#I'm fully in my Sarah feels/obsession

[mrskeeleyhawes]

[dopaminestarvedsim]

sul sul! 👋🏼

name: sarah traits: bookworm, loyal, creative aspiration: renaissance sim career: therapist currently playing: the postcard legacy challenge

i'm new to simblr and keep seeing these sweet lil posts go around, so i thought i'd have a go at making my own! 🥰

i never really played video games at all until 2020, when i got a switch to play acnh & quickly became obsessed. my brother-in-law then introduced me to the sims and fast forward to 3 years later and i have every damn pack and thousands of files of cc. 🫠

i have adhd, so i tend to be a hobby hopper & that applies to games as well. needless to say, i'm in my sims era again. and i'm fully infatuated with simblr and in love with learning how to make pretty posts from screenshots!

i've always wanted to figure out how to get better at building and more creative with gameplay and i feel like this could be the answer for me! having some community to share my creativity and gather inspiration from makes me feel excited about my lil pixelated besties. and i love it.

i guess this is where i ask you to like & repost? 🥲

i'm still learning how to set up my tumblr to be more organized, but i'd love to connect with new folks and have y'all follow along with me as i share the story of my legacy founder in the screenshot above, named juniper bright. 🌱☀️

[tame-a-messenger]

damien's "i guess i've been working out'' comment towards angela?? idk if he realizes or not but he's peacocking big time loll and caling angela's character his fave etc.. he wants to impress/noticed by her so much (to me i think this is more of admiring/friendly crush but i do smell something.. :) idk enough about angela to read whats her deal is, she is more subtle to me)

I raised my eyebrow when he made that comment too lmao

It's usually something you'd say if you were flirting with someone lol, it's really funny to me how often they both accidentally walk into 'flirty scenarios/sayings'.

(I can literally think of a LARGE handful of times they've said/done flirty shit to each other not thinking too much of it) (i.e.. the "I know Damien's!" misunderstanding, to the most recent big one- the Christmas Event™ among others)

pea·cock - verb - peacocking

display oneself ostentatiously.

os·ten·ta·tious·ly - adverb

in a pretentious or showy way designed to impress.

I love the term peacocking, it's such a funny way of saying someone's trying to impress you lol.

He's almost constantly calling Angela's character's his favorite (and sometimes calling Angela herself 'his' favorite)(see- Mr. Grub on numerous occasions) and is always saying some flirty shit to her in TNTLs (his 'Sarah Christ'- "My place or yours?")

I find it interesting that you said Angela is more subtle! I can read her SUPER easily (by virtue of being damn near the exact same person as her). Damien's the one I struggle with reading.

I think I've talked about it before but, Angela's biggest tell to me with Damien is how much she makes fun of him. Like whenever he makes faces she stares. Like fully stares straight at him and smiles/laughs while pointing at him. (lol) And repeating his sayings "Heart of the cards" is another big way that she, not so much trying to impress, but shows him that she thinks he's cool?

AND HOW COULD WE OVERLOOK HER DRESSING UP AS HIM MULTIPLE TIMES! as someone that is incredibly similar to her, I would only dress up as somebody that much if I'm OBSESSED with them in a friendly way (think weebs and cosplaying, they have a favorite character, they cosplay them)(Damien is Angela's favorite character).

I do fully believe they both are trying to impress each other, but they're both like? super nerds? so them 'impressing' each other is usually dulled down and twisted into them making fun of one another (which I think is hilarious) because they don't know what they could even impress each other with.

They both really like each other (friendly way) and seem to have just fallen into rhythm with one another. (they've always had good energy around each other, but it was like they were nervous/unsure if they were saying the right things)(whereas now it feels like it's getting closer to them being 'lock-step' with each other)

I don't think 'crush' is the best way to describe them though? (I understood what you meant by it being a 'admiration crush' though! (this shit is so hard to explain, just know I know what you meant lol) Weirdly, chummy is coming to mind? they're very good chums <3 also pals, they make good pals

[philosophika]

Nine People You Want To Get To Know Better

Hi everyone, I'm back from an unplanned semi-hiatus (turns out moving countries can really do a number on you) and am looking forward to interacting again. On that note, thank you very much to my new mutual, @lordfenric-writes for tagging me! If you don't already know Fenric (can I call you Fenric?), go check out their Content Links Post for access to their 2023 NaNoWriMo project and more! Soft tagging: @tate-lin @lucianinsanity @songsofsomnia @moonscribbler @words-after-midnight @blind-the-winds @sarah-sandwich @mydeadpony @inkovert @sender-paulson @athenswrites @wordsacrossemptypages, @winterandwords and anyone else who'd like to participate! If you want me to remove you from the tags, just send me a message and I'll get right on it <3

Current Book I'm Reading: OK, so the first thing you need to know about me is that I'm a fully institutionalized academic, and although I've (THANKFULLY) left that world behind, I. CAN'T FOR. THE. LIFE. OF. ME. stop reading like an academic. I haven't been able to read fiction in over a year. The only genre outside of non-fiction that I still seem to be able to connect with is horror. And not like ghosts in your attic horror. Obscure, weird-as-fuck horror. Between Two Fires by Christopher Buehlman & Monstrilio by Gerardo Sámano Córdova horror (which are both excellent books, by the way). But that wasn't the question, was it? The question was: what am I reading now. Well, (oh god) I've been digging into The Last Man Takes LSD: Foucault and the End of Revolution by Mitchell Dean & Daniel Zamora, which sounds a whole lot more trippy than it actually is. Mainly, I'm interested because the authors point out that Foucault's late philosophy, his so-called 'ethical turn' towards an 'aesthetics of existence', was inspired by a trip he took to California (and the upper reaches of the universe). Since I wrote my MA dissertation on this exact topic (the ethical turn, not the LSD), I thought it might come in handy for future articles...

Last Song I Listened To: Bastille & Hans Zimmer's new cover of Bastille's Pompeii, Pompeii MMXXIII (recommended by a friend). Before that, I was listening to a 'British Folk/Weird Folk/Horror Folk' playlist on Spotify which was pretty interesting... Actually, it reminded me of being a child in the English countryside, stuffing my face with berries by the side of the road and then going to the new-age shop in the village to listen to whale-song CDs, touch magic gemstones, and smell incense sticks. Very hippie.

Currently Watching: The Servant on Apple TV (is the baby real or not!? It's driving me crazy); Foundation on Apple TV (and I swear it's not because Jared Harris is in it or Lee Pace wears chainmail crop-tops. I swear!); and... The News? Does the news count? I watch a lot of 'the news' now. Actually, I can't stop watching... It's been quite sad and terrible lately...

Current Fic I'm Reading: Sorry, I don't read fics! I know it's blasphemy. Believe me, no one is more disgusted with me than I am. But yeah, there you go... Never been my thing, really. Nothing against it.

Next On My Watch List: the upcoming Napoleon movie featuring Joaquin Phoenix; Killers of the Flower Moon; anything A23 produces anytime; Priscilla by Sofia Coppola (which is A23 also so, you know, naturally); and I'll probably re-watch The Green Knight for Christmas (it is a Christmas movie, after all).

Current Obsession: My WIP, The Sorcerer's Apprentice, which you can check out on my writeblr side-blog (@thesorcerersapprentice) has been my main obsession for the past -what?- four years? More or less? I really feel like until I've written this thing, gotten it out of me, I won't be able to write anything else. It just won't leave me alone. I can't think around it; I always end up coming back. It's a story I fundamentally, deep down in my bones, need to write. So it's my obsession: today, tomorrow, and always, right up until the day it's done.

[buggledy]

Please continue liking/reblogging my silly posts I'm gonna vent about the two things going horribly wrong in my life rn because I can't talk about either of them publicly without making people very mad or uncomfortable.

ONE

I've been working on this collaborative project with some online... "friends" to some extent for about 2 months now. The deadline for my portion was mid-August. I am going on vacation this Saturday, I'm going to see Sarah Squirm 3 hours away on the 21st, and my irl friends who were involved in my portion return to school on the 19th. Naturally, I filmed it in early July and turned my cut in on the 19th A FULL MONTH BEFORE THE DEADLINE, AND BEFORE MY FRIENDS GO BACK TO SCHOOL. After several days, my "producers" (who aren't fucking paying me, this is a passion project. I don't think they should be using that title.) Finally said "Hey, we like your cut, but we have some small advice," and promised to get me on a call that week. It's been 10 days. I have *almost* no time to do reshoots, and I'll probably have to re-edit WHILE I'M AT THE BEACH, FOR A PROJECT I'M NOT BEING PAID FOR. And my cut is fine. I don't mind changing things, and it's not great (but at least on par with most of what they've done before...) but it's not so heinously bad that it *has* to be "fixed." I have told them my timeline, several times. There are likely to be continuity issues because it's 19 DAYS SINCE I FILMED ANYTHING AND MY HAIR GROWS FAST. Based on the little they've said, the pacing is gonna be FUCKED after I "fix" it. I'm so upset because I have historically liked these guys before, and I never wanna talk to them again at this point. Not to mention, I *HATE* dragging my real friends into this. They don't deserve it. They also aren't being paid. Very disenchanted by this whole thing. Like it's been so long that I consider the project finished. They are asking me to drag out a corpse and give it a makeover. AND I HAVE OTHER SHIT I WANNA GET STARTED ON BUT I'M STUCK IN THIS GODDAMN PURGATORY. Supposedly, they're gonna call this evening but idk how that's gonna go.

TWO

I had this friend. About 3 years ago, she reached the conclusion that I was obsessed with her and ended our friendship. Maybe she was right. I had a crush, sure, but what's obsessed? Maybe I'm just too autistic to know where the line is drawn as far as "feelings" go, beats the fuck outta me. It was early July, so naturally this is really the only time of year I think about her anymore. Besides passing references, simply because I refuse to gadlight myself into forgetting the good memories she just so happens to be in. This makes everyone around me uncomfortable, and they refuse to humor conversations the moment her name comes up. Hence why I have to talk about this here. I'm over her, but I miss talking to her every once in a while. She's cool. I have no idea what she thinks of me these days, thus, a problem arises. My friend & his boyfriend (the irl friends from the previous story) are moving back to the city she lives in within the year, and I'll return to my tradition of visiting them about once a month. Here's the thing: I feel antagonized in that city. Like I'm under constant surveillance by some secret society waiting for a perfect moment to hurt me (emotionally that is, this isn't like... extreme paranoia talking.) And thus, this is no longer an early July funk. She's on my mind a lot. I wish I could just walk up to her (or even message her, I'm still blocked) and be like "I'm coming to this city again. Once a month. We've gotta either hash this shit out, or agree to fully ignore each other in the event we encounter each other in public." But honestly, I just wish I could forget it. I wanna stop thinking about her, and being sad, and occasionally seeing her in dreams. I'd love to never have to think about her again, but my personality simply doesn't allow.

THREE

So also my grandpa died last year and his birthday is in July, so that's not been helping. Sometimes I'm a little overwhelmed by my friends because now that they know I'm never busy, they sometimes spontaneously ask me to hang out all day and that can be a lot. I'm also in the process of moving which is stressful enough, but I hate my current living situation so I wish I could just do it but honestly I don't expect to be in the new place by the end of the year.

Anyway, I like to drink liquor and all this shit is starting to make that a minor problem 👍

[melissak2802]

And my favourites of Agatha Christie's non-antagonist non-investigator non-comedy characters:

The Lee/Crackenthorpe sibling trio consisting of:

Alfred Lee, Emma Crackenthorpe. The loyal and most stable sibling, who perfectly balances the trio with the vulnerable sibling and the sassy sibling (below). The rational centre of the family that both Alfred and Emma learn to be.

David Lee, Brian Eastley. The vulnerable sibling/sibling-in-law of the trio, who spends the story looking for himself and learning not to dwell fully on past.

Harry Lee, Cedric Crackenthorpe. The sassy sibling, optimistic, adventurous and moderately chaotic. Grows to understanding or showing more responsibility.

Other than that:

Pilar Estravados aka Conchita Lopez. She's also likeably chaotic and a dark horse who turns out to be a better person than most thought.

Roger Leonidis. (I thought and decided not to include Philip after all because of him becoming a neglectful parent himself in addition to being victim of neglect, but I still find him interesting.) Roger is one of the first characters by the author I realized I could strongly identify with, so it's personal. But all Leonidis, like most of the author's family mystery characters, are psychologically interesting.

Lydia and Hilda Lee. Both unpretty, both in established relationship (happily married), both strong people (one creative and free-spirited, the other rational and motherly), both work perfectly well with their spouses in a good form of "opposites attract". Same goes for Clemency Leonidis, but she's described as more obsessive/fiercely devoted, while in Lydia and Hilda everything is fully healthy.

Gerry Wade and Ronny Devereux. Characters in a novel that wasn't meant as psychological or anything, just an adventure mystery, but they kind of transcended it for me. Two boys who wanted to play detectives or heroes and thought everything will go as easy as in their stories.

The young Boyntons. These are so real in how they and their issues are written and need their recovery so much.

Mollie Ralston. Overcoming trauma, fixing a past mistake of lack of attention by looking out to help a lost person in the present.

Leslie Casewell. Cannot say anything unspoilerific but she's also admirable for reasons.

Sarah King. I'll put her in the main list after all. Intelligent, professional and caring, occasionally maximalist (as, like Dr Gerard said, is normal for a young person).

Honourable mentions:

Rosaleen Cloade aka Eileen Corrigan. Another likeable impostor who didn't commit any more serious offence, but this time a tragic one. One of the most sympathetic "accomplices".

Frances Cloade. Probably she should have her own spot here. Or share it with Clemency Leonidis, I'm not sure. They feel similar as people, except Frances did overstep a law for the object of her devotion, unwittingly triggered a disaster and remorsed bitterly. I feel sorry for her.

Lucy Eyelesbarrow. Enthusiastic, competent, compassionate. Has no complexes about specializing proudly in a "lowly" field. Didn't get a higher spot in the list because of maybe a bit too good at everything/not given fashioned-out weaknesses to feel more real?

[laplumedemaureen]

Book Review : The Cruel Prince - Holly Black

You're only reading this series now ?!

Well... yes. I'm late. I know. Lmao. Better late than never.

Anyway, I heard a loooot about this series before reading it. Praise comparing it to Leigh Bardugo, Cassandra Clare and Sarah J Maas -> aka, all my favorite authors. So I was very confident picking up this book. I expected it to become my new favorite, my latest obsession.

It was not the case. Hear me out, I did like it. But not as much as I expected to. Allow me to explain. The novel is divided in two parts, Book 1 and Book 2. Book 1 lasts for more than half the actual thing. It's all about lore, worldbuilding, getting to know the characters etc. And I just... couldn't get lost in this world. I suppose little folk and faeries aren't necessarily for me. It was nice-ish, but just too much description and lore at once for my taste.

And the whole plot is basically low-stakes teenage drama and I just couldn't find myself caring about what would happen next. You can definitely tell there's underlying politics and scheming about to come. You can feel it has a lot of potential but... it's just not fully developed. So I was a bit disappointed.

BUT THEN.

You get to the end of Book 1. AND. HERE. IT. IS. There's politics, there's intrigue, there's plot, drama and tension all at once, and it finally starts to feel like the stakes are higher than ever and we're about to get real action and find out what this OC is capable of.

And Book 2 is just awesome. I really liked it and read it super quickly. I do want to read the next book and I did enjoy this one, I just wished the first part was shorter and the second longer.

What about you ? Have you read this series ?

[phoenixwatchesmovies]

What I'm Watching: February 2024

How we doing, folks? Didn't do much between Sailor Moon and Cowboy Bebop, but I made the most of it.

Perfect Blue

JDJWIXBEYSIFNEHXOABSUD I LOVE THIS MOVIE SO MUCH! Psychological horror is my favorite kind, and questions of self, sanity, and perception can be so juicy. This movie made me so fucking uncomfortable the first time I watched it that I didn't think I'd be able to sit through it again, and now I love it even more every time. Even outside of the story, it's just an incredible piece of filmmaking. The transitions in the opening scene alone, shifting between Mima's different personas so seamlessly in motion but so jarringly in presentation, could be a short film on their own. But then the rest of the movie is like that. Reality and illusion weave together so tightly that I still can't fully pin down what's what (I think the key is somewhere in the overexposed vs the saturated shots, but I keep forgetting to pay attention to that to make sure). The soundtrack lends itself brilliantly to the uneasiness and anxiety, and even divorced from the context of the movie, I can't bring myself to listen to "Virtual Mima" all the way through. It's too effective. On the other hand, I also can't comfortably listen to "Angel Of Love," thanks to context, but it's a fun pop song if you've never seen the elevator scene. It's impossible to overstate how much heavy lifting the soundtrack is doing. The story itself is simple enough, a young woman having an identity crisis in the spotlight while a stalker targets the people around her, but the way it unfolds is such a mindfuck, it warrants rewatching (and rewatching and rewatching, etc). I've already mentioned the transitions in the opening, and that expands later on into flashbacks, dreams, scenes that seem to be real life but are later revealed as part of the crime drama Mima is filming. It makes it hard to predict what is really going on, right up until the moment before a thing happens and that one tiny clue makes everything else click into place. This is the kind of writing I aspire to. As if that's not enough, the themes of celebrity worship, obsession, exploitation in the entertainment industry, and mental illness, and this movie stays relevant. For all that it takes place during the shift from analog to digital and the early days of the internet, it feels eerily timeless. It's my go-to in conversation about movies: have you seen Perfect Blue?

Labyrinth

If I'd been obsessed with *this* Jim Henson movie instead of The Dark Crystal when I was younger, who knows how it might have changed me as a person. Meh, probably not that much, tbh, since I've always loved stories like this. Which leads me to one of my favorite themes in fiction that I don't really see discussed in regards to this: the stories we tell ourselves. In Sarah's case, her indecisiveness (does she want to be the hero or the villain, and consequently, who does she want Jareth to be?) and unwillingness to lead the story is, ironically, what drives the story. The story she tells herself just happens to her, and she's not responsible for any of it, and it's not fair. A childish mindset, of course, and naturally her arc concerns taking responsibility for herself and learning to balance it with a healthy relationship to fantasy. When put that way, it's even more obvious how important it is that she refuse Jareth and his offer, "Let me rule you, and you can have everything." Stay in this dream world and everything you could ever want or desire is yours forever? A tempting offer for anyone, and Sarah's decision is a.) What finally, truly assigns her the role of the hero, and b.) Pretty wise, considering she's only a teenager. That's all Jareth has to offer, is a dream, and in her own words, "it's all junk." And speaking of Jareth... It's probably for the best I didn't grow up with fear me, love me, etc in my system, because it's done enough of a number on me as it is. What else to say? He's David fricken Bowie, what more do you need to say? This also applies to the music, just so we're clear (and that goes double for "Chilly Down"). And for the rest, it's Jim fricken Henson!

Mrs Brown's Boys

And that's basically the series so far in a nutshell. It kinda reminds me of The Carol Burnett Show, if there were episodic plot lines instead of sketch comedy and they'd been allowed to swear. I think that's mostly to do with the fourth wall and/or character breaks throughout, the former of which happens frequently enough to be a running gag but not so often it becomes a gimmick, and the latter is always fun no matter what you're watching.

Wolf Creek 2

So, if you start playing franchise bingo with slasher movies, you notice the villains themselves fall into two categories: they either don't talk and they're boring/only there to be indestructible killing machines, or they do talk and they're the absolute worst/will kill you for sure but will have so much fun doing it. (This excludes Terrifier, which is an outlier adn should not be counted.) And you can guess which category Mick Taylor falls into. I posted a few thoughts while watching this one, and I think overall, I dig it. The flashier action bits are to be expected, given that sequels tend to take the bigger-is-better approach, but other than that? Consistent as hell from the first one. Tense, graphic, and mean-spirited, with gorgeous cinematography, protagonists you can root for, and a villain who is both just fucking AWFUL and charismatic enough to make you question your judgement. And apparently there's a series???

[autisticempathydaemon]

I hope you're still doing these aaaaaa! What song are you fixated on at the moment? What lyric or verse, and why? Aqua Regia by Sleep Token! Specifically the lyrics "my love is an animal call/cutting through the darkness, bouncing off the walls/between teeth on a broken jaw/following a bloodtrail, frothing at the maw" there is just something so VISCERAL about them it really scratches my brain

What is your Enneagram type? Enneagram Type 4 (I can't remember the wing, but I think it's 4w5 aaaaa)

Tell me about your childhood imaginary friend This probably does NOT count, I didn't really have an imaginary friend, but this question just reminded me that I used to be OBSESSED with the movie Labyrinth and used to pretend to be Sarah a LOT

Do you love gargantuan Youtube video essays, and if so, which is your favorite and why? I'm more of a fan of short-form science-y or educational videos, but does a 30 minute one count? I really love the a video essay on Ocarina of Time called "OOT - A Masterclass in Subtext"

What is your go-to way to fall asleep? ASMR for sure (I could probably count on one hand the number of times I have fallen asleep in silence over the last year and a half), but I also really like doing nonogram puzzles before bed - I've conditioned myself to get sleepy when I do them 😅

What is your favourite of Redacted’s audios, and why? I can probably fully recite "A Talk With One of Your Devious Owners" at this point - Not only is the really steady monotone tone of this one super relaxing to me, but I really like James as a character with complex and warring emotions. The cat/mouse vibe that this one introduced is very fun, and I love the way he slyly reveals all of the asset's own cards to them.

What Redacted boy holds no appeal to you, and why? I am so sorry to say it, but Caelum does not spark joy 😭 I think he is very sweet, and I love him as a character, but I have a hard time listening to those ones.

Tell me about that one book/movie/tv show you know all the words to. Oh god, suddenly I've forgotten every movie or TV show I've ever seen in my LIFE. I would say I could recite a good chunk of Elton John's biopic, Rocketman, BUT ALSO I watched Willy Wonka & The Chocolate Factory (the one from 1971) a few days ago and was UNSETTLED by how easily I could recite that one line-by-line.

Which Redacted boy are you platonically attracted to? Like- forget dating, which dude do you want to be your best friend? I would die to be friends with Huxley. I think he would be SO easy to be around and just be yourself with. He also seems like the type of friend to listen to you actively while somebody talks over you or circle back to what you said when nobody heard you. Plus I just know one of his hugs would fix me.

Do you have a go-to thing you ramble about when you’re tired, and if so, what is it? mine is also space! I could talk for ages about space. I also have a tendency to get a second wind when I get into bed and I get rambly about whichever latest musical or fandom I'm obsessed with.

Tell me your go-to gas station and drink combo. It has been a MINUTE since I've done this but my favourite gas station snacks were always a bag of salt & vinegar kettle chips + a bottle of Arizona iced tea.

Tell me about your favorite playlist at the moment. I can't tell if this refers to Redacted Playlists or Music, so I'll answer both: I have a Spotify playlist of songs I associate with Geordi, and no matter WHAT mood I'm in, they ALWAYS hit. They are mainly about love and self-image but even the sad ones don't make me feel super sad, just kinda relaxed and seen, I guess? I relate to Geordi a lot. For Redacted playlists, Sadism's Hold is ALWAYS going to be a winner for me. I have thought about Ivan's arc probably more consecutive hours than any other character.

What’s your guilty pleasure media, and why? Definitely ASMR/Boyfriend RP type content. I've been getting more comfortable wearing merch out in the real world and I usually find it easier to just refer to it as "a podcast I'm into" 😅

And whatever else you think tells me about who you are! My favourite colour is yellow, I love thunderstorms (the more thunder/lightning) the better, and I want to absolutely eat my hands when media makes a reference to Icarus or Cannibalism as a love language.

Hmmm… interesting. You are a very interesting person who gave me a lot of interesting information to work with, and I like you a lot. You know who else would like you? Ollie.

The Free Spirit is such a fun type, because it’s all in the name; you’re so unique and alive and all over the place in the best way. Just like he did his Coworker, Ollie would so admire you, would be so in awe that someone as vibrant as you is with him. Yet, he is so good for you. You relating to Geordi makes me think you could use someone steadfast, cheerful, and unwaveringly loyal, and Ollie would definitely be that for you.

You would have such a fun, cozy home, you, Ollie, and Cattywumpus. You love space, he loves Star Trek; I bet he loves watching episodes with you and hearing your passionate diatribes on the stars and sci-fi technology. I could also see you helping him become a musical fan, since he’s such a geek in general; I think he’d really enjoy them. I also love to imagine y’all winding down for bed and him just watching you and your puzzles, confused and awestruck and adoring. (Lord knows I am awestruck; I googled nonograms, and I literally couldn’t figure out what you’re supposed to do after three webpages.)

Song:

"What's easy is right", my mother's advice/ You are the reason I never think twice/ Wherever we go, what glitters is gold/ You'll be my best friend until we grow old/ I had a nightmare (oh)/ But now that I'm not scared

Though I don’t necessarily agree with that mother's advice, I do think it fits since it would be so easy for y’all. I think his easygoing, affable nature along with your shared interests means you’ll not just be a good couple but great friends, and that’s the ticket to a comfy, loving home and life with your cat.

Runner-Ups:

Your love for science and space makes Anton a fun choice for one of your runner-ups; I think he’d have the most fun listening to you infodump in addition to having engineering experience to contribute. Vega is a runner-up based solely on what you said about cannibalism as a love language, because I spend a lot of time around @gingerbreadmonsters and could not associate that trope with anyone else.

note: thank you for waiting ☀️

Read this post and send me an ask if you’d like a match-up of your own! 💌

[mermaidsirennikita]

I'm having a rough time with uni and getting a job so I need a bit of cheering. Could you please recommend me some of your favourites HR books? Something to calm me down. Thank you so much ❤️

Aww, dude, I'm sorry. I've been there. It's such a tough transitional time, and I'm actually helping my little sister in a similar spot. I'm confident y'all will get to where you need to be, but it's a struggle for a little while and I want to validate your feelings there.

I also am so so down to offer some comfort reads!

What I Did for a Duke by Julie Anne Long. JAL is a really good comfort read author to me because her books are funny and a bit light, while at the same time offering a lot of passion. This one has a hero who's around 39/40 and a heroine who's 20, and he's out there to get revenge on her brother (who cucked him) by deflowering her. But she's fully aware of his plan and is actually kind of using his attentions to try to make this guy she's into jealous. It's got some angst, but it's sexy and very romantic.

After Dark with the Duke by Julie Anne Long. My other favorite JAL! Another age gap book, 42-year-old stern duke is staying at the same boarding house as this 25-year-old scandalous opera singer. He hurts her feelings so to make it up to her he offers to teach her Italian, and then.... shit gets oN.

Fifth Avenue Rebels series by Joanna Shupe. Best read in order, imo, because the first three books are all good to great and lead up to this intense crescendo with the final book.

The Heiress Hunt--House party, childhood friends reunite and he's super jealous because she's about to get engaged to a hot duke.

The Lady Gets Lucky--Shy heroine, rake hero, she asks him to help her with sex lessons so that she's less of a wallflower. He's trying to prove that he's a Business Bitch. It's very hot and fun.

The Bride Goes Rogue--Hero and heroine were betrothed by their fathers and she realizes he has no intention of following through, and they sort of break up? But directly after that they hook up at a masquerade sex part, and they enter into this love/hate thing.

The Duke Gets Even--Hero and heroine are in a long-term enemies to lovers deal (he's the aforementioned hot duke) and start hooking up on the low, but he needs to marry for money and she's a scandalous lady rogue who refuses to settle down. All time favorite!

A Rogue by Any Other Name by Sarah MacLean. My favorite MacLean, childhood friends who were separated reunite when he (now a Bad Man) forces the heroine to marry him so he can get his inheritance back. One Good Earl Deserves A Lover follows this and is one of the best dirty talk books ever, with a nerdy heroine and a hero she asks to corrupt her--and he's like ONLY VERBALLY.

Of course, Dreaming of You is my favorite Kleypas, and a total classic--intrepid writer heroine saves the life of a rough gambling club owner and forces him to let her shadow him as she researches her next book. It's got a lot of angst, but it's also so funny and romantic.

Grace Callaway writes a funny, hot historical, though I will say they have mystery subplots which can get a bit dark. I would recommend trying her Charlie's Angels retelling series, starting with Olivia and the Masked Duke (young heroine realizes she wants to get with her older man friend who sees her as a little sister after she spies on him spanking a woman).

Alexis Hall writes gorgeous, funny queer historical romances that hit deep themes but are so fucking funny. If you're in the mood for less angst, ready Something Wonderful (m/m roadtrip romance) and Something Spectacular (nonbinary/nobinary like... historical celebrity romance?). If you're down for more angst, try A Lady for a Duke (friends to lovers with a trans heroine).

Vivienne Lorret writes comforting, funny, emotional historicals--I'd recommend The Wrong Marquess (light enemies to lovers with the hero falling for his little sister's friend; there's a scene where he is so obsessed with her that after she stops eating a bowl of ice cream he finishes it and has to hold back from licking the bowl, I die), How to Steal A Scoundrel's Heart (heroine agrees to be a rogue's mistress for four months, he's all "I'll feel nothing" and feels everything), and Never Seduce a Duke (fucking WILD, nerdy hero becomes obsessed with this heroine because he thinks she's trying to steal from him, he chases her over like three countries and then they separate.... but after they reunite a couple years later, it looks like he left something behind without realizing itttt).

If you're down for some old school medievals (these have some light dubcon and dated references to the Ottoman Empire that aren't super heavy, but are present) I'd recommend Elizabeth Lowell's Untamed (hero and heroine in an arranged marriage, he wants a son real bad but women of her line shall only bear sons if they are in love, it's insane) and Forbidden (direct follow up, the sub-villain of the previous book shows up in another land with amnesia and the heroine charged with caring for him feels pain if she touches anyone but himmmm). They're fucking wild but they totally transport you to another state of mind, trust me. I did like the last book, Enchanted, as well--but rape is a heavy part of the plot and the heroine is very traumatized by that (she was not raped by the hero, but she and the hero are in an arranged marriage and she refuses to tell him why she abhors his touch).

The Dragon and The Pearl by Jeannie Lin is an amazing enemies to lovers villain as hero book with a warlord who takes the former emperor's concubine hostage in order to get information out of her... and falls in love.

Lorraine Heath, I'll always recommend--some of her books can be a bit heavier, but if you want something zany that will take your mind away from everything, there's always Gorilla Twins, aka The Earl Takes All, the one where the hero pretends to be his dead identical twin so that the heroine (his dead brother's pregnant wife) doesn't miscarry. Waking Up with the Duke is my absolute favorite of hers, the one where the hero's best friend asks him to get the heroine pregnant because the best friend is impotent (hero's fault).

Maiden Lane can be a bit intense, but I think Thief of Shadows is an angsty if ultimately uplifting book--the one where Winter Makepeace runs around like Zorro fighting crime and saving kids and falls in love with a widow. He's a virgin, she is NOT. Does deal with infertility.

Of course, Tessa Dare's books are so funny and sexy. Spindle Cove is a total comfort series for me, especially A Week to Be Wicked.

The Secret Lives of Country Gentlemen by KJ Charles is a lovely m/m historical that has an amazing setting, some found family vibes, and great funny, heartfelt dynamic between the heroes.

Indigo is my favorite Beverly Jenkins book so far--it does deal heavily with themes of slavery, as the heroine was enslaved as a child and works with the Underground Railroad now. But it's a super well-written, emotional, "rake falls hard and CANNOT get up" romance.

Hotel of Secrets by Diana Biller is a historical set in Vienna that's funny, hot, emotional, and has a good little mystery subplot. Heroine is running a hotel, hero is a virgin spy, he saves her life a ton while some mysterious person tries to kill her.

[i-am-winterborn]

Current album obsession: The Book of Broken Glass By Sarah and the safeword

Something totally new and weird that I'm gonna try to do when i have feelings about albums I'm gonna break them down track by track and talk about them

Sarah and the Safe Word is a dark cabaret band from Atlanta Georgia fronted by Sarah Rose. they are currently my favorite band and I wanted to break down this album and talk about it so if what I have to say about it seems interesting please give The Book of Broken Glass a listen

Track one: A Wake, Violet Makes Her Wish The opener to our album setting the mood with a simple poem "Several years of sorrow without breathing Mourn the dead Lamps are out of midnight oil Lost lovers and lost friends Now, the jury's hung No kingdom come Sold bones to pay the rent Let us gather 'round the fire once more and sing Sing while light is left" Its simple and sets the mood as our main character violet attends a funeral and starts our story

Track two: Ruby Off The Rails Track two introduces us to Ruby Violets mother and and delves into a ritual used to summon Something that isn't fully explained delving into the occult and gothic themes of the album

Track Three: Old Lace Old lace leans heavy into the dark cabaret sound that the band has established in previous albums the song deals with feelings of ego death and the loss of identity.

Track Four: A Little Evil Never Hurt Anyone The Sluttiest song on this album its dancy its fun and its all about doing things you know you shouldn't. its meaning is in the title and the chorus "Just do it in anger Just do it for fun A little evil never hurt anyone"

Track Five: No One’s Home My interpretation of this song is that it delves into Sarah finding out more information about her father learning that he wasn't what he seems that he's something not human and so is she.

Track Six: But Tonight! We Dance! Ft. Dog Park Dissidents This song is fantastic and Dancy and features queer punk duo Dog Park Dissidents its also in my interpretation of the album when Violet starts to die

Track Seven: Too Dressed Up To Die THE STRINGS IN THIS SONG!! the violin work in the song is by far the best part its really all i can gush about as far as the story of the album goes violet is absolutely dying here

Track Eight: Soldiers Of Rock N’ Roll Ft. Chumbawamba No really it features Chumbawamba and it fucks it is an amazing song and starts pushing into a heavier sound before the next song does a full Genre switch. Story wise something is absolutely saving Violet here

Track Nine: All The Rage Ft. Jamee Cornelia Here we have a genre switch to a Nu Metal song and that's not me being discouraging its amazingly done you don't notice that's what happened till the rap breakdown hits but then it hits and its mind blowing

Track Ten: Broken Crowns, Forgotten Pageants Sarah Rose Flexes everything her voice can do here. this song really Transends influence in my mind it is Sarah rose and nothing else and it is beautiful.

Track Eleven: Sky On Fire Another beautiful song with fantastic work from the violins The line in this song that really stands out to me in relation to the story of the album is "But if I ever had a father Then I know his name was John" her grappling with her memory's of her father and finding out what he really was

Track Twelve: A Sleep: The Owl Makes His Offer We opened with a wake and close with a sleep this is the best song on the album bar none but for it to hit properly you have to listen to the rest of the album all i can say about it is that its possibly the best song I've ever heard and it ends with the same poem that we opened this album with.

Track Thirteen: X So this song requires some context Sarah Rose is a transgender woman and this song is Violet regretting never coming out to her father as trans and her transitioning "And all that I want is your chance to see tomorrow In a skin that I can live in Or a life that wasn't borrowed" the song is a beautiful way to end the album and that's the album give it a listen and feel free to rb with your thoughts and opinions

[humanoidtyphoons]

i can't help but ship wendy/hook a little, i suppose. not exactly romantic, maybe more in the vein of heroes/villains and being invested in that sort of relationship, however mired it gets. something in line with erik/christine, or jareth/sarah, perhaps, in the sense that the older male character is representative of sexuality, etc, and certainly when you read peter pan, there's a couple of lines where it does feel like hook is a romantic figure, dark and brooding and entrancing of what he reflects, a psyche of everything wendy fears she might be, and a little drawn to that, despite herself... jm barrie does have a couple of lines here and there where it's a little... mm, hook's a captivating and attractive person, but hang on.

my new obsession is you, jason isaacs!hook says in 2003 version, and jfc man. jason isaacs, you are dazzling. fully aware that hook is manipulating and preying on wendy in order to get to peter pan, lying through his teeth, as he says otherwise.

i don't really believe that peter pan exists solely in wendy's head, bc that's no fun, but i do like the story best seen as the lens that it is wendy's story and how she triumphs and grows up, in ways that hook and peter both refuse to.

i'm not sure i'm interested in a wendy returns to never-neverland in the future, bc her arc is so realized and well done, i think. but i do know that i like jareth/sarah fics of that same premise. idk.

[here2bbtstrash]

WGYUEHGKUEHRGJK THIS IS SO FUCKING NICE I'M OVERWHELMED

NEVER APOLOGIZE FOR LONG FEEDBACK omg 👹 i need it to live!!!! it encourages me like nothing else 😩 especially for this story considering i have literally been thinking about it since A P R I L - the fact that i can finally talk about it with other people and hear everyone's interpretations and analysis of it.... ugh there's literally nothing better!!!!

wooooof you really got them all, this chapter really was punch after punch huh 💀 SORRY Y'ALL LMAO reader had a lot of stuff to catch up with her and yoongi's going through his own shit too 😭 GOD

but god yes i lovedlovedloved the moments with jimin and jk here 🙏 now that i think about it they kinda flipped a bit, jimin has been overly harsh (and ~sassy~) with her while jk has obviously been very lenient and sweet. and to see jimin give her the big dose of best friend love while jk actually learned to stand up for himself for once.... it makes me so proud of both of them 🥺 MY BABIES

and yoongi is 😭 an isolator.... as we can see (and as he points out) - he pushes people away. AND GOD IT HURTS ME.......

ngl i'm lowkey shook that the resignation/scene with her boss made you cry!!!! i really loved that moment, i always knew she would resign but didn't actually know it would ALL come up (sometimes things surprise me in the midst of writing a scene, idk these characters just be doing things) but it makes so much sense for her to REALLY move forward with this hard reset on life. and she needed that little win of being reminded that she CAN do hard things and she IS capable 😩

I ALREADY TOLD SARAH BUT I'M SO OBSESSED THAT Y'ALL HAVE A BOOK CLUB HEUFISKGDG OH TO BE A FLY ON THE WALL..... i can't wait until the series is done so we can fully dissect everything and y'all can throw all your questions and thoughts at me!!!!

i've gotten this question here and there in asks and on AO3 in the past aaaaand i'm still undecided rn! i definitely think i wanna give this universe some time to breathe once i finish (i need a break from it this shit has been rotting in my brain for SO long lmao) - but! i think i could be up for some yoongi drabbles of how he was feeling during certain scenes. it would certainly be interesting 😵‍💫 to try and get all the way inside his head. i don't want to completely promise BUT i definitely will at least toy with the idea and see what comes out!!

and god i would LOVE to do a baby star candy spinoff 🫠 he is literally my favorite and i could write a million fucking words about him just like making tiktoks and playing with his dogs and dressing in all black i love him i love him i love him i'll never be over it

ugh you are so so so sweet 🥺 thank YOU so much - as i said it really does mean the world to me to have readers who are so involved and leave such thoughtful and encouraging feedback. i can't express how much it means to me and how very deeply i appreciate you!!!! 🙇‍♀️ thank you so much for reading and being so wonderful!!!!! 💜

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

[bridgeportbritt]

Hi! Can you recommend some stories? Im looking for some now ones to read. Thank you!

Hi there! Yes, I can recommend some good stories both of which I’m reading and need to catch up on when I’m not doing all the things.

Here's What I'm Reading Currently

@ladybugsimblr - You have to join the butterflyz! I've been reading this story for a long time and to see the growth of the characters and my favorite part the extraness (lol) over time is just so fun! I tell my husband all the time that Bailey Kay is the Beyonce of simblr and I stand by that. lol.

@storiesbyjes2g - If you want amazing character development and amazing writing skills, please read Jes's stories. Jes has the ability to make even the most mundane thing sound interesting. She also develops her characters so well. Please read about my girl Mel and her whole fam.

@trentonsimblr - I started reading Sarah's story because of the pretty screenshots, but I've enjoyed the storylines ever since! She has a good mix of political and personal drama which is perfection to me. Another simmer with great character development!

@atreanroyals - Looking for suspensful royal drama with a hint of forbidden love? You’ve got it right here. You can tell with each screenshot how much detail went into them. If you’re not reading this story, please go right now! Who wouldn’t want to read about Bria’s bestie, Ashala?

@whitmoreroyals - Although, she’s taking a break, I’ve really been enjoying the New Beginnings story because it’s such a cool way to tell a country’s history. Her modern story is also very good. So give it a read!

@cinamun - Another story that I have been reading for the longest time. If you like crazy characters, ridiculous plotlines, and to laugh yourself to death. Please follow Indya’s story! She is also doing a gameplay and does amazing edits!

What's in My Queue or I Need to Catch Up On

@trumpets0ng - I’m a little behind on this story, but I will be catching up! I’ve been obsessed with Walker ever since I saw her on my dash. The storytelling is truly just chef’s kiss. Yet another creator who develops her character’s so well that you feel like you know them!

@therichantsim - I’m about 2 or 3 chapter beind, but if you love a story full of drama, this is it! I love the authenticity of the characters who all have such interesting stories. One day, I’ll be caught up again!

@thealbionroyals - I’m a little behind here, but love Shannon’s authentic storytelling and I know how much work she puts into her story from posemaking to ccmaking, etc. So, def check this one out!

@sosa-royals - The curse of wanting to read stories from the beginning but having no time is haunting me here because I can just tell when a post hits my dash that I want to know what’s going on, but I do not! One day I’m going to take the day off and catch up because I can tell this will be good.

@houseofwindensor - Let’s talk about how accurate the historical sims look because it’s uncanny. You will be mesmerized by the sets and the characters if you read this one because it looks awesome! Need to catch up on Chap 2!

@empiredesimparte - Another simblr who amazes me with their screenshots and builds. I’m very behind, but I’ve enjoyed what I’ve read so far and have even learned more about France! Definitely take a read!

@cyberth0t - How I have fallen in love with Ro without being caught up in the story, I’m not sure. But, catching up on Inheritance is on my list! Just know the screenshots are beautiful and the characters are hot lol.

Royal Sims Directory

I know that there are a ton of stories I’m missing or haven’t had a chance to read because as you can see, there are quite a few already and a girl is busy. But, if you are looking for Royal stories like mine, check out this directory we put together. Lots of good ones in here that even I haven’t fully discovered yet! Hope this helps!

[giorno-plays-piano]

Treasure hunt Part 2

Pairing: dragon!Steve Rogers x Reader

Warnings: yandere, obsession, kidnapping, mentions of breeding, non-con.

Words: 2035.

Summary: No knight would dare to save a sacrificial bride of the dragon.

Part 1

______________

Stepping on the cold stone floor of the cave, you carefully circled around the mountains of gold and silver and moved forward. Navigating in the dark was incredibly hard, but the soft glow of gems and shining armours here and there helped you to get through. 

You were in your old torn nightgown again, the fancy garments Steve had gifted you laying on the bed along all those necklaces, earrings, cuffs, broches and rings finished with precious stones. You didn't need any of those as you run towards your way out of the deep cave. The only thing you craved for was your freedom.

Almost tripping over the golden spear, you finally saw the moonlight coming from the entrance of dragon's dungeon. You held your breathe. You were so close.

In a second you sprinted towards it with gleeful abandon, thinking of the dark night sky, huge fields and mountains surrounding the cave. It was scary to think you would have to fend for yourself from now on, but you were a traveler. You could make it as long as no one tried to seize you like those villagers, now all gone thanks to the dragon's wrath. You gulped. You prayed he would sleep soundly while you sneak out in the darkness of the night.

A part of you felt guilty for leaving him after everything he had done for you, but being his little pet because he deemed you too feeble to leave was humiliating. Maybe you would find some other way to thank him for his generosity later. As of now, the only thing on your mind was getting away from this place.

You could already feel the slight chill in the air when you got closer to the huge entrance of the cave and rushed towards it, thinking of nothing else but the cool wind blowing outside. Your lips curled when you saw the moon and stars high above you. However, before you stepped on the grass, you felt a push so strong you ended up thrown far back at the rocky floor and yelped in sudden pain - you crushed your elbow, blood seeping from it on the cold stone beneath you. Tears sting at your eyes as you hugged your arm and bit down on your lip to stop screaming.

What was that? What had pushed you so hard it sent you flying? You saw nothing in front of you, no scary creatures guarding the entrance of the prison you were locked in. Yet something didn't want you leave.

... or rather someone.

In a few moments you heard a distant sound of flapping gaunt wings and stilled. You had awoken the dragon with your cry, and now he was coming for you. You had failed terribly.

His blue eyes were glowing in the dark brighter than gems as he flew to you in his true form, big as a mountain, while you stared at his scaled golden wings with horror. His monstrous shadow covered you from above before he started landing, his gaze disturbing, anxious. A flap of his wings set off a little tornado, and you pressed yourself to the floor in panic. He was going to eat you. Burn you. Make you suffer for your disobedience. You had to stay in the cave instead of opposing his wish to protect you.

You sobbed quietly once the dragon had partly changed his form in haste - although his body was human, his sharp claws and long tale belonged to the dragon, his new appearance strange and frightening. He hurried towards you, his eyes on your blood-stained arm.

"What happened to you, my love?" Steve asked, bending over and reaching for your elbow. "Why did you leave your bed?"

What could you answer? With eyes full of tears, you kept your mouth shut, watching him growing with worry at your silence. You had betrayed his trust. 

"I will heal your wound, stay still." He sighed when you chewed on your lower lip, afraid to look at him.

The ointment suddenly appeared in his hand as if by magic, and Steve had torn the cotton fabric forcefully to look at the blood seeping from your arm. He said nothing at all as he wiped the wound and applied fresh-smelling balm on your skin. You felt disgusted at yourself: your savior had been so patient and kind, yet you preferred to escape without expressing your gratitude.

"You gave up all the gifts I brought you, my love." The dragon stated calmly as he finished. "Why? Don't be silent, sweetheart. I demand you to speak."

Desperately wiping the tears falling again and again with the back of your hand, you nodded. You could not bring youself to open your mouth.

"Why?" He asked one more time, his eyes the same color as the dark sky again. "Why do you want to leave me, my love? Have I not treated you kindly? Have I not given you everything you wanted?"

"I want to see the night sky." You muttered under your breathe, looking at the torn hem of your nightgown. "I want to feel the grass under my feet and listen to the chirping of the crickets."

"You are not my prisoner, sweetheart. I can bring you wherever you want me to."

A whine rebounded from your chest at his words.

"I don't want to be a sacrificial lamb." You sobbed, shaking your head desperately. "I don't want to be a pet. I don't want to ask for permission every time I step outside the cave."

"You are not my pet." The dragon whipped his huge sharp tail with such force it ruined one of the mountains of gold close to it, and you squeezed your eyes shut, terrified of his temper tantrums. "You are the one I've chosen to keep by my side, shield from the dangers of the world and share my treasures with you so you would share yours. Why isn't it enough? What else do I have to do?"

He pressed his lips together in a thin line, his claws dangerously close to your body as if he were going to sank them in your sensitive flesh and tear you apart. He would kill you, oh he would, you felt it in your bones. 

"I have nothing to give you, Steve, Sarah's son." You uttered and finally raised your head to meet his darkened gaze. "And I want nothing from you. Why do you want to keep me? You won't profit from it."

His eyes softened at the sight of your flushed face, wet from tears still streaming down your cheeks and chin. You looked so pathetic in front of him in your old nightgown, degraded bloodstains covering once white fabric, yet so beautiful, so lovely it enraged him to think he could lose you despite all his efforts. It bewildered him how fast he had grown used to your calming presence, your smell, your voice. You said you had nothing to give him, but you were so wrong. He wanted you. He wanted to feel you close, see your pretty face, touch your tender body heavy with his child, your breasts full of milk... He wanted you like no other treasure of his. No one but you could give him what he desired the most.

All of a sudden, he jumped at you and covered your trembling shoulders with his callous palms, his hungry mouth devouring yours while you were frozen on the spot. His hot tongue had poked at your lips, and you gave up to him, granting him access and barely recognizing what you were doing. It felt like a shock jolted him, followed by a pleasant tingling, and the dragon slammed his mouth down against yours with a groan.

"You have a lot to give me." He crooned when you were left gasping for air, astounded and confused. "You have something no one but you can grant me, sweetheart."

You gasped once his clawed hands cupped your soft belly through the thin cotton fabric, watching the man panting and looming above you. You realized just how wrong you were, thinking of him as your protector, a knight in shining armor while he was exactly who villagers told you he was - a hungry monster craving for his bride's warm flesh, just in a different way. 

"No, no." You tried pushing him back, and his sharp tail hit the ground loudly, making you shiver. "P-please, I'm only human. I can't do it."

"My mother was human too." Letting out a chuckle, Steve lowered the nightgown on your shoulders while you desperately clenched the fabric in your arm, your other palm on his chest to prevent him from coming closer. "Why are you afraid? I won't harm you. In the end, this is the destiny of all women, isn't it? To become a good wife and mother. Surely, it is better to belong to me rather than any filthy peasant?"

You couldn't keep arguing, knowing your words would fall in deaf ears, and tried breaking free from his grip only to make the dragon more excited as he climbed on top of you, lifting the hem of your nightgown as his hands trailed upward. His palms were burning your thighs when you whimpered, shaking and moving beneath him like a snake. Why was he doing it? Did he force himself on each and every bride of his and got rid of them later once he got bored?

"Please, please let me go." You pleaded, feeling him leaving hot kisses down your neck and shoulders, his lips dry but soft. "Let me leave, I beg of you!"

"Oh you can't leave, sweetheart. You've eaten the dragon fruit, remember?" His toothy smile made you feel sick. "Now you are bound to me."

"Like all of them were?" You yelled in disgust and despair, staring at the dragon's hollowed blue eyes. "Did you truly let them go as you said? Or did you eat them when you no longer loved them?"

Your words made him laugh as he bared your breasts, ripping the fabric apart with his claws but avoiding touching your skin before his hands fully tranformed into human ones. Dragon's enourmous tail layed close to you, its razor-edged tip reminding you Steve could kill you within a few seconds.

Then he stroked your wet cheek with his fingers and cooed softly, his gaze darkening at the sight of your angered face. "None of them deserved to stay, sweetheart. I let them go. I don't know why you insist I eat humans as if I were a lowly beast, but if you're so eager to see me doing it, I will eat you."

Your mouth tasted like copper when you bit on your lip too hard, missing the mischievous look in Steve's bright blue eyes as you flinched from his touch, his tail now pressing you to the cold stony floor. The dragon backed down a bit, and you saw how he hungrily looked at your thighs and belly. He prepared to devour you, tear your flesh apart, and you were to die at his hands for your stubbornness and stupidity. Trembling like a leaf, you shut your eyes, preparing for the end.

Then you winced from a tender touch, Steve caressing your naked mound with his hand lovingly, his eyes watching you intently. What was that? Was he going to sank his teeth into?..

You covered your mouth with your palm as you felt his long wet tongue on your gentle folds. Gods, it would be even more painful than you had ever imagined. This perverted monster wanted to devour your womanhood. But before you could cry out in pain, you suddenly mewled from his pleasurable kitten licks and squirmed, trying to get up to see what the dragon was doing.

"W-wha..."

"I'm sorry, my dear." Steve smirked, raising his head a bit and pressing a shameless kiss to your mound. "But this is how I like to eat cute little girls like you. So, keep this pretty hand away from your mouth and let me show you how good I can make you feel."

_____________

Tags: @chris-evans-indian-fanfic @kawairinrin

[canyousonicme]

Ten Things You Never Knew About 'Doctor Who' and 'A Discovery Of Witches' Star, Alex Kingston

By Nick Levine | March 9, 2021

10 'Things' You Never Knew About 'Doctor Who' and 'A Discovery of Witches' Star Alex Kingston

You probably know Alex Kingston as River Song in Doctor Who, or Sarah Bishop in A Discovery of Witches, or Dr. Elizabeth Corday in ER, or Dinah Lance in Arrow, or Moll Flanders in The Fortunes and Misfortunes of Moll Flanders... We could go on. She's had a lot of great roles over the years. But as she celebrates her 58th birthday Thursday (March 11), let's take some time to get to know this fantastic actress a little better.

1. She's proud of her German heritage.

Kingston was born and brought up in the town of Epsom, near London, to Anthony Kingston, an English butcher, and his German wife, Margarethe Renneisen. Her maternal uncle, Walter Renneisen, is a prominent German actor who founded his own touring theater company.

2. She's super-humble about her prolific career.

“I don’t know if it is a good thing or not," Kingston told The Times in 2019, "but I have never been particularly pushy. I know there are actors, male and female, who really are on the front foot when it comes to their careers and networking. I just can’t do that. I find it kind of embarrassing."

She added candidly: "There is a part of me that has had to reconcile to the fact that maybe my career didn’t go where it might have, but, at the same time, I’ve done fine. I’ve managed to pay the bills and support everybody, so that’s not bad. I still have a life. I clean the house, I walk the dog — I think that’s really important. I want to be a regular person, and sometimes that means you don’t get the jobs.”

3. During a night out in Atlanta, Georgia, she happened upon a Doctor Who-themed burlesque show.

“The dancer started as William Hartnell," Kingston told The i. "She had his black tuxedo coat and a cravat. She took that off and underneath that she was Tom Baker in a big scarf. Then she took that off to reveal she had Peter Davison’s cricket whites on underneath. Then she took that off, and she was David Tennant in his little pin-stripey jacket."

Kingston continued: “She must have been boiling. Under that, she was Matt Smith in a bow tie and a fez. ‎Next she took off Matt, and she was the Tardis. She had Tardis blue sequinned pasties over her nipples and a tiny sequinned G string in Tardis blue. It was so unexpected and hilarious. It illustrates an obsessive love with that world."

Frankly, it sounds like quite an incredible performance – if only there was video footage!

4. She once caused her Doctor Who co-star Matt Smith a moment of, um, rather intimate discomfort.

“One of the most memorable parts of filming," she told London's Evening Standard last year, "was when I flew through the universe, got caught in the Tardis and by mistake kneed Matt Smith, who was playing the Doctor at the time, in the nuts. There were a few tears of laughter from me and cries of pain from him.”

5. She auditioned for Felicity Huffman's role in "Desperate Housewives".

According to Today, she told London's Evening Standard in 2006: "I didn't get the part, and I know why: irrespective of acting ability, I'm just way too big."

6. She had 13 rounds of IVF before becoming pregnant with her daughter, Salome, who is now 19 years old.

"It was very tough. You are so desperate, you don’t really understand what the long-term side effects can be," she told the Mail on Sunday in 2014. "That’s what they don’t tell you in the medical profession. I put on weight with all the IVF – it’s insidious because it happens so slowly and then it’s almost impossible to get rid of it. I was also perimenopausal very early; I have no proof, but I feel that it was linked to the IVF and the different hormones I was taking. There are things that I think aren’t fully explained to women when they are going through all that.

7. As a baby, Salome played Ella Greene, the daughter of Kingston's character Elizabeth and Anthony Edwards' Mark Greene on ER.

8. She wants to cause trouble for 007...a lot of it.

“I would love to be a villain in a James Bond movie, the real villain, the main one," she told the Sunday Post earlier this month. "Because they’ve never had a female villain. And I want to be a villain who does not find James Bond sexy at all. And doesn’t succumb to his charms, I want to be his real nemesis.”

9. When her ER contract wasn't renewed in 2004, Kingston – who was 41 at the time – suggested ageism may have been partly to blame.

"I suddenly felt very old surrounded by these young twentysomethings. Does it mean that I'm the geriatric that's being pushed out because she's too old?" Kingston said in an interview with the Radio Times, according to The Guardian.

Saying that the show "definitely seems to be taking a different tone," Kingston added: "I understand it needs to keep reinventing itself in order to keep going, and apparently I, according to the producers, the writers, am part of the old fogeys who are no longer interesting. In that respect it's a shame."

10. She's written her own River Song novel.

Yes, really! It's called The Ruby's Curse, features River Song and her alter ego Melody Malone, and publishes May 21. Kingston said in a press release: "Having absolutely no idea of the journey I would be taking with River Song when I first uttered those words, ‘Hello Sweetie,’ I cannot begin to express how excited I am to be able to continue not only River, but Melody’s adventures on the written page. A sassy private detective and a time traveling archaeologist joining forces to solve a mystery? What’s not to love!?" [x]