#RM birthday | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

bts-trans · 4 months ago

Text

240912 Weverse Translation

RM's Post ❇️

안녕 사랑하고 사랑하는 여러분! 저 서른이네요. (벌써..)

스스로조차도 종종 하잘것없다 느꼈던 이 날에 진심을 꾹꾹 눌러담은 축하를 보내주셔서 너무나 고마워요. 덕분에 잘 버티고 있다는 거. 알고 계시죠? 불가에 이런 말이 있습니다. '너는 오직 너 스스로를 등불 삼아 의지하며 살라.' 멀고 먼 화천에서 마음이 위태롭거나 이유없이 분노가 치밀 때면 이 말을 떠올립니다. 지금 이 순간 해버리고 싶은 말들이 많지만 오늘은 대신 인스타에 올리는 사진 몇 장으로 대신할까 하여요. RPWP(혹은 그 다큐멘터리ㅡ)처럼 더 아름답고 멋진 방식으로 토로할 때와 장소가 반드시 있겠죠. 지금 여기가 아닌 곳. 제 군생활은 이제 반환점을 돌았습니다. 논산 훈련소에서 3km 뜀걸음을 할 때마다 숨이 턱까지 차오르던 그 반환점이네요. 무상하죠. 눈이 쏟아지고 해가 바뀌고 날이 또 따스해지고 벚꽃이 핀 다음에 그 다음에 씩씩하게 찾아뵐게요. 좋은 날, 좋은 말들과 좋은 마음 부디 건강만 하셔요. 사랑합니다 (https://weverse.io/bts/artist/4-178740527)

Hello My dear, beloved people! I've turned thirty. (already..)

On a day when I often feel insignificant, I'm so grateful to you for sending me your wishes, so full of sincerity. I'm able to endure thanks to you. You know that, right?

There is a saying in Buddhism. 'Be a lamp unto yourself, be a refuge to yourself.'

Here, far away in Hwacheon, when my heart feels unstable, or fills up with rage for no reason, I think of these words.

In this moment, there are a lot of things I want to just let out and say. But for today, I think I'll post a few pictures to Instagram instead.

Just like RPWP (or its documentary), there will no doubt be a time and place for me to speak my mind in nicer, more beautiful ways. A place that's not here or now.

I have now reached the halfway point of my military service. It's just like the halfway point of the 3km run we do at the Nonsan training camp -the point where I'm gasping for air. Absurd, isn't it?

After the snow falls, the year changes, the weather becomes warmer again, and the cherry blossoms bloom; After that, I will come to you, full of life.

Good days, good words, and good hearts Please stay healthy. I love you.

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

#240912 #weverse #translation #namjoon #rm #letter #another one of namjoons beautiful letters #wonderful #birthday post #happy birthday namjoon #bts #bangtan

249 notes · View notes

mylovesstuffs · 24 days ago

Text

FRI(END)S - Kim Taehyung

Genre: Non-idol au, bestfriends to lovers and romance

Pairing: Taehyung × fem!reader

Content: Love, comfort, slightest bit of angst, mutual pining, best friends in love, confession scene, domestic setting, fluff , bestfriend!taehyung, kiss and sweet physical intimacy (non-explicit)

Content Warning: Emotional vulnerability (e.g., fear of rejection, discussing insecurities), mild angst (e.g., tension in the confession scene, fear of losing the friendship), other than these there's no explicit content or heavy themes requiring further warnings

Word count: 2.04k+

A/N: Happiest birthday to our winter bear 🐻 we love you so much! I hope he's doing well in the military. I wonder if Jin and J-Hope will visit Tannies today. Also, I've made Joshua's oneshot for his birthday too so check that out as well.

And you were there on my lonely nights keeping me together, so wouldn't it make sense if I was yours and you could call me your baby? But we say we're just friends...just for now

You were no stranger to this room—the familiar scent of sandalwood mixed with hints of citrus lingered in the air. Taehyung had a thing for candles, and his apartment reflected that in abundance. Still, you hadn’t expected to find yourself here again, tucked under his favorite beige blanket while he strummed absentmindedly humming a tune that had yet to find its lyrics.

Your weekend plans were supposed to include lounging in your sweats, binge-watching some show you’d forgotten the name of. But one text—

“Come over, love.”

—and you were already slipping on your shoes and heading to his place.

It had always been like this with Taehyung. He was your best friend, your partner-in-crime, your favorite constant since 2009, when you first met in your awkward teenage glory. But somewhere along the way, lines had blurred, and your heart had started to ache in ways that best friends’ hearts shouldn’t.

“Why are you staring at me like that?” he asked, pulling you out of your thoughts.

You blinked, realizing your eyes had been fixed on the curve of his lips as he sang softly. He stopped playing and tilted his head, those dark brown eyes searching yours.

“I wasn’t staring,” you said defensively,“Your voice was just…nice.”

His brows raised, a playful smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Nice? That’s all I get? Should I be offended?”

“Fine,” you huffed, crossing your arms. “Your voice is stupidly amazing. Happy now?”

He chuckled, a sound that wrapped around you like a warm hug. “Much better.”

The evening rolled on like it always did between you two. Comfortable. Easy. He made you tea while you ranted about your coworkers, calling one of them a "walking HR violation," which made him nearly choke on his laughter. It was moments like these—normal, mundane moments—that always made you question how this wasn’t something more.

When he returned with your tea, he sat beside you, closer than necessary but not close enough to feel like too much. His knee bumped yours, and neither of you moved away. He sipped his tea quietly, but his eyes lingered on you as you spoke. You always had his full attention.

“You know,” he began after a moment, his voice soft yet tinged with something you couldn’t quite place, “you really should stop wasting your energy on them. They don’t deserve you.”

You rolled your eyes, smiling despite yourself. “You always say that.”

“Because it’s true,” he countered, leaning back against the couch but never breaking his gaze. “You’re too good for people like that. Too good for a lot of things, actually.”

You raised an eyebrow, your lips twitching in amusement. “Careful, Tae. People might think you actually like me or something.”

He didn’t laugh. Instead, his expression softened, his smile faltering just so slightly, and the air between you shifted. “What if I do?”

You blinked, caught off guard by the weight in his tone and not processing what he had just said. “Huh?”

“What if I do?” he repeated, his voice steadier this time but still so tender, “Like you. What if I’ve liked you all along?”

You stared at him, the tea in your hands growing colder by the second as you tried to process his words. “Tae…”

“Why do you always show up when I call?” he followed up to maybe urge you to think, there's no teasing edge to his voice.

“Now, what kind of question is that? You’re my best friend, Tae...Of course, I’m going to show up.”

He set his mug down with a sigh. His fingers fidgeted with the hem of his sweater—a tell you’d learned meant he was nervous and slightly frustrated. “That’s the thing,” he said, his eyes meeting yours. “You’re always here. And I’m always calling you because I—” He stopped, running a hand through his hair as if searching for the right words, “I don’t think I want to just be your best friend anymore.”

You blinked at him, unsure if you’d heard him right again—questioning your hearing ability, “What?”

“You don’t have to say anything,” his hand reaching out to brush a stray strand of hair from your face. The touch was light, fleeting, but it sent a warmth through you that had nothing to do with the tea. “I just… I need you to know. You’ve always been there for me, even when no one else was. And I can’t keep pretending that this—us—feels like just friendship.”

Your breath hitched as his words sank in. You wanted to say something, to tell him you felt the same, but the lump in your throat wouldn’t let you.

“I know it’s scary,” he continued, his hand lingering near your face before he pulled it back, resting it on his knee. “And I know it could change everything. But doesn’t it make sense? After all these years, after everything… doesn’t it make sense for us to be more?”

You want to tell him that it does make sense, it always has but nothing comes out of your mouth.

After you don't say anything at all, he let out a nervous laugh, shaking his head. “Forget I said anything—”

“No,” this time you voiced out interrupting him, now placing your mug down too and leaning closer. “Say it again.”

Shocked, his eyes searched yours, filled with a mixture of fear and hope. “I don’t want to be just friends anymore. I don’t think I’ve wanted that for a long time.”

Then the room fell silent, the weight of his final confession settling like a soft, undeniable truth in the air. Your heart pounded in your chest, each beat echoing in the quiet room. His words replayed in your mind, intertwining with memories of the past—every stolen glance, every touch that seemed to hold a deeper meaning, every late-night conversation that left you wondering what if. You thought of those moments when the lines between friendship and something more blurred so effortlessly, leaving you breathless and confused. Now, with his words hanging between you, it all made sense—every laugh, every comfort he offered on your loneliest days, every unspoken feeling tucked into the corners of your shared history. And suddenly, the weight of it wasn’t heavy at all. It felt like coming home.

“Tae,” you whispered, tears stinging your eyes.

“Why are you crying?” he asked softly, concern etched across his face.

“Because I’m an idiot,” you said, letting out a watery laugh. “I’ve felt the same way, but I was too scared to say anything.”

He stared at you, his lips parting slightly as if trying to process your words. Then, in one swift movement, he closed the distance between you, pulling you into a hug so tight it felt like he was trying to hold you together from breaking.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” he murmured against your hair, his voice breaking slightly.

“Because I was afraid that my feelings won't be reciprocated, you'll drift away,” you admitted, your hands clutching the back of his sweater. “I didn't want to lose you.”

“You could never lose me,” he said firmly, pulling back just enough to cup your face in his hands. His thumbs brushed away the tears streaming down your cheeks. “Not in this lifetime, love.”

Love.

His gaze flicked to your lips, and for a moment, time seemed to stop. Then, with a soft, “Can I?” he leaned in, pressing his lips to yours in a kiss that was everything you hadn’t known you’d been waiting for.

It was warm and gentle, like a promise whispered in the quiet of dawn—a promise that neither of you had spoken aloud, but both had been carrying in your hearts for years. His hands cradled your cheeks with a tenderness that made your chest ache, the pads of his thumbs brushing against your skin to reassure himself that this moment was real. He held you close, but not too tight, as if giving you room to pull away if you wanted. You didn’t pull away. You couldn’t. Instead, you leaned into him, your heart racing yet somehow feeling entirely at peace. Your fingers found their way to his hair, threading through the soft, messy strands. The texture of it under your fingertips, the subtle way he shivered at your touch, sent warmth coursing through you.

You tugged him closer, closing the last fragile inches between you until there was no space left, no room for doubt or hesitation. His lips moved against yours slowly, unhurried, as if he had all the time in the world to memorize the shape of you. Every touch felt deliberate, every movement careful, pouring years of unspoken feelings into this one kiss.

It was vulnerable not desperate. His breath mingled with yours, shaky and uneven, but it made you feel grounded, like you belonged right there in his arms. The world outside ceased to exist, leaving only the quiet hum of his presence, the soft brush of his lips, and the steady thrum of your heartbeat that seemed to echo his own.

When he finally pulled back, just an inch, his forehead rested against yours. His breathing was ragged, his gaze still heavy-lidded and vulnerable. But the way he looked at you—made you feel like the most loved person in the world.

“So,” he said, a small smile playing on his lips, “does this mean we’re putting the end in friends?”

You laughed, swatting his arm lightly. “That was terrible.”

“Yeah, but it made you laugh,” he said, grinning.

Later that night, after he’d handed you a bouquet of flowers he’d somehow hidden in his kitchen, because of course, the hopeless romantic that he was—you found yourself back on his couch. His arm was draped lazily over your shoulders, pulling you just close enough that you could feel the warmth of his body pressing into yours.

The room was dimly lit, the soft glow of a single lamp casting golden hues across his sharp features. His thumb traced absentminded circles over your shoulder, sending gentle sparks up your spine. You tilted your head to glance at him, and the smile on his lips was crooked, almost shy and then his boxy smile, but his eyes told a different story, a gaze so deep and intent that it left you breathless.

“You’re staring,” you teased softly, though your own eyes lingered far longer than than him.

“Can you blame me?” he murmured, his voice low and warm, tinged with that deep timbre that always seemed to melt you.

You felt your cheeks heat under the weight of his gaze, and before you could respond, he leaned in, his nose brushing against yours in a touch so soft it almost wasn’t there. His free hand moved to your knee, his fingers resting lightly but firmly, like he was testing the waters.

“Taehyung,” you whispered, his name falling from your lips like a secret you weren’t sure you were supposed to say.

He chuckled quietly, the sound rumbling against your skin as he shifted just a little closer. “Hmm?”

“I can hear your heart racing,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Oh, it’s racing,” he admitted, his smile widening just enough to make your stomach flutter. “But so is yours.”

His words hung in the air, a quiet challenge wrapped in sweetness, and without thinking, you leaned into him, resting your head against his chest. His heartbeat was steady, grounding, and as you closed your eyes, his lips pressed a feather-light kiss to your hairline.

“You know,” he began softly, his voice dripping with a teasing undertone, “I think I’m going to keep hiding flowers around the house. Just so I have an excuse to see that look on your face again.”

You laughed, your voice muffled against his shirt, and he tightened his hold on you, “that's ridiculous.”

“Is it? I think you'll love it every time,” he countered, grinning as his hand slid to gently tilt your chin up, his eyes locked on yours. You didn’t deny it. How could you, when being there, wrapped in his arms, felt like the most natural thing in the world?

Friends don't say words that make friends feel like more than just friends, just for now...now I'm over pretending, so let's put the end in friends ~ FRI(END)S

54 notes · View notes