Tumgik
#clinic tour
ladiesinrock · 8 months
Text
Aquiles Priester (W.A.S.P., Angra): clinic tour italiano a febbraio
BATERAS BEAT ITALIA è lieta di presentare il Tour Italiano di Aquiles Priester: Un’esperienza unica con uno dei più grandi batteristi metal di sempre. Sei pronto per un’immersione nella magia della batteria con uno dei più grandi talenti del Brasile? Aquiles Priester, il rinomato batterista di fama mondiale, è in arrivo in Italia a febbraio con un tour imperdibile! Cosa include il…
Tumblr media
View On WordPress
0 notes
childcarecenter02 · 1 year
Text
Are you concerned about your child's growth and development? Look no further – Dr. Neha is here to empower you with expert advice and support! About Dr. Neha: Dr. Neha is a renowned pediatric specialist with over 15 years of experience in nurturing the physical, cognitive, and emotional growth of children. Her compassionate approach and extensive knowledge make her the go-to expert for parents seeking guidance in child development.
0 notes
redspringstudio · 1 year
Text
Tumblr media
You’re greeted by a crash when you arrive at Kuras's clinic. The room's trashed. Vere freezes, elbows deep in a cabinet.
“I was looking for the candy. He hides the good stuff,” Vere assures you as he pockets several vials. He doesn't explain the bite marks in the furniture.
823 notes · View notes
theworstcreature · 6 months
Text
instagram
When I fell you this LITERALLY TOOK MY BREATH AWAY-
Holy fucking SHIT I am hollering I just audibly gasped on the bus omfg LISTEN TO IT IM GOING TO SCREAM SO LOUD
Tumblr media
THIS IS LITERALLY ME RN IM ACTUALLY GOJNG FERAL
23 notes · View notes
thecrimsondandelion · 5 months
Text
I just think WANGBT and IKYWT could have been cut to keep Long Live and Tolerate it
Tumblr media
7 notes · View notes
a7tackontitan · 2 months
Text
I just want everyone here to know, I still think about Felix's solo stage performance "Rev it Up" during the 5-star dome tour on the daily. Once I listen to it, I can't help but keep replaying the stages. I need him to release the song so bad 🙏🏻
I will simultaneously combust if we never get to have this masterpiece released.
Tumblr media Tumblr media
4 notes · View notes
kamrulsup · 3 months
Text
Tumblr media
DentaTonic: Your Secret to Healthy Teeth and Gums
How It Works: DentaTonic replenishes lactoperoxidase levels in your saliva, an enzyme essential for protecting teeth and gums from harmful bacteria, preventing decay and irritation.
Side Effects: DentaTonic is safe for all ages and medical conditions, with no notable side effects reported from over 67,800 customers. However, consult your doctor if you have a medical condition or are on medication.
Usage: Take one tablet daily with water.
Ingredients: Each tablet contains a proprietary blend of enzymes and proteins designed to support oral health, crafted with high standards of quality and backed by research.
0 notes
sardonicsergeant · 6 months
Text
My brother surprised me with dethklok tickets and I literally cried I was so happy
0 notes
drutkarsh123 · 1 year
Text
Best laparoscopic gall bladder surgery in Agra
Welcome to Dr. Utkarsh Clinic for Surgery & Urology, your go-to facility in Agra for cutting-edge healthcare. Our skilled staff provides minimally invasive solutions for your medical needs and specialises in laparoscopic gall bladder surgery. The Best laparoscopic gall bladder surgery in Agra is offered by Dr. Utkarsh. We make sure your road to recovery is smooth and quick with accuracy and care. Count on us for superior surgical care.
Dr. Utkarsh- Clinic for Surgery and Urology
Address : 1/177, Lala Lajpat Rai Rd, Bagh Farzana, Professors Colony, Civil Lines, Agra, Uttar Pradesh 282002
82182 76887
0 notes
caeca-iustitia · 1 year
Text
I've spoken a little bit about Vincent's clinic in passing but I've never really gone in-depth about it since technically they've used 4 different buildings.
I want to- now- describe in a bit more detail the last building they used. This is their clinic outside of Oriflamme rather than the one inside the city's walls.
-
The clinic itself is located on the outer edge of a village nearby to Oriflamme's gates; the compound that it sits within is surrounded by lush forest on 3 sides. The compound has mossy, low stone walls and a wooden gate that leads into the compound proper.
To the left of the gate is a small patch of bright, multi-coloured flowers and a single tree that bears small white flowers almost all year.
To the right of the gate is a small, walled-in garden with low garden beds full of various medicinal herbs and even some vegetables. The whole thing is clearly very well-maintained and loved.
As one walks further into the compound you are hit by the overwhelmingly strong smell of lavender as the outside of the cottage is lined with the purple flower. Casting your eyes around it is possible to spot a weathered well as well as a stack of firewood; both of which were clearly interacted with recently.
The cottage itself is a simple structure; built with bricks and covered in plaster that is thinner in some patches. It just adds to the whimsical feeling that the thatched roof gives off. A single stone chimney rises from betwixt the thatch. The outside is finished off by a beautiful wooden door and shuttered windows; showing little of the interior to approaching individuals.
-
Entering the front door, your eyes must adjust to the lower lighting within first. The whole lower floor is lit by candles in wall sconces; casting a dim but warm glow over the wooden panelled walls and the beds that lined the room.
There were a handful of beautifully carved beds each made up with a plain white pillow and red comforter; some occupied whilst others lay empty. Beside each bed is a plain wooden chair with a plush cushion that is clearly used by the family to sit beside their sick loved ones.
On the right of the door is a small office space lit by a candelabra; a lone quill resting in the ink pot whilst fresh writing glistens on the page of an open journal. A large bookshelf covers the wall behind the desk and you can make out only a handle of the titles in the dim light. It doesn't matter what they said- you don't really care.
You start walking towards a door at the back of the main room but pause for just a moment to poke your head into a bathroom. It is a regular, quaint little bathroom that is home to a rather nice-looking bathtub, a sink and a toilet. Nothing out of the ordinary. You continue on down the hall after closing the door with a soft click.
-
Pushing open the door to the back room, you are immediately hit by the smell of medicine. A bitter smell that makes your skin crawl. You power through it to look around the room.
Next to the door, just beside you, is a wooden kitchen stool that is actually occupied. It couldn't be comfortable and you wince in sympathy at the sight of the healer who owns the clinic sitting there with their chin on their chest- they had clearly fallen asleep here whilst waiting for the medicine you can smell to finish brewing.
On the table in front of them, you note a few stacks of books and yet another quill; the journal in front of them this time detailing prescriptions for the medicine they brew.
Your gaze then turns to the table to your right, on it sits a cauldron bubbling away merrily with a pale green liquid inside. Next to this is a recipe book written in familiar elegant handwriting- turned to a page for a generic healing elixir that appears to be what they're currently brewing. On the other side is a small pile of ingredients prepared to be added once the liquid reaches the right stage; most of which you have never seen before.
The final table holds a simple scale and a number of weights which you guess is used to measure out more finicky ingredients but the scales don't seem to have been used in a while. The healer behind you seems to be a dab hand at measuring from memory if that was any indication. You opt to leave now and let them rest; knowing their internal clock would wake them when they needed to continue brewing.
-
Now back outside their lab, you finally notice the staircase and choose to climb it. Upon reaching the top you're met with a dim landing with a single chess table and a well-worn rug. You take a guess that the door furthest from the stairs is another bathroom and a quick glance inside confirms your suspicions. You turn your attention then to the other door; pushing it open.
-
The room is lit by candles and you notice the fireplace almost at once; it was a quite nice fireplace all things considered with a single pot of purple wyvern tails on the mantle piece. The sofa and armchair were a matching shade of red and upon touching them you are surprised at how plush they were. Sat beside the couch is a bag of knitting supplies and as you crouch down to examine it you spot a box of cross-stitch tools next to the armchair.
You stand and make your way around the couch; spotting another desk which you walk over to examine. This one is covered in books from many different genres and you notice that one book is left open in the middle of the desk.
A brief glance over it tells you that is no normal book but rather the healer's personal journal. You hurriedly look away to prevent yourself from snooping. Instead, you turn your attention to the bookcase next to the desk. It is covered in books and more books lay on the floor in front of it as they could not properly fit on the shelves.
-
You wander away from the desk and into the small kitchenette next to it; glancing about with interest. It's quaint and small; enough for one person to make something quick if they're tired or in a hurry. You get the feeling, however, that this kitchen is not used very often even if it is cleaned semi-regularly.
-
Finally, you spot the last door and approach. Pushing it open you come to a stop just inside the door and look around the surprisingly small bedroom. The whole room feels very cramped and you wonder how the healer downstairs even manages to walk about in here. You're struggling and you are a fair bit smaller than they are.
Next to the door is a small red dresser with a mirror balanced on top; the area in front is covered in rolls of bandages, elixirs used commonly for migraines and a small pile of bloody handkerchiefs. You frown at this but avert your eyes to take in the rest of the room.
The bed is shoved against the wall and made neatly. Too neatly. The room is cold and dark which tells you the healer has been absent from it for a number of days. The bed is just barely considered comfortable and the comforter is rather thin for the weather the area gets.
Beside the bed is a small table that holds a number more bloody handkerchiefs as well as a small pile of neatly folded clean ones. Your concern grows but with no way to prove something is amiss, you have to let it go.
In the corner sits a sword and a giant war hammer; things that seem entirely unlike the refined healer to purchase for themself. A bag of carpentry tools sits haphazardly on the floor next to the hammer alongside a pile of books that don't appear to match the rest of the books littered about the healer's personal living area.
-
Deciding you've snooped enough, you turn to leave and silently make your way out of the main room, down the stairs and out the door. You hear a tired sigh as the healer strides into the main room to deliver the potion they'd been brewing to the patient; the door clicking closed just as they start to speak.
1 note · View note
anappleadaydentist · 1 year
Text
Tumblr media
Take a Virtual Office Tour - Apple A Day Dental Clinic
Explore Apple A Day Dental Clinic with our virtual office tour. Get a glimpse of our state-of-the-art facilities, modern technology, and welcoming environment. Experience dental care like never before.
0 notes
cinemataylor · 1 year
Text
i do find it so funny how much filipinos dominated the singaporean eras tour dates but also!!! i’m still mad that all of southeast asia got one tour location. sure they added more dates but we are many and we are insane
0 notes
childcarecenter02 · 1 year
Text
https://www.drnehapediatric.com
Why Choose Dr. Neha?
Expertise: Dr. Neha's deep knowledge and experience ensure your child's well-being.
Compassion: She understands the challenges of parenthood and treats each child with care and empathy.
Personalized Care: Tailoring advice to your child's unique needs and characteristics.
Accessible: Dr. Neha is available for consultations at multiple locations for your convenience.
0 notes
commander-damneron · 1 year
Text
Healthcare facilities have got to make up their minds on whether they want people wearing masks or not
0 notes
loveofmylouis · 1 year
Text
.
1 note · View note
edenesth · 6 months
Text
TWTHH Spinoff: Stitched Hearts [2]
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Pairing: dressmaker!Hongjoong x noblewoman!reader
AU: historical au (Joseon era)
Word Count: 7.7k
Summary: Throughout his entire career, Hongjoong has received nothing but praise for his work. Never once had anyone suggested his dresses were anything short of perfection. That is, until he met the youngest daughter of the Baek household—the family's black sheep, an enigmatic spinster whom he found utterly confounding.
Part 1 | Main Story | Spinoff Masterlist
Tumblr media
"Go home, hyung, and think carefully about what I've said," Yunho insisted, ushering the dressmaker out of his clinic, "I really can't talk right now; I need to close up."
As Hongjoong made his way back to his shop, an internal struggle ensued between his mind and heart. His mind urged him to proceed with the job, reminding him he had no reason to be so troubled. Yet, his heart protested, insisting that it wasn't right. By going along with this, he would be complicit in someone's unhappiness.
Various scenarios played out in his mind as he imagined the aftermath of the makeover he was about to undertake. There was no doubt that you would attract attention from all directions, which wasn't the issue. He could picture potential suitors vying for your hand, but the thought unsettled him for reasons he couldn't quite grasp.
By the end of the night, his rational side prevailed, leading him to choose to proceed with the job. He concluded that entrusting another dressmaker with your makeover was out of the question; after all, he was the best in all of Joseon. You said it yourself; what you liked or wanted did not matter. If you were willing to comply with your family's wishes, then who was he to object?
He chastised himself for letting his emotions cloud his judgement. Despite feeling bad for you, he reminded himself that you were simply another customer. He shouldn't allow himself to be so affected by matters that were none of his concern.
Over the next few days, he dedicated himself entirely to crafting the most exquisite hanbok. He meticulously coordinated every detail, ensuring it would meet the approval of your family. As he finalised the sketch of your ensemble, along with the hairstyle and makeup he envisioned for you, he couldn't help but notice the absence of a smile on his drawing of you. It dawned on him that he had never seen you smiling, not even once.
Although a part of him entertained the idea of coaching you to flash a killer smile, his heart twinged at the realisation that any smile he coaxed would be forced, "Snap out of it, you idiot!" he scolded himself, shaking off the unnecessary thoughts and redirecting his focus to other aspects of the design.
In the meantime, Hongjoong's name seemed to echo through your days ever since his arrival. Your family would lavish him with endless praise for his dedication to his craft, simultaneously lecturing you for not being more courteous toward him, for expecting him to seek you out without you bothering to greet him upon his arrival. If only they were aware of the cruel words he had uttered to you recently. Would they still support him so fervently? Perhaps they would side with him and reprimand you even further for not showing him enough appreciation.
"My dear, why not try being a bit more hospitable today and give Mr. Kim a little tour during his visit, hm?" your mother suggested during breakfast, her tone tinged with exasperation, "It's hard to believe he's already been here twice and has only seen the library and your quarters. Take him around the gardens, at least, will you?"
You pursed your lips, feeling a hint of irritation rising within you, though you didn't show it, "But mother, he's here to work. He's not a guest. Why should we extend such hospitality to him?" you muttered, taking another bite of your food.
Haeun scoffed in response, "Are you even listening to yourself? Mr. Kim is doing you a huge favour. He even closed his shop just to come here for you. The least you could do is show him some courtesy," your father and brother instantly agreeing with her.
Feeling frustrated, you decided to keep your mouth shut, realising that nothing you said would ever satisfy your family when they teamed up against you to highlight your supposed shortcomings.
This is dumb, he's getting paid anyway.
"What a pleasant surprise, Miss Baek! How kind of you to finally greet me and offer to take me on a tour!" the dressmaker exclaimed with raised brows as he was met with your blank stare while you stood waiting by the entrance of your family estate.
Shaking your head, you gestured for him to follow you, "Trust me, Mr. Kim, it's not my idea, and I dread this as much as you do. Please endure it for a bit for the sake of pleasing my family."
He blinked, trying not to let your bluntness affect him. He should know better than to be surprised by your straightforwardness by now. Nodding quickly, he rushed to catch up to you, already several steps ahead, apparently unconcerned whether he was following or not as you began the tour, "Right, my lady! Of course!"
Amused, he chuckled softly to himself at your bored expression as you walked past main areas like the living hall and dining hall before reaching places he recognised. Speaking in a monotone, you pointed out, "You've already seen these places. This is the library, and my quarters are just over there, but you already know that."
Turning to him, you furrowed your brows, "Is there anything funny?"
Biting his lip to suppress his laughter, he shook his head, "Not at all, Miss Baek. Please continue," he reassured, finding your reluctance somewhat endearing.
His eyes widened in wonder as you both arrived at what appeared to be a small play area for the children, "This is a mini playground my father had our servants create for his grandchildren," you explained, gesturing toward your nieces and nephews who were running around joyfully, their laughter echoing through the air. Glancing over at you, he noticed a hint of envy in your eyes, as if you longed to experience the simple happiness the children were enjoying.
After a moment, you took a deep breath and shook off the sentiment, "Well, let's move on to other areas then. I'm sure you don't have all day, Mr. Kim," you said briskly.
Without giving him a chance to reply, you headed off in another direction. He sighed before running after you again, silently cursing you for keeping him on the move. Yet, despite that, he couldn't find it in him to muster any irritation toward you. There was something about your behaviour that felt refreshing. For once, he appreciated being treated simply as another person, rather than being placed on a pedestal for all his accomplishments or appearance.
Arriving at your next location, you remarked rather sarcastically, "Of course, we can't forget the most crucial place in the entire estate, the kitchens," your voice hushed to avoid attracting attention from the busy maids for fear of disrupting their work.
Just as you were both about to leave, a burst of laughter echoed through the kitchen, accompanied by a blunt remark, "I bet the young miss will end up divorced early in her marriage, even if she miraculously finds a suitor after the makeover Mr. Kim gives her. She's an absolute nightmare! What sane man could tolerate her for long?"
Hongjoong felt his blood boil at the audacious words, growling under his breath, "How dare they—" He clenched his fists and took a step toward the door, seemingly ready to confront them.
Surprised by his reaction, you reached out and grasped his wrist, causing him to look down at your hold before meeting your gaze with a questioning expression. You sighed heavily, "Forget it, there's no point in doing whatever you intend to do. I'm already hard to like as it is, and I don't want them to dislike me even more than they already do. Let's just get out of here, Mr. Kim."
Feeling a pang in his chest, he couldn't shake off the aggravation that washed over him at the acceptance in your tone. The realisation that you were well aware of everyone's dislike towards you, yet you had resigned yourself to enduring it, stirred an unsettling mix of emotions within him. Just how long had you been suffering all this alone?
When he remained rooted in his spot, you squeezed his wrist and whispered, "Please, can we just go?"
With a defeated expression, he squeezed his eyes shut and nodded, "Fine, as you wish."
As you both left the kitchen behind, his mind buzzed with unanswered questions. Why wouldn't you stand up for yourself? And why wouldn't you let him be the one to defend you? It frustrated him to no end. He couldn't comprehend how someone as strong-willed as you could endure such treatment.
The weight of your silence hung heavy in the air, leaving him feeling helpless and conflicted. He wanted to reach out, to offer some form of solace or support, but he couldn't find the right words. Instead, he walked alongside you in silence, his mind racing with thoughts of how to help you.
Glancing at him, you could easily discern his struggle to contain his annoyance. But what you couldn't understand was why he seemed more bothered by it than you, especially considering his apparent dislike toward you. Eager to move past the incident, you decided to follow your mother's suggestion and led him to the gardens.
"I hope you like flowers, Mr. Kim," you offered as you strolled among the blooms, "These are some of my mother's proudest collections, gathered from other provinces."
Relief washed over you as he appeared to be distracted, showing genuine interest as he examined some of the rare flowers not typically found in this area.
Giving him a moment alone, you scanned the area, straining to hear a faint meowing. Your eyes widened and you gasped as you spotted a cat stranded atop a tree. Without hesitation, you rushed forward, calling out, "Don't worry, kitty! I'll rescue you!" Your hands reached for the tree branch as you searched for a secure foothold to climb.
"Ooh, this one's pretty! Where did this come from?" he pondered aloud, his brow furrowing at the lack of response. Glancing up, he did a double take upon seeing you attempting to scale a tree.
Hastening over, he halted your ascent with a firm grip on your arm, "I turn away for one second and—have you lost your mind? What in god's name do you think you're doing?!"
Clicking your tongue in frustration, you pointed to the poor little distressed animal above, "Let me go. I'm going to save the cat, whether you like it or not."
The dressmaker sighed in exasperation, slapping a palm against his forehead as he observed the determination in your eyes. With a roll of his eyes, he relented, "Ugh, fine. Step aside, I'll do it."
You huffed, conceding to his offer, and relinquished your position. As he handed you the bag containing your latest hanbok, he rolled up his sleeves, muttering to himself, "I can't believe I'm doing this," before proceeding to climb the tree with surprising agility. However, he soon realised the tree was taller than expected, and panic gripped him as he reached the top, letting out a startled yelp, "Oh my god, this tree is way taller than I thought!"
"Quit wasting time and save the cat!" you urged, frustration creeping into your voice. When he shot you a glare, you narrowed your eyes and challenged, "If you're so scared, get down here then! I'll do it!"
"No, no, no, don't you dare! What kind of man would I be to let you do it, huh? You stay put and wait down there," he insisted firmly, before reaching out tentatively for the frightened animal, "Come here, kitty. It's alright, just come to me and you'll be safe."
With bated breath, you observed as his hand shook pitifully. Slowly but surely, the animal inched closer to him, bit by bit, until it ended up snugly in his arms. A sigh of relief escaped you as he succeeded. Holding the rescued feline close to his chest, he carefully made his way back down.
As soon as he handed the cat over to you, his legs gave out, and he sank onto the ground. His face was blank, as if he were still trying to process what he had just done. The last thing he expected when coming here today was to do something like this.
Seeing his defeated posture, unlike his usual composed demeanour, you couldn't help but let a smile sneak onto your face, eventually bursting into a fit of giggles as you replayed the scene in your head. At the sound, he glanced up, captivated by the melody of your laughter. Frozen in place, his heart skipped a beat as he beheld your smile for the first time, genuine happiness lighting up your features. At that moment, he realised your beauty, wanting nothing more than to see that smile more often.
How pretty.
Since that day, both of you appeared to have grown more at ease with each other. He abandoned the formalities, as you urged, and shed the false pleasantries. Finally, he felt comfortable enough to be his true self around you, letting his unfiltered thoughts flow freely and speaking his mind without reservation. You didn't seem to mind, especially since he hadn't intended any offence with his words.
While you wouldn't go as far as calling yourselves friends, there was a comfort in each other's presence that had developed. Even in moments of silence, there was never any awkwardness, only an unspoken understanding between you, a connection that required no verbal declaration; you simply understood each other.
Over Hongjoong's recent visits, a routine had formed. You would courteously greet him at the entrance before guiding him to your quarters. There, he would assist you in trying on the hanboks he had crafted, ensuring they fit perfectly and required no further alterations. He would experiment with different makeup and hairstyles, exploring which suited you best.
After weeks of diligent work to assemble the perfect ensemble for you, today marked the culmination of his efforts—the day he would finally unveil your complete makeover. With an array of hanboks he had brought from his previous visits, they were sufficient to constitute an entirely new wardrobe for you. This was the moment your family had eagerly anticipated, the outcome they had engaged the dressmaker for. He observed you scrutinise the items he had meticulously prepared, your expression unreadable.
"Are you ready, Miss Baek?" he inquired.
You shot him a look that seemed to convey 'are you kidding me', your lips pursed, "Does it matter? Just do what you have to, Kim."
With a nod, he began with your hair and makeup, his heart quickening with every movement under the weight of your attentive gaze, fixated on his handsome features. Unbeknownst to him, you held your breath whenever he moved a little closer to perfect your eye makeup. Cursing himself, he attempted to steady his trembling hands as he moved on to your lips, "Could you please look away or close your eyes?" he requested.
"Why?" you inquired, devoid of any jest.
He sighed, "Look, it's... it's distracting, okay? I find it hard to concentrate when you're watching me so intently."
Rolling your eyes, you acquiesced and closed your eyes, "And you claim to be a professional," you remarked.
For once, he lacked the energy to retort, his heart dancing with sensations he had never experienced before. Despite having applied makeup for countless women, he had never encountered such a physical reaction. Puzzled, he struggled to understand the inexplicable effect you seemed to have on him and his poor heart.
"Everything's finished, except for putting on the hanbok," he announced, placing his tools aside before excusing himself momentarily as your maids began assisting you with one of the most elaborate hanboks he had produced. Stepping outside your quarters, he was taken aback to see your entire family assembled and waiting. Bowing respectfully, he greeted them, "Ah, you've all arrived right on time. Miss Baek is almost prepared."
Hajoon stepped forward, extending his hand to shake the dressmaker's, "With your assistance, I'm certain she'll look stunning. Thank you so much for your dedication, Mr. Kim," your parents chimed in, expressing their gratitude for his hard work.
Suddenly, the attention shifted as one of your nephews pointed towards the entrance of your room, exclaiming, "Look, a princess!" All eyes turned to catch a glimpse of you.
A chorus of gasps escaped from your family members as they beheld the sight before them. Your family was overcome with awe, your mother and sister shedding tears of joy as if you had finally fulfilled their deepest wishes. Turning around, Hongjoong's breath caught in his throat as he took in your completed transformation for the first time, mirroring the astonishment of everyone else. You appeared breathtaking, meeting society's standards of perfection and seamlessly fitting into their expectations. Yet, the absence of joy in your expression failed to bring him satisfaction.
She's not happy.
In truth, a foolish part of him clung to the hope that you might still be impressed by your transformation once you had seen your beauty, despite knowing your reservations. He harboured a fleeting expectation that your initial reluctance stemmed from never seeing yourself adorned in such finery before, and that your perspective would shift upon witnessing your present appearance. But he knew he was wrong as soon as he observed your evident discomfort, your fingers clutching the hanbok's skirt tightly, your gaze averted while your family showered you with adoration.
Confusion enveloped him at that moment. He should have felt elated that his vision had come to fruition; your family's satisfaction with his work signalled the success of his mission. However, instead of joy, remorse consumed him; your family's praises fell on deaf ears, and all he could see was the despair in your hunched shoulders.
"Mr. Kim, this is utter perfection! You've truly outdone yourself! Please join us for dinner tonight before you leave! It's the least we can do for all the work you've put in over the past few weeks!" your father invited, excitement evident in his tone.
Normally, he would reject such offers, but he realised he wasn't ready to leave you just yet. With only you in mind, Hongjoong accepted, "It would be my pleasure, Official Baek."
Seated beside you in the dining hall that night, the dressmaker did his best to engage with your family members. However, his attention kept drifting back to you, noticing your silence as you picked at your food, showing little appetite. He grew concerned seeing you repeatedly reach for the wine glass, drinking more than eating. Haeun's disapproving glare didn't escape his notice.
"That's enough, maknae. No man likes a drunkard for a wife. With your enhanced looks, you'll be attracting a suitor real soon. Now's the time for you to start training to be a proper lady," she scolded.
Hajoon chortled, "Let her. Perhaps she'll be a better wife when drunk. That version of her might be more tolerable than her usual self."
To Hongjoong's dismay, your sister and parents joined in the laughter, despite your brother-in-law and sister-in-law exchanging apologetic glances in your direction. At that moment, he lost his appetite completely as he watched you quietly enduring it all, much like when the maids made fun of you.
Before he could inquire if you were okay, your father addressed him, "Mr. Kim, we apologise on our youngest's behalf for any trouble she may have caused you. Surely, she couldn't have been easy to work with. We will compensate you nicely for all your efforts."
Wanting to use the opportunity to stand up for you, he plastered on his most professional smile and spoke, "Not at all, my lord. Miss Baek has been an absolute pleasure to work with. She's remarkably selfless, unlike many customers who approach me solely for superficial reasons. Despite her reservations about fashion, she wholeheartedly complies for her family's sake. And I deeply respect her for that. The opportunity to make her clothing is reward enough for me. I consider myself fortunate to have such a client."
His response surprised everyone, including you, with its sincerity and absence of flattery or deceit. Your mother blinked, ashamed of herself for laughing moments ago, "Oh, that's reassuring to hear. Perhaps we should give her more credit for her efforts."
The atmosphere turned slightly awkward after the dressmaker's indirect words, making it clear he disapproved of their conversation about you. It seemed as though his remarks had prompted them to reflect on their behaviour, recognising the cruelty of mocking their own family member. Despite your usual straightforwardness, they understood that you truly never meant to hurt anyone's feelings. Guilt washed over them as they realised their earlier actions had been intentional and hurtful.
Absorbing the aftermath of Hongjoong's defence of you, a surge of emotion welled up inside you. His words resonated deeply, touching a part of you that had longed for such validation. No one had ever stood up for you in such a manner, not even your own family, who were supposed to be your closest allies. To hear someone speak so kindly of you, with genuine sincerity, was a rare and precious gift.
Looking up at him, you felt a warmth spread through your chest. Perhaps, in that moment, he had become more than just a dressmaker to you. Maybe, without him even realising it, he had earned the title of friend.
As he gently confiscated the wine glass from your hand and replenished your bowl with food, a tiny smile tugged at the corners of your lips. His gesture felt like a moment of genuine concern that warmed your heart. Whether or not he realised it, he was showing you a level of care you hadn't experienced before, and it felt comforting to be treated with such thoughtfulness.
"Stop drinking so much and eat more, my lady. You'll be sick if you keep up like that," he lectured with a soft grin.
You wondered if this was his way of showing that he cared. Regardless, it felt nice to be looked after, to have someone pay attention to your well-being in such a simple yet meaningful way. As you took a bite of the food he had placed before you, a sense of gratitude washed over you, grateful for his unexpected kindness in a world that had often felt cold and indifferent.
After the meal, he said his farewells to your family but insisted on walking you back to your quarters before departing. Upon reaching your room entrance, you turned to him, saying, "Well, I'm here safe now. You can leave, Mr. Kim."
He scoffed lightly, "Would it hurt to have a little chat before I go?"
Taking a seat on the short staircase leading to your room, he patted the space beside him, gesturing for you to join him, "Come on. I don't know when I'll see you again after this. Let's just... talk."
Your heart felt uneasy at the reminder that today marked the grand finale, and with it over, his job here was considered done. He would have no reason to visit your family estate unless summoned. Reluctantly, you settled down beside him on the step.
Despite his desire to converse, there was a moment of silence as you both pondered what to say. The ambience was filled with the chirping of crickets and the gentle rustle of leaves in the breeze as you sat side by side, your shoulders lightly touching. Mustering his courage, he finally broached the subject, "Be honest with me, Miss Baek. Do you hate my designs? I've noticed your unease since you put them on."
Gazing down at the vibrant hanbok adorning your frame, feeling the weight of the accessories on your head and the unfamiliar thickness of the makeup on your usually bare face, you let out a sigh, "I don't hate them. It's just... honestly, I don't feel worthy of such finery. They're undeniably beautiful, but they don't resonate with who I am. And if this is what it takes to attract a husband, I can't help but wonder... what good is a man who would only value me for my looks? What kind of marriage would that be? The maids had a point. Any man fooled by this appearance would likely end up divorcing me."
Frowning, he turned to you, seeing the rare display of emotion as your eyes glistened with tears, "That's not true, why would you think you're unworthy?" he questioned, genuine concern evident in his voice. Though he wanted to agree that a man like that did not deserve to be with you, he opted to address what truly mattered.
You let out a humourless chuckle, a sound that tugged at his heartstrings. It was unlike you to expose your vulnerabilities in such a manner. Perhaps it was the comfort of Hongjoong's presence or the effects of the alcohol. Or maybe it was a combination of both. You shut your eyes as your world began to spin, whispering, "I've never been good enough for anything or anyone. My parents made that abundantly clear since I was a child. Nobody has ever truly liked me, and don't pretend otherwise, I know you disliked me too. I just... I'm so tired. I want to be loved for who I am. Is that too much to ask...?"
It really isn't, my lady. I'm right here.
Your voice trailed off, a tear tracing down your cheek as you rested your head against his shoulder, succumbing to exhaustion. His heart ached as he hesitated, then gently wrapped an arm around your shoulders. Once he was certain you were truly asleep, he carefully slid his other arm beneath your legs and carried you into your room.
The dressmaker felt as if his life hadn't been the same since taking on that job. It had been nearly a week since he last saw you, the image of your tear-stained sleeping face lingering in his mind as he tucked you into bed. A heavy weight settled in his heart as he silently bid you farewell that night, making his way home with a sense of numbness.
Every day after that felt unsettling.
The initial satisfaction he anticipated from accepting your sister's job offer eluded him. Thoughts of you consumed his mind relentlessly. He wondered about your well-being—whether you were eating properly, sleeping soundly, finding happiness. Despite his yearning to see you again, even just a glimpse to ensure you were okay, he knew he had no reason to visit the Baek estate. The job was completed, and he had received his payment in full. Alongside the surge in his reputation, he had earned widespread recognition for transforming the once pitiful youngest Miss Baek into the stunning beauty you are today.
Consequently, his business flourished. Recognising his inability to change the situation, he threw himself into his work, attempting to maintain a semblance of normalcy. Day after day, he laboured tirelessly in his shop, his pockets filling up, yet his heart growing emptier with each passing moment.
"Huh, who would've thought this day would come? It seems someone could rob you in broad daylight, and you wouldn't even notice," the sudden familiar deep voice snapped him out of his thoughts. Looking up, he found Seonghwa standing right beside his work desk, "What's up with you, Kim Hongjoong? Need a break?"
"I told you, he's been acting all weird since he completed the Baek family's job," Wooyoung chimed in, appearing behind the general.
The dressmaker blinked, "Wh-what are you two idiots doing here?"
Seonghwa scoffed, "Oh wow, is that really the way to greet your friends who care enough to come check on you?"
Flustered, Hongjoong cleared his throat and returned to work, "Why do you have to check on me? I'm doing just fine."
"Are you really? That's not what Yunho told us. It sounds like someone's finally having girl problems," the investigator retorted.
The general grinned, "You know, for someone who gives so much relationship advice, you're rather terrible with matters of the heart when it comes to yourself."
With a sigh, the dressmaker rolled his eyes, "I don't have any problems. You two should worry about yourselves instead. Haven't you heard? Taken men have more issues than single lads like myself." The two had been exceptionally insufferable ever since the younger man had also begun courting his precious Miss Han, always borderline making fun of the rest for still being single.
"Really? So you're not bothered that Miss Baek has finally found a suitor?" Wooyoung teased. At that, Hongjoong dropped the pencil in his hand, head snapping up with wide eyes, "What did you say?"
His friends exchanged knowing grins before the younger one repeated, "I said, the youngest miss of the Baek family has finally found a suitor. The eldest son of the Yoon family has asked for her hand in marriage."
The dressmaker felt his heart drop, "The Yoon family...? Aren't they the ones on the verge of bankruptcy?"
Seonghwa nodded, "That's correct. I guess they must be taking the opportunity to forge a union with the Baek family to save themselves financially. I suppose it wouldn't be so bad now that the youngest miss is finally pretty enough to marry."
"Don't you dare say that about her; she's perfect the way she was. Her appearance doesn't define her," Hongjoong growled, glowering at his friend for the first time.
Rather than reacting negatively, his friends applauded his response, the older man smirking, "Congratulations, you're in love."
"I'm not—"
Wooyoung sighed in exasperation, "Listen, it doesn't matter to us whether you think you're in love or not. But if you aren't, I suppose it wouldn't matter that today is the day the Baek and Yoon families formalise the engagement. Do what you will with that information; we have a double date to enjoy."
At that moment, he came to the realisation that what he had been feeling all along was love. Looking back, he should have recognised the signs from the very beginning; despite his irritation with you, genuine anger never surfaced. The incessant thoughts of you had been consuming every moment of his life, a clear indicator in hindsight. Yet, he couldn't fathom why he had persisted in denying it. It was evident that he wasn't fooling anyone except himself.
The dressmaker's cheeks flushed with embarrassment as he watched his friends leave his shop, "W-wait!" he called out, his voice tinged with a hint of nervousness, "Thanks, guys. I appreciate the help."
With a playful wink, the general teased, "Atta boy, go get your girl. I'm looking forward to making it a triple date next time."
God, I sure hope she feels the same.
Meanwhile, you wandered through the gardens of your estate, accompanied by Byungho, the eldest son of the Yoon family and your soon-to-be fiancé, a sense of unease lingered within you. The suddenness of his proposal, along with his family's involvement, left you in a state of shock. While you had anticipated attracting suitors after your makeover, you hadn't expected everything to unfold in less than a week. Despite Byungho's outward appearance of kindness, you didn't know how to feel about spending the rest of your life with him.
Besides, you weren't entirely clueless.
You'd heard all the rumours circulating about his family's financial troubles, stemming from a failed business venture that had left them on the brink of bankruptcy. You understood that his proposal wasn't solely motivated by your newfound beauty; rather, you were seen as a solution to his family's predicament. And since he was still unmarried, it would be like killing two birds with one stone.
Even as you walked alongside the man who was supposed to be your future husband, your thoughts were consumed by a certain dressmaker. Amidst the familiar scenery of the garden, memories of your shared moments played on a loop in your mind.
Like the cat you had rescued and set free, you couldn't help but wonder about both of them—the stray animal and its saviour. Did he ever think of you, even fleetingly? The maids had recounted the events of your final night with him; how he had carried you back to your room and tucked you in with care. You regretted being influenced by alcohol, wishing you had bid him a proper farewell.
Now, you knew you would never see him again—the first person to show you genuine kindness despite a rocky start, the first to truly care, the first you had considered a friend... and perhaps more.
I miss you, Kim Hongjoong.
Little did you know, he stood just outside the entrance to your family estate, struggling to catch his breath. He pleaded with the guards stationed at the gate, conveying the urgency of his situation, "Please, I left behind a crucial tool that I need to retrieve."
"We apologise, Mr. Kim, but the Baek family is hosting important guests today, and we cannot permit entry to outsiders without a valid reason. Perhaps you could return tomorrow," the guard explained respectfully, bowing his head in apology.
As he regained his composure, a sense of desperation gripped him. He knew exactly who those guests were and the purpose of their visit. He couldn't afford to wait until tomorrow; he had to be there to stop it all now. However, he couldn't reveal the true reason to the guards, fearing it would only lead to his expulsion from the premises.
Summoning his typically fearless demeanour, he planted his hands on his hips and fixed the guard with an unamused stare, "Listen, I have a significant client waiting on her hanbok for tomorrow. If I lose her business because of this delay, will you take responsibility for my losses? I doubt your salary could cover the cost. So, soldier, are you prepared to shoulder that burden?"
The guard swallowed nervously, "I-I..."
Rolling his eyes, Hongjoong pressed on, "All I need is a moment to retrieve my belongings. What harm could my brief presence possibly cause? Do you think the guests will be bothered by a mere dressmaker dropping by to pick up his things?"
Lord forgive me for deceiving this poor man.
Finally relenting, the guard stepped aside, "I suppose you have a point, sir. My apologies."
As soon as he was out of the guard's line of sight, he moved stealthily like a spy. The last thing he wanted was to draw attention to himself and face a barrage of questions. His heart raced in his chest as he scanned every corner frantically in search of you. Inside, the living hall buzzed with activity, hosting both your family and the Yoons. However, you and the eldest Yoon son were conspicuously absent. Panic and protectiveness surged within him at the thought of you being alone with another man.
He felt a wave of relief wash over him when he discovered your quarters were vacant. The mere thought of finding you with another man in your room made his stomach churn with jealousy. Passing by the library, he was once again grateful to find it deserted. These were sacred spaces shared only between the two of you, and he refused to let anyone else intrude upon them.
Finally, a sense of calm settled over him when he spotted you in the garden with your prospective betrothed. Taking cover behind a nearby tree, he strained to eavesdrop on your conversation while contemplating his next move. Walking up to you and blurting out his feelings like a madman seemed out of the question. Not only would it be reckless, but he also had to consider what your family would think of him if he acted so impulsively.
He needed to devise a careful plan of action.
Perking up, his attention sharpened as he heard the eldest Yoon son's words to you, "My lady, we've been here for a while. Would you perhaps like to have some tea in a more... secluded spot?"
Hongjoong's blood ran cold at the suggestion, his fists tightening involuntarily until he heard your firm response, "I'm not in the mood for tea, Byungho. If you want some, feel free to go ahead and enjoy it yourself. I'll be right here." A surge of pride swelled within him at your characteristic straightforwardness.
That's my girl, you tell him.
A tense silence hung in the air before Byungho's frustration reached its boiling point, "Enough of this, I've had it with you," he burst out, "Do you honestly believe that just because you've become more attractive, you're suddenly something special? Do you know what men outside are saying about you? Sure, you finally look pretty enough to marry, but they would have considered you if only you were a couple of years younger. Take a good look at yourself in the mirror, you're old. Be grateful I'm willing to marry you. You have no right to be playing Ice Princess with me right now, you hear me?"
The dressmaker's blood boiled as he listened to Byungho's disrespectful tirade against you. Unable to contain his anger any longer, he emerged from his hiding spot and strode purposefully toward the two of you.
"Look who's talking," he interjected, his voice laced with fury, "If she's so undesirable, why the hell are you and your family here begging to have her hand in marriage?" He narrowed his eyes at the bastard, his words dripping with disdain, "Look at yourself, Yoon Byungho. You're going broke and are relying on a woman to save yourself. I don't think you should be the one to talk."
Byungho's face turned red with anger as he shot back, "Who the hell do you think you are? Wait a minute, I know you. Aren't you just a lowly dressmaker? You have no right to speak to me like that."
But Hongjoong stood his ground, undeterred by Byungho's attempts to intimidate him, "I may be a dressmaker, but at least I have the decency to respect others," he retorted, "Unlike you, who seems to think you can treat people however you please just because of your family name. Would you prefer to back off on your own, or would you like me to repeat your earlier words to Official and Lady Baek word for word? Do you reckon they'd still want such a son-in-law?"
As the tension between them escalated, you watched in shock, unsure of what to make of the confrontation unfolding before you.
You didn't know how to react when Byungho scoffed in disbelief, "Whatever, I can't stand her anyway," he said before turning to you, "And you, don't come crying to me when you can't find someone to marry."
"Oh, don't you worry, she won't," the dressmaker sneered, watching the despicable man huff and stalk off.
Still in a state of shock, you blinked rapidly, trying to process Hongjoong's sudden appearance and his unexpected action in ending your engagement so abruptly, "M-Mr. Kim...? What have you done?"
He narrowed his eyes at you, "What have I done? More like, what are you doing, woman?" he retorted.
"I haven't done anything," you fought back.
"Exactly! Were you really just going to marry that douche of a man if I hadn't shown up? Even after he said those things to you? Don't you want to be happy?" he questioned.
Massaging your temples, you struggled to understand his point, "I don't get it, Mr. Kim. What are you trying to say? You know better than anyone my happiness never mattered."
He ignored your question, "Of course, it matters! And what the hell are you wearing?!"
Confused, you looked down at the hanbok you were wearing, one of his designs, "What do you mean? This is your—"
"Only wear what you want and do what you want! Why should you be so unhappy? This is your life!" he interrupted, frustrated.
Exasperated, you sighed, "In case you haven't been paying attention, no man will ever want me if I were to—"
He cut you off, gripping your shoulders firmly as he looked into your eyes, "I do! I want to be with you, okay? Your happiness matters to me more than anything else!" he declared before bravely pulling you into his arms. He felt like he could finally breathe again when you lifted your arms to hug him back.
A week had passed since that pivotal moment, and it was remarkable how one single moment could alter the course of your life. Hongjoong's unexpected intervention had changed everything. Byungho's decision to call off the engagement had left both families in shock, particularly his own, given their desperate need for financial assistance. The bastard was more keen to preserve his reputation, fearful of the repercussions of his outburst towards you. Strangely, your family seemed somewhat relieved by the turn of events, although the reasons behind their reaction remained unclear.
Eventually, it became clear when the dressmaker approached them, seeking permission to court you. The knowing grins exchanged among your family members answered your unspoken questions.
Haeun's laughter, unexpected to both you and Hongjoong, was joined by Hajoon's, "I knew it! I knew there was something between you two! Your actions spoke volumes, Mr. Kim, especially your protectiveness towards her that night. We've been waiting for you to realise it."
Your parents nodded, "You have our blessing, Mr. Kim. So long as our youngest is happy. But ultimately, it's her consent that truly matters. You should ask her if she's willing."
The dressmaker hesitated, his heart pounding in his chest as he reached for your hand, "I did ask her..." His nerves eased when you willingly intertwined your fingers with his, "And she said yes."
And ever since that moment, he hadn't let you go for long, always claiming to miss you. Though you were too shy to admit it aloud, you felt the same. Now, as you stroll along the bustling streets of town for the first time in what feels like forever, his hand securely holding yours, he shows you around, "Come on, beautiful. There's still so much to see."
He slowed his pace, noticing the slightly overwhelmed expression on your face, and wrapped an arm around your shoulder, "Are you feeling alright, darling?" he asked, scanning the surroundings, wondering if you were perhaps feeling insecure due to any stares, "Is it the hanbok? I promise I'll make an even simpler version next time."
You shook your head immediately, "What? No! I like this, Joong, I really do," you said, smiling down at the simple yet elegant pastel-coloured fabric he had picked especially for you. He had replaced all the previous ones he made for you with a new batch of minimalistic hanboks you'd prefer.
Narrowing his eyes suspiciously, he persisted, "Are you sure? You know you can tell me anything."
You chuckled softly, and he felt a flutter in his chest at the sight of your beautiful smile, "Of course, you know I can't lie to save my life."
His laughter echoed with realisation, "That's true, how could I forget?"
Giving his hand a gentle squeeze, you leaned your head against his shoulder, your favourite spot, "I was just thinking..."
"About what?"
You blushed, "About us."
As you reached a serene little bridge spanning over a gentle river, you both paused to admire the tranquil scene below, leaning against the ledge side by side, "What about us?" he asked.
Turning to meet his gaze, you softened, "I just find it amusing how we ended up like this, together. I recall how much you couldn't stand me when we first met, and I thought I'd never see you again once the makeover was done. Yet... here you are."
He grinned warmly, leaning in to rest his forehead against yours, "Here I am, my darling. I was an idiot then, but I have no intention of ever leaving your side again."
Your heart brimmed with joy, a sensation you never thought you'd have the pleasure of experiencing. Similarly, Hongjoong felt a sense of pride as he observed you gradually opening up, becoming more at ease in expressing your emotions around him. He was proud of the progress you had made.
Caught up in the moment, he summoned the courage to finally kiss you. Truth be told, he had been searching for the right moment to share your first kiss but wanted to respect your boundaries. He knew you must have been new to all this, and to be fair, he wasn't much more experienced than you. While he had seen many couples throughout his life and displays of affection were nothing new to him, he lacked firsthand experience. He often wondered when would be the right time to take such a step.
Sensing his gaze fixed on your lips, your breath caught in your throat. Was the moment finally here? Were you about to share your first kiss? You closed your eyes instinctively as he leaned in, taking it as his cue to press his lips against yours.
Here goes nothing.
As your lips met, a rush of euphoria swept through him when he felt you kissing him back softly, enjoying the sensation of your lips on his. Slowly pulling back, you both broke into shy smiles, "That felt nice," he said, and you nodded in agreement, "It really did." Just as he leaned down again, intent on kissing you once more, you were both snapped out of your trance by the sound of a child yelling for help.
Reaching for his hand, you immediately pulled him towards the source of the commotion, only to find a little girl pointing to the top of a tree, "Help, please, somebody help my poor little kitty!"
You couldn't help but burst into giggles at the familiar scene as Hongjoong shook his head, "Nope, absolutely not. Someone else can help her," Pouting, you tugged at his arm, "Please, Joong? We have to help the poor thing! I'll give you a kiss when you do."
His jaw dropped before determination filled his being, "You know what? Deal. You best not go back on your words, woman."
Rolling up his sleeves, he approached the tree with a shake of his head in disbelief, "Goodness, the things I do for her," he muttered. But as he glanced back and saw the beautiful smile on your face, he realised he would be willing to save a thousand, no—a million more cats if that's what it takes to make you smile like that every day.
Anything to make you happy, darling.
Tumblr media
If you haven't already read the first bonus chapter of TWTHH, please do so soon! I'll be working on the second bonus chapter after this hehe also, I hope you're all excited for Yunho's spinoff next!
As always, thank you for reading and let me know your thoughts! <3
Tag list (1/8): @itstheghostofmypast @huachengsbestie01 @minghaoslatina @weedforthoughtz @minkiflwr @cheolliehugs @the-kpop-simp @writingwieny @stayatinykatsy @skzline @green-agent @stayinhellevator @vampzity @tinyteezer @evidive @vantediary @superbbananananana @kimyeolchan @chocolate-scoups @decadentstrangernacho @vic0921 @foxinnie8 @marievllr-abg @sunnyhokyu @seungmin-in-thebuilding @heyitsmetonid @sansaurora9904 @darkestacademiamindsx12-blog @pay13 @kpop17 @professormingisglasses @newworldwritings @chicken-fifi @thunderous-wolf @shythinggiver @madnpan @yandere-stories @anxiousskylar @frobin4ever @starssongs98 @kamabokogonpachro @dollce-exe @jan-l @lovelyred2 @haven-cove @watermelon2319 @dreamingofyeo @akimkim @scuzmunkie @satsuri3su @mismatchfluffysocks @borntoshineateez @st4rhwa @ddaeing @tropicalsstuff @bts-army380 @skteezcursed @beauty143 @naps-over-degree @idfkeddieishot @sis-101 @lemon-sage17 @jcalicocatj
Tumblr media
All Rights Reserved © edenesth // DO NOT REPOST, TRANSLATE, PLAGIARISE OR REPURPOSE.
567 notes · View notes