#I liked Enterprise even on my third time through

[snakeredbirdbatkatana]

You Didn't Save me (I begged You Not To)

Lex Luthor is not a good man.

He is a literal supervillain, he's also more than aware of the consent issues of what he did when he created Connor.

Yet he is surprised by how furious Superman is making him.

Not that he isn't always angry with Superman but before it wasn't quite so personal.

It was a bigger issue what Superman stood for what he was but right now he's not picking the fight with Superman but with Clark Kent.

He has spent as much time as possible studying everything about kryptonian's from their weakness to their language.

Essentially, Superman should keep better track of his belongings.

Kon-El means abomination.

Lionel Luthor was never a kind man he knows exactly why he is who he is today. He still has slight scars from his fathers belt. Cruel words that years after his father's death, will still haunt his memories.

When he was younger he was friends with Bruce Wayne before being a Villain was his priority.

He remembers hiding at Wayne Manor a feeling of safety he had never felt before.

He's also more than aware that his old friend is running around as a Bat.

Bruce Wayne even as a child always stood for hope was always ready to change the world to stand for something better.

That's is why years later Lex Luthor is knocking on a door that he's not hundred percent sure he won't be turned away from.

Yet Kon-El means abomination.

"Mr. Luthor I was unaware Master Bruce was expecting you?"

Alfred looks older than Lex remembers for some reason the man always seemed above aging untouchable even by time.

"He's not, I need to speak with him please it's urgent."

He is a Luthor begging is below him, but right now he feels fourteen again, with the belief that the people within Wayne Manor can fix anything.

"Of course. Master Bruce is in his study, I will lead you please follow me Mr. Luthor."

He doesn't bring up how he knows the way. That he once ran chasing after Bruce hiding in that very study. That they had broken a vase playing like little boys did. He doesn't bring up crying, terrified that Alfred had promised him no harm should come to him in these halls.

He doesn't correct how he used to be Master Lex. He lost that privilege long ago.

It's been a very long time since he has laid eyes on Bruce Wayne he's seen the tabloids, even a passing glance at a gala but for some reason he didn't picture slight gray hair, a dark black suit, he imagined a Gotham Academy Uniform or a Nirvana Shirt that Lex always wanted to steel but never quite worked up the courage.

He doesn't even hear Alfred's depart he can't tear his eyes away from Bruce.

His throat is dry like all the moisture has somehow left since he walked through the doors.

He is Lex Luthor but right now he doesn't remember what that means.

"Kon-El means abomination did you know that?"

His voice weak. Bruce's face doesn't change, blank.

" I am not my Father. I don't know what to do but I refuse for my child to think he isn't loved by at least one of his parents."

He breathes.

"All those year ago, you told me that you would help that all I had to do was ask, I was an idiot, it's too late for me but not for him."

Bruce's voice startles him he hasn't realized how deep in his own mind he had sank.

"All you had to do was ask."

Bruce's face painted in the same smirk as if they were eighteen again smoking on the manors roof.

Lex Luthor is not a good person, but for Connor Luthor he will try he will rebuild bridges, bend his pride he will beg on his knees.

He never understood how a parent should be or what it really meant to wake up everyday and have your whole being dedicated to loving and protecting something.

As he watches the rise and fall of his child's chest wrapped in the arms of the third Robin safe in his penthouse behind security straight from Wayne Enterprises and he doesn't regret it.

He know's he would do it all over again and when next Sunday comes and he gets a invite to brunch that he never throught he would see again he knows it was all for the better.

[theblue6ook]

Other Lovers

Summary: Here’s something I didn’t tell you. Our charming bachelor Bruce is still invested in his old fling Rachel and our beautiful assistant Y/N is engaged (but not for long hehehe).

Pairing: Bruce Wayne x fem!reader

a/n: Listen there’s a reason it’s called a slow burn. For more context you can follow the full “Out of My League” series. Also, Y/N is just turning 22, this is doubling as her birthday post. [B (23) Y/N (22)] [Eventual slow burn with Bruce] [Y/N/N is your nickname]

Y/N had known Danny Russel since primary school. He started working at her dad’s mechanic shop in middle school. They started dating in high school. Russ and her were stupid teenagers in love doing stupid teenager things. Going to Chuck’s Chili way too late on a school night. Taking the cars they were working on drifting. Fooling around in said cars…

He’s been there for her since the beginning. Him and Carrie sat and supported her through her run in with the cops, when her dad kicked her out. Even after she decided to further her education, he was there… on his knee… proposing at eighteen. Again, stupid teenagers in love.

They weren’t stupid teenagers anymore.

It had been a long engagement and she was no where near ready to get married and he was… Russ. Always ready for anything. Always ready to tie the knot and that was great. It was, but they had no money and honestly, they’re in different places right now. Russ really wanted to focus on his music. She needed to focus on Bruce. She means work. Whatever. Bruce is her work okay? When he’s stressed it’s her job to get shit done and he seems really on edge lately.

Plus, her and Russ were kind of going through a rough patch. He didn’t exactly seem pleased she was working with Bruce Wayne or even that she was working at Wayne Enterprises. It had always been her and Russ against the world, but now she was in that world. It didn’t exactly sit right with him no matter how much money she made. But she was trying to schedule a date with him anyway. Well a birthday date. It was her birthday. Bruce had been nice enough to make a reservation for her and a plus one at his restaurant downtown. People waited months to get a table and she had one in less than a day. He assured her it was all his treat for her birthday and to go crazy. So she wanted Russ to come. 

“Y/N/N, you have never been that girl who wants to go to The Occult or whatever it is.” She had been sitting at the office on the phone with Russ for the past 15 minutes trying to convince him to come with her. It was getting to be too much.

“It’s The Ocelot, Russ,” she hissed into the phone. She was trying to be quiet about their spat, but everytime she thought they were taking three steps forward it was five steps back. Rubbing her eyes she said, “Seriously don’t be like this. Bruce is just trying to do something nice.”

“That’s great. Let’s let the millionaire finally do something nice for everyone else.”

“He’s a billionaire, actually.”

“Jesus, Y/N/N I am not going to be caught dead in that snobby place. Lets just do something casual babe. Let me take you to Chucks-”

“Russ, I am twenty two years old,” she snapped, “I don’t want to go to the high school hangout and eat chili dogs. I want to look nice. I want to have a nice drink at a sophisticated restaurant.”

“Babe, I can’t afford to take you there. It is what it is,” he stated so condsending. Like his word was god. Like there was no way in the world he could even show up.

“Well shit good thing you don’t have to worry about the money. It’s already paid for, I have told you this. This is the third time I’m telling you this.”

She could tell they were both getting frustrated and Y/N knows they should take a step back. Compromise. But she had done a lot of compromising lately and what had he been doing? This was her birthday. Was it too much to ask her fiance to take her to a nice restaurant? He didn’t even have to pay for it. He just had to show up.

“Since when did you take handouts,” he scolded. “That’s not the Y/N I know.”

“I’ve got to go, Russ,” she sighed and hung up before he could say anything else.

The conversation felt so backhanded. Everytime she talked to him she felt like she was getting scolded for having a nice job, nice clothes, and nice things. Her boss wants to reward her with a birthday dinner. You’re taking handouts. His driver drops her off at home when she has to work late. Why does Bruce Wayne know your schedule so well? She’s been so excited for this new opportunity, but everytime she wants to talk with him about it he doesn’t want to hear about it. The bands not doing well. I’m busy bartending tonight. What do you mean you have to work early tomorrow? No, I won’t come to your birthday dinner.

It made her question herself. He was making her question herself. Maybe I should just cancel the reservation. I’m being difficult. She picked up the phone again and dialed The Ocelot.

“Hi, I was just calling to cancel my dinner reservation.” A hand came from over her shoulder and took the phone out of her hand, hanging it up. She didn’t even need to look over her shoulder, she knew it was Bruce Wayne.

“I was using that, Mr.Wayne,” she sighed, picking up the phone and redialing the number. He took it out of her hand again and unplugged the phone line. She turned to him, “What is your problem?”

“Why are you canceling your birthday dinner?” he looked at her quizically. “It’s free. I’m paying for it. You love free things.”

“That doesn’t mean anything. Everyone loves free things,” she mumbled as she started look up their other contact information on the computer. Maybe I can find an email.

“Even the rich,” he added, “but that doesn’t answer my question.” He leaned his forearms on the front of her desk and hit the off button on her computer so she had no choice but to looked at him.

She leaned her head back into her chair and closed her eyes groaning in defeat, “My fiance, he’s… busy so I’m not sure who I’d really go with.”

“Your fiance is busy… on your birthday.” She gave him a glare that said, just go with it. “Why don’t you take Carrie then?”

“I shouldn’t she has a lot going on-”

“You don’t want to tell her he screwed up again do you?”

“How did you know he screwed up in the first place?”

He shrugged, “I’ve been talking to Alfred.”

“About my love life?”

“What else is there?” So many other things, but it didn’t matter Y/N decided she was done talking about herself. She decided to pivot.

“You know Rachels going to be at the Ocelot too. I saw it on the Gotham Gazette” She looked up at him. “She’s going out with Harvey Dent to celebrate his campaign.”

“How do you know about Rachel?” She gave him that look. 

“Alfred,” he sighed.

-

It wasn’t that Bruce was in love with Rachel he just missed her. A lot. He missed their late night conversations. He missed having someone down to Earth who understood the crazy uptown world they were in. He missed talking with someone about his… night shift. Most importantly, he missed his friend and the fact that she was his friend made him love her. He didn’t even mean to. He just did.

So what was he supposed to do besides… offer to bring the entire Gotham Ballet to The Ocelot the exact day Rachel and Harvey would be there. He didn’t have a choice; she forced his hand. In all actuality, he wasn’t just moving them around for Rachel. Bane is still on the move trying to steal and harbor chemicals and the next CEO he was planning on visiting had made it obvious they were going to the Gotham Ballet. So… kill two birds with one stone. 

Next episode we’ll see Bruce and Y/N “happen upon” each other at the Ocelot. Maybe old flings don’t need to be flung anymore. It’s time for something new and hot (like birthday candles :D)

Also, this was not edited so sorry, I'm MIA this week. I just scheduled this in advance to keep y'all fed this week.

@pank0w @moejoeflow @padsfirewhisky

[obsidianmichi]

The crazy part about Star Trek Online is that it's stuffed full of cameos and missions that repeatedly star characters from the main cast of every major Star Trek show except, I think, Enterprise, Strange New Worlds, and Lower Decks.

Like you can go on a fully voiced adventure with Michael Burnham and Seven of Nine in her Fenris Rangers era to decide whether the Excalbians will embrace good or evil and fight Seven's evil simulation created body double.

Worf, voiced by Michael Dorn, Worf is in the major Iconian missions and a central figure for Klingon players as they shoot up the ranks.

Martok, voiced by John Garman Hertzler Jr. (rescue him from the Tzenkethi and go on so many missions together as random space adventures, and he's just like he is in DS9.)

Almost the entire cast of Deep Space Nine, including René Auberjonois's final voicework as Odo before his passing, the same for Aron Eisberg as Nog, Nana Visitor as Kira Nerys, and there's an entire episode where you play as Quark and his Ferengi friends stealing from Iconians. Even Salome Jens pops up as the Female Changeling to play a villain in the Gamma Quandrant arcs. Plus, Chase Masterson got in ahead of them all to chew through the scenery as Leeta's Mirror counterpart, Admiral Leeta!

Levar Burton as Geordi LaForge!

Janeway and Mirror Janeway voiced by Kate Mulgrew. (Mirror Janeway is a Borg Queen!)

Denise Crosby as my Romulan main's new adopted mother, Empress Sela and her mother, Natasha Yar. There's also Tuvok (my love!), Tom Paris, Harry Kim, Seven of Nine, Jason Isaacs voicing Prime Gabriel Lorca (!!) in the Discovery missions, Tilly and my much beloathed nemesis Mirror Tilly, Stamets, and Michael Burnham. Most recently we've gotten Mirror Wesley Crusher and Mirror Doctor Crusher during Picard's third season, and Ezri Dax in the latest episodes.

There's also Leonard Nemoy, who voiced the major exploration sections and Fed character level ups in the initial game but that's been in at launch.

It's honestly impressive. Every time I turn around it feels like another Star Trek alum is lending their voice to the game. Star Trek Online is somehow the most blessed and the most cursed tie-in game in existence. The dream and the hellscape for Star Trek fans.

Also, the space combat is genuinely really fun.

[nerdynarrator28]

Unexpected Protector

Summary: When living in a small town everyone tends to know everybody, except for one day when running your family Diner you come face to face with a six-foot-five of a man who looked like he could be trouble? Who is this man? What does he want? You were about to find out!

Jack Reacher X Reader

word count: 682

warnings: Just Straight Fluff!❤️

a/n: This is my very first Reacher (Prime) x Reader fanfic, I hope you all will enjoy!

The first time you saw Jack Reacher, you mistook him for trouble. Six-foot-five of solid muscle, hands like sledgehammers, and eyes that seemed to see right through you. But trouble, it turned out, was what he specialized in solving.

Your family's diner had been in Millbrook for generations, but lately, things had gotten rough. Protection rackets, vandalism, and not-so-veiled threats. The local police seemed helpless - or worse, complicit.

Reacher had wandered in one rainy Tuesday, ordered coffee and pie, and somehow ended up dismantling a criminal enterprise by Friday. You'd been skeptical at first, but watching him work was like witnessing a force of nature.

"Why are you helping us?" you asked him on the third day, as he pored over town records in the back booth.

He looked up, those piercing eyes meeting yours. "Because it's the right thing to do."

Simple. Direct. Just like everything about Jack Reacher.

You found yourself seeking out his company, bringing him fresh coffee, sitting with him as he explained his theories. His mind was as impressive as his physical presence - sharp, analytical, missing nothing.

By the time the dust settled and the corrupt officials were in cuffs, you realized something had shifted inside you. The way your heart raced when he entered a room. How you hung on his every word. The dreams that left you flushed and breathless.

You were falling for Jack Reacher.

On his last night in town, you closed up the diner late. He was still there, nursing a final cup of coffee.

"So," you said, sliding into the booth across from him. "Where will you go now?"

He shrugged. "Wherever the road takes me. That's the way I live."

Your heart sank, even though you'd known this was coming. Reacher never stayed in one place long.

"I... we'll miss you around here," you managed, trying to keep your voice steady.

He studied you for a long moment, and you felt exposed, as if he could read every emotion on your face.

"Come with me," he said suddenly.

You blinked, sure you'd misheard. "What?"

"Come with me," he repeated. "Just for a while. See some of the country. You've spent your whole life in this town. Don't you want to know what's out there?"

Your mind raced. The diner. Your family. Your whole life was here. But then you thought about the spark you'd felt this past week. The excitement. The way Reacher had awakened something in you that you hadn't even known was sleeping.

"I... I can't just leave," you said, but it sounded weak even to your own ears.

Reacher leaned forward, his eyes intense. "You can. The question is, do you want to?"

You took a deep breath, feeling as if you were standing on the edge of a cliff. Then, slowly, you nodded.

A rare smile crossed Reacher's face. "Pack light. We leave at dawn."

As you rushed home to throw some clothes in a bag, your heart pounded with a mixture of terror and exhilaration. You were about to embark on an adventure with a man who was practically a stranger. A dangerous, brilliant, compelling stranger who had swept into your life like a hurricane.

You didn't know where this road would lead. You didn't know if Reacher felt even a fraction of what you were feeling for him. But for the first time in your life, you were choosing the unknown over the familiar. And as scary as it was, it felt right.

Dawn found you climbing into Reacher's latest used car, your small bag tossed in the back. As the first rays of sunlight painted the sky, you took one last look at your hometown.

"Ready?" Reacher asked.

You turned to him, heart full of hope and budding love. "Ready."

The engine roared to life, and you set off towards the horizon, towards adventure, towards the promise of something new. With Jack Reacher by your side, you felt ready for anything.

@ellieslittleburrow

[foxymoxynoona]

After the Applause Ch. 8

Header and linebreaks by @awrkives

Single Dad Jimin x Female OC

SUMMARY: Jimin doesn't know how he would have made it this far after the shattering of his world without the support of his thoughtful, generous, helpful neighbor. Hanbyul has lived next to hottie Jimin and his adorable daughter for years now, long enough to remember the wife he was so devoted to and lost far too young. With each safely ensconced on their side of the brick wall of the Parks' grief, it will take an enterprising little scientist to set the stage for a second chance at love.

CW/tags: grief, prior loss of spouse/parent, comfort, explicit sex, secondhand embarrassment, sort of love triangle/web/rat's nest, fluff, cursing, dating apps, fuckboy friends, dancer Jimin, stubborn dad Jimin, stubborn pre-teen daughter, miscommunication, pining

Previous Chapter | Masterlist | Next Chapter

Taehyung and Jungkook were annoyingly chipper from the moment they walked through the door. Jimin hadn’t even invited Jungkook, but both of these guys were the type to let themselves in, maybe without a knock, and help themself to whatever was in your kitchen before you even got home from work. Mostly he loved it. 

“Where’s my daughter?” Jungkook called. 

“That’s not how babysitting works!” Sunnie shouted back down the hall, just like she did every time Jungkook made this joke when he came over. 

“Let me live, Sun-young. That’s no way to speak to your appa-for-an-evening!”

Jimin grinned at their antics but focused on his reflection in the mirror, straightening his collar, tugging his sleeves into place. He brushed at his hair, smile sliding away. It was such a harsh contrast. Totally different. He worried he looked… sickly. Did it look greasy? He ran his fingers through it like usual, but it fell back into the center part. Maybe he should have left it longer… or gone shorter to start? It was risky to change his appearance so much right before a first date, wasn’t it? This was a pretty drastic change and if even he was having a hard time with it…

“Do you need a pep talk?” Sunnie asked from the doorway.

He plastered on a smile and laughed, “No. Why would I need a pep talk?”

“You look worried.”

“Is it the hair?” Taehyung asked over her head.

“Why? What’s wrong with my hair?” Jimin quickly asked, fluffing it again.

“Nothing’s wrong,” Taehyung laughed. “It looks good. Great, even! But you keep messing with it.”

“It’s so different,” Jimin admitted.

“Different isn’t bad,” Sunnie wisely reminded. “I think it looks nice!” He almost asked if she was glad, because her schoolfriends had made that comment about his blond hair, but decided against it. That was not a factor in his decision, and he didn’t it was on her mind either as she smiled so nicely at him. 

He drew a deep breath and agreed, “I think it looks nice too. I’m just… nevermind.”

“Nervous?” Sunnie asked.

“No no, I’m not. I don’t want to talk about this,” he said and waved his hands to get them to clear out of the doorway so he could leave the bathroom.

“It’s ok to be nervous before something big.”

“It’s not big, it’s…” Just Hanbyul, he thought, but that was both true and not true. It was “just Hanbyul” –nice, supportive, easy-going Hanbyul. He enjoyed spending time with her and now he’d have the whole evening with her undivided attention. But at the same time, it wasn’t just anything, it was a date. There was a point to hanging out this time: hopefully to earn a second date. And a third and a fourth and– suddenly the future overwhelmed him. What was he rushing into, going on a date? He barely had stability with his daughter!

A knock on the door made them all turn. 

Jungkook snickered, “Is she coming to pick you up?”

He didn’t think so but worried their date was already starting with a miscommunication. He crossed quickly and threw it open, ready to apologize that he wasn’t quite ready yet, he needed a few more minutes to debate his visual choices–

Seokjin stood on the other side, looking wide-eyed and surprised, like Jimin was the one who had shown up at his house unexpectedly. 

“Didn’t you go yet?” Seokjin gasped. “Are you late? When did you change your hair?”

“I’m not late, I’m about to go. What are you doing here?”

“We’re having a party and there will be dancing,” Sunnie giggled as Seokjin slid past and caught her when she jumped up for a flying hug. “Don’t worry about us, Appa. Have fun on your date! Don’t forget the flowers!” She had helped him pick them out on the way home when they passed a vending machine with bouquets inside and he’d audibly gasped, realizing he had almost forgotten.

“Why do you need three babysitters? This is trouble.” All four blinked at him and he sighed, “Whatever, I don’t have time for this. I have a date to get to.”

“Hey I came over so there would be an adult here,” Seokjin defended, which everyone promptly ignored. 

“Yeah, get going,” Taehyung ordered. “Don’t keep her waiting.”

“Women like men who are on time,” Sunnie agreed with an emphatic nod of her head.

“What do you know about women?” Jungkook demanded.

“I’m a woman!”

“Someday,” he snorted. “Don’t rush it, mini-Mochi. You’ll make us all feel old. You can’t get married until I am.” 

Jimin couldn’t help but think the same thing, that she was getting too drawn into something grown up like “dating”. What if knowing too much about his dating life was making Sun-young grow up too quickly? He really ought to be hiding all of this from her, he kept thinking about that, about how devastating it was going to be for Sunnie if dating Hanbyul didn’t work out. Little girls shouldn’t know their dads were going on dates, right? He didn’t want to risk her getting hurt.

Well it was too late now. She knew and was exuberant about it –unless this was all excitement about an evening with her uncles, which was entirely possible. Jimin gave up on getting an answer as to why all three of them had come. He hadn’t asked for this, so he wouldn’t feel guilty about their unpaid babysitting. He’d only asked Taehyung! Probably it meant they were planning to play games after Sun-young went to bed. 

“Be good,” he called over his shoulder.

“He means all of you,” Sun-young teased, then let out a shriek of laughter as Seokjin tossed her onto the couch so Taehyung could get the remote first. 

Jimin felt a little jealous to leave. That lasted until he closed the door, flowers in hand. He grinned as Hudu’s barking sped closer to Hanbyul’s door when he buzzed, then the thud of the pup jumping against it. He could only make out the murmur of Hanbyul’s voice and felt his heart dip in his chest. Ah, he was really this excited, huh? It wasn’t even really nerves, though he licked his lips and ran his hands through his hair and fidgeted which could all appear so. Maybe he was a little nervous. But really, truthfully, he was just really excited to get to spend the evening with her.

“Sorry,” she said, swinging the door opening and flinching as Hudu tried to escape her hold. “Am I late? I’m not late, am I?” She shook her head as a lock of hair escaped her updo and fell across her forehead and Jimin resisted the impulse to reach out and brush it back. 

“Is Hudu coming with us?” he asked instead, hoping it sounded smooth because his brain shut down regarding anything else. She had a red cardigan on over her red dress; even though the dress reached her knees, she looked incredibly sexy. He was stupefied. 

“Oh my god your hair!” she gasped.

“I’ve never seen you in that color before,” Jimin said before realizing what she’d said, seconds before she did what he had not been brave enough to do and reached up to touch. 

Jimin would have stayed frozen for the rest of the night if she’d kept playing with his hair, but Hudu took the opportunity to try and claim a kiss, which made Hanbyul cry out in pain as his little feet scrabbled against her chest. 

Without thinking, Jimin pressed his hand to cover her chest and protect it, just as she turned to toss Hudu back into the apartment, resulting in Jimin sliding his hand across her chest and accidentally cupping her breast.

He gasped and pulled his hand away, stammering, “Ah, sorry, I–” Hanbyul shut the door and looked up at him with obvious alarm. Horrified, he waved his hands and said again, “Sorry, I didn’t mean to… touch…” In trying to explain, he made an unfortunate squeezing hand gesture.

Hanbyul pressed her hand to her cheek and laughed, “I didn’t think you did. It’s all right.” Jimin felt like it was a pretty offensive start to the date, and the moment of awkward silence that followed made it worse. He didn’t know what else to say. He was stuck on how stunning she looked, bold and bright in a way she did not usually dress, classy as always, like she knew how to command a date or a boardroom or anything else she wanted to command. By contrast Jimin felt rather rumpled now. He’d stylishly tucked in only half of his black and white button-up but now worried it looked too casual, or like he’d done it by mistake. Was she thinking that, that he wasn’t stylish enough to go to a company dinner on her arm?

“I just locked my key in my apartment,” she said, voice level so it took a moment for him to register what she’d actually said. 

“You what?”

“I closed my door… my whole purse is in there still,” she said, holding her hands out to show they were empty. For another moment they just stared at each other. It wasn’t like her, so far as he knew, to be forgetful like that. In a way it put him at ease. Was she just as nervous and excited about this as he was?!

“You look incredible,” he said, because he couldn’t wait any longer to say it. “Even without your purse.”

“Thank you. Your hair really does look nice,” she said, her gaze focused on it while his resisted the pull of the red fabric running down her body.

“Yeah? I wasn’t sure… I’ve been blond for so long.”

“What made you change it?”

“I don’t know… I just felt like it was time for a change –uh, should I call the landlord?”

“Yes– wait! Don’t you have my–”

“Oh yeah I have a key from when I was checking on Hudu!” he realized. “Wait here please.” She didn’t actually need to wait there although he figured it was better not to parade her through his apartment where three of his friends and Sunnie would leap at the opportunity to pester her. He avoided their questions on his own, claiming to have forgotten something as he dug around the bowl of coins and keys by the front door until he found the one belonging to Hanbyul.

“Sorry, I should have returned this,” he admitted, setting it in her palm.

“I’m glad you didn’t or we’d spend our date waiting for the landlord,” she said, bowing politely before pushing the door open and disappearing inside “Thank you, one moment please.”

It was more than one moment. At almost five minutes, Jimin was almost ready to fear she’d gotten cold feet when she appeared again, murmuring to Hudu before sliding out the door, this time with her black purse over her shoulder. He didn’t know what had taken her so long to find her purse but decided not to ask. He remembered Subin telling him that, how women had to be allowed to have some mystery to them.

Damnit, he didn’t need Subin giving him advice right now.

And yet it was darkly comforting, the idea that Subin would be in his mind. It didn’t depress him at all, it instead made him feel calmer and cooler as he pushed the elevator buttons with Hanbyul ramrod straight beside him. He had loved Subin and she had loved him, and she would want him to find happiness again, because he knew in his heart he would have wanted the same for her. It was hard, being lonely. 

He’d managed to win over an amazing woman years before. Maybe he could pull it off again.

“Is it true that lightning doesn’t strike twice?” Jimin asked. Hanbyul looked understandably confused by the question. “It sounds like one of those things that people say but it isn’t actually true.”

“If only Sun-young was here, she might know,” Hanbyul suggested with a smile. 

“Maybe I’ll look it up– no, I won’t,” he decided, pulling out and then slipping back his phone. It would be a strange thing to do on his date. 

“Look it up,” she insisted. “Otherwise I’ll be thinking about it all night instead of…”

“Instead of me?” Jimin laughed. “Damn, science is really out for me, huh? First Sunnie, now you… What does science have that I don’t?”

He adored Hanbyul in that moment so strongly he held his breath, for the way she played along with him, tapping her chin and thinking out loud, “Hm… well… science can cook.”

He laughed and whined and argued, “But science can’t… dance, science can’t… uh… open the door for you.” He did so.

“Well, technically you used physics to–”

“Science is all questions, Hanbyul,” he interrupted. “No answers, just guesses and maybe you’re right, maybe you’re wrong.”

“I have a lot of questions about you too,” she countered. “Guesses, but no answers.” 

He failed to think of what to say to that, just froze facing her, mouth open, ready for words that didn’t appear. He was not usually so easily flustered into silence. What did she mean by that? She had answers about him. 

“You have answers,” he tried. “I am the answer.”

“To… what hypothesis?”

“Woah woah, simple words please, Sunnie is the scientist, not me.”

“What question are you the answer to?” she asked, such a coy question, surely her mind was thinking the same things. Who is the right person for me? Who cares for me? Who could I see myself building a life with? Who do I want to see at the end of the day and wake up next to and call over a minor inconvenience or majorly good news? 

He was getting carried away. He would have felt worse about it if her face didn’t turn such a deep shade of pink as she looked shyly away. That made him want to melt at her feet.

“Who is buying you dinner tonight?” he suggested to save them both, and pulled out his phone to order a car.

“Did we say that? I thought I could pay this time…” she murmured and he pretended not to hear.

**

“How’s your food?” Jimin asked, knife and fork pausing on his steak as he waited for Hanbyul’s answer.

She was mid-bite and covered her face to chew more quickly before she could answer, “Yes, it’s very good.”

“My friend recommended this place so if it’s bad… you can tell me and I’ll take you somewhere else.”

“It’s good,” she assured him. He had already told her that, that Yoongi recommended it after Jimin told him he wanted to take Hanbyul somewhere nicer for the date than Yoongi’s restaurant, and how Yoongi had said they’d probably just end up at his place anyway. 

Hanbyul thought Jimin just wanted her to know he’d brought her somewhere nice on purpose, which was sweet. She appreciated it, even though she was definitely going to insist on paying. This was the 21st century and he had a child to raise and she thought she might make more money than him, though she wasn’t sure. Maybe that wasn’t true. She sure wasn’t going to ask! But still, she thought it very important for him to know that she was the type of modern woman who met someone halfway in a relationship. Of which she had limited experience, perhaps, certainly nothing to the level of marriage but still. It was the principle. 

Her answer was honest: the food was very good. Yoongi had chosen well. The restaurant was beautiful, the atmosphere romantic, Jimin had chosen a fantastic red wine which Hanbyul drank too quickly. It felt fake to be sitting in a place like this with Jimin. Not that a man had never brought her to a Japanese steak house before, but it wasn’t what she had envisioned with Jimin. Maybe she should have dressed nicer, but she’d really thought the dress might be the right balance of sexy and safe for her. Maybe Jimin would expect someone fashionable, so she wanted to try. She wasn’t unfashionable usually, right? Her sister had helped her pick out the dress over a video call months before but it had never felt like the right time to wear with Namjoon so it had just been hanging there, waiting for tonight.

“Hanbyul?”

“Hm?” She’d missed whatever he said and sipped her wine to cover her embarrassment. It wasn’t that her mind kept wandering. It was just that he was talking so much and she couldn’t think of anything to say. Since the moment she’d begun to dress tonight, she had the feeling she was preparing for a job interview. Yes, she’d secured the date but that was just the interview. She needed to demonstrate she was mature and responsible and reliable and a good influence for his daughter, and also fun and sexy but not too sexy, and engaging… she was not doing a good job being engaging. Her flustered attempts at jokes probably seemed like she was trying too hard because she was. 

Maybe he didn’t notice though. He’d transitioned from the latest music he’d heard and wanted to incorporate into the next recital –not the one coming up, but the one he’d dance in next– to movies.

“I’ve been watching movies lately,” he said. “The movies that I’ve been watching… well, not many. Maybe three, I watch at night while I’m folding laundry or working out after Sunnie goes to sleep.”

“Oh? Anything you enjoyed?”

“Ah… this one, I don’t remember what it was called…” He trailed off and took another bite of his steak. He glanced at her plate and she sensed he was about to ask her how it was again but then caught himself. He took a sip of his wine too and this time paused, waiting, clearly for her to choose a topic.

“Um…” No, she shouldn’t say um. “I need to take Hudu to the vet soon.”

Instantly Jimin’s face shifted to concern as he gasped, “Oh no, is something wrong?”

“Oh. No, just for grooming –his nails are too long and he needs some shots.”

“Ah, you scared me,” he laughed. “How would you feel if I said that? I need to take Sunnie to the doctor soon.”

“Sorry, that would scare me!” she admitted. “I just meant… I don’t know what else to talk about.”

“I’m not very good at conversation. Maybe I’m talking too much,” he sighed with a shake of his head. Hanbyul didn’t think either of those things was true at all. “I do that when I’m nervous.”

“Why are you nervous?” she asked without thinking it through. 

He looked at her in surprise and then laughed, “It’s my first date with you, did you forget?”

“I definitely didn’t forget I just… don’t know what you have to be nervous about,” she said, attempting to sound casual through the giddy jump of her heart. “I mean, you’re so charming.”

He immediately latched onto that and leaned forward, chin in his hand as he pressed, “I’m charming? You think so?”

“I agreed to the date, didn’t I?”

“I charmed you into it. I was worried you might see through it. I’m a nervous wreck. I’m not good at the whole–”

He gestured and she didn’t know what that meant but could honestly say, “That’s what’s so charming about you. You’re sincere. You care so much.”

“I do,” he conceded. “That’s why I never could have been ready to date if it was anyone but you.”

“Why is that?” She was afraid it would show on her face how impossibly thrilled this made her. Really? Only her? That couldn’t be true. 

His grin was the sort that made your heart start, the type of beautiful smile that if she knew him any less she would think was just a play. He had to know the power of that smile, he had to be doing it on purpose. But she could see the way it paired with a softness around his eyes, a slight self-conscious squint.

“You’ve seen the confusing mess I can be and it didn’t already chase you away so maybe…” he looked at the ceiling in thought. “Maybe it can be ok if I talk too much or the restaurant isn’t good or it rains on our walk home.”

“I wouldn’t hold the rain against you. And if the food is bad, we’ll just wind up at your friend’s restaurant,” she pointed out.

“That’s true, we can.”

“But the food is really good. And if you talk too much when you’re nervous, that’s good, because I get quieter when I’m nervous, and that way we can still have a nice conversation.”

“Maybe a little one sided.”

“Maybe a little one-sided,” she agreed with a laugh. “Until we get on a topic I’m passionate about and then maybe you’ll– be bored–” She broke off, realizing with a start his hand had been creeping towards her’s on the table only because it suddenly pulled away. Her heart flipped. Had he been going to hold her hand and stopped, or was she misunderstanding? Maybe he’d only been reaching for his cup on the wrong side. Still, she kept her hand there, even though it felt too far forward. She was curious. She would have loved for him to take her hand, even if it made eating awkward. But maybe she’d misunderstood and that was too forward. She expected things might move slowly with him and that was perfectly alright.

He didn’t act like he’d just tried to hold her hand, just lifted his glass and insisted, “Ok, let’s hear it. What things are you really passionate about?”

“Me? Um…”

“Gender equality,” he said. “Hudu.”

“Yes, yes.”

“Winter.”

Again she nodded.

“What else? I feel like so much of my time with you has been demanding your attention for things in my life. I want to know so much more about you.”

“I’m not that compelling,” she tittered self-consciously.

“I think you are.” Now it was her turn to look surprised and he actually flushed and pressed his hand to his forehead, crying, “Sorry, was that too blunt? You looked so surprised!”

“I’m not used to someone saying anything like that to me.”

“Why do you think I asked you out?” he teased. “You think I find you boring but kissed you anyway? Ah, it’s a good reminder though, I feel more confident now that you’ve reminded me you can be ridiculous too.”

“Jimin! I would never be ridiculous,” she joked, crossing her arms. “I have good reason for my nerves.”

“Tell me one good reason.”

“What if you’re scared away by something I say?”

“Like you have a crazy passion? Ok, tell me what it is, I’ll let you know if I can handle it.” He sat up straight, hands down on the table, body so serious and stiff but he was having a hard time keeping a straight face.

“Snakes.”

“You’re lying,” he said, instantly curling in.

“I’m not, I think they’re very interesting!”

“Snakes are– ok, maybe it’s time to get the bill–”

“Jimin!” she laughed and tried to nudge him under the table. His joking and pretense of standing up had made several people look over, but Hanbyul didn’t feel self conscious about it at all. In fact she felt a little proud that people would see her here with this handsome man smiling and having a good time with her. 

“Do you really like snakes?”

“I’ve only actually ever seen them at the zoo, never up close,” she admitted. “But there are some really interesting blogs about them I read if I can’t sleep.”

“You’re kidding.”

But she wasn’t and when she shook her head, he laughed and sighed, “Ok tell me what else. What other snakes do you have in your pockets? If Sunnie finds out she’s going to ask to get a pet snake.”

“Does she like snakes?”

“She likes anything you like, I think,” he suggested. 

“I don’t think so. She has such a beautiful mind of her own. We do like some of the same things though.” 

“Sorry, I was trying not to bring her up much tonight– oh, yes, I think we’ll take the dessert menu,” Jimin answered the waiter. But what he’d said struck Hanbyul, so as soon as the waiter left, she pressed him on it.

“What did you mean just now? You’re trying not to mention Sun-young?”

“I didn’t bring you on a date to just talk about my kid the whole time.”

“But I don’t mind at all! It’s all right if you need a break from being Appa but really, Jimin, I love to hear about her, you don’t have to worry you’ll talk to much about her.”

“I guess that’s true... It’s not like you don’t already know I have a daughter.”

“I figured it out,” she joked. 

“Probably because you watch so many crime documentaries, hm? That’s how you figured it out?” 

“How did you know that?” she gasped, sure she had never told him that.

“I figured it out,” he smirked. “You’ve mentioned a few times that you were jumpy after watching one. Don’t watch things that scare you, Hanbyul!”

“I like the solved ones where you get to see everything start to make sense. I don’t like the unsolved ones though, those keep me up at night.”

“And then you have to read snake blogs to calm down,” he laughed.

“Yes, but that’s a very normal interest though!”

“Snakes and crime documentaries,” he snickered. “And Minnie Mouse–”

“I hate that you saw that.” She covered her face. “How embarrassing.”

“Why? It was cute. Do you like Minnie Mouse?”

“She’s all right. To be honest I always liked Hello Kitty better, but my eomma had this idea that my sister and I needed to like different things, so she’d buy my sister Hello Kitty and me Minnie Mouse which made everyone in my family think I like Minnie Mouse, so…”

“Hold on, let me make a note of this, prefers Hello Kitty,” he joked, pretending to type it on his phone. “Your family doesn’t know that?”

She frowned, realizing, “I know that makes me sound like a pushover. I did tell my eomma when I was younger but then at some point, I didn’t want to seem ungrateful for gifts. It’s the thought that counts.”

“I wasn’t thinking that at all. I think of it as you were being thoughtful towards your family, but I,” he gestured, “would want to give you the thing you really want.”

“I don’t think you need to take notes on that,” she said, then heard herself and quickly reached for her glass of wine. It’s you. She couldn’t imagine ever being disappointed with anything Jimin gave her, simply because he took the effort to think of and get something for her. But really she’d been thinking something way more embarrassing: if I have you, what else is there?

“What sort of gifts do you like?” she countered to recover.

“I don’t think you need to worry about that,” he quickly dismissed. “Food and how well you get along with my daughter, that’s all for me.”

“There has to be more. What do you consider really romantic?”

He looked up in thought and the lights reflected in his eyes. They looked darker with his darker hair, the line of his brow looked heavier, his lips looked so much more pillowy with the contrast. Hanbyul could have said plenty before about how much she loved his blond hair, how natural and handsome the color suited him, but Jimin with dark hair managed to be even more stunnnigly handsome. She hadn’t been able to resist touching his hair earlier and wished she could do the same again. Maybe his hair color stood out less now in a restaurant full of dark hair but it made his natural good looks even more obvious. 

“To me it’s really more about the thoughtfulness and the effort,” he said. “So if I buy someone a bag, I want a gift they like so they know I have space for them in my mind, that the things they care about are important to me too. But there’s no physical gift to unwrap that means as much to me as when someone is there for you. That’s romance to me.”

“Yes,” Hanbyul said, awed by him. “Yes I think that too.”

“Like when you were there with Sunnie when I was so sick. I’ll never forget that.”

“It wasn’t a burden at all. She was much easier than you cleaning up after Hudu,” she countered.

“It really feels like we understand each other,” he said, but low under his breath, like it wasn’t entirely meant for her to hear. Her heart fluttered. She felt that way too, and it gave her confidence to relax slightly. Even if they weren’t used to a situation like this –a fancy dinner just the two of them– that was the part they could get used to in time. 

The dessert menu arrived, but when they didn’t either one see anything that called to them, they agreed to go elsewhere. Hanbyul insisted they split the check when it came, only to learn Jimin had already secretly paid for it and wouldn’t even explain to her how he’d managed the magic trick, because she hadn’t left the table since the beginning and neither had he.

“Then I’m buying dessert,” she insisted as he held the door for her. “And probably the next two dinners…”

Laughter bubbled out of him as he teased, “Ah, already planning more dates with me before this one is even done? I must be doing all right.”

“Yes, I think so,” she assured him. She poked him in the side and insisted, “We’ve known each other for a while. We can be casual with each other, you don’t have to hold the door for me.”

“On the contrary, Hanbyul, I used to feel casual with you, and now everything feels much more serious.”

“Don’t let it. It’s just me, friendly neighbor Hanbyul.”

He laughed, “You’re going to haunt me with that until old age, huh?” and stopped himself just before he poked her back. He missed her look of regret. She was hungry for his touch and didn’t want him worried there was a formal boundary like that; hadn’t she just said that? But maybe it was about his comfort, and she would respect that.

“Yes, I think I might,” she admitted, deciding to stick with verbal teasing. It was a joke, but a hopeful one: that they might have a future that extended far into old age.

She was too distracted to notice the movement of his hand until his fingers had brushed hers, a gentle question she answered by sliding hers through. His hand was warm, almost sweaty, despite the cool night air. She would have liked to say something clever or coy but found all thoughts left her mind as they walked down the street holding hands.

“Cake or ice cream?” he asked, the only question to break the silence during their walk.

“Cake.”

They found a sweet cafe further down near the park where conversation flowed more easily, like they were settling more into this unusual scenario. It was just a little challenging without Sun-young there to tug them forward, that was all, as Jimin told himself. But they picked different cakes and tried each, and he felt more confident here with how the lights sparkled in Hanbyul’s eyes when two samoyeds sauntered over to demand some pets, and once she was talking about Hudu, Jimin forgot to feel nervous at all.

“It was fate,” she explained about her meeting with Hudu. “Someone carried him in from the rain with the box his previous owner had put him in. He was so little, I couldn’t imagine how anyone could just abandon such a sweet boy like that, so I took him in.”

Jimin stopped himself before making what felt the very obvious comparison to himself and Hudu. Hanbyul had a soft spot for blond boys with big brown eyes who looked at her with adoration, was that it? He felt like she’d pulled him in out of the rain too. 

She paused only briefly when he took her hand, then continued her story about Hudu. He understood how much easier it was to talk about their babies; stories of Sun-young poured from him as well as they sat close together across the cafe booth. It was so quiet and casual that Jimin found himself beginning to doubt his plans for the rest of the evening.

“I think we need to change our date,” he admitted once they’d sat over empty plates long enough.

Hanbyul’s mouth opened so slightly that Jimin nearly leaned over to kiss it, she looked so soft and pretty. 

He resisted and quickly clarified, “I had planned to take you to a club so we could finally have our dance but I don’t really feel like sharing you with a noisy space right now.”

The flush on her face was so pretty that Jimin decided he needed to flirt more boldly with her, even if he felt nervous about it. She ducked her head and lifted her glass but it was empty. Cute cute, he thought. Then,

“Ah, I have an alternate idea though.”

“Ok…”

“Don’t be so nervous,” he laughed. “It’s a bit of a walk, is that ok?”

“I have nowhere to be, if it’s not too late for you.”

“Sun-young is probably in safe hands. She’s got three babysitters tonight so… maybe I should check in actually…”

He waited until they were outside and walking close together before he sent a group text, figuring someone would see it. Within minutes Seokjin had replied telling him to get off his phone, that wasn’t how you impress a woman, and to stop worrying about Sunnie, she was asleep. Then Taehyung and Jungkook berated Seokjin for not letting them answer with something funnier. At this point Jimin slipped his phone into his pocket and took Hanbyul’s hand for the third time now. 

“Everything ok?” she asked when he didn’t volunteer anything.

“Hm? Oh yeah, everything is fine. She’s asleep.”

“Maybe I should have sent Hudu over too for the company.”

“You could have! My friends would love Hudu. Do you think he’s lonely? Do we need to head back?”

Hanbyul looked like she regretted her joke and insisted, “No no, I  think he’s probably enjoying being king of the apartment for a few hours. Maybe he’s getting into mischief. He’s so smart, he knows how to cover his tracks, so I won’t find a purse he chewed up or an empty food bag for days or weeks and then he pretends like he has no idea how it got beneath the bed.”

“Ah, he’s so smart,” Jimin agreed. “Unless you’re the one eating your snacks in your sleep, and he’s really innocent.”

“Don’t let him convince you!” Hanbyul laughed.

“Are you sure you don’t eat snacks in your sleep?”

“Or chew purses?” she giggled and it was music to his ears, that giggle. He brought her hand to the inside of his elbow and pressed his other hand over it, because just holding hands didn’t feel close enough. He felt like he floated along beside her. He’d never dreamed he could feel this way about a woman again. 

He worried she was getting tired just when they reached the studio, dark inside except for a couple emergency lights that were always on upstairs.

“Is this ok?” he asked her.

She dropped her voice to a whisper and joked, “Are we allowed to be here?”

He whispered back, “I have it on good faith with the owner that it’s ok.” He unlocked the gate and pushed it up, then the door and held it open for her to enter.

“You’ve been here before, right?” he asked. 

“Just that time I dropped Sunnie’s bag off. Maybe another time I walked her here… not really inside.”

“Well, welcome to my other pride and joy, my second child,” he told her, flipping on lights as they went so she wouldn’t be scared in the dark. He wasn’t. He could walk this place blindfolded and only trip if one of the students had left their bag or shoes strewn about, which often did happen. He tried to see the place through her eyes as he led her around but couldn’t imagine what the big empty studios would look like to a non-dancer. Probably just big empty rooms. He began to worry that this was a dumb thing to do, bringing her here.

“You and your wife opened this place, right?” she asked as they entered the private back studio, his favorite one, where he’d intended the tour to finish.

Jimin froze, a flash of regret grabbing his shoulders. Shit. Yes. Yes they had and now he turned slowly to her, realizing he had brought her to a place that was meaningful to him and his late wife, to dance, which had been the uniting factor with him and his late wife.

“I… yes…”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to mention her if it’s… if that’s too painful or upsetting!” Hanbyul rushed out. “I just meant to get my Park Jimin history straight!”

“It’s not that I’m expecting you to– that I’m searching for a replacement for her or anything,” he rushed out just as quickly.

“That’s good because I really can’t dance!”

“I didn’t bring you here to… I’m sorry, I didn’t even think that it might make you uncomfortable to be here,” he apologized, flicking the light off and nudging her back towards the door. “I wasn’t thinking, I’m sorry.”

“No, you don’t need to be sorry, and we don’t need to go!” Hanbyul insisted, gently nudging him the opposite direction. She tried to reach the light but couldn’t find it, her hand searching along the wall as she insisted, “I’m not upset by that, truly.” She flicked the light switch but it was the lights around the mirrors rather than the overheads –admittedly a more romantic atmosphere anyway.

“Jimin,” she said, and he swallowed, bracing for whatever she had to say, aware of the much larger space between them right now than at any point during their walk. “I’m not… bothered or afraid or upset by the fact that you had a wife who you loved and she was taken from you. I’m heartbroken that you had to endure that kind of loss but I don’t feel like I’m competing.”

“You aren’t,” he said quickly. “And my feelings for her are in the past.”

Hanbyul gave him a gentle smile and pressed, “I don’t think they have to be. I’m certainly not the expert here but I think our hearts are big enough to love many people in many different ways throughout our lives. Ga Subin is someone who I greatly admire for who she was to you and Sun-young. I feel nothing but kind things for her, except regret that she didn’t get to have more time with you and your daughter. You don’t have to try and erase her from your life to make space for me. I hope you don’t feel that way.”

“I just don’t want you to feel like… like I’m comparing you two, or that I wish you were her. You’re two different women to me.” He stepped closer to her, hoping she could feel the earnest truth of his words. “I do wish I’d had more time with her, but I didn’t. I will always miss her, and you’re right, I can’t erase her even just for Sunnie’s sake but… but meeting you, getting closer to you, feels like you opened a door I didn’t even know was there, to a new future that I… I look forward to very much.” He lifted his hand, brushing his fingers against her jaw, overly aware of the way her mouth opened that soft small way again. 

“That’s… good. I’m glad to hear that.”  

“You can’t understand how much being with you has healed my heart,” he continued. “I’ll always carry the scar of Subin but you are such a big, bright, warm space in my chest that everything feels beautiful again. I’m so glad I knocked on your door that time Sun-young was sick.”

She hadn’t expected that reference, and let out a quiet laugh, “I’m glad you did too. I was happy to help.”

“I didn’t even know you well yet but from that moment on you made me feel like everything could be all right, like I could be happy again. I’m sorry it took me so long to reach the point I realized truly what you are to me. I didn’t think I could possibly earn a new future like this.”

“Don’t be,” she insisted, longing for his kiss. “You needed the time. I don’t resent that at all. It gave me time to make sure of what I really want too, if I think I can be who you and Sun-young deserve. I’m no Ga Subin and I won’t pretend to be but–”

“You’re my beautiful neighbor Hanbyul,” he grinned and leaned in, whispering millimeters from her lips, “who I’m head over heels for.” The longed for kiss captured Hanbyul’s heart as much as she’d expected it to, flooding her with warmth from scalp to heels. She bunched her fingers in the fabric of his shirt, feeling like she needed to grab something or she’d be swept away in him. There was no one else in that kiss but them, she didn’t feel at all like she was second, even here in this business he and his first love had built together. She had no doubt Jimin’s heart was big enough, only disbelief and honor that he’d pulled her into it. 

Mostly, though, she was just lost in the softness of his lips and how perfectly they danced with hers. 

“Ok,” he murmured, slowly backing up but tugging her with him. “Let’s dance?”

“I really don’t know how.”

“I saw you in the club, you were sexy.”

“I was drunk.”

“Well, I can make us some drinks too,” he grinned and then really did pull away. 

She crossed her arms and demanded, “Do you hide alcohol in your dance school!?”

“Not usually but we only have adult classes in this studio and sometimes we have a little night cap after rehearsal,” Jimin said, “Like last night.”

“The performance is coming up, right? You and Sunnie are both performing?”

“Sunnie’s last ballet recital,” he sighed.

“She’s staying in hiphop though, isn’t she?”

“Yes, that’s true. That’s a good way to look at it, I shouldn’t be so down about it,” he admitted, unlocking a cabinet in the back corner and pulling out two bottles of cider and a bottle of Tequila. “Which do you prefer?”

“Cider,” Hanbyul quickly answered. “Tequila would be a very different sort of night.”

“Hm, what sort of night would that be?” he teased, but locked the Tequila back inside. The story Hanbyul told him as they sat on the floor against the mirrors, sipping their cider, was not the sexy tale he clearly expected. It involved a company dinner she felt obligated to attend, tequila shots she felt obligated to partake in by her boss, and an intern holding her hair back as she puked on the walk home. 

“No tequila for you, got it,” he laughed. “But for the record, I’m the kind who will hold your hair back and bring you a glass of water and bufferin.”

“I don’t doubt it.”

“Will you come to the recital?” he suddenly asked, backtracking. It occurred to him suddenly that he hadn’t asked and shouldn’t assume she would, just because it felt so obvious to him that she ought to be there. He might be getting ahead of himself, slotting her mentally into his life so quickly.

“Of course I will, if I’m invited.”

“You’re invited. I’ll save a seat for you and dance my best to impress you.”

“I’m sure I’ll be impressed no matter what,” she admitted, already feeling it go to her head –the cider, the idea of watching Jimin dance on stage, the suggestion he was dancing for her. “When did you know you wanted to be a dancer?”

Listening to Jimin talk about his passions was like watching the sunrise. Hanbyul was transfixed. She regretted that she didn’t have some beautiful passion to talk about in the same way, and missed completely the way he watched her when she talked about what felt like such meager ambitions next to his. She wasn’t saving lives or adding beauty to the world through her work, but she had pride in what she did professionally and pleasure in her culinary endeavors outside of work.

Jimin suddenly looked stricken and asked, “When is your interview again?”

“The first round is next week.”

“Ah. You’ll do great. When is the next round?”

“Well I have to make it through the first.”

“You will,” he insisted.

“I hope so but…”

“But nothing,” he insisted. “Do you want to dance now?” He felt bad to cut her off, but he didn’t want to go further down what could be the one fly in the soup. Hanbyul deserved this better position, he had no doubt about that, even though getting it would take her away just as they were getting started. He hadn’t been thinking about that, flying high on the updraft of this budding relationship. 

Well. The interview process would take weeks, maybe even months, and when she got the job… well, they’d figure it out. They’d figure something out. 

She took his hand and let him pull her to her feet, but wasn’t prepared for the way he swung her around into his arms. She clutched his arms, gasping and giggling. His smile dazzled her as he pulled her close to keep her steady and swayed her a few steps in each direction, bemused when she tripped over herself to keep up.

“This is already embarrassing.”

“I don’t think it’s embarrassing,” he argued. “I like you hanging onto me.” 

“You’re the most graceful man in the world and I’m like a baby duckling.”

He smiled so broadly he worried it would make his face ghastly and pressed it into her shoulder to laugh, “A baby duckling in a Minnie Mouse shirt–”

“Don’t tease me about my pajamas!” she complained and Jimin was sure his heart was going to explode. The urge to kiss her more was overwhelming but he’d rather be overwhelmed than overwhelm her, so instead he just steadied her on her feet and continued to shuffle her around into a simple two step, even though this was not the kind of dancing he’d had in mind. It made the fabric of her dress swirl; he hadn’t realized that. He was going to have to be so respectful to avoid glimpsing panties if he spun her.

“Don’t we need music?” she asked.

“Can’t you hear it?” he asked, and pulled her closer so he could hum, then softly sing a slower version of a song he loved, “All this is no coincidence. / Just just by my feeling, the whole world is different from yesterday. / Just just with your joy / When you called me / I became your flower / As if we were waiting / We bloom until we ache.”

She caught him by surprise with her kiss and he smiled into it; it was like she’d read his mind.

“I didn’t know you sang so beautifully,” she murmured. Then, “I also can’t do that.”

“Sunnie warned me.”

Her spluttering laughter resulted in her head against his shoulder as they swayed. He laughed into the silky strands of her hair. It broke the moment in a way and forged a new one, less frighteningly soft but just as intimate. Joyful. Blooming.

“I’ll put music on,” he suggested as they stepped apart.

“Are there more ciders?”

“How many ciders do you need to dance with me like you did in the club?” he teased and tossed her the keys to open the cabinet.

“At least eight…”

“No, did you really drink that much!?”

“I don’t know, I’m just taking stock of my nerves…”

He adjusted the dance music coming through the speakers and then gestured her closer, though she slid another bottle of cider into his hand instead of her fingers. 

“How did you open these?” he asked, because the bottle opener was still on the ground by the mirror.

“I have some talents too.”

“I want to know your talents,” he grinned. “Show me with the next one.”

So she did, laughing at his amazement as she used one bottle to pop the cap off the other. 

“How strong are your fingers?!” he cried, grabbing her hand as if looking for a secretly embedded bottle opener.

“Strong, I guess… I type a lot?”

“You type a lot and it gave you– our hands are almost the same size. Mine are small but strong but–”

“It’s just a trick. I’ll show you.”

“Hanbyul. Were you a big party girl?!”

“I was not,” she admitted. “But I used to drink a lot of beer just with dinner…”

“Really?! Beer?”

“I don’t know, there’s this kind of beer, I really liked the taste of it!”

They split this third bottle between them, both the light side of tipsy and giggling and moving more freely around the studio by then. Jimin wasn’t looking to be drunk and she declined another, but he couldn’t deny the thrill of knowing she trusted him with herself like this.  He liked the way it freed her up to move, swaying this way and that around him. He’d do this with her, again and again over time, until she felt comfortable dancing uninhibited with him, even without cider. He didn’t mind. He wouldn’t have even pushed except for the way she seemed to so wholeheartedly enjoy herself, dancing along to the music, sliding through his arms, winding her arms above her head. She was definitely not as awkward or rhythmless as she made it sound, only lacking in confidence. Jimin looked forward to helping her build that confidence. He was thrilled at the prospect of something he could give her in exchange for all she gave him.

It was nearing midnight and their dancing had grown quite a bit more intimate, nudged there by the close music, the sugary aftermath of the cider, and Jimin’s hands sliding more pointedly around her hips. He’d squeezed and she’d turned into him, pressing her face against his. 

“I think you’re a beautiful dancer,” he murmured.

“You’re drunk.”

“Not on two and a half ciders,” he argued. 

“You must really like me then,” she giggled and he nodded, nose brushing hers, “I do really like you. What you said is true.”

“You aren’t going to be too hung over for your rehearsal tomorrow, are you?”

“I’m not thinking about tomorrow at all,” he admitted. “It doesn’t matter. It’s worth it dancing with you.”

“This is the best club I’ve been to.” She stopped herself from saying anything further that might be stupid or embarrassing. I can’t believe I caught the eye of the hottest guy here. Her head swam from all the spinning and dancing and she knew she was hitting the unflattering side of sweaty but Jimin’s moves around her made her feel graceful and beautiful. The whole thing made her feel young and stupid and free in the best way possible and she hoped it was just as fun an escape for him too, this kind of date with her. There was something really freeing about being able to let loose like this and know with absolute certainty she was safe.

“Next time we’ll go to a museum,” he said.

“Next time?”

“Next date. Will you go with me?”

“Yes, but I’ll plan it.”

He nodded, then let the brush of their noses turn into a kiss. His hands slid down her side and a spark in the back of his mind urged take it further; you’re alone here; you could have even more than this with her. He wanted it, he did, but the tipsy yearning was not enough to make him rush anything with her. They were different now than they’d been yesterday, but he wanted to savor every step of the way with her. Even the suggestion of sex with her made him shudder with nervous anticipation, but it wouldn’t be tonight. He wanted to be sober and present and certain he could be good for her in the moment, sorely out of practice as he was. 

“What are you thinking?” she asked, because he was being so quiet and looking at her with this gaze like he wanted to consume her. She might have been projecting though because she most definitely wanted to be consumed by him.

Not that he was about to tell her his thoughts, and only ran his hands down her sides again as he slid around behind her to catch his breath, then lifted her silky hair from her neck just to see if it would be ok for him to kiss her there–

Heavy footsteps on the stairs made them spring apart and then the studio door flew open and Hoseok leapt through with a crowbar. Hanbyul only gasped sharply as Jimin leapt in front of her.

Hoseok promptly dropped the crowbar and demanded, “What are you doing here?” then let out a peal of nervous laughter.

“Why do you have a fucking crowbar?!” Jimin cried. 

“I was walking by and saw the lights on and thought someone broke in!”

“And you were going to brain them yourself?” Jimin huffed. He marched forward and took the crowbar and shook it, scolding, “Call the police, if you’re worried, don’t put yourself in danger over the studio! It’s only a building. So what if someone broke in to dance.”

“Yeah well…” Hoseok didn’t seem to have anything to say to that, just went suddenly quiet, gaze sliding from Jimin’s flushed face to Hanbyul’s. “I see.”

“You see nothing,” Jimin joked, then waved his hand and corrected, “No, no, you see me on a date that was going very well before you interrupted.”

“Hi Hanbyul,” Hoseok called. She had her mouth covered with her hand and just gave a small embarrassed wave.

“Recreating the club with no competition this time,” Jimin explained further. “So… go.”

Hoseok laughed and nodded, “Yeah yeah, I see that, ok. Make sure he treats you with respect, Hanbyul! Goodnight you love birds!”

Jimin delivered a playful kick to Hoseok’s backside as he scurried from the studio, his own heart still racing from the shock of the interruption. He’d have to scold Hoseok again tomorrow too. How dare his close friend risk potential injury just to investigate potential burglars?! And what burglars turned on music as they worked anyway?

“Sorry,” Jimin said, drawing close again, but now the music seemed too loud and Hanbyul had stopped dancing and seemed uninclined to start again.

“It’s ok. We probably should get home anyway, it’s late and I promised Sun-young I wouldn’t keep you out too late,” Hanbyul admitted.

“What?! She said that?” he cried, voice overly loud as he turned the music off so suddenly his ears rang.

Hanbyul shirked her shoulders and assured him, “It was cute. She’s such a sweet girl, Jimin. She told me to have fun on our date and not keep you up too late or you’ll be cranky tomorrow for your rehearsal.”

“Ah…”

“It kind of felt like she wanted me to know she’s ok with us going on a date,” Hanbyul admitted. “I didn’t know she knew but I guess you told her.”

“She’s very happy about it,” he told her. “She threatened me with a powerpoint if I didn’t ask you. Oh, uh… I hope it’s ok that she knows,” he realized. “I just couldn’t really hide it because she was so–”

“It’s completely your call, you know what’s best and I’ll just follow your lead. But you’re welcome about the powerpoints! That skill will be useful in school as she gets older,” Hanbyul insisted at his teasing.

“Yeah and god knows I don’t know how to make a powerpoint. It’s a miracle I ever get funding for this place.” He picked up their bottles and Hanbyul hit the lights when he gestured.

“Well you’re so charming to the patrons,” she reminded. “When you run into them at clubs.”

“Ha!”

“Maybe next time I can help you with a pitch,” she added. “So you don’t have to flirt in the club. Just an offer!” 

“With your business brain and my charm…”

She laughed at it too. He couldn’t tell if she’d sobered up or not been as affected by alcohol as he had thought. He didn’t actually know how well she held her cider, but she seemed peaceful and content as they rinsed the bottles out in the kitchenette off the office, and set them in recycling. He let her pull the gate down because she asked to, giggling when he grabbed it at the last second so it wouldn’t hit the ground too loudly.

“Oops.”

“Yeah, I’ve got a thing or two to teach you too,” he teased. 

Their hands found each other’s again on the walk home in mostly silence, companionable and quiet after the loud music in the studio. Even though there had been no crowds, Jimin felt tired, as if he’d truly come from the club. He supposed dinner, dessert, and dancing was a decently long first date. 

Hudu must have thought so too because he ruff ruff ruff grumbled when Hanbyul opened the door, kicking his back legs like he was threatening to pee right there in the hallway. Jimin insisted on walking out with them since it was so late, uttering his sincerest apologies to Hudu along the way. Their neighborhood was good and he wasn’t actually worried about Hanbyul meeting with trouble, but he wanted the satisfaction of kissing her goodnight at her door, knowing she was safely inside for the night.

When her lips lingered on his, he brushed her hair behind her ear and took a good long look at her face.

“You’re very charming, Jimin,” she murmured.

“I tried really hard to charm you,” he admitted with a broad grin. “I’m glad it worked. I’m rusty.”

“I don’t think that’s true. I think it’s natural. I bet you’ve been charming everyone since you were a child.”

“Hold onto that as you get to know me more,” he pleaded without any real fear behind it. She’d already seen him at his lowest, at his worst, and all before he’d even asked her out, yet she’d agreed to the date. 

“If you’re cranky tomorrow tell Sun-young it wasn’t my fault,” Hanbyul returned and for the hundredth time Jimin wondered if it was really ok to feel this happy, this fond, this close to someone so quickly. It was only their first date and shit, he was already in deep. 

He drew a deep breath once her door was closed, trying to find his head again. He couldn’t. He headed for his own apartment, braced for whatever ribbing his friends lobbed at him, because he was too high in the clouds to be bothered by it.   

Jimin was actually the one who had thought of the perfect demonstration for Sun-young; his daughter’s thrill that he was taking this serious and being involved would have been impossible to miss. 

“Tsuyoshi is cleaning coins,” Sun-young informed Hanbyul as they sat at the kitchen table surrounded by posterboard, construction paper, marker, punch out letters, and eggs. “Siwoo is drawing faces on balloons so people can give them salt and pepper beards. Sora is doing balloon rockets.”

“It’s a diverse list of demonstrations,” Hanbyul managed to get in through Sun-young’s excited nonstop chatter. She’d recited the whole list of demonstrations from memory before finishing with,

“And I’m sucking an egg into a bottle! It was Appa’s idea.”

“I’m full of great ideas,” Jimin agreed, though his attention was mostly on his laptop as he stood at the kitchen counter, ordering the supplies they needed for the rice cakes. 

“I just need to practice with the matches,” Sun-young said, picking up the box.

Hanbyul’s eyebrows raised as she asked gently, “Will you be doing that part or an adult?”

“I know how to light a match! I did it once.”

“When did you do it once?” Jimin immediately demanded, attention suddenly grabbed.

“One time.”

“With which uncle?”

“How did you know I was with an uncle?” Sun-young asked, then giggled and said, “I’m not a snitch.”

“Where did you learn ‘snitch’?! What is happening here?”

It was clear Sun-young got a kick out of trolling her father, and Hanbyul smiled to see the way they poked and teased and giggled with each other. It was a much happier relationship than Jimin had feared the shift away from dance might leave them with. Likewise, Hanbyul was just as relieved to find herself in the Park apartment today with nothing changed just because she’d gone a day with Jimin two days ago. Only two days! In a way everything had changed but in the way she had feared, nothing had. She’d made dinner to bring over like she had before, and Sun-young had begged to listen through Mango Crush’s new album while they started homework, and now the album was finished and they were only just getting to the science demonstration part, though they had another week and a half to finish the poster board with science notes and mater the experiment.

The difference was that Jimin’s hand brushed her back when he passed her in the kitchen, and she had a hard time not looking bashfully away any time he caught her eye, and didn’t his lips look extra kissable tonight?

But everything with Sun-young was normal, even though she knew they’d been on a date. She hadn’t said anything about it and the last thing Hanbyul would do was push. She was just glad to be here and things could go at whatever pace the Parks thought was right.

“Ok, Appa, you can light the paper and show us how to do it.”

“You’re the scientist here, not me,” he teased. 

“I know but you’re my assistant so you can do the dangerous part. I’ll allow it.”

“Ah, thank you, I appreciate it, the honor is all mine.” He bowed, then closed the laptop and pulled a chair over. 

Hanbyul playfully turned her undivided attention to him, propping her chin in her hand and giving him an expectant look like she was front row at a show.

“Let’s see the magic,” she demanded.

“It’s not magic, unnie, it’s science. Oooh that’s a good line,” Sun-young gasped. “I’m going to say that right after. Let me write that down.” She had a lined notebook with “DEMONSTRATION SCRIPT” written on the top line and used a fat marker to write down her own words, mumbling, “I’ll put it in order later.” The seriousness with which she approached this was beyond adorable.

Hanbyul vaguely remembered this science experiment from her school days but not enough to remember the way it worked. She’d just dutifully boiled and peeled the eggs like Jimin asked –well, she had offered after he had complained about how hard it was to get the shells off and shown her his butchered attempt. He’d looked so amazed when she’d shown him the trick with vinegar and cold water while Sun-young marched around the house pinching her nose. His hand had pressed against her lower back for just a moment before he’d pulled it away before Sun-young could see.

“Ok walk us through it,” Sun-young told Jimin. “I’ll take notes.” She looked quite the little scientist with her marker posed over the notebook.

“What you see here are three hard-boiled eggs with their shells removed. They’re real eggs. See? Here, touch the eggs,” Jimin said, holding the bowl around. Sun-young gave him a skeptical look, to which he explained, “You don’t want the audience accusing you of tricking them with fake eggs.”

“What kind of fake eggs look like that?”

“I don’t know, but people will doubt what they can’t believe. A true magician knows to get the audience bought in.”

“It’s science, not magic,” Sun-young repeated.

“Touch the eggs, Sunnie.”

She gave the eggs a good slap and giggled when they jiggled. Even though Hanbyul had peeled them herself, she dutifully touched the eggs and nodded.

“Oh yes, I see, very real.”

“Don’t encourage him,” Sun-young sighed and Hanbyul bit back her laugh.

“You have to work the audience for a demonstration just like you do for a dance recital,” Jimin admonished. “Now see here how the eggs do not fit into the glass bottle.” He took one and set it on the rim of a bottle. Sure enough, the egg just rested there, clearly too big to fit through the mouth.

Hanbyul scratched her neck and looked away, bemused by her own internal inappropriate narration. Oof. 

To say her thoughts about Jimin had been a little on the flushed side since the way he’d run his hands up and down her body, the way his lips had dragged against hers, the way their bodies had spun and swayed in what felt more graceful and intimate than it probably looked –well, it had been a sweaty weekend, temperatures unusually high outside for this time of year, so she couldn’t be blamed. It was either Jimin’s fault or mother nature’s.

“These are simple strips of paper. Nothing exciting. But what if I told you I can use a strip of paper to get the egg into the bottle? How do you think I’ll do that?”

“I already know,” Sun-young sighed when Jimin waited for suggestions.

“It’s called audience involvement,” he told her.

Sun-young turned to Hanbyul and asked, “Is that what you do?”

“Hm… it depends on the audience and what I’m trying to accomplish. But yes, getting audience input can be a good way to make sure they’re invested. You have to be prepared to move it forward in case no one suggests anything though, a lot of time audiences are shy.”

“Excellent point,” JImin barged ahead. “I won’t leave you in confusion any longer. Watch as I take this paper and light it on fire!” The way he emphasized fire made Sun-young erupt into giggles. “Er, assistant Hanbyul, can you hold the paper? Maybe we should get a lighter instead of matches…”

Hanbyul held the paper by the end as he struck a match and held it to set the end aflame, then quickly took it from her hands and dropped it into the bottle where it began to curl and smoke. He plopped one of the eggs on top and all three leaned in to wait and watch. 

“I think we’re supposed to be saying what’s happening,” Sun-young reminded.

“Oh right. Yeah, rewind, we should say… this is an experiment about air pressure,” Jimin said. “There’s air pressure pushing down on this egg on the bottle, but there’s also air within the bottle.”

Suddenly the egg slurped through the bottle with a ‘pop’.

All three erupted in cheers and applause as if they hadn’t known exactly what was going to happen. There really was something magical and cool about it, the egg now hidden from view in the smoky haze circling inside the bottle.

“I think you can just explain what we saw now,” Hanbyul suggested. “And then maybe do it a second time so people who are interested know what they’re watching. That way you get the surprise and the explanation.”

Sun-young nodded and tapped her marker, “I like it, I like it. So explain what we saw, Appa. I don’t understand this one yet but I need to know everything so I can take questions.”

“Ok, there is air within the bottle and what we want to do is create a vacuum within the bottle that will pull down on the egg while the air pressure above is pushing down on the egg because that pull creates uniform pressure on the egg –well, back up, we should say first that if you try to smush the egg into the bottle, it will just smush the egg, because you’ll be applying uneven pressure on the egg wherever your fingers press and the air within the bottle is resisting, pushing up on the egg,” Jimin said.

“Maybe we should have a second bottle where I do that first,” Sun-young suggested. “I can just smush the egg so they see it for themselves.” 

“Good idea. So here, a vacuum of decreased air pressure inside the bottle will pull on the whole egg, tugging it down in one piece.”

“How is the fire making a vacuum though?” Hanbyul asked.

“If I remember correctly, the air expands and pushes up around the egg, that’s why we saw it wobbling and the egg acts like a stopper so more air molecules can slide in. It means there are fewer air molecules now inside the bottle than above. And the fire does burn some of the oxygen molecules up.”

“We have to be sure,” Sun-young said, very seriously. “We should research.”

“I want to watch it closely again and see the wobbles,” Hanbyul added.

Sun-young made a face and asked with concern, “How do we get the egg out now though?” She lifted the bottle and tilted it to the side, blowing as the smoke cleared and the scorched paper tumbled out but the whole egg rolled around inside.

“Oh you’re going to like this part, but an adult has to do it,” Jimin said, taking the bottle from her. “We do the same thing, we need the air pressure in the bottle to be stronger than outside. So watch this.” He lifted the bottle to his lips and Sun-young and Hanbyul both stared transfixed as he blew a lungful of air into the bottle, which rocketed the egg into his mouth. He spit it out as they howled with laughter.

“If you just do a little air, it’ll ooze out but it’s funnier to pop it out fast,” he explained.

“Unless you choke yourself in front of everyone,” Hanbyul laughed. 

“That will still be funny,” Sun-young admitted. “We can talk about science safety if that happens and how it’s not smart to use air pressure to shoot an egg into your mouth.”

“Thank you, I love to be made an example of,” Jimin chuckled. Then he held his hands out and asked, “Well, what do you think, will that work? Sun-young you can present and I’ll be your assistant who does the dangerous parts while you explain what’s happening.”

Sun-young looked to Hanbyul, who agreed, “It’s pretty cool. I bet everyone will remember it.”

“Yeah, I like it.” Sun-young gave them a determined nod. “Ok let’s write a script and we have to explain the whole thing on the poster board and I need another bottle and I think we’ll need more eggs too. Appa, you can check with Miss Choi to make sure we’re allowed to use fire but I think it’s ok as long as you’re doing it, because sometimes she uses fire for things too.”

“We have our marching orders,” Jimin laughed and began to explain the science again, slowly, so Sun-young could write it down. His foot nudged Hanbyul’s beneath the table and she glanced at him, cheeks warmed by his look. Just as he began his explanation though, his phone rang.

“Who is it?” Sun-young asked, straining to see the phone.

“Not for you! It’s Halmeoni,” he added before rising from the table to answer, “Eomma! How are you?” 

Hanbyul tried not to listen and just focus on recalling Jimin’s words for Hanbyul. She’d met Jimin’s mother before, a very nice woman who clearly adored her son and granddaughter. She loved how familiar Jimin sounded talking to his parents, who he clearly had a good relationship with. Mostly his side of the conversation was too simple to eavesdrop on anyway, but he didn’t leave them wondering for long.

As soon as the call ended he explained, “Well, Halmeoni and Harabeoji want to come next weekend to help us make the rice cakes and then stay all the way through your demonstration and our recital.”

“YAY!” Sun-young cheered, leaping onto her knees in her seat. This didn’t seem surprising to Hanbyul at all, that they would want to come for their son’s and granddaughter’s dance performance. 

“And um, your other grandparents want to go to both as well,” he said, which had Sun-young just nodding as she continued to write. Hanbyul noted the glance he sent her direction but wasn’t sure what it meant –unless, she realized, it meant he thought it was actually not a great idea for her to attend a family event just yet.

Which made total sense! This romance between them was new, and it made perfect sense that Jimin might not be in a rush to introduce her not only to his own parents, but for Ga Subin’s parents to see him starting something new with another woman. It was most important for Sun-young to have her supportive grandparents there; that was more important than anything.

Though the subject dropped then, Hanbyul was quick to bring it up again much later in the evening, after they’d taken a family walk to let Hudu toilet and then watched an episode of a cartoon to let Sun-young decompress from homework, and then Jimin hugged and kissed her on the other side of teeth brushing and a shower. 

“I think she’s already asleep. Science really wears her out,” Jimin announced as he returned to the dining table where Hanbyul had just finished tidying the leftover homework supplies.

“I added a sticky note to the eggs in the fridge that says ‘Do Not Eat’ so you don’t forget,” she told him.

“Thanks but you didn’t have to do all this cleaning up.”

“And leave it for you after you put her to bed? It’s not a big deal,” Hanbyul assured him.

“Well thank you–”

“Just like it’s not a big deal if you’d rather I sit out the recital and science day,” she quickly added just as his hand touched her arm. “I completely understand, with your parents and Ga Subin’s parents joining.”

“Ah…”

“Of course I would love to support you both but I really do understand.”

“It’s very early,” he mused.

“Exactly, we’ve only been on one date.”

“I had hoped our second date could be this weekend but it won’t be possible to hide that from my parents.”

Hanbyul nodded and insisted, “I completely understand. There’s no rush, I can plan our second date for after your parents have gone home.”

“No, I mean…” His face screwed up adorably, and then his expression shifted and he asked, “Do you think it’s too early? It’s too early, right?”

“I…”

“I mean, it’s only been one date. It’s too early,” he decided, looking to the side.

“If you have any doubts about it, there’s truly no reason to rush the introduction,” Hanbyul insisted.

“I don’t have doubts about it,” he admitted. “But is that crazy? I mean, my parents have met you before. They thought you were lovely. They’d be happy to spend time with Sunnie while you and I have a date, it would just mean telling them that I’m dating you and I just wonder if it’s too soon for you to want to– if it would make you feel overwhelmed that we’ve gone on one date and I’m already telling my parents about our… relationship.”

“Won’t Sun-young say something anyway?” Hanbyul suddenly realized.

Jimin slapped a hand to his forehead and laughed, “Yes, probably. I didn’t think about that…”

“I’m not afraid of you telling your parents,” Hanbyul assured him, though there was certainly a thread of fear laced through the fluttering in her chest. What if they liked me as your neighbor but not your girlfriend? He hadn’t said she was his girlfriend, and the word was suddenly too bright to look at. She felt important in his life and close to him and she didn’t need a label–

“It’s ok if I tell them you’re my girlfriend?” he asked, head dropped so that he looked up at her through his eyelashes, as if he needed to seduce her to convince her!

“Am I your girlfriend?” she stammered out, startled by his directness. 

“Ah, am I rushing you?” he cried and looked so frightened by it that Hanbyul rushed forward to grab his hands.

“Our timeline is all crazy,” she told him. “I don’t feel rushed, but I do feel a little crazy.”

“Me too and I just don’t want you to feel like I’m rushing you into something that you aren’t ready for –there’s no pressure here, Hanbyul. I can even tell my parents to mind their own business if you’d rather I don’t use the 여 word yet… Yeah, let’s just– I’m sorry, I shouldn’t be springing this on you so fast,” he apologized, even bowed a little to her.

“Jimin, stop. I came into this knowing we’d be a little out of order. I came into this with eyes open. I just don’t want you to feel like you have to rush into anything to keep my attention –I mean, I’ve been pining for years at this point, I can be patient.” She meant it as a joke but it wasn’t a joke and immediately she realized she had said too much. 

He laughed and pressed his hands to her face and kissed her forehead, murmuring, “Ah, Hanbyul, you’re the funniest woman I’ve ever met.”

“No one ever thinks I’m funny!”

“Have you really been pining for me? Tell me more.”

“Absolutely not.”

He slid his arms around her, pulling her tight against his chest, and sighed, “What a lucky man I am.”

She hated to potentially dump water on the moment but still felt a niggling concern and pressed, “Well even if you’re comfortable telling your parents that you’re seeing someone and even introducing me as that someone, what about Sun-young’s other grandparents? I wouldn’t want to make them uncomfortable either.”

To her relief, Jimin did not let go. Just rested his cheek against her hair and considered this.

“I think it will be harder for them, because just like Sun-young growing up, it’s proof life is moving forward without Subin,” he admitted. “If you do want to go –and I do want you there, to be clear– I’ll talk to them before so that they aren’t surprised, and even if it’s hard on their hearts, I think they will quickly see how good you are to Sunnie, and how much she adores you.”

“I don’t want to make things harder on grieving parents.”

“If you’re uncomfortable with them, I don’t want to push you. Maybe just… think about it. And I’ll talk to them so they know and then at least everyone is aware.”

“All right, that sounds right. There’s time to think about it.”

“A whole week and a half,” he joked.

“How long is that on our timeline?”

“Months,” he snickered, and dropped his mouth to hers. Hanbyul wondered for how long each kiss would feel like the first time and thought it might always feel that way, her heart might always flip like that when his fingers brushed her jaw, angling her face. 

Jimin suddenly sprang back and Hanbyul didn’t understand why until she spied Sun-young standing on the other side of the table. She hadn’t even heard the girl approach but Jimin had and now scratched his cheek and did his best to look like they hadn’t very obviously just been kissing.

“I just want some water,” Sun-young said. 

“Oh, um… ok, sure, let me… get that for you…”

“I can get it myself,” she said, and then kept her gaze on them as she shuffled past to the kitchen, her lips pursed into a tight-lipped smile. They remained frozen as she clanked around the kitchen, pulling a cup from a cupboard, ice from the freezer, filling it with water. Hanbyul thought she might be intentionally taking a long time, furthered by the playful way she suddenly poked her head out of the kitchen before stepping out.

“Ok,” Sun-young said, shuffling slowly past. “Goodnight, Appa. Goodnight, unnie.”

“Good night, Sun-young.”

She glanced over her shoulder one more time, mouth pursed again like she was just checking to see what they were doing. They listened to her shuffling steps down the hall and then heard her door close.

“What a brat,” Jimin laughed, the breath rushing from his lungs.  

“I’m sorry, I didn’t even hear her–”

“Yes because she didn’t want us to hear her,” Jimin assured her. “She’s going to be teasing me about this for days, I know it.”

“Well… I do think she takes after you in a lot of ways,” Hanbyul told him, which only made him laugh harder, and then box her into another hug.

“Maybe so.”

“Hudu and I had better go.”

“Ah, where is he?”

Hudu had been quiet and unobtrusive the whole evening, alternating between lounging on the rug with his toys or sleeping on Sun-young’s feet. Calling him now did nothing, but a quick search eventually revealed him curled up on a pile of clothing in Sun-young’s room, sound asleep. He just stared at Hanbyul when she tried to coax him out, until Jimin snuck in –Sun-young was already snoring– and carried him out.

“What a relief our kids get along,” he grinned and handed Hudu over. 

“The two of them might have planned this all from the beginning,” Hanbyul suggested, which Jimin could only nod to. He walked her to the door, a hand familiarly on her lower back, and kissed her there one more time –quicker this time, since Hudu immediately tried to join in, licking the underside of their chins and setting them both to laughing loud enough to wake up a neighbor.

Then he watched her until she was safely in her apartment, heart hammering in her chest, Hudu marching off, clearly peeved to have been disturbed from his comfortable nap. 

She’d expected the timeline to be weird, but had Jimin really asked her to be his girlfriend two days after their first date? She thought she’d agreed but wasn’t sure if she’d made it clear that her answer was unequivocally yes. Had he understood that, or was that part of what he wanted her to think about?

Part of her had thought that going on a date with Jimin would finally let her settle, that after she finally got to kiss him her pining would relax and things could be simple and comfortable. Being at their apartment for dinner had almost convinced her of it. But Hanbyul had never felt so spun up in her life, never more excited about seeing what the next day might bring. Her sister was going to flip, and at the rate things were moving with Jimin, she’d better call her soon!

Previous Chapter | Masterlist | Next Chapter

[jim-kirks-bubble-butt]

ok ok ok it’s time for my amok time thoughts-

first of all: s p i r k

spock what do you mean your omega heat was resolved by you rolling around in the dirt with your captain??? 🤨

but also just the way kirk was so respectful and understanding about spock’s pon farr and dodn’t make fun of him for it.

can’t believe the 1960’s scifi show had a fuck or die episode which did not result in heterosexuality. truly ahead of it’s time.

and also the way jim and spock were rolling around in the dirt was so gay. no one can convince me otherwise. the way spock slashed his axe thingy (forgot what it’s called) exactly so that it would give jim a tit window??? i know what you are spock.

and of course the biggest moment: JIM :D. seriously what the fuck was that. only time he smiles the wide the whole series (times when he’s under the influence of drugs excluded). homosexuality at it’s finest.

speaking of drugs i find it very funny that the only time spock likes women if either when he’s under the influence or when he’s being mind controlled.

the way spock grabs him and just gives him the biggest stupidest grin. i love spock and spock loves kirk. they are in love you can also see how wide kirk was smiling from the way his cheeks move.

spirk was just so soft with each other this episode, even on vulcan. the way spock was so hesitant to fight him and tried his hardest to convince t’pau even when under the pon farr influence.

the way jim clearly tried not to hurt him through the whole fight,

they make me fucking insane.

anyways

second thing i liked: BONES

i love bones mccoy

spock saying that he’s also one of his closest friends 😭 😭 😭

but he was so smart with the neural paralyzer and i love the way he clearly cares so much anout both of his dumbass friends under his grumpy doctor exterior.

third of all: women

t’pau and t’pring were so powerful and so wonderfully played.

obviously the whole thing with calling t’pring the property of whatever man wins her is very icky but as progressive as star trek was (and still is!), it is a product of it’s time unfortunately.

but besides that, they both just radiated power, and it was so nice to see a woman in a seat of major power.

on another note, stonn has a strikingly small forehead t’pribg i promise i could treat you better.

in my mind uhura wants t’pring (“she’s very lovely mister spock!” i know what you are ma’am.)

fourth: the episode was just. really good.

all of the tension build up before we find out about that spock is basically an omega is masterfully done, and even though i kinda new the plot, i was still sitting on the edge of my seat. incredible.

i also think tbe fight choreography during the gay sex fighting scene was actually really well done, especially when compared to other fight scenes in season 1 (the gorn fight comes to mind).

also the set design for vulcan felt like an actual planet. like usually when they go off the enterprise and onto a planet that’s not basically earth, you can tell that it’s just a bunch of foam blocks, but vulcan was very well made!

the conversation between spirk and kock kirk and spock about “vulcan biology” was very well written and acted in a way that was slightly awkward because of the nature of pon farr, but still felt natural and very in character.

side note: i see online that there’s a lot of people who think that shatner overacts. and i just don’t see it. idk i think he’s really good at playing kirk. i don’t really like the guy, but i like how expressive his acting is.

anyways this was very jumbled but i had a lot of thoughts and yeah.

i too would write the first slash fic in the 60’s if i saw this shit on my tv.

also does anyone know what tag i should use for kirk? i use like 4 different ones each time but is there one that’s more common? same for mccoy.

[quasi-normalcy]

So the thing about Star Trek: Picard is...

Say what you will about the first season, but it’s meaningful. In fact, Rios says explicitly what it’s about in the fourth episode: “the existential pain of living with the consciousness of death and how it defines us as human beings.” Pretty much all of the character arcs are about different reactions to this, and the supposed “grimdarkness” of the setting reinforces this point; the Federation has become reactionary and xenophobic because it was a utopia that experienced mass death right on its doorstep for the first time in living memory. The conflict with the Synths is ultimately rooted in the fact that we die; they don’t. The fact that the finale was called “Et in Arcadia ego” really just telegraphs this; “Even in Arcadia [utopia], I [Death] am.”

And the second season, for all its many flaws, carries this theme forward, proposing that love, togetherness, and companionship are the only meaningful candles in the dark. Q is dying; he awaits meaning, and he doesn’t find it. And so he opts instead to do one last favour for Jean-Luc so at least he can spare his favourite mortal from his own fate of dying alone. Jurati is able to connect with the Borg Queen because she recognises that her own motivation is something similar: the Queen can feel herself dying across infinite realities and she doesn’t want to be alone. Seven and Raffi find each other; Rios gives up his entire life for a shot at love. It’s an infernal mess, a budget-saving exercise in want of a plot, but I’m going to be honest: I kind of adore it. I think it’s beautiful for all its flaws.

Throughout the first two seasons, we have serious contemplations of transhumanism and identity in the face of death. Picard escapes death using technology, even as his friend, a living machine, embraces his end as a necessary part of being human. Soji loses her identity even as she gains knowledge of herself as an immortal android. Jurati too embraces transhumanism and, to some extent, loses her identity by so doing, but–in an interesting twist for Star Trek–this is not stigmatized; this is framed as what’s best for her. All of this is philosophically rich, high-octane fuel for thought, as speculative fiction should be.

The third season, meanwhile–for all that I have loved (some of) the nostalgia hits injected directly into my veins–bugs me because of how absolutely lightweight it feels. Death is gone. Not just as a theme, but gone from the narrative. Sure we kill off Ro, and T’Veen, and Vadic, and Shelby, and Shaw, but it feels like nothing. Death holds no dominion; Data is back; so’s the Enterprise-D; so’s Q (or maybe he’s come in from an earlier point in his timeline; it’s not clear). Kirk apparently is alive again, resurrected offscreen sometime after Generations and kept in a covert warehouse awaiting new adventures. Apparently Terry Matalas has already formulated plans for bringing Todd Stashwick back if when he gets his “Legacy” spinoff. I’m half-surprised that they didn’t reveal that Romulus magically popped back into existence in a background Okudagram somewhere. The Federation is as “grimdark” as it has ever been depicted, but unlike the first season (or Deep Space Nine, or even the first season of Discovery), this is never seriously interrogated or problematised. We go through the motions, cargo-cult-like, of moral debate in episode 7, but it’s not connected to anything. We hear that Vadic was the product of Section 31 war crimes; Picard looks shaken up by this, but then he and Beverly immediately decide to commit some war crimes of their own by executing her. This is never mentioned again. The whole exercise feels perfunctory, as I have said above: like ten-year-olds playing with action figures. It doesn’t feel like Picard, and frankly, for all of the surface detail it gets right, it feels even less like TNG.

So no; I’m not pleased that the first two seasons were ignored.

[smittywing]

FicBit 11: Jason Todd/Tim Drake

So, I will post this to AO3 later today once I take another run through the formatting and such but I wanted you guys to have this first. Thank you for all the love and support while I was hiccuping this out in pieces! And as always, thanks to @reccea for enabling and betaing and everything.

Previous parts: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10

~

Jason knew Tim and Bernard had broken up four days and six hours before Tim told him. 

Jason was starting to learn that Tim did things on his own time, no matter what kind of crazy it made Jason. 

The important thing was that Tim told him. 

“Bernard and I aren't together anymore,” Tim said carefully. “And I thought.  Maybe.  I could take you out to dinner. On a date.”

“I only put out for lobster,” Jason warned. 

“So I don't know if you've heard,” Tim said. “But I have this really good job at Wayne Enterprises….”

-

“I thought Cannon Fodder made you happy,” Jason said over lobster rolls from a shack in the marina. Jason wasn’t any kind of lobster connoisseur but he was pretty sure this was the best he'd ever had.

Tim was in the process of stuffing the end of his roll in his mouth and had to chew and swallow before he could answer. He scowled when Jason laughed at him. 

“I was happy,” he admitted. “Bernard will always be important to me. He helped me learn a lot about who I am and what I want. I might have just stuck to dating girls because… I hadn't been ready to come out. 

“But the feelings I have for you aren't…new,” Tim said slowly. Jason’s heart leapt in his chest. He kept his mouth shut. “I knew who you were but I didn't know you. And then you were - gone - and then, well, I didn't think there was much of a chance.” He shrugged and looked very interested in reassembling his sandwich. “I thought maybe that was my only chance to kiss you so I took it.”

“I might be open to giving you a second chance,” Jason said. “Maybe a third. If you make it good.”

“Shut up, you asshole,” Tim said, looking up, eyes bright and smile crooked. “You know it's going to be good.”

And Jason had no comeback because Tim’s face was lit up like sunshine and this time he had made it happen, had made Tim feel like that. 

“Anyway,” Tim said, because Jason was too busy grinning to answer. “I didn't want to be that guy but I couldn't handle the idea that we might never figure out what this is between us. So I talked to Bernard and we agreed I should uh, take some time and figure things out.”

“He let you go?” Jason asked, because that was fucking stupid of Cannon Fodder. 

“More like…he needed me to make a choice,” Tim said. “And I couldn’t do that while wondering ‘what if’ all the time.”

Jason rubbed the back of his neck because it sounded like Tim was saying he had picked Jason and he wasn’t entirely sure how to feel about that. Though he was leaning toward gloating.

“I just. I want you to be happy,” Jason said, biting the inside of his lip. “Even if that means seeing Cannon Fodder at Sunday brunch.”

“Yeah, well.” Tim poked at his sandwich and looked up at Jason, his cheeks flushed. “Turns out I just want you to be happy, too.”

~

After a stroll around the tiny marina to “walk off” their dinner, Tim invited Jason aboard his boat and led him below decks.

“Can I take that second chance now?” Tim asked and Jason’s breath caught in his throat. It was just a kiss, they'd done it before, and Jason had kissed half a dozen guys when he was stalking the clubs, but somehow he was still nervous. 

“I mean, you did pony up for the lobster,” he cracked.

Tim reached up and cupped Jason’s face between his hands and drew it down to him. “Hey,” he whispered and then he brought their mouths together. 

It was as good as before, if not better for the longing. Tim’s mouth was sharp and clever and Jason kissed him over and over, unable to pull back. They kissed until Jason’s mouth was dry and he leaned in, chasing Tim’s mouth until Tim’s thumb, pressed against his lower lip, held him back.

“How far did your research take you?” Tim asked and Jason was confused for a moment until he remembered how their conversation in the club had started. 

“Nothing that involved taking off clothes,” he admitted. “I kissed a few guys but none of them were you.”

Tim’s eyes went soft and he stepped back just far enough to pull his t-shirt over his head and toss it behind him. He looked amazing, his arms and chest rounded with muscle, but lithe, graceful. He was pale but had a healthy flush down to his abs. 

“Should I?” Jason asked. 

Tim nodded. “Yeah, if you're comfortable. I think you’ll like this.”

Jason didn't wait to ask what this was, he just dragged his shirt over his head and let Tim look at all the scars that littered his body. They itched under Tim’s intense study and he rubbed self-consciously at his breastbone.

“C’mere,” Tim directed, putting his hands on Jason’s bare waist and pressing back up to his mouth. The heated skin of his chest and stomach slid against Jason’s and Jason gasped with the sensation of naked skin on skin. Tim settled in closer, his palms pushing up Jason's exposed back to his shoulder blades, his arms wrapping around Jason’s ribs and squeezing gently.

“Fuck,” Jason breathed, sensitized and prickling with it, unready for the intensity rising in him. One hand was still pressed against his own chest, the knuckles brushing Tim’s clavicle. He fisted his other hand at his side, unsure what to do with it. 

Tim smiled against his mouth and pulled back, bumping his chin against Jason’s. “It feels good, right?” he whispered. “It's not the same with a girl.”

It wasn't the same with anyone and it wasn't just good. It was intimate in a way that was a revelation to Jason and he brought his mouth down to Tim’s again, hungry and needy in a way Jason hadn’t been with the strangers in the clubs. 

Jason’s skin buzzed everywhere Tim’s fingers had pressed into it. His knuckles prickled where they pushed into Tim’s chest. Jason twisted his wrist so the pads of his fingers grazed Tim’s collarbone and the flesh of his palm curved over warm skin and hard muscle. He paused, mid-kiss, and Tim murmured against his mouth.

“Yeah, like that. Touch me some more?” And Jason had to oblige. 

He spread his fingers, spanning the greater part of Tim’s shoulder and pectoral, his nipple a hard nub against Jason’s palm.  He dragged his hand down until he could circle his thumb over and around it. “Is this weird?” he asked because he'd only ever done it with a girl. 

“Does it feel weird?” Tim asked, tilting his head up. Jason considered. “Because it feels great to me.”

Jason kissed his naughty grin and pinched him lightly. Tim shivered and pressed himself against Jason’s leg and all Jason could think was, I did that.

~

Much later (surely much later than Jason’s internal clock told him) Tim collapsed on the bed next to Jason, his hair falling over his eyes. Jason turned his head, pressing his cheek to the blanket and gazing (sappily, but he wasn't going to be the one to say it) at Tim. Tim’s eyes were closed and he huffed a breath upward, blowing his hair a half inch off his face before it fell back over his eyes. 

“Does this mean we're going steady?” he asked, lifting his hand to brush Tim’s hair sideways across his forehead. 

Tim smiled with that dirty, dirty mouth of his. “If I say yes, do I get to wear your jacket?”

“You can wear whatever of mine you want,” Jason pledged, dropping his hand to thumb Tim’s lower lip. Tim bit him then sucked Jason’s thumb into his mouth. Jason was in the midst of calculating his recovery time when Tim released his thumb with an audible pop. 

“So, um,” Tim said. “Now that you've, you know.  What do you think?”

“You mean do I still think I’m straight?”

Tim smiled gently. “I think we left that idea a while back.”

Jason turned his gaze back to the ceiling. “Yeah,” he said. “Well.” He considered. “Can I just like who I like? Whatever they are?”

“Yeah,” Tim said. “As long as you still like me best.”

“Yeah,” Jason said. “That won't be a problem.”

~ 

One year later…

“Is that blood on your shirt?” Tim asked as Jason settled self-consciously into the place of honor at his Wayne Manor birthday party. This year, he had taken Alfred to high tea at a hotel in New York City for their shared birthday, and Tim had taken him out to dinner - a real, stupidly fancy dinner, with real lobster and only the briefest of supervillain interruptions. 

(But then Bruce said, “Will you come by on Saturday? I promise we’ll keep it small,” and Jason's heart must have grown three sizes that year, because he said,

“Yeah, okay, but don't let the demon brat get me an ant farm.”)

“It's fashion” Jason told Tim archly. “Not that you would know.”

“Not that I would know,” Tim repeated, “from someone whose entire wardrobe consists of cargo pants and black t-shirts.”

Bruce had promised to keep it small and for definitions involving the family, he had more or less kept his word. Dick and Barbara were there, and Tim and Damian, who had been given strict instructions about gifting living beings, but the only other person there was Stephanie. Her gift turned out to be a repeat of last year’s shovel talk.

Tim set a box on Jason’s lap. It weighed a shit ton and wasn't wrapped any better than Jason’s gift to Tim had been. 

“I love it,” Jason said, frowning at the mass of brown fabric inside. “What is it?”

“It's a hammock,” Tim said brightly. “For the boat!”

Jason laughed. “You got me something for your boat?” he laughed. 

“Well, Tim said,  flushing a little across his cheekbones. “I was hoping it might be our boat.”

And Jason had nothing left to say.

[addawithbalmiki]

me wasting my time at my office produced this

(...)

sasuke was never the golden child.

ten year old sasuke would have thrown pens at itachi at that realization. eighteen year old sasuke would have run away and gotten another tattoo in a haze of drunkenness.

twenty-eight year old sasuke makes a face at his cup of cold tea and continues checking his papers. dressed in a proper button-up with no tattoos peeking out, itachi is struck each time by the reality that his little brother is no longer the screaming child, annoyed by the lack of attention.

now, he has graduated to not giving itachi attention.

"otou-san was grim throughout the entire meeting, but my understanding is that he was positively bored. i expected more outrage." itachi sips his third cup of tea. "okaa-san, on the other hand... "

sasuke scowls. he circles one line with his red pen. itachi tries not to take offense at his little brother's distraction.

"i'm beginning to think you're bored of my visit."

"i am." sasuke doesn't even look up as he writes Check the book for once beside his angry red circle. "you are wasting my time here."

"i suppose you'd want to spend more time correcting people's poor attempts at getting dates right." itachi peers at the horrible handwriting. "i don't recall the heian period starting from my childhood."

sasuke pulls back the answer sheet. "kitsune is an idiot." itachi doesn't correct the obviously wrong name. "but he did better this time. and otou-san is indifferent because your decisions in life are always questionable. kisame is atrocious, but it's better than running away from home and joining a gang."

"a society." itachi takes the bait like every single time. it's a comforting pattern. "not unlike your sojourn with your wild friends."

sasuke keeps the marked paper beside him. his scowl becomes more prominent. be it ten, eighteen, twenty-eight - sasuke will never not look like the world has personally wronged him for the decisions he made.

brat, itachi thinks fondly. his appreciation for his brother's rebelling streak never manages to dwindle. itachi might have been the one who left everything and became a lawyer, but he still stayed. he still chose to align himself with the uchiha enterprises. sasuke left and between years of doing odd jobs and trudging through his history degree, he never looked back. as ambitious as sasuke is, he settled to become a high school history teacher with a laughably small salary.

itachi doesn't envy, but it's hard not to. dating kisame might be the most rebelling he has ever done. unlike sasuke, he's not half as brave. or reckless, as he likes to say.

"kisame's face reconstruction surgery is horrible. " sasuke says, blunt in the way he always is. "who the fuck wants to be a shark? "

"you don't understand an artist's soul."

"i don't need to. your choice is horrible." and then: "i'm giving kisame a mask that'll last him 10 years."

translation: i support your choice even though you can do better.

sasuke's kindness is sudden and tinged with so much roughness, it's hard to spot. softness doesn't become him despite his younger years. what would it take for the scowl to go away?

itachi smiles. "i'll give him your warm regards. he'll be happy to know you keep him in your thoughts. "

sasuke opens his mouth - undoubtedly to tear into itachi for his attempt at civility - when there's a knock.

"oh! i didn't know you had a guest. i'll come back later. " a feminine voice interrupts.

sasuke drops his papers on the table. he doesn't smile, but he doesn't need to. he does the closest approximation to beaming - his scowl disappears and his eyes glint like a well-fed cat's.

itachi turns his chair. by the doorway. a pretty pink-haired woman stands, her face sheepish. she has a white coat on.

"hello," itachi greets.

"hello! nice to meet you, " she greets back. a normal person. maybe sasuke isn't as rebellious as itachi thought him to be.

sasuke stands up from his chair. itachi peeks at his expression. if he didn't know his brother well, he wouldn't be able to pin down the slight redness in sasuke's ears.

"sakura," ignoring itachi's widening eyes at the informality, sasuke shoves his hands in his pockets, trying to look cool, "i didn't know you were available. "

the woman in question beams, the softness in her eyes giving away nothing and everything. "i dealt with the students. i wanted something other than mountains of snot. i detest flu season."

"you look tired. sit. " sasuke gestures to itachi's seat.

sakura eyes itachi worriedly. "um, i wouldn't want to impose-"

"-he's going now," sasuke interrupts.

"i am?"

"his boyfriend must be less upset with him now."

itachi stands up and leans forward.

"rude, otouto," he mutters. he shoots a smile at the worried woman and whispers. "a nurse? "

sasuke sniffs with disdain and pride. "a doctor. "

itachi shakes his head and exchanging a genuine smile with the pretty doctor, he heads out. picking out his phone, he calls his boyfriend.

"hello? " kisame asks, confused over itachi calling so early.

"i need the akatsuki to go through the records of a sakura at tokyo metropolitan asuka high school."

[southeastasianists]

Tan Ming Li is a certified death doula. Just as there are those who facilitate bringing new life into the world, there should be people facilitating more and better ways to talk about death and dying, she reasons.

In 2023, she started The Life Review, a social venture with the mission to normalise conversations about death, dying and bereavement. Events open to the public include Life Stories, a series of chat sessions with topics such as “Motherless daughters”, “Real men don’t cry” and “Pet loss and our enduring bonds”; as well as Death Over Dinner, in which people come together to have conversations guided by Tan about their personal experiences with loss while sharing a meal.

The last Death Over Dinner took place at South Indian restaurant Podi & Poriyal, where participants were served dishes containing ingredients with special life and death significance in South Indian culture such as black sesame seeds, which signify purification; and jackfruit, the wood of which is often used as funeral pyre logs during cremation.

“What better way for Asians to connect than through food?” said Tan, explaining that Death Over Dinner is actually a global movement that originated in the US, “but we tweaked it so that food was a much bigger component, building the conversations around the ingredients and dishes. In other countries, the concept is just for people to talk about death over the dinner table.”

Tan, who is in her 40s, believes that getting comfortable with talking openly and honestly about such topics is vitally important.

“A nationwide survey conducted last year (by the Singapore Management University) revealed that ‘only 53 per cent of Singaporeans are comfortable discussing their own death while barely a third (33.4 per cent) would do so with someone who is dying’,” she shared.

She feels there is also a tendency to over-medicalise conversations about death, focusing on treatments and doctors.

“As a society, death is not something that is commonly discussed and we tend to be ‘death-denying’. Healthcare and wellness are all about ‘preventing’ death. In fighting against death, we are unaccepting of this natural part of life. This makes it hard to be vulnerable about our emotions around it,” she said.

Even if you haven’t lost a loved one yourself, “When someone else experiences a loss, many of us don’t know how to address the topic and end up using platitudes like ‘I’m sorry for your loss’ or worse, ‘Everything happens for a reason’,” she pointed out.

Ironically, avoiding the subject of death inadvertently gives it more power. “This power can then suppress our thoughts, beliefs and behaviour,” she opined.

NO STRANGER TO DEATH AND DENIAL

Tan speaks from personal experience. When she was 17, her mum died of cancer. “Dad said, ‘Don’t worry, she will recover.’ Her sudden passing left us in shock. I remember my dad brought me to the hospital canteen, broke the news to me and simply said, ‘We just have to accept it and move on’. I don’t think he ever recovered. As far as I recall, there were no conversations about it within the family.

“In the years that followed, I lost my dad, grandma, uncles and aunts… I was frozen in my grief response and it took a mental health crisis for me to start addressing these issues.”

Concurrently, Tan had always been interested in social work, from her university years when she volunteered to support children with special needs, to volunteering to teach yoga and breathing at various institutions including the Society for the Physically Disabled (SPD) and the Institute of Mental Health (IMH). She also lived in Thailand for several years, where she gave her time to a social enterprise helping indigenous craftsmen sell their goods.

Her career was in Advertising Research until she took a sabbatical and travelled to India in 2013. Following that period of time in which to think and reflect, she embarked on a new path, offering services such as mindfulness and movement.

“In the course of my work, I encountered clients who are terminally ill or grieving the loss of a loved one. Curious about how to better support them, I started researching the topic,” she recalled. “One day, I received an email from students working on a grief literacy event, inviting me to facilitate a somatic movement session for parents who had lost their child. Somatic movement involves exploring the body's sensations and movements to promote healing. During this session, many participants were able to release long held emotions within their bodies, even years after their loved one had passed.”

Motivated by the experience, she enrolled in the death doula course offered by the International End of Life Doula Association, an organisation in the US. Participants acquire skills revolving around how to support and comfort the dying and their loved ones.

“As I delved deeper into the subject, I realised that this was something that needed to go beyond supporting my clients one-to-one. The societal reluctance to discuss death openly leads to a lot of discomfort and unresolved emotions surrounding the topic, and I realised the need to scale and bring this out to the public,” she said.

So, “I decided to pursue a Masters of Science degree in Thanotology – even doctors go, ‘What’s that?’ – and start The Life Review as a platform for people to get comfortable discussing end-of-life matters through education and engagement.”

As far as she knows, she’s the only one in Singapore taking a Masters in Thanatology (“When the course started, the Programme Director said, ‘Now we are an international programme, thanks to Ming Li!’”) and one of just four people in Singapore who have completed death doula training.

“While trying to help people going through bereavement and grief, it struck me that I also had to look at my own experiences and work through all the emotions and experiences that I hadn’t known how to deal with – or even realised was necessary to,” she divulged.

“The way society operates, if we experience a loss, we are given three days of compassionate leave – and only for immediate family – and then we are expected to get back to ‘normal’ as productive members of society. But what about losing a friend? A partner? A pet? Do you get over it in three days? Since the norm was to get on with life, that’s what I did. It was only later in life that I realised that it was affecting me in ways that I did not immediately connect back to my earlier experiences, such as in the way I interacted with people in relationships and friendships. I would not get too close in case they would disappear,” she shared.

And so, “The main reason I’m doing this now is because of what I have gone through in my own life. The programmes I’m planning are skewed towards caregivers for now, as I don’t want anyone to be in a situation that I was in.” She added, “It was a turning point for me to adopt cats, knowing that they will die before me, yet to accept this and love them.”

Her work has also turned into “my legacy project for my parents”.

“I have a purpose to fulfil now, to bring The Life Review into fruition, in the remaining years left of my life. And in a way, I’m already planning for my end, making sure that I don’t regret things that I could or should have done,” she said.

DINNER WITH A PURPOSE

At Death Over Dinner events, “The framing of conversations is intentionally designed to be inclusive and non-confrontational. Participants are encouraged to share their thoughts and experiences without feeling pressured to delve into deeply personal reflections or imagine their own funerals,” Tan said.

The dinner serves as a casual starting point for discussions about a normally taboo topic to unfold naturally, fostering a sense of comfort and familiarity around the topic of death, she continued. “The intention is not to impose rigid guidelines or restrictions but rather to offer gentle guidance and prompts to steer the dialogue in a constructive direction” while embracing cultural elements within our specific society.

It is also about equipping people with the knowhow and language to either walk alongside a person who is dying, or to support a caregiver.

There are sessions taking place every quarter, which are open for individual sign-ups. The next Death Over Dinner event is planned for Apr 25 at Podi & Poriyal, with a group size of 12 to 16 people. Tan is also open to private group bookings, and hopes to possibly work with other restaurants as well.

The topic of death is rarely broached when everyone is healthy, she mused. But, in the face of loss, which comes sooner or later to all of us, “People may struggle to find the right words to express their feelings or fears, fearing that broaching the topic could cause further distress or discomfort to the person who is ill. As a result, conversations about end-of-life wishes, funeral arrangements, or even acknowledging the possibility of death may be avoided altogether, creating a palpable tension and unease.

"Dealing with it openly and saying what needs to be said can help the ones left behind adjust to the loss after the person passes away.”

And, “In the case of someone who knows they are dying, people around them not wanting to talk about it can leave them feeling unheard. They may not be able to express their desires; there may be things left unsaid; there may be people tiptoeing around them and telling them, ‘You’re going to be fine’ when they know full well they won’t be.”

The question of how we can begin to approach the topic of death in a meaningful way begs another: How talking about death openly and frankly can help us to live our lives more fully and intentionally.

“Accepting the finite nature of life and finding peace with it can change our outlook on life. When we acknowledge that life inevitably starts and ends, we are able to define what happens in between that holds significance,” Tan said.

“How do we make what happens in the middle matter? How do we leave a legacy for ourselves and future generations? Do we want to spend our time sweating the small stuff and harbouring grudges, or instead, use it to create memories and foster deep relationships? Living intentionally prompts us to confront these questions and align our actions with our values.

“Ultimately, embracing the impermanence of life compels us to live authentically, love fiercely and leave a legacy of compassion and connection.”

To sign up for Death Over Dinner, visit https://thelifereview.org/death-over-dinner.

[simslegacy5083]

Not So Berry (Straud Descendants) Gen 9

Today's (8/28/2024) Episode: On Her Shoulders

Luigi’s reputation was critical to maintain his endorsement deals, buzz for his game, and of course his actual e-sports career, so he took it seriously.

One easy way to make others see him as a “good sim” was regular donations to charity.

He found worthy causes to associate his name with, such as Tess’s ex-boyfriend Julio’s “happiness for all” campaign and the Tomorang Renters Fund, which temporarily paid the rent for sims who were down on their luck so they wouldn’t get evicted and wind up homeless.

Luigi’s enterprising efforts were only possible by the grace of his rock-solid support system.

Now that it was her full-time job, Noemi had taken over the lion’s share of management and development for Project Daisy, in addition to being Skye’s primary caregiver. She’d never been the best at dealing with strangers, and lately organizing their staff of artists and programmers was wearing through her patience faster than it ever had before. It was a trial she could only bear by assigning herself chunks of relaxing code work between meetings.

The freedom to pick her own timelines and teammates was undeniably the part of being “lead programmer” that got her through all the rest, but her strange irritability remained a worrying mystery. Fortunately, at her annual GYN checkup, her doctor put her mind at ease with a simple explanation.

Noemi was officially going through “the change” and her issues were just temporary side effects of her body and mind adjusting to the perfectly normal and expected changes of leaving her child-bearing years (and hormones) behind.

Noemi was honestly relieved by her advancing age. She had never feared the idea of growing older and she and Luigi had long ago decided they were “one and done” in the kid department. If anything, saying goodbye to worries about a second unplanned pregnancy was a big win!

Her doctor warned her about other unpleasant symptoms that might pop up, but she was hardly listening as she gleefully composed emails pushing her most annoying issues back to Luigi.

“These hot flashes make me way too sweaty during the all-hands standup meeting. I’m going to need you to take those over.” … “Susan’s being a plumhole about revising the walk animations. Talk her around before I shiv her. Mood swings, you know.”

By the next time both sims had a day off, Noemi was feeling much more like herself, and they made some time to visit family.

Luigi and the relatives he was closest to had mostly ended up childless or with small families, but Chance and Bianca’s daughter Fern wanted a full house. When her third little one was born, she invited his family over to meet the new addition and hang out with the rest of her crew.

While the energetic Skye played outside with Fern’s doggie and the other kids, Luigi and Noemi headed in to say hello to little Alice. Noemi and Luigi had a great time holding the adorable tiny newborn and an even better time handing it back for a diaper change with big smiles. No more for them!

Even their next stop, seeing relatives at the wake for Denton’s mother Nikita, put no significant damper on Noemi’s improved mood.

She was, of course, sad for her friend’s loss, but the quiet atmosphere, surrounded by sims she knew well as her husband mixed drinks behind the bar, was as close to her ideal evening as was possible without a sturdy set of padded handcuffs.

She’d felt lonely and misunderstood as Kiana’s “too young” wife, but loving Luigi had brought her right into the heart of his warm family circle.

As Denton wept on her shoulder, she reflected on how happy she was to have given this strange family a second chance.

View The Full Story of My Not So Berry Challenge Here

[maxwell-grant]

So yesterday was my birthday and I invited a friend over to watch some movies we’d been each putting off. He showed me They Live, which I’d somehow never seen, for the first time, and I repaid the favor by breaking his brain with Speed Racer and letting him see how everyone ever was 100% wrong about that movie at release and it is in fact the best thing ever, but in regards to They Live:

I expected a good time and had a really great one. I knew about it’s central alien allegory, and how it’s been co-opted by anti-semitic memes and right-wingers who think they’re being cute. I knew it inspired dialogue in Duke Nukem, I knew it was a John Carpenter film starring Roddy Piper with Keith David in it, and that was it. I was blissfully unaware of everything else, including the fact that it somehow winds up being a spiritual successor of “The Challenge of the Beyond”, the pulp writer round robin exercise nowadays most famous for it’s H.P Lovecraft - Robert E.Howard parts.

There’s a post on it that floats around regularly and I’ll link here for better explanation, but in short: Lovecraft’s section of this story had the protagonist George faint from terror constantly and go mad after turning into a giant alien centipede, which was followed by Robert E.Howard immediately retconning said madness in his opening line and having the character embrace his new life as a horrid centipede beast in a new planet and go on a conquering rampage of “titanic adventure” as George the Centipede Barbarian. I bring up George the Centipede Barbarian not because it’s funny, but because They Live intentionally pulled off a very similar kind of brutal tonal dissonance.

They Live is very comparable to The Thing in the sense that it is a 50s concept told through 80s filmmaking and distorted accordingly, to the extent that the black and white parts are not just colored differently, but shot differently from the rest of the film in a way that’s far more reminiscent of 50s horror films. Our protagonist is an 80s meathead cowboy who lives in a struggling urban landscape with mysteries and horrors he never quite understood but continue to plague him and those around him, and he has a moment of truth when he puts on magical sunglasses and finds out that he’s been living in a Twilight Zone episode the whole time, and so has everyone. The black and white allegorical terrors won and have been running everything all along, and that is the point the episode should end with our protagonist horrified and broken, “wouldn’t that be fucked up / doesn’t this remind you of something / these horrors are real” message conveyed, episode over.

Except our protagonist is an 80s meathead cowboy, so instead of surrendering to the horrors after finding out everything is a monstrous lie, he fights back with a shotgun and a bag of one-liners. Dude just immediately, like not even 10 minutes after he first puts on the glasses, starts blasting alien cops and bankers and spaceships. I really did not think that “bubblegum” one-liner happened that early in the movie. This dissonance would have been wonderful regardless but it helps that it’s done so intentionally.

I really didn’t expect that the movie was this 100% completely blatantly unsubtle about the true nature of the alien ghouls as bloodsucking capitalists. It’s not some veiled allegory that can be left to interpretation, the movie tells you repeteadly and explicitly what it is about. The film tells you that the aliens are weaponizing communist paranoia to gain control over cops, preceding a line “We'll do anything to be rich” and then a description of them as “They are free enterprisers. Earth is just another developing planet, their third world” is actual dialogue from the film and that’s just before we learn the aliens all wear expensive watches, that most of the cops going around brutally gunning down the resistance are humans who sold out, and get scenes of the aliens and humans standing around in suits congratulating each other on profit margins. I don’t meant this as an insult but it’s frankly cartoonish in how unsubtle it is, it’s insulting that John Carpenter even had to set the record straight with Yes This Was About Capitalism and Reagan and Yuppie Bloodsuckers You Stupid Fucks like the movie isn’t hammering the point constantly.

If you haven’t watched it, did anyone ever tell you that the inciting incident of the movie is the protagonist being radicalized by police brutality? Yeah, funny, nobody ever talks about what happens in the movie before George puts on the sunglasses. The first 20 or so minutes are about the protagonist, George Nada, arriving in the city and struggling to find a job or place to stay and being offered one by Keith David’s character Frank, who takes him to a homeless community. They have a handful of dialogues together where Frank repeteadly expresses a cynical viewpoint towards life under You-Know-What, over opportunities turning into traps and steel mills giving themselves raises by screwing workers over, and George brushes him off stating he still believes in America, he still believes in getting a fair shot.

George is quickly and immediately reduced to horrified bystander as the police storms his community and destroys their church and goes around beating up them up and evicting tents by bulldozer, while George runs around trying to help and save at least one of them. The next time we see him, he puts on the sunglasses and learns the awful truth and starts his rampage (framed in no uncertain terms as an act of revolution) by doing, what else, shooting cops. Or, well, aliens who approach him as cops and tell him that, now that he sees them, they can work out a deal to profit together if he just goes quietly. The movie makes it as obvious as it could possibly make it.

So yeah, watch They Live, it’s Duke Nukem vs The Twilight Zone’s Episode on Capitalism (with Extended “Guys Being Dudes” Action, I’m glad I didn’t know about that alleyway fight scene beforehand). Also watch Speed Racer, it’s glorious, and it has the exact same villains. Had a really great time yesterday with both.

[electronickingdomfox]

"The Price of the Phoenix" review

These are the naked voyages of naked Captain Kirk of the USS Enterprise...

Published in 1977, and written by Marshak & Culbreath (editors of The New Voyages collection of short stories). I had already read some books by these same authors, and their hyperbolic, hyper-emotional writing is present here as well. There's something really awkward about their writing, and a lot of times I found myself re-reading passages, because I had no idea what was going on. To quote McCoy at one point: "Spock, will you speak English?" There's too much introspection, description of feelings and discourses for my taste. Also, the authors often use the characters to voice their own philosophical ideas, and their theories about alpha males, whether it fits the character or not. Overall, I don't think the novel felt very Trek-like, or that the characters were "right" (Spock, in particular).

The book is sufficiently weird to be worth the reading, though. According to the authors, it was personally approved by Roddenberry. It's also notorious for being quite dark and violent for TOS standards, and for having Kirk completely naked half the time. Which means, this is Roddenberry-sanctioned smut, no less.

Some spoilers under the cut.

The plot is very simple and straightforward. The Enterprise is visiting a rogue planet ruled by the giant Omne, who offers refuge for bandits all over the galaxy. The Romulan Commander (from The Enterprise Incident) is also there, negotiating with Omne. Kirk is presumed dead during an accident on the planet, but Omne reveals to Spock and the Commander that he has conquered death through a process to clone a person, with all his thoughts and memories intact. He offers a new, shiny Kirk clone, in exchange of Spock betraying the Federation, and the support from the Romulan Empire (the prize for the Commander would be keeping both Kirk and Spock for herself, after their betrayal). Things change once they discover that the original Kirk actually survived and is locked inside a subterranean labyrinth. Then Spock, the Commander and clone-Kirk storm the complex to rescue him, while getting into plenty of fist fights against Omne.

There's something reminiscent of Westerns in the one-on-one duels, and the general badass attitudes. It's probably intentional, given the Wild West motifs throughout the book. Spock dresses and talks like Clint Eastwood, which is... great. The Romulan Commander is also a total badass, and I liked her better in this novel than in the series episode. As counterpart, we have the scantily clothed Kirk clone, who's pretty cute and vulnerable, and develops a moving romance with the Commander. The love story, for once, has a happy ending. I liked them as a couple. Omne, the supreme alpha male, dressed in a black jumpsuit with a holster for his revolver, is an entertaining villain. Suitably obnoxious in his invincibility. I was a bit confused about his real motivations, though.

To summarize, even if I didn't particularly enjoy reading this novel, it was entertaining in its own crazy way. Also, Spock receives a kick in his groin. Consider that.

Spirk Meter: 11/10*. Yup. This novel is slashier than the series or movies ever were. Spock is willing to risk everything to save Kirk, even betraying the Federation. But that's not it. Things like that happened several times in the series, and it's the whole plot of the third movie. There are, however, a couple scenes that are the reason for this high rating. One happens when Spock mind melds with a totally naked Kirk clone. They move "surprisingly close" to each other, and there's an undeniably eroticism in the descriptions of Kirk being "warm" and "open" to Spock's touch. Not enough? Well, Spock also creates a bond with him, to monitor his movements. Another scene happens when Kirk (the original one) undresses Spock to treat his wounds. Of course, it goes without saying that Kirk's naked while doing so (because Omne treated his wounds previously, and didn't care to give him clothes). So yeah, Kirk gets to bounce his stuff around a lot, as the cheerful alpha male he is. One could argue that the fight in Amok Time surpasses this, since the sexual motif is explicit there. However, I think that the scenes from the book read as more erotic than anything Kirk has done with Spock (or any woman) in the series.

On another side of things, Omne's total obsession with Kirk is quite telling. One moment he's beating him to a pulp, and the next he's tenderly treating his wounds, and planning for them to spend a thousand years together in their bunker. If clone Kirk and the Commander is the main love story, it's obvious that Kirk and Omne are intended as a dark, twisted counterpart for that.

The great loser in all this is McCoy, who despite being the doctor, never got to treat any naked Kirk. He calls him gorgeous, though, and manages to touch his scars a bit while he's dressing. But I guess McCoy wasn't alpha enough for the authors. Sorry, Bones.

*A 10 in this scale is the most obvious spirk moments in TOS. Think of the back massage, "You make me believe in miracles", or "Amok Time" for example.

[dominickeating-source]

Star Trek Magazine Issue #113 (2004)

TRUE BRIT

It's not often you see Brits playing action heroes on US TV, but Englishman Dominic Keating not only gets to wave the Union Jack in Star Trek: Enterprise ,but he also gets to kick alien backside as the show's heroic tactical officer, Malcolm Reed. And with the current season featuring even more action and adventure, the actor reveals to Ian Spelling whether he's enjoying putting the right royal boot into the Xindi...

Dominic Keating was not a major proponent of making changes to Star Trek: Enterprise. He believed that the show was warping along just fine and didn't need the MACOs, the Delphic Expanse, a sexed-up T'Pol (Jolene Blalock) or a name change. He said as much, on the record, while the changes were still in the rumour phase, and again when they were first implemented at the beginning of Season Three. Even now, despite the fact that he appreciates some of the tinkering, he still sounds fairly unconvinced about the necessity to meddle.

"I didn't think we were turning out a bad product," Keating says. "I've watched all of the episodes we've done religiously and I thought that given the constrictions of episodic television, we were turning out a pretty good show. I thought the show was entertaining, well crafted and well acted. And it looked good. Having said that, I can't argue about the last nine or 10 episodes, through the first half of the third season, haven't been better. They have been - perhaps better than the [previous] good ones. So they've really raised the bar from what I felt was a pretty elevated bar already.

I'm not sure what the fan reaction to the changes has really been. My contact with the fans, other than meeting them at conventions, is pretty limited. I do know that the episodes we did a few weeks ago, Similitude , was our highest rated episode since last year. It got a 3.0 national and a 5.0 perfect score, which is pretty big. Millions of people watched that show, and that's a good sign. We only ever get a 2.0, so it tells us that people right in the heart of America liked that show. That's a considerable uptick."

The changes have certainly impacted on Keating directly, with his character, Malcolm Reed, having a lot more to do in the conflict with the Xindi. There's also a nice bit of tension building between Reed and the military force, the MACOs, based on the ship. They usurp his power as the Enterprise NX-01's tactical officer, and trouble seems to be brewing between Reed and the MACO leader, Major Hayes (Steven Culp).

"I'm getting to run around a lot more since we got started in the changes," Keating says. "I've got to jump and duck considerably more. There's a lot more action for me. And I guess that I'm in the show more than I was during the first season and most of the second season. The thing I liked about the first two seasons, in retrospect, was that I got a bone thrown at me at least once or twice a year, with a good solid episode that was just Reed, or with Reed as the A-story. That hasn't happened yet this year and I don't know if it will. I'm not ruling it out, but it seems that the accent is much more on this arc apropos the Xindi, and the race to get them before they get to Earth. And I don't know if there's particularly time in the timeline for a character-driven Reed episode. We'll see. You never know. 

"But just from watching the show, I do like the MACOs," he continues. "I think they are a good addition. I was not sure about it initially, to be honest. I thought it could be a bit hackneyed, but I think they've been well introduced and assimilated in to the show. I think when they are brought online, they add a really good dose of salt and pepper to the action sequences. Where I can look quite athletic and jump and run, I'm not about to break my neck in the process. Most of the MACO guys are our stuntmen, and they'll happily do somersaults over railings all day long. God bless them.

"I can't give too much away, but we're shooting an episode right now with [director] David Livingston at the helm again, and the episode brings to the fore the friction that was first alluded to between Reed and Major Hayes. We'd dropped that conflict for a while, because Reed seemed to be accepting the need for MACOs and the [show's] powers-that-be wanted the characters on the same page. But in this episode, finally the bubble bursts and all hell breaks loose, and Reed and Hayes have a massive fight. It's good stuff."

Shooting not just that fight, but other interactions between Reed and Major Hayes has meant that Keating has spent a good deal of time in the company of Culp. And to hear Keating tell it, he's got no complaints about doing so. "Steven is great," the actor notes. "I actually met Steven while doing a radio play for KCRW about four years ago, think it was. Richard Dreyfus was in it as well. It was a play about one of the generals during the American Civil War, and Steven and I met doing it. And we kept in touch. We also happen to go to the same gym together. So we sort of saw each other over the years and then it was just terrific that he was brought on board to play Hayes on the show. He's great on the show. He's just a very, very hard working actor. He's just come fresh off The West Wing and he was going on to do ER . He'd done a couple of episodes of Lyon's Den, the Rob Lowe show, and he's just a very happening actor around town at the moment.

Not to dwell on the negative, but Keating acknowledges that the Enterprise set was a bit of a gloomy place mid-way through Season Two. The ratings were down. Various magazines were devoting cover stories about ways in which the show could be saved. And several of the actors, Keating among them, worried about their job status.

There were a few weeks, I have to say, where there was the spectre that Star Trek may be in the grasp...in the vagaries of episodic telly, and that we might get cancelled or at least not renewed, just like any other show," he notes. "Scott [Bakula] shook all of our hands the other night and said '66'. I wasn't sure what he meant. I was thinking bingo. He said, 'Episode 66, pal in he can. That's something to be proud of, especially I this day and age, when most shows don't last three days.'

"And it's true," Keating nods. "He's right. I noticed they dropped Tarzan after, what, maybe five episodes? And I know that Skin was cancelled after just three episodes. Skin was a good TV show. It was a modern-day reworking of the Romeo and Juliet story and it was well done. They had some good actors in there, starting with Ron Silver, And it's terrible that nobody is giving anything a chance."

Keating cracks up when asked if Bakula is more often than not the cheerleader on the Enterprise set, the guy who lifts everyone's spirits when they require lifting. "It certainly isn't John Billingsley!" he jokes. "No, I'm kidding. I'm the worrywart. I'm the one who rings up on Thursday morning to see what the ratings were like the night before. I don't know if everyone realises that, but they must because I'm always the one taking command of the fax. "I guess I'm also the cheerleader. I like our show, I really do. I like what we're doing. Scott's much more of the mind that, 'We can only do what we do, and leave it at that.' Connor [Trinneer] is kind of that way, too. I don't know if it's a good thing, but I guess I am [the cheerleader]. You want some sort of stability inside this very dodgy framework, in this business. It's not easy to hold on to. There's just not a lot of time to celebrate the good news. After the ratings came out for Similitude , I went up to Scott and said, 'Great job.' I rang Connor and said, 'Fantastic show, mate. You didn't miss a beat. Really great job.' I don't know that everyone else does that kind of thing. [Director of photography] Marvin Rush tends to come up to you and say, ' I saw yesterday's dailies. That scene with you and Connor is fantastic. You're going to love it.' Marvin watches the show religiously. He sees the dailies and he TiVos the episodes."

Getting into the specifics of Season Three, Keating reiterates his earlier point that while it's true that there's not been a Reed-centric episode per se, Reed's been an active force in several shows. "I've quite enjoyed most of what I've gotten to do this season," he notes. "As I say, I haven't had the big bone thrown at me. But I've been a very good supporting actor this year, if I can say that myself, when I've been called upon to support scenes or do B-lines. I've done a lot of B-lines this season. And I'm happy to be in that place.

"I've been working more hours than the first couple of seasons, but I still get a bit of time out and can do the shopping and get the laundry done and so on. God knows, I think about the rest of the cast and crew, and unless you're married I don't know how you run your life. I really don't. They work 70 to 80 hours a week and the weekend has got to be spent doing laundry, going shopping, then sleeping on Sunday, and it's back to work on Monday. It's pretty gruelling for 10 months a year.

"People who do sitcoms, they have the easiest job in town, mate," Keating laughs. "Once you get down to doing a show in front of a live audience, that's pretty fun. Once you've done it two or three times, then you don't mind the audience. I did a sitcom in England. I did five or six years of sitcom. I'd been in front of a couple of cameras before, but when you're in front of five cameras and 500 people...I was sweating bullets that first time. But once you've done it a few times, it's actually quite enjoyable. Hour-long episodes, that's hard. Matthew Perry just did The West Wing and he said it was quite an awakening for him after having done Friends for so long."

But back to Reed and this season of Enterprise. Keating agrees to offer up some more detail about the episode that finds him butting heads and going mano to mano with Major Hayes. "I think it's going to be called Harbinger ,' " the actor says. "It's going to be for the February sweeps. [Co-executive producer] Manny Coto wrote it. He also wrote Similitude , and I think this one is going to be just as good. He's a really, really welcome addition to the team. I can tell he just loves writing Star Trek . He throws so many balls into the air and then deftly flourishes it into a big ball, with a bow at the end.

"In Harbinger, the Captain suggests that the MACOs give us the benefit of their advanced combat training, and that really gets up my nose. I'm pressed-ganged by the Captain into accepting the Major's proposal, which Hayes had gone behind my back to Archer with, and when the Major tries to figure out the logistics of this training and how it's going to be conducted, I really let him have it. 

"Beyond that episode, I have no idea what's coming up. I get asked 'What's coming up?' a lot and I wish I could answer it whenever somebody asks it. We haven't got a clue. I have no idea. I would imagine that we are going to fight the Xindi for the rest of this season. Whether they decide to take the storyline through to the next season, I don't know. But I have a feeling that the mission is quite important. I think a sense of purpose has got to be introduced. You either stick with the Xindi or you introduce a new mission next season and we go on that arc."

"However, I think just reverting back to episodic, one-hour complete stories won't work at this juncture," he continues. "When I look around at shows like Alias and 24 ,these big shows that seem to be garnering so much attention, they're episodic and you could watch one episode, but its much, much more fun and more meaningful if you're following the story. That seems to be what audiences like at the moment.

"I've got ideas, but I don't want to bug [executive producer] Brannon Braga too much, to be honest." Keating adds as the conversation comes to an end. "He's got enough on his plate without actors ringing up and going, 'What about my character?' So we'll just see. But if I were going to ring Brannon, the only thing I would say was, 'You might flesh him out a bit.' I just don't know if there's time, as I say, in this timeline the show is on right now. I don't know that Reed having a love interest of whatever description or an episode that got into his backstory and added some emotional depth, can happen at the moment. I don't know that there's time. They want to do that story with Trip, and they're really pushing the Trip-T'Pol storyline.

I have to think privately, to myself, ' I'm an English actor on an American TV show and I ain't done too badly,' I'm an English actor not playing the captain on an American TV show, so I'm quite happy with what they give me. You've got to come back down to basics in the end, and that's one of the basics, that I'm a British actor on an American show. And the cheques clear!"

DIRECT CONTROL

Dominic Keating will direct Star Trek: Enterprise one of these days. That's been a goal of his from the get-go. He took a course at the Los Angeles film school and he's been shadowing director's on the Enterprise set. Unfortunately, his plan has taken a little bit of a back seat this season. 

"That's only because I've had so many more hours spent in front of the camera rather than time out to look behind the camera," says Keating, who hopes to write and direct a short film based on a story Scott Bakula told him about his son, Will. "I had some time out. I had a week at one point, but I was sick. I wanted to shadow Robbie McNeill and spend some time in the edit suite, but I got the damn flu and I spent five days banged up here in bed. It was the worst flu I've had in....forever. But directing is still a plan of action, and whenever I'm even just working on set I'm always earwigging the conversations between the director and Marvin Rush and watching the compilation of a shot. Then when I look at the shows themselves, part of me is watching the show and watching performance, but 65-70 per cent of me is watching how it's framed, how it's cut and how it's jig-sawed together.

"I actually did do an episode of a local [Los Angeles public access] show called The Heartbreak Kid ,and it was pretty damn good. Given the strictures of amateur production, it was actually not bad at all. I would do it again in a heartbeat. And I do hope to direct Enterprise eventually."

Source: www.dominickeating.com

[stars-inthe-sky]

15 questions for 15 friends

Tagged by: @village-skeptic

Are you named after anyone? My Hebrew name (Ariel B'rucha) is allegedly to do with two Benjamins, which I've never fully understood but remain grateful my parents went with that instead of Benyamina, in general but also because with Jewish day school I ended up getting called Ariel half of every school day for six years.

When was the last time you cried? Probably in November or December. Morning sickness suuuuuuucked.

Do you have kids? One extant, one en route, one dog that I refuse to call a "fur baby" but she definitely thinks she's people

What sports do you play/have you played? I played softball from ages 9 through 18; you'd think I'd've been better at it. I had a brief kindergarten-era stint on a soccer team but was very much the kid who made daisy chains for both teams (including during gameplay). As an adult, I've been much more into solo enterprises like running and skiing; I'm not especially remarkable at any athletic endeavors, but those make me much happier.

Do you use sarcasm? Frequently, although I try to tone it down around Bébé, who is incredibly verbal and soaks up anything you say like a sponge but doesn't quite appreciate the nuances of adult conversations yet.

What’s the first thing you notice about people? Clothes? Hair? I don't know. If I'm just wandering around the neighborhood it's probably whether they have a dog along.

What’s your eye color? Green

Scary movies or happy endings? Happy endings, for sure. I'd even take unhappy endings over anything scary or horror.

Any talents? I've been told reaction gifs are my superpower, but most people don't know that's just being on Tumblr for too long.

Where were you born? Philadelphia

What are your hobbies? Knitting, running/exercise (though less so at the moment because third trimester), this hellsite

Do you have any pets? Phoebe the mini goldendoodle!

How tall are you? 5'5"

Favorite subject in school? English/literature/creative writing, although I majored in political science in college and took enough extra math and science classes in high school that the college counselor thought I wanted to go pre-med.

Tagging: @angstyteenagesam, @ballroompink, @clubgetright, @gallifreyburning, @hondagirll, @iloveyouandilikeyou, @kyrafic, @lulabo, @miabicicletta, @poehlaris, @ryeloza, @sadieb798, @stillscape, @sullenaquarian, and @whimzical

[moorheadthanyoucanhandle]

DOVE TALE

Again and again I find myself sheepishly admitting that Star Trek, as in the original series, is my all-time favorite TV show. It's a little embarrassing to acknowledge that, north of sixty years old, I keep going back for comfort and refreshment to the corny sci-fi show that I loved as a kid.

Worse yet, for all the show's sophomoric heavy-handedness and cultural chauvinism and ludicrous science and inconsistently applied social values, I keep finding relevance, even prescience in it.

For instance, this past weekend I watched the third-season episode, scripted by the redoubtable Jerome Bixby (also author of the story that became the Twilight Zone favorite "It's a Good Life"), called "Day of the Dove..."

You may remember it: Both the Enterprise and a crew of Klingons arrive at a planet, lured there under false pretenses by a powerful incorporeal alien Entity. Through a variety of mind tricks and matter transmutation, the Entity gets the Federation crew and the Klingons trapped together aboard the Enterprise, which is hurtling out of control on course to leave the galaxy.

Onboard, the factions are allowed their own turf, armed with swords--Scotty admires "a Claymore..."

...and psychically aroused to furious hatred toward their adversaries and even toward each other. They soon discover that the conflict between them is self-renewing; their wounds heal miraculously and the Entity allows neither side complete victory.

As a kid, I always thought it was a pretty cool episode. It had plenty of action, including swordfights, and the coolest and most badass of all the original series Klingons, Kang, played by the rumbly-voiced Michael Ansara...

...towering over Shatner...

It was also the only glimpse we ever got, in the original series, of Klingon women, notably Susan Howard as Kang's wife and science officer Mara...

In the course of the show Chekov, under the Entity's evil influence, attempts to violate Mara, although it looks like she could smack his little ass across the corridor with one hand.

Along with Chekov, Kirk, McCoy, Scotty and Uhura all get to work themselves up into highly entertaining angry lathers in this one. Shatner's in particularly hilarious, wound-up form here: "Look at me...Look. At. Me." And there's the great moment when the hysterical Scotty, responding to Spock's attempt to calm him, says "Keep your Vulcan hands off me," but it sounds like he said "Keep your f**kin' hands off me."

But watching it the other night, it occurred to me that this episode seems unusually relevant these days. I noticed this a few years ago about the second-season episode "The Omega Glory" as well. The theme, about the dangers of fetishizing and theocratizing America's foundational documents and other objects of patriotic regard like the flag, seems like a pedestrian, basic civics lesson. But it turns out that our society needs to be reminded of it regularly.

Similarly, with "Day of the Dove," the message might seem, at a glance, like the usual honorable but ineffectual Star Trek platitudes about the horrors of war and the bondage of bigotry and the liberating virtue of tolerance. But now, in light of the revelations from the Dominion lawsuit, it has a strikingly specific subtext. Because, of course, the reason the invading Entity is attempting to create this hellish eternal conflict on the Enterprise is that it feeds on violent hatreds, turning from yellowish-white to a happy shade of red...

...when it sucks up some delicious fury.

It creates false narratives in people's minds to stir up their bloodlust--Chekov claims his brother was killed by the Klingons; Sulu later explains that the brother is imaginary, as Chekov is an only child--and feeds both sides with propaganda to gin up enmity. Essentially, the Entity is a farmer, planting outrage so that it can harvest rage.

In other words, the Entity is Fox News, and the "news" media machine of which Fox News is the most successful and egregious example. I mean, isn't it, kind of?

In this context, some of Bixby's lines take on an extra resonance, as when Kirk speculates "Has a war been staged for us, complete with weapons and ideology and patriotic drum beating? Even...Spock...even race hatred?"

Or, when Kirk says "It exists on the hate of others," and Spock replies "To put it simply. And it has acted as a catalyst, creating this situation in order to satisfy that need."

Or, again, Kirk's desperate appeal to Kang, in the climactic minutes: "...and it goes on, the good old game of war, pawn against pawn! Stopping the bad guys. While somewhere, something sits back, and laughs, and starts it all over again."

In the end, Kang is persuaded, a truce is ordered, and the weakened Entity is chased off the Enterprise to hearty laughter from both sides...

Kang slaps Kirk on the back and for a second it looks like Kirk is going to pass out. A lovely moment; I would highly recommend it for our nation right now. But as the Entity goes flittering off the ship into space, it's all too easy to imagine it scurrying down to some TV "News" Network on some unsuspecting planet.