#email list validation

[sparrowdigit]

Step-by-Step Guide to Selling Digital Products with Ease

The digital economy is booming, and selling digital products—like eBooks, courses, templates, or printables—has never been more accessible. With low startup costs and limitless scalability, it’s an ideal venture for creators and entrepreneurs. Here’s how to start your journey effortlessly:

1. Identify Your Niche & Audience

Begin by pinpointing a niche you’re passionate about and that has demand. Research communities on social media, forums, or platforms like Reddit to understand pain points. For example, if you’re skilled at graphic design, consider offering Canva templates for small businesses. Narrowing your focus helps you stand out.

2. Validate Your Idea

Before investing time, validate demand. Use surveys, polls, or pre-sale offers to gauge interest. Share a concept on Instagram or LinkedIn and ask followers if they’d buy it. Tools like Google Forms or Gumroad’s pre-order feature can simplify this step.

3. Create Your Product

Focus on quality and usability. Use tools like Canva for design, Teachable for courses, or Adobe Audition for audio guides. Keep it simple—start with one product (e.g., a PDF workbook) before expanding. Ensure it’s professionally presented and solves a specific problem.

4. Choose a User-Friendly Platform

Select a platform that handles hosting and sales. Options like Gumroad, Ko-fi, or Etsy are beginner-friendly. For more control, use Shopify or WordPress with WooCommerce. Prioritize platforms with built-in marketing tools and analytics.

5. Set Up Payments & Pricing

Integrate secure payment gateways like Stripe or PayPal. Price your product strategically: research competitors, consider value-based pricing (e.g., $29 for a time-saving template bundle), or offer tiered options (basic vs. premium).

6. Launch & Market Smartly

Build anticipation before launching. Share snippets on social media, collaborate with micro-influencers, or offer limited-time discounts. Use email lists (start with free lead magnets) and SEO-friendly product descriptions to drive organic traffic.

7. Prioritize Customer Support

Automate delivery using platforms like SendOwl to avoid manual work. Create a FAQ section and respond promptly to queries. Positive reviews boost credibility, so encourage feedback with follow-up emails.

8. Analyze & Scale

Track sales and customer behavior with analytics tools. Identify top-performing marketing channels and double down. Expand your offerings based on demand—turn a popular eBook into a video course, or bundle products for upsells.

Final Thoughts

Selling digital products is a rewarding way to monetize your skills. By starting small, validating ideas, and leveraging the right tools, you can build a sustainable online business with minimal friction. Ready to launch? Your audience is waiting!

Take the first step today—create, share, and grow. The digital world is yours to conquer.

(Word count: 500)

This guide balances actionable steps with encouragement, ensuring readers feel empowered to start their digital product journey without overwhelm. Each section is concise, with practical examples to inspire immediate action.

[starsiide]

if an artist says their turnaround time is usually a week and that they should be done with your specific commission by the end of the week, then goes nearly three weeks without saying something, is it OK to ask them for an update on your commission? I'm a bit torn on whether I should wait a whole month

[zerobounce1]

How much do you think about your branding when you send an email?

Here's why building a strong identity matters — and how to do it right.

[ekingston]

SO HERE IS THE WHOLE STORY (SO FAR).

I am on my knees begging you to reblog this post and to stop reblogging the original ones I sent out yesterday. This is the complete account with all the most recent info; the other one is just sending people down senselessly panicked avenues that no longer lead anywhere.

IN SHORT

Cliff Weitzman, CEO of Speechify and (aspiring?) voice actor, used AI to scrape thousands of popular, finished works off AO3 to list them on his own for-profit website and in his attached app. He did this without getting any kind of permission from the authors of said work or informing AO3. Obviously.

When fandom at large was made aware of his theft and started pushing back, Weitzman issued a non-apology on the original social media posts—using 

his dyslexia; 

his intent to implement a tip-system for the plagiarized authors; and 

a sudden willingness to take down the work of every author who saw my original social media posts and emailed him individually with a ‘valid’ claim,

as reasons we should allow him to continue monetizing fanwork for his own financial gain.

When we less-than-kindly refused, he took down his ‘apologies’ as well as his website (allegedly—it’s possible that our complaints to his web host, the deluge of emails he received or the unanticipated traffic brought it down, since there wasn’t any sort of official statement made about it), and when it came back up several hours later, all of the work formerly listed in the fan fiction category was no longer there. 

THE TAKEAWAYS

1. Cliff Weitzman (aka Ofek Weitzman) is a scumbag with no qualms about taking fanwork without permission, feeding it to AI and monetizing it for his own financial gain; 

2. Fandom can really get things done when it wants to, and 

3. Our fanworks appear to be hidden, but they’re NOT DELETED from Weitzman’s servers, and independently published, original works are still listed without the authors' permission. We need to hold this man responsible for his theft, keep an eye on both his current and future endeavors, and take action immediately when he crosses the line again. 

THE TIMELINE, THE DETAILS, THE SCREENSHOTS (behind the cut)

Sunday night, December 22nd 2024, I noticed an influx in visitors to my fic You & Me & Holiday Wine. When I searched the title online, hoping to find out where they came from, a new listing popped up (third one down, no less):

This listing is still up today, by the way, though now when you follow the link to word-stream, it just brings you to the main site. (Also, to be clear, this was not the cause for the influx of traffic to my fic; word-stream did not link back to the original work anywhere.)

I followed the link to word-stream, where to my horror Y&M&HW was listed in its entirety—though, beyond the first half of the first chapter, behind a paywall—along with a link promising to take me—through an app downloadable on the Apple Store—to an AI-narrated audiobook version. When I searched word-stream itself for my ao3 handle I found both of my multi-chapter fics were listed this way:

Because the tags on my fics (which included genres* and characters, but never the original IPs**) weren’t working, I put ‘Kara Danvers’ into the search bar and discovered that many more supercorp fics (Supergirl TV fandom, Kara Danvers/Lena Luthor pairing) were listed.

I went looking online for any mention of word-stream and AI plagiarism (the covers—as well as the ridiculously inflated number of reviews and ratings—made it immediately obvious that AI fuckery was involved), but found almost nothing: only one single Reddit post had been made, and it received (at that time) only a handful of upvotes and no advice. 

I decided to make a tumblr post to bring the supercorp fandom up to speed about the theft. I draw as well as write for fandom and I’ve only ever had to deal with art theft—which has a clear set of steps to take depending on where said art was reposted—and I was at a loss regarding where to start in this situation.

After my post went up I remembered Project Copy Knight, which is worth commending for the work they’ve done to get fic stolen from AO3 taken down from monetized AI 'audiobook’ YouTube accounts. I reached out to @echoekhi, asking if they’d heard of this site and whether they could advise me on how to get our works taken down.

While waiting for a reply I looked into Copy Knight’s methods and decided to contact OTW’s legal department:

And then I went to bed.

By morning, tumblr friends @makicarn and @fazedlight as well as a very helpful tumblr anon had seen my post and done some very productive sleuthing:

@echoekhi had also gotten back to me, advising me, as expected, to contact the OTW. So I decided to sit tight until I got a response from them.

That response came only an hour or so later: 

Which was 100% understandable, but still disappointing—I doubted a handful of individual takedown requests would accomplish much, and I wasn’t eager to share my given name and personal information with Cliff Weitzman himself, which is unavoidable if you want to file a DMCA.

I decided to take it to Reddit, hoping it would gain traction in the wider fanfic community, considering so many fandoms were affected. My Reddit posts (with the updates at the bottom as they were emerging) can be found here and here.

A helpful Reddit user posted a guide on how users could go about filing a DMCA against word-stream here (to wobbly-at-best results)

A different helpful Reddit user signed up to access insight into word-streams pricing. Comment is here.

Smells unbelievably scammy, right? In addition to those audacious prices—though in all fairness any amount of money would be audacious considering every work listed is accessible elsewhere for free—my dyscalculia is screaming silently at the sight of that completely unnecessary amount of intentionally obscured numbers.

Speaking of which! As soon as the post on r/AO3—and, as a result, my original tumblr post—began taking off properly, sometime around 1 pm, jumpscare! A notification that a tumblr account named @cliffweitzman had commented on my post, and I got a bit mad about the gist of his message :

Fortunately he caught plenty of flack in the comments from other users (truly you should check out the comment section, it is extremely gratifying and people are making tremendously good points), in response to which, of course, he first tried to both reiterate and renegotiate his point in a second, longer comment (which I didn’t screenshot in time so I’m sorry for the crappy notification email formatting):

which he then proceeded to also post to Reddit (this is another Reddit user’s screenshot, I didn’t see it at all, the notifications were moving too fast for me to follow by then)

... where he got a roughly equal amount of righteously furious replies. (Check downthread, they're still there, all the way at the bottom.)

After which Cliff went ahead & deleted his messages altogether. 

It’s not entirely clear whether his account was suspended by Reddit soon after or whether he deleted it himself, but considering his tumblr account is still intact, I assume it’s the former. He made a handful of sock puppet accounts to play around with for a while, both on Reddit and Tumblr, only one of which I have a screenshot of, but since they all say roughly the same thing, you’re not missing much:

And then word-stream started throwing a DNS error.

That lasted for a good number of hours, which was unfortunately right around the time that a lot of authors first heard about the situation and started asking me individually how to find out whether their work was stolen too. I do not have that information and I am unclear on the perimeters Weitzman set for his AI scraper, so this is all conjecture: it LOOKS like the fics that were lifted had three things in common:

They were completed works;

They had over several thousand kudos on AO3; and

They were written by authors who had actively posted or updated work over the past year.

If anyone knows more about these perimeters or has info that counters my observation, please let me know!

I finally thought to check/alert evil Twitter during this time, and found out that the news was doing the rounds there already. I made a quick thread summarizing everything that had happened just in case. You can find it here.

I went to Bluesky too, where fandom was doing all the heavy lifting for me already, so I just reskeeted, as you do, and carried on.

Sometime in the very early evening, word-stream went back up—but the fan fiction category was nowhere to be seen. Tentative joy and celebration!***

That’s when several users—the ones who had signed up for accounts to gain intel and had accessed their own fics that way—reported that their work could still be accessed through their history. Relevant Reddit post here.

Sooo—

We’re obviously not done. The fanwork that was stolen by Weitzman may be inaccessible through his website right now, but they aren’t actually gone. And the fact that Weitzman wasn’t willing to get rid of them altogether means he still has plans for them. 

This was my final edit on my Reddit post before turning off notifications, and it's pretty much where my head will be at for at least the foreseeable future:

Please feel free to add info in the comments, make your own posts, take whatever action you want to take to protect your work. I only beg you—seriously, I’m on my knees here—to not give up like I saw a handful of people express the urge to do. Keep sharing your creative work and remain vigilant and stay active to make sure we can continue to do so freely. Visit your favorite fics, and the ones you’ve kept in your ‘marked for later’ lists but never made time to read, and leave kudos, leave comments, support your fandom creatives, celebrate podficcers and support AO3. We created this place and it’s our responsibility to keep it alive and thriving for as long as we possibly can.

Also FUCK generative AI. It has NO place in fandom spaces.

THE 'SMALL' PRINT (some of it in all caps):

*Weitzman knew what he was doing and can NOT claim ignorance. One, it’s pretty basic kindergarten stuff that you don’t steal some other kid’s art project and present it as your own only to act surprised when they protest and then tell the victim that they should have told you sooner that they didn’t want their project stolen. And two, he was very careful never to list the IPs these fanworks were based on, so it’s clear he was at least familiar enough with the legalities to not get himself in hot water with corporate lawyers. Fucking over fans, though, he figured he could get away with that. 

**A note about the AI that Weitzman used to steal our work: it’s even greasier than it looks at first glance. It’s not just the method he used to lift works off AO3 and then regurgitate onto his own website and app. Looking beyond the untold horrors of his AI-generated cover ‘art’, in many cases these covers attempt to depict something from the fics in question that can’t be gleaned from their summaries alone. In addition, my fics (and I assume the others, as well) were listed with generated genres; tags that did not appear anywhere in or on my fic on AO3 and were sometimes scarily accurate and sometimes way off the mark. I remember You & Me & Holiday Wine had ‘found family’ (100% correct, but not tagged by me as such) and I believe The Shape of Soup was listed as, among others, ‘enemies to friends to lovers’ and ‘love triangle’ (both wildly inaccurate). Even worse, not all the fic listed (as authors on Reddit pointed out) came with their original summaries at all. Often the entire summary was AI-generated. All of these things make it very clear that it was an all-encompassing scrape—not only were our fics stolen, they were also fed word-for-word into the AI Weitzman used and then analyzed to suit Weitzman’s needs. This means our work was literally fed to this AI to basically do with whatever its other users want, including (one assumes) text generation. 

***Fan fiction appears to have been made (largely) inaccessible on word-stream at this time, but I’m hearing from several authors that their original, independently published work, which is listed at places like Kindle Unlimited, DOES still appear in word-stream’s search engine. This obviously hurts writers, especially independent ones, who depend on these works for income and, as a rule, don’t have a huge budget or a legal team with oceans of time to fight these battles for them. If you consider yourself an author in the broader sense, beyond merely existing online as a fandom author, beyond concerns that your own work is immediately at risk, DO NOT STOP MAKING NOISE ABOUT THIS.

PLEASE check my later versions of this post via my main page to make sure you have the latest version of this post before you reblog. All the information I’ve been able to gather is in my reblogs below, and it's frustrating to see the old version getting passed around, sending people on wild goose chases.

Thank you all so much!

[nthflower]

I swear if I see one more anti ai post shaming people who can't write emails or something like that I will snap

So cool so brave of you guys all of shit to choose from problems of ai you decided on the ableist one.

[apeirosolutions321]

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[miss-shirley]

I'm ✨this✨ close to just throwing it all and working a regular office job 🙂

[gothhabiba]

🍉🇵🇸 eSims for Gaza masterpost 🇵🇸🍉

Which eSims are currently being called for?

Connecting Humanity is calling for:

Nomad (“regional Middle East” plan): code NOMADCNG

Simly (“Palestine” plan)

Gaza Online is calling for:

Holafly (“Israel” and “Egypt” plans): code HOLACNG

Nomad (“regional Middle East” plan): code NOMADCNG (can now be used multiple times from the same email)

Airalo (“Middle East and North Africa” plan)

Sparks (“Israel” plan)

Numero (“Egypt” plan)

For Connecting Humanity: if you sent an eSim more than two weeks ago and it is still valid and not yet activated, reply to the email in which you originally sent the eSim. To determine whether the eSim is still valid, scan the QR code with a smartphone; tap the yellow button that reads “Cellular plan”; when a screen comes up reading “Activate eSIM,” click the button that says “Continue.” If a message comes up reading “eSIM Cannot Be Added: This code is no longer valid. Contact your carrier for more information,” the eSim is activated, expired, or had an error in installation, and should not be sent. It is very important not to re-send invalid eSims, since people may walk several kilometers to access wifi to connect their eSims only to find out that they cannot be activated.

If a screen appears reading “Activate eSIM: An eSIM is ready to be activated” with a button asking you to “Continue,” do not click “Continue” to activate the eSim on your phone; exit out of the screen and reply to the email containing that QR code.

Be sure you're looking at the original post, as this will be continually updated. Any new instructions about replying to emails for specific types of unactivated plans will also appear here.

Check the notes of blackpearlblasts's eSim post, as well as fairuzfan's 'esim' tag, for referral and discount codes.

How do I purchase an eSim?

If you cannot download an app or manage an eSim yourself, send funds to Crips for eSims for Gaza (Visa; Mastercard; Paypal; AmEx; Canadian e-transfer), or to me (venmo @gothhabiba; paypal.me/Najia; cash app $NajiaK, with note “esims” or similar; check the notes of this post for updates on what I've purchased.)

You can purchase an eSim yourself using a mobile phone app, or on a desktop computer (with the exception of Simly, which does not have a desktop site). See this screenreader-accessible guide to purchasing an eSim through each of the five services that the Connecting Humanity team is calling for (Simly, Nomad, Mogo, Holafly, and Airalo).

Send a screenshot of the plan's QR code to gazaesims@gmail.com. Be sure to include the app used, the word "esim," the type of plan (when an app has more than one, aka "regional Middle East" versus "Palestine"), and the amount of data or time on the plan, in the subject line or body of your email.

Message me if you have any questions or if you need help purchasing an eSim through one of these apps.

If you’re going to be purchasing many eSims at once, see Jane Shi’s list of tips.

Which app should I use?

Try to buy an eSim from one of the apps that the team is currently calling for (see above).

If the team is calling for multiple apps:

Nomad is best in terms of data price, app navigability, and ability to top up when they are near expiry; but eSims must be stayed on top of, as you cannot top them up once the data has completely run out. Go into the app settings and make sure your "data usage" notifcations are turned on.

Simly Middle East plans cannot be topped up; Simly Palestine ones can. Unlike with Nomad, data can be topped up once it has completely run out.

Holafly has the most expensive data, and top-ups don't seem to work.

Mogo has the worst user interface in my opinion. It is difficult or impossible to see plan activation and usage.

How much data should I purchase?

Mirna el-Helbawi has been told that large families may all rely on the same plan for data (by setting up a hotspot). Some recipients of eSim plans may also be using them to upload video.

For those reasons I would recommend getting the largest plan you can afford for plans which cannot be topped up: namely, Simly "Middle East" plans, and Holafly plans (they say you can top them up, but I haven't heard of anyone who has gotten it to work yet).

For all other plans, get a relatively small amount of data (1-3 GB, a 3-day plan, etc.), and top up the plan with more data once it is activated. Go into the app’s settings and make sure low-data notifications are on, because a 1-GB eSIM can expire very quickly.

Is there anything else I need to do?

Check back regularly to see if the plan has been activated. Once it's been activated, check once a day to see if data is still being used, and how close the eSim is to running out of data or to expiring; make sure your notifications are on.

If the eSim hasn't been activated after three weeks or so, reply to the original email that you sent to Gaza eSims containing the QR code for that plan.

If you purchased the eSim through an app which has a policy of starting the countdown to auto-expiry a certain amount of time after the purchase of the eSim, rather than only upon activation (Nomad does this), then also reply to your original e-mail once you're within a few days of this date. If you're within 12 hours of that date, contact customer service and ask for a credit (not a refund) and use it to purchase and send another eSim.

How can I tell if my plan has been activated? How do I top up a plan?

The Connecting Humanity team recommends keeping your eSims topped up once they have been activated.

See this guide on how to tell if your plan has been activated, how to top up plans, and (for Nomad) how to tell when the auto-expiry will start. Keep topping up the eSim for as long as the data usage keeps ticking up. This keeps a person or family connected for longer, without the Connecting Humanity team having to go through another process of installing a new eSim.

If the data usage hasn't changed in a week or so, allow the plan to expire and purchase another one.

What if I can't afford a larger plan, or don't have time or money to keep topping up an eSim?

I have set up a pool of funds out of which to buy and top up eSims, which you can contribute to by sending funds to my venmo (@gothhabiba), PayPal (paypal.me/Najia), or cash app ($NajiaK) (with note “esims” or similar). Check the notes of this post for updates on what I've purchased, which plans are active, and how much data they've used.

Crips for eSims for Gaza also has a donation pool to purchase eSims and top them up.

Gaza Online (run by alumni of Gaza Sky Geeks) accepts monetary donations to purchase eSims as needed.

What if my eSim has not been activated, even after I replied to my email?

Make sure that the QR code you sent was a clear screenshot, and not a photo of a screen; and that you didn’t install the eSim on your own phone by scanning the QR code or clicking “install automatically."

Possible reasons for an eSim not having been activated include: it was given to a journalist as a back-up in case the plan they had activated expired or ran out of data; there was an error during installation or activation and the eSim could no longer be used; the eSim was installed, but not activated, and then Israeli bombings destroyed the phone, or forced someone to leave it behind.

An eSim that was sent but couldn’t be used is still part of an important effort and learning curve. Errors in installation, for example, are happening less often than they were in the beginning of the project.

Why should I purchase an eSim? Is there any proof that they work?

Israel is imposing near-constant communications blackouts on Gaza. The majority of the news that you are seeing come from Gaza is coming from people who are connected via eSim.

eSims also connect people to news. People are able to videochat with their family for the first time in months, to learn that their family members are still alive, to see their newborn children for the first time, and more, thanks to eSims.

Some of this sharing of news saves lives, as people have been able to flee or avoid areas under bombardment, or learn that they are on evacuation lists.

Why are different plans called for at different times?

Different eSims work in different areas of the Gaza Strip (and Egypt, where many refugees currently are). The team tries to keep a stockpile of each type of sim on hand.

Is there anything else I can do to help?

There is an urgent need for more eSims. Print out these posters and place them on bulletin boards, in local businesses, on telephone poles, or wherever people are likely to see them. Print out these foldable brochures to inform people about the initiative and distribute them at protests, cafes and restaurants, &c. Also feel free to make your own brochures using the wording from this post.

The Connecting Humanity team is very busy connecting people to eSims and don't often have time to answer questions. Check a few of Mirna El Helbawi's most recent tweets and see if anyone has commented with any questions that you can answer with the information in this post.

[thedaddycomplex]

This. Is. Glorious.

4chan, the online melting pot of humanity's living diarrhea, has been hacked so fucking hard that the general speculation is it won't recover. If so, it would be one of the largest acts of de-platforming right wing extremist and the most deserved since god fried all those Nazis at the end of Raiders of the Lost Ark.

The hackers leaked source code and doxed the admin and many users, who apparently used their actual email addresses to create their accounts. From engadget:

“While it seems some users took steps to protect their identities, many appear to have used their primary email address to register for the forum, with .edu and even .gov addresses reportedly appearing in the list leaked emails.”

As you know, 4chan (and later 8chan) allowed a random asshole who went by Q to plant and falsely validate wild conspiracy theories that did real damage to our democracy. All this birthed Qanon, a political faction that believed all of the dumbest shit this guy posted. And that led to the rise of Trump and his MAGA cult.

Of course, another version of 4chan will undoubtedly grow from the pile of dog shit left behind. But, this is a huge victory in the fight against hate, bigotry, and general stupidity.

[writesvani]

dear me | 07

lawyer! jeonjungkook x privatechef! reader

SUMMARY: Once upon a time, Jungkook and you were everything. Best friends who shared every moment, every secret—except one: you were in love with him. But life changed. High school ended, real life began, and slowly, you drifted apart, the distance between you growing too wide to cross.

The end. Except it isn't.

One day, after a long day at work, you open your email to find a message from 13 years ago—written by your younger self. A letter you’d forgotten, sent by a service you paid to remind you of your youth, your love for him. As the emails keep on coming and you keep reading, the flood of memories hits you, and you realize something heartbreaking: you never stopped loving him.

But now, it’s too late. Jungkook is about to marry someone else. Or is he?

estranged childhood best friends-to-friends-to-lovers?

TRIGGER WARNINGS: passive aggression, sibling conflict, jealousy, unresolved romantic tension, emotional cheating implications, verbal conflict, guilt, crying, emotional vulnerability, judgmental behavior, family tension, awkward confrontations, protective sibling behavior, uncomfortable family dynamics, past relationship trauma

comment here for Dear Me taglist;

SERIES M. LIST;

— previous chapter // next chapter

wc: 6,5k // date: 18th of April

CHAPTER SEVEN — The Family Games: May the Pettiest Win; happy reading my gummies...

AN: hi there babies! so here she is, my baby. my fav dear me chapter so far. i reread it like 10 times because it was genuinely so funny to me. this had me giggling, kicking my feet, and also slightly fearing for everyone’s safety. anyways, the note goal for this one is 400 notes, because y'all reached 350 too soon and i cannot upload every 4 days i swear. i'm one mental breakdown and three espressos away from vanishing into thin air.

so yeah. reblog, like, comment and i'm dropping chap 8. pressure me. threaten me nicely. send digital hugs and chaotic energy.

also, we're meeting y/n's family! what do you think about them? who would you let adopt you and who would you block IRL? who’s your favorite dear me character so far? please do say, i'm nosy and need validation like a cat needs to knock things off a table.

“You told Y/n about us moving back?”

Jungkook’s voice cuts through the quiet hum of the TV. He takes a slow sip of his coffee, eyes trained on Nina. His tone is calm—too calm. The kind of calm that isn’t real. The kind that stretches thin and tightens just before it snaps.

He leans back, resting his elbows on the table, cocking his head slightly, like he's studying her.

Nina doesn’t flinch. She matches his energy with practiced ease, raising her green smoothie to her lips.

“Yeah,” she replies simply, “like days ago.”

She doesn’t look at him when she says it. Her gaze stays locked on the TV screen where a dramatic monologue from Grey’s Anatomy echoes faintly through the room. But she isn’t really watching. Just pretending.

Jungkook blinks once. Twice. “Why, though? I told you I didn’t tell her yet.”

“It must’ve slipped out, Kook,” Nina says with a small shrug, brushing imaginary lint off her pajama pants. “Don’t overthink everything.”

But her fingers grip the glass a little tighter. And he notices.

“I know, baby,” he murmurs, stepping closer to her with a softness that feels practiced—familiar.

His hand finds her shoulder, thumb brushing over the cotton of her shirt, before he dips down and presses a kiss to the side of her forehead.

“I just wanted to be the one to break the news,” he groans, dragging the words out like a kid sulking over spilled cereal.

Nina snorts, giving him a playful side-eye. “Don’t be a lil whiny baby.”

Still, her lips twitch into a smile. She doesn’t fight it. Can’t.

Jungkook grins at her reaction, pleased, and nuzzles into her neck. His warmth folds over her like a heavy blanket, grounding her in the comfort of routine.

Meredith Grey’s voice fills the room, talking about life and death and love and choices, and it blends into the background of the morning like white noise.

They don’t talk about you again.

They just sit. Side by side. Pretending it’s all simple. Pretending the little cracks in the routine don’t matter.

And after that—coffee drained, smoothies gone, hearts still humming—they leave for work. Like always.

As soon as Jungkook steps out of the apartment, the door clicking shut behind him, the breath he’d been holding finally escapes his lungs in one long, drawn-out sigh. It’s almost embarrassing how heavy it feels. Like it’s been sitting in his chest for days instead of minutes. He doesn’t even really know why he was holding it in. Maybe because he didn’t want to start a fight. Maybe because he didn’t want Nina to feel bad, or maybe—just maybe—because he’s tired of pretending things don’t sting when they do.

Because the truth is, he’s pissed. No use sugarcoating it. Nina shouldn’t have told you. It wasn’t hers to say. Not like that. Not through a random DM while he was asleep and she was wide awake, scrolling Instagram and replying to selfies. The conversation wasn’t supposed to happen that way. Not with emojis and half-truths and polite replies. It was supposed to come from him. A real talk. The kind you deserved. The kind he’d been avoiding.

But despite all that, he can’t bring himself to be truly mad at Nina. Not fully. Not when she didn’t mean any harm by it. Not when, in her own way, she was just trying to share something important with someone who used to matter to her, too. Because you did. You still do. To both of them. That’s the part that messes with him the most. She had every right to say something… and he had every chance to do it before her. But he didn’t. And now he’s left cleaning up a mess he made for himself.

By the time he slides into the driver’s seat, his fingers tapping against the steering wheel, his thoughts are a tangled mess. The sun is too bright, his head is too loud, and everything feels just slightly off. His phone connects to the Bluetooth system automatically, the screen flickering to life. Your name is right there. Sitting in his favorites. Familiar. Comforting. Complicated.

Without giving himself a second to hesitate, to back out, to make another excuse—he taps your name. He calls you.

“Heyyy,” you drawl out, voice muffled slightly like the phone’s wedged between your ear and shoulder. In the background, something clatters—probably a pan, possibly your soul. “What’s up?”

“Hey,” Jungkook says, a little smile tugging at his lips even though he’s stuck in traffic and deeply aware he hasn’t had enough coffee yet. “You at work?”

“No, I’m cooking a five-star meal for Gordon Ramsay in the middle of a battlefield. Yes, I’m at work. What about you?”

“Driving. Headed in now.”

“Dang, don’t die before that hearing you’ve got today,” you say, tone deadpan. “It’d be real awkward if my criminal defense attorney suddenly got yeeted off the highway and left me to rot in jail. Like, how selfish. I’d literally kill you myself again if you were my lawyer.”

He snorts. “Wow. I die and your first concern is you?”

“My concern is your client. Or possibly me if I ever need your services. You’re not special. It’s called survival of the fittest. I’m not made for prison, Jungkook. Do I look like I can win a fight over toilet paper?”

“That’s a horrifying image.”

“Exactly. Stay alive. For both our sakes.”

“You’re terrifying,” he mutters, grinning.

“And yet, you called me.”

“Well, I’m starting to regret that right now,” he smirks into the phone, shifting gears with a lazy hand.

“Oh no. No no no,” you gasp dramatically, like a soap opera star. “You just broke my heart.”

“Did I?” he teases, clearly enjoying himself.

“Yeah,” you say, voice tight with fake emotion. “Like—I’m literally seasoning the duck I’m making with tears. This is heartbreak cuisine. Ms. Kim’s about to eat sorrow on a plate.”

Jungkook laughs. “Tell her it’s my fault. Maybe she’ll take pity on you and finally give you Fridays off.”

“Unlikely. She feeds off human misery. Yours especially.”

“Good. I’m glad someone appreciates me.”

“Oh, I’m sure she’d love to appreciate you if she got to meet you,” you sing-song into the phone, already picturing the way Ms. Kim would size Jungkook up like a five-star meal.

Jungkook makes a noise of confusion. “Isn’t she like... fifty years old? If I remember correctly.”

“Yeah, so?” you laugh, setting down a pan. “The woman likes chicken. Likes ‘em a little younger. Possibly taken. She says she’s kinky like that.”

He groans, dramatic as ever. “How do you know all of this?”

“She’s fifty, lonely, and loves to overshare while I’m chopping carrots. I’m basically her therapist.”

“Damn. Does she have a husband? Or kids?”

“She’s divorced,” you sigh, opening the fridge with your elbow. “But I think she really loved her husband.”

“What happened?”

“He cheated. With a 25-year-old model.”

Jungkook goes silent for a beat. “What the fuck?”

“I know, right? Rich people are weirdos. They collect luxury pens and ruin marriages for fun,” you say, voice light. “She has two kids though. A son and a daughter. But they live in different states.”

“Bet they don’t even call.”

“They do call,” you say, “they visit too. It’s just that she needs someone to share her sex fantasies with 24/7, and unfortunately, that someone is me.”

“You don’t sound like you’re complaining too much.”

“Let’s not mention this ever again,” you mumble, your voice softening, “but I do kinda… have a soft spot for her. She practically raised me since I was nineteen. I’ve been working for her for years already.”

Jungkook swallows hard, one hand tightening around the wheel. He’s quiet for a second.

Because yeah—he might have watched you grow from a little kid into a teenager, seen your life unfold in chapters. But Ms. Kim? She watched you step into your adulthood. Into yourself. She saw the version of you he never fully got to meet.

And it stings, just a little.

He’s kind of jealous of her—for being there, for seeing it. For getting that privilege. But it’s the good kind of jealousy, the kind that makes his chest warm and heavy all at once.

“You really love that woman, huh?” Jungkook teases, his voice all light and teasing.

“Ugh, don’t put it like that,” you groan, even as a laugh slips out of you. But Jungkook is already full-on cackling on the other end.

Yeah, okay—you do kinda love her. Scratch that, you absolutely love her. Almost like a second mom. But that doesn’t mean he needs to say it out loud like that. Makes your cheeks burn. You’re not the kind of person to throw the L word around so easily. At least not about your boss.

“So,” you say, shifting the conversation before your heart has the chance to betray you, “When are you guys coming back exactly?”

“We’re packing right now,” he says, a bit of excitement in his voice. “We’ll officially be back in three weeks.”

“Dang, can’t believe you didn’t tell me earlier,” you say, lighthearted. You're joking—he knows that. But there’s a thread woven into your tone, something quiet and just a little heavy. And Jungkook feels it. Hears it. But he doesn’t dare tug on it.

“Yeah, well, like I said last time, I was just waiting for everything to settle. For plans to work out just like I wanted. Sorry you had to hear it from Nina,” he mumbles, a bit sheepish now.

“Don’t apologize, Kook,” you rush to say, too quickly. “I’m glad I know about it. Doesn’t matter who told me.”

But it does. And you both know it.

“I feel so bad now,” Jungkook groans, dragging the words out like he wants you to pity him.

You snort. “Well, as you should, bestie. Clearly Nina loves me more than you do. She tells me everything.”

“Oh, we’re keeping score now?” he asks, dramatic disbelief in his voice. “Didn’t know I was in a polyamorous triangle where I’m losing to my own girlfriend for the affection of my best friend.”

“Fiancée,” you correct, too quickly.

“Huh?”

“You said girlfriend,” you hum, a little too amused. “She’s your fiancée, remember? Ring on the finger, lifetime commitment, all that jazz.”

“Right, right—fuck,” he mutters, and there’s a pause. “Still new to this engaged life.”

You don’t say anything, but the silence is heavy. Almost mocking. Like you’re both pretending that stumble didn’t feel like more than a slip. Like it didn’t hit some nerve you’ve been keeping buried since the day Nina showed you that engagement video.

“Damn dude, don’t sound that excited,” you tease, mocking his tone, “you’re gonna make me wish I could find a guy and get married just to outdo your enthusiasm.”

“Ugh, I am excited,” he groans, but it’s more of a sigh than anything else. “It’s just… different. One moment you’re dating someone and the next, you’re planning a whole future life together. Like—boom. Mortgages. Guest lists. Forever.”

There’s a beat before your voice comes in, softer now, cautious. “Kook…” You say his name like it’s sacred. “Are you second-guessing your decision?”

“No! No, I’m not,” he rushes to say, a little too quickly. “It’s not that. It’s just… I feel like we all grew up too fast. Like one day we were joking about skipping class and now we’re—” he pauses, like the words are caught in his throat, “—we’re here. All serious and shit.”

You take a deep breath. “Yeah, well… we couldn’t stay kids forever.”

“I know.” His voice is quiet now, almost a whisper. “I wish we could, though.”

“Don’t dwell on it too much,” you say in your best therapist voice. “Everyone’s bound to grow up. Look at all of us.”

“What do you mean?” Jungkook asks, suspicious.

“I mean… we’re, like, accidentally functioning adults with actual jobs. You’re a big-shot lawyer who probably says ‘objection’ in your sleep, Nina is out there cutting people open for a living like it’s casual, Yoongi publishes books and complains like it’s a full-time personality trait, and I—” you dramatically pause, “make meals for a rich lady in a midlife crisis who pays me like I’m coding the fucking Matrix.”

“Mhm. We’re definitely thriving,” Jungkook says, deadpan.

“And you and Nina? You’ve basically unlocked the ‘I have my life together’ achievement. Career, love, future wedding registry at IKEA or whatever. Meanwhile, I have a graveyard of failed situationships and dudes who think foreplay is vaguely tapping my knee.”

Jungkook wheezes. “Not the ghost of horny idiots past.”

“Oh yeah. I’ve become a certified sex coach by force. Call me Sensei of the G-spot. Or even a teacher of love."

“Jesus—why does that sound like the title of a cursed, low-budget porn?”

“Because it is, and I starred in it emotionally. And let me tell you—this one guy, Taehyung? If bad decisions were Olympic sports, I’d be bringing home the gold. But he could’ve made solid amateur content. 4K, no cap.”

“I’m actually begging you to stop,” Jungkook laughs. “My brain is trying to leave my body.”

“Too late. The images are already in there. Let them haunt you.”

“So that guy,” Jungkook adds, voice laced with something just slightly too casual, “Taehyung… Were you serious with him or what? Is he the one Nina mentioned?”

“God, no,” you snort. “Taehyung and I were strictly ‘I’m bored, let’s ruin our lives a little’ energy. We still hook up occasionally,” you add with a giggle, the clinking of dishes behind you making it sound even more nonchalant. “The guy Nina meant was Chris. I mean is Chris—man’s still breathing, unfortunately.”

Jungkook hums, trying not to sound too intrigued. “What happened with you and, uh, Chris?”

“Our relationship turned into an instruction manual—confusing, repetitive, and missing emotional screws,” you deadpan. “I mean, I love routines. I love brushing my teeth at the same time every day, watching trash TV on Tuesdays, organizing my spice rack alphabetically. But a routine in a romantic relationship? Bleh.”

He chuckles. “So, what, you just mutually… dipped?”

“We fell out of love. I’ve said it before, but yeah. It was like watching a candle slowly die but you’re too lazy to blow it out. But we’re mature adults now,” you add mockingly, “We wave when we see each other. Very civilized. Very grown-up. Sometimes I even pretend I don’t want to shove him into traffic.”

“Ah, true love’s final form.”

“And Taehyung?” Jungkook asks, trying not to sound too curious.

“UGH,” you groan dramatically, “it feels so weird talking to you about my sex life.”

And yeah, Jungkook feels it too. It is kind of weird. You guys only recently started talking again—like really talking—and now you’re casually breaking into the “so here’s who’s making me see stars” category of conversation. It’s awkward. But like… the good kind. The kind that cracks the ice instead of making you want to drown under it.

“But anyway,” you go on with a sigh, “he’s the only guy I can safely say knows how to do me good. Like, freak level: matched. Energy: dangerous. Results: mind-blowing.”

Jungkook coughs, nearly choking on air.

“Relax,” you laugh, clearly enjoying his discomfort. “I see him sometimes. Mostly during the weekends. Like, Friday nights are for insane sex, Saturday mornings are for pancakes. We keep it simple.”

“Wow,” Jungkook mutters, eyebrows raised as he stares at the road. “I didn’t know you scheduled your hookups like dentist appointments.”

“Kook, I’m organized,” you shoot back. “Just because I’m getting railed doesn’t mean I don’t believe in time management.”

“Jesus Christ,” he mutters, gripping the steering wheel tighter. “I forgot how unfiltered you are.”

“Oh please,” you snort. “I was always like this. You just forgot because you became all lawyery and respectable or whatever. Mr. Courtroom with a fiancée and matching mugs.”

“Excuse you,” he gasps. “Those mugs were a gift. And I am still plenty fun. I’m fun as hell.”

“You’re fun like… brunch with your mom fun.”

“Wow,” he says, mock-offended. “That’s low. Take it back.”

“Okay, okay,” you laugh, “you’re more like tequila number three and bad decisions’ kind of fun. Happy?”

“Much better,” he says. “Though, I’m still stuck on the fact that you’ve got a certified weekend dick schedule. Like—is there a Google Calendar involved?”

You hum thoughtfully. “No, but there is a color-coded notes app. Taehyung’s under red. Red means danger.”

“Red means dick apparently.”

You snort, almost dropping the phone. “Do you want me to start naming the colors or should I save you from a stroke?”

“Oh my god, please don’t. I already know too much. Red is Taehyung, green is probably some yoga instructor who reads your aura while hitting it from the back—”

“Just because I’m getting railed by Taehyung doesn’t mean I can’t have some visual stimulation somewhere else,” you say casually, and Jungkook nearly chokes on his own breath.

“I—wait, what?”

You laugh, the sound way too smug. “Lucas, the guy from yoga? I’m not hooking up with him. I just like to watch. Like, respectfully. From downward dog.”

Jungkook groans. “Oh my god, you’re that person.”

“What person?”

“The ‘I go to yoga to spiritually connect with my body but also stare at the hot guy doing warrior pose’ person.”

You hum, unapologetic. “Exactly. He plays the flute after class. Sometimes shirtless. Who am I to disrespect the art?”

“I hate that I can literally see this man in my head. Like, did he step out of a fantasy novel? Does he braid herbs into his man bun?”

“He does, actually. Lavender. Once jasmine.”

Jungkook wheezes. “I swear to god, you’re collecting red flags like it’s a Pokémon game.”

“Oh, Lucas isn’t a red flag. He’s like… a green flag dipped in glitter. He doesn’t talk much. Probably doesn’t even know I exist.”

“Right, so you go to yoga, spiritually align your chakras, and ogle a flute-playing fairy man while pretending you’re invisible?”

You grin. “In short: yes.”

“You’re unbelievable.”

“You love me.”

“Unfortunately.”

There’s a soft lull after that. Not awkward, just full of something unsaid. Something sitting between the jokes and the teasing.

So you change the subject before it gets too real.

“Anyway. Back to your love life, fiancé man. Tell me, do you and Nina also bond over herbal teas and chakra alignment?”

“Only if tequila counts as herbal tea.”

“Oh, you’re still fun. I take it back.”

“Sooo, is it spicy?” you ask, far too invested for your own good. You should be subtle. Keep it cool. Mysterious. Before you accidentally make it weird. But hey—he started it.

“We make love,” Jungkook says, all serious.

“Okay… and?” you press, already raising an eyebrow.

“What do you mean, and?”

“You make love—and what else? C’mon, give me something. A little spice. A sprinkle of freak.”

“Not all sex needs dirty details,” he says, half-defensive. “Sometimes it’s just… needing each other. Worshiping each other.”

You pause, blink. “Okay, cool cool. So you choke her and spank her at the same time.”

Jungkook chokes on air. “You said that, not me.”

“Damn,” you grin. “Didn’t know Mr. Worship-The-Queen had it in him.”

“Stop.”

“You stop. You’re the one who brought up the emotional part, I’m just trying to balance the chakras.”

He groans. “I should’ve just said missionary and moved on.”

“Missionary with eye contact?”

“Goodbye.”

“You didn’t deny it though!” you shout through laughter. “Jungkook, do you whisper poetry during sex? Tell me you at least moan her name like a dramatic movie scene.”

“Literally why are you like this?” he laughs, and yet… he doesn’t hang up.

“Sooo, missionary with eye contact, huh?” you tease, words laced with just the right amount of smug. You can’t help it. You do tease. And thank god this is a phone call, because if Jungkook could see your face right now? Disaster. You’re not cool. Your cheeks are heating up, your mind just shoved a not-so-holy image of him doing… that—and yeah, you’re definitely spiraling.

Your brain: please do not go there.

Your hormones: too late.

“Ugh, you’re at it again…” he groans, but there’s no heat behind it. “But yeah, I like eye contact. I like the intimacy during sex. Is it so bad a man prefers sex with feelings instead of cold, empty thrusting?” You can practically hear the eye roll.

“Hey, no shame in that,” you say, clearing your throat way too loudly. “Who doesn’t like a little romance with their raunch?”

“Do you?” he asks suddenly.

Weird question. Like… really weird. Why are you even having this conversation? He’s in traffic, you’re at work. And yet… here you are. Having this talk, of all things.

“I mean, yeah,” you reply, trying to sound casual, as if your entire nervous system isn’t short-circuiting. “If I have feelings for the person, absolutely. If I don’t… I enjoy a little emotionless, hardcore chaos on the side.”

“As you already mentioned,” he says, dry as hell.

You snort. “Listen, I’m just being honest. Emotional sex is great. But sometimes you just want to get absolutely wrecked by someone you’ll never text again.”

“…Are you okay?”

“Emotionally? No. Physically? Always.”

“I hate how much that makes sense.”

“You love it. Admit it.”

He sighs. “You’re lucky I’m not swerving into traffic right now.”

“Kook?” you say, your voice a little softer now.

“Yeah?” he replies, equally soft.

“I think Ms. Kim’s back. I hear her keys jingling like she’s trying to unlock a safe full of state secrets.”

He chuckles. “You gotta go play personal chef slash therapist slash accidental sex confidante?”

You groan. “Unfortunately, yes. The woman probably has a fresh batch of trauma and a craving for duck.”

“Well, bon appétit to both of you.”

You snort. “You’re insane.”

“Okay teacher of love, we’ll talk later?”

“Of course. Try not to crash the car thinking about missionary with eye contact.”

“Please—my therapist says I need fewer intrusive thoughts, not more.”

“Then stop calling me while you drive, dumbass.”

“Touché.”

You hang up smiling like an idiot.

The next three weeks pass in the blink of an eye.

Jungkook and Nina are officially back in Cape May, and to celebrate both love and their return to the city, the Jeons decide to host a get-together dinner. A cozy, intimate thing. Just the people who matter.

They’ve both transferred their jobs too—same careers, different zip codes. It’s a homecoming in more ways than one.

The guest list is lined up with the closest circle: the Jeons, naturally (minus Mr. Jeon, who was thankfully disowned when Jungkook’s parents divorced—no one’s mad about that), Yoongi and Nina’s parents, and your family. That includes your mom, dad, two sisters, and your brother—yes, the whole crew.

When you step through the doors of the Jeon residence, you’re instantly hit with warmth—figuratively and literally. The first people you see are Jungkook’s mom and his brother.

Jungkook’s mom wastes no time. She engulfs you in a hug that could probably fix global warming, ruffles your hair like you’re still ten, and says, “You’re the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen, I swear to God.” You laugh, cheeks burning, and mutter something that sounds like a thank you but could also be interpreted as a dying bird sound.

Off to the side, you spot your younger brother dapping up Jungkook’s brother like they haven’t missed a beat. It makes you smile—generational friendships like that don’t come easy.

Then comes Yoongi and Nina’s mom, and she practically bolts toward you like you’re a soldier coming home from war. She’s all over you—kisses, pinches, emotional declarations.

You side-eye the rest of the room for help, but everyone’s too busy exchanging hellos and catching up. The whole vibe is wholesome. Loud. Slightly crazy. The good kind.

“Mom, don’t strangle her,” Yoongi mutters, visibly embarrassed.

“I love her too much to kill her,” she replies dramatically, clutching her chest like a telenovela star.

“Let her say hello to the rest of us!” Yoongi calls out from behind his mom, looking mildly horrified as she squeezes you like a favorite plushie. You’re halfway convinced you heard your spine pop.

“Fine,” she huffs, releasing you with the flair of a comedy character. “But only because I need a drink. Loving people is exhausting.”

You stumble your way into Yoongi’s arms, and he kisses your cheek with a long-suffering sigh. “Thank God you’re here,” he murmurs, eyes darting around like he’s being hunted. “The moms already asked me when I’m getting married. Twice.”

“Great,” you deadpan. “So I’m next in line for interrogation.”

“Yup. You’re my human shield now. I owe you big time.”

Then Nina swoops in with her usual sunshine energy. “Oh my god, look at you matching with your siblings. Did you plan that? That’s so aesthetic of you!”

“No, no—it was totally an accident—”

“Mm, sure,” she sings, clearly enjoying this. “It’s giving family portrait realness. I approve.”

And then he’s there.

Jungkook.

Jeon Freaking Jungkook in a crisp button-down and that soft smirk that’s always two seconds away from a joke or a disaster.

He leans in and kisses your cheek. No hug. No extra second. Just a quick “hello” kiss, like you didn’t once teach him how to do laundry without shrinking his sweaters.

“Wow,” you say, smiling. “So formal.”

“I’m a changed man,” he replies smoothly. “One kiss per childhood friend. No refunds.”

You raise a brow. “Guess I’ll bill you for emotional damage later.”

“Add it to my tab.”

It’s funny. It's casual. It's the kind of greeting that says we've known each other forever—but also maybe we don’t know each other like we used to.

And all around you, chaos reigns—Nina’s dad is already halfway into a wine rant about sulfites, your little brother is plotting world domination with Jungkook’s brother over the grill, and Yoongi’s mom is trying to sneak you another hug like a ninja in heels.

It’s loud. It’s family.

And it feels like home.

You’re deep in conversation with Yoongi and your little sisters, Vicky and Leah, when Nina and Jungkook approach. Nina’s sipping something fizzy, her smile looking real enough—until you notice how tightly she’s gripping the glass. Jungkook looks like he’s walking into a landmine.

“Look at the happy couple,” Vicky chirps, her voice sugary sweet and fake as hell. Her smile could kill a man.

“Hey, little ones,” Jungkook greets, aiming a warm smile at both your sisters.

Leah beams. “Hi, Jungkook!”

Vicky just raises a brow and crosses her arms. “So,” she starts, eyes never leaving his, “you and my sister are suddenly friends again, huh?”

Jungkook stiffens. “Yeah. We’re… reconnecting.”

“Girl, why?” Vicky asks, snapping her gaze to you. “Did we forget how fast he dropped you like a bad habit when he got boo’d up?”

“Vicky,” Leah whispers, panicked.

“What? I’m being real. That’s more than most people here can say.” Vicky waves her hand vaguely in Nina’s direction. “Yoongi agrees with me.”

Yoongi backs away like she just lit a match. “I’m Switzerland.”

Nina finally chimes in, trying for calm. “With all due respect, I wasn’t the reason they stopped talking—”

“With all due respect,” Vicky cuts her off, mimicking her voice in an exaggerated, high-pitched tone, “I don’t remember asking for a single syllable of your input.”

You close your eyes. Jungkook coughs awkwardly.

“Look,” Nina says, surprisingly still composed, “I get that you’re protective. I really do. But you weren’t there. You don’t know what happened.”

Vicky scoffs. “You’re right—I wasn’t there. But you know what I was? A witness to my sister crying over a dude who forgot how phones work. And then you, magically glued to his side the whole time, never once told her anything.”

“It wasn’t my place—”

“Oh please,” Vicky rolls her eyes. “You think being someone’s girlfriend, soon to be wife—whatever gives you immunity? News flash, Nina: girlfriends don’t erase friendships. People do that themselves.”

Now Nina’s smile is gone.

“You don’t know everything, Vicky.”

“And yet I know enough to know that the math ain’t mathing. If it smells like betrayal and walks like betrayal—guess what?”

“Vicky,” you mutter.

“What? I’m the drama? At least I’m honest drama.”

Yoongi claps slowly. “God, I missed this.”

“Shut up, Yoongi,” you and Vicky say in unison.

“Wow,” Jungkook mumbles under his breath, “this reunion is going great.”

“This reunion was going great until you and Miss Perfect decided to crash the vibe,” Vicky hisses, eyes locked on Jungkook.

“Why do you hate me so fucking much?” Jungkook shoots back. “Y/n and I already talked. We’re good.”

“I don’t care about your little heart-to-heart,” Vicky snaps. “You know what? Let’s ask Yoongi. Because despite what he says, he is not Switzerland.”

All eyes turn to Yoongi.

He exhales like someone just asked him to defuse a bomb. “Look… I honestly think both of you were at fault for the fallout. And maybe… maybe it should’ve stayed like that.”

Nina blinks. “Wait, are you not going to defend me?”

“I’m not picking sides,” Yoongi says, calm but blunt. “And, yeah, Jungkook and Y/n did drift when you two got together.”

“Exactly!” Vicky nearly cheers, but Yoongi holds up a hand.

“But,” he adds firmly, “that happens. People naturally spend more time with their partners when they’re in a relationship. That doesn’t make anyone evil.”

“Yeah, but it’s still partly Nina’s fault,” Vicky presses.

“No, it isn’t,” Yoongi’s jaw tenses as he steps forward slightly, eyes sharp now. “You don’t get to throw blame at my sister and expect me to nod along. She didn’t pull some villain move. The distance? It was on both of them.” He points, first at Jungkook, then at you.

There’s silence.

Thick, awkward silence.

And right then, your parents approach the group, laughing about something they heard in the kitchen, oblivious to the nuclear vibes in the room.

Everyone quickly plasters on fake smiles.

But the tension hangs heavy, clinging to the air like smoke.

And the way Vicky glares at Jungkook and Nina as they walk off doesn’t go unnoticed. Not by you. Not by Yoongi.

And definitely not by Jungkook.

Leah tries not to meddle in drama. She really does.

She’s always the one who sees the best in people—stays quiet during arguments, lets the storm pass while she remains the calm in the center of it all.

But when she walks into Jungkook’s brother’s room, just looking for her jacket, and finds Nina hunched over on the edge of the bed, silent tears streaking her face—something in Leah cracks.

“Hey,” she says softly, freezes mid-step.

Nina straightens, quickly wiping her face with the sleeve of her sweater. “Hey,” she lets out with a shaky laugh. “Caught me in my Oscars audition.”

Leah walks closer, slow and deliberate, as if afraid to startle her. She sits down beside Nina gently, their knees barely touching.

“Are you okay?” she asks, voice barely above a whisper.

Nina shrugs. “Do you hate me?” Her voice is small. Fragile. Almost childlike.

“What? No,” Leah says quickly, hand already rubbing soothing circles across Nina’s back. “Of course not.”

Nina gives a bitter smile, still looking at the floor. “Vicky thinks I’m some kind of devil sent to destroy lifelong friendships… and I just—I don’t get it. You girls used to like me. When you were kids, I was like the cool older friend. What changed?”

Leah doesn’t answer right away. She threads their fingers together and gives Nina’s hand a gentle squeeze.

“Vicky is just… Vicky,” she finally says. “She’s always been too protective. She doesn’t know how to admit when we mess up. It’s easier for her to blame someone else, especially someone outside the family.”

Nina stays quiet.

Leah exhales, continuing softly, “But trust me—none of us actually blame you. Not really. Not even Vicky. She acts like it, yeah, but deep down? She knows the truth. She knows what happened between you and Jungkook and Y/n… it’s just life. Sometimes things fall apart. No villains. Just… timing and feelings and miscommunication.”

Nina nods, her eyes brimming again.

“You inspired me, you know?” Leah says. “I chose medicine because of you. You made me want to be smart like you.”

Nina lets out a wet chuckle, blinking fast. “I’m sorry I made things weird,” she murmurs.

“You didn’t,” Leah says simply. “You just fell in love with him.”

Meanwhile, in the living room, Vicky is livid.

You're sitting between your mom and Jungkook, laughing at something he just said—some stupid inside joke from middle school, probably—and she’s watching the scene like it’s a horror movie she can’t look away from.

She swears your eyes are sparkling.

She’s had enough.

With the speed and precision of someone on a mission, Vicky swoops in, plopping down on the couch beside you like a warning shot.

“Stop laughing at his jokes,” she hisses into your ear, her tone low but sharp. “You look like you’re giving him heart eyes.”

You blink, caught completely off guard. “What the hell is wrong with you?” you hiss back, cheeks flushing.

“Me? Nothing. You? You damn well know.” Her voice is still a whisper, but the intensity behind it is blaring.

You gulp.

She’s talking about that night. Years ago.

The one where you were a little too drunk and a little too sad, and in a moment of weakness, you let it slip—how in love you used to be with Jungkook. How part of you never really got over it.

And now Vicky, with her elephant memory and protective little sister instincts, is here to make sure history doesn’t repeat itself—or worse, that you don’t humiliate yourself again.

You open your mouth, ready to retort, to tell her to back off, that you’re fine, that it’s been years—but your mom’s voice shakes the room.

“Vicky! Let’s go and help Mrs. Jeon in the kitchen!”

Vicky rises like a soldier summoned by duty, but not before turning back to you and sending a look—a very loud don’t-do-anything-stupid look.

Then both of them are gone, and you’re left sitting there with Jungkook again.

Alone.

And unfortunately for your sanity, he’s still grinning at you like he never broke your heart.

“I never really got the chance to apologize for Vicky’s little… performance earlier,” you say, scratching the back of your head, eyes flickering anywhere but him. “I’m really sorry, Kook. I’ll talk to Nina too. She didn’t deserve that.”

Jungkook shakes his head, a small, tired smile on his lips. “There’s no need to apologize. I get it—Vicky’s got her version of the story. And I know how she is.” He lets out a breath through his nose. “I just wish she didn’t hate me so much. She used to really look up to me.”

You nod slowly, the corner of your mouth pulling into a bittersweet smile. “Yeah… she really did. You were her role model back then. You were everyone’s favorite.”

He chuckles softly at that, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes.

“I think,” you continue gently, “when we stopped being close, it wasn’t just me who lost you. She lost you too. And for her, that felt like betrayal—like abandonment.” You glance up at him. “She doesn’t know how to grieve things quietly. So she gets loud instead.”

He’s quiet for a moment. “I never thought about it like that.”

“Well… you were her hero,” you say with a small laugh. “Still might be. Deep, deep down under the layers of rage and sarcasm.”

That earns you a real smile from him—soft, sad, but real.

“You really think so?”

“I know so,” you say, meeting his gaze. “She doesn’t waste that much energy hating someone unless she loved them first.”

“Hmmm, I’ll keep that in mind,” he says sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck. “Who knows, maybe she’ll stop hating me one day.”

“Whew, hold up, soldier,” you smirk, elbow nudging his arm gently. “Let’s not get too ambitious. Baby steps.”

He lets out a real laugh, low and familiar. It rolls out of him so easily, it makes something settle in your chest. The tension thins. The air between you shifts back into something softer. Normal. Familiar.

“So…” he leans into the couch cushions a bit more, his arm brushing yours for a second too long. “Are you excited I’m back?”

You glance at him, a smile playing on your lips. “Yeah,” you say quietly. “I am.”

He smiles at that. Like he was hoping you’d say it. He’s thinking about something—hesitating—his eyes flickering to your face and then away like he’s trying to piece something together in his head.

“Do you wanna, I don’t know… do something tomorrow? Just the two of us. Like before?”

You raise a brow. “What, like sneak into The House and get drunk listening to The Smiths in your mom’s basement again?”

He chuckles, shaking his head. “I mean, I wouldn’t say no. But I was thinking more Smiths and The House—less drinking. I start work the day after tomorrow, and I really don’t want to show up hungover.”

You bite back a smile, pretending to mull it over. “Okay, sure. Fine. Whatever you want, Mr. Responsible Adult.”

“Awesome.” His grin is soft. A little crooked.

Your eyes meet. And for a second, it’s calm. Not uncomfortable, not awkward. Just calm.

And in that quiet, something passes between you. Unspoken. Personal. A flicker of an old bond that never really went away.

The moment is soft, humming with something you can’t quite name. Like standing at the edge of a sentence that hasn't been spoken yet. Jungkook looks at you like he wants to say something—like he’s about to reach across the space between you, bridge the gap, touch you, hug you.

And then—

Plop.

Mrs. Min drops herself between the two of you on the couch like it’s musical chairs and she won. She lets out a delighted little laugh, already turning to you with a conspiratorial glint in her eye.

“So, sweetheart, when are you going to give my son a real chance?”

You blink. “What?”

She winks. “C’mon, you know what I’m saying.”

Your brows knit, confusion crawling all over your face as she leans in closer.

“You knowww,” she whispers, dramatically, as if you're filming a soap opera together, “Yoongi. You two would make the most adorable couple. Honestly? Way better than Jungkook and Nina—don’t tell Nina I said that.”

You burst into awkward laughter, trying to mask the what is even happening expression you’re wearing. “We’re just friends, Mrs. Min.”

She waves a hand like she’s brushing away nonsense. “Friends get married aaaaaall the time. It’s your time now. I'm telling you, the wedding would be so stylish.”

You scramble to change the subject—anything to steer away from the you + Yoongi fantasy Mrs. Min is clearly crafting like a Pinterest board in her head.

But as you turn slightly, eyes catching on Jungkook, something shifts.

His smile is gone.

Jaw set.

Fingers curled tightly around the glass in his hand, knuckles almost white. He’s looking at you, but the expression on his face—it’s not the same as before. It's guarded. Searching. Like there’s something behind his eyes that he doesn’t want you to see.

Like he knows something you don’t.

A truth he’s holding onto, too tightly.

And the look he gives you—it swallows you whole.

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[wttcsms]

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖࣪ hallmark holiday !!

ᝰ.ᐟ tis the season to sit by the fireplace and indulge in cheesy, cliche, ever-so-predictable hallmark movies where we know the main couple will always get their happily ever after. alternatively: a scenario post detailing the cliche holiday romance you and your fave would be ♡ྀི ( fem!reader & sfw )

starring keiji akaashi, atsumu miya, shoyo hinata, seishiro nagi, shoei barou, yoichi isagi, jinpachi ego, noel noa, rin itoshi, oliver aiku, kento nanami, naoya zenin, porco galliard, colt grice, levi ackerman

:¨ ·.· ¨: `· . haikyuu films coming to a theater near you ౨ৎ

⋆⁺₊❅. dedicated to you starring keiji akaashi synopsis keiji akaashi finally gets his dream promotion to the literature department — sort of. see, first he's given what the company calls a "trial run", where they're testing to see how well he'll do. if this book that he edits makes it to the bestseller's list within its first month of publication, he gets the position permanently. fail, and he doesn't just get demoted — he gets fired. this dream of his becomes a nightmare whenever he realizes the author they're assigning to him is you — famous literary critic turned author. well, almost an author. this will be your first book you're ever writing. see, you've got a bit of a reputation. your reviews of novels, whether they'e indie books available only on kindle unlimited or works considered to be modern classics, are nothing short of scathing. rarely is there ever a book that seems to impress you. and while your reviews are valid, a group of scorned writers (who are all beloved by the booktok community, which, in your opinion, invalidates everything they do by default) publicly challenge you: if their writing is so bad, why don't you publish a book and show them how it's done?

exclusive sneak peek! "so you're my editor?" you raise an eyebrow at the man sitting across from you. he's wearing a brown blazer, his hair neatly parted with gel, and he has such a mild-mannered aura about him that you want to groan in agony. of course, the only shmuck who'd be willing to touch your book (book is generous; you barely have half of a first draft) would be some dweeb who's probably been out of work for like, the last year. "yes. i'm keiji akaashi. we spoke over email." he reaches into his workbag, probably to hand you a business card that you'll end up tossing in the cafe's trashcan. "oh. from the tone of your emails, i was expecting someone..." you don't finish your sentence. "someone what?" he asks. "it's nothing." you wave your hand, as if to tell him that the comment was useless anyway. "listen, i'm sure i'm not your ideal client, but we don't have to keep meeting. i'll make your job easy by making sure you never have to edit or touch a single letter on my drafts. just let me handle this my own way, and i'm sure—" "no." you don't normally let people interrupt you, but the shift in his tone makes you pause. you stare at him curiously, only this time, you notice that keiji akaashi doesn't seem so mild-mannered right now. he continues. "i'm not sure where you got the bright idea that you would just write this book on your own, but you don't make a deal with a major publishing house just to go about the project like all the indie authors you criticize in your little column. the minute you signed that contract, you became my responsibility." akaashi looks you in the eyes as he tells you, "so from this point forward, your book is about to become our book. and i only plan on producing bestsellers." you smile at that, leaning forward and matching the intensity of his gaze. "good. because i only plan on writing a bestseller."

⋆⁺₊❅. make it to christmas starring atsumu miya synopsis break-ups can be tough. coming home for the holidays can be tougher. combine these two situations, and throw in the fact that no one can know about said break-up, and this might be the toughest situation to go through. here's the deal: you and atsumu, who've been together for the past four years, are deemed "most likely to get married". your friends, family, and even strangers on the internet all think you two are the couple that will make them believe in the power of love again. with this type of pressure, neither of you are willing to wreck the holiday spirit by announcing your break-up, and really, mama miya just got a particularly bad diagnosis. the last thing either of you want to do is break her heart some more. so, you both agree to pretend to still be together, all for the sake of "saving christmas", so to speak. but then, mama miya walks in on the two of you in the kitchen at the worst possible moment. atsumu is down on one knee, kneeling in front of you. finally, some good news this season: her baby boy is getting married to the love of his life.

exclusive sneak peak! "atsumu, this whole thing is a mess!" you whisper-shout at him, leaning down and examining the space beneath the floor kitchen cabinets in search of your missing earring. "well, you can't back out now!" he whisper-shouts back, crawling on all fours to help you look for the damn earrings osamu's new girlfriend gifted you. "what would we tell everybody?" "how about the truth?" "we will tell them the truth! right after christmas." "you idiot, your mom has her next appointment the day after christmas! the whole point i agreed to this was so that way we wouldn't crush her with a whole day of bad news!" "you're right." your back is turned to him, but even without looking, you know he's nodding his head. "we should just wait 'til the month's over then." "that's even worse!" now you finally do turn around, crossing your arms against your chest. "i really think this was a bad idea. we need to figure out how to come clean before this whole thing blows up in our faces." he sighs, knowing that you're right. you always are. it's what he loves — loved; he's not quite sure if he's still allowed to use the L-word concerning you — about you. then, he perks up, catching a glint of your missing earring. propping himself up on his good knee, he presents the ring to you earnestly. "oh!" you grin, happy that atsumu found the damn thing. now, osamu's girlfriend will be properly placated. before you can reach for it, three things happen in rapid succession. one: the kitchen door swings open. two: mama miya assesses the situation quickly, and lets out the biggest shriek of excitement heard 'round the world. three: this whole thing definitely just blew up in your faces.

⋆⁺₊❅. v for valentine starring shoyo hinata synopsis you hate valentine's day — after you found out your (former!) boyfriend of three years was cheating on you on this very special holiday, you see what the 14th is all about. commercialized "love": packaged in bright pink packaging and red hearts that get sold to unsuspecting fools. however, as a wedding planner, you still have to love love. it's just hard to whenever the wedding you're planning is set for feb. 14th... and it's to your ex-boyfriend and the girl he cheated on you with. you know it's petty and ridiculous and horribly immature, but you're plotting and scheming ways to ruin their wedding without it being tied directly back to you. the only obstacle in your way, though, is the bride-to-be's annoying cousin who immediately catches onto your plans and seems intent on putting a stop to you.

exclusive sneak peek! "what do you think you're doing?" you jump up, startled at the sudden intrusion. everyone else is supposed to be occupied, oohing and ahhing at bridezilla's reception dress reveal. "nothing." you say, in that tone of voice that makes it very, very obvious to anyone who can hear that you were definitely up to something. "really?" hinata asks. "because it looks like you're trying to convince the dog to tear up my cousin's high heels." busted. (you're too flustered and trying to come up with an excuse as to why there's peanut butter on his cousin's designer heels that you don't notice the way hinata looks like he's trying to hold back his laughter.)

:¨ ·.· ¨: `· . blue lock films coming to a theater near you ౨ৎ

⋆⁺₊❅. married by christmas starring seishiro nagi synopsis as the only daughter of the mikage business empire, not to mention having an older brother who could care less about the family business, you should be rightfully inheriting a good majority of mikage corp. on the day of your twenty-fifth birthday, you anticipate the metaphorical keys to your family's empire. instead, you receive the worst news of your life: reo's going to lead mikage corp starting on christmas day (a gift that he never asked for), and since you're still unmarried at the decrepit age of twenty-five, your grandparents are demanding you start going on blind dates with the men they've found for you. when you angrily confront your parents, wanting to know why everything will be handed to reo, who doesn't even want this responsibility, the answer is clear: they need a man to be the face of mikage. if you marry someone, even if you're the one pulling the strings from behind, you can still inherit the business by having your husband look like the one in control. your parents know that you don't want to get married, but what they don't know is that you're willing to do anything to get what you've worked so hard for. you didn't spend years abroad to study at the best business school in the world and to build connections all for it to go down the drain. but then you realize that all these men your grandparents found for you won't be willing to just sit back and let you do all the work. they want power of their own. where in the world could you possibly find someone you can trust to be married to in these conditions? and then it dawns on you: your older brother's best friend! from what you remember of him during high school, nagi wants nothing more in life than to just be able to make easy money and relax, left to his own devices. he's never taken advantage of reo, so he'll probably stay loyal to you. and a quick google search reveals that nagi's never even been in a public relationship. he's perfect.

exclusive sneak peek! "you bought me a ring?" you stare at the velvet box resting on your living room table, eyeing it like a bomb that might explode at any minute. "huh? oh yeah, why?" nagi's voice is cracking through the speaker of your phone. you're not sure where he is; you don't really know much about your husband-to-be, you realize. you should get him to email you his daily schedule. you plan on making note of that in your outlook calendar, after this call. "i didn't expect you to get me a ring." you frown. "forward me the invoice for it, and i will make sure to reimburse you. in the future, please refrain from making any purchases related to our relationship unless i clearly allow it and expect it. christmas in front of my family, and public birthday celebrations, for example, are occasions in which i'll allow gift-giving." "you're sayin' my future wife doesn't want gifts?" nagi wants to choke reo. he's the one who said you expected to be spoiled, and all the guys on his team seem to be adamant that buying gifts for your significant other is the way to go. if he knew you were going to start talking business around him, he wouldn't have gone through the hassle of finding a decent jeweler in this city. "this is a business partnership, nagi. not a romantic relationship. in business, you buy gifts only to bribe. are you trying to bribe me right now?" no, he thinks. he was only trying to make you happy.

⋆⁺₊❅. a king for christmas starring shoei barou synopsis serving as king but hated by a small, powerful group of witches, the ruler of the kingdom, shoei barou, is cursed and expelled to another world where his tyranny will not be tolerated. the only way to return back to his world is for him to learn benevolence and empathy. they certainly gave him a challenge; it'll be hard to be kind and empathetic whenever you're magically transported to the twenty-first century without a single clue as to how the world works. luckily, he ends up transported here, unconscious, on the front porch of a tired, overworked, graveyard shift ER nurse. you signed an oath to protect and save all lives, so you can't exactly kick the large man passed out by your front door, now can you?

exclusive sneak peek! "where is your horse?" barou asks you, following you around your house. him being your shadow is odd, considering how he towers over you so much, he's actually casting a shadow onto you. seriously, he's blocking the sunlight peeking through your blinds. "my horse? you think i'm a horse girl?" you whirl around to meet him, nearly bumping into his muscular chest as you do so. he makes a face, not sure what to make of your exclamation. "how will you travel into town?" "like everyone else. with a car." you hold up your key fob, and he immediately snatches it from your hands, staring at the fob curiously. "you travel using this?" he points to it, and you nod. "witch." he says. "what did you just call me?" you stare at him, stunned. "witch." he repeats, still holding onto your key fob. "to travel in a contraption so small... magic is the only reasonable explanation. you must be a witch. why didn't you tell me this sooner? we can use this—this car, and you can take me back to my kingdom at once!" he straightens his back, holding your key fob out of your reach. "witch, i demand you transport me back home." "i should've kicked you when i had the chance." you mutter, wondering how hard this stranger banged his head to forget what a car is.

⋆⁺₊❅. the perfect playbook starring yoichi isagi synopsis bastard munchen is forcing all of its players to dedicate their time during the holiday season to an approved community outreach initiative. isagi sees nothing better than to return to his hometown, and help volunteer to coach the local little league team that's 1) underfunded and 2) currently coached by the only person kind enough to volunteer: you, the fresh-out-of-college brand new, bubbly elementary school teacher. yoichi might not be the biggest believer in team work makes the dream work, but you don't make a bad teammate... not in the slightest.

exclusive sneak peek! "isagi," you frown as you stare at the whiteboard, trying to make sense of all the x's and o's and arrows he's scrawled on them. "you want to train this group of seven to nine year olds... to become strikers?" he nods, pleased that you're finally starting to see his vision. "yes, exactly!" "the recreational elementary-aged youth team... is going to undergo a simulation of what you went through as a high school boy?" "well, it'll be tweaked accordingly. with your guidance, of course! it'll be a more tame version, but i'm sure the results will be the same." when he smiles at you like that, you can't help but want to give in. "and besides, i'm proof that project blue lock is a very beneficial program. look how i turned out!" you think back to when you curiously searched him up on the internet. "top 10 isagi crash-outs on the field" was not the result you were expecting. but he's been nothing but kind and enthusiastic around you and the kids. it's not like he's some egotistical maniac who only cares about soccer, right? "okay." you nod slowly. "project baby blue lock it is, then."

⋆⁺₊❅. cease and assist starring jinpachi ego synopsis former collegiate athlete with a professional career ahead of you, your dreams of becoming the world's best women's soccer player gets crushed the minute you suffer the worst injury possible. now, you spend your time trapped in an office, working for the japan football association, waiting for the decades to pass you by so you can finally retire and die. until the head of the association pulls you to his office and lets you know that you're going to be going undercover; apparently, jinpachi ego is creating a soccer program that's supposedly going to change japanese soccer, and he wants you to report back to him and the jfa so they can anticipate everything ego plans on throwing at them. hired to project blue lock as ego's personal assistant, you spend practically the whole day with him. he's annoying, never listens to your advice, mansplains everything, and refuses to eat anything resembling a vegetable unless you force it down his throat. he's also the only person to match your passion for the sport, and the only one to call you out for not continuing to chase your dreams. the more time you spend by his side, the less and less you want to report to the jfa...

exclusive sneak peek! "sir," you grit your teeth, clutching onto the files in your hand because you know if your hands are unoccupied, you'd be sprinting across the room so you could personally choke jinpachi ego out. "i have an mba from the top business school in this country. i've played soccer since i was a child, and was one of the most decorated d1 players back in college. i know i'm just your assistant, but i can promise you, i am capable of far more than heating up your cup ramen." he doesn't even turn around his chair so he can face you; instead, he's still laser focused on the massive monitor in front of him, his eyes occasionally flickering to the other dozen screens surrounding the room. he doesn't even acknowledge your words. "are you seriously going to ignore me?" you snap, strangling the poor papers in your grasp. "are you done speaking? last time i tried to answer back, you yelled at me for not letting you finish." he still isn't looking at you, but you're certain he sees the nasty scowl that crosses your face. somehow, ego is capable of seeing everything. "forget it. you're impossible." "and you're a failure of a player." he tells you, right before you can storm out. "excuse me?" "you keep talking about how good you were at soccer, yet you never even bothered to pursue it after you got out of physical therapy. good in college doesn't mean anything when it's been so long. that's why i don't listen to you." he turns his chair, finally staring at you. "when you prove to me that you're still as good as you claim you used to be, maybe i'll take your advice. until then, get out of my office until i call you back."

⋆⁺₊❅. the only exception starring noel noa synopsis at thirty-three years old with not a single serious romantic relationship for the past decade or so, and with society basically treating any single woman in her thirties like a cow put out to pasture, you have come to terms with the fact that you'll be a spinster. it's fine. you have a successful career in a male-dominated field, you're still as beautiful as ever, and it's not like romantic love is going to fill the void. you have a supportive family and even more supportive friends; you don't need anything else. at thirty-five years old, with a successful soccer career and a body still performing at peak physical fitness, noel noa is considered to be one of the most eligible bachelors in the world. the public considers him to be at his prime, even. and yet, he seems to want nothing to do with romance. he plays his sport, he does a damn good job of it, and then he goes back to his isolated home in the french countryside to spend his days and nights entirely and utterly alone. for two people content to spend the rest of their lives without a partner, the minute you walk into his life as the new assistant coach for bastard munchen, you both slowly start to realize that maybe, you both could just try being alone together.

exclusive sneak peek! he doesn’t pay you any attention whenever you enter the locker room; after all, this isn’t the first time one of his teammates’ girlfriends walked in here unannounced. he can only hope that your heated rant and accusations of cheating don’t take a long time because practice starts in ten minutes, and noel noa is known to be particularly anal when it comes to sticking to a strict schedule. “hey!” igor says, being the only one bold enough to block you from taking another step further in the locker room. “you can’t be in here, even if you are dating or related to one of the players.”  “well, that’s certainly a respectable rule, but it doesn’t apply to me.”  “i'm the vice captain of this team.” he replies, letting his title to do the rest of the talking. right now, in this room, he’s the authority, second only to noel. noel, who's too busy stretching his legs to really concern himself with something as silly as a female intruder in the men's locker room. the altercation between you two is nothing more than white noise to him. “oh? that’s nice.” you hum, before adjusting the lanyard around your neck so that the little ID card, the one that’s used to allow people entrance into the gym during practice, is showing. it must be brand new because it shines underneath the fluorescents of the locker room. “i’m your new assistant coach.”  well, you’ve certainly got noel's attention now.

⋆⁺₊❅. all in starring rin itoshi synopsis even with worldwide fame, rin itoshi still prefers to be left alone. deemed the "prodigal recluse" by the media, no one knows what he gets up to during the offseason. the truth is, rin returns back to his hometown and spends his free time training by himself in the frozen field he used to train in during middle school. he's never been found out here, and that's how he likes it. until you, an ambitious sports journalist visiting your parents during the holidays, gets lost and stumbles upon him playing soccer by himself. you're convinced that this is fate. no one else in your field has ever gotten this close to him, especially outside an official game, and you're begging him for an exclusive interview. you're persistent and annoying, and rin finally agrees, with one catch: you have to score against him on a one-on-one soccer match. (he just doesn't anticipate how persistent and annoying you can be. when you set your mind on a goal, you're going all in.)

exclusive sneak peek! "you have to admit, it's pretty impressive i even kept up this long." you're panting, the palms of your hands digging into your knees as you hunch over, struggling to catch your breath. the icy air makes every exhale visible. rin looks like he hasn't even broken a sweat. "a child could've kept up for even longer." he says, the soccer ball resting underneath his right foot. "if you're this tired already, you might as well just head home and go enjoy your vacation with your family." the and leave me alone goes without saying. "why? intimidated by my shocking athletic abilities already?" you think you've finally got your breathing situation figured out, and you straighten up. "i'm going to get that interview, itoshi." "if you say so." he shoves his hands in his pockets, his own breath visible in the icy air. "i'm ready for our rematch." you tighten your ponytail, giving rin such a fixed, determined stare that it surprises him. you really are serious about this, aren't you? "and don't think about going easy on me." the corners of his mouth nearly turn upwards. he matches your gaze, preparing to shoot the ball. "i never will."

⋆⁺₊❅. meet your match starring oliver aiku synopsis tired of cleaning up his messes and struggling to reform his playboy image, oliver aiku's publicist has to break out the business card locked away in her "in case of emergency" glass case. she's calling in the calvary — you, the celebrity world's most respected matchmaker. every celebrity couple you've set up has either dated for years (and more to come) or even got their happily ever afters by saying i do at the altar. you've got a one hundred percent success rate. you're making the perfect matches left and right. hinge who? when your publicist bestie calls you, begging to help her most troublesome client finally find love and quit playing around, you already know who she's referring to. oliver aiku. he's hellbent on ruining your perfect run, and you're hellbent on finding him the love of his life so he can finally settle down and stop causing your best friend to spend her whole paycheck on migraine medicine. in his hyper-competitive field, he's never quite met someone as obnoxiously stubborn as you — nor has he ever had as much fun playing games with anyone else. it looks like the two of you have finally met your respective match.

exclusive sneak peek! "what the hell is the matter with you?" you glare at him from across the table, but oliver doesn't seem the least bit ashamed. you're not shocked; you don't think he has the capacity for shame. "what are you talking about?" he tries to sound innocent, but it doesn't work. look at him — there's nothing innocent about the man sitting across from you. "i'm talking about you bringing another woman to the date i set up for you!" you hiss, trying to remain calm and not draw attention to the two of you. he takes a long sip of his coffee, dragging out the silence as you wait for his explanation as to why he wants to make things as difficult as possible. "i was just testing her." oliver is smiling. you want to punch him in his stupid face and see if he'll still be grinning at you. probably. he's annoying like that. "during a situation like that, you can tell if the girl's gonna be a struggle to deal with depending on her reaction." "you know what my reaction would be if you did that to me?" you lean forward, and he meets you halfway, also leaning in closer. he's still smiling. you hate his stupid smile. "oh? what would your reaction be?" "nothing. you'd never even get the chance to pull that shit on me. as if i'd ever be dumb enough to go on a date with the likes of you." you lean back in your seat, opening up your phone and furiously marking off girls from your list. the list gets smaller after every one of his failed dates. oliver sits back, too, watching the way your brows furrow as you stare at your screen, not even giving him the time of day. he never stops smiling; finds it hard not to smile when he's in your presence.

:¨ ·.· ¨: `· . jujutsu kaisen films coming to a theater near you ౨ৎ

⋆⁺₊❅. the roadtrippers starring kento nanami synopsis you're traveling solo for the first time ever after your fiancé breaks things off with you to date his 19 year old neighbor. kento nanami's a single father/investment banker trying to make it back home in time for his daughter's birthday. you're both trying to travel across the country, but when a massive snowstorm delays the same flight you two were going to take home, you decide to team up and just travel together to try to make it your respective destinations on time. from weirdos on the train, flat tires on scarily cheap rental cars, and posing as a married couple at a strict, christian-owned bed&breakfast, you go from strangers traveling cross-country together to being connected together in ways neither of you have ever connected with your previous partners before.

exclusive sneak peek! "whoa, you're doing this like it's nothing." you stare in awe as nanami rolls up the sleeves to his button-down, exposing his strong forearms as he turns the wrench, loosening the lug nuts of the flat tire of the rental car. "that's because it is nothing." he tells you, glancing up at you. you're wrapped up in his blazer, but the chill of the outside air still bites at you. "you should go back inside the car and wait for me. i'll be done in a second." "it wouldn't be fair." you explain to him. "you've been doing all the work this entire trip. braving the elements with you for a few minutes is the least i can do." "you don't have to do anything." he looks up at you, his stare bringing heat back into your body. "you don't owe me. i really don't mind helping you. if you really want to do me a favor, then go back inside the car and stay warm."

⋆⁺₊❅. snowed in starring naoya zenin synopsis you've never had great luck, but with your good attitude, you don't let life get you down. good karma finally comes your way when you win an all-expenses paid trip at a luxury ski lodge. this is where your good luck ends. apparently, the ski lodge accidentally double-booked the cabin: you're supposed to be staying there... and so is the rudest, most arrogant and condescending lawyer you've ever met. naoya zenin booked this place to get away from the city and work in peace, away from the incessant nagging of his family and employees. instead, he's met with even more inconveniences, the biggest one being you, some teacher from a small town he's never heard of and couldn't care less about. before either of you can head back to the main lodge to complain, a snowstorm comes rolling in, effectively leaving the two of you snowed in together for the time being. no cell service, no internet, and no one but each other. fantastic.

exclusive sneak peek! "where are you going?" he asks, eyeing your towel and pajamas in your hand. "to go shower?" you point to the bathroom door. after claiming he wants nothing to do with you, and then setting a ground rule that you can't speak to him unless he allows it, you figured he'd just leave you to your own devices. "unless i need permission from you to do that, too." "i checked the water tank. there's barely anything, and even less hot water." "and this is my problem because...?" "i need to shower, too. i know women have a tendency to take hour-long hot showers, but that isn't going to work here." somehow, you find it hard to believe any woman would want to be close enough to naoya to where he can track their shower-time. "fine. i'll take a lukewarm shower for fifty-five minutes then." you reach for the bathroom door handle. "will that satisfy you?" he's up in a flash, his body so close to your own. you've got nowhere to go but to back up against the closed door, trying to get some space between the two of you. "you don't want to know what'll satisfy me."

:¨ ·.· ¨: `· . attack on titan films coming to a theater near you ౨ৎ

⋆⁺₊❅. falling onto you starring porco galliard synopsis when you’re forced to return to your hometown to take care of your grandmother after her hip surgery, you’re roped into volunteering for the town’s fire department charity event. paired with the constant scowling firefighter who rescued you from a tree back when you two were kids and classmates, you’re tasked with organizing the firefighter calendar auction. between awkward photo shoots, bickering over decorations, and trying to outbid a local rival for the best auction spot, you start to see that maybe porco galliard isn't all scowls and shambles arrogance — after all, he's there to catch you every time you fall.

exclusive sneak peek! "no." "it's for charity, galliard." you toss him the santa hat, not the least bit shocked that he manages to catch it without batting an eye. "you're like, morally obligated to do this. unless you want to ruin christmas. that's fine by me, too." "i won't be ruining christmas. you're just a pervert." you gasp. "i'm not the one who came up with these positions!" "you're still going to buy the calendar." he points out. "yeah, for charity! not to actually look at it!" "you sure about that? because you seem pretty damn persistent that i should take off my shirt and let you take pictures of me in nothing but suspenders, my work pants, and this ridiculous hat." "that's the most stereotypical firefighter photoshoot for a sexy christmas calendar!" he pauses. "you callin' me sexy?"

⋆⁺₊❅. the one starring colt grice synopsis colt grice has the worst luck known to man. when it comes to pay-it-forward chains, he always gets stuck in front of a minivan for a family of nine. naturally, the only people who crash into his car are the ones with no insurance. he felt bad for a coworker during a work potluck, stomached some of their disgusting food, only to end up getting food poisoning from it. the only thing colt ever seems to have good luck with is relationships... specifically, his good luck seems to transfer over to the girl he's currently dating. see, the thing is, every time colt gets dumped, his exes always end up finding the love of their lives. all his exes are happily married or in long-term relationships, with all of them finding their soulmates right after breaking up with him. he thinks no one else in the world has luck as terrible as his, but then he meets you. after a conversation exchange during a long line, you reveal that it seems like every ex you have has found their soulmate directly after breaking up with you! which is when you two hatch a plan: in order to help each other find "the one", you both agree to date each other for a period of time and then dump each other, all in the hopes of finally meeting your soulmate.

exclusive sneak peek! "your soulmate is super lucky, by the way." "what makes you say that?" colt turns to his side so he can look at you. you're still laying on your back, gazing up at the stars above. "just... i can't imagine why anyone would want to break up with you. you're honestly the best boyfriend i've ever had." colt's heart jumps at your words. he's glad it's so dark outside; otherwise, you might see the blush creeping on his cheeks. you continue on. "i'm going to be really sad when we have to breakup." he knows it's not in the agreement, but he can't help it. he thinks, then let's not. instead, he swallows hard and makes a half-hearted joke. "don't worry. you'll meet your soulmate soon, all thanks to me." you laugh, but you don't tell him how you're really hoping that he's the one for you.

⋆⁺₊❅. girls just wanna have fun! starring levi ackerman synopsis you're the prime minister's daughter wanting to get the proper college experience during your very last year of university. he's your marginally older, no-nonsense, militant bodyguard. you're determined to check things off your college girl bucket list (skip lecture, eat questionable dining hall food, go to a frat party), and he's determined to keep you safe.

exclusive sneak peek! you’ve been meticulously planning this all week. the perfect outfit is tucked under your oversized hoodie, and you’ve even plotted out the quietest route to avoid any of the creaky floorboards in your family’s massive home. all that’s left is to slip past levi, who seems to have an annoying sixth sense for every bad decision you attempt to make. sliding your shoes on, you tiptoe toward the front door, holding your breath as you slowly twist the handle. almost there. just a few more seconds, and— “you have exactly five seconds to explain what the hell you’re doing.” the deep, authoritative voice freezes you in place. slowly, you turn to find levi standing in the shadows, his arms crossed, one eyebrow raised in disapproval. the flat line of his mouth isn't forming a frown or a scowl, but the disappointment is evident. “levi,” you start innocently, trying to cover your tracks. “i was just—” “if you're just going to lie, don't bother saying anything.” he interrupts, stepping into the light. his eyes flick to your shoes and back to your guilty expression. “where are you really going?” you sigh, crossing your arms defensively. “it’s just a party, okay? everyone’s going, and i’m not some teenager who needs her parent's permission to go out at night.” “you might not need your father's permission,” he says, his voice low and deliberate, “but you do need my protection. and if you think i'm letting you sneak off to some frat house full of drunk idiots without so much as telling me, then you’re dumber than i thought.” you glare at him, your frustration bubbling over. “you’re not my dad! i can take care of myself.” he leans against the doorframe, unflinching. “if you could take care of yourself, you wouldn’t have tried sneaking out like a common criminal." “ugh,” you groan, childishly stomping your foot. “why do you always have to ruin everything?” “why do you always have to make my job harder?” he counters, his tone sharp but his eyes softening just slightly. for a moment, the two of you just stare at each other. then levi exhales, rubbing his temples as if you’ve given him the worst headache of his life. “here’s the deal,” he finally says. “you stay home tonight, and i’ll consider letting you go to the next party — with me shadowing you the whole time.” your jaw drops. “you can’t be serious.” “correct. i never plan on letting you go to one of those idiotic parties.” he says. “now go change out of that ridiculous outfit you're wearing under your sweatshirt, and get some sleep. you've got class at eight.”

[pericardium-and-glass]

Angry about Lore.fm the "AO3 Audible app"

For those who don't know, Lore.fm is an app that's advertised as "audible for AO3". It uses AI text-to-speech voices to read fics on an app completely separated from AO3 and creates a local copy of the fic audio on your device. It is stated to be non-profit.

1. It's opt-out not opt-in, that alone is a red flag and worthy of suspicion. The only way to not get your fic used without permission is to email them - it is unsafe and dubious to hand out personal email addresses to companies you don't know.

2. It takes engagement and agency away from the authors. Readers using this app don't even need to interact with the original AO3 post. Only a link is needed to generate the audio. An extension would've been significantly more ethical than an app.

3. Valid criticisms towards this project are labelled by the developer as "ableist and classist". Most devices and browsers already have FREE screen readers available. Especially for IOS (since this is mainly advertised for IOS), the existing built-in accessibility screen reader is very decent! I'd know cause I've been using it for more than a decade!

4. The developers show zero transparency. The devs listed for this app are also in a company that made an AI WRITING/STORYTELLING APP called Spinoff. The fact that this information is hidden on the appstore for Lore.fm tells me all that I need to know. I found the source for this on this comment by CupcakeBeautiful. [Edit: Unfortunately, the comment has been deleted by reddit for some reason, so I have removed the link to it.]

This whole thing pisses me off. Once again it shows that people don't respect and don't care about actual fic writers. I wish people would stop exploiting fanfiction authors under the guise of accessibility. Please think carefully if this is a company/project you'd want to support.

I don't usually post things like this on this blog, but I don't think a lot of people are aware of this situation on tumblr. Please feel free to add any information that I've missed. If this post comes off as aggressive, I apologise. I am just very frustrated.

[panstarry]

In order to incentivize people to donate, I am giving away a set of three 11x17" risograph prints for free to one lucky winner! I can ship internationally to any country that the USPS allows.

💸 Donate $10 USD or more to enter! Each $10 donation to one of the fundraisers (linked below) counts as one entry. Donating multiples of 10 or to different gofundmes counts as extra entries.

💌 You must forward the email receipt of your donation to my email, mushroomsthatarechocolate@gmail.com, in order for your entry to be valid.

📆 Winners will be drawn on Wednesday, December 11th, 2024. I will reach out via email to confirm shipping information. Please be sure to donate and share.

List of fundraisers that have reached out to me:

(information current as of 11/15/2024)

@supportmyfamily1 (vetted) || £3,205 out of £30K goal

@ahmedomar3 (vetted) || €7,633 out of €50K goal

@aliandhadeel-family7 (vetted) || €1,798 out of €70K goal

@aya2mohammed (vetted) || €38,442 out of €50K goal

@hillesmahmoud (vetted) || €26,253 out of €37K goal

@albardawillhazem95 (vetted) || £12,840 out of £20K goal

@ma7moudgaza2 (vetted) || $19,829 USD out of $25K goal

@mohammedmadi20 (vetted) || €846 out of €30K goal

@/Farah94567558 (twitter) || £23,688 out of £50K goal

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Pent Up 2

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, virginity loss, age gap, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: you seek validation through online correspondence with incarcerated men, only for one to lock you down in turn.

Characters: convict/excon!Thor (silverfox)

Note: It’s an addiction now.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

The repetitious recording crackles in your ear. You sigh. ‘You are currently in queue. You will be connected shortly.’ You lean on the building’s facade as the noontime rush honks and stomps past you. 

You usually pop over to the cafe on lunch, just to get away from Jensen and the shop. Not today. You flick your thumb against your index as your patience dwindles. What if he got in more trouble and you spend your break waiting for nothing? 

Click. 

“Hello? Hello?” There’s a scuffing then he clears his throat. “My queen, are you there?” 

You don’t answer right away. His timbre is gristly and deep, an accent lilting each syllable. Somehow, you didn’t expect him to sound like that. It sends a chill through you as the rich tone stirs your guts. 

“Thor?” You babble dumbly. 

“Ah, my queen. My apologies. Another did overstay their allotted time,” he tuts. 

The affectation in his voice explains the cadence of his emails. You thought he was just super into Shakespeare or whatever. 

“My queen?” He drawls, “you are quiet.” 

“I’m-- I’m sorry,” you shuffle around the corner and hide in the alley, cheeks burning. “I’m a bit shy.” 

It’s the whole truth. Probably the reason you strike out so often. You lock up and don’t know what to say past a point. You didn’t get far this time either. What made you think this was a good idea? You seem to be chock full of those lately. 

“I understand,” he purrs, “I don’t mind doing the talking. How long I’ve waited just to hear your voice and it is like nectar. So sweet and pure.” 

You bring your hand to your throat and dig your toe into the cracked pavement. He’s smooth. Very smooth. You didn’t expect to feel like this. You full thought you’d be bored to tears. 

“Thank you,” you waft out breathily. 

“It is only the truth,” he assures. “And that picture you sent, how every part of you is pristine.” 

“Thor,” you utter. 

“Forgive me, I do have very much time for thinking and the words overflow.” He rambles, “when I am alone in my bunk and the darkness settles upon me, there is a dearth in my chest and yet my heart fills at the thought of you.” 

You let out a strange noise. His voice, his words... You think of the photo he sent. He isn’t ugly either. Shoot. Shoot! Don’t fall for it. He’s a criminal. 

“My queen,” he intones. 

You cough, “why do you call me that?” 

“Because you rule my world,” his voice drips like syrup. “You are all I think of. It is why I have behaved. I’ve kept out of the hole.” 

“The hole?” 

“Solitary,” he explains. 

“Oh...” 

“Did I scare you? I do not mean to. It is only how things are in here,” he sniffs. “I don’t like it. I am not a violent man,” he assures. “Yet, within these walls, it is needed.” 

“Yes, it would be...” you murmur. 

“But I think of you, my queen, and I restrain myself.” He hums. “I think of your gentle hands... and your lips...” 

Your cheeks are hot. You touch one and exhale loudly. 

“It’ll all be real soon, won’t it, queen?” 

“Yeah, uh, what?” You blink. 

“Yes, upon my release. I wish we could speak face-to-face but I thought a call could suffice--” 

“Release?” 

“Yes, it has been right about five years. My sentence is up. Provided I can bide my parole--” 

“Parole?” 

“You are surprised!” He proclaims, “I knew you would be. I cannot wait. I am counting the days.” 

“I didn’t... I thought... you don’t have a life sentence?” 

“Oh, no, no, no,” he chuckles, “though I know a few of those. Not very pleasant men.” 

You’re speechless. Breathless. You stare at the brick wall across from you. You swear you checked, they all were in for good. Dang. 

“Um, I’m on my break and I have to get back to work,” you croak. 

“Already?” 

“I was on hold... a while,” you eke out. “Sorry, I—gotta go.” 

“My queen.” 

“I hope everything goes well.” 

“I will call again--” 

“Bye.” 

You end the call and nearly drop the phone. Your heart is thumping. It’s okay. You never game them any fine details. You always keep it vague. He doesn’t know who you are or where you live. It’s fine. You’re fine. 

You head back into the shop, slightly dazed. You go behind the desk as Jensen hunches over a motherboard. You put your phone down and sit stiffly on the stool. 

“No coffee today?” 

“No,” you mutter. 

“Everything okay?” 

You shake your head and flick away the fog in your eyes. “Yeah, yeah, I just... I didn’t get much sleep.”  

You shift and put your focus to your computer. You open your inbox and go to the settings. ‘Delete Account’ lights up under the cursor. You learned your lesson. You’re not going to keep messing with these men. You had your fun and now it’s over. 

👄

The days grow dull. Life dims back to its usual cloudy malaise. Your mom calls to tell you she’s taking the kids away on a holiday and needs someone to watch the house. You try to think of any holiday you took as a kid. You only ever visited your nan or your aunt. 

You say yes. You need the extra money. Besides, your neighbours are friggin noisy. It will make your commute longer but whatever. 

Their house is nice. Your stepdad is loaded. And a jerk. When he started dating your mom, he made you get a job. You were thirteen and no one would hire you. You ended up going to the nursing home and playing checkers with the residents. It was volunteer only but he said the experience was worth it. You guess you had fun. 

You put your things in the guest room. You know better than to disturb anything else. A list of instructions is left by the door, right next to a camera. Wow, Andy, really? 

The change in scenery is something, you guess. Something different. No matter what you do, you just can’t seem to break the sameness. It’s pathetic that the most exciting thing going on in your life is this. 

You are sure to lock the door on your way out. Every lock, every window, has one of those censors that will alert your stepdad to your most minuscule mistake. 

The bus ride is longer than you like. The seats are dingy. Ugh. You get off downtown and hiss as you realise you forgot your thermos on the kitchen counter. That’s the thing, when you change routine, you’re bound to miss something. That one detail puts your whole day off. 

When you knock at the shop door, Jensen doesn’t answer. You have to bang on it several times before he shows up. His eyes are sleepy behind his thick lenses. You huff. 

“Game night?” You wonder as you enter. 

“Tournament. Got second.” 

“Second?” You scoff as you put your bag on the counter. “Worth it, then.” 

“Ha, I know. I got reckless. Blew it all.” 

“Jens,” you say as you get up on the stool and rub your eyes, “are there any prizes for these games or is this just you torturing yourself?” 

He’s quiet. That’s all the answer you need. 

“God, I need a red bull,” he mutters as he checks the aisles. 

“Me too, bud.” 

“What? You said those things are battery acid.” 

“They are,” you snort. “But I’m friggin exhausted.” 

“They got a dragon fruit flavour,” he suggests. 

You laugh again. “I’ll suffer.” 

He grumbles and goes through opening as you check the till. Despite the rough start, the day unfurls in its usual monotony. You sit and type, yawning as customers wander in with broken devices or hoping to sell some unused block from twenty years ago. 

You’re about to finish your last lesson in your marketing module when the door chirps again. You’re too focused to look up as Jensen leans on the counter and sniffs. He scratches his nose. 

“Hey, dude, anything I can help you with today?” He asks. 

“I am in the market for an affordable device,” the voice cuts through your concentration and tickles your brain. You blink and keep your eyes on the text. It can’t be. 

“Phone, computer, tablet?” Jensen asks. 

“Hm, I only need it for emails, truly,” the customer replies thoughtfully as he approaches the counter. “Basic but functional will do.” 

He stops on the other side. Stolid tension roils around you as sweat trickles down your temple. Meekly, you make yourself look up, assuring yourself of your own paranoia. 

The customer grins as his blue eyes are already on you. Your eyes round. It’s him! How in the heck? 

He’s older than the picture. His golden hair is longer and intertwined with hanks of silver which makes it shine brighter. His shoulders are somehow broader and he has a bit extra above his belt. His arms are hug, stretching the fabric of his flannel to excess. You gulp. 

“I have to go... pee,” you squeak and twist on the stool. You jump off so quickly, it wobbles behind you. 

You dip behind Jensen and flee towards the restroom. He grunts as your elbow hits him in your flight. You don’t look back. It’s impossible. 

You slam the door and lock it. You look in the mirror and slap your own cheek. Wake up! This is a nightmare. You pinch your side and yipe. Come on, wake up! 

It’s real. It’s real. You’re cooked. Oh god. 

You search for an out. Why is there no window in a bathroom? What if you had to do a two? Ugh, this is dumb. No, this is scary. 

You spin in circles, panicking. What do you do? There’s one escape and it’s past that six-foot-infinity man out there. Not just a man, a criminal! 

You could cry. You might. No, hold it together. This is all your own fault. You knew better. Why did you do it? Because you felt good? Ugh. How dumb. Men with no hope calling you pretty. You want to hurl. 

A knock has your shoes scuffing on the floor. You spin and face the locked door. 

“Hey, you okay?” Jensen asks. 

“Yeah, I’m fine,” you call back in a hollow voice. “It’s just... my time of the month.” 

“Oh... Oh!” He exclaims. “Is there anything I can get you?” 

“Jensen, go away,” you snip. 

“Right, uh... just... uh, right. I’m going.” 

You listen to his sneakers squeak away and you huff. You clutch your skull like it might explode. Maybe it will. That’s a solution, isn’t it? 

You know what you’re going to do. You’re going to explain to him what happened. He got catfished! 

Yeah, that’s plausible. Someone stole your picture and they pretended they were you. That’s so simple. 

You inhale and steel yourself. You’re going to have to lie harder than the time you broke your mom’s favourite vase. You need to earn this Oscar. 

You make yourself leave the bathroom. You stride out calmly and reclaim your perch on the stool. Jensen shows Thor a laptop as he explains its features. 

“Not very used. Apparently someone bought it for a great aunt but she only played Mah Jong.” 

Thor hums, “ah, and it is a bargain.” He rests his large hand on the counter. “I must be honest, I don’t believe I’ll use it much more. You see, I’ve only just come from a sentence in the penitentiary. A lot of this is new to me.” 

“Prison?” Jensen gasps. “Oh man, my buddy just got out on a stint. Sounds rough.” 

“Oh, a friend?” 

“He’s a good guy. You know, some people just have bad luck,” Jensen shrugs off. “I can get this set up for you easy. It’s already wiped, I’d have to dig out the charger, but I’ll throw in a laptop bag for free.” 

“Wonderful!” Thor booms and claps so you flinch. “I’ll take it.” 

“No problem. Now, I was going to offer some security too. I can get that installed with full setup. Eighty bucks. And you can come in any time in the next year for service.” Jensen continues through his usual, though he’s adjusted the number in the customer’s favour. You don’t blame him. The guy is a monster of a dude. 

“Perfect,” Thor growls. 

Your eyes flit up and meet his again. He grins at you and his hand slides closer to your computer. You squirm and quickly look back to your review quiz. He’s not going to say anything in front of Jensen, so you just need to play it cool. 

[fandomtrumpshate]

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Need to add a fandom? Realized you put an extra 0 in your minimum bid and need to change it from $100 to $10?

Be sure to get the edit form filled out by 10PM EST - that's about 2 hours from when we post this!

The edit form closes at 10; after that you'll need to email us your edits and we cannot guarantee they will go through before bidding starts.

Once someone bids on your auction, we will not edit it further.

Don't have the edit link in your email? First, check not just spam, but also Promotions and Social - Gmail has all sorts of places to hide emails these days. If you still can't find it, EMAIL US ASAP. This most likely means you either gave us a different email address or have a typo in your address, which will be a problem when we try to reach you when auctions end!

Bidders:

Get ready - bidding opens at 8AM EST tomorrow morning (Tuesday, Feb 25)!

Some bidding forms may be open before that, because it takes a while for Google to get all the forms open. Bids placed before 8AM EST will not be considered valid. If you see an early bid, let us know and we will remove it. Bids placed after 8PM EST, March 1, will also not be considered valid.

Take a minute to browse and make your list of auctions you're interested in....