#take care of yourselves out there 💜💜 | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

Visit Blog

Explore Tumblr blogs with no restrictions, modern design and the best experience.

Fun Fact

Users from the US are the majority of Tumblr visitors.

#take care of yourselves out there 💜💜

bts-trans · 15 hours

Text

📅 240607 Weverse Translations

Jungkook's Post ❇️

아미들 곡 선물 잘 받으셨나요ㅎ… 좋아해 주셨으면 좋겠네요:) 처음부터 여러분들 생각하면서 작업했었고 훅이 좀 길게 반복되나 싶을 수도 있는데 사실은 하우스 장르의 댄스와 함께 보여드리려 했던 곡입니다.. 퍼포먼스 곡인 셈이죠.. 근데 시간이 없어서 진행을 못 했네요 ㅜ 아쉽습니다.. 시간을 돌린다면 어떻게든 찍어놨을 텐데🥲 그래서 그 부분을 좀 이해를 해주십사 이렇게 글 남깁니다!.. (자신을 책망 중입니다🫠) 아무튼 벌써 11주년이 다가왔네요ㅎㅎ 늘 옆에서 함께해 주셔서 감사드리고 항상 아프지 말고 건강하게 계셨으면 좋겠습니다 또 여름이라 많이 더운데 더위 조심하시고! 그럼 안녕히..💜

ARMY, have you received your song present? Heh… I hope you like it:) I thought about you while making it, right from the start It may feel like the hook of the song repeats for a bit too long, but it's like that because it was actually supposed to be a House-genre song that was shown with a dance.. like a performance track.. but I couldn't carry that out because I had no time ㅜ It's such shame.. if I could just go back in time I'd find a way to do it but🥲That's why I wanted to write this post, to ask for your understanding!.. (currently berating myself🫠) Anyway, we're already approaching our 11th anniversary hehe Thank you for always being by our side I hope you always stay healthy and take care of yourselves It's summer now and really hot, so be careful in the heat! Bye now..💜

Trans cr; Aditi @ bts-trans © TAKE OUT WITH FULL CREDITS

#240607 #jk #jungkook #bts #bangtan #weverse #post

107 notes · View notes

tvrningout-a · 7 months

Text

being a person is incredibly hard, but i’m really glad you keep choosing to be one. i know sometimes it might feel like you’re bad at it; you’re wrong. you’re perfectly good at it, and the struggling is just part of it. it doesn’t necessarily make us better or worse whether we take it in stride or stumble and fall. but i do think it helps us to understand ourselves, understand our loved ones, understand that being a person is hard but not something we have to do alone. we were never meant to do it alone, and i’m glad i don’t have to.

thank you for being a person with me 💜

#i might delete this later bc i feel a little embarrassed but i hope someone reads this who needs to hear it #i had a talk with my friends that really needed to happen and i just really hope that despite how bad #i am with communicating that you guys know that i really do appreciate y’all and i’m happy to exist at the same time #as the lovely and kindhearted people i’ve met on this silly site 💜#pls take care of yourselves and pls remember we’re meant to lean on each other and support each other #as hard as it is to reach for someone’s hand pls reach out anyway #and remember you’re doing your best and that is always enough 💜#get ready to ramble | ooc

8 notes · View notes

tvrningout-archived · 2 years

Text

can i maybe ask for hc questions to distract me? i’m home and immediately had to deal with getting stuck in the middle of my family members having it out. i need to stop myself from fixating on it and i might as well try to be productive with my distraction :’ )

#the emotional tax of having to deal with this mess is too big for me to handle tonight so no thank you #if i end up going silent tonight that’s why though #bc if i can’t get myself to write i’ll just try to play a game or watch a show until i pass out #get ready to ramble | ooc #y’all pls take care of yourselves like it’s hard sometimes but be nice to yourselves 💜

1 note · View note

genderqueerpositivity · 2 months

Text

(Two images with striped backgrounds in the colors of the transgender and genderqueer pride flags, both images have identical text that says "Happy Transgender Day of Visibility" with the date "March 31st" below).

Happy TDOV! 💜

In these times visibility is more powerful and more dangerous than ever. Today is a day for showing up in the ways that feel most empowering to us, and for being visible for those who can't yet be. Trans lives are precious. There has never been a world without trans people and there never will be. Every day we survive is a win.

As we all know, this year the date of Easter falls on TDOV, so I'm sending an extra shout out to the trans Ex-Christian community today. Take care of yourselves today. Whether you still take part in the secular traditions of Easter or today will simply be another Sunday, know that you are a whole, complete, and beautiful person.

#happy tdov #trans day of visibility #transgender #queer #genderqueer #Christianity tw #religion tw #op #genderqueerpositivity

778 notes · View notes

astrologythingzzz · 1 year

Text

Astrology observations Number 2 💜

I'm soo happy, this is already my second post! 🥺

These are my personal observations, they aren't meant to hurt anyone. Take what resonates!

Mercury in the tenth/ mercury conjunct mc is a law placement

Do all virgo sun/moon/rising women nag about everything when they're tired/ stressed? I feel like they are also really bad know-it-alls sometimes

They are also the ones to point out how much you're eating. "Do you really want to eat all of that?" YES! I feel like their parents were very strict or criticising in their childhood! 🥺 I love you guys, but please stop. This isn't healthy for you and neither for me

Virgo and pisces paired in a birth chart is an indicator of working in the medical/ health field

They are amazing at caring for other people and their virgo makes them detail oriented which helps them at university

Pisces mc's are sooo creative! They love showing or even showcasing their creativity on social media

They could also have a really nice aesthetic on social media, they are the ones to post only aesthetic stuff

Ic / moon in Virgo. Their parents prioritised books and wisdom in their childhood. Could have spent many days in libraries or with many books around in general!

Sagittarius moons/ dominants or 9th house dominants excel at university. They are known for their success and good grades, especially in law or politics

Leo suns can be very insecure. I don't understand why, because they're so creative and generous, but somehow they are.

Please embrace yourselves more leo suns! You are great!!

Also, aquarius paired with aries or sagittarius in a birth chart is a massive law indicator. Even Aquarius sun in the 11th or 9th house is.

Jupiter conjunct sun individuals are just beaming individuals. They are popular, well liked and really lively. They love adventures and travelling.

Sagittarius Venus / moon women love horseback riding. They love horses! Of course this can apply to other sag placements, but I noticed these two the most!

Virgo risings are ethereal. Gosh I love their beauty

Venus conjunct neptune hide their romantic feelings. They are literally drawing hearts all over the room while being too shy to actually speak to the person they're in love with.

Definition of falling in love with a version of someone who doesn't even exist. 🥺

These are all that came into my mind. Hope you liked it and resonated!

Until soon, love you, byee💜

#aquarius sun #sagittarius moon #Sun in the 9th house #astrology observations #astrology #venus conjunct neptune #pisces mc #virgo ic #mercury in the 10th house #mercury conjunct mc #virgo sun #virgo sun pisces moon #pisces sun virgo moon #virgo rising #virgo moon #Jupiter conjunct sun #sagittarius venus

790 notes · View notes

saltpepperbeard · 5 months

Text

Just coming on here and giving everyone a huge hug this morning. We’re officially at the two week mark. We’ve all done so much, and so much has happened in that short time frame.

I know so many of us are tired, or discouraged, or burnt. But just know that all of you are so so lovely, and even the smallest things are so so appreciated. Whether that’s filling out the feedback forms, tweeting at the other platforms, reblogging information, being here to lift others up, or taking time to yourself so you can come back for another push later, you’re all doing so, so well.

If nothing else, we’ve all managed to come together, and to shower the cast and crew with so much love.

So I’m sending that same love y’alls way, too. Keep up the good work, keep those fingers crossed, and mostly importantly, take care of yourselves 💜🏴‍☠️

#OFMD #SaveOFMD #Renew as a crew #Adopt our crew #Know a lot of people are PARTICULARLY wiped with all that happened yesterday #So just know that I’m wrapping blankets around you and consensually kissing yalls foreheads #HOPEFULLY we can indeed woo a platform #And HOPEFULLY we can indeed see more light again #I’m going to keep pushing and pushing and pushing until Dad waves the white flag #And I of course others to continue shining as well #But ALSO do what’s best for you #Take a breather #Step away for a bit #Change tactics #Etc etc

228 notes · View notes

transmascaraa · 4 months

Note

Okay hear me out on this one. Imagine gaming with like a really shy s/o? Like gaming always does the talking and everything and they are just standing behind him AHH. I think it would be cute. If you can write please do<3 if you don't want to feel free to ignore it💜🫶🏻

Have a lovely day🫶🏻🫶🏻

bf!gaming headcannons!

don't worry, he'll take care of everything...

bf!gaming x shy!gn!reader

author's note: 10/10, love the request. HOW DO YOU GUYS GET SUCH GOOD IDEAS??? I LITERALLY HAVE NONE😭 anyways i'm glad that people actually like my work<3 btw i just looked at my followers and i'm at 94 help i'm freaking out is this a dream idk anymore i think i'm dreaming help

"don't worry, my dear. i'll take care of everything...."

-you're shy.

-like REALLY shy.

-but you had gaming, your bf.

-he did all the talking for you, not wanting you to worry a tiny bit.

-he wasn't the most extroverted extrovert, but he was extroverted enough to talk for the both of you.

-so, let's say, as for example, you have yo introduce yourselves.

-you'd be too shy, but he'd do it for you.

-"i'm gaming, and this is my dearest, [name]. nice to meet you." while you nodded, giving a look of approval to gaming.

-it was easy for him, wasn't it?

-not scared, not ashamed, just himself.

-you were the complete opposite...

-but it didn't matter anymore ever since you met him.

-well, he made you forget about it.

-he never wanted you to be sad.

-he never wanted you to worry.

-so he got rid of at least 5 worries of yours by helping you socialize.

-at some restaurants, he ordered for you.

-"i'll have sesame chicken, and they'll have [insert food here]." no need for you to do anything, but you just nodded.

-it felt unreal, really.

-he was there for you.

-he kept you safe.

-he helped you throughout life itself.

-and being shy was a little bit of a problem for you.

-well, it used to be.

-now he's there to fill that gap.

-you're glad to have him, aren't you?

~~~~~

atp idc if they're short i'm crying this is so cute to me

i hope this is about what you wanted @mariaace <3

thanks for the request!

#genshin #genshin impact #genshin headcanons #genshin imagines #genshin impact headcanons #genshin fluff #gaming genshin impact #gaming genshin #gaming x reader #gaming #gaming x you #gaming x gender neutral reader #gaming x gn reader #i have too many gaming content #i'm making up for everyone who isn't writing about him #trust me you really should because i said so #· nyx's genshin hcs *⁠.⁠✧

257 notes · View notes

kokomyass · 5 months

Text

JJK headcannons ☆ Characters as Dads

JJK x Fem!Reader

Genre: ☁️

Trigger warnings ⚠️: none!!

featuring: Gojo Satoru, Nanami Kento, Geto Suguru, Toji Fushiguro, Megumi Fushiguro, Yuji Itadori

synopsis: in which, the jjk men are given the real test of fathership

a/n: it seems that jjk won and we give the people what they want!

also, in this i’m just gonna do it so it is daughter because idk i just see them all having daughters yk?

i hope you guys enjoy, and happy new year too!! 💜🎵

Gojo would be such an immature dad. He would basically be another baby in the household, but that is what makes your daughter love him so much. He seems to love your daughter to PIECES and is always playing with her but when it comes to ACTUAL parenting tasks you best believe he is sitting out…only because he is incapable…

On the good side, he seems to be the perfect company for your daughter and whenever you get overwhelmed he subtly tries to help you out. Coming around and giving you hugs from behind to comfort you. Even though he doesn’t say it you can tell he doesn’t want to see his baby grow up.

“Sooo…do you want cucumbers in this sandwich or..? Gojo asked looking down at his daughter who looked at him with a look of disappointment.

Gojo was currently making his daughter a peanut and jelly sandwich, something he hadn’t even heard of before. Yet here he was making it like a chef…or so he thought..

“Dad…are you okay in the head? Who puts that together?” your daughter said with her hands on her hips looking sassy.

“Why you..!” Gojo picked up your daughter and threw her up and down making her giggle.

You walk past chuckling to yourself, watching your husband and daughter play together.

“Satoru, are you sure you can take care of her?” you knew the answer was probably no, but you trusted it wouldn’t be too bad.

“Of courseeee! You know I can! Plus our sweet sweet daughter will help me out! Right?”

“Of course, Dad!! We will have so much fun!” your daughter wrapped her arms around Gojo’s neck smushing her face into his as he hugged her back.

“Well if anything goes wrong let me know!” you give your daughter a soft peck on the cheek and press a soft kiss on Gojo’s lips before leaving.

At least they would have fun together even if Gojo couldn’t do anything properly.

Nanami is husband material and i think it is safe to assume he is also father material. This guy knows the ins and outs of parenting. If you saw how skillful he was changing your baby’s nappies…you would think he had done it a million times

Even though he may not be the most energetic dad his love for your daughter is evident…he lets her sleep on his chest while he is working, he makes her lunches, whenever you’re tired you don’t even have to ask because he can tell and he is already on it doing everything you would do. GET YOURSELVES A NANAMI!! 🙌🙌

“Dad!! Guess what?!” your daughter excitedly said jumping up and down by Nanami’s leg.

You had unfortunately fallen ill and even though you didn’t mention it once to Nanami, you knew he would notice so you took this time to nap on the chair in your living room.

“What is it,sweetheart?” Nanami smiled softly to his excited daughter as he cooked dinner whilst also making soup for you to drink later.

“In school today, the teacher asked what we liked about our dads! Can you guess what I said?” your daughter giggled as Nanami acted clueless as to what your daughter was saying

“I haven’t a clue…why don’t you tell me?”

“I said that you are the kindest, strongest, funnest dad ever and my dad is better than everyone else’s!” Nanami chuckled at his daughter’s words.

He paused his cooking to pick his daughter up.

“You really think all that about your me?” Nanami asked as your daughter played with his hair

“Of course Dad! I love you very very much!!” Your daughter gave Nanami a big kiss on his cheek as he smiled.

“I love you more, sweetheart.” Nanami said softly as he kissed her head.

Your heart melted as you couldn’t stop smiling at the scene in front of you.

Geto would literally banter with your daughter. Like if there is a day where your daughter and Geto don’t argue over something then they aren’t your husband and daughter…and it’s very obvious to see which personality your child took.

Despite the consistent arguments that they have, Geto is clearly extremely close with his daughter, they act like they are life long besties that are starting to get fed up with each other. Geto doesn’t seem to notice all the times that you see him lurking in your daughter’s room to make sure she is okay hehe….

“Ugh! Dad! That was my chocolate!” you suddenly heard your daughter shout, but you didn’t pay any attention to it as you knew it was your daughter and Geto up to their squabbles again.

“Hey…it wasn’t named how was i meant to know it was yours?” Geto smirked as your 5 year old folded her arms and smirked back.

“Well, father, if you remember yesterday, when we went shopping you bought it for me after I asked.” your daughter sassed back

“I’ll buy you another one…” Geto said as he sat down by you on the couch throwing his arms behind you.

“No. Share that one with me Dad, or I will tell mum what you did in the car two days ago!” your daughter stepped closer as Geto smirked.

“Why you little…c’mere…” Geto gestured your daughter over as she giggled and run over sitting on his lap and snatching the chocolate out of his hands.

“Um honey what happened in the car?” you asked folding your arms raising an eyebrow.

“Don’t worry about it!” both your husband and daughter said in sync.

After some attacking, you smiled at your two favourite people as they continued to squabble….well you love them anyway…

Toji would acc treat your daughter like a princess. You think he treats you like a princess? Wait till your daughter comes along and steals the throne.

There is not one thing he wouldn’t do for your daughter, and you are worried she will turn into a spoiled brat because she loves taking advantage of how Toji treats her and can carry her with ease. However you are grateful because you know whenever you can’t spend time with your daughter, Toji can shower her in loads of love instead.

You had gone to pick up your daughter from school with your husband, Toji.

“Dad!! Mom!!” you heard a cute and excited voice as you saw your daughter running up to you and Toji.

“My little princess, how was school today?” Toji picked up your daughter with ease as she hugged him tightly

“It was so fun!! Although that boy kept pulling my hair and it hurt..” your daughter said pointing to the boy

You could see Toji scowl, and you knew there was no stopping him.

“Honey make sure you don’t traumatise them too much okay?” you give him a kiss and kiss your daughter’s forehead.

“Don’t worry doll, won’t do much, just give a lil warning that’s all…” you sighed hoping that’s all it would be.

“Okay, i’ll wait in the car.”

Toji walked over to the mother, father and boy with your daughter still in hand.

“I heard your son here is pestering my daughter?”

“Our little Timmy would never!” the dad replied before looking up and being absolutely frightened by the tall built man in front of him.

“Yeah, well i don’t give a damn. Pester my darling daughter again and you are dead.” Toji said before walking off, leaving the family stunned and frightened.

“Dad you are so cool! You always protect me!”

“And I always will pumpkin, now let’s go see your mom.” Toji chuckled as he kissed your daughter’s head.

Megumi would lowkey be jealous of your daughter when she gets more attention that him. Don’t get me wrong he would be in love with your daughter but sometimes if he ever sees you paying attention to your daughter and not giving him attention he would silently be sulking.

Luckily all he has to do is summon a demon dog to play with your daughter and she is occupied so he can spend time with you. Despite this slight jealously, Megumi showers your daughter in love, playing with her (even if it involves him role playing a princess) especially when you aren’t looking so you don’t call him soft.

“Ahhh, please save me knight in shining armour!” Megumi squealed the best he could in a girls voice.

Megumi had been forced by your daughter to play princess and knights as usual and Megumi thanked the Gods that you were in the bedroom getting ready for an outing.

“Dad!! You don’t sound girlish enough!” your daughter complained as Megumi sweat dropped.

“I’m trying my best honey…but okay…” Megumi was obviously worn out from this game but didn’t want to hurt your daughter’s feelings.

He began his feminine voice again but as soon as he heard your bedroom door open he shut up earning a shout from you.

Luckily your outfit distracted your daughter as she started squealing.

“Mom! You look like a princess! Your a much better princess than Dad!” you giggled as you were curious to see Princess Megumi.

You gave her a tight hug and peppered kisses around her face.

“Who bless me with such a sweet little girl”

Little did you know, Megumi was feeling jealous already.

“Hey sweetheart? Look it’s the demon dogs they want to play!” that quickly got your daughter’s attention as she began playing with them and having fun.

“Love you Dad!” your daughter shouted whilst being suffocated by the dogs.

“Love you too….have I told you how beautiful you look my dear?” Megumi smiled as he kissed you.

You smiled at Megumi’s jealousy but not complaining…

Yuji definitely bought like 10 parenting books because he was so worried he would be a bad dad…but when your daughter arrived he didn’t need any of those books because he was a flawless dad.

Yuji would be fun and caring to your daughter and even if he didn’t know how to do something for her, he would find a way just to see her happy. It’s so cute and heartwarming seeing Yuji and your daughter together because their wholesomeness could make you melt.

“So you want pigtails?” Yuji was trying his best to do his daughter’s hair for the first day of school, despite not doing the style ever.

“Yeah Dad! You think you can do it?”

Yuji could hear the fear in his daughter’s voice. He knew how important this first day was for her and the least he could do was give her a good hairstyle to boost confidence.

“It will be the best pigtails hairstyle you have ever seen!” Yuji chuckled as you laughed and he got to work.

“Dad, I love them so much everyone will love me!” your daughter spun around, looking at herself in the mirror.

“I’m glad you like it sweetheart.” Yuji ruffled her hair just as you walked in.

“Hey honey, ready for school? Oooo i love the hair too!!” you asked pinching her nose.

“Thank you Mom! Dad did it! And yeah i am, i just wanna speak to Dad really quickly!” you raised your eyebrows as you nodded leaving and shutting the door behind you.

“Dad…I’m nervous…” Yuji’s eyes widened as he knelt down and laced his hands on your daughter’s shoulders.

“Honey, you are a bright, beautiful, kind, and outgoing girl. Be yourself and everyone will love you for who you are and if anyone pester you i will deal with them okay? You got this!” he suddenly felt his daughter wrap her arms around him.

“Thank you Dad…I love you!”

“I love you more!”

All you could do is soon from the sweet interaction between your amazing family.

a/n: hope you enjoyed! a bit of a struggle because i was writing on a shitty ipad so i’ll probably edit later

anyway, love you guys!💜🦄

#anime #anime fluff #jjk #anime x reader #jjk x reader #fyp #gojo satoru #megumi fushiguro #nanami fluff #nanami kento #geto suguru #toji fushiguro #yuji itadori #jjk fluff

239 notes · View notes

here2bbtstrash · 1 year

Text

look down on me like that - 10 (explicit)

genre: slow burn enemies to lovers hatefucking coworkers au, smut, angst

pairing: yoongi x reader

summary: your asshole coworker min yoongi has made it his personal mission to ruin your life.

word count: 13.1k

contains: there are some serious mental health moments and topics discussed in this chapter (and not all of them handled well 😵‍💫) - this includes mentions of anxiety and su1c1dal ideation, reader experiencing a panic attack, and there's just like.... quite a lot of self-loathing, emotional constipation, and horrible choices being made all around. would also maybe say some hints at gaslighting if you squint. please take care of yourselves for this one 💜 and yes..... no smut warnings for this one 😬 sorry 😬

A/N: besties...... hold my hand and trust the process, mkay?

an eternal thank you to @haliiimede and @monimonimoon for betaing and for doing extra hand holding on this one because 😵‍💫 omg it's a lot and it was a lot to write lmao

read on AO3!

chapter nine | masterlist

~*~

The headache hits before you even open your eyes, like an ice pick driven straight through your skull.

You roll over with a soft groan of despair, burying your face between the pillows, reaching one arm out as far you can, as if in search of something. Your splayed fingertips only find the down comforter; it’s cool to the touch.

With the kind of deep inhale that can only be conjured by an early wake-up with a terrible hangover, you blink your eyes open, immediately squinting at the harsh morning light.

The bed is empty on the other side. You sit up slowly, shivering a little. The room feels unsteady around you.

You press your face into your hands, trying to wake up enough to think through your headache. Last night… Last night. It feels like a dream you’ll soon lose the details of. The Grammys, the afterparty, K-town. It doesn’t feel real.

Yoongi said he loves you.

Your stomach churns.

So where the fuck is he?

The sound of a drawer opening makes your head snap up, and you quickly kick the bedsheets off, trying to ignore the way the world tilts as you get to your feet and pad out into the living room.

Yoongi is kneeling beside his open suitcase, folding up the clothes he wore earlier in the weekend and carefully placing them inside. He reaches for his toiletries bag, zipped up on the couch next to him, and sets it atop the last stack of clothing.

“What are you doing?” you murmur, rubbing sleep from the corners of your eyes. The words slide together, almost gibberish. You think you might still be drunk.

“What does it look like I’m doing?” Yoongi mutters, taking a final once-over of the contents of his suitcase before zipping it shut. He gets to his feet, then stoops down to turn it upright and extend the handle. “I’ve got a car to the airport about to pull up downstairs.”

“I— what?” You shake your head, confused. You’re barely alive, let alone packed or ready to go. “It’s so early. Our flight’s not til this afternoon.”

He’s already crossing the room, grabbing his laptop off the desk to slide into his shoulder bag, then reaching for his watch. “I had a change of plans.”

“You what?” You don’t understand how you’re so far behind on this, especially given that you’re the one who’s supposed to have the schedule committed to memory.

Yoongi sighs as he turns to face you, still fiddling with his watch, clearly exasperated. It's only now that he’s held still long enough for you to realize he’s wearing his glasses. “I’m going to Tokyo for a few days to work with some talent. There’s a whole thread in your inbox about it. Feel free to read it at your leisure.”

The dry tone of his voice stings like a slap to the face, enough to make you recoil. You take an unsure step back. “Okay, when did this happen?”

He slow-blinks, and you can’t help feeling like you’ve somehow gone back in time, like you’re standing in front of him on your first day of work. Like he’s your enemy all over again.

“I’ve been up for a while,” Yoongi answers flatly. “Any more questions?”

Your back teeth stick together, tense. The room is too bright, Yoongi’s voice too loud, all of this happening too fast.

“Uh,” you start, less than eloquent. “Can we— talk?” Yoongi stares at you pointedly until you feel forced to continue. “About last night?”

“Let’s see.” He pretends to mull it over, and dread creeps up your spine.

“I lost at the Grammys, almost got in a fight, drank my body weight in alcohol. The last thing I remember is… barking.” You’d smile at the memory, but your lips are pulled too tight at the sour taste of his words. “I assume you dragged my drunk ass back here and I passed out, then I stumbled out of bed around four this morning and promptly became very well acquainted with the bathroom floor. Did I miss anything?”

The question punches an ache behind your ribs.

“Don’t fuck with me, Min Yoongi.” Your voice comes out weaker than you would’ve liked, but it’s getting hard to breathe.

“What else?” he asks, still going faster than you can keep up with. “I was an asshole? Gave you embarrassing intel you’ll be using as blackmail when we go back to work? I didn’t barf on your shoes, did I?”

Why is he asking you?

You bring a hand to your temple, trying to rub out your splitting headache so you can process his words. “Are you… telling me you don’t remember?”

There’s a flash of something in Yoongi’s eyes, and though he drops his gaze, he doesn’t quite manage to hide the way his face twists. “If I said anything, let’s just say I didn’t mean it.”

No. No, no, no. Your world goes spinning. He can’t do this.

There’s a lump in your throat, so thick you can scarcely breathe. You try to swallow around it. “Yoongi, what the fuck is happening right now?”

You swear you can see it in his eyes, the wall going back up. It’s infuriating: he’s right fucking there, yet suddenly somehow unreachable. Impenetrable.

“I am going to Tokyo,” he says simply. “You are… doing whatever you want.” You stare at him, overwhelmed and so fucking confused. He stares right back. “I can still upgrade your seat to first class. If that’s what you’re worried about.”

Some final thread snaps inside you, and your delayed anger finally kicks in. “You think that’s what I care about right now? I’m not your fucking charity case.”

He outright rolls his eyes. “Jesus. Forget I asked.”

As if to signal that the conversation is over, he slings his bag across his shoulder and heads for the door, suitcase in tow.

“Yoongi.” You hate the way your voice shakes when you say his name. He turns back to face you in the threshold, his expression unreadable.

You don’t know how to say it. You can’t say it.

“So what, then?” you try instead. “I’m just supposed to… forget it?”

That you said you love me? That I might have been ready to say it back?

His mouth pulls into a flat line, and for a moment, he doesn’t say anything at all. Each second of silence that passes feels like another twist of the knife lodged in your heart.

“Guess so.”

And just like that, the door is slamming shut behind him.

In your head, you chase after him. Yank open the hotel door, sprint down the hallway, call his name loud enough to stop him. You tell him everything that’s been building up inside of you, let all the ugly truths out for him to see, said aloud for the first time, undeniably real. He drops his bag in the hallway, grabs you, kisses you breathless. He stays.

But you can’t make yourself move. Can’t bear the thought of unzipping yourself right up the middle, standing in front of him with every last wall torn down, defenseless and asking for the worst hurt you can imagine. Life has taught you better than that.

Your knees hit the hotel carpet as the tears start to fall. In your head you might be brave, but here in the real world, you’re scared. Too scared to do anything but watch him leave.

~*~

“I’m so fucking confused, Mochi.”

You’re curled up on the couch in your living room with your face pressed into Jimin’s shoulder and his arms wrapped tight around you. Delirious from a thirteen hour flight and the time change, your suitcase still lying in the hallway by the front door where you dropped it. True to his word, your best friend showed up within the hour, a bottle of rosé and a pint of ice cream in tow.

There’s no room left to keep lying, to pretend you don’t care about Yoongi, that it doesn’t mean anything. Not when it hurts this bad, bad enough that it feels like you can’t fucking breathe. At least the tears have finally stopped, now that you’ve soaked a wet spot into the collar of Jimin’s sweatshirt.

To his credit, Jimin seems to find no joy in your meltdown, and you’re grateful for it. The last thing you need on top of all the pain is him gloating about being right. You both know he is, always has been. The things you spent so long trying to deny seem obvious now, in the harsh light of day, at the bottom of this emotional hangover.

Funny how that works.

When you pull away with a sniff, Jimin sighs a little and gently untangles himself from you to get to his feet. You bring a hand up to swipe at some of the wetness still stuck to your cheeks, then reach for the bottle of wine while he slips into the kitchen.

“How did you know I’d need this?” you ask as you twist open the screw top. Your throat is rubbed raw from exhaustion, and from so much fucking crying. “You had that little faith in shit working out?”

Jimin returns with two wine glasses and two spoons just as you ask the question, and he pauses in the threshold. The unsure look on his face makes your stomach twist. Your best friend never looks at you like that.

“I have to tell you something, babygirl.”

You can feel your chest starting to tighten again as he sinks back down onto the cushion next to you, gingerly taking the bottle from your hands to pour a little in each glass. It’s like he’s biding his time, trying to delay some sort of inevitable reality.

“Please just say it.” Your voice comes out in a thick whisper.

He thuds the bottle back onto the coffee table with another soft sigh. “I’m leaving Seoul.”

The words sweep over you like a tidal wave, heavy enough you drag you under to drown. “You’re… leaving?”

“Not forever,” Jimin says quickly, but the look on his face as he takes a sip from his glass is telling. “You remember the group I did the concert with?” His gaze flits over to catch your nod, and he continues.

“They booked a whole international tour. Asia, Europe, North and South America. It didn’t look like they were going to scout any new dancers, but then someone got injured last-minute and they personally called me to ask if I could cover. And it’s so short-notice but…”

There’s a fire in his eyes when he looks up at you again, all determined passion. “I just feel like this could be the opportunity I’ve been working so hard for. And Wonho has been so supportive and understanding about it. He helped talk me through it, reminded me how much I want this. So I said yes. And I’m going.”

You’re quiet for a moment, and you can only nod, trying to wrap your mind around it all. “For how long?”

He grimaces. “Six months, at least? Could be more if they decide to extend it.”

A fresh tear slides down your cheek before you can stop it. “Fuck, okay. Wow. When do you go?”

Jimin downs the rest of his wine, then finally answers. “I’ll be honest, the timing is bad. I really thought you’d be coming home with good news, so it would soften the blow a little.”

“Mochi,” you press him, more tears already threatening your waterline. You can feel your heart on the precipice of shattering into a million pieces— you just need him to fucking say it.

“Tonight’s my last night,” he admits.

There is a voice in your head that knows how you should respond. You should be enthusiastically happy for Jimin, and proud of him, and you are; you know deep down that you are. And you should be reacting to this unquestionably good news the way a best friend would: excited, screaming, hugging him, pouring another glass so you can toast to his success, telling him how great he’ll be.

But you’re sunk so deep in your own pain, you can’t help feeling… betrayed. Abandoned by your best friend, just when you need him most.

You set your wine glass down and press your face into your palms, trying to breathe, trying to stop the ache of a suppressed sob that squeezes tight in your throat.

“It’s not forever,” Jimin reiterates, and you know he’s trying to be kind, but you whip your head to look at him, suddenly aggravated. You can only imagine what he must see staring back at him: your glassy eyes gone red from crying, inset with deep shadows from exhaustion, tear tracks staining your cheeks.

“A little more notice would’ve been nice,” you respond as you pick your drink up again. The words come out harsh, jagged at the edges.

Jimin’s brows raise in clear surprise. “I’m sorry?”

The sweet wine goes bitter on your tongue, and you swallow it with a grimace. “I just think it’s interesting that you had all this fucking time to talk to your boyfriend about it, but not two seconds for the person who is supposedly your best friend.”

You can see a muscle tighten in his jaw. “Are you fucking serious right now?”

“Are you?”

“Do I really have to remind you what happened the last time we actually spent an evening together?” Jimin asks, and the razor-sharp tone to his voice already tells you that you’ve made a huge mistake, that you should’ve just choked all your bitter feelings down with your drink.

“Because in case you need help putting the pieces together, I believe you left me, alone, at some shitty dive that you specifically begged to go to. And maybe it hasn’t fucking occurred to you yet, but I was actually planning to ask what you thought that night, whether or not I should take the opportunity. Because I love my boyfriend, but you’re right, he’s not my best friend of a fucking decade. You are.”

Fuck. The weight of his words hits you like a truck. You drain the rest of your wine as he continues, relentless.

“And yet that was the night my best friend of a decade decided to ditch me to go hook up with a man she has consistently called an asshole since day one, and it made me wonder if maybe, just maybe, I deserved a little bit more in life. So I went home and told Wonho I wanted to take the job, and he supported me wholeheartedly. Even cooked me dinner to fucking celebrate. And now here we are.”

Jimin spreads his hands in front of him, palms up, as if to set the stage. “You are somehow shocked that the asshole you got yourself involved with turned around and acted… like an asshole. And I am off to go live the dreams that I have worked so hard for so long to finally achieve. Because as it turns out, we are a product of our own fucking choices. So tell me this, bestie: when are you going to take some fucking responsibility for yours?”

It’s only as you move to set your empty glass down that you realize your hands are shaking. It takes a concentrated effort to complete the motion, especially considering the way your eyes have started to blur with tears. You can feel deep, overwhelming shame stretching up from the pit of your stomach, like a black hole that threatens to suck you in entirely.

The sudden warmth of Jimin’s touch makes you flinch, and then you realize his hands are closing over yours, squeezing tight.

“Look at me,” he says hoarsely, and tears spill down your face as you do. You don’t know if you can take any more of his brutal honesty, but you figure you deserve it, so you brace yourself.

“I fucking love you,” Jimin says. The words are so unexpected and voiced in a tone so fierce that a sob wracks your chest before you can hold it back. He squeezes your hands tighter, and you try to return it. “You’re not just my best friend, you know that, right? You are my family. That will never, ever change. You could fucking kill someone, and I’d show up with bleach, two shovels, and a plan, okay?”

You laugh a little despite yourself, and you can feel Jimin’s thumbs brush gently over the backs of your hands. His voice is softer when he speaks again.

“I know shit has been really, really hard for you. For the last few years, and especially lately. But if I’m honest, it’s like you move through the world as if everything is just… happening to you, through no fault of your own. It makes it so fucking hard to root for you sometimes.”

You do your best to breathe through the sting of his words, and you nod, because you know he’s right.

“And that’s all I want to do,” Jimin stresses with another squeeze of your hands in his. “I want to be your personal fucking cheerleader, always, and not just because my ass would look great in the skirt. I know you are more than capable of getting your shit together, but it’s not going to happen if you don’t start taking some accountability for your own actions. And to be crystal clear, I am not a bad person for not wanting to sideline my own life while I wait for you to figure yours out.”

“You’re not,” you agree with a sniff and a small smile. “And I’m sorry for trying to make it about me.” You shake your head as you blink back a few more tears. “You deserve everything, Mochi, seriously. I don’t think there’s another person on the planet who would’ve put up with my shit for as long as you have.”

He rolls his eyes, despite the smile pulling up the corners of his mouth to match yours. “You make it sound like fucking charity work, come on. Have some self-respect! I don’t waste time on people who aren’t worth it.”

“I just thought you kept me around because I was the only person who could keep up with your drinking,” you admit, chasing the words with a giggle, and Jimin makes a face like you’re not wrong.

As if in response, he finally releases your hands, grabbing the wine bottle to top up your glasses.

“I really do wish I had better advice for you and your situation,” Jimin concludes on a heavy sigh as you both pick up your drinks. “But my already limited knowledge on Min Yoongi is also like fifteen years out of date, so all I can say is this: You got yourself into this mess, and I have full confidence that you can get yourself out. Even if it means cornering him and forcing him into a vulnerable conversation. It sounds like it will be great practice for both of you.”

You huff against the rim of your glass. “I have to figure out what the fuck to even say.”

“You will,” Jimin murmurs, his free hand alighting over yours for a final squeeze. “Just start with the truth.”

When your eyes find his again, you can feel your lower lip beginning to tremble. “God, I’m gonna miss you so fucking much.”

Clearly done with the dramatics, Jimin rolls his eyes. “I’m not dying, bitch! If anything it just means I’m going to text and call and FaceTime you more than I already do. Prepare to be sick of me.”

“I could never,” you tease, and he grabs a spoon off the coffee table, gently nudging it against your side.

“Come on, eat your sad girl ice cream before it melts.”

~*~

Even with Yoongi still in Tokyo, the thought of going back to the office and feigning normalcy feels impossible. You end up texting your boss to take a sick day, blaming it on the travel, and he responds quickly, telling you to rest up well and come in the day after.

But between the emotional overwhelm and the jet lag, sleep is hard to come by. You toss and turn, unable to doze off for more than a few minutes at a time, until you kick the blankets off in the early hours of the morning, sick of staring at the walls.

Your body moves as if on autopilot, and you pull your winter coat out of the closet to zip up over your sweats. You grab your phone and your house keys, then slip your feet into a pair of boots by the front door and step outside.

It’s cold, with the barest amount of dawn sun starting to bleed light and color across the horizon, but the fresh air feels good, like it’s easier to breathe in.

Hands shoved in your pockets, you make your way down the stairs to the entrance of your complex and begin to walk, aimless. You’re too fixated on everything whirling around in your mind to pay attention to where you’re headed, and it isn’t until you hear barking that you realize you’ve wandered your way to a neighborhood park down the street from your place, with a fenced-in area for owners to let their dogs run off leash.

It’s a nice place, even now in the dead of winter. You can’t help but wonder why you don’t come here more.

A voice snaps you out of your thoughts, and you blink slowly, your sleep-deprived brain taking several seconds to piece together why it sounds so familiar.

“Bam, Bam! Come here!”

A laugh of disbelief bubbles up in your chest as you take in the scene in front of you: it’s none other than your baby-faced coworker Jeon Jungkook, giggling high and sweet as a large brown Doberman jumps up on its hind legs to playfully tackle him. You recognize the dog as one he’s shown you pictures of, along with the two Italian greyhounds sprinting the length of the fenced-in area, clearly just as energetic as their owner, even at this ungodly hour.

You lean against the fence to watch them, and your heart sinks a little when the memory of your last conversation with Jungkook comes back. It occurs to you that this is probably what Jimin was talking about when he told you to start taking some accountability. But fuck, it’s certainly easier said than done.

You can see your breath in the cold air as you inhale deep and let it out again. Maybe you should just leave him alone, you determine. Turn around and walk home before he sees you.

But then, like the very thought is enough to trigger his awareness, Jungkook’s gaze flits up to meet yours. You wish his Baby Star Candy eyes weren’t so damn expressive— even several yards away, you can see a dozen different emotions flash over his face in the span of a few seconds.

Swallowing down the lump in your throat, you wave a hand in what you hope reads as a peaceful greeting. You’re surprised to see him begin to jog towards you, but even more surprised when someone else beats him to it.

“Can I help you?”

The person standing in front of you looks to be about Jungkook’s age, but immediately hits you with an aura so intimidating that you take a cautious step backwards. He has a black beanie pulled low over his dark hair, and his hands are shoved in the front pocket of his hoodie.

“Oh, sorry, I just, uh— Jungkook is… my coworker,” you offer dumbly, gesturing in Jungkook’s direction. Clearly thinking that they’re still playing, Bam keeps crossing in front of his owner, nearly tripping him up, and you can’t help smiling, watching him stop every few paces to redirect the dog.

“Yeah, I know who you are,” the guy in the hoodie retorts, and your gaze snaps back to him. “Don’t you think you’ve done enough damage?”

The question makes your jaw drop. “What?”

“I mean, seriously, what’s your plan here? Gonna lead him on some more and then tell him he’s not your boyfriend again?”

Your eyes threaten to pop out of your head just as Jungkook makes it over to the fence, Bam still nipping at his heels.

“Chan,” he quickly interjects, breathless. “It’s cool. Let me talk to her, okay?”

Chan eyes you up and down, disapproving, then takes a few steps back, his mouth pulled into an obvious scowl. “Yeah, alright. I’ll get the dogs.” You watch as he manages to divert Bam’s attention away with a well-timed ball throw.

Your mind still reeling from the interaction, you try to keep it together as Jungkook laughs, clearly slightly embarrassed. There’s an ache in your chest when you finally bring yourself to look him in the face.

“Sorry if he said anything to you,” he offers, looking back towards Chan, who is now entertaining all three of Jungkook’s dogs, plus a spaniel that must be his own. “Chan is a really good friend of mine, and he can be… protective.”

You huff a soft noise that comes out in a little cloud of steam. “It’s alright. I deserve it, honestly.”

“You don’t,” Jungkook says firmly, and you open your mouth to argue, but he speaks first. “Do you have a second? To talk?”

Uneasiness twists in the pit of your stomach. “I can talk,” you say, tentative. “But don’t let me interrupt. I think your friend already hates me enough.”

Jungkook shakes his head. “It’s cool. Chan and I always take the dogs for a run in the mornings. We’re just trying to get all their energy out, but we’re about to head back after this.” A smile spreads across your face before you can bite it back, and he quirks an eyebrow. “What?”

“You’re telling me you go on a run every morning before your six AM boxing class?”

A pink flush blooms in his cheeks that you can’t quite believe is from the cold. “Well, I guess I also have a lot of energy.”

“You’re superhuman,” you laugh, and Jungkook glances down as he smiles, like he’s suddenly gone shy. It’s enough to crack your heart right down the middle, and you can’t keep the words in any longer. “Jungkook, I am so fucking sorry. For what happened before.”

The smile drops off his face as he looks up again. “Don’t be. I was way out of line.”

You tear your gaze away from Jungkook, choosing instead to stare at the thin layer of frost beneath your boots as it all plays back in your head. As much as you wish you could just patch everything up and be friends again, you can’t ignore the truth of his feelings for you, and the way it complicates everything else.

But you can certainly relate to wanting to live in denial. To avoid an inconvenient truth.

“You were just trying to keep me from getting hurt,” you murmur. You wonder if he can tell that he was right, that it happened anyway.

“Yeah,” Jungkook admits, and you glance up to see him pause, considering. “But, you know,” he adds. “My own stuff was mixed in there too.”

“Yeah,�� you echo, unsure of what else to say.

“I should’ve listened to you,” he continues with a sigh. “I should’ve been more honest. About how I was feeling. Am feeling. I don’t know.”

“It’s okay.” You do your best to shoot him a sympathetic look. “Trust me, I really do get it. And I shouldn’t have been so harsh. I was just– I’m in a really weird place right now. But it’s not an excuse.”

Jungkook nods slowly. “I appreciate that. It definitely… snapped me out of it.”

You can’t help grimacing. “I was a bitch, you can say it.”

“No, no!” he exclaims, but his mouth is already pulling into a smile. “I needed to hear it. Seriously.”

There’s a moment where neither of you speak, and you both gaze across the park, watching Chan as he does his best to tire the dogs out.

“Your sons are even cuter in person,” you finally say, and you hear Jungkook exhale a soft laugh.

“You can meet them if you want,” he offers.

You scrunch your nose up slightly as you turn back to him. “If your bodyguard will let me?”

He shrugs. “Nah, Chan’s fine.” You raise an eyebrow in disbelief, and he waves one hand dismissively, the other already working to fumble open the lock of the fence gate. “All bark and no bite.”

Your eyes roll back at the terrible joke, but you can’t help laughing, too. You really fucking missed this kid.

~*~

Not wanting to worsen your jet lag further, you force yourself to stay awake once you make it back to your apartment, determined to take the day to properly unpack from Los Angeles. The routine of putting your things away and dumping your clothes into the washer is enough to keep your hands busy, and your mind takes the opportunity to retrace back over everything that’s happened in the last few days. It’s all come at you so fast, you feel like you’ve barely had a second to breathe, let alone process everything.

Things with Jungkook feel okay again, but your heart weighs heavy with the understanding that your friendship won’t ever go back to the way it was before, not entirely. That dose of reality stings a little, but you know it’s for the best, for both of you.

The loss just makes you miss Jimin that much more, but you know he’s currently on a plane to Bangkok to go live his dreams: he’d texted you a picture of his airport fashion while you were at the park, and you’d sent back a father/son candid of Jungkook playing with Bam. You don’t think Jimin’s bark bark bark response had anything to do with the dog.

You’re grateful for the conversation you had with your best friend before he left, even though it was hard to hear. The thought of sorting this mess out on your own still fills you with dread, but you tell yourself that if Jimin believes you can do it, then maybe he’s right. He’s certainly been right about everything else.

And that thought just brings you right back to Yoongi. A heavy sigh washes over you when you carefully unpack the rented Grammys dress from your suitcase, and the memories of the weekend flood your mind in waves as you brush your hand down the velvet fabric.

For a split second you swore the two of you had figured it out, that there wasn’t just sex and hatred between you, but something more. But as soon as the idea had come into focus, that one sweet night where it all felt possible, you’d watched it slip right out of your fingers again, with Yoongi acting cold enough to make you question if maybe you’d made the whole thing up after all.

You can’t help wondering how the morning could’ve gone in another universe: one where he’d stayed a little longer, one where you’d been a little braver. If you could’ve maybe met in the middle, somehow.

He told you he loved you. The words repeat in your head, again and again, as you stare down at your borrowed dress. Drunk as you might have been, you know you didn’t imagine that part. You just wish you knew what you were supposed to do now.

With a thoughtful hum, you reach for the garment bag slung over your closet door, unzipping it so you can hang the dress back up inside. You guess this is what Jimin was talking about. A vulnerable conversation. At this point, it feels like the only thing you haven’t tried with Min Yoongi.

“No time like the present,” you murmur to yourself as you tug the zipper up.

~*~

Going back to the office the next day feels like jumping straight into the deep end. There’s plenty to get caught up on from the aftermath of the Grammys and the work days you missed while traveling. It takes you most of the day just to get through your inbox in the brief moments of downtime not spent running between conference rooms.

Your one beacon of hope is the reassurance that Yoongi is scheduled to be in Tokyo for the rest of the week. It gives you time to calm down, to focus on work undisturbed without anticipating him around every corner. You’ve got the weekend to plan out what you want to say, to prepare yourself to push past the fear and actually say it, all of it, out in the open.

The very thought makes your chest constrict, but you try to breathe through it. You’ve got time to figure it out, you tell yourself.

And then you glance up to see Min Yoongi pushing the glass office doors open, and you swear your heart stops beating.

“Yoongi.”

His name leaves your lips automatically while you attempt to try and process this as really happening. Your voice comes out soft, as if in fear that speaking too loud will make it all dissolve in front of you, or make him turn around and walk right back out again.

He doesn’t respond; his stride doesn’t even falter as he walks past your desk and rounds the corner, heading for his own office. Acting on sheer impulse, you get to your feet to follow after, catching up to him as he’s keying the code into his door lock.

“What are you doing back?” is all you can think to say. You can’t read any emotion on his face, save maybe exhaustion.

“The sessions went well,” he answers, not sounding particularly glad for it. “We finished ahead of schedule.”

“Oh,” you answer dumbly, and he pushes down the handle and steps into his lab. You catch the door before it swings shut again, taking a deep breath to steel yourself as you step inside. “Can we talk?”

With a grunt, Yoongi drops into his desk chair, tapping at his keyboard to wake his computer and log in. “Sure. I was going to ask you the same thing.”

His response surprises you enough that all you can manage is another, “Oh.” You cautiously close the distance between you until you’re standing beside his desk, your gaze sweeping over his unblinking profile. It strikes you that you haven’t actually planned out what you want to say to him. You thought you had more time.

“Uh, I guess you can go first, then.”

Yoongi’s eyes don’t move from his screen. “I think you were right. This was a bad idea.”

“I— what?” It takes you several seconds to piece together what he means. The night at the company happy hour, when he’d proposed that the two of you establish some kind of arrangement, you had said it was a bad idea. And then you’d followed him into the bathroom to say yes to it anyway.

But now he’s… changing his mind? Just like that?

“I think we should both just focus on work,” he says, as if it’s that easy. “And stop being so distracted.”

Distracted? Your gut twists. It’s suddenly hard to inhale, like all the air has been sucked out of the room. “So what, then?” you ask, hating that you can’t quite keep the emotion out of your voice. “It’s over? All of it?”

Yoongi’s gaze alights on you for a split second, then flits back to his screen. The realization makes you want to scream: he can’t even fucking look at you. His adam’s apple jumps in his throat as he swallows.

“Look,” he finally sighs. “Whatever it is you think I can give you, I promise you, I can’t.”

A flush of heat creeps up your neck. “What I think?!” you retort, still in disbelief. “You started this, Yoongi, all of this was your idea. And you’re the one who fucking said you l—” He winces as you cut yourself off, your throat constricting too tight to get the words out.

“I was drunk,” he murmurs, unconvincing.

You stare at him for a moment, stunned.

“You know what I think you were?” His gaze finds yours, and you spit the word at him. “Honest.” There’s a flicker of recognition in his face, and it spurs you on. “I think you told the truth for once in your life, without this weird ‘I don’t care about anything’ veneer, and it fucking terrified you.”

Yoongi shakes his head. His voice is soft when he speaks again, and a little uneven. “Don’t do that.”

“Do what?” you snap.

“Don’t act like you know me.”

You scoff, too angry to stop yourself, unable to bite back the urge to press him until he says something real. “You think I don’t? Really? I guess you just tell everyone you fuck about the time you almost jumped off a bridge?”

He flinches as he glances up at you again, and your heart drops like a lead weight at the look on his face. You immediately clap a hand to your mouth, as if in a too-late attempt to shove the words back in.

“Fuck, Yoongi,” you breathe. “I-I didn’t mean that, I’m just—”

All at once, he’s on his feet, moving towards you until you have no choice but to start walking backwards, in the direction of his office door.

“Here’s what I know.” Yoongi’s voice is firm and oddly calm as he speaks over your fumbled apologies. “I’m an asshole. I’m a workaholic. I’m way too hard on myself. I push people too far, and then I shut them all out. I’m never satisfied. I get bored easily.” He pauses for a moment. “And yes, sometimes I get so fucking sick of myself that I want to jump off a bridge. To put it bluntly, I am not somebody you want to be with. At all.”

Your breath hitches as your back finds purchase against the door, and Yoongi stops, still several paces apart from you. His dark eyes feel like they’re burning into you, glassy with emotion in a way you’ve only seen once before.

“We hooked up a few times,” he says, as if there’s no room for debate. “That’s all. It didn’t mean anything. And it’s over now.”

As his words crash into you, it occurs to you what this feeling is, itching like fire under your skin and squeezing tight at the muscles of your throat: you’re embarrassed.

It’s fucking embarrassing, standing here in an office you’ve been in dozens of times before, trying to beg a man you’re supposed to hate into a single honest conversation, into loving you when he already fucking said he did. Yoongi said he’s in love with you, and now he’s just… standing here, blinking at you like you’re somehow the unreasonable one for thinking that it meant anything at all.

“I guess you’re right,” you barely manage to choke out as your hand brushes over the door handle behind you. Your skin is flushed so hot that it feels cool against your palm. “You are a fucking asshole.”

You don’t wait around to see the look on his face at your remark. You just push the handle down and stumble out into the hallway.

When the Genius Lab door closes behind you, you slam back against it with enough force to knock the air out of your lungs. You press your palms to the wood grain and squeeze your eyes shut, trying to calm down, but that choked up feeling refuses to dissipate. The world feels like it’s closing in around you, white noise roaring so loudly in your ears you can scarcely think.

It takes you several seconds to realize that someone is speaking to you, and your eyes snap open again to find Jungkook standing in the hallway, his brow furrowed like he’s concerned. It’s hard to focus on him, like you can’t quite open your eyes wide enough. Black spots have started to dance in your vision, and you blink a few times, hoping to clear them out.

“Whoa, are you okay?”

You attempt to take in enough air to answer him, but all you can manage are shallow gasps: it’s like everything is stuck. You’re not even crying, you just can’t fucking breathe. The only response to his question that you can give is a slow shake of your head, and then your knees buckle.

Your brain must lose the ability to keep up with the pace of everything that’s happening, because suddenly you register that your palms are pressed flat to the office carpet. Jungkook is kneeling beside you, one hand smoothing circles against the back of your dress. You’re still heaving, trying to breathe, but your chest is squeezed so tight that it’s like it won’t take. You can feel your heartbeat behind your ribs, slamming so fast that it makes your whole body shake, and there’s a buzzing sensation in your fingertips, like TV static.

“Hey, hey.” You shut your eyes again and try to focus on Jungkook’s voice. “I think you’re having a panic attack.”

“I—” you gasp, but the words are stuck, too. I can’t breathe. I don’t know what’s happening. I think I’m dying.

“It’s okay,” he answers quickly, and you nod, as if it might force your mind to believe his words. “You’re okay. Just— I’m gonna breathe with you, okay?” You immediately shake your head, and Jungkook shifts a little closer. “I know it feels like you can’t right now. But look. We’re gonna go slow. In for four.”

I can’t fucking do this, you want to scream, but you dig your numb fingers into the carpet and try to follow his lead. You can hear him take a deep inhale through his nose, and you do your best to match it. One, two, three, four.

Jungkook’s voice comes back, stilted this time. “Hold it for seven.”

You nod, trying to focus on the feeling of the floor beneath you, his hand against your back. Your chest is spasming with a desperate need to keep hyperventilating, but you force the little air you’ve taken in to stay in your lungs, and you count. One, two, three, four, five, six, seven.

“And out for eight.” You can hear Jungkook push a stream of air out of his mouth, and you echo it, though your own airflow feels pathetic in comparison. One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight.

“Can we do that again?” he asks gently, and after a moment, you nod.

You go through the process again and again, and each time it gets a little easier, until you’re finally able to pull yourself up to sit back on your heels. Your head is spinning, your heart still hammering in your chest, but you try to focus on Jungkook, seated cross-legged next to you like he has all the time in the world.

“I think—” you start, and you have to take another breath in before you can get the rest of the words out. A dull ache is beginning to bloom in your temples. Your throat feels like sandpaper. But at least you can breathe. “I think I’m okay now.”

“There’s no rush. Just give it a second,” he says with a nod, and you do, flexing your hands in your lap to try and bring some feeling back.

“Where did you learn to do that?” you ask softly, and the corner of his mouth pulls up into a half-smile.

“My therapist taught me. I used to have really bad panic attacks. Still do, sometimes.”

You blink at him, trying to process the information. It never occurred to you that Baby Star Candy would be the kind of person to have a therapist, or any kind of mental health issues at all. Not when he seems so… well-adjusted.

“Do you need anything?” he offers. “Water?”

You shake your head, not quite ready to be left alone. “I just need this day to be over so I don’t have to fucking be here anymore,” you sigh.

Jungkook makes a face, as if in thought, then shrugs. “How about I drive you home?”

Your eyes widen in surprise. “I— I’m the keyholder, JK. It’s literally my first day back, I can’t just leave.”

“Where’s the key?” he asks, pulling himself up to standing in one smooth motion. Your legs feel shaky beneath you, and you gladly accept the hand he extends for support as you slowly right yourself next to him.

“It’s, uh—” you have to think for a second before it comes back to you, your brain still a little scrambled. You’d taken it back from your cover earlier this morning, and now it’s… “In my purse. On my desk.”

With that, Jungkook heads down the hallway towards your desk, and you follow after, slightly unsteady in your high heels. He stands to the side when he gets there first, like he doesn’t want to just dig through your things, and you reach for your purse to fish the key out of the bottom.

“Can I borrow that?” Jungkook asks, extending his palm. You pause for a second, then nervously drop the key into his hand.

Before you can even ask any follow-up questions, he’s disappearing back down the hallway. Your gaze lingers over your desk as you let another cautious breath out, and it feels like you’re moving in slow motion when you grab your laptop and slide it into your purse.

It seems like less than a minute before Jungkook returns again, rapping his knuckles against your desk. “You’re off the hook for tonight.”

“Really?” you ask, incredulous. “What did you do?”

He just shrugs. “Talked to your boss. Told him you weren’t feeling well and wanted to leave early. He said he’d lock up. It’s not a big deal to ask for help sometimes, you know.”

You blink, attempting to keep up, your reaction time slowed enough that it’s like you’re on a five second delay. “Thanks, Jungkook. I guess your therapist taught you that too, huh?”

Jungkook nods without a trace of shame. “Sure did. Now let’s get out of here.”

Nothing about the world around you feels real as you follow Jungkook into the elevator and down to the parking garage. It’s like floating through some strange dream, everything fuzzy and far away. You slip wordlessly into his passenger seat, and it’s only as he pulls out onto the city streets that a creeping sense of dread starts to dot up your spine.

This scene is too familiar, and that thought alone makes your mouth go dry. When you try to swallow, you can feel your throat threatening to constrict again.

“Jungkook,” you manage to choke out, and his eyes flit from the road to your face and back again.

“Everything okay?”

The silence in the car is suddenly deafening. “Can we, uh— put on some music? Just, anything?”

Jungkook looks a little cautious, like he doesn’t want to do too much too fast. “Are you sure?”

You nod, your eyes fluttering closed as you try to remember his stupid breathing pattern. “Please. I… need a distraction.”

“Okay. Sure,” he answers quickly, and you let out a ragged sigh of relief when he leans over to press a button and the car fills with upbeat pop. It takes you a second to place it, and then you blink your eyes open again as a laugh of surprise rips through you.

“Hype Boy, really?”

“What? This is a great song!” Jungkook’s already tapping his thumbs on the steering wheel in time to the beat. “I just learned the dance, too.”

You tip your head back against the seat with another soft giggle. “Sounds like somebody’s about to go viral on TikTok again.”

The two of you settle into silence, and you let yourself be distracted by the music, your brain still cotton-fuzz numb. You’re grateful that Jungkook doesn’t force conversation or babble on the way he normally does, instead choosing to hum along in a way that’s oddly comforting. You count your breaths and watch the city pass by in a blur, until all at once the car is coming to a stop at your apartment complex. The building seems to loom over you as you blink up through the windshield, one hand fumbling for the car door.

Up those stairs is the safety of your apartment. But now that you’re here, it doesn’t feel so reassuring. It’s not like there’s anyone waiting for you on the other side of your front door. No best friend to come over. It occurs to you now that you’re not ready to be alone just yet, but that’s exactly what you’ll be the minute you step out of Jungkook’s car.

The words leave your mouth before you have time to reconsider. “JK, do you want to come up for a bit?”

“Oh.” Jungkook is wide-eyed and blinking when you glance at him, like he wasn’t expecting the invitation. “Uh, yeah. Okay. For a bit.”

It’s a little funny, stepping inside your front door with Jungkook following after, the two of you slipping your shoes off in the hallway, then padding further in. You never pictured this happening, not even when he came to pick you up for Jimin’s concert.

Jungkook cautiously perches on the edge of the couch, like he’s not quite sure what to do with himself, while you continue into the kitchen, calling back over your shoulder. “Do you want something to drink? Water, tea?”

There’s a shuffling sound, like Jungkook is peeling out of his jacket. “Just, uh. Whatever you’re having, I guess.”

“Wine, then,” you answer.

You make short work of cracking open a bottle of red, then grab two glasses before returning to the living room and dropping down on the cushion next to Jungkook. His jacket is slung over the arm of the couch now, leaving him in his usual business casual uniform, a button-down and slacks.

“What a fucking day,” you sigh as you pour Jungkook a glass of wine, then one for yourself. “Thank you again, for… you know. Reminding me how to breathe.”

Jungkook still seems a little nervous as he reaches for his drink. “Yeah, of course.” There’s a moment of silence as you both take a sip, and then he speaks first. “Can I ask—“ he interrupts himself, as if making a correction. “I mean, I don’t want to pry. I know it’s not my business. At all.”

“You want to know why I had a panic attack in the middle of the office?” you offer, and he nods.

“Outside of Yoongi’s lab,” Jungkook finishes quietly, and your heart briefly stalls out at the mere mention of his name.

“It’s a good question,” you murmur as you stare at the liquid swirling in your glass. Jimin’s words suddenly come back to you in a whole new light. Start with the truth.

You glance up at Jungkook again. “Yoongi and I were…” You trail off, unsure what to even call it. Involved? Hooking up? Enemies with benefits? Nothing feels right. “We were something.”

“But not anymore?” Jungkook’s response is immediate. You shake your head.

“No, I guess not.” There’s a dull ache in your chest, like pressing on a fresh bruise, and you try to breathe through it, your gaze flitting down to the hem of your dress. “When we were in LA, he said he loved me. And now he says it didn’t mean anything. That it’s over.”

“Wow,” Jungkook huffs, sounding dazed and a little pissed off. “I’m sorry.”

“Yeah,” you sigh as you sink back against the couch cushion. “Me too.”

It all feels more real, now that you’ve said it out loud. Hurts just as fucking bad. Maybe worse. “And I’m sorry I lied to you. I should’ve just told you, but. I don’t know. I think I wanted to believe I had it all under control.” A sad laugh flutters out of your lungs. “Clearly, I do not.”

“It’s okay,” Jungkook says, and he pauses for a moment, placing his wine glass on the coffee table before he continues. “Were you— I mean, was it… the whole time?”

You pull your bottom lip between your teeth as you shrug. “Not the whole time, but. Most of it, I guess. It was like a weird slow burn thing.”

“Got it.”

When you glance over at Jungkook, there’s a distant look in his eyes, like he’s still processing everything. You suppose it’s probably a lot to hear all at once. It feels good to be honest with him after so much time spent keeping secrets. A heat starts to bloom in your face as you take another sip of wine, then set the glass down.

There must still be a lingering post-panic disconnect between your brain and your body, because all of a sudden you’re moving on sheer instinct, without giving it any thought at all. You drop back against the couch cushion again, then tilt yourself to the side until your head is pressed gently into Jungkook’s shoulder.

You wonder if you’re imagining the way he tenses slightly at the contact. You glance up at him through your lashes, but he’s not looking at you, and the expression on his face is hard to judge. There’s a faint scar on his cheek that you’ve never noticed before.

It could be so easy, you realize now. All he’d have to do is turn a little and close the distance. He could cup your jaw in his hand, tilt your chin up towards him, brush his lips against yours. Soft and sweet.

And maybe it wouldn’t be so bad. At least you wouldn’t be alone.

“It should have been you, Baby Goth,” you hear yourself say.

Silence weighs heavy in the air between you, and then Jungkook speaks.

“That’s not fair.”

It’s like the words snap you out of a trance. You jump back like you’ve just been burned, purposefully sliding over to put as much distance as you can between your bodies on the couch.

“I’m sorry,” you say reflexively, but Jungkook is still staring at the floor. His leg has begun to bounce, like a nervous tick.

“I don’t—” Jungkook starts, and then he pauses, taking a deep breath in before he begins the sentence again. “I don’t want… this. Not if… if it’s not real. Or just a rebound, or whatever.”

Shame rushes up in your chest, makes you hot all over. You can’t exactly say that he’s wrong, but the thought of a brief distraction from the pain was so promising. Now it’s only served to dig you in that much deeper.

“I’m sorry, Jungkook,” you repeat dumbly. You can feel your heartbeat hammering behind your ribs. “I shouldn’t have said that. I’m just… Fuck, I’m such a mess right now. I keep fucking everything up.”

His gaze finally drifts up to meet yours, and you’ve never seen him look more serious. “You know, Chan said something that stuck with me. When I told him about what happened. He said, ‘if she really wanted to be with you, she already would be.’”

The words hit you like a punch to the gut, and you recoil at the impact. You try to blink away the impending tears as you slowly nod. “Chan’s right,” you whisper, and Jungkook’s mouth pulls into a sad, flat grimace.

“Yeah,” he answers, his voice gone raw. “I thought so too.”

All at once, he’s on his feet and tugging his jacket back on, and you can only sit motionless and watch him. You press a finger to your waterline, trying to catch the tears before they start to spill down your face.

“I’m sorry you had a hard day,” Jungkook says, reaching up to adjust his collar. “And I really do want to be your friend. But I think I just need a little time.” He tucks his hands into the pockets of his jacket, turning over his shoulder to look at you, then quickly averting his gaze again. “We both do.”

“Yeah,” you sniff. “I want to be friends too. But, yeah. You’re right.”

Jungkook keeps his head down as he heads for the entryway. He slips his feet into his shoes, then swings the door open, pausing in the threshold for a final glance back towards you.

“Get some sleep,” he murmurs. You nod. And then the door clicks shut behind him.

~*~

Despite your best attempts and the rest of the bottle of wine, sleep doesn’t come. You stare up at the black of your bedroom ceiling, and it feels like staring at the rubble of every bridge you’ve burned. All from your own choices. The things you said that you shouldn’t have, the things you didn’t do that you should have. All your mess, and all your fault.

You keep your eyes open, because closing them is worse. Closing them is when it all comes back, a looping film strip in your head of everything that’s haunted you, played out in technicolor on the backs of your eyelids.

Extending a mug of coffee to Yoongi on your first day. Stealing food off Jimin’s plate at dinner. Splitting red bean buns with Jungkook.

And then it speeds up.

A locked office door, a stolen set of keys. A four digit code and a smirk. Your fingers gripping the edge of Yoongi’s desk. Dancing close with a dark-haired stranger in a packed club. Yoongi’s hands slipping up your thighs, closing over your throat. The flashing lights and noise of a concert. A full glass of whiskey. Standing outside of a bar in the cold night air. Rain on a windshield. A maple pastry and a paper coffee cup. Seoul lit up at night, cut through by the river. A hotel bed. Yoongi’s hands on the zipper of your dress. Yoongi’s hands on piano keys. Yoongi’s mouth on yours in a conference room, in his shower, in a K-town noraebang. His face pressed into your shoulder on the cab ride home.

And you see yourself, too. Running away. Saying the wrong thing. Fucking everything up, irreparably. Over and over, the movie replays.

Tears slip across the bridge of your nose as you turn onto your side, cheek pressed to the pillow, and wait for morning.

~*~

“There she is!”

Your boss’ greeting rings loud in your ears, and you wince as you duck your head through his office door. He gestures for you to have a seat in the chair across from his desk, and you comply. You can see him taking you in as you sit down, and when his smile falters slightly, you know why: there weren’t enough ice rollers in the world to completely de-puff your face after a sleepless night spent crying yourself dry.

“How are you feeling?” he asks, a little more gently.

You fold your hands in your lap and take a deep breath, willing the words not to get stuck in your throat. You can feel the tension in the room, your knife’s edge poised at the final cord to cut.

“I want you to know that I’ve really enjoyed my time working here,” you begin, doing your best to keep your voice even, squeezing your laced fingers tight to give your mind something to focus on. “But for personal reasons, I think I need to tender my resignation.”

Your boss sits back in his chair, clearly stunned. It takes him a second to recover. “I— wow. Can’t say I saw this coming.” He leans forward again. “It wasn’t something that happened here, was it? Because if we need to report an issue to HR, you should know I take that kind of thing very seriously. I’d hate to see you leave over something we could take care of.”

Another breath in, another squeeze of your hands in your lap. “No, it wasn’t,” you say firmly. “It’s just me. My own stuff. I think… I think maybe I need to leave Seoul for a bit.”

He pauses, considering your words, and you consider them, too. It isn’t a thought you were ever cognizant of having until this moment, but it doesn’t feel like a lie, either. It makes sense. You’ve snapped every tie that once might have kept you tethered to this city. There doesn’t feel like much point in staying, or like there’s anything still here for you.

“Well, good for you,” your boss finally says, his tone serious. “For knowing your own limits. Gotta be a human first, right?” You offer him a half-smile and a nod, and he leans forward to grab a pen off his desk, fiddling absentmindedly with it. “Thinking of going anywhere in particular?”

You shake your head, your smile turning self-conscious. “Hadn’t gotten that far.”

“If I’m overstepping, just tell me to shut up,” he starts, and you can’t help breathing out a laugh. “But you got some rave reviews from the Los Angeles team. Seriously, you blew them away. They asked if it was possible to clone you. Apparently they’ve been looking for an admin for a while, but can’t seem to find anyone who can walk the walk.”

Your eyes go wide as you begin to put the pieces together, and your boss just keeps going.

“I mean, it’s probably a bigger move than what you were looking for. Unless you’re really trying to get away. But you’re such a great asset, I’d love to keep you in the family, if we can.”

He looks at you pointedly, and you swallow around the sudden lump in your throat. “You… can do that?”

Your boss shrugs. “We’d have to get you a visa, but that’s easy enough with a specialty occupation lined up. And we can cover the fees for premium processing so it doesn’t take half a year. But only if it’s something you’re genuinely interested in. If you’re just trying to cut and run, I get it. No hard feelings.”

Your head goes spinning. Los Angeles. It’s about as far away from your mess of a life as you could possibly get. It feels too good to be true, and you drop your gaze to the floor as a tidal wave of guilt surges over you.

You hadn’t planned on this admission, but all at once, the words are coming out of your mouth.

“I lied,” you say, your voice soft, your eyes fixed firmly on the carpet. There’s no way you can look your boss in the face as the truth spills out of you. “On my job application. I don’t have any experience as an administrative assistant. I made it all up, and my reference was fake. I was actually a waitress before this.”

You finally manage a glance up. Your boss’ eyebrows are nearly at his hairline, but he’s quiet.

“It just… doesn’t seem fair to send me off to the Los Angeles team. Not when I don’t even know what I’m doing,” you conclude with an embarrassed grimace.

“You really feel like you don’t?”

His question makes you blink. You don’t know what you were expecting, but it certainly wasn’t that. You’re not sure how to respond.

He drops the pen in his hands to press his palms flat to the surface of his desk, as if he means business. “Look, obviously I can’t condone what you did. But I’ll be honest, if anything, that just makes me all the more impressed with your performance. I thought you adjusted quickly even for someone with past experience. To know you were flying blind…” He huffs a laugh of disbelief. “I mean, that’s a fucking crazy thing to do. But you did do it. I’ve seen you working your ass off to keep this office together. And that’s the thing: you have. You’ve met every deadline, kept up with every deliverable. You’ve taken everything we’ve thrown at you and handled it.”

You pull your bottom lip into your mouth, willing it to stop trembling. Fuck, you’d really thought you were done crying.

Your boss shakes his head as he continues. “Maybe if you’d just started, I’d feel differently about this. But I gotta be honest. When I look at your performance the past few months… I don’t give a fuck what your last job was. Because in this job, you’re killing it. And I know you’d do the same in Los Angeles, if you made the decision to go. They want you out there because they’ve already seen what you can do. They know it, and I know it. And I hope that some part of you knows it, too.”

A single tear rolls down your cheek, and you quickly reach up to swipe it away. “Thank you,” you choke out, your voice thick as you try to keep it together. “I seriously can’t tell you how much it means to hear that right now.”

He doesn’t respond right away, like he’s waiting for you to say more, and you take a shaky breath in as the decision solidifies in your head. “I really enjoyed my time with the Los Angeles team. And I would love to transfer there, if they’ll have me.”

Your boss’ mouth pulls into a smug smirk. “Please,” he says dryly. “As soon as they get wind of this, they’re going to beg me to ship you overnight.” You laugh as you dab at your eyes with the edge of your sleeve, and his face softens slightly. “I can’t do overnight. But do you think you can hang on for just a couple more weeks?”

You chase your nod with a gentle sniff. “Yeah. I think I can do that.”

~*~

Time passes quicker than you would’ve expected, split mostly between preparing for your transfer at work and trying to pack your life up into cardboard boxes at home. Apart from those two things, the days feel aimless, and a little unreal. It’s like you’re living in a liminal space, halfway between your old life and the promise of a new one. Your boss offers to hang onto the office key of his own accord, to give you more time to get your things in order, and you gratefully accept the help.

It’s a weird change, no longer having to worry about being the first one at the office and the last one out. No meeting Jungkook at the doors each morning. No fighting with Yoongi to get him to leave at the end of the day. You see relatively little of either of them, save for the occasional meeting or brush of shoulders in the hallway. You’d think losing both of them in one go might be unbearable if you didn’t already have your eyes on the horizon.

Your boss announces your upcoming transfer in the next team meeting, though Yoongi is naturally nowhere to be found. Jungkook’s eyes go as wide as you’ve ever seen them at the news, but he still slips out of the conference room immediately after the meeting wraps, rather than hanging back to talk to you.

You try not to take it personally; you can’t exactly blame him.

Life goes on. Your boss swings by your desk to excitedly share the news that your visa was approved, and you set a final transition date. You sort out the travel, the logistics of shipping your stuff, and lock down a place to sublet in Los Angeles to get you started. It’s admittedly shocking how easy it is to take your old life apart, piece by piece. To draft your escape plan, to run away from it all one final time. To make a clean break.

It’s nearly the end of your last workday in Seoul before you’re able to put a name to the feeling that’s begun to blossom in the pit of your stomach: it’s hope.

“Hey.” Your boss’ voice cuts through your concentration, and you glance up from your laptop to see him leaned up against your desk. “Can you walk to the break room with me for a second? Got a few last-minute questions for you.”

Your eyes go wide, your mind instantly racing, trying to think of what it is you might have forgotten.

“You’re not in trouble,” he says with a laugh, and you nod as you get to your feet, not quite able to believe it. “Just, uh, follow me and put on a happy face. Alright?”

You have no idea what he could possibly mean until you round the corner and a cheer rises up. The rest of your coworkers are standing around the break room in groups, like they’ve been waiting for you, though that doesn’t seem to have stopped them from already partaking in the assortment of food and drinks that’s been set up beside the vending machines. There’s a farewell banner pinned to the wall, signed with well-wishes from what looks to be everyone at the Seoul office, and someone’s turned on a playlist that you realize upon closer listen exclusively features songs about California.

There’s even a cake.

For a moment, you can’t do anything except stand there in the threshold, dumbfounded, as your coworkers clap and laugh.

“I— wow,” is all you can think to say, and you shoot your boss an incredulous look. “Thank you.”

He makes a face. “Hey, I didn’t do this. Thank JK.” Your boss nods across the room. “That kid loves any excuse to throw a party.”

Your heart immediately sinks at the mention, at all this kindness shown to you by the person you’ve arguably treated the worst.

It takes a while to get to him, with nearly every person wanting to stop you for a chat, but you finally manage to make your way over to where Jungkook is loading up a paper plate with so much food that it’s threatening to cave in.

“Make sure you get something to eat before it’s all gone,” he says by way of greeting, gesturing to the catering dishes with an elbow so he can keep both hands on his plate. “It’s really good.”

“Jungkook,” you say softly, and his gaze alights on you for a second before returning back to his food. You don’t think you’re imagining that he looks somewhat nervous. “I really can’t thank you enough. You didn’t have to do any of this.”

He shrugs, taking a few steps over to a nearby table, and you cautiously trail after him. “I didn’t,” he admits as he sets his plate down, then scoots a chair out. “But you deserve a good send-off. It takes a lot of guts to do what you’re doing.”

You shift nervously where you stand. “It’s either that or cowardice. I’ll let you know when I figure out which.”

A small smile tugs at his lips as he digs into his food, and you suddenly feel like you’ve overstayed your welcome. But then he glances up again, speaking through a mouthful. “Well, whatever it is. I hope it works out for you.”

“Thanks, JK.” You do your best to return his smile. “I hope so, too.”

By the time you grab your own plate, you’ve been swept into another group to answer an endless litany of questions about your move. You tell yourself it’s probably for the best to leave Jungkook alone anyway, so you try to stand there and smile, to assure your nosier coworkers that nothing happened; you just needed a change of scenery.

Eventually the conversation shifts, and you find yourself on the outskirts of it, more than a little relieved to no longer be in the hot seat. You sip politely at your drink and nod along, not really paying attention to whatever’s being said, until a tap on your shoulder makes you start, and you turn around.

You nearly drop your cup when you find Min Yoongi staring back at you.

Your eyes had scanned the crowd for his face when you got here, like they do in every room you walk into, but he wasn’t here. He wasn’t, you’re sure of it, and you honestly hadn’t expected him to show at all. Why would he?

But now here he is, standing in front of you, his dark eyes searching yours. And you have no idea what to say to him.

You might be face-to-face in a crowded break room, but he still feels unreachable, like he’s a thousand miles away from you. It occurs to you that after today he’ll be much, much further.

Your lips part, but you can’t get the words out. You don’t even know where to begin. But then he speaks first.

“I just want you to be happy,” he murmurs, and as he says it, his hand brushes yours for less than a second. It’s a touch so brief, so imperceptible, that anyone else would think it was an accident. But you know better.

Yoongi pauses, as if to take one final look at you, and then he slips between two groups of your chatting coworkers, and you lose sight of him again. As if he was never there at all. It’s like you can feel your heart drop to your feet and shatter against the linoleum floor.

It hurts just as much as it did before— watching him walk away, not having the guts to stop him. Even if you did, you know you’d find a way to fuck it up, the way you always do. So you say nothing. Do nothing. The party turns to white noise in your ears as you stare down at the liquid in your cheap plastic cup. And then it hits you all at once: you need to get out of here.

You’re able to slip out of the break room unnoticed, dropping your drink in a trashcan on the way out. You move down the hallway on unsteady legs, and you don’t stop until your hands are pressed flat to the bathroom door to push it open. Shouldering into a stall, you can barely fumble the lock closed behind you before the tears start to spill over.

You don’t try to hold them in. You just slump against the door and let it all pour out of you. You cry until your throat goes thick, until a muted thud blooms at the back of your skull, until you find yourself distantly wondering if you’ll ever stop crying. You’re so fucking sick of crying.

Occasional groups of coworkers drift into the bathroom, and you stifle your sounds each time to avoid detection, your cheek pressed to the stall door as you wait to hear them trickle out again. The interruptions get further and further apart until there’s a long stretch of silence, and your hands shake slightly as you slip the lock open to make your way out to the sink.

The face looking back at you in the mirror is not a pretty sight, all puffy and tear-stained, your makeup a disaster. You reach for a paper towel to try and clean yourself up, and then the bathroom door creaks open a few inches, just enough for Jungkook to stick his head through the gap.

You can’t help smiling a little at his unexpected presence, though it’s more of a grimace, considering you know full well how awful you look right now. “Hey, JK.”

He blinks, eyes widening as he takes in your current state. “I know I’m not supposed to be in here, but… are you okay?”

The laugh you manage is all self-pity. “Kind of a loaded question.”

Jungkook nudges the door open with his foot, and you realize his hands are preoccupied with two paper plates. “Everyone’s gone; I was just cleaning up,” he explains. “I brought cake.”

“Thanks,” you say softly, watching his reflection in the bathroom mirror as he steps inside.

After a moment of internal debate, you turn to press your back to the sink, flattening your palms against the counter and hopping up to sit on it. Jungkook sets the plates between you before following suit, his long legs dangling over the edge of the marble surface. He reaches into his shirt pocket to retrieve two plastic forks, performing the motion with just enough flourish to make you really laugh as he hands you one with a shy smile.

The two of you take your first bites in silence, save for your own sniffling.

“This cake is really good,” you murmur as you chew.

A longer pause settles between you, and you find yourself relieved for the quiet. You figure Jungkook doesn’t need to ask the obvious question, that he’s perfectly capable of putting the pieces together as to what might’ve led you to lock yourself in the bathroom and cry all your makeup off. And any words of comfort he could’ve once offered would only make you feel like even more of a monster right now.

Jungkook has already finished his slice of cake by the time he speaks again. “Did you… hate the party?”

“No, JK,” you respond immediately, the corner of your mouth pulling up in a sad half-smile. “It was wonderful.” Guilt gnaws at the edges of your conscience, and you can’t help but question what you ever did to be worthy of this friendship. Of Jungkook’s kindness, given freely, even when you didn’t deserve it. “Seriously, thank you. For everything.”

“You’re welcome,” he answers. You look down just in time to see him extend a leg so he can gently tap his foot against yours. His voice is quieter when it comes back. “I’m really gonna miss you.”

“I’m gonna miss you too,” you echo, glancing up at him as you return his foot tap with one of your own. “But you’ll be alright.”

Jungkook’s gaze drifts down to the floor, and he nods as you take another bite of cake, his jaw set firm. “Yeah. I will be.”

~*~

As you pack up the last of your things, there’s a lingering feeling in your gut that you can’t quite manage to shake, and you’re not sure why. Maybe Jimin got in your head with all the TV show drama talk. Or maybe it’s your stupid heart, foolishly holding out hope that things could still change, even at the eleventh hour. That it all can’t just… end like this.

But none of the scenarios you’ve dreamed up come true. Yoongi isn’t standing at your apartment door when you swing it open with your suitcase in hand. He doesn’t step out of the cab that pulls up to your complex to take you to the airport. He doesn’t run through the terminal to catch you right before you make it to security.

Yoongi doesn’t stop you. So you go.

chapter nine | masterlist

#yoongi smut #yoongi angst #yoongi x reader #bts fanfic #bts x reader #look down on me like that

1K notes · View notes

afreakingdork · 1 month

Text

Weak Spot - Chapter 67

RotTMNT Donatello x Reader

Hold your belongings close and this week’s chapter art by @aimike17 closer!

Warnings: Aged-up Turtles, Romance, Meet Cute, Villain Donatello, Cussing, Crushes, Xenophobia, Fear, Intimidation, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Hurt/Comfort, Love, AFAB Reader, Vaginal Sex, Sex Rough, Sex, Penis In Vagina Sex, Creampie, Teasing, Scent Kink, Sexual Tension, Breeding Kink, Multiple Orgasms, Cunnilingus, Fellatio, Marathon Sex, Somnophilia, Bondage, Feral Behavior, Feral Donatello, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Public Sex, Dom Donnie, Human/Turtle Relationships, Turtle Noises, Roleplay, Sexual Roleplay

Synopsis: A love story of villainous proportions! Though it hadn’t come easily, as these things rarely do, you found yourself in a whirlwind romance with a handsome and mysterious mutant. His idiosyncrasies had been easy to ignore as attraction grew into something more. However, will love endure when the unknowns about him end up being far darker than you ever considered?

This may seem like a rehash of last week''s, but @tmntxthings seriously came in CLUTCH for these last few chapters. I had a lot of details that weren't ironed out for whatever reason and she helped me put them in real order! We wouldn't have Weak Spot as we know it without her!!!!

Also available on Ao3

First 💜 Previous

Things were pleasantly stabilizing. For once in what felt like years you had time to breathe. Not always a bad thing as Donnie had a penchant for taking your breath away, it was instead a slowdown from the nonstop repetitiveness of undertakings occuring. They were always begging for your utmost attention and just having a few months of normality in comparison felt like a vacation all its own.

You were healthy.

Donnie was healthy.

Your friends.

Your family.

The storm had passed and with a righted ship, you applied yourself at your job. Finally able to look at long term goals, you plotted out that you could be moved back into your position by performance reviews next year. A long goal, but not a lofty one, you had heard murmurs of how they hadn’t hired anyone for your old position. You kept yourself humble, but you had a feeling that maybe you’d be asked back sooner.

First, however, you were going to obliterate the simpler desk job they passed off to you and leverage that for a fatter raise if that were the case.

If not, you could catch up on the backlog of filing and then ride out the cushy position.

It was a win-win.

Optimism.

Not something you thought too much on, you felt it creeping up on you. You kept your back to it just in case, but it acted as a lounge chair. You could recline in happy thoughts for once and Donnie appeared to be doing the same. You both kept busy both separate and together which made the overall mood a light one. With summer having scorched the earth, you had a second yielding of crops from your rooftop garden. Besides the comfortable labor done up there of tending to it, Donnie had procured that tree you wanted and you found yourselves relaxing in the space for the sake of it. You’d drink in sunsets and sneak glances at each other as the city hummed around you.

You had a good work day, a catered lunch with coworkers, and an uneventful ride home to your apartment. Donnie was on the schedule for dinner tonight and the dish he was making was one you’d had many times before. A delicious staple, it was to be yet another normal evening as you stepped through your threshold. Your boyfriend wasn’t at his desk which didn’t pique any necessary worries as meal prep always took him in roundabout ways depending on his mood. You took care in putting your things up and went to get something to drink.

You were sipping on a beverage and gazing out the kitchen window at two lovers schmoozing on the street below when the door opened.

Donnie appeared with a grocery bag cradled to his chest and his carapace to you.

“Hey, Sweet. Beat you.” You tipped your glass to him.

He barely nodded.

Distraction not a foreign thing when he had recipe steps filtering through his mind, you moved out of the kitchen to give him space.

He made it exactly halfway there before you heard a comical rip.

Something that could double as movie foley, you saw Donnie hunch where groceries then spilled out around him before he could react.

Round objects rolled to settle and there was a glug of something leaking.

Donnie didn’t move.

He was frozen in place.

You set your drink down and properly took him in.

Not lengthy exhaustion, but tight lines of today’s anxiety creased his face. There was then a smudge on his cheek that was barely perceptible and not something you could identify. From there you realized that the way he clutched the grocery bag was because one of the straps was already torn. A thin and separate rip then took the bottom, though there was an odd gouge where it started. The spill poured from there, but a different sort of streak of what looked like dust streaked his pants.

All that information taken in only a few seconds, you pivoted and headed toward the kitchen. You gathered a towel that was disposable and a roll of paper towels. You were at Donnie’s side in an instant cleaning up the mess as he stood a statue over you.

Saving grocery goods that hadn’t been destroyed in the wreckage, you saw the brand.

It was to that grocery store you tried to conquer once every few months. Always an ordeal, it had been agreed upon that Donnie wasn’t to attend. This was your venture and you were fine with that. Which meant him having gone made little sense. You yourself had been not that long ago and there were still items from the store dotting the freezer. Your dinner was a common one so there shouldn’t have been any reason for him to go out of his way.

A rag was soaking up lost juice and you looked up at him with a box in hand. “Why did you go here?”

His lips parted, but nothing came.

You softened at his struggle and moved to finish cleaning up. You then took several trips bringing everything salvable to the kitchen before you attended to the rock solid form of your mate. He watched you with his eyes, but his posture hadn’t unfurled in the slightest. Taking great care not to touch him, you instead slid through the remains of the bag and coaxed him with tiny pulls to release.

He did so with peeling back fingers and a grip like one reserved for roller coaster safety bars.

“I’m gonna toss this.” You told him and examined the bag on the way to the trash. The spindly fibers on the handle said it had broken with use. It made sense as weight mattered little to Donnie so you imagined the bag had mistakenly been taxed. From there, you couldn’t parse out the tear to the bottom. There was an outward puncture as if it had been stabbed through, but the groceries you gathered didn’t have damage that matched.

Dumping the thing, you turned to find Donnie had cracked his façade and was looking down at his legs. It took you no time to spy a dark splatter on his pants from where the juice had exploded upon ground contact.

“Why don’t you wash up and change?”

It was as if he needed to hear the offer to do more and gave a solemn nod.

You watched him disappear around the partition and looked after him with metered affection. Though the circumstances were bad, you loved this side of him just as much. No matter how put together he tried to make himself, he still got as hung up as anyone else. You didn’t need him humanized in your eyes, but knowing that you were one of the few who got to see it warmed your heart.

Doing a last pass to make sure everything was cleaned from the spill, you set to work throwing something in the oven. Taking out a freezer backup meal, you were re-reading the instructions while the oven warmed when Donnie emerged in another full blown outfit. One you liked on him, it chiseled his usual carved form and he came over with intent oozing off of him.

“Did you want to go out? I can turn the oven off.” You made a show of the box you had yet to open.

He took it in with a furl of his brow and nothing more.

“Donnie?” You tilted your head to catch his eye. “You okay?”

He said nothing, but his features further creased until he was outright scowling.

“Is it this?” You showed him the meal again. “There’s also a pasta. You liked it last time, we can do that instead?”

“Pasta.” He spoke the word as if possessed.

It didn’t read as a confirmation to you and instead almost like a mime. “Don, I’m starting to worry.”

That seemed to penetrate him and he looked at you with renewed intent. “Restaurant?”

“We can.” You moved to shut the oven off.

The moment your back turned, you heard him give a testy sort of grunt.

It slowed your finger near the off button. “Or… not?”

Silence again reigned so you turned to view him.

It took several long moments, but you thought you got a read off him.

It almost looked like he was paralyzed by choice.

He needed you to be clear and concise so you gave him a reassuring smile. “Let’s order out, get something nice.”

He stalled in a nod, but eventually his head bowed, deferring to your decision.

You remembered he’d mentioned a new Italian place earlier that week so you recommended it.

Again, he agreed with a shaky bob of his head.

You moved close, but gave him a berth as you brought up your phone. Finding the location and flipping through the menu a few times, he eventually named a dish for himself and you selected your own. Throwing in an appetizer for good measure and a dessert that sounded like something he liked, you pressed send. The page turned over for a confirmation and you moved wordlessly to put the freezer meal away.

You passed him toward the living room to get your drink.

He needed space to process.

Plopping down and getting comfortable, you sipped from your glass.

You watched your partner move through motions without movement.

He seemed to scold himself.

There was a pause as if he found fault.

He then forgave his person with a heave of the sigh.

Something difficult, it pummeled his strength and he moved to hold the counter.

It was his version of a breather, but whatever the conundrum was, wasn’t solved.

He was trapped with it and sent that distress to you.

You made an obvious show of setting your glass down to telegraph he had you in any form he needed.

It came with his shuffling feet where his knees bumped the far couch arm.

You watched as he tipped like a plank of wood until he collapsed, face first, into the center cushion.

Behind him, his legs extended straight into the air.

You chewed on a laugh.

He laid in that position for a little too long.

You moved, first unsure, then careful to graze the back of his head.

The touch was a question.

He answered it with a heaved sigh and a turn of his cheek.

You weren’t sure what that meant, but you could now see that smudge better. You still didn’t know what it was, but you stood. A few steps to the bedroom and back got you a tissue and you knelt down in front of him. He watched you with a beaten down expression and you took great care in wiping his cheek clean.

“Thank you.” He mumbled earnestly.

You nodded and chanced the faintest peck to his brow. “Whatever you need.”

For a split second, all the strain washed off him.

What looked at you was your loving mate.

Then misery returned to him and he soured with a pucker.

It shallowed your heart and you sent that concern to him. “What is it, Don?”

He shook his head before rolling all the way over and buried himself into the back of the couch. It pulled his legs off from their perch on the arm and he curled them up to his body in almost a fetal position. You watched on with a hopeless feeling and caught how he’d left your seat open. Giving your own exhale before standing, you sat there and wondered what the next best step was.

The wait for food to arrive was always so annoying.

You ordered and were forced to wait just long enough that having a snack was debatable, but discouraged.

Wondering if maybe hunger was getting Donnie down in some form, you felt a bump to your thigh.

Blinking once outward then twice at your leg, you found that said man in question had squirreled his way up the few inches that separated you so the top of his head could just graze your leg.

You watched him with metered interest.

With a shimmy of his shoulders, he repeated the move, but jostled you without any strength.

You weren’t exactly sure, but you adjusted your recline so your lap was open.

He tilted his head just long enough to spy on you.

You were waiting there with a quirked brow.

He hid away in what seemed like irritation in having been caught.

“You can always ask if you’re not sure…” You told the air and patted your legs in offer.

You counted exactly five seconds before he kicked off the far armrest so his body would lift. His head landed on your lap and when you tried to look down at him, he buried his beak into your stomach.

“Silly cutie.” You told him.

He grunted against you with a warmth spreading through your top.

He wiggled, obviously breathing you in.

You chanced setting a hand on his arm.

His body curled, trying to get closer where the couch was in the way.

It reminded you of how he wrapped his body around you when he was in the midst of his heat.

In a slow stroke, you pet his arm. “Did you have a bad day?”

It took some processing time, but he nodded against you.

“Sucks.” You commiserated. “I know those and I’m here for you.”

He spoke something, but you couldn’t hear it.

“Hm?” You continued to pet his arm.

He said nothing more and grew slack against you.

Picking a piece of lint from him, you rubbed his limb then this head. It took a long while, but eventually he gave into the barest churr which you took as a good sign. There was a beep from the computer and you looked over to see the feed of a delivery person. “I’m gonna get the food.”

Donnie gave a little annoyed chuff and curled down into himself.

It freed you up and you bent to kiss his head before going to get the door. An easy transaction, you gathered bags and moved to the kitchen. Donnie stayed put and you gathered up his meal with his preferred utensils. Moving to bring his over first, you set up his container in a restaurant-style presentation before returning to the kitchen to grab yours. Upon returning, he had unfurled and was looking at his meal with a tired eye.

You sat beside him and were careful not to jostle his being.

He rubbed an eye and took a fork around the time you got the remote. “Want to watch something?”

“That one show.”

You hadn’t been prepared for a response and your head snapped to him.

“The hospital one.”

You knew it because he’d mentioned he liked their accurate take.

It was also an albeit silly one.

Tempering your surprise that he’d picked at all, you pulled it up. “Which episode?”

“Dumb luck one.”

Your eyes shot wide and you fought every single instinct not to send awe at your partner.

You flipped screens knowing which episode he was talking about and it also happened to be the one he’d praised the show on. It all felt so surreal, but the moment it started, you saw Donnie move to eat. After he’d successfully chewed his first bite, you watched the monotony of consumption hit him and it allowed his brain to give way to simpler stimulation.

You eventually ate yourself and watched as the episode rolled into another. It was nearing the fourth one when Donnie made a little noise. It had an attentive quality, as if something occurred to him, and you moved to check in. You found his gaze clear, but the weight of his worries had dropped upon him anew. Brows pinched tight enough to seal a leak, it trapped the concerns of his brilliant mind.

You set your container down where it had been laying empty in your lap and crossed the space to sit directly beside him.

He promptly got up and moved one sofa square further from you.

His rebuff struck you like a blow.

You hadn’t bothered him, but he ran from you.

You shirked away and gathered the discarded take-out. Putting things away in the kitchen, you tossed trash, set a few things to soak, and did it all with a broken heart. You argued with it, hoping to push it away and make sense of what was bothering him. It seemed to twirl down a drain and you eventually relented to wash up. Changing into pajamas, you exited the restroom to find Donnie’s head still sat, unmoved, from where he was still sat on the couch.

He’d stay there.

You weren’t mad.

You weren’t even necessarily hurt.

It did sting through.

You were slow to part the curtains of the canopy. You looked up at them and thought about their origin. You’d recommended them after a bad day of your own. Donnie had worked so hard then and you twisted a hand in the fabric. A soft material, it gave easily and you wondered what you were missing. From the gentle action to asking, it seemed you’d rounded all the bases except space. A frustrating one, he had illustrated the concept literally and you supposed he did so because he couldn’t elaborate.

Clutching onto that hope, you released the canopy. This was meant to be his safe haven so you turned to look out at him. “Hey, Don?”

His head tipped upward as if he had awoken.

“Let’s switch. You take the bed and I’ll sit on the couch?” You stepped away with the offer.

Donnie dipped to gather force and then stood. Standing statuesque for a moment, he then turned mechanically. Step by step, he walked out from the couch until he lifted his eyes from the floor and glimpsed you. “You changed.”

“Huh?” You looked down at yourself and then to him. “Oh yeah, you’re still dressed.”

He reached you with his worries percolating, but they now seemed centered on your pajamas.

You tipped your body to catch his eye.

He gave it with lined concern.

“Did we need to go somewhere?”

“No.”

A frown tried to manifest on your lips, but you forced it into a thin line. “Here.” You gestured to the bed. “Get some rest, okay? Love you.”

You didn’t wait and moved around him.

You felt him track you with a full rotation of his body.

His gaze felt burrowing as you sat on the couch and ducked out of sight just to shake it off.

Everything was fine.

Your peace was intact.

Donnie had a bad day.

How many of those had he had?

Not many that weren’t equally shared by you.

This was uncharted territory.

He needed space.

He’d passed along as much.

You took a deep breath and let it out slowly.

It was okay.

You felt assured as you groped for the remote.

It was down by your feet and you had to reach for it.

When you laid back out, Donnie was standing an ominous shadow above you.

A small yelp escaped your throat. “What are you doing!?”

“Y/N.”

“Yeah?” You held a hand to your heart where it was racing.

He stared down.

“Donnie, please. I don’t know what you want.” You sat up and nearly immediately he took a seat in the space you left. “O… kay…?”

His posture was terrible, he was a curved ‘C,’ and his hands twiddled thumbs in his lap.

You guessed you had been wrong about the bed.

You moved to stand.

Donnie snatched your wrist.

You stared at him.

His eyes warped, pleading.

“Don…”

“Y/N…”

“Yes?” You begged him.

Distress bled from his lips.

You tugged lightly on your hand.

His grip tightened.

“Donatello. I don’t know. I can’t know unless you share. Please. I want to help.”

“You can’t.”

It felt like another lash to your chest.

“I am the failure here.”

You jarred.

“It is my own to bear.”

“What are you talking about?” You moved to face him.

His grip on your wrist changed to a loose cuff. “Restaurant.”

“Huh?”

“To cliché. Too obvious. Already done to capacity.”

“Don…”

“The venue?” He glanced away, seeing plans you couldn’t. “Outdoor, romantic? Assuredly, but taken. I’ve plotted our Valentine’s seven years in advance.”

It was such an oddly specific number you wanted to ask about.

“Indoor, the same. Stunning architecture? A backdrop. A fountain? Does that compare our love to water? My cup runneth over. Of course it does!”

Your fingers curled in his.

He didn’t seem to notice. “That brought comparisons, metaphors, places we’ve been before. Retreads, deeper meanings, foils! The sandwich shop where we met! The outside of your work building! That courtyard where you revealed your sorrows! Rooftops! Alleyways!! Food!! Beverage!!! Grocery store!!!”

He was becoming more manic by the second.

“Not center stage!!! Something small!! Something meaningful!!! The options!!! So many fucking options!!!”

You were in motion and you broke free of him.

He did nothing to hold you back.

You caught his face.

“The guilt has been eating me alive!”

You inhaled sharply as you got an up close look at his glassy gaze.

“Nothing is worthy of you. Nothing is good enough. I am at my end. It has to be good enough. I have to be good enough.”

“Donnie, please. You are-”

“A meal! I thought! I’d already considered it and a million others, but I could create a dish that rolls all meaning into one. I’d make a standard, one we both enjoyed. It would represent our connection, the banality of it all. How in that we matter so much more! A centerpiece dotting an average night turning it into an unforgettable one!!”

You loosened your grip and he pressed his cheek against one of your palms.

“If ever there was a folly, I encountered it today.”

You tucked your fingers under his chin and scratched his favorite spot.

He didn’t have it in him to churr. “I fell back asleep after you left this morning. I need strength for today’s mission so I rooted into your pillow. I do adore your scent.”

Your face warmed.

“Lulled, I woke later than my preparation required so I rushed. Changed, the outfit I meant was to be picked up so I was forced into another. I took the stairs instead of the elevator, a rush, quicker. Outside and to the store before I realized I’d forgotten totes and, more importantly, my wallet.”

You nodded, attentive.

“I returned, gathered those only to be stopped by movers on the floor below. They’d wedged a dresser in the stairwell so I meant to pick it up and move it for time’s sake. It was repulsively dirty.”

That explained the dust.

“They thanked me and initiated touch which…” Donnie shuddered. “I weathered and made it to the store only for a key ingredient to be sold out! I moved to another store and found the same! I hacked the inventory systems to find the buyer was a rogue food truck owner who did not receive their order. They decided to instead rob the everyday consumer by buying up all surrounding stock!”

You leaned into him.

He accepted you with a moment of closed eyes as his forehead bumped yours. “That left me without options as time was ceaselessly ticking so I opted for a last minute adjustment. Another of our favorite meals with exclusive ingredients from that store you like.”

You nuzzled him.

He gave a few second rumble in his throat. “It remains a nightmare. The people. The staff! So loud! So synthetic!”

“Foods worth it.”

“It was meant to be! I gathered what I needed and made it to the curb where the car was parked when it was struck.”

You jolted away to stare down at him.

He looked at you with severity. “The hazards were on. Every precaution was taken. My system may be able to protect itself, but others always have a portion of incalculable unknowns.”

“You were in a car wreck!?”

“I had yet to enter the vehicle. I was leaned forward to set the filled bags in the seat when it was rear ended. I watched as everything I had purchased be crushed in an instant.”

“Donnie!”

“I was uninjured, but there came police and insurance reports, and endless, endless, conversation!”

“Was the other person-!?”

“Fine! They were fine! The cars were both totaled. It’s fine.It was time for an upgrade, but the hemorrhaging of time!!”

You wilted.

“I returned inside, I bought the scant ingredients as the damn store was being picked clean, but I did what had to be done. My last chance for scraping together the evening. I got my bags. I moved to exit.”

He was building and your face expressed your woe.

“A child knocked over an enormous vase housing a floral display in the entrance and I was skewered.”

“You said you weren't injured!?”

“I wasn’t!” Donnie’s teeth appeared in a curl. “I dodged and thought I compensated for the bag’s swing!”

“But!?”

“But.” He repeated harshly. “I also dove to save the boy from the shattering glass. In the process, the bag was punctured.”

“The bag.”

“Not the boy.” Donnie scoffed at the clarification. “The child saw the piece and thought it helpful to rip the chunk out!”

You gave what was almost a laugh.

“I saved his hand and berated him in not only glass safety protocol but that leaving a weapon in a stab wound is proper procedure.”

“You told a kid what!?”

“Trust.” His gaze was flat with the pained memory. “His mother had quite a bit to say about that. Please.”

You almost felt dizzy. “Okay… All this… takes up more time...”

“The bag was in disarray, but the food was untouched, so I only needed to support the bottom and ride… public transit.” Donnie sneered.

“Don…” You shrank with sympathy.

He pulled you into his arms and spoke softly to your ear.

“Dreadful. The sights. The smells. The horror.” He tucked his beak against you. “I made it. You arrived home before me. How could I prepare? I had all, but given up. Then… I saw you.”

You leaned against him.

“A vision. All my worries vanished. You, a stunning placement, bathed in window light. Your glass glittering as you sipped. Your mood jovial. I thought anew. We would cook together. Show our bond. More of our domesticity.”

“The bag…”

“The bag had presumably worn the weight no matter what my hold and had other ideas.”

“You froze.”

“It felt as though my entire plot collapsed as well. Before I could do a single moment of damage control, you were taking charge. From cleaning, to the meal, what was left?”

“Anything…? You wanted to highlight how well we work together.”

“I had been absent! For all of it! Spiraling from plans left unlaid!”

“So…? We fix it?”

“I needed you to fix it! I need to explain! That wasn’t the plan! It was too far gone! I’d been silent too long! It was an illustration, but also a surprise!”

You weren’t sure what to say.

“Then in my wretched attitude, I rebuked you?! Idiot! I was dwelling on when to reschedule. The moment I moved away from your worry was the moment I realized my grave mistake! I hurt your feelings which meant I would have to wait until they were repaired before even chancing a thing.”

“What…? What is all of this? I keep thinking you’ll say it, but you’re just alluding to something I don’t know about.”

“You!” He spoke as if that was the answer.

You stared back with sadness tinting you.

“You…” He cupped your hand to his cheek. “Our love.”

You shook your head, not understanding.

“I can’t do it like this. Please… If you can continue to wait?”

“Donnie.” You sighed. “You know I’ll wait for you. You know I’ll always wait for whatever you need. You aren’t getting rid of me, but all this sounds ridiculous. I don’t know what you’re trying to plan or why it has to all be good for something to happen. Bad things happen. I think every bad thing that could happen, has happened to us. It matters, but it also doesn’t! We have each other and that’s what’s important. Like you said: our day to day, the fact that we can, will, are, whatever, going to do this for the rest of our lives is proof. All the stupid weeknight dinners. Watching whatever shows. Cleaning. Cooking. Maintaining a house. Taking care of us and anyone else.”

A little color marked his cheeks.

You kissed each of them, one at a time. “You’re right. That’s what’s important. It’s how we interact. How we’re codependent or whatever! We’re us forever and always and we like it. We’re not all these crazy things. We’re this and if we can do this? We can do anything.”

You watched all concern wash away from your partner.

He moved, carefully, to take you close.

He kissed you with a shallow press that said he needed to do more.

Allowing him that, he stood and ushered you onto the couch.

Taking the middle seat, you watched as he looked only once at the coffee table.

It was clean from where you’d removed the remnants of dinner and he caught one end to lift it.

As if it were paper, he sat it on its side and it stood a tall wooden obelisk.

He gave it a little rock to test how sturdy it was.

Satisfied it wouldn’t fall, he released it and addressed you.

His hand disappeared into his pocket.

He removed it with something concealed.

He dropped down onto one knee.

Everything hit you with a flood that watered your eyes.

“Y/N L/N…”

Your hands flew up to cover your mouth.

He looked at you through his lids and his own outpouring of adoration. “I should scold you for stealing my moment, but you have also assured me that I will have nothing but opportunity for another.”

You shook your head and a few tears loosed.

“I should have known.”

He smiled fondly.

“The best way to do this was whenever felt right.”

His hand came up.

“No planning, just as you appeared without any.”

One palm offered, he unfurled his fingers to reveal the jewelry box.

“My heart.”

His other hand opened it up to reveal a clean band that seemed to radiate some kind of aura.

“My love.”

He offered it up to you and all of him read submissive.

“My life. I offer it all. Will you please marry me?”

You nodded too furiously. “Yes!!!”

Tears darted the air as you shot forward the moment he tried to grab the ring.

The box clicked shut and you tackled him.

To the ground where you both laughed and tears flowed.

“How long have you been worrying about this?!” You croaked against him.

He wrapped his arms around you. “Months. You caught me planning multiple times, but never noticed!”

“Evil!”

He laughed brightly and wrung you side to side.

It bumped a table leg and you both froze as the coffee table wobbled.

Donnie rolled over top of you so he’d take the brunt of the damage.

The table only fell like a bridge.

It landed on all its feet and hovered inches above your fiancé.

Locked safely beneath it, you sent all your affections before you kissed him.

Having weaseled his arm into position, he slipped the ring on your finger and you felt it warm your digit.

💜NEXT💜

I don't know the exact date, but we are hard coming up on a year that @tmntxthings and @thepinkpanther83 have been my betas! I have and endless sea of gratitude for them both! They are integral to my writing at this point!

#weakspotfic #rottmnt #rottmnt donnie x reader #rise of the tmnt #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #rottmnt x reader #donatello hamato #donnie x reader #rise donnie #rise donnie x reader #rottmnt donatello #rottmnt donnie #me #fanfiction #my fanfiction

111 notes · View notes

scribbledghost · 2 months

Note

Hi! First of all I would like to thank you for your writing! I've only recently stumbled upon your headcanons, but I've already fallen in love with your writing style and neighbor Simon! Can I request Simon with a male or gn reader who works as a rescue or firefighter and has the energy of a golden retriever? Kind of really always eager to help people, even risking his life to do so. It could be a regular Ghost or an au neighbor. I think that would be an interesting dynamic, especially if Simon is already retired and his s/o is doing dangerous work, though not military.

Please take care of yourselves and good luck with your writing! 💜

ohhhh not me realizing you've been waiting on me for this request for... *checks notes*... two months 🫣 I am so sorry. Thank you for your patience :')

So, for this one, I'm gonna go with neighbor Simon! And honestly? You're gonna make him go gray even earlier than he was already on his way to.

He probably picks up one of those emergency scanners. The kind that people usually use to listen to police activity, but he exclusively uses it to listen for fire/rescue. Any time your vehicle isn't at your house, he's probably got the thing on and set to the proper frequency. And when you ARE out on a call, he's glued to it to make sure there aren't any calls for backup/medical at wherever the situation happens to be.

Honestly, you probably remind him a lot of Soap. Eager to help, most of the time at detriment to your own safety. Though at least with Soap, Simon could keep an eye on him while he was off setting charges or infiltrating somewhere. Here? At home? He feels helpless. He can't very well follow you to every housefire or EMS call you go out on (as much as he wants to), so he has to settle for sitting by his little radio.

A nagging feeling tells him this is how military spouses feel. Sitting by, waiting for news that their loved one is safe and coming home. He keeps that radio on his left side always, to ensure it's not affected by his unilateral hearing loss. He wants to make sure he doesn't miss anything.

And yeah, maybe sometimes if you squint, you can see his truck parked a couple blocks away from whatever housefire you're attending. He'll never admit to that though. He just wants you to be safe, that's all. And if that means making sure things don't go too sideways (and being prepared to rush in after you if they do), then it's something he'll gladly cause trouble for.

He appreciates your sunshine-y nature when you're around him. Though it took some adjusting to, he enjoys the optimism and eagerness. It's a fresh change from all the doom and gloom that usually comes with hanging around military folks for too long. Simon probably teases you a lot about the whole "firefighter" gig anyway, asking you how many ladies come up to the handsome fireman while he's in uniform. (And yeah, okay, if you happen to do one of those "fireman calendar" things like stations sometimes do here in the States, he wants a copy. Don't you dare say anything about it though).

#simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost x reader #simon ghost riley #simon riley x you #simon riley x reader #male reader #ghost scribbles #neighbor simon

59 notes · View notes

lowkeyrobin · 3 months

Note

Can i request the qsmp (whoever you want i don't mind) reacting to you taking care of their Egg/eggs while they we're somewhere away?

You don't have to write if you don't want to, have a nice day/night 💜💛

hello!! thank you for the request!! since I still wanna do tallulah I will just use another one of her parents (phil) because wilbur is a sack of shit!!! ; anyways thank you for the req, hope you enjoy! I was gonna do more but I don't know much about them just yet and stuff 😭🙏

QSMP ; taking care of their kids while they're away

includes ; tubbo & sunny, niki & empanada, phil, tallulah, & chyanne, quackity & pepito, foolish & leo

warnings ; language

masterlist

TUBBO & SUNNY

he asks if you can watch over sunny while he works on his machinery stuff for a bit and keep her entertained

he picked you because sunny loves you and she wanted you to watch over her anyways

bro you spoil her so bad 😭 tubbos clone fr

hes very grateful that you would watch over her though, he just didn't want her to get hurt and stuff

he kinda spies over you two playing around and smiles in the distance like "awee aren't they so cute?" with a little happy frown

rewards you with a flute for watching over her, even after you said you don't need anything to watch over your god-daughter

everytime you watch over sunny after that, you let her play with the flute and you practice around with her too

you're not the best flute-r but sunny likes it and that's all that matters

NIKI & EM

she had to go out and find cherry wood for a little add on to the bakery and left em in your care with the promise she'd repay you in sweet treats

you guys bake for a little and play around with tallulah and leo, basically playing house but at the bakery

niki comes back and sees you with three of the eggs like "where'd they come from? I was gone for like 20 minutes??"

"we were playing bakery"

em jumps about and places down a sign to say "look, ma! we made cakes :)"

gives you a little hug and thanks you for watching over em and tallulah & leo

"em, can you help me with the new room, honey?"

PHILZA, TALLULAH & CHYANNE

Phil and Missa had to leave the kids with you for some business stuff w the federation

good god are they little demon children

chyanne wants to play pvp with you and tallulah wants to show off her flute skills

you decide to negotiate and put their needs into one

you created a game of hide and seek with some of the other eggs, basically chyanne would use his sword to tag people out and tallulah would use her flute to lure him or hiders. hiders and chyanne wouldn't exactly know which team she'd be on each round which kept it fun

Phil comes back and takes a picture of you and tallulah hiding behind a rock from chyanne, who got a hold of your iron sword somehow 😭😭

"I'm home, kids!"

tallulah and chyanne instantly run to him and tell him about all the fun they had and how they want you as their babysitter when he has to leave

he thanks you graciously for watching over them and the other eggs and getting them to have some equal fun

he gifts you a new skateboard to repay you since cellbit stole your last one lmfao

10/10 will be watching over them again

FOOLISH & LEO

he left leo with you while he, tina, and quackity had to go on a little expedition for more resources because they wanted to build a McDonald's playplace for the eggs

you two go around the island and take pictures of the scenery, the buildings, the bugs, etcetera

he loves photography and it's like his creative outlet so of course he dragged you around the whole island

the long walk was nice and peaceful though, you both enjoyed yourselves

you make a little tree house with a slide to hide from the thunder and lightning, since it randomly started thunderstorming

they love you so much and love how you understand their passion for building and photography

like that one post, "yeah they're mentally adults but they're still children"

like yeah, leo is a professional photographer but of course they need you to change the batteries, that's just how it works bro

QUACKITY & PEPITO

"Y/nnnnnn, can you watch over Pepito for me?"

he had to go do some Federation shit, as per usual apparently

you guys pick flowers together when the night falls since he struggles with sleeping sometimes

he tells you about how much he loves his foolish (his grandfather/mother) and asking when quackity will be back

you just kinda look at him in silence for a moment and say "I dunno, bud, but soon. I'll be here for you though"

he dresses up as Spiderman and you dress up as the Green Goblin and play superheroes most of the days

eventually, quackity returns, fucking like 3 days later

he gives both of you large hugs and thanks you, and repays you with some blackstone that you needed for a build

"pa, we played superheroes all day!!"

"Oh, did you?" He chuckles

#lowkeyrobin #mcyt x reader #mcyt preferences #mcyt oneshot #quackity x reader #tubbo x reader #qsmp x reader #foolish gamers x reader #niki nihachu x reader #qsmp tallulah #qsmp leonarda #qsmp pepito #qsmp empanada #qsmp chyanne #qsmp sunny #philza minecraft

115 notes · View notes

ravenstargames · 4 months

Text

✦ Lost in Limbo Devlog #8 | 02.06.24

AHA! It's February (has been for a few days, but I've been a bit busy as per usual) so that means another Lost in Limbo devlog! We have been recovering from our wrap-up, working left and right, and oooh boy aren't things getting interesting. Let's jump into it, shall we?

First of all...

🎉🎊🎊THE DEMO CGS ARE DONE!🎉🎉🎊

Raquel has worked SO HARD to achieve this, and the results are simply amazing. We could never ask for a better artist, and we can't wait for you all to see and experience every CG for yourselves. Sadly, we made a promise of only showing Gael and Amon's, so you'll have to wait a bit more for the others! ; v ;

And next! You thought we were finished with the characters?! NOT BY A LONG SHOT! As you may remember, our demo script went through a few changes, but this secondary character remains! We don't want to talk about them too much, but we also wanted you to have a taste of them, as they'll be the first character you'll meet... 👀💜

Our plan is to finish this sprite and then move on to the character's expressions. We have to figure out the most efficient way to work on them, though!

The dreaded section—but THIS MONTH we come with a wonderful announcement...

✨🎆Airyn has joined the team!✨🎆

And you'll ask, who's Airyn?! Well, she's an amazing person we met during our master degree; we have been developing a friendship for a while now, and as we needed an extra hand with our backgrounds, Airyn offered us her help! She's an incredibly talented concept artist who loves working on backgrounds, and we are so so thankful for her help! We literally couldn't ask for a better professional to join us during our demo journey :')!

You can see some of Airyn's work on her ArtStation, here!

She has already started to work on our unfinished backgrounds, and so far we can offer you this fantastic WIP of one of the places you'll visit in the demo! 💜

But Astro is not far behind! He's getting our last background ready, and so far he's doing an impeccable job! We hope these mysterious places are piquing your curiosity, because we definitely can't wait for you to visit them!

I'm reaching page 100 of our script, having left behind a few things to correct! Only 40~ pages left, which means soon we'll make a second round of editing and correcting. Allie is almost done with their first editing process and that's very exciting! We can't honestly thank her enough for her incredible job 💜(I think I say this a bit too much, but we gotta be thankful on this team!)

The CG's have been programmed and they work so far! Now each character has a CG to be unlocked and seen in full HD, and each in their own gallery, hehe. Next I'll have to play around with the credits because I was having trouble with something last time I tried to get them done—but as always, I'll get it done one way or another!

This month we have worked hard! January has been a good start of the year I think. I hope we can speed things up a bit now that we have Airyn to help us with the backgrounds, and hopefully she'll be a permanent addition to the team if everything goes well! I don't want to jinx it, but I feel I can see the end of the tunnel little by little. Planning stuff, looking up different things, getting busier and busier...Let's see if February, even if short, proves to be a productive month!

Also, we hope you all have been taking care and the start of the year has been nice to you. There's so many amazing things happening in the indie otome community, so make sure to enjoy it all! 💜

#visual novel #lost in limbo #otome #indiedev #devlog

73 notes · View notes

Last Seen Blogs

http-tokki

Loverboy Levi

skatecritic

Skate Critic

allthesestarsinthesky

Le Escape

hollowsart

X---|[ WELCOME TO LIMBO ]|---X

the-maths-blog

Maths!