#is she simply overestimating herself?

[sirenofthegreenbanks]

mongwoo playing baduk against the qing ambassador is . very symbolic. THEYRE GONNA TEAM UP IM CALLING IT. (she and the king.) they compliment each other incredibly well, were one has a weakness the other is strong. mongwoo is frankly shit at schemes when real people are involved, and the king is too laden by real-people events and a certain kind of viewpoint when playing baduk. he cant entirely free himself from the strategist he needs to be as the king of a court of vipers, making him worse at baduk than mongwoo. meanwhile mongwoo has the mental flexibility and freedom to see things from unsuspecting angles; she seems to have ingraved the baduk rules in her heart and is now applying them expertly. but a baduk board is different from a real country with real people; her stakes when playing were never big enough to carry that burden. but should they team up they could compliment each other‘s strengths and weaknesses and they could take advantage of mongwoo‘s unique position as a woman crossdressing as the king‘s favourite official. she can go to places the king cant. she has access to the common people, his countrypeople, in a way he hasnt and never will. if they apply their combined smarts, cunning, and good heartedness to handle the precarious situation with the qing things would start to take a turn

[project-catgirlpillar]

I think Viewing Monika as some Kind of evil Mastermind does her character a huge disservice for multiple reasons but also Just cause it ascribes her a Level of competence she simply does Not display

[halfmoonaria]

testify

pairing: cairo sweet x reader

summary: you expose cairo to the truth she's been trying to escape from.

words: 1.1k

warnings: language & parental issues

"Cairo, What the fuck are you doing?"

Your voice was cold, sharp, and if it wasn't for Cairos focus on the pen moving in her notebook, she would've been startled. Your voice had never sounded so, angry.

Although Cairo couldn't help but let the rage within her continue to simmer and bubble.

"I'm completing my admissions essay." She stated simply, trying not to direct the anger towards you.

However, you had rage raising within you as well, and you had no plan on trying to control it. Her ignorance and lack of empathy was starting to piss you off, and you knew that she was aware of that.

"Don't act foolish Cairo." You spit, walking closer towards her ginormous bed, getting a closer look on the cigarette in her hand; a habit she had picked up to impress your current English teacher. "It doesn't suit you."

She didn't dare to look up, not until you brought up his name. "What are you doing to Mr. Miller?"

Cairo looked up at the mention of the teacher, and it was at that you noticed the trails of mascara stains under her eyes.

Her gaze didn't look regretful, it looked full of a burning desire for revenge.

"I'm testifying against him, infront of the school board." She stated simply, putting the notebook and pencil beside her to sit up, her legs hanging from the bedside.

"Why?" Your voice came out way more questioning than you had planned on. But you weren't stupid, you knew why Cairo was doing this, you had heard the full story from Winnie, and parts of it from Cairo herself.

Cairo was known by her friends to be vengeful, she always held a grudge towards people when she didn't get her way, like now. She didn't successfully seduce Mr. Miller, so now she's trying to fire him.

"He underestimated me. I overestimated him." She stood to her feet, slowly walking alongside the bed, like she was scared of you. Although you knew she wasn't, Cairo wasn't scared of anything; even when she should've been.

Her way of showing she had more power than the other person, had always been slowly walking towards them, deep eye contact with the person who she was trying to intimidate.

It never seemed to work with you.

"You're gonna ruin his life." You spoke, voice hard enough to shatter glass, the sentence and the harsh tone in your voice made Cairo stop, her jaw clenching. "And for what?"

Your voice came out as a whisper, but you didn't pay it any mind, since it seemed to make Cairo realize her mistakes. Which was extremely rare for her.

Cairo felt judged. She had never felt that particular type of feeling before, in fact, she never felt anything when people would scold her, nothing but the need for revenge.

Your eyes were looking at Cairo like she was depraved, twisted. Like she was disgusting to look at, she had never cared when anyone else did that. It was different with you tho. It felt like a sharp pain in the chest.

"To avenge your rejection?" Cairo looked back at you as you spoke, your voice basically echoing in her ears. "To punish him? Because he didn't want to fuck you?" You spit out.

"He wanted to fuck me, Y/n." She was quick to reply. Cairo had always been quick-witted, coming up with clever and snarky remarks before the sentence had the chance to be finished, but this time her words sounded more like she was trying to convince herself.

You raised your eyebrows, snorting with laughter at her quick remark, "Sure."

Cairo almost felt frightened when your figure began taking slow steps towards her. She didn't know why she was suddenly feeling so intimidated and afraid by you, was it the look in your eyes? Or the fact that Cairo knew how wise you could be with your words?

"But he didn't leave his wife for you."

The sentence made Cairos face drop, her proud smirk fell as quickly as it appeared, her lips were now quivering instead, a new layer of tears beginning to coat her irises.

She breathed in deeply, chest slowly rising, trying to contain herself from letting the tears fall freely.

"And you know why that is, Cairo?" You moved even further towards her, now standing close enough for her to hear you take a breath before continuing. "Because he loves her."

You spoke slowly, like Cairo was a child that couldn't understand what was said if it wasn't in the right pace. Cairo hated being treated like a child.

"He didn't love you." She wanted to speak, reply with words, something. However her mouth didn't dare to move, was it because you were right? She couldn't bring herself to think that was an actually option.

"He just liked that you gave him the attention his wife isn't."

Cairo no longer cared if you were correct, she was now trying her absolute hardest to not give in, to not let your echoing voice take over her head. It was difficult, to say the least.

"But you thought he loved you, right? Because he showed you the least bit of attention, and you felt lonely.." The fact that you didn't stutter once while speaking, made Cairo feel scared.

She had never seen this side of you.

"Or maybe you felt like his daughter?" You tilted your head slightly, watching as her jaw clenched.

"Did you crave the love from an older man because you haven't experienced it from your father?"

"Stop." Cairos voice was shaky, something she was surprised by hearing herself, her voice had never been shaky, not even when crying as a kid.

You smirked proudly, just like she had been doing just minutes before, which you had quickly wiped of just within seconds of talking.

"Go ahead and testify against him. But think twice about if it's really worth it." Your voice was hushed now, but still just as hard and sharp as it had been the first time you opened her mouth, she could feel your breath onto her cheeks, and she didn't doubt you could hear her quickly beating heart.

And at that, you turned on your heel, your hair basically hitting Cairo in the face on the way there. You left the room, leaving Cairo alone in the haunted bedroom.

The tears were now flowing down her face. Cairo had never cried because of something another individual had said before, let alone cried over something you did in general. But now she was, and it was embarrassing.

You were right.

[fastlikealambo]

The third wife of rhaenyra targaryen.|| rhaenyra targaryen x black!fem reader

In the five years since Queen Rhaenyra The Conqueror, Bringer of New Valyria, triumphed over the usurper without losing a single dragon, the realm is at peace. Having no need of husbands and taking two other wives, Queen Alicent and Queen Mysaria, the dragon queen is in need of a third and final wife to rule the seven kingdoms at her side.

You were just a girl from nowhere, watching the sky fill with dragons at peace, destined to be a scullery maid in a vicious household and the future wife of a ratcatcher until fate and blood decide your future for you. 

History will remember Rhaenyra Targaryen as the great unifier, the second coming of Visenya Targaryen who brought another golden age of dragons out of war. But they will sing songs of you, the smallfolk who ascended to fire and blood as the queen’s favorite, the one they tried to kill so many times, the third wife of rhaenyra targaryen.

Some notes: Aegon, Aemond, and Daemon are dead but their dragons were saved, and Otto Hightower and Criston Cole spontaneously combusted, I don’t know what to tell yall. Luke lived, Jace lived, Helaena lived, Jaehaerys lived, Baela and Rhaena are happy goddammit.  During the short war, Rhaenyra married Mysaria and one year after the dance of dragons ended, she also married Alicent.

Some other notes: This is dark and I drew some inspiration from Cinderella and Hurrem Sultan (the fictional representation of her from the show's magnificent century but nobody I know watches that show). Rhaenyra is in her thirties and reader is in her twenties. 

Trigger warnings for violence, murder, abuse. MINORS DNI

Chapter One.

Chapter Two: All that you are is transformed.

 “I wish to be anointed.”

   “Anointed?” 

The question did not come from Princess Rhaenys but from Queen Rhaenyra herself, who sat forward on the throne. You dared to allow your eyes to meet hers and her gaze, though formidable, was not cold, simply curious. 

  “I’m smallfolk, Your Grace.  I do not carry the rank or protection of a house, everything you see before you is all that I am. To be by your side would be a blessing, not only to me, but to those who serve you, to all smallfolk. Anoint me, Your Grace, and you anoint yourself.”

Where in all the gods did that come from?

Didn’t matter.

    “Shall we continue on, Your Grace?” Rhaenys asked but Queen Rhaenyra lifted her hand and beckoned you closer.

 You forced one foot in front of the other until you were in front of the dragon queen, your face reflecting in the famed sword Dark Sister, the queen rested one hand on its hilt, the other was outstretched to you.

No, you would not go back to mending dresses and waiting for good bread. You would not die today, not tomorrow, nor the next day.

 You bowed before Rhaenyra and her hand found your cheek, a calloused thumb brushed away your tears. 

   “You believe yourself capable to rule next to me? To forsake all that you have known, all that you are, to be mine and only mine, my lady?”

No one had called you their lady before, much less a lady.

   For your mother, for yourself, you took Rhaenyra’s hand that held your face and put it over your heart.

     “All I ask is for my mother to be safe and never know hunger again. With that I’m yours, Your Grace.”

  You released the queen, only then remembering there were other people in the throne room.

Perhaps you had overestimated yourself, you should have been more demure,curtsied better. Perhaps if you told the truth, confessed that you were wearing a dress stolen from the back of a noble lady you murdered, the queen would show you mercy.

There was no going back now.

Queen Rhaenyra stood and you curtsied again, a sudden storm of fear sweeping over you that calmed when Rhaenyra bent forward and put her lips on your forehead, each cheek,and lastly your lips. 

To know the mouth of the dragon queen was to know The Gods themselves.

  “Send the rest away, I have chosen. “ Rhaeyra ordered and took your hand in hers.

    “I believe the gods have brought you to me for a reason and you will be safe here. Come, we will get you settled in and then I will introduce you to my wives.” Queen Rhaenyra said and suddenly you felt dizzy.

Was this really happening?

Had your fate truly been transformed?

As you two took your leave, a crowd entered the throne room, the not chosen ladies clambering to see who was chosen.

 You spotted your former employer’s daughters and watched their eyes widen at the sight of you on the queen’s arm. They pushed and shoved their way to the front, shrieking.

  “Do you know them?” Princess Rhaenys asked, studying you for a moment.

You made complete and total eye contact with both girls before letting the Queen lead you on.

  “No, I do not believe I do.”

Just a little something to tide you over! Hope you liked it!

@asvterias

@nxcxllxsevens

@newcaptainofsquad9

[elsweetheart]

so i know i write abby to be quite the softie (because she is) but girly knows how to be harsh when she needs to be. say you’ve been a fucking brat all day, as she so kindly put it — she’d have you sit on her strap and cockwarm, holding your hips still with bruising strength if you tried to shift on her. don’t overestimate her patience either, she’ll sit there all night until she feels you’ve learnt your lesson. you’d be crying, walls spasming around her as you clutch at her shirt. “abby, please, w’nna cum!” you’d hiccup through your tearful whines. abby would shrug, simply just leaning back against the headboard of the bed resting a hand behind her head causing the muscle in her bicep to strain slightly making you tense harder. “never said you couldn’t.” she dismissed casually.

frustrated, you use all your power to try and bounce on her but she’s quick to grab you by the waist with both hands again, forcing you to stay down. “cant like this it’s — it’s not enough!” you sob, having worked yourself into quite the frenzy and try to grind down on her again causing her to tighten her grip with one hand and grab your jaw with the other. “so make it enough.” she threatens, and actually lets go of your waist knowing her threat was enough to make you comply. she grabs your wrist, bringing your fingers down to your clit where you’re split over her. “you gotta use your big girl brain sometimes, you know.”

you sniff, starting to rub yourself and refraining so hard from bouncing on her strap that you’re trembling. she softens a little as you whimper, rubbing away the goosebumps on your arms. “oh i know.” she sighs heavily. “so hard not to fuck you when you’re being such a good girl. changed up your act real fast huh?” she occupies herself by palming at your tits making your fist curl in the grip you have on her tshirt. “you’re really gonna cum like that, aren’t you? that was almost too easy.”

[stari-hun]

I’d have so much more sympathy for Kakania if she wasn’t a therapist or overestimated herself so badly. Like I get she’s just a girl to the highest degree but also. So , so many of the problems stemmed from the fact that she decided that she wanted to treat mental health issues while not wanting to be certified. The biggest step in any new field or a new study is setting up your own ethos. Hell, it’s HALF of what Windsong’s character story was about. The lack of credibility and her entire degree and study being ripped from under her led to a total inability to be published or taken seriously. Even if Kakania had succeeded in helping Isolde gain control over her mental health (which she couldn’t have without hypnotism or sealing off her arcanum because the possession is a massive factor in her mental decline), what then? Sure people will have come to her and Kakania would get more patients. But she’s also have to deal with countless people coming to her then giving up immediately because they couldn’t fix her immediately or soothe them. The medical community surely wouldn’t give them any hope. They’d look at Isolde’s case or similar ones and simply call it a result of community support at best or a midwife’s cure at worst. They’d tear apart all of the flaws in her results that Kakania would inevitably have from her total lack of experience in a formal environment and completely discredit her. Kakania’s incident in the start of Book 6 showed that sexism is still very much alive, so on top of being an arcanist when even having arcane blood can lead to immediate disapproval from some, she’d have to deal with doubts purely based on her sex.

In any other field or state of life, you’re 100% the victim even if you accidentally encourage a person’s obsession when you don’t want it. Accidentally exasperating someone’s issues when it isn’t your intention and becoming a victim is never the victims fault. Unless you’re a therapist encouraging a patient to be dependent on you. If Kakania was certified the first thing she’d learn is to be aware of dependency issues because it would be something researchers have seen show physically: people getting dependent on substances or other people to alleviate mental struggles. Also the fact that the Freud study, while from- well from Freud, it would’ve had other people interested as well. The question of if the mind is separate from the brain and self has been going on for years. Is a person their brain? Are you the neurons firing in your head? Are you your thoughts and is your sense of self you? Does your body and physical form also count as apart of oneself? The theories Freud posed that the mind can be ill in more than a physical way would undoubtedly peak the interest of research groups. Even if they hadn’t, I’d Kakania had fought to become certified instead, then she could’ve gone on to start one.

[xieni-logs]

All of the Astral express crew members with chaotic child! reader

like imagine all of them having fun on some planet, looking at all the sights but then child reader sees something that piques their interest and lets go of whoever's hand they're holding onto and POOF they're gone.

and then the crew panics and chaos ensues :3

Vacation on Jarilo-VI

note: imagined an actual child!reader. ive never written or read something like this so this was a fun experiment! the ask is really fun to imagine though, i hope i did it justice!!

The Astral Express Crew are visiting Belobog after helping the stellaron crisis but this time, it's purely for a vacation. you weren't allowed to go last time and it really bummed you out so you're real excited about going!!

first stop is visiting Bronya and Seele in the Supreme Guardian's office. March and MC happily run up to greet the two and Dan Heng is introducing them to Welt and Himeko. their eyes are off you for a second and suddenly, Seele spots you trying to climb the ceiling high bookshelves! you're not too far up but enough that no one can grab you down. Welt is trying to convince you to go down, using his powers to slow you in case you fall. Himeko is yelling for you to be careful while apologizing profusely to Bronya and Seele. Dan Heng and MC are at the bottom of the shelf, arms out in an attempt to catch you in case you fall. thankfully, you get down fine. but Welt is grounding you, literally. you're banned from climbing on things for the rest of the trip.

the second stop is Serval's workshop. Himeko is talking to Serval about the machines and all that while March is showing Welt how the little connector puzzle works. you were listening to March before some of the tools caught your eye. suddenly, you're in the back of Serval's workshop playing with Serval's scrap pieces. MC is the first to notice you're gone, alerting Dan Heng and Welt. there's a sort of assumption you've gone far, so que a panicked Welt slamming the door of the workshop open trying to find you. you couldn't have gone far... or maybe you could? Welt's not sure how much to overestimate or underestimate your ability to go missing. 10 minutes later and Himeko finds you happily playing with bits and pieces of metal scraps and a pair of pliers in the back of the workshop.

the third stop is Boulder Town and god, the entire crew is swearing they're going to keep a close eye on you. Dan Heng stops you from climbing in the cart full of geomarrow and Welt is holding your hand almost all the time (although he doesn't notice that you pulled away a couple times, he's a little too focused hearing an explanation of geomarrows from some miners). but then you meet the moles. and you and Hook get along great! and now you want to play with the moles. and Hook is incredible at swaying people into things. you are now free to play with the moles!

Hook really did mean it when she promised that she'd keep an eye on you and that the moles wouldn't leave Boulder Town. she really did mean it! but you were practically begging Hook to take you to Rivet Town as she retold her adventures with MC to fetch Junjun. you only meant to take a peak, a quick one. but then a peak turned into showing you the street of the restaurant where Natasha took kids who were good, and then it turned to a few streets more, until it was a whole town tour. Hook couldn't help herself, you seemed so interested in her stories about the town!

back in Boulder Town, the Astral Express Crew is ready to move onto the last stop and theyre looking for you. March asks Julian who's hesitant to say but eventually fesses that Hook took you to take a peak of Rivet Town. the original Jarilo-IV Trailblaze Team is worried and there's a bit of initial confusion, Himeko and Welt thinking Hook simply took you to the next town over. and Dan Heng has to explain that Rivet Town is infested with fragmentum monsters. poor Julian is bombarded with question like whether or not you and Hook went alone, how long you've been gone, etc...

they do find you and Hook, eventually. it was about an hour long search. it just happened that you and Hook got tired and decided to rest in one spot for a while, who knows how long it’d take the crew to find you guys had you not stop exploring.

the fourth and final destination is the Robot Settlement! the entire crew understands that a LOT can go wrong at the settlement; so many crevices and corners you could run to, robots who may not recognize you aren't a threat or are malfunctioning. Dan Heng explained the crew's concerns to Svarog and Clara who quickly come up with a solution: Svarog isn't letting you out of his sight!

while Clara gives the crew a tour of the Robot Settlement, Svarog accompanied to watch you. he catches you nearly running away to get a closer look at a robot twice, four times for something shiny in the stone walls, and once for something on the ground. he couldnt quite figure out what made that part of the snow covered ground was so much more special than the rest for you, and neither could you, which is why it was so interesting.

Svarog is pretty reliable most the time, he practically raised Clara so everyone trusted him with you. maybe Clara was a lot more mellow as a child compared to you but this 'take care of a child' task difficulty increased by tenfold when it came to you. how Svarog managed to lose you is unknown; all he knew was one moment you were crawling all over him, asking him questions, then telling him you wanted to walk, and the next, you were gone.

if they were panicking before, they were having a full on break down now. Svarog lost you and now couldn't find you within his field of vision! with how reliable Svarog was made to sound, they feared the worst. maybe you fell down the cliff, what if a robot malfunctioned and fought you? Svarog tried calculating how far you could've gotten and how likely it was for you to be found but no one could quite decide on when they last saw you.

a wave of relief washes over them when they find you asking a robot questions. honestly, the entire crew feared you'd died or something, though no one wanted to say it. unaware of this feeling, you're caught off guard as March, Himeko, then the rest of the astral express crew rushed over to give you a tight hug. Himeko scolded you a bit for making the crew worry but she was more happy you were fine than anything.

the crew may find it stress inducing and troublesome when you disappear, but they wouldn't trade you for anything in the world!

[ravenkinnie]

how aware do you think silco was of the fact that jinx would probably end up killing him? like surely he couldn’t spend that long enabling her and witnessing all the collateral damage she caused without thinking hmm maybe this will backfire directly upon me someday. was he just heavily in denial or did he wildly overestimate his ability to manage her indefinitely or did he just love her enough that by the time he realized she’d kill him it was too late to do anything about it or what

I think it's something that would exist in the back of your mind simply due to knowing jinx. but also I'm of opinion that the control and emotional manipulation he extended over jinx was partially because he's crazy and emotionally that dynamic made sense to him but it was also deliberate. the thing is if you want a lethal weapon that considers herself beyond poweful you also want that weapon to know it can't turn against you and relying on him emotionally ensures that she wouldn't because she would hurt herself in the process. silco is kind of a narcissist so I assume he didn't think it would actually fail and even now if you asked his ghost he would probably blame vi for it but I do think when she did shoot it didn't even feel like a betrayal because of course it ended like this, it was always a possibility. also if you want someone to kill you it would be the only person you consider your equal yk

[foxymoxynoona]

After the Applause (Ch. 7)

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

By Monday Sunnie was almost completely back to her normal exuberant self, but her round-the-clock caretaker Appa had simply ushered the illness from daughter to dad. He knew it for sure when walking her to school left him red-faced, breathless, and shivering. There was no use denying it, no choice except to call Hoseok and other staff to see who could cover his classes for at least today and tomorrow. The last thing he wanted to do was pass this onto his students, especially not with the recital rushing closer.

Besides, he could work on choreography for Taejoon’s idol group from home –that was a gig he didn’t want to pass off. He could really use the additional income this month. Rent was going up in two months and he’d been avoiding thinking about it because obviously he couldn’t upset their lives and move them somewhere cheaper. This was their home. It had been Subin’s home. He wouldn’t know where to hallucinate her in a new home where she’d never been before, as he did the whole afternoon he spent curled up on the couch, sweating through his fever. 

Turned out he didn’t even have the energy to make himself tea, certainly not to choreograph a routine. Once again, Jimin had vastly overestimated himself.

At the last minute he realized he was not sure he could make the walk to get Sun-young. Shit! It was a short list of friends he felt comfortable asking for a favor like that: Hoseok was already covering his classes, Jungkook wasn’t answering his phone, but Taehyung did, on the second ring, like he’d been waiting for a call from Jimin. He was happy to get her but he had promised to go with Seokjin for something and could he just take Sun-young along with him for that? It sounded to Jimin like he’d said to greet the Muppets for the disco party but that was probably not right. The fever made everything fuzzy right now.

But whatever, Taehyung and Seokjin would never take her anywhere unsafe, so that was perfect. He called Sun-young’s school to have them give Sunnie the message Uncle Tae would pick her up and then collapsed on the couch and stopped thinking about anything. The fever was miserably uncomfortable. He didn’t have any adult medicine for it in the house; he prided himself on not getting sick often but damn it would have been welcome right now. Maye anti-nausea too, his stomach cramped and complained even though he wasn’t hungry.

The whole afternoon passed in a blink. He didn’t realize he’d even fallen asleep and suddenly Sun-young’s feet were pounding down the hallway. She knew the code and let herself in, Taehyung and Seokjin right on her heels.

Seokjin called from the hall, “No offense, Jimin, but I’m keeping my distance. I can’t get a restaurant of people sick!”

“I could use a few days off work,” Taehyung joked. “Lay one on me.”

Jimin only grunted at him and eased himself up to a sitting position. Sun-young grimaced.

“You’re really sick, Appa.”

“Wonder how that happened,” Taehyung teased and nudged Sun-young. But she looked genuinely upset, and that last thing Jimin wanted was for her to feel guilty. It was part of being a dad. He didn’t want her to hide that she was sick next time.

“It’s a testament to how close we are together,” Jimin insisted, the words a croak from his throat. “I wouldn’t have it any other way. Thanks for keeping her this afternoon, Tae. Thanks, Jin.” He pushed up from the couch and did his best not to look wobbly. “OK, Sunnie, let’s figure out some dinner.”

“You sure you don’t want me to stick around and help?” Taehyung pressed.

“Nah, it’s fine, I’m good, just groggy because I’m waking up.”

“Ok… but hey man, call me if you need anything, ok? You know my schedule is flexible, I’m happy to help.”

Jimin thanked them both again and flinched when the door slammed shut behind them. The offers were sincere, he knew that, just like he rationally knew his friends did not mind covering his classes or helping him with his child. He had to believe that, because he knew he wouldn’t begrudge them the help. He loved to be helpful. But accepting help when he’d had to lean on them so much was hard. He didn’t feel like it was nearly balanced.

Belatedly he realized he should have asked Taehyung if he knew what was going on between Hanbyul and Jungkook. Taehyung was nosy, he probably knew exactly how long they’d been dating and how serious it was and where they met and the first time they kissed and everything.

Maybe it was better he hadn’t asked though. He didn’t know that he was in a good headspace right now to find out they’d been dating for months now and he was just dumb as a rock oblivious. Why wouldn’t Jungkook have told him? And honestly, wasn’t it right that Jungkook should have asked him first if he had feelings for Hanbyul before making his move? It was the right thing to do as friends.

“Appa are you ok?” Sunnie asked as he shuffled to the kitchen. 

He waved his hand at her. “Yeah yeah, I’m good.”

But she planted herself in front of him and reached up to feel his sweaty forehead.

“You’re really sick, Appa. I know what it was like. Go lay down and I can make my own dinner.”

“You’re nine.”

“So what? I can make some things! Are you hungry? I can make something for you too.”

“I’m not hungry,” he admitted. He hesitated. If he insisted on cooking for her, was this just another way in which he was failing to recognize that she was growing up and gaining independence? Or was this leaning on his daughter in an unhealthy way, expecting her to be another adult in the house?

“We have gimbap, I can eat that. Go sleep. I’ll do my homework after I eat.”

“Ok…” He hesitated. This felt like a parenting failure. “Just get me if you need anything… I’ll just be in my room. You won’t be bothering me.”

Sun-young gave him a serious, decisive node and then pointed her finger towards his bedroom. He’d been summarily dismissed. It made him laugh, which turned into an achy coughing fit, so he did what she said and went to lie down.

Time passed unmeasured, but eventually Jimin rose from his deep sleep to the sounds of murmuring female voices and clinking cookware. For a brief moment, he found himself lost in time to years ago, when his wife might be in the kitchen cooking dinner. Especially after Sun-young was born, they’d alternated day-night shifts since their newborn daughter demanded attention round the clock; she’d been a terrible sleeper. He’d usually taken the night shift because he liked it anyway. 

Just as quickly he landed back in the present time. He tried to push quickly and clumsily from the bed to find out who the hell was in his apartment with his daughter, when he heard a laugh that answered for him.

Hanbyul was here.

He slowed his step and glanced at himself in the mirror over his dresser. He looked fucked up. There was only so much he could do about it though, the sweaty pink shine wasn’t going away until the cold did. He brushed his fingers through his hair, trying to look devilishly disheveled. He was not sure that it worked. He changed his clothes quickly so at least he wouldn’t smell like stale sweat.

He pulled on his best smile as he leaned against the counter separating kitchen from dining and living room. Sun-young stood on a chair and peered through the lid of a deep pot. Hanbyul stood at the counter beside her with her loose sweater sleeves rolled up past her elbows, knife making quick work of an onion. Her hair was pulled up into a spiky high bun, a few wispy strands escaping to frame her face. Her eyes were red from the onions when she glanced up at Jimin. And smiled.

“Appa! How do you feel?” Sun-young asked very seriously again, her laughter from a moment ago deftly suppressed.

“I’m..” He wanted to say good but he didn’t want Hanbyul to take his appearance as normal. “I’ve been better,” he admitted. “But better since this morning… I think…” The scent of the onions tickled his nose and he turned quickly away to sneeze into his elbow. Suddenly Hudu leapt down from the couch and vaulted over to Jimin, jumping up against his legs, like he’d been sleeping too deeply to notice Jimin was even there. 

“We’re making samgyetang,” Hanbyul assured him, as if he couldn’t have figured that out by the gingery smell of the broth. His nose was too stuffy to have caught it from the bedroom, but when Hanbyul lifted the lid on the pot so she and Sun-young could look inside, just enough of it managed to reach his sinuses for him to groan. He had no appetite but for that, he could develop one.

Hanbyul’s raised eyebrows made embarrassment rush through him.

“Oh, uh, it smells good. My nose is all f– messed up, but I could smell that– why are you here?” His voice cracked on the last note after croaking out the rest of it. Quickly he added, “You’re always welcome but we’re sick! I don’t want to get you sick too.”

Hanbyul shared a smile with Sun-young, as if they’d predicted and discussed this response. Jimin tried to crouch to pet Hudu, still spinning around his legs, but his body was too achy. He tried to get Hudu to jump up into his arms, but the dog wouldn’t. A stalemate in which neither of them was happy.

“I appreciate your concern but I think I’ll be all right. I have such a strong immune system, I rarely get sick. Don’t worry about me.”

“I asked her to come help me make soup for you,” Sun-young added.

“I see but– it’s very thoughtful but–” He spun quickly away to deliver a coughing fit into his elbow. Hudu was worried enough to scratch at his shin.

It meant he didn’t see Hanbyul come around from the kitchen until she touched his arm and held out a mug of steaming yuzu jelly tea.

“Please go rest more. Sun-young and I are just fine here.”

“She taught me how to mince garlic!”

“With a knife?!” Jimin cried, barely more than a wheeze of words.

Hanbyul tutted at him –tutted– “She’s old enough to learn how to safely cook things! I was much younger and still have all my fingers. Now back to bed, and make sure to drink that tea.”

She was so firm about it, he found his legs obeying. He stopped just through the door though and looked back. Hanbyul slid back around the counter and looked at whatever Sun-young was showing her on the counter. He knew that hopeful smile of Sunnie’s, that desperate need for acknowledgement. She beamed at Hanbyul’s praise for whatever it was. Together they lifted the lid and slid things in, four hands working together, and put the lid back on. The pot belched at them though, knocking the top askew. Both girls erupted with giggles as Hanbyul stirred and replaced the lid. Hudu sat in the middle of the rooms, as if he needed to see everyone at once. He watched Jimin and something in his eye made it look like he was about to bark and tattle on Jimin for not being in bed yet.

She shouldn’t be here. She didn’t need to be here. It  was asking too much, for her to come into a sick apartment and make soup for him. Sunnie had done the asking and Hanbyul had come and he owed her so much.

Hudu barked.

“Go to bed, Park Jimin!” Hanbyul called, and Sunnie giggled and pointed, chanting, “Go go! We’ll get you when it’s ready!” 

“Traitor,” Jimin mumbled to Hudu. Hudu stretched out to nap, conscience clear.

He lay in bed, as ordered. He sat up to sip the tea until only the dredges were left. He lay back down and listened to the crescendo of giggles across the apartment. They wove through his dozy dreams, swaddling him, rocking him in the rhythm of their conversation. He dreamed of seashell wind chimes on the balcony of a beachside bungalow; he dreamed of a crackling fireplace in front of three mugs of hot cocoa; he dreamed of a cool breeze caressing his skin with whispers: dance on, dance on.

He awoke to silence. The window was black with night, only by the light from the hallway could he find his phone in the sheets: 8:30. Time to get Hanbyul ready for bed. His body ached as he pushed himself up from the sweaty embrace of his bed. He felt like garbage, but slightly warmed over garbage, thanks to his nap-companion Hudu, who had jumped up into bed with him at some point. Garbage that could at least get his daughter’s school things ready for tomorrow, see her to bed, shower, and then collapse again. Maybe eat some soup, if there was any left. 

He forgot to check his hair and face as he stumbled into the hall. Two figures sitting at the end of it made him do a double take. It wasn’t the ghost of Subin, though, and he wasn’t confused by a memory this time, only confused to see them there: Sun-young and Hanbyul kneeling in front of the shrine they kept for Subin by the narrow window she had always joked was for growing a single flower in. So they did grow a single flower in it, though Jimin often forgot to water it so it tended to be more dead than alive.

He paused as Sun-young’s voice carried, “Sometimes I don’t remember very much about her.”

Hanbyul made a sympathetic humming noise.

“I was only maybe six years old when she died? I just remember suddenly she lived in the hospital and Appa took me there to visit her and I didn’t like being there because it smelled bad and everyone was sad a lot.”

“It’s ok not to remember everything,” Hanbyul said gently. “You were very little and sometimes remembering someone we’ve lost can hurt a lot, I think, so our minds… hm, maybe they wrap a blanket around the memory to keep it safe for another time when it won’t hurt so much.”

“Maybe that’s why Appa doesn’t talk about her very much,” Sun-young said and Jimin felt a knife in his ribs. “It makes him really sad.” Jimin felt like they did talk about her a lot. Wasn’t Subin in almost everything they said and did? But less so lately, and that was… hard.

“I can’t imagine how hard it is to lose someone you love that much. You both are very strong. I’m glad you have each other.”

He knew he shouldn’t keep listening to this and yet he couldn't tear himself away. Was it really so bad to eavesdrop? He decided Sun-young was right; despite the shrine, they did not talk about Subin very often. He always feared speaking of her would only remind Sunnie of what she lost, what she didn’t have. It sure did for Jimin.

“I remember her hair was really soft and I would wrap it around my fingers when we read books together,” Sun-young said. “I just learned to read when she got sick and I read books to her in the hospital. She liked Hello Banana Moon and Cloud Bread. Do you know those books?”

“I don’t.”

“I think I still have them. I’ll let you borrow them so you can read them. They're really good but I haven’t read them in a long time. Maybe we can read them together.”

“I’d like that a lot,” Hanbyul said and Jimin could feel her smile even though he saw only the back of her head. The girls sat so close together, Subin’s smiling face beaming down at them from the shrine. He knew where those two books were: tucked into the cupboard beneath the candles and figurines and Subin’s photos. He’d tucked them there when she died because it was too much to read the words to Sun-young that ought to be in Subin’s voice. 

But Sun-young wanted to share those stories her mother had taught her to read with Hanbyul.

The emotion was difficult to breathe around, a pair of fingers pinching the bridge of his nose, a rising tide blocking his throat. 

“I don’t remember much,” Hanbyul said. “I didn’t know your eomma very well but I would see her in the hall or the mail room. She was always very polite and thoughtful. She would hold the door open if my arms were full. If someone left trash out, she would take on the task of cleaning it up, even though it wasn’t hers. One year there was ice on the stairs and our neighbor Ma Gurim who is high in years nearly slipped. Your mother called the building manager and wouldn’t stop calling until they came out to take care of the ice.”

Sun-young giggled and said, “Appa says I have her stubbornness.”

“Her resilience, I think it is. Her brightness. She seemed like she could do anything, just like you.”

“It’s not very fair that she died.”

“No, Sun-young. It’s really, really not fair.”

Sun-young let out a heavy sigh and rested her head against Hanbyul’s shoulder. If it made Hanbyul uncomfortable, Jimin couldn’t tell from her body language. After a moment she wrapped her arm around the girl’s shoulder and rubbed her arm.

Jimin didn’t want to disturb them. He felt like he would be. Anyway, he didn’t know what to say. He couldn’t have said anything better than Hanbyul had and her words lingered with him as he tiptoed away to the kitchen. 

It was too much to ask of a woman, wasn’t it? To come into a house that had lost one and take over being a partner and a mother. Not that it mattered anyway because Hanbyul was seeing Jungkook now but… well, it would have been too much to ask of her and that’s why it was for the best. Probably she felt incredibly awkward talking to Sun-young about her dead mother because it was an uncomfortable topic and while obviously she had navigated it beautifully, it was too much to ask. 

The kitchen had been cleaned so thoroughly there was no evidence of cooking. He opened the fridge with a start in his heart that maybe they had eaten all the soup and left none for him.

“What are you doing?” Hanbyul demanded behind him. “Shoo, get out of my kitchen! Go sit down.”

“It’s my kitchen,” he glowered, and playfully demanded, “Where’s my soup?”

She squeezed behind him and bodied him away to open the oven door where a stone bowl of the soup rested, still warm. The scent of it carried such a strong sense of strength and health and rest that it nearly brought tears to his eyes. That’s it, that’s the only reason his eyes were misty.

“I’ll carry it for you, go sit.”

“It’s time for Sun-young to get ready for–”

“I know, Appa, I’m already in my pajamas. I just need to brush my teeth,” Sun-young glowered just like him, arms crossed at his doubt. “I’ll make you tea and then go right to bed.”

“We have to get your backpack ready–”

“We did that,” Hanbyul assured him. “She wants to eat school lunch tomorrow or I said I would pack her one.”

“Unnie even ironed my uniform,” Sun-young added.

Hanbyul looked embarrassed by that and clarified, “With you both sick lately they just sat in the laundry basket for too long. Sunnie told me about her fundraiser and demonstrations.”

“Appa, can unnie help us make the rice cakes? We can teach her how to make them really nice. I know Appa isn’t a good cook but he really knows how to make the best rice cakes.”

Jimin felt like he was wrapped up in a whirlwind between them as he dove into the soup Hanbyul placed before him. They’d carried on all evening without him, and Hanbyul even had Sun-young ready for the day tomorrow. He didn’t have to worry about a thing.

“I can walk Sunnie to school too, if that’s helpful,” Hanbyul offered. 

Jimin shook his head and argued, “It’s not the direction of your office.”

“You know that?” Hanbyul asked, surprised. 

“I see the direction you walk, it’s not mysterious.”

She grinned and insisted, “It’s not too far out of the way though. I’ll just make my coffee at home before I go instead of stopping by the cafe. It’s better for my wallet anyway.”

“I’m sure I’ll be better by the morning.”

Sun-young put her hands on her hips and said to Habyul, “I think both my parents are stubborn.”

“There was no other way you could be,” Hanbyul nodded and it made Sun-young giggle. “It’s a good thing.”

“Is it?” Jimin teased.

“I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear that and go brush my teeth,” Sunnie said and stuck her tongue out at him. 

How strange to feel like a cared-for guest in his own home. Hudu had moved to the living room since Jimin left the bed and stretched out in a new nap across Jimin’s slippers, several of his toys strewn across the rug. The TV was off but low music played through the speakers.

“I’ll turn that off,” Hanbyul realized, heading for it. “Sunnie was trying to teach me to dance.”

“You seemed to do fine at the club.”

Immediately she covered her face and sighed, “Let’s never talk about that again.”

“No problem,” Jimin said and meant it. He’d like if they could never talk about him going to check on her the next morning and Jungkook opening the door as well.

While he slurped the soup and Hanbyul fiddled with the CD player and Sun-young sang loudly to herself in the bathroom as the water ran and Hudu decided to take a break from napping and work the squeaker out of his toy, Jimin got a very foreign feeling: wholeness. He felt like he was home. He was home, but he felt like it quite suddenly, like he rarely had done since the very first day he’d come home while Subin remained in hospital.

Sun-young threw her arms around his shoulders and kissed his cheek and bid him goodnight. Hanbyul followed her to say goodnight and turn the light off and for a moment Jimin almost told them where the storybooks were, but couldn’t quite bring himself to it. It felt dangerous to, like if he offered her one more step further into their lives, he’d never be able to let her go. 

Could she really co-exist with the memory of Subin? Was Sun-young really ok with that?

How could it seem so natural to watch her turn the bathroom light off and take Sunnie a glass of water and then scoop Hudu up for a snuggle. She ought to collapse onto the couch in exhaustion after an evening of parenting. And Jimin would collapse next to her, and drag her into his lap so they could stretch out and find something worthwhile to watch on the TV. She’d fall asleep there and he’d wake her gently later to move to–

Shit, he had to stop thinking like this. He had to. It was becoming too tragic to pine for his neighbor too late. He’d fucked up and only his fever-riddled brain was willing to admit how badly. Very badly. As she carried Hudu with her to sit in the chair next to him, Jimin had the unfortunate understanding that he might be very much in love with Hanbyul and been trying to hide it from himself.

I never know what I’m doing but you make me feel like I can figure it out. I think you belong here. Why don’t you just stay?

“I’m sorry if I massively overstepped tonight,” she said, completely at odds with his internal tragedy. 

“No. No, of course not. You can’t overstep but you didn’t have to do all this–” He broke off to cough into his elbow –away from her. If he got her sick, he’d never get over the guilt.

“I’ve told you before, it’s not a big deal. I love spending time with Sun-young and I’m glad you were able to get some rest. I’m serious about walking her to school in the morning too, unless you’d rather have one of your other friends.”

“I’m sorry if she made you uncomfortable talking about… Subin.”

Hanbyul’s sincere confusion was so endearing that he felt a twinge of guilt, saying Subin’s name just as he thought damn, Hanbyul really is pretty, isn’t she? It’s crazy she never went into acting or modeling.

“Why would that make me uncomfortable?” Hanbyul asked. “I’m flattered she felt like telling me about her mother. She’s a part of you and Sun-young forever. It’s unfair she can’t be here to take care of you while you’re sick and take care of Sun-young, but I hope I honored her by stepping in for an evening.”

Jimin nodded, briefly without words. 

Hanbyul gently touched the back of his hand and added, “I’m truly sorry for your loss, Jimin. I don’t know if I ever said that.”

“You did.”

“Well, good. And please don’t think you or Sun-young are ever a burden when you need help. No one is meant to do everything alone and–” She broke off as he suddenly flipped his hand, catching her palms against his. “--and I’m really happy to be here,” she said, barely a murmur as she stared at their hands. Jimin too, unsure how that had happened. It had been impulsive. It was the wrong move.

He drew in a deep, ragged breath and she pulled her hand away. He shouldn’t have. She was dating his friend. He couldn’t say he regretted it. He should have wound their fingers together, kept her there. 

But what would he say? I care about you more. Quit Jungkook and be with me. I’m sorry I was slow but it’s scary, you see? I didn’t think I could do this again…

He pushed back from the table and she leapt up as Hudu jumped down from her lap. She reached for the dishes but Jimin shooed her away.

“I can manage them.”

The fact she didn’t argue seemed telling. She gathered Hudu’s things into her bag and slid her phone into her pocket and Jimin felt an absolute dread that she was leaving. He knew he’d overstepped with the touch. She had to think so, because it had felt insanely intimate to him, just that moment of their palms touching. Her cheeks flushed and he feared it was with anger.

He started to say he was sorry, but Hanbyul spoke over him with a smile that seemed sincere, “I’ll come by to get Sun-young at 7:30. Don’t argue about it, please. I told her I would so it’s very important to me that I keep my word.”

“All right then. Thank you. Goodnight, Hudu,” he said, scratching the dog’s head. “Goodnight, Hanbyul.”

“Goodnight.”

It felt awkward. He felt it. He’d made her feel awkward, and after all she’d done for him. But he didn’t know what to say to fix it, and he already felt like shit anyway, so this one time he kept his mouth shut and just locked the door behind her.

The apartment felt empty with her gone, just him and sleeping Sun-young left, like the movie had ended and there just credits rolling. There wasn’t even music playing anymore.

Jimin knew he ought to get back to his apartment quickly. It was bad enough he’d had to call in another favor, but it was only fair he cover Hoseok’s classes now that he was sick, and Sun-young had science club, and sometimes things just seemed impossible for a single parent.

But walking past the corner florist made him pause. And think. And think. He was a thinker, a planner, he shouldn’t do things impulsively because then things could go wrong and you weren’t prepared.

But things went wrong even if you carefully planned. Time was unknown and unsympathetic and always running out.

The apartment had just felt so empty without her in it, the chair she’d sat in pulled out as if still waiting for her to take her seat again. He felt like he was waiting for Hanbyul to get home from work. One evening wasn’t enough.  

Was it worth the risk of losing a friendship over? Two friendships?

Park Jimin did something he never did: he let impulse take over.

He bought the flowers, a big pretty bouquet of purple and pink and white because they looked like stars and that was her name. Hanyul: Big Star.

He ignored the mailroom for now, because he was on a mission. He was going to shoot his shot. If it caused a rift with Jungkook… hopefully it could be mended. Probably it would cause only a rift between himself and Hanbyul because she’d be gracious about his unwelcome feelings and then he would lose something that was devastating him to have so little of anyway.

“Hold the elevator!” Jungkook called and dove inside.

For a moment they looked at each other, and then Jungkook’s face broke into a wide grin and he asked, “Who are the flowers for?”

“Sunnie.”

“Ah. Right.” 

They’d forgotten to push the button, so Jungkook did.

“You here to see Hanbyul?” Jimin asked, wishing it wasn’t true.

“Yeah.”

“Ah.” Silence as the elevator shimmied to life. “So uh… that. How did that happen? Is it serious?”

“Is what serious?”

Leave it to Jungkook to make Jimin spell it out, the ass: “You and Hanbyul.”

“We’ve got a real connection. Why do you ask? You in love with her or something?”

Thank fuck for his careful control of his face. 

Jimin gave him a playful grin and assured him, “No, no, I’m just looking out for her. I’m just asking if you’re serious about her.”

“You should fight me for her,” Jungkook grinned back.

Jimin’s expression twitched as he said, “I’m not… I’m not fighting you for her.” Gone was his foolish plan to sweep her out from under Jungkook.

Fuck, what an awful choice of words.

“Well not physically, I’d beat your ass,” Jungkook laughed. “I mean confessionally.”

“What the fuck does that mean?”

“Are you at least going to give her a choice? I mean, I’m pretty serious competition, it’d be pretty hard for anyone to– but hey, maybe it’s your lucky day,” Jungkook said and slapped him on the shoulder. 

“A choice… between us?” Jimin’s heart leapt into his throat with hope. Probably Jungkook was just fucking with him, but if he was actual casual enough to give Hanbyul a no-strings choice… well, would she really choose the single dad over hot young bachelor Jungkook… but… but maybe Sunnie could help him make a powerpoint and she’d find it charming…

Jungkook sighed, “You don’t like that idea? That sucks. Listen, don’t break her heart or anything, ok? She’s a really good friend of mine and–”

“No, stop, that’s what I was going to say!” Jimin forced a laugh, stepping off the elevator after him. “I just wanted to say I’m happy for you and that I–”

“Well I’m not dating her but maybe you should before someone else does, if you’re so bothered by it.”

Before Jimin could fathom a response, Jungkook pushed the buzzer at Hanbyul’s door.

“What, what do you mean you’re not–”

The door dragged open to reveal Hanbyul –in shortie shorts and a t shirt with a faded Minnie Mouse on it and stripey flower socks. Her expression shifted at once from neutral to surprise as she stared at Jimin.

Jungkook plucked a phone charger from her hand.

“Hey Hanbyul, thanks, Jimin’s got something to say to you, bye.”

He promptly turned and walked back towards the elevator.

**

“Uh…”

It took Hanbyul half a minute longer than it should have to realize Jungkook had retrieved his abandoned phone charger and departed. Her attention remained leveled at Jimin’s face in an attempt to not die of embarrassment: she’d just woken up from a gloriously braless and pantsless nap to a message from Jungkook saying by process of elimination he thought he’d left his phone charger at her place and was on his way over. Her offer to leave it at Jimin’s was too late; he never responded and she had time to do nothing but drag on shorts before the buzzer at her door revealed Jungkook. 

And Jimin.

He looked so much healthier after his illness –thanks in part, she hoped, to the soup. He looked even better since she’d seen him, when she picked up Sun-young and walked her to school before peeling off to haul ass to work. 

And then Hanbyul spent the next two days avoiding the Parks because she wanted it too much. It brought her too much happiness to be over there, doing simple domestic things with them like that. It was torture not to kiss Jimin’s flushed forehead and brush his hair back and really take care of him. It was unkind to herself and possibly to Sun-young to let herself get so close to the little girl who did not deserve to lose anyone else from her life.

The recruiter had contacted her via email and wanted to schedule an official interview; he promised to call her soon. Hanbyul had done a freaking out dance around the apartment. Then whipped her bra off and fallen into bed for a stress nap.

And now Jimin was standing at her door, seeing her in this disheveled space, holding out a bouquet of beautiful purple flowers. She did not understand and only took them because he seemed to want her to hold them for him.

“They’re for you,” he explained, as if she was an idiot (she was.) “To thank you.”

“Jimin, I told you, you have to stop thanking me. I’m going to start taking it as an insult.”

“Wha?”

“You didn’t have to get me flowers. But they’re beautiful, so thank you.” She loved how gracious that sounded, as if she could be cool about getting flowers, as if it happened all the time (it didn’t.)

“They’re stars, like your name. I don’t know what they’re actually called,” he admitted, laughing at himself.

“Thank you, I’ll put them in water right away.” She stepped into the apartment, expecting that was goodbye, but Hudu foiled her plan, darting into Jimin’s arms –or maybe Jimin had already wedged his body in to follow her through. That brat (Hudu, but also maybe Jimin.) 

“One second!” she called over her shoulder and disappeared into her bedroom to frantically drag on a sweatshirt. It was going to be weird if she completely changed, wouldn’t it? But she was so unkempt. Would it be weird to put on pants? 

She was taking too long. She hurried back to find Jimin going through her cabinets, looking for a vase. The only one was a heavy crystal thing she had borrowed from her mother a year ago because her mother had been grievously disappointed the visit before that Hanbyul didn’t have flowers on her table.

“Perfect, right Hudu?” He tossed a smile down to the pup, and then over his shoulder at her, and she felt simultaneously like a queen and a bug. He looked like that, smiling at her when she looked like this. It didn’t make her feel better that he’d recently looked sick. He had been adorable.

“I’m glad you’re feeling better,” she said.

“How are you? Not coming down with anything?”

Actually she’d had a slight headache all day and her throat felt scratchy that morning, but she wasn’t going to tell him that and make him feel guilty for accepting the help. It was probably nothing. A sudden onset of spring allergies or something.

“I’m good.”

She joined him at the counter but let him do the work of untying the bouquet, snipping the stems with her kitchen scissors and arranging them artfully in the vase.

“Wow, you’re really good at that.”

“I learned some arranging tricks when I was younger because it was cheaper to buy bulk flowers and make our own arrangements for performers than buying the bouquets.”

Her phone rang –a godawful thing because she never had the ringer on and didn’t even know what it was set to– and she gasped as she reached for it, but it was only her sister so she sent it to voicemail. She couldn’t risk missing this call!

“Ouch,” Jimin laughed. “Who deserved that?”

“My sister… I’ll call her back later.”

“Oh I don’t mean to stop you–”

“No, she’s calling to ask about–” Hanbyul broke off. Was this the sort of premature news one gave a neighbor-acquaintance-friend? “I might curse it,” she admitted.

Jimin raised an eyebrow but kept his gaze on the flowers he futzed with as he asked carefully, “Curse what? Not your um, relationship with Jungkook I hope?”

“I have a job interview– uh, wait, what relationship with Jungkook–?”

“A job interview! A new job? Or the promotion at your current place?”

“I don’t have a relationship with Jungkook,” she said. “A friendship, but that’s all.”

Jimin nodded and smiled. He pushed the vase towards the center of her counter and assured her, “It’s none of my business.”

“Why, did he tell you something else?”

“No, he said the same,” Jimin shrugged. 

“When we went out clubbing he had too much to drink and crashed here. Apparently he takes a phone charger with him when he goes clubbing in case he goes home with someone.” Hanbyul shook her head. She couldn’t imagine leading that kind of life. He had only laughed at her advice: maybe stop having sex the same day you meet a woman if you want deep and lasting romance so badly! Then he’d asked how deep and lasting romance with Jimin was going and she had threatened to block him. 

“That he does.”

“You met someone that night too,” Hanbyul recalled –in painstaking detail. She tried to be light as she teased, “Any exciting dating plans? Someone you met on the app?” She had on the exact same expression she knew she wore when trying to make bad news sound like good news at work to the higher ups.

He hissed through his teeth and admitted, “I haven’t even finished setting up my profile. And if you’re teasing me about who I think you are, she’s on the funding board for a scholarship group my dance school works with so I had to play nice. I didn’t realize you’d sneak away on me.”

“I didn’t sneak.”

“Hm.”

“I was way too drunk to be sneaking,” she admitted. “I don’t go out much like that.”

“Me neither.”

“It was fun though.”

“Would have been more fun if we’d actually gotten to dance,” Jimin said. Hanbyul could have sworn there was a note of longing to his voice.

“You don’t want to dance with me,” she assured him. “I can’t dance at all.”

“That’s ok.”

“No, I mean it. Your daughter suggested maybe I’d do better at yoga and asked if I understand what the beat of the music is.”

Jimin laughed and covered his eyes, “Oops. She’s a sharp-shooter sometimes… But no one is a lost cause. I saw you dancing at club and you did fine. Anyone can learn with a little help, I believe it.”

What were they talking about it again?

“Maybe next time. If there is a next time.”

“I hope there’s a next time,” Jimin said. He looked to the side in thought, then shook his head and admitted, “Honestly I was kicking myself. I don’t know why I hadn’t already introduced my friends to you. Of course you get along with all of them.”

“Why would you introduce your neighbor?” she laughed. Try to keep it light. This conversation felt strange for a reason she couldn’t quite put her thumb on. It felt serious, like an air of goodbye had settled around them in a haze. 

She hadn’t even done the interview yet!

“You’re not just my neighbor,” Jimin corrected. “Ma Gurim is just my neighbor. You’re at least a close friend.”

“At least,” she immediately repeated. 

He looked surprised by his own word choice, panicked almost, and clarified, “Not just anyone will come over and take care of me and my daughter when I’m sick.”

“Get over yourself, it’s not an inconvenience,” she teased to cover the way her heart fluttered high in her chest. At least a close friend.

“Get over myself,” he repeated with a laugh. “It’s true, I have an ego sometimes.” He ran his fingers through those blond locks. 

Her phone rang. What timing! She wanted to follow that train of thought: what did he mean by ego? Why was he smiling like that? He wasn’t flirting with her, was he? He must still be sick.

But interview terror temporarily outweighed Jimin confusion, and she answered her phone before it could ring a third time. Jimin’s eyes got big and he shirked his shoulders as if he shared her excitement and didn’t leave.

The recruiter was straight-forward but polite on the phone. There was interest in her resume and application letter. They would like to meet her for an afternoon of interviews. There would be several rounds for this more senior position, she must understand the selection process was thorough to ensure a good fit, which date from a list of available would work for her? Did she have any professional references she could provide for contact? 

Hanbyul flew around the kitchen but Jimin was the one to find the pen and paper for her. She rattled off two former colleagues she had already messaged about acting as references. She could make the date work –though it worried her, taking time off from her current job to interview, like they would know she was up to something and fire her, and then she might not get the new job, and have no job.

By the time she hung up, her heart was racing as if she’d been interviewed already. She hoped the man couldn’t tell over the phone.

“A new job,” Jimin said. “That’s… exciting.”

“It might be,” she agreed. “If I get it.”

“They’d be fucking crazy to snooze on you. Where is it? You didn’t say…”

“Oh, well the company has several branches. One is here but there’s also one near my parents, in the town I grew up in. My sister’s about to have her baby, you know, and–”

“Right, yes, I understand.” He was nodding a lot.

“So now I have an interview,” she breathed out.

“It can be hard to live away from family,” he continued. “I understand why you’d want to move back near them.”

Yes, there were plenty of reasons to go. She had told the recruiter her childhood hometown was her branch preference. It should be her branch preference. Her parents were getting up in years and she would want to know her sister’s baby. She’d set out for Seoul years ago and what did she really have to show for it? Hudu was not an anchor.

“What made you stay here instead of moving back to be near your parents?” she asked.

“Ah, it was a hard choice,” he admitted. “They wanted me to. Sometimes I’ve wondered if it was the right choice. But I have family here too, so does Sunnie. Subin’s parents are here and I didn’t want her to lose that connection with her mother’s family. But also Taehyung and Jungkook and Hoseok, Yoongi, everyone, they’re here. They’re my family too. We have a home, I have my dance school, Sunnie loves her school.”

“That all makes sense.”

“For a long time I wondered if I just stayed here because it’s where I was before… but this is my life. Everything, almost everyone I care about is here.”

Hanbyul was the one nodding a lot now. She looked at the pretty flowers Jimin had brought her, just to say thanks for doing a thing she wanted to do all the time. She knew with absolute clarity that she couldn’t go into a job interview without knowing once and for all whether she too had a family anchoring her here. For a moment the image of her with him felt so real she could reach out and touch it. She needed to know if the illusion would dissolve at the brush of her fingertips. 

It was crazy to wonder. It was wistful thinking. She was crazy fucking delusional.

But she had to know for sure and if there was nothing, if she was completely imagining the flirting, if he just wasn’t ready or wasn’t interested in welcoming her specifically into his life well… well that was good to know. 

“I don’t have a relationship with Jungkook,” she said, feeling like someone else was speaking the words. “But um, I did date Namjoon for a little bit.”

Jimin’s brow pinched in confusion as he repeated, “Namjoon? You already know Namjoon? When did you date–”

“Recently,” she admitted.

Jimin’s eyebrows raised before he said slowly, “Ohhhh. No, really? You’re the woman who… at the club, that’s why…”

“I guess that’s me.” She twisted her mouth, not sure what to say about Jimin knowing her by action. Why was she admitting this again?! “I, um… it wasn’t serious, at least I didn’t think so. It was nice, I mean he’s nice, he’s a good guy, but it just didn’t…” She gestured, wishing Jimin would finish the sentence for her and read her mind. Alas, he did not.

“You just ended it that day we went clubbing.”

“I’d been putting it off. I sort of didn’t know if there was even anything to end, I mean we weren’t boyfriend and girlfriend or anything, we only went on a few dates really but– I admit, I didn’t handle it well, I should have called it off earlier. I didn’t know what to do because…”

She hated that she couldn’t read Jimin’s mind either. His expression was inscrutable. 

“I have feelings for someone else,” she said and felt like a good ten years of her life drained away with the words leaping from her tongue. She didn’t feel in control of that tongue. “I thought it would be better to meet someone else and move past those feelings.” She swallowed and cleared her throat. Her nose was getting stuffy. “But it didn’t work and it wasn’t fair to Namjoon.”

“This someone else doesn’t return your feelings?” 

She studied his face, desperate to tell if he understood what she was saying. She didn’t think she could be any more transparent, it would kill her. But she had to be. There wasn’t room for error and even though he was watching her so carefully right now, leaning forward, mouth open in that thoughtful pout he had, she couldn’t tell if he understood. She needed him to understand. She could be brave.

“No,” she admitted. “At least I don’t think so.”

“How could he not?” Even just that, even if he said or felt nothing else, Hanbyul felt warmed to her soul. 

Her smile flickered as she tried to joke, “I know, I’m a catch! But I’m still honored just to be neighbor Han–” He stepped forward suddenly and caught her face, cutting her off with a kiss. His lips pressed to hers, the softest caress, softer than her wildest dreams. A second kiss followed, harder, more certain, but still unhurried, like he had all afternoon to spend dragging that plush lower lip of his against hers. He kissed the ten years back into her lungs and then some; she felt sunlight seep from his fingertips into her jaw. She was drowning in him.

“He does return your feelings, Hanbyul,” he murmured, their noses brushing. “He’s just an idiot.”

“He’s not an idiot,” she argued. “He’s… careful.”

“So careful he may have missed his chance.”

What a silly fear from a silly, silly man. She slid her hands slowly up his chest, curious and shy at the strong curve of muscle firm behind the fabric. His neck was so warm beneath her palms. It felt scandalous to touch him so much, to hold him so close, to feel his hands ghost down to her waist, his fingertips nudging her closer.

“It’s not too late at all,” she whispered. “Not unless…” Hudu’s cold nose poked her calf and she startled. Leave it to her dog to nose in on the most romantic moment of her life because he couldn’t stand whispering.

“Unless what?” Jimin asked cautiously, as he leaned away to look in her face. Hudu barked and Jimin’s serious expression cracked into a smile as Hudu leapt up and scratched at his thigh for attention. As if demanding ok now what about me, where’s my kiss? 

God Jimin was even more beautiful up close, and now she knew what those lips felt like pressed to hers, and no words could do them justice. It didn’t seem real. Even his proximity didn’t seem real. It made her forget what she was saying until he threw a toy from the counter to distract Hudu and then pretended like they hadn’t had that interruption.

“Unless what?” he repeated.

“I just told you that I dated your friend. We, um, slept together….” Her face felt like it was on fire from the combination of kiss and confession. Double confession. Not the greatest combination of confessions.

Jimin actually rolled his eyes and sighed, “Yeah, I figured as much, I don’t need a play by play. But I kind of have a past too. I was married and she died. I have a daughter.”

“I know that.”

“And that’s not a dealbreaker for you?”

“No, of course not,” Hanbyul said, not understanding how it could be. 

“Then why would your past be a dealbreaker for me?”

“Well, it’s a very recent past…”

He shook his head, grinning, his earring dangling, and laughed, “I don’t care.”

“Really?”

“I think people are lucky if they get one chance at happiness in life. If I get another chance… I’m not going to let anything get in the way of it. Definitely not jealousy about you dating someone else before me. I can only be mad at myself for waiting so long, right?”

The magnitude of what he’d said was not lost on her. Another chance at happiness. That was… big. Bigger than a little crush, certainly bigger than anything casual thing she and Namjoon had talked about. For Jimin to speak so openly and optimistically about a future with her only moments after kissing her… 

She did it, she stole another kiss. She wasn’t going to let anything get in the way of her happiness, either. 

Then she gasped and laughed into her hand, “God, the first time you kiss me and I’m dressed like this!”

“I like it,” he immediately argued. “It’s cute. You’re very cute dressed like this.”

“I was taking a nap waiting for that call–”

He brushed the hair tenderly back from her face and instantly silenced her. The self-deprecation died on her lips because he looked at her like that. His fondness was transparent. How could she not feel radiant? Surely he’d never looked at her like that before, she couldn’t have missed it. The light touch of his fingers sent a shiver down her spine. Park Jimin was a dangerous charmer and somehow she was the object of his affection.

Impossible.

“Hanbyul,” he said her name lowly.

“Mm-hm.”

“Your face is very warm.”

“I’m…” She trailed off and pouted that he would make her say it. “I’m flustered.”

“I think you have a fever.”

“No, I don’t…”

“Are you sure you feel well?”

“I’m fine,” she insisted. “Really.” He pressed his cold hands to her cheeks and her forehead and her neck and she flinched, the muscles there stiff.

He narrowed his eyes at her and accused, “Did I get you sick and you didn’t tell me?”

“It’s probably just allergies.” She felt a jolt of worry. Would her being sick cause Jimin extraordinary distress because his wife had died? 

He cradled her face. He looked at her so sweetly. 

And ordered, “Get your buns to bed. It’s my turn to take your child for the evening. I’ll bring you stew.”

“But…”

“Don’t worry, I won’t cook it. I’ll order it.”

“You don’t have to.”

“I want to,” he insisted. “And not just because I got you sick but because taking care of you isn’t a burden to me either. It’s what good neighbors do.”

“Jimin!”

He snickered and then kissed her again, as if he couldn’t believe they did that now either. She was completely cowed into obeying his order to bed. He cared about her. He wanted to take care of her. And also to tease her, what a brat! She adored him.

“We’ll talk more about this later,” he promised, brushing his nose against her forehead. “If you promise I’m not too late, I can be patient for a little bit longer.” 

“Is this just a fever dream?” she murmured. Was Park Jimin really saying these things to her?! She felt like she’d hit her head and woken up in a drama.

“So you admit you have a fever.”

“No! Maybe… I’ll get my thermometer.”

She did. And Jimin brought over soup and kept Hudu, like he’d promised. And by the time Hanbyul had finished squealing over the phone at her sister –with very little space for her sister to contribute anything– her voice was shot and her nose was stuffed too much to even sniff her pretty flowers Jimin had brought her.

Did he really mean it, that he cared for her too? What did this mean for them? He hadn’t asked her out but said they would talk more later… Should she ask him out or wait for him to ask her out? Should she ask both of them out? Would Sun-young figure out something was off? Would it be upsetting for her? That child was crazy smart, she would definitely figure something out and ask Hanbyul on the spot and what was she supposed to say? I spiked a fever because your appa kissed me.

Being patient was hard. Harder than Jimin had anticipated. He had thought that kissing Hanbyul and admitting to her that he had feelings would bring him peace but instead it drove him fucking crazy because here they were hovering in this limbo space and she was sick. His fault! She’d cleared caught it taking care of him, and all he could do was take her soup and walk Hudu for her. It wasn’t nearly enough, not compared to how much she had done to take care of Sun-young. Definitely not as much as he wanted to do. He could see her shoulders ached with the fever; how badly he wanted to rub them for her. She was flushed and sweaty and he wanted to brush her hair back –in fact he did, but that felt like as much as he could do for now. 

She’d confessed first. God, he respected her so much for that. He’d definitely been about to chicken out. In hindsight he appreciated Jungkook putting him on the spot, but it didn’t escape him that, secretly, if she hadn’t said it first, he might have run away. He wanted to be brave, he did, but he felt so hopelessly out of his depth here. He didn’t think he could be trying this again with anyone but her, only Hanbyul, because she would be patient if he fumbled a bit. He truly believed that.

But they hadn’t had a chance to talk again because she was sick and he had promised to be patient, and he didn’t want to pressure her in case she took it back, if he harassed her. It scared him for her to be sick. He would be inclined to hover. He didn’t want to scare her off already.

Because now that this door was open, maybe open, if Hanbyul meant what she said and hadn’t just been delirious with fever… 

His heart raced every time he walked by Hanbyul’s door. When he buzzed to ask if Hudu wanted to go out again, he felt like a tongue-tied teenager again. 

Sun-young seemed to just accept that they’d been taking Hudu on walks for the last two days as if it was something they’d always done. She held Hudu’s leash and led Jimin on a path around the park that was clearly familiar to her and Hudu both.

“This is where unnie goes when we walk,” Sun-young informed him as they set out on a bigger circle of the park. “We go to the cafe and she buys me hot chocolate.”

“Hudu goes in with you?”

“He’s a very good dog,” Sunnie assured him, which of course he knew.  Jimin suggested they go, since she was clearly leading him there anyway, and listened with bemused interest as Sun-young told him facts she’d learned about dogs from a book at school, and how dogs were bred for jobs, and how she wondered what job Hudu was bred for.

“I think he’s a mutt,” Jimin said.

“That’s not very nice!”

“No, it’s not an insult. He just isn’t a purebred.”

“So?”

“No, I know, it’s not a bad thing,” Jimin insisted. “But purebreds are the dogs who were bred for a specific job. Mutts just… happened.” Because animals will be animals…

“Well I think Hudu would be very good at a job,” she said, and crouched down to scratch his ratty brown fur. “He can do anything he puts his mind to.” Hudu looked thrilled at her praise and nodded and licked the air in front of her, tail thumping against the pavement.

“Just like you.”

“That was cheesy,” she teased. “I wish Hudu was our dog.”

Jimin swallowed and nodded and casually suggested, “Well, he’s our good friend’s dog, so it’s kind of the same.”

“It’s not the same at all. If he was our dog he would live with us but right now we have to go all the way down the hall to see him.”

“Mm-hm,” Jimin hummed. Yeah, tell me about it. He knew it was too soon to talk to Sun-young about this thing that might be happening, that he might be going to date Hanbyul. He didn’t know what that meant, much less could he explain it to his daughter. It might mean nothing. Hanbyul might change her mind. They might go out on a few dates and she’d decide it wasn’t working. He didn’t want to get ahead of himself, just because he was excited. Having a girlfriend wasn’t like adopting a dog, you didn’t just fill out some paperwork and they were yours forever.

“Appa why is your face all red?” Sunnie giggled. Yah, because I thought the word ‘girlfriend’ about Hanbyul. It was stupid to feel so giddy about it, like some deep slumbering part of him was creaking to life. They hadn’t even gone on a date yet. Hudu snipped at buds pushing through the ground in the flower beds lining the sidewalk and that was exactly how Jimin felt. He was waking up. Hanbyul made him feel like he was blossoming after a long, very hard winter.

“I’m just cold,” he muttered. 

“It’s not cold at all,” she insisted, and did a little spin on the sidewalk. It killed him how graceful she was and turning her back on dance but it was her choice. OK. He was living with it. “Hey we should start planning the rice cakes you signed us up to make for the fundraiser, huh? Do you know what science demonstration you’re doing yet?”

“Not yet. Let’s get hot cocoa to warm you up,” Sunnie suggested. Jimin wondered if that was what Hanbyul usually said; the phrase struck him as odd coming from his nine year old daughter. 

Hudu was pulling them that way too, so Jimin went along for it. She was right, it wasn’t that cold, it was actually very beautiful out this early April evening. Hanbyul liked winter but he knew she liked spring too, she would love walking in this right now, just as the cherry blossoms were reaching their peak. It was criminal she was stuck inside.

“Maybe if Hanbyul feels better this weekend we can see if she’ll go on a picnic with us to see the cherry blossoms,” he suggested.

“Because you just want her to cook for us?” Sunnie gave him a stern glare.

“What? No! I’ll cook.”

“You want to make her sick again?!”

“Hey!” he scowled, and pinched her cheek. She giggled and batted him away, but then grabbed his hand and wrestled with it before there was actually any space between them. He wrestled right back as they waited for the light and Hudu leapt around them, yipping like he was tattling. Jimin won by wrapping his arm around Sun-young and pulling her into his side for a stolen hug which she, breathlessly, conceded.

“Didn’t we go on picnics to see the cherry blossoms with Eomma when I was a baby?” Sun-young asked.

Jimin froze.

“We’ve gone other years,” he said slowly. Yes, it had been an annual tradition, as it was for most families. They’d missed the year after Subin died, because he couldn’t handle it. Maybe they’d missed the year after too? “Seokjin and Namjoon went with us last year.” He watched her as they waited, anxious about why she had thought of going with Subin and not with their other friends after he’d suggested it with Hanbyul. Had she already picked up on something special about Hanbyul going along, about his maybe budding relationship with Hanbyul? Was she already feeling like Hanbyul was encroaching on Subin’s place as her mother?

“Uncle Seokjin is a good cook too,” Sunnie mused. “If you invite him and unnie and Uncle Yoongi we can eat so much.”

Jimin laughed awkwardly. 

How the fuck was he going to talk to Sun-young about Hanbyul? He ought to wait until things progressed with Hanbyul, until he was sure she was sure there was a future there. This could be deeply distressing for Sun-young, him starting to date. Especially someone Sun-young cared about so much. It could ruin her relationship with Hanbyul, she could lose another very important person in her life if it was too soon for her. The progress he’d made with Sun-young could be undone. This thing that he wanted so badly might be the worst possible thing for his daughter… He couldn’t do anything to hurt her… Maybe a counselor could help? He was selfish, he wanted it all, but he also genuinely believed Hanbyul would be so good for Sun-young. Fuck, was he getting ahead of himself? But they were a package, he couldn’t be with someone who wouldn’t be a positive force in his daughter’s life, who his daughter didn’t absolutely love–

“Appa aren’t we going to cross?” Sun-young sighed noisily and then laughed at him as he hurried to lead her and Hudu across before it changed. He was sweating now. Was it better to wait to say anything until he and Hanbyul had been dating a while or was Sun-young going to figure it out no matter how they tried to hide it and be hurt he’d tried? But she was a child. But what if she was mad. But obviously he couldn’t tell her something like this when nothing had even happened yet, and might even not happen if Hanbyul thought better of it before he managed to ask her out.

“Ok Hudu, be really good in here,” Jimin warned the dog, despite Sun-young insisting he knew how to behave –as if implying Jimin was the wild card here. 

It was a cute little cafe, just a nice little local place, not too busy but busy enough to be a reputable place. A curved green awning hung over the door and there were cherry blossoms painted on the window. The decor was simple and clean, dark wood in the seating area and crisp white around the counters and coffee machines.

Sun-young marched right up to the line at the counter, Hudu’s leash tighter around her hand to hold him close, like she must have seen Hanbyul do. It was sweet, seeing this glimpse into what Hanbyul and his daughter did without him. 

When it was their turn, the older woman at the counter smiled at Sun-young and asked, “Oh, you’re not with your eomma today?”

A jolt ran through Jimin. He was used to this –people questioning where his wife was, other mother’s asking to speak to Sun-young’s mother, teachers assuming Subin would be the one to volunteer for class things. But worse, he realized with a shock that the cafe woman thought Hanbyul was Sun-young’s mother. This preyed instantly on the fears he had just been living, as if the universe reached down to pluck them out of his brain and bring them into the real world.

“Oh, I–” Jimin began just as Sun-young chirped, “This is my appa! Can we get two hot cocoas?”

Jimin was stunned by the graceful way she evaded the question and only nodded along as Sun-young picked out two pastries as well, and then led him to a table by the window, explaining, “We like this table the best so we can watch people in the park.” Hudu curled up beneath Sun-young’s chair and waited patiently for her to pass down a spoon of whipped cream. She sang, “Who likes whipped cream? Who do? You do, Hudu!”

Jimin blew on his hot cocoa and tried to find the words.

“Um… Sunnie, you handled that very well,” Jimin eventually mustered. He watched her closely, waiting for any sign she was distressed at this reminder of the fact she didn’t have a mother, or confusion around Hanbyul’s role in her life. 

Sun-young looked thoughtful before laughing, “I thought you meant giving Hudu whipped cream! You mean ordering our drinks? I was practicing what to say before we came in here because unnie orders for us but she tells me to order sometimes too.”

“No, I meant… the confusion from the woman about Hanbyul…”

“Oh that’s nothing. People think unnie is my eomma a lot,” Sun-young informed him. “Well, not a lot, but sometimes people in the park or here think that.” She looked at the ceiling thoughtfully a moment, licking whipped cream off her upper lip, then asked, “Are you mad I didn’t tell her the right thing? I usually tell people the right thing but if you tell someone who doesn’t really know you that your mom is dead, they feel really bad about it. I didn’t want to make the woman feel bad when she’s just being nice. She works here a lot and unnie always talks to her.”

Jimin curled his hands around the cup and insisted, “I’m not saying you have to say anything. I know exactly what you mean.”

“You do?”

“People don’t know how to respond when you say something sad, like that your eomma is gone. It’s thoughtful of you that you didn’t want to make her feel bad but it’s ok to correct them still, even if it makes them feel bad for a moment.”

“Oh. You wanted me to?”

“No, I mean that… I don’t want you to think you need to go along with something that makes you feel sad or bad just to not make the other person feel a little awkward,” he rephrased. 

“It didn’t make me feel bad,” Sun-young said. She set her cup down and had a dollop of whipped cream on her nose which she tried to get off with her tongue before giving up and using the back of her hand before he could find a napkin. “She just doesn’t know me. Why?” Suddenly Sun-young looked worried. “You think it’s bad?”

“No no. You’re right that she doesn’t know you. I just meant it’s ok if it does make you feel sad, or if it bothers you for someone to think Hanbyul is your eomma and you want to correct them.”

Sun-young stretched her tongue out to get whipped cream off the edge of her cup before saying, “No, I don’t mind.” If he didn’t know any better, he’d say she was far more interested in whipped cream than this conversation.

“No? Ok…”

“Sometimes she kind of acts like an eomma anyway,” Sun-young continued. “Like she does some things my real eomma would do if she was here.”

Every muscle in Jimin’s body clenched.

“Is that… ok?”

Sun-young couldn’t have looked more casual with her cheek on her hand as she scrunched her eyebrows and answered, “Yeah, why not? Then you don’t have to do everything.”

“I don’t mind doing everything.”

“You can’t do everything,” Sun-young insisted and gave him a look like he ought to know this. “It’s not that I like her more than you, you’re still my appa. But she’s a girl too and she does some things differently and I think it’s better having her around.”

“Yeah?”

“I get to see her so much lately, I mean until she got sick but you said it’s just a cold.” She gave him a quick look like a sudden fearful thought occurred to her.

“It’s just a cold,” he confirmed. “She got sick coming over when I was sick.”

“How did she get sick from you?”

“Hey that’s what happens with contagious colds,” he quickly insisted, afraid where her questions might lead her. “I didn’t do anything, that’s just how germs work. Just like it’s not your fault I got sick after you were sick. You’re into science, don’t you know about germs?”

“A little bit.” She began to rattle off things she knew about germs, peppering him with questions, so clearly unbothered by this entire conversation. Jimin felt himself start to thaw out. Surely it wouldn’t be that easy. It had only been a few years since Subin died. Sun-young’s feelings could change quickly if Hanbyul actually became a more official presence in her life. She was a little girl with such a little girl understanding of the world and relationships…

But she was growing up too. Maybe he was underestimating her. Again.

Once their pastries and hot cocoa were gone and Hudu was getting restless, Sun-young asked, “Maybe we should take a brownie home for unnie so she’s not sad we came here without her.”

“That’s a good idea. Do you know what she likes?”

“Definitely.” Sun-young made the selection, and the woman packed it up carefully, extending her sympathies when Jimin explained Hanbyul was sick. He didn’t fix the misconception earlier. It was wrong not to. He perpetuated a lie. He was pretending something, trying it on, something he didn’t have any right to yet. 

He felt the twinge of discomfort in his heart. Were things moving too quickly? Was it too soon? He had promised to love Subin his whole life, and now here he was letting this cafe woman believe that Hanbyul was his wife, Sun-young’s mother, all the things that Subin had actually been.

But alongside it was this fresh, slightly raw, new feeling. Like maybe those clothes could fit in time. Not yet, it was foreign and uncertain and scary but… but maybe he could get used to it. If Hanbyul could be patient with him

He had a feeling she would be.

“Maybe you can get unnie flowers too,” Sun-young suggested as they passed a woman selling bouquets on the corner as they crossed back to the park.

“I gave her flowers just a couple days ago.”

“Really?”

“Uh… yeah, you know, to thank her for helping out so much while I was sick. But then she was sick so I don’t think she can even enjoy them. Her nose isn’t working.”

“Maybe you should just ask unnie out on a date again.”

Jimin thought for sure he’d misheard her. He tripped on the curb as Hudu leapt ahead, barking at a squirrel. Sun-young dropped the leash and cried out, but Hudu immediately stopped and trotted right back, waiting patiently for Sun-young to pick the leash up again.

“What did you say?” Jimin asked, clearing the cough from his throat.

“Don’t you like her?”

“Hanbyul-ssi?”

“Yes.” Sun-young looked up at him with her big dark eyes, waiting expectantly.

“Of course, what’s not to like about her?” he returned, trying to sound casual.

“I know, and I think she likes us too and you already took her flowers so… I think it’s backwards? But I don’t really know anything about dating. I think you take her to see a movie now,” Sun-young suggested. As if she was really scraping her knowledge here to help her poor old appa who didn’t know anything about dating.

“You… would be ok with that?”

“I guess you can see a grownup movie I’m not old enough to watch anyway.”

But Jimin desperately wanted this permission that chance and the strange wandering mind of his daughter had brought him, so he pressed, “You would be ok if I went on a date with Hanbyul? If I… if we spent more time with her?”

“I know what dating is,” Sun-young scoffed. “I know when we went to see Mango Crush  it wasn’t even really a date because I was there so this time it can be just the two of you.” Jimin walked slowly, taking Hudu’s leash to pull him closer as some bicycles whizzed past and a bigger dog barked loudly. Hudu didn’t like it and stuck closer to Jiminn’s leg. He was thinking of what to say next.

Instead Sun-young asked, “Do you think it’s weird because it’s not eomma?”

“Weird isn’t the word I was thinking but… maybe. Do you think so?”

“No,” Sun-young said. He thought that was a strange answer and didn’t know whether to trust it.

“I miss your eomma every day,” he continued, “and I haven’t wanted to think about meeting someone new. No one can ever replace your eomma. She loved you so much. I loved her so much.”

“I know that.”

“So I just want to be careful. I don’t want to do anything that makes you and me sad. It’s hard to lose your eomma. It was hard for me to lose my wife.”

Sun-young pursed her lips in thought and it broke his heart, having such an adult conversation with a little girl. It was wrong what he’d said before. She didn’t have a little girl view of the world; she’d had to grow up very quickly in some ways. He just wanted to protect what little girl remained.

“I miss Eomma too, I wish she didn’t die. But I like doing things with unnie too. Is that ok?”

“It’s definitely ok.”

“Then why is it weird?”

“Just… because… I don’t know. Maybe it’s not weird,” he admitted because he didn’t know how to explain his complicated feelings and maybe he didn’t need to. If Sun-young didn’t have a hard time holding both Subin and Hanbyul in her heart, maybe he didn’t need to make it weird for her. If her feelings changed, if she felt different lately, well, they would work through that then. 

“Yeah, don’t make it weird, Appa, and don’t try to be funny and confuse her so she doesn’t know you’re asking her out. Unnie says when you are communicating something important, you have to be firm and clear and believe in yourself.”

“Are you… giving me advice on how to ask her out?”

“Yes!”

Jimin glared and assured her, “Don’t worry, I’ll figure it out. I’ve done this before.”

“With eomma? But that was so long ago.”

“Hey!”

“When we get home you can take Hudu and the brownie and I’ll run to our apartment so you have privacy,” Sun-young suggested.

“I’m not asking her out today! She’s sick!”

“But if you wait, Uncle Tae might ask her out! I think he likes her too.” 

And Namjoon and Jungkook Jimin internally grumbled.

“Don’t you worry about it.”

“Maybe I should help. I asked her out for Mango Crush.”

“Sunnie,” he stopped her right outside the building. “I’ve got this.”

She clapped her hands together and agreed, “That’s good, Appa, believe in yourself. I think she likes us a lot, I think she’ll say yes.”

He did not ask Hanbyul out, despite Sun-young’s eager questions as soon as he got back from returning Hudu and delivering the brownie. He tutted her away. Now he wondered if it would be better for her not to have known for a different reason. She might overwhelm Hanbyul. She might make Hanbyul feel rushed or pressured into something she didn’t actually want.

No, he had to trust Hanbyul in making her own decisions. He believed she would. And his heart did feel lighter about it all knowing he had Sun-young’s shockingly full support. 

Instead he waited until Sun-young had gone to bed to make the last phone call he needed to before he’d feel free to take the next step.

“Hey, Namjoon! I don’t want things to be awkward between us so I want to be upfront with you about my feelings for Hanbyul…”

Previous Chapter | Masterlist | Next Chapter

[clairdeluneeeeee]

(Friendly) Matches - Kiyotaka & Celeste

A little fun fact about Ishimaru to start the Kiyotaka week on a positive note:

Kiyotaka and Celeste used to challenge each other often in games of strategy. This is something that gets mentioned in Ishimaru’s School Mode, but also in their Summer Camp and UTDP interactions.

Of course, as we all know, Celeste is the ultimate gambler, so her luck will allow her to win whatever match, even if she admits not knowing shogi’s rules (the game they often play together) that well.

Their friendship is just so funny to explore imo, because they literally have almost nothing in common, and yet, they tend to rotate around each other, even during the main story.

When you start digging deeper in their individual characterisation, you’ll easily discover that they share some traits: like the fact that they can get pretty competitive, and they tend to favour games in which using one’s mind and knowing the “strategy” is the most prominent factor to assure their own victory.

Despite this, their personalities are worlds apart, and they have fundamentally opposite roots that allowed them to turn into the type of person they are today.

Kiyotaka is a bold, enthusiastic young man who takes a lot of pride in the concept of being a “hard worker”, and he’s sure that, one day, he’ll be able to create a perfect society that primarily prioritises meritocracy.

Ishimaru is such a dreamer, he has ideas that most people would find abnormal and impossible to accomplish. Yet, they aren’t totally unrealistic, or at least, not thanks to the way Kiyotaka approaches difficult and tricky subjects. He is always studying, constantly and really, really hard. He tries to understand the situations in which he was thrown into, and then he develops strategies to come out of them as the winner.

Unfortunately, this trait of his was his biggest downfall during the killing school-life. His dedication, paired with his goal of wanting to be as useful as he can be for the others, kinda dug his grave. It wasn’t his fault, but being dictated by your own feelings and impressions in such an environment can be deadly, especially if you end up trusting a soon-to-be killer.

Celeste, on the other hand, is extremely cynical and closed-off. She doesn’t care about anyone but herself, and she’s so confident in her abilities that she tends to overestimate her successes.

Even so, her behaviour isn’t going to be rewarded either. Her pride will be what’ll ruin her in the end, and her inability to come to terms with who she really is going to be shown as her greatest weakness.

Now, a thing that I found quite interesting is how, after tons of failed attempts from Ishimaru’s side, Kiyotaka and Celeste actually come to a draw during one of their matches in the UTDP, which surprises them both.

And while Celeste is quick to dismiss this event by proclaiming that she simply hadn’t been lucky enough that day, and that something like this is never going to happen again, Kiyotaka attributes it to all the efforts he has been putting into his goal of surpassing Celeste.

Even though we’ll never know whatever his triumph was really due to his hard work or if it just happened because of mere fortune, I think it’s a nice conclusion that allow us to see Kiyotaka’s whole philosophy in a rather positive light.

It doesn’t matter if all the odds are against you, or if people are constantly dragging you down for having an “unrealistic and childish” mindset, as long as you’ll believe in what you’re doing and in your capacities, you’ll always stand a chance to gain a victory, however small it may be.

[enkephallic]

LCB Sinner Analysis: The Original Sins

I think the original LCB sinners' sin affinities for their skills are definitely related to them as people. My current theory is that S1 represents a surface level read of their personality, and their S3 is the true sin embedded deeper into themselves.

Gregor: His S1 is gloom, which is how he initially appears to be. He's carrying a lot and it seeps put. But his S3 is sloth. In Limbus Company, sloth seems to be tied in with giving up on taking action and making things better.

Rodya: S1 gluttony, which makes sense considering her want for money and good food. Her S3 is wrath, which was what drove her to axe the old hag who had been exploiting people.

Sinclair: S1 is pride, I guess this is how he comes off rich and privileged to some others. S3 is jealousy which confuses me a little, but I think it's related to the behaviour he exhibited in class that ultimately led to the tragedy.

Yi Sang: S1 is gloom - he's quiet and reserved, but is hinted not to have been. S3 is sloth, which definitely is the sin that fits him the most pre-limbus. He admits himself he simply observed without taking control.

Ishmael: S1 is wrath. She seems annoyed at perceived stupidity and often shows exasperation. S3 is gloom. She's scared of losing people and is hurting, which makes her extremely unstable and difficult for Dante to work with.

Heathcliff: S1 is jealousy. He's jealous on the surface level and is written to have an inferiority complex on his file, but his S3 is lust. He wants to relentlessly pursue something/transform himself, which will most likely hurt him along the way. also maybe hes horny

Don Quixote: S1 is lust. She has lots of things she wants to become and accomplish. S3 is gluttony, which I'm assuming was her wanting too many things that potentially conflicted (maybe her idea of justice involved two things clashing - eg. is it justice to steal when you're desperate? is it justice to stop the thief?).

Hong Lu: S1 is pride, much like Sinclair. His innocent curiosity comes off as arrogant to others. His S3 is lust - I speculate that he really wanted to become something, or change his own self in some way.

Ryoshu: S1 is gluttony. This does confuse me a little, but I'm guessing it's her obvious desire to create/observe Art and beauty. S3 is pride. She perhaps overestimated herself and fucked over someone she cared for

Meursalt: S1 is sloth. Yeah. Sinclair having a panic attack? Well he wasn't told to report on it so. S3 is ... gloom? Oh he must be carrying a lot. I have not read his novel yet so I won't make rash assumptions, but I guess it's something to do with grief.

Outis: S1 is sloth. I'm guessing this is her paper thin veneer of sucking up to Dante and treating his word as absolute, though it's clear it's not sincere. More suprisingly her S3 is gloom. I think this makes a lot more sense after reading her Schutz ID story - she has someone she loves, even at her absolute lowest.

Faust: S1 is pride. Yea. Yeah. yeah. yea. S3 is also gluttony. It's difficult to know much about her, but I'm guessing she really wanted to accomplish something, which would involve a lot of resources and potentially cause a lot of danger due to it.

[9w1ft]

@ anon who said it's hard being a gaylor:

I think Taylor might flag in a way that a lot of queer people flag, so that people who understand do and those who they don't want to know won't know. that was the entire point of queer flagging in the first place, to safely show other queer people that you are one of them without being recognised as a queer person by the straight (possibly homophobic) public. she's not constantly switching up on us, but she has the need to please all of her fanbase (which she talked about in Miss Americana), not to mention her bearding can keep her actual relationship private and safe from the public eye. so i really don't think her "straight" behaviour is actively malicious towards us as gaylors/kaylors.

second, i think taylor doesn't have the power to tell all swifties to stop behaving homophobic towards us. she has a massive influence for sure, but hateful people will stay hateful no matter what. she can react to/address the bullying happening and people will be like "aw... anyways fuck gaylors". i mean she basically positioned herself as an ally with YNTCD and people still spout homophobic hate at people for associating her songs to their own queer experience (without bringing taylors own sexuality into it). I've seen people hate on sapphics for interpreting "i can see you" through a sapphic lense, even though these sapphics didn't state anything about taylor and only said "hey this song resonates with my own sapphic experience". you overestimate how much influence Taylor's word actually has within her fandom..

like 9wing said, maybe you need to change your outlook on this situation or distance yourself a bit, if the state of things hurts/frustrates you too much

you bring up an interesting point that queer flagging by definition is in part something done in a way that the people that dont get it explicitly continue to not get it.

i totally understand why gaylors might want to turn taylor into a history lesson or use what she does as a teachable moment and in some ways it’s a noble endeavor but i think it’s important to truly make it an objective effort and by that i mean that it’s not something being attempted as a way to better our situation or to justify it but to very simply document it, and also to recognize that they’re talking about an active person who is also free to like that or not like the way she is talked about at any given moment

gaylors or others sometimes say that focusing on muses is selfish or the opposite of objective but sometimes i have been made to feel that gaylorism is just as susceptible to the trappings of parasocialism that any other group in the fandom is, they’re just not all as aware of it yet.

[silverefflux]

The First Meet

Chapter 1 of my new König x Fem!OC fic, Rush

See Chapter List

Photo by Fred Austin Photography

Summary: A private jet pilot flies her boss to Austria and hangs around for three weeks. She gains a new friend during a hike. You already know what's next.

Warning/s: A bit of explicit language; König has an established real name here; pretty much a self-indulgent (yes, self-insert) fic, so sorry in advance

. . .

Back to You // Lost Frequencies, Elley Duhé, X Ambassadors

Bobbing her head to the steady four-on-the-floor beats echoing inside her helmet, Kate rode her motorbike across the winding roads of the Austrian Alps. The cold morning breeze worked against her music though, subtly reminding her that she could be sound asleep at this hour, if not for the long ride to the hiking spot in her itinerary.

Nevertheless, she loved every second. In fact, it was all she could ask for at the moment—cruising at your own pace and singing without a care while the snow-capped mountains keep you company. She passed a couple of rock tunnels and couldn’t be more grateful likening herself to a speck of dust amidst the mass of the earth, one with the nature she is traversing.

A while after, a loud car horn awoke her from the trance of a blissful groove. She glanced sideways at the open window of an SUV matching her speed. A little boy was waving at her. She revved her bike and waved back, her heart warmed by the small interaction. Afterwards, the car zoomed away.

All this on a Wednesday? This is the fucking life, she thought.

Soon, she reached her destination. She slowed to a stop at a parking lot, scanning for a spot, preferably one that keeps her bike from hitting someone else’s car should it be knocked down. That was an easy find though; there weren’t a lot of tourists on a weekday morning. If there was anything she truly worried about, it was her bike’s noise drawing unnecessary attention in a quiet place like Tyrol. As soon as she set the kickstand down and stowed away her riding gear, she began her hike.

Choosing the scenic way up, she marched up a multitude of stone steps for two hours in a continuous steep climb, alternating between walking and stopping by to take pictures of the view.

Eventually, her stops became her excuses to rest. Every step she took grew heavier, as was her breathing. The air gradually thinned and she soon realized that as active as she was, the hike wasn’t going as perfectly as she had hoped.

Maybe it’s the ride? Should I have spent the night somewhere halfway? She reckoned that she must’ve overestimated herself. Flaws of the confident, I guess, she shrugged.

Giving herself a second to breathe, she powered back through—only to stop again.

Nope, not happening, she relented as her exhaustion got the best of her. She slumped over with her hands on her knees, took a deep breath, and exhaled with a yell to try and get herself back up. Some feet ahead of the trail, two men looked back at her and started whispering.

“Verzeihung!” she squeaked, flinching and raising her hand apologetically. One of the men said something to the other with a cheeky smile, and the other responded with a slap on the former’s shoulder.

Her eyes widened and her cheeks glowed red. God, who else heard that? She decided to turn away and stand by a ledge to spare herself from feeling any more like that one obnoxious tourist. She ate a granola bar from her bag to occupy herself and took redundant photos as she waited for the longest 5 minutes of her life.

“Hallo, sprechen Sie Englisch?” asked a voice from behind.

She looked towards the voice to find that it belonged to one of the men up the trail. A tall Asian guy who looked to be in his late thirties. He wore a teal hiking backpack with an all-black outfit of running shorts and a plain dri-fit shirt that fit his form well. To top it off, he didn’t look tired at all, which gave Kate the impression that he was highly athletic—or simply not a novice hiker.

“Yeah, hi,” she responded.

“Nice, my friend over there just got a little concerned,” he said with a tiny smirk, gesturing to his companion who stood quite a ways up and staring off elsewhere. Kate noticed that the man didn’t have an Austrian accent, which somehow soothed her unease over her seeming ignorance.

She cringed at herself. “Oh…gosh, I’m sorry about the noise,” she said with nervous laughter. As nice as their concern was, it just confirmed to her that she was an obvious newbie.

The man chuckled. “Don't be. Care to join us?”

Welp, company would definitely make this easier, save for the fact that they were the ones who giggled at you earlier. “Sure,” she beamed anyway.

Kate tagged behind the man as they walked towards his buddy. “This route’s a little more challenging, yeah?” he spoke lightheartedly.

“Uh huh. First hike.” she faltered.

“Not a bad choice. The view makes up for the long climb,” he replied with a stern voice.

As they closed in on his buddy, her immediate impression was that as tall as the first man was, the second one? Even more so. A fair-skinned man whom she guessed must’ve been around 7 feet tall, if not close. Contrary to the “concern” that the first man mentioned, his buddy met them with a straight face, concealed by a gray face mask. “This is my friend, Dominik,” he introduced him. “Kate”, she responded back, offering to shake Dominik’s hand. He accepted and nodded, albeit his eyes narrowing and his hand being a little cold, which she brushed off as due to the weather.

“Ah–and I’m Hong-jin,” he chimed in, enunciating his name as if to make sure she got it right.

“Nice meeting you both,” Kate said as she shook Hong-jin’s hand, “Thanks for taking me with you guys.”

“Sure,” Hong-jin answered, then directed his gaze to Dominik. “It’s her first hike,” he remarked. His eyes lingered at Dominik for a couple seconds longer, as if to cue him to say something.

“Olpererhütte for your first hike? Who told you this was a beginner trail?” Dominik looked down at Kate.

“No one…?” she lilted, “I just asked my Airbnb host for the prettiest one around.” She shrugged, “Though this really is one for the books for me. Even on the ride here.”

Dominik only raised his brows slightly before looking straight ahead. For the rest of the climb, that would be the longest couple of sentences he ever spoke, choosing to keep on with his hands tucked inside the pockets of his cargo pants. It was mostly Hong-jin chatting with Kate. If Dominik ever said anything, they were mere one or two-word replies. For the time being, as she shared some menial details about herself, she was able to figure out that Hong-jin is a Korean, and Dominik a German who spent his childhood in a nearby Austrian town, and that the two had a brotherly dynamic about them.

“How long before we reach the hut?” she asked the two of them.

“Maybe a couple more hours,” Hong-jin replied.

Kate hissed, tucking her water bottle in and adjusting her backpack. “Whew, long way.”

“Just tell us if you need a break, all right?” Hong-jin reassured her.

“Yeah thanks,” she answered curtly.

“Wait,” Dominik said under his breath, stopping to stand still. He took his face mask off and clutched it while his hand rested on his waist. He kept his head down and his eyes darted towards the ground, fully concentrated on getting back some much needed air. Beads of sweat began to drip down the side of his forehead.

Hong-jin’s expression shifted from calm to worried. “You good?” he asked. Dominik’s eyes did not leave his shoes as he swung his free hand, as if to shoo the other two away. Kate twirled the strap of her backpack around her finger and looked to Hong-jin, unsure of what to do.

“Okay, we’ll go ahead.” Hong-jin uttered. “He’ll be fine,” he told Kate with a shake of his head as they walked on, but not too far as to leave Dominik behind.

When they were a good amount of steps away, Kate cast a glance at Dominik. “You sure he’s fine?”

“Yeah, yeah,” he waved off, “By the way, weren’t you the one with the GS earlier?”

“Uhh…yes,” she drawled, eyeing towards her left and pulling a downward grin, “Was it that loud?”

“Oh no, no,” he croaked, leaning away slightly, “Nik and I saw you parking when we started.”

“Ah. Okay,” she trailed off. “ ‘Cause I was honestly worried it was too noisy,” she continued, wrinkling her nose at the thought, “I asked the bike rental for one that wasn’t bothersome in Tyrol but good enough to ride from Vienna.”

That earned his fascination. “Whoa, you rode from Vienna?” he asked her.

“Mmhm,” she nodded proudly, “Had to go pretty early, but fun stuff! I didn’t get tired much because I was just vibing with everything.” Not tired, sure, but maybe I shouldn’t have ridden five hours to hike for another four.

“Cool,” he said in awe. “I’m saving up to buy my own actually.”

“Ooh, what bike are you picking?” she asked in delight.

“Kawasaki Ninja,” he said, “I like the sporty look.”

“The 1000?” she asked, head tilted in anticipation.

“Yeah.”

“Aw hell yeah. I still ride a Beemer back in the Philippines. RnineT.”

“Nice,” he high-fived her in approval, “Wait, where’s—König!” he called out to Dominik below, but cut himself off for some reason. Meanwhile, his friend looked back at them from standing before the mountain view cross-armed, letting out an exhale before trudging towards them. “Aish, i mossol…” Hong-jin sighed to himself.

Dominik wore his mask again after he caught up with them, wordlessly as before. Eventually, the three reached their first destination: a two-storey mountain hut made of burnt-colored bricks and wood, a place where all the hikers gathered.

A look of fulfillment painted Kate’s face as she intertwined her fingers behind her head and took a deep breath. “Finally,” she sighed. The trio walked into the place and Kate’s first thought was to go to the bathroom. She excused herself and told the two men that they could go ahead to the hanging bridge that was a short walk away from the hut. Almost immediately after she was out of earshot, Hong-jin turned to Dominik.

“She rides bikes and flies planes,” he implored, stressing his point with his hands.

“Oh wow, danke! Du bist der Hammer!” he derided, “For fuck’s sake, Jin, stop playing matchmaker.”

“What? Why not? You said she was ‘easy on the eyes’,” he quipped back, sounding mildly offended.

“She doesn’t look bad, that’s what I meant,” Dominik groaned, “You know, if you like her so much, just ask her out.”

“One, I’m out of the market right now—”

“So am I—”

“And two, you’re the one for sale.”

“Ugh.”

The two walked out of the hut and on to the bridge, still continuing their banter. As persistent as Hong-jin was, he couldn’t afford to push his friend past his boundaries, so he arrived at a compromise.

“Okay, at least talk to her so you have something new to tell your therapist?” he fretted.

Dominik stared blankly at his friend and took a second to think. “Eh…no,” he said dryly, hiking briskly ahead to gain some alone time at the hanging bridge. Hong-jin could only scratch his head, but what else could he do? He strolled elsewhere to sit and take in the view, overlooking the vast valley that embraced a turquoise lake.

Kate made her way up to the bridge after some time, passing Hong-jin in his little spot. “Hey there,” she chirped.

“Hi,” Hong-jin greeted back, “Nik’s over at the bridge.”

She looked over to see Dominik standing by himself at the bridge, this time without his face mask. Before Dominik knew, she was making her way towards him.

Oh no. Please go back to Jin, his mind attempted to tell her telepathically, but clearly in vain.

“Hi?” she said, peeking at his eyes to see if he was pissed at her presence, “Mind if I share the bridge?”

The mask.

His hand fidgeted with his pocket to fish out his face mask, but something in his head told him to try and push himself this time. 

“Sure,” he replied in a seemingly offhanded tone.

She stood beside him and brought out her phone to take pictures of the lake. “View’s lovely.”

“Mmhm.”

“Would you believe I was taking pictures earlier as an excuse to not look like a total noob?” she giggled, “I mean I was struggling to keep up but that was so weird of me. What the hell was I thinking there?”

“Pictures or not, you don’t have to worry because almost everyone here’s not local.”

“I see.”

Silence.

“Have you been here before?” she asked him.

“Ja.”

“Oh. Okay. That’s nice.”

More silence that she felt compelled to break.

“Anyhoo, are we allowed to sit here?”

“Yeah.”

She settled herself near one of the ropes that held the wooden planks up, legs dangling over the bridge. Dominik stayed still. “Yeah the height gap is very apparent right now,” said Kate, smiling up at him. He took the cue and sat down beside her. Gaining a closer look at his face, she noticed a large pale scar extending from his right temple, down his cheek, then above the corner of his lip, ending somewhere on his chin. There definitely was a major reason behind it, she pondered, one that was likely too heavy to ask. She shifted the topic in her head.

“If you don’t mind me asking, how did you and Hong-jin know each other?”

“Uhh…” he looked to Horangi for respite, but he was still far off in his zone taking selfies, not even sparing a moment to check outside his bubble. No backup now. “We met at work a few times. Been friends ever since,” he responded.

“Hmm, so you guys go a long way. What do you guys do anyway?”

Another pause. “Military.”

“Cool,” she remarked. That explained the matching crew cuts. She guessed from his hesitation that she shouldn’t ask for any more what’s or when’s. Quick, ask something else. “I’m guessing military life gets pretty crazy. Pays to take breaks like this one. From all the noise. If machines get to have a break, why can’t we?”

I appreciate the attempt to talk to me, but this strikes a chord—perhaps too hard, he thought. “Unless the job asks for you to really act like a machine, sometimes you have to be like one.”

“But then take a break, like a….machine would?” she replied.

He hummed. “Sure. Then take a break.”

Something in Kate felt triumphant in making him say something other than one-word replies. She rested her hands on the horizontal rope in front of her face and swung her legs absentmindedly. “Yeah. We’re just people. Gotta cope how you need to,” she began to ramble, “Whether that’s peace and quiet, or some good old adrenaline rush. There’s some of that in flying too, which I liked at first, but then the pressure of the job sinks in after a while. It’s like with yo—”

She stopped herself, it felt wrong to complain about her work pressures in front of a literal soldier. She continued, “Okay not really military life-or-death type, of course, but the amount of hard work you need to make it look easy. The smallest scratch on a plane, big incident. Then the first thing the board always points fingers at is the guys in front, know what I mean? Guess because it’s legally the easiest way out?”

Dominik only looked at her and took a short gasp of air, wanting to say something.

Nope. Might breach an NDA.

So he held himself back. Silence was once again shared between the two. But it was a more comfortable one this time, being filled in by the mountain breeze and rustles of greenery.

Suddenly, he spoke. “Adrenaline rush, huh? I supposed the motorbike matched your style.”

“Did it now? Yeah, I like the rush you get from that sorta stuff. A healthy kind of scare. Heck, I’d bungee jump from here right now if I could.” He moved to peek below the bridge. It was fairly far down, but it was layered with rocks from the stream and was too shallow to “bungee jump” from. “That doesn’t sound very healthy,” commented Dominik.

It earned him a snicker from her. “I’m kidding. But—dude,” she swung her head to look him persuasively in the eyes. “Bungee’s fun.”

“A guy my size—I’m probably safer jumping without a rope,” he replied, a smirk shyly peeking into the corners of his mouth. Kate observed that the man had a rather sweet smile. His lips pressed into a thin line, but his cheeks rose ever so slightly.

Her eyes secretly enjoyed lingering on his, admiring the soulful blue of his irises. She realized she may have misjudged him. He wasn’t as cold as she thought; only reserved, but nevertheless, a friendly guy with a long list of experiences that came with his work.

As much as she liked this man’s face, perhaps what she found more interesting was the warmth and tranquility of the moment. No crazy jitters, as if she was just talking to a friend.

Breaking her thoughts from spiraling mid-conversation, she opted to keep the ball rolling, scavenging for names of other extreme sports that involved jumping but had nothing to do with laying your life on a piece of rope. “Hmm, what about cliff diving? Wait, you ever done a jump like that before?”

“I’ve jumped out of a plane.”

Her interest in what he had to say grew, so she sat up straight and leaned a little towards him, “Ooooh, skydiving?” His eyes slightly widened. “Well—yeah skydiving.”

She furrowed her brows at that, then laughed in bewilderment. “Whoa there, why is something telling me it wasn’t just that? Oh my god, what did you do?”

He chuckled at her, flattered upon seeing her interest in what he can do. “I can’t tell. Although skydiving, rappelling down an aircraft…it’s part of the job.”

She hummed with a pout and planted her arms back on the wooden planks. “Wild. I like your style.”

“It’s the rush.”

“Right?” she replied. Man, this guy is cool. “Okay one more photo from here.” She snaps one last photo of the lake, before delicately tucking away her phone in a zipped pocket in her pants. “And yeah let’s keep that, don’t want my phone to fall.”

“You’re terrified of your phone falling but you’ll dive off this bridge?” he questioned her.

“My phone is incapable of saving itself. Though yeah I’m telling you, I’d freakin’ parkour here or something.” she teased, leaning slowly toward the ropes then watching for Dominik’s reaction. Only a face that reads, I’d like to see you try. She faked falling over the rope with a mocking shiver. Still nothing from him but mild amusement. “Tough guy,” she said slyly. His eyes narrowed.

“Ah, look at the time!” he exclaimed as he slapped his hands down on his thighs so aggressively that it made the whole bridge wobble. “Is Hong-jin done yet?” he grinned at her, pretending to be oblivious to her squealing and wrapping her legs around the vertical rope.

“Gago, Dominik!” she shrieked,” hands gripping tighter on the rope and laughing in defeat at his fairly scary retort.

He shook his head. “Okay, I’m sorry, bad joke,” he stood up, offering a hand to her.

She took his hand. “S’alright, it was actually pretty ironic, so touché.”

They walked out of the bridge and back to Hong-jin. “For someone who likes peace and quiet,” he pointed out, “you’re rather loud.”

“Dominik,” she glared up at him in disbelief, “You shook the damn bridge, what do you expect?”

“No, even during the climb. I could hear you even when you and Jin went ahead.”

“Oops. Should I be sorry?” her gaze fixated on the rocks they were walking on.

“Nah,” he drawled, “The energy’s nice. And call me Nik by the way.”

Hong-jin’s attention turned from his phone towards them at the sound of footsteps over the rocks. He got up, gave his friend a subtle glance then acknowledged Kate. Asking the two how the bridge view was, he read that both were now fairly at ease around each other. The three returned to the hut for some beer. They sat side-by-side at a long table overlooking the mountains. It was close to noon and a good amount of fog had dissipated.

Kate took a swig of her drink. “So you guys are heading back to Germany after this?” she asked, looking at Hong-jin who was next to her, then to Dominik.

Hong-jin responded, “Yeah. You?”

“Overnight here.”

“Oh. Enjoy your stay, then,”

“I will.”

She caught Dominik looking away and taking a huge drink from his mug.

They exchanged more stories and shared some laughs as they finished their drinks. Soon enough, Dominik and Hong-jin said they had to be on their way. They bid each other goodbye.

As she watched the two men walk away, she realized it was now or never, else she might not see them again.

“Them”? Please, it’s mostly Tall Boy you’re worried about, she told herself, You’re a tourist. Nobody knows you here. Go for it. What could go wrong?

“Wait!” she called their attention. They turned around and saw her briskly walking to them with her phone in her hand. Despite the fact that she was addressing both people, she looked mainly at Dominik as she spoke. “If you don’t mind, maybe we’ll catch up again, guess I could have your socials or something?” She quickly realized her eyes might incriminate herself and immediately looked at Hong-jin. “Or yours. Anyone, really, if we’re all hanging out next time.”

Dominik only stood, hesitant to take her phone as she offered it. “I don’t really have social media. But I suppose I can give you my number.”

Perhaps it was a good thing that neither of them saw Hong-jin twist his face in wry amusement over what Dominik just said.

She opened the phone app and handed her phone to Dominik, who typed in his number. She gestured to Hong-jin to type in his social media handles, which she followed right after.

“All right,” she said gleefully after pocketing her phone, “Guess we’ll chat around when we can. It was nice meeting you both.”

The other two nodded and smiled in agreement before saying goodbye to her again.

She bought lunch soon after, then after a hearty meal, she settled her things on the bed, and opened her phone to look at one of the newly saved contacts.

Dominik Brunner.

Pretty name, she mused. As odd as it felt for her to fixate on the details of someone she just met, she admitted that she liked how he seemed pretty outgoing underneath the timid front. She allowed the soft, warm glow slowly to creep up on her cheeks, silently savoring that small win she had for the day.

. . .

Also posted on Ao3. Hope you liked this fic!

Translations:

Verzeihung! - Excuse me!/Sorry! Hallo, sprechen Sie Englisch? - Hello, do you speak English? Aish, i mossol… - Aish [interjection for frustration or slight anger], this mossol [slang, someone who has never had a boyfriend or girlfriend] Oh wow, danke! Du bist der Hammer! - Oh wow, thanks! You're the best! Gago - [offensive], jerk/bastard

[petitmortes]

@ach1llean said: whatever you desire, it's yours.

oh,    how   desperately   she   wants   to   believe   him.    to   allow   herself   to   be   taken   under   by   the   daydream   loras   and   margaery   present   her   with,       of   highgarden       –        of   their   older   brother,    willas,    kind   and   sweet.    but   where   there   should   be   hope,    there   is   tentative   uncertainty.    fear.    worry.    continuously   etched   into   the   fine   features   of   her   face   to   the   point   that   sansa   looks   more   akin   to   a   fawn   than   she   does   a   wolf.    she   exhales   a   breath   she   hadn't   realized   she   was   holding,    her   lips   forming   a   smile   that   does   not   reach   her   eyes   as   she   rests   her   hand   upon   his   arm.        “you   are   very   kind   to   say   so.”        gentle,    dismissive   words   as   she   steps   further   down   the   garden   path. 

“   i   am   very   appreciative   of       .   .   .       everything   your   family   has   offered   me,    ser   loras.   ”        but   she   worries.    but   sansa   knows   cersei   will   not   merely   allow   her   to   leave.    even   once   margaery   was   made   queen,    the   rot   would   still   remain        –     joffrey   would   still   exist,    no   matter   how   tempered   he   made   himself   out   to   be;    and   cersei       .   .   .       sansa   feared   for   the   aftermath   of   the   queen   mother   finding   out   she   no   longer   held   enough   sway   with   her   son.    

“   i   am   afraid   that        –        perhaps   you   all   might   be   overestimating   the   amount   of   trouble   i   am   worth.   ”        she   says   plainly,    an   admittance   that   had   been   a   long   time   coming.    was   there   not   a   reason   robb   had   not   come   for   her?    that   in   the   time   before   he'd   been   betrayed,    he   had   not   thought   so   much   to   set   his   sights   to   her.    it   was   her   fault   that   their   father   had   died        –        her   fault   that   he'd   taken   the   position   with   robert   baratheon   in   the   first   place.    an   incessant   amount   of   begging   that'd   led   to   her   father   begrudgingly   allowing   her   betrothal   to   joffrey.    maybe   she   had   simply   earned   her   place   here,    had   earned   the   mistreatment   and   misfortune. 

“   i   would   not   want   to   cause   any   hardships   for   margaery's   marriage.   ” 

[away-ward]

This isn’t a request more of a suggestion bc I know your writing doesn’t work like that but imagine a fic with Emmy talking to Will about her escapades with men over their time apart, or an ex of hers popping up idk I’m just so used to hearing about Will and his whore tendency’s I just want to hear about Emmy’s bc I know she was not celibate over the years, especially when he asked her if she ever had man in her mouth and she said she never had him in her mouth. I’d love to here even your thoughts on the matter. Ik that in one of your fics you wrote about Emmy being with her co worker in the past and Will was jealous about it.

Hey, thanks for the suggestion. To be honest, a request almost exactly like this is how I ended up with No Apologies. If you go back far enough, you’ll see I struggled with it back then. I’d probably struggle with it now, too.

I’ve recieved many requests/suggestions like this and I can understand why it’s popular. I really hope a fic writer comes into the fandom who is interested in this kind of plot, because I can see it doing really well.

I think part of the problem is that I’m just not interested in Emory trying to make Will jealous or upset. And this might be a controversial take, but I also don’t think Emory would try to do that. She has a tough shell, but inside she’s sweet and soft, and not interested in hurting others just because she can. If I were to make an honest attempt at a fic where they’re talking about it, it would be emotional and full of regret (on Will’s end; Emory doesn’t have anything to regret, but that doesn’t mean she wouldn’t also feel it.)

However, I can talk about why I don’t see what other people see when it comes to Emory’s potential body count being any kind of issue.

In Nightfall, Will says that he doesn’t care if anyone else touched her, she was his girl and that’s all that mattered.

Now, I know I just put up a large case for Will being a liar, but this is one moment where I think he was being truthful. He has a moment of clarity, where he’s able to tell what really matters and what doesn’t. While that moment might have passed, and he could find himself being jealous again, I think by the time they’re married, he settled with the things that have happened in the past and is ready to look forward. I don’t think he’s blind to the fact that nine years have passed, during which she could have done anything with anyone. What mattered is that they were finally in the right place and the right time, determined to see it through.

Maybe another hot take of mine, but Emory doesn’t have that high of a body count. I wouldn’t estimate more than five, and that’s stretching it.

I’ve discussed this briefly before. I feel Emory overestimated what college was going to be like for her. Maybe she thought that getting away from Martin would allow her to open up, but I see her still struggling to do that. A mixture of that’s simply who she is, trauma, and being heartbroken over Will leads to her not making strong connections. This is also confirmed in Nightfall when she’s able to make calls and realizes she has no one waiting on her. No one is missing her, which his a sad thought, but makes sense in a way.

It's totally possible that she’s attempted to have a “normal” life, going on dates or trying her hand at hook-up cultural, probably thinking similar to a lot of readers, “if Will can do it, so can I.” But there is a difference between her and Will, and I think she wouldn’t "enjoy" herself the same way he does.

The quote you mentioned, I didn’t take as confirmation, but instead as deflection. She doesn’t answer his question, only reminds him he never got that far.

A lot people point to that as proof she has more experience but I like to point to Rika, Banks, and Winter in return.

Rika’s body count was one before being with Michael. Banks’ was zero, and it’s unlikely Winter had sex with a man other than Damon, though we know she’s at least kissed others. None of them experienced any kind of learning curve where they had to improve their technique.

I’m not entirely sure if PD’s aim was to show that when it’s with the person “you’re made for” then everything will feel right and it’ll all fall into place. Or if they just didn’t want to write about women learning things or sex between a couple getting better with time or what. Regardless, I don’t see that quote or anything that Emory did with Will as proof she’s had a lot of experiences away from him.  

The way PD writes Will’s addictions lends to the idea that Women are grouped up with Drugs and Alcohol.

Since external relationships, or Will’s whoring around, seem to be linked with his drug use and drinking, it kind of points to that being a problem; one Will isn’t exactly proud of. I don’t see a scenario where Emory feels the need to bring up his past in a way to make him feel bad, or give him a taste of what he did to her by reminding him she had other people too. It would be the equivalent of reminding a recovering alcoholic of the horrible things they did when they were drunk. If you love someone, you don't just throw that in their face.

Emory accepted Will for who he was the day she asked him to marry her, his past included. It would be a shame if she were to keep this in her back pocket as a way get one over on him in the event of a fight.

And maybe my most controversial take: Emory doesn’t even think of those hypothetical men. Will does more than enough to satisfy her.

In Hideaway, Banks and Alex peek in on Will with another woman. Alex mentions that Will puts in the work in making his partner feel good.

In Nightfall, after Emory breaks Will out of prison and they’re in the back seat of the SUV, Damon parks and then, as he’s watching, says “Um…Wow. Okay.”

Damon.

Damon, who has watched Will with women many times before and has engaged with Will himself, sees the way Will goes after Emory, and this causes him to pause.

The first part I mention because it goes to the idea that Will might be the best lay of all the guys. It seems that he actually views the pleasure of his partner as a goal to achieve, as opposed to Michael or Damon who might view it as a curtsey on their part (except for with Rika and Winter, of course). Kai calls himself a “gentleman” but what does that even mean.

Point is, Will knows how to make people feel good. And now his focus and efforts are all towards Emory. Girl is livin' just fine.

I don’t think she would ever need a reason to conquer him this way.

I say all of this because whenever I get a request or an ask similar to this, it always comes across as if the goal is to make Will feel as bad as Emory did, to make him jealous of what she’s done. But I don’t see Emory going that low, and I don’t see a reason why she would. So writing something like that is a little difficult for me.

But like I said, if I were to take an honest crack at it, it would probably go something like

- The group is playing one of those truth or drink games (Will is sober so he always picks truth, but likes to all make it interesting by mixing it with like two lies and a truth).

-Emory pulls a card that is like “Reveal Your Body Count” or something and she immediately opts to take the shot. The group laughs it off, thinking it’s just Emory being private.

-Will senses the sudden shift in her mood, though she hides it well. He wonders if it’s the same thing that sting his heart. The reminder of the time they spent apart. The time they wasted not being together.

-It’s quiet on the way home. Will drives without seeing the road, lost in thought.

-Emmy, thinking he’s trying not to obsess over it, quietly whispers, “It’s probably not what you’re thinking.”

-Will looks over, seeing how she’s not making eye contact. He pulls the car over, coming to an abrupt stop that causes Emory to cry out.

-He turns to her and tells her that it doesn’t matter.

-Whatever she did to ease her pain or to enjoy her life, it wouldn’t change anything. Even if it were 50 or 100 or 500 men.  He’ll accept it because he loves who she is, and whatever she had to do to make her who she is.

-Whether she wants him to know, that’s her decision to make. He wants to know everything about her, but he’ll never force her to admit to anything she doesn’t want to. Never again will he put her in that spot.

-He'd tell her every time he remembers all the different women he used trying to forget her, he hates himself more, especially when he knows she’s aware of it. That he ever gave her the idea that someone else could have him the way she has him, causes him so much disgust sometimes he can’t look at himself. That she ever walked into a room and wondered, not if but how many women he’d been with…

-The number doesn’t matter; there isn’t a number high enough to make him hate himself less and there isn’t a number low enough that’ll make him love her more.

-Emory nods, because she didn’t know he still felt that way and maybe that’s for the best. She doesn’t know if telling him the right thing, but they did promise no more secrets between them and maybe it would make things better if he knew.

And because this is my head canon

-She tells him there were a few. She tried, at various times in her life, to see if she could the “normal” college experience, and get over it and move on, but it didn’t work that way. She wasn’t connecting the way she should; like she was there, feeling and seeing everything, but the experience belonged to someone else.

To me, this makes sense for her character; that she’d want a connection to make the moment real. It’s why Aydin went for her head before her heart. Emory connects with her mind, not her body. I think it would probably hurt Will more if he found out she had a close friend she’d been vulnerable with, revealed everything to, who’d been there when she graduated college and got a job and when her grandmother died. All those experiences that he’d never get because he was being stupid. He’s too familiar with the idea that sex can be meaningless, why would her having meaningless sex with some nameless fellows bother him? But anyway –

-She tells him and he’s quiet. Then he nods. Then he puts the car back in Drive, intending to pull away.

-Emory says wait. He looks at her, open and wondering, but not angry. She asks if he has any questions before the topic is closed.

-He pauses, considering. Finally, he looks at her again and says, “The only thing that matters is if they hurt you.”

-Emory’s heart swells, because of course that’s what he’s concerned with.

-“No,” she tells him. “The only thing they did wrong was not being you.”

And that’s how it would go for me. No jealousy, no rage. In my head, Will is already aware of just how much better Emory is than him, he doesn’t need to be reminded.

I also don’t think of his exploits nearly as much as some of the readers seem to. I just don’t care, because he wasn’t committed to Emory. He wasn’t doing anything that he didn’t have the right to do. If he had developed a romantic bond with someone and then Emory came back into his life and he tried to play one or the other, than would be an issue for me. But the way I see it now, Emory connects through her mind. Her developing that type of bond outside of Will would hurt him more. And Will is so causal with sex that him developing a romance outside of Emory would hurt her more. Neither one did that, so this isn’t a sticking point for me.

But I know it is for a lot of people and I don’t feel that my view is any righter than someone else’s. I do hope that a fic writer who wants to undertake that plot point comes in to give the readers what they want. It just won’t be me.

I’m sorry I can’t deliver. I still appreciate you coming to me and asking. Thank you.

-KO

[burinazar]

(mia s2 spoilers)

there was a discussion elsewhere about "how could Vueko possibly quote unquote forget about the curse when she was just discussing it a few hours ago and knows the village was breached?!", which is something people bring up a lot and point at as proof of either bad writing or Vueko being breathtakingly stupid. i held my tongue because historically, non-literal readings aren't received well in certain corners of fandom, and I didn't want to be told i had bad comprehension of a character I've spent far too long analyzing by someone going "uhh, it says she forgot, so she forgot, don't overthink it"

(as a Person Who Will Rarely Accept a Directive to Think Less and also believes fiction can be less than straightforward and characters can be mistaken about their own mind, i'd become uncontrollably snobby in response lol)

i actually think this part is brilliant. (i mean, the part of it that i think is brilliant could be made up by me and wrong -- thinking about the Sages' internality mmmaybe a bit more than Tsukushi himself did at points is a perennial sin of ppl in my cozy little corner of this fandom, lol, but i think there's room for said reading in the text and i don't think it's an accident!) it takes some between-the-lines reading to understand what the hell happened, but it's telegraphed quite well by her character. my take on that has always been:

it seems possible that on a half-conscious level she allowed herself to forget the possibility of the curse entering the village in order to obtain a self-inflicted punishment.

this simply makes sense. Vueko has been waiting to pay for her perceived sins for 150 years. she blames herself for what happened, for not somehow preventing it, overestimating her culpability in the situation. and now it's all coming to an end and she's, what, walking away whole and healthy?

add on that a desire to purposefully die at this point still isn't something she would allow herself to choose consciously. much as she was 'unable to go mad' because this would allow her to escape the reality of the situation instead of fully suffering through it, she would view consciously choosing such a thing (especially when she had just said she didn't want Irumyuui to be forgotten -- isn't it Vueko's duty to carry on and tell her story, then?) as a self indulgence, as escaping a dutiful penance.

and yet. that is her desire. to be punished, to end now as Irumyuui finally ends, the only way they can be together again --

why wouldn't her psyche set her up to die with her child?