#listening to that interview made me kind of anxious so I had to draw them. as one does

[abyssalzones]

uhmm. swap carpet stuff.

#gravity falls #fiddauthor #stanford pines #fiddleford mcgucket #lab creations #caring gradually less and less about what I post publicly as you may be able to tell #listening to that interview made me kind of anxious so I had to draw them. as one does

[tomorrowxtogether]

HUENINGKAI: “Once I like something, I end up liking it for a long time”

TOMORROW X TOGETHER The Name Chapter: TEMPTATION comeback interview

2023.02.08

HUENINGKAI listened closely to each question with his hands neatly folded as if in prayer. He would always nod along as he listened to them, waiting for the very last word to finish before answering. He knows he must wait so that he can fully absorb everything. HUENINGKAI has always waited like this, and he’s waiting now as well—for the roots to take hold, firmer and deeper.

Did you enjoy the photoshoot?

HUENINGKAI: I like Weverse Magazine because it feels new and fresh every time we shoot. Like last time—we were all connected through hands. I liked how this time it captured Neverland in all its dreaminess.

It’s winter, your favorite season. What have you been doing this winter?

HUENINGKAI: I spent Christmas and New Year’s with my family, which was great. I made mini cakes with my sisters. I ate tteokguk on New Year’s, so I’m a year older now. (laughs) I usually get up around seven or eight and go for a morning jog. I like the morning winter air and I don’t really feel the cold. I’m a morning person, so I usually wash up as soon as I get in and sleep, even if work runs late.

You did a Weverse Live with the other members to mark the holidays. You gave a pet rock as your Secret Santa gift, right?

HUENINGKAI: I chose that because I have a pet rock already and wanted another of the members to raise one with me, and then I got BEOMGYU. My pet rock was originally a gift, too. They’re cuter than you think—you can draw a face on them. I’m still raising it—Lionel Mbappé. It’s doing a shoot for a moment so it’s going to be a star soon. (laughs)

It sounds like you did a lot of small but fun things. (laughs) You must have been really busy getting ready for the year-end awards ceremonies.

HUENINGKAI: There was supposed to be a vacation in between, but we all turned it down and practiced the choreography instead. We really wanted to do a good job, so we tried to bump up how often we practiced. You’re always going to feel nervous when you get on stage if you haven’t practiced enough. It makes you anxious. We decided to practice more because we wanted to feel relaxed when we got up on stage. We put on a high-quality performance so I was satisfied with the result. I think it’s particularly amazing that the dance break we did at MMA [Melon Music Awards] managed to contain our whole storyline in just five minutes.

The beginnings of The Name Chapter were at MMA.HUENINGKAI: I really think this new album is our conceptual peak. It brings up the subject of Neverland, so it makes connections to Peter Pan, too. I feel like Neverland would be like the Nightmare version of the concept photos: It seems like a good place at first, but then you realize there’s something ominous about it. It’s like a video game: I like games, and when I have fun playing and hanging out with other people in the game world, I feel like I want to stay there. But it’s a virtual world and it’s not real. There’s stuff to do in the real world, so I’ll enjoy what I can then come back and focus on my work. I felt really happy while shooting the Nightmare version, actually. I liked lying down on the nice, soft floor with all those cute stuffed animals around me. (laughs) How did you interpret the message behind that concept?HUENINGKAI: It’s about deciding to get out and escape from Neverland even in the face of temptation from the devil. The story about that temptation starts with “Devil by the Window.” It’s like saying, Let’s walk down our own path—I mean, I think that’s how we grow up in the end. Even though you’re an adult on the surface, sometimes you’re still tempted to go back to your childhood. Sometimes when I’m up against a wall I think about how I want to return to a time when I just had fun, went home for food and studied. But I’m the kind of person where, if something bad happens, I might hold a little grudge for the day, but I sleep it off and then I’m perfectly fine. (laughs) The other members say that’s something good about me, which I think is a good personality trait for an idol to have. (laughs) What did you do to try and express being tempted in “Devil by the Window”?HUENINGKAI: I tried to sing it as breathily as possible to give it the feeling of the devil whispering. To compare to another artist: Billie Eilish. I have so much fun dancing to it because the song and dance feel like a perfect fit for the concept. I’m currently trying to make facial expressions I’ve never made before. I’ll try to stare at MOA with a mellow look when we’re on stage. The idea of temptation continues into “Sugar Rush Ride.”HUENINGKAI: It wasn’t easy to capture that at first. It’s also about temptation, but it has a different quality from “Devil by the Window,” so I tried not to be too breathy and sing with a little bit of power behind it. And it’s hard to stay in sync for that dance because it just flows with no real clear points of emphasis. So I have a lot of concerns but I’m going to make it work somehow. I don’t think anything would make me happier than putting on a perfect performance of that song.

Is wanting to grow musically another part of wanting to prove yourselves as a group? You set a goal for yourself again this year to increase how much of the music and lyrics you write.HUENINGKAI: I think I’ll still be wanting to increase my proportion after 10 or 20 years even. I don’t have a lot of time to work on it, obviously, but since we’re the ones singing and dancing, I always figure it would be nice if we could have more of our own words on the albums. You couldn’t achieve all your goals for last year, but you got the most important one done: seeing MOA.HUENINGKAI: The pandemic kept us apart for way too long. We should have been able to come around sooner and I thought it was amazing they somehow managed to hold out for three whole years. I felt really regretful and sorry. It’s really important for us to see MOA and get that energy from them, too. It wasn’t until we saw them that I truly felt like I’m a real singer. You said in another interview with Weverse Magazine back in 2020 that when you finally met them, you wanted to yell out the group greeting at the top of your lungs, dance like never before and sing “Sweat” as the encore.HUENINGKAI: Nailed it! I guess everything worked out, then. For me, the encores were the most memorable part of the concerts. I was running out of energy at that point but that part was so exciting and fun, and we could see MOA right up close and personal. I actually remember being clearly exhausted by the end of the performance at the beginning of the tour, but after doing it awhile, I got used to it. It’s like how cardio is so hard at first but after you build up your strength you can go faster and run more. It’s the same sort of thing on stage. Being that energetic and then doing “Sweat,” which is the real final song, it’s always just touching. MOA always has something prepared, too, so it’s new every time. You sang “Our Summer” as an additional encore in Manila, the last stop on the tour.HUENINGKAI: It was a pity to tour in the summer and not have “Our Summer” on the set list so it was a spontaneous final gift. (laughs) The tour allowed me to experience all kinds of things and improve myself by another step. We’re touring again in the spring. We tried to go back out as soon as possible, just like we promised! We’re going back out so soon because of how much we want to see MOA. There’s an amazing set list waiting, so look out for that. How has your relationship with MOA changed over time?HUENINGKAI: I think we actually became closer during the pandemic. It made us miss each other even more. My self-esteem improved during the tour thanks to MOA and I was so excited and grateful to see them every time. Well, duh! I’m happiest when I’m on stage and dancing for MOA. (laughs)

What else makes you happy these days, whether big or small?HUENINGKAI: Yogurt ice cream? These days it’s when I eat ice cream late at night or something else sweet at night. I’m happiest when I’m having dessert. Forget meals—I’m on Team Dessert. (laughs) That reminds me of when you said, “I live life feeling satisfied every day. Every day’s five out of five, and if I feel a little let down, it’s just a little lower.”HUENINGKAI: When I feel a little down, all I have to do is eat something sweet and I’m back in business! I’m usually okay after sleeping even if I had a rough day, so it’s not hard to have five-point days. Zen—like, no thoughts, head empty, as much as I can, calmly and with positivity. (laughs) Do hoodies, stuffed animals and anime still make you as happy as before?HUENINGKAI: Of course. Those are still my favorite things in life and nothing about that has changed. What’s your secret for holding onto that feeling so long?HUENINGKAI: I think it’s just in my nature. Once I like something, I end up liking it for a long time. My feelings don’t wane that easily. I guess you could say my love toward them is great from the start. Has there ever been a time you ended up liking something later despite your first impressions?HUENINGKAI: As far as music goes, I’d say “Good Boy Gone Bad.” I like every track off our albums but I think having a good lead single every time is our specialty. To be honest, when I first heard “Good Boy Gone Bad,” I felt like something was different suddenly and it wasn’t my style, so I had a hard time accepting it. But after we did it on stage, it felt exciting and I had fun with it. I warmed up to it when I realized people who like it would probably really like it.

When it comes to TOMORROW X TOGETHER, you can transcend your own tastes. Where does your affection towards the group come from?HUENINGKAI: The other members, of course. If we go on stage feeling resolved beforehand, I can really feel the difference in the performance. It makes me feel really enthusiastic when we yell, “Fighting!” together and go out there. They’re passionate and ambitious people and I think doing it with them makes me ready to keep moving forward and take on the challenge. You can’t really climb up higher and higher if you keep running away. I think being an idol means having to put up with things to some degree and I think it’s important for me to be active. When TAEHYUN said, “We chose to do this job, so we have to try and reach the very top no matter what, don’t you think?” I thought, Wow, he’s absolutely right. We have to keep going until the end. You mentioned that TAEHYUN’s had an influence on your MBTI changing from ENFP to ISTP.HUENINGKAI: I hear about what he’s thinking a lot since we’re roommates, so I think I naturally came to understand him. That must be how we both ended up as Ts. (laughs) There’s times when it’s good to look at things rationally and I used to be an F so I think my strong point is that I can understand both sides. It’s pretty amazing how I completely changed from ENFP. I was really emotional even as recently as when I was a trainee. I even cried a lot back then but I’ve become a little more rational since debuting. What caused your personality to change?HUENINGKAI: I think being so busy during my trainee years and after the debut slowly dulled my capacity to express my emotions. I thought about going home in the early days of trainee life because it was so hard sometimes, but after a few years I learned to just accept it. So sometimes I feel bad lately when I’m having a hard time and I say that to the other members. We’re all working together and all have hard times and I don’t want to pass my troubles on to them. When you said that, “as the youngest member, I want to be a reassuring presence” for the others, was that born out of the same feeling?HUENINGKAI: I wasn’t grown up yet when I was a trainee and I was so childish (laughs) so I don’t think I really earned much trust from the other members. Even after we debuted, I still thought about how I wanted to gain their trust. But now that we’ve been living under the same roof together, we’re just like family. I’ve been waking up to YEONJUN’s face right in front of mine ever since we were trainees. (laughs) Now, even if one of us feels like giving up, the other four can keep things moving along and help each other out. You always emphasize how important it is that you achieve things together.HUENINGKAI: We’re a team and it’s important that we’re all doing a good job together. That’s how we show the real TOMORROW X TOGETHER. If even one of us isn’t giving it their all, it isn’t TOMORROW X TOGETHER, I don’t think. I also picture us in the future together, reaching the top the way the BTS members have. And I hope our members will be happy after that. Honestly, I think their happiness is top priority. I just want them to be happy because I know how hard they work.

On Weverse Live, TAEHYUN said, “Do you want to plant a tree in the spring?” You replied, “I think I’ll be a little sad whenever the tree grows. If 20 years passes and I see the tree grew, I think I’d feel so proud. Proud, yet sentimental.” What made you feel that way?

HUENINGKAI: I think because I would feel time passing by. I feel like I’m still a fairly new artist, and if I saw that tree growing, I’d think, Wow, it’s already been that long. Time really flies.

You said you were sad when Ash became the Pokémon champion, too.

HUENINGKAI: I was already showing my true colors when I was little (laughs) and I liked the anime ever since I was a kid so it made me sad to hear someone I spent so much time with would be retiring. I looked it up and Ash and Conan are the two longest-running main characters. While the main character kept changing in other shows, Pokémon’s always been Ash. In the context of the story, the fate of everyone who becomes champion is they end up retiring somehow. I already knew it was going to end that way, but it’s still really sad. It’s just like it would feel looking at a tree if we planted it—sentimental and moving.

At least Ash must be happy. (laughs)

HUENINGKAI: Because he became the very best. Now we can reach the top, just like Ash did.

#txt #tomorrow x together #230208 #weverse magazine #hueningkai #huening kai #The Name Chapter #The Name Chapter: TEMPTATION

[in-love-with-darth-vader]

Star Wars as if it were like the Office! (Also i need a title, so if anyone has any ideas for that or any suggestions in general, let me know.

Also, sorry if this sucks. I don’t write very often nor have I ever written a screenplay type of thing before. I honestly just did this for fun!

PART 1

“Anakin, what are you doing?”

“I’m standing on the edge of this balcony.”

“Yes, I can see that. Why are you standing on the edge of that balcony?”

*pan to the chaos of Coruscant below; ships speeding in traffic, huge buildings, and an insanely long drop. Obi-Wan is standing behind Anakin on the part of the balcony that’s made to be stood on; Anakin is on the edge of the railing*

“Uh, well, some of the clones said there was no way that I could jump and land in one of the ships flying through the city, and I told them I definitely could, so here I am.”

*Obi-Wan looks to the camera in annoyance and disbelief; camera pans down to Anakin’s end point where Fives, Echo, and Jesse wave up to his position*

“Absolutely not. Get down from there right this instant!”

“Sorry, Master!”

*he jumps, and he is flying through the air for about two seconds when he suddenly freezes. Obi-Wan is looking down at him as he holds him mid air with the Force, slowly raising him back up to eye level*

“Anakin, you are twenty years old. Could you maybe start acting like it?”

*he drops him onto the floor; Anakin gets up and sulkingly follows Obi-Wan out of the room*

*this would be where the theme song and title card would go*

In the background: “yeah, so Obi-Wan refused to let me jump, so I had to come back here. Sorry you all waited for nothing”

*Obi-Wan turns to the camera*

So, does Anakin do this sort of thing frequently?

“Oh, yes. He doesn’t seem to care about safety or his own well-being. That’s the third time this month I’ve had to stop the Balcony Jump. And clearly I’m the only one who thinks these are bad ideas, so I’m always the one who has to step in. I swear I already have a few grey hairs from having to stop Anakin from doing something stupid so often.”

*back to normal scene*

“Alright, everyone gather around, we have a new mission to discuss.”

*anakin, ahsoka, and many of the clones from the 501st and 212th gather around Obi-Wan*

“The chancellor seems to think it’s a good idea for us to go investigate a possible takeover on Ryloth….” *fades out as we zoom in on Anakin clearly bored and not listening*

“I hate debriefings. When Obi-Wan does them he talks for forever. They’re too long, so I just tune him out and pretend like I know what I’m doing on the actual mission. When I tell the others what we’ve been assigned, I take 2 minutes tops. Master Obi-Wan stretches it into at least 10.”

*now to ahsoka*

“Yeah, Master Kenobi goes over every single detail in the mission log every single time. I’ve had to slap Anakin awake in the middle of a meeting too many times to count.”

*back to obi wan speaking to them all*

“So, we need to go in and investigate the distress signal’s purpose, mainly to see if it’s a separatist attack. Anakin, you’ll be positioned here and you’ll direct your troops to-Anakin?? Are you listening to me?”

*obi wan turns away from his whiteboard where he’s drawing out strategy to see Anakin staring slightly up at the ceiling. Anyone else wouldn’t have noticed, but Obi wan knows his past-padawan turned Jedi Knight too well*

“What? Oh, yeah, of course I am.”

*interview with obi wan*

“Anakin is a terrible liar. You’ll soon find that out.”

*switch to interview with Anakin*

“Luckily for me, I’m an amazing liar, so I’m not worried.”

*back to the scene. Obi-Wan has his hands on his hips in his judgmental pose™️ facing Anakin*

“Oh really? Then what did I just tell you to do?”

“Uhhh I have to hold my position, lead the 501st, all that jazz”

“Mhm and where is this all going down?”

“Uh, Iridonia of course.”

“You literally could not be more incorrect.”

*obi wan int.*

“Told you so.”

*anakin int.*

“Okay, in my defense, there’s thousands of planets. I had like a 1% chance of guessing correctly.”

*back to the scene*

“Ryloth, Anakin. Ryloth is where we’re going. A distress call was detected coming from the planet, and since the Separatists have a history of meddling with the peace of Ryloth and its citizens, we were instructed to go inspect. I will not repeat myself again. That is all, everyone get ready. You’re dismissed.”

*interview with Rex; clones preparing armor and weapons in the background*

So, are you kind of like the leader of the clones around here?

“Uh, I’m the captain of the 501st Battalion under General Skywalker’s command. I follow his orders and then lead my brothers to execute those orders. We’re one of the most successful groups of clones, so I take great pride in-“

*rex is interrupted as the camera switches focus to the background where Jesse Kix and Fox are all at each other’s throats. They’re stealing each other’s helmets and tossing them around. Rex turns to look*

(Sigh) “as I was saying…I take great pride in our success and professionalism.”

“Rex!”

“Sorry, gotta go do my job now.”

*they board the ships and head off to Ryloth*

*camera switches to Anakin on Ryloth*

“Can we please leave now?”

“Absolutely not, Anakin. We still aren’t quite certain what set off the alarm.”

“It was probably just an accident. There’s nothing here, Master. Ahsoka, back me up.”

*ahsoka is looking down at and messing with a data pad clearly not listening to Anakin*

“What? Oh, uh, yeah. Totally.”

“Were you even listening to me?! I was speaking to you, Ahsoka. Can I get a little bit of respect please?”

*obi wan looks at the camera like ‘are you fucking kidding me’*

“Listen, Master, I started to tune you out like an hour ago. All you’ve done is complain.”

“Because there’s nothing here! I want to go home!”

“You just want to get back to Coruscant in time to go to that party for the senators.”

“What??????!?!?? That’s absurd, master. Absolutely preposterous. I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

*cut to Anakin*

“Okay, I know exactly what he’s talking about, but I can’t admit it! There’s this politician gathering tonight and normally I wouldn’t be one to willingly seek out social gatherings-especially one full of politicians-but Padme is going and she asked if I would come. So of course I said yes. Also, they usually have those little cocktail weenies, so no way I’m missing that.”

*cut to obi wan*

“Anakin is terrible at hiding things, especially from me. He clearly wants to get back so he can go to the party tonight with Senator Amidala.”

Any reason why he’d want to go with her so bad?

“Oh, yes, you see my former Padawan thinks he’s sly, but as we all know he’s a terrible liar. He’s been pining after the senator since he was a boy. I assumed it would pass by now, but clearly he’s still infatuated with her. They’re very good friends but he still has his teenage crush on her. It’s very unprofessional.”

Will you be attending it as well?

“Oh, no. I’m not one for politics.”

*back to the scene*

“What? Master why are you going to that stupid thing? You hate those types of parties! Plus, last I checked, you are not a politician.”

*cut to Anakin*

“So I’ve never actually told Ahsoka about my secret relationship with Padmé…”

*back to the scene*

“Uhhhhh because I’m good friends with the Chancellor, obviously. He would like me there to….to talk about strategies. Yes. Strategies for the Republic.”

“At a formal gathering for politicians? That doesn’t even make any sense!”

“...you’re asking way too many questions, Snips. We have a mission to focus on! You’re better than this!”

*ahsoka looks suspiciously at him as obi wan shakes his head at the two of them*

“Now that you’re done bickering, will you two please go explore the blocked off caverns for any possible signs of life?”

*both, simultaneously and clearly annoyed*

“Yes, Master.”

——-

“You know, there’s nothing in these caves. He just wanted us out of his hair. He’s just keeping us busy.”

“How can you know for sure?”

“Because I don’t sense anything. There’s nothing in here.”

“Master Kenobi told us to do it, so that’s what we’re gonna do.”

“So you listen to all of his orders but not mine?”

“Well, Obi-Wan doesn’t lie to me, so yes.”

“Psh. Pssshh. I’m not lying to you...that’s ridiculous.”

“It’s not. Tell me the real reason you’re going to that party! I know that you’re lying!”

“I’m absolutely telling the truth. I don’t know why you’re so adamant about this. It doesn’t mean anything.”

“Oh please. Whenever you lie you start using big words and you talk faster than normal. Just tell me the truth!”

“Fine. My friend Senator Amidala was allowed to bring someone and since we’re friends she asked me if I would like to come along too. So I said yes.”

“That wasn’t so hard, was it? Makes sense why you’re so anxious about it.”

“Whatta you mean?”

“Oh, nothing, it’s just that you’re going to a party as the Senator’s plus one which she asked you to. It’s definitely a date.”

“Whaaaaaaaatt. It’s not a date. That’s ludicrous! We’re just friends. Plus, I’m a Jedi. We can’t go on dates!”

“Right, and you don’t have a crush on her.”

“I don’t have a crush on her! We’re friends! It’s extremely platonic.”

*int. With Anakin*

“Okay, so it’s not platonic. But I don’t have a crush on her because I’m married to her! If I tell her that I willingly break the Jedi Code whenever I want, then maybe she will too! And then what kind of Master would I be?!?!”

I thought you technically weren’t a Jedi Master.

*zooms in on anakin’s ‘I will fuckin kill you’ face”

*back to the scene*

“Right, and I don’t secretly steal your jackets when you’re sleeping when I’m cold.”

“What?”

“What?!”

“.....look, can we just get back to the mission?”

“Sure thing, Skyguy. Wait till Master Kenobi hears about this.”

*under his breath* “pretty sure he already knows...”

*scene switch to obi wan, he’s with Cody and many other clones. They’re in a room in one of the government buildings on Ryloth surrounding a beacon device. It’s a distress signal activator.*

“And you’re sure you didn’t do this, Mr. Syndulla?”

“No, Master Kenobi. I only use the distress beacon for serious emergencies. I have no clue as to who did this. There aren’t many people that have access, and it’s not something that just anyone can do by accident. You must enter a code and confirm multiple times.”

“Thank you for the information. Will you let us inspect the fortress for any intruders?”

“Yes, of course.”

“Thank you. Cody, take Waxer, Boil, and Gearshift to the west wing. Gregor, you and your troops take the left. Myself and Crys will start here. Report back if you find anything.”

“Sir yes sir!”

*we see Obi-Wan and Crys searching first. They stayed in the room where the beacon is kept. Obi-Wan is looking through digital records as Crys is underneath it looking at its internal parts like those scenes where someone is laying on a skateboard to fix a car*

“This is strange. There’s no trace of tampering with the records or files. Nothing was wiped. This doesn’t seem like sabotage or a distraction for something bigger. Crys, do you have anything?”

*crys rolls out from under the beacon*

“No, sir. Everything is wired and hooked up properly. No signs of sabotage or demolition.”

“Hmm.”

*Int. With Crys*

“I’m really good with robots and droids, so that’s probably why General Kenobi wanted me to tag along with him. Usually he takes Cody, but this is more of my field of expertise.”

*back to the scene*

“This is trivial indeed.” *he’s doing his beard stroke* “I wonder if the others have found anything.”

*switch over to gregor and his troops. They’re searching the left wing of the fortress. They’ve been interviewing many citizens of Ryloth. They’re not very successful*

“I don’t see the point in talking to anyone else. I doubt they’re gonna know anything. We should report back to the general.”

*int with Gregor*

So, Gregor, can you give us a little summary of what you do around here?

“Yeah, sure thing. Uh, I’m kind of like third in command here. I’m a captain in the 212th Battalion and that’s pretty much all there is to it.”

Your helmet is very interesting. It’s pretty unique compared to the rest of your brothers.

“Oh, this? Some clones have tallies, but these represent stitches.” *he points to em* “It’s basically just showing how many injuries I’d have and how many stitches I would’ve gotten if I didn’t have the helmet. I think it’s pretty cool.”

*back to the scene. They’ve found nothing*

“Yeah, I’ll comm the general.”

*gregor taps into his comms and contacts Obi-Wan*

“Gregor, have you found anything?”

“No, general, I called to report that we’ve found nothing out of place. The twi’leks we’ve interviewed seem like they know nothing. How about you?”

“No, sadly we’ve come across nothing either. The beacon hasn’t been tampered with whatsoever.”

“We’ll keep looking around. I’ll keep you updated.”

*he hangs up the comm*

“Alright, boys, let’s keep going!”

*we now cut to Waxer and Boil being lead by Cody. They’re going door to door in the right wing where the rooms are located asking questions*

“This is leading us nowhere, Commander.”

“I know, Boil, but General Kenobi told us to inspect the entire right wing. We only have three more rooms to do. Let’s go.”

“Fine.”

*they knock at the next door*

“Hello?”

“Hello, ma’am. My name is Commander Cody of the 212th Attack Battalion. We’re on a mission here from the Jedi council. The distress beacon gave off a signal earlier today and we were wondering if you knew anything about it.”

“I’m very sorry I can’t be of any help to you, Commander, but I know nothing.”

*suddenly, a small child comes running down the hallway laughing. She trips and falls and scrapes her knee.*

“hey, are you okay?”

“Waxer you know that’s not how you talk to a child!”

“I’m sorry! You know I get awkward around kids. Why do we always find a runaway child when we’re on Ryloth? Like, how has this actually happened twice?”

*boil ignores him and kneels down to the kid*

“Hey there. My name is Boil. Are you okay? Do you need help?”

*she looks a bit frightened still. Boil realizes he still has his helmet on so he takes it off.*

“Sorry about that. Is it okay if I patch up your knee? I keep bandages on me, you can even pick the color if you want.”

“...okay. Blue please.”

“Blue it is. So, why were you running so fast? Is anything chasing you?”

“No. I was just looking for my papa. And I’m bored. I played with his fun machine today.”

“His machine, huh?”

*the three clones look at each other with a look™️ and Cody comms obi wan*

“General? I think we found your culprit”

——————

“‘Wow Anakin, you’re such a genius. It’s almost as if you were right all along!’ ‘Why thank you, Master. I knew I was right, and now we can go home even though we could’ve earlier.’ ‘Yes, you’re so right. We should’ve listened to you the whole time-“

“Anakin, are you finished?”

“‘we should make you a master on the council. I admire you.’ Now I’m finished.”

“Oh, give it a rest, Master. We get it, you’re right, now let’s get you home for your date.”

*anakin freezes and turns slowly. They’ve been walking up the ramp to board their ship when ahsoka said that. Anakin is now very red in the face*

“....what. What are you talking about snips??!! I don’t have a date. I don’t date. I’m just attending a senator party with the Chancellor. A date. Psh. Psh.”

“But you told me-“

“LETS GET ON THE SHIP, AHSOKA!”

*obi wan just rolls his eyes as they board the ship*

*We’re back to Coruscant!*

“Finally, we’re home. I’m so tired from all the nothing we did.”

“Oh, Anakin, you are such a drama queen. We did our mission like we were supposed to. Now, can I please speak to you in private?”

“Yes, Master.”

“Even though you have complained a lot today, I still care about you Anakin, and I know you made a promise to someone else already. So, I will go inform the Jedi Council that this was a false alarm by myself. Maybe I’ll take your Padawan. But you, my friend, should go get ready for your senator party.”

*anakin hugs obi wan*

“Thank you, Obi-Wan. I owe you one.”

*anakin goes up to his apartment on Coruscant where Padme is; she’s on their couch reading something and already dressed when anakin comes in*

“I’m back! I’m finally back!”

“Hello to you too Anakin. I was hoping they’d let you out. You’re cutting it close this time.”

“I’m so sorry. We had to go to Ryloth for no reason and Obi-Wan wouldn’t let me leave until we knew for sure what happened.”

“Well, I’m glad you made it in time.”

“Me too. Obi-Wan is letting me skip the debriefing for this.”

*he goes to change into his formal clothes for the party. Padme is already wearing one of her super rad fancy senator outfits. Anakin has an all black suit cause you know he’s that guy™️.

*int with Padme*

“Anakin has missed a lot of these outings with me due to Jedi business, so I wasn’t expecting him to actually be here for this one. I’m glad he is. I don’t see him as often as I wish I did.”

Do you ever think of asking him to leave the Jedi Order then?

“Oh, no. Absolutely not. I would never ask him to give up his life like that. And I don’t want that either. He’s a great Jedi and he loves what he does. I would never try to take that away from him.”

*back to scene. Now they’re walking down the halls of the senate building on their way to the party*

“So, get this, Ahsoka is convinced that I have a crush on you and that this is a date.”

“I mean, she’s not exactly wrong, is she?”

“Well, no, but I don’t really have a crush on you since, you know, we’re married. And she meant date as in ‘you invited me to this thing but we’re not together but in her eyes, it’s a date’ kind of thing.”

“Hmm so she still doesn’t know?”

“No. I can’t bring myself to tell her. I love her, but I don’t want to taint her mind and views of the Jedi Code and council. It wouldn’t be fair.”

“A very good point. You’re a good Master, Anakin.”

“Thanks.”

*they then enter the party. Many political figures from across the galaxy are there already. Its purpose is unknown to us, but it is clear that it’s important but also not too serious. They speak with many different people included Palpatine. We have yet to actually speak to him yet. Anakin is eventually over near the snack table, a drink in his hand and another one being handed off to Padme*

“Here you go. It’s your favorite.”

“Thank you. So, are you having fun yet?”

“Well, I don’t think I’ll ever have fun hanging around any politicians but you, but it’s not so bad. Plus, these snacks are really good.”

*padme rolls her eyes but laughs at him*

“It’s nice for us all to get together like this. It’s important for the Republic.”

“Mm, indeed.”

*they continue chatting until Anakin notices someone across the room. Fancy blue outfit. Blonde hair up in a bun. He doesn’t notice who it really is until she comes a bit closer. He does the pikachu face and drops his drink, luckily catching it midair with the force as he apologizes to those around him*

“Anakin?? Are you okay? What was that for?”

“You didn’t tell me she was going to be here!”

“Who?”

*he points to her by nudging his head in her direction hoping Padme will see who he’s talking about*

“Her? That’s my friend Satine. She’s the Duchess of Mandalore. She’s-wait a minute, how do you know her??!?”

“Nothing bad, I assure you. I’m actually quite fond of her. I just wish I knew sooner!”

“Why?”

“Because that, my love, is Obi-Wan’s girlfriend.”

END of this part.

Part2

——

#star wars #star wars prequels #star wars the clone wars #the clone wars #tcw #anakin skywalker #obi wan kenobi #padme amidala #captain rex #fic #fanfic #star wars fic #satine kryze #anidala #obitine

[hatari-translations]

Dancer interview on A Song Called Hate - translation

This interview in Fréttablaðið, published the day after the premiere of A Song Called Hate (but taken before it), features Andrean, Sólbjört and Ástrós discussing the film, their experiences in Israel and Palestine, the stress of the spotlight, and their passion for human rights.

A difficult reckoning after Eurovision

Andrean Sigurgeirsson, Ástrós Guðjónsdóttir and Sólbjört Sigurðardóttir, the dancers of the band Hatari, say the premiere of the documentary *A Song Called Hate*, which was shown at Reykjavík International Film Festival last night, brings mixed feelings. The film is about Hatari's participation in Eurovision 2019 and the controversial placement of the contest.

As the nation knows, Hatari went to Tel Aviv on Iceland's behalf last year and caused a kerfuffle by holding up banners with the colors of the Palestinian flag on the live broadcast on the night of the finals. "I still avoid thinking about the final night and the feelings I was experiencing," says Sólbjört, who believes she had a nervous breakdown that night.

"It was really hard being out there and I was afraid I'd never see my child again and couldn't get home." The experience of irrational anxious thoughts was synonymous with the stay in Israel. "That's why it's been uncomfortable to think about."

Processing the experience

The dancers are all still processing the experience of the trip. "I realized later that I'd disconnected from my emotions just to get through what we were doing."

Andrean agrees and says he's still taking in this test of endurance. "I think there's a certain group of people that only see the glamour shots and don't know how difficult this has been for us, both emotionally and professionally as artists."

Ástrós is the only one who has seen the documentary from beginning to end, but the others say they haven't been able to bring themselves to watch it yet. "I've only seen a fraction of it and it tore open all these difficult feelings," says Sólbjört, who preferred to be surprised by it in the arms of friends and family.

"It was uncomfortable looking back. There's still so much you're processing and have been avoiding thinking about for some time," Ástrós muses. She says it was strange to experience these things again from the outside. "But it also gives you a good distance from what happened."

All eyes on them

When it was clear that Hatari would go to Israel, the artistic team became the center of the media and public discourse in Iceland in one fell swoop. "It happened so fast, all eyes were on us and you got scared of making some misstep," Andrean admits.

Everyone had an opinion on the act, and friends, acquaintances and strangers were divided, for or against, participation or boycott. Andrean thinks people don't necessarily realize how difficult it is to be the target of so many opinions. "You just get so confused and want to listen to everyone and please everyone, but still trust your own beliefs and sense of justice."

Wanted to fight this battle

Sólbjört and Andrean both went out with the aim of unveiling the whitewashed image that Israel had drawn up of the contest. "You decide to fight this battle, and then you become aware of how your friends and loved ones also have opinions, which don't necessarily rhyme with your own," says Andrean. Even within the group there were arguments about the best way to support Palestine. "We wanted the cause to be in the foreground, and there were endless back-and-forths about what would be the best way to do that," Sólbjört adds.

"Most of us really wanted to see it up on stage, but of course that never would've been seen because of the playback [delay], so we decided to act when we were live for real," says Andrean. They did the best they could in the situation. "We waited and waited for the camera to be on us and then finally we got that chance towards the end of the televote points."

Sólbjört says she was terrified that night, and in fact for the entire trip. Nonetheless, she never doubted fighting for the cause, even if sometimes her emotions took over.

Privilege blindness gone

Ástrós had a somewhat different experience from the other dancers. "I'd been to Israel before, and didn't originally go for the cause, but for the trip and getting to work with them." But once they were out there, her purpose changed, after the team traveled around Palestine.

"When we visited the refugee camp in Bethlehem, there was some transformation within me." People told stories of their lives, and it made Ástrós think. "I couldn't help thinking about the injustice of these women having to give birth in dirty alleys, while we have all this privilege back home."

As the youngest member of the group, Ástrós had never had to face her privilege before. "It really cut me deep how unfair it was that I'd been born into this white privilege and had never even had to think about human rights as a question." When she looks back, the feelings come flooding back. "Number one, two and three, I just re-experience how unjust the situation is out there," she says, visibly emotional.

Forced people to see

But it wasn't only Ástrós who learned from this experience; the whole group experienced the importance of foregrounding the Palestinian struggle in the contest. "That was the reason we participated in Eurovision and the reason we made this movie," says Sólbjört.

Andrean agrees. "I've always been an activist at heart and fight passionately for human rights to be respected and human dignity to be upheld."

Despite a blend of good, bad and horrible days, the three of them don't regret taking part. "It forced people to see what was being hidden, and that's why it was worth it," says Ástrós.

It raised awareness and pushed people to take a stance on an issue that would otherwise have been easy to ignore. "It also got various activist organizations to consider if this is a good way to create a conversation about big issues." Andrean feels art is often underestimated on that stage. "Art gets people to think outside the box, and I think the union of activism and art worked out well in this context."

Sent the singers to their rooms

The dancers also hope it's clear that all of the group's decisions were taken as a group. Even though the band was the face of the team, all voices were heard. "People varied in how radical their ideas were," says Andrean, who fought strongly for the waving of the banners.

"I really remember how I'd stuck the flags under my underwear and in my socks and I thought everyone had." That turned out not to be the case and Andrean had to send the singers back to their rooms to get their banners. "It was kind of a circus at times."

The constant presence of the camera also disrupted things to some extent. "We could never be alone, we were constantly being watched," says Ástrós. As a result, sometimes they had to repress their emotions. "The focus was on supporting the fight for human rights and showing what it was like, more than taking care of our mental health and our soul as a group."

The fight is not over

Personal conflicts within and without the group are not the main subject of the documentary. "I think people will be surprised that it's not just about us and the drama around Eurovision, but a much bigger and wider-scope problem," says Sólbjört. The film is largely about the oppression that comes with daily life in Palestine. "What I learned from this, and hope others see too, is that human rights matter for everyone, always, and it's not justifiable to look the other way," says Ástrós firmly.

The premiere of the film marks a certain reckoning with this time, among the dancers and the others on the team. "We're still in contact with Palestinian artists who plan to come to Iceland when the situation allows, so perhaps this is the end of one chapter and the beginning of another."

Hatari's act didn't stop the bombing of Gaza or the illegal settlements in Palestine, but opened the door for conversations and collaboration. "Even though this act is at an end, human rights are still being trampled in Palestine and we hope people continue to be aware of it and take a stand." The fight isn't over. "We just hope the film continues to draw attention to it."

#hatari #a song called hate #andrean sigurgeirsson #sólbjört sigurðardóttir #ástrós guðjónsdóttir #interview #translation #politics

[wendimydarling]

Can’t Help Falling in Love with You (Sound)

Title: Can’t Help Falling in Love

Summary:  Sight | Scent | Sound | Touch | Taste

Pairing: Henry x First Person Reader

Word Count: 795

A/N: I am attempting the senses challenge that @viking-raider​ just completed not too long ago. Find her work here! I’m doing it a little differently, each snippet will add a new filter to the same scene instead of lengthening it, if that makes sense. I live for comments, let me know your favorite part!

~~~~~~~~ Sound ~~~~~~~~

The leaves in the branches brushed each other quietly in the breeze, creating a soft, ambient, background track to the scene laid out before us. I could hear the long draw of cicadas, indicating the peak of summer. A couple of birds were flitting above us, chattering animatedly about something or other. Henry’s steady breaths entered my ear as he lay next to me; every now and then his throat would constrict and the air from his lungs would stroke his vocal chords in such a way that a small, endearing grunt would pass his lips. Further away, I could hear the waves from the lake crashing against the dock and it reminded me of our swim. 

Henry had wrestled me into the water, laughing at my screeches of protest. His laugh was otherworldly, deep and rich and full of life. It was infectious; once you heard it you couldn’t help but laugh with him. All my cares seemed to melt away at the melody of his mirth, and I made it my mission to hear that sound whenever I could. We were alone; our playful banter bounced off the blue expanse of the lake, uninhibited by other residents.

“No, Henry, No!”

“You’re going in, love… the moment I catch you!”

“Oh my god, Hank, I swear. You throw me in and you can walk hoooooooome!”

He’d swung me over his shoulders and beaten, I was unceremoniously thrown off the dock, that beautiful laugh the last thing I heard before being submersed. All sound was severed as my body was baptized, and the world around me took on a completely different wavelength; I closed my eyes to listen. I heard the muffled splash of Henry following me, the rush of water as his hands pushed against its resistance, and his chuckle resonated through my insides as the surrounding liquid magnified the sound. The momentary pause in time was broken as I surfaced, normalcy of life returning to my ears. Water against water, water against skin, skin against skin; this was war.

Drying off under the tree, I had soft music playing on my phone, and time seemed to stand still as we lay there reading. The rustle of my book pages as I flipped through them reminded me of ASMR, and I shivered as goosebumps crawled over my arms. The song changed, an old romantic croon given a modern take by a newer artist. I sang along quietly, my soft soprano floating into the air like gentle spirals of smoke. 

“Like the river flows surely to the sea,  Darling, so it goes, some things are meant to be.”

“Here, you dog-earred this one,” Henry says, and I stop singing to look at him. The book he’s reading is my collection of poems by Robert Frost that he likes to borrow when he’s visiting. He begins to read, and instantly his baritone draws me in.

“The line-storm clouds fly tattered and swift,     The road is forlorn all day,  Where a myriad snowy quartz stones lift,     And the hoof-prints vanish away.  The roadside flowers, too wet for the bee,     Expend their bloom in vain.  Come over the hills and far with me,     And be my love in the rain.”

I could immerse myself in that voice for hours. The same as his laugh, it’s deep and full and round. If he discusses anything he’s passionate about, it becomes very animated and the pitch changes rapidly, but there’s also a steady calmness about it that never fluctuates. When I’m anxious or I’ve had a bad day, I’ll snuggle in close and ask him to teach me about something. His voice is low, with a gravelly undertone, and is instantly relaxing. When he discovered that I have trouble at night when he’s gone and I listen to online interviews of his in order to sleep, he recorded my favorite book on tape so that I wouldn’t have to deal with commercials or other people interrupting. His kindness knows no bounds.

Henry finished the poem and I audibly hummed in appreciation, causing him to look my way. He catches me staring at his body and grins.

“Like what you see?” he teases, humor in his tone.

“Shut up,” I sass back before leaning down to kiss him. The tiny pip of soft lips meeting evolves slowly into the erotic smack of mouth on mouth, it’s steady beat blending with soft moans and heavy sighs to create an enchanting aria of happiness, of peace. Breathless gasps replace the song as we pull away, contented expressions on both our faces. I hear the dull thump of his hand connecting with my back as I return to my book, the score of summer once again lulling me into a euphoric state of mind.

~~~~~~~~

Fan Club: @littlefreya​ @sciapod​ @thiccgeralt​ @fucking-hell-cavill​ @brexrif​ @peakygroupie​ @viking-raider​ @constip8merm8​ @daniig95​ @elinalfrida​ @hell1129-blog​ @oddsnendsfanfics​ @agniavateira​ @dearlybelovedluke​ @sofiebstar​ @wanderinglunarnights​ @mary-ann84​ @onceiwasanun​ @luclittlepond​ @thekingstachemademedoit​ @onceiwasanun​ @iloveyouyen​ @lestersglitterglue​ @funnygirlthatgab​ @wondersofdreaming​

#henry cavill #henrycavill #henry cavill fluff #henry cavill imagine #henry cavill fic #writing prompt #writing prompts #writing exercise #writing challenge #senses challenge #senses #sound

[quickspinner]

Killer Combo - Ch 3 Home-field Advantage

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 Epilogue | Bonus Tidbits | ART inspired by this story! | AO3 | Fiction Master Post

Marinette spent the morning of the day Luka was supposed to come over working in the bakery, helping her mother pack up purchases and prepare orders for pickup, which at least had the advantage of keeping her too busy to fret over the cute boy coming to spend the afternoon in her room and the many embarrassing things that had happened the last time something like this had happened. She’d been so absorbed in what she was doing that she didn’t realize he’d arrived until she turned around, her arms full of loaded bakery boxes, and nearly screeched and dropped them all at the sight of him. 

Luka was quick, putting a hand on the top box to keep it from sliding off and catching a corner of the lower one to stop its dip towards the ground. He steadied the stack until Marinette got a grip, on both her wits and the boxes. “Woah, sorry,” he grinned. “Didn’t mean to startle you.” 

“You didn’t,” she blurted, and then winced, face burning. “Well. Obviously you did, but it wasn’t your fault, my brain was on another planet or something. Give me just a minute to finish this order and I’ll be right with you.”

“Sure.” Luka stepped back with a good-humored smile, and Marinette turned to set the boxes on the counter for her mother, who was ringing up the order.   

“Thanks for the help, dear,” Sabine smiled. “I can handle the rest. Better get your friend upstairs before your father sees him. You know how he is.” Sabine gave Luka an apologetic smile. “He gets a little, uh...enthusiastic, when Marinette brings new friends over.”

Luka chuckled. “He can’t be much worse than my mom.”

“Yes, he can,” Marinette groaned. “Thanks, Maman.” 

“Have fun, dears,” Sabine said absently, turning back to the counter. 

“Thank you, Madame,” Luka said politely, following Marinette through the back. 

“Sorry about the stairs,” Marinette said as they began to climb. “There’s kind of a lot. My room’s all the way at the top.” 

“No problem,” Luka shrugged. He glanced at her and then away. “You look nice.” 

Marinette rolled her eyes to cover the fluttering in her stomach. “Don’t get excited, this is how I always dress at home.” It was true, too, she was only wearing a simple sundress that she had made in crisp pink and white fabric, with black piping and bows around the collar and straps. Her room, being both above the bakery and on the floor most exposed to the sun, tended to be warm. She’d contemplated dressing Ladybug style but decided keeping up her tough image in front of Luka wasn’t worth being uncomfortable, and...she didn’t want to. She’d put her hair up into a bun covered with a piece of patterned cloth that matched her dress and tied with a lace ribbon, since she was working in the bakery. She looked nothing like Ladybug right now and she knew it, and she wondered very much what he thought about it. 

“Really.” Luka paused, glancing at her again as Marinette opened the door to the living area, and then followed her through. “Not what I expected, but I guess there’s a lot I don’t know about you.”

“Honestly I tend to keep the gaming part of my life pretty separate from the rest,” Marinette admitted as she turned and motioned him to follow her through the kitchen and up even more stairs. “I don’t hide it or anything, but, a tournament’s a tournament and when it’s over I go back to real life.” 

“Makes sense,” Luka agreed, following her up the stairs. Marinette fought the urge to tug on the hem of her skirt, even though she knew it was long enough to keep him from seeing anything. She did glance back as she opened the trap door of her room and Luka was staring at the step beneath his feet. “Here we are,” she said, popping through. “I don’t want to hear a word about the pink.” 

Once they stepped onto the floor of her room, he didn’t say anything for a moment and she glanced over at him. 

“It’s very…” Luka trailed off, still looking around.

“What?” Marinette asked, a little more sharply than she meant to. 

“Nice, but again, not what I expected,” he shrugged, chuckling. His eyes fell on the stack of gaming magazines stacked neatly to one side of her desk. “Except that.” He grinned, going over to lift one from the stack and turn it towards her. It was open to one of his interviews with his picture in the corner. “You been checking up on me?”

“Of course,” Marinette said, turning away quickly to get out the controllers—and so he wouldn’t see her blush. “You and everyone else I play regularly. As Max would say, the more data the better.” 

“He’s pretty scientific about it, isn’t he?” Luka said, laying the magazine back down on the stack, his gaze caught by the poster hanging above Marinette’s desk. “What’s this?” he nodded toward it, looking back at her. 

“Goal poster,” Marinette said a little shortly, feeling uncomfortably vulnerable. The poster had started out as the tournament advertisement. Marinette had added pictures of equipment and materials she intended to buy, a large printout of the logo she had designed for her business, and several handwritten cards with motivational quotes and encouraging words, all arranged around the UMS logo and the prize listings. “I do freelance fashion design and I’d like to get my business jumpstarted.” 

“I see,” Luka said, studying the poster. “Wow. So, wait, those hoodies you guys wear at the matches, did you make those?” He looked at Marinette, and she nodded. “Awesome. You guys always look great. Like a team, I mean, ready to take on the world.”

“That’s the point,” Marinette replied, feeling oddly vulnerable and defensive.

“That’s really smart,” Luka smiled. “I kind of lucked in to being niche-famous but you guys are prepared. That’ll really draw some attention if you make it to the finals.”

“ If ,” Marinette sniffed. “I hate that word.”

Luka chuckled. “Well then we better get started, I’d hate to hold you back.” 

Marinette grinned, tossing him a controller, which he caught with ease. “To answer your question,” she kicked a hot pink rolling desk chair over to him and turned the other around, falling into it, “Max is very scientific and very precise and he knows how to work his stats to get the maximum benefit. Buuut he’s not super flexible and sometimes gets a little overwhelmed when we need to think fast.” 

“That’s why you make a great team, huh?” Luka said, sitting in the chair and wheeling himself over next to her. “You think on your feet and outside of the box. You do things people normally wouldn’t think of and when you’re in a tight spot, that’s when you get really crazy.” He chuckled. “And somehow you make it work.”

“Usually,” Marinette grumbled, making a face, and Luka coughed, covering a laugh, she was sure. She wheeled up to the computer, silently horrified by how much she was blushing as she dialed up the video call with Max. All Luka did was compliment her game play! He did that all the time! Just not usually so...analytically. In fact usually he complimented her when she landed a hit on him. Of course it made sense he’d observe her gameplay and take notes, she did the same, and it was nothing to get excited over.

She really hoped Max couldn’t tell through the webcam. He looked terrible, but he’d insisted that she call him, anxious, she thought, over whether Luka could really pull his weight in a team competition. 

“Hey, Max,” Marinette smiled sympathetically. “We’re all set up on our end, are you good?” 

“Not even remotely,” Max muttered miserably. “But let’s begin. Viperion—Luka—I have some observations.”

“Okay, I’m listening,” Luka said, rolling a little closer. Marinette fought the urge to move away and tried to focus on Max’s laborious recitation, wincing a little at just how bad he sounded. He should be resting, she thought, but the only way to get him to rest was to listen, so they did. 

***

“This isn’t working.” Marinette sighed and put her controller down.

“I concur,” Max said reluctantly. “Your performance as a team has declined considerably since we began.” He sighed, which turned into a hacking cough that made Marinette wince. 

She put that aside for a moment and swiveled in her chair to face Luka, then grabbed the edge of his chair and turned it so that he was looking at her too. “Luka, you can’t keep doing this. Being a team player doesn’t mean blindly following orders. You need to take some initiative on your own.”

“Marinette is correct,” Max’s creaky voice came from the speaker. “Your willingness to take correction is appreciated but it is pointless if our advice handicaps you. You need to move more freely.”

Luka winced. “Sorry. I just don’t want to step on your toes, you guys clearly have a system and—”

“Just because we have a system doesn’t mean that—”

“Marinette,” Max interrupted. “Perhaps it would be best if you and Viperion work from here without my intervention. Vi—Luka, there is no need for you to feel bound to do things the way we do them. Our approach is optimized to our skills and relationship. You and Ladybug should formulate a unique partnership suited to you both rather than to me.” Both listeners winced as Max coughed again wetly. “And to be honest, I believe I could use a nap.”   

“Of course, Max,” Marinette said immediately. “Rest and get better. Don’t worry about us, we’ll figure it out.” 

“Feel better, man,” Luka added. “You take care of yourself right now.” 

“Thank you both. I have confidence you can work this out. I was hoping to be more useful to you, but...well. It appears the only advice I can give you both is—” he grinned weakly. “Adapt or die.” 

“That’s encouraging,” Marinette snorted, and then softened. “Go to sleep, Max. We’ll figure this out.” 

“Good luck.” 

There was silence for a beat after Max hung up. “I’ll go get us some snacks,” Marinette said, pushing back from the desk. “Maybe it’ll give us a little boost. Any allergies or preferences I should know about?”

“Nah, I’m good,” Luka sighed, falling against the back of the chair and staring at the controller in his hands before setting it down on the desk and raking both hands through his hair. “Whatever you’ve got works for me.” 

“Okay,” Marinette said, setting a hand on his shoulder as she passed. “Don’t get discouraged, Luka. We’ll work it out.”

“Yeah,” Luka attempted a grin, but it lacked the power of his usual smile. “I know.”

When Marinette came back with a platter laden with an assortment of sweet and savory pastries, Luka was holding one of the picture frames that lined the back of her desk.

“Hey!” Marinette pouted, glaring.

“Oh, sorry,” he said, turning the picture to face her. “I didn’t mean to be nosy. It’s just, that’s my sister, in the middle. With the dark hair. I didn’t realize you knew each other.” 

She looked at the picture and blinked. “Couffaine,” Marinette said, comprehension dawning. “I should have realized. I’d forgotten Juleka had a brother. I haven’t seen her since she changed schools back in middle school so I didn’t make the connection.” She looked him over, trying to think. “I could’ve sworn I’d met Juleka’s brother before,” she said thoughtfully, tapping a finger to her lips in thought. 

“I dye my hair a different color for tournament season,” Luka said, tugging one turquoise lock. “Usually I’m more ‘Lagoon Blue’” he grinned, pulling out his phone. He turned it toward her and showed her a picture of himself standing with Juleka, with a shaggy blue ombre instead of the turquoise on top. “I only just cut it this year, too, so it would’ve been longer back then.”

“Okay, yeah,” Marinette nodded. “You used to pick her up from school sometimes.” She giggled. “I remember now, you had way more of a baby face back then.”

“Yeah.” Luka grinned as he put away his phone. “It’s been a few years, I’ve grown up a bit. So has she. So have you,” he added, setting the framed picture back down. Marinette winced a little, trying not to look at the picture, at the skinny girl with the too-wide grin. “Juleka hated it when I picked her up after school,” Luka chuckled. “So I did it as often as I could.”

“How’s she doing?” Marinette asked, putting the plate on the desk between them before she sat down again. “I know it was rough for her for a while there, when she left.”

“She’s doing much better,” Luka smiled. “She still has difficult days, but it’s a process. She’s made huge strides from where she was back then.” 

“That’s good to hear,” Marinette smiled back tentatively. She handed him a napkin and waved him towards the pastries. 

They ate in thoughtful silence, Marinette trying to figure out a better approach, and Luka lost in his own thoughts. More than once she glanced at him and found his eyes on her, but each time he dropped his gaze to his food.

“What?” Marinette finally asked, blushing, not sure if she was annoyed or amused or something else entirely. 

Luka started and then shook his head. “I’m sorry, I don’t mean to stare. I swear I’m not a creep. It’s just you look really different at the matches with the clothes and the makeup—” He gestured around his eyes. “I guess I’m having trouble reconciling that with this.” This time he waved a hand that encompassed all of her. “Like I said, I get why you do it, the image, it makes total sense, but I didn’t realize underneath it all you were so…” He grinned. “Sweet.” 

Marinette’s face flamed red and he choked on a laugh, trying valiantly to keep a straight face though his twitching lips gave him away. Lips that she was really trying not to look at any more than necessary.

She looked down, smoothing her dress over her knees absently. “I don’t think you’re a creep,” she said, in as neutral a tone as possible. “You’re...you’re a good guy, Luka. I can see that. I know I haven’t always been the nicest to you so...well, I’m sorry if you thought I didn’t like you. Sometimes my competitiveness gets the better of me and things come out harsher than I meant.” 

“Hey, I love that about you,” Luka said so easily that she was sure that he didn’t mean anything by it, though it still made her face flame up again. “Both the way you don’t take crap from anybody, and the fire that you have for the win. There’s nothing wrong with being competitive. You still have fun, and that’s why you’re so much fun to play. You don’t give an inch but you haven’t lost sight of why you love the game, either.” 

What a thing to be embarrassed about, but Marinette could no more help her blush than she could stop the sun from rising. “And now here I am playing with the league poster boy,” she teased, not looking at him. 

“Ugh, don’t remind me,” Luka groaned. “It’s kind of embarrassing. I mean, I know I’m good, but I’m not—” he gestured at the stack of magazines. “I don’t even know what to think about it half the time. I mean, I get it, sort of, but…” He shook his head, and ran a self-conscious hand through his hair and down to his neck. “Why me?” 

Marinette gave him a flat look. “It’s because you’re hot, Luka. Don’t act like you don’t know. You’re hot and you’re ‘the cool guy,’” she made finger quotes. “And they think your image sells. You have a brand too, whether you did it on purpose or not.”  

To her mild surprise, he ducked his head a little at that, and the grin that spread across his face was goofy and embarrassed and not even remotely cool. Marinette giggled in spite of herself. “Don’t act like you didn’t know,” she teased him again.

“Yeah, well,” Luka glanced up at her. “There’s knowing it and there’s believing it and the two things are farther away than I’d like them to be sometimes. So maybe it helps to hear it out loud sometimes.” He winked at her and Marinette turned red as a cherry. 

Putting her nose in the air, she turned away from him and grabbed a pastry off the plate, shoving it in her mouth and ignoring Luka’s quiet laughter. God, had she really said that? Ugh, how embarrassing. And he was Juleka’s brother, too, that was a whole other level of weird. Poor Juleka, she’d had such a difficult time back then, suddenly targeted by the school bully for no better reason than Juleka had grown up a bit sooner than the rest of them, and her slender, elegant build and unique style were more competition than Chloe cared for. 

Not that Chloe would ever have admitted it, choosing instead to hammer away at all of the ways Juleka was different, and the naturally sensitive girl hadn’t stood a chance against Chloe’s unreasoning cruelty, and—

Marinette suddenly had a flash of insight and she blurted, “Is it because of Juleka? Is that why you’re so outspoken about the sportsmanship enforcement?”

Luka froze, and Marinette bit her lip, suddenly realizing that she was asking him a very personal question. She opened her mouth to take it back, but Luka was already speaking.

“I’d like to think I’d be that way anyway,” he said, his hands slowly curling into fists in his lap. “I’d like to think I’d do the right thing regardless.” He sighed gustily. “But we’ll never know, because all of that did happen, and let’s just say I have a special place in my hate for bullies who pick on people for being different. I still don’t like why I get so much publicity, but if they’re going to give it to me, I’m gonna use it, you know? Luka smiled ruefully. “Don’t thank me for it, though, I’m not a hero, just a guy trying to do the right thing.”

“You might be a little bit of a hero,” Marinette again spoke without thinking, and quickly covered her mouth, looking away, utterly mortified. She cleared her throat and then tried to cover. “I bet Juleka thinks so, anyway. Deep down. Where she’ll never ever admit it to you.”

Luka laughed. “Not if her life depended on it,” he chuckled. “Thanks, Marinette.”

“Don’t thank me, either,” Marinette sighed. “I should be apologizing, actually. I wasn’t very good at standing up even for myself back then, let alone anyone else. I should have done more for Juleka. Thinking back on it now I feel like such a coward.”

There was a moment of silence, and Marinette stared down at her hands.

“You guys were just kids,” Luka said finally, a gentleness in his voice that just made her feel more ashamed. “But If you owe anybody an apology, it’d be Juleka and not me. Okay? You and me, we’re good. Let’s just move on.” He put a hand out and squeezed her shoulder lightly. “So, how do we want to try this? Since what we were doing obviously wasn’t working that great.” 

Marinette blew out a frustrated sigh and slumped in her chair. “I just don’t understand,” she complained. “We did fine in the tournament. Why are we having problems now?” 

“I’m overthinking,” Luka admitted, tapping the controller on his knee lightly. “You guys are so—”

“Anal?” Marinette said dryly, and Luka gave her a sheepish grin. “It’s okay, you can say it.” 

“I was going to go with analytical, but that too. I’m just not used to it,” Luka admitted. “It’s too much information. I can’t keep it all straight in my head and I seize up.”

“That’s fair,” Marinette said thoughtfully, setting her chair in a spin as she considered. “Max is very logical, and you’re more intuitive. I’m somewhere in between. So...when we take away your flexibility, limit your thinking, it starts to be a problem for you. In the tournament, you just did your thing, and I worked around you, and we did okay. Not the level we needed, but if we start with that—” 

Luka reached out and caught the arms of her chair to stop her spin, and Marinette blinked up at him, his face suddenly much closer than she expected. 

“Marinette,” he quirked an amused eyebrow at her. “You’re making me dizzy.” 

“Right,” Marinette grinned, trying not to shrink back. “Sorry. Habit.”

“Obviously,” he chuckled, his breath fanning over her face. “So, you’re thinking we need, what...to work less like a team?”

“Kind of,” Marinette shrugged. “If we can work out a few combo moves that work at strategic moments, like last time, then maybe we don’t have to think so hard, and then the rest, learning how to move around each other and when to strike...that’s just practice.”

Luka nodded slowly. “Okay. So how do we do that?” 

Marinette shrugged. “We’ll stop trying to think every move through and just play, and hopefully let our strategy evolve naturally for a bit until we figure out the moves we can pull off together and that work the best.” 

Luka grinned right back at her with that saucy tilt to his smile that made her weak in the knees. “Now you’re speaking my language. Go on.” 

“Step one, we need to get you loosened back up again.” She grinned wickedly as an idea occurred to her and Luka’s eyebrows raised slightly.

“And how are you planning to do that?” he asked. 

Marinette’s grin widened, and she leaned forward slightly, a little pleased when he swallowed and leaned back just a hair. “How about a target a little closer to home?” Marinette asked innocently, and Luka’s eyebrows raised further. 

“What did you have in mind?”

Marinette tried not to giggle, but a few escaped her lips as she asked him, “Remember when you said my dad couldn’t be that bad? Are you willing to find out?”

Luka blinked, finally sitting all the way back from her. “Um, sure?”

Marinette got up, still giggling. “I’ll be right back.” 

It took pouting and begging and finally, the teeny tiniest hint that she might kind of like Luka a little bit, but Marinette managed to pull Tom away from the bakery. All of the work for today was long finished, she knew, and he’d just been prepping for tomorrow’s baking. She could help him tonight and make up the time. 

The look on Luka’s face when Tom swept exuberantly into the room was absolutely worth the time she’d be putting in later. She easily recognized the holy shit, he’s big shock on Luka’s face but it quickly gave way to slightly puzzled amusement as Tom carried on about how he was there to show you two how to win Dad style, and then you’d really take that tournament by storm, and have you seen Marinette play? When that drew an exasperated Papa! Haven’t you been listening, of course he has! Tom hastily corrected himself, booming on with of course you have, and she was amazing wasn’t she, and what was your name again son?

Tom cheerfully interrogated Luka as they got the game set up and Marinette handed her father her controller, unable to keep the grin off her face at her papa’s enthusiasm and Luka’s perplexed amusement. She grabbed a sketchbook off her desk and sat back to do a little loosening up of her own as she watched Tom and Luka go head to head. 

It quickly occurred to her that she’d never actually seen Luka play before. Up until now, they’d been in separate pods, and even when they played side by side she was focused on the game and not on Luka. 

Now, though, she had the leisure to sit back and observe, and she found her eyes on Luka instead of the screen more often than not. It was fascinating, the way competition lent a spark to his normally laid-back expression and threaded tension through his frame. She liked his relaxed nature but this energy suited him, too.

Or else she was just hopelessly smitten. What was it with her and incredibly attractive, emotionally unavailable men? 

Luka glanced at her at just that moment and gave her a grin and a wink before his eyes darted back to the screen, and Marinette sank down a little farther in her chair, hiding behind her sketchbook so neither of them would notice her red cheeks. 

You don’t know he’s emotionally unavailable, a voice that sounded a lot like Alya’s whispered in her head. Quit projecting your anxieties and woman up, girl!

Marinette shook herself and focused on her sketching, but that didn’t help much. The image taking shape on her paper was definitely Viperion-inspired. Circular, like her ladybug emblem, but this one was a snake coiled around and back in on itself, grinning around a mouthful of its own tail. Kind of a weird take on the ouroboros, maybe, but it seemed fitting for Luka’s gaming personality and style. Marinette wondered if he would like it.

Not that she was planning on showing him. She set the sketchbook aside face down on the desk as Tom and Luka both leapt out of their chairs, yelling over each other, until finally Luka threw his arms up with that deafening victory whoop Marinette remembered from the competition, and Tom mimed a dramatic death, falling back into his chair in a way that made Marinette wince for her furniture.

“That was awesome,” Luka laughed, reaching over to shake Tom’s hand the same way he always did Marinette’s. 

Tom accepted the handshake good naturedly and laughed, looking toward Marinette. “I can see why you’re obsessed with beating him. I almost had him!”

“Right?” Marinette exclaimed, throwing her hands up. “You think you’ve got him and then bam, something hits you that he set up ages ago and suddenly you’re the one in trouble!”

She paused, her eyes widening slightly as she looked at Luka. “He plays the long game,” she continued thoughtfully, and Luka was giving her that expectant look again, his eyebrows raised as he listened to her speak her thoughts aloud. “I’m good at thinking on the spot,” Marinette said, tapping her finger against her chin. “But you set things up and then just dig in and wait for them to pay off. It’s all about timing for you. It’s not working for us together because you’re trying to keep up with me and that’s not your style.” Luka’s grin was spreading slowly over his face as Marinette’s excitement grew. “That fits in with what we were saying before; why we did better when you did your own thing and I worked around you. So if we work with that...if you get them set up the way you do and create opportunities, weak moments I can take advantage of...Luka, we can work with this.” 

“Well, it sounds like I’m not needed anymore,” Tom said, putting a large hand on each of their shoulders. “I’ll get back to my bakery and let you two get scheming. But you, young man—” He shook his finger at Luka, but there was no malice in the gesture. “As soon as this tournament business is over, I want a rematch.” 

“I’d love that, sir,” Luka chuckled, and staggered as Tom pulled him into a quick half hug.

“Have fun, kids,” Tom told them cheerfully as he went back downstairs. 

Marinette giggled at the slightly dumbfounded look on Luka’s face. “Sorry about that. I know you said you’re a hands-on person, but if he’s too much, you can tell him. He won’t be offended.”

“Nah,” Luka chuckled, sitting back down. “He’s fine. My Dad hasn’t really been in the picture for years, so...it’s actually kind of nice.” He cleared his throat, picking up the controller that Tom had set down and offering it to Marinette. “So...ready to give this another try?” 

Marinette hopped into the chair, wiggling a little bit in excitement as she smiled and reached for the controller. The look in his eyes as she took the it from him made her freeze for a moment, but he just shook his head slightly and looked away, and she would really have liked to know what that smile meant.

Marinette turned hurriedly back to the desk to get them logged back in, hoping he couldn’t tell how fast her heart was suddenly beating.

At least while they played she could keep her mind focused. And they did have fun; so much so that Marinette was surprised when there was a knock on her trapdoor and Alya’s head popped up. 

 “Oh,” Alya stopped, blinking. “I didn’t realize you had company.” With a sinking feeling in her stomach, Marinette watched her check Luka out and turn her sharp eyes on Marinette, who was thankfully  not  blushing just at that moment, though it felt like she had been all afternoon. 

“No worries,” Luka said, smiling, looking up at the sunset light coming through the windows. “I didn’t realize it was getting so late. I should probably go.” He stood up and snagged his hoodie off the back of his chair. “No need to walk me out,” he said, waving Marinette back into her chair when she would have stood up. He slid the hoodie back on over the arms she’d been trying so hard not to look at all afternoon. “You ladies have a good day—or evening I guess, and Marinette, I’ll see you soon. My place next time?” 

“Sure,” Marinette mustered a smile. “Good session, Luka, thanks.” 

Alya watched him go, leaning down the trap door for reasons that Marinette was sure were not appropriate, and then straightened, turning wide eyes to Marinette. “Girl. Spill.” 

Marinette sighed. “He just came over to practice.” 

“Practice what?” Alya snickered, and Marinette rolled her eyes.

“I told you he’s filling in for Max in the tournament this weekend. He’s really good but we’ve only played against one another so he came over to practice and get a code set up so we’re prepared for the next tournament event.” Alya raised her eyebrows expectantly, and Marinette sighed. “And apparently I’m going over to his place in a few days to practice some more.” 

Alya squealed, and Marinette groaned. She turned her back on her best friend and picked up her sketchbook, staring thoughtfully at the serpentine design on the page and mentally thumbing through her stash of green fabrics for something suitable.

#quickspins #killer combo #lukanette #gamer au #reverse crush #i am lukanette trash i admit it #endgame lukanette #lukanette endgame #luka couffaine #marinette dupain-cheng #miraculousladybug #miraculous ladybug #ml fics

[shereadsandwritesformelanin]

The Baker And Her Actor: part Vii [Needy]

Paring: Chris Evans x Black! Fem reader

Summary: You meet Chris while making a house delivery for the Evans. He can’t get you off his mind and to be honest neither can you.

Wanings: profanity and sexual content, but overall fluff

Notes: I hope you guys enjoy! If you have any request be sure to send them my way! P.s thank you so much for all the support, I’m growing so fast I’m trying to keep up and pump out as much as I can! 😭🤩 Love and appreciate you all!

Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist

[listen to the songs for this chapter/part!]

We get to see more of what our bby boy thinks this chapter!!

T/W: if you struggle with anxiety like me and Chris here is a hotline that actually works, it helps to talk to someone not go through it alone! :)

-

It had been five days since Chris had been gone for the Avengers Endgame press tour. It took a little adjusting for you to get use to his abscene, you’d never had a boyfriend who would be gone for more than nine hours for work. So it was definitely difficult for you.

Luckily Chris suggested you stay at his place with Haneli and watch dodger so you wouldn’t feel so far away from him.

You decided to call your boyfriend considering you hadn’t talked to him since yesterday afternoon mostly his fault because he hadn’t been responding.

Maybe he was just really slammed.

You pick up your phone dailing his number anxious with it ring that passes. “Hey, Goodmorning baby.” You greet through the phone

“Goodmorning.” Chris’s voice was usually hoarse in the morning but this was different almost bored and distant.

“Everything going okay, you’ve been kind of distant with me lately. Wasn’t sure if press was going okay.” You ask trying to discover what the problem dealt was.

“Yeah everything is fine, sorry I’ve just been jet lagged.” Chris explains.

It all made sense, of course he was tired and not just ignoring you for shits and giggles.

“I understand. Dodger is doing amazing you should see him with his sister.” You say switching the tone of the conversation.

“Bet he is.” Chris chuckles somberly.

“Maybe you should get more rest.” You suggests

“Yeah, I think I will. Call me tonight.” Chris speaks

“You can call me.’ You sass. “Catch up later, I miss you.”

“I miss you too.” Chris admits befor hanging up.

Truthfully Chris did really miss you. He missed your smile, your lips, your warmth and optimizium, which he could use right now.

These tours weren’t the highlight of his job as captain America. Same questions different interviews it was truly draining. He could tell you were trying but he just wasn’t in the mood and he didn’t want to take it out on you.

-

Chris’s Point Of View:

I walk off the set of yet another dull interview heading toward my dressing room to be picked up for my next bland interview with Jimmy Fallon.

I feel a light tap on my shoulder turning my head to face the direction the sensation had occurred from.

Scarlett.

“So you gonna tell me why you’ve been all sour faced today?” She teases eyebrow cocked waiting for my response.

“Just tired that’s all.”

“Just tired that’s all.’ She mimics “Cut the bullshit Evans I know you and I know when somethings bothering you.”

“It’s just.’ I sigh sucking in a deep breath “I’ve been seeing this woman and she’s amazing no complaints but it’s just she’s being a little clingy right now and my anxieties getting to me bad Scarlett.” I admit forehead resting in my fingertips

Scarlett places her hand on my back rubbing it sympathetically. “How is she being clingy?” She asks

I reach into my pocket pulling out my cellphone showing her the various missed calls from you and unanswered text messages.

“So your ignoring her?” Scarlett coments.

“Not ignoring I’m just exhausted and need a break.” I confess

“A break from her, or this.” She says motioning to all the cameras and lights that stood behind us.

She was right, I need to differentiate and fast.

“ I don’t know.” Was all I could muster up to say before walking away to my car that was outside.

God don’t do anything stupid Chris.

-

I walk into my hotel room kicking off my shoes and striking into a white tee and my boxers. I head towards the master bedroom slipping in between the sheets before dialing your number to facetime.

“Hey babe.” You say a huge smile plastered on your face. “Look whose here.” Panning to dodger who was on the bed napping as usual.

I can’t help but let a smirk surface on my face. I loved their relationship dodger was just so comfortable he might even love you more than he did his old man.

“Hey bubba!” I say watching dodger immediately perk up and get excited.

“He misses you, so do I.” Y/n states

“I miss you too.” I respond

“Do you.” She whispers almost so low I couldn’t hear her.

“What?” I question in disbelief that you thought that.

“Nothing, I shouldn’t have said that.” You retract

“No maybe you should have if that’s how you’re feeling.” I say practically scrolling you now.

The both of you always talked about never hiding your feelings from each other, always been expressive so things didn’t blow over.

“Chris, I only say this because you’ve been distant I mean I called you how many times this week and how many times did you answer!” Y/n went on.

“I’m busy y/n what did you expect.” I reasoned

“Yeah but you have time to tweet pictures of dodger and your cast. To big time for your girlfriend though.” Y/n snarled

That’s it.

“You know what i get this is difficult for you but it’s difficult for me too! Don’t you think I miss you? Because I do, I really fucking do!’ I thundered.

“Why are you yelling at me?” Y/n quips

“Don’t try and make me bad guy. All I’m saying is I do miss you, but I don’t I just don’t need someone who’s going to be clingy and consumed in my life.” I snap, immediately regretting the words that fell from my mouth.

The phone call went silent. Almost like the two of you were processing what Chris had just said.

“You don’t need someone who cares about you, right. Well enjoy finding someone who doesn’t give a shit about the real you and only wants you because you’re Chris Fucking Evans, Goodbye!” She roars

“Y/n!” I shout but it’s too late you already hung up.

“Damn it!” I shout chucking my phone across the room.

I was boiling. I wasn’t mad at you I hated myself for alllowing my anxiety to control me and say something so stupid like that.

I really fucked up.

-

Y/n’s Point Of View:

You slam my phone down on the night stand, slipping deeper into the covers bundling yourself and your tears up into the comforters.

You let all the tears of anger, fustration, and confusion soak the pillows. Your head stung with every word you replayed in your head.

Chris had never shouted at you, hell he hadn’t even raised his voice at you before. So him going completely psycho not only scared you but broke you.

One thing you know was that you didn’t want to be here any more and you didn’t want to be alone.

“Can I come over?” You sniffle into the phone.

“Yeah of course.”

You leash up the dogs slipping on your shoes and grabbing your bags heading out the door.

What am I doing.

-

You walk up to door and you didn’t even have to knock before the door came swinging open.

Deacon standing behind it.

“Hey.” you whisper voice sore from the yelling and crying you had just participated in. “Hope you don’t mind I brought extra guest.

“No I don’t mind at all.” Deacon speaks shooting you a small smile taking your bags.

Deacon wraps a warm blanket around you, making his way back to stove removing the kettle of boiling water.

“Wanna talk about it?” He asks pouring you a cup of tea

You sigh. “I just, I don’t understand what I did wrong. I mean was I too clingy or was I being a good girlfriend?”

All though it pained Deacon to see you with him, he was glad you were happy for the most part. But this, this made his blood boil.

From the moment you hired him Deacon had always been protective of you, so he definitely wanted to punch Chris straight in the mouth right about now.

“I don’t think you were being clingy, I think if he is gonna have a wonderful girlfriend like you he should know how to balance you and work.” Deacon speaks taking a sip of the tea he’d just prepared

You nod at his statement but instantly shoot back to that day.

That day you found Chris awake at 3 in the morning. Sitting on the kitchen floor, face dull of emotion. The day you had to cradle him and help sooth him. The day he told you he suffers from anxiety.

You knew that’s what was eating him up.

“I don’t want to be to harsh, he has a lot on his plate.” You speak making an excuse for him.

“Y/n.’ Deacon says taking your hand in his. “No matter what he’s going through he shouldn’t treat anyone like that, especially you.” He places his hand on your chin lifting it upwards kissing your temple.

“Goodnight.” His voice rings

“Goodnight.”

Deacon aburptly stops in his tracks turning back toward you. “Hey y/n, just make sure this is what you really want. It’s only going to get more real from here.”

You draw in a deep sigh palming yourself in the face.

Was he right?

-

It had been a solid fourty eight hours since you’ve spoken to Chris, mostly your fault because he’s definitely been reaching out. With every call you hit and send to voicemail, You’re just not ready.

“Everything good girl?” Kiara asks slipping next to you behind the counter.

“Yeah, I’m fine.” You lie

“Okay, well I’m gonna go to the back and check on the chocolate chip cookies.” She says unconvinced that you were actually fine.

Same way you were faking to convince yourself if you are actually fine.

Nope you weren’t.

Snap out of it y/n you’ve got work.

“Next costumer—.” You stammer Chris now standing in front of you giving you those deep ocean eyes hidden underneath his infamous Boston baseball cap.

“I’ll take an original house donut with a side of conversation with my girlfriend please.” Chris speaks attempting to lighten the mood.

You walk over bagging his donut giving it a harsh squeeze before shoving it into the packaging. “Unfortunately we’re out of a side of conversation with your girlfriend.” You sass practically chucking the donut at Chris.

“Not that I was your girlfriend anymore anyways.” you mutter ringing him up.

“What?”

“What?’ Don’t remember what you said to me?” You scrowl

Chris did remember in fact he thought about it every minute. He thought about what he could have said and done better, it drove his anxiety through the roof having you upset with him.

“I’m sorry.”

You scoff. “Yeah.”

“Were you upset?” Chris asks head hung low, you could tell he was really apologetic.

You sigh. “Yes, very.’ You admit “To the point were I went to the last place I thought I’d ever be.”

Chris crosses his arms unsure of what you meant and where this place was. “Where would this place be?”

“Deacons house.” You whisper ashamed to have said that.

“So we have a fight and you run to another mans house?” Chris shouts

He was right. You shouldn’t have gone over there knowing deacons feelings for you and having respect for Chris. Yet and still your pride had gotten in the way and you wouldn’t admit you were wrong, it was his fault we were in this fight anyway.

Right?

“So I ask you about your day and car about you and you shut me out?” You reply getting even louder than he previously was.

You could tell he was holding back, having restraint with his tounge.

At this point the remanding costumers in the bakery were starting to get quiet listening in on the action. Low whispers began as Chris’s cover had been blown.

“I should go, not sure why I even came.” He spat storming out.

Watching him leave sent a familiar pang to your heart almost as strong as the night of your intial fight.

Your eyes swell with tears.

I need a break.

“Kiara!” You croak

She peers out from the back with a sympathetic look on her face, you assumed she’d been listening and heard everything. “It’s okay go I’ve got this.”

You nod thanking her before running off and breaking down, again.

-

The plan was when Chris got back you would return dodger. That never happened because you two were both very stubborn, but it was his dog so the least you could was return dodger.

“Come on bubba, lets go see daddy.” You say leashing dodger up packing him in your car

Gosh saying that didn’t even feel right.

The drive over to Chris’s you thought about the altercation.

You thought about what you said, what he said. And if it was really that big of a fight to hold a grudge.

Maybe you were a bit to harsh on him, maybe.

You pull into his drive way. Taking dodger out of the car, he gave you a spare key but it didn’t feel right to use it considering your current situation.

You ring the doorbell. Bringing back so many memories of when the two of you first laid eyes on one another.

There he was handsome as ever. You melted whenever you looked into those eyes.

Don’t be weak.

You sigh. “I thought I would bring dodger since you haven’t swung by.” You explain avoiding eye contact

The tension was thick.

“Thank you. I appreciate it.” He speaks dryly

“Well I’ll get out of your hair.” You state turning on your heels walking toward your car.

You hear him sigh banging his fist against the door frame, stopping you in your tracks. “Y/n. I don’t want to fight.’ He breaths. “I’m sorry, I fucked up and it was never my intention to treat you like that. You don’t deserve that.”

You were stuck. You didn’t know what to say, so you didn’t.

You walk over to him cupping his face pulling him in crashing your lips onto his.

He’s a lucky man because typically you wouldn’t have done this, it usually would have ended the moment any man raised there voice above a whisper at you.

Your lips moved in a familiar sync. Chris brings you through the door frame shutting the door behind the two of you. He picks you up carrying you to the kitchen table never loosing hold of your lips.

“I’m.”

“Sorry.” You mutter through the messy kiss

“I know.” Chris says lifting your shirt off

“Let’s not fight.” You plead hands running through his hair.

He shoots you a small smile before returning his lips to yours.

“I love you.” Chris says pushing into your slick flods.

“I know.” You moan.

He stops causing you to sigh. You knew what he wanted.

Here I go.

“I love you too dummy.” You tease

“Mmhm.” Chris hums thrusting into you.

The two of you made sweet love all night, forgiving each other through each position. Ending the night with a long shower.

How did you go from not knowing who Chris Evans was to laying in his arms?

-

A/n: Whewwww this took some time to right. I wanted to make sure they made up because per the man of the hour (Chris says he doesn’t like to go to bed angry with a girlfriend) and whats a better way to make up?

Looks like the two are in love, so what’s next? 😏

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#chris evans #chris evans angst #chris evans fandom #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans x black ofc #chris evans imagine #chris evans x poc!reader #chris evans x black reader #chris evans x y/n #chris evans x woc

[whitecatindisguise]

Let Me Make You Proud 3

So... I’m almost finished with writing the story. Only 5 chapters left. With that in mind, I will be updating the story twice or even three times a week, just so you don’t have to wait as long to read in whole. (Plus I’m excited and want to know your opinion about the WHOLE STORY asap).

With that said, I give you the next part:

----------

Chapter 3: Maybe, But Nevertheless

Rapunzel nervously played with her fingers, while she listened to the Captain’s raport. Varian’s mixture took its time to dissolve, so the guards were able to finally leave the square only once the sun has set. With everything going on, the Captain needing to interview each of his subordinates, it was only the next day he was able to present the case to the King.

Rapunzel was sitting on his right side, getting more angry by the second. Everything inside her boiled as she listened to the Captain’s explanations, of how Varian helped the Saporians escape. Truthfully, he did mention it’s just a theory, as they don’t have enough proof, but everything so far seemed to only worsen the boy’s situation. One of the guards claimed he came to the dungeons few days ago, asked to help with strengthening the locks in the cells. It was only for a few minutes, but there seemed to be a time when he was alone, as the guards left for some kind of errand. 

“So he could have give the Saporians the acid at that time?” The King asked, his brows furrowed. 

Frankly, he didn’t know what to think about the situation. He didn’t remember the boy working with Saporians before, but was told it happened while he was under the memory spell. He sighed heavily, Quirin’s son brought more trouble with him than it was worth. 

“There is such a possibility, yes.” Captain nodded his head. “Although we’re lacking proof to say for sure-”

“So you’re accusing him only based on your speculations?” Rapunzel didn’t manage to hold her anger. She completely ignored her father’s disapproving glare. “Excuse me, Captain, but for all we know, he could have been abducted AND framed by the Saporians!”

“Princess, with all due respect.”Tthe man sighed and turned to face her. “The boy’s been more trouble than not since the time you met him. I don’t need to remind you, he threatened you, your mother and the whole of Corona with all of his inventions.”

“But it was also his invention that SAVED Corona from the red rocks!” Rapunzel argued, standing up. “If it wasn’t for him, we don’t really know what could happen! You can’t possibly want me to believe-!”

“That’s enough, Rapunzel!” Her father’s voice boomed in the room. “If you can’t listen to the Captain’s report in silence, I must ask you to leave.”

“But, dad-!” The princess quarreled.

“Leave, Rapunzel.” The King ordered in a stern voice. “We will talk about your behaviour later.”

Rapunzel humphed and stormed out of the room, making sure the door shut loudly behind her. Angrily, she stomped back to her room and fell at her bed. 

“Ugh, why does he never listen to me?!” She cried, turing to lay on her back and stared at the ceiling. Her gaze fell on one of the paintings she draw, portraying Varian and Ruddiger after the whole ‘Varian incident’, as she called it. A quiet knocking snatched her out of her thoughts. 

“Blondie, Sunshine, you okay?” Eugene peeked inside the room and noticed her laying on the bed. She smiled slightly and sat up. “That bad, huh?”

“You have no idea.” She exclaimed as he sat down beside her. “Now they believe he somehow gave them the acid when he came to reinforce the locks in the dungeons few days ago!”

“Well, do they have any proof?” He asked, although he already knew the answer.

“If their prejudice is any proof at all...?” She threw her hands in the air in desperation. “Am I the only one who sees he really changed?”

“You always see good in others, sweetheart.” Eugene shrugged and embraced her. “That’s one of the reasons, why I love you.”

“Thank you.” She smiled sweetly and stood up. “But we need to prove, he’s innocent. Will you go to Old Corona with me?”

“Hey, I’m always up for a roadtrip with the woman of my dreams.” The man laughed as he stood up. 

They didn’t even reach the main door, when they saw a familiar figure at the end of the corridor. He’s just left the throne room, closing the door behind him. 

“Quirin!” Rapunzel called out, as she spotted the man. She ran up to him, curious. “What are you doing here? Oh no, did they black rocks threaten Old Corona again?!”

“Your Highness...” Quirin looked surprised but remembered to bow in respect. “No, Old Corona is fine.”

“Oh, thank goodness. I was afraid for a moment.” The princess let out a sigh of relief. “Oh, that reminds me. Is Varian home? I need to talk to him.”

Quirin’s eyes widened and he quickly turned his gaze away. 

“No… he’s not there…” He replied quietly, avoiding eye contact. Rapunzel looked confused, but then her gaze moved to the locked door of the throne room.

“...What did they tell you?” She asked, her brows furrowed. There was a silence that followed and made her heart hurt. She reached out and grabbed his hand, so much bigger than hers. He looked up to her in shock. “Whatever it was, it’s not true. I don’t believe it” She said confidently. The man smiled slightly. 

“Thank you, princess. I just don’t know what to do.” He sighed and looked back at the door. “I came here, searching for help in finding my son. I didn’t expect to be told so bluntly he’s accused of helping wanted and dangerous criminals escape.”

“Look, I know Varian did some bad things in the past…” Rapunzel started, to which Eugene coughed, something that sounded a little bit like understatement. “But I also know he helped us with many other things. He’s not a criminal!”

Quirin smiled and squeezed her hand lightly. 

“If you learn anything, please, let me know.” He asked. “I’ll help you anyway I can.”

“I’ll remember that.” Rapunzel smiled back and let go of his hand. She and Eugene watched the man leave the castle, a resolve growing in her heart. She will find Varian and prove his innocence. 

~~~~

Varian looked around the room he was in, feeling anxious. Sometime during the flight, he was tied up and blindfolded, probably so he wouldn’t see where exactly were they going. He felt the balloon landing hours later, Kai picking him up and taking… somewhere. He was put inside the room, untied and left alone for what seemed like another set of hours. He was glad for Ruddiger’s company. He was sure he’d go mad on his own in no time. 

He had no idea why would they kidnap him, if only so he doesn’t tell the guards what really happened. When he thought about it, he didn’t really understand why would they go to such extent, only to frame him. It wasn’t revenge. If it was, he would be dead by now. 

Suddenly, his train of thoughts was stopped by the sound of footsteps, coming closer with each second. The lock turned and the door to the room stood open, showing Andrew. 

“Do you like your new room?” He asked with a smirk. Varian sent him his most angered glare, to which the man laughed. “Well? Don’t you want to know, why you’re here?”

“Why don’t you enlighten me, then?” The alchemist spat. 

“Come on, where’s the fun in that?” Andrew shrugged. Varian humphed and crossed his arms on his chest. 

“Whatever it is that you want, I won’t do it.” He said defyingly. 

He quickly scrambled away, as Andrew took a few steps forward. He stumbled and fell backwards, but was caught by his shirt and held just few feet over the floor. 

“You don’t have ANYTHING to say in this.” He whispered, his eyes throwing daggers at the scared teenager. “You’ll help us, whether you like it, or not!”

The man let go of his shirt and Varian hit the floor hard. Ruddiger ran up to him, his terrified chittering not helping to ease the headache from the fall. 

“Better get used to those four walls, brat.” Andrew said as he stayed in the doorframe, his back to the boy. “Because that’s all you’re going to see for the next few weeks.”

The door closed shut and the lock turned again. Varian sat on the floor, trying to calm his thumping heart. Ruddiger leaned his paw on his chest, the black eyes staring into his blue ones. 

“It’s going to be okay, buddy.” He said, petting his head gently. “It’s going to be okay…”

----

That’s it for today. Expect next chapter somewhere this week. See you soon.

#let me make you proud #fanfiction #varian #tts #Rapunzel is angry #Andrew is a dick #Quirin makes an appearance

[lonestarbabe]

Holding Out For a Hero

Chapter 6: Levitating (AO3)

T.K. feels a little better, but then he feels a little worse

Carlos

The tour had been going well to Carlos’ surprise. Carlos had thought that might cancel it and send T.K. to rehab after the disastrous interview with that bastard Jenkins, but after vowing to never leave his house again in a fit of humiliation and self-hate, T.K. came around and had been adamant about not letting Jenkins drag him down. The story had been all over for weeks, enduring longer than most stories about T.K. did. Judd had been especially anxious. He’d had to make a lot of calls for damage control, and even when the calls were done, Judd still worried about T.K.’s mental health. He insisted T.K. see someone about it and had sent Carlos to hang out with T.K. on several occasions when Judd had business to attend to or Marjan was at work. Marjan had been practically living there. For once, T.K. didn’t seem to mind the hovering.

T.K. hadn’t wanted to face the world, Carlos had decided that T.K. could lock himself in his mansion all he wanted, but he couldn’t lock himself away from the people who cared about him, including Carlos because somewhere along the way, maybe pretty much right away, Carlos had liked T.K. Sometimes, he’d liked him for unfathomable things. Yet, T.K. was one of those people who was fun to be around when he wasn’t getting high and fucking dudes who used him like he was a piece of meat. After a few days of warranted upset, T.K. decided to take charge of his life, and he had Carlos bring him to Judd for an action plan. T.K. had gotten so sick after that meeting; after a night of wallowing, he’d decided that he wasn’t going to touch substances again. He was going to cut them all out cold turkey, and while Carlos was skeptical, T.K. seemed resolved to do it. Maybe too resolved. I know better than anyone that people who seem better aren’t always better. Taylor wasn’t, and he was smiling more than ever.

Taylor was a completely different situation, and Carlos didn’t want to draw parallels where they didn’t belong. I don’t even want to think about Taylor.  He didn’t want to project his past issues onto T.K. because that would only prevent him from doing his job, but even so, he didn’t want to let himself get too comfortable. From a young age, when there was little that he could control, he’d learned that the key to having control was being vigilant, not having too much hope, and expecting the worst. It’s a sucky outlook on life, but it’s the only one that I’ve got. I just need to remember that T.K. is not Taylor. He’s just a client, a client that I have soft spot for, but I can’t act like I have any right to get too involved.

They’d only been to five stops so far, but T.K. had been a delight, which had made Carlos feel like he was an episode of the Twilight Zone because Judd had explicitly said that tour T.K. was a nightmare, but the tour T.K. he’d seen was eerily dreamy. Carlos had gone to Judd about it, thinking that maybe T.K. was only acting so strange because it was the beginning of the tour. As was true every time that he went to Judd, Judd had basically patted him on the shoulder and told Carlos that he was doing excellent work. He’d shrugged and said, “Maybe it’s the new therapist,” which was also weird to Carlos. T.K. had accepted Grace’s carefully compiled lists of therapists without even making a snarky comment. He’d said thanks and gave Judd a big smile despite the way his hands been shaking. Sometimes the scariest problems were the ones that you couldn’t see. I can’t protect him from things he doesn’t share no matter how hard I try.

Carlos was hanging out around T.K. in T.K.’s dressing room, and it wasn’t because he needed to be there. He had other security measures that he could tend to, but they had a whole security team who would make sure things were taken care of, and T.K. had asked him to be there. For whatever reason, Carlos couldn’t find it in him to say that he was busy or that he didn’t think it was a good idea to get any more buddy-buddy than they already are. He’d relented when T.K. smiled at him. How pathetic is that? Disarmed by a single smile. Carlos couldn’t help that a happy T.K. was kind of the best person in the world.

Some of T.K.’s friends were there too. Well, Marjan and some of her friends from work who had tagged along to see T.K. at the LA show. They all seemed like cool people. He and Marjan had already gotten to know each other, and she was a good influence on T.K. Paul and Mateo seemed like upright people too. They told a bunch of stories about the calls they got, most of them regarding idiots who got hurt or set accidental fires. Carlos had stories of his own to share, excluding any names of course. He hadn’t had a lot of gigs but any one of them came with a funny story or two.

T.K. quietly listened, looking at ease. He didn’t add any stories of his own, even at Paul’s prodding. “Come on, you’re like the most popular singer in the world right now, and you don’t have any good stories.”

Marjan rolled her eyes. “Don’t get him started. Once T.K. starts talking about himself, he doesn’t stop.”

“Hey,” T.K. replied lightly, “that’s not true.”

Mateo nodded. “Yeah, I haven’t heard him say one thing about himself.” It wasn’t that T.K. had been a silent wallflower, but Carlos had noticed it too. He said a lot without saying much at all. Sometimes, when he was feeling out of his element, T.K. would only give vague details about himself, and maybe it was because he had to be careful about who he told what, but Marjan’s friends were probably safe. If they ever blabbed, Marjan would probably make sure that they never spoke again. They seemed earnest too, and while Carlos couldn’t just look at someone and know that they were okay, he had a pretty good eye for people who just wanted something and those who were sincere. His dad had been the former type, so he knew a thing or two about people who were just nice when they wanted you to do something for them without returning the favor. Dad convinced me to miss my prom to help him with one of his schemes, and then he couldn’t even show up to my high school graduation.

“What can I say? I lead a boring life.” He slung his arm over Carlos’ shoulder. T.K. loved casual touches, and they drove Carlos crazy in an “I need more” kind of way. It would be so easy to get engulfed in the ocean that is T.K. Strand.

“Oh come on, Strand,” Marjan said. “Tell them about the time you spilled tea on the Queen of England.”

“Wait what?” Mateo asked, eyes widening. Carlos had heard that story once when T.K. was high. T.K. had been laughing his ass off and Carlos had just been trying to keep him from doing

Paul added in, “You really let us talk about a dude getting his junk stuck in a piece of wood when you spilled tea on the Queen of England.” He was laughing heartily at the thought.

“That story is a lot better than meeting a rich old lady. I’m pretty boring, believe it or not.” And I’m Swedish royalty. If T.K. was boring, Carlos’ job would have been a lot easier.

“It’s not as funny as that time you tripped going onto the stage at the VMA’s.”

“Marjan, did you really have to bring up my most humiliating moment?” By the way, T.K. was grinning, Carlos didn’t think he was all that humiliated by it.

Carlos nudged T.K. with his elbow, “You nearly fell off the stage Wednesday when you were singing Bitter Honey.”

“That was bad, but that’s not more humiliating than when you puked on stage?”

“I didn’t puke on stage. I went off stage.”

“Everyone could still see you, Strand.”

“I was what? Fifteen? I was doing my best.” Carlos couldn’t imagine being under the public eye at fifteen.

“Ouch. Fifteen is a hard age for everyone,” Mateo said.

“Being fifteen sucks,” Paul commented, a darkness in his eyes.

“It sure does,” T.K. agreed. Carlos nodded. A lot of shit had happened when Carlos was fifteen. A lot of shit happened every other year as well, but at fifteen things have a way of feeling extra shitty. Fifteen had been when Carlos had told his parents that he was gay, and honestly, nothing had changed. They didn’t care about him enough to care that he was gay. T.K. glanced at Carlos, looking nervous.

“I came out when I was fifteen,” Carlos said without thinking. It wasn’t like T.K. didn’t know that Carlos was gay, but they’d never much talked about gayness, so it felt strange to Carlos to talk about it, and maybe that meant that he wasn’t talking about it enough.

“I was eighteen,” T.K. said. Technically, T.K. hadn’t come out, he’d been outed by a thirty-year-old asshole who he’d been “dating,” Carlos used the word lightly because clearly a thirty-year-old with a fresh-faced eighteen-year-old doesn’t feel right. T.K. hadn’t even gotten his GED yet. The news about T.K. being gay had been everywhere. Even Carlos had heard about it, and Michelle always joked about his lack of pop culture awareness. “I don’t know if I could’ve handled being out at fifteen. My career might have plummeted.”

“When I realized I was bi a few years ago, I thought it was the end of the world. I thought that there was no reason to come out, but I’m so grateful that I had a best friend who shook some sense into me.” She gave T.K. a fist bump. “Now, I can’t believe I didn’t know I was sooner.”

“Accepting yourself can be the hardest part. My parents were very accepting of all kinds of people, so I think they would have been okay with me being trans, but even then, coming out felt like the worst thing in the world. My parents died before I told them, so I wish I’d been able to tell them, but it is what it is.” The conversation’s taking a dark tone, but T.K. seemed more interested in this than anything else.

T.K. gave a sympathetic look, face growing weary. “Sorry man, that sucks. It’s hard when you don’t have time to tell people what you need to say. I wish I’d been able to tell my…um… my dad, but sometimes life doesn’t give you that choice, and it never doesn’t suck.”

Marjan looked to Carlos, sagging slightly. She and Carlos are both concerned. They both know that the word dad doesn’t roll off T.K.’s tongue easily, and the feeling in the room shifts because of it. It’s gotten quiet and T.K.’s easy-going demeanor has receded just enough that Carlos is starting to feel anxious. One little thing can easily cause T.K. to spiral, and T.K.’s been okay lately, but he may be living on borrowed happiness. Don’t let this be an incident. Take charge of this before you lose control of the situation, Carlos. T.K. was getting fidgety, and Carlos was scrambling to find a way to calm him.

“Marj, don’t go all quiet on me. A little dead dad talk isn’t going to throw me over the edge.” Except it did last time his dad was mentioned. T.K.’s not angry, not right now, probably because Paul and Mateo were in the room, but his tone was too forced and sounds passive aggressively angry. Basically, everyone knew to dread carefully. I need to defuse this situation before it gets worse. If T.K. catches the uncomfortable glances that Paul and Mateo are sharing, he’ll freak out, so Carlos called T.K.’s name, making T.K. look over to him. T.K.’s eyes snap over, looking frantic.

“I know that,” Marjan answered, but she didn’t sound sure, and with all Marjan’s confidence, when she didn’t sound sure, she wasn’t.

Carlos made a show of looking at his watch. “You need to get ready for the show now. It’s getting late.”

Marjan caught on, and stood up, leaning down to hug T.K. “Teek, I’ll talk to you after the show, okay? Maybe we can meet up at your house or you can come to mine.”

T.K. nodded, calming at the touch of his friend. “Yeah, okay, we can do that.”

Paul gave T.K. a handshake. “Thanks so much for the tickets, man. We’ve all been curious about Marjan’s best friend. You lived up to our expectations.”

Mateo gave a wave. “Yeah, maybe later you can tell us the queen story.”

T.K. put on his fakest smile. “Sure thing, buddy.” Carlos could see that T.K.’s going to another place mentally, so he rushed the guests out, giving T.K. room to breathe.

Marjan lingered just a bit longer, giving Carlos a stern look, “Take care of him.”

“It’s my job,” he said.

“It better be more than that,” Marjan replied. It is. I’m probably in for a world of hurt, but I’d take care of him even if I wasn’t paid to do it. I want him to be happy, and I do my best to make him feel happy.

T.K

T.K. wasn��t as stupid as some people thought he was. He might have played stupid a lot because it was easier to get what you wanted when people thought you’re barely smarter than a pile of bricks. He’d gotten a lot of good info by acting dumb. Judd would tell him to cut it out. Marjan would usually let him get away with it just to see the amusing results that always came. Carlos would give a knowing look, not making a judgment in either direction.

Because he wasn’t a complete idiot, he knew what Carlos was doing as he swiftly moved T.K.’s guests out of his dressing room, and to his surprise, it makes him feel relieved more than annoyed. Maybe I’m a changed man, after all. Or maybe I’m just getting too attached. The new T.K. apparently is into letting people meddling in his life, and he apparently let his bodyguard be more than a nuisance who follows him around, and who could blame him? Carlos actually seemed to care about him. Like, he’d bring pink-frosted doughnuts in the morning just because T.K. liked them, and when Carlos brought them, T.K. liked them even more. It’s like the sprinkle phenomenon. Just like doughnuts tasted better with sprinkles, they tasted better when hot bodyguards hand-delivered them just because they were thinking about you.

It made T.K. feel pathetic that the doughnuts made him so happy. Carlos was just being nice because he was a nice guy, and doing nice things was just what he does. It’s not because I matter to him. He only cares because if something happens to me, he’s out of a job, and from what he’s said, this is the most prestigious job he’s had. I don’t want to ruin his career. He deserves a better client than me, though. Someone who isn’t a fuck up. He was probably just as nice to everyone else. I’m just too self-absorbed to notice that the world doesn’t revolve around me. But the doughnuts made T.K. feel special. Even if Carlos is just being nice. There’s something about little things like remembering someone’s name or bringing someone doughnuts. Those little things made people feel good even if they weren’t that big of a deal.

“I don’t need to start getting ready for thirty-minutes,” T.K. commented just to say something. He hated how he couldn’t seem to keep his mouth shut. He babbled and yelled and sang just because he didn’t know how to shut up, didn’t know how to sit with the quiet, and not go crazy and therefore didn’t know how to control his mouth. Most of the time, his mouth was autonomous from the rest of him. I don’t know what the fuck I’m saying half the time. I’m just shooting the breeze until there’s no air left for anyone else.

Carlos gave an apologetic look, and it’s so cute. My heart might just melt if I’m around him too long. “Are you mad?”

“No, most people wouldn’t have done that though. They wouldn’t have even noticed that I needed a break.” He’s so nice. How can I be that nice?

“It’s my job to notice what you need without you having to say it.” That wasn’t in his job description, but T.K. wasn’t going to argue it.

“I don’t know why I’m so triggered by my dead dad. It’s been years.”

“There’s not a timeline on grief.” Tell that to his mom, who went back to work in two days and acted like giving T.K. a guitar would make up for not having a dad. Tell that to the psychiatrist who told him that he couldn’t grieve forever or the one who had told him that ten years was too long to still feel so bad. Honestly, everyone who told him to get over it was probably right. It wasn’t healthy to live in that day forever. To think about his father burning to death when it hadn’t even been the flames that had killed Owen. It had been shrapnel. But still, T.K. imagined skin being charred and falling from his dad’s body, and he just wanted the image to go away. He wanted to stop feeling so scared because that’s what he’d felt since 9/11, a hot fear that he converted into anger because he was too old to cry about how terrified he was. He remembered his mother telling him when he was ten that he was too old to cry about nightmares. He refused to cry about them after, even though he had to bite his wrist just to distract from the torment he felt. He learned to bring the feelings inward and to destroy himself for fleeting moments of peace.

“Yeah, but I can’t even say the word dad without feeling sick, and hearing it sends a fresh wave of guilt through me.” T.K had this stupid idea that if he hadn’t been such a brat the evening before 9/11 and kept his parents up until 3 am that his dad would have been better rested and would have been able to do his job better and not die. Logically, he knew that lots of people with kids who weren’t brats died that day. Lots of well-rested, unlucky people, but T.K was never able to shake the idea that his father’s death had something to do with him. He’d never confessed that fear to anyone, and maybe that was why it was killing him, draining him of his ability to keep his head in reality. He’d prefer his mind to float away. He loved the detached feeling of not being at all connected to himself, and as fine as he acted to anyone who glanced at him, he couldn’t stop thinking about oxy. It made him sick with yearning just to think of oxy or E or LSD, or K, or G or whatever other combination of senseless letters would let him out of his head, a prickly, electrified cage that made him feel small and claustrophobic.

“Guilt?” Carlos looked at him, face pinched. T.K. figured Carlos saw him as a puzzle. He wanted to know what T.K. meant because it was interesting in a perverse way. Everyone wanted to know why a man who had everything but a dad couldn’t get his shit together. Some people had less but had somehow managed to hang onto their sanity. They didn’t crave an oxy every time a pang of feeling clawed at their gut.

“I didn’t mean that. I meant sorrow.” T.K. didn’t think that he sounded very convincing, but Carlos wasn’t going to press it. It wasn’t his style. T.K. needed to focus on his show, and bringing up deeply rooted childhood issues wasn’t exactly going to make him feel energized. Though, to be honest, before all of this had happened, he’d been good about being happy. He’d been bubbly and fun and felt almost normal, but then in a snap, that bright, fun to be around self had shut off. It’s like I’m too different people. One who likes the peaks of roller coasters and another who likes the valleys.

“I still miss my dad,” Carlos confessed, and T.K. held his breath. The dead dad’s club is not a fun one to be in.

T.K. felt flushed. “I didn’t know. I’m sorry for your loss.” It sounded so stupid to say. T.K. had always hated when people said that to him because it never made him feel any differently. Them being sorry couldn’t change his loss or even heal it.

“He’s not dead or anything. I just haven’t seen him in five years.” Carlos shrugged. “So, I don’t think he’s dead, but I haven’t talked to him in years, and cutting him off was something I had to do.” T.K. had to take a deep breath not to lash out. If his dad was alive, he wouldn’t ever stop talking to him. Even if he was the worse dad in the world.

“I know it’s not the same, but it sucks.”

“Then, why won’t you talk to him?” T.K. tried to keep his voice calm, but he sounded like an angry kid on the verge of a tantrum.

“Because as much as I love him, he can’t bring me inner peace. He only keeps me around when he needs something, so I decided not to make myself available, but I still miss him sometimes. He was mean and abusive, but he’s not like a villain you see on a TV show. He had good in him, even if it was just a very little bit. He used to take me fishing. I hated it, but I loved the time I got to spend with him. We’d fish, and suddenly, he’d become dad of the year. Then, we’d go home and he’d tell me I couldn’t do anything right.”

“I’m sorry. Sounds, dead or deadbeat, having a dad brings heartbreak.”

“My point is just that you don’t have to stop missing him. You don’t have to stop thinking it’s unfair that you don’t have him here. You don’t have to stop cherishing his memory, but you do have to learn to live with it.”

“Yeah, thanks, Freud.”

“I’m sure your therapist would say it better,” Carlos joked. T.K. felt guilty because he had taken the therapist list Grace had made for him and shredded it after one visit with the first woman on the list. He’d had video visits with her twice before deciding that he didn’t need that anymore. He started to feel better. The withdrawal symptoms had gone. He felt more in control of his life, so he’d decided that he didn’t need anyone doing a deep dive into his brain. He’d figured it all out himself. No professional needed. No AA, NA, or whatever other program was out there. All he needed was his guitar and to stay away from parties. There was a part of T.K. that knew he was being foolish. He’d gotten sober before like this when he just decided to stop and get his life together, but every time, when the going got tough, T.K. usually figured it was time to quit the good habits that made life bearable without the bad habits.

“Yeah, she’d give a bunch of psychobabble.” Dr. Aggarwal actually probably wouldn’t have done that. Despite T.K’s stubbornness, Grace’s search had been thorough and she’d chosen people who wouldn’t give psychobabble. Maybe I did do some research before I shredded the list.

“Are you okay with that?”

T.K. shrugged, “I’m getting used to it. I think this one is actually helping. It’s going to be a journey, but I think this might be something good.” He hated lying to Carlos. I’m such a dumb, jerk. But the truth wasn’t going to make Carlos feel better. It wasn’t going to change the situation. It wasn’t going to do anything but sit there like the biggest know-it-all in a room full of know-it-alls.

Carlos beamed, and T.K. wanted to disappear. I hate myself for being such a weirdo. I’m the worst person alive. Carlos deserves better than me. “That’s great. I’m glad you’re starting to feel better.”

The more T.K. lied about feeling better the worst he felt. “Yeah me too.” He forced a smile. “Me being better is only going to make your job easier.”

Carlos laughed. “I have a feeling that you’ll never make it too easy.” I can’t make anything easy. I always have to take the hardest route as if that will somehow cure all the awful feelings that I have when it does nothing but make me an angry wreck.  

“What would be the fun in that?” Carlos laughed again, and T.K. felt himself relax. T.K. thought that if a laugh could save a person that he’d be saved, but laughter couldn’t save him. It would be like using cough medicine for a bullet wound.

#911 lone star #911 lone star fics #my fics #Elise Writes #my writing #tarlos fics #wip #holding out for a hero

[that-was-anticlimactic]

Angst Week Day Three: Hunger, Slipping (Cole)

Warnings: slight body shaming, slight fat shaming, eating disorders, vomit, self-harm through eating disorder, ‘intense’ social anxiety

Some of the parts may seem super extra but this is also about social tendencies and how the ninja are stereotyped by citizens and how the ninja portray themselves in public!

I almost deleted one of the parts at the party because it seemed too extra, but I wrote a line about highschool that I really liked so I didn’t delete it lol, I also wrote that part at midnight haha

~~~

“Why can’t they see what I see? Why can’t they hear the lies? Maybe the fees too pricey for them to realize, your disguise is slipping...”

He hadn’t had cake in forever… in fact, he couldn’t remember the last time he ate cake! So when Cole found out Darkley’s was providing them with cake, the young angsty rebel dancer inside of him wanted to eat as many pieces as he could fit in his mouth!

And he did! He ate a lot of the creamy chocolate cake, and it was delicious! But after that day at Darkley’s, things got weird.

The team made a few jokes about his love for cake, naturally. They all teased each other, it was all in good fun, he didn’t mind. But then they were out in public for a press conference one day, and the kids and teachers at Darkley’s presented each ninja with an award.

Lloyd, Kai, Jay, Nya, and Zane all received certificates with their names on it.

He received a piece of cake with his name on it.

A kind gesture, sure, but when Gayle Gossip asked why Cole received cake, Brad answered, “Cole is obsessed with cake! The day they saved us, he ate almost the entire cake by himself!”

Cole blushed and laughed along with everyone else— it didn’t matter.

A month or two later, after the final battle, there was a special on the television about the ninja, which the team all watched together.

There were a bunch of kids and each said why they loved the ninja.

“I like the black one a lot!” one kid spoke up. Cole sat up straighter, beaming. Finally! After hearing every single kid talk about literally everyone on the team but him, he was excited to hear someone liked him!

“Why do you like the black one?” Gayle asked.

“Because he eats a lot and likes cake and food and I do too!” the kid continued brightly. Cole’s grin fell as his teammates roared with laughter.

Another kid spoke up, “Yeah! I like the food ninja!”

… the food ninja? Is that all he was? He just hadn’t had cake in years because it was banned in his house… no one liked him because he was brave like Kai or caring like Zane or creative and positive like Jay (all things said about them in the interview)... they only thought he was funny because he liked cake…

~~~

Between Tournament and Possession… 

He was really nervous. He didn’t want to be here.

But, of course, the day of the banquet the mayor was throwing in celebration of some historical thing, Lloyd, Kai, and Jay had plans together, Nya was sick, and Zane and Lloyd were on a duos mission.

Cole and the others agreed that they didn’t want to be rude and decline the offer to attend, and Cole had thought they were going to offer to change their plans, but no. They decided that Cole should go to some city banquet by himself.

Alone.

Cole chuckled hastily as he adjusted his collar and tie. He looked around at all these people he didn’t know, all dressed up and laughing daintily as if they’d known each other for years…

The room was filled with hundreds of people, yet Cole still felt alone.

Some banquet this was.

He’d spoken to a few people throughout the night. The mayor kindly thanked him for his service, his wife agreed, and they shook his hands.

A younger woman, probably in her early twenties, approached him and said, “Are the other ninja going to be attending this evening?”

Cole has shook his head. “No, sorry. I was the only one available to come tonight.”

The woman looked him up and down and snorted. “The fire ninja couldn’t come?”

Cole held back the want to roll his eyes. So, she just wanted to get at Kai. “No, he’s busy,” he replied in the most polite voice he could muster.

She scoffed and marched away from him.

He shrugged. Whatever. Good riddance.

After that, Cole overheard an awkward argument between a girl and her friend.

“Come on, Mia! Go talk to him!” one girl said, non-discreetly urging her in Cole’s direction.

“Ugh, but I don’t want to, Riley!” the girl, Mia, groaned.

“It’s not like he’s doing anything else! He’s been standing at the drink table all night! Besides, imagine how cool you’ll be when you go to school Monday and tell everyone you danced with one of the ninja!” Riley argued.

Mia hummed in thought. “Yeah, but I’d rather it be the fire ninja!”

Another girl who wants to get in Kai’s pants, Cole thought, slightly agitated but grateful that he never had to deal with any of the crazed fans like Kai did.

“Yeah, but he’s not here, so this one will have to do!”

Mia then leaned in and began whispering something to Riley. Cole wished he could say he didn’t care to know what they were saying, but the lonesome teenage in him took over and he leaned a bit closer and listened a bit more intently.

“— I can’t be seen with the earth and food ninja, he’s, ehhh, he’s just not my type, ya know? He’s a little too chubby and if I go around telling people I was with him can you imagine what guys at school would think they’d have a chance with me?”

Cole stiffened. Is that… is that… true? He had been eating a lot more than usual lately, but… he didn’t want to! People just kept giving him food and expecting him to eat it and he couldn’t say no because they made it specifically for him because they thought he’d like it and he wants to make his friends happy! Besides, he trains a lot and he can’t go a day without exercising, does that do nothing for him but make him really strong?”

The Riley girl sighed. “Yeah I guess you’re right. Of all the ninja, why did the least interesting one have to be here?”

Cole wanted to speak up, but he knew it was just some popular teenage drama, and he wasn’t about to get into that. The team dropped out of school for a reason, their lives are hard enough without that toxicity.

Still, it hurt a bit. Not that he was into her in the slightest, but as a publicly closeted gay he can’t go around denying girls because he isn’t attracted to them.

He was probably dodging a bullet. If she did talk to him and they ended up dancing, he would just be next week’s gossip. Some lie twisted by the popular tyrants of Ninjago High.

He’s worth more than that.

Besides, it’s not fat, no no no, it’s just muscle. It’s just hard to tell beneath his dead shirt, vest, and jacket…

And of course he was the least interesting! He was silent, closed off! He didn’t talk much during interviews like the rest of the team because he preferred the background! He didn’t flirt with girls on the streets like Kai or crack jokes like Jay! Naturally, he’d be considered the ‘least interesting’!

It was just a string of bad luck. Just some mean girls, two of whom must have some rich parents because teens aren’t really supposed to attend banquets thrown by the mayor.

People didn’t hate him that much, they just loved Kai that much. And who could blame them? Kai’s attractive, flirtatious, radiates power, and extroverted, as opposed to his silent, strong, introverted self!

Things went from bad to worse as the night went on.

He didn’t feel comfortable asking anyone to dance, and he was too anxious to start a conversation with anyone, so Cole spent the evening standing by the refreshments table, drinking water whenever he got thirsty.

It was weird… for awhile everyone seemed to be focused solely on dancing but… as the night went on, he found that people were starting to stare at him. And not stare at him in awe because he was a ninja, but as if he were doing something wrong.

Cole checked his hair in the reflection of his glass, but it was the same as when he arrived. His shirt was still tucked in, he hadn’t rolled the sleeves up, his pants weren’t wrinkled or dirty… what was he doing wrong.

Eventually, a man around the age of the woman from before finally approached him and blatantly demanded, “Food ninja, why aren’t you eating?”

Cole blinked. “Excuse me?”

The man threw an exasperated look at his group of friends, who were slowly inching closer and closer to the conversation, before saying, “You’re the food ninja. You’re, like, obsessed with food and desserts and you haven’t eaten anything tonight, what’s up with that?”

It felt as if someone had stabbed him in the gut. “I-I’m not hungry…” he muttered sheepishly, slowly wrapping his arms around himself, almost like a protective bubble.

“Not hungry? What’s wrong with you? All anyone’s seen you do is eat!”

“That-that’s not-“

“The fire ninja is the angry hot one, the blue ninja is the funny one, the white one is the serious one, the green one is the hero, then there’s the girl, and there’s you, the ninja who eats a lot!” the man exclaimed, drawing the attention of most of the room, who all now stopped to watch.

“I- those are just stereotypes!” Cole meekly replied, willing the rage inside of him to fade so he wouldn’t act out in public.

“Okay, then tell us something about yourself, food ninja, what do you do other than eat?”

Cole felt everyone’s gaze on him. Was he being set up? Surely citizens were more competent than that! Were they just trying to get him to make a scene? Was this some sort of test? His breathing was getting faster and faster. He felt like he couldn’t breathe.

“I like to draw! I read a lot, and I’m actually pretty serious too! I used to dance, but now the only dance I enjoy is a hip-hop type of dance, I climb trees and go on walks— I love nature so much!” he wanted to say, but his words were caught in his throat.

Everyone was staring at him.

Then he heard a snicker. Soon, more and more people were trying to hide their laughter.

He can’t let this be on the news. He can’t let this incident get publicized. He can’t be the one who starts giving the ninja a bad rap. He can’t he can’t he can’t he can’t he can’t—

His eyes flickered into the cruel eyes of the man before him for just a moment, before he hung his head.

The man chuckled. “See, you’re the food ninja. The food ninja eats.”

Cole, defeated, just nodded.

As he turned to walk away, probably to the food table to fulfill his stereotype, he heard whispers.

“Heh, didn’t think he’d just give up like that. He can’t hold his ground. No wonder he’s the least valuable ninja.”

Cole clenched his fists. How did that phrase get out? Who spread it?

“I bet he didn't want to eat because he noticed how much weight he’s been gaining. He can’t keep up with the other ninja if he gets much fatter,” a female ‘whispered’ to her friend, who in turn attempted to hide a laugh.

Cole looked down at himself as he continued to trudge along. Was he really gaining weight that fast? Was it that noticeable?

“I think he’s funny. Ya know, he’s just so relatable because I wish I could stuff my face all of the time and then work it off like he does. I heard that’s why he trains so much.”

Cole scrunched his nose. He didn’t… he didn’t just eat all of the time and then work it off. Yeah, he works hard, trains a lot, exercises a lot, but he does that to prepare, not to lose weight he gained…

“I really wish the other ninja were here. They do more than just stand around and eat. Like, FSM, at least talk to us, right?” Laughter followed.

Cole held back tears. So, was he reduced to the food ninja because that’s all that was memorable about him? Was he really that bland and boring?

“Maybe I didn’t talk to you all because you were too busy talking about me behind my back!” he wanted to scream at the group. But he didn’t.

He eyes the cake on the table. His stomach flipped and his mouth felt dry. He didn’t want to eat the cake right now. He was so sick of cake! He had it like five times a week! He was starting to intensely dislike the taste and texture of cake!

… but everyone was watching him. He took a shaky breath before cutting a piece and placing it on his plate.

“Hey, save some cake for the rest of us, eh?” someone shouted at him when they saw the cake on his plate. The room erupted into laughter and Cole begrudgingly shrugged and shoveled cake into his mouth as they expected him to.

The party lit up again. People went back to dancing, the room was loud and full again…

But not before he heard a girl murmur, “FSM, what a pig.”

~~~

“How was the party?” Jay asked from the couch when he heard Cole enter the room later that night.

Cole grunted and shrugged. “Fine, I guess. Really wish you guys were there. I didn’t know anyone, it was kinda awkward… everyone was asking about you guys, though.”

He looked at the scene before him. The whole team was in the living room, half on the couch and half on the floor. Nya was surrounded by tissues and wrapped in a blanket, a bowl beside her, and Zane and Lloyd looked as if they had just gotten out of the shower. His heart ached. If they were all home… why didn’t they come late?

Zane gave him a sympathetic look. “I apologize, brother. If Lloyd and I had known our mission would have ended before you got home, we would have joined you without thought.”

Lloyd snorted. “After we got all of that mud off of us.”

Zane giggles. “Yes, after we washed all of the mud off!”

The group laughed, and it was almost like Cole was invisible. He was the only one who didn’t understand.

He started towards the fridge, as the guests at the banquet had insisted he take some leftovers to “appease his appetite”, and he wanted to put them away, when suddenly the group remembered he was there.

“Didn’t you eat at the party?” Kai bluntly asked. “Eh, just didn’t finish the chicken, okay? Zane’s using it for dinner tomorrow.”

Cole blushed, biting his lip, as he placed the leftovers in the back. He wasn’t hungry, but suddenly he felt like everyone was watching him again.

He slowly grabbed the box of leftover pizza, his stomach aching at the sight, and brought it with him to the couch.

He plopped down beside Jay, rolled his sleeves up, and carelessly threw his tie on the floor, before starting a piece of cold pizza.

He wanted to throw up.

~~~

Eat eat eat eat eat

Cole didn’t want seconds during dinner tonight, but it seemed like everyone was staring at him, waiting for him to pile mountains more food on his plate so they could say “First Spinjitzu Master, Cole, Save some for the rest of us!” and laugh, as they do every night. He knew they meant no harm, but...

Eat eat eat eat eat

He felt sick. He couldn’t eat anymore. But he had to. Everyone was watching him.

Shove it down.

Just keep eating.

Don’t look up.

Focus on the food.

First Spinjitzu Master, when had he gained all of this weight… it’s because he was a pig. A disgusting pig. That’s why no one likes him, yeah, because he’s a fat pig.

Eat eat eat eat eat eat

He couldn’t eat anymore.

His stomach ached, he mouth burned…

But he had to. He is his appetite. If he doesn’t eat he’s not important. If he doesn’t eat will anyone know who he is?

He vigorously shoved more food in his mouth, then excused himself to go to the bathroom.

Laughter.

His throat burned.

He panted, attempting to ignore the burning sensation before once more lifting his fingers to his mouth and puking.

Too fat. His dad would be so disappointed.

Too fat means too slow means too useless on missions.

The scent of the vomit only served to aid in his purging, the smell was putrid.

Why did it hurt so much? So much pain.

Panting. He was panting.

This was what he was supposed to do, right? If he’s not hungry, then who is he?

His head hung, resting on the toilet seat, all thoughts of sanitary had left his mind after his first round of purging all those weeks ago.

Who is he?

He was coughing now. His knees ached, his throat burned, his lips were dry, and his head pounded.

He begrudgingly lifted his heavy head, wiping the leftover spit of vomit running down his chin. Like always, he shakily grabbed the febreeze and sprayed the room, praying that no one would be able to smell it.

Let them think what they want.

He attempted to steady the shaking of his hands.

Then he walked back into the kitchen.

He was… hungry.

“I bring you pain, the kind you can’t suffer quietly. Fire up your brain, remind you inside you’re rioting, society is slipping, everything’s slipping away...”

~~~

I don’t know. Might make a sequel where Zane catches him puking.

#ninjago #ninjago cole #ninjago fanfiction #ninjago angst week #ninjago-angst-week #corey writes:)

[kenkamishiro]

20181116 Translation of Ishida and Takahashi’s interview with BuzzFeed Japan

It took me 3 days to translate this monster of an interview (~3.5k word count lol), but it’s finally done! My hands need a break after typing for so long...

Thank you to the interviewer Kashima Yui for asking some really great questions, and BuzzFeed JP for making this interview happen. I really enjoyed seeing Ishida and Takahashi banter back and forth, you can really tell that they’re great friends, and I’m happy to have witnessed a sliver of their relationship.

Also, I’m far from perfect, so if I’ve made a mistake or mistranslated something, please let me know.

Edit: Fixed a line from Takahashi saying, “You did it,” to “He got me.”

“I’ve always thought about quitting” - Author of Tokyo Ghoul and his sworn friend talk about their creative works and the troubles they’ve faced

Behind the scenes of Tokyo Ghoul’s final chapter, and what it means.

By Kashima Yui, BuzzFeed Staff, Japan

November 16, 2018

Over 37 million volumes of Tokyo Ghoul have been sold worldwide. During the 7 years it has taken to reach its conclusion - from the start of its serialization to July of this year - Ishida Sui has delivered an elaborately portrayed work with a profound story to the world at a tremendous speed.

This enigmatic mangaka has almost never appeared in the media, but there is a certain someone that he’s been influenced by.

That person is Takahashi Kunimitsu of österreich, who was responsible for the Tokyo Ghoul:re anime ending theme, “You of Paradise.” Ishida for some time had a phase where he would only listen to the music that Takahashi composed. “He’s the type who’ll say everything that’s on his mind,” he raves.

At the same time, Takahashi must have also been influenced in turn by Ishida, for he had stopped making music until he received a request from Ishida.

I thought that I would no longer be making music. Why am I...?

Sui-sensei lives in Fukuoka, and Takahashi-san resides in the Kanto region. How did you two first meet?

Ishida: We first met 3 years ago when I requested the opening theme “Incompetence” for the Tokyo Ghoul √A anime. I’d already received many proposals for the opening song, but I more or less shot them all down.

It was because I liked the former band the cabs that Kunimitsu-kun used to be a part of. Right around when I was drawing volume 7 of Tokyo Ghoul, I was pretty much listening to just one the cabs song, “Soldiers in February”, which might be why I’m so strongly attached to the band.

Takahashi: But by then, the cabs had already split up and I’d stopped being a musician.

Ishida: After Kunimitsu-kun took a break from being a musician, I kept an eye out on his SoundCloud (laughs).

Every now and then I’d see a new song uploaded, so I knew that he was still alive and well. Since I knew he was still making music I thought, “Couldn’t he compose music for Tokyo Ghoul too?”

I said that to the anime people about 100 times, that I wanted Takahashi Kunimitsu to make the opening. But because he couldn’t make up his mind, they turned me down 99 out of those 100 times.

Takahashi: That’s ‘cause I never got the news to begin with! Back then the manager of the office I was enrolled at suddenly said to me, “Something big’s happened.” No warning in advance.

Ishida: What do you mean I never told you, are you even hearing yourself right now? (laughs) But it really was an impossible request. Plus the fact that Kunimitsu’s band broke up and was now nonexistent.

Takahashi: I thought to myself that I’d no longer work in music, so I wasn’t willing to accept at the time.

I’d uploaded my music onto SoundCloud, but that page was just a personal space for myself rather than a place to market my music. So when I was approached about a collab I was thinking, “What are they talking about? Why me...?”

Along with the fact that I’d never read Tokyo Ghoul.

Were you scared?

Takahashi: I was terrified. It had already been 3 years since the band broke up, so I felt like I’d lost my ability to compose music. I was thinking, “What’ll happen if I can’t make it?” On top of that, that piece was on a much larger scale than anything I’d ever worked on. That made me anxious on a regular basis.

...but on the other hand, it felt like this was a sign telling me to keep playing music. I wasn’t sure if I could do it, but I thought that if I didn’t try here and now, I might not play music for the rest of my life.

I was extremely tight on schedule for “Incompetence”, the opening theme for Tokyo Ghoul √A, but at any rate I frantically worked on it in a frenzy, feeling more and more dead by the end of it. I didn’t read a single page from Tokyo Ghoul so that I wouldn’t get pulled in by it. The result...every single bad thing that had accumulated during my 3-year hiatus showed up all over the song.

Ishida: I basically like everything he composes, so when I heard the demo I thought it was pretty good. I was more than happy. But I have to admit, that song...is way too all over the place (laughs).

Takahashi: Even when I listen to it now I think it’s all over the place.

Did the two of you come to interact through the production of “Incompetence”?

Ishida: No...back then I just received the demo. After it was released, we talked about it on Skype, and that was probably our first ever conversation. After that, was it through Twitter DM or email?...I got a message from him that had an “at this time” kind of vibe, and that’s when we began talking to each other more personally.

[T/N: I’m not exactly sure what Ishida meant by “at this time”, but the word he used, “この度は” is a form of “now” that you’d use in formal/business speech, so perhaps he meant that Takahashi’s message to him felt formal.]

The extent of our conversation for several months was just exchanging texts back and forth, but one day we unexpectedly began voice chatting through Skype. And then Kunimitsu-kun declared out of nowhere, “I am light.” (laughs)

Takahashi: I was overly concerned about my own image, so I’d try to crack jokes or else I’d have a hard time making conversation.

Ishida: I thought he was acting like an extremely gloomy person because he felt like it. Back then that dark part of me was also prominent, so when I tried talking all emo I’d get told, “I’m light.” (laughs)

Takahashi: I told you, that’s just me talking a lot and making jokes.

Ishida: After that, we’d talk on Skype once every month or two. One time we talked for around 6 hours.

Takahashi: Until morning. This guy talks while he works, you know, so he can blabber on for a long time.

Ishida: Funny enough I make more progress if I have someone to talk to while I’m working.

A mangaka and a musician talking on Skype night after night

And that doesn’t reduce your ability to concentrate? Since when you’re talking over the phone there are moments where you have to think about the person you’re talking to.

Ishida: It depends on the work. There’s a term in the manga industry where you’re just moving your hands. The “usual work”, should I put it? The “usual face”, the “usual composition.” When I’m doing that kind of work, I’ll often listen to someone talk, watch TV, or listen to music.

What do you talk about?

Ishida: About creative works, among other topics. Recently we’ve been talking about death matches.

Death matches?

Ishida: A type of fiction where a group of people are forced to kill each other off, you’re guaranteed to find one in any convenience store. Because the death match is such an excellent format, it’s easy to draw and sell in any era. But if the author relies too much on that format, the story will fall apart without them even realizing it...that’s my opinion on it.

The most interesting death match is still “Battle Royale.”

Takahashi: Rigid formats will always exist in any kind of media, including in music. It’s fine if you put a story into that template for starters, that’s what a countless number of creators are aiming for.

Ishida: The format itself isn’t bad, but if you rely too much on it, it no longer becomes your own creation, and the work ends up becoming sloppy and excessive.

When you’re talking things over with each other, are you ever influenced by the other person?

Ishida: I am. Whether it’s music or manga, I realized that there are many factors that I can relate to in terms of creativity, even if I may not be an expert in those fields. When I’m talking to Kunimitsu-kun, it makes me wonder if I can connect with people working in other genres. We can have discussions without building fences between one other.

What about yourself, Takahashi-san?

Takahashi: Objectively speaking, Ishida-kun is a very successful person. In the past I would always hold feelings of inferiority towards those successful people.

But talking to him...I realized that he was a normal person. It might just be by chance that Ishida is normal, but how should I put it, we suffer in similar ways. In that sense I’ve become more open-minded and changed how I think about people running on the front lines.

...I’m a professional too, after all. Since I’m a creator, the last thing I can do is call professionals fools.

I once gave up on music. Ishida Sui has kept going.

Takahashi-san, why did you stop being a musician in the first place? I heard that just before the cabs tour you suddenly disappeared.

Takahashi: ...that’s right. I caused a lot of trouble for many people, especially the band members, so I can’t talk much about it...just that I ran away like a fool. That’s why I thought I wouldn’t be working on music anymore.

After you kept composing music in your “personal space”, you received news of a collaboration. Have your thoughts changed on this matter?

Takahashi: I suppose so. When it comes to anything concerning Ishida Sui, there are two things that have affected me the most. The first is that the act of continuing on no matter what is worth its weight in gold, and to not object to it.

Ishida: It’s a huge feat, putting things out with no regard to its shape or form. I feel it even more since I’m not working on a serialization anymore. Whoever can accomplish this is truly remarkable.

Takahashi: I’ve already given up on music once, so I’ve got some very strong feelings regarding this.

And one more...because Tokyo Ghoul really felt like it reached its conclusion, I realized that “ending things properly” and “continuing” can both be considered equally wonderful.

What do you mean by “ending things properly”?

Takahashi: You know what Ishida-kun said when we first met? “I’d like to end Tokyo Ghoul by turning it into a complete train wreck.”

Ishida: You said you’d demolish it for me (laughs).

Takahashi: But when I actually read the final chapter, it had a pretty clean ending. "He got me...” I thought.

I’ve always thought about quitting

Takahashi: I find it frustrating that I was given the right answer without feeling like I earned it. Here I am strolling on the sidewalk, and before I know it Ishida-kun’s racing down the road...that’s what it feels like. That’s what I was heavily influenced by when I was making “You of Paradise.” How valuable “ending things properly” can be.

You’ve already mentioned how important it is to keep on going, but Sui-sensei, you continued to work on your serialization for 7 years. Did you ever think about quitting?

Ishida: All the time. I underestimated how taxing manga and magazine serializations were.

Why is that?

Ishida: I wonder...I think it was only after I realized that I could rely on other people that I really began to enjoy making manga. The conclusions I came to on my own were mostly self-contained, and I no longer felt that it was fun drawing manga alone.

But I found another way after asking around. And it only took about 6.5 years (laughs).

Have you been worrying on your own until then?

Ishida: This is a personal problem, but I didn’t want to tell anyone about how the story would unfold. I also considered the editor-in-charge as a reader, so I wanted to keep it a secret. In that case, what am I supposed to discuss with the editor? I can only talk about superficial things...that’s what I did for the longest time.

And though I’d been so eager to stop, I said that I wanted to keep going a bit longer during the last half-year...which was why I kept dropping off the manuscripts late every week. It seems that the printers always had to wait until the very last minute for my manuscripts.

The final chapter of Tokyo Ghoul was meant to be a train wreck

Ishida: I’d originally planned to finish it December of last year, but I said, “I’m sorry, I need another 3 months.” I increased the extension bit by bit, and I ended up lengthening it by about 6 months.

When I told the editorial department that I’d be done in 10 chapters, they prepared the cover page of the final chapter’s issue. But right before the deadline I told them, “I’m sorry again, I need 3 more chapters…”

Takahashi: I was reading that issue of Young Jump where it was supposed to end in 10 chapters. I was completely deceived (laughs). I saw the cover and it said, “Tokyo Ghoul climax.” So I thought, “Is it finally over?” but when I read it it just kept going on.

Ishida: When I told them I needed 3 more chapters, it was too late by then. Most likely every department was under chaos then, but I hope you can sympathize with the Young Jump editorial department.

Is that the reason why Tokyo Ghoul was on the back cover of the final chapter’s issue?

Ishida: It is. Thanks to the kindness of the editor-in-chief, he suggested that Tokyo Ghoul could get a cover if it was on the back.

I often see final chapters on the front cover, but it’s kinda cool to have it on the back instead. It might even be better to have the reader see Kaneki and Touka on the back so they can read it and think, “It’s really over.” It wasn’t what I was necessarily aiming for, but thanks to the editor-in-chief’s stylistic sense it made that back cover possible.

The final chapter went from a train wreck to a happy ending. Did you have a chance to change your mind?

Ishida: Probably...once I was aware that the ending was approaching, I lost all meaning of value behind a train wreck ending. At first I thought, “Let’s shock everyone and make myself disappear,” but then I realized that I was misconstruing that as cool.

Nonetheless...the endgame had some parts that were definitely messy, but I changed them to be positive. I’m fine with it not being good, as long as it’s got some definitive answers. That happy ending is also a train wreck in its own way (laughs). I thought that that kind of train wreck would be more interesting.

Takahashi: That ending completely shocked me. “He got me,” I uttered.

Communicating, continuing, ending

How did you feel when you were asked to collaborate with Tokyo Ghoul once again for “You of Paradise”?

Takahashi: As we got to know each other, we’d inevitably talk about the anime. I couldn’t refuse when I was asked to compose the ending song when I’d been watching the course of the final chapter from up close, and been utterly deceived and shocked by it.

...but I was scared.

Why did you think that, even though you achieved it last time without any major hiccups?

Ishida: I think it’s that feeling of, “did I strike gold?” There’s a lot of luck involved when you’re extracting gold from a lode. He was able to do this naturally during the cabs era.

Takahashi: I could compose music almost as if those lodes were exposed to the open.

Ishida: When I asked him to do “You of Paradise”, I got the feeling that he was thinking, “Where can I dig from...” I think he was afraid that he wouldn’t be able to dig up that lode. Though I thought he was going to be fine.

How do you think it turned out when you tried composing it with that fear in mind? Were there any changes, compared it to “Incompetence”?

Takahashi: “Incompetence” being all over the place was because I was all over the place.

Up until now I’ve been making music and thinking that I can’t convey my ideas well. When I was in the band, I’d never really been able to express my thoughts so I gave up. I thought it was an impossible feat for me.

“Incompetence” was a song that I tossed out into the world, without any hope that I’d be able to express such a warped feeling. For a while after that song was released, I hardly ever listened to it.

But Ishida-kun and my friends who are still playing in bands...I’ve watched them keep on going or reach a proper end no matter how many years passed by. They’re doing it right.

I came to the conclusion that it was dishonest of me to give up on expressing myself from the beginning when the people around me have been working hard and doing their best.

Sui-sensei, have you ever thought that you couldn’t convey something when drawing your manga?

Ishida: I definitely have.

Takahashi: Sounds like you’ve given up.

Ishida: Maybe, since I have to draw every week. If I don’t follow a set routine then I become overwhelmed very quickly. This means that I’m working on one panel at a time, but I can’t convey my ideas well that way.

And it’s not the reader’s fault, it might just be that I’m not good enough. I couldn’t figure it out no matter how much I thought about it, so I gave up on the issue of not being able to properly convey my ideas.

To be honest, I don’t really feel anything from people reading my stuff. I can’t physically see you reading the manga, and I can’t gauge how you really feel about it by asking how many copies you have. It’s to the point where sometimes I’ll notice someone reading it at a convenience store and think, “I finally found someone.” It makes me think that being a mangaka is a lonely profession.

Takahashi-san, did you compose “You of Paradise” after reading the final chapter this time?

Takahashi: I read it this time (laughs). At first, the song I was using for the ending before “You of Paradise” was some ridiculously abstruse piece. After I sent it to Ishida-kun, he told me, “To be honest, it’s got the things that I want to express and it’s packed with lots of stuff, but I want you to compose a really simple piece that anyone can listen to and enjoy.” And so it got rebuilt and that’s the song you see today (laughs).

First, face what you’re trying to convey. Don’t whine about how you can’t convey your ideas if you haven’t tried in the first place. That’s what I thought. If you start thinking, “I can’t do it in the first place,” you’re running away. Take that first step. It feels like I can now pursue universal virtues.

Ishida: It’s a challenge, huh.

Takahashi: I’ve thought about just giving up in defeat. When I first saw that the final chapter that Ishida-kun wanted to make a wreck of had turned into a beautiful and happy ending...he seemed to have chosen to end it by having it speak to people universally. I was shocked by it, and the desire to go along with it bloomed in me. If Tokyo Ghoul can have that kind of ending, then I can make the music to match it.

You seem to have changed a lot as a person over the last 3 years.

Takahashi: I had a musical spirit who would always whisper in my ear, “You’re that kind of human being, aren’t you?” When it disappeared after having stuck around since my band days, I kept my distance from it. But I feel refreshed now since I think I should finally put an end to my issues.

Ishida: “You of Paradise” is the only song appropriate for that kind of ending. No other song can work.

After a 2 hour interview, Ishida and Takahashi vanished into the streets of Shibuya to go watch a live performance of cinema staff, to which Iida Mizuki, the guest vocalist for “You of Paradise”, is a member of.

As an aside, the name of the cabs live tour that was never realized after Takahashi suddenly disappeared, was called “You of Paradise.”

END OF THE INTERVIEW.

Translator notes:

I think I need to clarify on what I mean by ‘train wreck’. When I say it, it refers to something in ruins, complete shambles, destroyed. Essentially a tragic ending, akin to chapter 143 of :re, so Ishida was thinking about having TG end in tragedy. I chose to use the term ‘train wreck’ and ‘in ruins’ over ‘tragic’ because they have slightly different connotations (台無し vs. 悲劇). It’s the reason why I would consider TG chapter 140 (when Kaneki ‘dies’ to Arima in V14, looks like an end to a classic tragedy play) as tragic ( 悲劇) and TG:re chapter 143 (when Kaneki loses to Juuzou and Hanbee and shit hits the fan for everyone) as 台無し (train wreck/ruined).

#Tokyo Ghoul #Tokyo Ghoul:re #Ishida Sui #Takahashi Kunimitsu #osterreich #Interview #Translations #my translations

[rkchwev-blog]

awake - jbj95 outfit | line distribution dance: ( 00:00 - 00:18 ); ( 00:56 - 01:05 ); ( 01:09 - 01:12 )

this was not a situation he thought he would even make it to. perhaps it was the residual lack of self confidence that still stormed its way through his mind at the most inopportune of moments that made him think this way but each week that passed where his name was not called during eliminations felt far too surreal for him to simply acknowledge his presence on the MGAs as a solidified fact. nothing was for sure in this show nor was it in this business and so he made it a point to not take his continued chance for granted. he’d have to come back stronger each time.

he was aware of his position when compared to the other contestants. or rather… his lack of position. when it came to rappers he was competing against a former idol of a group he was actually a fan of and a fan favorite that everyone seemed to love in their interviews. he’d gotten a few commendations but he was never really suited for variety and so his screen time when compared to others was lacking as well. he had what he had going for himself and he needed to make that work else he would be buried alive by the others.

this was something he was sure he had foreseen happening when the next challenge was announced. duos. pairs. a partner.

it rendered him speechless at first. who was she? oh she had been commended by the judges. so she had to be really good. what kind of music would she like? would their images match well? would they be able to keep up with each other? would they even get along? so many thoughts were running through his head and they’d not even had the proper chance to greet one another before they were directed back to their seats.

surely this was going to be a fucking disaster.

however he couldn’t have been more wrong. all of the nerves he went into their collaboration with were soon melted away after their first practice. he would have to adjust to working with others in that regard and sia definitely put him to work. her anxiety inwardly made him anxious. it was written all over her face just how nervous she was, how worried she was about everything. that instability rattled him… but he could empathize with it. he knew firsthand how crippling anxiety could be and not even for the sake of the show but simply for her own peace of mind, he did everything he could to assuage her worries and fears.

he brought food for them from work to eat and get energy for their practices. she seemed at ease when talking about her cat and so many fun stories were exchanged along with promised playdates. she grew comfortable and song suggestions began to enter the conversation and from her observations, she made brilliant suggestions that when he looked at and listened to them, he could see himself within the performance. his music was taking an upward turn. happier. able to connect with others without drawing on the negative. the lyrics of awake especially drew him as he imagined yeji and what she meant to him. the love he felt for the song was instant.

things were progressing smoothly.

they grew closer as they practiced and the more they interacted in the studio and in messages sent back and forth, the more it became easier to be comfortable as they established a natural chemistry to translate into their performance. a week was a short amount of time to fully know someone but they were at ease with each other and there was a mutual trust that their futures were in each others hands and that they were truly in this together. he was the better dancer of the two – a truly relative position to have when they were both beginners – and though they only selected short snippets of the choreography, they wanted it as perfect as possible. the moves would brighten the song – the entire atmosphere they were going for – and they wanted to make sure it remained an asset and not something detrimental.

there was an adjustment period for him that he couldn’t ignore though. to rap someone else’s lyrics as though they were his own. it was odd. having to follow someone else’s flow when his own flow switched up and changed on his own whim was something he had to find comfort in to be able to find confidence in someone else’s lyrics. he had to suspend his own creative difference from the original lyrics and instead find himself within them and when he approached it differently – as though he were looking at a script – pieces began to fall into place. yeji. this was for her.

they went shopping to agree on outfits for the stage and though his hair was such a hassle in his eyes, they were able to agree on a look that would be comfortable for them both and keep the youthfulness and playfulness of the song alive. it was different than what he was used to but when they wore their outfits in the store and stood with one another in the mirror, he could really see the picture come together. the loving atmosphere of the song. their skills. their stage presence.

this would work. he could feel it.

—–

the day had finally come.

he’d woken up that morning feeling really good and though he was nervous about performing with someone else in a genre that he was beginning to adventure into, he was glad that he was getting the chance to do it with sia. they both had a quiet kind of charisma and it seemed like it would be hard for them to burst out of their shells but when they were on stage it was an entirely different concept. what was practiced was performed with natural execution and what was improvised was received and reciprocated with comfortable chemistry. her greeting made him smile, the trademarked words of hers followed up with his own casual introduction that he’d adjusted to since joining the MGA’s. “hey, i’m vernon.” they interchanged as they spoke about the song, a smile rising to his eyes as he spoke into the microphone before they took their spots. “hopefully this gets you thinking about your first love in the best of ways.”

they circle round each other in the beginning of the choreography and each snap is achieved with practiced rhythmic accuracy. not a beat was missed. sia’s voice lifted up from behind him with their backs pressed to one another and he used the opportunity to use what his former pr agent said was one of his best assets: his face. he smiled a charming smile that colored his salted caramel hued eyes a playful happiness that when he thought of the lyrics shone just a bit brighter as he knew his own first love was right there in the room with him, the look directed back towards sia appropriately. the way the bass of the song underneath the building dance beat kept him entranced energized him and the confidence he had on stage kept him easy. he was thankful for his continued dance lessons that removed the stiffness from his moves in the little bits of choreography they’d decided to use so as the spotlight was turned over to him with a gracious smile from the lovely sia, the weighted microphone was brought to his lips to give the listeners a deep contrast to the bright lightness in sia’s voice as he had a mischievous warmth that would suck them into the bass drop.

Ay 깊은 안갯속에 난 길을 잃어가 너란 빛을 따라가 네게 닿을지 몰라 I’m falling down 끝이 없는 걸 어서 Baby 나를 깨워 줘

he kept the fun in the delivery as the entire song radiated an addictive energy, his hand coming over his cheek as though he were asleep, his eyes closing, with a light shake of his head before he opened them as though surprised, a smile beaming across his features at the cute act. not a single word was missed, his clear and audible delivery something he prided himself on with each syllable tended to in order to keep the freshness of love in each word. he gives sia the stage with an exit as though being pulled away towards her, the tug on his sleeve turning his effervescence her way with a hand naturally coming up to affectionately rest at the hair at the crown of her head as his lines begin again, bringing himself to separate away from her as he clutches his chest as though separating was driving him crazy to find his spot for the highlight of their performance.

매일 봐도 모르겠어 Baby 니가 보고 싶어 Oh crazy

as the chorus began and their voices fell into sync – a harmony they worked hard together to achieve with sia’s singing abilities coming in handy to find a tone they could fit together with his very minimal experience – they fell into the choreography that embodied the bouncy exhilaration the song was composed of, his smile sincerely one that showed his enjoyment of what he was doing. they had perfected the parts they were able to do as a craft and seamlessly transitioned the parts they were unable to do out for different moves that would instead express their overjoy. they moved together, one after the other, to form the heart they had worked into the chorus, his radiant smile tamed as the bass dropped and he sucked the audience back into his words. because every word had importance and he gave them attention to give them meaning that he could feel and that those who were feeling a really strong love could feel.

you wake me up with your mind you wake me up with your mind you wake me up with your

You wake me up with your You wake me up with your mind

I’m on your side, you’ll be my sign 조금씩 빠져들 거야 더 흐릿하던 날들은 너로 선명해져 I got you now 널 보면 Lose my mind

너의 향기로 차올라 Eh 나의 맘은 벅차올라 Eh 잡은 두 손 꼭 놓지 마 Eh

he rode the bass of his rap, his body naturally bobbing to the rhythm as the mix of english and korean dispatched from him showed his deep affinity for hip-hop in the emphasis he put on the rhymes exuding a charisma that he felt in his confidence as a rapper and that was something he never doubted. but he kept it spirited to match the lively dynamic of the song, his hand coming out before him to gesture as he looked directly towards sia as though rapping to her, his smile playfully smitten and mischievous with all the tenacity in his shining caramel brown eyes of a man 100% sure of the woman that he wanted. he dropped the mic as he looked at her, her lines taking over his eyes on her forming deep set crescents as she hit her notes as though he were proud, his eyes still set on her even as he delivered his next lines, lightly taking her hand for the second line before breaking free from her again to find his position for the chorus once more.

매일 봐도 모르겠어 Baby 니가 보고 싶어 Oh crazy

you wake me up with your mind you wake me up with your mind you wake me up with your

You wake me up with your You wake me up with your mind

their choreography for the chorus burst through refreshingly once more, his adlibs in the back filled with energy as he released a happy ‘whoo’ and ‘come on’ in the empty space between their synchronized lines until they were made to come together once again, their heads coming to rest together instead of a heart to end off the song. her finger hearts go up and his hands form a circle over his mouth that he bites into a heart, the exhilaration of the stage still very strong for him even as he bows before they take their exit.

for all of the doubts that he had going into the stage, he performed at his utmost confident state, allowing himself to really feel the song and get into it while syncing with his partner to create a fun, playful and innocent stage depicting all the wonders of a first love. the entire time all he could think about was yeji. he’d performed it with her in his heart and he hoped that she could feel it and he hoped that everybody who watched could feel their love in their hearts too.

#rkmga5 #rkmga5duos #rksihyeon #rkyeji #wc: 2158

[idolizerp]

LOADING INFORMATION ON OLYMPUS’ LEAD VOCAL JUNG DAEHAN…

IDOL DETAILS

STAGENAME: Han CURRENT AGE: 27 DEBUT AGE: 22 TRAINEE SINCE AGE: 13 COMPANY: Midas ETC: for his extensive commercial/variety work this member is known as the nation’s it boy

IDOL IMAGE

From the way that Midas often presented him, it was no surprise how much of a shock if others were to find out his true personality. Growing up terribly restricted by his family rules as well as pandering to his own likings in secret had cultivated a melancholic and yet careful personality for Daehan. He was anxious with people most of the time, their approval the greatest thing that he desired, most if not all of the time. Needy—perhaps, one might describe him to be, but all he yearned for was approval and recognition—at least from those that he considered close to his own heart. Even the simplest praise would light a soft smile upon his handsome face, his heart easily content with the recognition he would earn.  

Being scouted at the age of 13 meant that he had potential—Daehan liked to believe, but also gave him an opportunity to step away from the birdcage that was his family and into another place where he could, perhaps, make it all on his own. Entertainment, Music, Singing, Music Production—all the different parts of his dream that would come together when Midas selected him out of the many that had auditioned that day. But hope is something iffy and tricky, and Daehan learns the hard way that Midas selected him not for his singing talents or his musical production aspirations and musical skills—but for his looks.

The next door neighbour kind of boy, the romantic, handsome, cheeky and yet suave on television. He had a beautiful face to market that look, and the cheeky curves that would curve on his features when he smiled. He was a perfect candidate for the romantic boyfriend concept they had in mind for at least one of the boys in Olympus. And so he was taught the way of selling himself like an ideal boyfriend. Variety shows, commercials were lined up one after another, his background only serving as something much more enticing to the audience—a dreamy eyed boy abandoning the regular things for something much more unpredictable, wild and fun. It was the breaking of the moulds of obedience and hierarchical structure that most of the his fans saw in his bravery and openness about his family not supporting his work, and the romantic but dutiful son that constantly thought about them, filial and understanding, yet charming and cute as well as attentive.

Midas marketed Daehan as someone who encompassed everything that the girls wanted for their boyfriends, and what the boys desired to be in the future—the dreamy eyed nation’s boyfriend was the concept that Midas feverishly sold him for. It was close enough to Daehan’s own sweet and understanding personality, though without the melancholic and contemplative parts, especially with how cheeky and flirty they told him to act to whenever on various interviews and variety shows. It was awkward for Daehan to accept, even if it was as similar as it could be to his original personality—acting cute was something that he couldn’t do well, though Midas continually drilled into him of making this his special appeal. Eventually, he became used to what they demanded of him, and his supposedly drilled so far into him that it became something of a reflexive second nature to be flirtatiously charming.

He didn’t like the way he turned out, even though his fans gradually came to understand that the occasional shyness that seeped through was a part of his personality—and that only increased his appeal to them. Daehan didn’t like being fake to others—it made the connections with them seem unreal and unrealistic, but there still were things that one needed to do—for survival.

IDOL HISTORY

They say that third sons of the third sons are always the unfortunate ones. That the curse itself wouldn’t affect the first generation but the subsequent one—Han’s family was always secretly superstitious like that—though Han supposed that, with whatever that happened to him throughout his life with his family, that it was the truth that he was quite the unfortunate one.

After all, he was the third son of a third son, the youngest and the runt of the Jung family, who had their claws and teeth deep within Korean politics, medicine and diplomacy. The Jungs were cold people, vicious but beautiful, their lives all planned like map lines on a guiding map, with a hierarchical structure and a place for everyone to where they supposed belonged—and for Daehan, it was more or less the same. He’d been born the youngest and the weakest link of the family, but blessed with extraordinary looks compared to his brothers, as well as the brains for an above average intelligence. One would say that he was blessed—but with such blessing came the curse of having to live up to expectations, and expectations in the Jung family were always more than just a simple A on a piece of paper or a lovely drawing declaring love for your parents. No—it was much much more, always far too much, especially with Daehan’s two older and more outstanding siblings. But still, people said that Daehan was lucky, because his father had intended to skip his two older sons and make him the heir of the family and company, following, for once the idea of merits over legitimacy. But Daehan felt no liberation from his father’s intention, nor luck from all the secret congratulations. It only gave the dreamy eyed boy, who aspired to write, sing and love music more pressure within the bird cage that had kept his wings duly clipped.

He should have been happy with what he was given—Daehan knew, because there were so many others much less fortunate than him—but family felt like a metal collar that he couldn’t rid, slowly constricting around his slender neck.

His road had been planned out right from the start for him–an effortless Road to a doctorate and being a doctor, the future of working in the same hospital that his second brother did, and achieving great things that were supposed–had to be greater than the rest of his brothers to prove his worth.

That was the demand his father asked, no–ordered of him.

You’re the one I want to choose to be heir, son. Don’t disappoint me.

But all Daehan wanted to do was write and sing the beautiful pieces that fell from his lips and fingers, and the order from his father was like a chain of shackles that tied him deep down into the barren earth and enslaved his flighty feet.

….

His room became his only saving grace, the splash of colours that weren’t white and gray a beautiful relief for his tired eyes and lonely soul, the music production tools that he’d bought with his pocket money and the beat of music of his various compositions the only comfort and reprieve that he could work with.

It was the only relief that he had, studying intensely to follow that route and path his parents had displayed for him, until fate forcibly carved another pavement for him to follow his heart, with the announcement of Midas auditions.

For the first time in his life, Daehan disobeyed his parents in secret, the first time of exhilaration of disobedience and defiance hitting him in his veins as adrenaline as he gave the best performance of singing that he had ever given that day, cheeks flushed and dreams of hope deep within his brown eyes.

He never expects to receive the contract from Midas that soon, a deep hope stirring in the pits of his stomach as he tells his family of the news that he’s going to be an idol at Midas, since they called him back from the audition that he’d done behind their back.

He’s not prepared at all for the dead silence in the midst of the family dinner, the sounds of chewing and clanging of cutlery no longer filling the air like a melodious piece of deadened music.

“Daehan’s only kidding, father.” The first thing that leaves his eldest brother’s lips is words of denial. “I’ve been tracking his work, and he hasn’t been doing anything of that sort.”

“I skipped school that day, and told someone to cover for me.” Their disbelief makes him blurt the truth out in the most vicious way possible, the words cutting a chasm between him and his family that he never knew would last for the rest of his life.

“Step out of the house for whatever this Midas thing is, and I’ll have one less son. I already have two, so either way the loss is yours over mine.” Never had his parents words cut so deep, and with that tearstreaked rebelliousness, Daehan packed his bags and left the Jungs with his head held high.

If as a thirteen year old trainee life wasn’t hard enough, Daehan learnt that what was treasured within the confines of Midas was not the freedom that he had so naively believed. Did he think innocently that he’d be allowed to produce his own music for his own group?

Perhaps.

Had he been foolish enough to think that people would listen to his creative inputs?

Yes.

In the end–he’d simply flown from one lofty cage to another, with chains slowly bogging down his body and his feet.

….

His trainee years are more than silent, the comfort that he feels in being be able to at least do a fraction of what he truly desires to be making him much more satisfied than he had ever been with his family.

There were downsides to being a trainee of course, the debilitating downside of diets as well as constant practices had nearly made him collapse from exhaustion, leaving him with some minor dieting problems that he ended up managing to work around with, and when he finally debuted with Olympus, Daehan had never felt more relieved.

With how long he had been with the company, he always felt that he had something missing, and that was the reason why Midas didn’t see him fit to debut in his earlier years, only debuting him when he turned 22. But he needn’t have worried. Midas had needed a male with his face for the group, that fitted the image of an ideal but charming, all rounded boyfriend– and with him in their reserves, Daehan was immediately drafted into Olympus.

He supposed that he got along well enough with his group mates. That was at least his perception and the perception that they put on for everyone to see. Olympus did well with their concept, and Daehan gradually realised that even with only just part of his dream realised, the exhilaration of being on the stage and putting out music that others enjoyed was something that he gradually came to enjoy from the depths of his heart, apart from the commercials and the variety shows that Midas placed him in to spread word for his ideal boyfriend image. Commercials were easy, and variety shows even easier, with all the training that Midas had put him through with moulding to his image and personality till it was nothing but second nature, though much if it was thankfully enough—close to his own original personality and character.

But idol life was not without the ups and downs of a dating scandal. It had been a rumour that cropped up due to a variety show filming that he was in, Roommates, where at least 11 other idols were selected to live and room within a house. Whilst many had praised him for his kind, gentle and yet romantic boyfriend ways that seemed genuine onscreen, rumours spread about him being in a relationship with one of the female idols in the show itself–a scripted romantic line by the producers that had taken off due to their chemistry and playful flirtations with each other that never crossed the line.

Such romantic lines were troublesome, he would learn, more for the female than himself, because the one that was shaded badly in the scandal was not the nations boyfriend–but the girl that had apparently, stolen his heart. Midas threw themselves into clearing that stain from his image, declaring that he was unattached and single, and very much loyal to his group and fans, silently insinuating with him to not get too close with the other girl in the romantic line, and as time passed, the rumours and heated fan wars gradually died down. But the damage had been done–the impact much less to himself and more to the female counterpart of his in that romantic line, and Daehan remembered quietly apologising to the girl silently after filming for the issue. The issue had been brushed off fleetingly, but Daehan had always been a tad more sensitive than others to the issue, and it moulded for him a more careful personality onscreen than previously before.

As the years passed, and Daehan gradually came to the understanding that Olympus were no longer the ‘it’ group of the industry, having faded ever so slightly as their status as idols became from junior to seniors. But still—relevance was vital to the survival of a group, and even more important to the decision of whether Midas would keep them safely in its embrace—and for that, all of the members in Olympus worked more than just hard in securing themselves solidly in their place, especially with the up and coming boy groups seemingly threatening their various positions. With everything in place for Olympus, Daehan could now focus more on his aspirations—more commercials? Variety shows? Maybe..perhaps. What he wanted to do, however, was to try his hand at the musical production that he’d been isolated from for so long. Perhaps, he thought—he might finally see that long hidden dream in his heart come alive once more.

#id.bio #id.midas #id.olympus #id.park hyungsik

[sakurasakiyama]

Goodies I’ve Received During My Offline Period! ❤

Since it’s always been a tradition for me to share with all of you what I’ve received on arrival of some of the DVDs, CDs, Magazines and Good’s that I buy; I thought I would make a *little* post of some of the things that I have purchased and has arrived since being offline! :D This won’t be as long since I haven’t purchased much since I was away due to pre-ordering and a hectic December, but I try my best to keep up with what I can :) And a head’s up that some of the photos have the flash on since my room is at the back of the house and the light doesn’t come through my window xD

There’s a lot to get through, so all of it will be under the cut (especially things that could be spoilers) ♥

1. Di Kita Malimot Drama DVD & Magazines!

I pre-ordered the Di Kita Malimot DVD back in August last year. I was really excited to see the Drama for the first time, and I wanted to have a copy of the extras as well as the visual book that came as a bonus. Unfortunately since I don’t have a Blu-Ray player for my laptop (as it’s a laptop without a disc drive), I was only able to watch the extras once on the Blu-Ray player I have in the living room for the TV when no one was home xD The Drama itself is quite funny and good to watch! You’d see them act in ways that you never thought they would, which is a good pick-me-up on days when you’re sad and in need of a laugh xD Overall, the Drama was definitely worth the wait! :D And, the visual book has a text mistake in it as well that was pointed out to SLF, and they made a note on the item page for those who purchased it. But they didn’t request for people to send it back, only to just be aware of it and what the part was meant to say. 

The magazine contents for all of them are amazing (especially the photos ♥), and the magazine’s in that photo are:

CDJournal October 2018 Issue

B’s LOG November 2018 Issue

Stage Fan Vol. 3 Issue

Cast Size Summer Special 2018

JUNON September 2018 Issue

JUNON November 2018 Issue

2. Stage Stars & Sparkle Magazine’s (Present)

These were one’s that I didn’t buy myself, a friend ended up getting them for me as a present in November! :D This was actually a big surprise for me since I didn’t know that they were going to get them for me, it just arrived at my door xD So, at least this post allows me to say thank you to them for getting me these magazines and I love them very much! ♥ The magazines here are Stage Stars Vol.3 and Sparkle Vol. 35 :)

3. UTOPIA Albums & Sakiyama Tsubasa Birthday Event Goods

I’ll start with the Birthday Goods first xD I pre-ordered them the second pre-ordering started, which actually happened to be during my lunch break when I was doing my teaching placement LOL! But, there’s a long story with these and the UTOPIA albums. Due to December being a busy and a not very financial month for me (I went on a trip to the city, I had to pre-order the Toumyu nendo’s, and I had to pay for subscriptions, phone bill and Christmas presents), I had to put off getting these shipped out to me (along with the albums), until January this year. Luckily I got paid on the first of the month, so I was able to get them shipped out as fast as I could xD They arrived to my proxy around the end of November. The bromides are literally dangerous and cute, and the pamphlet photos are just as perfect, along with the interview being quite deep interesting! ❤ The contents in this photo are:

Birthday Event Pamphlet

Birthday Event Bromides A, B & C (there was no bonus for getting all 3 of them as that was only during the event run)

Birthday Event Ball-Pen (Pink) & Automatic Pencil (Blue) (it’s one of those pencils that you push on and the lead just comes out, so you don’t have to sharpen it, just buy lead refills xD)

Next is the UTOPIA Albums xD I pre-ordered these in November and they arrived the day before release day to my proxy xD I wanted to have them as a Christmas present, but because of the lack of funds was an issue for me in December, I had to wait >.< I got them online which included the online purchase bonus with 2 RAW photos per album (one as a bonus, one as an extra), and there’s 2 in each of those 4 holders. With the RAW photos and the Trading Cards, let’s just say that bad luck is still on my side, and you’ll know what I mean in a moment xD

After listening to all of the songs in full for the first time (excluding “Dancing☆Samurai” thanks to KENZO and TOMO from DA PUMP collaborating with Tsubasa to make a Music Video for the cover of the song by doing the choreography and producing the MV), I fell in love with all of them instantly! ❤ The lyrics for them all have a purpose behind them and you can really feel the emotion in his voice. For the songs Tsubasa wrote the lyrics for himself, “Re:quest” for Kurogarasu and “Snow Gift”, I was really proud and amazed by them! The lyrics for “Re:quest” gives that dark, powerful vibe, which i feel links perfectly with the theme of his main starring movie “Kurogarasu”. “Snow Gift” was a lot more softer and kind of brings out his loving side. But it could also be perceived as him and his passion and never wanting to let go of it. This is his first time writing lyrics, but I do hope in the future, he will be able to write more songs and let his feelings come through ♥

As for the MV, MV Making Video & Special Movie, the short MV of UTOPIA gave us a preview of most of it, so the last part was a total mystery, and it was really beautiful ♥ As for the other 3 MV’s that were on there, I STILL love them to this very day xD The MV Making Video was short but sweet :) They just showed some of the places he took photos at and a couple of other little things that I had a good laugh at, as I had my suspicion that the Special Movie would give the full making in Macao. And I was right xD But I still loved the Making Video since there was some good shots :D The Special Movie was really good! ♥ The way it started I had a bit of a laugh at, but it was really cute. It follows through the 2 days he was in Macao doing his MV shoot and the photos as well for the cover, trading cards, and etc. He really did seem to have a lot of fun and was grateful to be able to do it in Macao, and Tsubasa would still have his little antics here and there as well xD Overall, I loved all of it! ❤

These are the RAW photos I got: 

I got doubles AND triples LOL! As expected of me to end up with the random draw like that, but I still love all of the photos anyway! ♥ They’re all of Tsubasa’s good sides and he’s really attractive in them all ❤ And if anyone has any doubles that aren’t in this photo and I have one of the photos in the triple and double that you’d like to trade with, by all means don’t be afraid to ask! :D If not, I might sell them or do a giveaway xD

The Trading Card bad luck continues to play with me and get worse each time xD So, I’ll let the photo speak for itself:

THEY’RE BOTH DOUBLES LOL! So, I ended up with 2 out of the 5 this time. It’s the same with Crescent Moon, except I got 3 of the same in that one xD I got the two top ones in the MV and Special Movie editions, and the bottom two in the photobook and CD only editions xD The trading card photos are really cute (not to mention quite good looking ♥), and I was super anxious when opening them as well as the RAW photo bonus also. Again, if anyone has a double of the other trading cards and you don’t have one of the ones in this photo, I’d be glad to trade with you! :D If not, again I’ll either sell them or do a giveaway :)

4. Surprise Birthday Present

Since what I’ve purchased is a surprise birthday present for a friend, I’m not going to show or say what they are (hence I took a photo of what it looks like from behind, and put a line in it to keep it as a surprise as it had the name of it on the back xD) since their birthday is still a while away and I don’t want to ruin the surprise! xD I got these off Mercari for a reasonable price and brand new! Thank you to the lovely An, @beansproutsong, for helping me purchase these for me through her proxy! ❤ I have used her a few times and her service fees are very reasonable for second-hand goods and her service is literally 10/10 in every way possible! So don’t be afraid to message her here on Tumblr or on Twitter (@Angelic1408) if wanting any goods that you can’t get shipped overseas, or from second-hand sites! :D She’s one of the friendliest people (out of the many others who are friendly too) who is willing to do a personal proxy for everyone, so don’t be afraid to ask questions or get a inquiry on something :) More info about her proxy service can be found: HERE

#Goodies I’ve Received During My Offline Period! ❤ #Sakiyama Tsubasa #Di Kita Malimot ~The Young Men of Ousen~ #JUNON #Cast Size #Cast Size Summer Special 2018 #CDJournal #Stage Fan #B'sLOG #Sparkle #Sparkle Magazine #Sparkle Vol. 35 #Stage Stars Vol. 3 #Stage Stars Magazine #Sakiyama Tsubasa 29th Birthday Event #UTOPIA

[army-author]

taehyung scenario | x and o

❝ You accidentally send ‘xo’ at the end of a text to your daughter’s teacher, and he seems to get the wrong idea... ❞

➸ prompt: My ex will be at the Christmas party, so you agreed to pose as my fiancé to keep them away.

➸ pairing: teacher taehyung x parent reader

➸ warnings: mentions of alcohol, brief mentions of bereavement

➸ requested by anon | 11.4k words | fluff, teacher au

In the busy whirl that is the life of a single parent you’ve done some pretty stupid things – like running out of the house in your pyjamas to try and get your daughter, Mia, to school on time, or accidentally giving her your lunch of chickpea salad while you went to work with her sandwiches made with teddy-bear shaped ham, or forgetting to check the weather before driving her to school on a snow day, only to realise your mistake and ending up needing to call in sick off work so you could stay home with her.

But out of all the stupid things you’ve done, distracted by the blur of days that are never long enough, this is by far the stupidest. You stare at your phone in horror, gaping down at the ‘xo’ send at the end of the text. That was not meant to be there. How could you absentmindedly tack on kisses and hugs, normally reserved for your mother alone, and accidentally send them to Mr. Kim, your daughter’s young, and unnaturally handsome teacher?

If only you could delete texts… if only you could delete yourself…

‘That would be fine xo’ was certainly not the appropriate response, to ‘Hello. This is Mr. Kim. I got your number from the school office. Sorry for the bother, but would it be possible to reschedule our parent-teacher meeting?’

You bury your head in your hands with a groan, having a mental breakdown as you sit alone in the car, waiting for Mia to come out of her singing lesson. Why do your brain and your fingers hate you, typing out things you don’t intend? You debate sending another text to explain yourself, but then decide that doing so will only make the whole situation more awkward. So instead you leave it, and pray he’ll just think you’re the sort of person that sends ‘x’s and ‘o’s to everyone.

Thankfully, Mia’s coming out of class now, clanging open the car door and clambering in, offering her bubbling conversation as a welcome distraction from your screw up.

“Hello!” she beams, clicking in her seatbelt and chucking her folder of music into the backseat.

“Hello, Mia Mouse, how was it?” you ask, which causes her to puff up her cheeks, and complain:

“You know I don’t like that nickname…”

“Sorry, Mia,” you keep smiling, “I’ll try to remember.”

Mia’s in the middle of a phase, starting when she hit the grown-up age of eight, where she’s decided that she doesn’t want to be cute anymore, and has discarded her old nickname, along with her old clothes, all shades of pink. Now she wears purple and blue, always opting for jeans, although you still sometimes see her staring yearningly at the sparkly section in the kids clothing section, not completely over her ‘girly-girl’ phase, despite her efforts to convince you otherwise.

“So, how was singing, Mia?”

With you now addressing her correctly, Mia goes on to tell you all about her class, how she got through her scales easily, and how her teacher complimented her for her technique. “She even said that if I keep this up I’m bound to get a solo for the school’s Christmas play this year,” she tells you, bouncing up and down in her seat, as you pull out of the singing teacher’s drive and head towards home.

“Wow, that’s amazing, Mia!”

As you drive through the bright lights of town, the accidental ‘xo’ is completely forgotten…

♡♡♡

That is until the day of parent-teacher interviews - then it suddenly hits you again as you sit alone outside Mr. Kim’s room, looking at the displays dripping colour, showing off the scribbly drawings of the children in Mia’s class. You jog your knee up and down as you wait, restless and anxious, realising you’ll have to explain yourself when Mr. Kim calls you inside. Maybe he’s forgotten, or doesn’t even care. A handsome man like him must be used to single parents flirting with him by now. If their lives are anything like yours, parent-teacher meetings may be the only time for flirting. There’s zero time for finding yourself a boyfriend while caring for Mia. You barely have time to care for yourself, you think, with your eyes self-consciously falling to the worn nails of your fingers, well-chewed from the stress of work and child rearing. You wonder how many numbers Mr. Kim gets slipped during these sorts of meetings, how many dates he’s been asked on over his desk. You shake your head to clear yourself of these thoughts and the impure jealousy that rises from them.

What’s it to you if the handsome teacher gets attention from women confident enough to show their affection? You’re happy in your own little bubble, just you and Mia, living contentedly together. Developing a crush is pointless. You try yo convince yourself of this.

The door opens at last, and Mr. Kim’s husky voice reverberates in the hall as he says, “Sorry for the wait. Would you like to come in now?”

You gather up your bag and coat and follow him into his classroom, splashed all over with bright colours, times tables pinned up on one wall, another wall showing off the children’s dabbling in poetry and painting, and in the far corner is the class Christmas tree, covered with decorations handmade by the children.

“Thank you so much for agreeing to reschedule our meeting,” Mr. Kim says, as he sits down at his desk and extends his hand to offer you the space across from him, “I’m sorry if this is inconvenient for you.”

“Uh… no… it’s fine,” you say, trying to keep yourself from staring as you sit down. You’re struck once again by just how handsome Mia’s teacher is. You’d forgotten it from the last parent-teacher meeting, your mind going rusty after all those months. Seeing him again is a shock to the system, battering down the imperfect copy your mind had created. With your lips feeling numb, despite the heaters in the school being switched to max, you press them together to get them working again, and quickly say, “About the text I sent you… the ‘x’ and ‘o’ were an accident. I have a habit of adding them to my messages without thinking… it wasn’t meant to mean anything… just in case you thought I was… flirting or something…” you trail off, disconcerted with Mr. Kim’s eyes boring into you.

He crosses his hands in front of his face, creating a bridge for his chin to rest on as he listens. “Well, yeah, I had expected so much… it would be odd for you to be so forward.”

You blush, and fiddle with your hands in your lap, absentmindedly picking at your ragged nails. He’s not wrong, but it bothers you that he’s able to pick up on your personality so easily from the few parent-teacher meetings you’ve had, already pinning you down as the type to send ‘xo’ by accident, rather than on purpose. Feeling the need to defend yourself, you ask him, “How would you possibly know how forward I can be?”

Mr. Kim raises his eyebrows over his hands. “Because I have to deal with women who actually send me ‘x’s and ‘o’s on purpose, and they do an awful lot more than just that when we meet in person... Did you know that the mother that came in before you spent the entire meeting trying to play footsie with me under the table?”

“No!”

He leans forward. “That’s not all. When I went to shake her hand afterwards, she tried to lean in and do the European-style greeting, you know, with, like, kissing on the cheeks and stuff.” His eyes glitter as your own widen. “So, I figured since you’ve never tried anything like that with me, you probably didn’t mean those ‘x’ and ‘o’s. It was just a guess though.”

“I can’t believe you had to deal with that…” you say, “These meetings aren’t meant for flirting… they’re for our children.”

“Yeah… well…” He leans back in his chair again and shrugs, “Not all parents are as committed to their child’s education as you apparently.” He laughs mirthlessly. “But the flirting has certainly got a lot worse for me since I broke up with my girlfriend.”

This is new information for you. In fact, him having a girlfriend in the first place is news to you. You make a point of not delving too deep into the personal lives of your daughter’s teachers.

“That’s rough,” you nod sympathetically, as Mr. Kim’s eyes droop slightly, probably recalling all the trouble the break-up has caused him.

His hand falls to his mussed brown hair, carding his fingers through it as he sighs, “Yeah. Wish she hadn’t been so vocal about it on Facebook… she probably knew the trouble it would cause me.”

You look down to inspect your nails, an excuse to stop staring at Mr Kim, whose face is like caramel candy for your eyes. All calories.

He lets out a brisk laugh, more of a bark, saying, “Guess that’s what I get for dating a teacher! Let me give you a piece of advice, never date a co-worker. Not only do you have to see them every weekday, but they also know all the worst parts of your job and know how to make them even worse!”

Somehow this parent-teacher meeting has evolved into a therapy session for Mr. Kim, who seems unbothered or unaware that he’s unloading all of his problems onto you. You wonder if you should direct the conversation back to Mia or leave him free to ramble. It’s late in the evening, and he’s probably flagging after having to deal with so many other parents, some of which don’t seem to know what personal boundaries are, so you decide you should cut him some slack if the meeting is a little disorganised. You hum softly, to show your understanding and let him continue:

“And what’s worse, whenever your boss organises any kind of meet-up, you end up having to see your ex outside of working hours as well. Like at Christmas parties. Christmas parties! They’re the worst when you’ve had a break-up, did you know that? She’s going to ruin it for me… and Christmas parties used to be my favourite thing as well…” His lips press together, as he licks them, considering all his problems. Then he gives himself a shake and says, “Anyway, Mia!”

At last the meeting gets back on track. But you can’t get rid of the feeling that Mr. Kim still has more to say on the subject of exes, that the meeting took too sharp a turn back on course, and that something is expected of you after his tangent.  You get the sense that he wants to ask you something, but you can’t decide what it is. With this question clouding your mind, you try to listen as he explains how Mia’s grades are going, not telling you anything you don’t already know – Mia is doing well with music and art, but won’t show any interest for maths. You bite your lip, wishing you were better at maths so you could help her with that.

When that the meeting starts wrapping up, painless, no problems, Mr. Kim tells you, “Mia seems happy, she gets on well with the class, and she’s a delight to teach.” Your cheeks glow with pleasure and pride, hearing him praising your daughter.

As he collects his papers together, tapping them against the desk to straighten them, you grab your bag and coat, standing up ready to leave, before he halts what he’s doing, and says, “Actually… could I ask you something?”

You pause, the niggling question you had wedged in your head popping up again. “What’s that?”

He licks his lips, pink tongue poking out for a split second before he says, “Well… since you seem like a sensible person, with a good head on your shoulders… what do you suggest I do for the Christmas party?”

Your mouth freezes again, stuck slightly parted as you stare at him, caught, like a deer in headlights.

He smiles at you, only one side of his lips rising up.

“Why are you asking me?”

“Because,” the other side of his mouth finally rises up into a symmetrical grin, showing off straight teeth that make you understand why the mother he met before you had tried playing footsie under the desk. “You and I are friends now.”

“Friends?” you repeat.

“You sent me ‘x’ and ‘o’s at the end of your texts, and I decided to keep your slip up a secret, instead of laughing about it with my colleagues in the staff room. That makes us friends.”

“What? So doing the decent thing and keeping your mouth shut somehow… makes us friends?”

He shrugs, “It’s enough for children to consider each other friends. Sometimes I think adults should try to live as simply as kids do. Life would be a lot easier that way.”

Not entirely sure how much you agree, you still admit that the idea is nice, but not nice enough to pull down your sceptical brows.

“Listen, how about I tell you a secret, and then we’ll be even?” Mr. Kim grins, sticking his hands in his pockets. For a split second he reminds you of the young children he teaches, looking like a school boy ready to break a few rules, rather than a grown man, responsible for the education of twenty children. Before you can tell him that you don’t need to hear it, he leans forward a little, and says, “I left our class hamster food next to my ex’s lunchbox last week so that it got covered in seeds and hamster litter, and then I blamed it on the children.”

“That’s incredibly petty,” you say.

He just winks. “Don’t tell anyone.”

You shake your head, fighting off a smile that seems inappropriate. “Well, if that’s the way you play, then for the Christmas party: I say you make your ex suffer. Especially after all the trouble she’s caused you with flirty parents…”

His eyes light up, and he begins rubbing his hands together, “See, I knew you were the perfect person to ask! What would you suggest?”

Caught up in his schoolboy glee, you can’t help but go along, letting your own mind run wild with childish vice. “The Christmas party would be the perfect time to show her how well you’re getting on without her.”

“Like… I’m earning more money and living in the lap of luxury without her?” he asks, brows furrowing with confusion. Despite the evil glint in his eye, he’s sweetly innocent when it comes to making trouble for his ex.

“No, no,” you shake your head firmly, “I’m talking about getting on well romantically! Go to the party with a new girlfriend, or better yet, a fiancé, and show your ex that you don’t need her… and if it gets out that you’re with someone new, then maybe your problems with overly… interested… parents will go away as well.”

“But I don’t have a fiancé...”

“I'm not suggesting you actually get one. Just pretend. To get your ex off your back.”

He stares at you, mouth hanging open. You worry you’ve frayed a wire in his brain with your your plan. But then he’s leaping from his chair and rushing around the desk to grab your hands in his own, bowing his head to you, “You’re god level when it comes to this!” he gasps, eyes rising up to meet yours again, “I’m not worthy. Thank you, thank you!”

You can’t help but laugh at his genuineness, releasing yourself from his hands with a shy shrug, “Well… I do what I can…”

“Will you be my fiancé then?”

You stop, shock crashing into you, leaving you speechless and breathless. You swallow, and finding your tongue once more, manage to stutter, “I didn’t mean with me. I – it was just a suggestion. I wasn’t-”

“Please?” He clasps his hands together, “I thought we agreed we’re friends, and a friend would do this for another friend.”

“No. You agreed that we’re friends,” you remind him, “I had no say in it.”

“You were the one who sent me ‘xo’ on your text.”

“By accident.”

He closes his eyes, “Please. Help me out here. You can’t suggest such a good plan, and then leave me hanging with no one to carry it out with!”

You consider carefully, then tilt you head to the side. “Fine.”

His eyes light up.

“But on one condition.”

His eyes go dim again.

“If I agree to this, then you have to get Mia a part in the Christmas play this year. She’s been working hard on her music, and she really wants to be in it.” You’re not doing this if there’s nothing in it for you... besides a handsome fake fiancé for an evening that is.

Mr. Kim stares at you for a few seconds. You can see the cogs working in his mind. Finally, he nods his head. “Alright, I’ll see what I can do!” The he sticks his hand out to you. “Do we have a deal?”

You should know better, but, somehow, you find your hand in his and the fate for your Christmas holidays is sealed. “We have a deal, Mr. Kim.”

“Please, it’s Taehyung. We’re friends now.”

♡♡♡

As Christmas draws closer, your anxieties grow worse, and with Mia running to the car after school to you to tell you that she got the solo part for the Christmas play, you can only smile, while secretly dreading what you promised in payment. Seeing her face lit up with joy reminds you why you asked for it to begin with, and you know you need to bear the burden of it. Seeing her happy is all you want, and if one night of feigned romance is all it takes, then you’ll do it gladly.

“Well done, Mia Mouse,” you say, “You deserve it!” And although you know that she does, there’s a small seed of guilt rooted in your heart, reminding you of the cost of her happiness.

She doesn’t even seem to notice the unwanted nickname as you start up the engine and pull out of the school car park, casually adding, “Mr. Kim was asking about you by the way.”

You choke on a yelp of surprise, supressing it, since you don’t want your daughter to get suspicious. “Oh, really… did he?”

“Yeah,” Mia grins across from her seat, “He asked me how you were, and then he told me to tell you that he said hi. Wasn’t that nice of him?”

“I suppose it was,” you say, trying your best to concentrate on the road, while your mind is racing elsewhere.

“I really like Mr. Kim,” Mia decides, as she stretches her feet up onto the glove box.

“Feet down, Mouse,” you remind, and she kick her legs back again with a sigh, before continuing:

“All my friends say Mr. Kim’s very handsome. Do you think he’s handsome?”

Suddenly it feels as if the Spanish Inquisition has begun in your car.

“Well… I suppose… he is classically handsome…” you answer, “He looks like he could be an actor, or a model.”

“But do you think he’s handsome?”

You just shoot her a quizzical look. “Why all the questions?”

Mia shrugs her shoulders, turning to look out the passenger window, “I don’t know…. Just… don’t you think it’s time you got a boyfriend?”

“Mia!” You almost swerve off he road in your surprise, but quickly correct your steering, while you try to adjust your voice to a volume more appropriate inside the car, “What’s brought this on all of a sudden?”

“Well… it’s just… all my other friends’ parents are married, or they have boyfriends or girlfriends. I was just thinking… since everyone’s parents will be going to see the Christmas play…” she trails off, leaving your mind reeling. All her life you’ve tried to keep her happy, straining to fulfil the roles of two parents at once, and sacrificing your own time and happiness for it. But you know there are some things you just can’t do, things that a father could. It has crossed your mind multiple times that you shouldn’t stay single, even if you only want a boyfriend for her sake, but there’s never been time, you’ve never had the energy, and she never seemed to be bothered by it. Until now. Maybe she’s only just starting to realise that something’s missing.

After a long silence, only the road rumbling below you for accompaniment, she asks, “Do you still miss dad?”

“Of course. Every day. But I believe he’s somewhere better now, watching over us.”

She smiles to herself. “I like to think that as well. Even if I don’t remember him. Do you think he’s proud of me for getting the solo?”

“Absolutely,” you tell her.

With that, the subject of boyfriends is dropped, but that doesn’t stop your singleness from burning in your mind for the rest of the day.

♡♡♡

As you sit in your room that evening, with Mia tucked up in bed, (although you know that she’s still up from the light peeking out under her door), you stare at your phone, scrolling through the lists of dating sites on offer. There’s bound to be one out there specifically made for single parents. The bright light burns into your retinas as you search, the itching reminding you that you should sleep.

You drop your phone onto the bed. It was a silly idea in the first place. As if online dating will fix everything.

But then you remember Mia in the car, wishing she could have a father to watch her in the school play, and you pick up your phone again, clicking on one of the more promising sites. You’re almost ready to sign in, finger hovering over the screen, until a text flashes up, blocking your finger with the words, ‘Mr. Kim Taehyung’. You pause, wondering why he’s texting… and at this hour…

You tap on his message to open it up, and read:

‘Well, Mia’s in the school play, so I suppose I should propose to you now. I’m looking forward to seeing my new fiancé at the Christmas party ;) The dress code is ‘smart casual’ by the way xoxo’

Despite knowing it’s all a joke, you find yourself smiling fondly at your phone screen. He’s not planning on letting you forget the ‘x’ and ‘o’s any time soon.

You reply back:

‘Wow. What a romantic proposal… not... I’ll see you there xoxo’ just to continue the joke, and then set your phone down and turn over in bed, the idea of dating sites dropped for now.

After all, signing up for that would be cheating on your fake fiancé. You can worry about finding a boyfriend once all this is over. You convince yourself that’s the reason for leaving the dating sites alone, but you know there’s more there, lurking below the surface, stemming from Taehyung’s interest in you. It would be foolish to assume his jokingly flirty texts mean anything – he’s unaware of his affect ninety percent of the time. But he’s not completely clueless, and you wonder if he knows what he’s doing with you.

You curl your toes under the duvet, and fall asleep with a grin on your face.

♡♡♡

The school looks different at night. This is the first thought to strike you as you park in the driveway, ready for your evening serving as Taehyung’s fake fiancé. Well, as ready as you can possibly be with a storm of butterflies in your belly.

You left Mia happy at home with the babysitter, who she insists she’s old enough to not need, although you know better. Now, you have nothing to worry about, except whether or not you’ll make a fool of yourself in front of Taehyung. The chances are highly probable, but you still find yourself smiling as you hop out into the freezing air, wishing you’d brought a coat to compliment your sweater dress and uncomfortable high heels. With your arms crossed around you to hold in as much heat as possible, you run to the school, using the side door that Taehyung promised to leave unlocked for you. You head to his classroom, where he’s still crouched over his desk, marking papers. He seems completely absorbed in his work, not even getting up to switch on the light, he sits in the dark, squinting at his work.

You rap lightly on his door, and he looks up, wide-eyed, like he forgot he invited you over to his room before the party started.

“Hi,” you hold up your hand awkwardly, not sure if you’re interrupting him from the flow of work.

A smile breaks across his face when he sees you, and he quickly jumps up from his desk.

“Hello,” he purrs in that deep voice of his, “I’m glad you didn’t bail on me at the last minute.” He almost goes for a hug, but then decides against it at the last moment, and instead offers you a quick pat on the shoulder, as he surveys your outfit. “You look good!”

“What about you?” you take in his well-fitting trousers, red tie, and white shirt, tucked in to accentuate his slim figure, “You look amazing!” you can’t help but gush. Amazing is an understatement. He really does look like a model. “You said it was smart casual,” you complain, “There’s nothing casual about this!”

He looks down at his outfit. “You don’t think it’s okay?”

“Well, no, it’s fine,” you tell him, “But I’ll feel underdressed standing next to you all evening.”

“What?” He pouts his lips, “But you look so pretty. You’ll be fine.”

He might say that, but you still feel embarrassed about your simple dress, and black tights, with no jewellery to set it off. Self-consciously, you wring your hands together.

“Oh, before I forget!” Taehyung dashes back to his desk and hunts about in the drawer by his seat, pulling out a small box, “I got this to make our story convincing.”

He opens the box and pulls out a shining ring, with a diamond sparkling at the centre. “Give me your hand.” His voice is low in the darkened room, pulsing through you like a tremor in the earth below your feet. Body responding to him before your brain does, you hold out your hand, and he takes it in his own, slender fingers wrapping around yours as he pulls you a step closer, and carefully slides the ring on. With his hand still supporting yours, you admire the shine of the diamond on your finger.

“Where did you get this?” you ask, staring in awe, “I hope you didn’t go out and buy this just for me.” It’s meant as a joke, but then you remember his recent break-up and the thought shoots through you, violently, like a bullet, that maybe this was intended for his ex.

He quickly dispels your worries, with: “It was my grandma’s.”

“Your grandma’s?” You gape at him, “Are you sure it’s okay if I wear it?”

He grins, “It’s fine. It’s what she would have wanted.”

“For you to use it to get revenge on your ex?” You raise your eyebrow at him, and he offers a wide grin in return:

“She had a good sense of humour.”

Still unsure, but happy that he deems you worthy of his grandma’s heirloom, if only for one night, you remember: “We should probably come up with a good story before we go out.”

“Oh right!” he frowns, “How should we say we met?”

You fall silent, thinking, before you decide, “Maybe we shouldn’t stray too far from the truth. We can say that we met at a parent-teacher meeting.”

“Yeah,” Taehyung nods, “And then I was interested in you, so I asked if we could grab coffee together sometime… but you played hard to get…”

“Until I thought about Mia and how she would need a good male figure in her life,” you say, blushing at how close it is to the truth.

Taehyung hangs for a breath, considering what you’ve said, “And when you saw how good I was with children, and how well I got on with Mia, you decided I was the one.”

“And the rest is history.”

You stare at each other in the half-light, Taehyung’s pupils dilated without the sun. For a second you almost let yourself get swept up in your made-up romance, tantalisingly close to reality. It could almost be true, but it’s just out of your reach.

“I like that story. Let’s go with that,” Taehyung nods, breaking the spell, as he goes to grab his blazer from the hanger by the door. His designer clothes look odd hanging off one of the pegs designed for children’s coats. He puts it on, and then gives a spin for you, “Do I look okay?”

You beckon him over, and when he reaches you, you stretch out your hand and hook your finger through his tie, loosening it slightly before you pull out the top button. “There, now you look a bit more casual.”

He chuckles, a deep sound at the back of his throat. “You know I have to tell off my students when they don’t have their school ties neat, so this feels a bit hypocritical.”

You shrug with a smile, “What your students don’t know won’t hurt them. It can be another secret we share.”

His smile widens, lips parting. “Alright.” He reaches out his hand to you, and you take hold of it. With one shake, he promises, “Partners in crime.”

“Partners in crime.”

As you leave the room, you keep your hand in his, lacing your fingers together – just as practice for later, when you’ll have to convince his ex that you’re in love.

♡♡♡

The school Christmas party is being held at the bar and restaurant in the next street over from the school, but a few of the teachers are meeting up outside the front doors to walk down together. As you approach the crowd, you feel your stomach dipping, and grab Taehyung’s hand a little tighter. “Is she there?” you whisper, to which Taehyung answers:

“No. No sign of Inna yet. I’ll warn you when she shows up.”

Two men spot Taehyung and come over, smiling. You fix on a smile, despite the worry pricking your skin.

“Well, Taehyung, who’s this?” The taller one asks, “We didn’t know you were seeing someone.”

You freeze under their curious gazes, but Taehyung, as if it’s the most natural thing in the world, announces, “This is my fiancé.”

The two men’s faces go slack in surprise, while Taehyung, seemingly oblivious of their reaction, explains to you, “These are my friends, Namjoon and Seokjin. We’re the three Mr. Kims of the school, and we ended up getting to know each other when all of our photocopying would get sent to the wrong Mr. Kim.”

You chuckle as he tells you the story, but can’t remain completely ignore the shocked stares you’re receiving from the other two Mr. Kims.

“Taehyung?” the taller one, introduced as Namjoon, exclaims, “You’re engaged?”

Taehyung turns back to them with an innocent smile, eyes devoid of anything worthy of suspicion, “Yeah!”

“And you didn’t tell us?”

Taehyung scratches at the nape of his neck, “Well… after what happened with Inna I didn’t want to go around announcing my latest adventures in love… but things are going really well, obviously,” he holds up the hand that holds yours, showing the shining ring on your finger, “So, I guess this is our announcement.”

Seokjin and Namjoon just stare at him blankly. “No way,” Namjoon says, “There’s no way.”

With a husky giggle, Taehyung raises his hands up in defeat. “Okay… you got us… actually, keep this between us four, but we’re just pretending to be engaged to keep Inna off my back…”

Namjoon frowns, dimples pressing into his cheeks as his lips thin into a line. Seokjin on the other hand, seems excited by the idea, giving Taehyung’s arm a light push. “Mr. Kim number three! That’s sneaky!”

You incline your head towards Taehyung, raising your eyebrows in a question. “Is it okay that they know?” you ask.

“You can trust these two,” he says, “They won’t tell anyone.”

After all you had shared with Taehyung, you feel oddly let down that he had so easily revealed your plan to these tow men. Betrayal might have been an over-exaggerated reaction, but there’s no other word to describe the nibbling in your chest.

As the group starts moving towards the restaurant, ready to meet the other teachers who are already there, your feet drag and Taehyung ends up pulling on your arm a little to keep up with his co-workers. His head turns back as he walks, face lit up with the blues of the Christmas lights. “You okay?” he asks, “Too cold? Do your feet hurt in those shoes?”

You shake your head. “No, I’m fine.” But already he’s moving back, shrugging off his blazer for you, and offering you his elbow to relieve some of the weight off your high-heeled shoes. With him fussing over you it’s hard to stay upset, even if you do feel some childish disappointment stirring in your gut because your secret doesn’t belong to just you and him.

You barely have the right to be upset in the first place; you can’t explain why you feel upset about it, let alone try to relate it to him.

With Taehyung helping you along, the scent of his cologne leaking into your head from his blazer, you walk in silence behind the rest of the group.

“So, how’s Mia,” Taehyung asks, making conversation as you try to keep balanced on your heels.

“She’s good,” you say, face softening into a smile when you think of her, “I left her with a babysitter, which she was a little upset about. She’s at that stage now where she thinks she’s old enough to stay home by herself… maybe that’s me being too protective.”

Taehyung shakes his head, a laugh rumbling through him, “No, a babysitter’s probably for the best, although the name ‘babysitter’ isn’t so good. Kids don’t like to be called ‘babies’ and they certainly don’t like to be ‘sat’ on.”

The joke is stupid enough to make you crack a grin. “Yeah… with Mia there certainly won’t be any sitting happening anyway. The sitter will be on her toes all night!”

“Mia’s great,” Taehyung rumbles, “Always so cheery when she’s in class. And so full of energy.”

Your chest swells with pride when you hear this.

“And so talented too,” Taehyung continues, “Maybe I shouldn’t be telling you this now, since you might feel a bit cheated, but she actually got the choir solo without any of my input… so I guess I didn’t even uphold my end of the bargain.”

“That’s my girl!” you smile, so overcome with pride that you can’t get angry at Taehyung’s deception.

On a high from your daughter’s accomplishment, you finally arrive at the restaurant, and all your good feelings come crashing down, to leave cold fear. Your hand grips at the fabric of Taehyung’s shirt as the other teachers who were waiting at the restaurant wave you inside, babbling over who should sit where and how nice everyone looks.

“Which one’s the ex?” you ask, tugging on Taehyung’s sleeve to keep his attention amidst the buzz of noise.

Taehyung nods in the direction of a woman sitting at the far side of the table, conversing with some friends. “That’s her,” his voice sounds distant, something you’ve never heard in his tone before, “That’s Inna.”

You sneak a glance at her, as casual as possible, and feel your insides wring themselves out. She’s absolutely stunning, dyed blonde hair hanging in waves around her slim face, strong make-up making her look like she just stepped out of a beauty magazine. She really does seem perfect for the model-like man by your side. You’re struck by your own ordinariness compared to her, and despite not even being in a real relationship with Taehyung, you feel your confidence departing you in tatters.

She glances over, sensing your looking her way, and her false-eyelash eyes narrow when she spots your arm through Taehyung’s. She mutters something to her friends, and then stands up, giving you a display of her tight-fitting back dress, sparkling down to the middle of her thigh, showing off well shaped legs, accentuated with tall heels. She walks over, a lot more confident in her stilettoes than you are in your own small heeled shoes.

“Taehyung,” she coos, and his eyes widen at her tone. You’re not sure if he’s surprised to see her talking to him, or if he’s struck by the dress that leaves little to the imagination, but you see him lick his lips nervously, before he responds:

“Inna. It’s been a while.”

She smiles, but it doesn’t quite reach her eyes, which stay glued to the ring on your finger. “Yes, well… I figured since it’s Christmas I’d try to be nice. You know… season of good will and all that.”

Taehyung winces a half-smile. “That’s good of you.”

She giggles, high-pitched and breathy. It’s the kind of laugh you used when you were in high school, trying to make boys look your way. “And who is this, Taehyung?” she finally looks to your face, acknowledging your existence as more than an arm attached to her ex. Her brown eyes sparkle bright as she sweeps you up and down. Embarrassed, you drop your gaze to the floor – the room suddenly swims with heat and the smell of wine.

“This is my fiancé,” Taehyung explains.

“Fiancé?” Inna’s voice rises above the murmuring of her colleagues, turning to you with her mouth hanging open in exaggerated surprise, although you can see something else, much more sinister burning below the surface, “Wow. So soon?” Her smile is scarier than the most furious of glares, and you feel as if she’s stabbed you in the face with her bitter-cocoa eyes.

“Yep,” Taehyung pops the ‘p’ in his response, souning oddly terse compared to his normal tone. This whole thing is getting more and more awkward by the second, and it suddenly strikes you how bad this idea is.

Taehyung continues, “When the right one comes along, you just know, don’t you, baby?” He nuzzles his nose into your neck, skin cold against you, and you bite down on your surprise, smiling through your shock.

“That’s right.”

“I’m so lucky,” Taehyung breathes against your skin, and even though you know it’s a show for Inna, you can’t stop your heart from missing a beat. Maybe he’s spooning in on a little too thick now.

You see Inna’s lips pucker in a scowl, before she softens out her pretty face again and smiles, “Well, isn’t that just great!”

There’s an awkward silence, and then she continues, “Well, anyway... my boyfriend’s taking me on a trip to France next month.”

Jealousy is already rippling out from her, and you’re not a minute into conversation. You swallow, not sure if you should laugh, or bolt away before she rips your face off - those unsmiling eyes in her smiling face promise your pain.

As Taehyung stiffly mutters about how nice France will be, and how she should take advantage of all the good food while she’s over there, you feel a hand slide around your shoulder, and Namjoon and Seokjin appear at your other side, saying, “Taehyung, we’re just going to steal your fiancé away for a split second.” Before you or Taehyung can protest, they drag you out of his hold, and towards the other group.

With the air clearing the further you get from Inna, you breathe a sigh of relief.

“We thought you needed some help,” Namjoon says, “Inna looks about ready to claw that ring off your finger.”

“Will Taehyung be okay?” you worry, glancing behind to see him standing poker-straight, feigning interest while Inna talks.

Seokjin nods his head. “We’ll give them a second alone to sort themselves out, and then we should probably keep them away from each other for the rest of the evening.”

You can’t keep your gaze from straying back to Taehyung as his friends lead you around the group, politely introducing you to the other teachers. Your stomach squirms uncomfortably seeing Taehyung talking with his ex, and you wonder what’s wrong with you. You can’t be worried about him being with his old lover when you don’t even count as a new lover. Still, you can’t relax until he manages to detangle himself from the knots of Inna’s conversation, and escapes back to your side.

“You okay?” you ask him, as he slots his hand back into yours.

“Yeah. She just kept on talking about how nice her boyfriend is, and how much money he’s spending on her…” you see Taehyung’s jaw tensing as he talks, and rub your thumb up and down the back of his hand, soothing.

“Do you think she’s jealous?”

“Jealous?” Taehyung looks at you, “What do you mean?”

You raise your shoulders in a small shrug. “What I mean is… in her mind you’ve left her and got on with your life. You’ve got it all settled. She’s trying to prove that she’s got everything she could want, that she’s just as happy as you…” You let out a sigh through your nose, “Sorry… I came up with this idea just to keep her off your back, but maybe it made the whole situation worse.” But even as you explain this, another possibility is burning bright in your head: that Inna isn’t jealous of Taehyung for getting his life sorted out, but she’s jealous of you, realising what a great guy she got rid of.

As her eyes burn through you from the other side of the room, you become more convinced of this possibility, and a curiosity niggles at you. How exactly did Taehyung and Inna part ways… and is there a possibility of them getting back together? You glance up at Taehyung, who’s refusing to look back at his ex, and swallow before asking, “Sorry if this is too personal, but how exactly did you break up with her?”

Taehyung’s sides heave in a deep sigh. “It’s… not too personal. But it is a complicated story and I was never good with words-”

Before he can even start, the man you recognise as the headmaster is tapping his wine glass with a spoon, and saying: “Dinner will be served soon, and before we all take our seats, I’d just like to say a few quick words.”

“Ha!” Taehyung mutters under his breath, “When he says quick words what he really means is a ten page pre-made speech.”

You can’t help but giggle at this, and quickly disguise it as a cough, while the other teachers fall silent, listening.

By the time the headmaster is done thanking everyone, your feet are aching in your shoes, and it’s a relief to sit down at the table next to Taehyung. For a second, as Inna passes your spot, you worry that she’ll sit down next to you and make the whole evening awkward, but instead Namjoon and Seokjin quickly slot themselves into the seats around you, and Inna ends up at the other end of the table, out of sight and out of mind.

The rest of the dinner passes by in a blur of lulling conversation, and a few glasses of wine to make the meals melt together in a swirling of jokes and laughter. It’s pleasant, sitting by Taehyung’s side, with him smiling and laying his hand on top of yours on the table when the occasion calls for it. You had forgotten what it was like to go out without Mia, but this is a pleasant reminder.

Before you know it, your dessert plates are being taken from you, and a few teachers are waving goodbye, while another group talk about going upstairs to the bar for a couple more drinks.

You’re aware that you should get home to Mia, but Taehyung’s colleagues are pulling him back, saying, “Come on, Taehyung. It’s not like you to go home early.”

He pauses, stuck between the hold of his friends and your own hand wound in his. He looks back to you, clearly torn, and you know how bad it will look if you separate now.

For a second you worry he’ll give in to his friends, but then he shakes his head, stepping towards you. “Sorry, but my fiancé needs to get home soon. We’ve left Mia with a babysitter, but I’m sure she’ll want us home soon.”

Your heart swells with gratitude, thankful that he explained it for you, not leaving you to flounder among his friends that you barely know.

But his co-workers are unconvinced, cajoling him – “Just one more drink. Don’t tell us that getting engaged has made you boring!”

Inna choses this exact moment to insert herself into the conversation, saying, “I never thought you’d be the type to go for someone with kids, Taehyung.” Her voice is icy, and you don’t know if the frost is directed at you or at Taehyung, but it makes you shiver, despite the heat in the room.

Taehyung gapes at her, clearly lost as to what he should do, searching his brain for what to say. In your hand, you can feel his fingers damp. “Well… Inna… like I said, when you meet the one, you just know, you know? And I love Mia as well. I really do. She’s a part of the family…”

Inna sniffs, and then shoots you a look you can’t quite fathom. With the exchange clearly finished, Taehyung’s friends butt in once more, and with one firm tug on his arm, pull him towards the bar, saying,“Mia can wait. You don’t mind, right?” Not wanting to cause a scene, you bend:

“One more drink’s fine.”

And so, you find yourself being pulled up the stairs to the blaring music of the bar, and the burning bright lights of the small dancefloor set up at its side.

“Sorry you got dragged into this,” Seokjin murmurs to you, as the group detaches you from Taehyung, herding him towards the bar to order drinks, and with Taehyung turning back to give you a guilty grin, you press your lips together in a line, and turn your attention to the other Mr. Kim.

“It really is okay. Mia can handle herself,” you tell Seokjin. You know it’s true, but you still feel bad. It’s already approaching eleven o’clock and you said you’d be back at half ten.

“I don’t know if you’ve realised,” Seokjin says, “But Taehyung’s pretty popular at our school. He’s sort of known as the mood maker among our co-workers, and we all joke that a party can’t be a party without him. That’s why it’s important he stays… even if it’s only for a little while.”

“Really?” you watch as Taehyung frowns over the bar menu, and then gives his order to the bartender, adam’s apple moving as he shouts to be heard over the music.

“You’ll see what I mean,” Seokjin offers you a wink, and then moves over to talk with Namjoon, while you slide back to Taehyung’s side again.

“This is okay, right?” he asks, as his rum is slid over to him, “You’re not just saying it’s fine when it’s really not fine?”

You nod. “I said I’d be home by half ten, but Mia’s pretty independent, so she won’t be worried… I just hope the babysitter has the sense to put her to bed soon. She’ll be grumpy tomorrow if she doesn’t get to bed early…”

Taehyung chuckles at this, “Yes, I’ve seen her grumpy in class. She’s certainly a force to be reckoned with.”  He takes his rum in one gulp, and then sucks in a breath through his teeth with the alcoholic burn. “We’ll leave after a few songs, okay?”

You nod as he slips from your hand, shrugging off his blazer and handing it to you. With a smile your way, eyes bright, he heads for the dancefloor, loosening his tie. He means serious business when it comes to partying, and you can’t help but smile after him, while the other teachers begin cheering as he steps onto the dancefloor.

As the next song starts up, you’re not entirely sure what you’re expecting. With Taehyung this could go either way - he could take dancing completely seriously, or he could make a whole joke out of it. It turns out that it’s a mixture of the two. He begins striking strong poses, with legs and limbs twisting, all in time with the music, and all completely over exaggerated, while still looking like they could be the ending poses of a fashion runway. You end up laughing along with the other teachers, and every so often, he’ll shoot a glace to where you stand at the edge of the floor, gauging your reaction, and obviously happy when he sees you grinning at him.

As you wait on the edge of the group, you sense someone sidling up beside you, and turn to see Inna by your side.

“Hi,” she offers you a smile, and you return it, as polite as possible.

“Hello.”

“Um… listen…” she curls a strand of bleached blonde hair around her finger, “Can I talk to you… somewhere a bit quieter?”

Your stomach twists, worrying what she could have planned for you. You’d rather not agree, but you don’t want to be rude, so you shrug, “Sure.”

She heads back towards the stairs leading down to the quieter foyer of the restaurant, and you have no choice but to follow behind, but not without shooting a glance back to the dancefloor, desperate for help. Taehyung pops into your vision for a split second in between all the other bodies, and his brows raise quizzically at you, while you give him a look that translates roughly to: “I have no idea what she wants with me, but I’m scared”.

On the ground floor again, Inna turns to you, and you cross your arms defensively, asking, “What do you want?”

She sighs, running a hand through her hair, before she says, “Listen, I know I might have come across as a little bit… cold tonight, but I don’t want you to take it the wrong way. I was just... um... surprised that Taehyung’s already thinking about marriage! And to someone who already has a child as well!”

“What’s wrong with having a child?” you ask, ready to shield yourself from whatever judgement she might throw.

“Well… you know,” she raises her eyebrows as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world, “It’s just extra baggage. And I didn’t think Taehyung was… mature enough to handle that.”

Irritation stirs inside you, “Actually, Taehyung’s amazing with children. You should know that yourself, seeing him in school everyday.”

She snickers, “Yeah. Only because he’s a child himself!” She raises her hand to her mouth, and clears her throat before continuing, “Ah. Maybe I’m coming off as rude again. I really don’t mean it.”

You’re believing it less and less every time she says it.

“Seeing Taehyung acting so mature now, I thought maybe I should start acting a little more my age myself,” she goes on, “And since I’m an adult, I’d like to tell you that I don’t have any bitterness towards you, even if you are with my ex. I can move past that. And I think it would be nice if we became friends.” She smiles sweetly at this, extending her hand to you.

She seems to have the same ways of securing friendships as Taehyung, settling it over a handshake. But this feels different from when you agreed to help Taehyung. Something in her smile warns you that there’s more to her than her sugar-coated words, and you keep both hands firmly by her side, refusing her offer.

She scowls as you remain motionless.

“Sorry,” you say, “I think… it would be best if we just kept to ourselves. You’ve broken up with Taehyung for your own reasons, and I think you should try to stay out of each other’s lives now.”

“Oh, I see how it is,” she snaps, acerbic as she jerks her hand back to her side, placing it on her hip, “Whatever. If you’re worried about me, then don’t be. I don’t want him back. You’re welcome to him.” And with that she storms off.

Seeing her terse reply is enough evidence that you did the right thing. From her track record of passive aggression, and her complaining about Taehyung all over social media, you already know she only wanted to use you as yet another way to get back at her ex, as if she hadn’t made his life miserable enough. She can’t seem to let go of her anger. You feel a little sorry for her, and for her new boyfriend. Only a little.

Returning upstairs, you decide it’s about time you went back home. Taehyung’s still busy on the dancefloor. As he spots you in the crowd, he waves you over and you read his lips moving, trying to shout over the loud music, “Come dance!”

“We need to go now,” you try to tell him, and he frowns at you, obviously not hearing you over the thrumming beat. You try again, raising your voice, but he still looks totally lost, instead just shouting, “Come on!” and you let him pull you onto the floor, holding your hand as he continues to make a spectacle of himself in front of his co-workers. You bow your head, hiding your face in his shoulder to escape the embarrassment as he keeps moving. But as you nestle closer to him, his movements becoming smaller so he doesn’t end up hitting you with one of his wild limbs, and the other teachers begin cooing over how cute the new couple is, and now you’re embarrassed for a completely different reason.

As the last chords play out, you take the small gap of silence before the next song to say, “We really should go, Taehyung.”

He nods in agreements, and you sigh in relief, seeing the end of the night finally in sight. With Taehyung making his rounds through the group, saying goodbye and shaking hands, you finally feel your body relax.

At the door, you hold out his blazer to him again, but he shakes his head. “It’s cold outside, keep it.”

And with that, you open the doors to the frozen December air and step out, waving final goodbyes as the door swings shut on the noise of the restaurant. With your breath billowing in clouds, Taehyung offers you his arm to help you walk back to the school again, where your car waits with heated seats and a short drive back home.

“Thank you for this evening,” Taehyung says, as you walk down the street, now quiet with everyone either busy partying, or wrapped up at home. Each step is becoming more painful for you, so unused to your high heels.

“It’s no problem,” you say, forcing yourself to smile, even as your face fights to wince instead.

“I really appreciate it,” Taehyung goes on, “I’m not good with words, but… I guess, if you were one of my students I’d give you one hundred gold star stickers. You did an amazing job being my fiancé.”

You can’t help but chuckle at his explanation, but then end up wincing again, and stop in your tracks.

“Hey, is it okay if I take off my shoes? These heels are killing me.”

“In this cold?” Taehyung asks, while you bend down to undo the buckles, and step out of the prison of straps. Even on the frozen concrete, feeling your soles flat again is deliciously soothing.

“It’s okay,” you say, wiggling your toes in your tights, “It’s not too cold.” You say this with another clouded breath misting from your mouth to completely debunk your argument.

Before you can say anything else, Taehyung kneels down in front of you, offering his back. “Get on, I’ll carry you the rest of the way.”

“I’m fine Taehyung,” you say, picking up your high heels and stepping around him, “My car’s only a street away.”

“Exactly, it’s only a street away and I can carry you no problem.” Without any more warning than that, you feel his arms wrapping around his waist and the world tips upside down as he heaves you into a fireman’s hold.

“Taehyung!” you hit at his back, trying to argue through your laughter, “Put me down. I can walk.”

“Sorry,” he hums, “But if you won’t accept a piggyback from me, then this is the only way I’m letting you travel back to your car.”

“Okay fine!” you admit defeat, “I’ll take a piggyback! But not this. Please.”

Satisfied, he sets you down again, and you skirt around to clamber onto his back, arms locking around his shoulders. With a gentle “hup” he lifts you up, hands firm on your legs, as he holds you up and continues walking towards the school.

You go on in silence for a short distance, only hearing your heartbeat thundering in your head, and Taehyung’s gentle breath as he walks.

At last, he cracks the quiet, asking, “What did Inna want with you?”

“Oh…” you’re taken aback by his question, but continue, “She wanted to apologise for her behaviour… said something about wanting to be more mature… but I don’t think she really meant it.”

Taehyung laughs at this. “Good. I was worried she might say something nasty. I was going to go down and get you myself, but the other teachers kept holding me back, and… well, you handled it yourself anyways, so I guess you didn’t need a knight on shining armour after all.”

You rest your chin against his shoulder. “You never did explain why you broke up.”

Taehyung is silent for a moment, and you wonder if he doesn’t want to tell you, but then he says, “We both had very different ideas about what we wanted from a relationship, I think. She always thought I was too childish, and that I wasn’t responsible enough… I guess I kind of was… I was scared of ever committing to her. You know, we’d been dating for quite a long time, but I never mentioned marriage or anything. She didn’t even move in with me. That was bad sign for her… she kept getting angry, wanting to move her stuff over to my place, and saying I mustn’t love her enough if I didn’t want to live with her. But there was… something holding me back… I don’t know how to explain it… but… it was intrusion? Intru… no! Intuition. It was intuition.” He laughs at himself. “Sorry, I get so used to speaking simply with the children that I forget how to use long words with adults sometimes.”

You smile, “It’s okay. I’ve only spent my free time with Mia for as long as I can remember. I don’t really know how to relate to adults either.”

“At least we know how to talk with each other then…” Taehyung chuckles, with a cloud of mist escaping his throat, “Anyway… Inna didn’t really understand me, and I guess I never understood her either, so we ended up breaking up. She blamed my immaturity for the whole thing.”

“But that wasn’t immature!” you feel anger bubbling up, “In fact, from the sounds of it, you behaved very maturely in that situation. If you can’t relate to each other, then the relationship can’t possibly last. It was good to end it as soon as you could.”

He nods his head, “I thought so too… but I am sorry that it ended so badly...”

“No, don’t be,” you adjust your grip around her shoulder, holding him a little more tightly, partly to keep yourself from slipping off his back, and partly to offer him some comfort under your touch.

As he turns the corner, and the school appears ahead of you, you feel a tug of remorse that the night is over, that you’ll have to leave Taehyung’s hold and return to being single. It was nice to remember what it was like to have someone to hold hands with, someone to be with, and the whole evening had almost convinced you to fall in love again, to allow yourself the leeway to care for someone else besides your daughter. It’s difficult to remember that Taehyung isn’t anything more than a self-proclaimed partner in crime, and that the ring around your finger is nothing more than a prop.

As Taehyung walks you up the school drive, he says, “Well… I’ve told you what happened to me and Inna… would it be too rude to ask what happened to Mia’s father?”

You fall silent as he reaches the edge of the car park, slipping off his back and onto the cold pavement.

He turns back with wide, worried eyes. “Sorry. I overstepped a line, didn’t I? I’ve had a bit of alcohol and… my tongue gets a little more lose when I do. Sorry. I’m sorry.”

“No, it’s okay,” you sooth with a gentle smile as you dig for your keys from your purse and head for your car, “It was a long time ago, so it’s not that painful anymore.” By your car, you stop, hand on the door. “He died a couple of months after Mia’s birth.”

“Oh.” Taehyung’s face falls at this, and he licks his lips, unsure how to respond.

“Like I said,” you continue, “It was a long time ago. And even though I do miss him… I’m not sad about it anymore. He gave me Mia, and she’s the best part of my life.”

Even though you should be leaving, it feels wrong to part like this, so rather than standing in the frost you say, “Would you like to get into the car for a bit? Just to get out of the cold?”

He nods, and so you end up with him sitting in the passenger seat, body twisted towards you as you continue talking about your husband, reliving old memories with a wistful smile twinging your lips.

“That must be hard for Mia,” Taehyung says eventually, and you nod sadly.

“Yeah, she doesn’t remember him well, but she’s recently started noticing the absence. You know, just the other day, she said she wished she had a dad to come and watch her in the play.” The thought makes the smile wobble off your face, replace by pain, as you remember her innocent questions.

“I’ll come to see her in the play,” Taehyung offers, and then his cheeks flush and he begins rambling, “Well… I mean… ah, maybe this is the alcohol still in my system, and I’m definitely overstepping a line here… but Mia’s a good kid… and…” His hands go up to run over his face, pushing at his closed eyelids. “Ahhhh… what am I saying?”

“Taehyung,” you say gently, and he peeks at you past his fingers, “Mia would be delighted if I told her you’ll watch her in the play.”

He drops his hands and offers a cautious smile.

The conversation seems finished, but still you don’t want Taehyung to leave, and he makes no movement to do so. Absently, you fiddle with your hands, and feel the cold of the ring still on your finger.

“Oh, right…” You pull it off carefully, and hold it out to Taehyung, “I believe this is yours.”

He puts out his hand, and as you press the ring into his fingers his warmth seeps below your skin.

“Oh, and the blazer as well,” you murmur, the stillness in the car seeming to call for a lower voice. You slip off Taehyung’s blazer, catching one last breath of his cologne, as he leans closer and you throw it around his shoulders for him.

Even though it’s time to part, you can’t let go of the collar of the blazer, holding him close. You feel that if you let him go, the whole night will slip from your fingers, like the mist of a dream. Forgetting what it’s like to be held, to be felt, to be connected, what it’s like to be in love, you’ll return to a single-minded focus on Mia, living in love, only for her, with no time to love a man and no time to love yourself.

In the subdued moonlight Taehyung looks all the more ethereal, eyes dark and glossy, lips shining wet as he licks them, and you allow yourself one act of self-love, allow yourself one split second of happiness, just to satiate your own curiosity for what might have been. In the hold of the night’s murmurings, you lean in, just as Taehyung does, and close your lips to his own, locking against him. Your eyes shut instinctively, and all that’s left is his warmth on you, warmth around you, as his hands pull you an extra bit closer, trying to manoeuvre you awkwardly, so he can get as close as possible with the gear box in the way. Your arms snake up around his neck, fingers tangling into his hair, and you melt away on this moment.

It’s all heat, all Taehyung, all you, all you’ve been wanting all evening.

At last, he slips out of your hold again, and you sit, short of breath, with him leaning, watching you from the other side of the car with a dopey smile on his lips.

“I should probably go now,” you remember, knowing it’s far too late, and Mia definitely needs to be in bed.

“Yeah,” he breathes. It takes him another second of staring at you, in awe, before he moves, opening the car door again, letting cold air to rush in and knock sense into both of you, drunk on each other’s touch.

“I’ll see you at the school play,” he says, and then jumps out, and with a wave and a boxy grin, he closed the door behind him, and heads across the car park, towards his own house.

You sit for a few seconds, holding your burning cheeks in your hands and trying to steady your heartbeat, knowing driving like this would be dangerous. You give yourself time to clear your head, before finally starting the engine.

♡♡♡

Mia’s still up when you arrive home, sitting in her pyjamas watching TV with the babysitter. The babysitter looks sheepish when you arrive. “I did try to get her to go to bed,” she explains, but you just hand her the rest of her money, and tell her it’s fine.

Your daughter spins around, and you can sense she’s hyper off sugar that the babysitter probably shouldn’t have fed her. “How was the date? How was the date?”

“Mouse... I told you...” you say, “It wasn’t a date!”

But even as you say this, memories rush back of all that happened this evening, and you realise there’s absolutely no fooling anyone. It was a date.

“You’re blushing! It was totally a date!”

You smile. “Alright, Mouse, maybe it was…”

As you shepherd her up the stairs you feel a vibration in your pocket, as your phone goes off. Reminding Mia to brush her teeth before she goes to bed, you watch her slump to the bathroom, complaining that she’s not ready to sleep. It takes a lot of coaxing, but you finally get her into her room with the lights switched off, and allow yourself to collapse into your own bed, still with a full face of make-up and your dress hugging your body.

You check your phone, and smile to see a message from Taehyung:

“Thanks for tonight. It was great. You did great. You were great…. Am I rambling? Haha! I’ll see you later anyways. Xoxo”

You smile involuntarily, roll over in bed, curling up in the duvet. You type your reply, “I’ll look forward to it xoxo”. This time the ‘x’s and ‘o’s are completely on purpose.

♡ END ♡

Author’s note: I’m sorry this is late! It wasn’t meant to be so long, but my brain got carried away, and it ended up taking longer than expected to write! I hope the wait was worth it!

#armiesnet #sfwbangtan #bts scenarios #taehyung scenarios #bts imagines #taehyung imagine #bts fluff #taehyung fluff #bts #bangtan boys #bangtan sonyeondan #bangtan scenarios #bangtan imagines #bangtan fluff #bts v #kim taehyung #taehyung #bts x reader #bts x you #taehyung x reader #taehyung x you #bts fanfic #bts fanfiction #bts fic #taehyung fanfic #taehyung fic #bts reactions #bts chats #bts christmas #tae

[astrotranslations]

[Drunk-dols ①] ASTRO's Moonbin "Cha Eunwoo Is A Model Student? He Hides His 'Foolish Sides'"

This is an official question. What’s your drinking capacity? MJ: The most I’ve drank is a bottle and half of soju. I control myself when I drink. There hasn’t been an instance where I’ve no recollection of what happened and I’m the sort to get sleepy when I’m drunk so I go to bed. I don’t know what my drinking habits are. JinJin: I’m also one to control myself when I drink. I start to reject alcohol once I drink about a bottle’s worth of soju. I’ll continue to drink if adults offer me. I think the most I’ve drank is about 8-9 200cc glasses of beer. Eunwoo: To be honest, I’m not one of those who likes alcohol. I think I’ve drunk somaek* with 2 bottles of soju. I’m the sort to endure it till the end and then pass out afterwards, I don’t get drunk easily. My drinking habit is that I get chattier. Losing my memory has never happened to me either. Moonbin: My drinking capacity according to somaek* standards is around 2 and a half bottles of soju. My parents also drink well so I think that had some influence. When I get drunk, I grow more talkative, I become excited and I have a lot more aegyo. I usually don’t have tons of it. I sometimes behave like that around the people I like but it happens more often whenever I get tipsy.

Do you often go out for a drink between the members? JinJin: If there’s something we’re having a hard time with or something we’re brooding over then I’ll mention having a drink and we’ll make time for it. There are times where the four of us from the hyung line and our manager hyung would have a round of drinks together. Moonbin: But we’re all preoccupied so we don’t have the time to talk. We’re busy passing out after coming back from finishing a schedule.

The other members are underaged so they couldn’t come to the interview. What did they say? MJ: They told us, "Hyungs, work hard. Don’t drink too much."

What do they do when the older members drink? Moonbin: They just sit there. They clink glasses filled with cola or juice.

Sanha seems to have grown a lot. JinJin: He keeps growing so it’s a concern. He’s currently 184cm but we predict he’ll reach 187cm. I hope he’ll stop growing. As the shortest one, it’s starting to hurt my neck looking at the tallest member. Sanha has two older brothers and they’re both 183cm. His parents are tall too. My dad’s 180cm but why am I like this?

Who came up with 'refreshing-dols'? MJ: The fans mentioned how we were refreshing and since then, we became 'refreshing-dols'. It’s a nickname that really complemented our team who’s bright and innocent. Moonbin: Our songs are good so I think we fit the 'refreshing-dols' image well too.

I feel like you would all have pride in your visuals. Moonbin: They tell me I’m handsome but to be honest, I’m not quite sure. Everyday when I look into the mirror, there are a lot of times where my faces is bloated. My opinions change according to the extent of the bloating. There are a lot instances where I think I don’t look all that great. MJ: I joke around saying that of course I’m handsome, of course I’m the best, but there hasn’t been once where I say that I’m good looking and actually meant it. JinJin: I think of myself as good looking when I look into the mirror. In my opinion, the standard of 'good looks' is charms. I think my eye smile is my most charming facial feature.

How did you feel when you heard you’d be doing 'Drunk-dols'? Moonbin: I was flustered when I heard that the 'refreshing-dols' are suddenly doing a drunken interview but it’s a first for us so it felt novel. It’s nice since we’re able to comfortably talk as we eat.

You recently wrapped up promotions. If you had to grade it? Eunwoo: The number’s greater as compared to our previous promotions although there are regretful aspects. But looking back, it’s an album I’m thankful for and I think it’s an album that laid our foundation once more and created footing for us. If I had to put a number to it then I’d give it 73 points. Moonbin: I want to give it 50 points. There are a lot of things we’ve fulfilled through this album and our skills have improved, be it as a team or individually. But still, you have to be harsh with yourself so that’s why the 50. MJ: More than anything else, it’s an album where I’m grateful for our fans. Us being able to hold a solo concert was made possible because we had our fans. I’d grade our fans 100 points and the grade I’ll give myself id 65 points. There are still a lot of things for me to learn and many paths for me to walk on. Eunwoo: Was I too generous with my grading? JinJin: There are a lot of things we achieved through this album. We held our last broadcast on 'Music Core' and it was the first time the audience section was completely filled out. We were also nominated for no. 1. It’s an album which I’m extremely satisfied with so I’d like to give it 90 points.

You had sales of 60, 000 copies for your 4th mini album. JinJin: I was honestly shocked. I was really grateful. It made me realise that the number of fans we had increased a lot as compared to when we started off. It was thanks to this that we became no. 1 nominees. So I became greedy. I really want to grab the no. 1 spot the next time.

You were contenders for no. 1 alongside Twice. Moonbin: That’s why I thought it was amazing how we were nominated. I got greedy when we were waiting for the results on stage.

In which aspects do you think you’ve grown as compared to your debut days? Moonbin: Listening to our 1st album then our 4th as we moved around, our vocal colour has changed a lot and our singing skills have improved. I think our sound changed when we tried going down a positive route.

How long have you been trainees? JinJin: 3-4 years for Eunwoo and myself, 4 years for MJ. Moonbin has been one for 8 years. He’s an ancestor.

Why was Moonbin’s trainee period long? Moonbin: I started off as a child actor because of my parents’ suggestion and then became interested in this field of work. I did have my worries halfway whether or not this path was right for me. But I stood on stage once and there was this electrifying feeling. So I was determined to become an idol. If someone asked me why I’m doing what I do then I’ll tell them, "Being on stage is gratifying." And it’s fun communicating with fans. It’s not about showing off what I do well and feeling good about it, I like seeing people enjoy themselves when I sing my songs for them and I think that’s why I became an idol.

What’s your personality like? Moonbin: I’m straightforward and I carry myself drawing a clear line between what I like and dislike. I have my timid side like an A blood type would but I’m your typical B blood type.

Isn’t the leader position hard for you, JinJin? JinJin: It’ll be a lie to say there’s nothing difficult about it. The burden is pretty big. I’m a leader who leads his team and I have to know everything about my members. Only then will I be able to control the team. I put in effort so I can hear them tell me a trivial 'You’ve worked hard'. I think I’m able to endure through it all the more because the members, the staff and even the fans recognise that it’s very tough on me.

Who makes it the hardest for you amongst the members? JinJin: They all have it out for me (laughs). Sanha’s the youngest one so he plays a lot of pranks. We’re all people so when we’re fooled around with, there’ll be at least once where we’d lose our temper.

Who does the leader confide in regarding his concerns? JinJin: I talk a lot to the three people gathered here today. Eunwoo and Moonbin are younger than me but they’re adult-like. MJ is older than me. I’m the sort to really rely on the people around me. Sometimes I lean on the people around me too much that I’ve been hurt but it isn’t easy fixing the fact that I like people.

They say that Eunwoo 'hardcarries' ASTRO all alone. Eunwoo: I don’t think that way but it’s a lie to say that it isn’t difficult on me. On the surface, Cha Eunwoo is more well known if you mention ASTRO but under that, there are more things I learn from the members. I often learn dancing and singing. What I can do is doing my best in getting our team name out there. If I’m having it rough then I’ll confide in Moonbin. We share a room so we talk to each other a lot.

What is it that you’re having the most trouble with now? Eunwoo: Realising that I can’t accomplish something with my own strength. It’s hard when no matter how much I endeavour and no matter how much I try to find a solution, there’s nothing I can do.

For example? Eunwoo: I was individually shooting for a drama, going on variety shows and filming for CFs when we were preparing for our concert. Even if I pulled an all nighter, it was difficult preparing for the concert to a T. Time was closing in on me and I was growing more anxious but my self-confidence was dropping and I felt apologetic towards the other members so I was walking on eggshells alone. No one was saying anything about me but I was feeling like that on my own. It became a cycle for me and it built up inside so I was filled with resentment.

Do you talk about this kind of concern to your members? Eunwoo: Everyone’s sensitive when they’re busy so I’m reluctant. I’m not the only one going through a hard time. If we happen to gather to have drink then I’ll let it out.

Don’t the other members get jealous when they hear things like 'ASTRO=Cha Eunwoo'? JinJin: Rather than jealousy, our desire to do well is the same. I feel bad watching from the sidelines Eunwoo suffering. He promotes ASTRO a lot even when he goes for an individual schedule. He’s younger than me but there’s a lot to learn from him.

Is there anything you feel like you’re better at than Eunwoo? JinJin: I’ve a good looking face (laughs). I’m kidding. Personally, I want to be acknowledged for my rap. I have to accomplish things bit by bit but I keep getting greedy. Eunwoo: I think JinJin hyung would be good at variety. I’m not the funny kind. I want for ASTRO to win no. 1, to be stable after gaining popularity and to hear the public say we’re idols who’re big fun.

Eunwoo has an image of a model student. Do you want to break it? Eunwoo: Yes. I hope the public views me for who I am. It’ll look unnatural if I take it over the top. But I’m not a total model student. The members know. I studied hard when I was younger but I’m not well behaved when we’re together.

In the members’ opinions, do you agree with what Eunwoo said? Moonbin: Eunwoo’s really foolish. He’s perfect but there’s also something about him leaving you feeling like, "Huh?". He’ll make you form this preconception that he seems like someone who’s virtuous but when you see that other side of him, you’ll feel him human.

Has there been an instance where you’ve fought amongst each other? Moonbin: We’ve never thrown punches. Though sometimes when we’re getting the dance details down, we’ll be like, "This angle is right. That angle is right. Try lifting up your hand."

Your group’s an even number so it must be hard mediating opinions. Moonbin: We sort it out one way or another. The one who loses makes it obvious he’s sulky about it. Rocky and I are in charge of dance so it’s often that we’d be disappointed in the other and quibble with each other when it comes to dance. Every time that happens, JinJin hyung would ask what’s the problem and play the mediator. We’d talk it out outside and walk in with our arms over the other’s shoulder.

Is there a member you feel the most sour towards? Moonbin: I don’t bear a grudge towards anyone. We settle it right away.

*somaek is the short form for ‘soju + maekju (beer)’.

Source: http://news.joins.com/article/21844537

Translations by @99pmh Take out with full credits

#MJ #Myungjun #JinJin #Jinwoo #Eunwoo #Dongmin #Moonbin #ASTRO