#business cricket products

[heritageposts]

Ask an older generation of white South Africans when they first felt the bite of anti-apartheid sanctions, and some point to the moment in 1968 when their prime minister, BJ Vorster, banned a tour by the England cricket team because it included a mixed-race player, Basil D’Oliveira. After that, South Africa was excluded from international cricket until Nelson Mandela walked free from prison 22 years later. The D’Oliveira affair, as it became known, proved a watershed in drumming up popular support for the sporting boycott that eventually saw the country excluded from most international competition including rugby, the great passion of the white Afrikaners who were the base of the ruling Nationalist party and who bitterly resented being cast out. For others, the moment of reckoning came years later, in 1985 when foreign banks called in South Africa’s loans. It was a clear sign that the country’s economy was going to pay an ever higher price for apartheid. Neither of those events was decisive in bringing down South Africa’s regime. Far more credit lies with the black schoolchildren who took to the streets of Soweto in 1976 and kicked off years of unrest and civil disobedience that made the country increasingly ungovernable until changing global politics, and the collapse of communism, played its part. But the rise of the popular anti-apartheid boycott over nearly 30 years made its mark on South Africans who were increasingly confronted by a repudiation of their system. Ordinary Europeans pressured supermarkets to stop selling South African products. British students forced Barclays Bank to pull out of the apartheid state. The refusal of a Dublin shop worker to ring up a Cape grapefruit led to a strike and then a total ban on South African imports by the Irish government. By the mid-1980s, one in four Britons said they were boycotting South African goods – a testament to the reach of the anti-apartheid campaign. . . . The musicians union blocked South African artists from playing on the BBC, and the cultural boycott saw most performers refusing to play in the apartheid state, although some, including Elton John and Queen, infamously put on concerts at Sun City in the Bophuthatswana homeland. The US didn’t have the same sporting or cultural ties, and imported far fewer South African products, but the mobilisation against apartheid in universities, churches and through local coalitions in the 1980s was instrumental in forcing the hand of American politicians and big business in favour of financial sanctions and divestment. By the time President FW de Klerk was ready to release Mandela and negotiate an end to apartheid, a big selling point for part of the white population was an end to boycotts and isolation. Twenty-seven years after the end of white rule, some see the boycott campaign against South Africa as a guide to mobilising popular support against what is increasingly condemned as Israel’s own brand of apartheid.

. . . continues at the guardian (21 May, 2021)

[kookslastbutton]

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

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

pairing: ex-husband ceo!jungkook x ceo!reader, actor!taehyung x ceo!reader

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

Word count: 14k+

Warnings: oc and jk are both 30, Taehyung is 32, swearing, tornado of emotions, morally grey characters, mentions of toxic relationships, mentions of broken home/families, mean relatives, mentions of therapy, struggles of self-blame, regret, guilt, denial, self-deprecating in some areas etc., mentions of alcohol consumption, mentions of sexism in the media and business world, there is one scene depicting some physical violence (tame) , finally some fluff!, and I won't spoil any more

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

a/n: OMG....ignore the fact that this is releasing a month after ch. 4. 🫠 i'm sorry. On the bright side, I'm VERY excited to share this with you AND this actually isn’t the last chapter. There’s one more after! I hope you enjoy 🥰 ALSO, this is GP!Taehyung in this chapter (....😮‍💨)

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"This can't be right," you mutter to yourself for the umpteenth time, eyes heavily fixated on your laptop screen. You've been scrolling through the latest press releases all morning, a cup of tea growing cold beside you.

Ever since Jimin’s text last week, rumors about your ex-husband stepping down from his position at JeonX practically spread like wildfire, with nearly every journalist adding their individual spin on the matter—some suggest personal issues, while others hint at possible disagreements within the company.

Despite the influx of information, however, it all remains too vague and inconclusive. An official statement from the company directly would help clear up speculations, but it’s been crickets. Their silence only makes you consider the validity of the rumors even more.

Why would they make such a critical leadership change right after their newest product launch though?

This question, among others, continuously swirl in the back of your mind and you find the entire predicament ironic. You used to be one of the first to know the ins and outs of the company, easily able to distinguish the truth. Now, you're left in the dark like everyone else, dependent on the media for answers.

Before your eyes have time to skim the next group of articles on your screen, your phone rings.

It's Taehyung.

“Hey,” you answer casually, momentarily forgetting the significance of the call.

“Morning!” His voice is gravelly yet carries a cheerful tone. He seems quite upbeat for a foggy Saturday at 8 a.m. “Are you still okay to carpool to my parents' place today? Tan and I are on our way over.”

Dammit. Of course, this isn’t just any old Saturday—it’s the day of Taehyung’s family gathering. It had slipped your mind that you asked to ride together a few days prior. Given that it would be a five-hour long commute, driving separately seemed less convenient and enjoyable. Besides, you’d miss out on having Tan on your lap, his head poking out of the passenger-side window.

“Yeah, I’m good to go,” you reply, trying to sound more confident than you feel. “I’ll be ready when you get here.”

“Great! See you soon.” Taehyung hangs up, and you put your phone down with a deep breath.

To be blunt, you're still extremely nervous about the affair. Surely his family knows who you are and has seen their fair share of articles about you. So how will they react when you show up next to Taehyung at their family function? He says they’ll like you, but it's hard to accept.

Nonetheless, you know how important this family gathering is to him and how much he wants you to be there. Not only is it a family event, but it’s also a celebration of his recovery from a motorcycle accident that could’ve been much worse.

As you pour your cold cup of tea down the sink, you try to push away the unsettling mix of thoughts, focusing instead on the next task at hand— how you should dress. Prior conversations with Taehyung advise you that something polished would be ideal for the occasion, as his family appreciates a touch of elegance, yet your mind blanks on a tangible option. Surely, there’s something in the back of your closet that would do the trick. Right?

Well…you’re right-ish.

Upon searching through rows of hangers, arms growing tired, you finally find a somewhat suitable sundress. You’re hoping it won’t look too casual, but you don’t seem to have a better alternative with your closet currently overtaken by work clothes.

Wasting no further time, you quickly slip the dress over your head and observe how it fits in the mirror. Not bad, you think, before deciding on a few complimentary jewelry pieces. The saving grace of this choice of clothing is that it can easily be dolled up, which is exactly what’s needed today.

Soon, you hear the muffling of an engine and when you peek through your bedroom window, you’re unsurprised to see Taehyung’s car pull into the driveway with a very excited Tan poking his head out from the backseat. A small smile forms on your lips at the sight.

Sparing one final look in the mirror, you slide into your shoes, toss your bag over a shoulder, and head outside to meet them.

“Hey!” Per usual, you're met with a warm smile as you hop into Taehyung's car but before you can return the greeting, Tan bounds onto your lap, tail wagging eagerly. “God, I’m so sorry about him,” Taehyung reaches for his dog, but you quickly reassure him it’s alright.

“I’m happy to see you too, Tan,” you laugh, petting him affectionately. Your focus then shifts over to Taehyung, "Thanks for coming to get me."

“Of course,” he replies, smile widening as he watches Tan settle into your lap. “I’m really glad you’re coming with me," he continues, pulling away from the curb. "My parents are looking forward to meeting you.”

You nod, trying to calm your fluttering nerves. “I’m looking forward to meeting them too.” This time, when you glance his way, you take in his attire—a crisp white button-up shirt, sleeves rolled to the elbows, and black dress pants. It’s a classic look, yet it seems oddly refreshing on him. It's not like you expected Taehyung to look bad or anything; far from it, but did he always have to look this good? A queasy feeling soon settles in the pit of your stomach...maybe you should have worn something else.

Before you're able to fully turn away from him, Taehyung speaks up. “You look really nice today,” he says softly, eyes lingering over your face and down your body before shyly refocusing on the road. “That dress is beautiful on you—it really suits you.”

“Oh, thank you,” you reply with a shy smile of your own, unexpectant of his comment. “You don’t look half bad yourself.”

Something about the subtle exchange of compliments stirs a bundle of nerves in both of you and even with averted eyes, neither of you finds it entirely unpleasant.

The rest of the drive is long, but luckily, soon fills with lighthearted conversation and laughter. It's become easier and easier to be around Taehyung, you think.

After more than a few bathroom breaks—mostly due to Tan’s persistent whining—you finally catch sight of Taehyung’s parent’s house.

It’s even more picturesque than you imagined, with its charming architecture and well-tended garden. In the distance, the ocean glimmers, tying the scene perfectly together.

“I meant to mention earlier, but my parents have an oceanfront view,” Taehyung says casually, pulling up to the house. “We can go down there later if you’d like. It’s private access.”

“Really?” You glance over at him with anticipation, your excitement clear. You can already taste the saltiness of the water. “If it’s really okay, I’d love that.”

“It’s more than okay,” he assures with a smile. “In fact, it’s a done deal. The best time to go is in the evening. We can even use the excuse that we need to take Tan for a little stroll if necessary. Family bonding can get a bit overwhelming without a few breaks.” He lets out a chuckle but stops when he notices your slightly demure expression.

“Hey,” he turns to you with gentle eyes. “Everything okay?”

You blink, momentarily pulled from your thoughts. “Oh, yeah, sorry. I was just thinking it’s been a while since I’ve gone to any kind of family affair. They know I’m coming, right?”

Understanding your apprehension, Taehyung shifts the gear into park and places a light hand on your arm. “Absolutely, and please believe me when I say they’re more than ready and excited to meet you. They’ve asked about you so many times—I’m pretty sure I’ve lost count. I’m really happy you’re here with me too, so I hope you don’t feel like you’re intruding because I promise you’re not at all. And if at any point you need a moment to yourself, take it. I want you to feel as comfortable as possible, and I’m confident my family will want the same.”

With his hand on your arm, you find yourself wrapping yourself in the comfort of the gesture, nerves slowly easing in the process. “Thanks, Tae,” you reply, feeling a tad lighter than before.

“Are you ready?”

You nod, signaling him to remove his hand to take the key out of the ignition. As his hand leaves your arm however, you feel a subtle, unexpected shift—wishing the warmth of his touch could linger just a moment longer.

But hold up.

Since when did he affect you like this?

Dwelling on it further proves to be futile because before you can blink, the house’s front door swings wide open, revealing an older, petite woman with a kind and inviting smile. You both step out of the car immediately, Tan happily trotting around the yard confidently.

The woman pulls Taehyung into a big hug once close enough, and it’s all the evidence you need to deduce that she must be his mother.

“We were wondering where you were!” she starts. “Everyone’s here except you.” It’s a light scold, not that Taehyung minds from the giant grin spreading across his face.

“Forgive me, Mom. I guess we’re fashionably late,” he replies.

Mrs. Kim looks up and down her son with adoration, hands still gripping his arms. “Look at you,” she coos, as if proud. “My son is so handsome. I’m so happy to see you here, healthy and well.”

“Mom, this is __.”

Her eyes then shift to you, standing somewhat awkwardly beside them. If possible, her warm expression brightens even more, taking you by surprise.

“My goodness, I’m being so rude," she says, stepping toward you. "It’s wonderful to finally meet you, honey. Are you okay with hugs?”

“Sure.” You offer a sincere smile and embrace her. When you do, you feel a sense of peacefulness that you hadn’t ever before, soothing any lingering tension. You can’t help but assume that many of Taehyung’s qualities must come from her.

“I’m so pleased that my son brought you today,” she says, pulling back from the hug. She takes in your clothing as well. “You're absolutely lovely, my dear. Doesn't this color work wonderfully on her?” She glances at Taehyung, who merely nods in agreement.

“You’re the one who looks beautiful, Mrs. Kim,” you return the compliment, feeling a tad embarrassed by all the praise. “I love your earrings by the way. Are they jade?”

She nods, pleasantly. “Thank you for noticing. They’re indeed jade. My husband gifted them to me for our anniversary last year. I told him he didn’t need to get me anything, but that man is so persistent. Speaking of which, you should come inside and meet him.” She turns around at once and ushers you and Taehyung into the house. He allows you to go first.

As you follow Mrs. Kim up the steps, Tan bounds ahead excitedly. The aroma of delicious food fills the air the further you walk, and soon you’re greeted by a cozy, homey atmosphere.

Finally, you find Taehyung’s father in the kitchen, washing his hands at the sink. “Honey, Taehyung’s here and he brought __ with him.” Upon hearing your name, the man quickly dries his hands on a towel and extends a friendly hand your way, eyes twinkling.

“Hello, __! I’m glad you could come today. We’ve heard so much about you.”

“Likewise,” you reply, “Thank you for welcoming me into your home. It’s gorgeous in here.”

“Well, we have our son to thank.” He directs his attention to Taehyung, reaching out and patting his son on the back with a proud smile. “He bought this house for us after all. He’s a good son.”

What?

You glance at Taehyung in surprise, intrigued to learn more about this new bit of information. However, seemingly flustered by the comment, you decide it’s better to save it for another time. His mother is quick to step in.

“Taehyung, dear, why don’t you show __ around and introduce her to everyone?” she suggests smoothly. “They’re all in the living room. We’ll gather everyone to have lunch soon.”

Taehyung nods at the suggestion and begins leading you through the house, until you reach the living room at the end of the hall. The room is even larger than you anticipated upon entering, its high ceilings finished with a delicate glass chandelier. A grand piano sits in the far corner as well where a number of children huddle together, each taking turns playing a few notes.

One by one, Taehyung starts introducing you to his relatives and despite your initial apprehension, each person you meet greets you with nothing but warmth and kindness. Not even a single person shows discomfort towards you or makes a dig into your personal life (though you’re certain they’re well aware of who you are). It’s no wonder Taehyung boasts about his family so often—they truly are a close-knit and respectable group of people.

At least, that’s what you think until Taehyung asks, “Where's Auntie and Uncle? I haven’t seen them yet.”

One of Taehyung’s cousins looks a bit hesitant before replying, “Oh, Tae, I’m sorry, but we haven’t heard anything from them so they might not be coming today. Maybe they had last-minute plans. It’s a bit of a shame, really.”

An odd silence settles over the room at this, conversations lower in volume, and a few knowing glances are exchanged among relatives. The abrupt shift seems to throw a wrench into your previous statement of closeness since, evidently, the absence of Taehyung’s aunt and uncle casts a dark shadow over the cheerful gathering.

Sensing an awkward lull, Taehyung tries to lighten the mood with a bright smile. “Well, I’m sure we’ll still have a great time. I’m just happy to see everyone here.” He gently redirects the conversation to something more upbeat, attempting to remedy the unusual tension.

Just then, a small figure bursts into the room, capturing everyone’s attention.

A little girl, no more than six or seven years old, runs straight toward Taehyung with arms outstretched. “Taetae!” she shouts, using the affectionate nickname as she latches herself around his legs.

Taehyung's face breaks into possibly the happiest grin you’ve seen in response as he kneels to lift her up effortlessly, holding her close as she giggles. “Hey, sweetheart! I missed you!” His voice is filled with affection, though there’s a hint of shock as well.

Eagerly, the little girl secures her arms around his neck. “I missed you too! Mommy and Daddy said we might not be able to come, but here we are!”

“Well, I'm so glad! Have you been a good girl for your parents?” he asks with a playful tone.

The little girl nods vigorously. “Yes! I’ve been helping Mommy with so much lately.”

“Good job!” Taehyung says, giving her a high five.

You’re unsure exactly how the two relate, but the longer you watch the interaction unfold, the more evident it becomes that Taehyung’s a natural at connecting with children. His playful demeanor and patience make it clear that he has a special way with them. It’s heartwarming to see, quite honestly.

“Taetae, who’s she?” the little girl asks suddenly, her big, curious eyes setting on you.

Taehyung smiles and gestures for you to come closer. “This is __. She’s my friend.” He looks at you and adds, “This is my little cousin Eun-ha. We’re quite close.”

“Hi, Eun-ha,” you greet with a soft smile. “It’s so nice to meet you.”

She doesn’t return your greeting, but rather leans into Taehyung’s ear and whispers something you can’t quite hear.

Taehyung chuckles softly, though it does little to conceal your curiosity. “No, Eun-ha,” he says, shaking his head. “We don’t kiss like in my movies. But yes, she's very pretty.”

Though you wish otherwise, your surprise is barely hidden as you process the revelation.

“Why not?” Eun-ha asks, puzzled. “You kiss lots of pretty people in the movies.”

Flustered, Taehyung clears his throat. “Who’s letting you watch my shows? You’re a little young for those I think.”

“She likes to watch them when she can’t see you,” a new voice interjects.

Following the voice, you see two adults entering the room– Taehyung’s aunt and uncle. Their expressions are clearly stiff and somewhat distant, a stark contrast to the warmth of the rest of the family.

“Well, I guess it’s okay then,” Taehyung responds, maintaining his usual beaming smile. “Auntie, Uncle, it’s good to see you.”

His aunt and uncle offer polite but somewhat curt greetings.

“Glad to see you’re alright, Taehyung,” his aunt says, her tone lacking warmth.

“Hello,” his uncle adds, his expression neutral. “I see you’ve brought a guest.” He nods toward you.

“Yes, this is __,” Taehyung introduces you, “She’s a friend of mine and a colleague as well.”

The pair glance at you briefly, their eyes betraying a lack of interest.

“Nice to meet you,” his aunt says, though the thickness in her tone suggests otherwise.

“Likewise,” you respond, trying to match their formality with a friendly smile.

“You know, when I heard my nephew was bringing a guest, I wasn’t quite sure what to expect,” she continues, though the implication is unclear.

“I’m sorry?” you ask, trying to grasp her meaning.

“My apologies. I work as an editor for a journalism outlet, so I’ve come across your name before,” she explains. “It’s always interesting to see people in person after reading about them. I can’t say I ever imagined having the opportunity today.”

“Oh,” you say, trying to keep your composure. “I hope the coverage has been accurate.” You know they haven’t been, aside from a couple of progressive news outlets. Based on her rigid stare, you don’t think she belongs to either of them.

“They’re accurate most of the time,” she replies, her eyes narrowing slightly. “Although, there are always…different perspectives on such matters.”

You offer a polite, tight-lipped smile in response. Despite your best efforts to remain composed, however, your hands unconsciously clench into fists at your sides, indicating your bubbling discomfort.

“Well, I’m sure those articles are just one side of the coin,” Taehyung chimes in, attempting to smooth over the conversation. “I’m of the mindset that you really don’t know a person until you spend time with them. And I can assure you, those overpriced tabloids have it all wrong.” He shoots you a reassuring look.

In the midst of it all, Taehyung’s father steps into the room, oblivious to the tension. “Alright everyone, it’s time to eat!” he announces, his voice carrying a cheerful note. “Let’s gather around now.”

Neither you nor Taehyung’s aunt speak another word to each other as you follow his father into the dining room. You take a deep breath along the way, an attempt to steady yourself.

As lunch begins, Taehyung’s father stands at the head of the table, a broad smile on his face as he raises a glass.

“We want to thank everyone for being here today to celebrate Taehyung’s recovery,” he begins, his voice filled with heartfelt sincerity. “We’re grateful for this family and for the love and support that has carried us through. To Taehyung!”

“To Taehyung!” everyone echoes, lifting their glasses in a unified cheer.

From then on, the meal progresses smoothly, with conversation gradually returning to pleasant topics. Dishes are passed around, and laughter helps lighten the mood. Taehyung’s parents share stories of their journey together, their voices rich with wisdom and nostalgia. As you listen, you get a glimpse of the morals that have shaped their family. It’s so different from your own upbringing, and you feel honored to be a part of it today.

Yet it's still difficult to ignore the lingering heaviness in your chest from your earlier interaction with Taehyung’s aunt. Even now, her sour expression is directed your way, though she seems to withhold her remarks, perhaps due to Mr. and Mrs. Kim’s presence.

Don’t take this personally, you repeat in your head. There’s likely some underlying history or traditional views being projected onto you. This isn’t really about you…don't take it personally.

Midway through the meal, Taehyung’s mother intrigues everyone by pulling out a collection of old photographs. She begins sharing the backstories of various childhood photos of Taehyung, the corners of her eyes crinkling with joy and amusement as she recounts each memory. Taehyung, visibly flustered, tries to hide his blush as his family teases him.

“Oh, look at this one!” his mother exclaims, holding up a particularly old photo of a much younger Taehyung with a hilariously exaggerated hairstyle. “He was so determined to be a rock star!”

The room bursts into laughter, and Taehyung grins sheepishly, his cheeks rosy. “Is this really necessary? I mean __’s here…”

“Come on, Tae, it’s cute!” you say with a smile, giving his arm a playful shove. As you do, Taehyung’s aunt’s eyes widen slightly. Her gaze shifts sharply between you two, and a flicker of disapproval crosses her face. You stop your playfulness upon first notice, finding it hard to ignore.

“It’s embarrassing,” Taehyung retorts, unaware of his aunt’s reaction.

“Oh hush,” his mother replies with a warm smile. “Let a mother indulge in the memories of her children. You’re all grown up now, and with your busy schedule, I hardly see you anymore.”

“Alright, fair point,” Taehyung concedes. “Carry on.”

When the meal winds down, Taehyung’s aunt clears her throat and speaks up. “Is everyone ready for dessert? I’ve baked a homemade cake,” she announces, tone carrying a hint of forced cheerfulness. Turning to you, she adds, “Would you mind assisting me in the kitchen, __? I could use an extra hand.”

Taehyung immediately offers to help, but his aunt insists on speaking with you alone, masking it as an opportunity to get to know you better.

Once you’re in the kitchen and away from prying eyes and ears, Taehyung’s aunt’s demeanor shifts abruptly. She returns to her previous blunt and unreserved nature. “I need to be honest with you,” she begins, her voice low and steely. “I don’t think you should be here.”

Her words sting, yet a part of you can’t help but wonder if there’s some merit to them.

“I know this is a family event, and I’m sorry if it seems like I’m intruding. Taehyung invited me.”

“No, that’s not what I meant,” she dismisses, venom lacing her tone. “I mean, you shouldn’t be here with Taehyung.”

“I’m not sure what you’re referring to—”

“Oh please, don’t pretend I don’t have eyes, Ms. __,” she interjects sharply. The use of your formal name sends a chill down your spine. “You may be friends now, but I can see there’s more going on beneath the surface. Unlike the rest of my family, I won’t just stand by and let it happen. So, if you think you can charm your way into my nephew’s life just like you did with that ex-husband of yours, then you’re mistaken. I won’t allow you to ruin his life.”

Ruin his life? You ruined Jungkook’s life and now you are about to ruin Taehyung’s? Confused and hurt, you finally realize the root of the matter–she's convinced you’re a gold digger.

You’re stunned by the accusation, struggling to find words as she continues. “There’s nothing you can say to change my mind either. Even if the articles aren’t exactly true, you still have a past, and Taehyung deserves better—someone without all these complications. Don’t you agree? Maybe if you hadn’t been married before and were ten years younger, things might be different. But honestly? A woman your age should already have a family of her own.”

Silence falls heavily in the kitchen after her final words, the only sound being your labored breaths. Your throat goes dry and your hands clammy as some of your deepest insecurities take root, striking right at your core.

It’s true—you’re 30 years old, divorced, and without children. It’s a stark contrast to your peers.

You’d always imagined your life turning out differently, but here you are, alone and without any kind of companionship. You weren’t expecting to be reminded of it all today.

“I think you’ve made yourself clear about how you feel,” a voice speaks up, and you think it’s yours, until you realize it’s much too deep.

Taehyung’s aunt looks momentarily stunned to see her nephew standing in the doorway, his expression a mixture of shock and anger. But she quickly regains her composure. “Taehyung, I was just—”

“Please don’t,” he interrupts, voice firm. “If I had known you were going to be this cruel towards someone I deeply care about, then I’m sorry I invited you.”

He steps closer, his gaze unwavering. “You have no right to judge someone you don’t know based on rumors and assumptions.”

His aunt’s face softens, though her disapproval remains. “I’m only looking out for you. I don’t want you to get hurt.”

“I don’t need you to protect me from my own choices,” Taehyung replies, his voice calmer. “I’ve made my own decisions, and __ is a part of that. If you can’t respect that, then maybe you should reconsider how you approach these situations.”

Taehyung’s aunt stands silent for a moment, her gaze shifting between Taehyung and you. She seems to weigh his words before finally nodding and turning back towards the dining room, her displeasure still evident.

Taehyung turns to you, his face etched with worry. “Are you alright?”

You hesitate, unable to give a clear response. “I… I think I need some air,” you finally say.

“Maybe it’s time we take that walk down to the beach,” he suggests gently. “What do you think? Of course, if you’d prefer to go solo, that’s completely your call too. I’ll understand either way.”

You nod, appreciating the idea. “I’d like you to come with me.”

“Let me grab Tan and we can head down,” Taehyung says with a reassuring smile.

The sound of the waves grows louder as you approach the ocean, providing a soothing backdrop to your racing thoughts. It's even more beautiful up close, you think, observing how the sun reflects off the water.

As you walk along the shore, Tan runs ahead, chasing the waves and barking playfully. The sight of him brings a small smile to your face, easing some of the heaviness in your chest.

Taehyung walks beside you, his presence peaceful, though neither of you are quick to speak.

Finally, after a few minutes pass, he breaks the silence.

“I’m really sorry about what happened back there," he says quietly. "My aunt's always had more traditional perspectives, but I didn’t know how rigid they’d gotten. Regardless of how she might've made you feel, I want you to know that you’re very important to me and I couldn't care less about what the public says. The rest of my family seems to love you too so far."

You take a deep breath, the salty air filling your lungs. “It’s not your fault, Taehyung. But thank you.” You pause, your face visibly conflicted. “To be honest, I’ve heard variations of it before from other people. I just didn’t expect her to be so… direct.”

He nods, turning to you with sincerity. “I know it was hurtful, and even though I didn’t hear everything she said, you didn’t deserve it. It's not true, either.”

You manage a small, tight-lipped smile, but it hardly matches how you feel inside. “Well,” you begin, continuing your walk, “some of it's true, I think.” Taehyung looks at you with concern, though you struggle to hold his gaze.

“Wanna sit?” he suggests lightly, gesturing to a spot on the beach with a clear view of the waves ahead. "Tan'll be fine to roam around on his own."

You nod slowly in reply, a gentle breeze caressing your face and feathering against your legs as you move.

Once you reach the area, you tuck the skirt of your dress beneath your thighs and take a seat on the soft sand. Taehyung sits down beside you.

“So,” he starts again, his eyes never leaving your face, “what’s true?"

You take a moment, watching the waves crash against the shore before forming a response. “It’s just…” Your voice falters as you search for the right words. “I’m 30 years old. The natural course for someone my age is to have a family, a couple of kids, and of course, be married. Or at the very least, have a reliable romantic partner.”

“Instead,” you take a short breath, “it feels like I’m living in a completely different reality from everyone else. Divorced from a big shot CEO, without children, and painted as some kind of spinster or gold digger for the media to exploit. Being a woman, there's really no in-between which makes it that much harder to overcome."

Upon finishing your thought, an unmistakable nervousness bubbles up within you. Had you just overshared? Were you too honest? Although unsettled, everything in you hopes that you didn't just overstep your boundaries with Taehyung, as the two of you hadn't had this deep of a conversation before. You find yourself holding your breath as he replies.

"To have all that unnecessary pressure placed on you is unfair,” he says quietly. “I can’t imagine how tough it must be to feel disregarded and reduced to so little. I'm so sorry, __. I'm sorry that we gets so fixated on image and what’s deemed proper that we often forget the real meaning behind things. I know it might be hard to believe, but there’s more to your story than what others see or say. More than even you might think, too."

As if inevitable, your vision goes misty and a tear spills down your cheek upon hearing his words, though you're quick to wipe it away. It's not that the words themselves are monumental, but rather, they confirm the closeness of your relationship. Few people have ever understood or cared to understand you, so you had stopped expecting it altogether, especially after your divorce. Yet somehow, Taehyung always surprises you, being one of the few who truly does.

Feeling a bit more comfortable, you admit, "I know it's probably an overstatement, but I can't help but feel like I'm alone in ways that are hard to escape. Some days I just don't know what to do with it all. Does that make sense?"

“Sweetheart,” Taehyung says softly, taking the hand you used to wipe your tears and lacing his fingers with yours. The warmth of his touch sends a comforting spark through you. He’s never called you that before, and it feels unexpectedly intimate—almost domestic, if you didn’t know better.

“It makes complete sense, especially given what you've gone through and still are. You don’t ever have to feel alone anymore though,” he continues. “I’m here for you. You have Jimin and Namjoon too. And the three of us? We’ll always have your back.”

Your eyes soften as you meet his gaze. He’s looking at you with such warmth and innocence, yet he hasn’t fully grasped the weight of your words.

“I appreciate it,” you say gratefully. “It’s not all one-dimensional, though. When I say I feel alone, I mean relationally as well because, given my age and marital status, it's unlikely I'll find any real companionship. I’m just considered ‘used goods' after all.”

“Used goods? Who the hell said you're used?” Taehyung’s voice rises, not in anger but in genuine offense. Amid his reaction, his hand slips from yours.

“Our entire society?” you retort, raising your voice before lowering it again, realizing he means well. You pull your legs up to your chin and hug them. “I’m divorced, Tae. I’m no beauty queen. Just used goods, as I said.”

You both stare out into the distance, falling into a brief silence.

“Well, I for one think you’re very gorgeous,” he says softly, still gazing ahead. “So please, don’t call yourself used. You’re definitely not.”

“Tae—”

“Do you wish you were still married?” he interjects gently, eyes returning to yours, searching for the truth. He wants to add, To Jungkook? but keeps it to himself, not deeming it his business.

You take a moment to process his question before responding.

���Some days I do,” you admit. “Not just with anyone, though. I’ve already learned my lesson the hard way. Jimin tried setting me up with a few of his coworkers a while back, but I declined. They’re so far away that I doubt anything would work out. Plus, not to be harsh but who in their right mind would risk it with me anyway?”

“I mean...I would,” he replies almost immediately, insistence in his voice. There's no trace of bluff at all and for a moment, your heart feels like it's doing about a hundred somersaults in your chest. Taehyung's seriousness makes it seem like he means it in a deeper way, but it can't be—he’s merely speaking figuratively because of your closeness.

“Of course you would,” you reply, grabbing his hand again and smiling gratefully. “Because you love me, right?”

You pose the question playfully, feeling your mood lift slightly, but Taehyung’s expression turns stunned, like a deer caught in headlights.

“I do,” he finally murmurs, deep and meaningful, a soft glimmer in his eyes. “I really do.”

"Hu-" you choke on your words, still trying to process his. You never finish, though, as Taehyung suddenly moves to stand up, a newfound cheekiness taking precedence over his face.

“Come on,” he says, “on a warm day like this, we should find a way to enjoy ourselves. Dance with me.”

“What?” you ask, though to be honest, you're not surprised by his spontaneity. “Dancing is a no, Tae. You know I have zero rhythm.”

He doesn’t reply to your argument but instead draws his phone from his pocket, tapping around until light jazz music starts playing. He turns up the volume as loud as he can before placing it on the ground beside you.

“What are you doing?” you watch as he begins swaying his body from side to side, snapping his fingers when the beat feels right.

“I’m dancing by myself since you refuse to get up.”

You laugh, “I happen to like it this way. You can be my source of entertainment.” You adjust yourself so your legs are stretched out in front of you, feet crossed as you lean back on your arms.

He chuckles and continues dancing in small circles. You feel a little guilty the longer you watch. But then...

“__,” he calls your name, low and raspy. He steps over towards you and leans down until he's face to face with you. You like the way the sun glows down on his face, and the thought crosses your mind—he looks incredibly handsome. “__,” he calls your name again, and you realize you've been staring a little too long.

“Sorry,” you reply. “Sun’s making me dazed.”

He gives his usual boxy smile, and damn, why are you feeling so affected by him today? It’s not usually this much.

“Will you please dance with me? I don’t mind dancing by myself, but I prefer a partner.” He pouts and you know you’re done for.

“I’m not going to be good though,” you reply, reluctantly rising from your comfortable seated position. Taehyung pulls you into his hold the moment you’re on your feet. It's a little rougher than he meant, and your bodies accidentally collide in the process.

“Shit, my bad,” he says, taking a small step back.

“It’s fine," you assure, doing the same but not before catching a whiff of his cologne. You can't quite place the scent, but it’s nice...really, really nice.

As the music continues to play, you both sway gently to the rhythm. Taehyung’s touch is warm and steady as he guides you through each simple step. You feel a strange sense of comfort and safety in his arms, and for a moment, it feels like the rest of the world fades away.

“I didn’t realize you were such a good dancer,” you start. “You’ve been keeping secrets from me.”

He spins you gently, and you let out a surprised laugh, the sound mingling with the soft notes of the jazz music. “I had to take ballroom dancing lessons for a role I played years ago,” he replies smoothly, “but I enjoyed it, so I kept it up.” When you come back to him, he holds you a little tighter, and the closeness feels more intimate and special than you anticipated.

“You’re doing great, by the way,” he whispers, his breath warm against your ear. "Even with barely any practice."

“All thanks to you,” you reply, a shy smile tugging at your lips. “I guess it’s kinda fun.”

“See? Not so bad,” he says with a triumphant grin.

You glance towards the ocean, feeling a rush of spontaneity yourself. “The water looks so inviting. We should go in.”

He quirks a brow, taking in both of your more formal attire. “Dressed like this?” he asks.

You don’t answer. Instead, you slide out of his hold and run towards the water, laughing and splashing him once he’s close enough behind you.

“Hey! This was expensive!” he shouts, but there's no threat in his voice, only amusement.

“Well, you shouldn’t have worn it around me then!” you tease, splashing him again.

Now nearly drenched, Taehyung huffs and bends down to scoop water into his palm. “You’re gonna get it…” You back away quickly, but he follows after you. “Come here, I have a very special gift for you __,” he says mischievously, water spilling from his hand as he chases you.

You both end up playing in the water for the next ten minutes, splashing and laughing until you find yourself regaining confidence. At some point, Taehyung unexpectedly tackles you from behind, his arms wrapping so tightly around your waist that no amount of movement would free you.

You find yourselves too lost in amusement to notice your closeness until small droplets of water begin falling from above.

"Was that rain?" You stop all movement, but his grip doesn’t loosen. "Tae?" You call his name when it seems he doesn’t register your question, twisting your head over your shoulder to peer at him.

“Oh…um, sorry,” he finally stammers, a faint blush rising to his cheeks as he realizes the tight hold he has on you. His body flushes against your back.

“No, it’s okay…” you struggle to conceal a blush of your own, the warmth of his embrace a little overpowering. "So, I think we should head back. I'm pretty sure it's raining."

He nods and slowly unwraps his arms from around you. "I agree, but where's Tan?" His eyes frantically scan around the beach. "Tan!" he calls, and soon, two fluffy, slightly damp ears pop out from behind a rock.

"Aww," you exclaim, bending down to pick up the little dog when he trots over. "Look at him. We neglected the baby."

Taehyung snorts at your remark. "He'll be okay. It barely started."

You pretend to cover Tan's ears and shoot Taehyung a faux alarmed expression. "He can hear you, you know."

Taehyung chuckles and gently cups Tan’s face while he nestles in your arms, planting a soft kiss on the top of his head. “Sorry, buddy,” he says with a grin. As he looks up, he catches a prolonged gaze in your eyes and raises an eyebrow. “What? You want one too?”

“Oh, uhm, no,” you laugh, a bit nervously, shaking your head. “It’s just nice to see you so endearing.” You think back to how Taehyung had interacted so sweetly with his younger cousin, Eun-ha, earlier. It’s a side of him you're finding increasingly appealing.

Taehyung's gaze softens as he replies, “I like to take care of those I love.”

Love, you repeat quietly to yourself. It sounds so different when he says it.

You smile and, side by side, head back to the house.

The faint drizzle of rain quickly turns into a downpour, with a flash of lightning illuminating the sky and thunder rumbling in the distance. Despite the potential inconvenience, Taehyung’s parents insist that it would be better for both of you to wait until morning to drive back.

"It isn't safe," his mom advises, fluffing a pillow in the guest bedroom. "The two of you can stay here for the night. I’d offer the living room sofa too, but some of your cousins are staying over as well."

"Thanks, Mom," Taehyung replies, and when she leaves the room he casts a brief glance your way. “I’ll sleep on the floor.”

“What? No, you can sleep in the bed with Tan." You pause, eyes scanning the room for an alternative spot. “This chair looks pretty comfortable. I’ll grab a blanket and make do.”

"Okay no, I’m not letting you sleep on that old, dusty chair and risk waking up with a giant kink in your neck.” Taehyung places his hands on his hips, his tone firm. “Why don’t we just sleep in the bed together? For some inexplicable reason, my parents chose to put a California King in here so there should be plenty of room. I’ll even sleep on top of the covers.”

“No, it's fine. Tan needs his space."

“Sweetheart." There it is again, that same petname from earlier. Why do you not seem to hate it? "Tan is so tiny he’ll literally curl between us," he argues, though it does little to convince you.

“Tae, I told you it’s—”

“Alright, I’ll take the chair then-” Taehyung starts to move toward it, but stubbornly, you block his path. There's no way he's sleeping on a chair when you're the guest here.

“You will do no such thing!" Naturally, you place your hands on your hips. “This is your home—well, your parent's home and I won't be subjecting you to sleep on something that small. Seriously Tae, I'd fit much better on it than you would given our height differences.”

A small, frustrated sigh escapes him as he counters, “I'd really rather you be comfortable, especially in an unfamiliar environment. So can we please stop arguing about this? It’s really unnecessary. Either I take the chair or we both find a way to share the bed. You can’t tell me you and Jimin never shared a bed before, and he’s your friend too!"

“Yes, but that’s different,” you insist. “Jimin and I have been friends for years! There’s a strong trust built between us.”

“What do you mean by that? You don’t trust me?” His face mirrors that of a sad, puppy-dog.

“Tae, it’s not that at all,” you say softly, trying to sound reassuring. “I do trust you. It’s just… I guess I just meant that Jimin and I have a long history together. We’ve grown very comfortable with each other in ways you and I haven’t yet.”

Taehyung’s brows furrow in concern. “What are you really worried about, __?”

You shrug, feeling a bit flustered. “Nothing…”

Your mind immediately drifts back to the beach—how he listened, held your hand gently, the way his eyes crinkled when he laughed, and what it felt like to be held so close under the rain. Everything felt so genuine, warm, and openly vulnerable.

You share similar feelings with Jimin, but they have limits as you are definitely only friends… best friends, to be precise. With Taehyung, you figured it would be the same; however, after today, you're realizing more and more how unsure you are of where the limits are (or where you want them to be), and it startles you.

But it’s not this alone that fuels your apprehension tonight— there’s something else.

“You know I won’t do anything right?” Taehyung asks, his voice earnest. “I sleep with five pillows!”

You raise an eyebrow, a faint smile tugging at your lips despite yourself. “Five? What the hell, Tae? Are you a princess?”

“Yes,” Taehyung says, more nonchalantly than expected, “but stop deflecting. It sounds weird and a bit kinky, but why won’t you sleep in the bed with me?”

Should you tell him?

Your expression grows serious as you explain, “Because it can be very intimate,” you murmur softly. “Maybe I'm overthinking it all, but the last time I shared a bed with someone it...uhm...it was…”

“...with your ex-husband,” Taehyung finishes for you, his tone gentle with understanding. His eyes soften as he looks at you.

“Yes…” you admit, your voice barely above a whisper. “It’s silly, but I haven’t done it in a long time. Even Jimin and I haven’t shared a bed in years.”

“I’m sorry…” Taehyung says, his voice filled with genuine regret.

“Tae, you don’t have to be sorry,” you say, shaking your head. “It’s my own issue. I’ll just sleep on the chair, alright? It’s only one night.”

“Not happening, you’ll take the bed with Tan.”

“Seriously,” you start to protest, but he’s already moving toward the foot of the bed with determination in his eyes. He grabs the blanket from the end and rushes over to the chair with haste. You run after him, pulling at his arm, and both of you end up laughing, the tension gradually breaking.

“It's been a very long day and I'm quite tired, __. How about turning off the lights, please?” He spreads out the blanket and settles into the chair with a satisfied sigh. Then, there’s a loud creak followed by a distinct cracking sound.

“Fuck—” Taehyung swears as the chair suddenly collapses under his weight. He rises from his seat, grimacing at the broken chair. “I knew it was old, but damn, I didn’t think it was that old.”

“Shit, please tell me this wasn't a family heirloom or something.”

“Uh… I don’t think so?” Taehyung scratches his head, looking sheepish. “I’ll let my mom know in the morning. It’ll be fine, okay? No worries. But, um, I’ll sleep on the floor instead.” Taehyung then grabs a couple pillows and a blanket and starts forming a makeshift bed on the floor. While you watch him, your heart softens despite your exhaustion.

“Alright, enough,” you sigh, exasperated. “If we keep this up, we’ll just be going in circles all night. Let’s just share the bed, Tae. It’s not worth you being uncomfortable.”

Taehyung looks up, concern written over his face. “Are you sure? I don’t want you feeling uncomfortable either. I’m happy to—”

“I’m sure,” you cut him off, doing your best not to overthink it. “You're the one who'll be driving for five hours tomorrow anyway, so let’s just get some decent rest. It's okay, really.”

After a good long pause, you both end up climbing into the bed, each taking your own side as Tan curls himself at the foot of the bed. Taehyung reaches over to turn off the light, but despite the calmness of the room, you find yourself unable to sleep right away. You’re unaware he feels similarly until he unexpectedly breaks the silence.

“Are you warm enough?” he asks quietly. “We have more blankets if you need them.”

You turn slightly toward him. “I’m okay for now, but thanks for checking.”

He gives a soft, reassuring smile. “Alright. Just let me know if you need anything. Sleep well.”

“Thanks, Tae.” You roll back onto your side and close your eyes. “You too.”

As the night deepens, the storm outside continues its relentless drumming against the windows. At some point, Taehyung jolts awake to a faint but unmistakable sound.

He blinks groggily at first, adjusting to the dim light filtering through the curtains. Then he notices your restless movements and hears you murmuring softly in your sleep, a note of distress in your voice.

"__?" he asks quietly, still half-asleep. "Are you okay?"

When you don’t respond, he shifts closer, concerned by the unease on your face. Seeing your share of the blankets has slipped off, he gently tugs them back over you, making sure they cover you comfortably.

Amid the movement, a muddled groan escapes your lips—something between a whimper and a sigh, "Mmm… no…"

It doesn't take a genius to figure out you must be having a nightmare of some sort. “It’s just a dream,” he whispers soothingly, brushing a stray hair from your face. “You’re safe here with me.”

He gently takes your slightly trembling hand and holds it gently in his. “I’m right here, __,” he sighs softly. “No matter what happens, I’ll always be here.”

Taehyung isn’t sure how much time passes before your restlessness stops, but he stays awake, hand clutching yours until it does. Eventually, assuming you’ve finally entered a more peaceful sleep, he releases your hand and rolls onto his side.

What he doesn't expect is for you to unconsciously follow him over, your body snuggling against his back. The warmth of your body against his is comforting, but he knows he can't let you stay there and risk any awkwardness in the morning. So with the utmost care, he rolls over to face you and gently adjusts your body until you're lying comfortably on your back again.

"I hope you'll be able to sleep better now," he whispers, his voice barely audible above the storm. "Goodnight."

Following the reunion, you and Taehyung part ways with mutual thank-yous and promises to see each other soon.

Time seems to vanish afterward as you find yourself increasingly buried under an endless pile of work projects. Apparently, over the weekend, a notable investor reached out to your company with hopes of setting up a meeting.

Namjoon is nearly tripping over his words when he relays the message to you.

"Can you believe it?" Your secretary stands within a foot from your desk, excitement evident in his voice. "They want to meet with us! This could be huge for our company."

You share his enthusiasm but your need to remain holistic in the matter tempers your ability to feel overly zealous. Meetings with investors always carry significant opportunities; however, there's no guarantee a deal will be struck. Truthfully, it depends on a number of factors, their level of interest outweighing them all.

Plus, every meeting requires extensive preparation—late nights where you tirelessly hunch over your computer, perfecting every detail of the pitch and this one promises to be no different.

"Did they happen to mention a time or date for further discussion?" you ask, matter-of-factly. Namjoon nods, pulling out his phone.

"Yes, they suggested next Wednesday at 10 AM.”

You weigh the proposal in your mind. “That should give us enough time to get everything in order, then,” you conclude. “Please put it in our calendar and let them know we’ll be ready to meet on that day.”

From then on, the remainder of your week unfolds exactly as you anticipate—relentless preparation, long nights, and meticulous planning until the small of your back aches for relief. One might say it's an exaggeration, but the only breaks you can afford are for primal necessities like eating, sleeping, and using the bathroom.

Even your weekend is spent within the walls of your home office, a far cry from previous weekends when you used to visit the book café or meet up with Taehyung.

Speaking of which, you haven’t really gotten to see each other since his family gathering and though it was only a week ago, the lack of his presence leaves you feeling a bit disheartened. He replied to your text yesterday, but even so, it was brief—something about a new project or talk show interview was keeping him busy as well.

By the time Wednesday arrives, your neck is so riddled with the stress of the upcoming investor meeting that you can barely focus on your proposal notes. Everything in you hopes that the investors will be impressed enough to partner with you, but thinking about it does nothing except heighten your nervousness.

In search of some kind of solace, your mind wanders to Taehyung instead. The memory of the small dance you shared with him on the beach is once again vivid, as if it happened just moments ago—the soft sand beneath your feet, the sound of the waves, and the way his gentle hands gripped around your waist.

But why does this memory, out of all the possibilities, feel so soothing?

You've been struggling to come to a plausible conclusion since the day it happened, yet deep down, you know it’s not as trivial as it seems. You miss it, your subconscious hums, you miss him.

Just then, Namjoon pokes his head into your office, signaling that the investors have arrived in the conference room. You send a curt nod in reply and gather your notes, refocusing your mind on the task at hand; everything else will have to wait.

Turns out, you might have been a bit too pessimistic about the investor meeting. They’re surprisingly pleased with your plans and proposals, nodding along to each of your points. However, their request for a day or two to reach a final decision catches you a tad off guard.

Rather than grapple with the uncertainty though, you decide to mentally prepare for whatever comes next... starting by decompressing at the bar downtown, a glass of their strongest alcohol in hand.

At first, finding a seat proves to be a challenge as you navigate through a sea of sweaty bodies. But luck, seemingly on your side, provides you with an empty chair at the far end of the bar. While you sit and order your drink, you can't help but wonder what Taehyung might be doing tonight. Should you text him to see if he’d join you, even if only for fifteen minutes?

Slipping your phone from the side pocket of your bag, you curse silently at your apparent haste. Your subconscious was right—you really have missed him, damn.

All at once, your thoughts are put to an abrupt stop when you take a quick glance around the bar, your gaze unprepared to land on two familiar silhouettes at the opposite end—Namjoon, with Taehyung next to him, drinks in hand. You don’t know how you failed to notice them before. They’re laughing, clearly enjoying each other’s company, and for a moment, your face lifts into a smile.

But that smile quickly fades when you catch sight of two women sauntering over to join them. Your initial joy is swiftly replaced by a sharp sting of jealousy and you chastise yourself for the feeling. Who are you to react this way? Taehyung can do whatever he wants—why should you care who he’s out with?

Forcing yourself to shake off the feeling, you take a sip of your drink, but your gaze keeps drifting back to the group. It’s obvious that the taller of the two women, arguably as stunning as Taehyung, is laser-focused on him, her hand brushing his arm lightly as she laughs at whatever joke he’s just told. Probably a dumb one, you think bitterly; it's obvious she's not just there for the humor and booze. It's strange to witness, as you've only known Taehyung to allow a few, select women to touch him so openly—his mother, his onscreen cast members, and you.

Okay __, stop, you scold yourself. This is a bad idea; you’re getting too involved for your own good. Hastily, you finish your drink and head out of the bar, the cool night air brushing against your skin. If Taehyung goes home with her, it’s none of your business.

You're barely a few feet outside the bar's door when you hear commotion echo from a nearby alley. Alarmed, you whip towards the noise, your eyes widening in disbelief. There, in the dim light, you see your ex-husband doubled over, clutching his stomach, while a shadowy figure stands in front of him, fist clenched.

You’re not sure where the courage comes from, but within seconds, you're springing to action, racing towards the scene with a surge of adrenaline. “Hey!” you shout as loudly as you can. The attacker glances back, frazzled, then bolts into the night, leaving Jungkook hunched against the alley wall.

“Oh my god, are you okay?” you ask frantically, rushing to his side and helping him to his feet. He flinches away from your touch initially, his face a mix of panic and agony. “It’s me, Jungkook. It's __. Can you hear me? It’s okay, I’m here,” you reassure him the best you can, hoping to ease him.

Jungkook takes a few shaky breaths, body still weak as he struggles to hold himself up against the wall. His eyes are glazed, and he seems disoriented. “I… I didn’t expect you,” he mutters, his voice strained.

Offering him an arm, you help him steady himself. “Let’s get you out of here, okay?” He nods weakly, and as you guide him towards the parking lot and into the light, you ask, "What happened back there? Do you need me to take you to the hospital?"

Jungkook sighs, wincing slightly. “No, it’s... I’m fine. He was just a kid—no more than 21. Angry, probably a little drunk, and accused me of being the reason his father got fired. At first, I was confused, but then I vaguely recognized him as being one of our employee’s sons. Pretty sure it was my dad who fired his—I was probably just an easier target."

You both fall into a contemplative silence as you continue walking. Of course Jungkook's father, the chairman of the company, would be behind this, you think. Previous times spent with him had shown you how ruthless he could be when it came to the "well-being" of his company. Whoever the kid was, he probably had a right to be angry, but physically taking it out on Jungkook wasn’t justifiable by any means.

“You sure you don’t need a doctor?” you ask, glancing at him with concern.

He shakes his head dismissively, "Don't worry about me," he replies. "A couple of punches to the gut won't kill me. I think it's about time I head home though."

You nod in agreement. “Where did you park?”

He points to a spot on the far left side of the parking lot, and you nearly groan at the sight. “Did you have to bring your bike tonight?” you ask, a hint of exasperation in your voice.

Jungkook gives a weak smile, understanding the inconvenience of the situation. “Thought I’d ride it in case I needed to get somewhere fast,” he replies, his voice strained but with a touch of humor.

"Come on," you say, walking him toward your car instead. "We might not be married anymore, but there’s no way in hell I'm letting you ride your bike home in this condition. You can pick it up tomorrow."

Jungkook chuckles weakly. “Damn, and to think we were about to ride it together for old times’ sake. You used to be pretty good with my motorcycle back when you were my girlfriend, __." You roll your eyes, patience thinning. If this is another one of his sexual advances, you’re long over it.

"Yeah, well, that was before Taehyung’s accident scared me half to death," you retort. "And for the record, I was never your girlfriend. We went from work partners straight to I do." You open the passenger door and help him into the seat, giving him a gentle shove. "Now sit tight and no more motorcycle talk."

Jungkook leans back and raises an eyebrow with a playful smirk. “Well, what are we gonna talk about then? It’s a twenty-minute drive to my place.”

You slide into the driver’s seat and start the engine, giving him the go-ahead to enter his address into your car’s GPS. “Are you really whining already?”

As Jungkook taps away on the GPS, you’re suddenly reminded of a series of past car trips you shared with him. It’s almost like déjà vu.

“Seriously, __,” he starts, allowing his playful demeanor to fade. “Thank you for doing this for me. I know we… well, we aren’t exactly on the best terms.”

From the corner of your eye, you observe the way he aimlessly stares out the window, unsure whether to meet your gaze.

"We may not be in the best place, but that doesn’t mean I’d just leave you there," you sigh, gripping the steering wheel tighter. A long pause follows afterward until the question that's been gnawing at you finally slips from your lips. "How's everything with the company?"

Seemingly unfazed, as if he’d been anticipating the question, Jungkook replies, “I’m guessing you’ve heard the rumors.”

“Hard not to,” you say, keeping your eyes on the road.

He takes a deep breath before continuing, "Well, it's um... it's a sabbatical. I know it's probably a shock, right? My father isn’t too thrilled about it, so he’s delayed the official announcement until we reach a final consensus. But things have been... complicated. Our newest product launched recently, and it’s doing well, but now I think I need some time for myself. To take a step back.”

Well, shit.

Even with all the rumors, you never would have guessed in a million years that the truth of the matter was an impending sabbatical. Jungkook has always been the type to work himself until his hands bleed, so this is the last reason you expected to hear.

“I’m glad to hear you’re finally letting yourself have a break, but honestly, it doesn’t sound like you at all. Feel free not to share, but what do you mean by ‘complicated’?” The way he frames it sounds almost ominous.

“You really want to know?” He finally glances at you for the first time since getting into the car, his eyes carrying a hint of vulnerability.

“Only if you want to share,” you reply cautiously.

He looks down at his hands, gathering his thoughts. “So, remember when we last saw each other a few months back? Well, I’ve been reflecting a lot on our relationship since then. I know I wasn’t fair to you, __, and I really wish I could take it all back. You never deserved any of it. I was incredibly selfish and I’m truly sorry.”

You remain silent, thrown off by how quickly everything circles back to your fragile past together. Still, you allow him to speak.

"Before we parted ways, you suggested I see a professional, and… I thought I'd finally take your advice for once. It’s strange because I’d never gone before, but…”

He pauses, searching for the right words. “I’m starting to understand a lot about myself—why I react the way I do and how I handle things. It’s been tough, but I’m trying. I guess I’m taking this sabbatical because I need to figure myself out, away from work, so I can be better and stop hurting people around me."

For the first time in a long time, as you listen to your ex-husband, you realize he's beginning to sound genuinely mature. If it's true that he's been seeing a therapist and taking a sabbatical to prioritize his well-being, then you're extremely proud of him.

Yet, a small part of you remains stubborn, wishing he had made these changes earlier—imagine where you might be now if he had.

“Thank you for being open enough to share this with me," you respond slowly, careful not to misspeak. "Though I’m still a little surprised, I have to say I’m really proud of you for seeking help. I’ve been seeing someone as well, and it took me some time to settle in too, but I suppose that’s part of the healing process—being uncomfortable to an extent. We’ve had our share of challenges with one another, but despite everything, I’ll always wish the best for you, Jungkook—including your health and mental well-being.”

As you pull into the driveway of his house, parking the car near the front door, Jungkook takes a deep breath and turns to you, visibly affected. "It means a lot that you'd say that, __," he starts hesitantly, hands fidgeting in his lap. "I know I've made a lot of mistakes, and I understand if you can't forgive me completely. But I want you to know that I am sorry. I wasn’t fair to you and I'm not proud of my behavior at all."

You nod in response, a small, tight-lipped smile forming. His remorse for the past is finally sincere, yet even now, as he looks at you with those hopeful eyes—the same ones you carried for months on end—you know he's searching for more than just your forgiveness.

But this time, you don’t think you can offer him more than that.

Because while you grew fond of him during your marriage, you've come to realize how unearned and misplaced that affection was. He broke your heart not once, but twice. And although you can never hate him, deep down, you can't ignore the lingering sting you feel when you're around him.

It's both sobering and eye-opening.

So, rather than reversing into old emotions, you simply say, "I believe you, Jungkook, and I think with time I'll be able to forgive you. If there’s ever a time when you’re in dire need of help, like tonight, I’ll do my best to be there. I’m afraid that’s as far as we can go, though."

It’s written all over his face that it’s not what he was hoping to hear, but respectfully, he doesn’t press further.

"I understand," he says, fingers reaching to for the passenger door handle. "Thank you again for being there for me tonight, and for driving me home. Please feel free to reach out if you ever need me as well. I hope for the best for you too, however and with whoever you choose."

The two of you exchange a brief look of gratitude before he finally pulls the door open and steps out of the car, making his way to his front door.

"Have a good night, and rest up," you call out to him. He smiles, gives a wave, and heads inside.

As you slowly back out of the driveway, you sigh, leaving only one person ruminating in your mind: Taehyung.

Then, inevitably, images of the stunning woman at the bar with him intrude your thoughts, stirring a deep, unsettling emotion within you.

Does it really matter that much who he's out with?

Are you really that jealous about it?

Mentally, you go back and forth as if plucking petals from a large sunflower… Yes. No. Yes. No. Until—Silence.

You can't seem to give a straight answer. It's like the closer you and Taehyung grow, the more undefinable and knotted your feelings become. Yet, the further apart you are, the more unnatural it feels...

Well, your indecisiveness doesn’t get any better by Friday because, finally, after what feels like an eternity, you and Taehyung have plans.

You’re heading out for dinner at a restaurant of his choosing tonight, as he insisted you go somewhere new. Where could it be? You have no clue, and while surprises aren’t usually your thing, his enthusiasm when you confirmed plans earlier has left you intrigued. There’s also this faint, inexplicably giddy feeling in your stomach that won’t go away, coinciding with a slight nervousness.

With such a seemingly important occasion, you find yourself in front of your bedroom mirror, twisting from side to side in what’s probably the fifth outfit you’ve tried on. But nothing seems to fit quite right. You’re feeling especially frustrated to be frank, as something that usually takes you twenty minutes is turning into a whole hour.

You end up tossing one final dress over your head—a bit more elegant for the occasion, but it’s one of the few items you own that accentuates your body down to the last detail. The dress hugs around your waist and falls just above your knees, its rich color perfectly complementing your skin tone. But isn’t it a little revealing? The neckline dips down further than you remember.

Crap—the alarm on your phone suddenly chimes, reminding you that Taehyung's arriving in ten minutes. You're running out of time.

"You’re being ridiculous. It’ll be fine,” you reassure yourself, smoothing down the skirt of the dress. “You're just friends. He won’t care.”

“Friends” stings more than you anticipated, leaving a bitter aftertaste and a deflated feeling in your chest.

Nevertheless, you give yourself one last look in the mirror, apply a quick swipe of lipstick, and head downstairs. Just as you finish slipping on your shoes and grabbing your purse from the coat rack, the doorbell rings, causing your heart to leap from your chest.

Deciding to rip it off like a band-aid, you toss open the door, and there he is—standing on your doorstep with his signature boxy grin and gently tousled raven hair. Taehyung's dressed in a tailored blazer and matching slacks over a crisp white t-shirt, and you find yourself at a complete loss for words as if you’ve forgotten what it’s like to be around him.

Maybe it’s something in the air, but he appears equally stunned, looking you up and down with wide eyes. His gaze soon softens into admiration as he takes in your entire appearance. “Wow,” he chokes, clearly impressed. “You look amazing.”

You feel a rush of warmth at his compliment and muster all your strength to keep from looking away flustered. “Thank you,” your voice wavers slightly. “You look pretty great yourself.”

Tongue in cheek, he replies with a playful smirk, “I was hoping you’d say that,” which prompts you to lightly punch him in the arm.

“Don't be arrogant.”

He chuckles, rubbing his arm with a grin. “Shall we head out?”

You nod and step outside, locking the door behind you.

The drive to the restaurant is a brief one, and you're immediately struck by the charm of its exterior when you arrive—stone walls, covered with vines of ivy and warm glowing lanterns. Inside is even more beautiful, with wooden shelves lined with old books and bottles of fine wine wrapping around the room. You're starting to understand why Taehyung was so insistent on bringing you here; the place perfectly reflects his taste and, unexpectedly, yours as well.

One of the hosts leads you to a deep mahogany table after confirming your reservation. The closer you get to it, the more you notice the crisp white linens and small tealight candles that sit on top, setting a romantic scene. If you had to describe the feeling, it would be as though you’ve been transported straight to a quaint corner of France.

"So, what do you think?” Seated across from you, Taehyung looks at you with bated breath. His fingers fidget with the edge of the table, nervously anticipating your verdict.

“Honestly? It’s so charming,” you reply, glancing around in awe. “I didn’t even realize we had a place like this around.”

At this, his demeanor relaxes, and a pleased smile spreads across his face. “It’s a bit hidden, but once I found it, it quickly became one of my favorite spots.” He pauses, then adds, “This is actually the same restaurant I wanted to take you to months ago, before my accident.”

“What? You’re serious?” you blink in shock as the realization slowly sinks in. You take another look around the restaurant—the rows of books, the bottles of wine, the elegant dining atmosphere—and suddenly, it all makes sense. How did you miss it before? “I’m sorry we didn’t come sooner,” you say softly, regretful of having turned down his offer before.

“It’s okay,” Taehyung's quick to reassure you, reaching out to lightly touch your hand. “What matters is that we’re here now. And honestly, I’m just happy to finally share it with you.” He gives you a warm smile, and immediately, you feel a small lump form in the back of your throat.

“Thank you for bringing us here tonight,” you say, “It’s wonderful, and I’m really glad we could make it up.”

“Of course,” he replies, “I thought it was a place we’d both enjoy.”

Everything about his responses seems to carry a heightened level of endearment and attentiveness, as if there’s more hidden beneath them.

Perhaps selfishly, you also sense there’s something uniquely special about this night—something you believe only exists between the two of you. So, when Taehyung retracts his hand, you feel a fleeting instinct to reach out and grasp it again, but you stop yourself short.

What are you thinking? This isn’t a date.

Needing a distraction, you grab the menu and start scanning the options.

Taehyung sees the way your gaze drifts and tilts his head, a concerned expression on his face. “Everything alright?” he asks gently.

You nod, forcing a smile. “Yeah,” you reply, trying to sound casual. “I'm just getting pretty hungry with all the food I smell.”

He chuckles, "Same here," then picks up a menu of his own.

The two of you sit in silence for the next few minutes, fixated on the food and wine list. You find yourself stealing glances at him from time to time, and unbeknownst to you, he does the same.

After the waiter takes your orders, Taehyung leans forward, resting his chin on his palm. “How’s everything at work been? I’ve been meaning to ask.”

Your face lights up at this. “Highs and lows," you reply, voice brightening, "but we got some exciting news today. I met with a potential investor earlier this week, and they’ve agreed to partner with the company. It’s a big win for us!”

Sharing your enthusiasm, Taehyung raises his wine glass, implicating you to follow suit. “This calls for a toast,” he says. “I know it must have meant long nights for you, but I’m so glad they recognized the value of you and your work. Seriously, __, you should be incredibly proud of this!"

You clink your glass with his, a light chuckle escaping you. There's something uniquely satisfying about sharing even the smallest things with him.

The conversation flows more comfortably from there, with Taehyung eagerly asking about the details of your new partnership. You reciprocate by asking about his current work projects, and soon, you both get lost in discussion, naturally causing your conversation to grow increasingly spontaneous. By the time your food arrives, the two of you must have easily covered fifty topics.

With the evening gradually becoming one of the most enjoyable you’ve had, the initial butterflies you felt at the start almost fade away... almost. That is, until you near the end of the meal and Taehyung looks at you with a seriousness in his eyes.

“I’m really glad we could do this tonight," he says, "We’ve both been so caught up with work lately that we haven’t had much time to spend together… I’ve missed it."

"Missed..." The simple six-letter word echoes in the back of your mind in a hushed murmur. It feels nice knowing you aren’t the only one affected by the recent distance.

“Me too,” you reply, more breathy than intended. Before you can fully process your words, you find yourself adding, “I’ve missed you a lot myself.”

A flush of embarrassment twists in your stomach the moment the words leave your mouth. You shouldn’t have said it like that—it almost sounded like… pining? God, you can’t even blame it on the alcohol at this point; you barely had one full glass of wine. Contrary to what you'd expect, Taehyung looks at you with a hint of shyness.

“You know,” he begins, briefly eyeing your dress, “you really do look great tonight. I’ve been a bit worried these past couple of weeks, seeing how much you work and how little sleep you get. But now… I'm relieved to see you looking so well.”

You blush. If only he saw you before tonight—greasy hair, bloodshot eyes, and oversized sweats on, you think. Evidently, tonight was an exception.

"I guess I've been worried about you too if I’m being honest,” you admit, shifting slightly in your seat. "The last time we saw each other was at your family reunion. It feels like it was ages ago for some odd reason."

“I know what you mean,” he says softly, gaze lingering on yours a moment longer than usual. “It’s strange going so long without seeing each other. It feels…unnatural.”

All at once, you pause, unsure if you heard right. Did Taehyung really say "unnatural"? It’s exactly how you’ve felt about the distance this entire time, but you hadn’t expected him to feel the same. Your mind struggles to process the sheer coincidence and its possible implications—was there something more to your relationship than you had realized?

While you try to make sense of it all, Taehyung’s raspy voice pulls you back to the present. “Well, uh, we should probably head out,” he suggests lightly, breaking the silence. You nod in agreement, though it does little to deter you from your thoughts.

You find yourself fidgeting with the hem of your dress the entire drive back, occasionally glancing at Taehyung in silence. His hands grip the steering wheel tightly, eyes focused on the road, yet you could’ve sworn his mouth parted at one point as if he was about to say something. But then, he held back. You wonder what he might’ve wanted to say, but you’re no better—hesitant to breathe a word yourself.

Why are neither of you speaking all of a sudden? It feels tense and unfamiliar.

In what feels like a blink of an eye, you're standing at your front door again, Taehyung close beside you. The space between you feels smaller this time, with unspoken words still lingering, but it’s clear that despite having your keys in hand, neither of you are ready to part ways just yet.

“__?” He speaks first, voice barely above a whisper.

“Yes?” You respond, turning to face him fully.

Taehyung takes a deep breath when you do, his usual warmth replaced by a heavy, unreadable expression. “There- there's something that’s been on my mind,” he begins, voice trembling slightly. “I've been going back and forth tonight on whether or not to tell you."

“Okay, what is it?” you ask, pulse quickening.

“It’s about us..." He hesitates, gnawing on his bottom lip slightly before continuing. "Earlier tonight, when I said I've missed being able to see you, I wasn’t lying. If anything, it was likely an understatement because, no matter how busy I was, I kept thinking about you—our time at my parents' place, and how you always came to visit me when I was in the hospital."

He pauses, his fist clenching nervously.

"I’ve realized since then that maybe the reason why is because somehow…you've always been more than a friend to me,” he confesses softly.

Searching your face for a reaction, Taehyung mistakes your blank expression for discomfort. Little does he know, however, that your stillness is merely due to shock, as every nerve in your body threatens to awaken. It feels surreal, you think. Sure, you had a small inkling that tonight felt different and Taehyung was sweeter than usual, but eighty percent of you chalked it up as nothing more than overthinking or projection.

Now, you realize how short-sighted you’ve been, convincing yourself that you could only ever be friends and denying the rest when it's been quite the opposite.

“I’m sorry," he adds sheepishly. "It must be a lot to take in. I don’t want to lose you or our friendship, but with my feelings growing, I think I’ll always want more. I thought it would be better for you to know.”

You see the sincerity in his eyes as he speaks, and though he patiently waits for your response, you’re unsure where to start. It’s not that you question Taehyung’s genuineness or intentions, or that you don’t reciprocate his feelings—you haven’t shared such a deep connection with someone in a long time, if ever.

Rather, it’s the years of a mostly apathetic marriage that leave you feeling wary.

What would a relationship with Taehyung be like?

Would you truly love each other?

For how long?

What startles you most is the possibility that if you and Taehyung really do this and it doesn’t work out, you’ll be left even more devastated than before.

When you finally speak, your voice wavers slightly. “To tell you the truth, a big part of me is relieved that you told me all of this,” you admit slowly, your hands clammy. “I thought I sensed a shift between us at your parents' and again this evening. But I also thought I was reading too much into things, convinced it was just us getting closer as friends do."

"I guess what I’m trying to say is that I was wrong because I've been wanting more with you too," you continue. "It's like the further away we are, the worse I seem to feel, and I can't help but wonder what it would look like if we were more than friends. The thought scares me as much as it excites me, though…for reasons I'm sure you already know."

You're uneasy about how he'll react until, all at once, his eyes fill with warmth and his hands gently reach for yours, thumbs rubbing soothing circles on the backs.

“Do you remember when we were at the beach and you asked who’d risk it for you?” Taehyung asks. You nod, recalling the exact moment. “You also asked if I loved you, and I agreed to both that day. I didn’t realize how much those words would come full circle, but I meant it then, and I mean it now. I will love you, __, in the way you've always meant to be. I'm pretty sure I'm at least halfway in love with you already, and not just because we're friends."

Wordless, you stand facing each other, your hands still held in his, eyes steady in the brisk night air. His gaze then drifts from your eyes to your lips and back again. The movement is subtle, but in that brief moment, you let your eyes fall to his lips as well.

Taehyung’s waiting for your answer, but you can’t stop thinking of what would happen if you just…

Adrenaline takes over from there, and before you fully process it, you’re leaning in to close the distance between you, pressing your lips to his. The sudden touch catches Taehyung off guard, but he quickly responds with gentle, tender kisses. A soft smile tugs at his lips as he deepens the embrace, one hand finding its way to your face while the other rests on your back, pulling you closer.

Sooner than you realize, he begins deepening the kiss as well, eliciting small, breathy moans. At this point, you can feel the tent forming in his trousers, but he makes no move to grind into you yet. Rather, the hands that grip around you tighten, not enough to hurt, but enough that your body pushes further against his firmer chest. You suspect your back will meet the hard surface of your front door within the next three seconds, allowing your entire neighborhood a show, but before then, you're interrupted by a subtle stirring in the pit of your stomach.

"Wait, I'm sorry-" you suddenly break the kiss, a rush of nerves returning. It’s been a long time since you’ve shared such meaningful kisses with someone, and the intensity of it has you feeling overwhelmed. "I'm so sorry," you repeat.

When Taehyung sees you aren’t backing away but rather standing completely still, he settles his hands around your waist, gently drawing you further into a soft embrace. "You don't need to apologize," he assures. "I'm the one who took it further than I should've when I want this to be comfortable for both of us.”

You take a small breath, "You didn't do anything wrong, Tae, I'm just a little nervous due the newness of everything. I think I’d be best if we wait before going any further tonight….but I’m also not ready for you to leave yet. Is there any way you could maybe come in for a bit? To lounge?”

Taehyung nods, “I completely understand wanting to wait. The last thing I want to do is rush anything.” Concerned about possibly pressuring you, he adds, "Are you sure about me coming in though? It's getting late and I don't want to keep you up."

"Please," you murmur, "just for a little while, if you can.”

“Okay," he agrees, thumbs brushing lightly against your sides, "I can stay."

a/n: ajdfhg, TYSM for reading!! Love you all 🥰

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

[rockpapertheodore]

I cannot tell you how frustrated I am with the anti-math movement because despite what anyone thinks in high-school, you use math constantly every day in ways the very, like, sexless? way school teaches math will never prepare you for.

If you want to run a business? Inventory costs, storage and logistics, labour and wages, bills.

You have any customer service job? You are making change. You are making SO much change. All the time. Sometimes the computer works and you're safe, but sometimes your entire point of sale is beholden to the whims of a third party system with a web server of your entire inventory on the other side of the state and it's gone down. Again. So u gotta do all the math on paper because you're still open because it's an inconvenience, not a reason to stop business.

Baking.

Building something? Gotta do some dang ol' physics and engineering if u wanna do it efficiently and with minimal expenses.

Sports people are doing so much subconscious math all the time, without ever knowing it, and being aware of all the ways geometry (if ur playing a stick-and-ball game like baseball or cricket or pool) or physics (literally every sport)

I'm not gonna lie, I'm not sure where I was going with this beyond "im so annoyed with the incompetent presentation of math in US public schools." Please understand I'm not trying to shame anyone, and I am not judging anyone for struggling with math. Math is an arcane wizard language invented to quantify and understand the functions of the world around us. The human brain is a pleasure-seeking monkey with astronomical pattern-recognition abilities, and some beautiful autist in the past went "hey actually what if I could measure everything?" And math started.

I'm not even particularly good at any discipline beyond general mathematics because I've been making change for customers since I was 6.

Also its really fun making ur bosses sweat when you piece together the profit margins on accident because you 'tism for a second and guesstimate the cost of buying in the product and margin of profit based upon sale price and volume of sales.

Anyway learn and understand just enough to survive, and then just enough more to make your employers sweat when you can explain to your coworkers approximately how much the store is making.

Shoutout to my discalculic homies, I don't know how to make math that doesn't suck yet, but I'll do my damndest to help u out when they create a sequel to numbers that makes sense.

[sara-scribbles]

The Littlest Dragon (Part 2)

Fandom: Twisted Wonderland Malleus Draconia/GN!Reader Summary: Your quiet life as a herbalist is disrupted when you take in an injured dragon Word Count: 7,251 Notes: I might write a part 3 as an epilogue. Hope you enjoy! Warnings: None

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

With no word from Riddle, you go about your life as usual. Unfortunately, Tsunotarou is unable to accompany you on your trips into town due to his sudden growth. Though he gives you sad puppy dog eyes, you firmly tell him to stay home. He’s also a lot heavier so trying to carry him would be too difficult. Though you feel bad, you heed Riddle’s warning of keeping him out of sight.

It is a bit lonely without having his constant presence while you shop, but you quickly get used to it once more. Browsing the shelves at Sam’s, you grab a new mortar and pestle. Turning down another aisle, you nearly collide with another person.

“I’m so sorry!” you apologize quickly.

“Maître herboriste!” You recognize the voice immediately before even seeing his face. 

Rook Hunt in all his feather hat glory, smiles widely at you. “Hello, Rook,” you greet. A bit eccentric, you know him through Vil.

He points to your loaded basket. “Shopping for supplies?”

“I’ve worn out my mortar and pestle, so I thought I’d get a new one,” you explain. You note his basket is filled with top of the line beauty products.

“Always so busy, Maître herboriste! I hear you have a little assistant, no?” The glimmer in his eyes tells you all you need to know.

Sighing, you nod. “Yes, I do have an assistant. No, you cannot hunt him.”

He gasps dramatically, hand flying over his heart. “I would never ask something like that! I just wish to…observe him a little closer than from the trees.”

“Trees?” Pinching the bridge of your nose, you inhale sharply before exhaling. “Have you been spying?”

“Non! Not spying, just observing.” His bright smile does nothing to make you feel better.

Now you’re starting to realize why Tsunotarou spent a lot of time glaring out the window as of late. He most likely sensed Rook and saw him as an unknown threat. And here you thought he’d liked watching the hens.

Heaving another weary sigh, you shake your head. “I don’t think coming would be a good idea. At least not alone. If Vil needs to drop by, you’re welcome to join.” Saying ‘no’ to Rook is useless. He’d just continue his spying or try something even more extreme if he really felt like it.

“Oh, so thoughtful of you! You truly are so très gentil!” He beams brightly.

After a few more compliments and praises, you manage to buy what you need and leave the shop. Rook can be a bit exhausting at times, but he means well. You just hope Tsunotarou doesn’t decide to roast him the moment he walks through the door.

---

You wake up suddenly from an odd dream. Yet, the moment you try to remember, it disappears. The feeling of the dream remains. Rolling over on your side, you reach for Tsunotarou but are met with nothing. Sitting up, you glance at the open window. Though you leave it open for him in case he ever wants to go out, you do sometimes worry. Sure he’s a dragon and can probably fend for himself, but you still remember how he looked when you first found him.

Getting out of bed, you head downstairs. Taking a quick peek out the window, you don’t see anything out of the ordinary. The full moon hangs low in the sky, illuminating the quiet night. Heading out the garden, you inhale the scent of moist grass and crisp air. It’s warm with a slight breeze, a nice night stare at the stars.

Sitting down on the bench swing in the back of the garden, you have a view of the cottage and the rows of plants growing. You idly swing your legs back and forth causing the bench to gently sway. The soft chirping of crickets and buzzing of insects fills the air. Fireflies lazily float by, giving the night an ethereal glow.

So distracted by the sight, you miss the approach of someone until they’re nearly standing a few feet away. Stiffening, you halt the lazy movements of the swing. Looking at the uninvited guest, you realize he’s the naked stranger from last time. Thankfully not naked this time.

He’s wrapped in a long black cloak that matches the inky color of his hair. Sharp, almost glowing peridot eyes gaze down at you. Your gaze lingers on the pointed ears and horns atop his head. His pale skin glows under the moon, almost making him seem ghostly.

“H-hello?” you greet, hesitantly. Unsure what else to say, you at least want to break the staring contest.

He smiles, flashing sharp incisors. “Hello, child of man. What brings you out?” His voice is smooth and low, like a warm whisper.

“Just couldn’t sleep,” you answer truthfully. “What are you doing here?” What you really want to ask is why he’s in your garden. It isn’t because you’re afraid, no he doesn’t give that sort of aurora. You’re genuinely curious why he’s here again. And since he’s not naked, your freak-out meter is low.

He gestures to the garden. “It’s very peaceful here at night. I thought I’d take a walk.” Pointing to the bench, he asks, “May I sit?”

You could say no. You really should say no. He’s a complete stranger, who you first saw in the nude. However, you nod and scoot over. The bench swing dips at the added weight. He quietly tips his head back to stare at the stars.

Leaning back, you observe the night sky. It’s been awhile since you’ve been able to just enjoy nature. Potions and salves keep you busy enough. By the time night comes, you’re dead on your feet. Though with the extra help, you aren’t so tired anymore. Having Tsunotarou around has made your life easier. And less lonely. 

You didn’t realize how lonely you actually felt until he showed up. Sure Ace and Deuce visited sometimes, but it wasn’t often. You did correspond with some other people through letters, but it didn’t make up for the lack of physical contact. Though he can’t respond in words to what you say, he understands. He does his best to let you know he’s listening. 

“You seem to be deep in thought, child of man,” the stranger interrupts.

Realizing he’s now staring at you intently, you sit up straighter. “Just thinking about stuff…”

“What sort of ‘stuff’ may I ask?” His tone is gentle and curious. 

Looking away, you wonder if you’re really going to tell a stranger your worries. However, you don’t take much time to spill. “I recently made friends with…someone. And I realize now that as much as I enjoy my solitude, I was lonely. It’s funny how spending time with someone can change your views so quickly.”

He nods sagely. “Sometimes it only takes a little change to open our eyes.” Glancing at him, he seems to be lost in his own thoughts.

You continue, “I’ve gotten so comfortable with his presence that I’m afraid of what will happen when he leaves. Everyone has to leave at some point. And someone like him probably needs a change in scenery.”

“And have you asked this person if he wants to leave?” he asks, gaze once more focused on you.

You chuckle, scratching the back of your neck. “That would be easier than needless worry, wouldn’t it?”

“He did say humans can be very convoluted about their desires,” he muses.

An eyebrow goes up. “Oh?” Not sure who he’s referring to, you’re somewhat offended. But there’s truth in his words.

He nods but flashes what you assume is supposed to be a reassuring smile. “But I can say you are not like that.”

“How do you know that? We’ve just met! For all you know I could be the worst human you’ll ever meet,” you half tease. 

He shakes his head. “No, you’re nothing like that.”

It’s almost as if he knows you. But that’s impossible! You’ve never spoken to him until now. The only time you’ve seen him was a month ago when he was standing naked in front of your chicken coop. You’d remember seeing someone as beautiful as him. Unless he’s someone like Rook, who likes to spy from afar. That sends an unpleasant shiver down your spine.

“How are you so sure?” you ask, curious to see what answer he’ll give.

His bright eyes sparkle. “I just have a good feeling.”

Since he’s not elaborating further, you can only nod. “So, this might sound rude, but you’re not human, right?”

Chuckling, he shakes his head. “That’s correct. I’m a fae. You may call me whatever you wish.”

You know very little about fae, though you vaguely recall a lesson on them. A species that had many different types, they’re well connected to magic, though some more than others. With their long life span, it wouldn’t be much of a surprise if the fae next to you is hundreds of years old. And one more thing you remember is that fae don’t lie. They might twist the truth to fit their needs, but it’s never a lie.

“I’m not the best at giving nicknames, so I’ve been told,” you warn. Eyeing him, you try to wrack your brain for something. However, nothing comes to mind until your gaze settles on his horns. “Hornton!”

There’s a pause as he blinks twice. Then, he bursts out into laughter, throwing his head back. “You never cease to surprise me,” he says once he manages to gain his composure.

Shaking your head, you point out, “I did warn you.” But since he doesn’t seem offended by the name you’ve chosen, perhaps your nicknames aren’t so bad.

“It’s a wonderful name,” he reassures. 

There’s a pause before you blurt out, “Why were you naked last time?” You immediately bite  the inside of your mouth. It’s something that’s been bugging you for a while now. 

“Certain circumstances made it so that I had no clothes at that moment,” he answers, not at all bothered.

“So where’d you get your clothes?” Did he steal them from someone’s laundry? Not that you’re too concerned with that. You do prefer him covered as you’re pretty sure seeing him naked again wouldn’t be good for your health.

“This was made by magic. Unfortunately my magic is being limited right now, or I would have created something more elaborate. And this won’t last for very long.” He plucks at the black fabric, brows creasing.

So he’ll be naked. Again. Covering your face with both hands, you mutter, “So you’re suddenly going to lose your magically made clothes?”

“Something like that.” His tone is nonchalant as if the idea of being naked in front of a stranger isn’t concerning.

This really sounds like a Cinderella moment except it’s way past midnight. A deep sigh escapes your lips. Perhaps fae aren’t as concerned with nudity as humans. Or perhaps it’s just this particular fae.

“Is something the matter?”

You quickly shake your head. “No. All good!” Deciding to take your mind off the topic, you switch gears. “So where’s home?”

“Briar Valley. It’s a small place west of the Queendom of Roses.” You’ve heard of Briar Valley. Though you haven’t traveled since your school days, you have a vague idea of where he’s from.

“It’s noted for its black forest, right?” Something you recall reading about places to visit. You’re not sure if you would want to visit the forest considering it’s said no one comes out.

He nods. “Yes, though I’d suggest against visiting. Humans tend to get lost in the forest unless guided by a fae who knows the area. Even then, some fae can get lost too.”

“Definitely not on my bucket list,” you mumble.

“You should come visit Briar Valley. It’s quite charming. I’d love to show you around.” He grins, eyes glimmering.

Ace and Deuce would probably berate you for this, but they’re not here. “Sure! Traveling isn’t something I’ve thought about, but I wouldn’t mind going away once and awhile. A friend from school, Kalim, has been asking me to visit him in the Scalding Sands. But I always put it off because of work.”

“I’ve only been to the Scalding Sands when I was a child,” he muses. His brows draw together as if trying to recall something. He shakes his head. “I wonder how much has changed since then…”

“We can go together someday.” You can almost hear the duo shouting at you. Maybe you shouldn’t be making deals with a fae. But you’ve always been a bit reckless. You haven’t done anything dumb in a long time.

He smiles. “Wonderful! I can’t wait.”

---

You wake up feeling tired and groggy. Maybe staying up to chat until the sky started turning light wasn’t the best idea. However, it was nice to speak with someone. Your new friend had bid you goodnight once the first rays of light started peeking through the horizon. He promised to visit the next full moon, which you found odd, but chalked it up to fae stuff.

Yawning for the nth time, Tsunotarou chirps worryingly. “I’m okay. Just didn’t get much sleep last night.” You pat his head. “We don’t have much to do today, thankfully. Think I’ll take a nap later.”

However, just as the words leave your mouth, there’s a sharp knock at your door. “Bonjour, Maître herboriste! Vil and I wanted to pay you a visit.” You sigh as you recognize Rook right away. He doesn’t even need to complete the sentence and you know it’s him.

Tsunotarou bristles. “It’s okay,” you reassure. “They’re friends. No need to set anyone on fire. I know Rook has been spying, but he doesn’t mean any harm.” You hold your hands out in a stop motion. He settles down a little, but his eyes remain narrowed.

Opening the door, you give the two what you hope is a pleasant smile. “Hello, you two. I didn’t think you’d be coming around today.”

Vil sighs. “I’ve been working with Riddle, but I decided I needed to see the dragon for myself. And you know why Rook is here.”

Said huntsman gives you a cheery wave. “Oh! Is that the magnificent creature?!” Spotting Tsunotarou from over your shoulder, you step aside to let the two in.

Rook makes a beeline for him. “Simply magnifique! He’s gotten even bigger than last time!” While Rook is busy studying Tsunotarou from all angles, Vil examines him from afar. 

“He is a sight,” the guild master murmurs. “From Riddle’s description, the measurements are off. Though he did mention that the creature seems to be growing in size. How much has he grown since the last time?”

Scratching your head, you shrug. “Not sure. I don’t keep track, but he does seem a little larger than yesterday.” Maybe ‘a little’ is an understatement. His head reaches your shoulder when he’s sitting on the floor. You woke up to him taking up half the bed.

“I do sense the magic. It’s as potent as Riddle said. This won’t be easy and we might not be able to do anything,” Vil tells you. His attention is momentarily taken away as he leans in closer to your face.

You inch back under his scrutinizing gaze. “Vil?”

“You have bags under your eyes. What have I told you about getting proper sleep, spudling? Sleep is vital not just so we look refreshed but so we feel refreshed.” He shakes his head. “Tsk, it seems all my lessons on good health have been for naught.”

“I’m sleeping fine, Vil. I just couldn’t sleep last night, that’s all. I promise it’s not a common occurrence.” Eyes darting over to Rook and Tsunotarou, you attempt to turn the conversation away from you. “Anyways, will Riddle be coming over too?”

“This conversation isn’t over,” he warns. “Not today. He has some things with his guild he needs to take care of. I just wanted to come here and take a look at what we’re dealing with. There’s no potion in this world that’ll be able to break a curse of this magnitude.”

Tsunotarou, completely ignoring Rook now, is focused on Vil. The two stare at each other much like the staring contest Riddle had. Vil chuckles. “He’s a smart one. Already assessing if I’m a threat, it seems.”

“Of course! Such a powerful creature recognizes a powerful mage!” Rook pipes in between taking pictures.

“We should head back to the guild. I need to do more research now that I know what we’re dealing with.” He pauses and turns to you, “Can I speak to you outside?”

“I’ll be right back,” you call to Tsunotarou before leading the two outside. Coming to the front gate, Vil stops before glancing back at your cottage. “What’s up?”

In a low tone, he says, “You probably don’t realize this, but that creature in there is dangerous.”

“Aren’t all dragons da-”

He cuts you off. “That’s not what I meant. I’ve seen a few dragons before but none as powerful as this one. The magic radiates off him in waves. I’m not sure if Riddle didn’t notice because of the curse or if something has changed since last time. I’d be careful with him. Dragons are temperamental creatures by nature.”

“Tsunotarou wouldn’t hurt me. At least not intentionally,” you argue. “He’s different and I trust him.”

“Tsk. Still reckless as ever. Just keep what I said in mind.” You can see the concern in his eyes. 

“I’ll be careful,” you promise.

---

“What are these?” Horton asks.

You had handed him a bundle the moment he appeared. “Clothes. I had to guess your size, but I think they’ll fit.”

He seems surprised. “For me?”

“I thought real clothes might be better than magically made clothes that only last for a while,” you explain. 

You had asked Jack for advice on what to get considering you didn’t know his size. He looked to be a little bigger than Jack, so you hoped the bundle the beastman got together would fit. Jack had mumbled something about underwear while looking away, so you can only assume there’s undergarments in the package.

“Thank you, child of man. This is a wonderful gift.” He looks all too pleased to receive a plain white shirt and black pants.

The way he’s looking at you is like you gave him the greatest gift in the world. “They didn’t cost me much, so it’s nothing big.”

“May I put them on?”

“Sure.” The moment those words are out of your mouth, he snaps his fingers and the outfit he was wearing disappears in a flash of green. “A little warning!” you shout, covering your eyes.

There’s a chuckle and you can only imagine the amused look on his dumb face. The rustle of fabric is all you hear. After a few moments, he says, “I am dressed.”

Pulling your hands away, you’re quite pleased to see that the clothes mostly fit. The pants are a little short, coming a little above his ankle. “You look great!”

He holds up a thin white string. “Is this meant to go somewhere?”

Laughing, you take the tie from him. “Come sit.” While he sits down, you hover over him. “It’s mostly for decoration, but you just weave it through the holes up here to make a crisscross pattern.”

Leaning down, you carefully pull the string through the loops of his shirt. After fiddling for a bit to make sure it’s even, you glance up. “Perfect!”

Your eyes meet and you suddenly realize how close to his face you are. “Thank you.”

He’s probably the most beautiful person you’ve ever seen. Sorry Vil. With long, thick eyelashes that brush against his pale skin, you wonder absently if all fae are as beautiful. Up close, you can even see the specks of darker green in his eyes.

“So pretty,” you whisper.

His eyes widen and there’s a sharp intake of breath. Realizing you just said that aloud, you pull back with a jerk. You suddenly find interest in something far away. “A-anyways, I hope the clothes are comfortable. Cotton is good for this weather even at night. I guess I should’ve gotten you shoes too,” you ramble.

“You’ve already given me so much. Thank you again, child of man.” The way he thanks you is almost reverent. “I wish to return the favor. Is there anything you want?”

Quickly shaking your head, you can’t imagine taking anything from him for something so simple. “No, I don’t need anything.”

He frowns. “Are you sure? Aren’t you supposed to return the favor when receiving a gift?”

“Not all gifts require something in return. This is something I wanted to do, so don’t worry about giving me anything.” His brows are still drawn together.

Tilting his head to the side, he studies you. “You’re very strange for a human. Many would jump at the chance to receive a favor from a fae.”

The pressure of his gaze makes you nervous. Looking away, you stare at the grass. “Like you said, I’m a strange human.”

His chuckle sends a shiver down your spine. “Yes, very strange. But that’s what makes you so charming.”

You ignore the fluttering of your heart.

---

Waking up to being half smothered to death by a dragon has become the norm. Tsunotarou has grown so big, your full sized bed is starting to feel too small. At this rate you might need an upgrade. You don’t mind that he’s grown, it’s just waking up because you can’t breathe isn’t the most pleasant.

“I’m pretty sure you're almost as tall as Riddle with his shoes on…” You eye him as he sits patiently on the stool while you stir the cauldron.

Tsunotarou makes a noise in the back of his throat. “I’m not complaining about your sudden growth spurt. Just that we might have an issue with sleeping if you keep getting bigger.” 

You toss in a few dried rosebuds. Stirring clockwise three times, you pour in a handful of pink sand. Tsunotarou drops a jar of fresh newt tails in your outstretched hand. You throw in a handful of those before stirring counterclockwise four times. The concoction bubbles and steams before changing colors.

“Hmm… That should be enough for six bottles.” While you pour the potion into bottles, he corks them before putting them on the table in a neat row.

You’re almost done when you hear loud, angry clucking. Then an even louder voice. “GET OFF YOU FOUL BIRDS!”

Glancing at your dragon companion, he doesn’t seem concerned about the sudden commotion. “Alright, guess we get another guest.” You can’t pinpoint the voice as anyone you know.

Taking a look out your window, you can see the three hens surrounding a very angry looking person. He waves his arms around trying to scare them off, but the three ladies just continue to peck at his boots.

There’s another person standing next to him, but he doesn’t do anything. The more you look, the more you think the silver haired one is sleeping. If he is sleeping, it’s quite a feat to do while on his feet and next to someone shouting.

Deciding to try and save your hens, you step outside. You let out an ear piercing whistle, which causes the green haired to stop his shouting. The one sleeping blinks awake as well. The three hens leave the stranger alone to go back into the coop. Though you note that Merryweather gives his boot one last peck for good measure.

“Can I help you two?” you ask once the hens are gone.

The loud one straightens his outfit before clearing his throat. “WHAT KIND OF HUMAN ALLOWS PEOPLE TO BE ATTACKED BY SUCH VICIOUS BIRDS?!”

You resist the urge to plug your ears. “They tend to not like strangers wandering near their coop. Also, no need to shout.”

He seems to stand up straighter and open his mouth, but the other one quickly intervenes. “We apologize for trespassing. My name is Silver and this is Sebek.”

“DON’T GO GIVING MY NAME TO THE HUMAN, SILVER!” Sebek admonishes.

After a beat, you ask once more, “Can I help you?”

“We’re looking for someone. A signal was sent from somewhere in the area,” Silver explains.

“I’m not in town as often, so I might not be the best person to ask. I’d suggest trying the guilds in town.” You gesture in the general direction of the main road.

Giving you a brief bow, Silver nods. “Thank you.” He turns to his companion. “We should head to town then.”

“Hold on! We might as well ask if the human has seen him. It’s hard not to notice such a magnificent person,” Sebek says, pointing at the human in question. His eyes zero in on you. “Human, have you seen the great Malleus Draconia?”

Your face twisted into something akin to confusion. “Who?”

The green haired one lets out a gasp. He looks equally offended and shocked. “YOU DON’T KNOW WHO THE GREAT MALLEUS DRACONIA IS!?!”

You proceed to plug your ears. Forget about being polite! “Can you stop yelling? And yes, I have no idea who you’re referring to. Like I said, check with the guilds.”

“How can someone not know the glorious young master???” He mutters to himself, not hearing a single word you said.

Giving you an apologetic look, Silver tugs his companion. “Thank you.”

Once they disappear down the road, you go inside. Tsunotarou, who had been peeking through the window, turns to you. He makes a series of grumbles. “I have no idea what that was about.” Shrugging, you go back to your potions.

After packaging everything, you plop down on the sofa with a deep sigh. “I’m already tired and it isn’t even that late.” Huffing, you close your eyes. The sofa dips and extra weight is dropped on your lap. 

Tsunotarou rests his head in your lap while chirping at you. Opening your eyes, you chuckle. “Hey, you.” You affectionately rub his head. Adjusting your position so you’re laying across the sofa, Tsunotarou nestles half on top of you. His tail hangs off the couch and onto the floor.

“Ooof! You’re getting a little too big for this.” With his head resting on your chest, he peers up at you. “Don’t look at me like that! I’m just stating a fact. You’ve grown a lot.”

Scratching him around his horns, you can’t help but study them. They remind you of something, but your brain is too tired to figure it out. “Ever since you’ve come into my life, it seems my days aren’t so monotonous. Don’t get me wrong, I enjoy the quiet and routine. But I’ve come to realize I cherish having you around.”

He gurgles happily. “But you’ll have to leave someday, right? You can’t stay here forever and if you continue to grow, I don’t think the cottage will be enough.” Chuckling to yourself, you’re reminded of the conversation you had with Hornton.

Tsunotarou nudges your cheek with his snout. “Do you want to leave?” you ask. He shakes his head while making a few noises. “I don’t want you to leave either. But I don’t think we’ll have much of a choice. We’ll deal with it when the time comes.”

The two of you doze lightly, but a sudden knock on the door sends you tumbling off the couch. Tsunotarou somehow managed to catch himself as he peers down at you. “Who’s visiting at this hour?!” Grunting, you get up and march to the door.

You’re greeted by the two from before. The shorter of the two opens his mouth to speak but is quickly interrupted by his companion with the loud mouth. “HOW DARE YOU LIE TO US, HUMAN!”

“W-what?!” Confused, you look between the two. “Can someone explain what I supposedly lied about. Without yelling.”

“Excuse me!” Riddle shoves his way from the back. You hadn’t even noticed there were more people. Ace and Deuce pop up as well giving you nervous looks.

Riddle holds his hand up to prevent the green one from shouting. “Sorry about that. They came saying they were looking for someone. After they explained what happened, I figured out who it was they’re looking for. And rule 233 states I should escort guests to their desired location.”

“Okay, but that doesn’t explain the accusation.” You’re too tired to be nice.

Shaking his head, Riddle sighs. “They’re looking for him.” He points over your shoulder. All eyes turn to the dragon sitting on the couch.

“Young master!”

“Your highness!”

Sebek pushes his way past you to get inside. Grumbling a few not so nice words under your breath, you allow the rest to come in as well. Sebek falls to his knees in front of the dragon while wailing something incomprehensible.

Silver turns to you. “I apologize for the accusation. Sebek can be a little…excitable when it comes to his highness.”

“Highness? Wait, so Tsunotarou is a prince?!” Angry green eyes turn to you.

“HOW DARE YOU REFER TO HIM WITH SUCH A VULGAR NAME!” Even Riddle looks put out. Seeming to realize his volume, he tones down just a little. “Not only did you kidnap him, but you subjected him to a ridiculous name?!”

Ace and Deuce move to stand in front of you when Sebek advances. “It’s okay guys. I’m not afraid of him.” The two give worried looks as you step forward. “Listen here. I did not kidnap him. I found him unconscious and injured in the woods. I took care of him and he’s been staying with me of his own free will. Tsunotarou is free to leave whenever he wants.”

He opens his mouth to say something, but you stop him with a sharp look. “I don’t appreciate people barging into my house making accusations! So, sit down and use your inside voice or I will kick you out on your ass!”

Ace lets out a low whistle as Sebek stands there slack jawed. “Are we done now?” Riddle asks, having taken a seat during your little speech.

There’s a moment of silence before Silver gives a small cough. “Again, I apologize for everything. We’ve been looking all over for his highness for a while.”

“It’s fine. Let’s sit down and have a civil discussion.” You take a seat on the couch. Tsunoartou sticks to your side despite the forlorn look Sebek gives him.

Once everyone is sitting, you gesture to the two. “So, who are you?”

“As we said before, I am Silver and this is Sebek. We are personal guards for his royal highness, prince Malleus Draconia,” he explains.

Looking at the dragon leaning against your side, you eye him curiously. “So you’re actually a prince?” He gives a nod. “You do know I was joking about the whole cursed prince thing, right?”

He grumbles deep in his throat, seeming not too pleased about something. “Your prince is a small dragon?” Deuce asks, scratching his cheek as he tries to wrap his head around it all.

“Of course not!” Sebek glares at him. “The young master’s true form is much more elegant and refined. Even his real dragon form is better than this! Not that you humans would understand the beauty of fae.”

“So how did he end up like that?” Ace pipes in.

Pressing his fingers to his temple, Silver sighs deeply. “It was punishment from his grandmother for not doing his duty. We didn’t think he would get carried off by a demon crow when we weren’t looking.”

“What kind of person is your grandmother to curse her own grandson? Scary…” It sends a shiver down your spine. His grandmother must be very powerful since both Vil and Riddle said the curse was created with old magic. 

“The curse thing has happened before,” Silver explains, not sounding concerned at all. “Getting lost is new.”

“He’s been living with me for almost a year, and you just decided to search for him?” If he’s a prince, shouldn’t they have been looking for him sooner?

Silver sighs. “The queen assured us that he was fine and ordered us not to search for him. However, a few weeks ago, she told us to find him. I’m not sure why she changed her mind…”

“I assume the one who put the curse on him can take it off? We’ve been studying ways to lift the curse, but haven’t had any luck.” Riddle’s cheeks are puffed out, most likely annoyed that he couldn’t find a way to break the curse himself.

Silver nods. “Yes. We will take him back home so the queen can lift the curse. Though looking at his form, it seems his own magic was working on breaking the curse from within. I’m sure fath-Lilia will be interested to hear this…”

The two stand up. “We need to head back home, immediately!” Sebek announces.

“Right now? But it’s night time. It could be dangerous,” you point out.

“We’ll be fine. We have a charm that will take us directly to the castle,” Silver explains.

“Of course you do.” You can’t delay the inevitable. “Can I have a moment alone with him? Please?”

“Of course. We will wait outside.” Despite Sebek’s protests, the two head out.

Riddle, Ace and Deuce also stand to leave. “I’ll head back to town to let Vil know what happened.”

“We'll be outside if you need us,” Deuce informs you.

Once everyone leaves, it’s just you and Tsunotarou once more. Suddenly a heavy feeling settles on your chest. “You’re leaving… I guess the time has come, Tsunotarou. Sooner than I would like, but you have to go home.”

Sitting up to his full height, he places his front paws on your shoulders. Staring at eye level, he silently conveys his message. Chuckling, you press your forehead against his. Wrapping your arms around his body, you give him a squeeze.

“I’ll see you soon Tsuno-no, that’s not your name. I’ll see you soon, Malleus.” Pulling away, you press a kiss to his forehead. He freezes while his eyes widen. You laugh at his shocked expression. “I just wanted to see if it would work.”

You give him one last hug. You’re not sure when you'll see him again, but you have a feeling you will. You just have to wait.

---

Half a year goes by and things return back to how it was before you found Malleus. The same routine that you once found comfort in feels empty. You go through the motions but none of it really registers. You tell yourself you’ll get back into the groove of things eventually. You’re lying.

Ace and Deuce drop by more often, which you appreciate. Though they don’t say it, they know you’re feeling down. However, they can only stay for so long before they’ll have to find a new commission to take. 

“Hey, do you guys actually know who Malleus Draconia is?” Ace asks one day over breakfast.

Deuce throws him a look, but you wave him off. “It’s fine, Deuce. It’s not like we can’t talk about him. And no, I don't know who he is.”

“He’s the next king of Briar Valley! And he’s considered one of the most powerful mages in the world! Can you believe that someone that scary was living with you?!”

You shrug, not really caring. “To me, he was just Tsunotarou. And even now that I know who he is, I don’t care.”

Ace snorts. “Of course you wouldn’t. Still, can you imagine how powerful his grandmother is? That’s one terrifying family you don’t want to mess with.”

“Though now that you mention it, Briar Valley sounds familiar…” Thoughtful chewing on a piece of bread, you wrack your brain. “Oh! That’s where Hornton is from!”

“Horn-what? Who’s that?” Deuce asks between mouthfuls of food.

Taking a sip of your juice, you nonchalantly reply, “You know the naked stranger I mentioned a long time ago. Turns out he’s from Briar Valley too.”

“Are you asking to be killed? Why would you talk to someone who can’t even wear clothes?!” Ace looks at you like you’ve grown too heads. “And what kind of name is Hornton?”

“It’s a nickname. He didn’t give me his real name so I gave him one.” 

Rolling his eyes, Ace shoves the rest of his breakfast in his mouth. “Yew swuk at maming!” Bits of food fly out of his mouth. You childishly stick your tongue out.

Deuce is quiet before asking, “Have you seen him recently?”

“No. He usually shows up during the full moon, but I haven’t seen him.” You did spend a few full moon nights waiting, but he never came. After a few times, you gave up. “Now that I think about it, he hasn’t shown up since Tsunotarou left…”

“...”

“...”

“...”

“You met one of the most powerful beings in the world and not only did you give him one dumb name, but two?!!”

“I didn’t know!”

Covering your face, you let out a frustrated groan. The table falls silent once more. Then from the redhead in a barely contained laugh, “So, you saw his crown jewels?”

“Ace!” Deuce's face turns bright red.

“What the hell is wrong with you?!” There’s a pause before the table erupts into laughter. Sometimes you question your choice of friends, but at times like these, you’re grateful for them.

---

“Do you have everything?” Deuce asks for the umpteenth time.

You adjust the straps to your bag. “Yup! I’ll be back in a few weeks at most. Just don’t burn down my home. Please.”

“I’m not that bad! If anything Deuce will burn down the cottage,” Ace shouts in the background. Merryweather gives his shoe a hard peck. “Evil bird!”

Shaking your head, you turn to Deuce. “I want all my ladies to be here when I get back. Or else.”

“Don’t worry, we’ll be fine,” he reassures. However, seeing Ace run away from three angry hens does little to relieve your concerns.

“Maybe I shouldn’t go…”

“Go! You got a personal invite from a prince to visit.” He waves you off. “Anyways, Trey will be coming to make sure your house is okay.”

“At least someone responsible will be here,” you mutter. Giving Deuce one last goodbye, you head over to where Sebek and Silver are waiting just outside your front gate. “Be nice to them, Ace!” you shout.

He’s too busy trying to fend off the hens to say much. “They truly are vicious creatures. Are you sure you didn’t train them to attack?” Sebek shudders at the sight of the redhead getting pecked at.

“They’re just overprotective. So, how are we getting to Briar Valley?” With a suitcase and backpack, you’re ready to leave home for the first time in a long time. Malleus’s invitation is safely tucked away in your bag.

Silver produces a small piece of paper from his pocket. You note there are some ruins written on it. “Everyone, hold on to me.” Placing a hand on his shoulder, he rips the paper in half. The ruins light up momentarily, before you’re engulfed in a blinding light.

You blink rapidly, trying to clear the spots dancing in your vision. Once you can see again, you look around. No longer home, you’re standing in front of a gate. A marvelous castle looms above. Despite all the opulence, you’re solely focused on the figure standing on the path leading to the castle.

Pushing through the gate, you rush forward. “W-wait!” You ignore Sebek’s shout.

Stopping just a few feet away, you break out into a grin. “I see you’re wearing clothes this time.”

He returns the smile with one of his own. “I wanted to look my best to greet you. You’re a very important guest after all.”

“Can I give you a hug or is that breaking decorum?” you ask, ignoring Sebek’s sputters of protest.

“Come on, Sebek. Fath-Lilia wanted us to see him right when we returned.” There’s a few words exchanged, but they leave you two alone.

Malleus opens his arms. “I would like that very much.”

Without hesitation, you wrap your arms around him. Despite not knowing Tsunotarou and Horton were one and the same until recently, there’s a sense of familiarity. He might not be a scaly black dragon like you’re used to, but he holds the same scent and warmth. His gaze has the same wonder and affection.

He nuzzles the top of your head. “I missed you.”

“I missed you too.” Pulling away, you take his hand. “Though I do kinda miss your little dragon form,” you tease.

Malleus squeezes your hand. “Perhaps I should ask grandmother to curse me once more?”

“No!” However, you note the way his brows are lifted and his mouth quirks up. “You’re teasing me, right?”

“Of course. I guess I missed the mark on that.” He shakes his head. “Before I can show you around, grandmother would like to meet you.”

“Right now? I’m not even presentable!” This is not what you expected. You’ve only been in Briar Valley for a whole 5 minutes, and now you’re expected to meet the queen!?

Malleus doesn’t seem worried, though. “You look wonderful as always. Come, let us be off.”

Before you can protest, he pulls you to his chest. Arm around your waist, you temporarily lose the ability to think as you’ve never been this close to him before. Well at least not in this form. In a blink, you’re no longer standing outside the castle.

You stand in a large gazebo surrounded by rose bushes as far as the eye can see. They’re all in full bloom. There’s a lot of time and effort put into the garden. You also notice a rather scary looking gargoyle further away. 

Someone hums with interest causing you to turn your attention away from the roses. The only other occupant in the gazebo is a regal looking woman holding a teacup. A table filled with small dishes and a tea set are laid before her. She has the same inky black hair as Malleus, though you note streaks of white in her impeccable style. Her horns are intricately decorated with delicate gold chains studded with gems. Green eyes flash with interest as she sets down the teacup without making a sound.

“Malleus, what a lovely surprise. Who is this?” she asks, eyes never leaving you. Her knowing gaze sees right into your very soul. 

“Grandmother, I’d like to introduce to you (Y/N).” You realize he’s still holding you close to his side. Disentangling yourself for him while stepping away at a respectable distance. You don’t know if you should be bowing. She is the queen after all!

She smiles, revealing shiny, white teeth. You briefly wonder if the smile is meant to be inviting or intimidating. Maybe both. “It’s a pleasure to meet you in person, little human. My grandson has been talking about you non-stop since he came home. And I must say, you’re as adorable as he described~”

“I-It’s nice to m-meet yo-you too, your highness!” Did she just call you adorable?? Your neck prickles as you suddenly feel too warm.

She stands up, towering over your form. Not only is she intimidating just by her aura but also in height! “Hoho, so formal! You can call me grandmother.”

There’s silence as your brain stutters to a halt. You can hear Malleus let out a deep breath while the queen's laughter echoes in the garden.

Tagging: @starsilluminateourgalaxy @stormyovent0aster @hanafubukki @mscarterakaviola98 @sparkleypancakez @youaskedfurret @yokokai @hajimeseyo @ravenlking @peter-the-pan @enchanted-nerd @nocturneabyss @chaasworld @lechuko @bloomsapphire @amar-farasha @itszzmoon @xlifexdeathx @supernovaicloud @mysterypotatoink @illytian @depressed-bitchy-demon @cheyuma @liquidfurby @bigcandlesmolbrain @thetruepair @chibishae34 @strawberry-soap-bar @sus0daddy @inana-mm @liliaviper @musclefanatica @loivre @chuchotheblackcat @lorkai

[alovelywaytospendanevening]

Sassoon and Graves in 1920.

When Robert Graves walked into C Company mess on 28 November 1915 on some errand, he noticed an unexpected book on the table. It was a copy of Post Liminium, a collection of essays by the late nineteenth-century poet Lionel Johnson. The army was not noted for its Lionel Johnson readers; a 'military text-book or a rubbish novel' were more the order of the day. Graves took a discreet look at the name on the flyleaf. A glance round the mess was enough to indicate 'Siegfried Sassoon': the tall, lanky, shy subaltern. Graves, also tall but anything but shy, quickly struck up a conversation. Both being off duty, the two were soon walking into Béthune for cream buns, busy talking poetry. Sassoon and Graves had a good deal in common. Both were conventionally unconventional public school products, trying to turn themselves into competent army officers and into the kind of poets Eddie Marsh would publish in his Georgian Poetry anthologies. Both, anxious about being insufficiently manly, had cultivated a tougher, sportier side: Sassoon through fox-hunting and cricket; Graves through boxing — he had been the school middleweight champion. Both were lonely and in love (Sassoon with David 'Tommy' Thomas, Graves with George 'Peter' Johnstone). Both were almost certainly still virgins. The friendship necessarily developed in fits and starts, and owed some of its intensity to that. Long conversations, the uninterrupted exchange of poems and confessions, were a rare luxury. Graves gave Marsh a humorous but probably not very misleading account of their difficulty 'in talking about poetry and that sort of thing': 'If I go into his mess and he wants to show me some set of verses, he says: "Afternoon Graves, have a drink… by the way, I want you to see my latest recipe for rum punch."' He also made it pretty clear to Marsh that it was not just poetry they had to be careful about discussing openly: 'I don't know what the CO would say if he heard us discussing the sort of things we do… His saying is that "there should be only one subject for conversation among subalterns off parade." I leave you to guess it.' There was obviously a secret thrill in these surreptitious exchanges, a sense that Graves and Sassoon were like two naughty schoolboys, hoodwinking their peers and those in authority.

— Harry Ricketts, Strange Meetings: The Poets of the Great War (2010)

[cambion-companion]

Dinner Date

Sorry I haven't written in a while! I have several anon asks requesting something small for a dinner date with Raphael, inspired no doubt by the lovely Mr. Wincott's contribution in the livestream!

With a little twist because I haven't explored what it would be like delivering the crown to the cambion.

"What could be more exquisite than watching the hero of Baldur's Gate walk to me, fresh in the moonlight." Raphael leaned forward in his seat, the cool night air and cricket song belaying the tension in his taught frame.

He smiled as you approached and sat at the wooden table, the warm brown eyes of his human guise sparkling in the candlelight. "You've proven to be quite the asset, my dear. A fortuitous investment, indeed."

"Raphael." You greeted, your stomach doing obnoxious flips as it always did in his presence. "I brought you a little souvenir, as I'm sure you already know."

"Indeed I am." Raphael purred, his eyes scanning you person with keen intent. "I had front row seats, as it were. Your victory was marvelous. You played your part well."

You grunted, not flattered by the way he treated it all like an elaborate theater production. You hefted the wrought iron crown out of your bag of holding and placed it, glittering, upon the table.

The weight of such an artifact drew both your gazes, and all that could be heard for several moments was a soft zephyr stirring the trees and the sound of frogs and crickets harmonizing to the summer night.

The candle sputtered in the breeze and you looked to Raphael only to find his eyes already locked on your face.

He spoke with an intensity you'd not yet become familiar with. "Well done." He swirled deep red wine in his crystal chalice. "I wish you'd reconsider becoming business partners."

"You say it like we'd be equals." You scoffed, knowing full well he'd love nothing more than to gain your soul for his collection. You shook your head and took a sip of your own drink. "I think not, Raphael. As much as I like you, I'm not that stupid."

"I'd be disappointed if you gave in easily." Raphael raised a hand and the crown vanished in a swirl of golden embers, their brief light reflected in your widened eyes. "I do so enjoy the chase, and you are such a lush prize."

You have the cambion a wry smile, a touch of fondness to the curl of your lips. "I'll admit, it would be disappointing if after this we never saw each other again."

Raphael nodded and beckoned a waiter, never removing his gaze from your face. He looked for all the world like the cat who got the cream. "What is the phrase you mortals are so fond of? Ah, yes." He gestured grandly as he spoke, illustrating his words with his hands. "I fully intend on having my cake, and I will eat it too."

Later that same night, Raphael had whisked you away back to his House of Hope. You'd expressed mild displeasure at being taken back to Avernus but he'd quelled your complaints with a look.

Raphael reclined in a grand chair, almost a throne in appearance, his leg crossed over the other. His human skin had been shed in favor of his larger, sharper devil form. He raised two fingers, snapped them, and conjured the crown of Karsus to float between where you stood and he sat.

"Now we are somewhere more appropriate, I require you to complete our contract."

You pursed your lips together, knowing the answer before you spoke the question. "How, exactly?"

Raphael paused for dramatic effect. When he spoke next it was a command, not a request. "Crown me."

The crown felt cold and heavy in your hands when you took it, the weight extending to your very soul as you approached where Raphael sat.

You slowly lifted it and placed the intricate metal piece gently onto his heady, being careful to accommodate for the thorny spiral of his horns. It slid perfectly atop his dark hair, you couldn't help but admire the way it looked. "As though it was made for you." You said aloud, not noticing the words come out of your mouth.

A large, clawed hand cupped the back of your neck, hellfire eyes burning into you. "As surely as your very soul was for me." Raphael purred and dragged you down for a searing kiss.

[thecatholicbozo]

Holy Silence in Daily Life

"Retirement is the laboratory of the spirit; interior solitude and silence are its two wings. All great works were prepared in the desert, including the redemption of the world." A.G. Sertillanges, OP, The Intellectual Life ================================================

I'm starting to realize I need to cultivate more silence in my life, especially in the evenings after work. I like staying productive, like listening to podcasts or lectures or audiobooks as I do chores or work on my hobbies, because I really do love learning (and it's a good way of making the chores more enjoyable).

But I think sometimes those things become a distraction if not done in moderation, even when they're beneficial & enjoyable. It takes me away from the task I am doing, as if my body was in one place & my mind was in another. It heightens a sense of "busy-ness" & being occupied, as if something has to always be happening.

Tonight, I was wrapping up some Warhammer painting when a chapter of an audiobook ended, and I chose to paint the remainder in silence, with just the noise of the crickets outside & my clock ticking. Those few minutes were profoundly refreshing, moreso than any of the things I was listening to (or even reading). It felt like I was so much more in the moment & open to God's activity than at almost any other point in the last couple of weeks. It felt like I was really engaged with Creation rather than merely "getting things done."

Abyssus abyssum invocat -"Deep is calling on deep in the roar of your waters, your billows and all your waves swept over me" (Ps 42:8). There's a real heaviness, a gravity to silence that I think draws us toward God & lets us be overwhelmed with him. When we strip away the rest of life's bustle & distractions, he is waiting in that raw & vulnerable silence. We find the clarity to remember the day's joys & sorrows, to pray for success in tomorrow's endeavors, to pray for our loved ones, and to just be comforted by God in that stillness. It's a reminder that ultimately, God is waiting for us, and reminds us of our purpose & mission as his creatures. And if there is still a busy-ness to our mind, I think silence makes it much more likely we find our way to moments of prayer & contemplation rather than pure distraction.

There's always a flood of new podcasts, album drops, sports broadcasts, and youtube videos to overwhelm our time & attention. But compared to God's majesty, they are just "shallow" calling upon us.

I hope y'all will join me in trying to be less "plugged in" / terminally online, and to try to sanctify some silence in daily life.

[elliesdin0saur]

Sleeping love.

The last of us

pairing: Ellie x fem!reader

summary: Cozy night with Jesse and Dina by the campfire turns into a sweet moment between you and Ellie. As tiredness sets in, Ellie's warmth and care shine through. She lends you her jacket, guides you to sleep and sharing sweet 'I love yous'.

word count: 1K

warnings: none, just fluff!

a/n: enjoy this piece of cute Ellie, also don't be shy to leave a request!

PS: Requests are open lovelies x

The night hung over Jackson like a heavy blanket, and the air was crisp with the scent of burnt wood and pine. You and Ellie sat by a crackling campfire with your friends, Jesse and Dina. The warmth of the flames danced on your faces, creating a cozy spot in the midst of the messed-up world you had lived in. Despite everything going south, laughter echoed through the air, a quick getaway from the tough reality.

Ellie, with her short auburn hair and a glint of mischief in her eyes, sat close to you. The sight of her made you smile, as you comfortably leaned against Ellie, your fingers entwined as you enjoyed the warmth of both the fire and each other.

Jesse and Dina were busy chatting about the best way to cook a rabbit they'd snagged earlier. Ellie, always the stubborn and funny one, jumped in with her comments that left everyone laughing. You, with your contagious giggles, added to the mix of joy around the campfire.

As the night went on, a subtle change started sneaking in. A calm tiredness settled upon you, your yawns showing you were getting sleepy. Ellie, being the observant one, couldn't help but notice the signs of weariness in her girlfriend's eyes.

The flickering flames danced to an unheard melody, casting shadows that played on the tired lines etched on your face.

"Feeling tired, baby?” Ellie asked, a teasing grin playing on her lips. The weariness in your eyes didn't go unnoticed.

You managed a half-hearted nod, eyelids heavy with exhaustion. "Maybe a bit."

Without a moment's hesitation, Ellie unzipped her jacket and gracefully slid it off her shoulders. With a tender smile, she draped it over you, you welcomed the warmth with a grateful expression. The jacket, still infused with Ellie's scent, enveloped like a protective cocoon against the cool night air.

"Here, babe. Don't want you catching a chill out here," Ellie said, her voice carrying a gentle concern that spoke volumes about your bond. You mustered a tired but appreciative smile, pulling the jacket snugly around your body. "Thanks Els”.

As the night progressed, the embers of the fire waned, mirroring your diminishing energy. You found herself leaning against Ellie, who welcomed the contact with open arms. Ellie's embrace was a sanctuary, a refuge from the weariness that threatened to consume you soon. The gentle warmth radiating between you was not just a product of the crackling flames; it was a reflection of the genuine affection that had blossomed throughout the months.

The night wore on, and the distant sounds of crickets provided a soothing backdrop. Ellie's fingers traced absentminded patterns on your arm, a silent reassurance that spoke of your unspoken understanding. Despite the fatigue, a quiet contentment settled over you, a shared moment that showed friendship had evolved into something deeper—an unbreakable bond forged through shared laughter, challenging trails, and quiet moments like these.

Your breathing became slower, the rhythmic rise and fall of your chest matching the hypnotic dance of the firelight. Ellie, too, felt the exhaustion of the day's struggles, but the warmth of you against her provided a unique comfort that energized her spirit. With a gentle touch, Ellie adjusted the jacket around you, ensuring you were snug and protected. The night air carried a crisp scent of pine, and the distant hooting of an owl. 

Amidst the laughter and chatter of your friends, you gave in to the lull of sleep. Ellie couldn't help but steal glances at you, a fond smile on her lips. She watched as your breathing evened out, the calm look on her face turning the tough reality into a short moment of peace.

Ellie stuck around with her friends a bit longer, not wanting to wake you from the much-needed nap. Jesse and Dina exchanged knowing glances, silently acknowledging the sweet scene unfolding before them. Eventually, the night quieted down, and Ellie knew it was time to take you home.

As Ellie greeted them and carefully maneuvered away from the group, she felt a pang of reluctance to disturb the peace that had settled upon you. Gently lifting your head from her shoulder, Ellie marveled at the way your features softened in slumber. A small, contented sigh escaped out of your lips. Cradling you in her arms, Ellie couldn't help but marvel at the simplicity of finding solace in the person she loved, even if just for a moment.

The walk back to your cabin was a quiet, walking beneath the moonlit canopy of Jackson. Ellie led the way, each step accompanied by the rhythmic rustle of leaves under her boots. You stirred slightly in Ellie's arms, eyes fluttering open for a brief moment before surrendering once more to the embrace of sleep. Ellie smiled down, a silent acknowledgment of the weariness you both carried.

"Almost there, love” Ellie whispered, her voice a gentle murmur. "You can keep snoozin' if you want."

You managed a drowsy smile, nuzzling even 

closer to Ellie. "Mm, comfy. 'S nice."

The cabin's door creaked open under Ellie's careful hand, revealing the dimly lit interior. A lantern cast a warm, golden glow across the small space, transforming it into a haven against the darkness outside. As Ellie laid you on the bed, the tenderness in her touch spoke volumes of how much she cared about you.

The worn blankets, proof to the shared history of countless nights, cradled together like a cocoon. Ellie gently managed to take your shoes off of you, not wanting to wake you up.

She covered you with a blanket and with a soft smile, she quietly kicked off her boots before climbing in beside you. 

As Ellie snuggled up beside you, she felt the warmth enveloping you in the cozy cabin. You laid comfortably, in that sweet space between being awake and drifting off, letting out a happy sigh as Ellie pulled you in close.

Ellie's fingers played with your hair, a soft smile tugging at her lips as she she watched you. Your eyelashes fluttered a bit, responding to the soothing touch. Outside, the leaves rustled quietly, a noise that seemed to match the rhythm of your breaths.

As Ellie continued playing with your hair, the outside world faded away, leaving only the comforting sounds of their cozy cabin. Amidst the quiet, your soft words broke through,  barely audible.

“I love you," you mumbled, the words hanging sweetly in the air. Ellie's heart skipped a beat at the sincerity in your voice. A warmth, deeper than the blankets around you, spread through Ellie. Without missing a beat, Ellie whispered back, "I love you too, baby,” confirming the love that bound you both together.

As Ellie continued to run her fingers through your hair, a peaceful calm settled over you. The moon added a soft glow through the window, landing softly on your skin.

In the quiet, your breathing steadied, and murmurs faded into a serene silence. Ellie, still holding you close, admiring your sweet nose and how you’d snore a little every now and then. As you slipped into dreams, Ellie held you a bit tighter, cherishing the warmth of your togetherness.

The tired lines had disappeared, leaving behind the peaceful look of someone not bothered by the chaos outside. Ellie couldn't help but be amazed at the simple beauty of the moment—the calmness of sleep, the warmth of shared blankets, and the gentle rise and fall of your chest.

As Ellie closed her eyes, tiredness taking over herself as well. The world might have gone haywire, but in that small cabin in Jackson, love and comfort ruled. They slept, tangled together in the embrace of their own little cabin, finding peace in each other.

===

[sgiandubh]

Whisky, gin and beer

It was always going to be about beer, too - not only whisky and gin. And it was probably designed to be a simultaneous project, that might have been postponed for various reasons: funny how all those intelligent people across the street forget everything about COVID, when it does not fit their agendas. And by COVID, I do not mean only the prolonged lockdowns, but first and foremost the worldwide logistics crisis, with compromised supply chains and overall a huge blow on the transports' sector.

In fact, looking at those trademark websites, it becomes evident that first (now abandoned) trademark application for beer was filed in at the same time as the one for whisky, on December 28, 2018:

Separate categories, as per US regulations, need separate filings, of course. And beer is a brilliant, simple idea, with high quality local ingredients (it's really barley, water, hops and yeast) relatively easy to source. Well, spare perhaps for the hops, but that is not really a problem, anymore:

(Source: the James Hutton Institute's booklet Hops in Scotland, 2018 - well, then. The institute is based in Dundee, by the way, so I think they know exactly what they are talking about, especially after a four year long feasibility study with encouraging results: https://www.hutton.ac.uk/news/scottish-hops-viable-commercial-crop-hutton-research-finds)

As I always make a point of reminding anyone, this page does not deal in fantasy and empty, meaningless scouring of social media accounts. And cackle to your heart's content, Mordor, but S seems to have a genuine, informed interest in the industry, as shown above.

This is a different business plan and a different marketing model, based on affordable production costs and yield/volume (as compared to successive, 'limited batches' of tequila or whisky, where the accent is placed on the excellence of the product and know-how, as reflected in the final price tag). You can bottle that beer or you can sell it on tap, partnering with local bars and pubs first, then progressively extending that network. And I bet the farm it is going to be a premium, artisanal beer first, with options open for a more democratic product, once brand awareness is properly built: beer is versatile, like that.

Whisky and gin were expensive, carefully curated pet projects. Beer is a fun, easy and lucrative one, with a wider clientele and fast growing potential. And this is how that unknown, struggling Scottish actor who once was the face of Tennent's has a fair opportunity to strike it big. To be followed, which I might do. And this is also how his products could cover the entire price range, from luxury to affordable.

It is also always disheartening to see how all those bitter women congregating on certain Tumblr pages feel the need to dismiss anything he does. As I always said and I always will, many of them have no idea about the very basics of business and trade, no exposure to that world and, to be honest, no particular intellectual acuity. Plus I bet the farm many of them lie about their own circumstances: it's easy to pretend, on the Internet and always sexier (and lame, of course) to introduce yourself as a corporate whatever than a secretary. But I wonder how would they feel, in the unlikely situation they would be running their own lemonade stand, if passers by started cackling and bitching about their trade, out of the blue.

So, all in all, we seem to be dealing with some careful preparation, portfolio diversification and yes, taking much needed strides away from McGrandma. To be continued, of course...

PS: FMN Gin, still crickets? Ahhh...

[thoughtroomba02]

TS Film Thoughts Masterpost

As promised.

Let's start things off -

Breaking News - Headlines about the film

Dec 9 2022 - her film contract makes headlines

From what I can find, this is the first that anyone knows she is producing a film. There are no details released other than it's a script she wrote and she will be directing the film.

The next we hear is Dec 7, 2023 from the Tennessean --

It's been crickets, essentially. There are no public details I can find about the film anywhere including cast list, release date, content, ETC.

Interestingly, two days ago -- though uncertain of validity of source -

I don't have access to puck so cannot confirm what the article says; but this was recent! So; in theory, she finishes her Eras tour and moves directly in to film.

More on how Disney+ ties in our next section...

Who is Searchlight Pictures?

Created April 29, 1994 - formerly known as Fox Searchlight/under 20th/21st Century Fox

Biggest success: Slumdog Millionaire 187 Academy Ward Nominations with 46 wins; 5 Best Picture since 2009 117 Golden Globe Nominations; 51 wins 66 Screen Actors Guild Award Nominations; 55 wins 137 Independent Spirit Awards, 54 Wins

Other Notable Films: 12 Years A Slave; Black Swan; Napoleon Dynamite;

20th century fox, prior to the creation of Searchlight, was prominent in the specialty and independent films market in the 1990s; it carried this interest into Searchlight, at least initially.

In 2012, it was incorporated into Murdoch's 21st Century Fox. Barf.

On Dec 14, 2017 Disney put their first bid out on 21st Century Fox/Fox Searchlight. On March 19, 2019 the companies merged and Disney acquired Fox Searchlight; Fox News notoriously split independently. Disney dropped the name Fox; so now we have just Searchlight Pictures. There is also a Searchlight Pictures TV and shorts production, which for the sake of time I will not get into.

For Funsies, here is a short film (Jun 18 2019, after Disney acquired) produced by them called....LAVENDER. About a gay man who has a relationship with a married gay couple. Can't make it up.

Anyway, since merging with Disney especially, the company seems to be LGBTQ friendly.

And yes, Joe Alwyn has worked with Searchlight, with tweets I found dating back to 2018 with Searchlight UK. Make of that what you would like, I have no real objective commentary on the matter.

Taylor as a Director

She also directed the Long Pond Studio Sessions and Miss Americana.

Most of her directorial work has been since the Lover debut. Most of which is very queer coded/sapphic.. and again, make of that what you will.

Appearances/Pap Walks, ETC

Since her split from JA, we have seen her with multiple friends in the film industry. Among these: Ryan Reynolds, Blake Lively, Selena Gomez, Keleigh Teller, Miles Teller, Sophie Turner, Emma Stone...

And dare I say.... Travis Kelce, who seems to want to break his way into the entertainment industry?

(aside from this headline; his failed dating show, his podcast, his multiple PR deals like with ZenWater... etc. I rest my case).

We also know there has been some B roll footage taken at the Chiefs Games.

Additionally, the media coverage of this relationship has been an absolute f*cking circus; with constant headlines of the two and their "engagement" / relationship dynamics. On Taylor's end, we have had constant references to Bejeweled (where she Ghosts); including Keleigh Teller giving her the opal ring.

The Speculation

Yall, this is my opinion - you can agree, disagree, etc; but I have no insider information. Just thoughts.

She makes her film directorial debut with Searchlight - recently acquired by Disney, who is pro-LGBTQ; and is clearly in deep with business deals with them, as seen on Taylor Nation and her Eras Tour Film.

We have rumors of her beginning her film production at the end of the ERAS tour, along with knowledge of her currently with B roll footage from chiefs games. We have multiple highly papp'ed appearances with her + TK; but also with multiple film stars, including Blake Lively (still not over that photo), Sophie Turner (I do think there's altruism here tbh on TS's end), and Keleigh. If you believe Keleigh is her stand in invisible bride.... Holy shit. Between the opal ring shutdown of the media circus as well as her and TS literally taking a page out of TSHOEH and dressing in character...

My ultimate suspicion is that she's using actual experiences of her current life-highly papp'ed - to tell her story. And that Keleigh is her stand in muse in this film.

I also think the @spade-riddles we've been getting about a final act ending, etc, pertain to her film. I don't have evidence aside from speculation.

I rest my case. Enjoy this post and make of it what you will.

[razbrry]

may i request grell w/ an s/o who has the opposite personality as her at first but when the two got closer they sometimes show their more dramatic and sassy side pls?

also s/o is into artsy things like drawing, writing, theatre, fashion, etc.

note💋— i read 'drawing, writing, theatre, fashion' and immediately screamed. you're so cool, anon!!!

with you, being the seemingly opposite artsy lover showing of their sass— ft. grell sutcliff

grell loves you, you’re like a chia pet

in the best way possible of course X3

you’re basically the glue to the relationship, such serene energy!

your passion for all things of the arts intrigues grell, it’s one of the reasons she fell for you.

does grell appreciate art and writing like you do? you know what, not as much.

but theatre and fashion? … we’ll get into that later

she finds such pride being seen with someone reading a book.

with no pictures? reaaaaally??

“wahhj! you’re so deep, s/o!”

she thinks the way you carry yourself compliments her so well.

that’s like an amazing achievement, good job!

and oh dear me, you’re always so well dressed and accessorized

like, could she even fall further in love with you?

glaring at viscount druitt together from affar.

“now, is he really in the place to be that full of himself?… even for my likings, he sure knows how to girl out.” grell shudders.

batting your eyelashes, you shake your head slowly. “praying for the day he realizes nobody likes him. that poor, poor thing.”

ok so grell is screaming like a banshee

where you trying to imitate her? that’s cute!

no you weren’t, but okay.

she believed you where just trying to fit in with her sense of style for a good while until it kept repeating itself, looking more real by the second.

your eye rolls, she loves them so much hello???

you’d get feisty at the most uncalled for times.

ouuu…

you are SO her type.

and the way you two yap about theatre like there’s no tomorrow is so much fun

you and grell 100% go see productions together when she’s off work.

both of your eyes lighting up, analyzing the pretty set, costumes and props of the performance

if this WASN’T in the victorian era, grell’s favorite musical would be ‘chicago’

HANDSDOWN.

nono, and lets talk about your art.

most of the time she sees you, you’re holding that sketchbook like it’s nobody’s business.

and *it is* quite literally nobody’s business.

meaning the grell has been dying to take a peek at what you’ve been scribbling in there.

many attempts of her trying to shimmy her way to grab is away, just for you to snatch it back dramatically.

she cackles every time

and when you eventually give in, she is AWESTRUCK.

grell is staring at those pages.

cricket cricket cricket

kind of embarrassing. does she like them or not?

her face is in fact burning up! you have the cutest little doodles and sketches of her.

she’s going to tease you about this every time she gets the cue to. congrats!!!

seriously, she loves all of your little artistic interests.

“paint me like one of your french girls”

no grell, we’re not painting you naked. :(

maybe

[liketwoswansinbalance]

Rhian, drop your morning/night routine!

Rhian: In the morning, I don't "wake up" like most do. Instead, I simply get out of bed since I'm usually up all night attempting to fall asleep. Repose rarely overtakes me, and my mind's always reeling. I may have to commission a sleeping draught from a witch one day.

At this stage of the morning, Rafal is usually still out cold, and it doesn't matter how loud I am, so I listen to the morning Kingdom Council spellcast reports from a mirror I've ensorcelled at full volume and review the Putsi market trends as I start on my routine.

The Gillikin Gazette's updates about its ongoing cathedral construction are my favorites though—its flying buttresses rival Camelot's dated, heavier Romanesque designs. I only manage to catch those reports on Saturdays though since I have to be out of the tower and on my way at an early hour most days. Oh, and I tend to cast a spell, so my bed makes itself while I busy myself with more important tasks.

Firstly, I need my ermine slippers and silk dressing gown. I shower and usually start with a facial, rosewater, or whichever magical cure-all I'm currently using to remove my under-eye shadows with.

Though, Rafal's been a bother about the cucumbers I go through. He thinks I'll drain the Woods' supply and that he won't have any left for his sandwiches. Mind you, that isn't true in the least.

I use charcoal imported from Akgul to remove impurities of the skin, and that's been rather effective as of late. I also ice my pores, page through Maxine's progress reports, and keep tabs on the lackadaisical performers. Tracking's very important at a School like ours, you know.

On some occasions, I do my own makeup, but really, it seems to me that only the Evergirls care if they notice at all. These days, I've been fond of whipped beetroot tinctures and orchid cologne. Then, I arrange my hair, dress suitably for the day's activities in whichever clothes I pressed the night before, and polish my boots. I polish Rafal's too. He doesn't notice or care—thinks we're immune to disease and scrutiny—but he's missing the point. It's about image, of course. And I worry that he'll bring bird mites from his Stymphs indoors, and that would not only be unseemly for a School Master, but a disaster of inordinate proportions, even if our health isn't at risk. Think of the parent complaints we'd receive, if we had an infestation. The picket-lines would never end!

When I head out, Rafal's almost always still asleep, so I bring us back breakfast, and wake him then.

Well, I say "wake him," but rousing him isn't as simple as I've likely led you to believe. By now, it's turned into an awfully elaborate burlesque. I switch mirror channels to the Jaunt Jolie Music Hall's Cricket and Brass orchestra production of the day. If that fails, I bang a ladle on our breakfast's silver cloche over him. And if all else fails, I shout "FIRE," "INVASION," or even "PIRATES" if I'm desperate and running late, and that does the trick. I still haven't figured out if he's been deluding me though, or if it's his dreams that leave him with those horrid little grins.

Yet, this particular song-and-dance of sorts has been more of a recent development. His clarion-belled alarm clock from Geppetto's broke last month, and he hasn't had the time to replace it. The flight's a day's trip, and this new class of Nevers cannot be left alone for more than a day because he's sure there'll be either an outbreak of some pox or of some general pandemonium since he doesn't think I'm capable of maintaining order. I'm more than capable in truth.

We eat then, he in his pajama shorts and shirt and black stockings with the runs I chastise him about throwing out everyday, and me in my typical smart attire.

At the end, I wash up, sit, and wait for him to set the dishes to scrubbing themselves, comb his hair, and dress. After that, we split off to our respective sides for the day, and I see him again at dusk.

"Bye." or "Morning, brother." is as talkative as he gets at this time of day before he vanishes into the Tunnel of Trees or crosses the Halfway Bridge into the smog, unless he has a storybook victory to congratulate himself over or another point to bolster his side of an argument with—arguments I naively believed we'd already put to bed the night before.

After a full day of overseeing classes, Rafal legs it over the window sill when he returns and showers immediately when he gets back. Then, he grades papers and exams. On days when he's exhausted by puppeteering mock battle raids or Storian knows what he subjects those poor children to, he passes out in bed fully-clothed without showering, and showers in the morning.

All the while, I perform my nightly skin- and hair care routines, snuff out the candles, and get in bed with an eye mask, in my attempt to get a good night's sleep, often sooner than he goes to bed because he reads news updates and whatever musty tome he's tearing through late into the night.

Sometimes, I wake in the middle of a night terror and realize he's still up marking or reading or scheming, so I confiscate the candles at that point and force him to sleep. Rarely does he listen, and I've stopped bothering most of the time as he reads by the light of his fingerglow instead, contrary to all sound advice. He doesn't view sleep as necessary seeing as the Storian sustains us, but he has no sleep troubles, so I suppose that's an easy conclusion to form if you're him. The latest remedy I've resorted to is tucking lavender into my pillowcase, but I've had not a drop of luck.

[justforbooks]

Ed McLachlan

Cartoonist whose work appeared in Punch, Private Eye, the Spectator and the Oldie in a 60-year career

The cartoons of Ed McLachlan, who has died aged 84, were at once as deliciously dark and twisted as Charles Addams, as imaginative as William Heath Robinson, as surreal as John Glashan and as quintessentially British as the Punch cartoonist Pont.

Ed’s immediately recognisable pen line, and cast of buck-toothed, big-nosed protagonists, entertained, shocked and outraged from the pages of Punch, Private Eye, the Oldie and Spectator, among many others. Often set in traditional gag cartoon settings, from date nights and office boardrooms to middle-class front rooms and Stannah stairlifts, his cartoons took the mundane and delivered the hilariously absurd.

Giant creatures were often present, creating destruction in otherwise quaintly British scenes. For Private Eye’s 10th anniversary edition in 1971, Ed drew a monstrous hedgehog rushing across a busy road, pulverising an unfortunate car and its occupants as it goes. In another cartoon, an enormous dinosaur rampages through a city past an ongoing cricket match, while an exasperated commentator complains that “once again we have interruption of play caused by movement behind the bowler’s arm”.

Ed combined his vivid imagination with a relentless work ethic, his work also appearing in magazines as various as the New Statesman, the Big Issue, Reader’s Digest, the New Yorker and Playboy.

Initially he had not considered a career in cartoons, despite contributing a number to his college magazine. However, in 1961, while working at a printing company designing posters, he was persuaded by colleagues (by way of a £5 bet) to submit a scrapbook of cartoons to Punch. To his surprise, the magazine bought one for seven guineas, more for an hour’s work than he was earning in a week at the printing office. Within weeks they had bought several more, thus beginning a regular contribution to the magazine that would last until it ceased production in 2002.

Born in Humberstone, Leicestershire, to Edward McLachlan, a structural engineer, and his wife, Josephine, a secretary, Ed went to Wyggeston grammar school, then studied graphic design at Leicester College of Art (now DeMontfort University), graduating in 1959.

Following his success with Punch, in 1965 he went freelance, resolving to establish a career by “making myself a nuisance banging on agencies’ doors”. The following year, he began drawing a series of political cartoons for the Sunday Mirror, under the title McLachlan’s View. In 1967, he started to contribute cartoons to Private Eye, and in 1970 left the Sunday Mirror for the Evening Standard as its new political cartoonist. Between 1972 and 1974, he produced a series of pocket cartoons titled Insiders for the Daily Mirror.

Apart from a brief return to Leicester College of Art as a part-time lecturer in graphics (1967-70), Ed thereon focused on his cartoon and illustration work, which also encompassed children’s books, TV series and advertising campaigns.

In 1969, he wrote and illustrated his first children’s book, Simon in the Land of Chalk Drawings. This was the first of four books about a little boy who owns a magic chalkboard, upon which everything he draws becomes real. The books were made into an animated television series, which first aired in Canada before appearing on British television on ITV in 1976, running for 24 episodes. The series was directed by Ivor Wood, best known for shows such as The Magic Roundabout and The Wombles, and narrated by Bernard Cribbins. It remained popular in Canada, where it was remade in 2002.

Ed also wrote and illustrated the children’s books Claude Makes a Change (1979), Magnus in the Land of Lost Property (1985) and The Dragon Who Could Only Breathe Smoke (1985), and illustrated more than 80 books in the Bangers and Mash educational reading series by Paul Groves, which were made into a children’s ITV series in 1989. Nonfiction books include Bill Beaumont’s Bedside Rugby (1986) and John Walker’s Chess for Tomorrow’s Champions (1994), as well as many of the For Dummies instructional series.

Over the years Ed was also in demand for advertising campaigns for brands such as Dunlop, Renault, Alka Seltzer, Dewar’s Whisky and Walkers. Most recently, his cartoons were used for a series of London Underground posters for Timothy Taylor’s Brewery.

He received many awards, including illustrative cartoonist of the year (1980) and advertising cartoonist of the year (1982) from the Cartoonists’ Club of Great Britain, and gag cartoonist of the year twice (1982 and 1997) from the Cartoon Art Trust, which also presented him with a lifetime achievement award in 2011. In 2016, he was given an honorary doctorate from the University of Leicester.

Across the span of his 60-year career, Ed’s style of drawing, a confident ink line and a monochrome wash on artist’s board, remained remarkably consistent. Later in his career, he began to add colour, working skilfully in watercolour on a scale much larger than his cartoons would be reproduced in print. While much of the detail would be lost when the cartoons were shrunk down for reproduction in magazines, when the originals began to be exhibited in a gallery setting – and in the Chris Beetles gallery, of which I am director, from 2001 – his expertise in these mediums could be truly appreciated.

Ed continued to draw cartoons up until his death. In one of his final cartoons, for Private Eye, taste testers at a crisp factory lament their new range of extra crispy snacks, which are so crunchy they have caused one of their colleagues to explode.

He is survived by his wife, Shirley (nee Gerrard), whom he married in 1964, their daughters, Danielle, Joelle and Aimee, and son, Alex, and by four grandchildren.

🔔 Edward Rolland McLachlan, cartoonist, author and illustrator, born 22 April 1940; died 29 September 2024

Daily inspiration. Discover more photos at Just for Books…?

[tara-girl]

Simple Astrological Remedies for Landing Your Dream Job!

A person is born with many skills. But Universe has fixed a particular timing of showing your skills which will be beneficial for you in form of good job, career and gains in that timing.

Dasha is the most important factor which tells that universe is calling you for which purpose. If you will go in that direction with right intention, paitence and hard work then universe will support you fully to that field.

I will explain it through famous Indian Bollywood celebrity chart, Shahrukh Khan-

(His Astro Chart- Pic credit- AstroSage App)

1-When he was going through Rahu mahadasha-

His rahu is sitting in 10th house of career and hard work. The lord of 10th house is sitting in 5th house which is Venus(planet of creativity and arts). He worked hard in field of creativity at that time.He debuted his acting career and worked in many television serials.

2-When his Jupiter Mahadasha came-

His Jupiter is sitting in 11th house of gains and all wishes. He won big awards. He bought his dream house Mannat during that dasha.

Jupiter is also aspecting Venus which is enhancing it's qualities of creativity and arts. He joined main stream bollywood and acted in many movies and gave super hit movies during this dasha.

Jupiter is also aspecting 7th house of business and legal partnership. So, he also founded his own production house I.e Red Chilli Entertainment with his wife.

3-When his Saturn Mahadasha came-

His Saturn is sitting in 7th house of business and legal partnership in its own sign of Aquarius. During that time his company Red Chilli Entertainment had already produced or co-produced at least nine films. He teamed up with a UAE based real estate firm with his wife Gauri for a residential complex right in front of the beach in Dubai.

As Saturn was also aspecting Mars from it's 10th aspect. Mars represent sports also.Therefore he also purchased Cricket team of Indian Premier League (IPL).

Because his 10th lord(the house of career) is sitting in 5th house(the house of creativity).

Remember, important in his journey is that he is working in the field of creativity. He had expanded all his business with the help of his creative and artistic skills(acting).

This shows that one should choose career field according to his/her 10th lord placement but should use that skill in that field only whose planetary dasha is going on.

[soobrat]

this isn't whining, this is an explanation and a request for information. if not, I may not be active anymore

So recently I've become a more disciplined and driven person. If you don't know, I'm in college and I have a job. I've recently realized my dream and have set aside hours of my time to dedicate to it. I've also put more time towards things like skincare and exercise and meditation etc. Why am I saying this? Because after hours of productivity, I have a gap. Free hours where I don't have anything that needs to be done. This is where I decide to write for you guys. And every time I do, I wonder if it's a good use of my time. I wonder if I should use that little time for video games instead.

You are free to ignore this, but just being transparent, that makes it more possible that I don't log in again. I used to be afraid of addressing this head on as to not offend or upset you guys, but honestly vitriol and annoyance would be better than the embarrassing silence I'm met with. This isn't coming from high levels of emotion, I'm actually very calm and kind of excited to finally get this off my chest. These are just the facts of what's going on in my brain.

If you just want to know what to do to guarantee I'll stay, scroll to the bottom of this. If you don't care that much, that's cool too.

I'm working on Mosquito part three because I realize it's been much too long since it's been updated. I'm busy, but still. And I can't even have fun with the story I admittedly really like because the entire time I'm overthinking. You see, when a story doesn't get notes, that in itself isn't the problem. The problem is what's in between the lines. Did this not get notes because people didn't like it? Does this topic bore them? Do they not like idol/celebrity aus? And while I'm writing, I can't stop nitpicking what I think is causing the eerie silence.

I used to be spoiled. Fics like loosen up, brat/slut, oblivious were very well received. I would be reblogging feedback constantly, see notes fill up my notification center, I would get the message. I did take a lengthy hiatus and stopped updating as fast, but when I finally came back, people would never guess my follower count by my engagement.

Don't be fooled though, this number has been hovering around this for possibly a year, maybe even longer. It dips and then rises by a few and then dips again. Repeat. I started to think that this just wasn't a lot of followers. In the grand scheme of things, it ain't. But then I look on my dash and see a writer thank their readers for 300 followers. I click on their page and a fic they posted yesterday have ONE HUNDRED times more notes than a fic I posted several months ago. And it's not just a fluke, most of their fics are this way. People who have been writing as long as I have and have a similar follower count (I assume) have very high note counts as well. Some of them even have spotty posting schedules and have had lengthy hiatuses.

Again, I want to stress that this isn't coming from heightened emotions or jealousy. Honestly it's mostly confusion. Wondering if I did something wrong. The closest I've gotten to getting emotional is with the embarrassment. I see other creators get flooded with asks and response to their normal posts just talking about their day. And when I do it, radio silence. Again, this sometimes happens with writers with a fraction of my follower count.

I'll make a confession. I have been sending myself anon asks. Which ones are me? That's for sherlock holmes to deduce. Why did I do it? I've already admitted it, it's embarrassment. I feel embarrassed when I post something and am met with crickets. I honestly feel pathetic.

I am diagnosed with anxiety so I'll chalk up the following to that: I have come to the conclusion that I annoy you guys. Even that I annoy other writers since I don't have many writer friends on here. It's gotten to the point where I feel like every interaction I make with anyone on this website in any way is annoying someone. When I changed my theme and no one commented on it at all, My mind automatically went to "God the theme is obnoxious and embarrassing" and I already want to change it despite all the time I put into it.

Can you see now why I dread opening up Tumblr? I dread opening up docs of my fics for this reason. Idk how to transition so I'll just pivot to my next point.

My fics have a head scratching amount of notes. This started around when I posted Industry Babies and Amusement, when I was genuinely shocked by the lack of notes. I stopped Mortal Sin out of embarrassment because I posted a part and it only had ONE note for DAYS. Let me show you the best performing recent fic:

This is Mosquito pt. 1. I'm very proud of this! It made me so eager to continue the series. In hindsight, this is still a negligible amount of notes, and a chunk of these are ICYMI reblogs from me, but I'm still happy about it. Here's part two even with a lot of ICYMI reblogs:

I'll be honest, this was a head scratcher. This has barely budged since then, too. The message I ultimately received is that people won't read if there is 0 smut. Well? That fucking sucks because this is a slow burn fic! And honestly I don't want to throw in Soobin randomly fucking random girls just so people will read.

I also recently posted the final part of FUML. Final parts always get the most notes (I always assumed people just skipped to the last part which always perplexed me) and here's how that did (with ICYMI reblogs):

This is so so good and I'm so grateful. And it got a lot of notes very fast.

Now I did two requested fics, mind you this is the amount of notes they got with NO ICYMI reblogs:

Now, I'm about to say that this is pretty damn good, because I actually think so and I'm thankful for it. But every so often I kinda sit there and think about how it feels like I'm begging for pocket change. This feels so conceited and ungrateful of me. But remember, the reason why we're even talking about this is because my time has become a lot more valuable, and to be frank, the notes are making writing fanfics seem like a bad way to spend my time.

I'll be sad to go, but after all this, you have to understand while I'm hesitant to stay. I'd have to be a narcissist to think anyone actually sat and read through all this so I'll do a little TL/DR:

The lack of engagement has changed from a little disappointing to mixed signals being sent about what you guys want (hence all the polls)

The lack of banter and casual asks or just engagement to my casual posts has made me a little embarrassed compared to writers with similar follower counts or less followers

The simple act of not liking a post affects the overall notes and can harm the chances of a fic being posted, or send a message about what you want to see

I get the unreasonable feeling I annoy you guys and other writers so frankly it makes opening tumblr or interacting with this blog in any way just. not. fun.

I forgot to add this in the doc but to be frank (again), it kind of annoys me to see a fic get little to no interaction, and then I reblog a picture of an idol and all of a sudden my followers are acting. Juuuust being honest.

As a reader who doesn't want to see you go, what can I do?

Be honest! Now, I'm not asking for lengthy dissertations on why my writing is bad. I'm not looking for writing criticism. What I am looking for is for the people who are silent readers or just straight up scroll past what I post, tell me why. Don't be afraid to hurt my feelings. Is it my posting schedule (or lack thereof)? Is it because you just don't feel the same as you did when you read my older stuff? Or do you just never bother with pressing the buttons? The silence is worse than whatever you have to say.

Let me know that you always press like on my fics, but are just a bit shy and don't like leaving comments or asks. This is totally fine by the way, knowing you exist is enough.

Be more active from now own, reply to posts, send asks, reblog and just keyboard smash in the replies. ANYTHING is good. Don't take this as me scolding you, just as a suggestion in case you wanted to know how to help.

I won't be sending myself anons anymore (yeah... if you missed that, scroll up the the indented section) so if you see my blog in it's natural dead state, disrupt the deadness! You'll actually make my day.

If this flops, I'll still proooobably use my main acc. But honestly I'll probably just be on my poll acc (@kpolls ) because it's actually really fun lol. See you all on the flip side!

Mal

[qiwoomi]

iii. care for you (snippet)

series masterlist main masterlist prev next

The sun is yet to rise, the pitch black sky and the sounds of crickets accompanying the darkness at dawn.

Just like how Alhaitham clocked out at 5PM sharp, the Chief Operating Officer of his father's corporation— and soon to be the successor of said company clocked into the building as early as 5AM.

It is unusual for the most prominent worker of the company to clock in this early. Though Alhaitham is known to be disciplined and productive— which is some of the criteria that makes his colleagues look up to him, to the point where there's even a discussion amongst them that agrees a man with such qualities is the most eligible to carry his family's inheritance.

However, behind the identity that is portrayed by outsiders Alhaitham is not even as near as what they think. They only see a glimpse of his character and words about his attitude spread like wildfire.

One thing that they didn't know is that, he only sees his work as a responsibility. Just like everyone else, he can be lazy too. He stands by his own belief that he only do a certain thing if he can benefit from it.

Even the security was shocked— it's as if sleep had completely washed out of his body before permitting his car to be parked in the parking lot.

Alhaitham didn't even have any official business to be this early, he just feels like it.

As he got off the elevator, the man spends a few minutes turning on the main switch as the once gloomy office brightens up.

He then starts working on his slide that is to be presented for the upcoming meeting. In the midst of all of it, he's mentally planning his schedule for the day. As he hums to a few songs— indicating that the temporary silence gave him the relaxation that he needs and craves for. Which is rare to get by.

He glanced at the analog clock, there's only approximately 15 minutes before the time strikes 6. Which is the expected time where most salaryman and salarywoman should begin their workloads for the day.

The slide is finally done, as he's leaning back against his office chair with a sigh of relief.

Alhaitham reached for his phone, texting Kaveh for the thousandth time to buy him his usual morning coffee. A notification then popped up, which reads 'It's Proven: Food is The Way to A Woman's Heart' as the man spent about 20 minutes researching the topic.

He's already jotting down notes on foods that might be to your liking— reminding himself to buy the main ingredients later. He didn't even realise the intruder that is his blonde friend, irritation printed on his face to find him so concentrated.

Alhaitham looks so focused that even his friend think he was just doing his work but really, it's just him considering and studying the recipes recommended on some YouTube video as his brows scrunched. Questioning himself if he's even as skilled to cook most of the dishes...

taglist: @odevote118 @levisbebe @hitomi-inaru @no3hg3nshin @thetwinkims @tanspostsblog @kaoyamamegami @iamfakeu @starlightauralis @mmm-alhaitham @klementime @makimakimi @itonashi @crowbird @changgchangg25 @haengezoe @0r093hf74hf8460 @catjsjs @ezraiix @hakunonn @lady-makima @ninjakuko @fluidfandoms @ragnvdnr @chishiyawifesworld

author's note: my hc is that this man would probably unironically watch these type of videos or read those articles when he's still early in a relationship and didn't know what to do 😔 <3 a little filler before :DD yk

© @qiwoomi

est. 070323

do not copy, translate and repost my work.