#but god fucking dammit i love them so much

[ktownshizzle]

Love & Lullabies | Part 2

Pairing: Min Yoongi x female Reader

Summary: What begins as a simple favor for your best friend Namjoon soon pulls you into the rhythms of Yoongi’s life—afternoons spent caring for his son, late nights filled with candid conversations, and a connection neither of you thought you needed. You’re just fresh out of a long-term relationship with an ex who didn’t want a family with you, so did you really just stumble into a life you’ve always dreamed of? (Thank god Namjoon isn’t the only one who’s clumsy.)

Alternatively: It’s 2025 and BTS is prepping for their comeback. All members seem to have gained muscle weight from their time at camp. But Min Yoongi has gained a different kind of weight—an 8-pound baby and a fuck-load of responsibility. (Thank god you’re there to help him.)

Genre: Fluff, Angst, Smut, idol!au, Acquaintances to Lovers, Reader is Namjoon’s bestie

Warnings: Yoongi is a DILF (!!!) That’s it.

Chapter warnings: First kiss with this Yoongi (have fun with that), one sexist remark from your dummy bestie, baby mama shows up, cliffhanger

Word count: 5.3k

Posting date: November 19, 2024

Notes: This is inspired by an ask/prompt sent by @yoongznme. Icymi, we did a poll and results show y’all wanted to break this into two parts so we shall have a part 3. Enjoy, my lovelies~ 💕🫶🏼

Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Masterlist

Ever since that dinner when you inadvertently confessed about your age-old attraction to him and assured him that any residual feelings are buried in a metaphorical time capsule, Yoongi seems to have made it his personal mission to rizz you up on purpose.

Haneul’s been especially rambunctious all day. Mealtime is no exception. Yoongi volunteers to feed him, thinking he can rein in some of the pent-up energy. At some point, Haneul squeezes his pouch of organic muesli and carrot puree with so much enthusiasm that it explodes everywhere, sending bright orange flecks across Yoongi’s face and pristine white tee.

“GAHHH!” Yoongi yelps, staring down at the mess, while Haneul absolutely loses it, tiny belly-shaking laughter filling the room.

“Silly, silly sarang,” you coo, using the pet name you’d started calling Haneul lately. It’s adorable how he beams every time he hears it, flashing you that gummy grin like he knows he’s your favorite troublemaker. You laugh too, as you wipe a splatter of puree from Haneul’s cheek with the muslin cloth you were holding.

“Do I have something on my face, too?” Yoongi leans towards you expectantly with the barest of smirks.

“Uh… yeah.” You say, flipping the cloth to a clean side and wiping off the smudge on his cheeks and his chin, and that pesky little morsel on the side of his lip.

For some reason, you seem to need a blast of oxygen straight to your lungs. Stat.

With a lick of his lips, Yoongi nods his thanks. “Gotta change,” he mumbles, lifting the shirt away from his chest with a grimace and walks towards the hallway to his room.

And you almost regret your decision to look back, almost.

Because, oh wow, he’s taking his shirt off. Yep. Fuckin’ dammit. The shirt is off.

Christ.

His shoulders are broad, muscles flexing as he runs a hand through his hair. The infamous “7” tattoo on his shoulder is taunting you. You are unable to pull your eyes away, already knowing you’re doomed.

Then, before he mercifully disappears into his room, he glances over his shoulder and catches you staring. Shit. Your heart plummets straight to your ass. He smirks, U-turns towards you shirtless and utterly shameless.

Your nerves short-circuit as he reaches out, just barely brushing your thigh to pick up his phone from the mat. His eyes hold yours, a dark glint of mischief in them, “You good?”

“Huh?” The brain fog is crazy. You will yourself to keep your eyes above his chest, but of course you gone did it.

Why are his nipples so cute? And damn is that a happy trail?

He snickers softly, like he knows exactly what’s going through your head. “I’ll be back. Han’s eating the remote by the way.”

And with that, he saunters off, leaving you there, a blushing, flustered mess as you find Haneul gnawing on the remote control.

You pull it quickly from his grasp, muttering under your breath, “Sarang, why are you and your appa being such a menace?”

He babbles happily at you, as if he knows he’s not the only troublemaker with a gummy grin in this house that got you wrapped around their finger.

The next time you’re at the Min’s, Yoongi is clearly in a rush, checking his phone and mumbling to himself as he zips up his jacket. “Just text me if you need anything, okay?” he calls over his shoulder, already half out the door.

“Got it,” you reply, bending to set your shoes on the rack. You glance down, expecting to see your usual house slippers—but something else catches your eye.

It’s a… capybara? Big, fluffy, and incredibly cozy-looking slippers, with soft little ears and embroidered eyes, just waiting for you. They’re exactly your size. They’re yours, right? It’s in your usual spot. Beside it… another pair. Same goofy capybara face, but larger. Did Yoongi get a pair for himself, too?

You slip them on, feeling their warmth, their plushness, and a little shiver of wonder and disbelief spreads through you. Yoongi thought of this—thought of you. The butterflies in your stomach are in a frenzy now, and you can’t help but smile, giddy and a little stunned. 

The door swings open. “I forgot my—” Yoongi stops mid-sentence.

You’re standing there, wiggling your toes inside the ridiculous capybara slippers, and when you look up, you catch the slight flush creeping across his cheeks. There’s something so unmistakably soft about his expression and it makes your heart do a strange little flip.

“Please tell me they’re mine,” you jut your bottom lip out, a hopefulness you can’t quite hide.

Yoongi steps inside just enough to grab his keys from the table, shrugs, “Who else would they be for?”

And just like that, he’s gone, the door clicking shut behind him.

You’re left standing there, the capybara slippers snug around your feet, Yoongi’s words replaying in your mind. Your heart flutters as you stare down at them, wondering if maybe, just maybe, this small, thoughtful gesture means as much to him as it does to you.

Since then, you start noticing the small ways Yoongi shows his care. Each time he heads out, he leaves little comforts behind—an extra pillow for you on the couch, a plate of fruit on the coffee table, a cup of Silver Moon tea he prepared for you.

More and more, you start to extend your day to night that Yoongi almost expects you now to stay for dinner or join him for Haneul’s nighttime rituals.

Haneul’s bedtime stories have become a team effort—one night you’re reading, the next it’s Yoongi, who’s surprisingly great with voice acting and sound effects. (You should have known!) When Haneul finally drifts off, Yoongi always waits a moment, exchanging a small, tired smile with you as if to say, We did it.

And before you know it, that age-old crush that you said was buried in a metaphorical time capsule? Yoongi just dug it right back up.

One evening, as you rock Haneul to sleep in your arms, Yoongi comes in quietly, setting down a couple of takeout boxes and two cans of Coke on the coffee table. The baby’s small breaths are warm against your shoulder, his eyelids fluttering as he settles into sleep. You gently lay him down in his crib, brushing a hand over his soft hair before joining Yoongi on the couch. 

“Hungry?” Yoongi asks, sliding a takeout box in your direction. He’s not looking directly at you, focused instead on peeling back the lid of his own food.

“Starving,” you admit, smiling as you pick up your chopsticks. “Thank you.”

The quiet clinks of chopsticks and soft laughter fill the room as you both dig in. Conversation with Yoongi has started to come easier lately, and tonight, it flows so naturally you barely notice the time passing. 

“So, what got you into teaching?” he asks, glancing over at you between bites. “You seem good at it. Really good, actually. Haneul has so many party tricks now.”

You pause, laughing a little to mask the warmth in your cheeks. “I just love kids. I enjoy their energy, even if it’s chaotic.” You glance down. “I’ve always wanted my own. Just… hasn’t quite worked out that way yet.”

He nods, not pressing you, just letting you continue.

“I was in a long-term relationship, but things ended because he wasn’t looking for that kind of future,” you say quietly. “I really wanted a family, kids, but he didn’t. He didn’t even believe in marriage. So, it ended, and I guess that’s why I left and went back home.” 

“I’m sorry to hear that. Must have been so difficult for you.”

You nod, swallowing down the ache that lingers. “Yeah. I think part of me is still working through it, honestly. I hope you don’t think this is weird. But being here, with Han…” you sigh. “I don’t know, it’s helping. Even if he’s not quite mine.”

He’s quiet for a moment, his gaze shifting to his hands, fingers tracing the rim of his soda can. “It’s not weird. Look, you’ve helped us a lot, too. Having you here has made things feel… lighter. Happier.”

The words send a flutter through you, a feeling that scares you as much as it comforts you. Because this feels too domestic. A taste of that life you’ve always longed for. With Jiyong, for years. But now, it’s only Yoongi’s face you see in your mind’s eye. Yoongi and Haneul. You then realize how badly you want this, but you’re afraid of wanting it–afraid of what it might mean to get attached to someone like Yoongi.

“I appreciate that.” You reply. “How have you been adjusting to life as a single dad?” 

Yoongi glances over at you, his gaze thoughtful. “I didn’t expect that it would be this rewarding,” he says, his voice soft, but it trails off. “But… it’s lonely sometimes.” He pauses, his fingers absentmindedly toying with the edge of his sleeve. “Not just the parenting stuff, but the other parts. Like when Haneul does something for the first time—takes a step, says a new word—and I just… look around.”

He shrugs, his lips twitching into a small, self-conscious smile. “And it hits me that there’s no one there to share it with. No one to laugh with, to say like, ‘Hey, did you see that?’”

He laughs quietly, a little embarrassed. “I don’t know. Maybe that sounds selfish. But it’s the truth.”

You shake your head. “It’s not. I think we all want someone to share our life with. It’s not wrong to want that.”

He looks over at you, his gaze holding yours with a gentle intensity. “I guess… it’s easier to admit that with you here. It’s funny because in some ways, you’ve been that person for me, for us.”

The words hang between you and the silence stretches, buzzing with a feeling you can’t quite name. You’re painfully aware of every detail—the curve of his lips, the way his hand rests on his lap, the tenderness in his eyes. You know there’s something there, simmering, and you wonder if he can feel it too.

Finally, he breaks the silence. “Thanks for being here tonight. Really.”

You smile back, heart racing. “Thank you for trusting me. I know… this isn’t easy for you.”

As you sit there, side by side in your matching capybara slippers, the feeling of wanting more, of something real and lasting, settles into your chest. It’s a feeling you thought you’d put on the backburner, but here, with Yoongi, it’s igniting again.

You find yourself chilling at Namjoon’s apartment, days after that dinner, sprawled across his couch with a plate of instant jjajangmyeon balanced precariously on your lap. Some indie album is playing in the background, and you’re too caught up in your spiraling thoughts to even notice Namjoon observing you between bites.

“I’m screwed,” you say suddenly, poking at your noodles with your chopsticks.

Namjoon doesn’t even look affected. “What now?”

“It’s your fault, you big oaf.”

“K stop being cryptic,” he says, motioning for you to explain. “What did I do this time?”

You drop your chopsticks with an exasperated sigh. “Yoongi.”

“Mhm… What about hyung?”

You hesitate, pressing your lips together before blurting out, “I think… I think I like him… again.”

For a moment, Namjoon just stares at you, his expression unreadable. And then he has the audacity to laugh, nearly choking on his noodles as he leans back against the cushions.

“You’re so predictable,” he says between chuckles, shaking his head. “God I knew this was coming.”

You narrow your eyes at him, offended. “What do you mean you knew this was coming?”

“I mean, come on,” he says, gesturing at you with his chopsticks. “You’ve been spending all this time at his place, basically co-parenting Haneul with him. You’re acting like this is some big revelation when it’s been written all over your face.”

You stare at him. “Wow. Are you done?”

Namjoon smirks, tossing his empty takeout box onto the table before leaning forward, elbows resting on his knees. “Okay, okay. Let’s unpack this,” he says, mock-serious. “You like him again. Fine. Why is that a bad thing?”

“Because, dude, it’s Yoongi. What if he’s not actually feeling it, which won’t be the first time? And! I still don't know why he suddenly has a son.”

“You have to ask him that.” Namjoon sets his drink down, his expression sobering slightly. “But answer this—Are you over Jiyong?”

The mention of your ex makes your stomach twist, but you nod, sighing. “Yeah. I’m over him. I’ve come to terms with it. He wasn’t the one for me.”

“Damn right, he wasn’t,” Namjoon mutters, shaking his head. “That guy was an asshole. I never liked him, you know.”

“I know,” you say, laughing softly. “You made it pretty obvious.”

“Good,” he replies firmly. “Because you deserve better. Way better.”

You glance at him, your heart warming a little. “Thanks, Joon.”

“Don’t thank me yet,” he says, leaning back against the couch. “We’re not done talking about hyung.”

You groan again, flopping back against the cushions. “This is so pathetic.”

“No, it’s not,” Namjoon says, his voice softening. “It’s cute. Gross, but cute. And honestly, if hyung’s finally starting to let someone in, I’d rather it be you than some rando.”

You blink, feeling the weight of his words settle over you. “You’re really still shipping us after all these years?”

“Of course,” he says, nudging your knee with his. “You’re good for each other. I’ve known this all along.”

A pause settles as you finish your meal and Namjoon, his drink.

Then, he shakes his head like he’s just realized something. “So this is why Yoongi hyung has been sneaking in some extra work out time in between rehearsals.”

“He’s been walking around his house shirtless. Well, it’s his house, so…” you shrug, pretending you dgaf when really you’ve been thwarting mini heart attacks.

Namjoon’s eyes widen. “No fuckin’ way.”

“Don’t you dare tell him,” you warn, pointing your chopsticks at him.

He smiles wide, teeth blackened by the jajangmyeon sauce. “Only if you say yes to a night out.”

You groan, already mourning the loss of a perfectly good night of doom scrolling, as you toss him a paper towel. “Fine. When?”

You arrive at the bar later than planned. It’s some newly opened speak-easy in Gangnam owned by Joon’s friend. As you push the door that looks like a bookcase from outside, a rush of cool air ruffles the skirt you’re wearing. You definitely took a bit of time selecting your outfit and doing your makeup today, and now you feel really good, great even, even though you initially dreaded going out.

As you scan the room, you spot Namjoon in a large circular booth near the back, surrounded by familiar faces. He spots you first, waving you over with that dimpled grin of his. As you approach, you notice that the atmosphere is already loose and lively, evidenced by the various bottles and half-consumed glasses already on the table. 

Jin is leaning back, looking exasperated, and Hobi is covering his mouth as he laughs, his face flushed from the drinks he’s clearly had more than a few of. And there’s a girl beside him, who you vaguely recognize as the same one from when you watched their rehearsals.

“Look who finally decided to show up!” Namjoon calls out, standing up to envelop you in a hug.

“The star has arrived,” you jest, doing a flower pose on your face. Hobi rises to give you a hug, then Jin follows suit. 

“This is Yunjin,” Hobi introduces the redhead beside him. “My lovely wife.”

Yunjin has the same megawatt smile to match Hobi’s. “Glad to meet you.”

“Good to meet you, too!” you say back as you hug.

“You clean up nice,” your best friend comments as you all settle back inside the booth. “When you’re not acting like a hermit in your condo.”

“I know,” you roll your eyes, surreptitiously scanning the vicinity. “Who else is coming?” you hope you’re not painfully obvious on who you were wishing would be there.

“Just us,” Joon side eyes you, before adding. “Yoongi-hyung just stepped away for a second.”

“Ah.” 

As if on cue, Yoongi steps into view.

And goddamn. Your brain corrupts for a moment, and you swear you hear soft K-drama OST music in the background.

He runs a hand through his hair as he surveys the room as if he has some invisible wind machine following him. He’s wearing a black blazer that fits perfectly over a simple white tank. There’s a flash of silver at his waist from his belt that hugs his light-wash jeans. A small pop of pink on his neck somehow softens the whole look, a cute touch.

He looks so effortlessly good it’s almost obnoxious. The thing is, you’re pretty sure he knows it. That smirk on his face is very telling.

“Hey, you made it,” he says quietly, sliding into the seat next to you as if he belongs there. He grabs the drink by your elbow to take a sip and you get a whiff of his scent—musky, woody, dangerous.

“Yeah,” you squeak, no clue how you will manage to act normally around him now, but a joke seemed appropriate. “Shit. Nobody said my ‘employer’ was gonna be here. Now I have to be on my best behavior.” You say to the others in a whisper.

“DON’T,” Yoongi groans, shaking his head, lower lip bitten in mock irritation.

The rest laugh at your exchange. Hobi slides a shot of whatever to you, and you take it, grateful.

“You missed a big reveal by the way,” Namjoon says. “Apparently, Jin-hyung has officially sworn off women for all eternity.”

Jin rolls his eyes. “Ha-ha. It’s called having a life outside of getting your dick wet, thank you very much. Not everyone needs to be a simp like you.”

“Who is it this time, Joonie?” You ask, taking a tiny sip from the shot glass.

“Soyeon.” Everyone says in chorus. Even Yoongi says it under his breath.

“Oh, god,” you breathe out. “You’re on again?”

Namjoon sighs, “I know, I know. She’s got me in a chokehold.”

Jin raises his drink. “To Namjoon-ah, the biggest simp we know.”

Namjoon shakes his head, laughing in defeat as everyone clinks glasses.

“…and to Seokjin being forever bitchless.” You add under your breath, exchanging giggles with Yunjin.

“Yah!” Jin shouts from his beer glass and you throw him a wink.

“Speaking of simping,” Hobi says, drawing out the word as he looks pointedly at Yoongi. 

“Hoba.” Yoongi warns. You’re curious now.

“The new songwriters Si-hyuk on-boarded from America. They saw you with Haneul. I heard them calling you a DILF.”

Hobi practically falls apart, laughing so hard he clutches his sides. Jin and Namjoon aren’t far behind, their cackling attracting stares from neighboring tables. Even Yoongi can’t fully suppress his grin, though he tries valiantly to play it off. You laugh along, but you feel your face heating up and you don’t know exactly why.

“So you already have an in,” Jin says, reaching over to give Yoongi a hearty slap on the back. “Even you could use a good distraction once in a while.”

“Hajimaaaa,” Yoongi complains, brushing off Jin’s grasp on his shoulder. “Hoba’s just making shit up.”

“I’m not lying!” Hobi raises his right hand up as if he’s swearing an oath. Then he mock-complains, “Nobody ever calls me a DILF.”

Yunjin elbows him on the stomach and Hobi splutters, as they start bickering playfully.

Then Namjoon turns his sights on you. “Hey y/n, you're a girl,” he starts and immediately, you know he is setting you up for something.

“Keen eye,” you deadpan, placing the shot glass on your lips.

“So,” Namjoon says, dimples deepening as he leans in, gestures to Yoongi, “objectively… is he?”

“Is he what?” you grit, but your eyes are screaming ‘Don’t you dare, Kim Namjoon. Don’t you fucking dare, you piece of shit.’

Namjoon raises his eyebrows, looking every bit the trouble-maker. “A DILF?”

Motherfucker.

You nearly choke on your drink, fighting the urge to strangle your best friend as his grin widens, clearly enjoying your discomfort. 

“You’re an asshole, objectively speaking. And I need a real drink if this is how tonight’s gonna go,” you down the entire shot before moving to slide out of the booth to escape before you’re forced to answer.

Yoongi moves out to give you space and decides, “I’ll go with you.” 

As you head toward the bar together, you feel the warmth of Yoongi’s hand on the small of your back. You chance a quick look back at Namjoon, who’s wearing an absolute shit-eating grin, clearly pleased with himself, like this has been his master plan all along—more than ten years in the making.

You decide to go to the bar outside. It’s quieter here and you also need the fresh air.

“Sorry about that…” Yoongi scratches the back of his neck.

“Oh please, no need to apologize for Namjoon’s dumb behavior.” You wave a hand, as if it’s really no big deal. But your insides are still churning.

“So who’s with Haneul tonight?” You ask as you perch on the bar stool.

“My eomma. She’s going to be staying in town for the next two weeks since it’s Han’s birthday.”

“Wow,” you say, excited. “What’s the plan?”

Yoongi shrugs. “Ah, something small. Just family, maybe a couple of friends. Nothing too big. He won’t even remember it.��

You laugh lightly. “Yeah, but you should be celebrating your first year as a dad, too.”

He smiles faintly at that, nodding. “Maybe. But I’m terrible at planning stuff like this. I was gonna keep it simple—a cake, some balloons, that’s it.”

“Well, if you need help, let me know,” you offer casually, trying to keep your tone light even as your stomach flutters at the thought of being part of something so special.

“You sure?”

“100%,” you say, nudging him lightly with your elbow. 

“I don’t want to impose, though. You already do so much.”

“You’re not imposing,” you reply firmly. “I want to help. Besides, I’m already halfway to being Han’s favorite person.”

“Halfway?” he repeats, huffing. “You’ve already taken that spot–100%.”

You grin, feeling your cheeks warm. “What can I say? I’m irresistible to one-year-olds.”

Yoongi’s still for a moment, his gaze lingering on you. There’s something thoughtful in his expression, before mumbling under his breath, “Maybe not just to one-year-olds.”

Eh?

But before you can say anything, he already gestures to call the bartender to take your drink orders.

You’re glad you went out tonight. It’s been a while since you had spent time with a group that made you feel so welcome. Despite the jovial mood you’re in, your social battery is definitely drained. Yoongi notices and asks if you want a ride home since he also needs to go for father duties. You both say your goodbyes and head to his car in the parking lot.

The drive is quiet but not awkward, the soft music filling the space between you during the quick drive to your apartment. When he pulls up in front of your place, you hesitate for a second, debating whether to invite him in. But then you remember the absolute disaster inside—clothes flung everywhere, shoes scattered, your makeup bag abandoned on the kitchen counter in your rush to get ready. Plus, you don’t even have a couch, so…

“Thanks for the ride,” you say, unbuckling your seatbelt. “I’d invite you in, but, uh… my place looks like a crime scene right now.”

He has a confused look on his face, so you explain, “Tried on half my closet before settling on this.”

His gaze sweeps over your outfit, but not in a way that feels invasive. If anything, he looks appreciative. “Worth it,” he says simply, and your heart does a somersault.

There’s a moment, a pause where you should say goodnight. Get out of the car. But something about the way Yoongi’s eyes are still on you makes your pulse quicken, and suddenly, it’s like the air between you feels heavier.

“Stay here,” he says softly, stepping out of the car and walking around to your side. He opens your door, his hand outstretched to help you out, and you take it, letting him guide you onto the sidewalk.

He doesn’t let go of your hand. The short walk up to your apartment feels longer than it should, yet you don’t want it to end.

When you reach your door, you turn to face him, suddenly unsure of what to say. “Well… goodnight, I guess.”

Yoongi hesitates for a moment, hand still lightly grasping yours. “I need to tell you something.”

“Okay…” Your throat felt dry saying that.

“I umm found Haneul a nanny. Youngbae-hyung recommended this agency they used to find theirs and I’ve signed on someone who’s starting soon.”

You’re a little shocked at the news. This is good though because Yoongi really needs a more reliable and constant solution to their caregiving needs. Despite the heavy feeling that has settled in your chest, you try to lighten the mood with a joke that doesn’t quite land, “Why does this feel like a break-up?”

Yoongi shakes his head, lips curved into a small smirk, as he tucks a stray hair behind your ear, “Not even close.” He releases a sigh. “Can I ask you something?”

“Sure,” you nod, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Can I kiss you goodnight?”

The question takes you by surprise, the vulnerability in his voice making your heart ache, but this time, in the best way. You nod, smiling softly. “Yeah. You can.”

He steps closer, his hand brushing lightly against your arm before tilting your chin up gently. The kiss is soft, tentative, like he’s savoring every second. You are, too. It’s just… sweet. Like a first kiss should be. Perfect.

When he pulls back, his forehead rests lightly against yours, and you can feel the warmth of his breath against your lips. For a moment, neither of you moves, like you can’t believe what just happened.

Yoongi’s eyes flutter shut as he confesses, “Is it bad that I want to do that again already?”

“No, ‘cause same…” Your hands reach out, grasping the lapels of his jacket, and you pull him back in.

Yoongi responds instantly, his hands sliding to your waist as he presses you gently against the wall, his warmth and weight upon you dangerously addictive. His tongue brushes yours, soft and slick, that spark of contact so electric that you feel yourself melting further into him. Your arms loop around his neck, bringing him closer, and when his lips part against yours, his teeth catch your bottom lip, sucking on it softly before letting it go. The sensation sends a shiver racing down your spine, and you can’t help the quiet moan that escapes you.

Your fingers tangle in his hair, threading through the silky strands before one hand slides down to find the belt loop of his jeans. You tug on it, pulling him impossibly closer, until there’s no space left between your bodies.

Yoongi groans against your mouth as your bodies collide, your chest against his, his leg in between your thighs, fitting into each other like tetris pieces. As your nails scratch the tufts of hair by his nape, a rumble, low and rough, escapes his throat, sending another wave of heat straight to your core. His hands grip your waist tighter, grounding you even as your world shifts.

When you finally pull back, your breaths come fast and uneven. His hair is slightly mussed from your fingers, his lips flushed and slightly parted, and he looks at you with a mix of wonder. You feel kind of proud, taking in his sexy, disheveled appearance.

“I really should’ve tidied up my place,” you murmur, your fingers still loosely hooked in his belt loop.

Yoongi blinks, dazed for a moment, before letting out a soft chuckle. “It’s fine. There will be other times.” His fingers brush against your shoulder as he gently hooks the strap of your top that had slipped down, carefully sliding it back into place.

“Other times, huh?” you tease.

He licks his kiss-bitten lip, smirks and says, “Good night.”

“Good night,” you reply as you watch him retreat down the hall.

“I’ll text you,” he calls over his shoulder before disappearing into the elevator, leaving you standing at your doorway, your lips still tingling and your heart on your sleeve.

You close the door, leaning back against it with a sigh.

That same night, you resolve to go to IKEA to finally buy a damn couch and a bedframe. You know, just in case. For those other times.

Yoongi: haneul says he misses you You: Oh, rly? He talks full sentences now? Yoongi: yes? You: I miss him, too. Yoongi: good. see u tomorrow? You: I’m so there, no question Yoongi: good night

Yoongi’s apartment is alive with energy, the living room transformed into a whimsical—but slightly chaotic—mix of cats and capybaras. It’s a theme that feels both playful and oddly fitting, a nod to Haneul’s love for capybaras (which you take full credit for) and Yoongi being a literal cat daddy. Yours, hopefully, but the thing is… it’s been awkward. At least for you.

You spent the morning hanging streamers, tying balloons, and carefully setting up the decorations while Yoongi grumbled about the sheer number of things to assemble.

At some point, Yoongi takes your hand and introduces you to his mom. Just your name—no label, no context, no indication of what you are to him beyond someone who is here, present, and involved. It had been a brief, polite exchange, but you couldn’t help the twinge of awkwardness that followed, even if Yoongi’s hand stayed clasped with yours and he may have dropped a chaste kiss on top of your head before he had to go say hi to other guests. 

Your relationship—or lack thereof—still feels undefined. You haven’t had the talk with Yoongi since that kiss after the night out. You’re in this off, lukewarm state, caught somewhere between the heat of semi-flirty late-night texts and the cold hard truth that he’s been too busy to really sit down and talk. With their comeback just weeks away, his rehearsals have been relentless, and you’ve told yourself not to take it personally. You know how this goes.

But still. Seeing him now, watching him laugh softly at something Namjoon said while adjusting Haneul’s tiny party hat, a knot twists in your stomach. You just don’t know how to properly operate in this space that’s in flux.

You shake the thoughts away, willing yourself to shelf the conversation for later. It’s Haneul’s day, you remind yourself. Whatever questions you have about you and Yoongi can wait.

“Noona, these cupcakes are so good!” Jungkook calls out, holding up one with a cat face on it.

“Thank you, Kook! Can’t take credit for them though. I just got them from a pastry shop near my place.”

“Still, you’ve got good taste,” he says, licking the frosting that makes up the cat’s tail.

Suddenly, the doorbell rings. Yoongi, closest to the door, moves to answer it. You don’t think much of it until you hear Yoongi’s voice croak. “What are you doing here?”

Curiosity piqued, you glance toward the doorway, and that’s when you see her.

Tall, gorgeous, and impossible to miss. Lee Sung Kyung steps inside, her polished, effortless elegance making her stand out. She barely spares a glance at anyone else, her focus entirely on Yoongi.

Your stomach drops. You have a bad feeling about this.

Namjoon is at your side in an instant, his voice low. “Hey… I think we need to talk.”

“What?” you ask, forcing a smile as you pick up a napkin, pretending to tidy the already-organized table. But your eyes are glued to the scene by the entrance, at Yoongi’s clenched jaw, and Sung Kyung’s outstretched arm.

You feel a little miffed that Namjoon takes you by the elbow, voice insistent as he says, “NOW.”

"Joon," You ask, mustering all your courage, even though you are terrified of the answer. "Who is she?"

"She's Lee Sung Kyung."

Your ears are ringing and you grit your teeth as you respond, "I fucking know her name." You repeat the question, slower, a little angrier. "Who. is. she."

Namjoon hesitates, his jaw tightening before he answers. “She’s Haneul’s mom.”

Part Three >

A/N: dun dun DUN. 🙉 I need y'all in the comments! <3 How are you feeling??? Feedback is super appreciated and helps keep my motivation high ✨

I am so excited to share part 3.

Hope you all are sattt 🪑

Thank you for reading, you lovely, beautiful human! 💜

& If you want to read more of my work, please check out my Masterlist

Taglist:

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@direnediane @glossdebut @maryhopemei @theresstardustinmyblood @mggv97

@wobblewobble822 @kam9404 @supernoonanyc @damn-u-min-yoongi @ot72025

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[obwjam]

Officially submitting a request for any ghostbusters gt or Jurassic Park gt one shot or even headcannons

okay so i've been working on this ghostbusters story for like a week and i just kept writing and writing and writing so this is super long, please accept my offering 🫴🫴🫴

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Really, it was just another day at the office. 

You, Ray and Egon? You were over in the lab, poring over red goo and test tubes and weird steam that had stumped you three for days. You knew this slime responded to human emotion in some way, but you just didn’t know quite what it did.

Winston? He was talking to Janine, trying to sort out next month’s schedule, papers falling from his arms as he tried to keep everything straight. 

And Venkman? He was sitting, legs crossed, feet up on the table, chomping down on a sandwich as he flicked through channels on TV. 

Typical Venkman, as far as you were concerned. 

“This doesn’t make any sense,” you sighed. “It’s just — it’s like — where are those lab notes from last week?”

Ray shrugged. “I dunno. Egon, have you seen Del’s papers?”

“Hm?” Egon finally answered after a full 30 seconds of silence. “Oh, uh. No. No, I haven’t, sorry.”

“You’re always losing things, aren’t you, newbie?”

Just the sound of his voice made your blood boil. “Alright, Venkman,” you rolled your eyes. “And I’m not a newbie. I’ve been here since February.”

“Yeah, yeah, talk to me when you save the world and blow up a giant marshmallow, okay?”

You groaned. “Does he have to be here?” you pleaded with your lab partners. 

“Of course he does, Del,” Ray said, eyes not once wavering from the experiment in front of him. 

“Just pretend he’s not here. That’s what I do,” Winston deadpanned as he whisked past you. 

“Love you too, buddy!” Venkman called out. 

“Okay, enough talking now, please,” you snipped. “This is confusing enough as it is—“

“Ray? Egon? There’s a gentleman from the Post who wants to speak with you both,” Janine ran into the room, almost out of breath. “And he won't go away.”

Ray and Egon looked at each other and shrugged. “Fine, tell him we’ll be there in five minutes,” Ray said. 

You watched in almost horror as the two unceremoniously left the room, leaving you alone with Venkman. Great. 

“So, egghead,” Venkman started, sandwich still in hand as he pushed himself up. You heaved another sigh. “What kind of nerdy fun do you get up to over here?”

“Not now, Venkman, please,” you begged. “This slime is serious stuff. And no food in the lab.”

“Psh. It’s not that serious. I’ve been slimed before. We all have.” He paused. “Well, almost all of us.”

You bit down on your tongue to keep from screaming. Peter didn’t want you here, that much was clear. He was perfectly comfortable with the four-man operation, and he strongly opposed your addition even when Egon and Ray begged for it. He eventually relented, but only because he knew it was a battle he couldn't win. You always figured he had it out for you so you’d be forced to quit on your own. The demeaning nicknames, the constant teasing, acting like you didn’t know what you were doing; you couldn’t take it much longer. 

“Well, this one is important,” you retorted. “It’s from that weird ass ghost we came across last week. The composition of this, it’s… different than the others.”

“Hm. Different how?”

You turned to him and glared. “That’s what I’m trying to figure out.”

He held his hands up in mock surrender. “Alright, alright, sheesh. No need to get snippy.”

“I have to get snippy when you won't listen.”

“Woah, hey, alright now. Is there a problem?”

“Yeah, there is!” you fumed. “You don’t want me here.”

“Oh, we’re just making stuff up now, are we? You know, just because you can’t instantly figure out the solution to a new problem doesn’t mean you can take it out on me!”

“This— this isn't about the slime!” you scoffed in surprise. “This is about you not respecting me here!”

As the bickering continued, neither of you noticed the way the goo began to jiggle and make strange gurgling noises. It only got louder as the arguing went on, until Venkman noticed it was emanating an eerie glow. 

“Uh, why is your goo glowing?”

“What are you talking about—” you started, but never got to finish. As soon as you turned and you both were looking at it, the light became blinding and filled the room. You and Venkman shut your eyes and covered your ears as a deafening whining filled both of your heads for the briefest of moments before it all came to a halt. 

When you opened your eyes, all you could see was white. You were sitting down, somehow, and you suddenly had a splitting headache that was definitely not there a second ago. 

“Ugh… what happened?” you mumbled. Your eyes widened at the weird sensation you felt when speaking — like you were alone in a sprawling field and all your words had floated out into the void, never to be heard by another living soul.  

“Venkman?” you tried. Nothing. It took a few seconds to blink away the residual light, but you finally managed to see straight again. A shiver ran down your spine as you adjusted your glasses. Why were you so cold?

As soon as you saw it, you knew. 

You had felt this weird looming sensation, so you spun around on your butt to see what was behind you. It wasn’t a person, or a ghost. It was a sandwich. Venkman’s sandwich. Which was now as tall as a house. 

You were on top of the table, and you were tiny. 

“Ho-ly shit…” you murmured, shakily pushing yourself back. Panic was beginning to set in as you took in the now-giant world around you. How was this even possible? Would your health be affected in any way? How were you going to fix this? You couldn’t let anyone see you like this!

“What did you do?!” a voice rang out from behind you. You groaned and turned around. Venkman had shrunk with you.

“What did I do? Are you kidding me? You’re gonna blame me for this?”

“I bet it was that freaking slime,” he muttered, already turning his attention away from you. His eyes darted around the table, which looked more like the Great Plains than a lab counter, to find where the goo you were observing was. He tried to pretend he wasn’t utterly freaked out when the tupperware container holding it came up to his neck.

“It’s like it’s laughing at us,” he sneered, observing the way the goo bounced up and down as he stood right over it.

Soon, you were standing right beside him. “You’re right. That’s…”

“...unusual?” he offered.

“Yeah, you could say that,” you began, “considering we’re FOUR INCHES TALL!”

“Maybe you shouldn’t have been messing with that stuff,” Venkman shrugged, slowly walking away from tupperware to the edge of the table.

Your eyes widened as he got closer to the ledge. “Venkman! Be careful!” 

“Come on, I’m not gonna… fall…”

In a rare moment, Venkman was speechless. The drop to the floor looked impossibly long – longer than the Grand Canyon, or the view from the top of the Empire State Building. No, this was a longer drop than he had ever experienced in his life.

“That’s… pretty far,” he confessed, voice lacking his characteristic wit. Also at a loss for words as you stared straight down, you simply nodded. 

“God, that guy was such a hack, wasn’t he?”

Your eyes blew wide. No, they couldn’t be back so soon…

“I hate reporters. Always making me feel like I’m doing something illegal.” Egon snickered. “Or that I got caught.”

You were frozen. This was the absolute worst-case scenario. Not only were you stuck with Venkman down here, but now you had to deal with two scientists you had only looked up to figuratively. They had to see how you had failed.

“RAY! SPENGLER! DOWN HERE!” 

You cringed. It felt so counterintuitive to yell, but Venkman wanted this fixed and fixed fast.

He began waving his arms around frantically. “STANZ! SPENGLER!”

The giant Ghostbusters paused. “Do you hear something, Ray?”

“I was just about to ask you the same thing.”

“It sounds like it’s–”

“–coming from the table,” they said in unison. It didn’t take long for their eyes to find you.

“Oh… my…” Ray couldn’t even finish his sentence. He took cautious steps forward, slowly leaning down as he did so. You shrunk back.

“Venkman? Del? What–what happened?”

The words got caught in your throat as his gigantic face settled in front of you. He was so unbelievably huge, and his size filled you with a sense of unavoidable dread.

“Oh, thank god,” Venkman sighed. “Look, you guys have to bail us out. I’m positive that this slime you guys were messing with did this to us.” 

Egon and Ray were beside themselves. The square-cube law didn’t allow for this! How could this have happened? Well, they supposed, anything can happen when ghosts are involved.

“Uh… guys? You can see us, right?” 

You and Venkman exchanged an unnerved glance that said I’m pretty freaked out that they keep staring.

Cautiously, Egon stuck his finger out and was halfway to poking Venkman before his face twisted into anger and he sidestepped. “Spengler!” he cried. “What the hell do you think you’re doing!”

Egon pulled his finger back, unfazed by Venkman’s annoyance. “Oh, wow. It’s real, Ray.”

“This… this is incredible. Simply incredible!” Ray’s booming voice marveled. You winced at the volume. “I mean, this is a game-changer! Slime that not only responds to human emotions, but can alter their physical body in ways we – we didn’t even think were possible! I can’t believe this, I…”

Ray trailed off when he finally locked eyes with your trembling form. Sure, he was excited – he knew you understood that – but what he didn’t understand was just how scary this must be for you. To suddenly have your autonomy taken away from you… being loomed over and stared at by beings fifty times your size… it had to be no less than utterly overwhelming.

Venkman rolled his eyes. “You two can ogle at us later, after you find a way to fix this.”

“Sorry, Peter, you’re going to have to speak up,” Egon said, leaning in closer. Your eyes grew wider than you thought was possible, and one shaky step backwards to get away from his pinning gaze sent you tumbling to the ground. 

“Egon!” Ray gasped, pushing his friend back. “Del, are you alright?”

Sheepishly, you nodded. 

“Sorry, Del,” Egon said, concern all over his face. “I suppose I’m going to have to make a few adjustments to the way we interact.”

“Gee, you think?!” Venkman cried in exasperation. “We’re tiny, you’re huge. There, I think that settles it!”

“Calm down, Peter,” Egon chided with the tone of a concerned father. “Look, we’re going to have to run a few tests to see how—”

“No!” you piped up, surprising everyone, including yourself. You cleared your throat as your eyes darted from Ghostbuster to Ghostbuster. “I mean… you guys are gonna have to give us a little bit to, you know… process all of this.” You eyed Venkman. “Back me up here…”

Peter shrugged. “Yeah, what Del said.”

You groaned. “Thanks for the help.”

“Del’s right,” Ray agreed, turning to Egon. “Right now, we can just… ask them how they feel. Besides, we have to re-calibrate all of our equipment and cancel all our appointments until we can get this sorted out.”

After a moment of thinking, Egon nodded. Even though he still thought the best way to solve this was to run as many tests as possible, he understood the need for space.

In a shaking voice, you recounted the events leading up to the shrinking and how you felt now – overall normal, just overwhelmed and a little cold.

“Well, that makes complete sense. Your bodies are so small that the amount of heat you lose proportional to your height is faster than you can generate.” 

“Oh, great, so we’ll freeze to death?”

Ray hesitated. “Well… all science points to yes, but you told me you feel completely normal.”

“So far,” Venkman grumbled.

“And nothing is darker?”

You both shook your heads.

“Fascinating. It was always theorized that the smaller you get, the less light your eyes would be able to process, therefore the world would appear darker.”

“I mean… I guess it’s darker,” you admitted. “But not by much.”

“Incredible. So basically, everything we’ve ever posited would happen if humans were shrunk… isn’t happening to you at all. I’m surprised we can even hear you talking, to be honest.”

The longer this Q&A went on, though, the more tired you grew, and Ray noticed. Truthfully, he always had a soft spot for you, which is why he lobbied heavily to bring you on board in the first place. You were the top of your class at NYU in biochemistry, not to mention you were passionate about helping others in any way you could. He could barely stand watching you cower away from the world you loved and have dedicated your life to understanding. 

“Guys?” Winston’s voice rang from the back of the room, finally back from sorting out the schedule. He wasn’t going to be happy that all his hard work was about to go to waste. “Who are we… talking… to.”

As soon as he joined the fray, it became too much for you. “I… I… I can’t do this,” you sniffed, the first tear finally breaking free. “I – this is crazy.”

“Del? Are you okay?” Ray asked, sorrow written all over his face. A rather unfamiliar feeling suddenly washed over him – he wanted to scoop you up, hold you close and reassure you that everything would be alright.

“They don’t look okay,” Winston replied, his wide eyes fixated on you.

It was like the worst kind of judgment day you could imagine; like you were in trouble at school and everyone was in on it, or being scolded by your parents all over again. Three people you considered to be your family were now unfathomably large, and right now, there was no end in sight. Were you going to have to look up at them forever? Have them cart you around wherever you wanted to go? How were you going to shower?

“Del–” Egon started, but it was too late. Now furiously wiping away tears, you ran toward what you perceived to be an amorphous blob of technology behind you and disappeared around the back of what was, ironically, a microscope.

You instantly dropped to the ground, folding your knees into your chest and tucking them in tight. Right now, you wanted nothing more than to be left alone for the next several hours.

You wouldn’t even get a few minutes.

“You know, we’re going to need them if we ever want to get back to normal.”

You wiped your eyes and sniffed. “I don’t really want to talk right now, Venkman.”

Instead of the usual quick-witted comeback, Venkman took a seat next to you, stretching out his legs, as if that would make him taller again. There was a rare comfortable silence between you.

“Did you know I got fired from Columbia?” he said suddenly, unprompted. 

You looked at him in surprise. “Uhm – no. No, I didn’t, actually.”

“It was a while ago. Heck, it’s what inspired us to start the Ghostbusters in the first place.”

You sniffed a laugh. “I didn’t even know you worked at Columbia.”

“What, is that so hard to imagine?”

“...Yes. Yes it is. What were you, a professor of laziness?”

“If ‘laziness’ gets you PhDs in parapsychology and psychology, then, yes.”

At that, you had to laugh. “I think you’re making that up.”

Venkman feigned offense. “Ask Ray and Egon! They wouldn’t lie to you.”

“Maybe if they weren’t a hundred feet tall and could crush me in an instant, I would.”

You hadn’t meant to let that slip, but you also didn’t regret saying it.

Venkman sighed, but it wasn’t out of annoyance. It was out of… concern? 

“Look, kid.” That was the first time he had ever called you that. “This is weird as all hell, don’t think I don’t agree with you on that. All I’m saying is… all of us, we’ve fucked up before. Massively. This… this isn’t your fault, you know, right?”

“Are you trying to make me feel better?”

“Is it working?”

You wanted to say no, to keep snapping at him and telegraphing just how awful he usually made you feel. But right now… you weren’t feeling that. Maybe you just didn’t have the energy. He was probably just trying to cheer you up out of sheer necessity.

“Maybe,” you said. “Maybe not.”

Venkman shook his head. “You’re one impossible kid to please, you know that?”

Somehow, that response didn’t make your insides boil up with anger. Instead, you smiled.

“Should… should we check on them?” Egon asked, still staring straight at the microscope. 

Winston shook his head. “Give ‘em time.”

Sure enough, a few moments later, you and Venkman emerged from your hiding spot. Venkman didn’t seem to have a problem staring up at his longtime friends, but for you, it was still too difficult and too weird. You kept your eyes trained in front of you, nervously wringing your hands together.

Venkman clapped his hands. “So! You guys come up with a brilliant plan to get us back to normal yet?”

Ray, Egon and Winston exchanged glances. 

Ray ventured to speak first. “Well… truthfully…”

“We have no idea how long it would take,” Egon interrupted. “Or if we even can do it.”

“Nope, I won’t have any of that quitter talk,” Venkman said a little too quickly. “Can’t you see how much that would upset Del?”

All eyes fell on you. You squeezed your hand harder.

“Venkman’s right,” Ray declared. “We have to try everything we can. Exhaust every avenue! We won’t stop until you two are back to normal.”

“...I can help,” you said meekly, almost too quietly to hear. “I mean, I was studying that stuff for days, and I’m the one it zapped. I should be able to–”

“–no, Del, you can’t,” Ray said suddenly. At that, you finally mustered up the courage to look at him. He looked stressed. “It’s too dangerous, and you’re too small. What if you get hurt?”

You felt your face get hot. “Then I’ll deal with it! I–”

“I think we all need a break,” Winston stated in that firm, authoritative voice of his. When the other Ghostbusters failed to think straight, he was always there to pick them up. “Maybe we can deal with this in the morning, alright?”

Everyone nodded in unison. Winston was usually right about these kinds of things, and he knew it.

“Well, I’m goin’ home and getting some rest. Maybe now that Venkman’s so small, we won’t have to hear his yapping all day.”

Peter frowned. “Ha ha.”

Suddenly, you heard a soft voice right next to you. “Hey,” Winston practically whispered, marveling at just how small you were. He wanted to be comforting, but truthfully, he didn’t know how much words would help. “Hang in there, alright? You just let me know if you need a break from these yahoos.”

The way you gaped back at Winston, so impossibly large when situated right next to you, he wasn’t surprised that all you gave him in response was a nod. The small smile he gave you was reassuring, but it was hard to keep your breath from hitching when he stretched back up to his full height and left the room. 

That left the four of you.

“If you three don’t mind, I need to go over Del’s lab notes and start modifying our equipment,” Egon said, eyeing the array of instruments at the corner table. “Or, Venkman, perhaps you’d like to come with me–”

Venkman was quick to refuse. “Nope, nooooope, nuh-uh. I’m not climbing into anyone’s sweaty hand. Just… bring me food and a blanket, I’ll make do on the table.”

Egon couldn’t suppress his smile at how adorable tiny Venkman was. “Alright, camper.”

Venkman furrowed his brow. “Don’t smile! This is not amusing!”

“Maybe not for you,” Egon deadpanned, laughing at the death stare Venkman gave him as he walked away. You don’t think you would get used to the feeling of watching your friends walk around a giant room, taking mere seconds to cover ground that would have taken you forever.

You finally noticed that Ray was eyeing you, but with a different look. Was he… nervous? 

“Del…” he started, unsure of how to ask this. “Why don’t you – um, if you don’t mind–”

“Oh, this is embarrassing,” Venkman muttered.

Instead of bothering to finish his unsalvageable sentence, he sucked in a breath and put his hand, palm-up, down onto the table a few inches from where you stood. You gulped and stepped back, not prepared for just how massive it was going to look.

“Why don’t you come with me and get some supplies for you and Venkman?” he finally asked. “Nobody knows what you two need more right now than you.”

Every one of your basic instincts told you not to get on his hand; no, don’t even go near it. He won’t even be able to feel you in his palm. He would forget that you’re there, close his hand, tip it down, crush you, drop you…

But this was Ray. The guy who believed in you from the very start, who you had connected with almost instantly. Whether you liked it or not, you had to rely on him now – hell, you had to rely on all of them. You were a team, after all. A famous, ghost-hunting, rag-tag team that you spent every waking hour with… and you wouldn’t want it any other way.

To Venkman’s surprise, it only took you a few moments of deliberation before deciding to climb onto the hand. You hoisted yourself up like you were situating yourself on a boat – more like a lifeboat, in this scenario. You didn’t really know how to sit, or what would be more comfortable, but you supposed you had all the time in the world to figure it out.

Above you, Ray smiled. He wanted nothing more than to fix you, but damn it if you weren’t absolutely adorable at four inches tall.

“Ready?” he asked, consciously keeping his voice low.

You took a deep breath. “Yeah. Let’s do this.”

“Enjoy the ride!” Venkman called out, waving to you as you were lifted into the air.

“Try not to get jealous!” you grinned back, adrenaline coursing through you. It was the first time you felt like joking all day.

“Trust me, I’m good down here,” Venkman said, before muttering to himself, “for now.”

Ray beamed down at you, and you gave him a wary smile back. This was uncharted territory for any human in recorded history, but you had the Ghostbusters. You were going to be okay.

[literallygwenstacy]

Thinking about how Miles will sometimes get his phone out and take a pic of Gwen whenever she laughs around him (secretly ofc), then stare at it back home for a while afterwards thinking to himself “gosh she’s so freaking cute”

[everypanelofizuku]

Chapter 106 - Class 1-A

[10-dutchies-12-bicycles]

welp. starting off my birthday by holding a funeral for my oldest houseplant(s)

[solar-eclipsed]

How could anyone possibly be normal about One Piece. They all love each other so much. I love all of the straw hats. So much. I’m so fond of them I’m going to be sick. Ohhh my godddddddddddd

[sleepy-crypt1d]

am i?? losing my mind here??

okay, so, like, subnautica, right?

recent news is that subnautica 3 is in production/in the works, hooray!! literally cannot be more excited about this, it’s my favorite game ever and i am so thrilled to see where the next one is headed but, i feel like, what the next one is going to be about is. . obvious?

who knows!! maybe im losing my mind here and i am just a tad too into these games so other people didn’t think about this but, sub3 is gonna be about the architect home planet. it has to be, doesn’t it?? 

the exact quote from the people working on the game is “I dream of visiting new worlds, exploring intricate alien ecosystems and lost civilizations. I don't think I'll ever get tired of the fantasy of making contact with intelligent life. I also dream about going on these adventures with friends. Getting lost, together.” and people are theorizing that the game takes place either in the past, showing 4546B a thousand years ago, takes place in the crater’s edge, or another unseen part of 4546B but. . .4546B’s story is done? the only loose end there is Ryley, who i would love to see again, but the planet’s mysterious have all been answered? i don’t know how they are coming to those conclusions when BZ perfectly sets up what the next game will be about?

“I dream of visiting new worlds, exploring intricate alien ecosystems and lost civilizations” this??? seems so much like they’re talking about exploring the architect homeworld??? new worlds implies we’re going to a different place, doesn’t it? and lost civilizations, yeah, going through the arc homeworld and piecing together what happened??

“I also dream about going on these adventures with friends. Getting lost, together.” some people are interpreting this as sub3 going multiplayer, which would be okay i guess, but wouldn’t this make more sense if it were referencing Al-An and robin???? especially with the line BZ ends with?? ‘with you, I am ready to face whatever awaits us’ like???

also the second game ended with a cliff hanger!!! it ended with showing us the architect homeworld!!! WHY WOULDN’T SUB3 BE ABOUT THAT???? WHY WOULD THEY SUDDENLY SHIFT THE STORY ENTIRELY??

i dont know, maybe im losing my mind here, maybe theorists on youtube know something i don’t but the plot of sub3 seems obvious to me, because BZ literally ended with showing us where the story was headed.

am i crazy? or have other people also realized that exploring the architect homeworld seems like the only logical next step in the story? to find out what happened? we found out what happened to sam and the game ends with robin promising they’ll find out what happened to the architects. why are people thinking ANYTHING ELSE would happen????

who knows, if sub3 comes out and im completely wrong, i will take that L and dig myself a grave but until then, i will hold this thought pretty confidently 

[heart-shaped-chains]

Need a guy to love on and hug and cuddle and whisper sweet nothings into his ear and more

[aberooski]

Oh no... Syrus and Hassleberry's "best friend" rivalry.... it begins.....

[hamletisintown]

I'm so fucking annoyed at the number of english-speaking hoyoverse players who play with the japanese subtitles

I'm only speaking about like, streamers and youtubers because those are the ones i see playing, obviously (and i'm only talking about genshin impact and honkai star rail bc those are the 2 hoyo games i play but i'm willing to bet the trend is the same in other hoyo games, and possibly in other chinese "anime" games)

The number of times i click on a video and the person speaks english but has their game set to japanese dubbing for no reason, like. Can you guys stop being weebs for just one second please.

[seeyouonceinabluemoon]

pls tell your friends that you love them. out loud. or ig in messages but still worded. i love you. tell them that you mfers

have battles of i love you more's and put it after your good night texts. are your friends loved? yes? are they loved by you? yes? do you love your friends? yes? then tell them that

love doesnt have to be romantic or exclusive to a significant other or only towards one person. and some people will deeply appreciate being told that you love them, some will really need to hear it.

add it to your thank you's and add it to your sleep well's and just tell them that when you feel like it. but please do tell them. some people are 100% aware of the love they receive from their friends but some arent, and being open with your affection is, like, a really good way to show your friends how much you love them.

[magpieddd]

Generally as a rule of thumb i think I'm lame and boring an unoriginal but from time to time the clouds dissipate from my mind and i come to the realization that I'm actually extremely cool and interesting and special. Wish I remembered that and didn't have to rediscover those feelings every two weeks

[boywifesammy]

supernatural is like a little prion causing havoc in my brain lobes, and i just kick my feet up and pick up my phone to make my silly little posts about those fucked up homoerotic brothers as if they aren’t chewing on my neuronal connections.

[afoolishpoet]

FIRST it was yoongi, okay understandable, he's everybody's type.

THEN came yeonjun, along with the whole of txt, officialy wrecking me for like.

I thought my simping list would be over at that, right?

APPARENTLY NOT.

CUE LEE KNOW MAKING HIS WAY INTO MY LIST AS IF HE BELONGS THERE (which he does) ALL BECAUSE I SAW A VIDEO OF HIM BEING A SARCASTIC AND CUTE LITTLE SHIT.

and now i can't live in denial anymore. I do have a type. Wow. Congrats on that realization.

I've come a long way from being someone who swore to herself she would never simp for any korean related thing.

[ben-the-hyena]

James Cameron confirmed Jake Sully won't be the narrator anymore

I think it means what it means

[arundolyn]

ty for posting about how good condemnation wings is in that one spotify wrapped post because i had been sleeping on the blazblue soundtrack for so long and it was what gave me the push to check it out some more. as a result i have had condemnation wings in my head for the past 2 days. i appreciate this greatly.

ITS LITERALLY LIKE. i genuinely cannot pick a favorite favorite of the blazblue ost. discounting the IIs theres genuinely so few that i dislike that it's basically zero. daisuke does not fucking miss. please listen to imperial code. and memory of tears. maybe childish killer. honestly any and all tsubaki themes slap so hard justice sword and inJUSTICE are also bops in this essay i will-