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#sailing ship saturday

halopedia · 10 months

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Sailing Ship Saturday — Sangheili galley

This ancient Sangheili maritime vessel made use of oars and sails to navigate the treacherous oceans of Sanghelios at some point prior to the species' formation of the Covenant alongside the San'Shyuum.

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freebooter4ever · 9 months

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Lmao my pittsburgh schedule is already over filled, anybody else is just gonna have to drive and visit me and grandma on the farm :P

Can you believe last time i was on the east coast i drove 18 hours to see nick's stupid sailing ships, haha past me was such a dumbass. Did he come visit LA in the past year like he promised? Nope. Am i surprised? Not really \o/ asshole.

#I'm protecting that one lone saturday night though #Like NO saturday after midnight is mine just me and the city like old times sorry <3 #Journal shit #I should probably admit that the sailing ships were WELL WORTH the 18 hr drive #the man probably not

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thatgirl4815 · 2 years

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re your tags about it only being monday/getting taken OUT by this show, HARD SAME!!! all last week i spent most of my time at work struggling not to think about this show and i feel like it's just gonna be worse this week 😭 i adore kinnporsche and i want more of their story but rn i am so utterly captivated by the vegaspete storyline and how well they're handling it (like it's still fucked up but boy howdy is it compelling). kimchay is also cute but i'm 29 so mostly i just wanna wrap chay in a blanket and make him some soup

YES thank you, I'm glad others are in the same boat, lol. My free time pretty much consists of Tumblr tag-surfing and re-watching the previous episode. And I am definitely with you: Kinn and Porsche are adorable and perfect, but until their storyline picks up my attention is on VegasPete. It's quite humorous actually, because until Ep10, I really didn't get the hype about VP. It seemed like a lot of people were onboard right away, but I just didn't get it?

I get it now. I don't know why or how, but I do.

And yes, Chay must be protected and sheltered from this awful mafia life. I love Jeff but Kim is getting on my nerves 😤 Boy needs to apologize ASAP.

#kinnporsche #kinnporsche the series #vegaspete #Can Saturday come faster please?#But also no because then we'll be that much closer to the final ep #Aghhhhhhhhhh #what’s even funnier is #I can rant about how toxic and immoral VegasPete’s relationship is #but I will sail that ship to the end of the Earth #how does that make sense you tell me #Pete needs to run #but if he runs I’ll be sad #so he needs to stay #such a dilemma we have here

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lalacliffthorne · 7 months

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Rhys is very strict when it comes to mandatory movie night at the flat. even in the face of a cold.

(*sighs contently* this idea was waiting in my drafts. a lovely anon reminded me of it, so it's only fair that it's next on the list of modern!batboys drabbles.)

There was a deep call of my name, and I sneezed.

The door to my room was pushed open, and when I raised my head, trying to keep my itchy, raw nose from twitching, Cassian appeared in the door, sending me an easy grin. "Evening, sweets."

I blinked at him, feeling another sneeze build in my chest. I must've been quite the sight, curled up in a hoodie Azriel had given me and I had not yet returned, buried under my blanket in my rumpled sheets, hair messy and nose probably red from all the sneezing, surrounded by an armada of used tissues.

When nothing happened, I cleared my throat and grinned weakly, my voice hoarse from coughing and slightly nasal when I mumbled: "Hi." Feeling my brows crunch, I stared at the bag in his hand. "What's that?"

"Rhys called earlier and said you were out of meds, so I went to get you some on my way back home." Cassian stepped over some clothes that were haphazardly thrown onto the floor, and I quickly held out my hand.

"No, no, don't, I don't - wanna get you sick."

Cassian just rolled his eyes good-naturedly and, completely ignoring the weak sound of protest I made, plopped onto the mattress, stretching out with a sigh and leaning against the headboard as he dropped the bag onto the blanket next to me.

Giving up on glaring at him, I leaned forward and pulled it towards me, sniffling lightly.

Something swelled and warmed under my ribs when I peaked into the bag and found not only medicine, but also tea, juice, a big family package of tissues, some chocolate -

Feeling my heart skip gently, I raised my head and felt emotion well in my chest, so much so, my voice was a bit thick when I stared at Cassian with crunched brows, feeling my bottom lip jut out as I sniffled. "Thank you."

Cassian smirked and winked at me. "You're welcome, sweets." He eyed the assortment of mugs on my nightstand next to him. "How are you feeling?"

"Like someone chewed me up and then spit me out again,", I grumbled, crunching my nose to suppress a sneeze and causing Cassian to grin.

"Hey."

I raised my head, and Rhys stuck his head into the room, frowning. "What are you doing?"

"Visiting the patient." Cassian sent him a toothy grin that widened when I hit him with a pillow, turning into a light smirk. "I think she's feeling better already."

I flipped him off.

Rhys grinned and opened the door wider to lean against the doorframe, raising an eyebrow. "Az should be back any moment, you two coming?"

I sniffled, frowning back at him. "Where?"

"The living room." Rhys squinted at me like he was questioning my sanity. "Does she have a fever?"

Cassian reached out, and I was too busy sniffling to slap his hand away when he pressed his palm against my forehead.

"Little warm, but I think that could just be my presence -" This time, the pillow hit him into the face, causing him to snort a deep laugh.

"Well, darling,", Rhys sent me a feline grin, "then you are not excused. It's Saturday." He winked easily. "Movie night."

Breathing out through my half clogged nose, I leaned my head against the wall, sending him a crooked grin. "I'm not sure that's a good idea. I really don't wanna get you guys sick."

Rhys smirked. "I hate to break it to you, love, but you've been sneezing for days; I think that ship has sailed. We either already got it or won't get it at all."

I squinted. "I'm - not sure that's how it works."

Rhys' lips curved, and he raised a brow.

Returning his twinkling stare for a moment, I then breathed out slowly in resignation, but something warmed in my chest as I felt my lips curve and grumbled: "Fine..."

Rhys sent me a wink. "Thank you."

I snuggled into my blanket, sniffling as I pouted a little. "Do I have to get up?"

Cassian raised his brows when Rhys narrowed his eyes in thought, the twinkle in his iris suddenly becoming brighter.

"Actually,", he pushed off the doorframe, "I don't think you do."

Looking up at him in confusion, I watched Rhys' violet eyes sparkle as he raised a brow at me. "Unless you have something against all of us camping out in here?"

"Uhm -", I blinked.

"You might wanna tidy up a little though." The curve of Rhys' lips became wicked as he raised his brows, and when I followed his gaze, my ears heated at the sight of the underwear hanging out of a drawer.

Hastily, I flipped Rhys the bird, only causing him to sent me a mischievous wink while Cassian's head tipped back as his shoulders shook with laughter.

"Fuck off,", I grumbled, lightly kicking his shin, and Rhys chuckled and sent me a wide grin.

"I don´t think any of us would be complaining, but -"

"Do you want movie night or do you want me to lock myself in here?!" I desperately tried to hold back a laugh as I stared at him exasperatedly, my nose itching, and laughing, Rhys turned around.

"Sorry, love."

"Tosser,", I grumbled, sniffling.

Rhys called for Cassian before sticking his head back into the room, sending me a cheeky grin. "There's chicken noodle soup in the kitchen."

I glared halfheartedly at him and pushed my blanket to the side, and Cassian rose, still shaking with chuckles, even as I launched a pillow at him.

Shaking my head and fighting the grin pushing onto my face, I slowly started to pick up the clothes strewn around the room, tossing them into the dirty laundry basket. Sniffling, I threw away all the used tissues before shaking out my blanket and picking up as many of the used cups I could carry. Taking them into the kitchen, I returned to get the rest, barely suppressing a sneeze as I passed Cassian who carried both his and Rhys' duvet into my room. Looking after him with a confused frown, I blinked before huffing and shrugging, turning around to trudge back into the kitchen.

Even with my clogged up nose, I could smell the hearty scent coming from the big pot on the stove, and my stomach grumbled.

Taking the ridiculously huge mugs Mor had gotten me for my last birthday out of the cabinet, I was just putting the kettle on when I heard the front door open and close.

My heart skipped softly at the sound of boots being kicked off and the zipper of a jacket, and when I looked over my shoulder, something tipped over in my chest when Azriel appeared in the doorway. The tip of his nose was a little pink from the cool wind as he ran a hand through his tousled hair, his shoulders shifting under his black hoodie, then he raised his head, and something dipped lightly in my chest when he stilled a little.

I raised a hand and waved.

Azriel's lips slowly tipped upwards, and his iris seemed to begin twinkling a little as he slowly stepped into the kitchen, eyes moving over my face.

"Hey."

His deep, low voice caused my heart to tumble. I tried to hold in the tickling sensation suddenly building in my nose and opened my mouth - only to crunch my face and sneeze loudly into my elbow.

There was a deep snort that sent warmth through me, followed by footsteps, then something brushed against my elbow, and when I raised my head, nose tingling and eyes a little watery, my heart dipped and swerved as Azriel suddenly towered over me.

"Guess that makes the question about whether you're feeling better unnecessary." His cheek was creasing as he grinned lightly down at me, his eyes twinkling as he reached out, carefully brushing a strand of hair to the side that had gotten caught in my lashes.

Somehow managing to ignore the tilting feeling in my chest, I made a face at him, and Azriel's lips curved. The golden spots in his iris were dancing as his gaze moved over my face, a strand of dark hair falling into his forehead, and my breath hitched a little as I stared up at him, his body so close I swore I felt the warmth radiating off of him.

Azriel blinked, then he crunched his brows a little. "Why was Rhys carrying the projector into your room?"

Half an hour later, I was snuggled up in my blankets again, pillows stuffed into my back, legs pulled in a little as I carefully blew away the steam rising from my big mug with chicken noodle soup. On my left, Rhys was buried under his blanket, the hood of his sweatshirt pulled over his head and violet eyes twinkling in the light of the projector I didn´t even know existed in our flat and that was humming softly at the foot of my bed, casting the opening credits onto the blank wall opposite of my bed.

A solid shoulder lightly pressed into mine, and my heart missed a beat, dipping and tilting.

Azriel was sitting on my right, long legs stretched out in front of him. The scent of his cologne was rising into my nose because of the proximity, and I could feel the warmth radiating from him. He had changed into sweatpants and a sweatshirt, his golden eyes bright, reflecting the light of the beamer. I could glimpse Cass on his other side, hair pulled back messily, arms folded comfortably over his chest and buried under his blanket.

The shadow of a crease formed in Azriel's cheek, then he turned his head, and my breath hitched when his warm breath brushed over my temple. Then his deep, low voice sounded right next to my ear in a soft mumble.

"You can keep that hoodie by the way."

My breath hitched; my eyes darting up quickly as I winced a little and opened my mouth to apologize sheepishly, but Azriel just huffed lightly and looked back ahead, the crease in his cheek deepening.

"It's okay." His lips curved a little. "It looks better on you anyway."

Staring up at him as something suddenly rose and fluttered wildly in my chest, I blinked, then I quickly turned my gaze back ahead. Biting down on the inside of my cheek to hold back the ridiculously bright smile trying to push onto my face, I snuggled deeper into the pillows, burying myself in Azriel's hoodie as I stared up at the images flashing over the wall. There was a steady, warm thrum under my ribs as I felt Azriel's shoulder press into mine, his solid body radiating warmth just like Rhys' on my other side, and my lips slowly curved into a soft, bright smile.

Then I crunched my nose to suppress a sneeze.

@azrielshadows1nger @waytoomanyteenagefeels @knmendiola @luvmoo @azriels-mate123 @bookishbroadwaybish @maybe-a-winchester @stayinglow-exploringworlds

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workersolidarity · 11 days

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🇬🇼 🚨

GUINEA BISSAU BENDS TO ISRAELI PRESSURE BY BLOCKING FREEDOM FLOTILLA

The "Freedom Flotilla" aiming to deliver desperately needed aid to starving civilians in Gaza, without the coordination or approval of the Israeli occupation, has been blocked from sailing by Guinea-Bissau officials on Saturday.

Organizers of the flotilla blamed Israeli pressure for the decision by Guinea-Bissau authorities to deny the Turkish humanitarian organization, IHH Humanitarian Relief Foundation, the use of two of its ships they'd planned on sailing hundreds of tonnes of aid to Gaza in.

The group said Guinea-Bissau authorities asked for "extraordinary requests" for detailed information on the planned trip, while Israeli security officials prepared plans for their expected arrival in the coming days.

Previously, a similar flotilla was organized in 2010 which set sail for Gaza from Antalya, Turkiye, during which the Israeli occupation forces raided the ship, killing 10 people and wounding 28 others.

#source

@WorkerSolidarityNews

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coochiequeens · 11 months

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"She lied to a military police officer down by a hospital ship, said she was going to interview nurses about the 'woman’s angle,' and they let her on, because, as she said, no one gave a hoot about the woman’s angle. It served as the perfect forged passport for her," said Somerville. She resorted to those measures because her husband, Ernest Hemingway, tried to take over her journalist career.

This Saturday, June 6, will be the 76th anniversary of D-Day, the battle that would come to represent the beginning of the end of World War II.

There was just one woman, a war correspondent, on the beaches at Normandy that day the allied forces liberated Western Europe from Nazi Germany: the singular Martha Gellhorn. Author Janet Somerville traces Gellhorn’s extraordinary life in her book Yours, For Probably Always: Martha Gellhorn’s Letters of Love and War.

"Since 1937, Martha had been a war correspondent for Collier’s magazine. She knew about the Allied invasion, that there was a plan to cover the Allied invasion of Normandy, and she was determined to cover that," Somerville said.

The problem was, her very famous husband at the time, Ernest Hemingway, pulled the rug out from under her professionally.

"Hemingway had gone to New York, introduced himself to her editor at Collier’s and said ‘I’ll be your war correspondent.’ And he took her accreditation papers. Which was a bit of a problem," said Somerville.

Each publication could send just one correspondent. But Gellhorn was resourceful and clever. She found herself passage on a munitions ship from New York that would get her to Europe. She was the only woman and the only civilian aboard that ship, which landed in Liverpool. Then, she just needed to get to Normandy.

Once on board the hospital ship, Gellhorn locked herself into a bathroom until they sailed. When the ship docked in Normandy, she waded ashore through waist-deep water with some of the medical officers.

"She became the only woman and the only war correspondent to be actually on the beaches at Normandy, evacuating the wounded."

Though she was there as a journalist to write about the event, she couldn’t help but tend to the wounded soldiers. She had an uncanny ability, Somerville says, to focus on what needed to be done. So when she saw that the wounded were hungry and thirsty, she set to work.

"She just took it in her stride and found somebody who could bring teapots to tip into their mouths,if they couldn't hold a glass. She just took charge and made sure that they got something," Somerville said.

She also managed to be one of many correspondents who wrote about D Day.

"The incredible thing about D-Day is that accredited correspondents produced 700,000 words of text, just about D-Day," Somerville said. "Martha was one of them. She had a piece called 'Over and Back' that Collier’s published."

Gellhorn went on to report into her old age, from all corners of the globe. She filed her last piece, about the murdered street children of Salvador, Brazil, more than 50 years after D-Day, when she was 87 years old.

Yours, For Probably Always: Martha Gellhorn’s Letters of Love and War, 1930-1949 by Janet Somerville is available at the link above, or wherever you buy your books.

#Women in history #Women in World War II #D-Day #women in journalism #Martha Gellhorn #janet Somerville #Yours #For Probably Always: Martha Gellhorn’s Letters of Love and War #Books by women #books about women #Fuck Ernest Hemingway

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zvaigzdelasas · 4 months

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The shipping giant Maersk indicated on Wednesday that after avoiding the Red Sea and the Suez Canal for about a week because of attacks on shipping it was again directing its vessels through the canal.

27 Dec 23

Houthi militants attacked a Maersk container vessel with missiles and small boats, prompting the company to pause all sailing through the Red Sea for 48 hours, Maersk said on Sunday.[...]

Maersk, one of the world's major cargo shippers, said on Sunday it would delay all transits through the area for 48 hours, after the Maersk Hangzhou was struck by a missile at around 1730 GMT on Saturday 55 nautical miles southwest of Al Hodeidah, Yemen. A U.S. warship shot down another two anti-ship ballistic missiles fired from Houthi-controlled areas in Yemen, according to the U.S. Central Command (CENTCOM). Later at around 0330 GMT on Sunday, the same ship was attacked by Houthi militants in four small boats. An attempt by the attackers to board the vessel was averted after its security team and helicopters from the USS Eisenhower and USS Gravely, responding to distress calls, returned fire, according to statements by Maersk and CENTCOM. The helicopters sank three of the militant boats, with no survivors, while the fourth boat fled the area, CENTCOM said in the statement

31 Dec 23

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starlitangels · 6 months

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Thanksgiving with the Greers

I hereby dedicate this fic to @frenchiefitzhere and her versions of Marie and Colm and their relationship because I like Frenchie's version better than canon. This takes place years ago, btw 2.0k words

Also. I frickin' started writing this like back in spring or summer. Idk what was up with my brain that it took me until last Saturday to actually finish it

—

Asher jolted as his phone started ringing. He scooped it up.

Incoming Call… Little Man Syndrome™

“Hey Milo,” Asher greeted, holding the phone up to his ear. “What’s up?”

“What’re ya doin’ for dinner tonight?” Milo asked.

“Leftover pizza and wings. Why?”

Over the connection, a long string of expletives met Asher’s ears. But not from Milo.

“Ma—Ma—don’t blow your top just yet,” Milo said placatingly, voice distant from the mic. Before getting closer. “Ash. You realize what today is right?”

“Uh… Thursday?”

“Which Thursday?” Milo prompted.

“Well, hell, Greer. I don’t know.”

He heard the impact of Milo smacking himself in the forehead. “Oh for the love of—” Milo was cut off by Marie swearing again. “Ma! I got this!”

“You’d better 'got this' young man or Asher is never gonna hear the end of it from me!” Marie snapped.

“Ash,” Milo said, level but clearly irritated. “Today is Thanksgiving.”

“Ohhh! Is that why David invited me to go to his dad’s house with him for dinner?”

“Presumably. Why didn’t you go?”

“I don’t know I just thought it was Thursday!”

“Only you could be so time-blind to forget a holiday like this,” Milo muttered. “Look—”

“Asher Reed Talbot, you get your ass to this house in one hour, ya hear?” Marie interrupted.

Milo sighed. “Ma, I was gonna do it the polite way. Like a gentleman. Like you taught me.”

Marie’s voice softened immediately. “I know, baby,” she said. Asher heard her kiss Milo’s hair. “But sometimes a boy needs a mother to kick him in the pants in the right direction.”

Milo chuckled. “Yes ma’am,” he said. “Anyway, Ash. I’d ask if you’d care to join us for Thanksgiving dinner but I think that ship has sailed.”

Asher laughed. “I think you’re right. I’ll be over in an hour,” he said. “What’s the dress code?”

“I don’t care if you show up in your underwear so long as you’re here,” Marie said, still sharp with exasperation. “No son of mine—of my friends’—is eatin’ leftover pizza and wings alone on Thanksgivin’ if I have anything to say about it!”

“And clearly you do,” Colm’s quieter voice added even more distant from Milo’s phone.

“Hush, you,” Marie said, a smile in her voice. “One hour, Asher!”

“Yes ma’am!” Asher agreed. “Do I need to bring anything?”

“Just yourself,” Colm supplied.

“Okay. Will do.”

“Bye,” Milo said.

“See ya soon.” He hung up and put the pizza box back in the fridge. Setting his phone down on the counter in the apartment, he rushed to his room.

Thanksgiving dinner had always been a business casual dinner at his house. Probably because Madelyn and her mate flew home for it every other year and his parents wanted to make an event of it. This was the first Thanksgiving they weren’t going to be home for, traveling somewhere in… Korea or somewhere.

And knowing Marie…

“Khakis and a polo should be fine,” Asher decided.

—

“HA!” Milo barked the second Asher slipped through the front door—not bothering to knock. The Shaw and Greer houses were second homes to him. He never knocked if the door was unlocked. Which it usually was. “Someone’s overdressed!”

Asher turned to see Milo in jeans and a T-shirt with a cartoon turkey on it.

Marie thwacked Milo upside the head gently with the back of the mixing spoon in her hand. “Well how ‘boutchu go dress to match him, huh?”

Milo rubbed the back of his head. “Wait—you serious?”

Marie fixed him with a look only a mother could give. “Very,” she said.

Milo sighed. “Fine. I will.” He cast a sidelong glance at Ash. “And I’ll look even better’n you in it.”

Asher snorted. “You can try.”

Milo stomped toward the hallway, flipping the bird over his shoulder.

“Milo Anthony Greer!” Marie warned.

Milo’s hand dropped immediately. “Sorry, Ma!” He scampered off for his room.

Asher sheepishly approached Marie. “Sorry I’m late,” he said. “I know you said an hour and it’s been an hour and fifteen—”

“And I knew you’d be late which is why I said an hour when dinner was an hour and a half away from bein’ finished.”

Asher chuckled. “Do you know everything?”

Marie smiled and cupped Asher’s cheek in one hand—the one not holding the mixing spoon. “Just my boys,” she said with a wink. “Now get those rolls in the oven for me then get the hell out of my kitchen.”

“Yes ma’am.” Asher ducked around her to assist immediately, knowing better than to hesitate.

Colm was in the living room. A replay of the big parade in New York was going on the TV, but Colm wasn’t watching it. He was reading from a sheaf of papers on the coffee table.

Asher cleared his throat. “Look, uh, Marie,” he started quietly, heat burning at his neck and ears. “I just. I wanted to thank you. For thinking of me tonight. And for… y’know. Inviting me.” He closed the oven door and took the mitt off. But didn’t straighten to his full height. His shoulders were slouched forward and his eyes were cast down to the hardwood floor.

Marie gave him a warm smile. “Asher,” she said fondly. “You are always welcome here, you got that? Now, I don’t care if it’s Thanksgiving or a random Monday in the middle of May. You are family. And there will always be a place for you at our table.”

Asher blinked away a sudden salty sting in his eyes. “Thanks Marie,” he said, trying to swallow the thickness of his voice from the emotion in his chest. “I appreciate that.”

Marie turned back to the gravy she’d been making. From scratch. Of course. Marie Greer would never dream of any other kind of gravy disgracing her kitchen. “I’m happy for your parents. Gettin’ the chance to travel like they always talked and dreamed about. And I respect their decision to do it while they’re still young enough to withstand how exhaustin’ it is.” Her mouth narrowed into a frown. “But that doesn’t mean I approve of all-a it.” Her warm grey eyes—the same as Milo’s—flicked over to him. “They didn’t need t’ leave you here alone.”

Asher shrugged. "They thought I was old enough to live without them."

"Livin' without your parents doesn't mean ya don't still need their influence or advice." Her voice had gone hard with disapproval.

"Hey, that's what I have you for!" Asher joked brightly.

Marie leveled a Look™ at him. "You're damn right," she said seriously.

Colm covered a scoff by clearing his throat in the other room. Marie turned her Look™ briefly toward her mate before going back to her gravy.

Asher slunk carefully out of the kitchen, managing to only knock a mixing spoon onto the ground—that he quickly put back—and not mess up anything else.

Milo was stalking back into the living room, sour look on his face, having changed into a polo shirt and khakis himself.

It was, of course, Asher's job in life to give Milo a hard time. They were brothers in all but blood. But Asher admitted—silently, to himself, never out loud—that Milo definitely pulled off a polo and khakis better than he did. Milo was one of those lucky suckers who looked good in everything. Asher was tall and leanly muscled, but being tall sometimes made things look too short on him.

Milo didn't have that problem.

"Hey. Hey Milo," Asher started.

"What?" Milo retorted.

"You've got somethin' on your face."

Milo raised a single, sarcastic eyebrow. Waiting.

"Yeah. Y'know, I think it's called sour grapes."

"Oh you—" Milo moved as though to take a swing at Asher. Who ducked with a laugh and dodged out of the way.

—

Marie looked through the archway between the living room and the kitchen, watching her boys goof off and chase each other around like they had since they were little. She smiled to herself as she took the gravy off the heat and turned off the stove. A quick check through the oven window revealed the rolls were coming along.

As they kept baking, she started moving everything she'd made from the cookware she'd finished them in, to a pretty crystal serving dish. Then took them, two at a time, to the dining room table.

The clearing of a throat announced that Colm had gotten up from looking at his case files to help her. She smiled at him. He kissed the side of her head and took the two dishes from her hands, letting her grab two more.

After taking the two dishes, Colm set the table. After letting his mate choose the most festive tablecloth.

She got the rolls out of the oven right as the timer went off and quickly got them out of the pan and into a little basket with a white cloth lining it.

"A'right boys!" Marie announced, whipping her apron off after wiping her hands on it one last time. "Wash your hands and sit your asses down at the table."

Milo and Asher both froze from where Milo had managed to yank Asher down to his eye level and get him in a headlock. Marie met both of their eyes in turn, a stern look on her face. Milo cleared his throat and let go of Asher's neck. Both of them straightened their shirts and bustled—still poking and prodding at one another—into the kitchen to wash their hands. "Yes, Ma," Milo said automatically.

They knew better than to protest.

Marie and Colm sat on one side of the table. The boys sat on the other.

Milo leaned over to Asher. "We do the stuff we're thankful for before we eat," he whispered. Asher nodded.

"I'll start," Colm said. "I'm grateful, this year, for patience. The patience that my family has shown me." He reached under the table and gave Marie's leg a squeeze. She did her best not to react as his hand slipped a little higher up her leg before sliding off back to Colm's side.

She cleared her throat. "I'm grateful for my family," she said. "I'm grateful for a mate who loves me and works hard for us. I'm grateful for a pack that welcomed us as family all those years ago and never once acted otherwise. I'm grateful for an amazing, strong, brave son who has every right to be as confident as he is. And I'm grateful for all his friends who have become his family. Because they're my family. And I'm grateful that Ash could join us tonight, so he could be with family on Thanksgivin'."

She pretended not to notice Asher wiping a tear off on his sleeve.

"A'ight. My turn," Milo said. "Welp. This year... I guess I'm grateful for... everythin' I've been able to do. I learned a lot of lessons this year, and all-a 'em were important and valuable." He turned to Asher.

Who cleared his throat. "I, uh... I'm grateful for a lot of stuff. I'm really grateful for the pack that I got to be raised in. I'm grateful that David somehow has the patience to be my roommate. I'm grateful that I haven't burnt the apartment building down yet. And... I'm grateful for the Greer family. For being willing to accept me into your home on a holiday that's stressful enough as it is. Whether I wanted to come over or not." He smiled around a chuckle. "Thank you, for always making me feel welcome and at home." He swallowed. "Now can we please eat? I'm hungry!"

Colm and Milo both started laughing along with Asher. Marie just met his eyes with a loving look on her face. Sure, Ash was Frank and his mate's kid. But Ash was Marie's kid too. He certainly was now that the Talbots were traveling, but she'd loved him like a son since he and Milo had been close friends.

He gave her a grateful smile. She returned it.

"Go ahead an' dish up before it gets cold, boys," she said.

"Thank you," Milo said, reaching for the mashed potatoes.

—

General Shaw Pack and Characters Tag list: @zozo-01 @thegoldenlittlerose @pinksparkl @darlin-collins @icedunderwaterroom

#redacted asmr #fic #Redacted Asher #Redacted Milo #Redacted Marie #Redacted Colm #Redacted Audio #Starlit Fic

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noahvember · 7 months

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Noahvember Week

It's here! The moment you've been waiting for! We're excited to finally announce our prompt list for Noahvember. Please read below for more details about the event. Without further ado...

Noahvember will be held from Nov. 12th to Nov. 18th. Submissions will only be reblogged during this time, but you're more than welcome to post entries after the event!

Onto the prompts! You voted, and here's what we have to say!

Sunday, Nov. 12th | Slice of Life Sunday Glasses / Sickfic / Family & Siblings

Monday, Nov. 13th | Alternate Universes Assistant Noah / College AU / Vampires

Tuesday, Nov. 14th | Teamwork Tuesday Team Escope / Team Chris is Really (x4) Hot / Reality TV Pros.

Wednesday, Nov. 15th | Around the World Wednesday Total Drama World Tour / I See London... / Eel Pond

Thursday, Nov. 16th | The Ship Has Sailed! 🚢 Soulmates / Fake Dating / Personality or Role Swap

Friday, Nov. 17th | Canon Divergence Finalist Noah / Playa Des Losers / TD Reunion

Saturday, Nov. 18th | All About Noah Free day!

There's three prompts per day to choose from (with the exception of Saturday) leaving eighteen prompts to pick and choose from! It's up to you! Pick one of the three for the day, or if you're feeling crazy, combine all three! Throughout the weeks leading up to the event, we'll be breaking some of the prompts down to help you find inspiration.

Remember to tag your works with #noahvember and #noahvember2023. Works can be posted here or other social media sites. An AO3 Collection will be added shortly if you'd like to submit your works there as well.

Friendly reminder for no NFSW! Ship-related works are more than welcome. Place the focus on Noah! You can read our FAQ here for more information. If you have any other questions, feel free to submit to our inbox!

Thanks to everyone who's participated in our Google Forms! Spread the word! We are so excited for Noahvember to begin!

#noahvember2023 #noahvember #td noah #total drama #tdi #alenoah #nemma #noco #nowen #total drama noah #fanfiction #fanart #fandom event #noahvember faq

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boatmediatourney · 7 months

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🚢Boat Song Lineup & Links🚢

*links are on the boat emojis. most of the artists listed are specific to the linked versions, and many are folk songs with no single or known author. all the links are youtube links.*

🚢 32 Down on the Robert MacKenzie (Due South), Paul Gross

🚢 A Pirate Looks at 40, Jimmy Buffett

🚢 A Sailboat in the Moonlight, Billie Holliday

🚢 The Ballad of Gilligan's Isle (theme song)

🚢 The Ballad of Harbo and Samuelson, Shanghaied on the Willamette

🚢 The Bonnie Ship the Diamond, The Corries

🚢 Bluenose, Stan Rogers

🚢 Boat on the River, Styx

🚢 Canadee-i-o, Nic Jones

🚢 Come Sail Away, Styx

🚢 Day-O (Banana Boat Song), Harry Belafonte

🚢 Friggin in the Riggin, The Sex Pistols

🚢 Ghosts of Cape Horn, Gordon Lightfoot

🚢 Go to Sea No More, The Dubliners

🚢 The Good Ship Kangaroo, Planxty

🚢 Hard on the Beach Oar, Johnny Collins

🚢 Haul Away Joe, The Eskies

🚢 Highwayman, The Highwaymen

🚢 I'm on a Boat, The Lonely Island

🚢 I'm Shipping up to Boston, The Dropkick Murphys

🚢 James Craig, The Maritime Crew

🚢 The Last Bristolian Pirate, The Longest Johns

🚢 Leave Her, Johnny, Leave Her, Coda

🚢 The Leaving of Liverpool, The Dubliners

🚢 The Little Boat, The Wiggles

🚢 Lord Franklin, Pentangle

🚢 Lowlands Away, The Corries

🚢 Lukey, Great Big Sea

🚢 The Mariner's Revenge, The Decemberists

🚢 Marie Christine, Gordon Lightfoot

🚢 The Mary Ellen Carter, Stan Rogers

🚢 Mingulay Boat Song, The Corries

🚢 Mr. Andrews' Vision ("Titanic: A New Musical"), Maury Yeston

🚢 The Mistress, Dramtreeo

🚢 My Sails Are Set (One Piece live action)

🚢 Orinoco Flow, Enya

🚢 Overture/Prologue/The Launching ("Titanic: A New Musical"), Maury Yeston

🚢 The Pacific, Dave Malloy

🚢 The Pirates Who Don't Do Anything (Veggie Tales)

🚢 Proud Mary, Ike and Tina Turner

🚢 Race to be King, Seth Lakeman

🚢 Rolling Down to Old Maui, Stan Rogers

🚢 Roll the Old Chariot (sea shanty)

🚢 Round the Cape, The Longest Johns

🚢 Row, Row, Row your Boat (nursery rhyme)

🚢 Running Down to Cuba, Colm McGuinness

🚢 Sailing, Christopher Cross

🚢 Sailor's Farewell (sea shanty)

🚢 Santiana, The Longest Johns

🚢 Santiano, Hugues Aufray

🚢 Saturday, Jonathan Eng and Stephanie Hladowski

🚢 Save the Whales!, Country Joe McDonald

🚢 Ship in a Bottle, Fin Argus

🚢 Ship of Fools, The Grateful Dead

🚢 Song for the Bowdoin, Larry Kaplan

🚢 Song of the Volga Boatmen, Soviet Army Chorus & Band

🚢 Son of a Son of a Sailor, Jimmy Buffett

🚢 South Australia, Johnny Collins

🚢 Tow Rope Girls, Daniel Kelly

🚢 The Wellerman (sea shanty), Nathan Evans

🚢 The Wild Cape Horn, Friends Of The Shipyard and Fisherman's Fayre

🚢 The Wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald, Gordon Lightfoot

🚢 Warlike Seamen, Jerry Bryant and Starboard Mess

#PLEASE let me know if any of the links are wrong or dead so i can update them #song tourney info #boat media tourney #long post

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hgejfmw-hgejhsf · 2 months

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WIP Wednesday!

Happy Wednesday, my loves! I haven't been as interactive today because I've been wildly busy packing and preparing to jet off on an adventure this weekend to try to meet that dude in the lovely banner that @indestructibleheart made for me. Asking kindly for all the prayers, good wishes, vibes, and manifestations you possibly can for me and for @thinkof-england as we try and make our literal dreams come true on Saturday. But I promise I will get to reading y'all's lovely words as soon as I'm able! I'm not done screaming at y'all! Not ever!

I want to thank the following incredible humans for the tags today: @adreamareads @duchessdepolignaca03 @suseagull04 @bigassbowlingballhead @england-would-fall @onthewaytosomewhere @captainjunglegym @magicandarchery @priincebutt @cha-melodius @songliili @getmehighonmagic @ninzied @wordsofhoneydew @itsmaybitheway @sparklepocalypse and @leaves-of-laurelin. Don't I have an amazing support system?! Look at all these people! I love each and every one of y'all.

As I said earlier, I haven't had much time this week, so I'm gonna peruse through At the end of a bar, chapter 4 for a little longer-than-normal snippet, I do believe.

It’s typical small talk for the majority of the meal, with Pez moaning wantonly after each bite and lamenting their mutual inability to cook anything more than toast, pointedly and loudly saying if I had someone around to make me fat and happy, I’d never leave bed with a wink at Henry, who’s silently wishing that the earth might open and swallow him whole. Alex is the one who politely - and with a hint of color in his cheeks that has Henry wanting to commission a painting dedicated to finding the precise shade of pink and giving it a name - redirects the conversation to how the two best mates came to meet. While Pez delivers a soliloquy to rival even the most animated of actors, complete with sweeping hand gestures and too-long pauses for dramatic effect, Henry watches Alex. Brown eyes sparkling with genuine curiosity, he leans forward with his chin in his hand, one elbow propped on the tabletop, and Henry’s stomach swoops at the sight. It certainly is not made any more tolerable by the presence of Alex’s foot, gently rubbing up and down Henry’s ankle beneath the table. Or Alex’s foot dragging up Henry’s leg, until he’s pressing against the inside of Henry’s knee. Or Alex’s foot pressing forward between Henry’s spread legs to rub against his– “Right,” Henry says, wincing at the sound of his chair scraping against the dining room floor. "I’m just going to take a quick shower.”

Still got some folks who I haven't seen go yet today, so tagging them behind the cut! And as always, an open tag for anyone else who wants it! Share your words with me and the world!

@affectionatelyrs @agame-writes @anincompletelist @barbiediaz @firenati0n @gayrootvegetable @guillermosfamiliar @happiness-of-the-pursuit @heybuddy-drabbles @inexplicablymine @junebugclaremontdiaz @kiwiana-writes @leojfitz @littlemisskittentoes @lizzie-bennetdarcy @msmarvelouswinchester @mulderscully @nocoastposts @notspecialbabe @rockyroadkylers @ships-to-sail @sophie1973 @ssmtskw @stereopticons @theprinceandagcd @typicalopposite @user-anakin @vanillahigh00 @violetbaudelaire-quagmire @whimsymanaged @zwiazdziarka

#wip wednesday #rwrb fic #rwrb fanfic #rwrb fanfiction #my fics #my wips #my writing #wip: at the end of a bar

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weird-an · 11 months

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It's Saturday and Steve just wants to get home. Every first Saturday of the month Steve has an appointment. To see his dad. The prison's visitor's center is white painted cement and squeaky chairs, but the conversation is way more uncomfortable.

He's listening to his dad's never-ending rant about the downfall of America and his stiff neck. Because, you know, pillow in prison aren't very comfortable.

The last ten minutes of the tirade are usually reserved for his dad telling him that he's wasting his life and that he's better not driving the company against the wall, like this ship hasn't sailed when a few million dollars got found on accounts overseas.

Steve leaves the prison with shaking hands and the same feeling that he got when he received a bunch of rejection letters for colleges he didn't even want to go to in the first place.

He doesn't get in his car. Leans against the door of the BMW and groans.

"You want a smoke? Looks like you need one." A guy around Steve's age holds out a pack of Marlboro Reds.

Steve stares at it for a second, somewhere between surprised and confused, then takes it.

"I'm tryin' to quit," he mumbles, but lets the guy light his cigarette with a silver zippo.

"Same here, amigo." The man grins at him. White teeth shining. He's got a blond mullet, red shirt unbuttoned so far that Steve can see a hint of his abs.

"I'm Steve."

Steve inhales the smoke. Has Dustin's voice in his ear, reminding him that smoking can kill him.

"Billy," Billy says, with a wink like they are at a bar and he's trying to buy Steve a drink.

"Did you visit someone, too?" he asks, more out of politeness and maybe also a little because he's curious.

"My old man." Billy blows smoke in the direction of the prison.

"Me too." Steve murmurs. It's some form of camaraderie, he guesses. It feels like it. He knew on a rational level that other people's fathers are in prison, but he never talked to anyone.

"He's in for tax fraud."

It's not a secret. It has been in the papers. The whole world knows about it. Arthur Harrington, Harrington's Steel Works, a dirty office affair - not only with his secretary.

Billy's intense gaze wanders to Steve's Burberry shirt. "Guessed so."

"And yours?"

Billy seems to think about his question.

"Physical assault," he says quietly.

Steve doesn't know what to say. It's obviously not the same. He can't read the expression on Billy's face, his furrowed brow when he sucks on his cigarette again.

"Dads suck," Steve says lamely.

"Amen to that." Billy laughs, a bitter, sharp sound. "I'm goin' to get so wasted tonight."

"Do you need company?" Steve asks. A beer sounds great. Forgetting sounds even better - and they've got something in common. Maybe that says more about Steve's loneliness than about Billy. But still.

"No." Billy's smile is wide. His red tongue traces the frontline of his teeth. Like he's really hungry. "But I don't mind it."

#just an idea #i played with it for a while #but I'm scared because I don't wanna research prisons in the us in the 80s and all I know comes from oitnb #then again it could be an au #harringrove #harringrove ficlet #billy x steve #steve x billy #harringrove au

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indestructibleheart · 11 days

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I was tagged by the incredible @cricketnationrise, @ninzied, @cha-melodius, @kiwiana-writes, @hgejfmw-hgejhsf and @stellarm this week. Thank you, beloveds!

Like my Inspiration Saturday for this same fic yesterday, this is one of those things that you will know if you know... You know?

Here are several sentences I wrote yesterday:

"Well, thanks for getting David out of me." Nora pulls a band from her wrist and wraps her curls into a bun atop her head; a few too-short ringlets slip from her fingers and fall to frame her face. "Too bad you can't do anything about the taste of raw fish inside my mouth." Alex blinks several times, long lashes fluttering like those of a baffled cartoon. "Wait," he says flatly. "You're telling me that the horrifying and powerful demon that was possessing you… is named… David?" "Mmm-hm." Nora grins crookedly and tucks her hair behind her ear. "Menacing, right?" "Yeah, I'm quaking in my boots, sweetheart." Alex snorts. "What, was he your fucking tax attorney, too?" Nora laughs loudly in response, the force of it throwing her head back. Henry turns to the file in his hand, trying to ignore the clench in his stomach as Alex's gaze traces the length of her throat.

Tagging some lovelies under the cut. If you have not been tagged and you want to be, consider this your tag!

@anchoredarchangel, @cha-melodius, @firenati0n,

@guillermosfamiliar, @hgejfmw-hgejhsf, @hippolotamus,

@inexplicablymine, @itsmaybitheway, @jettestar,

@junebugclaremontdiaz, @lizzie-bennetdarcy, @missgeevious,

@mulderscully, @myheartalivewrites, @nontoxic-writes,

@notspecialbabe, @priincebutt, @rmd-writes,

@rosedavid, @three-drink-amy, @treluna4,

@vanillahigh00, @welcometololaland, @orchidscript,

@ships-to-sail, @stereopticons

#m:wip #wip:snippet #fic: you've haunted me so stunningly

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thealogie · 6 months

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I'm sorry but I'm about to treat your ask box like a confessional.

You kind of deserve it, though, because due to your Sherlock rewatch posts I've been forced to remember that 1. Sherlock is a show that exists and 2. that I wrote Sherlock fanfic when I was 13... about SHERLOCK and MOLLY.

In my defence, I was a deeply deeply deeply repressed bisexual who hadn't realized it yet - so all of the obvious and insane gay stuff between Sherlock and John just completely sailed over my head. Also propaganda worked really well on me as a child - so basically I was the ideal viewer for Moftiss lol. There'd be scenes where people mistook Sherlock and John for a couple and I'd go 'huh that's kind of strange that keeps happening' but then it would be played off as a joke and I'd go 'oh yes of course, silly me! Gay people only exist as the punchline! Sherlock and John would NEVER be interested in each other that way. I can't believe anyone would ever think that haha.'

Flash forward to 2017. I'm 17 years old. I've kissed other women by now and have had my brain chemistry rewritten by copious amounts of slash fanfiction. Still young, but wiser to the ways of the world than I once was. The last time I watched Sherlock, I had been 14 years old. Sherlock season 4 airs. I watch it with my mom. It's so bad my brain immediately initiates a trauma response and wipes all memory of Sherlock away. This continues for years. The only times I remember Sherlock exists is whenever I joyfully watch hbomerguy's Sherlock Is Garbage video while I'm knitting or painting or something. Also whenever I have to type in a password for an account I made when I was 13 - because my go-to password was 'SHERLOCKED' back then, unfortunately.

Flash forward to now. I'm 24 years old. And I start seeing your posts about Sherlock. Like a sleeper agent, it awakens something in me. Yesterday, I spent a perfectly good Saturday - one I could have spent doing literally anything else - reading Johnlock fanfiction. I am suddenly re experiencing the show through new eyes, seeing all the queerbait I never did before. Getting hate-crimed on the daily. I'm thinking about Sherlock at work, at my adult fucking job. I'm watching scenes from the show on youtube in my office, quickly and guiltily clicking away whenever a coworker comes to chat. I am considering doing my own rewatch. I am realizing for the first time that John and Sherlock were literally in love. It's the only lens through which you can view the show and still have it be somewhat enjoyable. They literally put Mary in a wedding dress shooting Sherlock in his mind palace on TV. I feel like I'm having a religious experience, I feel like I'm insane, I feel like I'm 13 again. This is all vaguely November 5th-ish for me lol.

Anyway. I just thought you should know the impact your rewatch is having on the population. Sorry for the novel in your inbox. I've been desperately trying to find my old Sherlock x Molly fanfic to read for the lols but I think I deleted it off ffnet. I am both having the time of my life while also desperately hoping I forget Sherlock ever existed again soon. So, basically - thank you/curse you for this.

This is perhaps the best ask I’ve ever received?? I converted a sherlolly shipper in the year 2023? Listen I’d never wish a season 4 rewatch on anyone but I would highly recommend watching s1-2 and the wedding episode for a truly out of body experience. I felt more strongly about this show/ship than any other in my life and it was STILL worse than I remembered

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kpopfanfictrash · 2 years

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Love to Hate (Ch. 8)

Author: kpopfanfictrash

Genre: Fuck Buddies / Enemies to Lovers

Pairing: Jungkook / Reader

Synopsis: Born with a silver spoon in your mouth, you've done your best to rid yourself of the taste since you were old enough to walk. Occasionally though, your mother manages to rope you into an obligatory function – or a blind date with playboy billionaire, Jeon Jungkook. Jungkook stands for everything you loathe about the world you left behind, but you can’t deny the spark of attraction between you. Intrigued by the promise of mutual satisfaction, you agree to one night in bed… and quickly realize you’re in far, far deeper than you ever intended.

Rating: 18+ (not an explicit chapter)

Warnings: mentions of cheating (past)

Word Count: 10,561

“I don’t have to point out the irony, do I?” Hoseok shouts to be heard over the wind. “The fact that you’re terrified of open water, but run an organization dedicated to saving the ocean?”

“Nope,” you say, gripping the rope like a lifeline. “No need to point out the obvious.”

Hoseok grins. “Anytime,” he laughs, stepping onto the yacht.

Determinedly, you stare at the gangplank before you. You can do this, you reason. People walk onto boats every day and walk off them, alive. There’s no reason you would be the one to trip, fall into the ocean and be devoured by a shark. Or worse.

Shit. Now you’re thinking about what worse would be.

When Olya suggested this meeting, you agreed without really listening to the particulars. The particulars were important though, since they involved meeting Doug Johnson – reticent mayor of Marine Cove himself – onboard a yacht owned by one of Seokjin’s friends. A meeting during which you’ll be setting sail for several hours.

On the open ocean. Alone.

Most likely, you’ll die.

At least today will be a distraction, you think, gingerly placing a foot on the gangplank. After the events of the past week, you’ve done everything short of flinging yourself into the sun to distance your thoughts from Jungkook.

Forcing your concentration, you run the last several steps to enter the ship. Catching your breath, you turn and find Hoseok looking bemused.

Casual, he pushes his glasses up his nose. “Come on.” Hoseok turns. “Liam should be here any minute.”

Ah, yes – the other nerve-wracking part of today.

Marine Cove still hasn’t given a response about whether they’ll participate in your coastal ecosystem project. In a final effort, Hoseok suggested bringing Liam along. Marine Cove’s biggest worry is their main employer abandoning the town in retaliation. Hopefully, introducing Doug to Liam will remind Marine Cove there are other companies willing to work with Clean Ocean.

A promising idea, but one wreaking havoc on your sanity – what’s left of it, anyways. After your parents’ party on Saturday, you’re hanging on by a thread. First you introduced Liam to your parents way too soon and received their unfortunate approval, and then…

Well. And then.

Shutting out thoughts of Jungkook, you return to the problem at hand. Forcibly confronting your fear of open water might be the only thing planet capable of tearing your thoughts away from Jungkook.

At least only Hoseok saw your embarrassing entrance. He insisted on arriving a half-hour early to set up, resulting in no one seeing your struggle. By the time Olya and Liam get here, hopefully your motion sickness pills will have kicked in.

Beneath your feet, the boat gently rocks while you wait on the deck. Checking your phone, you see zero messages. Ignoring the way your heart pinches, you replace your phone as a man enters the stern.

“You must be Y/N and Hoseok,” he says with a grin.

Stepping forward, the sun’s rays light him as though they belong there. Blonde hair, tan skin, and an easy smile – the man could be an advertisement for surfing but for a steadiness which makes you trust him implicitly. Safely, you assume he must be the captain.

“Yes,” you say, shaking his outstretched hand. “And you must be… Noah?”

“At your service.” Finished with greetings, Noah steps back to lace both hands before him. “Would you like a tour of the vessel before heading upstairs? That’s where the table has been set up for your meeting.”

“Sure.” Hoseok cuts off your noise of protest. “That’d be great.”

Nodding, Noah turns and disappears down the hall.

You tug on Hoseok’s sleeve. “Didn’t you want to prepare for the meeting?” you hiss.

“This is preparing. Or don’t you want to know where the exits are?”

Hoseok has a point, so you nod and follow suit. The boat – yacht? Ship? –is beautiful, you have to admit. It belongs to one of Seokjin’s family friends and whatever he did to allow your use, you don’t want to know.

The interior is clean and white with bright wooden beams overhead. Having entered from the stern, you follow Noah through the interior to reach the bow. He points out several rooms as you pass – staff quarters, an equipment room, a game space and more.

You nod, slightly dazed when you come to a stop at a narrow staircase. At the top, the view frankly takes away your breath. Hoseok lets out a low whistle, climbing behind you.

“Damn,” he says, stopping to take in the view.

Ahead is the bow, waterproof cushions laid out for sunning. A steel ladder descends to the deck – one you won’t be using, you decide. The marina stretches beyond it, and past that lies the ocean in waves of pure blue. It hurts your eyes and, squinting at the brightness, you turn away.

Immediately you spot the table Noah mentioned – a small, four-person space set with paper, pens and assorted drinks and snacks.

Noticing your glance, Noah asks, “Will it be just you two today?”

“We’re expecting three more,” says Hoseok. “So, we need another chair.”

Taking this all in stride, Noah nods. “I’ll go and grab one. You two make yourselves at home.”

Once he’s gone, you look at Hoseok. “Three?”

“Mhm.” He nods. “I asked Olya to come.”

Pointedly not meeting your gaze, Hoseok pulls out a chair to sit at the table. Hiding a smile, you leisurely join.

“So,” you say, nonchalant. “Olya’s coming.”

“So. You’re scared of fish.”

Your smile vanishes. “I’m not scared of fish, Hobi. I want fish to live in a clean and safe environment. I just don’t think people give the ocean the respect it deserves!”

Lips twitching, Hoseok shakes his head. “It is pretty spectacular, I’ll admit,” he says, gazing around the deck.

“I know,” you agree. “When we’re docked, I appreciate it even more. I just wish we’d stay in the harbor today.”

“We are.” Hoseok closes his eyes. “I was fucking with you when I said we’d be at open sea.”

You gape for a moment before smacking him – hard – on one arm. Hoseok laughs and jerks upright, swatting right back. Before you can fully berate him, someone calls from below.

“Hello?” Liam’s voice drifts from the staircase. “Anyone here?”

“We’re up here,” you call back. “Hoseok and I are upstairs!”

Liam’s hair appears first, windswept and golden. His eyes crinkle as they emerge, revealing a smile when he clears the last steps. On the landing he pauses to take in your surroundings.

“Wow.” Liam whistles. “What does your friend do again?”

“It’s not his boat,” you say, rising from your chair. “But it is beautiful.”

Turning from the ocean, Liam’s gaze darkens when he sees you. “It’s not the only thing,” he agrees, dropping his voice so Hoseok won’t hear.

His words prompt butterflies in your stomach, the unmistakable pleasure of being complimented and – that’s it. Nothing beyond that. No sweaty palms, throbbing heart, or sudden speechlessness. Before you can adequately mask your disappointment, Hoseok jumps in.

“Should we go over the plan?” he asks. “Before Doug arrives.”

Retreating from you, Liam nods and gestures for you to sit first.

“Sure thing,” he says, and you rejoin the table.

Since Saturday, you’ve been in contact with Liam nearly every day. Nothing crazy, just a hey, how are you here and a goodnight text there. Your exchanges have been pleasant, if not exciting.

Which is a good thing, you remind yourself.

Liam is the exact opposite of crying alone in a hotel bathroom until you can breathe easily enough to pretend nothing happened.

Holding onto this, you glance upward and catch Hoseok watching. His brows furrow, and he stares a moment longer than necessary before Captain Noah returns.

“Ah, another one,” he says, setting down the fifth chair. Good-naturedly, Noah sticks out his hand for Liam to shake. “Apologies for not greeting you at the dock. Wanted to make sure everything was set up here.”

Half-rising, Liam offers a smile. “No problem at all,” he says, shaking hands. “Beautiful boat you have here.”

“Not mine.” Laughing a little, Noah withdraws. “But beautiful, all the same. I’ll head downstairs to greet the rest of your guests. Let me know if you need anything!”

“Thanks, Noah!” you call as he leaves.

Silence falls when he leaves, save for the wind off the ocean. A quick glance at Hoseok shows him texting someone, probably Olya.

“So.” Liam leans in. “Strategy?”

“Right,” you exhale.

Earlier, you printed out copies of Hoseok’s talking points. Accepting the paper you hand him, Liam quickly scans the page as Hoseok’s phone dings.

“That’s Olya,” he says, jumping up. “I’ll go get her.”

You have no time to protest before Hoseok disappears. Taking advantage of his absence, Liam leans forward until his knee presses to yours.

“So,” he says, his voice low. “I enjoyed meeting your family on Saturday.”

“Did you?” You blink, unable to mask your surprise. “That has to be my first time hearing that.”

“Granted” – Liam laughs – “those types of parties aren’t my thing, but it was nice to be introduced to people as your boyfriend.”

“Ah.” You hesitate. “You… really don’t need to worry about that. Jason tends to get carried away.”

“I didn’t mind,” Liam says, not hearing the subtext. “I liked when he said it.”

“Oh. Sure.”

Sinking a little, you ponder how best to fix this when Olya and Hoseok return. Pasting a smile over your face, you make room for Olya as Liam asks Hoseok a question.

While they’re talking, you can’t help but look at Liam.

It was strange, how Liam acted on Saturday – or rather, how he didn’t act. Since meeting, Liam has said he doesn’t belong in your parents’ world but from what you saw, Liam fits in better than you. Take now, for instance. His crisp, linen trousers and white shirt are ready-made for a yacht. You’re ninety percent sure you’ve seen your father wear the same get-up.

You’re so entrenched in these thoughts, you nearly miss the moment Doug arrives. Hoseok notices though, the legs of his chair scraping as he stands.

“Mr. Johnson,” he says brightly. “Please, have a seat.”

Scanning the table, Doug nods and places his briefcase on the floor. “Hello, everyone,” he says, seating himself beside you. “I know Hoseok and Y/N, but I don’t believe I’ve had the pleasure of meeting everyone else.”

“Liam Jessen.” Liam extends his hand. “CEO of Infinity Motors.”

Doug glances briefly at this, then back up. “I see.” His gaze cuts to Olya. “And you are?”

“Olya Cermak,” she supplies. “Head of Communication and Events for Clean Ocean.��

Doug nods, recognizing the name. “Pleasure to meet you.”

“Likewise.”

“Now that we’re all acquainted,” you say, jumping in. “Shall we get started?”

“Yes, let’s.” Doug nods. “I suppose I can tell you the city council has yet to come to a decision regarding our participation. It might be best if we withdraw until after the pilot.”

His words cause your heart to sink, though you try not to show it.

“That would be a shame.” Hoseok pushes up his glasses. “We invited Mr. Jessen so that you could talk. I know you’re concerned about how temporary closures might affect small businesses. As a business owner himself, Liam might be able to better explain the benefits of our programs.”

“That’s right,” Liam says confidently. “Infinity Motors has always–”

“You’re a big business, though.” Turning away, Doug cuts Liam off. “I fail to see how your experiences are relevant to brick-and-mortar stores with seasonal customers. Just one month’s loss of income could be enough to drive them out of business.”

Liam falters, glancing at you with a panicked expression. Doug has a point though and, as you realize this, even Hoseok falls silent. Your last-ditch effort might be dead in the water.

Except.

Doug’s speech would be more convincing if he hadn’t told you his greatest fear was that clothing corporation. Painting himself as the savior of small business is laying it on a bit thick. The moment you think this, Jungkook comes to mind, and you hear your conversation play back in your mind.

Are you talking about blackmail?

No. I’m talking about explaining their options.

Teeth gritted, you have a momentary debate before deciding to hell with it. Smoothing your expression, you lean back in your seat.

“Doug,” you respond, folding your hands together. “Let’s all be honest, okay? You’re having second thoughts about participating in Clean Ocean’s program because of threats from a certain clothing company – right?”

Doug is silent long enough to confirm your suspicions.

You nod, as though in agreement. “I suppose I can’t fault you for that. You’re only looking out for your town and that company is a major employer.”

“That’s… true,” he says slowly.

Brow furrowed, Doug continues to look at you skeptically. Clearly, he doesn’t trust you and for good reason. Hoseok gives you a similar look and silently, you will him to hold on.

“Ultimately, Clean Ocean can find another town to pilot with.” You shrug. “Hell, we already have two other cities lined up. There’s unfortunately no shortage of polluted cities. The main reason we thought of you was because of said clothing company.”

Although Doug remains silent, he appears to be listening.

Reaching out, you take another sip of your water. “I know it can be hard to divorce the short-term from long-term. Right now, this company is threatening to leave. In the long term though, your tourist numbers continue to dwindle. Those businesses you claim to care about won’t have sustainable profits to live off much longer. I can only imagine what they’ll think once they hear their city council passed on a coastal renovation project.”

Hearing this, Doug’s eyes widen.

“Is… that a threat?” he says, stunned.

“Of course not,” you say, keeping your expression neutral. “Merely an observation.”

“So, what then,” Doug blusters. “You’ll go over my head? Leak the news that we turned you down to the press?”

Hoseok makes a tsk-ing noise in the back of his throat.

“A news leak. No, no – nothing like that.” Doug’s momentary look of relief disappears when Hoseok continues, “It would be understandable though, if a lower-level employee accidentally published a release with our Head of Communications out of office. The one which lists Marine Cove as a program participant.”

Olya nods. “Terrible, but understandable. How can employees learn without making mistakes? Of course, it’d be embarrassing if Marine Cove needed to correct our materials. Explain how they turned down our offer.”

Looking slightly green, Doug glances between you. “The council won’t like this,” he warns.

He seems queasy enough for you to take pity. You know first-hand how companies like your parents’ operate. Setting down the water, you lean in.

“I meant what I said,” you tell him. “We can find another city to work with. The only reason I’m pressing is because I believe Marine Cove would benefit from this program. If you decide it’s not worth it – fine. All I’m doing is saying you have options if the council refuses to act in your town’s best interest.”

Something akin to hope rekindles in Doug’s gaze.

Relief seeps through you. That was a gamble, but you couldn’t help but notice Doug’s declinations always involve the city council. It sucks to be the messenger, especially when it’s for a cause you don’t believe in. Hopefully, your information helps Doug to push back.

Sensing you’ve outworn your welcome, you push back your chair.

“It might be worth asking,” you continue, “why the possibility of the public knowing the truth is so alarming to the council.”

Doug remains quiet, only looking up when Olya slides an envelope towards him.

“An invitation,” she says, standing as well. “For a pre-launch event this Friday. The launch party is next Saturday, but we’re holding a smaller gathering for investors and participants only. We hope to see you there.”

“Thank you,” Doug says, staring dazedly at the card.

Casting him a sympathetic look, Olya grabs her purse and turns away. Hoseok and Liam start to leave, the latter pausing at the top of the stairwell.

“Y/N, are you coming?” Liam asks.

You nod, although Doug still hasn’t moved. “In a minute,” you say, waving him onward. “You go ahead, and I’ll meet you downstairs.”

Liam departs.

You wait until his footsteps fade, wondering if he were someone else, would you have asked them to stay. As soon as you think this, you shake your head. There’s no point wondering what-ifs when you have a job to do.

“I’m not trying to be an asshole,” you say.

Doug gives a low laugh. “No?” he asks, looking up. “A happy coincidence, then.”

You ignore this. It’s nothing you haven’t heard before; all women in business have heard worse, especially when they need to be firm against men.

“I really do believe it’s for the best,” you continue. “I think you do, as well – despite what you said.”

Doug pauses, then stands and looks out at the ocean. “I know,” he says, shoulders drooping. “That’s what makes this so damned hard.”

Noticing he holds the Clean Ocean invitation, you decide to press on.

“The pre-launch party is more than just a gesture,” you offer. “Clean Ocean has a lot of investors. Infinity Motors is just one of them. If that clothing company does decide to leave…”

You trail off, allowing him to fill in the blanks. A moment passes, then Doug turns his head.

“Who knows?” you say as you move towards the staircase. “Maybe you’ll find another company to replace them.”

Doug doesn’t respond, and you emerge on the lower deck to blink in the sunlight. Hoseok and Liam stand ahead of you, quietly conversing against the railing. Olya is beside them, frantically typing something on her phone. When they hear your approach, all three of them look up.

“Hey.” Breaking away, Liam smiles. “All done?”

“Yep,” you say. “I –”

Doug appears behind you.

“Thank you all for the meeting. Mr. Jessen,” he adds, glancing at Liam. “I’ll be reaching out to you with questions about your Clean Ocean involvement.”

Liam blinks, recovering enough to nod. “I look forward to it.”

Pulling sunglasses from his pocket, Doug slips them on. “You can expect my final response on the subject by the weekend.”

Hoseok lifts a brow. “I’ll keep an eye out.”

Glancing your way, you think Doug almost smiles before striding away. You wait until he’s out of view before you release your breath. Even Hoseok sags slightly before he whirls around.

“That was not in the bullet-points,” he huffs.

“I know, I know,” you groan, slumping on the wall. “But Hobi, he completely shut us down. I had to change directions.”

“I know,” Hoseok says. “And it was a risk, but… damn, it paid off. Good job.” Smiling a little, he pulls out his phone. “I need to head to the office, but you should stick around. Celebrate. Maybe take Seokjin’s boat for a spin around the marina.”

You glare daggers at him and Hoseok smirks, knowing that’s the last thing you’d want. Liam doesn’t seem to notice, looking around in surprise.

“This is the Kim family boat?”

“No,” you correct. “Just someone he knows. And no thanks to the joyride, but I will say goodbye to Noah.”

“No need,” Hoseok says. “Olya said goodbye for all of us.”

Olya nods. “Yeah, he mentioned something about preparing lunch. Hoseok,” she says, turning around. “Can I get a ride to the office? This Friday caterer is giving my assistant the runaround. Don’t worry,” she adds, spotting you. “I’ve got it covered.”

“Yeah, sure,” Hoseok says, fishing for his keys.

Liam glances between you. “Will you be heading into the office as well, Y/N?”

“Oh.” You pause. “I – well, I was planning to.”

“Oh.” His face falls a little. “Right. I was kind of hoping we could grab lunch.”

Guilt flashes through you at his expression. You have a ton of work at the office, but it would be nice to get some fresh air – on land, of course. And you did say you’d give Liam a chance. That means going on things like day dates.

“Okay, sure,” you allow, glancing at Hoseok. “Can you move all my afternoon meetings?”

“Sure, yeah. I’ll text Jason to call you back tomorrow.”

Again, you smack Hoseok, prompting laughter from Olya. “Anyways,” you say loudly, turning to Liam. “Yes, I’m free for lunch.”

“Great.” He smiles. “I’m parked around the corner.”

Nodding, you retrace your steps to exit the gangway. As soon as you’re on solid ground, you exhale in relief. You have gotten better at being on the water. When you were young, your parents could barely bribe you to step foot on a boat. Now, you barely notice – apart from entering, exiting and the actual sailing.

Heading up the hill, you find Liam’s car parked beyond a meter. Hoseok and Olya keep going, waving and leaving the two of you alone.

“So,” you say, squinting at the sun. “Did you have a lunch place in mind?”

“I actually do,” Liam says. “There’s this sushi place I’ve been meaning to try that’s near here. Are you good with that?”

“Sure,” you agree. “Sushi is my favorite.”

“Perfect.” His grin widens. “This way, then.”

Opening the passenger door, Liam waits for you to settle. Once you’re both seated, you’re suddenly aware of how small the space is. Liam is tall – very tall, his head nearly brushing the moonroof above. His cologne fills the car, a rich scent you think Jason used to wear in high school.

“I do have a favor to ask,” says Liam, returning you to the present.

“Oh?” you ask as you buckle your seatbelt. “What’s that?”

When Liam extends his hand, you balk and wonder if he wants you to take it. He opens his palm to reveal an AUX cord.

“Will you DJ?” Liam laughs. “I have shit music taste, according to all my friends.”

A relieved smile breaks over your face.

“Of course,” you say, reaching for the cord. “But I’ve got to say, this is risky. I could have even worse taste than you do. My entire Spotify could be that one song from the Baha Men.”

“Can you move it like this?”

“I can,” you confirm, pressing play. “I can also shake it like that.”

Liam snorts, placing the car into drive. “I’ll take my chances.”

Selecting your LONG DRIVES NEAR THE BEACH playlist, you press play and the opening notes of a pop song fill the car. Liam’s windows are rolled partway down, the sounds of city and surf mixing with the singer’s voice.

The sushi place isn’t far, and you only make it two songs before you arrive. City parking elongates your trip another five, circling the block several times before finding a spot. By the time you reach the restaurant, it’s prime lunch hour.

Despite this, you’re led to a table with a view of the ocean. Taking a seat, you stretch your legs and glance around the place. The restaurant is mostly empty, which is odd – although you suppose it is a weekday. There are office buildings in this area though, usually with hungry lunch patrons.

Taking the seat across the table, Liam stretches his legs to grimace at the fit. You can’t help but laugh as you pick up the menu.

“We could’ve sat at the counter,” you tease him. “Give you more room.”

“No, no,” Liam sighs. “I’ve been this tall since high school. By now, I should be used to it.”

“Since high school – damn.”

“I was much smaller back then, though. Like a stretched-out string bean. I didn’t put on all these muscles until college.”

You peek at him over your menu and his lips twitch, amused.

“Are you looking?” Liam asks without glancing up. “Did it work?”

“It did,” you confirm with a laugh.

Despite the awkwardness on the boat, you’re beginning to enjoy yourself. Talking to Liam is easy, and if you don’t feel the kind of stomach-churning passion you feel in the presence of Jungkook, that isn’t necessarily a bad thing.

If this were a few months ago, you would’ve been satisfied. Liam’s presence is far better than Eric Main or any of your other dates. And if that were your only comparison, the thought would end there.

He isn’t though, and each time you look at him, you think about Jungkook. Your first date, the last time you spoke, and everything in between. Jungkook making ramen, meeting Dante, and conversing with Jimin. You hear him teasing, supporting and know that no matter how good Liam makes you feel, it’s not the same.

On Saturday, you thought that was what you wanted but now, you’re starting to doubt.

“What can I get you?”

The approach of your waiter drags you from unpleasant thoughts. Forcing a smile, you put down the menu.

“A bento box,” you say, picking the first thing you see. “Chef’s special.”

Nodding, the waiter turns to Liam.

“Make that two. And a glass of Chardonnay. Y/N?”

“Water for me,” you say, handing over your menu. “Thanks.”

Once the waiter disappears, Liam leans in. “I’m sorry I wasn’t able to help more with Doug,” he says, lips twisting. “If he does reach out, I promise to sing your praises.”

“Don’t worry about it,” you say. “It’s not your job to get people to join our programs – it’s ours.”

Liam nods as his white wine is set before him. Picking this up, he takes a deep sniff, tips the glass forward to check for sediment and finally, drinks. Nodding acceptance, Liam dismisses the waiter and sits back in his seat.

Dimly, you feel a shred of annoyance. Jungkook is an actual sommelier and you never once saw him do that.

“You were great though,” says Liam, continuing where you left off. “It was a good idea to leak their withdrawal to the press. Did you come up with the idea with Hoseok?”

His words make you pause, confused. Clearly, Liam wasn’t listening when Hoseok voiced his surprise. Neither did he read the briefing materials – if he had, Liam would’ve known a press leak wasn’t the plan.

“Well – no,” you say, and then stop.

You were about to credit the idea to Jungkook, but Liam doesn’t know how close you were.

Not that it should matter but still, you hesitate. Liam mentioned knowing Jungkook, and not in a good way. Jungkook hinted at similar bad blood between them. It doesn’t seem like a good idea to bring either up to the other.

“It just… came to me,” you say, forcing a smile. Quickly changing the subject, you glance around. “Guess the lunch crowd is a little slow today.”

Frowning your gaze, Liam follows. “Yeah, seems so.”

He doesn’t seem put off, unlike you. Maybe it’s your Type A personality; you hate wasting your time at subpar restaurants. Not that you vet every place before eating, but if you walk into a restaurant and it’s empty at peak hours, that’s typically not a good sign.

“Where did you hear about this place?” you press.

Liam takes another sip of his wine. “A guy from work. He took a distributor to lunch here and raved.” Brow furrowed, he adds, “If he turns out to be wrong, John is officially moved to the last seat at the conference table.”

You laugh, though the sound dies quickly when Liam doesn’t join. Apparently, that was a serious remark.

“Right,” you say. “Uh. You went to the same university as Jason, right?” you add, reaching for a new topic. “How did you like it?”

Liam’s expression relaxes. “Honestly, university was kind of a mixed experience for me. Most of my class grew up together, and I was always the outsider.”

Sympathetic, you nod. The fact that Jungkook, Jason and Liam all attended the same university speaks volumes for the type of institution it is.

“The way Jason tells it though, sounds like you were something of a legend,” you tease, hoping to coax a smile.

On cue, his cheek dimples appear. “I don’t know about that,” Liam laughs. “But I did graduate at the top of my class. Even went back for my MBA.”

“Is that so?”

“Yeah.” His teeth flash. “That’s where I met Jungkook, actually. You remember him, right? From your fundraiser? I’m a few years older than he is, but we attended at the same time.”

Although you nod, you shift uncomfortably. Yes, you remember Jungkook. If memory serves, you went home that night and promptly fell asleep after receiving a mind-blowing virtual orgasm from Jungkook.

Feeling your neck start to heat, you look away.

“Yes,” you manage to say. “I remember him.”

“We were close at university, but after the whole thing at his father’s company” – Liam waves a hand – “we lost touch. I haven’t been back to my university since.”

At this, your eyes narrow.

Call it a sixth sense, but you’ve always had a good instinct for what’s important. If Seokjin knows when you’re lying, you’re able to sift through his nonsense to discover what he really means. Something about Liam’s story isn’t adding up.

Tilting your head, you say, “You… haven’t been back to your university because of the Jeon family?”

Liam pauses, as though realizing he’s said something he shouldn’t. This, of course, only further stokes your interest.

“I – well, partly,” he says. “I know his family are donors, which means they’re close to the professors. After the internship, I wasn’t sure what they’d heard about me.”

“What happened at the internship?”

Again, Liam hesitates, and you lean forward despite yourself. Jungkook said Liam wasn’t a good guy but refused to say why. You’re tired of all the half-truths and lies – if Liam has something to say about Jungkook, you want to know.

“Liam,” you say, your patience slipping a little. “What happened with you and Jungkook?”

“I… don’t know what you mean.”

“I’m not blind. Something clearly happened between you. What was it?”

Liam exhales, then uncrosses his legs. “I just… don’t want to change your perception of him,” he admits, voice dropping. “You seemed friendly at the fundraiser, and I know your parents run in the same circle.”

“Well, we’re clearly not friendly enough for me to know what happened.”

This seems to land, since Liam finally nods.

“It’s stupid,” he admits. “Honestly, I feel embarrassed just telling you. But… like I said, Jungkook and I went to the same university. I was getting my MBA, but we both were part of the business club. It was through him I got my internship with Jeon Energy.”

“Right,” you respond. “I remember you saying it didn’t work out.”

Grimacing, Liam finishes his glass of wine. “Yeah, well… that’s not quite true. I liked Jeon Energy. Jungkook’s dad was a good boss – hands-on, super helpful and he seemed to like my work. I was going to accept their offer at the end of the summer, but …”

“But?”

“… but later, I found out Jungkook was upset by my offer. He got me the internship, but didn’t like how close I got to his dad. At the end of the summer, the company threw this giant party for the interns. I got absolutely wasted, accepting shots from all the managers. When I woke up the next morning, I had a bunch of missed calls. Apparently” – Liam’s face tightens – “my girlfriend was spotted at some club. Making out with Jungkook.”

You feel rooted to the spot. “She … he did what?”

“Hooked up with her,” Liam confirms. “Right in the middle of the dance floor. I got the message loud and clear, and declined the job offer.”

“I….” You falter, unable to think of a response. “I can’t imagine what that was like.”

Liam gives a half-shrug. “It was a long time ago. I try not to judge, because I know Jungkook doesn’t have the best relationship with his dad, but –”

“But he didn’t have to do that,” you interrupt. “There were a million ways he could’ve responded that weren’t hooking up with your girlfriend. Jungkook could've, oh, I don’t know – talked to you.”

Liam’s upper lip twitches. “Yeah, well. He was young.”

“We’re all young,” you say. “If Jungkook and his dad had issues, then that was their problem to work through. Sorry,” you add, catching Liam’s expression. “I just… don’t like cheating.”

“I get it.” He nods. “But it was so long ago, I can’t really be mad. Honestly, I should be thanking Jungkook for how things turned out.”

“Thanking him?”

Nodding, Liam reaches out and takes your hand in his. “If things hadn’t happened the way they did with Jeon Energy, I might have accepted their offer. Then I wouldn’t have joined Infinity Motors, become CEO, and I might never have met you.”

Your stomach twists, gaze dropping to where your hands lace together.

Liam keeps saying all the right things. Most women would kill for what you have; a guy grateful for his struggles because they brought him to you. The only problem is that Liam’s words bring a sense of expectation. Rather than be excited, you have the impression his feelings have strings attached. It leaves an unpleasant tint around the edge of his words.

Drawing back, Liam continues to talk but each word he says goes in one ear and out the other. No matter how hard you try and concentrate, all you can think of is Liam and Jungkook.

Jungkook helped Liam’s ex to cheat.

It’s not just the cheating. It’s the fact Jungkook did something so petty, so vindictive, it leaves your mind reeling. In fact, the story is so despicable that… you have trouble believing it.

You know – you know – you’re being naïve.

Objectively, the story sounds like something Jeon Jungkook, heir to Jeon Energy, would do. It sounds like the guy you thought Jungkook was before you knew him, the guy who exists for the tabloids and who thrives on rich people scandals. Not the Jungkook who made a special bedroom for guests and watches Ever After before bed in a desperate plea for romance.

Glancing away, you pick up your chopsticks and push Jungkook from mind. You suppose it doesn’t matter whether he did it or not. Jungkook isn’t your boyfriend – or even your friend.

Hardening yourself, you take a bite of sushi – and grimace. Across the table, Liam is doing the same. Eyes watering, he slowly sets his chopsticks down.

“I should have known,” he says. “Any sushi place recommended to me by a guy named John could never be great.”

“I’m sure it’s not that bad.”

Liam gives you a look. “Is sushi really the food you want to test your theory on?”

“On second thought,” you say, dropping the fish, “do they have karaage?”

Laughing a little, Liam flags down the waiter.

The chicken is better than the sushi, so you end up mostly full as the meal draws to a close. Liam grabs the check, leaving you shaking your head as you exit the restaurant.

“Okay, next time I’m paying,” you laugh. “I know men have this terrible need to be in control, but I promise I won’t think any less of you if I pay the bill.”

Pretending to be wounded, Liam clutches his chest. “But what about my ultra-fragile ego?”

“Tough.”

He laughs, holding the door open for you to step outside – until you turn, finding Liam hovering above.

He’s closer than you thought, his breath soft on your lips and the tension between you is taut as a wire. Even if you don’t feel as strongly, Liam is still attractive, and you’d be lying if you said you weren’t thinking about his mouth on yours.

“Liam…” you say.

“Yes?” he says, bending a little.

In response, you close your eyes and his lips brush against yours. Warmth courses through you as Liam releases the door, sliding an arm around your waist to pull you closer.

Shocked, your eyes open, and you’re met with the sight of the backs of his eyelids. This is all wrong, you panic.

In a moment, a flash goes off in your peripheral. Coldness spreads through your limbs, chasing away the warmth. Years of living with your parents taught you what that means.

Jerking away, Liam’s arm drops. His gaze cuts over your shoulder, landing on someone unseen in the bushes.

“We should go,” he murmurs. “Someone is watching.”

You nod, feeling slightly sick as you turn around. Another flash goes off and you wince, instinctively covering your face.

With an easy sort of laugh, Liam slips an arm around you to pull you closer. In another situation, the gesture might seem protective, but you can’t help but notice you remain exposed. If the paparazzi are still photographing – which is likely – they’ll get an excellent shot of Liam’s arm on your waist.

Twisting away, you step from his grasp and begin to walk faster.

“That’s enough,” Liam calls out, turning around. “You got your shot – go.”

Someone responds but you don’t hear them, heart pounding as you force your legs to continue. In the distance, horns honk and the breeze from the ocean stirs the hairs on your neck.

You make it nearly a block before Liam catches up.

“I’m sorry about that,” he pants. “I don’t know how they found us.”

“No?” you say, a bit sharper than intended.

You can’t help but overlay this moment with others, thick from your past. Dinners with family. When you broke up with Kameron. Launching Clean Ocean and the ensuing bad press. Camera flash after camera flash, coupled with rude headlines.

“I – no,” Liam says. There’s an earnestness to his voice you want to believe. “Really, Y/N. What are you saying?”

“I…” Slowing your steps, you look up and see his wounded expression. “Nothing,” you say at last. “I just don’t like being in the public eye, that’s all.”

Solemn, Liam nods and you look away. Slightly chagrined, you continue to walk in the direction of his car. Each step calms you enough to think.

Although you don’t know Liam that well, you also don’t know him well enough to distrust him. Even if he didn’t react how you would for the paparazzi, that’s not a bad thing. Liam didn’t grow up with all this. He doesn’t understand the terror of being chased by a strange man for unflattering photographs and an untruthful headline.

The remainder of your walk is silent, thoughts of the paparazzi clouding your mind. You’ve almost forgotten the kiss from earlier – almost, but not quite. Liam’s kiss only confirmed what you’ve been suspecting.

You don’t want this. You thought you might, but the idea of a relationship without love is as ridiculous as the idea of you dating Jungkook.

Reaching his car, Liam unlocks the doors. You buckle in as he enters, and once you’re both settled, Liam exhales.

“I feel like I messed this up,” he confesses, hands on the wheel. “I… I moved too fast with that kiss.”

Surprised, you glance sideways.

“No,” you insist. “No, that’s not it. Really.”

Liam gives you a wry smile. “Then, why haven’t we talked since the restaurant?”

“I – okay,” you say, facing forward. “Here’s the thing. I was kind of seeing someone else, and it recently ended.”

“Ah.”

“Yeah.” You look down. “I just don’t think I’m ready to see someone else.”

Liam exhales. “I get it.”

“You do?”

“Yeah.” Slowly, he shifts the car into drive. “I mean, I guess I should’ve known a woman as amazing as you couldn’t be single, right?”

“Right,” you respond.

Glancing away, you stifle a twinge of annoyance. You hate the narrative that only unpleasant women could be without a relationship. Not everyone desires or aspires to romance.

Liam glances at you. “Just so you know, though,” he says. “I do like you, Y/N. As more than just friends or co-workers. So, if you ever change your mind – I’m here.”

Again, you’re aware this is the type of confession which makes women swoon. Not you though, and you wonder if something inside you is broken. Maybe you only want what you can’t have.

“Thank you,” you say softly, and roll down the window.

You ride the rest of the way in silence, and Liam drops you off at your office with a promise to send over the paperwork to Hoseok. When he speeds away, you exhale and pull your phone from your pocket.

Seokjin’s name blinks across the top of your screen.

Seokjin: hey [2:14 PM]

Seokjin: I need you [2:15 PM]

Seokjin: -r help lol sorry, pressed send too soon [2:15 PM]

Seokjin: heh heh hope that didn’t get your hopes up [2:18 PM]

Rolling your eyes, you stop in the stairwell to text him back.

Y/N: Seokjin, I was the one who drove you to the ER after you took off-brand Viagra. Safe to safe any sexual spark between us is dead [2:31 PM]

Y/N: what do you want? [2:31 PM]

Seokjin’s response comes as you enter your office.

Seokjin: glad that you asked [2:35 PM]

Seokjin: I need you to come with me to dinner [2:35 PM]

Y/N: ………. what’s the catch? [2:36 PM]

Seokjin: what do you mean? Why does there have to be a catch? [2:37 PM]

Y/N: Seokjin, I’ve known you since we were in diapers. There’s always a catch [2:37 PM]

Seokjin: This time there’s not! One of our food reviewers just quit, so Conde needs me to step in to review some restaurant. It’s supposed to be good… free dinner… [2:39 PM]

Y/N: what restaurant? [2:40 PM]

Seokjin: idk, I’m supposed to get details soon. What do you say? You in? [2:41 PM]

Y/N: fine, fine, I’m in [2:41 PM]

Seokjin: you say this like free dinner at an amazing restaurant is torture. Pick you up around 7, ok? [2:43 PM]

Y/N: see you then [2:45 PM]

Exiting the thread, you take a seat at your desk and turn on your computer. While you wait for it to load, your gaze slowly drifts again to your cell phone.

An uncontrollable itch takes over and suddenly, you find yourself opening Instagram. For a few minutes, you scroll before giving in and typing the name you want.

Tapping your fingers, you wait for Jungkook’s page to load. It’s been nearly six hours since you allowed yourself to look and in that time – nothing. Releasing a breath you didn’t realize you held, you glance away.

Since Saturday, Jungkook seems to have disappeared. He posted a story on Sunday (you viewed it from Hoseok’s phone), but that’s all. Just a shot of Jungkook in his apartment watching the Ted Lasso finale. He posted a quote and a boomerang of him pretend-kicking a ball. That’s it. Since then, Jungkook’s profile has remained as empty as your text thread.

Exhaling out loud, you place your phone on the desk. Jungkook’s silence shouldn’t bother you as much as it does. As you said on Saturday, you’re over him. Easier said than done though, as your lunch with Liam proved.

At least work passes quickly, ironing details of the pre-launch party for Friday. Progress for the coastal ecosystem project is also coming along. Only Marine Cove’s participation remains a question mark – given the circumstances you should count this as a win. History has taught you many things can go wrong with a program launch.

The next time you look up, you swear and realize it’s close to six. Ripping the cord from your laptop, you toss everything in your purse and dash outside. Hoseok and Olya have already left, vanished an hour ago to check on Friday’s venue. Obviously, you’ve noticed their increased time spent together, but out of respect for Olya, have chosen to stay quiet.

For now.

At home, you take Dante on a walk and feed him his dinner. Standing in front of your closet, you frown. Seokjin not telling you the name of the restaurant means you’re flying blind. He doesn’t answer when you call him, forcing you to pick a dress which could double as casual with a sweater.

Slipping into heels as the clock strikes seven, you kiss Dante goodbye and drop him off at Jimin’s. Hurrying outside, you find Seokjin idling at the curb.

His car is something shiny and Italian with leather interiors, likely a lease from his corporate account. Opening the passenger side, you sit and quickly shut the door.

Lowering his expensive shades, Seokjin stares at your outfit. “A sweater?” he says, voice full of derision. “Honestly, Y/N, we’re not going to a drive-thru.”

Removing the sweater and tossing this in the backseat, you give Seokjin your best withering glance.

“How was I supposed to know the dress code?” you complain as he pulls away. “All you told me was ‘restaurant.’ That could mean Michelin star, or it could mean a dive. I had to dress for both occasions!”

“Michelin,” says Seokjin, putting on his blinker. “They just earned their first star. Some new chef who changed their entire menu.”

“Mm,” you say, rolling down the window. “What restaurant?”

“Chez Moi, Chez Toi.”

Your fingers freeze as slowly, you turn your head. Oblivious to your predicament, Seokjin hums beneath his breath to a song on the stereo. He makes it several obnoxious bars before noticing your stare.

“What?” He turns down the music. “What’s wrong?”

“Chez Moi, Chez Toi,” you say through gritted teeth. “Does their chef happen to be Min Yoongi?”

“Yeah.” Seokjin blinks. “I think so. Why?”

“You mean, Jeon Jungkook’s close friend, Min Yoongi?”

Now, Seokjin is the one staring at you in horror.

“… shit.”

“Ugh,” you groan, sinking further in your seat. “Okay, well, that’s it. Turn back around and drive me home. I’ll stay in.”

“No can do,” Seokjin says. “If I turn around now, I’ll miss my reservation. I need to get a review to my editor tonight.”

“Well, then drop me off at the restaurant next door. I’ll hang out there and meet you after.”

Seokjin rolls his eyes. “Don’t be dramatic, Y/N. I doubt we’ll even see Yoongi – and what does it matter if we do?”

“I– it matters,” you say, jaw snapping shut.

Seokjin gives you a look. “Come on,” he groans. “Don’t make me eat alone. How sad and pathetic would that be?”

“I eat alone all the time, Seokjin.”

He raises a brow.

A small laugh escapes you, unwilling. “Okay, fine – point taken. I’ll go. But we’re eating really fast – in and out. No appetizers.”

“No appetizers?”

“Okay, one appetizer,” you amend, remembering the buffalo chicken spring rolls Yoongi made for your fundraiser. “But just one cocktail!”

“Deal.” Seokjin turns on his blinker. “I’m driving, anyway.”

Grumbling lowly, you turn up the stereo. It’s a short drive downtown but Seokjin is right – city traffic means you arrive with only five minutes to spare. Parking as fast as he can, Seokjin exits the car and gallantly offers an arm to help you in heels.

The host must think you’re on a date since she brings you to a romantic table near the window. You keep your gaze steady on her back, refusing to look around the restaurant. Panic suddenly flares as you sit, and you chance a quick glance around to ensure Jungkook isn’t here.

He’s not and, exhaling deeply, you face forward. Seokjin watches you with an expression that says he sees far too much.

Ignoring this, you pick up the menu. “So,” you say loudly. “What are you thinking?”

“For food?”

“And for drinks.”

You clutch the menu, certain Seokjin is going to pry but for once, he chooses to let it go.

“Hm.” He scans the pages. “Conde Nast sent me a bunch of dishes to try, so why don’t we start there?”

You nod, about to respond when your waiter arrives.

Not the same one as your date, prompting further relief. In the corner of your eye, you can see the table you sat at with Jungkook. For a moment, your past self seems to overlap with the present, prompting an unbidden memory. You remember someone photographing you that night as well, but Jungkook sprang into action and led you out the back way. Unlike Liam.

Unease prickles your neck, and you wonder if photos from the paparazzi have leaked by now.

“Hello!” says the waiter brightly. “Welcome to Chez Moi, Chez Toi. Is tonight your first time dining with us?”

“Yes.” Seokjin lays down his menu. “But I’ve heard good things.”

“Well, I certainly hope we live up to them.” He smiles. “There are a lot of great options on the menu. I’m more than happy to point you towards some of my favorites.”

Seokjin shakes his head. “That won’t be necessary. Y/N,” he says, glancing your way. “Have a drink in mind?”

“Before you do that,” says the waiter.

Both you and Seokjin look at him, brows raised.

“Apologies,” he says, cheeks slightly flushed, “but I do want to point out the wine pairings noted next to each dish. Chef Min recommends ordering smaller portions of each drink to pair with the dishes you try.”

“Interesting,” Seokjin says. “Why don’t you give us a minute to decide on our food, then?”

“Of course. I’ll be back in five.”

With a nod, the waiter disappears, leaving you alone.

“Why did you send him away?” you ask. “You already know what dishes we want.”

“Right, but he can’t know that.” Seokjin opens the menu with a snap. “I’m supposed to seem like any other unbiased customer.”

“Yeah, sure. An unbiased customer with an Hermes belt.”

“Par for the course here.”

Seokjin’s not wrong, you think as you scan the restaurant. Honestly, you’re surprised to see so many faces from your parents’ circle. You were too distracted that first night to appreciate the food, but from what you remember, it was delicious and although Yoongi has a Michelin star, he’s been very vocal about striving to make his menu accessible.

This was explained by Olya before your last fundraiser – although at the time, it was in one ear and out the other. Her taste has always been impeccable, so you rarely feel the need to weigh in.

Exactly five minutes pass by, and your waiter appears to take your order. Once he retreats again, you sink in your seat and take a sip of water.

Seokjin clears his throat. “So.”

You frown. “So?”

His brows lift. “Are you really going to make me say it?”

“Say what?”

Seokjin sighs. “You’re going to make me say it. She’s going to make me say it,” he mutters to no one.

You glance around the restaurant. “Who are you talking to?”

“What happened with you and Jungkook?”

Startled, you blink, unaware you had been so obvious. Then again – you suppose you did ask Seokjin to drop you off rather than eat at a place where Jungkook’s friend works. Exhaling softly, you sink back in your seat.

“It didn’t work out,” you say quietly. “I tried to tell Jungkook how I felt, and he said he has feelings for someone else.”

Whatever he thought you were about to say, it wasn’t that.

“He – seriously?” Seokjin gapes.

“There’s no need to look so surprised,” you huff. “I’ve been wrong before. I mean – not often, I guess, but it happens.” When Seokjin’s brows furrow further, you exhale. “It’s for the best. Better than finding out his feelings later.”

“I… guess.” Seokjin considers. “And Jungkook didn’t say who he has feelings for?”

“No,” you mutter. “And I don’t want to know. It’s better this way.”

“… is it?”

“It is,” you say, adding steel to your voice. “How would knowing that make me feel better?”

“I don’t know. Closure?”

A puff of air escapes. “Overrated. All I need to know is Jungkook doesn’t want to hook up anymore. Case closed.”

Again, Seokjin scans you with his truth-seeking gaze. After a moment, he reluctantly nods. “I guess you’re right. To be honest, the whole thing seemed unlike you from the start.”

“How so?” you ask, stifling a prickle of defensiveness.

Seokjin is saved from an answer by your waiter’s return, bringing with him an appetizer and the first round of drinks. You sample the dish, nearly swooning at the taste. Equally impressed, Seokjin jots down notes in his phone.

When he’s done, he looks up.

“I mean – fuck buddies?” Reaching out, Seokjin takes a sip of his wine. “No offense, Y/N, but casual is hardly the word I’d use to describe you. Militant, sure. Passionate, yes. Good odds of winning on a survival TV show, absolutely. But casual?” He snorts. “No.”

“First off,” you say. “I would never go on a reality show. Second – militant, Seokjin? Really?”

“All I’m saying is the words, ‘casual relationship,’ wouldn’t be on my Y/N BINGO card. Especially not with someone like Jungkook.”

“He’s not a bad guy,” you respond, automatic.

Seokjin’s brows lift.

Stifling an eye roll, you smooth down your napkin. Truthfully, you don’t know why you’re arguing with Seokjin. Jungkook ended things after fucking you in a closet, not to mention the story you heard from Liam. Neither paint Jungkook in a shining light and yet, you can’t help but rebel against what Seokjin is saying.

Maybe Jungkook isn’t wholly good, but he’s not bad, either. A bad person wouldn’t send their date home to take care of their drunk friend. They wouldn’t automatically be loved by your picky dog. They wouldn’t offer you rides, walk you to your door or offer you pleasure on whatever terms you want it.

“I mean…” A heaviness settles deep in your chest. “In some ways, you’re right. From the outside, the situation doesn’t look good.”

“And yet…”

Although Seokjin is prompting, there’s no judgment to his gaze. Possibly this is what makes you continue.

“I don’t know,” you admit. “I mean – I know what some people say about Jungkook and sometimes he’s like that. Yeah, he sleeps around. Yeah, he works for the anti-Christ and sure, he can be arrogant but… he’s other things, too.”

Looking down, you fiddle with the edge of your napkin.

Seokjin can always tell what you’re thinking and right now, you’re sure your emotions are written all over your face. You like Jungkook. You like him, and it hurts more than you admit that he let you go.

Maybe if you had been honest earlier, Jungkook wouldn’t have fallen for someone else. Maybe if you’d mustered the courage to tell him – but no. It’s pointless to wonder what-if. The only situation you have is the one before you.

Rather than chide you for your naiveté, Seokjin just nods and sips his wine. Curious, you watch him drink; you’re well-aware Seokjin is rarely quiet without reason.

“You know…” He lowers his glass. “You’re not the first person I’ve heard say that about Jeon.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well.” Seokjin frowns. “I’ve heard other people say that he’s different in person. That his whole reputation is a front. Kind of.” He pauses. “People say Jungkook used to be like that, but not anymore.”

“Why? What do you think changed?”

“I don’t know. You... know what happened to his mom, right?”

Your expression tightens. “Yeah.”

“Rough, to lose a parent so young.” Seokjin pauses, then shakes his head. “From what I hear though, things started changing long before that – if they did, that is.”

“What do you mean?” you ask, curious. “What do people say?”

Leaning forward, Seokjin drops his voice. “You know my cousin who works in PR?” When you nod, he continues, “Her company supports a ton of high-profile clients – including the Jeons. Apparently, one of her co-workers is convinced they have this conspiracy. Each time Jeon Energy does something bad, Jungkook has a scandal. The public’s attention goes to him, and not to the gallons of oil Jeon Energy dumped in the Pacific.”

Your jaw sags a little. “That’s… horrible.”

“I know,” Seokjin says. “It’s only a theory, but it does make you wonder.”

Shaking your head, you reach for your wine. Mind racing, you find yourself unsure what to think. It’s a lot of information to take in – and again, it’s only a rumor.

“It’s strange, isn’t it?” Seokjin wipes his mouth on a napkin. “I never really believed her, but then you said you liked him, so… I don’t know.”

“What does my liking him have to do with anything?”

“Y/N.” Seokjin stares. “I can name like, six people you like and two of them are Dante.”

“Well, sure. He has many personalities.”

“You get my point, though.”

“Yeah, I do.” Slowly, you exhale. “It doesn’t matter though, because Jungkook and I aren’t–”

“Are you enjoying your meal?”

Startled, you turn and find Min Yoongi beside you. Sitting up a bit straighter, Seokjin drops his napkin into his lap.

“It’s good,” Seokjin says, quickly composing himself. “Are you our replacement waiter? Did we scare off the other one? I should apologize for my friend here, if so. She can be somewhat off-putting.”

This last part is said in a whisper, causing Yoongi’s eyebrows to raise. He spares you barely a glance, making your cheeks heat and you wonder what he overhead.

“Nothing like that,” Yoongi says drily. “I’m Min Yoongi, the head chef.”

Furtive, Seokjin glances around. “And are you greeting each table individually, head chef?”

“If I say yes, will you speak highly of me in your review?”

Seokjin’s eyes widen, and you relish the flabbergasted look on his face. It’s a rare person who can fluster him and when it does happen, it’s a remarkable sight. Flashing Seokjin a smile, Yoongi turns to face you.

His expression tightens. “I know you,” Yoongi says.

“I – yes.” You hasten to reply. “I’m Y/N Y/L/N. I run the Clean Ocean organization. You catered for my fundraiser a while back?”

“Ah, yes. That must be it.”

Something in his face warns you this isn’t all, but before you can respond, Yoongi turns again.

Seokjin sits back. “How did you know I’m reviewing your restaurant? Do I have the aura of someone with a refined palate?”

“No.” Yoongi’s lips twitch. “Actually, your assistant made your reservation from their work email.”

Not to be deterred, Seokjin drops a wink. “And what about now that you’ve seen me in person? Refined palate aura?”

To your surprise, Yoongi laughs.

You nearly give yourself whiplash, glancing between them. It’s equally rare for someone to keep up with Seokjin and when this happens, it spells love or disaster. Based on Seokjin’s grin, you’d guess the former.

“And what would a refined palate aura look like?”

Seokjin’s voice deepens. “You know when you look at someone and think, ‘I bet they eat well.’”

Yoongi’s expression slackens, a gleam of interest entering his gaze.

“O-kay,” you cut in before they can go any further. “I think what Seokjin is trying to say is the food is incredible. As are the wine pairings,” you add. “Our waiter mentioned you have an in-house sommelier?”

“Close.”

“I – sorry?” you say, taken aback.

“I said, close.” Yoongi turns. “A sommelier made the pairings for us, but they aren’t in-house. It was a friend of mine, actually.”

Your fingers freeze as you gain a sinking suspicion of who this friend is.

Entirely oblivious, Seokjin continues. “Oh, really?” he asks. “What’s their name? I’ll be sure to mention them in my review. Since the cat’s already out of the bag,” he adds, grumbling a little as he opens his notes.

“Sure. The name’s Jeon Jungkook.”

Seokjin’s fingers still on his keys. “Ah.” He pauses, then swallows. “Okay, right. Jeon Jungkook. Thank you, Chef Min.”

Glancing your way, Seokjin has a guilty expression you choose to ignore. Smoothing your napkin, you focus instead on your water.

“Call me Yoongi.” Yoongi nods. “Enjoy your food.”

With that, he turns and strides across the restaurant. Seokjin watches him leave, waiting until he’s out of earshot before giving a whistle.

“Damn,” Seokjin says, his gaze dropping. “That tiny man has an ass.”

“Seokjin! That is not what’s important right now.”

“To you.” When your glare only increases, Seokjin snorts. “Okay, fine,” he says. “What’s important?”

Glancing around, you lean forward. “Did he seem weird just now?”

“Who? Yoongi?”

You nod.

“I don’t know.” Seokjin shrugs. “I just met him.”

“He seemed weird,” you insist, your voice dropping. “I met him at my fundraiser, and he was much nicer. Quiet, but nice. That was…”

“Expected?” Seokjin supplies. He shrugs at your look. “I mean, come on, Y/N. He’s Jungkook’s friend.”

“What does that mean?”

“Well, I – oh my god,” Seokjin moans, placing the steak in his mouth. “This filet is amazing, Y/N. Have you tried it?”

“Seokjin.”

“Right, sorry.” He swallows. “What was I saying?”

“Jungkook.”

“Oh, yeah. Jungkook. I’m just saying, who knows what he’s told his friends? Yoongi was probably giving you side-eye because he knows what happened between you.”

“But that’s just it!” you protest. “What could he know that would prompt that kind of response? Jungkook was the one who ended things, not me.”

“I don’t know.” Seokjin shrugs, unconcerned. “It’s only a theory. But if you’re out here shit-talking Jungkook, he’s probably shit-talking about you to Yoongi. It’s the circle of life, or whatever.”

“I am not shit-talking Jungkook to you.”

Seokjin gives you a look which makes you wither a little. “Alright, fine,” you say. “Maybe I’ve shit-talked him a little. But I was the dumpee.”

“And I thought you two weren’t dating.”

“I – you – well, you know what I mean,” you sputter.

Smiling triumphantly, Seokjin moves on to the tuna tartar.

Slightly subdued, you’re forced to admit Seokjin has a point. It shouldn’t bother you what Jungkook tells his friends because you two weren’t together. It doesn’t make sense that you’re here, talking about Jungkook to Seokjin. If anything, you should be asking his advice about Liam.

And yet, you haven’t, and Seokjin hasn’t offered. Likely because he knows Liam means nothing to you in the long run. You also should have mentioned Liam’s story when talking about Jungkook’s past. Seokjin possibly could have shed light on it.

Maybe you didn’t tell him purpose, says a voice in your head. Because if the Liam story is true and Jungkook’s heartbreaker façade is who he really is, then the man you have feelings for doesn’t exist.

Catching the slip of present tense, you close your eyes. Even your subconscious betrays you, reaching for a man who might not be real. Apparently, your feelings aren’t something sheer force of will can dissolve.

Neither can it lessen the hollowness in your chest.

For the rest of your meal, you don’t turn your head and by the time it’s over, you’re more confused than before. Your phone burns in your pocket the entire drive home.

Author's Note: Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed :) I do not have a tag list, so please do not ask to be added or ask about updates. My writing progress can be found in my updates schedule, linked in both my header and FAQ!

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