#because maRkEt foRecAsts

[yeowvng]

hm

#maybe i should quit #if i’m not laid off then maybe i should quit #? #things have been slowing down a lot lately and i realized that i’ve been kinda happier #or there’s less bad days now at the very least #attitudes & morale have def been p low on the other hand #because maRkEt foRecAsts #so much of my stress is tied to work and it just consumes everything around me #but yanno #you live in a hcol area and you got bills to pay you got mouth (me) to feed and ain’t nothin in this world for free #hm hmmmmmmmmmm hmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm #i feel very very selfish in feeling this way #i think the question is what would make me feel less guilty #hm #idk maybe let’s just let the dice roll and just #idk

[tj-crochets]

Okay so I don’t have the fluffy blanket fabric in red for a dragon, but I do have a fluffy red blanket I can use? It’s not quiiiiite as fluffy, but it’s still pretty darn fluffy, and a nice deep red kind of color, and I really want to make baby Smaug So I’m thinking I might make baby Smaug (aka a red and gold dragon) next, but before I get started on it I’ll cut out the fabric for another Bucky Bear so I’m one step closer to finishing another auction fill item

#the person behind the yarn #tj's crafting forecast #I should be working on auction fills #but I have six months for those #so...dragon! #also I only have like four plushies left to make #a bucky bear a winter soldier bear a crocodile loki and an ace creature (a bonus because my auctions raised a lot more than I expected) #also a baby quilt and a beanie but those are easy #but yeah I'll get the fabric cut out first #also I am moving! got a new house and am slowly moving into it #(it's not that far away and current house is not on the market yet) #so my crafting time might be more limited than usual? #on the other hand I learned to pregame my salt pills and it's helping a LOT #wait that's not the right word. preemptively take them BEFORE physical activity??

[rajkhateek]

#is digital marketing a good career? #Digital marketing is a great career choice. We are living in a digital world and marketing budgets are moving to digital advertising and aw #The employment forecast for digital marketing in 2023 appears to be fairly #Businesses of all sizes are understanding how critical it is to develop their digital literacy in order to compete to the fullest. #People prefer digital marketing because number of mobile users has grown significantly in the last few years. #In a world full of products and services waiting to be bought and sold #digital marketing plays a crucial role. Digital marketers need to promote their business on the internet. Digital marketing has evolved dra #and the Internet has also expanded significantly. All the ads you see online #the content you view #and the images you see online are related in some way to the work of digital marketers. This way you will discover a few more reasons why c #01.High Demand for Digital Marketers #Digital marketing skills will keep seeing an increase in demand in the near future. This is because there is a considerable gap between the #and companies are dying to hire digital marketers. They know how beneficial the internet and digital platforms are. Digital marketing lets #scale their business further #and generate more revenue. So #learning an in-demand skill never hurts. It only means that you can get better-paying jobs with more security since the demand for these sk #02. Digital marketing Offers Accelerated Career Growth #For all those who feel that digital marketing is a field with little upward mobility #we beg to differ. People were not using WhatsApp in 2011 one of the examples on how fast the internet changes and it changes every year. Di #they are always learning new stuff and mastering new techniques. So the possibilities for growth are really limitless. If you’re looking fo #then you should go for digital marketing. #03.Easy to Start a Career with No Specific Education Required #There is no specific educational degree as a requirement to pursue digital marketing as a career. The internet is a good source to understa #you will only need to practice the essential online marketing techniques #create a portfolio #and you’ll be good to go. These courses could help one boost their digital marketing career. Since there is no recognized educational degre #it allows people from other streams to pursue it.

[custommarketinsights]

At 6.8%CAGR, Global Electric DC Motors Market Size & Share Surpass US$ 27.7 Bn By 2030, Forecast & Analysis Report | CMI

 According to the study, The Global Electric DC Motors Market was estimated at USD 18.6 Billion in 2021 and is anticipated to reach around USD 27.7 Billion by 2030, growing at a CAGR of roughly 6.8% between 2022 and 2030.

Electric DC Motors Market: Overview

Electric DC motors are frequently employed in various industrial applications to carry out various industrial operations. Electric DC motors are used for energy conversion in almost every mechanical advancement since they transform electrical energy into mechanical energy. The steady expansion of industrial automation primarily drives the market for electric DC motors.

Several industry sectors have incorporated industrial automation components in the past few years. Industries are changing their business procedures to compete in the fast-paced commercial environment. During the projected period, these factors are anticipated to support the expansion of the worldwide electric DC motor market.

Electric DC Motors Market: Growth Drivers Future demand for DC type is anticipated to be enormous because of factors including the concerted efforts of governments worldwide to promote manufacturing and the growing popularity of electric vehicles. Numerous countries have revised their energy regulation rules due to the excessive usage of conventional energy sources, such as fuels, and their quick depletion. Utilizing these motors results in cleaner consumption and cost-effective cost reduction.

The rate at which industrial industries are automating and modernizing their processes is dangerously high due to the increasing demand for goods. A significant level of modernization has also been achieved in conventional agricultural machinery, which makes considerable use of DC motors. Due to rising demand brought on by these factors, the electric DC motors market is anticipated to grow throughout the forecast period.

Get a sample of the report:https://www.custommarketinsights.com/request-for-free-sample/?reportid=18935

Key Insights: A) As per the analysis shared by our research analyst, the Electric DC Motors market is estimated to grow annually at a CAGR of around 10% over the forecast period (2022-2030). B) In terms of revenue, the Electric DC Motors market size was valued at around USD 18.6 billion in 2021 and is projected to reach USD 27.7 billion by 2030. Due to a variety of driving factors, the market is predicted to rise at a significant rate. C) Based on type segmentation, the brushed DC segment was predicted to show maximum market share in 2021. D) Based on the voltage segmentation, the 0 – 750-Watt segment was the leading revenue-generating category in 2021. E) Based on end-use industries segmentation, the industrial machinery segment was the leading revenue-generating category in 2021. F) Based on geography/region, the Asia Pacific region was the leading revenue generator in 2021.

Press Release For Electric DC Motors Market: https://www.custommarketinsights.com/press-releases/electric-dc-motor-market/

Regional Landscape The Asia Pacific region will lead the electric DC motor market in 2021. Over the projection period, developed regions like North America and Europe are anticipated to experience consistent expansion. The demand for these motors is anticipated to increase over the next several years as the U.S. government encourages the production of electric vehicles. The industry in Europe is also being driven by government subsidy programs for electric vehicles to protect the environment from carbon emissions.

#According to the study #The Global Electric DC Motors Market was estimated at USD 18.6 Billion in 2021 and is anticipated to reach around USD 27.7 Billion by 2030 #growing at a CAGR of roughly 6.8% between 2022 and 2030. #Electric DC Motors Market: Overview #Electric DC motors are frequently employed in various industrial applications to carry out various industrial operations. Electric DC motor #Several industry sectors have incorporated industrial automation components in the past few years. Industries are changing their business p #these factors are anticipated to support the expansion of the worldwide electric DC motor market. #Electric DC Motors Market: Growth Drivers #Future demand for DC type is anticipated to be enormous because of factors including the concerted efforts of governments worldwide to prom #such as fuels #and their quick depletion. Utilizing these motors results in cleaner consumption and cost-effective cost reduction. #The rate at which industrial industries are automating and modernizing their processes is dangerously high due to the increasing demand for #which makes considerable use of DC motors. Due to rising demand brought on by these factors #the electric DC motors market is anticipated to grow throughout the forecast period. #Key Insights: #A) As per the analysis shared by our research analyst #the Electric DC Motors market is estimated to grow annually at a CAGR of around 10% over the forecast period (2022-2030). #B) In terms of revenue #the Electric DC Motors market size was valued at around USD 18.6 billion in 2021 and is projected to reach USD 27.7 billion by 2030. Due to #the market is predicted to rise at a significant rate. #C) Based on type segmentation #D) Based on the voltage segmentation #E) Based on end-use industries segmentation #F) Based on geography/region #the Asia Pacific region was the leading revenue generator in 2021. #Regional Landscape

[catholictrauma]

this is the place to post about your knowledge and i’m thinking about my little royal sunangel (from the coquette hummingbird family) google deep-dive and i wanted to show you guys these rare little bastards!

this is a male (left) and female (right) sunangel, they’re sexually dichromatic (different colors indicate different sexes) and so, so teensy! they’re roughly 4.3-4.7 inches/10-12 cm long from their beak to their tail!

they’re as little in number as they are little in size, too. they are exclusively found in the bordering andes area ecuador and peru share, where there are subtropical elven forests (because everything about them deserves a pretty name). there are only 8 known sunangel habitats within this area. when documentation started, around the start of the 2010s, there were 12. the estimated population of this endangered bird is anywhere from 3-7 thousand. the royal sunangel population has been steadily — and scarily — declining since their discovery in 2009, and this is largely attributed to the deforestation due to frequent forest fires and the conversion of their habitats into agricultural fields.

it feels like the royal sunangel JUST got discovered, and the scientific community has only JUST started noting down how unique they are among their hummingbird family and birds at large, and now their delicate little frames and stubborn commitment to their habitat range might lead them to death’s door before i reach middle age and have the credentials or cause to observe them myself. ornithologists love these little guys because they feed in these little circuits so no two (super territorial) males may meet, and when they feed, they either stalk and eventually eat insects or take nectar from shrubs and flowers using the punctured feeding holes of some other animals’ labor. also, you know how hummingbirds famously hover while they feed? these hummingbirds are the only ones who don’t. they perch and relax (as is only sensible)!

If you find them as charming as I do, or if you have a heart, you’re probably asking yourself how we go about conserving these birds in the first place.

well, on the agricultural front (which is more heavily an ecuadorian obstacle for these habitats), the situation feels more complicated. ecuador’s market relies on agricultural exports and i don’t see how tumblr users could make the government prioritize sustainability over profits. There are already conservation groups trying to fight that good fight and buy properties on these fragile biodiverse lands before agricultural companies can (you can punch in neoprimate.org for a good one, my link function isn’t working on here) and if you can donate a little to these initiatives you’d be contributing to the protection of tons of endangered species in the local areas.

another way to prevent habitat loss is by funding efforts to prevent the forest fires that frequently wipe out habitats around this area, especially those in peru (the area with the majority of sunangel habitats). there are legal and activist groups putting energy towards that that’s linked above, but another subtle improvement is to provide local farmers and residents with fire weather forecast devices. this way, everyone will be on the same page, and know that if it’s an arid/risky day to light a fire, they should act conscientiously. these devices are being circulated and groups are educating about and encouraging them to the local communities and could use some help in these links. below, i have a screenshot from an organization that doesn’t have a clear donation link for me, but i heavily encourage supporting, because ultimately i think local, sustainable, community-based and indigenous-prioritizing efforts are the way to go.

thanks so much for listening to my little spiel about these cuties, and i hope this information brightens your day and motivates you to care about the beautiful things we can protect. 💙💜

#conservación #conservation #ornithology #birdblr #birdlovers #birds #birdphotography #hummingbird #royal sunangel #peru #ecuador #conservatism #amazon #rainforest

[zvaigzdelasas]

[TIME is US Media]

U.S. and European officials are growing increasingly concerned about China’s accelerated push into the production of older-generation semiconductors and are debating new strategies to contain the country’s expansion. President Joe Biden implemented broad controls over China’s ability to secure the kind of advanced chips that power artificial-intelligence models and military applications. But Beijing responded by pouring billions into factories for the so-called legacy chips that haven’t been banned. Such chips are still essential throughout the global economy, critical components for everything from smartphones and electric vehicles to military hardware.

That’s sparked fresh fears about China’s potential influence and triggered talks of further reining in the Asian nation, according to people familiar with the matter, who asked not to be identified because the deliberations are private. The U.S. is determined to prevent chips from becoming a point of leverage for China, the people said.

Commerce Secretary Gina Raimondo alluded to the problem during a panel discussion last week at the American Enterprise Institute. “The amount of money that China is pouring into subsidizing what will be an excess capacity of mature chips and legacy chips—that’s a problem that we need to be thinking about and working with our allies to get ahead of,” she said.[...]

Legacy chips are typically considered those made with 28-nm equipment or above, technology introduced more than a decade ago. Senior E.U. and U.S. officials are concerned about Beijing’s drive to dominate this market for both economic and security reasons, the people said. They worry Chinese companies could dump their legacy chips on global markets in the future, driving foreign rivals out of business like in the solar industry, they said.[...]

domestic producers may be reluctant to invest in facilities that will have to compete with heavily subsidized Chinese plants. [...]

“The United States and its partners should be on guard to mitigate nonmarket behavior by China’s emerging semiconductor firms,”

While the U.S. rules introduced last October slowed down China’s development of advanced chipmaking capabilities, they left largely untouched [sic] the country’s ability to use techniques older than 14-nanometers. That has led Chinese firms to construct new plants faster than anywhere else in the world. They are forecast to build 26 fabs through 2026 that use 200-millimeter and 300-mm wafers, according to the trade group SEMI. That compares with 16 fabs for the Americas.

So what's the problem? is it that you suck at manufacturing & want more neoliberalism? That's what it seems like to me [31 Jul 23]

[beyondthesefourwalls]

Yo! Rooster + fluff + snow + "it helps me concentrate!"

Here you go, Nonny! This is very self-indulgent because the trip described is also on my bucket list.

----

warnings: fluff, coldness in the physical sense.

Baby, It's Cold Outside

It had always been a dream of yours to spend Christmas in New York City, and this year, Bradley was finally able to make it happen for you. He had gone the whole nine yards for this trip. You visited the tree in Rockefeller Center. You saw the Rockettes perform and caught a showing of the Nutcracker, and ice skated in Bryant Park. You bought enough at the holiday markets that you had to buy an extra bag just to be able to have room for everything to fly back to California. Bradley had even been able to snag tickets to a carriage ride through the city. It had been the perfect trip, bar one thing. 

You absolutely hated the cold. 

Unlike him, you were a California girl born and raised. You had barely ever been off the west coast. He had warned you of the temperature differences, but in all of your excitement at the possibility of finally marking this off your bucket list, you had assured him it wouldn’t be a big deal and that he was being overdramatic. 

And to your credit, you hadn’t complained the whole time. You had barely even let on how cold you were. Up until now, at least. 

Bradley was doing his best not to laugh. Really, he was. But it was getting harder and harder to keep silent as he watched you. It was Christmas Eve, and the two of you were standing outside in line for a popular bar that apparently had the best holiday cocktails. Your eyes were squeezed shut and your chin was tucked as far into your thick scarf as you could get it. You were bundled up in a red winter coat and your head was covered by a white knit beanie with one of those adorable poof balls on top. You rocked back and forth on your heels, and you were aggressively humming the melody to Rockin Around The Christmas Tree. 

“Baby?” he asked, humor evident in his throat, “you doing okay?” 

“Fine,” you said quickly, resuming your humming. The woman in line in front of you glanced over her shoulder, and Bradley saw how she raised her eyebrows before turning back around. He coughed to cover the chuckle that escaped. 

“You’re humming pretty loudly over there,” he commented. If you had bothered to open your eyes, he knew you’d be glaring at him.

“Yes,” you snapped, “it helps me concentrate!” 

“Concentrate on what, exactly?” 

“Not freezing my ass off, Bradley!” 

This time, multiple people turned to look at you at your outburst, and Bradley couldn’t keep his laughter in anymore. When you scrunched up your face and elbowed him in the side, he laughed even harder, but held his arms open. “C’mere.” 

You didn’t hesitate to step as close to him as you could, burying your face in his own scarf and thick jacket. He wrapped his arms around you tightly, and after another verse of Brenda Lee, you quieted down. He heard you mumble something about the magic of his body heat and laughed again. You lifted your face from his chest to glare up at him, your nose scrunched in mock annoyance. 

Bradley saw the moment it happened, and your wide eyes and gasp quickly followed. You tilted your head back even further and took a step away from him as you stared up at the sky. 

“Oh my god,” you breathed, your voice full of wonder, “it’s snow.” 

A soft look took over his face. You had never seen snow before, and the streets of New York had been without it when you arrived. He had thought you’d go the whole trip without experiencing it, and as watched you take in this moment, he’s so glad that the weather forecast seemingly changed. 

You twirled in the drizzle of the slowly falling flakes, giggling at the feeling of them hitting your nose and cheeks. It was almost like you had forgotten how cold you were. You turned back to him with a wide smile on your face. “Baby, it’s snowing. A white Christmas in New York!” 

“Is it everything you wanted?” he asked. 

You wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him down for a kiss. “And more. So much more.” 

You kissed for a long moment, shuffling as the line moved forward. Even as you remained pressed together, another shiver went through your body. Even if your mind hadn’t caught up yet, clearly your body had processed that the magic of the falling snow wasn’t enough to keep your internal temperature up. 

“Hey baby?” He started.

“Hmmm?” 

“How about we ditch this line and go back to our room? It’s warm there, and we can order hot chocolate instead.” 

You pulled away from him faster than you ever had, grabbing his hand and starting to power walk down the sidewalk. “Oh, for the love of God. Yes. Please.” 

word count: 818

-----

Wanna participate in the party? See details here.

#alli's tgm mix and match blurb party #alli's tgm blurb party #alli writes #bradley bradshaw imagine #bradley bradshaw #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley rooster bradshaw x reader #bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw x oc #Bradley Bradshaw smut #tgm fic #bradley bradshaw fanfiction #rooster x reader

[collapsedsquid]

I had never before attended a business conference with a 28 percent chance of an orgy. But those were the official orgy odds when I arrived at Manifest, a self-described “gathering of forecasting nerds” that the forecasting start-up Manifold Markets put on last month in Berkeley, Calif. By the second day of the conference, the odds had risen to 47 percent. And on the third day, they reached 100 percent — because there had, in fact, been an orgy. (No, I was not invited.)

shameful prediction accuracy there

[bullet-prooflove]

Hi. This is an ask for Nestor Oceteva ❤️ The prompt is: 12. You know that I won’t let you fall. Thank you so much.

References to Nestor's art in Spray Paint  and to events in the upcoming Stockton!Series

Nestor becomes despondent after his paintings are destroyed. You’re hoping it’s a temporary thing, that he’s still processing the attack on your home but the door to the studio remains closed for weeks.

The place he loved has become a source of anguish for him now. Joining the MC instilled a sense of belonging, brothers stretched out across the country, supporting one another. Now when he looks at the ruined artwork all he sees is the betrayal. It doesn’t matter that it was another charter, the people who preached about loyalty and brotherhood had invaded his home, fired bullets into the bed where he’d been sleeping moments before.  

It’s hurts to see him like this, so quiet, so distant. Without painting he lives his life mechanically, going to work at the scrapyard, before he comes home and goes to bed. There are too many changes going on in his life right now and he’s waiting for the next threat because there’s going to be fall out from the way the MC’s shifting right now. Yuma may have fallen into line with Manny at the helm but there’s others that aren’t so forward thinking. Both Marcus and Bishop expect there to be some splinting. With no outlet the only way for Nestor to survive is to shut down and that’s what he’s doing.

He's resistant when you bring him to the empty shop alongside Nina’s tattoo parlour. The space has been vacant for a while, ever since the Galindo Agra Park collapse. The high street is just starting to rejuvenate, the influx of tourism from the Springtime Festival has boosted the economy and they’re starting to see small businesses pop up throughout the area.

“Mi Corazón.” He says wearily as he finds himself standing inside an empty, dusty shop with a paste table sitting in the middle. “What are we doing here?”

“You can’t paint at home. It’s not a safe space for you anymore.” You say softly before gesturing towards the doorway at the very back of the shop. “You need a change of scenery so I’ve set up an area for you upstairs, somewhere private where you can go and do whatever you want, when you want.”

Nestor doesn’t speak, instead he swallows hard against the ache of emotion in his chest as he crosses his arms over his chest and looks towards the boarded-up windows.

“The things that you’re feeling right now, the trauma of what happened, you need to work through that and the way you do that is through painting. I know things are hard for you right now, that you’re struggling but this is how you move past it.”

“What about the rest of it?” He asks you, gesturing at the space. “What are we supposed to do with the downstairs?”

You remove the lime green project book from your bag. The one that Nestor has been working from since he and David were kids. You’d found it when you were trying to put the remnants of your house back together, jammed between some of books that had been torn off the shelves. You remembered him showing it to you when you’d first moved in together.

A nonprofit art gallery, something that showcased the creativity in the community, that delivered programs to help kids channel their trauma, to create and build something from it.

You hadn’t realised how much work he’d put into over the past six months, how he’s refined the concept, included business projections, financial forecasts, marketing ideas. This is Nestor’s legacy you hold in your hands and the good it could do…

Right now, he can’t see past the turmoil he’s feeling, it’s too big, it needs to be taken a step at a time. However, this project book is an avenue to the future, a way to remind him that there’s life beyond that, that he’s more than just the man he is in this moment.

“When you’re feeling better, we should talk about this.” You say setting the project book on the rickety paste table. “About how we’re going to make it a reality.”

Love Nestor? Get added to his tag list!

Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

@anime-weeb-4-life @danzer8705 @drabbles-mc @alwaysachorusgirl @witches-unruly-heart @mysoulisasunflower @im-just-a-mississippi-girl @est1887 @mortal--soul @buddinglinguist @spookyboogyuniverse @thanossexual @lexondeck @weiwei0210 @trublu2u @justreblogginfics @oklahomapeach @keyweegirlie @wnbweasley @skyesthebomb @msjava1972 @fleureeee @jp1019 @jeybae

#nestor oceteva #nestor oceteva x you #nestor x rosa #nestor oceteva x reader #nestor mayans #mayans mc #gino vento #nestor oceteva imagine

[sunshinesmebdy]

Moon in Virgo: Tidy Up Your Biz and Harvest Financial Abundance

Astrologers, rejoice! Business gurus, unite! Because under the meticulous gaze of the Moon in Virgo, it's time to blend cosmic wisdom with practical strategy. Get ready for a potent mix of grounded energy, keen analysis, and a sprinkle of earthy magic ready to boost your business and finances.

Virgo's Virgo-ness: Picture a spotless spreadsheet, a perfectly balanced budget, and a to-do list so organized it whispers sweet satisfaction. That's Virgo's domain. When the Moon dances through this earth sign, it brings a laser focus on details, a knack for efficiency, and an urge to declutter both your physical and financial spaces.

Business Benefits:

Sharpened Skills: Hone your expertise, take that online course, or finally master that new software. Virgo's energy fuels learning and skill development, making you a powerhouse of knowledge and competence.

Channel your inner Hermione Granger under the Virgo Moon! Devour knowledge like polyjuice potion, mastering that new software with flick-of-the-wand ease. Whether it's an online course on astrological forecasting or the intricacies of blockchain technology, Virgo's studious energy makes you a sponge for information, transforming you into a confident, competence-wielding powerhouse ready to tackle any business challenge.

Streamlined Operations: Virgo loves a well-oiled machine. Use this lunar phase to audit your business processes, identify bottlenecks, and implement systems that save time and resources.

Don your efficiency hat, because under the meticulous Virgo Moon, streamlining your business becomes a cosmically ordained quest. Scrutinize processes like a celestial accountant, unearthing time-sucking bottlenecks and banishing them with automated spells (aka, handy new systems). Watch as email chains unfurl into streamlined communication channels, meetings morph into laser-focused action sessions, and your once-chaotic workflow hums like a perfectly tuned engine, freeing up precious time and resources for your entrepreneurial magic to truly shine.

Networking with Purpose: Quality over quantity is Virgo's motto. Connect with potential clients or collaborators who share your values and expertise. Think strategic partnerships, not random coffee chats.

Forget the business card bingo of generic gatherings – Virgo's discerning Moon demands quality connections. Seek out collaborators and clients who mirror your values and expertise, like kindred spirits drawn together by constellations of shared passion. Think chess match, not cocktail party. Craft targeted pitches that resonate with their specific needs, and cultivate strategic partnerships that feel like cosmically ordained alliances. This intentional networking isn't about collecting contacts, it's about igniting mutually beneficial collaborations that propel your business towards the stars.

Marketing Magic: Craft targeted campaigns that speak directly to your ideal customer's needs. Virgo's analytical prowess helps you understand your audience and deliver messaging that resonates.

Under the analytical gaze of the Virgo Moon, ditch the shotgun marketing blasts and unleash laser-focused campaigns that whisper sweet nothings to your ideal customer's soul. Virgo's eagle eye pinpoints their deepest desires and pain points, transforming you into a messaging maestro. Craft content that speaks their language, addresses their specific struggles, and showcases your solutions like the missing puzzle piece to their perfect life. Let go of generic pitches and embrace storytelling that resonates with their values, because under this lunar influence, targeted marketing isn't just effective, it's downright magical.

Financial Fortunes:

Budgeting Bliss: Break out the spreadsheets and get granular. Categorize expenses, track income, and create a budget that feels secure and sustainable. Virgo loves a balanced bottom line.

Spreadsheets sing and budgets balance under the Virgo Moon! Unleash your inner accounting alchemist and transform financial chaos into crystal-clear clarity. Categorize expenses with the precision of a cosmic librarian, track every penny like a moonbeam, and craft a budget that feels not like a restrictive cage, but a beautifully organized, secure haven for your financial future. Virgo craves equilibrium, so find that sweet spot where income and outgoings waltz in perfect harmony, leaving you feeling abundant and empowered, the maestro of your own financial orchestra.

Debt Disposal: Tackle outstanding debts with renewed determination. Negotiate better terms, make extra payments, and experience the liberation of financial freedom.

Ditch the debt demon and embrace the warrior spirit under the Virgo Moon! Channel your inner debt disposal dragon, breathing fire upon outstanding balances with renewed determination. Hone your negotiation skills like a celestial diplomat, securing lower interest rates and crafting repayment plans that fit your budget like a cosmic glove. Make extra payments with the fervor of a moonbeam illuminating a dark cave, watching those numbers shrink faster than a vampire in sunlight. Embrace the sweet liberation of financial freedom, feeling the weight of debt lift like a cosmic spell dissolving, leaving you empowered and ready to conquer your financial Everest.

Savvy Investments: Research, compare, analyze – Virgo's energy is perfect for making informed investment decisions. Seek advice from trusted professionals and prioritize long-term stability over short-term gains.

Transform into a celestial stockbroker under the Virgo Moon! Put on your research goggles and analyze potential investments like a cosmic detective, comparing, contrasting, and sniffing out hidden risks. Consult trusted financial oracles for guidance, but ultimately, let your own Virgo-honed discernment be your compass. Prioritize long-term stability over fleeting trends, building a portfolio that grows like a well-tended celestial garden, not a gambler's dice roll. Embrace the slow and steady path, for under Virgo's meticulous gaze, informed investments blossom into financial freedom, one calculated decision at a time.

Unexpected Windfalls: Keep an eye out for unexpected opportunities to increase your income. Virgo favors those who put in the work, so your dedication could be rewarded with a bonus, a new client, or a lucky windfall.

Keep your antennae tuned to cosmic whispers under the Virgo Moon, for fortune often favors the prepared! Your dedication and sharpened skills could attract unexpected boons like a bonus shimmering out of thin air, a new client drawn by your newfound expertise, or a windfall landing softly as a celestial feather in your lap. Remember, Virgo rewards hard work, so keep hustling, honing, and learning, and trust that the universe may just surprise you with a bonus chapter in your financial story.

Bonus Tip: Embrace the earthy magic of Virgo! Surround yourself with green spaces, incorporate crystals like citrine and jade into your workspace, and practice grounding exercises to channel the Moon's practical energy.

So, there you have it! The Moon in Virgo is your invitation to tidy up your biz, fine-tune your finances, and reap the rewards of your focused efforts. Remember, success is a marathon, not a sprint. Pace yourself, celebrate the small wins, and trust that under Virgo's meticulous guidance, your business and finances will shine.

Now go forth and conquer, astrologically savvy entrepreneurs! Your financial stars are aligned.

#Moon in Virgo #Virgo Moon #business astrology #Astrology business #finance astrology #astrology updates #astro #astrology facts #astro notes #astrology #astro girlies #astro posts #astrology community #astrology observations #astropost #astro observations #astro community

[st-just]

A point that I think I recall learning from Doug Henwood’s old Left Business Observer ’zine is that you can find more frank discussion of the realities of capitalist economics in the business section of a good newspaper than in the news pages. That’s because whatever the businessmen’s biases, they really do want reliable business information. Back during the big gas price crunch, there were all kinds of nonsense about U.S. oil production running in the political press, but also a lot of really solid (albeit tedious) articles in the business press. You really see this in the perennial complaining about 538’s election forecasts. If you think of these forecasts as business intelligence for people who like to gamble on elections, you’ll see that the forecasts are really good. They’re not good in the sense of “the candidate who they say will win always wins,” both because that’s impossible and also because that would be bad forecasting. They’re good because roughly 70% of the candidates they say have a 70% chance of winning actually end up winning. This is to say their forecasts are well-calibrated, and if you could find deep and liquid markets in which to bet on all these races, you could make money following 538’s advice. The reason people are always mad at them is that even though there’s a great deal of public interest in elections and predictions, it’s cheap talk, fandom-style interest. Few people really care about accuracy, so even though the track record is excellent, the site makes no money and is apparently on the chopping block. I use that as an example not because 538 is the only good journalism around, but because the nature of their project is that you can actually clearly demonstrate that they are doing a good job — and it doesn’t make a difference! I bet there is some small business trade journal somewhere that has staff who are really sweating the details on trying to understand to what extent shoplifting has risen and where and what the policy drivers of it might be, but you’re definitely not going to find that in the mainstream press.

-Matthew Yglesias, Why you can't trust the media

#quote #politics #culture #Matthew Yglesias

[justimajin]

Winter Splashes

Genre: Pure Fluff (with like a drop of angst)

↳ Writer Reader x Painter Taehyung AU

Words: 14k

Summary: Being a writer is a difficult job - you have daunting deadlines to meet, new characters to develop and constantly seek out bundles of inspiration. However, this profession also demands that you go with the flow, a simple phrase that morphs into a much bigger business issue when your book sales are on the verge of disappearing. It doesn't help that you're thrown a major curve-ball, one that leaves you asking a very ominous question:

✒ How are you supposed to write about romance?

The large brown table has a mountain of colours spewed on it, ranging from hard-covered to soft-covered, light laughs to deep wails, a short stack of words with sharp statements to a long flow of words that could have imaginations whisked away. The bound pages each have different illustrations depicted, their sheer volume only seeming to be endless when another array of them starts to form right below the table. Among all this, two words are engraved with a swirl into each of them and it’s a name that never fails to raise a hearty smile. 

“Y/N L/N.” 

The man on the other end repeats in the midst of your thoughts, your eyes trailing along with every book he takes out of the cardboard box. His brows are furrowed whenever he leans down, brown locks falling down onto his eyes and flush lips stretched out in wonder. He glances over at you with wide eyes from where you’re seated in the corner, the forecasted dreamy look you hold immediately vanishing into bewilderment. “There’s seriously a lot of them now.”

With a smile, you nod as he places the last batch underneath the table and turns to face you, “All of them did well in the market too.” He picks up a black book with dark purple and red swirls lining the cover, clouds of smoke in the background of a woman who holds a horrific expression, “Even after you created this,” Another book meets his hands, this time with hues of pink, blue and yellow splashed on the surface, a multitude of flowers scattered on the surface, “And then this.”

A chuckle escapes you, springing up from your seat with a cherry grin. 

“Well, you know what they say!” You point a cheesy finger at him, placing a powerful hand on your hip like you were some kind of superhero, “The biggest risks will always lead to the best results.” 

“Or the worst results.” He pursues his lips, “But you have managed to tackle a lot of genres in your writing, I’ll say that much.” 

You stroll closer, eyes dramatically wide and mouth agape, “Was that a….compliment?” 

He whips around, appearing offended. “Hey! I’ve given you plenty of compliments before.” 

“You said my last book was ridiculous and that I wasn’t allowed to turn the main character into a fish.” 

“Because that was ridiculous! Why would you even write something like that?!” 

“It’s unique! You know, the good ol’ being interesting enough to read more?” You smirk, leaning towards him with suspicious eyes, “Are you sure you’re an actual editor, Jin?” 

Seokjin rolls his eyes, placing the book in his hands down with a sigh, “I’m just saying that maybe you could try writing something simple this time around. Something without all the plot twists and weird revelations.” 

You narrow your eyes, not yet ready to budge until he glares at you in exasperation, “Hm, Fair enough. So what’s hot on the market?” 

You eagerly eye him, aware of his tendency to keep tabs on what the current status of the highest selling books were. 

“There’s been a demand for something else recently.” His voice grows wary and you raise an eyebrow, following after him as he brings over a sealed box you’ve haven’t seen before. He slices through the tape and begins taking out the paper packaging, revealing a new set of books that don’t carry your signature. 

“What is this?” You probe, picking one up that has an intricate image of a boy and a girl with glittering golden and silver eyes. “A werewolf story?” 

Jin hums, “There’s other ones too.” 

The books go flying from the box as you toss them out, taking one quick glance before allowing it to meet the pile you’re forming on the table. There’s covers depicting snow with a vampire, an image of a stethoscope, another of a basketball court, and heck, even one with the premise of two people switching bodies. You stare at Jin perplexed, not grasping onto how these random titles were going to be helpful to you. 

He leans back, resting himself on the perch of the table. He smiles like he knows something you don’t ‒ a gesture that has you nearly pestering him for an answer until he finally speaks. 

“How do you feel about romance?”

“The genre?” He nods, “I don’t know, I guess it’s nice? It’s cute and all, and that-” 

He continues to smile and there’s something about it that’s unintentionally connected to the dots for you. 

You’ve made up your mind already, “I can’t.” 

“Why?” 

“Because it’s romance!” You raise up your hands in exasperation, but Jin just stares at you, not understanding the big deal, “You know, people gushing and giggling over each other for an entire book. Who wants to read something like that??” 

“This is coming from someone that wrote about a guy turning into a fish.”

“It was unique!” You chime in again, but Jin simply sighs and slides over the books you had previously yanked out. 

“It’s not what the market wants though, Y/N. All of these books went on to become popular just for being in the genre.” He attempts to reason, placing his hands on your shoulders, “I still think you should give it a shot.” 

Your lips set into a firm line, gaze drifting over to the atrocious covers that Jin’s lined up on the table. 

You suppose it wouldn’t be so bad. After all, you’ve been through writing spurts, endlessly crafting out fantasy words in efforts of making it through the deadlines you’re faced with. You’ve faced the mixture of stress and adrenaline, desperately pushing yourself to keep going even if your tank of fuel is failing on you. You’ve spent the long hours of digging your nose into hours of research, familiarising yourself with something out of your comfort zone just for the sake of making your writing better. 

But...romance? 

A genre you’ve skimmed over in hopes of creating something else, a genre that you’ve barely given a second glance because…...well… 

You research things. You try to improve things. And the best way to improve, is totry…...

Even though you have no clue what you’re getting yourself into. 

“I don’t know…” You quietly mumble, fiddling with the bottom of your sweater. “What if it sucks?” 

“You’ll never know unless you try.” Jin offers, but it doesn’t take away the unsettling feeling in your stomach from just thinking about it. He simply stares as you grow silent, letting out a sigh. 

Reaching over to grab a familiar coat, he tosses it over your head. You immediately react, flabbergasted by the sudden flying article of clothing. 

“What was that for?!” 

“Come on.” He slides his arms through a brown one with a knowing smile, “You work based on inspiration,” He glances around the dusty office, nearly packed with opened cardboard boxes and books, “and I don’t think you’ll get much from here.” 

You grin, slipping on the rough material instantly. 

***

The streets are bustling, packed with crowds of people huddled together. They’re surrounded by cream coloured skyscrapers from a far distance, rows of bare oak trees lining the roads. The scent of fresh winter lingers in the air, newly arrived after the scattering of orange and red leaves on the ground. 

You fist your hands up, a cheer erupting from your throat. A hand suddenly pushes through, covering your mouth. 

“Why are you screaming?” Jin asks in exasperation, staring at you in disbelief when you still continue despite his attempts at halting you. 

You pry his hand off, “I haven’t been outside in so long!!” You instantly run off, bumping into some civilians with no care and then giving them a cheeky wink when they glare at you. Jin rushes forward, grabbing onto you again. 

He sighs, stuffing his icy hands into his coat pockets, “Y/N, you’re supposed to be a writer, not a hermit.” 

“You can’t have both, Jin.” You remind him, “Plus I’ve spent hours working on my deadlines so I’m in need for some fu-Ooh! Look!” 

He whirls around to see you dashing over a pile of leaves in the corner, diving headfirst into them before he can stop you. Giggles escape you as Jin can’t help but smile a bit at the display too. However, that’s when he remembers why he even offered to bring you out inside, leaning over to grasp onto your arm. 

“Alright, come on Miss. Tree Lover.” He helps you up, quirking an eyebrow at the leaves currently trapped and poking out of your hair. You instantly brush them out, following him around. 

“Well?” He says with hopeful eyes as you take in the busy area. 

“Well what?” 

“Really?” He ponders, leaning closer, “No crazy amounts of inspiration yet?” 

“That’s not how it works!” You chide, “It takes more than that, you know? I gotta have a type of feeling.” 

“A type of feeling?” 

You roll your eyes at his obvious sarcasm, “Yeah, like I see something and the urge to write just‒” 

Your eyes spark up at a particular store and before you know it, you’re yanking Jin to come along with you. 

“What is it??” 

“Look!” You point over to the shop burgeoning with hard bound books. Planting your hands against the window, the glass fogs with the warmth you radiate as you peer inside, seeing countless of titles you recognize. 

“Aren’t those…?” Jin whispers from behind you, a huge dreamy smile crossing your lips. 

“Yeah.” You glance at the familiar works in front of you, eyes carefully watching people that walk across the selves. A particular group huddled in the corner catches your attention right away, one of them flicking through pages you’ve probably dispensed part of your soul into. 

She pauses at one page, eyes starting to focus in and appearing intrigued. Her lips have thinned out, lost in thought even with the group near her talking amongst themselves. 

You know that look. 

The excitement in your eyes instantly shifts into tenderness, simply content with watching someone hold curiosity in them from your words. 

But the perfect mirage cracks. 

“Hey guys, check this one out!” 

The girl immediately spins around, shuffling over to view the alluring title her friend has pulled out. However, in the midst of this, the familiar hard bound pages are instantly discarded, plopped back onto the shelf without another single glance. 

Your smile falls, eyes tingeing with dismay. You can only watch from afar as she swipes through new material, her attention grasped unlike before. 

Sight lingering down, you recognize the type of literature she holds. It only contributes more to your sorrow, left hopelessly gazing at the genre you’ve strayed extremely far from. 

Jin is silent from behind you, noticing that your immediate cheerfulness has disappeared within seconds. He’s still silent when you turn to him in disappointment, muttering the words he’s been trying to drill in your head since this morning. 

“I think….I’ll give it a shot.” 

He hums, gesturing for you to leave. “Just try your best, and don’t force yourself.” 

You nod, following after him once you’ve managed to tear your vision away from the scene. Although you’ve come down to the resolve he’s wanted, it doesn’t help at all to take away the unsettling feeling in the pit of your stomach. 

***

You already have a concept in your hands. Now all you gotta do is write it. 

How hard can it be? 

Within the span of ten minutes, soft thugs begin to resonate through the room. You lull you head over and over again against the surface of your table, deep exhausted sighs leaving your body. 

Did you really say how hard can it be? Did the you of ten minutes ago actually think this was easy?!

Sinking back into your chair, you stare at the blank document with empty eyes. It hasn’t moved an inch in that time frame and neither have you. 

Romance ‒ that’s it. Just write a story about two people falling for each other and seal the deal with a pretty looking bow. 

But then why are you still stuck staring at the screen?

A groan of defeat leaves your lips and you slump against your desk. A brown-haired individual pokes by your door, raising an eyebrow. 

“All good?” Jin asks. You barely move your head, an indecipherable murmur releasing from your throat. 

“I see…” He hums at the answer, straightening up and leaning against the frame, “If you’re that stuck, why don’t you do some research about it? You usually like that, right?” 

At the sound of the suggestion, your head immediately whips back with a hopeful glint in your eyes. Jin conceals his laughter as you start rapidly typing on your keyboard, taking that as an indication to leave you be as he goes back to editing your recent stories. 

Meanwhile, you’re having the time of your life. 

Of course! Research! The saving grace in a writer’s world! 

You’ve done it countless times before. Whether it was about being knowledgeable in understanding the mechanics of worldbuilding, to figure out the basic meanings of things you’ve previously had no clue about. 

However, the aspect you’re not accustomed to is your screen filling up with random articles. 

“How to tell if you’ve met your lifetime soulmate?” You narrow your eyes, “Ten ways of getting your crush to like you back…?” 

You scroll through, coming across more strange suggestions that give you zero insight for your current situation. Frowning, you wonder if you’re not searching hard enough ‒ until your eyes are left staring at the small advertisement in the corner of the screen. 

“Check out the latest kdrama’s here….?” Hovering your mouse over the link, a broad spectrum of shows flood your eyes instantly. There’s a range of story types and titles, but what catches your interest the most is the tagline. 

In need for some romance? Heal the woes of your lonely heart here then!

You lean back, staring at the shows. You suppose it won’t hurt to check one of them out, after all, it could give you the details you’ve been searching for. 

Making up your mind, you commit the mistake of watching the first episode of a series. 

***

Jin rubs his sore eyes, letting out a low yawn. He’s been unpacking more and more boxes from the publisher, carefully organizing them based on genre for the past couple of hours. After that horrendous task, he has decided to go through the latest story you’ve handed over to him, vision glued to his monitor as he highlights and circles places of improvement. 

He doesn’t want to take the harsh approach, but it goes without saying that your writing has been a little lacking these days. Usually he lets you do your thing and he does his own as long as you meet the deadlines, but he wonders if you’ve sacrificed the caliber in your writing in exchange. 

It isn’t terrible as you would probably take it. It still follows the unique concept trend you’ve focused on for so long. However, there seems to be something missing, something he can’t quite pinpoint even after going through pages and pages. 

With a sigh, he squeezes his heavy eyes shut for a moment before narrowing in onto the screen again. But his thought process is snatched away with a loud thud, and he instantly raises his head, wondering if a book has perhaps fallen down. 

Surprisingly, nothing’s fallen. 

Glancing around, he can only ponder until a boisterous laugh echoes through the walls, closely followed with prolonged wails. He slowly rises from his seat, following the intense sound as the frequency increases. 

He comes to a pause in front of your door, knocking softly. “Y/N?” 

Instead of words, he greeted to a chain of sobs. Twisting the knob to your office, he pokes his head in. 

“Y/N? Are you ok‒” 

To his defence, your office looks exactly how he has initially left it. But now it’s completely dark save for the subdued corner in the room, where you lie wrapped around with a blanket. Your eyes are glued to the bright source of light in the room, namely your computer screen, and there’s a bag of popcorn alongside a box of tissues right next to you. Aside from the strange position, your cheeks are completely drenched and there’s a hysterical look to your eyes. 

He doesn’t know what to say. 

“Uh….” 

The sound of his voice catches your attention, eyes widening, “Jin! Oh my god, Jin, it's so sad!” 

“What’s sad?” 

“This kdrama!” You point to your screen, “It’s so sad! First they were friends, and then they started liking each other, but then they kissed and everything went downhill after this second guy came in!” 

Jin crouches down, barely able to make out what's on screen due to the excessive water sticking to it.

“You’re watching a drama?” 

You hurriedly nod, “Now the girl is starting to fall for the second guy because of a misunderstanding! How are they going to fix all this?!” 

“Y/N…” Jin says in exasperation, “Is this what you’ve been doing for the past couple of hours?” 

You pout, hiding the device that clearly displays episode seven. 

“N-No........” 

Jin pretends not to see it, “Y/N, your next deadline is within two weeks. You really need to start working on this.” 

He grabs hold of your arm, pulling you out of the kdrama cocoon you’ve built around yourself. You let out a deep sigh, pressing your hand against your temples. 

“You’re right...I need to stop wasting time…” You whisper and Jin hums, swiveling around. 

“I have to get back to editing but I’ll come back in an hour once I’m done.” You nod as he turns to leave, slumping back down on your desk with a tired exhale. 

He was right. The moment you clicked onto that link, the hours spun by faster than you could count them and you’ve got nothing done at this point. 

Prying open your laptop again, you resume back to the blank document. 

***

Jin has assumed his words have knocked some sense into you as he makes his way back to your office. 

What he doesn’t assume, is to see you sitting on the ledge of the broad window with a book in your hands. 

“You’re reading…?” He wonders. Normally he wouldn’t even question it, but his eyes drift over to the blank document once again and something tells him there’s more to the story than he initially thought. 

You look up surprised, as if you hadn’t expected his arrival. His eyes stray over to the title of the book in your hands, a groan leaving him. 

“Oh god, not this again Y/N!” 

“It’s to help me understand!” You try to reason, but Jin is short of a few words when you’re reading a bulky thick book called ‘The Philosophy Behind Romance’. 

“How is this supposed to help you?” He points to the book and you defensively curl your arms around it. 

“Hear me out for a minute!” You quickly place it in your hands and rapidly flip through the pages. “Romantic love is considered to be a relation higher than the metaphysical and stems from a desire that transcends the physical body.”

Jin frowns, “What does that even mean?” 

“I have no idea. But!” You hastily intervene as Jin looks like he’s about to protest, “I think it can help me with creating the story.” 

“I don’t think any of this is going to work.” 

“What?” He walks over, taking the book out of your hands and straight up discarding it into your trash can. “HEY!” 

“You’re starting to run out of fuel.” He states, noticing the way your expression sours. You know he’s right, but won’t admit it. “You need to get away from all this.” 

He gestures to the book and the blank document you still have pulled up, reminding you of the ill circumstance you had yet to do something about. 

A dreary sigh leaves your lips, brows knitted together, “I’m trying Jin, I really am.” You gesture to the same empty document, “It’s just so hard. I-....I don’t know what to do.” 

Jin places a hand on your shoulder, nodding, “You’re out of your comfort zone and you’re having writer’s block. It’s understandable, but I don’t think research is what's going to help you this time.”

 You pout at that, but then Jin swivels around and hands your coat to you. 

“Why don’t you try going out for a walk? Clear out your mind and come back with some fresh inspiration?” 

“That doesn’t sound too bad…” You reminisce. Tugging your arms through the sleeves, Jin smiles and opens the door for you, ushering you towards the stairs that descend down. You wave at him before disappearing, hoping to yourself that you can get something out of this to clear away the clouds brewing over your creative mind. 

***

Glittering stars fill up the night sky, a bright crescent moon twinkling and illuminating the empty roads. Save for the sound of awake crickets and the faint honking of cars nearby, the sidewalk you trudge on is completely silent. 

It offers a different scenery compared to your cramped office room, something you didn’t realize you would appreciate as much until it dawns on you that you’ve probably spent several hours in the midst of trying to figure out your story instead of actually writing it. After all, you have been posed with a solid issue and as time spins by, you begin to think that it’s more than doing some mere research could possibly resolve. 

Tugging the hem of your coat closer to your red nose, your eyes glance around. You attempt to take some of Jin’s advice to heart, pondering if anything nearby can perhaps spark a flame of inspiration that you’ve been desperately lacking. 

That’s when you see it. 

Your brows furrow and you have to blink your eyes twice for it to make sense. Sheer curiosity traps you as you saunter over, tilting your head to the side and then to the opposite direction until you blink once more. 

Strokes of black and blue envelope the delicate white background that peeks through, specks of gray and white blotted carefully where the lines meet. There’s a peculiar circular shape portrayed in the middle of it, messily splattered with a hue of dull yellow. It looks like something you’ve come across before, something that felt familiar, something that‒

Your eyes look up, the same image appearing right above you. 

A frown mars your lips and when your vision focuses back on the piece, a head full of blonde hair sticks out from behind it. 

You’re almost ready to unleash a scream, not quite expecting movement from the presumed stationary canvas. You hear a soft sound, seemingly sounding like a low mumble, before silence takes over again. Raising an eyebrow, you take a step forward. 

It occurs to you that the canvas you had noticed was actually perched up against a wooden bench, and on that bench, is a person that’s sleeping. 

You hesitantly peer at them, noticing that the stranger was in fact a man. He appears to be in the middle of a snooze fest, chest lightly rising in the midst of soft snores escaping him. His face is entirely covered with a black beret, strands of blonde hair peeking out. 

There’s a list of questions in your mind, starting from why he was randomly lying down on the bench in the middle of the night to the painting that’s positioned next to his head. While the absurd scenarios explaining his situation run through your mind, his arm moves and you experience your second heart attack for the day. 

The beret falls down onto his lap as he stretches his arms, a deep yawn passes by his lips. You remain frozen as he does so, having moved a couple inches away once it dawned on you how odd it would probably be if he found out you were staring. 

He sleepily blinks his eyes, narrowing them at you. You’re about to explain yourself, but he instead asks you a question. 

“What time is it?” 

“Uh…” You scramble around for your phone, the screen lighting up, “11:34pm.” 

He hums, getting up and dusting off his jeans. Grabbing the fallen beret, he pushes the strands of his blonde hair back into the hat, revealing strong eyebrows underneath. He pulls out an old camera, hanging it around his neck and letting it drop down onto the brown coat he wears. 

His feline-like eyes glance at you in wonder, drastically different from his sleeping appearance on the bench. You let out an awkward cough, a light hue of pink spreading over your skin.

After a moment of silence, he speaks up. 

“Do you like my painting?” You raise your brows and blink. 

“Your painting?” He nods, a soft proud smile looping on his lips. You peer at the artwork in curiosity again. “You made this?” 

He hums, observing it with you, “I waited for hours to paint it.”

He points to the sky and the image finally begins to piece together for you. The black and blue embodying the sky, the shimmering stars scattered all over and the radiant moon, painted so brightly in the centre of all of it. 

“You waited out here to paint the sky?” 

A drawn out sigh escapes him, “Yep. I’m kind of stuck in a rut, you see.” He gestures to the painting again with a somber look in his eyes, “I wanted to paint something different, but I didn’t have any ideas, so I came out here instead to get the experience.” 

“Experience?” 

He hums, “It’s a lot easier to experience the moment than having to imagine it in your head.” 

“R-Right…” You whisper, still staring at his painting like you were stuck in the middle of a daze. You’re alarmed when he suddenly bends down and picks up the canvas with one arm, pivoting around to face you. 

“I have to get going now. Spent too much time painting that I didn’t get enough sleep.” He warmly smiles at you, outstretching his hand, “It was nice meeting you.” 

You take it confused and he gives you a small nod before leaving. You watch his back disappear, gaze averting to the large canvas tucked underneath his arm. 

Spinning around to head back, you dwell on his words more than you would like. 

Maybe this whole time your writer’s block was stemming from something else, something you truly didn’t realize was important until now. 

Experience. 

But how do you experience something that’s supposed to be completely natural? Something you’re utterly clueless about? 

Letting out an exhale, it seems like there’s only one person who can give you clear answers. 

***

You start off the next morning at a place you would never consider yourself to express interest in. 

The art museum. 

You recall hearing whispers and murmurs of a new art showcase going on, your curiosity only seeming to drag you there. The sudden spike in motivation causes Jin to question about your early departure, to which you retort that you’re drawing closer to grasping a solid idea for your story. 

Heading in, the gallery is completely adorned in pieces of art. There’s various types ‒ paintings, sculptures, graphic design ‒ you name it. You don’t realize you’re standing in awe until a couple behind you urges you to keep moving, an action that strains a sheepish smile across your lips as you hurriedly scurry away. 

You constantly glance around, observing each work you come across. One painting captures your attention, hues of pastel pink and mint green mixed together on the overlay of a figure carrying a smaller figure in their hands. Your lips set into a firm line as you draw closer, eyes tracing the outline. 

“You won’t understand it better if you keep staring at it like that.” 

You whirl around at the sound of the voice, not quite expecting to run right into the person you were searching for. The man smirks, wearing the same brown coat you saw him in last time. 

“How would you interpret it then?” 

He takes a step closer, narrowing his eyes in a way you did and you scoff at his mimicry. 

“I think it’s a painting of a mother and a child. She’s embracing her child and rocking them to sleep.” He points to the outline, “The colors are supposed to represent a sense of joy and relief with having her child in her arms.” 

You blink, managing to piece together everything he said perfectly. The figures do appear like a mother and child, and the colors only emphasize the warmth the outline portrays.

“Woah.” You whisper, probably having not realized all that unless someone told you, “How did you figure that out?” 

He smiles, “I’m the one who painted it.” 

“Oh.” A chuckle escapes him at your embarrassment and you sheepishly smile. Your eyes are drawn to the painting again, but this time you narrow down on the faint signature at the bottom. 

“V?” You raise an eyebrow, “Is that your name?” 

He softly shakes his head, “That’s just what I use for my art. My actual name is Kim Taehyung.” 

You hum and he leans forward, eyes curious. 

You automatically shift away, averting your eyes from his strong gaze. “What?”

“This is the part where you introduce yourself.” 

“Oh, right.” You outstretch your hand, “Y/N L/N.” 

“Nice to meet you, Y/N.” He shakes your hand and swivels around, tilting his head as a means for you to follow him, “Come on, I’ll show you around.” 

You nod, hurriedly rushing behind him as he points out several pieces and their artists. You take occasional glances around at other pieces of artwork as well, one with a solemn blue background depicting a mountain catching your eyes instantly. 

“That’s really pretty.” You point out, and Taehyung endearingly laughs, glancing at you peculiarly. 

“I wonder if I should be flattered that you seem to like all my work.” 

“Y-You painted that one too?” 

“Yep, this gallery is pretty new so a lot of my work is in here.” He slightly turns his head, enough to see you behind him, “What about you? Got a real keen eye for art?” 

“Not really…” You truthfully admit, “I just happened to be walking by and thought I check it out.” 

He raises an eyebrow, “Are you sure about that?” 

“What do you mean?” 

He suddenly pauses, causing you to stop on your heels before you plummet right into him, “Are you sure you’re not stalking me since yesterday?” 

Your eyes enlarge, “What?! No, of course not! I just came in here because I heard about the recent showcase and thought...uh...” A deep sigh leaves you from your horrible inability to lie properly, “Thought I might run into you…” 

Taehyung pursues his lips, “Now that’s something I’m not sure if I should be creeped out or flattered by.” 

“Please don’t be creeped out!” You raise up your hands in defence, opting to tell him the truth, “I’m just stuck in the middle of writing a book and then I saw you yesterday…you were talking about how experiencing something helps you with your art…” 

His voice spikes up in awe, “You’re a writer?” 

You nod, “Ah, so different cameras but similar lenses…” 

“Huh?” 

“Nothing, don’t worry about it.” He fully turns to face you, a huge grin on his lips, “I don’t know if I’ll be of much use, but I can help you out if you’d like.” 

“Really?” Your eyes spark up, “Thank you so much, I-I can’t believe you would want to help me out…” 

“You’ve seen me being stuck in a rut.” He smiles, “I know the feeling.” 

You warmly return his smile, tempted to ask him more about his experiences in painting when a woman with a clipboard suddenly approaches the two of you. 

She intervenes, “Mr. Kim, the gallery would like to confirm your next showcase.” 

His eyes widen, “Ah, yes-” You watch as he shoves his hand into his coat pocket, hurriedly fishing around. 

He yanks out a small card, handing it to you, “It has all my contact information on it, shoot me a message whenever you have the chance.” 

You quickly take the card before he’s dragged away, sending him a nod in response. He grins, waving you farewell before turning and weaving through the crowds of people viewing the showcase. 

Gyrating around, you think it’s best you head back as well, knowing that Jin will be suspicious of the length of your disappearance. As you exit the museum, you glance down, reading the contents of the card. 

The background is an array of colours ‒ ranging from blues, greens, reds and even yellows that are splattered in a way that seems to form a tornado. His art name and phone number are in the corner, eerily reminiscent of the way he paints his pieces ‒ drawing you in with the outlays and colours before declaring himself. 

The corner of your mouth quirks up. 

***

You set out the next morning, the sun beginning to shine brighter as you head closer to your destination. 

You find him by the river, an old camera hanging from his neck ‒ just like the first time you had found him by the bench. 

A grin makes its way to his lips, his hand waving for you when you begin to draw closer. 

“Have difficulty finding it?” He gestures to the river behind you. 

You shake your head, keeping a pondering finger to your lips, “Not really, I’ve been here before. I usually go over there to see the book shops.”

You point over to the area you had last visited with Jin, reminiscing about finding your own books there. 

Taehyung raises an eyebrow, “You’re a fan of reading other’s books?” 

“Of course!” You nervously chuckle, “It’s always great to see what other writers do with their books as well!” 

Taehyung stares at you for a moment, his gaze unwavering. 

“You went to go see your own books?” 

You sigh, squeezing your eyes, “I went to go see my own books.” 

Taehyung lets out a low chuckle and you look down, biting your bottom lip. 

“I’ll admit, it is a little odd‒” 

“Not at all.” He shakes his head, “You found me at my own showcase, didn’t you?” 

You blink, “Right…” 

He shrugs, “It’s a thing for everyone who creates. You want to see how the public reacts to your art.” 

You hum, a tad bit surprised by his straightforwardness. It’s an aspect that no creator would take into consideration first hand, but it’s an integral part of being one. 

The public always warrants how art is received, after all. 

Taehyung lifts his camera, adjusting his lenses before snapping a picture of the bookstore. You watch in confusion as he examines the picture. 

“I’m surprised you like taking photos.” You innocently inquire, “Does it help you paint?” 

Taehyung glances at you. 

“You know the feeling of trying to stop time?” 

Your brows knit together and he softly smiles, “When you take a picture, you capture a moment and stop time for a second. It isn't long, but it’s enough for a photograph.” 

You watch as he slips his hand into his coat pocket, showcasing a small array of photographs. Images of the sun setting with mixes of bold orange and solemn blue are shown to you, another with a stream of ducks making ripples within the water. There’s ones of buildings and people too, but all of them are taken in angles that are captivating shots of laughter and shots of despair that could have easily been missed if the photograph had a lapse of time. 

It almost reminds you of when you’re attempting to capture a particular scene in your mind as your fingertips glide on your keyboard, drawing in an atmosphere that has the reader’s senses all working. 

The corner of Taehyung’s mouth curls, observing the gears in your head turning. 

It only takes you a handful of seconds to notice, a bashful smile lining your lips. 

“Writing is like that too, not exactly similar⎯” You retract immediately, “But trying to draw in the five senses around you and bringing it out into literature…” 

You glance up at Taehyung, curious to see if you were making any sense at this point. He’s no longer facing you at this point. Instead his body is facing the river, eyes fluttering shut. 

There’s a spark in your own, and you hurriedly continue. 

“Like this river isn’t just the scene,” You point out, “it’s the sun shining down and reflecting on the surface near the moss. It’s the birds crossing alongside the path and the voices of people nearby echoing. It’s the faint breeze in the air and the smell of greenery.”

“It’s peaceful,” Taehyung hums in content, “and calming.” 

A soft smile crosses your features, “That’s what writing is like for me, taking inspiration from the real world and capturing it all into words.” 

His eyes open and you notice the knowing gaze he holds, as if everything that you’ve tried to explain is second nature to him. 

“So what has you stuck?” He inquires. 

A deep sigh escapes you, the acknowledgement occurring that he was actually here to help with your current predicament. 

“A new genre.” You admit with a grimace, “I’ve written plenty of different ones before, but there were always ones I understood well and I had no problem with creating stories from them.”

You continue, “And even if it was hard, I’ve always been able to figure it out somehow, you know? If I didn’t know about something, I would research it. If I was confused, I look it up-” 

You decide to stop yourself, knowing that those outlets hadn’t been much help at this point. “I’m just…really out of my element, and the worst part is that it’s exactly what the market wants right now.” 

You cross your arms, a small pout landing on your lips. It’s not like that you haven’t been vocal about your frustrations, but more so that you’re just slumped, unable to conjure anything up onto that document with the slightest clue of where to even begin.

Taehyung ‒ who had been quietly observing you the entire time ‒ puts his camera down and places his finger on his chin. 

“Sometimes when I struggle to paint something new, I procrastinate.” You arch up a brow, “Like bad procrastinate. My canvas starts to collect dust.” 

A chuckle escapes you and he smiles, “But then I try to think why I’m procrastinating. Do I just not feel like painting? Or is it because of something else…?” 

He stares at you intently, like he’s waiting for you to finish his sentence. 

You ponder, “I guess…I’m scared in a way? Of not knowing what I’m doing.” 

He hums, “When that happens, I like taking out my camera. Going around and taking pictures not only gives me experience, but also lets me experience my surroundings better.” He glances around until his eyes land on you, “Sometimes I can find inspiration. Sometimes I can find interesting individuals.” 

Your eyes round and he turns, angling himself back a bit and taking a snapshot of the river. You peer over his shoulder and he moves closer to you so you can view the picture better. 

It’s pretty ‒ he was able to get the forecast of the sun over the bank of the river perfectly, alongside the little daisies growing alongside the shore. 

“Nice?” He wonders and you nod, face brightening, “Good. Now just don’t ask me to paint it, that’ll be scary for me.” 

You laugh and he turns to walk down the bank of the river with a smile. 

***

The next time you get an opportunity to meet Taehyung, there’s a whirlwind in the sky. 

It’s been a couple of weeks since your first encounter with him at the art gallery, but regrets are thrown all over the place the moment the wind blasts through your hair. The chills run down your spine, pickling at your skin as you squeeze your eyes shut. 

Jin tells you not to go, or at most, to re-schedule. But a part of you is incredibly stubborn, frustration running through you when you know you’ll just end up in the same place ‒ staring at that blank document for endless hours. 

As you hug your body as much as you can, you strut down the bustling street and glance back and forth. 

Taehyung thankfully appears within a couple of seconds, his silhouette emerging from across the street. 

Your eyes round. 

He wears the same brown coat he always wears, but this time there’s no beret on his head. Instead his blonde locks are pushed back by the wind, his strong brows furrowed and eyes closed as he tries to navigate himself against the vicious breeze. 

You’re not sure if it's the cold nipping at your cheeks or the shiver running through you, but the way your cheeks burn is enough to notice. 

He glances up, eyes locking with yours. A wide smile stretches up on his lips that nearly makes you falter. 

“Y/N.” 

His deep voice calls your name, concern crossing his features. 

“Have you been waiting long?” 

You shake your head, “I-I just got here.” 

“That’s good.” He hums, glancing around. “Not exactly my ideal weather, if I do say.” 

You laugh, “I’m surprised my ears haven’t managed to fall off yet.” 

The corner of his mouth lifts and before you know it, he’s extending his arm forward. You glance at him surprised, but he nudges you and then gestures in the opposite direction. 

“Come on.” 

You slip your hand in, linking your arms together. Taehyung begins to walk forward, navigating you around the busy marketplace. Surveying around, there’s various stores lined up across the edge of the street, vendors alike having many displays for you to view. 

There wasn’t anything in particular for you to buy, but Taehyung had suggested that it would be good for you to come out with him and explore the new area. It makes you wonder if he wanted you to get more experience going out since after all, you spent more of your time writing and being bit of a hermit. 

You peer over at him, noticing his eyes occasionally flickering and observing all the stalls he went past. It was one thing you had learned about Taehyung quickly, that it didn’t matter where he was or what he was doing, he always had this way of taking in his surroundings carefully, like he was studying every aspect. 

That’s when you hear a soft gasp escape him, his hand finding yours as he rushes forward. His feet then come to an abrupt halt and you nearly trip between your own two feet. 

Regaining your balance, you peer over his shoulder and notice his eyes are sparkling. Before you have a chance to question any of it, your hand is being tugged again, the bell to the store’s door ringing above you. 

Your most straightforward assumption at this point was that the store must have had something to do with painting, but you’re pleasantly surprised to find yourself surrounded with pieces of clay, all decorated with bold and bright colours on various shelves. 

Ceramic Art. 

You distinctly recall reading about it in a book once, but had never gotten the opportunity to see it up front and close. 

A piece captures your eyes immediately, your brows drawing together. 

“That’s a unique one.” Taehyung remarks, stepping to stand beside you. 

Quirking an eyebrow, the question lingers in your mind. 

“I didn’t know you did ceramic art as well.” 

Taehyung chuckles, “I actually don’t.” He puts his hands within the pockets of his coat, “It isn’t my area of expertise, but I like seeing different forms of art. Ironically, I find the way of expressing it to be the exact same.” 

You blink as Taehyung steps away, taking strides towards other surrounding pieces of art and inspecting them. You’re left staring as he gazes at a pot that’s been shaped similar to a moon, swirls of dark blue and yellow specks decorating the smooth ceramic. 

You can’t help the smile that stretches across your lips. 

“It looks just like something you would have painted.” 

Taehyung frowns, before the corners of his mouth quirk up. “I didn’t even notice, I just thought it looked beautiful.” 

“You definitely have a good eye for art.” 

“It would appear so.” He lightly laughs, turning around to view more of the art. 

A part of you curiously lingers, walking up to him. 

You peer over, “Does this mean you see my writing as art too?” 

“Of course.” His head snaps back, “Art’s all about expression, doesn’t matter what medium you choose.” 

Your face lights up.

“However,” He brings up and your eyes widen, “Every artist is never the same. People always have different stories to tell and that’s completely okay. That’s what makes them all unique.” 

A glimmer enters your eyes. After the endless frustrations with your recent book, his words do send you a sense of reassurance. It can sometimes be difficult to have someone else understand why you do things the way you do ‒ even you and Jin have had your fair share of arguments over various disagreements ‒ but it all pinpointed to seeing everything in a different perspective. 

You grin, “I can understand that.” 

His eyes soften, “I think it also means that some genres can be harder than others, but everyone can bring their unique take on them.” 

Brows lifting, your gaze fixates on him. But he spins around, gesturing for you to come over and to observe more art with him. 

You walk over with no hesitation. 

***

The following time you find Taehyung, fall is still letting her leaves shed and he invites you over to his studio.

A part of you is beaming with excitement ‒ having only ever seen his artistic ways when he was attempting to paint the stars and you had coincidentally stumbled across him that night. But a part of you can’t shake away the jitters, jitters that you don’t want to spend time trying to understand, deciding to just push it all away as you set out for the day.

The wind is gustful, snipping at your nose and cheeks. Hues of warm orange and bright yellow litter the ground and top the trees, the sun hiding behind grey clouds that ever so let droplets of water release. 

It’s scenery that grasps you within its clutches, glimmering your eyes with awe and leaving your mouth agape. 

And it’s the same scenery that he seeks to capture. 

You have the simple pleasure of watching as he draws lines of jade for the trees and splatters on specks of orange and yellow. He scrambles to paint the few individuals that walk past his vision, capturing their essence into carefully placed frames. 

His art style lingers between mimicking the surroundings but somehow elevating it as well, drawing in the observer with his interesting use of colour and texture. 

You can only seem to watch, lost in it as well. 

Time flies from you as he adds the final touches to his piece and you finally notice the way his hands are completely stained, some paint having even made its way to his nose. His brushes have seen the light of day, piled next to him in a canister. 

And in the midst of it, he looks upon his painting and grins. He turns to you for the first time since you’ve arrived, breaking the complete silence as he laughs with his deep tone. 

“Well, that was a lot of fun.” 

You can’t help but burst into laughter as well, completely astounded by the difference in his demeanour. Astounded how easily you saw both a painter in his element and a man in his twenties observing his surroundings within the same split second. 

You end up helping him clean each of his used brushes, watching him walk down the street with you as paint still remains on his face and hands. 

***

“Someone seems to be doing well for themselves.” 

The retort breaks you out of your thoughts, your eyes snapping up. 

“Huh?” There’s a book encased within your hands, one of the few titles you had referenced in writing your mystery story. 

Jin laughs under his breath. He hasn’t been able to see much of you for a while, only just knowing that you had met a painter by the name of Taehyung and he was all you would talk about these days. 

He tucks away a book in his own hands, “You were smiling so much that I assumed everything has been working out. Has Taehyung’s advice been that helpful?” 

Your eyes twinkle, spinning around on your heels. 

“It has been! He’s so much fun to talk to, and he’s got great insight, Jin.” Your smile widens, “Who knew seeing eye to eye with a painter would be so easy?” 

Jin grins, “It’s definitely got you in high spirits, I can tell you that.” 

“I need to introduce you to him, Jin. I think you’ll get along great!” You chirp, reaching down to open another box. 

“Woah, woah,” Jin draws closer, halting you, “I’ll take care of that, you’ve got some writing to do, remember?” 

A giant pout arises on your lips, “But I said I was going to help you.”

“And you will, by writing for your new book.” He points out, “Spending time with Taehyung should have sparked something, no?” 

You hum defeatedly, knowing he had a point. You had spent so much of your time with him, it was only hopeful that his words would have incited some creativity to strike you. 

Letting out a big sigh, you drag yourself back to your desk and open up your computer, the blank document is showcased once again to your eyes. 

***

You want to pound your head against the table. 

The good news is that your document is no longer left blank. There’s rough jot notes littered on it, some random junctions from the brainstorming you were doing on ideas for the story. You’re trying to indulge your unique perspective onto the story, concepts for certain scenes stemming from a cool night out in the stars, a riverside and a busy marketplace. 

But it isn’t enough. 

The bad news is that you, out of all people, know that ideas are just a base. You need to build up a coherent story from it, create characters, create dynamics. And you have none of those at this moment. 

It’s like all the surface level information is just complete, not the heart of your story. 

You contemplate on how to begin, eyes sweeping over the jot notes listed on your document countless times. You start pulling at anything in your mind, anything that could be linked to writing romance. 

A deep exhale leaves your lips, shoulders slumping down. Your hand reaches out for your mouse, closing the document tab before going to the search bar, the urge to delve in and research the topic tempting you. 

You know you had tried to take a different approach with this, tried not to linger too much on the various articles, but despite the unique types of experiences you’ve had in the last couple of weeks, there still isn’t an answer to the question in your mind. 

How do people even start to fall in love?

You’re in the midst of searching the question, eyes already filtering through various articles ‒ when suddenly there's a flicker in your dim eyes. 

Halting your racing fingertips against the keyboard, the mouse in your hands is abandoned. 

You shoot up from your desk, yanking the door wide open and running outside. 

***

Jin hums a soft tone in the serene silence, opening up a box to unload the books onto the table. He’s been set on organising the newer ones that had just come in, attempting to distract himself before he checks in on you and your progress with your writing. 

The door comes bursting open. 

The book slips through his fingers and a blood-curdling scream escapes his throat. He spins around, brows furrowed together. 

You stand in a starfish stance at the door, eyes wild and breathing heavy. 

“What happened?!” Jin questions, holding a frantic hand against his racing heart. 

“You‒” You raise a shaking finger at him, still gasping for air. Jin wonders why you even decided to run so fast when he’s literally a couple of doors away. “You have a girlfriend.” 

He blinks, sheer unamusement crossing his features, “Seriously? That shouldn’t be news to you!” 

“I know!” You raise your hands in defence, “But I have some questions I want to ask you.” 

He cranes his head to the side, “You’re going to interview me?” 

“Kind of.” Jin doesn’t have time to react when you’re already reaching out for a chair, dragging it closer to him. 

He sits down opposite to you with a groan, “At least tell me this is for the book.” 

“Hold on.” You settle down, scrutinising him, “Do you love your girlfriend?” 

A scoff escapes him, “Of course I do!” 

“Good, now how did you fall in love?” 

Jin blinks, surprised by the genuine question. You seem interested as well, eyeing him intently. 

“We met back in college.” He softly smiles, his complexion tinting pink, “She was close to someone in my friend circle and I thought she was really cute.” 

“Was it love at first sight?” 

“Sort of.” Jin tilts his head, “She was kind, but I wanted to get to know her before anything so we became friends first.” He explains, “Eventually, I realised I liked her a lot and asked her out.” 

You hum and Jin doesn’t even realize you’re writing something down, pen in hand as you scribble onto a piece of paper. 

“I can’t believe you wanted to hear about my experience.” He remarks. 

“Well, I don’t really understand the romance genre in general.” You mumble, still writing. “And Taehyung said that sometimes experiencing things can help with his art, so I thought talking to someone who has experience would help me.” 

Jin quirks a brow, a scrutinising look brewing in his eyes. It catches you off guard when you finally look up, taken aback by him surveying you. 

“What?”

He narrows his eyes, “What’s the deal with Taehyung?” 

You stare at him wide-eyed. “Deal? What deal?” 

“You know what I mean.” Leaning back in his chair, he crosses his arms. The suspicious look in his eyes doesn’t disappear. “Ever since you met him, there's been a lot of ‘Taehyung this’ and ‘Taehyung that’.” 

You sigh, his words drawing out a conclusion from you. 

“He’s not being distracting, Jin.” You firmly state, much to his surprise. It was always a rare occasion for you to be completely serious. “I’ve learned a lot from him, and he’s truly really fascinating and inspiring to be around.” 

A soft smile spreads on your features, recalling all the fond times Taehyung was either teaching you about the way he viewed the world or the places he would take you to explore. 

You’re so caught up in your own thoughts that you don’t realize that Jin is still staring at you, the suspicion only increasing further in his eyes. 

Jin doesn’t beat around the bush this time. 

“Do you like Taehyung?” 

You nearly choke, reality bringing you back as the air leaves your lungs in an instant. Glancing up at Jin mortified, you wonder how he drew up that conclusion. 

“W-What?! No!” A hue of pink scatters onto your cheeks and Jin quirks his head to the side, like he’s not impressed. 

“Really?” He wonders out loud, “Since that museum trip of yours, your head seems to be up in the clouds and as someone knowledgeable in the romance department,” He flutters his fingers like he’s throwing sparkles at you, “I’m starting to think otherwise.” 

“That’s crazy!” You retorted in defence, “I can’t like Taehyung!” 

“You can’t?” He says playfully, “That’s far from don’t.” 

You hurriedly get up, collecting the notes you’ve written. “I-I need to get back to writing.” 

The corners of Jin’s lips lift, since this is the first time he hasn’t had to ask you himself to work on your book.

***

He’s just assuming.

You think, hurriedly slipping into your chair. Tapping on your computer, you wait for the pitch black screen to light up. 

There was no possible way. Taehyung was simply just helping you with your writer’s slump. 

Blinking your eyes a couple of times, you attempt to shake away the lingering thoughts and bring yourself back into focus for this novel. 

Only for your eyes to land right on your lit screen, the search you had begun popping in front of your face. 

The curiosity is drawn out from you, and before you know it, you begin to scroll. 

Majority of them fall within the same bracket of the research you were attempting to do in the beginning process of this book, with links advertising love advice and even counselling. A new link to a kdrama even pops up, something you have to will yourself to ignore. 

Until one article crosses your eyes, one that has you more curious than ever. 

Having difficulty in finding out if you’ve fallen in love? Find out here!

You frown, hovering over it for a split second. But then you shake your head, reciting to yourself that it was for the sake of writing the novel. 

The articles flashes before you, paragraphs of information presented that you proceed to skim through. 

“Falling in love is compared with the feeling of euphoria…” 

You mumble under your breath, moving past it. 

“....There is a semblance of love and trust…” 

An idea for a climax ‒ you note ‒ that would tie in nicely with the finale of a romance book. 

“...Rifts are commonly experienced…” 

You have to create conflict somehow, maybe a difference in opinions. 

“Usually the act of falling in love progresses within five steps𑁋“ 

Your nose crinkles, the corner of your lips twitching. 

“There’s steps?” You mutter, body abruptly freezing. Drawing closer to your screen, your eyes slowly drift over the words. 

“Stages are reached, each increasing with the notion of being in love. They are known as,” 

Attraction. 

Curiosity. 

Attachment. 

Denial. 

Acceptance. 

It’s a list. 

Your genre can follow a list? 

Tossingthe thought into the back of your mind, you eagerly continue, curiosity running haywire at this point. 

“Attraction is the initial stage, symbolising the origin of interest and can be considered on physical guidelines.” 

“Curiosity follows as second, with interest in the person only increasing as time passes by.” 

“Attachment signifies the creation of a bond, the mind filled with new thoughts and changes.” 

“Denial is the hesitance, acting against any forms of acceptance.” 

“Acceptance. Welcoming the thought that you have fallen in love.”

Your mouth twists, each stage sounding more vague and philosophical as the one that came before it. The thought of digging out your ‘The Philosophy Behind Romance’ book from where it was discarded suddenly occurs, until you find yourself re-reading the stages a couple of times over again. 

As you lean back into your chair, there’s a glint in your eyes. 

Your biggest mistake was assuming you had the willpower to wave off the lingering thoughts, because they come pouring right back in before you can stop them. 

If by any chance, he was right𑁋

The stages would have to be followed….

Right? 

You cross your arms, skimming through the contents once again. 

Attraction. 

Did you find Taehyung attractive? 

You recall first finding him underneath the glittering moonlight, his sleeping form residing on the bench and his artwork displayed just inches away from him. You can remember him stirring, his feline like eyes holding a strong gaze that almost made you lose your breath. 

It’s the same gaze he holds while he’s painting, you pinpoint, a small smile tugging at the corner of your lips. 

You abruptly blink, shaking your head. 

Curiosity. 

To say you didn’t find Taehyung interesting, would have been a huge understatement. 

He was different from you, but not in a way that you couldn’t understand. Instead, you found yourself a lot more alike than you had expected, his artistic lens meeting yours. 

Attachment. 

What even is that? 

You can’t help but ponder, thinking at the most you were attached to your writing and books, having an avid imagination since you were young and always finding your footsteps gravitating towards the library. You would find yourself absolutely consumed with the different worlds, eventually leading you towards a career within it. 

It was a bond in a way ‒ one that you would always have. 

Your lips pursue, a hardened expression taking over. 

Was it possible to have the same feeling with another person? 

You let out a long sigh, eyes flickering over to the next stage. 

Denial. 

You freeze. 

The hesitance, acting against any forms of acceptance.

The thought snaps into your head unannounced and soon you’re scrambling, attempting to get back to working on your book. 

A low chuckle leaves you, tinged with nervousness. 

“There’s no possible way…” 

***

You stand awkwardly in front of the door, swaying between your two feet. 

The home before you is small, looking only to being one-story high and consisting of old granite. There’s an exceptional amount of greenery near it, with a small garden at the side where you can notice subtle cherry tomatoes growing. 

There was no telling how you could have best reacted when Taehyung had suddenly messaged you, asking if you would like to come over. You had accepted as always, but you didn’t realize what that exactly entailed until you were standing a mere couple of footsteps away from his door. 

Looking down, you groan, wishing Jin had never said anything to you. 

The sound of a lock turning has you abruptly on guard, the door yanking open before you can even collect yourself. 

And it seems like Taehyung doesn’t give you that opportunity either. 

He’s dressed in a casual tee and sweatpants, blonde hair falling to his eyes and a bit ruffled. It’s a stark contrast to constantly seeing him in his brown coat and beret, a casualness that feels too utterly unfamiliar for you. 

“Hi.” He says in a low voice, greeting you with a warm smile. 

For a moment, you could feel time stopping ‒ one simple thought occurring to you. 

He really is beautiful. 

Taehyung seems to notice your daze, brows furrowing for a moment. 

“Y/N?” 

“Uh, hi!” You squeak, probably too many octaves too high. 

“Is everything okay?” He ponders and you aggressively shake your head, to which Taehyung stares at you peculiarly for, but ultimately decides to take your word for it. 

“Come in.” He steps back in and leaves the door open for you, gesturing to you to follow. You carefully step forward, getting welcomed to the humble abode he calls his home. 

The inside is spacious and ornate, the walls being painted with striking colours and light decorations littering the area. The interior seems to match the exterior in a way, appearing rustic but unique at the same time. 

It’s cozy. And comforting. 

“I apologize for it being messy.” Taehyung states from behind you, quickly picking up a couple of art books on the ground and moving them into a nearby shelf. “My two roommates left to go out of town, and I’ve been here by myself.” 

“That’s okay.” You say right away, only to realize that also meant the two of you were alone in here. 

He seems to read your mind as well, quickly continuing, “I brought you here for a reason, though I’m not too sure how you’ll take to it.” 

You glance at him confused and he walks past you, heading towards one of the doors in the hallway. 

Following behind him, he turns to face you. “You saw what my recent art pieces were like at the showcase, but I wanted to do something different for my next pieces. Something more abstract," He explains, eyes lighting up, “and something that’s a bit more fun.”

He opens the door and your mouth falls agape. Because before you is a completely empty room and in the center of it stands a giant blank canvas. 

“What…?” You whisper in awe, walking towards it. Taehyung leans against the door frame, a huge grin on his face as he watches you. 

You turn, “What is this?” 

“I know you’ve been struggling with your novel,” He confesses, “and I thought we could paint this together. Give your creative mind a nice break.” 

You’re still in disbelief and he struts up next to you, a playful tone in his voice you’ve never heard before. “Of course, I’ll give you credit for being part of my piece.” 

A laugh escapes you, shaking your head at his antics. 

Your eyes connect with his. 

“Let’s do this.” 

***

A wave of light orange splatters diagonally onto the white of the canvas. 

You glance at it surprised, the bucket of paint still in your hands. 

Taehyung chuckles, amused with your aim. “Not bad, Y/N.” 

You smile, putting it down as Taehyung grabs a bright green one, putting all his force into it. 

It splatters in the opposite direction, almost creating an ‘X’ shape. 

He whistles at the sight and you dash over to the other buckets, kneeling down for another colour. Taehyung had luckily lent you his clothes for the occasion so as to not ruin your own, but as a result the clothes you adorned were a bit bigger in size, hanging off your frame. 

You pick up a white in curiosity and Taehyung fondly watches as you quirk your head side to side, ultimately deciding to just go with it. 

Chucking the colour against the canvas, the white creates a splatter right in the center. Taehyung hurriedly rushes over to you, a can of smaller paints in his hands with different colours. You chuckle at his eagerness and the way his hands are already stained with colour. 

“Keep going,” He encourages, eyes brighter than you have ever seen, “It looks incredible.” 

You nod enthusiastically, taking the smaller ones and splattering them across. They come out this time as blots and lines, giving more dimension to the base you and Taehyung first made. 

After having used all your energy in attempting to add in more depth with the shapes and colours, Taehyung continues, following your streaks instead of disrupting them. He’s always had an exceptional visual eye, understanding perfectly on where to pick up where you left off, and it’s definitely another one of things you’ve adored about him. 

Taehyung’s eyes are wide, a childish glint in them that you’re so happy to have been able to witness. But you don't know that it matches the same glint residing in your own eyes, mischievousness running through every fibre of your body when you pick up a small bucket of blue. 

He turns and before he has the chance to say anything to you, a hue of azure blue covers half of his face. 

He blinks in shock for a moment, hand coming up to swipe and realize that there was indeed paint on his face. However, his eyes flicker up to connect with yours and all he can see is you grinning from ear to ear. 

It doesn’t take long for him to pick up a red that lands all over the front of your shirt and side of your ear. 

From there, it’s like a chord’s snapped. 

Colours are flying back and forth, from high to low volumes, and in the midst of all this, yours and Taehyung’s voice are running loud, laughs and giggles echoing around the room. As if two children are playing together rather than two adults simply trying to paint. 

Taehyung matches your energy so well, attempting to create even more chaos when there’s orange landing directly on your hair after you skillfully managed to get a splatter of purple on his. It’s when the paint shoots out from your hair onto the canvas that an idea occurs to him, his blue covered hand slipping onto yours. 

“Wait, Y/N!” 

You freeze, staring at him puzzled. He takes your hand, leading you into the front of the canvas before backing away, gazing at you with intent. 

The look in his eyes makes you fidget a bit, wishing he would hurriedly tell you what was on his mind. 

He raises a hand, halting you in place. “Stay there. Just like that.” 

To your surprise, he picks up a large volume of purple, standing right before you. 

“Close your eyes, Y/N. Put your hands over them.” 

His stance finally alerts you to his intentions, eyes squeezing shut and hands reaching over when you feel a wave of cold paint splash all over you. You wait for a moment as it all drips down, collecting into a pool of purple right below your feet. 

Taehyung takes your hand, leading you away from the canvas and next to him as you blink, the piece of art showcasing itself to you. 

There’s colours. Everywhere. All appearing between a mixture of random to extremely skillful. All coming from you and Taehyung. And right in the middle of the mix is you. 

Your silhouette perfectly lined with a gorgeous shade of purple. 

“It’s beautiful.” Taehyung breathes.

You are suddenly very glad there’s paint all over your face, unsure if you would be able to hide the burning expression over your features. 

However, the burn abruptly increases, a stinging sensation coming from your face that wells tears. 

“Ah.” You wince, rolling into yourself as your hand hovers over your eyes. 

“Y/N!” Taehyung’s hands are cupping your face before you can say anything. “Y/N, look at me.” 

You obey his instructions, facing him but keeping your eyes squeezed shut. His thumb pads hurriedly brush out the paint that has managed to drip near your eyes. 

“Is it gone?” You urgently ask, a tear rolling down your cheek. 

“Give me one second.” Taehyung whispers, his hands disappearing for a moment before a cool cloth is pressed against your eyes. 

You let out a sigh of relief and the cloth is promptly discarded, your eyes fluttering open. 

A part of you wishes you kept them closed. 

Taehyung’s face is just inches away from yours, and you can feel the low breaths he lets out. 

It’s a fact he seems to realize in that instance himself as well, and there’s a silence that cuts through the air as you continue to stare into each other’s eyes. 

Your heart pounds frantically within your chest. After what feels like an eternity, Taehyung moves first, attempting to close the gap but keeping his eyes trained on you. You don’t move for a second, kept frozen beneath his entire presence being so close to you. 

It’s when his lips are hovering just above yours, you break the comforting silence. 

“W-Where’s your shower?” You look away, grimacing at how broken your voice sounds. 

Taehyung doesn’t respond at first, a flash of hurt crossing his features that you don’t see. But it quickly disappears and he clears his throat, separating from you. 

“The first door on your left.” 

“Thank you.” You quietly say, turning around immediately. 

You stalk up to the door, halting when your hand meets the knob. Glancing back at Taehyung, he’s standing with his hands in his pockets, staring at the artwork you’ve just made together with a somber look in his eyes. 

Your body stiffens and he glances back in your direction, a small smile on his lips that doesn’t seem to meet his eyes. 

Turning to leave, it’s difficult to ignore the way your chest tightens. 

***

Your shower was supposed to only be fifteen minutes, but it ends up feeling like a century. 

The intent should be to get the copious amounts of paint out of your hair and skin, but as the steam clouds the air and the water drips down from your forehead onto the ground, your head remains planted against the shower wall, eyes squeezed shut. 

It doesn’t help that there’s still a faint pool of purple swirling around your feet. 

Stepping out of the shower, you open the door and peek outside, only to find your clothes folded on a small chair that’s been positioned right before the bathroom. Sheepishly reaching out, you discard the clothing Taehyung had given you and put your own back on. 

You bump into Taehyung within seconds of exiting. 

“Y/N.” His eyes meet with yours and you halt your steps. There’s unease brimming in his, but it’s something he doesn’t try to bring up. 

“You’re leaving?” He ponders and you shake your head, completely confused on what to even say. 

“Taehyung…” You begin, “I‒” 

He raises his hand up, “Don’t worry about it. It’s okay.” 

It’s hard to not let the guilt show up on your face, but Taehyung leads you to the front door, opening it up for you. 

“You helped me with creating a great piece of art.” He says optimistically, “Thank you, Y/N.” 

“O-Of course.” You mumble, casting your head down. 

Before you can step out, his hand finds your wrist. 

“I’m sorry, Y/N.” He whispers, “And I wish you the best of luck with your book. If it’s you, I think it’s sure to come out amazing.” 

His words always have a way of giving you a sense of comfort, your frustrations and conflicts with yourself melting away. 

But you don’t expect what he says next, “If you ever need anything, anything at all,” The gaze in his eyes leaves you forgetting how to breathe, “I’m always here.” 

It’s not until he lets go of you that you remember your intent to leave, slipping away slowly as he closes the door. 

***

Jin doesn’t understand why you’re so intent on giving him a heart attack. 

The door slams open and you suddenly emerge. But Jin doesn’t have time to retaliate about you freaking him out constantly or that you’ve been out all day and that you need to be making more progress with your book. 

Instead, it looks like a piece of your soul’s been crushed. 

“Y/N?” He loudly ponders, simply left just staring at you as you hurriedly kick your boots off. 

“Jin!” You exclaim, seemingly breathless. 

“Did you run here or something?” He asks, a tinge of concern in his words. You simply hand him your coat, heading into your room. 

“Where’s my computer?” You question, glancing at him wildly. He’s taken back a bit, but he answers your question. 

“There was an electrical issue that needed to be fixed so I temporarily moved it.” He points down the hall, “It’s in the spare room with all the hard copies.” 

“Good.” You exhale, dashing over. 

“Wait, Y/N‒” He isn’t able to get a word in, the door closing with a loud thud. 

There’s a plethora of questions at the tip of his tongue, ranging from why it took you so long to what could have possibly happened, but Jin isn’t able to ponder for long when he suddenly hears the frantic typing of your keyboard. 

***

Twenty-four hours. 

Jin crosses his arms, standing in front of the room that you have yet to emerge from since the past twenty-four hours. He didn’t say much after you had barged in yesterday and confined yourself inside, simply locking up for the day and leaving some takeout on the table outside in case you got hungry. 

And that was all due to the look in your eyes. 

It’s a look he’s seen before, on days where you’ve been engrossed in your writing, too occupied with your own racing mind to halt your actions. However, this time he notices a sense of urgency that wasn’t there before. 

Which is why when you do finally emerge, he can’t believe what you’re waving in front of his eyes. 

“Here you go.” You say, handing him the USB in your hands, “It’s all done, the entire novel.” 

“Y/N.” He says astonished, staring at you in pure awe, “How did you manage to write it all?” 

You laugh at that and Jin is a little unnerved, wondering how on earth you didn’t look crazy after staying in that one room for so long and just simply typing. 

“I think I’ll always be a hermit to some degree.” You toss your coat over your shoulders, reaching down for your shoes. 

“Where are you going?” He questions, watching as you finish putting on your boots. 

You smile, “I have to go find someone.” 

Jin’s eyes widen and without saying another word, you turn to head towards the door. 

He scoffs underneath his breath once you leave. 

“I knew it.” 

***

Taehyung isn’t picking up your calls. 

You hurriedly dial the number again on your phone, hearing the familiar ringing over and over until you’re sent to voicemail. 

Once the other end beeps, you mumble underneath your breath. 

“Taehyung, call me please.” 

After leaving the message, you slide your phone into your coat pocket, glancing at the destination you hurried towards. 

The home is still there, appearing exactly how you had just left it two days ago. 

You frantically knock against the door. 

Surely it opens, but to reveal someone else entirely. 

“Oh.” You mutter, your expression of relief morphing into awkward surprise. The man standing before you looks equally confused, surveying your face. 

“You are…?” He squints, like he’s attempting to place a name to your face. 

You answer right away, “I’m Y/N.” 

“Y/N?” He repeats, eyes sparkling. “Really? Wow, it’s so nice to finally meet you.” 

A nervous laugh escapes you, “And you are…?” 

“Oh, sorry.” He sheepishly smiles, reaching out his hand. “My name is Jimin, I’m one of Taehyung’s roommates.” 

You nod in recognition, “Are you looking for Taehyung?” 

“Yes!” You suddenly exclaim, “Do you know where he is?” 

“I just got back in last night.” He says with a grimace, “But Taehyung wasn’t here, the last I heard he was preparing for his next showcase.” 

Your eyes widen. 

“Thank you, Jimin! I’ll be on my way now!” He waves you goodbye and you spin on your heels, knowing exactly where you needed to be. 

***

The art museum looks exactly the same, pieces on for display and spectators walking from room to room, inspecting each one. 

However, each exhibit represents a multitude of different artists, none consisting of the one you’re searching for. 

“Excuse me.” 

You poke a lady that’s wearing a gallery uniform, expectantly looking at her. 

“Where is Taehyung’s‒” You bite your tongue, “Sorry, V’s exhibit?” 

“Ah, I’m afraid we’re in the midst of clearing up for his next one.” She says with remorse, “There are some of his pieces still left over there if you’d like to view them.” 

“I see…” Your shoulders slump in defeat, but you do thank her for helping you out. Heading towards the direction she pointed out, you find the paintings from the last time you had visited the museum. 

The corners of your lips curl up. You recall being here, attempting to find the peculiar man after seeing him underneath the starry sky without knowing much about how close you would grow to be. 

You come across the same painting, remembering how easily his ability to capture expansive sceneries was. But that’s when you see one of his new pieces, a soft gasp escaping you. 

It’s the painting you created together, fully displayed in all its glory. 

But it’s not the only one. 

There’s a set of three different canvases, all with artworks of you. 

One of them is the same painting of the night sky you saw before, but the sky is painted with a deep purple now, the same colour that was outlined with your silhouette. The moon is completely full, stars scattered around that are brighter with a hue of white. You don’t fall to notice that there’s also a bench added at the bottom. 

Another one of them is a splatter of photographs, photographs you didn’t even know he took of you. There’s images from the river side, pictures coming from the marketplace, and in all of them he’s managed to capture the spark in your eyes. 

The last one has you frozen. 

It’s a portrait, but not just a portrait of you. 

It’s a portrait of you reading.

The image is uncanny, the light hitting your side profile at a lovely angle, the book in your hands being carefully held, the excitement in your eyes even brighter than the photographs. 

Your brows furrow, wondering when Taehyung could have gotten such an image of you. But then you realize he doesn’t ‒ that he’s created the image through himself. 

That’s when your eyes have the instant to flicker down, breath hitching once you discover what he’s named all three pieces. 

My Muse. 

By Kim ‘V’ Taehyung. 

Everything stops, and all you’re left being able to do is to simply stare. 

“I’m assuming I can’t keep this a surprise anymore.” 

You whirl around at the speed of light, recognizing that deep tone from anywhere. 

Taehyung stands before you, a soft smile on his lips. 

“It’s incredible.” You whisper, “How did you…?” 

“I was working on it for a while.” He steps next to you, pointing to the first, “That one was made a few nights after I met you.” He points to the second, “That one was after we had spent time together.” He points to the last, “And that one I made last night, after finishing reading one of your books.” 

You stare at the portrait, observing that the book that you’re reading is indeed one of your own. 

He read the one where a man turns into a fish. 

“You read it?” Disbelief is laced in your voice, mixed with an odd sense of pride. 

“Of course, I’ve been wanting to read one of your books since I met you.” He explains, scratching the back of his head. “You saw my art, but I never got a chance to see yours.” 

You’re simply at a loss of words. You ‒ the person that had a remark for anything and was able to write countless words at bullet speed, had no more to say. 

Taehyung stares at the ground, chewing down on his bottom lip. 

“Has your novel writing been going okay?” He blurts, attempting to draw the attention away from his art. 

That snaps you out of it. “Uh yeah, I actually finished it.” 

“You did?” His head snaps up in astonishment, “Congrats.” 

You warmly smile, “Thanks.” 

After a moment of silence, he clears his throat, “Listen Y/N, I’m really sorry for not expressing it sooner.” He gestures to his art pieces, “I’m not the best with explaining my feelings, so it's easier for me to integrate it somehow into my‒” 

You cut him off mid-sentence, your lips meeting his. The surprise spreads over his face instantaneously, but it doesn’t take Taehyung long to reciprocate, moving his lips against yours. 

You separate from him and he blinks, as if caught up in a daze. 

“You never asked me what my book was about.” You breathe out. 

His brows furrow, “What was it about?” 

You grin mischievously, “It’s about a writer and a painter falling in love.” 

Taehyung seems to be at a loss for words now, gazing at you in pure surprise. 

“Really?” He asks, and you cheerfully nod. 

“Yup.” You find his hands, interlacing them with yours. 

“I’m really sorry.” Remorse enters your eyes. “Romance has truthfully, never really been my genre.” 

Taehyung lets out a low chuckle, shaking his head. “It’s okay. Maybe we can see if that changes.” 

There’s a giant smile on your lips that he matches with his own. 

Tightening his warm hold on your hand, the pair of you walk away together from the exhibit.

You laugh to yourself. 

Maybe romance as a genre wasn’t so bad after all. 

#castlebangtan #bangtanscenery #ficswithluv #taehyung fanfic #taehyung fluff #kim taehyung fanfic #bts v fanfic #bts taehyung fanfic #kim taehyung #bts taehyung #bts taehyung painter au #bts painter au #bts writer au #bts v #taehyung x reader #bts fanfic #bts fluff #bts imagines #bts scenarios

[alrightbuckaroo]

Hello 💗 Making a request for song number 3 or 51 for the Spotify drabbles 💗

Hi D! I'm going to go with 3, which is Stormy by Classics IV, because 51 is Romantic Homicide by d4vd and that's too sad a prompt, even for me! That said, Stormy is still quite sad in it's own way but I'm still gonna find a way to pull joy from it.

Austin, Texas is a placed that's been robbed of color.

That's what TK tells Carlos during due process. His lip is busted, he's fighting off a headache and his pride is still licking the wounds that Alex has left him with.

"Ever since I got here, I just feel gray." TK mutters out with a tired voice that's used to not being heard. Carlos' eyes soften, warm brown eyes displaying a poignant flare of sympathy.

As TK stands, knowing he's free to go, Carlos makes a playful remark to which TK feigns offense to. As he walks out the door, the flashing blue lights of cop cars the pass by seem more vibrant than they did before.

---

TK's doing something he's never done before - he's taking his time to fall in love. He's waiting to fall as not to hurt himself, as to not knock himself against the branches of reality on the way down.

He thinks it's different, but he's finding that he really likes it. He's opening his heart to a man who never plans to let it close.

Things are still a little grey, but then he'll look into Carlos' warm brown eyes and remember that there are sprinkles of hues if you just know where to look.

---

TK's hopelessly in love and he never wants to climb out.

He never wants to be cursed with that immersive shade of grey that shrouded everything when he first got to Texas.

He's hand in hand with Carlos at the farmer's market and shades of red, orange, and yellow have never looked so beautiful.

Everything's vibrant, sparkling as if it's the debut of a color TK's never seen before. Pale grey doesn't cast over everything the way it used to and TK's afraid to close his eyes at the risk of never seeing the world's colors this way ever again.

--

TK wakes up to a bed half full. He hasn't seen Carlos in weeks and he can't remember what the shade of blue truly looks like. He's been through a break-up before but this. This is different.

Outside is a pale grey sky that's all but ready to consume him. He tries to blame it on the winter forecast.

--

TK’s pulled from the brink of the death and the first thing he sees standing above him is Carlos. 

At first, he’s not sure if he’s truly alive or dead because he’s always thought Carlos looks like an angel. 

He breathlessly mutters a, “Hey, baby,” and he’s swathed in the warm that you can only feel in the arms of the one you love. TK grabs onto Carlos’ sweater and pulls him in even closer. 

TK thinks he’s never seen the color green look so beautiful before.

--

This morning, TK woke up in their apartment. He woke up and gazed upon the man he knows he'll always be able to call home.

Outside, it's forecast and the weatherman predicts there will be a light drizzle. Grey storm clouds are scattered across the sky, blocking out the sunlight.

TK doesn't mind, however, because when Carlos opens his eyes and grins at him, TK swears he can see the sunshine in his smile.

--

TK proposes to Carlos in the middle of the night. Moonlight splashes across the dark room, basking it in a brilliant white light. 3:18 in red numbers that seem especially lively display on the digital clock.

Carlos says yes and TK's certain he's never going to experience that pungent shade of grey ever again.

--

Gwyn's favorite song was Being Alive, a song in which the speaker asks for somebody to crowd him with love. For somebody to give him support.

At his wedding, Tommy, someone who's given him unending support, sings his mother's favorite song and it's almost as if he's stumbled upon the meaning. He looks around him and finds himself crowded with love.

He looks around him and his eyes are drawn to the array of colors surrounding him. Marjan's pink garb, Nancy's maroon colored dress, the gold of his wedding band and the white roses that he can't get enough of.

Austin, Texas was a placed that was robbed of color.

Now, TK feels like he's swimming in it.

send me a number 1-100 and i will try to write a short drabble based off whatever song that corresponds to in my spotify wrapped - you can read the other prompt fills here

#is this how i soft launch that i started working on an au born out of this song in which tk is tk but carlos is a diner owner? #anyways i hope you liked it <3 i've been wanting to talk about tk swimming in color for a while so glad i got to do it #series: love is the song you can't stop singing #tk strand #carlos reyes #tarlos #tarlos fic #my writing

[that-left-turn]

I can't even remember how long AMC has offered "a downturn in linear ratings and a challenging ad market" as an explanation for their losses. Yes, traditional broadcast and cable are in decline, but they need higher quality shows.

The TWD franchise, which is the bulk of AMC's portfolio, is old. The shows within the 'universe' need to differentiate from each other—every premise can't be about a family member getting kidnapped, but most of all, they need to find renewed appeal to the audience. I assumed the fast variant and les brûlants were an attempt at a new hook, but getting bogged down in quasi-science won't attract much other than heckling.

AMC has committed to the horror space and they can diversify their TWDU offerings with different elements of the genre. The audience will never have that visceral reaction to walkers again that the first few seasons offered. The mutated walker in season 1 of Dead City was mainly interesting from an FX standpoint and a disinterested "that's gross"—there were no stakes because our heroes have plot armor and everyone else is a red shirt.

Horror should induce some kind of feeling of disquiet. There should be a sense of foreboding.

DC should capitalize on Maggie and Negan's antagonism, but the conceit isn't moving anywhere. There are a lot of hard stares which quickly feel irrelevant and some fans have turned it into a ship because the relationship has stagnated. The audience should have a palpable fear that they will eventually harm each other as the tension escalates. They are both trying to move on: him from being his worst self and her from the worst thing that happened to her. The emotional arc needs to center on that potential loss of their humanity. They are the protagonist in their own arc and the antagonist in in the other's—that framing would be different from what we've already seen on TWD.

I don't even know where to start with Caryl... Trying to find a boat that sails across the Atlantic isn't horror and neither is the debate on whether or not Laurent is a Messiah. (If it's to be religious horror, we need some sort of spiritual evil and the characters in season 1 are simply self-serving.) S1 of Daryl Dixon felt like it didn't have any interest in being a horror show beyond a half-hearted attempt at the bare minimum: the required walkers are thrown into the mix like an almost-afterthought.

Caryl are at the opposite end of the spectrum from Maggie and Negan. They work exceptionally well together and that's part of the draw for the audience, but add an element of the Uncanny, like in FROM:

In a nightmarish town in Middle America that traps those who enter, unwilling residents strive to stay alive and search for a way out, plagued by terrifying nocturnal creatures from the surrounding forest and secrets hidden in the town.

It would present Caryl with a new challenge. Something different. The GA would have a mystery to ponder and Caryl fans could enjoy watching Caryl work on a new sort of problem together. Something they haven't faced before and something that has them stumped. It would lend itself to an emotional arc where they can come to terms with their mutual feelings of inadequacy, because they can see how well they function together when everything else is a challenge.

The key to growing the audience for either of these shows is to transform the concept into something that's attractive in today's market, not a 15-year old formula. AMC needs to set the franchise apart from TLoU too because they suffer from the comparison.

We as an audience are desensitized to body horror—blood and guts have become gratuitous gimmicks that try to cover up that there isn't much of a story. Good horror relies on ambiance, much like S2 of TWD. Fear of the unknown. A creeping sense of dread. That's why viewers (and Norman!) loved the farm arc of the flagship show.

AMC is cash poor because they don't invest in the writing. Their business model (basic cable) is dying, but they're staring too hard at "new technologies." If the studio told good stories, people would subscribe to their streaming service. Distilling the audience into niches of TWD's viewership by focusing the spinoffs on a couple of characters requires AMC to find fresh angles so new viewers will discover these shows. The studio spends too much money on theatrics and not enough on the nuts and bolts of what makes a TV show good: its writing.

David Zabel has no experience writing horror and it's evident from viewing S1 that he clearly has no interest in it. His original characters are dollar store versions of the Roy family in Succession: manipulative and self-absorbed. For horror to be effective, the audience has to care and we don't. (We're mainly waiting for them to die, because that's the TWD brand: raze and burn with no one left alive in the wake of our heroes.) Zabel's an old school network writer who hasn't worked consistently in the last decade, which I assume means AMC got him at a bargain bin price.

I want to feel excitement at TBOC, but I mostly feel dread. That's the real horror show.

#amc programming #caryl #twdu franchise #business end of screenwriting #horror genre elements #tv production

[unrequitedloveletter]

Mistletoe- give me a setting, a character, and a typical event that takes place during the holidays--it can be anything! Visiting christmas markets, watching tree lightings, even just as simple as the first snowfall--and I’ll write a fic around that.

first snowfall in ketterdam with kaz? (+ kids?)

Little Crow- Kaz Brekker

Okay!! I might’ve veered away from the request a bit, but the basis of the request is there!! I got really sentimental when thinking about this concept and it’s really evident in the way that Kaz talks about his life and regards the reader in this fic, so it’s like, next level sappy. I cried like, eight times while writing out the last half. 

Kaz, the reader, and the crows are all around 30 in this one!! 

This is a general note to say that, while the holiday event is still open all month, requests for the Five Days of Christmas Queue will start being chosen this weekend and go into next friday. If you want your request to be put into that queue, feel free to let me to know! I just need requests because that’s what the queue relies on to exist and be functioning portion of this event! 

Otherwise, requests sent throughout this month are being worked on and the goal is to have at least three or four done by tuesday. 

Fic type- fluff!! 

Warnings- mentions of alcohol

To Kaz, snowfall in Ketterdam had never been that big of a deal. While in the city, working from his office in the Slat, snow had simply been an occurrence, one that he would make a note of when he glanced at the window on account of not hearing the rain against it. Snow had never really been something he’d noticed. 

However, as he woke up on the morning of a day wherein a snowstorm was forecasted, it became very clear very quickly that Kaz wouldn’t be able to go into his office. He looked out the window of the bedroom you’d shared as his eyes got used to the light in the room and grimaced when he noticed at least half an inch of snow on the windowsill. 

“It’s only due to get worse,” you said. Kaz flinched, wondering how he’d not been able to detect your presence when it was something he’d gotten so good at doing, though he did grant himself a bit of slack. He’d barely been awake two minutes. “Forecasts said up to three feet of snow. I bet Matthias is having the time of his life about now. Jesper and Wylan are around, the power went out at their place and the snows not too terrible, so they came down to spend some time with us til the storm passes, and they brought cinnamon buns and croissants in an effort to sweeten the deal.”

“And Jordie?” Your son. He’d been three months old by that point. “He’s not made too much of a fuss, has he?”

You grinned. “No,” you said. “He’s still asleep. Haven’t had the time to wake him yet.”

Kaz sat up, pressing socked feet into the hardwood floor. “I can handle it,” he said. “Relax for a bit, Y/N. Our week has been chaotic enough, you deserve it.” 

You gave him a grin as he stood, grabbing his cane before walking to you and pressing his forehead to yours for a moment. “Fresh coffee awaits you in the pot, darling. Thank you.”

“Thank you for affording me a life as blissful as this one,” Kaz responded. “I wake up most days feeling like the luckiest man to ever have graced the earth because of you.” 

The two of you pulled away, with Kaz closing your bedroom door behind him and watching you make your way down the stairs, wondering how, exactly, he’d been able to get so lucky in life as he had. He’d never felt that he deserved it, but, by thirty, a successful marriage and a child had proven him wrong. 

He entered Jordies room carefully, making sure to avoid the floorboard that creaked as he stepped inside, grateful that he’d thought beforehand to have Jesper craft an addition to it. It was one that he kept on the cane whilst using it at home to lessen the sound the cane made when it hit the ground with each step Kaz took, one that turned out to be an excellent thought for Kaz to have had. 

Kaz closed the door behind him, grabbing the baby wrap and securing it in the way he’d remembered. Once the baby wrap had been secured, he approached the crib that he’d built six months before. Jordie was awake, eyes half lidded as he sleepily watched the mobile that Matthias had hung from the ceiling.

Jordie had gotten eyes that Kaz couldn’t place. He knew that they weren’t eyes of his own. His sons eyes were a darker shade of brown than his, and they weren’t yours, either. He couldn’t place it for the longest time, but as Kaz leaned his cane against the crib and carefully put Jordie into the baby wrap, he noticed something. 

Kaz had never forgotten his brother. If nothing else, his son and the fact that he pursued revenge on Pekka Rollins for half a decade were proof enough of that. 

Most of his memories had long been lost to time. Hot chocolate when it could be afforded, moments of laughter with his brother where things felt a little less bleak then they actually were.

It hit him as he grabbed his cane and moved to exit the room, though he only registered it once he’d made it down the stairs and to the window in the kitchen that outlooked the garden, showing Jordie the first snowfall of his life, though he knew that his son wouldn’t remember it. 

You were in the kitchen when he registered it, watching him and your son with a fond smile.

“I uh,” Kaz swallowed, hating himself for a moment. He never got choked up. The only time you’d ever seen it was the first time that Kaz had held Jordie, tears cascading down his cheeks as he smiled, heart full of joy and contentment as he registered that he had a life that nobody ever thought he could’ve deserved. “I told you the story of my brother, right?”

“He died after Pekka conned you both out of your money. It was the Queens Lady Plague, right?” 

“Yeah,” Kaz said. He looked down, meeting his sons gaze and crossing his eyes for a minute to make him laugh. When it worked, Kaz allowed himself a smile. “I forgot a few things about him as time went on, and I—” He swallowed his tears. 

“I couldn’t place Jordies eye color for the longest time,” he said. “My eyes are a bit lighter brown than his are. I couldn’t place it, really. I thought it must’ve been because of my mother or my father or an aunt or uncle that I didn’t know. I assumed it was one of your relatives as well, but I—I couldn’t bloody well figure it out until now.”

“Who’s eye color is it, then?” You asked.

“My brothers,” Kaz said. The tears fell, and Kaz didn’t stop them. “He’s got the eyes of his namesake.” Such a thing would’ve made an ordinary man weep. Such, Kaz supposed, was the same of criminals. 

“I never thought I would see my brothers eyes again, not after he died.” 

You grinned at that, looking between your husband and the son who looked a bloody lot like him.

“I’ll give you a moment, Brekker,” you said. “You look like you need one.”

“We’ll join you in the living room in a minute, my love,” Kaz said. “I’m sorry—I didn’t mean to get so—well—” 

You grinned, shaking your head. “You have every right to be as mushy as you want to be. Jesper will tease you if he notices you’ve cried, though.” 

“I know he will,” Kaz said with a laugh. 

You pressed a kiss to his cheek, pressing a kiss to the top of your sons head before you left.

“I named you after someone I lost, little crow,” Kaz said, barely managing to speak through his tears. “You have his eyes, too, which is enough to make me cry.” He found humor in it, though. The man who never cried for anything, crying over something so simple as the color of his sons eyes.

“A lot has happened me to me throughout the course of my life, Jordie,” Kaz said. “I’ve made many mistakes that I have gone back and corrected. People, like your aunt Inej, have snuck up on me many times. My feelings for your other parent seemed to have snuck up on me as well, and I have many regrets. Your existence, however, is not one of them.” 

Jordie, still too young to talk, said nothing. 

“I promise you will never wonder what it is like to be loved by a parent. You will never have to grow up without a family,” he said.

“No, he won’t,” you agreed. Kaz turned to look at you, seeing that you’d been grinning, tears on your cheeks, too. “I love you, Kaz. More than anything.”

You gave yourself a minute and wiped your tears away, a little embarrassed that you’d cried over your husbands words at all. Kaz reached a hand up, wiping his from his face and looking at you and your son like you were the reason behind all the good things in the world.

“Ah, is it a bloody family reunion in here?” Jesper asked with a teasing grin. 

Wylan scoffed as he entered at Jespers side, pairing it with an eye roll and a kiss to his husbands cheek even still. He took Jordie from Kaz’s grasp, and Kaz undid the baby wrap before passing it to Jesper.

Jesper looked at your son, and then between the two of you. “This kid is going to have the best bloody life any kid ever has,” he said. “He’s got two kickass parents, which is an excellent start.” 

Kaz met your gaze with a grin. “We did good,” he said.

You returned the grin, taking his hand and leaning your head against his shoulder. 

“Yeah,” you agreed. “We really did.”

#kaz brekker #kaz brekker x reader #six of crows #shadow and bone

[ferrarihamilton]

Yuki Moto GP 👁

Tiny boy on bike

MY YUKIERRE MAGNUM OPUS. for all three anons who asked for this one (disclaimer, i know this is not how motorsports works lol, but it's my fic and i can bend reality how i want hehe. also proof of how long ago i started this is that charles' gf is still charlotte AND nyck is still yuki's teammate 😭😭):

The news breaks in August. When Pierre sees it, he blinks, says, What. The tweet is still there in all it's glory even after he refreshes the page twice.

He shoves his phone under Esteban’s nose. “Did you see this?”

Esteban gives him a pained look. They’re friends, sort of, because now that they’re both twenty-nine, when Esteban is a dickhead it’s funny instead of enraging. He’s fair on the track, and not terrible when marketing makes them play dumb games, which is what’s important. Mostly, they bitch about the car together.

“Yes,” Esteban says. “I saw it. Why are you so surprised?”

“How are you not surprised? Wait— did you know? How did you know?”

Esteban’s face goes from pained to unimpressed. “Because you told me.”

“What?”

“In June. You told me Yuki told you he was thinking of going to MotoGP when we were in Canada.”

“As a joke! Not for real!” Yuki had mentioned it when they were lining up for the national anthem. Pierre had laughed and said, “You’d look good on a motorbike, Yukino,” and Yuki had grinned at him, pulled his bottom lip between his teeth. Pierre remembers it leaving his mouth plump and shiny.

“I’m gonna be faster than you,” Yuki had said.

“Not if you keep eating so much. Where the fuck does it all go?” and then the conversation had moved on. It’s been years since they were teammates, but Yuki’s smile is still the same, as is the small, compact line of his body when he pulls Pierre into a hug. AlphaTauri have been having an okay season; Alpine a better one. None of which can explain why Sky Sports is telling him Yuki Tsunoda is racing for Yamaha in MotoGP in 2026. MotoGP. Not Formula 1. Not even single seaters, not even cars.

“Can he even do that?” Pierre asks. “Motorcycles are different to cars.”

“I’m sure he’s noticed,” but Esteban’s sarcasm is lost on Pierre, who has already opened his text thread with Yuki. Yuki doesn’t reply until the next morning, and even then it’s only a bunch of smiley emojis. Pierre stares down at them. He feels off-kilter, weird in a way he can’t name.

“It makes sense, no?” Ilies says when they get lunch.

Pierre stares blankly. There’s nothing about this that makes sense. Ilies rolls his eyes.

“Yuki’s a good driver,” he says as he stirs the dressing into his salad. “But AlphaTauri are never going to give him the car he needs. You know that.”

Of course Pierre knows that. If anything, Pierre knows that better than almost anybody else.

“Although I thought he would try Formula E or WEC before going to MotoGP.”

“But,” Pierre says. He blinks. What he wants to say is, he can’t leave Formula 1, which is completely insane, because Yuki can do whatever he wants. “I don’t want him to be unhappy,” he says instead, which he realises afterwards is much more incriminating.

Ilies looks at him strangely. “Yes, of course. But he’s unhappy now. His contract has another year, yes? He would not be leaving if he was happy.”

Pierre stares down at his lunch. Was Yuki unhappy? He hadn’t seemed like it, whenever Pierre’s seen him these last few months, which admittedly has not been that often. “But he’s a Formula 1 driver.”

“Not next year,” Ilies says. He frowns. “Are you okay?”

Pierre shakes himself. “Yeah mate,” he says. “Just thinking. Paddock gossip, you know?”

Ilies rolls his eyes, instantaneously looking less worried. “Yes, yes, we know you love your gossip.”

“Hey!” Pierre laughs, and forcibly squashes down the unease still sitting in his stomach. Yuki’s an adult who can make his own decisions, and anyway Pierre can just fucking talk to him the next time they see each other. It’s not that big a deal.

+++++

They’re at Zandvoort the next weekend, where the forecast says there will be a little bit of rain, just enough to make it exciting. Even from a distance, Pierre can see how Yuki is flushed, happy. He looks excited. Pierre remembers feeling that way, the weekend his own move had been announced. They’d been in Japan. He remembers Yuki smiling at him.

“There he is,” Pierre says when they get close, and Yuki grins, skips his way over and bumps their shoulders together. Pierre resists the urge to pull him into a hug, says instead, “Is this how you greet all drivers to your garage? Or just me?”

Yuki laughs. “No, you’re special.”

“Careful mate, people might get ideas.”

Yuki laughs again, and Pierre tries to think of a way to say why are you leaving that isn’t just is this a gigantic joke? Before he can do so, there’s a shout from across the garage.

“Yuki!” It’s Nyck, rounding the corner. “I was looking for you.”

Yuki does a kind of full body flourish, and Nyck laughs. It makes Pierre prickle in irritation, and he forces it down. He nods at Nyck. “Hey mate.”

Nyck holds his hand out for a fist-bump; they’re friendly, but not close. “Hey Pierre, you alright?”

Pierre returns the fist-bump. “Yuki was just telling me about his news.”

This of course is a fucking lie. Pierre doesn’t even know why he says it, and Yuki shoots him an odd look before he gets distracted by Nyck exaggeratedly turning the corners of his mouth down. “Gonna miss him so much,” Nyck says, and slings an arm around Yuki’s shoulders, drawing him into a sideways hug. Yuki goes easily, fitting himself into Nyck’s side.

“Just because you don’t want to be the shortest on the grid now.” Yuki smiles slyly under Nyck’s arm.

“Oi!” Nyck says, pulling Yuki into a headlock and starting to scrub at his hair with his knuckles. Yuki squawks, starts jabbing Nyck in the ribs, and the two of them stagger around like some kind of two-headed monster. The mechanics are rolling their eyes and laughing at them, nimbly weaving around them like it’s a common occurrence and they’re used to it. Pierre hears himself laugh too. It feels like it’s coming from someone else.

+++++

“You’re being shit,” Charlotte tells him when Pierre recounts the whole irritating situation. Charles wisely keeps his mouth shut. He’s looking a lot like he’s regretting suggesting the three of them get dinner together.

Pierre scowls down at his food. “I’m not being shit.”

“Yuki was happy for you when you moved,” Charlotte continues, undeterred.

“This is different! He’s—” Pierre cuts himself off.

“Did you even say congratulations?”

“Why would I congratulate him.”

Charlotte rolls his eyes. “It’s not like he’s suddenly going to stop being your friend just because he’s not in F1 anymore."

Pierre bristles, because he knows that. When he’d made the move to Alpine, Pierre had told a hundred interviewers and fans that they would still be friends. Yuki had even laughed, said, of course! Of course Yuki would still be his friend. But that was when they wouldn’t be sharing factories and cars anymore. Now wouldn’t be even sharing the paddock. No more amused sideways glances at one another in the drivers’ briefings. No more making each other laugh in press conferences.

“Charles. Mate.” Back me up, he tries to get across.

Charles finally looks up, guiltily. Pierre stares at him. No way.

“Charles.”

“She’s right,” Charles says, pained, before clamping his mouth shut again.

Pierre looks at Charlotte. She’s too composed to do anything like look obviously smug, but there’s definitely a satisfied air in the way she’s eating her pasta.

It’s— ridiculous, is what it is, the way they’re both acting like he’s the unreasonable one. Yuki has spent his whole life wanting to drive in F1, and now he’s leaving? Maybe he hasn’t become world champion yet, but good things take time, even if Yuki is impatient. Yuki is his friend, and Pierre wants him to do well. Pierre is right to feel indignant about it all.

“Whatever,” he says.

He’s getting ready for bed that night when a notification pops up: Yuki has posted on his Instagram story.

The first story is a repost, Yamaha welcoming him to the team. Yuki has added a string of purple hearts. The second story is a simple thanks, for all the well wishes and support. I’m excited for 2026!

Pierre stares at it. There's something ugly under his sternum, wild, roiling.

Fuck.

+++++

Pierre decides that maybe Charles and Charlotte are right, so he shows up in Faenza unannounced.

“Congrats,” he tells Yuki when he opens the door. “Let’s go to dinner. I’ll pay.”

Yuki looks surprised, but pleased. “Hello, Pierre. What are you doing in Faenza?”

Pierre blinks. “Seeing you?”

“Okay.” Yuki stands back, lets Pierre into his apartment. “I already have dinner plans, but you can come if you like.”

Which is how Pierre spends dinner being stared down by Kazuto and listening to Yuki enthuse about the string of races in Asia that are coming up. His last string of F1 races in Asia. Pierre tries to smile at him, but Kazuto doesn’t look very impressed, so Pierre is relieved when they say goodbye outside the restaurant, and Kazuto heads in the opposite direction to where they're parked.

Yuki drove them, and they sit in the car for a while as he types rapid-fire replies on his phone. After a couple of minutes, Pierre can’t help but ask. “Who are you texting?”

“Fabio got my number, see.” Yuki tilts his phone screen. “We’ve been talking a bit, about next year.”

Pierre grits his teeth. “Nice.”

“He has lots of advice. He’s very kind.”

“Wonderful.”

They end up going back to Yuki’s and playing video games, yelling at the screen, and pushing each other into the couch cushions and generally being giggling nuisances. Pierre crashes in Yuki’s spare room. In the morning, Yuki makes them pancakes, and Pierre goes back to Milan feeling like he's solved nothing.

+++++

Abu Dhabi is miserable.

“Last F1 race,” he says to Yuki as they’re waiting for the driver’s briefing to start. “How do you feel?”

“Happy,” Yuki says. “Sad. Weird.”

“Will you miss me?”

“I’ll miss everyone,”

“But will you miss me?”

Yuki pauses. He’d been fiddling with his water bottle before, but now he turns his whole body to cast a weird look at Pierre. Pierre shifts. He feels caught out, but he doesn’t know for what.

“Yes Pierre,” Yuki says indulgently. “I will miss you.”

It doesn’t really settle Pierre, but they’ve got a race to get on with, so he does that. Charles has already won the championship, and he wins this race too. After Pierre has given him his congratulations, thanked his own team for the year, he goes to find Yuki afterwards at the AlphaTauri garage.

“Congrats,” Yuki says. Pierre had come P8, not a bad end to not a bad season.

“Yuki—” but he’s not sure what to say next. He wishes he’d thought to bring a gift of some kind, or at least prepared something properly to say.

Yuki smiles up at him. His eyes are crinkled, like they always are when he smiles at Pierre. “Sorry Pierre, I have to go. Team celebrations.”

“But let’s get dinner. Text me?”

“Of course.” Pierre makes himself grin back, and draws Yuki into a hug. It'll be the last time he sees him in his racesuit, he thinks distantly, and tightens his arm across Yuki's shoulders.

#yukierre #jo writes fic #there are several more scenes about pierre going to a motogp race and salivating over yuki's thighs in riding leathers yet to be written dw #motogp!yuki