#today has been relatively productive

[lemonhemlock]

tried watching the new queen charlotte series but was immediately put off by the ridiculous anti-corset propaganda, so get ready for another rant.

first of all, this is the georgian era so what she's wearing are called /stays/ - corsets are a victorian invention. why do we still not know this in 2023 when period productions have remained consistently popular throughout the years? the concept of tighlacing (the goal being a reduction of the waist) is also victorian and was not the norm at all and v much an extreme practice. this understanding of history is so superficial, it's as if an alien were to open up People magazine and conclude that all human women resort to butt injections and lip fillers to stay with the fashion of the times. also, no, you cannot tighlace in stays to obtain a waist reduction because they are shaped like a funnel (picture 1 = long stays, 2 = short regency stays, 3 = corset)

charlotte goes on to complain about how dangerous whalebone is and that it might kill her if she makes the wrong move. what the actual fuck? whalebone was actually the very best material to use for this because it was sturdy yet flexible and allowed the /stays/ to completely and comfortably mold around a woman's unique body shape. one of the reasons why today it is v difficult to replicate the same effect in corsetry is because we do not have access to whalebone (killing whales is not cool for obvious reasons) so corset-makers have to resort to other materials like plastic or metal, which CAN break. whereas whalebone doesn't really break as easily. furthermore, stays/corsets were NEVER worn on bare skin, but with a chemise/shift underneath.

why did women in the past resort to this type of undergarment, you ask? well, apart from the fact that women need bust support, the stays also serve the purpose of allowing all the many skirts and petticoats to be placed comfortably onto the waist. you try piling on that much fabric around your bare waist and see how you like it and if you can even carry it all around without it cutting into your stomach.

clothes throughout human history did cater to the popular fashions of the time, yes, but they also reflected the technological limitations and there was thus a practical aspect to it. this is a time before elastic bands, before industrialization and fast fashion, clothes are v difficult to make, everything is done by hand, so a lot of care is put into preserving them, because they are /expensive/ and labour intensive. you don't want your fancy outergarments to get ruined so you wear a lot of undergarments to absorb your bodily fluids since those are easier to make and don't have to look "pretty", can be stained and patchy etc. again, why do you need so many layers in the first place? because this is a time before comfortable heating, with poorly isolated and drafty houses, and it's bloody cold otherwise.

the third reason why that monologue was so dumb is because CHARLOTTE is the reason regency court dress was so preposterous. long story short, in a few decades, the fashionable silhouette changes wildly from the late 1700s to the 1810s.

the regency waistline was much higher and the gowns were much more flowy and unstructured than the late georgian ones (what's commonly known as the empire waistline). the long stays of the late 1700s were now replaced with short stays that really were similar to modern bras. the scene in the first season of bridgerton where they squeeze penelope's sister into what looks like a pair of long stays (?) is bonkers bc no one would wear a waist-constricting boned undergarment under a regency dress. why would they? the natural waist is not even emphasized in any way. this is just another reason to peddle the women-were-oppressed-by-their-lingerie agenda. so if charlotte really hated long stays that much, regency would really have been her time to shine, right? wrong. the woman loved the fashions of her youth so much she forced everyone who came to court to still comply to them, which is why we get the absolutely atrocious regency court dresses - essentially a combination of the georgian style with side panniers, but with an empire waistline.

yeah, this is how daphne SHOULD have looked like when she was presented at court in front of charlotte. i can understand why the showrunners decided to just leave her in a regency silhouette because this is ugly af. but, anyway, queen charlotte is the last person on earth to be complaining about how uncomfortable stays are.

creative licence aside, the reason this pisses me off is because it is SUCH lazy storytelling. the show wants us to know charlotte is a spunky pseudo-feminist character so the easiest way to do that is to have her complain about the evil 'corset' trying to kill her. it is so profoundly ahistorical and does nothing to contribute to the conversation about women's true problems and true limitations during that time. instead of genuinely exploring social history and women's actual lived experiences, we are STILL, in the year of our lord 2023, diverting the discourse towards fabricated issues that never existed in the first place.

the reasons actresses complain about boned underwear in interviews are manifold. costume designers are very overworked, they have to produce clothes for hundreds of people in a very short time, so they simply do not have the time or resources to construct corsets/stays that fit the actresses like they are supposed to. in the past, these garments were made individually for every person and completely to their own requirements. they also make these actresses wear the boning on BARE skin to look extra sexy to the audience or to emphasize their oppression - that never happened, a shift was always worn underneath (hello dakota fanning scene in the alienist??).

moreover, they lace them up until they constrict their ribcages - these women are already super thin and their bodies cannot support more reduction - instead of relying on the historical practices of padding and illusion. nowadays, body parts are what's fashionable - that's why so many resort to fat transfers or breast implants or starving themselves to achieve a flat stomach. in the past, anyone of any size could have accomplished the fashionable silhouette because they had a wide array of accouterments to plop underneath their garments - panniers, bustles, hoop skirts, padding of any sort. it didn't matter how big your waist was, you just padded other areas until you achieved the desired shape. fat women wore corsets/stays, too. working women, who did a lot of physical labour, did the same. how were they able to perform all of their tasks if they were incapable of moving or breathing? even today, people wear medical corsets all the time.

TLDR the media's obsession with portraying modern women as so liberated because they wear bras instead of "patriarchal" underwear is so tedious.

EDIT: Some very basic chronological tadpoles to make this easier to place within historical context. "Georgian" is used to denote the 18th+ century when Great Britain was ruled by several kings named George, so roughly 1714-1830. Within this interval, we refer to the Regency period as encompassing the regency of Prince George, future King George IV, when his father George III was incapacitated by mental illness. The official political regency took place during 1811-1820, but culturally speaking, this was extended to roughly the end of the 18th century up to maybe 1830 or 1837. This is the time period of Napoleonic wars and Jane Austen novels, so all her heroines should normally wear Regency styles. Think "empire waistline" as in Imperial France and Napoleon. The Victorian era (and its corsets) follows throughout the rest of the 19th century. Queen Charlotte was a contemporary of Marie Antoinette's, so they should be dressed in similar fashions (robe à la française vs robe à la anglais).

[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 (....😮‍💨)

<< prev. | series masterlist

"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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[kyunniebuns]

˗ˏˋ Jealous! Lovesick! Jinwoo x Fem! Reader ◛⑅·˚ ༘ ♡ ˎˊ˗

ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚𝕊𝕦𝕟𝕘 𝕁𝕚𝕟𝕨𝕠𝕠˚◦○˚ ୧ .˚ₓ

・┆✦ Entry : 042 ✦ ┆・

╰┈➤ ❝ [ You really wanna do this?] ¡! ❞

Hunting had always been a dangerous job, but in your eyes? it's better than an average 9-5 job. You were never really the type to be locked in a simple place. You loved getting into gates just because they inspire you for your next creative projects— Minus the fact hat you have to help transport heavy mana crystals.

Better than nothing, it pays a lot and you get to spoil yourself with things you could only dream of as a child.

As the day comes into a close, your boss hands you your pay for the day and sends you off.

With the heavy envelope in your hands, you cheer happily and rush home where you can shower and dress properly

Despite the fact you're a weak hunter, you still can't help but dress prettily. You were sweating like a pig earlier, and now that you're clean and fresh you're wearing a frilly dress and a cardigan over your shoulders.

After making sure you're looking okay, it's off to the outside world you go.

Your childhood teddy bear made a comeback and you decided you wanted to buy the new big size for it.

The streets of seoul were so alive and crowded, but thankfully the air was extremely refreshing.

When the store finally came into view, you immediately jumped in excitement and dashed inside to where the shelf of the teddy bear was.

The yellow bear was given bigger sizes, and the one you picked is almost as big as your upper torso.

Are you complaining? No of course not! The reason why you worked so hard today is because you wanted this bear specifically.

After fangirling for a bit, you clear your throat and make your way to the cashier where the lady smiles at you politely and scanned the code.

Before you can even reach for your wallet to pay— A hand behind you shot up and offered the cashier a black card.

"I'll pay for the bear," The familiar, handsome voice says. "Please."

"Jinwoo!" You squeak, turning your head to see Jinwoo's familiar face who just threw you a charming smile.

"I told you that if you wanted something, just text me." Jinwoo says, ignoring the cashier who was clearly trembling and out of her wits as Jinwoo tapped his card on the scanner. "Is that so hard to obey, hm?"

"...How did you even find me" You pout.

"You wont shut up about the doll last night and I just so happen to know there's a plushie store nearby your apartment." Jinwoo ruffles your head, just as he always did ever since you two were little. "Come on, quit being a pouty little thing and walk with me"

Jinwoo takes your heavy plushie in his arm, taking your wrist with the other and guided you out of the store.

"H-hey, where are we even going?" You whine, but ultimately just gave in and followed behind Jinwoo.

The two of you walked for a while and eventually reached a relatively peaceful park.

Jinwoo starts chatting you up, asking about your day and how work went. And in turn, he told you about how boring his day is.

Yeah, must be nice to be a powerful hunter now, huh? Everything is relatively nboring for Jinwoo now because it's just so easy now.

"Stay here, I'll get us something to drink." Jinwoo says, handing the plushie to you.

⋅ ˚ ₊ ‧ ଳ ‧ ₊ ˚ ⋅ ⋆ ౨ৎ ˚ ⟡ ˖ ࣪

Jinwoo went to a nearby cornerstore, slightly humming to himself as he starts picking up a few snacks and drinks.

His mind was stuck on you, he is supposed to be doing something productive for today. But after Jinho heard that he was craving to visit you, the boy's face beamed immediately and pushed Jinwoo out of the ahjin guild— Practically kicking out of the building he owns himself and be off.

What was going on in Jinho's head at the time? He can never really know.

But he is thankful anyway, he had always been quite fond of you. Jinwoo has long since had a crush on you, but never once tried to court you. You two grew up together after all.

You probably think of him as your older brother figure.

While him?

Oh Darling,...

When he's with you, the grey skies would turn blue and brilliant. The air would feel even more fresh and lovely. Everything around you would suddenly be seen through rose-colored lenses.

Just as long as you were there, everything was beautiful.

He wanted to give you the world, he wanted to protect you, only him.

You were Jinwoo's salvation.

So long as you are there for him, he'll always come out as the strongest.

Everything is much bearable as long as he knows he would come back to earth greeted by your lovely smile and affections.

Jinwoo wanted nothing more than to protect your precious smile, make sure that tears won't ever threaten to touch that lovely and pretty smile of yours.

What is it that you want? Just tell him and it shall be yours.

Why would you be denied of your own happiness anyway? As long as he is there, you'll never be unhappy. You wont ever be sad.

He will make sure of that.

"..."

Jinwoo pauses in his tracks towards you, his grey eyes turning lilac immediately as he sees you chatting up another man.

He saw that person before in the eyes of his soldiers whom he placed in you. He was one of your colleagues who is acting a little too close with you sometimes.

That bastard is always hovering around you and was icking Jinwoo as of late.

And to dare even appear now when he is having his alone time with you?

Jinwoo's gaze hardened even more when the bastard tried reaching his hand up towards your face.

"Hey," Jinwoo's voice interrupts, immediately startling both you and the man into stopping what he was doing.

He fakes a polite smile, approaching with confident strides, "Ah, a coworker?"

"Mhm, he was passing by and decdied to greet me!" You cheer happily, failing to notice the ever slightly flicker of lilac in Jinwoo's grey eyes.

"Is that so?" Jinwoo hums, giving you the snacks and drink he bought you before reaching his hand up to offer it to the man. "I'm Jinwoo, her friend."

"J-Jinwoo?" The man paled as he shakily accepted his offerm and winced lightly when he felt Jinwoo's tight grip. "U-uhm..."

It was only a small squeeze, really, not enough to break his finger. No, not just yet.

Jinwoo's grey eyes would flicker into a different color, not that you can see so he isn't too worried. He was directly gazing at the man, his stare direct and straightforward.

It was a silent statement to back off.

A silent exchange between men, really.

That should be enough, right?

Jinwoo lets go of his hand and the bastard excuses himself, saying he needs to help his mom back home.

"You were smiling at him," Jinwoo says once the person was far away, his grey eyes coming back as it gazes upon your shorter stature beside him.

"Should I be grumpy then?"

"Pfft," He rolls his eyes, tapping on your nose lightly. "And what if I wanted you to?"

"Hahah, knock it off!" You lightly smack his hand away, making Jinwoo just shake his head in return.

⋅ ˚ ₊ ‧ ଳ ‧ ₊ ˚ ⋅ ⋆ ౨ৎ ˚ ⟡ ˖ ࣪

Jinwoo thought he already warned the bastard enough, wasn't that handshake enough?

he was just checking in on you really, when his shadows picked up the distant conversation of your coworkers saying that the same man should just start making a move on you.

He hasn't been hiding that foolish lovestruck look on his face after all.

Why waste any more time.

"Hahah..." The bastard sheepishly chuckles, scratching his cheek. "I'll ask her out in a bit"

A pit in Jinwoo's stomach dropped, and it wasn't a pleasant one. He was never the jealous type of person anymore after all. After becoming the shadow monarch and getting whatever he desired back then, he stopped yearning for unnecessary thing in exception for you whom he has been pining for forever.

Unlike his little jealousy back then, right now it's as blazing as the fires of hell. He was mad.

It's an unpleasant thing he is feeling.

That man? Really?

What can he do for you?

Fuck around and all?

He doesn't even look like he is willing to move mountains for you.

And if a monster suddenly appears what then? Will that vastard throw himself head first to guarantee your safety?

Can he ever even spoil you?

Will he stay loyal and never break your heart?

Will he never dare to look at another woman once he's yours?

Will he ever make sure you never cry?

It's making Jinwoo's head spin.

And before the bastard can even get your attention— He disappeared.

"..." Jinwoo's eyes would turn purple again, tapping his finger on his throne's arm as the man appeared before he completely startled.

"Wasn't my warning enough?"

"Hunter Sung?" The man trembles, collpasing on the floor as Jinwoo suddenly rose from his seating and approached. "Wait! I-I can explain!!"

"Explain what?" He snarled, his gaze completely cold and ruthless. "That you just attempted to make a move on my girl behind my back? I already shook your hand, wasn't that enough?"

"Please!" He begs, completely scared and about to piss himslef as Jinwoo wrapped his hand around his neck and lifted him up. "Hunter Sung, please!"

"I could kill you right now," Jinwoo tilts his head a bit, his blank look completely deranged. "Or maybe lock you up here in the land of eternal death, torture you, break your your mind, tear you limb by limb and put you back together,... Do you think I can't do any of this?"

"I-I'll stay away!" He cries out, "I-I have a family, my mom!..."

Jinwoo drops him, wiping his hand with a handkerchief as the bastard gasps for air.

"I-I wont touch her! N-no, I'll resign and find another job!" He begs. "Please, please don—"

"No need." Jinwoo scoffs. "Getting jobs these days is hard. If your mom needs you then keep the job,"

"But!—"

"Do you want me to change my mind?"

"No sir!"

Jinwoo gritted his teeth, if it weren;t for the fact this guy had his mom he would have kept him here. Instead, he just waved his hand and the bastard disappeared right before him.

He pace back and forth on the throne room for a while, taking a breather, trying to calm down. Nibbling on his nail even as he just felt so restless and pissed with no way of calming down.

Calming down?

Jinwoo fishes out his phone, it's 6:30 and you probably have clocked out by now.

He gets out of his domain and waited for you in the usual spot he wait in when you finish your shift.

"Jinwoo!" The sound of your voice echoes in his mind when you called out to him. "How come you're here?"

"I was bored" He lies, simply grinning. "Come."

"But I'm sweaty and icky!" You complain.

"Just for a bit, yeah?" He insists, and you in turn only pout.

"Alright, what is it?" You cross your arms.

"Free tomorrow?" He simply says.

"Well, yeah, I don't have a shift" You say. "how come?"

"I'm asking you out, duh" Jinwoo chuckles.

There was silence at first as you tried processing his words.

"Are you serious?" You blurt out, your face turning completely pink.

"Have I ever lied to you, hm?" He muses, leaning down to meet you at eye level.

"N-No, but... I mean..." You fidget, playing with your fingers. "You're an S-ranker.. And I'm... Well."

"I'm Jinwoo, jagiya" He simply says, making you look up at him.

And in those grey eyes is a tender and loving gaze, in those eyes you see that he is silently asking you to not look at him as the most sought after hunter. Not the most powerful man ever to live, not the man who turned his situation from helpless to this, not the man who was always mocked and now basks in the spotlight of fame and wealth— He was asking you to see him as a man who is courting you.

"Yes, you're..." You smile softly and leaned up with your tippy-toes, kissing his cheek gently. "My Jinwoo."

꒰ 🪼 A/N: When I tell you Ilove my monarch so much you don't understand. Jagiya can mean either= Honey or Baby heheh. I love him so much pls I wanna cri. Let me kiss him silly. And btw I'm no longer making the moodboard things because they're tiring and I don't wanna run out of photos to use! I hope u understand ueueueu!!! The Jinwoo cai requests will be up tomorrow that is a promise ꒱

ʚ(੭´͈ ᐜ `͈)੭ .｡✧･ﾟ: ~♡ — All stories written by kyunnie; translations, reposts, plagiarism are strictly forbidden.

[tempfrangit]

very self-indulgent thoughts today about 141 x reader who isn’t just white, who like your hair (because my dumbass gave myself a chemical haircut with bleaching). something all other partners have if not disliked, been annoyed by the amount of hair care you devoted your time to.

gaz has female relatives, he knows not to just touch your hair or interrupt your schedule for it, but he loves to watch you, perched on the edge of your tub. he’ll help you do your hair if you ask, but sometimes just the closeness of watching you is all he needs. he’ll happily let you help him take care of his hair, even.

johnny does not have an once of control — johnny touches your hair all the fucking time and sometimes you have to swat his hands away. he can’t help it, he just loves the way it feels between his fingers and the way he can smell your conditioner, the soft edges of your scent. he has the most dexterous fingers, though, practically begs to help you because he knows he can help. just let him help, hen. (but if you give him an inch, he'll take a mile and you will never have a moment of peace.)

simon takes it as an honor that you let him sit with you, it took a while for that possibility to pop up and he's not losing out on more time with you. he’ll braid your hair for you, he’s around to help you if you need it. when you’re sleeping, he’ll twine his fingers in your hair — but has 5000% gotten a strand stuck in an unknown split nail, and yanked it, and woken you up. man learned to file the edges of his nail very quickly.

price keeps everything in stock for you. low on a product? no you’re not, he restocked when he went to the shop for lighter fluid. he’ll help you make a whole evening of doing your hair, a nice relaxing time. he only touches your hair when you tell him it’s okay unless you’ve already okayed it for a night because he respects you.

there’s more that could be said but my brain is mush

[literaryvein-reblogs]

A Writing Refresher: Basic Grammatical Terms

Adjective: A word which qualifies or modifies the meaning of a noun; as in a 'red hat' or a 'quick fox'. They can be used to complement the verbs 'to be' or 'to seem' ('Sue seems happy today'). Adjectives are sometimes formed from nouns or verbs by the addition of a suffix such as '-able' (lovable), '-ful' (heedful), '-ic' (heroic), '-ish' (foolish), '-ive' (combative), '-ous' (famous), or '-y' (needy).

Adverb: A word which qualifies or adds to the action of a verb: as in 'he ran quickly', or 'he ran fast'. Adverbs can also qualify adjectives, as in 'the grass is intensely green'. They are usually formed by adding '-ly' to an adjective: 'playfully', 'combatively', 'foolishly'. They can also sometimes be formed by the addition of '-wise' to a noun ('the hands went round clockwise).

Clause: The word is often used but very hard to define. It is a sentence or sentence-like construction included within another sentence. A main clause might be a simple noun plus verb ('I did it'). A co-ordinate clause is of equal status with the main clause: 'I did it and she did it at the same time.' A subordinate clause might be nested within a sentence using the conjunction 'that': 'he said that the world was flat.' Here 'he said' is the main clause and the subordinate clause is 'the world was flat'. Relative clauses are usually introduced by a relative pronoun: 'I read the book which was falling to pieces'; 'She spoke to the man who was standing at the bar.'

Conjunction: A word used to connect words or constructions. Co-ordinating conjunctions such as 'and', and 'but' link together elements of equal importance in a sentence ('Fish and chips' are of equal importance). Subordinating conjunctions such as 'because', 'if', 'although', connect a subordinate clause to its superordinate clause ('We will do it if you insist'; 'We did it because he insisted).

Noun: A word used as the name or designation of a person or thing, such as 'duck' or 'river'. Abstract nouns denote abstract properties, such as 'invisibility', 'gentleness'. Proper nouns are nouns that designate one thing, as, for example, personal names.

Object: Usually the thing to which the action of a verb is done. More technically a substantive word, phrase, or clause, immediately dependent on, or ‘governed by’, a verb, as expressing, in the case of a verb of action, the person or thing to which the action is directed, or on which it is exerted; that which receives the action of the verb. So 'the man patted the dog', 'the woman was reading the book'. An indirect object of a verb denotes that which is indirectly affected by an action, but wihch is not the immediate product of it, as ‘Give him the book’, ‘Make me a coat’.

Participle: a word derived from a verb which functions like an adjective, as in 'let sleeping dogs lie'. More technically 'A word that partakes of the nature of a verb and an adjective; a derivative of a verb which has the function and construction of an adjective (qualifying a noun), while retaining some of those of the verb'. Present participles usually end in '-ing' and usually describe an action which is going on at the same time as the verb: so in the sentence '"Go and play on your own street," she said, kicking the ball', the saying and the kicking are simultaneous. Past participles usually end in '-ed' or '-en' ('the door was kicked in'; 'the door was broken'). They are used in two main ways: combined with the verb 'have' they form a past or 'perfect' tense (so called because it describes an action which has been completed or 'perfected'), as in 'I have smashed the plate'. Past participles can also be used in passive constructions (which describe what was done to something rather than what something did), as in 'the plate was smashed'.

Preposition: A part of speech which indicates a connection, between two other parts of speech, such as 'to', 'with', 'by' or 'from'. 'She came from China', 'He gave the chocolates to me'.

Pronoun: A part of speech which stands for a noun: 'he', 'she', 'him', 'her', 'them'. Possessive pronouns express ownership ('his', 'hers'). Reflexive pronouns are 'herself', 'himself', 'myself' and are used either for emphasis (he did it all himself'), or when an action reflects back on the agent who performs it ('he shot himself in the foot'). Relative pronouns include 'who', 'which', 'that' and are usually used in the form 'he rebuked the reader who had sung in the library'. Interrogative pronouns ask questions ('Who stole the pie?'; 'Which pie?'). Indefinite pronouns do not specify a particular person or thing: 'Anyone who studies grammar must be mad.' 'Somebody has to know about this stuff.'

Sentence: This is a term which professional linguists still find impossible to define adequately. It is usually supposed to be 'A sequence of words which makes complete sense, containing subject, object and main verb, and concluded by a full-stop'.

Subject: Usually the person or thing who is performing the action of a verb. More technically the grammatical subject is the part of a sentence of which an action is predicated: 'the man patted the dog'. It can be a single noun, or it can been a complex clause: 'the bald man who had just picked up the ball gave it to the dog.'

Syntax (Greek 'together arrangement'): a term designating the way in which words can be arranged and modified to construct sentences. Writers characteristically use syntactic sub-ordination when they aim for a highly formal effect, and syntactic co-ordination when they aim for a simpler, more straight-forward effect.

Verb: Usually a word which describes an action (such as 'he reads poems', 'she excels at cricket'). More technically 'That part of speech by which an assertion is made, or which serves to connect a subject with a predicate.' This technical definition includes the most frequent verb in the language: the verb 'to be' which can be used to connect a 'subject', such as 'he', with a 'predicate', such as 'good at hockey'. There are verbs which take an object ('he raps the desk'), which are called transitive verbs. Other verbs do not, and are termed intransitive verbs ('I sit, he lives'). Some verbs can be used either transitively or intransitively: 'I sing' is an intransitive usage; 'Paul McCartney sings "God save the Queen"' is a transitive usage. The main verb is the verb on which the structure of the sentence depends, and without which the sentence would not make any sense. In the following sentence the verb 'fell' is the main verb: 'The boy, who had run too quickly, fell'.

[foone]

You know what I hate about modern mice? how pointlessly anti-repair they are. I have had plenty of mice break over time, and often it's just that some fluff or skin-flakes got wedged in the mouse wheel or under the buttons. You just need to open them up and clean them. Except.. where are the screws?

OH THERE THEY ARE. under the little skid-pads, which cannot be put back on once you take them off, because the adhesive has been ruined! You have to buy replacement pads, if they're available, and maybe cut them down to size, as well as clean off the residue of the previous pads.

You know how this problem could be fixed? JUST DON'T PUT THE PADS ON TOP OF THE SCREWS!

Then you'd have no problem. Easy to disassemble and clean.

But then it'd look 5% uglier because apparently people are scared of seeing screws, and also people might not just throw it out and buy a new one!

It's the terrible sort of weird planned obsolescence that happens as an almost accidental side effect of improving the product. Like, ball mice? They were designed to be disassembled. You didn't even need a screwdriver! Because you had to clean them regularly, or they'd gunk up too fast. Modern optical mice? They still get gunked up, the buttons and wheel still die eventually. They can be cleaned and repaired. But now that it's not required for all of them to be cleaned regularly, that function has been removed. they're designed to be disposable.

The same thing happened with TVs way back when. If you open up a TV from the 50s (or just look at the back, honestly, many of them were designed to be always-open), you'll find a schematic showing where all the tubes are and what models they are. Was this because the 1950s was a golden era of reparability? NO! it's because they burnt out all the time and you had to replace them! As soon as TVs got reliable enough that replacing tubes was no longer needed, the schematics became hidden behind paywalls and for authorized-service-personnel-only.

It would be only a minor change in aesthetics to make your mouse repairable/cleanable. Hell, most of the time when it's not simply fixed by cleaning it, it's because one of these broke:

This is an Omron D2FC-F-7N microswitch, used in a bunch of mice. It's designed to last about a million clicks. With a soldering iron and some solder (like 25$ on amazon) you can trivially replace it. New switches cost between like 10 cents and 2 dollars, depending where you buy it and how many you want. A couple bucks of parts and half an hour's worth of work, you can repair a 40$ mouse that's "died".

But they make it unnecessarily hard with the slide-pads being unreplacable. You have to find ones that match, you have to carefully clean off the old residue with IPA, or the new ones you just bought will fall off. All to make it look SLIGHTLY better (how often are you looking at the aesthetics of the bottom of your mouse, exactly? (no furries are allowed to answer this question!)) and maybe, just maybe, to push it over into "not worth it". You could do all that, but you have to buy new switches, new slide-pads/mouse-feet (SHUT UP FURRIES), and can you remember where your solder even is? you last used it when you were trying to fix that keyboard...

Basically one thing that is maddening to anyone with the very basics of electronic knowledge (seriously: the amount of skill you need for this is the kind you can get in less than an hour from watching a youtube tutorial) that we're surrounded by all this electrical nonsense that will break and have to be thrown out, but is mostly breaking in ways that could be fixed in a very short amount of time with relatively little work.

It's infuriating to go on amazon to buy another damn mouse and it pop up "hey you last bought this in 2021, you fool" and you're like I KNOW, IT SHOULD STILL BE WORKING TODAY!

I have computer parts from the 80s in my room right now that are still working when stuff made in the last 5 years is already dying! There's no reason it should be this way. It's an endless waste of time and money and resources and it's just to make some logitech or whoever executives slightly richer.

It's deeply bullshit. The modern day is going to be identifiable as the geological layer where most of the trash was generated. We're living in the middle of the quisquiliarumferous period: the layer of garbage.

[charliemwrites]

Part 4 of Nikto’s commandments

Content: Sexual Desire, Dissociation, Depersonalization, Codependency, Acts of Service, Masturbation

You moan his name sometimes in your sleep.

Usually just before you wake up, panting and overheated, shooting wide-eyed glances his way. Lying to you would be a sin beyond redemption so he always lets you know that he’s awake. You often apologize, sometimes you assure him you’re alright. It takes him a while to identify the look in your eyes those nights — he was unfamiliar with it even before: guilt.

You feel guilty.

Puzzling out the why of that takes longer still. You’re a mystery to him, ineffable. The way god is supposed to be. Unlike the Christian one, you almost always have a purpose behind what you do, and you’ll answer Nikto whenever he dares to ask. (He’s not going to ask about this.)

He first thought that you were calling for his help in dreamt pain. That your blown out pupils, trembling hands, and flushed face were products of fear and imagined torture.

But then you started to lean into his neck in your sleep, making soft, high noises. Would press your ass into the cradle of his hips, grind against his thigh. Alien as his body is to him now, he can recognize emotion in others. Lust, desire.

Coming to terms that you feel these things for him has been another challenge altogether. (But you are a loving god, a compassionate keeper. The sweetness and mercy and nobility found in the viscera of his world. If there is anything of him worth wanting, you would find it.) If you are attracted to this… vessel he inhabits, who is he to question you?

The guilt, though. That he is still puzzling out.

If anyone should feel guilt, it is him (though he doesn’t, isn’t even sure if he can). Now that you’ve made him more aware of his body, of his desires, there’s a constant buzz of arousal in his blood. For you. He craves you constantly. Your touch, your voice, your scent in his nose. He could suffocate on you.

It’s selfish, it’s sinful. To desire anything of you when you have given him everything and asked for nothing in return. Not even his loyalty, freely given. It is why he could not say yes when you offered to slake his desire; it would have been akin to blasphemy.

Unless.

Unless you have asked something of him.

“Whoa!” A giggle as you tilt your head back to him, amused and curious. “What was that for?”

He feels wooden as he glances down at you. His arm is around your waist, nearly crushing you to him. Hadn’t even realized he moved. You don’t seem to mind, palms light on his forearm. Still looking to him.

He does not answer. Can’t find the words past the panic clawing at his throat. Lets you go slowly, finger by finger. You don’t step away once free.

You say something else. Something about rain maybe? He’s too busy staring at the deft hands you cup around your mouth.

How soft and gentle they are on his skin, skipping over the worst scars. The first thing you always do is touch him. When he’s out of a shower, just changed, climbing into bed, waking up. You reach for him, as if you can’t bear to be parted with the same intensity he feels.

Do you crave to touch him in other ways? Has he denied you, unwitting as it may have been?

It would be one thing to ask anything of you, especially for his own sake. But to give you something… even if it’s such an unworthy offering as himself…

“Nikto?”

His eyes flick down to yours. You smile at him, point at your own temple.

“Busy up there today, huh?” It’s not even a tease, but he feels as if he’s made another misstep.

“Sorry.”

You shake your head, bump your shoulder into his arm. “I’m just checking that you’re alright.”

“Alright” being relative. He objectively understands that he is broken and damaged. That he does not operate at full capacity all — or even most — of the time.

But with your help he’s established a baseline, a “normal.” Something to measure his body, and more importantly his damaged mind by.

“I am… alright,” he decides finally. “Just thinking.”

“Okay,” you answer, easy as that. “If you want to talk, I’ll listen — but you don’t have to.”

You don’t have to is your favorite thing to say to him. He would laugh if he remembered how.

He grunts an affirmative and follows you to wherever you’re headed next.

—

That night, your ankle is hurting. Nothing serious, you assure Nikto. Just rolled it a bit. You promise it just needs rest, low level painkillers, and a bit of elevation.

Nikto is unpracticed at care. For all he practically lives in your pocket, medical care is unusual for you. He spends so much time keeping you safe, protected, alive and unharmed. He has little direction when it comes to your discomfort.

Luckily, you provide direction in spades.

“Two pills from the bottle with the red cap and a glass of water please.”

His cock twitches hard. Fills out almost dizzyingly fast in the confines of his tac pants.

He fetches both for you, holding each in turn as you pluck the pills from his hand and sip the water. You sigh gratefully and tell him to set the glass on the nightstand. Another bolt of pleasure to obey, while you like droplets from your bottom lip.

“Can you grab my computer and the charger? I want to watch something before bed.”

He brings them, stands waiting while you fiddle with it. Waiting for another request. He’s achingly hard now. Throbbing in his underwear.

“Oh! Hairbrush too, please?”

When he hands it to you this time, hand almost to the point of shaking, you give him a sheepish smile.

“I’m sorry, I keep making you run around.”

“Don’t be.” His voice is gruff, but it so often is that you don’t seem to find anything amiss. “More?”

“Ah… well, if it’s not too much trouble, could you grab the extra blanket? It’s cold tonight.”

He tries to pace himself. To balance the pleasure of obeying against the speed of completing the task. You hum in delight as he drapes it over you — a fluffy monstrosity of a thing. Utterly decadent, he’d never even entertain the idea of having one. But you deserve a dozen of them if you wanted them. He’d retrieve them now for you if only you asked.

(He wishes you would ask.)

He is harder than he ever remembers being. (Granted, there are many gaps in his memory, even now. But there is enough there to know this is true.)

“Okay that should be the last thing for a bit.” You’re looking away and don’t see the minute deflation of his shoulders. He’s nearly panting. “Come snuggle in?”

“In a moment,” he says, surprising himself. You seem a bit (pleasantly) surprised too. He’s never denied you anything for even a moment. But if he sits next to you now…

“Ah, gotcha,” you say when he turns for the bathroom.

You start playing whatever tv show you have queued up to offer him privacy. He closes the door after himself and for the first time since regaining his freedom, takes himself in hand.

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Masterlist

[flanaganfilm]

howdy!! do you rewatch your own work? if so, how often? im wondering if it has the same "artist just sees faults with what they create" thing, or if youre able to appreciate past projects the way they deserve

I don't, typically... usually, by the time we're finished with post production, I've seen the thing so many times that I'm thrilled to stop watching it. I'm either sick of it, or just feeling like it doesn't belong to me anymore. There are other reasons, too - Hill House was a traumatic production for me, for example, I have a lot of complicated emotions woven into it, so I haven't felt ready to rewatch that one since before it aired. Maybe in a few more years.

Somewhat recently, I've revisited a few of the older movies with my eldest son, who is 13 now. He's basically as old as my career itself. We've watched Oculus, Hush, The Midnight Club (which he LOVED, proving it worked for our target audience) and Ouija: OOE together, and each of those screenings was a really cool experience. His reactions and questions were really fascinating, and I felt like I was able to see those movies anew through his eyes. That's the closest I've come to feeling like I was really seeing them, and that's only because so much time has gone by for those. I watched the Director's Cut of Doctor Sleep a few years back at the Stanley Hotel in Estes Park Colorado. It was part of a live NoSleep Podcast event, and that was the first time I'd seen that movie since it was released. It was also the first and only time I'd ever seen the Director's Cut with an audience. That was a really special screening and it meant a lot to me.

I haven't yet had the guts to revisit any of the TV series other than Midnight Club. As my kids get older, I'm sure I'll watch them all with them. The one I'm most excited to see is Midnight Mass, which remains my favorite of the shows. I haven't seen it since before it came out - I remember the last day of post on that show, watching down each episode with final mix and color. That's a series I wish I could actually watch like a viewer at home, and while I'll never truly be able to do that, I look forward to looking at it with some real distance.

There are a few of the older projects I'd be curious to watch now. I wonder how Absentia holds up - I was such a baby when we made that movie, and it's been so long. I imagine I could watch that today and have a really trippy experience. I also haven't revisited Before I Wake in a very long time, and I always really loved that script. The movie was a rough road, and my feelings were mixed by the time it finally found its finish line (Relativity Media really beat that one up), but that could also be a really interesting viewing experience at this stage of my career.

But generally, each of these movies is a journey, and once the journey is over it's tough to ever really go back. There's little point, and moving forward feels like a matter of survival. The "finished product" is only the tip of a large, deep, labyrinthian iceberg for me. It's impossible to only see what's on the surface, no matter how hard I try.

(Interesting side-note: The only exception I've found to this rule is The Life of Chuck. We just finished post production on the movie, and I've watched it dozens and dozens of times now - but I've never grown tired of it, not even a little bit. That movie is something special, and I am eager to watch it again - and again - and again. I don't know that I'll ever want distance from that one; in fact, watching it brings me a sense of joy, comfort, and safety.)

[jamiepaige]

Constant Companions Closeup #9: OBJECT OF AFFECTION

(also on spotify!)

O, wayward soul, I beg of thee an ear; Companionship, a Constant of desire, is all too fleeting. Would thee quell this fire? My love, do you know what you want to hear?

Welcome back to the Constant Companions Closeups - a series of in-depth dives into the songs off of my latest album, Constant Companions! Yesterday was some gay shit (Liaison) and today is some more gay shit (Object of Affection)

---

I'm usually pretty good about letting go of the things I make and letting them live imperfectly, but there is exactly one released song of mine that I've ever been actively unhappy with the final product of, that I haven't been able to let go of my displeasure with.

Honor Majesty, off of Autumn Every Day.

It's not that it's a bad song, or that it didn't have good ideas! In fact, I genuinely think it shares more with the music I make now than a lot of my older work does. Rather, it was incredibly rushed and full of uninspired choices I made for the sake of completing the song rather than making it the best version of itself, and it ultimately ended up falling incredibly flat relative to what I wanted it to be!

I really like the intersection of synthpop/electropop and fantasy. One of my favorite musicians ever is Baths, whose album Romaplasm is chock full of this exact thematic and sonic intersection, and it's so deeply inspiring to me that it still gets put on whenever I want to dream things up. I've always wanted to make things like that! Bubbly and fantastical, brimming with a sense of magic so pervasive it makes even the mundane seem mystic.

...Also I'm just a fantasy dork okay. I like wizards and shit. Sue me

I've been wanting to make a grandiose and fantastical story song for years, and my single attempt to do so felt like it missed the mark entirely. I did touch on fantasy a couple times on Bittersweet, but ultimately, when I started working on this album, I knew exactly what I wanted to take a second crack at.

---

The intended story in question here is fairly vague, but to sum it up as literally as possible:

A rebellious, disobedient, gender-questioning prince has mildly inconvenienced "his" royal lineage one too many times. Their solution is to invoke magicks widely regarded as heretical - what's a fantasy monarchy without some hypocrisy - to seal their "son's" soul within an automaton body, rendering "him" a perfect, subservient doll.

This doll is promptly spirited away under cover of darkness by a mage, and is granted free will once again. She experiences the crushing weight of newfound self-awareness and nearly spirals out of control, before realizing the mage who saved her is the same - a doll. It turns out being a magical-mechanical construct has its perks if you are TRANSGENDER. then they overthrow the monarchy and fuck nasty or whatever idk this is where the story gives way to things like "metaphor"

this is a song about artifice and being transgender

Seriously, though, I know that being an electronic-music-producing transgender lesbian with a thing about dolls or robots or whatever is a major endless-store-shelves-of-identical-buzz-lightyear-action-figures moment on my part, but dammit, I own a copy of Logic Pro and a genuine leather wizard hat, I inject estrogen into my stomach fat every Wednesday, and I think ball joints are cute. I'm posting this on Tumblr, for gods sake, I am unconcerned as an active choice

---

With the exception of Liaison, the entirety of Constant Companions utilizes only three unique vocal synth characters - ANRI, Gumi, and Teto. This trifecta was born organically from simply being the vocal synths I enjoy using the most, and in this song, I wanted to use all three of them almost like one single singer, freely shifting intonation based on the context. I messed with this idea before on Ballroom, my voice meshing and melting into Gumi V3's voice, but it felt especially appropriate for this context; Plus, I feel like there aren't a lot of examples of vocal synths being used/recontextualized in this way, and that's a shame in my opinion!!

I really want to do more story-driven songwriting like this in the future as well. Now that I'm a bonafide VocaloP I've been floating the idea of doing a song series with this trio... I'm mostly just worried I'll want to get too ambitious with it.

Off the top of my head, Object of Affection references at least eight other songs of mine - Honor Majesty is an obvious one, but it also directly samples parts of Autumn Every Day, and lyrically references genuinely just a bunch of things. I'm probably forgetting some, even!

I know I'm the Leitmotif Lover, but it's a lot even by my standards. However, this song's entire existence already served to satisfy a fairly self-indulgent desire, and these days, I don't deal in half measures. I think the final product serves as a lovely little look back at where I've come from, though, and perhaps even a little glimpse into the future!

That all being said, Object of Affection in some sense is also a love letter to a beloved part of my creative process - the voice memo. A lot of the audio I've provided with these posts have been recordings off my phone for good reason! Not only are the chops at the beginning of the song entirely comprised of edited recordings I got on my phone, but the sample at the very end happens to be from a particularly legendary recording, never before heard by the public...

Until now. I present to you an excerpt from "the worst beat on planet earth", featuring none other than unit.0.

That's about it for today!! If you have any questions, I'll gladly answer them below, but otherwise, I'll be back here tomorrow to talk about this album's title track laid askew - My Darling, My Companion!

[octuscle]

Browth Spurt

Martin, Michael and Christian were interns at promaxx, one of the fastest growing venture capitalists. promaxx specialized in biotech, and the board's dream was to find the first unicorn capable of bionically optimizing humans.

"If they were able to do that, they hadn't done a good job on themselves," Martin whispered to Michael. He had to stifle a laugh. There were indeed a couple of rather ridiculous-looking nerds in the "growth spurt" presentation. They were talking about a combination of pills and autogenic training, which was supposed to unleash undreamt-of powers in men. There was actually a pile of CDs and a few packets of pills on the table in front of them. Images of men screaming "Alpha" from every pore flickered across the projector.

The promaxx product manager had either heard Martin or read his mind. In any case, he asked why the young men didn't look like the ones whose images had just been projected onto the wall. One of the start-up nerds, who weighed a maximum of 70 kilograms at around 200 cm tall, began to stammer that they weren't quite sure yet what the side effects on the psyche would be and that their minds were, after all, the company's greatest asset. Christian, who has always been a bit cheeky, laughed and said that this might not be a good starting point for entering the market. The product manager gave him a high five and added that he was not interested in hearing more, he was sure that everyone present could do better with their time, the meeting was over.

The start-up entrepreneurs from "growth spurt" stood there with their mouths open. They had expected everything, but not such an early termination. The product manager left the room without saying goodbye. Martin and Christian followed in his footsteps. Only Michael stayed for a moment, tried some comforting small talk and then left. The nerds packed up their things in disappointment and left the meeting room.

"Why were you still talking to the losers? "Christian asked Michael. Christian opened his jacket and took out a pack of tablets and three CDs. "That's why," he said with a grin. "We'll see what this stuff is worth now. And if it can become a unicorn, we can say we've discovered it."

That evening, the three boys lay in their beds. The tablets with a glass of water on the bedside table. The CD inserted in a player. They had all had to search a little to find something that could play this ancient media. The three of them chatted on their chatroom.

Michael: Have you already Martin: Nope Christian: Nope Michael: I've put the CD in, but I can't hear a thing. Christian: Same here. Martin: I've swallowed the pill! Michael: Okay, me too now Christian All for one, one for all! …

Christian fell into a deep sleep relatively quickly. His boner built an impressive tent in his bed. At some point during the night, he had a wet dream and blew an incredible load. And then once again. And then once more. And then he woke up.

Christian: Shit, are you awake? Christian: Shit, shit, shit! Michael: Bro, it's 05:00. A bit early for the gym. Martin: You say, weakling! I've been up for half an hour doing push-ups and squats.

Christian sits up. He burped. Must be from the pills. Like the puddle he had slept in. And that body that had torn his pyjamas to shreds. Martin sent a photo of a monstrous bicep with the comment "Then I'll see how I can get it to burn." Something was different. But Christian didn't know what…

Christian: Bros, I must have overdone it a bit, I don't fit into my clothes anymore. Michael: Same here, bros, had to train naked. Shit, my cock rubs against the floor during the push-ups and doesn't get limp at all. Martin: I was just at my brother's. His clothes fit me reasonably well. I'll pick you up and bring you something.

Christian went into the shower. His three-day beard went perfectly with his dark complexion. No need to shave today. His parents were still closing up when Michael and Martin pulled up outside the house. Christian opened the door, naked as God had made him. "You're a fucking statue, bro," Martin said as he handed him a pile of clothes. Christian posed. The light from the hall lamp cast his shadow on the early morning street. The milkman gawked. And almost had an accident.

"So, bro! We think you should think again about the nerds from yesterday," Michael said to the promaxx product manager. He just looked at them. He didn't notice any change. The three junior managers looked impressive as always. The fact that they called him "bro" flattered him. "Sorry, big boys, but the rejection is already out."

Christian looked at his bros and asked, "Do you think what I think?" "Shit, when I see you, I always think the same thing, stud!" said Martin. He obviously wasn't wearing any underpants. And he was leaking plenty of precum. "Michael grabbed his crotch and said "Let's fuck the guys from "growth spurt". Christian grinned. "At least there's one here who hasn't fucked his brains out or swapped them for brawn."

The three of them had quite a problem getting into the Uber. The driver said that with three guys that big, he would definitely need a gas surcharge for being overweight. The three boys laughed uproariously as if it was a good joke. They liked it when people admired them. And they were indeed admirable. "Stop, Taxi-Bro," yelled Mike. They had just passed a store selling gym gear. "We need to get in there quickly," he added. "Dude, you're a lifesaver," said Chris and gave him a fist bump. Martin's brother's suits were just too tight. And you couldn't show them off. And the sun was shining. Sun's out, guns out. Their motto is college days. Hehehe, they didn't do much other than hang out in the sun on campus. They were living proof that you could build a career on good looks alone.

"Damn, don't you think you should at least cover your nipples?" asked the Uber driver. "And what the hell is so smelly here?" Martin let his pecs dance in the back seat. "Bro, don't talk, drive! In tank tops, my monster pecs are like prison!" And in the passenger seat, Mike crossed his arms behind his head in such a way that the driver almost fell into the bush in his armpit. "Stink? All I smell is man musk". Christian farted a huge protein fart. "Not only musk, bro." The three bros laughed. The driver stepped on the gas, hoping the tip would compensate for at least some of the pain this ride was causing him.

The CEO and CFO of "growth spurt" looked helplessly at the three men, who could barely get anything past their lips apart from "dude", "bro" and "sick big muscles". The guinea pigs they had experimented with so far had also developed a powerful sex drive and tyrannized all the other reference animals. But at least they hadn't been tattooed and had smelled like a gym locker. Mike, Chris and Martin would make great advertising characters after all. Maybe they'd be able to collect equity that way. And they would need it. At least now they had three extra mouths to feed with a massive appetite for cum and protein.

Pics made @ki-kink

[synthaphone]

Allowing myself to go on a tangent about the nearly 26 year old virtual pet website that i am way too invested in.

So today they released the Candy Pteri. While I appreciate what they were trying to do here with it effectively having two designs that you get to choose between (The "Melted Candy Pteri" on the left is a Paint Brush wearable that can be removed to reveal the customizable base pet on the right), I think in this case, they have created two extremely boring designs when they could have easily created one strong design, or hell, even two strong designs if they wanted to do extra work.

Because with this release, we get a base Candy Pteri with no real lineart changes (like the rounded hair tufts and spines on the Candy Zafara), and an alternate design that's just... a drawing of a Marshmallow Peep™???

I would have WAY preferred a base Pteri where they did something like give it a little marshmallow dollop shape on its head and in place of the tail tuft, like my friend @darieyrie suggested. Or they could give it the Peep dot eyes and more rounded features! There's all kinds of ways you could do this concept.

I'd be less frustrated if the Peep wearable had any Pteri traits whatsoever, but its JUST a Peep that's been slightly microwaved. Which is a little funny, but even more than the Toy Poogle is just an iDog, the Candy Pteri does not have any deviation from its base inspiration at all. It's not actually an execution of the concept of "Candy Pteri thats based on a Peep" if there's no Pteri left at all!

(also are they just banking on the Just Born corporation (who make Peeps) never taking any action on this? it kind of goes beyond 'cheeky reference', its EXACTLY their product. I mean, it seems unlikely that they'll notice or bother doing anything if they do, but i don't really know why you'd risk that.) The saving graces of this design, imo, are that the pink and cream color scheme of the base pet IS pleasant (though the lineart and shading treatment aren't really my bag), and some people will enjoy the novelty of having a pet Marshmallow Peep™.

But really this is just the latest of a number of recent outfit and color releases that feel like they don't think people want Neopets. Like. This cardinal outfit that they also released today.

I love the idea of a cardinal Pteri! But this outfit literally takes away every distinguishing trait of the Pteri to make a high effort, nicely rendered, but stylistically incongruous generic cartoon cardinal????? Its not even a Neopet anymore!!! Even if I set aside my personal dislike of the overly rendered style they're using for more and more of the site assets, this wouldn't work with most of the rendering removed either, because it would still be a Pteri in pose and proportions only.

Not every new design and outfit that's come out in the past couple years has these issues and there have been a number I've really liked, and I DO think its great that the quality of the art has improved since the JumpStart era. But I would really appreciate it if the new pet colors in particular were designed a little more thoughtfully, so that they at bare minimum still resemble the species they're supposed to be outside of the rough pose and proportions. It sometimes feels like there isn't a rough draft or workshopping progress for new colors, and the members of the art team just kind of do their own thing and then the very first draft of an idea is what gets polished and released.

The current art direction for the customization aspects of the site just has me feeling like they've decided to throw out years of relatively cohesive art and world design for a strange jumble of ideas that don't really capture the appeal or feeling of Neopets to me.

[wip]

For a long time now, it's been impossible to see comments or reblogs with comment/tags on posts over a certain age when using the mobile app or blog view. Today I was looking at a post from 2015 that I knew had at least one reblog comment and lots of tags, but all the reblogs were under "other". I found the comment (but couldn't see any tags) by going to the [blog name].tumblr.com/post/[###] link and scrolling through all the notes in one list, but it's impossible anywhere else.

I know this probably has to do with the many changes Tumblr has gone through in that time, but it's still really inconvenient to have disappearing notes on the platform where part of the charm is that posts can survive for, at this point, almost a decade and a half.

Is it even possible to fix this, and of so, is it something you would consider?

Answer: Hey there, @maplerosekisses!

It is possible to fix this, and we would like to fix it, but it’s a daunting problem at Tumblr’s scale. Buckle up for storytime.

Long, long ago, Tumblr was created, and in the beginning, there weren’t even notes on posts. There weren’t even reblogs or likes. In fact, we were one of the first platforms to introduce the heart icon and the concept of “likes”! We created the reblog! Back in those days, each of these actions were tracked separately. Likes were tracked in one database table and reblogs weren’t tracked at all as notes. When we introduced replies, those had yet another way of being tracked in our database. Totally separate entities on the platform for years.

Eventually, we wanted to consolidate these into one number—so we had to count each of those different places. That’s horribly inefficient, and as Tumblr grew in size and popularity, this became a bottleneck that hurt the whole platform. So one of the things we did was to invent a new denormalized database table called “notes,” to track all of these different things in one place so we could easily count them. We still have that table, and it’s still the fallback whenever we need to count the notes on a post.

But this itself is ancient history. Since then, the product has changed even more, and we removed replies and re-added them later, back in 2015 or so—and made some changes in that process to help further improve efficiency. These improvements allowed us to include media in the notes view, and be able to split out replies versus reblogs-with-comment versus likes (kind of going back to the way it was originally.) Even then, we didn’t yet support showing tag usage in the notes—that would come even later.

In the process of making all of these changes for efficiency and functionality, we had to ask ourselves, as you point out: should we try to backfill these new database tables with all of the data from before? For a long while, we were using both systems to power the notes view, so we could display as much information from “before” as we could. Eventually, we didn’t need to do that anymore, because the number of people scrolling back to that “before” time became infinitesimally small. And that's the situation we’re in today.

Because if we wanted to backfill the data, we would need to process literally tens of billions of posts and notes from before 2015, at a conservative estimate. Let’s say it’s 10,000,000,000, for the sake of argument: if we started an automated process to go through them at ~100 per second (which would be relatively safe at our scale, so Tumblr doesn’t break as we’re digging up these old rows in the database), it would take over three years of continuous operation to complete that task.

In situations like this, we have to ask ourselves if that’s worth it. So far, the answer we’ve determined is no. But we may find a more efficient way to do it, there’s undoubtedly a way, and when we do, we will re-evaluate the decision again. We hope that makes sense—trying to make changes to Tumblr can be really, really hard.

But thank you for your question. We appreciate them and hope that goes some way to answering your query. Keep 'em coming, y'all.

[boldstarks]

Giedi Prime (House Fenrir Dune AU)

word count: 1498 Words pairing: Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen x Bene Gesserit!Reader warnings: none (yet) summary: you arrive on Giedi Prime for the Na-Baron's birthday celebration, but you have another task ahead of you.

Before you arrived on Giedi Prime, you didn't believe a place could be completely devoid of color, but as you stand on one of your father's heighliners looking over the planet, you have come to believe what they say. You peered at the black and white planet below from the bridge as the ship waited for its permission to land on the surface. House Fenrir was one of the many invited to the celebration for the Na-Baron's twentieth birthday and one-hundredth gladiator fight.

Even from outside the atmosphere, you can see the planet is heavily polluted from the fervent industrialization led by House Harkonnen over the centuries.

A nervousness settled in your stomach when you entered the planet's orbit, and your father's reservations about the match weren't easing the anxiety creeping through your bloodstream. Today was the day that you would begin to seduce the Baron's heir.

"We could always go back home," the archduke said. He has joined you at the window.

"It would not serve our house to make an enemy out of the Harkonnens," you reply in a monotone voice.

They were known for maintaining a cruel and tyrannical grip over their worlds. Violence and war were ingrained in their culture, and you had no doubt they would inflict that bloodshed on your people. If their treatment of the people of Arrakis was any indicator of how they treated those who displeased them, you knew they could do the same to Fenrir.

"Wise words," Lady Aurelia, your father's concubine, said.

Lady Aurelia was the closest thing you had to a mother after your own had died of a mysterious illness during your adolescence. You knew she did not see you the same way, though. Your father openly favored you and your older sister, Maron, over her two sons. To her, you were simply an obstacle in the way of her eldest son inheriting your father's title.

"They could reverse engineer our harvesters or simply kill us and take over production, and the emperor wouldn't bat an eye," you said, turning away from the grim image of the planet that you would soon call home if all went according to the Reverend Mother's plan.

"I hate the thought of leaving you in this place," Vulcan says.

Lady Aurelia sighs. "Y/N can take care of herself; I've seen to it."

"Lady Aurelia is right, father. I am more than capable of completing the task that the sisterhood has given me," you tell him.

Your reassurance only causes the worry lines around his mouth and forehead to deepen.

"Your Grace," a servant said.

The three figures at the window turn, and the servant curtsies quickly in respect.

"We have been given permission to land, Your Grace. We await your command," the servant says and curtsies again.

You watch her nervously scamper off. It seems that Vulcan wasn't the only one on edge today.

The landing was relatively uneventful, and the surface of Giedi Prime was just as bleak as you imagined. There were no natural plants in sight, and the air had a bitter taste to it that coated your tongue, throat, and sinuses. It made you miss Fenrir bitterly, with its vast oceans and thick forests that enveloped the less developed parts of the planet.

In the light of Giedi Prime's black sun, your ice blue dress looks silver. It's form-fitting to your body with a halter neck and leaves your arms bare. The look was completed with teardrop-shaped pearl earrings set in silver hardware.

A female servant is already waiting for you when the ship lands. She is pale and completely devoid of hair. She wears a dark-colored dress of a peculiar cut, and she keeps her eyes on the floor.

She curtsies deeply when you step off the ship with your father and Lady Aurelia into Harkonnen Palace's ship dock.

"I have been ordered by the Baron to show you to your quarters before the spectacle, Your Grace," the servant says in a small, timid voice.

Your father opens his mouth to reply, but the girl turns on her heel quickly and hurries toward another crowd of visitors being led by another woman in an identical dress. She waits to let the guests from a house you didn't recognize pass before continuing her beeline to the door.

You see Vulcan and Aurelia exchange a glance before all three of you follow after her.

The inside of the Harkonnen Palace is just as bleak as the outside. It is made up of identical black and white hallways; one could easily get lost in them. The servant girl expertly navigates these identical hallways without raising her eyes. She's obviously been here for quite a while. You wonder what horrible things she witnessed, or perhaps endured, in her employment here.

The woman is completely silent until she arrives at a nondescript slate gray door with a black panel installed on the wall next to it. "This is your room, Lady Y/N, and your parents are right beside you."

She motions toward an identical door to the left.

Lady Aurelia goes to her and your father's door and presses her hand to the panel. The panel glows, and the door slides open.

"What did it just do?" your father asks, puzzled.

"The doors to your quarters are programmed, so you need your handprint to get into them, Your Grace," the girl responds. "The Baron has found guests feel more secure when they are the only ones who have access to their living space."

Your father nods and presses his hand to the panel. Lady Aurelia walks into their room without another word.

"Just knock if you need anything, darling," Vulcan said, following her inside.

Their door slides shut behind them, leaving you alone with the servant.

"How did I find my way around?" you ask.

The girl makes eye contact with you for the first time.

"I strongly advise you not to walk around without someone to escort you, My Lady," the servant girl said firmly. "This is not a place where one wants to get lost."

This wasn't a request; it was a warning. The girl's eyes darted back toward the ground. You place your hand on your door's panel. It warms slightly when it scans your handprint. The door slides open, and you step inside. The servant girl won't meet your eye again before the door slides shut.

If you were anyone else, you would feel as though you had stepped into the belly of the beast. But you're not just anyone; you're Bene Gesserit. You're exactly where you're meant to be.

---------

You sit on an elevated platform that sits slightly lower than the one occupied by the Baron Harkonnen, the Reverend Mother, and your father, the Archduke, along with an unknown count and his wife. The crowds in the stands below are packed with Giedi Prime citizens. The black sun has once again washed the color out of everything. You were provided a pair of small field glasses to view all the fights through.

You're sitting with six other Bene Gesserit sisters that you have never met before. Despite knowing little about them, having some of your sisters here is a comfort.

In some twisted way, you looked forward to having your way with Feyd-Rautha. The Reverend Mother Helen described him as violent, calculating, and isolated. The Baron and his brother, whom they called the Beast, were neither fit to raise an emotionally intelligent, stable child. That only made your job simpler. It doesn't matter how physically strong Feyd-Rautha is; he's sexually and emotionally vulnerable. And you could mold him into whatever you see fit.

The opening fights are lackluster. It's obvious the opponents have been drugged to ensure the safety of the Harkonnen gladiators. You noted this with distaste and nearly rolled your eyes. The Harkonnens claimed to be the most dominant, well-trained fighters in the galaxy, but they couldn't be bothered to truly fight someone without resorting to petty vices and trickery. Nevertheless, the crowd roars with satisfaction whenever blood is spilled on the sand of the gladiator pit.

Now comes the main event: Feyd-Rautha's one-hundredth kill in the gladiator pit. Was this the measure of a Harkonnen man? Slaughtering drugged prisoners was supposed to be a show of power and strength while wearing a shield.

A horn blows, and the crowd begins to shriek and whoop once again. In the arena, a large set of doors slide open, and the Na-Baron emerges from the darkness beyond the doorway, a knife in each hand. He raises them toward the sun and circles the pit. The light of the black sun glints off the blades. He's hairless, like the other inhabitants of his planet. He's dressed in light black armor and practically preens for the crowd before kneeling. He bows his head in respect to his uncle and dedicates this win to the man.

The Baron is satisfied by this display, and the barbarism begins.

taglist: @ariesmai

[ending-the-cycle-ask]

Everyone else is asking questions, but I just want to know how your day has been

“Today” is a bit of a relative term, considering we work with time travel, but my past 24 hours have been… fine, I suppose.

We ran some final tests, pulled off a very successful heist, made the final preparations for the party… I feel it’s been a very productive day, all around.

Although… Speaking of, that CCC just loves to get in our way.

We’re considered “anomalies”, so yes, we tend to attract their attention… And as for weaknesses… There aren’t any that we know of. It’s a bit hard to argue with the guys hanging multiple nukes over our heads.

We would’ve had our hands on that Diamond months ago, had they not come in for “clean-up” after that Henry guy bit the dust… Thankfully, we have it now, but that certainly threw a wrench in our plans…

Yes, that was us. Some things changed, but others didn’t, so what does the fate of one jewel really matter to you? Two men still died, one still went missing, and Henry seems to have survived in spite of it all.

By the time tomorrow comes to an end, none of it will really matter anyways.

———

First | Previous | Next

[wisteria-lodge]

Gender and Harry Potter is such a hydra that just keeps revealing more heads the more you try and chop through it. Case in point: Today I just realized Harry Potter might've been originally intended as a book for boys, which if it was *wow*, way to miss the mark Joanne. Do you think it was actually intended for a male audience? To me it kinda makes sense if it was because of the way most women and girls are portrayed in it.

Bloomsbury Publishing definitely requested that JK Rowling publish with her (gender neutral) initials instead of 'Joanne Rowling' because they were concerned boys would not buy a book with a woman's name on the cover.

My guess is that her British publishers slotted it more firmly under 'boy' than her American publishers did. Harry Potter is 100% a school story, a super established British children's book genre. Historically, there are boy school stories (set in all-male posh public schools) and girl school stories (set in all-female posh public schools.) Hogwarts is of course co-ed, but that fact that it comes out of a literary tradition in which all the characters are the same gender... might help explain why in-universe gender politics seem remarkably absent from the wizarding world.

It actually kind of bugs me, when a canon-compliant fic makes a big deal about male-only inheritance or something, because that's just not something we see. There's one line about "Black family tradition" saying that the house goes to the next oldest guy, but since Dumbledore is worried that *Bellatrix* is about to inherit, it clearly isn't that important.

JKR has made a fantasy society where gender doesn't really matter - Augusta Longbottom and Walburga Black are clearly the powerful matriarchs of their respective families, Maxime and McGonagall are headmistresses, no problem. There isn't the boys quidditch team vs girl's quidditch team, the locker rooms and the prefects bathroom seem to be co-ed, "robes" are gender neutral, there isn't a sense that a specific discipline or type of magic is gendered (we see both male and female Transfiguration, Care of Magical creatures, and Defense Against the Dark arts professors...) There is kind of a sense that the boys are supposed to ask the girls to the yule ball... but multiple girls still ask out Harry. Gender comes up a lot in these books yes, but not so much in the actual worldbuilding. We have gendered bathrooms and dorms, and the rule that the girls can go into the boy's dormitory, but not vice-versa. Ron considers lace a girly fabric. Of the top of my head, that's all of the "gendered" rules I can think of.

But, since the main character is a boy, it makes sense that her British publishers would slot it more into the category of "school story (boy)" and market accordingly. I think it's extremely likely that she was asked to lean more heavily into quidditch, an aspect of the world building that JKR is clearly not interested in. She's said multiple times that she dislikes writing quidditch games - which is why she throws in comedy with the commentary, or makes some magical thing go down, or finds ways to cancel quidditch entirely. The mechanics and tension of the game *itself* are not interesting to her. I think it's also possible this is a reason for Hermione's relatively late intro into the friend group during Book 1? Harry can be friends with a girl, but first we need to establish that Ron is his *best* friend.

But then the books hit America, and the whole "school story" thing didn't read as "boy" as much as it just read "British." There was a sense in American advertising, especially in the 90s, that girl's products were for girls, but boy's products were for everyone. Scholastic Publishing seemed less interested in gendering the book, and more interested in making sure it didn't come off as too high-brow to American children - so we get the name change from "Philosopher's Stone" to "Sorcerer's Stone," things like that.

But then right before the publication of Book 4 the series exploded, and JKR could have just self-published the thing if her publishers didn't behave. So I think that you can see the fingerprints of that marketing push on Book 1, which grandfathered in a number of worldbuilding choices that JKR maybe wouldn't have made later. But pretty quickly it just became JKR doing her thing.

[max1461]

This has mostly disappeared from my corner of the internet over the last few years, but it used to be the case that every once in a while some story would go around about a corporation or a government doing some fucked up shit in pursuit of their self-interest, and people in the comments and reblogs would act utterly aghast that said government or corporation would do such a thing.

This was always baffling to me, and I have only ever been able to interpret it as a sign of profound naivety. Of course, I too think it is awful, sad, and unjust when people are exploited, killed, abused or so on by the institutions of our society. But "aghastness" is not synonymous with these things, to be aghast is to be (or present yourself as) in some sense surprised. And surprise is wholly unwarranted here.

I suppose this is part of my worldview that feels very fundamental, it feels deeply obvious, and I struggle to figure out how to talk productively with people who did not get the memo: exploitation and abuse of others in pursuit of self-interest is in some sense the natural behavior of agents in any kind of competitive context. It requires a lot of effort and coordination to mitigate this behavior. We do not feel "aghast" when someone is bitten by a dog. Dogs bite people, idiot! And corporations exploit their workers, lie, cheat, and steal, unless you work very hard to prevent them from doing so. And governments exploit and neglect their citizens, and go to war and kill and maim, unless you work very hard to prevent them from doing so. Individual humans, as members of a social species for which cooperation is paramount to survival, have quite a lot of specific programming whose purpose seems to be to discourage us from doing these things (empathy, loyalty, etc. etc.), and yet very often we still do them!

I have relatives who have a hard time believing in US atrocities abroad, on the grounds that "Americans are the good guys, and the US just wouldn't do that". This is very stupid! Do you think the US got where it is today without cracking some eggs? Bullshit. There's never been a government or a military in the history of humanity that "just wouldn't do that". I sometimes see posts on here from tankies, defending Chinese or Soviet atrocities on the grounds that these things must be Western propaganda, a socialist government just wouldn't do that. Again, I find this so obviously false as to be essentially beneath engaging with. We don't live in a just world! Often, a very effective strategy for achieving whatever it is you're trying to achieve will involve treating people like shit. It is what it is.

I'm not trying to play defense for injustice here. Obviously I think we should do as much as we can to prevent these abuses. But I think that doing so must start with basic recognition of the following: it is the nature of institutions—being as competition between them is essentially unavoidable, and being as their decision processes are unavoidably removed from the face-to-face social context which is so load-bearing in motivating respectful treatment between individual humans—to abuse people in pursuit of their (perceived) self-interest. This behavior is mundane and expected. It can be mitigated in various ways, ideological and structural, but it will probably always be with us to some degree. To look at it and express shock in any capacity suggests a completely misguided understanding of how the world works.

This is the first and most important thing I ever learned about politics or society.