure whether to call out a greeting or turn and go away before he could look in her direction. She hadn't yet made up her mind what she wanted to say to him, or if she wanted to say anything to him at all. She looked on as the men shook hands, and took a step forward just as Oscar started down the steps.

He stopped, so she did as well. Despite the distance she saw the hesitance in his expression, and bit her lip when he pushed his hands into the pockets of his jeans.

Oh, damn it, she had to speak to him. She continued walking forward, sneakers slipping a little on the pile of snow at the end of the flagstone walk. With each step she tried to think of something to say, but then she saw that he was walking toward her. They met halfway and both stopped at the same time.

Natalie pulled her earbuds from her ears, hastily cramming them into the pocket of her jacket. What was she supposed to say? How could she begin to explain her outburst, her irrational anger towards him that had now faded? What could she possibly say to make it even a little bit better? There was an awkward tension between them and even though she couldn't look away from him she knew that Carlos had sensed it when she heard him mutter something and go back into the house.

Oscar's eyes looked a little sad and she wondered if that were her fault.

"I'm sorry," she blurted.

"I'm sorry," he said at the same time.

"I shouldn't have taken my anger out on you—"

"I should have told you when you asked—"

"It wasn't fair—"

"It was wrong to keep you in the dark—"

"I dragged you in the middle when you were just a bystander—"

"I just didn't want to upset you—"

"I blew it all out of proportion because I was hurt—"

"Especially when I realized I was falling for you so fast and—"

"I was thinking I might be falling in love even though we just met—"

They both stopped. At the same time.

Natalie blinked. So did he. She didn't know why, but she began to smile. And was relieved when he did, too. A laugh bubbled up when they both took a step forward. Slipping her hand into his when he held it out, she sighed.

"You wanna go for a walk?" he asked.

"I just did, but yes."

They strolled to the sidewalk, and his fingers slotted between hers. "Can we talk, too?"

"I think we should." She stopped, frowning. "You're just gonna leave your truck?"

"I can walk back and get it."

Resuming her steps, she squeezed his hand. "I'll walk back with you."