#angry at self for being angry at self and instead wanting to be indifferent like I’d practiced

[priest-iuput]

Sick with anticipation. Just when you think it’s four blocks behind you… it sneaks through the shady lane and chokes you, still from behind

And so very pathetic is the reason

Hey now

[goldfades]

𝐁𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐍 𝐌𝐄? ─ PB⁵

౨ৎ ─ summary | request -> "Omg a fic where Paige and reader have always had this sort of sarcastic bickering borderline mean type of relationship/rivalry but one day the tension suddenly just goes from competitive to sexual and thennnnm ykkkk"

─ word count | 3.7k

─ warnings | NSFW under the cut, read at your own discretion! whoo, where do i begin???? paige/reader being a fucking ASSES (like super mean) and lots of insecurity, cc mention and comparison (pls don't come 4 me it's for the plot!!!!!! i didnt mean it!!!!), lots of arguing and fighting, mean!paige (like.... im talking MEAN), fingering (r receiving), so much dirty talk, idk if i missed anything lmk

─ ev's notes | the chokehold the pic in the middle has on me IS INSANE, also finishing a smut at 11 am should be a crime 😭 (but i’m feeding yall so be grateful)

THE GAME COULDN'T have gone worse.

The opposing team seemed to effortlessly dominate every aspect of the game. Shots that normally found their mark clanked off the rim, passes were intercepted with unnerving frequency, and the defense resembled more of a sieve than a fortress. Your entire team was quiet in the locker-room and Geno had told them that they needed the night to regroup, and they'll talk about it when they got home.

You made your way upstairs with Azzi and Aubrey, both trying their best to make you feel better. You played like shit, plain and simple and despite what your teammates were telling you, it was true.

You couldn't shake off the feeling of letting your team down. In the game, you were a shadow of your usual self. Your shots seemed to lack both the usual power and precision. Your attempts to drive to the basket were easily thrown by their defense, leaving you frustrated and angry.

Even your usually reliable defense broke under the pressure. You found yourself out of position more often than not, leaving gaping holes for the opposing team to exploit. Your reactions were slow, your movements sluggish, as if your body refused to respond to the commands of your mind.

"Hey," Azzi grabbed your arm so that you could meet her gaze. "We win and lose as a team, alright? This isn't all on you, we all played like shit tonight."

"But we always come back, Y/N." Aubrey added as you met her gaze as well. Their words would've made you feel better if this wasn't the worst you'd played all season, maybe even your entire college career.

You didn't bother to respond, you stayed quiet as you walked in your Azzi's hotel room and in there was Nika and Paige. They were seated on the bed, Nika looking more defeated than Paige, she looked more pissed than anything.

Paige didn't even acknowledge you as you walked in as she greeted Azzi and Aubrey, but you didn't even care right now. You were not in the mood for her shit, not after the game you just played tonight.

You sank into a chair in the corner of the room, the weight of the defeat pressing down on you like a leaden blanket. Nika's defeated expression mirrored your own feelings, while Paige's indifference grated on your already frayed nerves.

You listened as Azzi and Aubrey exchanged small talk with Nika and Paige, their voices a distant murmur in the back of your mind. But you couldn't bring yourself to join in the conversation, couldn't muster the energy to plaster on a fake smile and pretend that everything was okay.

Instead, you sat in silence, lost in your own thoughts. The events of the game replayed in your mind like a nightmare, each mistake magnified in the harsh light of hindsight. You wanted nothing more than to forget about the game, to push it to the back of your mind and move on, but the sting of defeat lingered like a stubborn stain.

"You okay, babe?" Nika's voice rang out as you got pulled back into reality. All the girls attention was now on you, feeling a bit self-conscious.

You forced a weak smile, attempting to brush off Nika's concern. "Yeah, just... processing everything, you know?" Your voice sounded hollow, even to your own ears.

"What's going on?" Nika asked, the concern evident in her face. "Talk to us, please, Y/N."

Nika knew how hard you were on yourself, she had seen you weather victories and defeats alike, always striving for perfection. Her gentle prodding encouraged you to open up, even if it meant admitting your own vulnerabilities.

"I played like shit," was all you could get out as you leaned forward, feeling their gaze on you. "I don't know what was so different about tonight but I just felt like the weight of the entire team was on my back and I didn't know I was carrying it until the end, and I just crumbled to the pressure."

"We all have our moments, Y/N." Azzi spoke up, empathy evident in her expression. But before anyone else could respond, Paige scoffed as she met your gaze.

"Carried the team? We all did what we could tonight and we don't need your shit." Paige's voice dripped with contempt, her words like a slap in the face.

You felt a surge of anger rising within you, fueled by the frustration of the game and now mixed by Paige's bitter words. How dare she dismiss your struggles so callously?

"What's your fucking issue, Paige?" you retorted, your voice tinged with frustration.

Paige's eyes narrowed as she glared at you. "My issue? Maybe if you didn't choke every time the pressure was on, we wouldn't be in this mess," she shot back, her words cutting like a knife. "You're always making excuses for yourself, Y/N."

You scoffed, getting up from the chair to glare at her. "I'm not making excuses, I'm acknowledging reality. We all had a bad game, Paige. It's not like you were lighting it up out there either."

"I did better than you, that's for fucking sure." Paige's voice came out bitter as you felt yourself let out a quiet scoff. You couldn't fight with her anymore, you were exhausted, both mentally and physically.

"Guys, stop it." Azzi's voice cut through the tension like a knife but neither of you acknowledged her, you both just kept glaring at each other.

"You're a bitch, Paige. You're just jealous because at the end of the day, you're just a burnt out star who can't handle not being in the spotlight anymore. Sorry that Caitlin's out there doing better than you, and that you feel the need to be a fucking ass all the time," you retorted, your words dripping with venom.

The frustration of the game, mixed with years of simmering animosity, boiled over into this heated argument that neither of you seemed willing to back down from. You didn't know why you brought up Caitlin, but all you knew was that you'd definitely get a reaction.

Paige's eyes flashed with anger, her jaw tightening as she glared up at you. "The fuck you have to bring Caitlin into this? At least I was a star, you'll never make into the WNBA with that attitude, I promise you that. You're just a selfish brat who can't handle criticism-"

"Hey!" Nika's shout rang out as she glanced in between the two of you. "One more word from either of you and I'm telling Geno, you guys are teammates and you need to act like it."

You glanced at Nika, seeing the disappointment etched on her face, and then back at Paige. Despite the rivalry between you, you knew that Nika was right ─ however, you weren't quite ready to admit that.

You scoffed as you exhaled, feeling everyone's eyes on you. You didn't acknowledge any of them as you left the hotel room, feeling your eyes burn with unshed tears. You were embarrassed, Paige had always been hard on you for seemingly no good reason but it's never gotten this bad.

You two had always been good sports, even when the other played like shit. She never brought anything up that would actually hurt your feelings, unlike tonight. You didn't know why, you tried to think back at what could've changed tonight but came up with nothing that made sense. You just hoped it wouldn't affect the way you played with her, you didn't want it to effect the team more than it has.

You walked into your hotel room, locking the door behind you as you walked into the bathroom, ready for a warm shower to drown out the rest of the world.

──

"Who is it?" You asked as you heard the knocking on the door. It was nearing two in the morning and you had just stepped out of the much-needed shower, clad only in your robe.

"It's me," Paige's voice was quiet as she spoke, your whole body tensing up just at the sound. You sighed deeply as you walked up to the door, opening it to reveal a slightly disheveled Paige.

She looked really, really good; she had her hair up in a loose bun, her gray sweats were slightly rolling off her hips and her shirt fit her just perfectly. Goddamnit, Y/N ─ focus. You tried to hide the tug of attraction you felt towards Paige, pushing the distracting thoughts aside as you met her gaze.

"What do you want?" you asked, your tone guarded as you leaned against the doorframe.

"Let me come in," Paige's statement didn't come off as a question, more like a demand. You sighed and leaned backward so that she could enter.

Before you could say anything, Paige started talking. "I don't appreciate you comparing me to Caitlin, especially after the season I had."

You scoffed in disbelief as you closed the door. "You came in here just to say that?"

Paige turned so she could send you a glare. "I came in originally cause I was gonna apologize. But then I remembered the whole Caitlin thing-"

"What's up with you and Caitlin?" Your words came out with the same intensity as hers did. "I don't know why you took that comment to heart because you started this whole damn thing."

Paige's expression hardened, a defensive edge creeping into her demeanor. "What do you mean by that?" she snapped, her tone sharp with irritation. "I had the most terrible season, and everyone has been comparing me to her-"

You felt a surge of frustration rising within you, the tension between you and Paige reaching a boiling point. "And what about everything I've been through this season?" you shot back, your voice tinged with anger. "You think this season has been a cakewalk for me? You think I don't know what it's like to struggle?"

Paige's jaw clenched, her gaze hardening as she met yours head-on. "This isn't about that," she retorted, her voice low and tense. "This is about you and Caitlin suddenly being all buddy-buddy after the Iowa game. The comments under your posts, the calling and the texting. It's obsessive and annoying, I don't like it and I don't want you hanging around her anymore."

You paused for a second, trying to process her words. Paige's accusation caught you off guard, the weight of her words sinking in like a lead weight in your chest. Was she jealous? You couldn't help but let out a small laugh as Paige's eyebrows furrowed.

"The fuck you laughing for? You think this is funny?" Paige's eyebrows furrowed even further, her frustration palpable as she waited for your response.

"Aww, are you jealous?" Your words came out amused as Paige kept glaring at you. "I'm not replacing you or the team, she has a boyfriend."

"I'm not jealous," Paige's glare intensified, her jaw tightening with frustration at your teasing remark. "Don't flatter yourself, Y/N. I couldn't care less about your little fling with Caitlin."

"Then what's your problem?" you pressed, unable to resist the urge to push her buttons further. "If it's not jealousy, then why are you so worked up about it?"

Paige's nostrils flared slightly as she averted her gaze for a moment, before looking back up at you. "Cause it's no damn comparison. At the end of the day, you're on my team and you're mine," she paused as she shook her head. "My friend," she quickly clarified.

You blinked in surprise at Paige's sudden intensity, the weight of her words sinking in like a heavy anchor. The possessiveness in her tone left you feeling flustered, unsure of how to respond.

"Paige..." you began, your voice trailing off as you struggled to find the right words. But before you could even process anything, her lips were on yours and your back was pushed up against the wall.

Instinctively, your arms found their way around her shoulders, pulling her closer as you responded to her kiss with equal fervor. The heat of the moment consumed you, erasing any doubts or reservations as you lost yourself in the sensation of her lips on yours.

Her lips on yours sent a shiver down your spine, electrifying every nerve in your body as you surrendered to the passion that consumed you. All thoughts of the past were forgotten as you gave yourself over to the intoxicating enticement of Paige's lips.

Her hands slide up your body and hold your neck as you let out a soft whimper, causing your head to fall back against the wall. Paige's lips began leaving open-mouthed kisses all over your jaw and neck, as her hands explore your body.

This couldn't be happening, you kept thinking to yourself. After playing on the same team as Paige for almost three years now, it felt like this was a fever dream ─ but you didn't mind it, not at all.

Her lips found yours again, kissing you roughly as your hands gripped her head. With ease, she lifted you up into her arms, your weight feeling insignificant against her strength. She kept her lips on yours as she carried you toward the bed, dropping you swiftly as your hands found her face.

Paige's hands had easy access to your body due the robe, that she quickly slid off as her lips stayed on yours. She pulled away for a second, breathless, as she took in your body with admiration in her gaze. You felt self-conscious for a moment, but you had no time to dwell on it as Paige pulled you down on the bed.

"You're fucking gorgeous," she mumbled as she pressed kisses all over your neck. "I hate how gorgeous you are."

Your mind was a whirlwind of conflicting emotions as Paige's words and actions washed over you. Part of you wanted to resist, to question the sudden intensity of this moment, but another part of you couldn't deny the undeniable chemistry between you and Paige.

But as her lips trailed along your neck, you found yourself unable to resist the pull any longer. With each kiss, each touch, you felt yourself unraveling, giving in to the utter need that surged through your body.

"I hate how you make me feel," Paige whispered against your skin, her voice husky with desire. "Every time I'm near you, it's like I lose control. Like I can't think straight."

Her words sent a shiver down your spine, igniting a fire within you that burned brighter with each moment. You reached up to cup her face, guiding her lips back to yours in a desperate kiss, hungry for the taste of her against your skin.

You reached out to her, your fingers tangling in her hair as you pulled her closer, unable to resist the magnetic pull that drew you together. "I hate how much I want you," Paige groaned, her voice tinged with frustration as she pressed her lips against your neck with force, pulling a soft whimper from your lips.

"I hate how much I need you," Paige spoke as she gazed into your eyes, her grip tightening on your waist as she pulled you closer. "But I'm not gonna fight it anymore. I'm done pretending like I don't want you, okay?"

You felt a rush of heat flood through you at her confession swirling in the pit of your stomach. In that moment, all you could think about was Paige completely, letting her consume you with her passion and desire.

"I want you, too, P." You finally let out, your voice quivering as she began to caress your thigh.

Paige scoffed, shaking her head at your words. "I know, I know you do."

She pushed her lips into yours again, a needy moan escaping your lips as she pushed you onto the bed. She straddled your hips as she kissed all over your neck, feeling yourself pulsate beneath her. You couldn't even think straight anymore, your mind was complete mush as she kept kissing all over your neck and jaw.

Paige mouth traveled down toward your stomach, leaving sloppy kisses and hickeys all over it. Your hands found her blonde hair, tugging as she teased you. Her blue eyes were completely focused on you, every reaction and every sound that you made, fueling her desire even further. With each kiss, each touch, she seemed determined to leave her mark on you, to brand you as hers in every way possible.

And you welcomed it, craving the intensity like a starving soul. With each tug of your fingers in her hair, Paige responded with a groan of satisfaction, her lips and tongue leaving a trail of fire across your skin.

She pried open your legs slowly, her gaze still lingering as your breath hitched. "Fuck," she mumbled as her eyes flickered toward your soaking cunt ─ she was at a loss for words.

Paige fingers teased your entrance, pulling needy whimpers from your bruised lips. "You're so wet for me, baby," she finally plunged a finger into you, causing a borderline pornographic moan to leave your mouth.

Every sensation was heightened, every touch sending shockwaves of pleasure coursing through your body as she thrusted her finger in and out of you. She wasn't gentle by any means, you could practically feel the anger radiating from her body as she watched you.

You leaned further into the bed, covering your face with your arms as a string of moans left your mouth. Almost immediately, Paige gripped your arm and pulled it off of your face. "I want you to look at me while I fuck you, alright?"

You couldn't reply with any words, you weren't even sure you were conscious at this point ─ the exhaustion from the game, the anger from the earlier argument and now the utter pleasure of you were feeling was fogging up your brain, you couldn't even think straight anymore; all you could do was sit there and take it.

You tried your best to keep your eyes on her, but you felt yourself slipping as you arch your back. She added another finger, causing a new sensation jolting down your body ─ you hadn't even orgasmed yet and you feel beyond overstimulated.

"Does Caitlin do this better than me, huh?" She mumbled as she leaned forward to press a sloppy kiss to yours lips. "Fucking answer me," she groaned as she pulled away.

You shook your head fervently, the only words you were really understanding were "Caitlin" and "better". Her movements became faster and deeper with your answer, causing another loud moan to slip out of your lips.

"Fuck, please," you cried out as you leaned back into the bed. Paige quickly pulled you down by your hips, making sure to pin you down as she continued to finger-fuck you. "Please,"

"So polite, baby. Fucking three years, it took me three years to realize that they only thing you needed was a good fuck for you to be nice, huh?" She spoke harshly as she felt you tighten around her fingers, your face contorting into utter pleasure as you shut your eyes. "Now I know whenever I need you to shut up, all I need to do is fuck you, right baby?"

Her words all blurred in your mind as she began rubbing your clit, and you were cumming all over her fingers ─ the knot snapped hard, you were crying out so loudly, Paige was worried the neighbor's were gonna call the office.

She helped you ride your high as you caught your breath, before she pulled out her sticky fingers from your cunt. Before you could even process it, she stuffed them inside your mouth roughly as her blue eyes analyzed you.

You sucked them clean as you finally came back down to Earth, finally (kinda) being able to think straight. You were breathless, your legs were shaky and you were sweaty all over again. You finally opened your eyes to meet Paige's eyes, your heart almost jumping out of your chest at the look of utter admiration on her usually disinterested face (at least, when it came to you).

Before either of you could revel in the moment any longer, Paige's phone began to buzz in her sweatpants. She sighed loudly before picking it up, "What's up?"

You could recognize Nika's voice as she spoke but you couldn't quite understand what she was saying. However, when Paige's expression turned cocky as she took another look at you, you had a couple ideas on what it could be about.

"Yep, we made up. We're fine now, don't worry. Yeah, we're good, y'all can head to bed," she nodded along with whatever Nika was saying, a cocky ass smirk on her lips.

"You wanna talk to her? You sure?" Paige took a look at your disheveled appearance, laughing as your eyes went wide. Before you could protest, she handed you the phone. "Here you go,"

"Hey, babe," she spoke softly through the phone. "I made P go and apologize, I hate seeing you fight like this and-"

Her voice slowly became background noise as Paige leaned back into the bed, pulling you into her chest. Your heart began beating out of your chest as you relaxed into her embrace.

"-And I just love you guys, okay? Y/N, you still there?"

"Y-yeah, sorry. I'm just sleepy, we love you too, Nika," you got out as Paige smirked at you.

"Okay, okay," Nika replied, her voice filled with genuine affection. "Get some rest, okay?"

You said your goodbyes before handing the phone back to Paige, who ended the call with a satisfied grin. You couldn't help but roll your eyes at Paige, only she would fuck your brains out then make you answer the phone.

You laid on her chest quietly as she pulled the blanket over your body, pulling you even closer. You guys sat in silence, both of you knew there was a lot of debrief ─ however, both of you were too tired to bring it up.

"I'm sorry for bringing up Caitlin, that was a bitch move," you began as you closed your eyes, getting comfortable beside Paige.

Paige's hand gently traced patterns on your back as she sighed softly. "No, I'm sorry too," she murmured, her voice filled with sincerity. "For being a bitch, and saying all that stuff about you not making it into the WNBA,"

"I know you didn't mean it," you mumbled as you felt yourself drift off into sleep. Paige leaned over slightly to turn off the lights, and you both slowly drifted off the sleep.

↳ make sure to check out my navigation or masterlist if you enjoyed! any interaction is greatly appreciated !

↳ thank you for reading all the way through, as always ♡

[kookslastbutton]

Guilty Pleasures ༓ jjk, kth (m) | chapter iv

✑ Summary: Three years of being Seoul's power couple earns you nothing but a big fat divorce settlement and your face plaster on every gossip column around town. You're angry, hurt, and desperately want to move on, but worst of all? You're still in love with the man who started the whole mess, even though the most he can ever see you as is a friend. The renowned actor you've hired to be your company's new endorser seems to have a soft spot for you though. He's easy on the eyes, you'll admit, but who actually wants a divorcee like yourself? It's unrealistic really.

pairing: ex-husband ceo!jungkook x ceo!reader, actor!taehyung x ceo!reader (not poly)

genre/AU: angst, smut, fluff, loverstoexesto ?, coworkers2?, unrequited love

Word count: 11.3k

Warnings: oc and jk are both 30, Taehyung is 32, swearing, tornado of emotions (you might laugh, you might cry, and you might just wanna punch something after this chapter), morally grey characters, mentions of toxic relationships, mentions of broken home/families, mentions of therapy, struggles of self-blame, regret, guilt, denial, self-deprecation in some aspect, etc., mentions of alcohol consumption, mentions of sexism in the media and business world

playlist: Unkiss Me, Apologize, Hate That I Love You, etc.

a/n: So, elephant in the room....how did this get past 11k when other chapters are significantly shorter? Well...I had ideas? I'm sorry!! 🫠 ANYWAY more angst in this chapter. Sorry not sorry for what you will consume here. I honestly love this chapter so much though! Okay, I won't say any more bc spoilers are cool but not in my fic! (hehe) Enjoy! 🥰

series masterlist | next >>

Numb.

It’s the only word you can rummage up to describe the sudden shift in your demeanor. You’d think one’s typical response to their ex-husband’s drunken confession would be one of confusion, anger, hurt, or the like.

But you’ve gone stone cold instead, barely able to feel the steaming hot water that kisses your skin from within the tub. The room seems to have become a bit of a haze too, your vision blurring as you grip your cell phone in your hand.

The absurdity of it all—the man who handed you divorce papers now professing his love—feels like a cruel joke. The sheer impossibility of the situation is almost laughable, yet you can't even bring yourself to do that at this point. You've exhausted all of your emotional resources.

You’re unsure how many seconds pass before his voice calls your name again.

“__? Are you still there?” His voice is a muffled echo in your mind. It sounds so far away, though you know he’s right here on the other end of the line.

"Honestly Jungkook…I don’t know what you expect me to say.”  The words come out slow, measured, and almost emotionless.

There's a pause, and when he speaks again, his voice is hoarse, cracking under the weight of his confession. "I guess—I'm not sure either. But I just needed you to know. I needed to tell you everything."

“You're drunk. You realize that, right?"

“I had a few beers, yeah," he admits. "Maybe I'm a little tipsy. But it doesn’t change the fact that I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you lately. I miss you, __, a lot."

The words hang in the air, and for a moment, you’re back in the past, back when those words would have meant the world to you. But now, they feel hollow, devoid of the warmth they once carried. And how can they not? You tethered yourself to your ex-husband for three years, learned his patterns, became acquainted with his needs, and danced with his indifference. In the end, the result is always the same, and this time is no different. By morning, he'll likely forget everything he's ever said to you and return to his normal habits.

You take a deep breath, your head resting on the cool porcelain tub, and close your eyes. "I can’t do this," you say quietly. "Not now."

"It's late. I understand-"

"No," you interrupt, voice firmer, "you don't understand, Jungkook. You don't understand me and you never have. I'm hanging up now."

"Please don't. I know I've hurt-"

"Stop. Do you know how patronizing that sounds to me? Please don't call this number again."

"But... I love you, __," his voice is barely a whisper. "Do you not love me anymore?"

"Goodbye, Jungkook." You end the call before another word can drop from his lips, or yours for that matter. It's time you accept that you are never more than an impulsive decision, a temporary solution, and an item on his agenda. Tonight's conversation solidifies that for you.

Despite being sleep-deprived the next morning, you refuse to let fatigue keep you from fulfilling your promise to visit Taehyung at the hospital. You've been anxious about him all night, tossing and turning without respite. The weight of your ex-husband's drunken confession added to your restlessness as well. Nevertheless, you push it out of your mind as you bound out the front door.

Upon arrival, you are greeted by an abundance of flowers, cards, and thoughtful gifts scattered around Taehyung’s hospital room. One bouquet on the windowsill catches your attention in particular—its familiar scent of lavender is instantly recognizable.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” a voice says from behind you. You turn to see Dr. Min entering the room, Taehyung’s chart in hand. He seems more lively than last night, his expression noticeably brighter with a faint smile on his lips.

“Yes, they’re lovely,” you reply. “I’m guessing these are from Taehyung’s fans and colleagues?”

He nods. “Indeed. Lavender is a calming scent. It’s no wonder people chose it for him.” The corners of his mouth lift slightly before he continues, “My girlfriend loves it too. She says it helps her relax after a long day.”

The comment is unexpected yet sweet. You notice the suppressed grin and the warmth in his eyes easily, signaling his deep affection for her. You wonder how it must feel to love someone so purely and without restraint. Before the thought lingers, your gaze shifts involuntarily to the man on the hospital bed, still asleep. Though the bandages are gone and his breathing is stable, your concern deepens as you take in his nearly still form.

“How’s he doing?” you ask, moving closer to his bed. Your heart tightens with each step as the cuts and burns on his face become more visible.

“He’s lucky,” Dr. Min says, walking to the opposite side of the bed, his tone growing serious. “He has multiple rib fractures, a mild concussion, and a few burns, but it could have been worse. Taehyung is stable now, and we’re monitoring his progress closely.”

“How long will it take for him to heal?”

“His face burns are only second-degree, so they should heal in a couple of weeks. The concussion should also resolve with ample rest and by avoiding strenuous activity—both physical and mental.”

“Which means he won’t be able to act for a while?” you ask, reading between the lines.

“Afraid not,” Dr. Min dismisses the idea. “Hopefully, his projects can accommodate his absence.”

“What about his rib fractures? I imagine those will require the most attention.” You feel like you might be asking too many questions, knowing Dr. Min will likely need to repeat everything to Taehyung later, but you can't hold back. After all, you made a promise to yourself last night that you'd ensure he'd be alright.

“Yes," Dr. Min answers carefully, "they could take up to three months to fully heal. We recommend applying ice for 20 minutes at a time, several times a day. As long as he remains stable over the next few days, he can be discharged to continue his recovery at home." He pauses, allowing you to process the information before continuing. "It's crucial that he rests. Even if he feels bursts of energy, he needs to let his body heal. Light activities like breathing exercises and short walks are fine, but he should avoid intense exercises until we give the all-clear.”

You nod thoughtfully, absorbing Dr. Min’s detailed prognosis. Taehyung’s condition sounds serious but manageable. After such a traumatic accident, it's clear he'll need months to heal. Getting him to adhere to the doctor's orders will be challenging, given his profession and active social calendar. However, if you need to be the one to remind him, you will.

“I’ll make sure he follows your recommendations,” you assure Dr. Min, your voice tinged with concern.

“I have no doubt,” Dr. Min replies with a reassuring smile. “You know, you're the first person who’s shown up for him both last night and today. Aside from that young man who came in briefly. Namjoon, right?”

“Yeah,” you respond slowly, the revelation catching you off guard. “He works as my secretary but he's also a good friend of Taehyung's. His family really hasn’t come in yet?” You circle back to Dr. Min's first point with a sense of urgency.

You wouldn't normally be this insistent on the matter; however, past conversations with Taehyung have revealed how much he cherishes his family, often sharing stories about their reunions with warmth and enthusiasm. With such a loving family, you’re taken aback that they haven’t shown up yet. Then again, his accident was sudden, and there could be various reasons for their delay. Do they even know about his accident, for that matter?

“They called, of course, but you’re the first to actually come in,” Dr. Min clarifies, his gaze thoughtful as he responds to your concern. "You must be quite an attentive boss to show this level of care for your colleague."

There's an underlying suggestiveness laced in his tone, but you're quick to brush it off, redirecting the focus to Taehyung’s condition. “It’s the least I can do, given what he’s going through,” you say, trying to sound matter-of-fact. “He’s a valuable member of our team, and I want to make sure he gets back on his feet as soon as possible.”

Dr. Min's eyes twinkle, as if holding back further commentary. “Even from a professional standpoint, not everyone would go to such lengths for a coworker. He’s fortunate to have you.”

You feel a slight flush as his subtle implications continue. “Well, I just…care about his well-being. Besides,” you glance back at Taehyung, your expression softening more than you intend, “I know he'd do the same for me.”

For a few short breaths, Dr. Min remains silent as your attention remains fixed on your colleague. “I need to check on a few other patients so I’ll leave you two alone for now," he finally says, breaking the silence. “I'll be back to check in on him again later, but if you have any questions or need anything in the meantime, the nurse is nearby."

With a nod and a soft "thank you," you watch Dr. Min exit the room, leaving you alone with Taehyung once more. After settling into a chair beside his bed, you silently observe the steady rise and fall of his chest. The rhythmic sound of his breathing is a small comfort amidst his vulnerable state. Despite everything, you're glad he's going to be okay.

As each minute passes, nurses come and go, and the hum of activity outside the room gradually fades into a background murmur. You had only planned to stay for an hour this morning, but time seems to slip away as the clock now nears 1 p.m. You had hoped Taehyung would be awake by now, but he remains still.

After a brief sigh, the thought occurs to you that you don't have to spend so many hours here, waiting for Taehyung to wake up. It's the weekend, and there are plenty of other things you could be doing instead. Dr. Min could easily call you the moment Taehyung wakes up. But something in your conscience urges you not to leave. Just give it another hour, you think. If he isn’t awake by then, you can come back tomorrow.

Suddenly, a slight movement catches your eye. Taehyung's fingers twitch, and his eyelids flutter. You nearly missed it with how lost you were in your thoughts.

Leaning forward with nervous relief, you softly call his name. It takes him a few seconds, but slowly, his eyes blink open. He turns his head slightly, gaze eventually finding yours, and you feel momentarily transfixed. It's unlike you to respond this way, but you had forgotten how piercing and comforting his eyes could be. A genuine smile immediately spreads across his face once your eyes meet, though not as boxy as usual due to his condition. Nevertheless, it's encouraging to see him awake and responsive.

“Hi," his voice is strained but recognizable. "It's...nice to see you."

“The feeling's mutual,” you respond gently. “How are you feeling?”

He shifts slightly, wincing a bit. “Like I got hit by a truck,” he mutters. “I’m sore all over.”

“You had a close call, but you’re in good hands now. Your doctor, Dr. Min, says you'll be okay, as long as you take it easy for a while. He was here earlier this morning, but he'll check in with you again soon.”

"You..." He hesitates, surprise flickering in his eyes. "You've been here since morning? What time is it now?"

"Oh, uh, it's around 1 in the afternoon," you say, gradually realizing the weight of your words. You consider whether or not to tell him the full extent of your stay. “I got here a few hours ago. Don’t worry.”

Taehyung nods slightly, a mix of gratitude and concern evident in his expression. “Thank you for being here,” he murmurs. “I wasn't sure if I'd be alone.”

A sinking feeling settles in your chest at his words, your throat tightening. Before you can ask what he means, he continues, “I must have taken a lot of your weekend from you.” His tone is apologetic, and your heart aches. Here he is, lying on a hospital bed, in pain and vulnerable, and he’s worried about inconveniencing you.

“I'm glad to be here,” you reassure gently. “I promise, you’re not alone. A lot of people care about you.”

Taehyung glances around, taking in the gifts and flowers scattered throughout the room. “From my fans, I’m guessing?” he asks, attempting to keep his tone light.

“And your colleagues too,” you reply. “We all want to see you get better." Taehyung returns his gaze to you, a faint smile lingering on his lips. Neither of you says anything, which unsettles you.

“Did you sleep okay?” you ask, the question coming out more hurriedly than intended.

“I drifted in and out for most of the night. It’s hard to get comfortable,” he admits, "I think I could still hear a lot around me. It felt like someone was holding my hand for a few minutes too, but I’m not sure how much of it was real or just dreams, though.”

Oh shit. You weren't expecting that answer.

The possibility that Taehyung might have heard you talking to him last night shouldn't be that embarrassing, yet your mind races with thoughts of what he might have heard or understood in his semi-conscious state. Not only did you share more than you probably should have, but you also touched his hand to feel his pulse, and he felt it.

“Well, um, I'm sorry to hear you had a rough night. You should rest more,” you suggest, trying to compose yourself. "I should get going anyway and let you sleep.” You begin standing from your seat but don't get far before the gentlest of touches brush against your wrist. When you look at Taehyung, he quickly retracts his fingers, concerned he overstepped.

"Shit, I'm sorry, __. I didn't mean to grab at you like that," he says softly. "It's just...would you mind staying with me a little longer, please? I'd really appreciate the company."

You can hear the yearning in his request. It's clear that he doesn't want to be alone, and you don't blame him, especially after the accident he's endured. Settling back into the chair, you agree to stay a bit longer, perhaps another half hour, before heading home; you realize you haven't eaten lunch yet.

"So, how are you doing?" he asks. "We haven't talked in bit."

His question triggers a flood of thoughts, the most recent interaction with your ex-husband being one of them. Up until now, you've managed to push his drunken call out of your mind, preferring to focus on Taehyung instead. However, Jungkook's unexpected confession still throws you for a loop. It's not that you're riddled with the need for clarity on its validity, especially since you don't believe him anyway. How could he claim to love you when he also admits he doesn't understand his own feelings? On top of that, being drunk while doing so—it doesn't make sense.

No, the real question now is what happens next. How do you proceed? Will he try to reach out again? The way he asked if you still loved him before you ended the call weighs on your mind even now.

You know you'll need to discuss this with Melody during your next therapy session.

Before you spiral further, you decide to steer the conversation away from personal matters and opt for a safer topic.

"The company is doing well," you reply with a smile. "The new campaigns we've put out recently have been pretty successful. Although," you add, a hint of curiosity in your tone, "the team has missed your frequent drop-ins, especially Namjoon." If you're honest with yourself, you've missed them too.

"How is he? Namjoon?"

"He's okay, but he's been concerned for you," you answer carefully. "When we heard the news, we came to see you together, but he was quite affected. He promised to visit once you woke up."

"So," Taehyung takes a moment to process. "That was this morning, right?"

"No, actually, it was yesterday."

There's a brief, awkward silence as you sense Taehyung might be thinking the same thing you are—about your presence last night. Surprisingly, he doesn't bring it up. Instead, he eyes you curiously, biting down on his lip slightly.

"I meant to stop by last week," he admits. "But we were wrapping up the final scenes of my film shoots. The producers were eager to finish them. I'm just thankful we got them done. I wanted to spend a day riding my bike along a scenic route until... well, until all of this happened. I don't remember much, but I'm just grateful Tan wasn't with me."

"Tan?" you ask, curious now.

"Yeontan, my pomeranian," Taehyung explains with a soft smile. "He means the world to me. My parents take care of him when I'm busy with filming. I was actually planning to drive up and visit them this weekend. And, of course, bring Tan back home with me. They live pretty far from here, so it's better that I go up to them if I can."

Well, that answers the question about his parents not being here yet, you think to yourself.

As Taehyung speaks, you can see a flicker of fondness and relief in his eyes when he mentions his dog. It must have been months since he last saw him.

"I bet you miss him a lot," you comment softly, "Tan."

"I do," he admits with a slight smile, "but I know he's being well taken care of. Hopefully, I can see him soon. And my parents too."

"I understand that feeling," you reply, nodding thoughtfully. "Pets have a way of becoming family, don't they? I had a cat named Evie when I was growing up. She was a feisty little thing with green eyes, always getting into mischief. We got her from the streets and she was so slim, but it didn't take her long to beef up with all the treats we gave her. Whenever I was feeling down, she would curl up next to me, as if she knew. It's funny how they have that kind of intuition, isn't it?"

Taehyung listens intently, a small smile playing on his lips. You feel a slight flush of embarrassment at your tangent. It's one of the few times you've shared something personal about yourself that wasn't work-related. Feeling like you might have overshared, you decide to stop, assuming Taehyung isn't interested in knowing that much.

You chuckle inwardly at yourself.

Jungkook was your husband for three years, and he never seemed to care about such personal details.

I—" you start, intending to apologize, but Taehyung interrupts.

"Did you have any other pets?" he asks, curiosity piqued.

You chuckle softly, reminiscing. "Yeah, we had... uh, god, you don't want to know how many pets we had."

"Try me," his eyes become playful, yet there's a seriousness behind them, like he really wants to know. It's unfamiliar.

"Alright," you chuckle, "aside from Evie, there were three other cats. Calvin and Misha were the adventurous ones, always climbing trees, while Pip was the cuddly lap cat. Then there were two dogs: Toby, our sneaky Chihuahua, and Bella, a terrier who growled at everyone. Oh, and we had three rabbits too. Cute, but also feisty."

Taehyung laughs, "I sense a theme going on."

"What theme?"

"Well," he grins, "It seems like your household was filled with some strong main characters."

You chuckle at his joke. "Yeah, our house was never quiet, that's for sure. Each one had their own personality and quirks."

"You don't have any now though? Pets, I mean," Taehyung asks.

"Sadly, I don't," you reply with a hint of regret. "The company takes up a lot of my time, and I don't think it would be right to leave a pet alone for extended periods. I might consider getting another cat, but right now, focusing on running the company leaves me with little spare time. I miss having them around though."

Taehyung mulls over your word carefully. “If I ever get out of this hospital...maybe I—”

Before he has the chance to finish, the hospital room door opens, and Dr. Min enters, his expression serious yet composed. His eyes widen slightly in surprise, not expecting to see you still here and Taehyung awake. “I’m sorry to interrupt,” he begins, glancing between you and his patient. “It’s good to see you up and looking a bit better."

Dr. Min approaches Taehyung's side, opposite to you. “How are you feeling?” he asks.

Taehyung's demeanor shifts instantly, his playful expression fading as he turns to answer. “Pretty sore, honestly,” he replies.

Dr. Min nods. “Let’s run a few checks to see how you’re doing.”

Sensing this is your cue to leave, you rise from your chair and reach out to touch Taehyung's hand. But you stop yourself short. Something about performing the physical action while he’s fully conscious instills a flutter of nerves within you. Instead, you gently tap his shoulder, causing him to meet your eyes. “I think I'll be going now, but it was nice talking to you,” you say softly. "Was there something you wanted to say earlier, though?"

He pauses for a moment before replying, his expression reminiscent of the time a few weeks ago when you declined his dinner invitation. You still don’t understand why he seemed somewhat disappointed; it's not like it was a date. He had made it clear he wanted to go out as colleagues. The only reason you declined was because you didn’t want him feeling pity for you, or the struggles that came with the divorce.

"It's okay, we'll have to save that conversation for another time," Taehyung's voice brings you back to the present. "Enjoy the rest of your day, __. Thanks again for staying with me."

"Of course," you reply, then turn to Dr. Min. "If you wouldn't mind letting me know when and if he can be discharged, I'd appreciate it. And Kim Namjoon too, since we're both nearby." Dr. Min nods in agreement. With that, you sling your bag over your shoulder and exit the room.

“He said what?!” Your best friend Jimin almost shouts through the video call, eyes wide with disbelief. You’ve just finished recounting your ex-husband's unexpected, drunken confession from the previous night. Jimin, who already holds a deep-seated grudge against Jungkook, looks livid.

“He had the nerve to say that to you? While he was drunk?” Jimin continues, his hands clenching into fists.

You nod, feeling a mixture of frustration and exhaustion. “Yeah, I told him not to call my number again and he hasn't contacted me since.” As expected, he likely forgot all about it.

“Good,” Jimin declares with a fierce protectiveness, his tone leaving no room for doubt. “You don’t need that kind of drama in your life, especially not from him. And if he even thinks about calling you again, just say the word, and I'll come down there and handle it personally.” He emphasizes 'personally' with such intensity that it makes you giggle for the first time tonight.

“Thanks, Jimin,” you say, a warm feeling spreading through you at his unwavering support. “I’m just trying to move on, focus on work, and other things.”

Jimin’s expression softens, and he nods firmly. “You're incredibly strong, __. Are you really okay though? It was a huge blow for him to make a confession like that and even though I dislike him, I know you still have some lingering feelings for him. I'm not a fool to believe you're unaffected.”

You take a deep breath, appreciating your best friend's perceptiveness. “It’s complicated. I’m trying so hard to move past everything, especially with Melody's help, and then he just…throws that at me. It’s like he’s trying to pull me back into his mess.”

Jimin’s eyes are filled with concern. “You don’t owe him anything. Remember that. He made his choices, and you have every right to move on without his baggage.”

“I know,” you sigh, rubbing your temples. “It’s just…easier said than done. But I’m working on it.”

“You’re doing great,” Jimin reassures, his voice gentle. “And you have every right to focus on yourself now. Don’t let him mess with your head.”

You nod, feeling a bit lighter with the support. “Thanks, I needed to hear that.”

“I'm always here for you love,” he says, his protective demeanor softening into a warm smile. “Now, enough about that idiot. How’s everything else? Work? Taehyung? Everyone at the office is talking about his unfortunate accident, poor sucker.”

At the mention of your colleague, you feel a sudden heat rise to your cheeks. Did the heaters in your apartment just turn up or something?

“He’s slowly recovering," you answer. "I saw him this morning and we talked for a bit. He’s... he’s been through a lot.”

Jimin raises an eyebrow, “You saw him yesterday too, right? And if my memory serves, you were at the hospital with him until the afternoon. I remember I texted you to see if you were free to call earlier than planned. Something you'd like to tell me?” A teasing grin suddenly spreads across his face, and you shake your head, knowing exactly what he's insinuating. It's like talking to Dr. Min all over again.

“Seriously, Chim, no, it's not like that," you deny instantly, heart racing a little. "He's been my company endorser for a little over six months now, and he’s been nothing but kind to me. With everything he’s been through, I just want to make sure he'll be okay. I feel somewhat responsible for him. Maybe I'm crazy.”

“Responsibility, huh?” Jimin smirks, unconvinced of your denial. “Sure. Because ‘responsibility’ usually makes people blush.”

You wave off his suspicions, a nervous chuckle escaping you. “I’m not, so if you wouldn't mind ceasing your teasing, that'd be great."

“Okay, okay,” Jimin chuckles, raising his hands in mock surrender. “But if you ask me, it sounds like more than just responsibility. Taehyung seems like a sweet guy, and you care about him. And I sense he feels the same way about you. Don't think I forgot about his little dinner request weeks back.”

You chuckle, brushing off his suspicions. “Oh, come on, enough. Believing that Kim Taehyung has any kind of interest in me is like believing that Jungkook loves me. It’s unfathomable. Taehyung's a colleague, that’s all.”

“Okay, excuse me? Unfathomable?” he scoffs, shaking his head. “Someone help! My best friend is selling themselves short, again. __, you’re amazing, and anyone, including Taehyung, would be lucky to have you. That ex-husband of yours was an idiot, but just because he couldn't see what he had doesn’t mean others can’t.”

You roll your eyes playfully, but Jimin’s words hit a soft spot. “Chim, you're sweet, but I'm just saying that Taehyung is on a completely different level. I’m just me... a 30-year-old divorcee with a half-decent startup.” Those alone are enough to have any man steer clear of you.

“Stop this, __. You're much more than that, and it's pretty damn incredible,” Jimin insists, his voice firm. “You’ve been through so much, and you’re still standing. That’s not something to brush off. Taehyung sees that. Anyone with half a brain can see that.”

You sigh, feeling a mixture of gratitude and skepticism. “I appreciate it, Chim. But let’s just drop it, please?”

“Alright, I won't push it," he concedes gently, "just know I’m here whenever you need.”

“Thanks, Jimin,” you reply, feeling a warmth in your heart. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“Probably explode from all that bottled-up stress,” he jokes, making you laugh again. “But seriously, you’re doing great. Just keep taking it one step at a time, and call me if you need anything!”

As the call ends, you’re left with a lot to think about. Jimin’s words echo in your mind, and for a brief second, you find yourself wondering if maybe your best friend is right—that perhaps you do care about your colleague more than you’re willing to admit.

Well, either way, it doesn't matter; you've got enough on your plate as it is.

Starting with the stack of papers laid out on the coffee table, work you brought home that's awaiting your attention. It's a critical deal for your startup, one that could secure much-needed funding and propel your business to the next level.

Sighing softly, you reach for your laptop and open the latest project proposal.

You start your Sunday as you always do, with a book in hand, heading to your favorite café. It’s a ritual that’s been with you since your teenage years, and today, you feel a desperate need for its familiar comfort. After wrapping up the project proposal late into the night, your brain craved a break.

Entering the quaint café, you’re greeted by the comforting aroma of freshly brewed coffee and the soft murmur of conversation. Finding a cozy spot by the large window, you settle in for a day of reading, occasionally looking up to observe people passing by outside.

Hours slip away unnoticed in the serene atmosphere, lost in the pages of your book. Somewhere along the way, mid-sentence, your thoughts subconsciously drift to a conversation with Taehyung weeks before his accident—the day of your six-month anniversary.

You remember how he mentioned his interest in books that day, leaving you curious about what he enjoys reading. You imagine he might be into classic authors like Charles Dickens or Oscar Wilde. Then again, you might be mistaken.

Refocusing on your book, you manage to read another paragraph before thoughts of Taehyung intrude again. Did he have any company today? You quietly hope Namjoon paid him a visit. "Okay, __, calm down," you tell yourself, "Taehyung will be fine, and Namjoon definitely would have visited him now that he's awake." With a determined effort, you return to your book.

It isn't until the sun begins its descent that you decide it's time to pack up your things and head home. Passing by the hospital on your way, a sense of restlessness tugs at you once more. Should you stop and see Taehyung, even if only for a few minutes? The thought lingers, but then you recall Dr. Min's pending update on his discharge status. Maybe it's best to wait for his confirmation.

You continue driving, but the concern refuses to leave your mind. Eventually, you make a decisive turn, heading back towards the hospital. It wouldn't be as lengthy as last time—just a quick visit to check on how he's doing.

When you arrive at the hospital, you hesitate for a moment outside the entrance. It's Sunday evening, and visiting hours are likely limited. You check your phone quickly to see if Dr. Min has sent any updates, but there's nothing new.

Taking a deep breath, you decide to go in anyway.

Taehyung is awake when the nurse leads you to his room, casually flipping through a magazine. He looks up, his expression softening into a smile upon seeing you.

"Hey," you say softly, stepping inside. "I was in the neighborhood and thought I'd stop by. I hope it's okay."

"It's more than okay," he replies warmly, setting the magazine aside. "I'm happy to see you."

You nod, feeling relieved that he isn't disturbed by your presence.

"Though, in all honesty," he continues, "I didn't expect you back today."

"I just wanted to check on you and make sure you're okay," you admit quietly, taking a seat nearby. "How are you feeling?"

"I'm better, just a bit sore still," he says sincerely, his gaze meeting yours. "What about you? How's your Sunday been?"

"Quiet," you respond with a small smile. "Spent most of it reading at a café, and then decided to stop by here."

"Really?" His interest piqued, he asks, "Which one? Sometimes I do the same thing when I have some free time. Or, I'll read at the beach too. It's relaxing."

"Well, have you tried the one on Willow Street? I've been a regular there since I was 16."

"No... I'm not familiar with that one," he admits, "I usually go to the one on 5th."

"5th? You know, I don't recall a café on 5th, unless..." you pause, realization dawning, "oh no," you blurt out unintentionally.

"What?" Taehyung's eyes twinkle with amusement at your spontaneous reaction. "Have you been?"

You hesitate to answer, not wanting to risk offending him.

"Yes..."

"And?" Crap, you were hoping he wouldn't ask for details.

"Um... it's okay," you reply simply.

"What? Just okay?" Taehyung exclaims, feigning offense. "Their coffee and tea are decent, and they have those comfy armchairs by the window."

"I know, but there's just something about it," you reply with a playful shrug. "Maybe it's the lighting, or maybe I'm just picky."

"Fair enough," he chuckles. "Maybe I'll check out this Willow Street café sometime. You've been going there for years, so it must be good."

"Well, I highly recommend it." You can't help but feel a bit smug, though you try to keep a straight face. It's just nice to have someone take your suggestion seriously. "You'll have to tell me your review of the place if you go."

Taehyung nods thoughtfully in reply, his gaze lingering on you with a hint of admiration. You look away, pretending to straighten your jacket. Why is he staring like that? You're not used to being looked at without some sense of hostility.

Just as you begin to feel a bit awkward, the door swings open, and a nurse peeks inside.

"Sorry to interrupt," she says kindly, "but visiting hours are over for the evening."

You glance at your watch, surprised at how quickly time has flown. "Oh, okay," you reply, a touch disappointed. "I'll be heading out then, thank you."

Once the nurse leaves, you direct your focus back to Taehyung. He smiles understandingly, sitting up a bit straighter. "Thanks for stopping by," he says warmly.

"Yeah, of course," you reply, gathering your things. "Did Dr. Min mention having you discharged any time soon?"

He shakes his head. "Nothing yet. Might be here for a couple more days."

You nod, feeling sympathy for his extended stay. "Well, take care of yourself, okay? Let me know if you need anything."

"I will," Taehyung assures you with a grateful smile. He watches as you make your way to the door, but just before you can twist the metal knob, he speaks up agian. "Uhm...if you have time tomorrow, I wouldn't mind if you came in again. It was nice to...chat."

For the first time, Taehyung seems to stumble over his words. As someone who's naturally charismatic, not to mention a skilled actor, there's a hint of nervousness in his voice.

When you turn your head to glance back at him, his smile has faded, replaced by a hopeful look, hands gently clutching the blankets.

"Sure," you agree to his innocent request, somehow unable to resist. "I'll try to stop in tomorrow if I can."

His boxy smile returns instantly as he bids you one final goodnight.

As you walk out of the room, that same smile lingers in your mind—you're glad you decided to come by.

In the days that follow, you find yourself at Taehyung's hospital bed every evening after work. Initially fulfilling his wishes, you gradually realize you've grown fond of his company. Taehyung turns out to be easy to talk to, a good listener who encourages questions you wouldn't normally ask within office walls. Here you are again, immersed in yet another spontaneous conversation that neither of you minds.

"So, what's it really like?" you inquire, curiosity lacing your voice. "Being an actor? And what about kissing strangers? I've heard some co-stars end up together after playing an onscreen couple for so long."

Taehyung chuckles softly, his eyes crinkling with amusement. "Being an actor is both exhilarating and challenging," he begins, reflecting on his experiences. "Kissing scenes... well, they're not as glamorous as they seem on screen. There are a lot of technical aspects to consider, like camera angles and timing. As for getting involved with co-stars outside of filming, I wouldn't be familiar with that. I prefer to keep those lines pretty separate."

You listen intently, fascinated by his insights into a world so different from your own. But one thing sticks out to you—how does he handle kissing scenes if he were to be in a relationship? Wouldn't that get complicated?

"I often wonder what I'd do if I had a partner," Taehyung muses suddenly, his voice thoughtful, as if sensing your unspoken question. "About the kiss scenes, I mean. I haven't actually dated for a while." Really? You think, he cant be serious...

"I'd imagine they'd be understanding since it's part of the job," you offer, trying to match his contemplative tone.

"Is that how you'd respond?" Taehyung's question catches you off guard.

"Me?" you ask, feeling slightly dumbfounded.

"Yeah, I'm just curious. Would you be okay with that?"

"Uhm... well, honestly, probably not," you admit, feeling a bit awkward. "I think I'd have a hard time wrapping my mind around it. I'd kind of feel like I was sharing my partner. I don't want to share like that."

Shut up, shut up, shut up, you mentally chastise yourself. You definitely said too much.

To your surprise, Taehyung merely gives a small smile in response. "I think I'd feel the same," he says softly.

The subject ends there, as the conversation soon shifts to his latest project instead—a romantic comedy series titled with a playful nod to a four-leaf clover.

"You know, I've never seen a four-leaf clover in my life," you admit with a slight chuckle.

Taehyung laughs softly, his eyes brightening. "Really? They're supposed to bring good luck, you know."

"Good luck, huh? I guess I've never had the pleasure," you replied with a grin.

"Well, then it's settled," he declared with a playful glint in his eyes. "I'll find one for you once I'm out of here," he promises warmly.

You smile, exchanging a silent moment before hitting him with your next question. "Do you watch your own shows or movies?" you ask, genuinely curious.

Taehyung's expression shifts subtly, his gaze momentarily distant. "Honestly, I don't," he admits, his tone tinged with a hint of embarrassment. "I guess I've always felt a bit awkward seeing myself on screen. It's strange, right?"

You reassure him with a smile. "It's not so far-fetched, but I don't think there's anything to be embarrassed about. You're talented, Taehyung. I'm sure your performances are amazing."

Taehyung nods thoughtfully but then quirks an eyebrow at you. "But have you actually seen any of my work? It's a little cheesy."

You hesitate, feeling a touch sheepish. "Honestly, no," you confess. "I've never watched any of your shows or movies. But I will!"

A flicker of déjà vu crosses Taehyung's face, his expression turning thoughtful. "That's funny," he murmurs. "I feel like I've heard those exact words before, recently."

You chuckle nervously, trying to lighten the mood. He can't be referring to that night you spoke to him while he was asleep, right? "Maybe it's just a sign that I need to catch up on all the great acting I've been missing out on," you quip, hoping to diffuse any awkwardness.

Taehyung grins, his playful demeanor returning. "Well, I'll hold you to that. You'll have to give me your honest review."

"Deal," you agree with a nod. "So, as much as I hate to cut this short, I think I'm going to have to get going now."

"I understand, it's past 6:30 pm. See you tomorrow?"

"Sure thing," you reply warmly. "Get some rest."

By Thursday afternoon, you finally receive the long-awaited call from Dr. Min, informing you that Taehyung will be discharged the next morning. You're relieved that Taehyung is healthy enough to continue his recovery at home. Seeing him yesterday, he looked the best he's been since his accident. However, a small part of you feels annoyed that Dr. Min didn't call you—he called Namjoon instead.

It was an ordinary afternoon when your secretary's phone rang. Namjoon was crouched over at his desk, concentrating on a number of spreadsheets just moments before. You remember leaping over to him as soon as you heard the words, "he's ready for discharge tomorrow," leave his lips.

It's now Friday morning, and you're standing in front of your secretary's desk.

"So, you're off to pick up Taehyung now?" you ask, as casually as you can. You do your best to ignore the lingering irritation growing inside you.

"Yeah," your secretary finally replies, glancing up from his screen. "I'll drive over to the hospital in about half an hour."

"Okay." You nod, biting your tongue. So what if Namjoon gets to pick him up instead of you? It's fine, you should get over it.

It's just a little odd that Dr. Min chose to call Namjoon instead of you though. You know for a fact you've been much more involved with Taehyung's well-being than he has.

Of course, Taehyung and Namjoon are good friends, but your secretary has only gone to see him twice over the past week his buddy's been in the hospital. You've been there every day, so wouldn't it make sense that you be called first?

Evidently not.

Namjoon will be taking Taehyung home, and you likely won't be seeing him at all today. In fact, you're not even sure when you'll see him next. Technically, you have his address stored away in an HR file, but you're no creep. And you most certainly are not about to show up at his place unannounced.

It's not like Taehyung has texted you today either. Not even a quick update on his condition.

"Um..." Namjoon starts, shifting awkwardly in his chair. "Is there something else you wanted to say? I feel like you're kinda hovering over me now, to be quite honest."

"Oh, sorry," you respond, stepping back a bit. You didn't realize you were staring at him, wordless, for longer than normal. "Nothing else. Drive safe."

As if seeing right through you, Namjoon's expression softens. "If you want to see how Taehyung is, you can just text him. I'm sure he'll respond to you."

"No, it's okay," you quickly dismiss the suggestion. You don't want to bombard a man who's just getting out of the hospital with your texts. You'll leave him alone to rest.

Namjoon gives you a knowing look, eyeing your slightly hesitant state. "I'm serious, boss. Text him. You've been at his side this entire week, so if there's anyone who'd be more deserving of knowing what's up, it’d be you."

Deserving? That's a bit far, is it not? Yes, you've been visiting him, but it's not like you saved his life or anything. It's not that big of a deal. You just wanted to...make sure he was okay.

"I—When did you decide to call me boss again?" you switch subjects, but Namjoon remains unaffected.

"Text him," Namjoon says for the final time before reaching for his keys in his desk drawer. "I gotta get going, but I'll be back after I drop Tae off."

"Tae?" You haven't heard him called that before.

"Yeah, it's kinda a pet name. Sorry, I started calling him that once we became friends, so it slips out here and there. It's like second nature now."

"Got it," you nod, a bit disappointed. Maybe you weren't as close to Taehyung as you thought. "Make sure he gets home okay," you finish.

"I will." Namjoon gets up from his desk and heads out of the office. You turn around and return to your own office once he's out of sight.

While Namjoon is out, his phone rings incessantly. You find yourself getting up from your desk multiple times to take calls. By the afternoon, you're exhausted from the constant interruptions.

Maybe you should consider giving the poor man a raise.

Before the thought fully develops, his phone rings again. You don't even bother checking the caller ID anymore; you simply pick up the phone and answer in your sweetest voice.

"__? I thought I’d be hearing Namjoon first... hey," his voice is hesitant. "I hope I’m not interrupting anything."

"Jungkook," you reply cautiously, instantly recognizing his voice. "Why are you calling my work phone?"

"I... I didn't know how else to reach you. Can I come in or can you come into the parking lot? I have something to give you."

You pause, feeling a rush of unease. You haven’t spoken to Jungkook since last Friday when he called you out of the blue. Honestly, you hoped you wouldn’t hear from him, especially after telling him not to call again. It's strange that he keeps finding ways to show up unexpectedly.

"What is it you need to give me, Jungkook?" you ask bluntly, "I'm very busy."

There’s a brief silence on the other end before he answers, "It’s... It’s something personal. I’d rather not discuss it over the phone. Please, can you just come down for a moment?"

You weigh your options, torn between curiosity and apprehension. His unpredictability lately has left you unsure of what to expect. "Jungkook, I really don’t think—"

"Please," he interrupts, his voice sounding more urgent. "I promise it won’t take long."

Taking a deep breath, you decide to handle this with as much grace as you can muster. "Fine. I’ll be down in a minute."

You end the call and sit back, trying to steady your thoughts. His sudden request feels odd, and part of you worries about what he might say or do next. As you make your way to the parking lot, you mentally prepare yourself for another potentially difficult encounter.

When you arrive, Jungkook stands near his car, nervously shifting his weight from one foot to the other. His usual confident demeanor seems replaced by a sense of unease.

"Hey," he starts, his voice tentative, "thanks for agreeing to meet."

You give a brief nod, keeping your tone neutral. "Yeah, sure. What's up?"

Jungkook shifts awkwardly, his gaze dropping momentarily before meeting yours. "I wanted to apologize," he continues, his voice tinged with regret. "I'm sorry for calling you up drunk."

You feel a flicker of irritation. This is what he wanted to give you? An apology that's seven days late? You figured he would have just forgone the apology by now.

"Why now?" you ask, crossing your arms over your chest, a defense mechanism you've developed. "It's been a week. I’m not sure if you realize that or not though."

"I know," he says quickly, his eyes earnest. "I wanted to come sooner, but I wasn't sure if you'd want to see me or just never hear from me again."

You scoff slightly, "Well, for the first time, you are completely right. I don't want to see you, Jungkook." You try to keep your voice steady, but the raw edges of your emotions bleed through. There’s no point sugarcoating it at this stage; he’ll just keep pushing your boundaries if you don’t become firm with him.

He winces at your words, nodding slowly. "You have every right to feel that way. I messed up, big time. I just wanted you to know that I'm truly sorry. You deserve someone who isn't as screwed up as I am. But I still mean everything I said that night. I do love you. It took me until now to realize that, apparently."

You sigh, the weight of his words pressing down on you. Love? Now? After everything? Somehow, it feels more like a burden than anything.

"Jungkook, love isn't a get-out-of-jail-free card," you say slowly, your voice somewhat shaky. "It's not something you can just throw out there to fix things. Not only did you divorce me, but you also led me to believe we could actually be something. All those weeks of you being attentive and showing up for me after I shared my feelings made me believe that you were honestly trying to make our marriage work, that you were committed. You lied to me, discarded me, and now that I'm not around, you suddenly miss me? No, I'm sorry. You broke my trust, and that's not something you can just apologize away."

You pause, feeling the weight of your words settle in the tense air between you and Jungkook.

He looks down, nodding again. "I get it. I really do. And I don't expect you to forgive me or anything. I just wanted you to know that I understand how much I hurt you, and I'm sorry. I understand if you hate me."

You take a moment to collect your thoughts, trying to keep your voice steady despite the emotions threatening to stir inside. "Jungkook," you begin carefully, meeting his eyes. "What happened between us was painful. You calling me drunk last week was also painful. I'm sorry about the challenges you had with your parents, but it's no excuse to put that on others. If you need someone to discuss personal matters with, I suggest you see a professional."

You pause, taking a deep breath before continuing.

"I don't hate you, okay? I'm not that cold-hearted. There's still part of me that I think might always hold space for you, but I can't just forget everything. I need to move on, and that means you can't keep calling me at random times. It’s not fair to either of us. I appreciate the apology, but I don't think we can go much further."

He nods solemnly, understanding your stance. "Okay," Jungkook replies softly, his voice filled with a sadness you hadn’t expected. "I understand. I'll respect your wishes and leave you alone. Take care of yourself, okay? I...I want you to be happy, even if it’s not with me," he says, his eyes earnest. "And... I'm really sorry for everything."

He begins to back away toward his car, and as he does, it hits you—it’s over.

"Take care, Jungkook," you say gently. "Don't overwork yourself, alright? Stay healthy."

He looks at you, forcing a smile. "You know I can't do that. It isn't in my blood." He sings the last part, referencing a song you both used to joke about, and you let out a small chuckle despite yourself.

"God, Jeon, I thought you'd stop with that song by now." you say, shaking your head.

"Nah," he replies, shaking his head with a faint grin as he opens his car door. "I'm taking it to my grave. I'll see you later, __."

You know the last part is a lie, an empty promise to soften the blow. Still, you respond, "Yeah, see you."

With that, you part ways in the parking lot, each going your separate ways. As you walk back to your office, the weight of the finality settles in. It's all over, you think, feeling the sting of a single tear trailing down your cheek. Unbeknownst to you, a similar tear streams down Jungkook's face as he drives away, each tear falling for completely different reasons.

Two weeks pass, and Jungkook keeps his word. He hasn’t called, texted, or shown up at your work. It’s as if he’s become a stranger, someone you once knew but is now part of a distant past.

Your days begin to regain a sense of normalcy. The emotional weight of the past few months slowly starts to lift, allowing you to refocus on your work and personal well-being. The company demands your attention, and you dive into projects, meetings, and strategies with a renewed energy.

Yet, despite the return to routine, there's a persistent sense of something missing. You haven’t talked to Taehyung at all since he got discharged from the hospital. You haven’t seen him either, and the silence pulls at you more each day.

Every time you try to get information about him from Namjoon, he gives you the same response: "Just text him. Don’t overthink it; he’ll be glad to hear from you." Once, you sensed that Namjoon wanted to say more but stopped himself short, making the excuse that it wasn’t for him to say. Whatever that meant.

You’re on your way home from running errands when the thought enters your mind for the umpteenth time: should you text Taehyung?

You’re torn between respecting his privacy and wanting to check in on him. He hasn’t reached out, so maybe he’s trying to distance himself or just needs time to recover alone, now that he’s in the comfort of his own home. On the other hand, you can’t shake the feeling that checking in would be the right thing to do.

As you approach your apartment building, you pull over into a quiet parking spot, letting your car idle. Gripping your phone, you take a deep breath and finally decide to text him.

You: Hey, Taehyung. I hope you’re doing well. Just wanted to check in and see how you’re feeling. Let me know if you need anything. We still miss you at the office!

You stare at the message for a moment before hitting send. The butterflies in your stomach flutter as you wait. What if he doesn’t respond? What if he doesn't want to hear from you?

You end up deleting the message entirely.

Forget it, you think, if he wanted to hear from you he would have texted by now, right? Just leave it alone. You said you'd support him while he was in the hospital and you did. Now he needs his space to finish healing. He'll reach out when he's ready.

Your phone buzzes the next minute, snapping you out of your thoughts. You glance at it, half hoping that Taehyung was secretly telepathic. But it isn’t from him. Instead, it’s a notification from a friend inviting you to a small get-together this coming weekend.

Smiling, you accept the invitation.

Turns out your friend's get-together was a singles mixer. Unsurprisingly, you weren't approached much, if at all. It seemed the men were either too nervous, still associating you with your ex-husband, or not quite into accomplished women. That didn't stop them from ogling you, though, as your friend insisted that you dress for the affair. You didn't choose anything flashy, but it was certainly flattering.

Leaving without a phone number didn't bother you, though. At thirty years old, most of the people were younger than you, including your friend who was a couple of years younger. Plus, you found your mind often wandering to the one man you hadn't heard from in nearly three weeks—Kim Taehyung. Should you stop overthinking and finally listen to Namjoon's suggestion? Maybe it's time to contact him.

Lost in thought on your drive home, you snap back to reality when you slam on the brakes at a sudden red light. Damn, you hadn't noticed it change so quickly. Shaking off any lingering daze, you refocus and spot a man crossing the street ahead, a little dog trotting beside him on a leash.

"Taehyung," you whisper to yourself. "What is he doing out here, especially on this slipper—shit!"

Your heart skips a beat as Taehyung stumbles on the ice, struggling to keep his balance. Concerned, you pull up to the side of the road as soon as the light turns green, parking quickly and jumping out of your car to rush over to him. He leans against a brick building, his dog, Tan, yelping at your approach. Cute little guy, but you're focus is on Taehyung.

"Damn," he mutters, trying to steady himself. His eyes widen when he catches sight of you. "__, I—" he begins.

"What are you doing, Kim Taehyung?" you scold gently. "Are you trying to hurt yourself again?"

Taehyung meets your gaze, his Gucci scarf wrapped snugly around his neck. "No," he replies earnestly. "I just needed some fresh air. It's been nearly three weeks since I was discharged, and Dr. Min said short walks with Tan are okay now. My parents were here for a while, but they left this weekend."

His explanation sinks in as you take in his appearance. Despite the chill in the air, he looks better than the last time you saw him. His cheeks are slightly flushed from the cold, and there's a determination in his eyes that wasn't there before.

"You should be more careful," you reply softly, stepping closer to him. Tan, sensing the shift in attention, continues to bark happily, tail wagging. "Are you okay? My car is right here, if you need me to take you home or anything."

Taehyung nods, a small smile playing on his lips. "I know, I know. Sorry for worrying you." He gestures to Tan, who is now circling around your legs in excitement. "Tan here doesn't seem to mind the ice at all, and surprisingly, he doesn't mind you either."

You chuckle softly, crouching down to pet the little dog. "Is he usually this friendly?"

"Not at first, no," Taehyung replies, his tone lighter now. He glances down at you, his eyes softening. "I'm glad I ran into you, though. It's been...a while."

You nod, standing to your feet. "It has. I'm glad to see you're doing better."

"I am," he affirms, his gaze steady on yours. "Thanks to you, mostly. You were there for me when I needed it the most."

"Oh, come on," you say, waving off the comment. "I didn't do that much."

Taehyung's smile widens, a hint of amusement in his eyes. "You did more than you realize."

You feel a slight blush creeping up your cheeks at his words, but you maintain eye contact, appreciating the warmth in his gaze. The longer you stand there, staring at each other, the uneasier you feel. Perhaps you shouldn't ask the question that's been on your mind, but it slips out before you can stop it.

"Why didn't you call?" you ask, surprising both yourself and Taehyung as he simultaneously voices the exact same question.

Taken aback by the simultaneous question, you both chuckle nervously, breaking the tension. Taehyung scratches the back of his neck, sheepish.

"I thought about it every day," he admits, his voice quiet but sincere. "But I wasn't sure if you wanted to hear from me. I already took so much of your time, and I didn't want to ask more from you. So, I asked Namjoon to pick me up from the hospital. I thought maybe it would be better for me to wait for you to reach out and focus on recovering."

You nod, understanding flooding your expression. "I felt quite similar. I thought maybe you asked Namjoon because he's your friend. I didn't want to hound you when you just got released from the hospital, so I decided to let you recover in peace. I guess in the end, I was also waiting for you to reach out with an update of some kind."

Taehyung takes a few seconds to fully absorb your words before replying. "I'm sorry," he says softly, his eyes reflecting genuine remorse. "I didn't mean to make you feel like I was avoiding you. I would have been more than happy with you picking me up instead of Namjoon. I realize that I should have at least reached out to update you instead of going silent. I'd like to think of you as my friend too. But I wasn’t sure if you felt the same, and I just didn't want to burden you." His gaze becomes downcast as he stares at the ground beneath him.

You're unsure where you find the courage, but you bring your hands up to cup his cheeks, gently lifting his face so he meets your eyes. You have to stand on your tiptoes a bit, which he finds endearing.

"I’d like to consider you my friend too, and that means you shouldn't worry about burdening me anymore, Tae," you say softly, your touch lingering momentarily on his face, caught up in the moment. When you realize what you've done, you pull back slightly, flustered. "Um… sorry, I didn't mean to call you that."

"It's okay," he responds, his voice gentle. "I don't mind. You can call me Tae from now on if you'd like. Also, you're not a burden either, you never were to me."

You're speechless for a second before replying. "So, friends then?" you ask. "No more mixed signals and reaching out when we want?"

"I mean, I’d like that as long as you do too," he confirms with a warm smile, though his eyes say there's more that he's left unsaid. You don't notice, however.

"Text me whenever you have something on your mind," he continues.

"I will," you promise. “You too.”

"Definitely.” Taehyung pauses, glancing down at Tan who's decided to lay down by his feet. "So, I was going to take a walk with Tan at the park nearby. Any chance you'd like to join me?" His gaze shifts back to you, hopeful yet uncertain.

"I'd like that," you reply genuinely. "But we're taking my car over, so you don't break a hip on this ice, old man."

Taehyung's mouth gapes open as he shakes his head. "How many times do I need to tell you? I'm only two years older than you. Two!"

It's surreal.

How much you and Taehyung have started becoming friends, that is.

Almost two months have already passed, and it feels like just yesterday you were merely colleagues, you his boss.

Saturdays have become your day with Taehyung now. While part of you insists it's to prevent him from slipping on the ice again, deep down, you both know there's more to it now that he's almost fully recovered from his injuries.

Each weekend, you find yourselves exploring different parks and streets, swapping childhood stories, and sharing laughter over the dumbest things. Today, however, would be different. With rain threatening to drench the city, Taehyung suggested a change of plans—a cozy movie day indoors. Little did he know, you had a surprise in store for him.

You dash up to the front door, a bag of homemade food in one hand and an umbrella in the other.

Taehyung opens the door with a grin, holding his own umbrella. "Hey! Perfect timing," he chuckles, taking the umbrella from you and gesturing inside. "Come in. It's freezing out there today."

You step inside, shaking off the raindrops and removing your shoes. The warmth of his home envelopes you, a comforting contrast to the chilly rain outside.

"I brought something," you announce, holding up the bag. "Guess what it is?"

Taehyung looks at you curiously, his eyebrows raised in anticipation. "Hmm," he muses, pretending to ponder. "Knowing you, it's probably my favorite spicy chicken wings from that place near your office."

"Very close, Tae. Except these chicken wings were made by your favorite person in the whole world," you tease, handing him the bag with a grin.

Taehyung's eyes lit up as he takes the bag from you. "No way," he says, a mix of disbelief and excitement in his voice. "You made them yourself? You're the best, __. Seriously."

"It's the least I could do," you reply with a smile, following him into the living room where the TV flickers. "Besides, it's pouring out there. Movie day with good food seems like the perfect plan."

"Absolutely," he agrees, setting the food down on the coffee table. "I was thinking we could start with that new action flick I heard about."

"Aww, but I thought you said we could watch one of your movies instead?" you argue playfully, sinking into the couch. Tan bounds over, wagging his tail in excitement at the prospect of company. You scratch behind his ears while Taehyung sets up the movie.

"What? I don't remember saying that. Was I drunk that day?" he jokes.

"Well... maybe?" you tease back.

"I told you, __, I don't like watching my own films. It's weird, and half the time it's me kissing the female lead. You're going to need to watch those on your own time," he quips, his tone more serious than intended. The truth is, he really would rather not be there when you watch him kiss his co-stars.

"Alright, alright, getting aggressive over there," you chuckle, not seeing the faint rosy tint that's crept up on his cheeks. "We'll watch the action movie."

As the opening scenes roll, you can't help but steal glances at Taehyung. Despite the seriousness of his recent health issues, he seems more at ease today, a genuine smile gracing his face as he takes a seat beside you. It feels good to see him like this, relaxed and feeling more like himself.

Halfway through the movie, he nudges you gently. "Thanks for coming over today," he says softly, his gaze warm as it meets yours. "And for the food, of course."

"You don't have to thank me," you reply sincerely, nudging him back with a smile. "I'm happy to do it."

Unexpectedly, Taehyung reaches for the TV remote, pausing the scene playing in front of you. "Hey, __," he says, turning to face you, a hint of nervousness in his eyes as they shift from side to side.

"What is it, Tae?" You feel a slight unease, sensing tension. He's once again just staring into your eyes, wordless.

"Do you..." he starts but stops short, his voice trailing off.

"Yes?" You search his face for clues as to what he's trying to say.

"Would you want to go to a party with my family?" he finally asks, his words coming out in a rush. "My parents are hosting to celebrate my recovery, but really it's just an excuse to get the family together."

"So, a family reunion?" Your voice drops slightly, a mix of surprise and...disappointment? Why had you been expecting something different?

"I mean, yes, sort of. You don't have to if you don't want to," he adds quickly, almost anxiously. "I know it might be uncomfortable for you, but you've been here for me during so much of my recovery. It would mean a lot to have you there. My parents want to meet you too."

"Um... well, I've never been to a family function before," you admit hesitantly.

"You haven't?" Taehyung looks genuinely surprised.

You shake your head. "My family's never been one to do those types of things."

"Well, consider yourself part of my family then. Come with me, __. They'll love you."

"I-I don't know about that," you say softly, a flicker of uncertainty crossing your face. "How can you be so sure that they'll like me?"

"Because I do," he urges gently, "and if I like you, so will they."

You're taken aback by his words, unsure how to respond. Surely he means this in a platonic way. Despite growing closer, you and Taehyung are just friends, setting aside any previous suspicions of romantic interest. Maybe if circumstances were different—if you weren't divorced—then maybe you could entertain the idea.

For now, you'll leave that side of him alone and simply be his friend. You feel a bitter aftertaste in your mouth.

"Okay," you finally say, nodding your head. "I'll come. When is it?"

"They want to do it next weekend, weather permitting. We can carpool if you'd like, or you can take your own car," he offers.

"I'll think about it," you reply, trying to process the unexpected turn of events.

"Great." Taehyung flashes a boxy grin. "Thank you, I was so nervous to ask."

"Of course," you say, offering a tight-lipped smile. Taehyung unpauses the movie, and you return your attention to the TV screen. Minutes following your phone buzzes and a text message from Jimin appears on your screen.

Chim 🐥: __! Hate to be bringing this up, but have you seen the news about Jungkook? Looks like he's preparing to step down as CEO. Did you know about this?"

What? You had no clue.

a/n: If you are mad at me, well....I'm sorry but pls blame jk instead. But I am hoping you enjoyed! 🥰 vote jjk or kth

Masterlist | Requests: closed | Taglist | Fic Recs

Tags:

@jksjx @lovingkoalaface @junecat18 @babystarcandyjk97 @wobblewobble822 @a-gayish-unicorn @neverthefirstchoice @whipwhoops @hubbytaehyung @jalexad @cassies-cookies @llallaaa @marshieeeemallow @baechugff @lovemazespluto @eegyo @iwanttobecalledaurora @harmonyflora @francheskarm34 @sftlrmin @saba-ya @11thenightwemet11 @yoursnixni @zafirowwa2909 @btsffreader92 @junniesoleilkth @iamcamlb @bangctans @lilliankoo @talyaaas-blog @blackswan18 @appleh4ad @hoseokteardrop @613tannies @whoa-jo @borahaeb1ch @getougf @chimmisbae @kookcobain @miniekookiegucci @purplelanterns @eegyo @inthemiddleofsomething22-blog @darkuni63 @bibimboppin19 @phanniefoo @chieftoadturkeynickel @existenciosa @dasommwa @minayas1998 @sumzysworld @pwd54gr54 @jellycake2109 @sigxx123 @00frenchfries00 @importantperfectionmiracle @stigma93 @lpgirl2324 @youremyjinearth @moonups-stuff @bubblyyz @hvnnibvni @ttanniett @secfir @urlovelily @iknowhistouch3 @nadzzzblog @itsmina29 @mochibites00 @syazzzlisa @ash07128 @kawennote09 @merrygo14 @butterymin @cybercheesygurl @juju-227592 @lesiacapouille

side note: I tried tagging readers in comments but most of them didn't go through, so i'm sorry about the clutter here...😬

no reposting, copying, or translating my work– © kookslastbutton

[djpisskink]

in most cases of schizo spectrum disorders, the age of onset tends to occur during young to later adulthood, on average. knowing that doesn't make looking back on my younger self any less mind boggling. i had so much drive, i was such an emotional child who would cry for hours, didn't matter if it was over a sad story or something bad that happened to me, or even something happy. i wanted to be liked so badly, the sting of rejection from my peers felt like the world was crashing around me. i'd binge watch anime, make fan art, practice drawing, pump out several fanfiction chapters a week, play games and make friends online, without mentioning the hours spent on roleplaying sites.

that knowledge also opens my eyes to the small warning signs. being bullied and rejected by people who were supposed to be my support systems ever since i was a small child made me grow up into a cynical angry jerk with a faux unbothered facade. i learned that if i pushed my reactions and feelings down, people would quickly leave me alone. if i hid my "real self" and separated it from the world, becoming a spectator instead of a performer in it, people wouldn't have power over it anymore. in short, people would always prove themselves to be utterly unreliable in one way or another.

over the years, i learned to leave first. to critically analyze myself, and others, and the situations at hand, to the point where nowdays it's extremely difficult for me to truly immerse myself in a situation. i grew a resentment towards the idea of being caged, of being at the mercy of other people and their feelings and ideas. i had been deprived of true freedom for so long that once i tasted a drop of it, i decided then and there that i never wanted to go back.

nowdays it's difficult for me to do much of anything, or at least care enough to do so. if i wasn't audhd i doubt there would be much pushing me to do the scarce things i already indulge in. the fact that i seem secure in myself and who i am, mixed with my inability to judge others with its roots in indifference and a mind limited by logic, makes me be perceived as someone reliable. but i'm really not. i've hurt people because of the way that i am, and it's not something i want to do. in some cases it's unavoidable though.

at the end of the day, i like being schizoid. learning to navigate the world and other people with this brain is both the easiest and most laborious thing i've ever done. i don't think i'll ever be able to truly show all parts of myself to others, but then again i don't think most people can.

i'd just like to be content with what i have. i want to genuinely like being here, every day. that's what i want. and sometimes that sounds impossible, but i believe that child still lives in me, somewhere. and if it could do at least some of it, even while carrying all that hurt, then i think i can, too.

[bimgtt]

SP never destroyed anything

so what they wanna proof that blushing sasuke loved sakura but in real sasuke blushing at that time means it's embarrassment nothing romantic, sp didn't do shit

what has changed it is till the same bloody

They did good by showing sakura isn't insensitive jerk to a injured person and giving him space but in manga she is a insensitive prick

when is sasuke blushing, it was shadow of his hair sasuke was actually smiling in anime, plus anime was in 2000s, that's why quality down, so they focus on important things, blushing was like something impossible to add at that for some reason

instead they add a hug so it's not even that important cz sakura forcefully squeezing sasuke's hand

funny angry expression cz he had a vision of his massacre self and angry and now wanna throw at someone bc of curse mark, it's same

what's their agenda with this, it proves nothing negative for sasuke

what's difference, both same expression of gratefulness for a comrade mixture with sad and frustration along with pain of curse mark

again what they wanna proof sasuke even not looking at sakura but drawn from different angle than manga that's why it's misunderstood sasuke is looking to none but towards empty point,

what it proves that sasuke love her, delusion looool

same expression in one sasuke looks more exhausted and nihilist and indifferent robotic face other one more angry,

doesn't proof anything positive for sakra stan to cherry picks

again when opening your mouth is surprised expression with no reaction dialogue, both have same expression with manga had open mouth, sakra stan cheery picks well

sugarcoating like sakra stan, sasuke's face is surprised in the anime too but you have to see very closely to understand that not from far away cz it was drawn in a very small way

studio can't cz the way draw sasuke was different then manga that's why they can't add blushing, it would be inconsistent,

also blushing doesn't mean she likes her but he was flustered for some reason, we know what is the reason but you can't sugarcoat panel without indicating concretely why sasuke felt flustered for sakura or something else or being centre of attention when he said about his goal

lol in manga sasuke even not laughing just looking at her with guilt face not love but in anime he is laughing like he is part of team 7 now,

funny this where guilt tripping of sasuke by team 7 started

at least anime tried to make it like consistent memory while manga proved it imagination of sarada with sasuke having both hand and fat

what does it even proof when it was stated sasuke had no contract with her for decade in your fanfic novel mentioned it so why does it matter if it was present or not cz people will read gaiden not only watch anime

this one is bad

instead they add sakura's badass fight not damsel in distress

in manga sasuke looked like depressed as hell but in anime they made him jolly, should be happy for your stan, sasuke didn't , he did cz sarada did

when novel became canon,

they are same as anime canon fillers,

so be grateful, they even adapted these fanfic which only for shippers

lol at least anime showed the canon sasuke not fanfic sasuke,

sasuke who didn't even care when his wife transported now jealous and didn't even hug her when she wanted lol??

anime did better to maintain consistency of sasuke, sasuke never gets jealous, didn't even care when she stabbed by madara never sent a letter in a decade now suddenly jealous

it was filler they can't add everything

like it' even a problem!!

lol sasuke's jealousy wasn't there when he was contract less with her for decade

they removed the creepy part of sakura

if he can count on her then why didn't he let her beat shin uchiha and sending letter to her, i mean he can count on her so sending letter wouldn't hurt his mission after all he can count on her

they want anime fillers to be treated as arc when SP had tight schedule at that time for boruto

he is having smiling face

the man who doesn't even care to send a letter once for a decade or mentioning his wife name before leaving with boruto

[pandorasword]

I've got my eye on you

Chaeri as the 8th and youngest member of BTS.

「 From the column: How BTS take care of Chaeri, now and before 」

❒ member: Taehyung

❒ genre: Emotional

❒ words: 10k+

❒ summary: In which Chaeri realised that she missed the warmth of a hug more than she expected and that family may not always be a matter of blood

❒ notes: Bold and Italic at the same time indicates a sentence said in French.

❒ warnings: Mention of assault (Not described in detail)

「 Chaeri's Masterlist on my blog 」

Takes place not long before their debut | 2013

She once had a cellphone.

Before returning to Korea, her lifestyle could be described as more than wealthy. Her mother, a prima ballerina at the Paris Opera, never had to make compromises on how much money to spend and how much money to keep each month since she had pursued that career, and this benefited her children too. Chaeri always had a wardrobe full of the prettiest dresses, handbags from internationally renowned French designers, and the most professional pointes and tutus that could be found on the market. Because, of course, all those comforts she enjoyed came at a price: her dedication to ballet.

Her mother wanted, rather, demanded, her children to be as talented and successful as she was. To Dal, her brother, this came as easy as breathing.. He was the reincarnation of ballet. Chaeri, though, felt like she had to try harder than anyone else to be acceptable in her mother's eyes. Her life revolved around dance lessons, model walking, manners and everything that would make her perfect not only for her mother, but for everyone. The words 'In this family, we do not accept failures' were often repeated to her. 

Being perfect is a heavy responsibility for everyone, but for a young girl a somewhat heavier one.

Fortunately, in her opinion, what made the days better was the time spent with her brother. The brother she loved deeply, admired and would have given her life for. She could have sworn the feelings were mutual but, apparently, he prioritised other things over her. Like everyone else. But of all the others, she didn't care, never had. What she had hang onto all those years was the bond she thought she shared with her brother. She should have hated him after the way he had turned his back on her not long ago; the disappointed angry eyes in which he judged her and called her a liar; the indifference he showed in letting her go back to Korea without even telling her that he was going to miss her; the way he failed to protect her. 

Instead, there she was, on the floor of Big Hit's public relations office, now empty by hours, with a handset phone beside her, the stretched wire running all the way across half the room, from the plug to where she was sitting. With her back against a desk she hugged her knees to her chest, with the feeling that if she squeezed them tight enough her heart too would find a way to heal its cracks. She tried to call him at the Opera Institute in Paris, where he’d been studying and living for years after winning a scholarship - she tried that too but it hadn't gone the same way -, she tried calling him at home and on his mobile phone.

The first attempt ended with a not-so-convinced 'He's not here, I'll tell him you called' from his housemates.

The second attempt ended with her mother hanging up on her.

The third, the most painful, was hearing his voice clearly telling her that she should not call him again unless she had an apology to drop.

As if she had to apologise for what was done to her.

Her eyes were pinching, a bit from disappointment a bit from anger.

But she wasn't going to cry. She wasn't going to cry. She wasn't goin-

Her thoughts of self-conviction were interrupted by the creaking sound of the office door.

That door should definitely have been oiled, the noise was unbearable.

"Chaeri-ya, I thought you were staying to practice, I was going straight to the studio but then I noticed that the only lights on besides the security lights were on this floor. Are you... okay?"

It cannot be said that Chaeri was ever rude to her mates but, certainly, for the first few months she could be described as quite reserved. She preferred to be on her own at every good opportunity, to have casual conversations without getting too personal with them. Not shy, but private. Being shy was not compatible with her strong and decisive personality that she always showed and never hid. The main feature she was proudest of.

When she saw Taehyung at the entrance of the office where she had spent the last few hours, she quickly pressed her eyelids together to wipe away the veil of tears that threatened to spill out

'I'm fine, thank you. You didn't need to come looking for me." "I wanted to"

His kindness always left her speechless, would she have been able to act as coolly with someone who hardly considered her? Probably not. He moved closer until he was a few steps from her feet

"May I help you?" "To what?" "To get that sad look off your face." "No sad look, I'm just tired."

By that time she would have liked to be alone with her thoughts, to have the chance to process yet another rejection from her brother without having to pretend that nothing was wrong because she was in other's sight.

“Look, I know we don’t know each other well, but I’m still worried about you. No one deserves to face things alone'. We are going to be a family, we should act like one"

Family

Her mouth turned bitter as she heard the boy's sentence. It was everything she did not want: become a family with them. The only concept of family she had was the one imparted by her mother and brother, and she could well do without it at this point.

"In families there is no confiding, only pushing each other to do better and better."

Tae's face was confused "I don't know why you think that but family is exactly where you should open up. No one can help you better than it"

Chaeri's eyes fell on the phone left at her side. She tried to confide with her family but everything had fallen apart because of that. A lump rose in her throat that prevented her from speaking. Would she have been better off keeping quiet? Perhaps her brother would still have spoken to her if she just kept what had happened that day in dance class to herself. But it would have been so wrong to keep it hidden.

Taehyung sat down on the cold floor in front of her "Was your family the one you called on the phone?" he pointed with his chin at the device.

Chaeri nodded without looking at him.

"Sometimes calling your relatives is worse than not hearing from them, that makes the melancholy of home even heavier."

"It's even worse if the melancholy of having me home is not felt by them." Her voice broke almost in tears that could have burst out at any moment. She felt overwhelmed by all the negative emotions accumulated over those months.

"There's not a chance they don't miss you" "Oh, trust me. There's more than a chance" "Tell me about it" "What?" "Talk it out with me. I won't give you advices or my opinion if you don't want it but I'll be a good listener. I think you need to talk about whatever is haunting you."

She hated how she was unable to manage her emotions without them taking over. She looked up at the ceiling of the room, dotted with dark specks of damp. She began to count them one by one to keep control.

"There's nothing to talk about." "You think I didn't notice that you don't feel safe?"

She didn't realise how evident her discomfort was to others until the moment Taehyung pointed out the truth to her. They believed she did not feel safe with them. This, if possible, broke her heart even more. She had never thought for a single second that one of those seven kind boys she lived with could do to her what that monster had. Despite that, it seemed that her constant anxiety about finding him around the corner had led the boys to believe that she did not feel safe with them. She couldn't hold back the tears any longer. The black dots she had been looking at until a second before were now faded by the tears blurring her vision

"I'm sorry. You haven't done anything that ever led me to think I couldn't be safe."

Taehyung was reluctant to touch her to comfort her, although he craved to be able to wipe away her tears and caress her back.

"And I assure you that it will always stay this way, Chaeri-ya. We will never do anything to make you feel uncomfortable."

For long minutes, all that could be heard in the room were the girl's sobs and nothing else. Her heart was beating so fast that she could feel the pulse in her ears and throat. The calls on the phone and the conversation with Taehyung brought back memories of each moment that led her to leave France. It took an unmeasurable strength for her to regain control of her mind.

"I have been-"

She hadn't said those words since the day she told her mother. She remembered too well how she slapped her, threatening to do it again and again if she kept saying what to her mother were only lies.

Taehyung reached out a hand to hers, squeezing it. He wanted to give her strength

"I have been assaulted by my dance teacher, in Paris."

She told someone, and that made it all even more real. The monster, as she used to call him in her thoughts, had tried to convince her that she actually misunderstood everything, that she was exaggerating it to the point where she started to doubt herself and her state of mind. But he had not succeeded, neither he, nor her mother, nor her brother - who was deeply offended by what Chaeri was implying about the teacher who had taught them both how to dance for their whole lives - .

"And that doesn't make me think that all the people around me could hurt me. I know he was the damaged one but…" She had to pause to recompose her voice "But what hurts me is that my mother… my mother and my brother believed that I made everything up. They believed him and not me. They believe him and not me. So, Taehyung-ssi, tell me how should I want to refer to someone as family if family fails you so much?"

The guy's face became unreadable and the trauma she had gone through made her fear that he would not believe her either. She was about to get up and leave when she heard him speak

"Can I hug you?" She stayed quiet for few seconds "I didn't tell you these things to be pitied" "I don't want to do this to pity you at all. The reason is because I feel you have been denied this kind of touch for too long".

The girl felt a warmth in her chest, that typical feeling you get when you are understood, treated with kindness. She nodded without even thinking about it too much, because if she did she probably wouldn't have accepted.

He was behind her, wedging himself into the space between the desk and the girl's back, to wrap his arms around her in a backhug. He rested his cheek on her hair. His eyes were damp too, but he wouldn't let it show.

"I promise you that in our family no one will ever make you feel alone or misunderstood. Never will anyone let something so horrible happen to you again. And I, personally, swear that I will get an eye on you. Always"

She really wanted to believe in the words of the boy who was so gently trying to make her feel better. Could that be the good time when she would really find a family that cared about her? And when was the last time someone cuddled her?

She couldn't remember, yet she felt as if it had been a lifetime.

[sketching-shark]

For the character ask game. Part of me wants to say Wukong but.... let's throw a curveball and say Predaking :3

All right @ladyzerodark! World's best robot dragon :D

Okay, so keep in mind that this is coming from someone who never watched Transformers Prime all the way through and knows about this guy a lot through osmosis.

That said, I do think that there's something so interesting and compelling about the basics of Predaking's background that could act as a catalyst to have all sorts of contemplations on everything from the nature of mass extinction to the destructive and self-destructive consequences of warfare, capitalism, and imperialism.

Like, just the fact that Predaking's a clone from the species of cybertronians that went extinct long before TFP's timeline and who was created to be a weapon of war already means that this guy's existence is ripe with all kinds of horrors. And of course all of that is exacerbated by the other cybertronians mostly treating him like a dumb dangerous animal at best or as someone to kill off once he presents a potential threat at worst. Plus there's some really juicy glimpses into how he really wants a family and was really looking forward to more predacons being brought into existence up until both Autobots and Decepticons decided should all be blown up instead. With all of this going on, and with basically everyone else treating him so horribly no matter how intelligent he is and no matter how much he expresses his loyalty to Megatron in both words and deeds (until he realizes how completely he was betrayed) you can understand why he's so angry and such a violent bastard for a good chunk of the series. And he's a big guy, but he's also so young! And from the moment he emerged from a tube you had the closest beings he had to guardians telling him to go kill other guys and not caring about him beyond that! He literally had to teach himself how to read!

Not to mention that in addition to these things about Predaking as an individual, the thing about the extinction of the predacons, like that of our own dinosaurs, is that it was brought on by a completely indifferent cosmic event. I know the main focus of Transformers as a series is on how the Autobot-Decepticon war messed up Cybertron, but tbh I really like the addition of reminders that the universe itself can and will kill you too. Definitely adds another layer to the fucked up nature of warfare; like when you have so much working against you on the cosmic and natural scale, it does show warfare to be incredibly stupid.

I know it's nowhere near canon, but that is one of the reasons why it's my headcanon that Shockwave decided that it would be a logical step to try his hand at bringing back the predacons partially to be weapons of war but mainly because he concluded that restoring their species would be an important step in helping Cybertron recover. I mean, as carnivorous as the predacons were at least THEY never destroyed the biosphere lol.

(tbh I do also like the idea that Predaking comes to develop something of a superiority complex over other cybertronians, at least for awhile, not because of his strength but because of the fact that it was the transformers and not the predacons who deliberately destroyed their home planet).

So yeah, I know that in the show Preaking and the other predacons get all kinds of shit from both Autobots and Decepticons for being violent and savage, but when such statements are coming from bots who quite literally decimated their entire biosphere there's a LOT you could do with pointing out how hollow such accusations ring. It's a very poor predator that destroys the basis of its diet, after all, and I do think there's a really interesting and timely critique you could make on our own globalized civilization as it currently stands by simply noting that for as much as there's been and still is a constant sneering at animals and even many groups of humans for being "dumb" and "uncivilized," the true horror and stupidity lies in having made a civilization and waging never-ending warfare that is literally destroying the basic elements of survival. As such, to me Predaking seems like an great character through to which to both explore a lot of different horrors, but also to offer an alternative ideology to the whole Autobot-Decepticon thing in terms of being like "frag you and your omnicidal drama I want a planet that can give me and mine a good meal every day forever."

[pancakejikook]

This isn’t an ask. I just wanted to say thank you to you for letting others like myself express our disappointment for the upcoming Jeju Are You Sure? episodes. I have been reading a few other blogs and yours seems to be pretty much one of the very few that is willing to let others voice their disappointment and anger.

I am not a huge fan of Tae’s. He has disappointed me so many times with his indifference towards Jimin and his constant need to use Jungkook’s name to what I consider as him feeding his trolls and trying to stay relevant. Just my opinion. Nobody has to agree with me.

I am upset (was angry) for two reasons about these next few episodes 1) because I feel like I was duped. This was presented as a Jikook Show (all 8 episodes) with just Jimin and Jungkook being together to show us more of their relationship, whether we believe it is just platonic or romantic. BUT instead, BH’s marketing staff had to go and decide to make a “guest” appear after what seems like his insistence to be there. They hid this fact and just dropped it on all of us that were turning in to watch a show that only consist of Jimin and Jungkook. 2) I find Tae to be self absorbed most of the time. He had two of his own shows and no one from BTS was a guest in these shows. It seems that he can’t let others have something for themselves. It feels like he must always insert himself into something that doesn’t involve him.

I get it that I am probably going to receive some hate for what I said, but I can’t help the way I feel. And honestly, I don’t care.

Sorry for the length of this. Again, I appreciate you and thank you.

You're very welcome. I think people have the right to feel whatever they feel. The way the company went about this show was definitely sketchy so it's fair that some people would feel deceived. I'm trying to stay positive because in the end the show is still "mostly" only jikook (5 episodes out of 8) and it will still give us lots of endearing moments and further insight into their relationship/dynamics. But at the same time... yeah, it is not as it was advertised.

Personally I don't dislike Tae. I'm aware that some of his behaviors could be seen as problematic, so I get it. But at the same time I have a hard time believing he's being malicious on purpose. My theory is that he simply feels excluded. Vminkook have a compex relationship that has gone through a lot of changes and ups and downs and it's obvious that jikook's evolving relationship (whether it is a romantic relationship or a friendship that got progressively closer) destabilized it. We've seen both vmin and tk go through some rough patches and become "distant" while jikook kept getting closer and closer and that's not a coincidence. I mean if you believe jikook is "real" and you put yourself in Tae's shoes, it must have sucked pretty bad lol. And it probably still does, especially considering jm is his best friend. Yeah I know, some people will think this is not a justification for certain behaviors of his (encouraging tkkers and name dropping jk while embellishing the stories of their encounters) and that's fair. But I also think that if he were really being malicious then jikook wouldn't still be friends with him, you know what I mean?

Of course you don't have to agree but I'm offering my perspective.

[serephinastardust]

You, my root demon

---------

When I hear you call my name,

I shake and shrink and run away.

You trigger voices, deeply menacing,

My instincts die, no bells will ring.

Your anger is like molten fire,

Why, oh why, you don't grow tired.

It haunts my dream, and thoughts unbidden,

The trauma I just want to ridden.

From child to now I try to heal,

Not wanting the past to haunt me hear.

I turn off my thoughts, but that leaves me numb,

How and why did you do this to me.

Memories are black when they should be vibrant,

A colorful tapestry, for me to appreciate.

But instead all I see are pin holes of color,

A portal instead for the demons arrival.

I should not have this primal fear,

I don't think you realize the damage you caused.

But what hurts me the most, ironic it is,

When you are calm, I just want to be near.

I am the child, who has to fear thier father,

Because he couldn't regulate his anger.

But it wasn't because of what you would think,

Disregulating emotions was his trigger.

Things out of place, or things not done right,

People too nosy or people not bright.

But what's worse with this fear,

That it brings me to tear,

How do I function when conflict appears?

I struggle with raised voices,

I struggle with conflict,

If people's auras flair up,

My heart beat will rise.

My legs will shake, and I grow weak in knees,

The tears come unbidden, to these strangers here,

My throat will close up, because I can't let them see,

How broken my trauma has left me here.

My emotions are a burden, because of all this,

Even when I cut you from my life.

But even though cut, you still try to stay in,

With gifts that you thought I would need.

But because of my trauma, I'm cautious of your gifts,

You've gotten angry, because I tried to be free.

You've threatened to stop stuff, you volunteered

freely,

You've called me ungrateful for doing all the could,

I'm a user, abuser of all your goodwill,

Even though I can never say no.

But moving a way has help me heal,

Though I still fear you, your anger is random

I don't have to fear seeing your person,

I don't have to fear hearing your voice.

My mental health issues, are probably not your fault,

You definitely exasperated them, now I'm an adult.

I honestly don't know why I still live,

As living with you I had made 3 attempts.

But some how I'm here, and I don't feel a thing,

Which is terribly sad,

Because this isn't how I pictured my adult self,

Hiding, and unavailable to the world in my home.

Just know you never once told me "i love you",

And i still really don't know what that means.

But I vowed as a child my kids would know,

The words of I love you, from a parents mouth.

A child knows love so unconditionally,

That even if I, an adult, don't know its meaning,

At least the children I say, will instinctually know.

So I will stop part of this generational curse,

Because what you have done has been extremely cruel.

P.s

The one and only memory I have of you saying,

These three words, "I love you",

I was an adult about thirty, and it shocked me.

The whole household stopped and just stared.

After being disowned, gaslighted and more,

I didn't know how to react to that.

But all I could think was who was this man,

What had he done with his indifference.

Did he think three word at thirty,

Would make up for my childhood trauma.

But toxic is as toxic does,

And it wasn't long before he did me dirty.

And ao he lives with my void once again,

And maybe when dead, we'll try again then.

[bumblebeerror]

Yeah, anon, I’m not gonna answer that. I don’t want to post graphic descriptions of murder and maiming randomly.

If you don’t read anything else I’ve written, legitimately, whatever. Please read this next bit.

I mean this in the most genuine and objective way possible, from someone who has struggled with depression for over half my life: you sound severely clinically depressed and should consider seeing a psychiatrist and/or cognitive behavioral therapist.

If you refuse to get therapy, try a hobby. Hard to have something to talk to someone about if they have zero things they’re passionate about. Hard to want to leave your bed if there’s nothing to get up for.

Messaging someone first because you have a crush on them is not the same as reaching out to people you want to befriend. If you do not participate in friendship people will struggle to carry all the weight in any form of friendship/relationship with you.

If you enjoy not having friends, feel free to ignore my advice. No skin off my nose. I only tried to let you know the things I needed bashed into my head at 20, things I wasn’t smart enough to learn properly till I was 24. Just know you get what you give.

The rest is just summarizing the previous points made. I don’t really care if you read that bit, it’s not particularly important considering your clear mental distress you laid out in the latter half of your message, but it’s there.

I’ve no interest in baring my tragic backstory just so you understand that kindness doesn’t mean niceness.

Kindness recognizes that by being alive, a person -EVERY person, has needs - regardless of their actions - and while fufillment of those needs may need to be adjusted based on what someone has done in the past, kindness recognizes those needs regardless and in return treats them as people with needs rather than defaulting to anger or indifference.

Including the need for dignity, self esteem, pride in oneself, bodily autonomy, and the very basic respect that one’s manners dictate.

Prisons are set up, on their surface, to rehabilitate. I don’t know how to explain that the current prison system does not do that, but instead works prisoners as cheap labor for USA made goods, neglects their medical and psychological needs, and allows or even facilitates violence from other prisoners and even guards. That’s clearly not an ideal place to learn how to be a better person, hence the attitude that once one is imprisoned they are now completely and permanently regarded as a criminal and nothing else, ensuring that they will not get their needs met and will continue to to be held in the system. The people you listed off that are convicted of their crimes are sentenced to months years or lifetimes of unmet needs and repeated, incessant trampling of their personhood - and kindness believes that to be a punishment much worse than any crime - because I just described government sanctioned torture.

Bigoted folks are still people. I see no positives to be earned from ignoring someone who needs help. Hearts aren’t changed by indifference.

Ive never said that you must treat people who have done terrible things nicely. I’ve never said they should be given special treatment. I have said over. And over. And over. That I believe they deserve The Bare Fucking Minimum of their needs met.

In absence of this basic idea that people have needs that should be met as much as possible, it becomes incredibly difficult to champion basic human rights, especially for folks who are not perfect examples of their minorities - disabled folks who are noncompliant with treatment, autistic folks who are nonverbal or high support needs or lack empathy or don’t have savant syndrome. Queer folks who don’t conform to gender norms. Angry black folks, PoC in general who commit crimes for any reason, poor folks who act like “trailer trash”. Without the basic understanding that despite their behaviour, these people have needs that should be met, we set an astronomical standard for who within a minority “deserves” to have those needs met.

I am not here to teach you what your parents did not.

You converse like the larval form of Human Pet Guy. I hope you don’t turn out like that dude. Good luck 🫡

[nerdyqueerandjewish]

Tw for past non-suicidal self injury

Since there’s more distance now and I’m in a good place I can examine my childhood and teen years more objectively and actually mourn the bad parts instead of trying to push them away. And like, I just wish I could be a support person for my past self because I can see how I was failed by many adults around me and that it matters, even if other people had other needs. The primary tool I had for regulating my emotions was self injury which already breaks my heart, but at its worst I would injure my face, and like no adult ever really talked to me about it or intervened? My mom once was like “what is that?” and I was like “nothing” and it was basically dropped, and idk the whole interaction seemed like it came from an angry/upset place that I was doing something wrong, and not a compassionate place. And I eventually got out of my longest run with it because my boyfriend thought it was gross. I basically stopped because I was shamed out of it, and I found more socially acceptable ways to be destructive. And idk I wish I had stopped because people cared about my well being and not because I was shamed.

Also it’s just like, my brain was already not doing well obviously, but what does a person learn and pick up when they are using their limited tools to essentially screaming that something is wrong and they need help and finds indifference or disgust. I want to be a good adult for them.

[thedragonagelesbian]

Okay since your asks were so fun, I’m going to do the same for you and ask the LI classes for the dnd character class asks:

Barb, Druid, and Warlock for Cyrus

Paladin and Cleric (👀) for Yiseeril

eee thank you!!!

d&d character class asks

Cyrus (answering for pallybarb for the first two and ranger for the third)

barbarian: What makes your muse angry? How do they manage their anger? Has their rage ever led them to destroy something important?

In typical lawful good fashion, the things that make Cyrus the angriest are things like injustice, cruelty, indifference toward others, greed, etc. Above all else what makes him furious is hurting the people he cares about.

Initially, like a lot of his negative emotions, instead of managing his anger, Cyrus just kind of swallows it (unless he can easily smite its source). It's only through meeting Karlach and having her teach him how to be a barbarian that he learns how to make that anger productive, but it takes a lot of work. No matter how hard Karlach pushes him to get him to rage during their sparring sessions, he can't unlock his emotions until someone else is at risk (I usually imagine Halsin as the one who volunteers to be Karlach's prop). The first couple of times Cyrus does rage, it's very overwhelming and disorienting, since it undoes so much of the self-possession and self-control that he prides himself on... but Karlach & Halsin call him a good boy, which makes everything better.

And. You know. The dialogue option that broke Cyrus' oath was a barbarian option. So there's always that :)

druid: How does your muse interact with the natural world? Are they good with animals? Plants? Do they keep any pets?

I don't think pallybarb!Cyrus had a ton of thoughtful interaction with nature pre-game. He'd do some adventuring in the woods around Baldur's Gate and along the Chionthar, but he hadn't yet discovered his love for gardening. The Grove was a... mixed experience. On the one hand, I think it sparked a very starry-eyed admiration for druidic magics. On the other, their treatment of the tiefling refugees and Kagha's dealings with the Shadow Druids upset him greatly.

So meeting Halsin and hearing how he talks about nature and being able to help him heal the Shadowlands are pivotal for Cyrus, laying the groundwork for him to (centuries down the line) become an Oath of the Ancients paladin at Halsin's side.

As a wild heart barbarian, he can cast speak with animals and does so constantly. I think he and Halsin get some little planters going in the Elfsong Tavern in Act 3 so being stuck in the city doesn't feel quite so maddening for Halsin, and that's how Cyrus discovers his green thumb.

Re pets: Avernus isn't a. Great environment for that lol. I think Scratch stays with Shadowheart post-game (Cyrus has always had a mild phobia of dogs anyway...) and the owlbear goes with Halsin until Cyrus and Karlach return and take it on their adventures across Faerun.

warlock: Has your muse ever made a deal to get something they wanted? Is there anything your muse wants enough to broker for it? What would your muse sacrifice to get what they want?

Cyrus' preoccupation with being self-sufficient (ranger!Cyrus even more so) gives him a decent measure of resistance against temptation, but FUCK does he come close to making a stupid deal with Raphael after the Emperor threatens to make him a thrall. Raphael offers him not just a night of respite from the Emperor's omnipresence--pervasive and heavy even when the Emperor isn't exerting its will over Cyrus--but as many nights and sweet dreams as he wants until the Elder Brain is defeated... in exchange for Cyrus being Raphael's locus of control on the Council of Chosen through influencing Duke!Wyll. And Cyrus would sooner damn his soul to the Hells than compromise Wyll, so the deal is functionally equivalent to condemning himself to the House of Hope, and as panicked as he is, Cyrus is cognizant of that fact.

...And he seriously considers the deal anyway.

And even though he ultimately rejects it, he does still make the deal to trade the Crown of Karsus for getting the Orphic Hammer immediately. And it's never far from hand.

Self-sacrifice is still instinctive for Cyrus, even if he's tried so hard to break himself of that habit.

Yiseeril

paladin: What does your muse fight for? What tenets or oaths drive them? Have they ever had to break a vow, and if they have, why?

Yiseeril fights for herself, for her friends, for power, and for the bit. The closest thing to a tenet or oath that drives her is power good, but even that is. Flexible, given that there's very much a timeline where that pursuit is tempered.

I think if Yiseeril makes a vow, she either (a) is being a lying liar about it & thus breaking it doesn't hold any moral weight for her or (b) believes it with her whole irradiated chest & thus would never want to break it (i.e., her vow to Minthara that she'll stay with her & that they'll take over the Absolute together).

The one exception might be the vows she took when she became a Haruspex of Oghma. Certainly post-tadpole-ing she's stopped observing any rituals or complying with the strict mandates of her abbey or even praying to Oghma except in moments of crisis, but I think she's still following the spirit of those vows to protect, preserve, and pursue knowledge and to embody the voice of creativity.

cleric: Does your muse believe in any god or follow any religion? What drives their faith? Or, if they're faithless, why? What would it take for them to find faith in something or someone?

/big flashing neon sign that says IT'S COMPLICATED/

Nothing is so emblematic of Yiseeril's fundamental uncertainty and unmooring like her relationship to faith. She was (obviously) a follower of Oghma, raised by an order of monks called the Children of the Passive Voice who trained her relentlessly from birth to undergo the rite for which the sect was named-- one that would make her the one 'true' conduit for Oghma's divine and infinite knowledge on the Material Plane.

The ritual succeeded somewhat but left her mind broken and her divinity fallen until the tadpole returned some measure of autonomy to her, and now....................................

?????????????????????

Yiseeril hasn't had any time to grow out of the 'world's best sacrificial lamb' mindset that she was raised in, feeding an aching desire to be loved by a god any god it doesn't have to be Oghma she flirts with the Absolute's love with Shar's love with anything that will have her.

But. She is also painfully aware of how divinity has ruined her. And the only thing she hates more than Oghma--for failing her, for allowing his followers to destroy her, for not saving her--is the fact that he seems to be protecting her now. The fact that every time she reaches out to him--for spells, for blessings, for shelter in a moment of panic--he answers. The fact that everything she does feels like service to him. Her curiosity. Her thirst for knowledge. Her music and her bard magic and her creativity and her inspiration, she wants it to be for herself, but it still feels like worship.

Like the engraving you find the Chapel of Jergal: through knowledge comes atonement.

She finds faith more readily in her new friends, and in Minthara in particular (gay). It gives her something to hold onto when the cognitive dissonance of her relationship to Oghma gets too overwhelming.

[blorbocedes]

toto should not do george about it no one should do george about it! toto should just give him a very perfunctory well done and then nothing. no debrief no meetings no information about the car. lewis and toto should have a very intimate conversation where toto has his hand on lewis's waist right in front of him talking quietly enough that he can't hear any of it.

oh I like this so much... big fan of no one doing george...

george tapping his foot in nervous tension, he wants toto to be mad at him so he has a 100 rehearsed lines about how p3 is good for the team, for the sprint; and he'll make it up to toto for binning the car. not to take responsibility and apologize, no, but offer reasonable justification. repeat what he likes to say, 'no points for quali.' if someone's attacking you, you get to defend yourself; but if no one is... and maybe they Should be then it puts the onus of self reflection on you... and george doesn't want to look inward. he's scared of what he might see (the crack in the unquestioning self belief that he's always the Good Guy, who is Doing what it Takes)

toto just says a perfunctory (lovely word usage) congratulations on p3 and moves on. completely blank and indifferent, and george is like oh he must be Real pissed at me, and doesn't wanna show it in front of engineers and staff -- that's fine, he can just Logic and Rationalize his way out.

george goes to lewis, that it's a shame his lap time was cut but they'll make it up in the race. maybe make a joke about holding kevin behind. he knows lewis can be touchy about teammates crashing during quali to end up in a better position than him. instead, lewis just says, "better drivers would've done the same" a pat on his shoulder and walks away. the sheer dismissiveness of the way lewis treats him, that he's wall decor, like it doesn't bother lewis at all that george is beating him, like he doesn't matter enough to get mad about. and the shade of 'better drivers'

he's full of nervous energy all throughout the debriefs and sticks around, waiting for toto to call on him. get verbally reamed out. some part of him thinks he deserves it. instead, he sees lewis and toto speaking; and they don't notice he's there. toto who is comforting lewis, it seems like, toto who readily apologizes to lewis, who admits they've given him a shit car he does not deserve, a team principal who would go bat for his driver no matter. and it's not about first driver, because technically, in order of points -- that makes it george, no, there is a fondness and a respect between them that george will never get from toto. at least toto being angry at him means he knows george is there, a thing to be mad at. it's worse, still being an outsider when he's finally inside; to be invisible in your own team. he could break a thousand cars in this moment and it wouldn't matter, beyond the headache it would cause merc's accountant.

[doueverwonder]

What about Jack and Alfred's relationship? Also, I really like your account :D

OKAY BUT LIKE; Jack was obviously born after Alfred had left. He was William's rebound kid like "oh well! Guess that one didn't work out might as well have another!" but like, a lot more bitter than I can sound through text. Y'know and then Will proceeded to not raise said rebound kid.

That's where Jack's resentment to Alfred starts. Because 'I only exist cause he isn't here'; then there is the William constantly praising Alfred despite acting like he hates him. So then poor Jack is even more confused because??? Do you want me to be nothing like him, or do you want me to be just like him??? or?????

Meanwhile; on the other side of the ocean Alfred is only vaguely aware of Jack's existence, like they don't have a relationship and any semblance of something Jack thinks is a relationship is one-sided on his part.

anyway, their relationship finally starts when Alfred sends Jack (who's probably like 8 btp) a Christmas present. Like out of nowhere, and Matt or Dylan or idk who is like "You need to send him a thank you letter". Jack proceeds to take two months to write this thing because friends, I've never spoken to him before. But eventually its sent. and Alfred decides instead of just letting it be? to send one back? and for like a solid year all of these letters are just 'thank you' 'it's not problem' 'well you took the time to send it' 'it really didn't take that much of an effort I'm just happy you like it' cause neither of them know what to say to each other?????

it takes awhile but eventually they get to other topics, just random things here and there. The letters are consistent but they are something; Jack goes from not liking/being indifferent about Al, to idk, thinking he's pretty cool? Like? He told dad to fuck off and got away with it??? what???? Alfred starts to think Jack is pretty cool too, like bro this kid is possibly the most metal ten yr old known to man?? And he gives dear ol' dad 2.3 heart attacks a day, which is super funny to Al. All good things must come to an end though, and at some point the letter pitter out. I'm thinking like sometime during the Spanish-American war, cause Al came out a super power and in a dick move promptly forgot about little old Jack. It was a two sided thing though, Jack became self-governing and Lord Father wasn't happy about it and basically kicked him out at the age of 13-ish; so he had bigger things to worry about.

Alfred showed back up during WW1 but not really long enough for them to do anything but acknowledge each other before Alfred was back to being an introvert.

WW2 rolls around, the US joins the war and Alfred shows up (begrudgingly) to help Jack and Liam, who are in my hc about 16 and 12. England was very worried about them. Now, Jack is angry about stuff, and he's so worried about keeping Liam safe, and I haven't talked to Mattie or dad or uncle Dylan or Uncle Angus in weeks are they okay???? So despite the fact that for at the very least a few months they're together 24/7 they don't really bond; Jack is stuck between "I need to protect Liam" and "I don't know what I'm doing, I can't protect myself much less someone else" that he just ends up being mad and stubborn while Alfred who's instincts have already added these two children to his Protect At All Costs list is just confused because??? I'm just trying to keep you two safe why do you hate me???

eventually the war ends (thank god); now Liam during the war just added Alfred to his list of People To Cling To Randomly. Alfred was at the bottom of the list albeit, but he was on it. Jack however just got wary of Alfred. He was trustworthy sure, but, this whole thing was technically his first impression of Alfred. and in the middle of a war is not the best time to get a first impression.

by the time the mid-fifties rolled around Alfred in-between stare offs with Ivan decided it was time to actually spend time with his younger two siblings. and this my friends, is when Alfred and Jack finally became the crackhead duo they are; it's not perfect it's really not. But they do get along pretty well, they get in the stupidest arguments like how to make the best pb&j or who Matthieu likes more. Jack rambles about animals for 45 min straight while Alfred listens intently then Alfred rambles about space for 45 min straight while Jack listens intently. It's the only time either of them can sit still that long. combined they give dear ol' dad 4.6 heart attacks a day. There will always be the age gap obviously, and there'll always be the over-arching problem of William and his favoritism. but idk, I think they'll be ok.

[ina-nis]

Aren’t you a sore loser?

When you deal with rejection - either directly or indirectly - don’t you just lower your head and take it?

You don’t even ask yourself why anymore, do you? Before, you could do that; before, you used to think it was your fault for something you did, or didn’t do, because of your manners or appearance, because of your interests and whatnot.

Now, it’s just like... “Ok, so we’re done here. Thank you for everything.”

You don’t insist. You don’t resist. You just take it.

You can’t be a proper friend either, because the natural progression of friendships for you is romantic love.

Some people are just looking for friends, nothing more.

Thus, rejection nonetheless.

For most people you have met, you’re more suited for a friendship. And you take it, knowing the heartbreak is just a matter of time, because you always get involved with unavailable people anyway.

Is that why when you “go out there”, even if you’re socializing and talking to many people, you still feel like a ghost, as if they were seeing right through you?

Because you can’t possibly be fit for a romantic relationship?

Because all your worth is to be a good friend?

And you take it.

You’re supposed to love yourself and all these other self-help tips. “Being lonely isn’t so bad, embrace solitude! Just get a new hobby or a plant.”

And you take it.

People owe you nothing. Not their time, nor their energy. They don’t need to have a relationship with you if they don’t want to and they definitely don’t need to date you or any other person.

And you take it.

The past and present experiences keep on tormenting you, going over and over, like a broken record - surely there will be something there you’ll be able to use, there will be some kind of proof you can show your brain to tell it how wrong those thoughts are, it’s all just useless negativity and pessimism.

A reality check? Well, this is all because of your disordered behaviours and disordered thinking and disordered interactions causing disordered connections that don’t last. People can sense that, so of course they will not want to involve themselves with such person.

And you take it.

You can’t make demands or have desires. You can’t get angry for being only considered fit for friendships (if anything at all).

It’s not about you.

Because you’re worthless (because you associate your worth to these few and negative things, instead of focusing on all the other more uplifting facets of yourself).

And you take it. And you numb your feelings so they don’t hurt you anymore. People can’t hurt you anymore because you expect nothing from them.

It started with desperation, then pleads, then bitterness and resentment...

Then you grow more and more cynical. Indifferent. Like nothing really matters much at his point and if they haven’t changed despite all attempts at different treatments and approaches, it’s hard to believe they ever will.

[selfhelpchampion]

Loving the Unlovable: Cultivating Compassion for Challenging People

We've all had strained relationships that left us feeling frustrated, hurt or angry. Whether it's a temperamental relative, demanding manager or flaky friend, dealing with difficult people is unavoidable. So how can we handle these relationships in a constructive way, without being overwhelmed by negative emotions? Ancient Buddhist wisdom provides timeless advice on cultivating patience, care and insight - even towards those who upset us most. 

Seeing Our Shared Humanity

The Buddhist thinker Shantideva once asked, "Why do you get angry when others insult you, yet remain indifferent when the same happens to someone else?" His question encourages self-reflection on why we tolerate mistreatment of others, yet react strongly when we feel personally slighted. This double standard comes naturally, but also worsens conflicts. So how can we move beyond self-centered reactions to nurture goodwill and care for all - even "unlovable" individuals?

The first step is acknowledging our universal capacity for mistakes. As Shantideva wisely noted, "Some act wrongly out of ignorance, while others get angry out of ignorance." All people grapple with harmful impulses and knee-jerk reactions at times. These stem from delusions like insecurity, prejudice and strong dislikes that we have yet to overcome. By having patience not just for others' faults, but also our own, we can replace judgment with empathy. 

When we admit our shared struggles, another's offensive behavior feels less like a personal attack than a reflection of their own unresolved pain. This reduces feelings of insult and makes space for understanding. With compassion for our common humanity outweighing resentment, we can approach tensions through open dialogue rather than retaliation.  

Taking Responsibility for Our Reactions

While understanding others' humanity, Shantideva also taught that our emotions spring more from within than without: "It is your anger that conquers you, not your opponent." When someone provokes us, it's easy to see them as the sole source of our hurt. But in truth, how we interpret situations plays a bigger role than others’ intent in determining our reactions. 

By recognizing destructive emotions as products of our perceptions, not just external events, we regain power over our responses. Rather than staying hostage to someone else’s behavior, we can choose our attitudes mindfully. For instance, a passing comment may sting our pride and rouse bitterness. But if we understand self-image as fluid rather than fixed, the same remark disrupts our inner peace less. 

Letting Go of Expectations and Attachments

Many strained bonds involve unmet hopes that morph into resentment over time. We often want people to fit neatly into roles in our lives, then feel disappointed when reality fails to align. As Shantideva wrote, "If I get angry at the wielder of the stick instead of...the stick itself, it makes little sense." Here, the stick symbolizes external events, like others’ actions, while the wielder depicts our internal landscape shaping how situations affect us. 

By differentiating the two, we recognize that other people's behavior doesn't define our value or govern our well-being. This allows releasing rigid beliefs and seeing everyone as complex beings deserving of care regardless of their actions. For instance, we can empathize with a flaky friend’s deeper personal struggles instead of just condemning their behavior. 

Overall, dropping fixed expectations and attachments is key to avoiding bitterness and finding fulfillment in relationships without demanding others meet preconceived standards. This adaptable mindset fosters understanding by acknowledging each person’s uniqueness and capacity for growth. 

The Power of Forgiveness

Anger often springs from obsessing over old wounds, but as impermanence teaches, the past is gone. "Since everything depends on karma, there is little point harboring grudges," Shantideva acknowledged. Rather than revisiting others’ transgressions, we can practice forgiveness - a gift of compassion to ourselves and others. By releasing desires for vengeance, we halt cycles of retaliation and create space for reconciliation. 

To forgive challenging people, we may need to consciously understand their viewpoint instead of just our own. We can also recognize their ability to learn and change for the better with patience and care. The alternative - staying estranged - typically breeds more pain. Though difficult, working through conflicts constructively is healthier for all involved. Ultimately, forgiveness helps free people to relate peacefully without lingering resentments poisoning interactions. 

Finding Common Ground

When tensions flare, it’s easy to split issues into "right vs. wrong" camps. But most disputes contain nuance hiding beneath polarization. By softening extreme stances, we uncover shared interests and creative solutions not apparent initially. 

Even with very contrary perspectives, seeking to comprehend an opposing position often reveals some validity along with room for compromise. This humbler approach allows discussing issues calmly and exploring mutually agreeable outcomes. With consistent good faith, seemingly intractable differences give way to discovered interdependence and common cause. Reframing disputes with empathy transforms head-butting egos into collaborators navigating difficulties together. 

Overall, leading with open hearts over inflexible agendas paves the way for addressing matters helpfully, not hatefully. Though requiring diligence, even relationships marred by major breaches of trust can become occasions for mutual understanding and growth rather than lasting resentment. 

Cultivating Inner Peace

Buddhist thought helps us recognize that happiness relies chiefly on mindset - not others’ actions which we can't control. Understanding our shared struggles breeds tolerance rather than contempt for shortcomings. By taking responsibility for our reactions, we gain freedom from letting other people determine our inner tranquility. The art of forgiveness and seeking accord over attack opens doors to reconciliation that seemed permanently shut. 

With care and wisdom, even very difficult people become teachers helping us cultivate patience, resilience and compassion. Gradually, these inner breakthroughs blossom into an abiding sense of peace capable of weathering life’s inevitable ups and downs. Guided by goodwill, we can transform relationships from sources of anguish into opportunities for self-mastery, mutual healing and human growth beyond old limitations.