#best whisky investment

[caskwhisky]

Explore the world of whisky investment with our comprehensive guide, uncovering the best cask investments in 2024.

From the pros and cons of alternative investments to expert tips on starting your whisky investment journey, discover how to navigate the market and maximize your returns.

[iamcalmdammit]

Positive || [Simon "Ghost" Riley x f!reader]

Summary: Ghost finds out you're pregnant with his child.

Warning: None. Fluffish angst.

Ghost stormed into your room without a warning and slammed the door after himself so violently that the whole room shaked in its wake. You almost had a heart attack, but quickly recovered enough to jump up and watch him with arms crossed over your chest, giving him the best disapproving look you could pull off in this situation.

In reality your heart was beating way too fast, as if it was about to escape from between your ribs. There were so many things left unsaid between the two of you that now you hated the thought of being alone with the lieutenant. Every single time you were paired up with him on a mission, you tried your best to stay invisible--you followed his orders without a word and kept communication to the bare minimum.

But now you had no chance to run away from him. You watched his chest rise and fall as he breathed, his eyes locked on you as he waited for something. You didn't dare to ask what it was all about, afraid it would only enrage him. Then your eyes moved to his hand and you realized he was holding a smaller paper bag. What was this all about?

"Are you feeling better?" he suddenly asked you.

At first you didn't know what in the hell he was talking about, but then you remembered. You hadn't felt well in the morning and asked Price to let you rest for a while. But that was a private conversation, you weren't expecting him to tell everyone about your medical issues.

Ghost suddenly took a step closer to you as he waited for your answer. Why did he have to be so damn intimidating? "I do, thanks," you managed to say after a little too long. "Did you come here just to ask me that?" you wondered out loud.

Shaking his head, Ghost threw the paper bag to you. You gave him a surprised look, but instead of answering, he only motioned you to take a look inside. So you opened the bag and found two pregnancy tests in it. What the hell was he doing?

"I'll wait," was all he said.

"What are you talking about?"

"I remember my sister-in-law's symptoms from the time she was pregnant," he explained calmly, although it was easy to tell he was all tensed up. "Let's see if I'm right. I brought two just to be sure."

"Even if I was pregnant--which I'm definitely not--what would you have to do with it?"

His gloved fingers curled into a fist as he considered what to say. You had a feeling that you already knew why he was so invested in this theory, but a part of you wished you were wrong. "You're working under my command, sergeant, I need to know if you're pregnant or not. I wouldn't want anything to happen to you or the baby."

"And you think that's the way to do it?" you asked, relieved to hear it was just that. "If I found out I was pregnant, I would tell Price who would then pass the news on to you."

Shaking his head, Ghost drew in a sharp breath which he soon blew out slowly to even his breathing. "That's not the right way to do it if I'm the father," he then said.

This was exactly what you were afraid to hear. Once--just once you both lost control and slept together after drinking some of the Scotch whisky Soap brought with him straight from home. That was the first and so far only time he took off the mask in front of you, too lost in the desire and alcoholic haze to think straight anymore.

Letting out a sigh, you ran a hand through your hair. "Ghost, that only happened once, what makes you think--"

"Have you slept with anyone beside me in the past weeks?" he interrupted you harshly.

"That's none of your business," you replied defensively.

The answer was simple: you didn't. You lacked the time and energy to go out and meet new people, but you were too proud to admit you didn't really have a life outside of work. Sure, you visited your family every now and then, but you didn't have friends in the traditional sense of the word.

Ghost saw through you without a problem. "So you did not," he stated before pointing at the bag in your hand. "Do the test. Now."

"Don't make me do this."

"Y/N," he warned you with a growl.

You closed your eyes for a second to think. Running away would have been an issue. He was standing in your way, and even if you managed to escape, where would you go? So you nodded and went to the bathroom to do as he ordered.

The minutes were passing painfully slowly. As you sat there on the floor, your eyes fixed on the two tests, you began to think about your options. Were you ready to be a parent? Would you have to do it alone? Ghost being here and looking so concerned made you think he would want to be a part of the child's life.

But how would that work with your line of work? You didn't want to quit, to give up your current lifestyle for having a family. As of this moment your maternal instincts were nonexistent, you couldn't even imagine what it would be like to be a parent. To be a single mom, no less.

When your phone began to vibrate next to you, you knew it was time to find out the truth. You took a deep breath, held it in for a few seconds, then slowly exhaled. You got this. It was definitely food poisoning, nothing more. Ghost was just being paranoid. You crawled over to the tests and took a look at them.

Fuck.

A minute or two later you were snapped out of your thoughts by a banging sound. Ghost was growing impatient as he had previously checked how much time it would take. He knew you knew the result by now.

"So?" he asked when you opened the door and stepped out of the bathroom.

"Negative," you told him with a forced smile.

"Both of them?"

You nodded. "Yes."

Ghost didn't seem convinced because he shook his head and held out his hand. "Let me see."

"I threw them out."

"Oh, for fuck's sake," he groaned before pushing you out of the way and marching into the bathroom. Closing your eyes, you walked over to your bed and sat down on the edge, mentally preparing for what was about to come. "They are positive!" Ghost shouted, showing you the two tests when he got back to you.

Raising your hands defensively, you gulped and tried your best to calm him down. "Okay, now, don't be mad," you said quietly.

"How in the hell wouldn't I get mad, huh? You lied into my face," he snapped after he threw the tests on a nearby table. After letting out a long sigh, he sat on the bed next to you and reached out to wipe your tears away. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to yell at you, I just…"

Shaking your head, you took one of his gloved hand in yours and watched it in silence. Even now that he was furious, Ghost was keeping himself under strict control. The night you spent together was probably the only time you saw him let loose for a short while. But you were pregnant. The two of you would have a child of you decided to keep it, and this was a matter that had to be discussed.

Before you could say anything, you saw him take off the mask and carefully put it aside. "Do you want this child?" he asked softly.

"I don't know. Right now the answer is closer to no," you admitted. "What about you?"

He thought about it for a while, but eventually he said, "I had a poor excuse of a father growing up so I promised myself that if I ever had the chance, I would be a good dad to my kid."

"So the answer is yes," you noted before you let out a humming sound. "We need to think about it. We are in this together, it would be selfish of me to make this decision on my own."

"So let's do that," Ghost told you with a smile, his free hand reaching up to caress your cheek as he spoke.

A part of you hated him for acting like this, being so gentle and considerate. You couldn't blame him for losing control, though, but you sure as hell didn't want to experience it again.

Before you knew it, he had his lips on yours, cautiously testing if you were okay with him kissing you. You were more than okay with it. You wanted him ever since that night, you had an overwhelming need every single time you were near each other. Just a simple touch of the hands would have been enough to make you burst into flames.

"I want you to go home now," he suddenly told you.

"Ghost, you–"

"Simon. I'm the father of your child, you can't keep calling me Ghost when we're alone," the lieutenant said, sounding surprisingly vulnerable. "And I know you don't want to go anywhere, but you need to see a doctor. I'll talk to Price."

Shaking your head, you squeezed his hand and gulped loudly. "You can't tell him. Please, let's not tell anyone."

He smiled at you briefly before leaning over to kiss you again, this time settling for a quick, soft kiss. "He already has his own suspicions, don't worry. And I won't tell anyone else apart from him, okay? Trust me," he added.

"Won't you get into trouble for getting your sergeant pregnant?" you suddenly asked.

After licking his lower lip nervously, Ghost shook his head. "Price won't make a big deal out of it hopefully, and we can tell the others you have a boyfriend back home."

Nodding, you accepted his words. You rested your head on his broad shoulder and thought about the next step. Now that you know he wanted this child, it was up to you to make your own decision.

"Can I go and talk to Price with you?" you suddenly asked.

Ghost took your hand. "Sure. Maybe it's for the better."

Soon you were standing in front of the captain like two students who did something wrong and now had to go see the principal. Well, in a military sense you actually did something wrong, so no wonder you felt like that. You could tell even Ghost was tense, although it wasn't as obvious as it could have been without the mask.

But Price understood. He scolded Ghost for all of this, sure, but apart from that he seemed happy for the two of you. "Ghost, you go with her. If anyone asks, I'll tell them you're making sure she gets home safe," he said in the end.

"Captain, I can go alone. I'll keep Ghost updated," you promised.

Shaking his head, Price pointed at Ghost. "His head will be with you. If he can't focus on the mission, he's no use for us."

And he was right. You couldn't risk others' lives because of this. Ghost apparently understood this as well, because he let out a sigh and said, "All right, I'll go with her. Thank you."

•••••••••••••

taglist: @untoldshortsofthefandoms

[mslanna]

Here is a Raphael x Tav prompt for you:

"I thought you died, you bastard!"

As you wish, Nonny. As you wish. 😊

they/them Tav without body configuration sfw, slightly spicy towards the end read it on AO3

Death and What Comes After

"I thought you were dead, you bastard!" Tav stomped through the Devil's Den with angry strides, crossing the short distance quickly. "You hear me? Dead! I thought you were fucking DEAD!" Their voice rose in cadence and volume with every word uttered.

Without thinking, Tav had grabbed the front of Raphael's doublet. They shook the devil who allowed it with a slight frown.

"Yes," he finally drawled, taking Tav's hands and stopping them short with a strong grip. "That was the idea."

The words froze Tav on the spot. Their hands hung limp in his hold and all tension seeped out of them. Tav shook their head slowly while their shoulders slumped.

It took Raphael a moment to realise they muttered under their breath so quietly it almost escaped even his infernal ears. No. Tav repeated it over and over like an incantation. He let go of their hands that dropped to Tav's sides like stones and turned to pour a generous shot of whisky.

"Here." He held the tumbler out to the mortal. "Maybe that will help."

Tav sniffed the glass suspiciously. It smelled of strong alcohol. How was that supposed to help? On the other hand, did it even matter? Unblinking they gulped down its contents. A mistake but one they would not show. Tav's throat burned like fire. It sure distracted them from the unbridled rage that had carried them here.

"Better?" The devil's condescending tone fanned Tav's fire.

"Not. One. Bit." They bit out. "I left you alive you son of a bitch! I made sure you'd get out. And you-" Tav broke off. Spelled out loud, their reasoning showed subtle flaws. They held out the tumbler again and Raphael refilled it silently.

This time Tav took it a little slower. The pain trickling down their throat was an excellent distraction from the thoughts that lined up neatly in their brain. It was possible that Raphael had not discerned their reasoning. But did he really believe they'd ever make a deal with a devil? Even if it was not for their soul. It was a slippery slope. Tav held out the glass again.

"I think you had enough for now." Raphael set the bottle back down on the sideboard. When Tav made a lunge for it, he stopped them as easily as he had held their hands prisoner. In his human for the devil was a lot stronger than he looked.

"None of that now," he tutted. "Regain your manners and maybe we can discuss another shot."

Tav stared into their empty glass. The fire had moved from throat and stomach into their whole body. It merged nicely with the anger already bubbling there. "Thought you were dead," they mumbled again.

"I thought you were DEAD!" It's a scream this time and with the last word, Tav hurtled the glass at Raphael's head.

The missile popped out of existence just before it reached the devil and Tav looked around for something else to throw. When there was nothing, they threw themself instead. With fist flying they went at the devil.

Raphael caught them easily. The alcohol made Tav sloppy and their arms lolled about in the devil's grip as they writhed to free themself.

"Whatever are you trying to achieve?" His patience was running thin. This mortal had seemed like a good investment, right up until they refused his deal and stole the Orphic Hammer.

That Tav let him live would be their last mistake. But it would be a slow process. A delicacy to draw out over decades. Sweet suffering that tormented Tav until they'd crawl to his door to beg for a deal. A deal he would refuse. A smile stole to his lips. As tempting as it was to destroy them here and now, revenge was best served as a prolonged buffet.

"Revenge?" Tav snapped. "I let you live. I get that bloody, stupid, gods-damned, heavy ass crown that's rotti-"

"You what?" Raphael clapped a hand over the blabbering mouth. The crown was lost when the Elderbrain was defeated. It had vanished and his best efforts had been unable to discover it. He had had his money on Mystra and that wizard, but neither had a trace of it. He lowered his glare back to Tav. The mortal stared at him with big eyes, mouth very still under his palm.

He removed his hand slowly. "You have the Crown of Karsus?"

"'f course," Tav mumbled and cast their eyes down, away from his hot gaze. "Defeated the stupid brain thing and there it was y'know. All shiny and – well, wet because I had to fish it up from the Chionthar, yes?"

"You did not give it to your wizard?" Raphael was proud how little of his strain showed through his voice. Though Tav might have been to inebriated to notice.

"Gale?" Tav lauched. "Hells no! I'd never! Gods are horrible things and Gales is my friend. I'd never wish such a fate on him. He's happy now."

Silence fell and Raphael counted the beats of his heart by the blood roaring in his ears. "And?" he finally prompted.

"And what?" Tav blinked, their eyes slightly glazed.

He should not have allowed them a second whisky. Raphael sighed inwardly. "You fished the crown out of the river and then?" Raphael asked as gently as his impatience allowed.

"Oh. I put is under the sink. Nobody ever looks under the sink except they want to clean. Nobody wants to clean my place. Not even me. So-"

Raphael clamped his hand back over Tav's mouth. He was this close. Not only to the crown but also to strangling the infuriating mortal. Under their sink. All this time he had hunted for the crown in every corner of the material planes and the hells. While it sat idly and unprotected in Tav's home.

"And you did not seek me out-"

"Because I thought you were dead you bastard!" Tav bit free from his grasp. "You bloody, fucking rat bastard!" They hiccuped on the last words, swallowing hard and looking away.

Still Raphael caught the glitter of water in their eyes. Not just anger. Grief? Relief? He took a step back and looked Tav over. Their anger seemed once more to simmer under the surface. Yet Tav breathed hard and sniffled to themself.

"You did not rejoice in my death then."

"If I would have rejoiced, I wouldn't have let you live," Tav snuffled. "Didn't want you dead. Don't want you dead. Glad you're alive." Their eyes flickered uncertain and came to rest on the bottle of whisky.

"You – grieved?" Raphael asked, taking the whisky for safekeeping.

"Yeh." Tav didn't look away from the amber liquid sloshing inside the bottle. "Rat bastard weren't even dead."

The wheels in Raphael's mind turned ferociously. Most plans of revenge crumbled before Tav's confessions. They had the Crown of Karsus. Kept it safe. Grieved his death. What a strange and wonderful combination. He swung the whisky slowly.

"I suppose I apologise for showing you images of my death in Helsik's shop." He held out his free hand and the vanished tumbler dropped into it. "If you forgive me for not being dead."

Tav narrowed their eyes. Those things were not the same. Still. Raphael was not dead. And he probably still wanted the Crown of Karsus so maybe they'd meet again. He didn't strike them as somebody who rummaged through other peoples' sinks unbidden.

"Okay," they finally said. "Deal."

Raphael tilted his head. "Now you deal?"

Tav snorted. "Figure of speech."

"Never with a devil." He stepped towards Tav who took a step backwards. "We are very orderly beings. A deal is a deal and needs a seal."

Tav stepped back further as he approached. "Handshake?" they offered.

"I have a much better plan."

Tav came up against one of the couches scattered about.

"Have a seat."

They dropped, not that there was anywhere else to go. Unthinking they accepted the tumbler and Raphael filled it again.

"A toast. To a good future collaboration." Raphael smiled like a knife and it was as reassuring as looking down the business end of one.

Still Tav nodded. "Your glass?"

"I prefer my liquor served in a quivering bellybutton," the devil replied and knelt before Tav. He pried their knees apart slowly and carefully raised their shirt until Tav's stomach was exposed. "If you don't mind."

Tav closed their eyes. They had come with very different intentions. Though they never had thought about what they'd do once they got their hands on the devil. Time to find out.

[palfriendpatine66]

WIP Wednesday - Customer service au

Currently leading the poll is the one shot in which Obi-Wan orders a sex toy that refuses to charge and deals with customer service rep Anakin. Read below for a snippet.

Obi-Wan had a smug moment of satisfaction when a robotic voice prompted him to key in the twelve digit order number included in his confirmation email, followed by a moment of pure horror when after a brief hold a voice picked up on the other line. There was no doubt in his mind that it was an actual human voice, for although spoken in a flat monotone there is no way a recording or robot would sound bored to the point of tears.

“Customer service, Anakin speaking, please confirm your order number and the name on the account.”

Instead of doing the only thing that made any amount of sense - immediately hanging up and suffering his losses - he made a strangled noise of surprise and said the first words the whisky deemed appropriate: “Piss off.”

That would have been the second best time to end the call and pretend the whole thing never happened, but the thought didn’t cross his mind as a bark of surprised laughter erupted on the other end, the click of keys just audible underneath. “You called me.” There was a brief pause as Obi-Wan melted into a puddle of shame and a few more clicks sounded on the other line. “You do know that, right, Mr. Obi-Wan Kenobi?”

“Why’d you ask for my name if you already have it right there,” Obi-Wan spluttered, already on the defensive.

“Okay first of all, there is a script I’m supposed to follow, you know,” the low voice scoffed. “Not that you seem to be invested in that. But secondly it gives me time to pull up your account details, and confirm that you put in your confirmation number correctly, and I’m not about to start talking to you about the problems with your vacuum cleaner when you really ordered -” Obi-Wan put his head in his hands as a surprised inhale followed a couple of quick clicks. “Oh. I see.”

“Do you?”

A more composed, controlled customer service voice took over. “Can you confirm that the product you are calling about today is a, uh, passion plus remote vibrating/thrusting p-spot plug.”

“Yes,” Obi-Wan managed to force a mortified whisper into the palm of his hand.

“Okay. And the product was delivered…yesterday?”

“Yes.”

“Did you receive the correct product?

“Yes.” Useless though it was.

“Okay. Then what can I do for you?”

Obi-Wan squeezed his eyes shut tightly. “I was hoping for a…return?”

[koi-koi-fish]

Youjo Senki college AU part 2

Zettour:

Business professor. Grandpa energy. Well liked and respected by students. Though Tanya is his best and favorite student he's still professional enough to not focus on her and gives all his students equal attention. If anything he gives Tanya less attention because he knows she can handle herself. Enjoys debating Tanya on economics and business practices. Wine connoisseur.

Rudersdorf:

History professor. Best friends with Zettour and they frequently go golfing together smoking cigars and drinking whisky (Zettour prefers wine). Though Tanya is his best student his favorite student is Neumann, however he dislikes that Neumann is a stoner. Former heavyweight boxer and occasionally gives Neumann advice. Super into sports, especially football. Part time coach for his grandson's football team.

Ugar:

Student counselor. In his early thirties, happily married, and has a 3 year old daughter. Is aware of Tanya's circumstances and feels bad for her. Hired Tanya part-time as a babysitter (Tanya is actually good at it). During holidays he invites Tanya over to spend time with his family (Tanya occasionally accepts. She mostly spends time with Visha). This is as far as he goes in giving Tanya special treatment. Like Zettour, he's professional enough that he doesn't neglect the other students.

Lergen AKA Rerugen:

Dean. Is the only one that knows Tanya is a troublemaker but doesn't have the evidence to prove it. Though he doesn't irrationally hate Tanya he believes she's up to no good. Dislikes Shugal and his lack of safety regarding students and his experiments. Believes nothing good will come from Tanya and Shugal working together and that Tanya will become a weapons manufacturer for the US military having Shugal design the weapons.

Shugal:

Engineering professor. may or may not have a time machine. Used to be an atheist but after a near-death experience became a hardcore Christian. Likes to have Tanya test out his contraptions because she's small and light so has the smallest affect on performance. Makes Tanya pray before testing his experiments (which is why Tanya hates him). Is aware that Tanya hates him but doesn't care. Shugal respects that Tanya is pragmatic enough to work with someone she hates (him) to get things done. Shugal convinced Tanya to work for him by giving her a couple hundred thousand dollars (which she put into investments) and promising her that once she founds her own business she can have some of his patent rights and sell his inventions.

[mariacallous]

The dinner table unites and divides, especially the question of what we eat and how we eat it. It is therefore not surprising that politicians frequently use food as a wedge issue to push their ideological agendas and define who belongs in a group and who doesn’t.

The recent political firestorm ignited by former U.S. President Donald Trump’s claim during a presidential debate that “In Springfield, they’re eating the dogs. The people that came in. They’re eating the cats,” has upended life in the small Ohio town—especially for its Haitian migrant population. The newly arrived refugees have been accused of eating their neighbors’ pets, leading to bomb threats to local schools and the suspension of in-person classes at nearby universities.

The repercussions of the event have been felt far beyond Springfield. On Sunday, vice presidential candidate J.D. Vance seemed to double down on the rumors he helped launch—telling CNN’s Dana Bash that “If I have to create stories so that the American media actually pays attention to the suffering of the American people, then that’s what I’m going to do.”

The baseless rumor Haitians immigrants eating pets in Springfield was promptly and summarily debunked by the town authorities. The soundbite was obviously meant to generate anxiety among voters who consider immigration a fundamental threat to the survival of the United States as we know it.

Whether it is truth or fiction does not matter. The Republican candidates’ divisive strategy has succeeded because of the symbolic meanings Americans—or any people—tend to attribute to certain foods that are seen to reflect and embody their identity as a community. These, in turn, generate strong emotional connections. Such reactions can easily bypass rational reflection. They feed instead off gut feelings. That’s why evidence negating Trump’s narrative may not actually change people’s knee-jerk reaction of revulsion.

The United States, due to its social and cultural diversity, is the perfect laboratory to test this kind of gastronativist messaging. Gastronativism can be activated not only via political affiliation, but also by class, religion, age, nationality, language and, of course, race and ethnicity. Throughout U.S. history, new immigrants have been accused of strange and disgusting culinary habits as a strategy to denigrate them and keep them at the margins of society.

German and Irish immigrants in the mid-19th century were identified with excessive consumption of beer and whisky, a habit that was considered with contempt in a society where anti-alcohol currents were strong and would, over time, originate legal arrangements such as prohibitionism.

The Chinese that settled on the West Coast to work in mining and in railway construction were frequently scorned for their consumption of rice as a main staple, which was considered a sign of their lack of civilization. As most of them were men, at least at first, rice was also interpreted as the explanation for their assumed lack of virility. They were also accused of eating rats, as well serving cats and dogs in their restaurants.

When new waves of migrations from Southern and Eastern Europe invested in the United States, it was the time for garlic and its smell to be derided as an inevitable trait of Italians. This time, well intentioned social workers tried their best to wean the newcomers from their excessive use of vegetables and spices and to convince them to increase their consumption of dairy and meat, which the nutritional theories of the time considered as indispensable to provide the necessary strength for those engaged in physical labor. As new populations arrived, it was their turn to see their food and culinary traditions disparaged as clear marks of their cultural and social inferiority.

The real issue, of course, was always who the “real Americans” were. And the specter of Black migrants eating pets has proved to be even more potent than old scare stories about the Chinese, Italians, and Irish.

Springfield, Ohio, has in recent years experienced a massive influx of refugees escaping political instability in Haiti. The new arrivals, who are there legally, have eased the local businesses’ need for workers, from agriculture to industrial plants. However, they have also have strained the city’s financial and welfare resources, eliciting strong reactions among locals.

While Ohio Republican Gov. Mike DeWine, acknowledging the inevitable growing pains that come with a sudden population increase, has pointed out the role of Haitians in the economic resurgence of Springfield, his fellow Republican, Vance, has ignored the migrants’ contribution to the town’s comeback in favor of spreading wild and incendiary rumors. The fact that Trump and Vance doubled down on a lie points to its usefulness in stirring apprehension among their supporters, with the goal of bringing them to the polls.

Haitian refugees have escaped a country devastated by gang violence and political disarray. Many of them are likely to have experienced food insecurity, an issue that has plagued the island of Haiti for decades and has intensified due to the recent instability. Moreover, Haitians are Black, which itself constitutes a threat for certain segments of the white electorate who feel that their way of life and their privileges are being unfairly usurped by non-white newcomers.

It is easy to project on foreigners who come from a poor country a readiness to feed themselves in any way possible, including consuming animals that better-off people would not consider food.

Haitians, in particular, are often portrayed as practitioners of voodoo, an Afro-Caribbean religion that syncretizes Catholic saints with West African deities. Born out of the culture of enslaved Africans in the New World as a form of resistance and transmission of their original culture, voodoo is connected with practices that include spiritual possession and, on occasion, animal sacrifices. American popular culture has played a central role in making these customs visible and, in many cases, terrifying—partly due to the connection between voodoo and zombie lore in films and horror literature.

The apprehension about the supposed religious practices of Haitians has deep roots in American culture. The anxiety about the mysterious habits of people of African descent has been a longstanding historical phenomenon in the United States since the colonial period. Such fears were intensified by the fact that enslaved people grew and cooked the food that their owners consumed.

Black women at times were tasked with breastfeeding white children and, in many cases, raising them. Against this background, tales about Black magic and juju abounded, indicating a clear ambivalence between the need for products and meals that came from Black hands and the awareness that those exploited in fields and kitchens may hold a grudge.

Given this history, the fake news regarding Haitians in Springfield is far from unexpected. It is through food that we distinguish “us” from “them.” And of course, “we” are inherently better than “them.”

Although Trump also mentioned wild geese being hunted, the fears about Haitian newcomers focused on pets, and in particular dogs. This particular phobia has a long lineage. Some native populations in North American did consume dog meat, causing disconcertment among European settlers. A 2018 regulation, the Dog and Cat Meat Trade Prohibition Act, was included in the Farm Bill, prohibiting the slaughtering of cats and dogs for human consumption, with the exception of native ceremonies.

Dog eating, however, was also a custom in China, South Korea, and the Philippines, among other countries, all of which have seen substantial migration toward the United States. The rapidly growing numbers of Asians in the United States intensified existing anti-Asian sentiments and racial intolerance, which increased during the coronavirus pandemic, attributed by many politicians to China. To emphasize its foreignness and blame Asians for it, Trump referred to the coronavirus as “kung flu.” The stereotype of the “dog-eating Asian” had a temporary resurgence, together with slurs and taunts that were often dug out from the past.

While dog eating is still legally practiced in some areas of China, it is in decline (Shenzhen became in 2020 the first city to outlaw it), and dog slaughtering as livestock has been banned in the Philippines since 1998, with an exception for rituals in indigenous communities and despite the persistence of some residual illegal consumption. In 2024, South Korea passed a law against the breeding and slaughter of dogs.

But reality does not seem to affect the circulation of food-related conspiracy theories, whose effectiveness is predicated on their capacity to strike emotional chords. The power of gastronativist fantasies grows precisely out of the centrality of eating in defining our identity and belonging. Facts end up losing relevance.

The incidents supposedly taking place in Springfield echo preexisting narratives with a long history, making the rumors feel familiar enough that lies begin to sound like truth. The emerging storyline of pet-eating Haitians responds to the needs of the politicians who peddle it while reflecting the ideological worldview of their followers. The victims—in this case a migrant community from a beleaguered country—are the collateral, calculated damage.

[seospicybin]

ON TOUR PREVIEW.

HIDDEN TRACK.

PART IV OF ON TOUR SERIES.

Hyunjin x reader x Felix. (s,f,a)

Synopsis: Your best friend, Felix, is in a rock band and he takes you to join him on tour as the band’s photographer. On the road, you learn how to deal with his bandmate, Hyunjin, who’s not very welcoming of you.

Preview under the cut!

...

The entire arena is filled with ice hockey enthusiasts and fans of both teams playing today's match. Felix's so little knowledge of ice hockey holds him back from enjoying it.

You sense that he's not thrilled to be here, you lightly nudge his shoulder, "Is it boring?"

"No," he answers a little too fast.

You laugh because you know he lied to be nice, "we cheer when everyone cheers," you tell.

And one of the players just sent the hockey puck into the goalpost.

Everyone shot up from their seats, loudly cheering and whistling, shouting encouraging words and whatnot.

You follow suit and pull Felix to stand, cheering for whoever made the goal. Once the cheers died down, the two of you sit back down.

"See? It's not that boring," you tell him.

That's what he likes about you, you always know how to make him feel comfortable around you. Lou returns carrying drinks and snacks in his hands.

You take it from him and share it around, handing it to Felix while putting some on your lap.

"The score?" Lou asks.

You don't answer and simply point to the jumbotron. Felix silently chuckles at how you nonchalantly responded to Lou.

Felix takes a sip of his drink and he's sure as hell there's alcohol in it, he feels it burning his throat.

"What is it?"

"Cola," Lou replies.

He glares at him, "And?"

"Whisky."

Everyone knows he's bad with alcohol and getting drunk at a sports match wouldn't make a good look on him. So far, no one recognized him, thanks to the hat he pulls so low to hide his face but who knows?

"Oh, come on! I'm sure Lou only put a few drops in it," you assure him with a gentle bump to Lou's shoulder.

"Right, Lou?"

"Yeah, sure," Lou confirms but his half-hearted answer is not quite convincing.

You rest your chin on his shoulder, "We're here to have fun, right?"

Well, yeah, that's why he's here, to have fun with you and if that's what it takes then a little alcohol wouldn't be a problem. The three of you clinked your plastic cups together to finally take a sip.

Felix can feel that he begins to loosen up with every sip of drink he took, he's having fun, he laughs and cheers even though he has no idea which team he should be rooting for.

The first period has ended and to fill the fifteen minutes of break before the second period starts, the jumbotron searches for couples in the crowd for kiss cam.

"Here!" You feed him fries dipped in ketchup while also shoving some into your mouth.

Lou is also snacking on a hotdog that he hasn't had the chance to eat as he was so invested in watching the match. He is the only one having a ball watching it.

"Stay still," you order him and Felix complies without a word.

He sees as you take a napkin and dab the corner of his mouth, "you have ketchup," you inform.

The crowd cheers as the couple on the jumbotron kisses and the camera pans to find a new couple. He can't believe it at first but then he sees himself and you in a heart-shaped frame on the jumbotron.

You get horrified to see yourself on the big screen as well, nonplussed.

As it takes the two of you long enough to kiss, the crowd starts to endlessly chanting "Kiss! Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!" 

It seems that they won't stop until the two of you kiss, Felix turns to see you, covering your face with your hand, shyly laughing.

And you know that the camera won't move on unless they get what everyone wants.

"Should we do it?" You shyly ask him.

Felix doesn't know what to answer, sure he wants to get it over with but at the same time, he doesn't want to pressure you to do something.

You laugh again before speaking, "Well, I either have to kiss you or Lou."

You leer at Lou for a second then immediately change your mind, "but there's no way I kiss Lou."

Felix glances at Lou, who grins with a dollop of mustard on his upper lip.

"But you're welcomed to kiss Lou," you jokingly say.

It seems like the only logical thing to do, kissing you and getting it over with. Felix doesn't like showing affection in public but he would take this as another first he did with you.

Wait, it's his first kiss with you.

Now that it crosses his mind, he feels burdened by it.

You put your hand on his neck and make him face it, "Let's show them how to do it!"

It's not the first time for him to kiss someone but he doesn't remember the part where his heart pounding so hard. He's only going to kiss you, a friend but why does it feel like his heart is about to jump out of his chest?

Felix doesn't know who leans in first, you or him, the next thing he knows is that heavenly feeling he gets as both of your lips collide in a kiss.

He feels your sweet, alcohol-tinted breath as you slightly part your lips open to take a low breath to continue kissing him.

Out of the blue, Felix gets curious about what happens if he allows himself to go for it so he opens his mouth and kisses you back.

Goodness! It feels wrong yet feels right and everything in between, mixes into one, a kiss that evokes something in him that he needs to figure out what is.

Then everything becomes background noise, it's nice and safe, and he wants to stay in this moment forever.

Unfortunately, Felix can't always get what he wants as you slowly pull away from the kiss with a smile.

As if someone has unplugged his ears, he can hear the deafening cheers, the response to the kiss he did with you, and finally, the camera moves on to the new couple.

"I think we did great, huh?" You calmly comment while picking up your drink from the floor.

"Y-yeah," he stutters.

Truthfully, Felix doesn't want to taste anything else, he wants the taste of your lips to linger until he figures out what it is he felt a moment ago.

But you raise your cup, asking for a toast with him and Felix reluctantly does the same, clashing it with yours to take a celebratory sip together, washing the taste of you away and swallowing it down.

Lou is definitely not putting just 'a few drops of alcohol' in his drink because why he feels so lightheaded as he walks back to the parking lot? And why would Lou call for a driver?

You take his hand, putting his arm around you to walk back together to the car, "are you okay, Felix?"

Okay? He feels more than okay. He feels good, he feels like a stupid teenager who doesn't have any responsibilities or chips on his shoulders. He feels easy, he feels incredibly happy that he believe he could fly.

"I'm grand," he finally answers.

On the car ride home, he sits with you in the backseat, heads resting against each other. You roll the window down, letting the summer night air into the car, making your hair fly in the air.

Lou plays something on the car stereo, a song that fits just right with what he feels.

"One smile... When can you give me, when can you give me."

Felix likes it when you smile.

"Touch me... Can you give me, oh can you give me."

he likes when you touch him because your touch gives him comfort.

"Love me... Come and give me, oh can you give me some."

He likes what you make him feel.

For him, you're a gift that carries on.

...

Full fic will be posted tomorrow!

[wordywarriorwrites]

Calendar Girl: December

Series Masterlist: Calendar Girl Joel Miller Masterlist Author: @wordywarriorwrites​ Summary: The story of how Joel Miller falls in love again, told over a series of months. Series Warnings: NSFW. Smut. Language. Violence. Discussions of rape and consent. Alcohol consumption. Age-gap.

December

Joel was three servings deep on a surprisingly decent single malt when he realized the two of you were seated directly beneath the mistletoe.

You’d made an effort to be festive - donned a dark green sweater and a red knitted cap. Joel hadn’t even tried - just rolled up to the Christmas Eve gathering in his usual flannel and jeans. Every few minutes, his eyes swept over the crowd with a cold indifference most of the townsfolk still hadn’t gotten used to, whereas you waved at nearly everyone who passed by, and they greeted you warmly in return.

He recalled how you’d smiled up at him the very first time all those sunrises and sunsets ago. Your kind, welcoming eyes had been nonjudgmental, open, and endearingly curious. In fact, you’d made his world go topsy-turvy that day, and things hadn’t been quite the same since.

Something about you had revived and coaxed out parts of him he’d thought dead and buried long ago. But he played it very close to the vest - not only because you’re half his age and completely out of his league, but also because you deserved more than his old bones and bloodied hands could ever give you.

You deserved better. You deserved the fucking best.

Everyone in Jackson adored you, and they were right to do so. Even after all you’d been through, all the pain and loss you’d endured, you were still so good. Joel, on the other hand, had always been a blunt instrument - contractor, smuggler, killer, guardian. And sure, he may have been permitted to be a member of the town, but he’d never been widely well-liked or fully embraced - not in the way you and Ellie had been.

For the longest time, the need to protect Ellie and keep her safe had outweighed everything, including any misgivings he’d had about a prolonged stay in Jackson. But after a year in your continued presence, he realized he stayed because you’d made him remember what it felt like to actually want something - to want someone - for himself.

And the longer he remained, the more invested he became.

Rushed meetings, focused on getting assigned a house, learning the town rules, and being added to the job rotations. Then, more prolonged conversations over meals in the mess hall. In the past few months, there’d been walks and rides and movies and books. Ellie liked you, trusted you, and seemed to enjoy your company as well. The more time Joel spent with you, the more he realized he wasn’t just attracted to you; he’d started to feel comfortable - maybe even safe - with you, and that complicated things.

It wasn’t until you polished off your drink, and the tip of your tongue darted out to catch a wayward drop, that Joel started to think about your mouth and all the ways he’d enjoy it if you ever became his. And as his thoughts continued to mosey on down that unlikely, dangerous path for what seemed like the trillionth time, he realized your tongue would taste especially good coated in whisky - all warm, smoky, and sweet. 

“Any plans for tomorrow?” you asked in a conversational tone.

Joel shrugged away his treacherous thoughts and raised his hand for a refill, “Might visit Tommy and his family. Hang out with Ellie. You know, the usual.”

You nodded. Offered up your plate for sharing. Joel accepted your ready-made concoction of bread, cheese, and jam; a surprisingly good combination, but then again, you’d never steered him wrong.

“What about you?” Joel wondered as he wiped crumbs from his shirt. “Spending time with Carl?”

You gestured for your own refill and waited for it to be delivered before you spoke again.

“We decided to go our separate ways,” you announced tersely.

Joel paused with his glass halfway to his mouth, “When did that happen?”

“This morning.”

You tilted your head back, and he watched as the amber liquid disappeared down your throat in one swallow. You maintained an even temperament and possessed an impressively good poker face. Even when Carl sidled up to the opposite end of the bar - bold as brass, with his arm wrapped very familiarly around another woman’s waist - you didn’t react.   

The reason for the split became all too clear, and just like that, your ex went to the top of Joel’s own special kind of Naughty List.

“You can’t kill him,” you insisted.

He rolled his jaw, “Why not?”

“Because it wasn’t his fault.”

“He’s the one who cheated. Not you.”

You let out a self-deprecating laugh, “There are different kinds of cheating.”

Joel wanted to know what you’d meant by that, but you steered the conversation out of those muddied waters, and asked about Ellie and how she was doing in school. That safe topic saw you both through another round, and while you shared another plate of food, you talked shop and swapped stories about past Christmas celebrations.

“I mean, I was eighteen when it happened,” you explained. “But I remember Christmas at my house was always a bit stuffy. Not like this, you know?”

“You mean you weren’t hanging out in a bar, doin’ shots of whisky with an old man?”

“Shut up.”

Joel smirked, “You sure you shouldn’t be at home, dreaming of sugar plums like the rest of the little children?”

You pursed your lips and smacked his shoulder, “Har-fuckin’-har.”    

While everyone in town would attend a big Christmas Day dinner, the Christmas Eve party was an adults-only affair. With the kids safely tucked into their beds, the grownups had gone out to play, and as people started to blow off steam, the party became both raucous and crowded.

Someone attempted a rendition of Elvis’ Blue Christmas and failed spectacularly. Then, the jukebox was turned on, and people danced like fools. The delicateness of pine, mixed with the headiness of firewood. Laughter and mindless chatter and a bit too much Jingle Bells.    

Joel sipped and chewed, and as he pondered your new relationship status, you ordered yourself another. As the night’s bartender hustled over, she jerked her thumb toward the ceiling, and he watched as you caught sight of the mistletoe. Something he’d hoped and feared you’d notice had been blatantly pointed out, and Joel tried not to cringe as the bartender poured and explained that it was tradition to kiss beneath it and not doing so would bring bad luck.

You waited for her to walk away before you looked at him, brow arched, “That true?”

Joel shrugged and scratched his chin, “It’s an old wives’ tale, but yeah.”

You nudged him. He nudged you back. A shared laugh, and then, a moment of hesitation. A flash of unspoken, are we really going to do this? You nodded - said it would be better not to tempt fate. Joel agreed - said he’d had enough bad luck to last a lifetime.  

Like all fires, it started with a spark; the anticipation of first contact as you both leaned toward each other on rickety, unbalanced stools. A rush of flames soon followed; your lips fitted sweetly against his, stoking the need, causing it to flare brighter.

Without any conscious thought whatsoever, Joel gripped your chin between his thumb and forefinger and swept his tongue into your mouth. From there, it turned into an inferno. Your nails dragged along the skin at the tape of his neck, and he introduced his teeth to your bottom lip in response. When he cupped your face in his palms and caressed the apples of your cheeks with his thumbs, you wrapped your hands around his wrists and squeezed. Joel felt the vibration of the pleased sound you let out, and as goosebumps erupted along his body, he slanted his mouth more firmly over yours, and let himself get lost in the warmth of your kiss.

A couple of very inebriated, gray-haired women singing Santa Baby at the top of their lungs bumped into you and effectively burst the bubble. They apologized profusely. You graciously waved it off. Then, you looked at him - lashes aflutter, pupils blown, and mouth all shiny and kiss-swollen; you’d never been more beautiful, and Joel would’ve happily picked up where you’d left off had you not suddenly jerked away from him and rushed to your feet.

“I have to go,” you announced abruptly.

Joel cleared his throat and swallowed hard, “Alright. You want me to walk you?”

You shook your head. Pulled on your coat. Mumbled Merry Christmas and hurried out the door.

Just his luck.

Next Chapter: January

[keen-li]

House of cards : this house of ours

♤Synopsis: Taehyung's just trying get to know the owner of the brothel his father loves so much. But he ends up unveiling secrets he'd never expect. Will he be able to salvage what's left after.

♧Fem reader x Taehyung, Seokjin as Taehyung's father.

♤♡◇♧

"I'm glad to have Mr Kim's son here" smiling professionally you direct him to take a seat on the chair infront of your desk.

"I never expected to see you here though" you say turning around to grab the whisky bottle behind you.

He takes the time to look around your dimly lit office room, the red colour of it turns everything into a red shade.

"Your father usually tells us to send girls over"

"He never comes in person" you chuckle as you notice him scrunch his face.

"You don't need to tell me about my father's business" he sighs as you chuckle at that.

"I'm pretty sure you're used to it, cause he's got his investments here" you inform him like he didn't know. He's always known, his father actually encouraged him on many occasions to come here. But he's never been interested. Until he saw you in his dad's office one night. You had come over to discuss some business with his father, he never knew who owned the brothel he just knew it was a woman. Which intrigued him to know more but never got the chance to.

It was actually surprising that you came to his dad's home office,  no one ever goes there for business. It made him think maybe you were sleeping with his dad, you owned a brothel anyways. He doesn't even know why the thought bothers him, he's only seen you once.

"Are you sleeping with the brothel owner" he asks his father trying his best to sound respectful.

"Y/n" he says not even looking at his son who just looks confused.

"That's her name. The least you could've done was ask for her name" he can hear the annoyance in his father's voice, he doesn't even seem to care about the accusation of his son.

"I apologise. But are you?"

"How does it concern you" he smiles mockingly at his son.

Taehyung scoffs running his hands through his hair.

"Are you interested in her?"

"I just want to know", Mr Kim chuckles at that, he knows his son well enough to know that he is interested.

"No I'm not" taehyung just nods and moves to walk out.

"Just so you know she's not an easy woman"

Taehyung never expected you to be easy, he could see by the way you looked that you never took bullshit.

"I hope this isn't too cheap for you, Mr kim" it actually isn't you'd never buy cheap alcohol. You hand him the glass.

"You can call me taehyung" he takes the glass sipping noticing its the same that he's father has as well. He knows he's father would never buy cheap alcohol too.

"And I'm sure anything you offer isn't cheap" he says, voice and eyes low and if you didn't know any better you'd never notice the other meaning of his sentence. You're used to such comments, you've been here long enough to notice all of them.

You smile at him as you take a seat in your own chair.

"So what would you like to discuss?" you sip your liquid.

"Firstly I'd like to acknowledge your hard work on this place" He says taking another glance of your office. You smile at him.

"Thanks to your father I got to keep this place" you ignore his eyes as you hear him hum.

"Secondly, I'd like to invite you to the ball my dad's holding next week"

These events are held once a year but its the first time Mr Kim is hosting one. Its mainly business men who gather to dicuss business and their wives rubbing their husband's wealth in eachother's faces. Its also an opportunity for new businessmen to promote themselves. It's an unspoken rule that if a man invites a woman, she's gonna be by his side the whole night.

You sigh as you respond to taehyung, "I'd love to..." he smiles but it soon drops when you continue to speak. "But your father has already invited me"

"That bastard beat me to it" he whispers but you still hear it.

"I don't think you should be calling your father a bastard" you sip your liquid.

"I'm just a little frustrated with him" he chuckles awkwardly.

"He is a difficult man but he is a good man" taehyung doesn't know what his father has on you, but he must have had you fooled.

"I think I'll take my leave now" he stands from his chair and gulps the last remaining whisky from his glass. He may not like his father but they're quite the same when it comes to alcohol.

"You're leaving already?" You stand aswell following behind him as you reach the door.

"I thought you came here for a girl" taehyung smiles looking down at you and shakes his head.

"You're sure you're don't want one to escort you back home."

Unless it's you taehyung wants to say but keeps it in, and releases a chuckle.

"Maybe next time" you nod at that and assure him that you're always open if he needs anything.

"I mean open for business" you say after you realised he might take what you said in the wrong way. He laughs and nods saying his final goodbyes as he walks away.

He really can't read your face. He doesn't know what's going in your mind. He's good at reading people by the way they speak and act, especially women. But for you all he sees is a woman just running her business.

♤♡◇♧

"We're you able to meet with the designer"

"Yes I was, Mr kim" you say to the man on the other side of the phone. You hear him laugh.

"Y/n, I told you, you don't need to be so formal with me"

"I know that, I guess I just got used to it" you laugh.

"It's okay y/n"

You proceed to talk about something to do with the ball, you laugh whenever he makes a joke about his business partners.

"Did taehyung come visit you?" He asks you.

"Yes, how did you know?" He doesn't answer but simply chuckles.

"Anyway y/n I don't wanna keep you from your beauty sleep. Goodnight" he says before you end the call. You sigh taking a sip of your wine. How did you find yourself having night calls with a business partner. But its not the most surprising thing you've been through.

♤♡◇♧

You didn't have to wait very long for the driver to arrive. He arrives at the time Mr Kim told you he'd be there.

He opens the door for you as he greets you. You make yourself comfortable in the already comfortable car as the driver drives off.

You first have to go to Mr Kim's House, you both have to be there together. You admire the pretty city lights and before you know it you're infront of Mr Kim's House. You knew he had a large house, but it still shocks you.

Your attention is pulled to the now open car door. You watch as Mr kim adjusts his suit and settles into the car seat. You straighten your back adjusting your hands around your purse.

You both exchange greetings his eyes glued forward.

"You look lovely y/n" he says glancing at you for a second.

"Thank you Sir" you blush, "you look good too sir" he chuckles.

"Ahh don't flatter me"

"I can see you went with my dress pick" he says and you hum.

"You surprisingly have great taste in women's clothing" you turn to look at him as he glides his hand over his dark slicked back hair.

"Got some practice from my ex wife" you lightly laugh.

You both stay silent for sometime not knowing what to say since you aren't talking about business. All of a sudden you hear him laugh and you turn your attention to him.

"You know you've grown into such a great business woman y/n"

"I'm proud of you"

You bow your head at him "its all thanks to you sir, I wouldn't have this without your help" he turns to look at you and your eyes meet.

"I may have helped you start, but you're the one who's kept it running" that's true but he's still a very huge part of this.

Soon enough the car comes to a stop infront of Mr Kim's Hotel where the event is being held.

He holds his hand out for you to hold which you do and adjust your long black silk dress. Your heels clank against the marble floor as you walk in with your hand on Mr Kim's arm. People seem to have noticed you two walk in as they stare and some people whisper. You couldn't careless about what people have to say about you, plus you know everyone here is little secret. Some people make their visits to the brothel secret while others don't care whether people know. Most of them who gossip are the ones who make secret trips to your business.

"Here" you hear Mr kim say as he hands you a glass of champagne. You take it with a smile and lightly sip some.

"It won't be a while until they're flocking to me with business proposals" Mr kim never had friends in this industry. He treated all of them like businessmen and he always scoffs at the ones who think they are close to friend level with him.

"Seokjin" and some even dare reach first name basis. Just like Mr Choi.

"Mr Choi, I thought we talked about that" he says to the over joyous man.

"My apologies, it's just good to see you" he doesn't say anything as seokjin's hand moves to your lower back. That causes you to stiffen and Mr kim stares at you with a warm smile.

"Ah, y/n it's nice to see you again" you smile and bow greeting him back, seokjin can feel how your body tenses at Mr Choi's presence, he understands why you feel like this. So he pulls you in closer trying to make you feel protected.

"I've heard your business is going great" he says to you and you hum and plaster a fake smile.

"I can't believe you used t-" Your eyes shoot up at what he's about to say.

"Mr Choi" seokjin calls out darkly. "I think you were here to talk to me " Mr choi senses by seokjin's tone that he's probably out of line.

"Oh yes, I was hoping to get you on the latest project I'm starting" he starts to rumble as you feel a little nervous by this man's presence.

"Then why don't we talk about it somewhere else" Mr choi nods as Mr kim turns to you.

"I'll be back, just enjoy yourself" he smiles "and if you can, find Taehyung" you smile at his words as you feel his hands leave your waist and he walks off not sparing you one glance.

Its not like you've never been to these events, youve been to them many times and you're used to it. You're actually a very confident person, as you've been told by many men and women. Jealous women.

"Y/n" you hear a cheerful call of your name as you try and search for it. When you turn to the source you see a smiling blonde in a light pink dress,that compliments her pale skin, walk to you.

"Gwen, how are you" you say as you hug.

"I'm doing great, I can see you're doing great as well" She says pulling away and admiring your body that's wrapped in the black silk dress.

"I can see Mr Kim's treating you right" you almost choke at her words.

"I'm not with seokjin" you defend yourself.

She rises a brow at you, "you're even on first name basis" you didn't even realise you called him by his first name.

"That was a mistake, Mr kim is nothing more than a business partner" she nods at that.

"How's your husband" you ask her and she turns red blushing when you do.

"He's amazing, best husband ever" you can see how truly happy she is.

"He's actually here"

"Oh, I'll definitely have to say hi to him when I see him" she wants to pull you by the arm and drag you to him but you refuse.

"He must be busy with business partners, I'll see him later" she nods accepting as she expresses to you that she needs to leave.

"It was nice seeing you again"

"It's was nice seeing you again too" you smile but she pauses before she can leave.

"And y/n, I'm so proud of you for making it out" you give her a sad little smile.

"I'm proud of you too"

♤♡◇♧

You're roaming aroumd after speaking to some thirsty men. At this point you're gonna have to tattoo your policy on your forehead.

"Are you sure I can pay well" one of the men you've spoken to tonight said.

You roll your eyes at all of them cause all they want to talk about is sex. I mean it's your business but they wanna talk about sex with you, as if you don't tell them everytime that you don't do that.

"Are you okay?" You hear a voice speak and you focus on the owner of the voice.

"Huh?"

"Are you okay? You look a little out of it" taehyung says and you chuckle.

"I was just thinking about something"

He stands in front of you hands in his pockets."you look beautiful"

"Thank you" you keep it professional like you do with all men.

You don't say much just look around the filled place.

"Want to talk business?"

"What business can I speak to you about" you chuckle and taehyung looks offended.

"I mean what businesses do you have? Daddy's boy" he scoffs at that.

"Im not a Daddy's boy and I do have businesses"

"Working at your father's companies is not a business" you laugh.

"Okay fine let's talk about your business" you nod.

"You've finally found someone you like?"

He laughs shaking his head. "Not quite" you look at him confused.

"What's the connection between you and my father" he comes out little aggressive and back tracks.

"I mean my dad and your business" you straighten your face at him.

"He's an investor, don't you know that?" you say but he doesn't seem convinced.

"He doesn't speak about your business with me much" you nod understandably.

"Than that's it." You say about to walk away but he stops you.

"Why you walking away so quick" you raise a brow at him.

"Do you want me to show you around the hotel?"

"Mr kim has already showed me around before" you turn to walk away again.

"I bet he hasn't shown you the top floor" you turn your attention caught.

"What are you talking about?"

"Why don't I just show you"

Before you can even say anything taehyung is pulling you to the elevator, dodging anything the servers offer you.

When the elevator stops after a long silent ride you sigh.

"Taehyung what's this?"

"Shhh" he shushes you and pulls you into the wide and large room.

"No one's allowed to come up here"

"Then what are we doing here?" You're about to turn around.

"Don't worry I'm allowed here" he says walking around like he owns the place.

"That doesn't comfort me, I don't want to be on Mr Kim's bad side" you say.

"Why are you such a suck up to my father" he sounds a little annoyed.

"I'm not a suck up to Mr Kim" you defend sternly.

"There we go again, Mr kim Mr kim Mr kim" he mocks you.

"You know I'm also Mr kim"

"But you know I'm not talking about you" you scoff folding your arms.

"You act like he's your master" you clench your jaw at that. "Does he have something against you?" He asks sounding concerned and slowly walks towards you.

"If he has something against you I can help you"

"I know the kind of man he is especially to woman, so if yo..."

You're starting to get frustrated by him and his words.

"Taehyung please!" You yell and soon try and collect yourself.

This isn't how a lady should behave you remember those words.

You calm yourself "Mr Kim doesn't have anything against me. He actually helped me" you say. "He's the only reason I have all this. So don't accuse him of such" you look into his eyes.

"How did he help you? My father doesn't help people he only uses them"

"Well he helped me"

"How?" He pushes the question.

"I should go" you turn around

"Y/n tell me" he grabs your hand "you can tell me y/n"

You take in a breath "Mr kim you don't know me on that level. So I advise you let go of my hand" your tone is stern and serious. He decides to drop your hand noticing your seriousness.

"And I'd appreciate it if we drop first names, Mr Kim "

And you walk into the elevator that just opened, avoiding Taehyung's gaze. Once you're back on the first floor you don't walk far till you hear his voice.

"Hey where have you been" You're startled by his voice and you're Immediately nervous and he notices.

"I'm sorry" you're a little shaky with your voice and you're avoiding his gaze.

At a ding Seokjin's eyes are on the elevator where taehyung walks out of. He chuckles suspecting what happened. Taehyung makes eye contact with his father and starts to walk towards the both of you.

"You were on the top floor?" He asks nonchalantly staring at his son.

"It was my fault, I made her go up there"

He stays silent not saying anything to his son. He turns back to you and uses his finger to lift your chin to make you face him. You're still shaky, not your confident self. He didn't like that...

"This isn't how a lady should behave. Fix yourself and meet me at the front"

[nobodysdaydreams]

If Cutter and his little girlfriend are going to space, does that mean they're gonna get their hands chopped off too? (Also it looks like Duck Boy might be going for a redemption arc! Go Duck Boy Go!)

(or my reaction to Episode 47 and mini Episode 14 of Wolf359)

Welcome back dear readers! I managed to get another episode in as I pack for my vacation. Please enjoy!

Tagging the mutuals who got me invested in this, and if you want to be tagged or untagged from these posts, lmk, or you can follow my blog or simply follow the tag "#bods wolf359 reactions". Anyone who has followed me for a while knows my updates are inconsistent, so I apologize in advance for that and for any spelling/grammar mistakes in my posts.

@sophieswundergarten @oflightningandstars @acollectionofcuriousreblogs @herawell @commsroom

Episode 47: Into the Depths

I love Hera's narration, and I love the thought experiment. It reminds me of split brain patients. (For those who don't know what a split brain patient is, or haven't taken a psych class, if we were to surgically cut your corpus collosum (the part of the brain the connects your hemispheres), your consciousness would split and there would basically be two of you sharing one body (but same memories, personality, intelligence, etc.). This is only done if there are life-threatening seizures in the area and removing it is the only way to stop them, but it's an interesting thought experiment because if there are suddenly two of you, what happened to the one?)

And... now Doug is freaking out. I guess the slaps aren't working.

"You will understand Hera." Shut it Whiskey Boy! This also makes me wonder how many "Hera's" we've seen.

Kepler: "I have no idea what's going on Doug, but I just can't stop being ominous. I swear I don't know what's happening, this is just how I talk at all times."

Conan and Clippy? 😂 The names Lovelace gives them.

Yes. Kepler was rude Lovelace. He had so much Whisky and did he share it? No. No he didn't. Selfish.

Ah it seems even you weren't in the loop Jacobi. Perhaps you might fancy a mutiny now?

She doesn't know she's a clone? That's cruel. Think of Jacobi! He died thinking he was the real Duck boy! That's an awful way to go. No one should die believing they're someone so cringe.

Warm up act? Kepler, shut up. And what other clones have shown up over the years? Cutter? Pryce?

Good question. What about Jacobi? Was HE going to die too?

Kepler: "Start listening to me. The only person who knows what's happening." You're just blackmailing them Kepler, you're not good for much other than threatening people and swirling around your Whisky.

Weapon designed to appeal to humanity? But...how do you know she's a weapon? And how do you know she can't fight it even if she is? Maybe Lovelace is stronger than the evil aliens! If they even are evil.

TELL HIM HERA! TELL HIM!

Jacobi: "What could motivate me?"

Me: *Holds up a duck*

Ah blue part of the star. 💙💫 That does seem to be important. Scary, but important.

"Jacobi, any thoughts?" When does he have any?

His hands are shaking? Oh yeah, your friend died, you killed someone, and your boss who lies to people (GASP) LIED TO YOU TOO! Oh if only SOMEBODY could have seen this coming. Really, anybody with ears and a brain.

Oh right. The other Jacobi. This entire time he hasn't been sure? AND HE DOESN'T EVEN KNOW WHAT FEAR FEELS LIKE? It's a NEW FEELING FOR HIM???

I guess everyone has their limit. Duck Boy needs a therapist. A team of therapists. The best therapists, and even then, I'm not sure it will be enough.

"You don't know what working at Goddard is really like" "You have a cool dental plan. Hooray." "It's not about that."

So...they do have a good dental plan? 🪥🦷

"Going new places. Meeting interesting people....LITTLE KIDS?"

Kepler. You didn't. NO. Oh my gosh they have Anne and Minkowski's husband at gunpoint don't they? And they don't even know.

Punch his lights out Doug. Good job.

Though to be fair that IS what working at Goddard seems to be about. Threatening the innocent for a 0.0000000000001% chance that you MIGHT get something out of this in the end.

Poor Lovelace. Hera knows what you're going through though. Exactly, see she does!

"Nobody do anything stupid" it's too late for that Kepler, you're here.

Good speech Lovelace! And nice punch!

"Can we get a break" Nope. Sadly no.

Huh. Hands are glowing. That's...interesting. Maybe she has some cool magic space powers? Is it too much to hope for?

Oh. It's the Dear Listeners. Well. Hello. 👋

Hush up Kepler. 😂 I love how they still talk like Doug.

That's right Kepler. Violence doesn't give you authority!

DISARMING HIM! DOES THAT MEAN HE IS LOSING HIS ARMS!

But...if he doesn't have any hands...

Then...how will he enjoy the feel of the Whisky in his hands?

Doug is hiding 😂 Why is Doug me?

What process are they talking about? “The door won't stay open, we are waiting.” Waiting for what? For what?

Well, at least the aliens don't like Kepler. That's a positive in my book. 👍

Glad Kepler and Jacobi are in custody. But...how exactly are they gonna put the handcuffs on Kepler if he no longer has hands...

Yeah, Minkowski, I'm with Lovelace. You SHOULD be in command. I know you think you're doing what is right, but Lovelace is an alien so...

DOUG. DO NOT SAY THAT THINGS CAN'T GET WORSE. TRUST ME THEY CAN.

Who is this? What is this? Who is Cline? Who is Jordan? What is this? Dr. what now? This is a lot of characters.

Full read out? Minkowski better send them a message warning them about Cutter. USS Hermes? OH NO THEY'RE NOT CALLING MINKOWSKI THEY'RE CALLING CUTTER. NO NO NO NO NO NO NO!!!!

Who is this? Who is the robot? Expunge the records? Ah yes, the black achieves. Oh Rachel.

"Say hi for me?" Hi to who? HERA oh no ew Pryce isn't it.

TRAVELING???

Please tell me Pryce and Cutter aren't coming to space. Unless it's to get blown up. In that case, they are welcome.

Mini Episode 14: One of Them

Oh they are listening to Jacobi and Kepler.

Looks like Jacobi might fancy a mutiny now.

Doug is me, I want snacks too 😂

"are you worried I can't get around Eiffel?" "Hey!" again, why is Doug me. 😂

Wow, Jacobi really DID care about Maxwell. Well then. Maybe the two of you shouldn't have been working for the bad guys then.

"What kind of officer have you been?" DANG DUCK BOY. GET THAT REDEMPTION ARC. GO DUCK BOY GO! 🦆

"I feel used. I feel experimented on. You treated me like one of them!"

Oh Duck Boy. Sweet silly little Duck Boy. Don't you get it? You've always been one of them. You, Hilbert, Maxwell, Kepler, even Rachel. You've always been one of them.

"You're addicted to gambling with people's lives and you lost!" EXACTLY!

"Neither one of us killed Maxwell." LIES! YOU COULD HAVE STOOD DOWN!

Jacobi is starting to realize that's not necessarily true. Good for him.

"I had my orders." So did Maxwell. So did Hilbert. So did Jacobi.

"You're just the middle link in the food chain" EXACTLY! YEEEESSSSSS!!! DUCK BOY IS FINALLY GETTING IT! AND THANK GOODNESS SOMEONE FINALLY IS BECAUSE HILBERT NEVER COULD! DUCK BOY! YOU'RE DOING IT! WADDLE YOUR WAY TO THAT REDEMPTION LITTLE DUCKLING! YOU CAN DO IT! 🐣

Thanks for reading dear readers. Sorry I didn’t have time to react to more, but I hope you enjoyed this!

[caskwhisky]

Explore the world of whisky investments with our comprehensive guide.

Learn the basics, discover the appeal, and navigate the market confidently with expert insights.

Whether you're a beginner or enthusiast, uncover the secrets of buying and selling whisky for investment.

Also, get answers to common questions and start your journey into this exciting and potentially lucrative realm today.

[rose-leviosa]

Penance, Chapter 19 - Help

Snippet (CW - panic attack)

Lyall watched him with a concerned frown etching deep lines into his face. Remus appeared exhausted but unharmed, slumped as he was on the couch, his shabby clothes half-buttoned, his face bloodless.  

“Have you eaten?” Remus’ eyes reopened and Lyall could see his fuzzy brain trying to process the question (or, perhaps, an answer). He didn't wait for a response before marching to the kitchen.  

“Dad, I'm fine,” Remus insisted as he rose stiffly from his seat to follow his father. “I’ll eat when I get hungry.”  

Lyall was already rummaging around, trying to find anything that might constitute a meal, but all he found were some canned vegetables, beans, some sort of hard cheese, tea bags, and a cheap, half-empty bottle of whisky.  

Lyall frowned at the sparse pantry. Seeing his expression, Remus spoke defensively. “I mostly eat at the school on Tuesdays and Thursdays, you know. And I'm due for a trip to the shops.”  

Lyall grunted to acknowledge the words. “You don't even have sugar,” he accused.  

Remus sighed and spoke meekly. “I ran out and haven't had a chance to go to the shops - I just told you.”  

Lyall closed the door and looked critically at his son. “I thought you were going to invest in some new clothes, too. Or have you not had a chance to go to that shop either?” Pink circles bloomed on Remus’ white face at the comment.  

“You know how busy I've been…” he mumbled.  

Lyall crossed his arms. “Listen, I know I promised never to ask you about money, but do you need help? Babies are expensive and -”  

“I can take care of Teddy just fine, thank you,” Remus snarled, convincing his father that he was not fine at all.  

“Please, don't be proud about -”  

“I've just been saving the money from the Ministry, alright? I'll have some coming in from the school soon and I'll use that for -” he gestured vaguely at the pantry, then at the raggedy clothes hanging loosely from his body. “And you don't have to worry about Teddy. Dor- his mum had some money she left him.” He blushed again.  

“Isn't it your money now?” Lyall asked, bracing himself for the flash of temper that had become increasingly common the past few months.  

Instead, Remus looked humiliated and muttered, “I need to make sure it lasts.” He focused his gaze on the cracked countertop. “I can't let myself get - things can change at a moment's notice, I know that all too well, and I need to know that if I lost these jobs…” He sagged with a weary sigh, looking even more exhausted than before. 

Lyall lifted a hand as if to grip his son's shoulder but let his hand drop. He spoke gently. “You know, if you'll let me, I will never let you get to a point where you can't - well, let's just say, whatever happens, Teddy will be taken care of, understood? You will always have me, and I am sure Andromeda will step in if there is ever an emergency.”  

Remus shook his head, looking agitated at the mention of his mother-in-law. Lyall could see his muscles tensing, his nails digging into his palms as panic began to take over.  

“No, she could - if the courts think - I could - she might -” his words got caught in his frantic breaths. He clamped a hand to his chest, trying to settle his lungs enough to get some air. His pale face flushed red, and his blue eyes were almost black with fear.  

Lyall helped settle him into a chair, the way he had done when Remus was a child and gripped with similar panic attacks. He rubbed his son's back, shushing him and reminding him to “breathe in, hold, breathe out.”  

When Remus’ breaths had steadied, Lyall cupped his stubbly chin in his hand, lifting his face to meet Lyall's own. “That is not going to happen, do you understand? No one, not even Andromeda, wants to take Teddy from you. We want what is best for him and - even with whatever it is you are going through - being with his father is the best thing for Teddy, okay? I know that and Andromeda knows that, and we will be here to support you both.”  

Remus nodded, looking a bit dazed. Lyall wished his son would allow himself to shed the tears he was so obviously holding back.  

He almost pushed. Almost used his son’s vulnerable state to bring up everything Remus had been hiding from since May - Dora's death, whatever happened at the trial, the fears he was battling about Teddy - but he didn't know where to begin.  

“Do you prefer rye or sourdough?” he said instead. “I'm going into town.”  

[theendwhereibegin]

This chapter is only Pedro's POV. Feels like after all those emotions have resurfaced, Olivia needs a bit of a break from storytelling.

Universally meant. Earthly bound

Part 5

I looked at my phone and the clock read 3 a.m. I wanted to move, but I couldn't as her head rested comfortably on my shoulder as she slept, holding onto my arm, so my head rested back on the sofa.

Last night was an emotional one. Emotional doesn't even begin to describe it.

She laid her entire past in front of me, telling me how it's important that I know everything before I made my decision.

Truth be told, there was no decision left to make as my heart was already in it the moment I laid my eyes on her. I knew she needed for someone, anyone to hear her side of the story without judging her life decision, and I did just that.

Who was I to judge her? Who was I to tell her she was wrong when all she wanted was to be loved in the true sense?

She talked about her ex and everything that happened to her. How he had the audacity of keeping her awake until 6 in the morning to talk about why she wants a divorce whilst he downed a bottle of whisky all by himself, not letting her go to sleep even, whilst she had to go to work early in the morning. How she functioned on no sleep the day after and how he packed his entire life and didn't even fight back for her. That's what broke her heart. The reality that he actually didn't care enough for her to stand his ground and fight for them.

She talked about how much she wanted a child and how she was always told that she was too immature to handle taking care of a baby. How he had the nerve of telling her that if she chooses to stay with him, they can have a child whenever she wants without any issues. He wanted to trap her even more than she already had been for almost their entire relationship.

He toyed with her feelings and desires as he wished, and she was nothing but a pawn that made him feel less alone as it created a false sense of being wanted, I suppose.

He held onto her during the best years of her life, as she called her 20's, a period in which everything was about fun, self-discovery, and feeling alive.

As these thoughts kept bouncing in my head, she stirred a bit while snuggling closer into me. This brought a smile to my face, knowing that she felt safe with me, comfortable with me.

I kissed her forehead while my hand stayed firmly on her back, letting her know that I was still there.

She needed all the comfort and care that this world could offer. She wasn't broken. She just felt lost into a world that moved too fast for her to catch up with, but there was never anything to catch up with.

I still remember the pain that showed on her face whilst talking about her friends who were now all married and with kids and how she was the eternal bridesmaid and aunt. She knew she didn't have to be the same, but she longed for happiness, and her happiness was all about having a family.

She also talked about her family and how they didn't even believe that it wasn't her fault they got a divorce. That truly broke my heart because I know just how much she loves them. Tears were streaming down her face as she told me her mom believed him over her. How his lies about her cheating spread like wild fire, and everyone seemed to take his side without even giving it a second thought.

She felt the need to tell me over and over again that she wasn't a cheater and that she never even thought about another man while she was in that relationship. I wouldn't have blamed her if she did think of another man while he was with her. He quite literally brought nothing to the table whilst she offered him everything. She deserved someone to love her as badly and madly as she loved the person next to her.

Whilst I have had my fair share of relationships, I always felt like I didn't bring enough to the table either, but not because I refused to or didn't want to. It was because I never seemed to find the time to or they were only invested in me because I am famous. So, I decided being alone is better.

My sisters and brother always told me that I should get our there and find someone who is worthy of my love. Someone that would see me for me and less as Pedro Pascal, the actor.

Olivia saw me as me. She never once mentioned Narcos, The Mandalorian, The Last Of Us. Not even once, even though I was in the studio for phots regarding Disney+. She talked about Star Wars and how it was the first movie she's ever seen on VHS. She talked about how she played a lot of computer games in her life, how she was fascinated with true crime documentaries, and staying on top of the world news, but she never once mentioned any of my roles, because she knew I didn't need that from her. I needed to feel normal.

She stirred again, this time to move her arms around my torso while she sighed happily in her sleep. Her eyes were smiling while she slept, and I knew that I was a goner right then and there.

Her features were lit up by the moon shining bright outside her window. Her hair was splayed on the pillow while her hands held onto my side. I could see her brown hair being complimented by a few strands of whites. She decided she didn't want to dye her hair anymore, that she wanted to embrace her natural looks for a while because ageing is good and a part of life.

I admired that. I admired the fact that she knew who she was at this very moment, even if she felt so lost not so long ago. I admired the fact that she embraced her true self and wasn't compromising anymore.

"Pedro, why are you awake?Wait, where am I?" Asked a slightly disoriented and sleepy Olivia.

"It's okay, Liv. We fell asleep on your sofa. I am sorry if I woke you up. " I kissed her lips softly. What she did next made my heart jump out of my chest.

She smiled into the kiss and mumbled something that I couldn't understand. She nuzzled her head into my neck whilst her hand searched for mine to hold while whispering, "I've searched lifetimes for you, baby," and rapidly falling back asleep.

Her words kept playing round and round in my head. 'I've searched lifetimes for you, baby,' and all I could do was hold her tighter because I have spent at least this lifetime looking for her, my Olivia.

Before I knew it, I was wide awake again, but this time, it was 10 in the morning, and the smell of freshly brewed coffee made me get up and go to her kitchen.

I could see her dancing around the kitchen with her headphones on while she was making coffee and preparing breakfast. I stayed in the doorframe admiring her, and then I heard her sing softly to herself

'Something's happening

Happening to me

My friends say I'm acting peculiarly

Come on, baby

We better make a start

You better make it soon

Before you break my heart'

I could recognise these lyrics anywhere. She was playing Fleetwood Mac 'Everywhere' while she made her way from the stove to the fridge and cupboards.

" Why don't I have normal mugs like normal adults do? Guess these ones should do." She was debating with herself and gave in and pulled out two mugs, one with Yoda and one with Chewbacca, and put them on the counter next to her coffee machine.

As she turned around, she saw me standing there just looking at her. Her headphones came flying off her head, and her careless expression turned into shock.

"Please tell me you haven't been there long. Otherwise, I don't think I can survive the embarrassment, " she said while making her way to me with coffee.

" I mean, I think I haven't, but at the same time, I did hear you sing," I said while accepting the coffee that was in her hand. She smiled shyly and took her mug, and sat at the table.

"Can you put that song on your speaker? " I asked, hoping she would. It was one of my favourite songs.

She nodded and connected her speaker, and the song slowly started.

I moved from my spot and offered her my hand. She looked confused at first but just as the lyrics started her hand was in mine and, before we both knew it, we were swaying to it and singing it softly while her head was restung on my chest and our fingers were intertwined.

This was the perfect setting. Morning time with her while the sun shined through her kitchen.

'Can you hear me calling

Out your name?

You know that I'm falling

And I don't know what to say

I'll speak a little louder

I'll even shout

You know that I'm proud

And I can't get the words out'

"If this is how a relationship should be like, I have quite literally never experienced this." she said while we danced through her kitchen.

Little did she know, it was the first time I was experiencing this as well, and it felt so good and warm. It's almost like we've been doing this forever.

'Oh, I

I want to be with you everywhere

Oh, I

I want to be with you everywhere

(Wanna be with you everywhere)'

" You know what? I never did this with anyone, " came my response, which seemed to take her by surprise.

"I do not believe that you never had someone to dance to Fleetwood Mac with," she said while her eyes met mine.

This moment was pure perfection, and I couldn't help but steal a kiss, a kiss that made her blush.

"I danced with my friend Sarah, but this feels different."

'Something's happening

Happening to me

My friends say I'm acting peculiarly

Come on, baby

We better make a start

You better make it soon

Before you break my heart'

"Sarah is nice. I met her years ago. She made me feel so at ease and confident. She's a great lady, " she said while I twirled her around.

"That she is. She is my best friend in a sense, well her and Oscar"

" Oscar, yes. The one that made me give up my only day off because his wife gave birth, and he wanted me to take his sons first photos."

"The very same one."

"He's a nice guy, and his wife is amazing. I didn't mind it. I've grown fond of him and his family. They invited me last Christmas to their place, but unfortunately I couldn't make it."

The song was almost over, and as I looked at her, I realised that I was at the Christmas party.

"You are telling me we were supposed to meet almost a year ago but didn't?" I asked, amused.

"I suppose so if you were also invited. My mum needed my help, so I had to go back home for the holidays. If you ask me, I think we weren't supposed to meet last year. It would have been the wrong timing."

As the song ended and we sat down, I could see her being happy and content. I was feeling the same, and, oh my God, this coffee was heavenly.

"What did you make this coffee with? It's absolutely delicious!"

"It's the way I always make coffee, didn't do anything special. Pressed the correct button, I suppose?" She said, giggling.

I loved seeing her like this. Carefree, happy, and most importantly, mine.

[allmylove-minh]

close your eyes-poem by minh

“In my language, the one I recall now only by closing my eyes, the word for love is Yêu. And the word for weakness is Yếu.” (Ocean Vuong, Time is a Mother)

if you find people you can be weak around, you have succeeded

therein lies the possibility of strength.

of course love is a weakness 

it messes up plans

it morphs into the knife-sharp pain of grief

it takes money, time, energy

like a car, but there’s no warranty. just sightless hands trying desperately to keep away from a crash

you never do see things coming when you’re in love

those rose-colored glasses are firmly superglued to your face

you want to see the best in yourself, 

in the person with tulip-pink lips, 

in the family who problem solves with spirits

when the love goes so do the lenses

you’re left with empty frames and pieces of people 

a favorite painting they took you to see

the grainy, chewy, sour gummies they favored

balls of yarn you can’t knit with

changes within you that cannot be undone

waves of salt and sand can erode cliffs, carve new canyons

each new landmark is a reminder 

this is who you are now.

you will never be without my shadow.

what’s the point? why bother with love if the glasses will break?

one leaves, you’re certain to die

someone is always left with junk

glasses that have lost their usefulness 

every time you go to the museum you cry.

everything is love

it is all god

and it was all made to spite you

some guy named van gogh loved flowers so much that he filled shelves with sketches, paintings 

trying to capture a beauty that would die anyway.

and here you are.

eyes taking in centuries of amor, yếu, sarang.

you’ll die too.

the prospect makes your hands pull at your scalp, your lashes

draws your mouth towards the drink

inspires you to invest in a strawberry flavored vape.

how lovely it is to watch a piece of the universe self destruct.

weak as you are, surrounded by fragility 

sad as things might be, there is still love

weak people go home from the bar smelling of whisky sours.

someone still embraces them.

it’s not permanent.

but we try to make it so

[perspectiveunbound]

Strengthening Scotland's Economy Through Diversification: A Strategy for Future Prosperity

Navigating Economic Uncertainty: The Role of Diversification in Scotland’s Future Prosperity Hello, dear readers! In this post, we delve into a topic of critical importance for safeguarding and advancing Scotland's economic future—diversification. As global economic fluctuations continue to challenge predictability, diversifying our economic base becomes essential, not only to weather the storms but also to seize the opportunities emerging from these changes. Scotland's economy has traditionally been anchored in sectors such as oil and gas, finance, and whisky. While these industries remain valuable, their susceptibility to global price shifts, regulatory changes, and other external pressures can be mitigated through a broader diversification strategy. Diversification into sectors such as technology, life sciences, and renewable energy is not just beneficial; it’s imperative for future-proofing our economy. Technology, in particular, offers expansive possibilities. Edinburgh's growing reputation as a tech hub, especially in fintech and artificial intelligence, provides a glimpse into what could be a flourishing sector with the right support and investment. Furthermore, the life sciences sector in Glasgow shows significant potential, driven by innovation and strong academic collaborations that continue to push boundaries and attract international attention. Renewable energy represents another strategic pillar for Scotland. With our vast natural resources, particularly wind and tidal energy, Scotland is well-positioned to become a global leader in renewables. This not only aligns with global moves towards sustainability but also secures a stake in the green economy of the future. However, economic diversification requires more than identifying potential growth sectors; it necessitates a supportive ecosystem. This means investing in education and skills, enhancing infrastructure, and fostering a regulatory environment that encourages innovation and investment. By doing so, we can create a resilient economy that is less vulnerable to external shocks and capable of sustained growth. I invite everyone to share their thoughts on how Scotland can best achieve a diversified and flourishing economy. What industries do you think we should focus on? What measures should be taken to encourage diversification? Thank you for engaging in this crucial conversation about our economic resilience. Warm regards, Alastair Majury *Perspectives Unbound* --- *Follow Alastair Majury for more insights on leveraging economic diversification to strengthen Scotland’s position on the global stage.*

[beaqle19]

Discover the Best Bourbons of 2024: Our Top Picks for the Connoisseurs

If you’re a bourbon lover or just looking to expand your collection, 2024 is shaping up to be an exciting year for premium bourbons. From time-honored classics to emerging favorites, there’s a wealth of exceptional choices to explore. In this guide, we’ll dive into some of the best bourbons of 2024, featuring renowned names like Weller 12 and Weller Special Reserve, alongside tips on pairing with other fine spirits like Tequila and Azul Tequila. For a curated selection of these top picks, visit Beaqle.com.

1. Weller 12 Year Old Bourbon: A Timeless Classic

When it comes to wheated bourbons, Weller 12 Year Old stands out for its exceptional quality and rich heritage. Aged for twelve years, this bourbon offers a smooth, balanced flavor profile that includes notes of vanilla, almond, and a hint of oak. Its deep bronze color and complex aroma make it a top pick for connoisseurs seeking a sophisticated drinking experience. As a member of the Weller bourbon family, it exemplifies the craft and tradition that make these whiskies so beloved. Explore our selection of Weller bourbons at Beaqle.com.

2. Weller Special Reserve: A Flavorful Entry Point

For those new to the Weller lineup or looking for a more accessible option, Weller Special Reserve is an excellent choice. Known for its slightly sweet, creamy texture and hints of honey and caramel, this bourbon offers great value without compromising on quality. It’s perfect for both sipping neat and mixing into classic cocktails. Whether you’re enjoying a quiet evening at home or entertaining guests, Weller Special Reserve is sure to impress. Discover Weller Special Reserve and more at Beaqle.com.

3. Emerging Favorites: New Bourbons to Watch

While Weller bourbons are perennial favorites, 2024 has introduced several exciting new entries into the bourbon scene. Look out for innovative blends and limited editions that showcase unique aging techniques and flavor profiles. These new arrivals promise to offer something special for both seasoned enthusiasts and newcomers alike. Stay updated on the latest releases by visiting Beaqle.com.

4. Bourbon and Beyond: Pairing with Tequila

If you’re exploring different spirits, consider how bourbon pairs with other fine liquors. For example, Azul Tequila, with its smooth and rich characteristics, can complement a high-quality bourbon. Experimenting with pairings can enhance your tasting experience and offer new ways to enjoy your favorite spirits. Whether you’re hosting a tasting event or simply exploring at home, mixing and matching bourbons with Tequila can lead to delightful discoveries. Find a selection of bourbons and Tequilas at Beaqle.com.

5. Why the Right Bourbon Matters

Selecting the right bourbon can transform an ordinary occasion into a memorable one. High-quality bourbons like Weller 12 and Weller Special Reserve bring out complex flavors and aromas that can elevate any gathering. Investing in top-tier bourbons not only enhances your drinking experience but also adds a touch of sophistication to your collection. For premium bourbons and more, Beaqle.com has you covered.

Conclusion

As you explore the best bourbons of 2024, remember that the journey is just as enjoyable as the destination. With standout options like Weller 12 and Weller Special Reserve, alongside the possibility of discovering new favorites, this year is set to be a remarkable one for bourbon enthusiasts. Don’t forget to explore how these exceptional spirits can be paired with other fine liquors like Tequila for an enhanced tasting adventure. For the best selection of bourbons and other fine spirits, visit Beaqle.com. Cheers to a year of exceptional bourbons and unforgettable experiences!