#it's only 10 episodes so far so you can watch it in an afternoon!

[winryrockbellwannabe]

hey, first off all just wanna say your blog is so cool i love seeing you on my dash!

i was just wondering if you had any tips for first year students and how to manage time? i think that’s the aspect i have been struggling with the most is time management and getting enough sleep rn.

omg tysm!!! 💜💜💜 so glad you like my posts!! and hope your enjoying your 1st year so far <3

So, how to manage your time:

tbh I haven't understood it that well myself. Personally im a little time blind, so i coordinate my schedule based on tasks i have to do, instead of time.

So instead of: study physics for an hour, it could be something like: understand The Schrödinger equation or study 40 pages.

My only time blocks are: morning, afternoon (before snack time, before dinner) and before going to bed. Which i particularly like since it's more flexible, and if i didn't manage to accomplish everything, i can just move it a bit, instead of ruining the whole thing.

My planner usually looks like this: (it's a bit light, since i had classes all day both monday and today, but you get the idea)

But if you like to study in time blocks, my tip is to give them space to be flexible. So if you delay smth it doesn't ruin your entire schedule, and you won't be so stressed about the time as well.

For example, you think you'll take 1h to do this assignment? Save 1h30 for it, if you end up actually needing this extra time, then you're still in time. If you only needed 1h, you can take a break and move to your next task earlier than planned.

Alarms are a student's best friend for time tracking. And a bonus advantage is that it also forces me not to be on my phone, since i set the alarm in there, and it's a visual reminder that i should be working.

Another important thing to do is to ✨ prioritize✨ your tasks!! Your final exam is way more important than a report that's only 10% your grade. Sure, if you can do both it's perfect, but don't waste too much time perfecting smth that's not that important.

Oh, and if you feel like the way your professor explains isn't doing it for you, just forget about that class! It's a waste of time to be 2 hours in a classroom, not even understanding what the professor is saying and stressing about it. Just find some good notes, and study them in the library during that time instead.

Also, for the not enough sleep problem. I feel you. That was me in the second semester of 1st year. I would lose track of time, sometimes just procrastinating, and forget to sleep. My solution for that is ✨alarms✨. I usually wake up at 7:30, so everyday i have an alarm set for 23:00 to remind myself to go to sleep, and another for 24:00, just in case i ignored the first one lol. Really improved my sleep schedules.

(And a little extra (tho i intend to do a bigger post about this soon)

1st year tips in general: Find ways to be interested in your classes, so it's easier to study. Watch documentaries about it, discuss stuff with ppl that love that subject. Even if you are learning how to solve integrals so you can help your crush - totally not talking from experience. If it get's you motivated, then that's all that matters. DONT BE AFRAID TO ASK QUESTIONS!!! I promise your professors aren't judging you, and if your classmates are, well, they won't be judging anymore when you ace that test. And force yourself to take breaks. I would put on my t.do list to watch an episode of a series daily, bc i would be so stressed i would forget to do that. And taking breaks it's super important.)

(sorry for the huge post, I really hope at least one tip in here will be useful for you. Thank you for the ask, and best of luck for this uni year!!! Feel free to ask anymore questions💜)

[purplesurveys]

1749

How old were you 10 years ago? I was 15.

The last time you went out to eat, where did you go? I already talked about it in detail in a previous survey but my workmates and I went to a wine bar for Trina's despedida. We went to a nearby bar after for more filling bar chow cos all they had in the first place were light finger food meant to be paired with wine.

What did you order? For the wine bar, we got a few bottles of wine, clams, a cheese plate, and fries; for the bar, we had chips, sisig, and mac and cheese balls.

Think of the last film you watched. Who was your favourite character? I can't remember the last movie I saw because I rarely watch any anymore; but the last anything I watched was Prison Playbook. I'm only one episode in, but my favorite has been the sweet dude who was part of the same inmate batch as the main character. Least suspicious character so far, and it helps to know that his reason for getting incarcerated was merely because he didn't pay back the loan for his mom's surgery.

Do you use Twitter? How about Tumblr? I do use both, although I'm much more active on Twitter because all I do here is take surveys on weekends and the occasional weeknight.

What colour are the walls of the room you’re in? They're white.

What would you like to say to the last person that hurt you? I have not felt hurt by my loved ones for a very long time now. That feels pretty great to realize!

When was the last time you felt disappointed? Who/what cheered you up? I was soooo bummed last Friday – I had booked a visit to a museum, but I didn't expect the traffic to be absolutely awful (it was mid-afternoon, when roads would be relatively more relaxed) that I got to my destination 40 minutes after my reserved slot. It was also the last timeslot for the day, so it wasn't like I could just join the next batch of visitors.

I figured it'd be stupid of me to even show up lol, so I just went to the food hall next door, which also ended up sucking because there was no cell signal inside; I couldn't even use my data. At least I got a delicious spicy tuna poke from my visit.

Do you have a friend whose name starts with ‘L’? Describe him/her. There's Lea and Leigh. Lea is SUPER friendly, I love love love having conversations with her so it's a shame we see each other so rarely; I also see her as headstrong, ambitious, and intelligent. Leigh is creative, gentle, and a really talented singer.

When you opened your eyes this morning, what were your first thoughts? Holy shit I suck at waking up, I must have missed Jungkook's set at the Global Citizen Festival and I hate myself. Then I checked my Twitter (it was 7 AM by that point; they advertised the set as starting at 4 AM, Manila time) and apparently he was still in the middle of doing Seven LOL. Man did his set three hours late so I got to still hang out with him for a few minutes AND see the teaser for 3D!!!

Have you received any compliments today? Nah.

Describe one of your favourite items of clothing. Where did you get it? My brown sleeveless maxi dress - just Shopee, haha.

Name one of your favourite foods that starts with the letter A. Arancini.

Is there anyone from your past that you sometimes miss? Tell me about them. Only people I can think are Sofie and my grandpa. Sofie was my best friend in high school and we were each other's biggest confidantes. She was born overseas but since her parents were incapable of raising her and were separated, she was sent back here from childhood, and that's how she ended up in my school by around Grade 7. She had hair as thick as mine, loved makeup, and got me into Audrey Hepburn. We grew apart in college and saw each other a grand time of Once before she migrated to the UK this time last year. Our relationship post-drifting-apart has been wholesome and there's been absolutely no grudge or bad blood or whatever. I was raised around my grandpa routinely telling me random trivia and general knowledge, and I think I got my love from learning from him. He is a gifted writer and he apparently used to write my grandmother poems when they were younger, and is into history. If there is one thing he can't handle well, it's alcohol, and I have my fair share of trauma from what I've seen of him when he has had too much to drink. Nevertheless I think of him fondly, especially for the person he was without his brandy. He died in 2015 from a sudden heart attack when he was visiting family from our province.

How long have you known the last person you text messaged? Since 2020.

Do you know what the person you miss is doing at this moment? Probably on his lunch break.

Has anyone told you that they love you today? Yes.

In the last week, what’s the kindest thing that someone has done for you? My sister making me instant noodles when I asked her.

Is there a song that makes you cry every time you hear it? We Are Bulletproof: The Eternal has been a little rougher to listen to these days. So has Love Letters.

If someone read your mind right now, what would they hear? They would hear remnants of Le Sserafim's Fire In the Belly because I can't stop thinking about it lmao.

Do you have any favourite jewellery that you wear every day? Yes, my purple heart charm necklace that Reena gave me.

What colour are the eyes of the last male you talked to? Dark brown.

Are you wearing anything orange or red? Yes.

Who was the last person you said “hello” to? Idk, I think my sister.

I like to think there is always something to smile about…so, tell me, what’s your reason to smile right now? News about my potential resignation has apparently spread at work so I'm just happy that I'm not bearing it on my own anymore. They know I have plans to leave and they know I'm not too thrilled with my promotion, so at least I don't have to worry about violent reactions when the timing is finally right to step back and step out.

Also, Jungkook new single on Friday.

[forensicated]

Smiffina Episodes: Gun Runner Part 4 -Spray And Pray (4/5)

Max and Terry are in place to watch the workshop where Smithy will be recommissioning the guns as part of his undercover job. However they have to set up the cameras first. One appears to be faulty but they don't have much time as Cutler and Smithy are on the way back.

Just in time the expert manages to make the sound and vision clear and he and Max. It's very tight and they can't drive away without being seen, so Max has to cover and pretend to be a security camera salesman. "We're in the area today offering top of the range security monitoring." Mwahaha. He gets away with it and leaves.

Neil and Heaton update/remind us uniform on what Smithy has found out so far. Cutler has gotten his hands on pistols and Mach 10's and wants to sell them to the street gangs. As long as he gets his money he doesn't care whose hands they fall into.

Wallace arrives with Tommy Rose, an enforcer for the SE1 Gang, to the workshop.Rose is returning a gun he leased - £200 to rent it. £500 if it's been fired. Wallace suggests he's heard that "Jay" got shot. Rose threatens Wallace who seems intimidated. Smithy has to tell Wallace to stop playing with the gun and takes it to look it over. On inspection, Smithy agrees that it's been fired. Rose tries to make out it hasn't and Smithy squares up to him as Cutler arrives and tells them to calm down. Faced with Smithy and Cutler, Rose stumps up the full £500 and then takes Cutler for a private chat about meeting up with a Bob Gatting, the SE1 Boss. Smithy counts the money and hands it to Wallace, asking him to try find out when the guns might be arriving. With Wallace putting the money in the safe, Smithy shows the gun Rose brought back to the CCTV. Terry and Max mutter about it having to come in for forensics as they watch.

Neil asks Kezia to trawl MET records for gun crimes in the last 24 hours and to get search CRIMINT for anyone called Jay or similar who could have dealings with the SE1 gang. Cutler is splitting the risk to himself, using the SE1's funds and muscle in the deal.

Stevie attends the workshop to meet up with Smithy and to get the gun. She kisses his cheek in greeting but he tells her no one is around. Smithy says she can have the gun but they have to get it back sharpish. The door starts rattling Stevie grabs Smithy and kisses him as cover when Wallace appears. Wallace makes a cheeky search of Stevie and she complies to show she has nothing to hide. Stevie is cheeky and forward, teasing Wallace on his soft touch. Smithy joins in to help the banter distract him and stop him checking her bag (seriously - you'd think he'd check the bag more than Stevie!) and discovering the gun and envelope the cash arrived in from Rose. He winds him up about not having a girlfriend. "See you later, darlin'." she calls back as she leaves. "And you, Smithy."

Callum tells Neil that they've found a possible scene of the shooting with blood, 2 case shells, a bullet and drag and tyre marks at a building site on Barton St's patch. A neighbour reported hearing two bangs at 2.15am too but thought it was kids and firework.

Cutler arrives and pays Smithy for his time and tells him to take the afternoon off. Smithy mentions taking Stevie away that weekend as a way of trying to find more information out about deliveries and Cutler tells him he can't as they're in the middle of a deal. Smithy says he's only doing bits and pieces at the moment and it's not worth waiting round - unless the shooters are arriving that weekend. Cutler admits he's not sure. Smithy uses that to question him about who is really running the show. He admits that they're using SE1 as insurance. Cutler threatens Smithy's life if he 'has to terminate his employment' and tells him he'll give him a time and place when he's ready and that the guns are in London and there's a meeting that night about it.

There's no one in London hospitals with a bullet wound that fits and noone has been linked to be 'Jay' through the police intelligence at the moment. Eventually the blood comes back to a Sean Seaton. They tell his wife they're searching for him, she gives them the numbers of likely friends who might know where he is. The phone is still moving - or someone else has his phone. Jo rings it when it stops and they track it to the back of a skip lorry. Jo has a look inside and teases Roger over a plunger... and then finds Seaton's body.

Stevie tells Smithy that Max is pressing to find out the time of the delivery. He tells her he's been trying but Cutler won't talk. The gun isn't back from forensics yet. Smithy asks her to arrange a meeting with Max. At the Workshop, Cutler's supplier "Demitri" turns up. He's ready to do the deal whenever they are. Max tells Smithy this when they meet and that the gun still isn't back as it's been linked to a likely murder and they'll just have to hope it's not asked for. Smithy is NOT happy - understandably!

Smithy meets up with Cutler, Bob Gatting and Tommy Rose at The Boat Inn. Gatting asks Smithy what brought him into being an armourer. "I used to be in the army." Cutler reassures him Smithy is trustworthy and explains he got him out without being caught by the police the other week (at the football game). They toast to the job.

Now Seaton's body has been found, forensics are holding the gun as key evidence in a murder trial. Poor Smithy! The driver picked the skip up from the building site and had no idea about the body. There's a mobile message from a man who calls himself Jay. It says 'they need to sit down and sort things'. Jay is George Jacobs and Sean took the wrap for him fencing goods for the SE1 crew. He's shocked Seaton has died but isn't surprised. He claims Sean had a habit of finding trouble and was in a state when he last saw him 2 days ago because 'someone was squeezing him for money'. He admits leaving a message that morning and says he hasn't seen Julie - Sean's wife - for months. He agrees to come down to the station but goes to phone his lawyer first. As he does, Kezia tells Neil that Sean's wife said she didn't know anyone called Jay.

Wallace helps Smithy cleaning out gun barrels. As they chat, Smithy tells Wallace he was in the army for 5 years and did a couple of tours in Northern Ireland after being in Sunday Cadets as a kid. Wallace says he wanted to join the army and was in the cadets too. He admits Cutler is his uncle and he offered him more money to work for him than the army would pay. Cutler appears and sends Wallace off to clean his windscreen again so he can talk about the guns with Smithy. They're meeting the next day and Demitri will be bringing a sample of the mach 10's so Smithy is needed to check it before they pay. Cutler doesn't know when so sends Smithy home to rest.

Forensics have found fingerprints inside the gun and matched them to George Jacobs. However if they reveal this to Jacob's solicitor then they'll know they have the gun and put Smithy at risk. They also can't give it back to Smithy incase Cutler destroys it. Kezia has found pictures on Sean's phone of his wife with Jacobs. Jacob's alibi is that he was at a club at the time of the murder but the keyholder of the club is proving impossible to get hold of. Neil suggests he brings up the potential affair to show his lie and use that to keep and question him instead. Jacob's insists he isn't having an affair with Sean's wife and that he'll be on the CCTV of the club when the murder was supposed to have happened. He spots Julie when he's being returned to his cell and they lock eyes but neither say a word.

Smithy worries if word gets out Jacob's has been arrested for murder, Cutler will want the gun destroyed. Stevie suggests subbing it for a different gun but Smithy says it won't work because it's too distinctive and besides, Max promised him he was getting it sorted. He leaves to meet Cutler and Gatting with a warning to tell Max to get it sorted or he is stuffed.

Heaton says he's going to pull Smithy out and keep the gun for the murder case. Max worries that they're so close to seizing a huge amount of arms and suggests returning the gun but reclaiming it in a stop and search if Smithy can plant the gun. Gina thinks it's risky and worries for Smithy but says Callum can manage it. If it works they'll keep Smithy in but if not they'll have to pull Smithy out.

Smithy's concerns come home to roost as Cutler finds out that Jay has been arrested. He and Bob want the gun to disappear. Smithy goes to the loo and tells Max they have minutes to get the gun in place or it's all over. Max tells him Stevie is already at the workshop and is putting the gun back. All he has to do is plant it with Wallace and disappear whilst Callum and Roger pull him over. Stevie struggles opening the safe. A few minutes later, Smithy opens it with Wallace right behind him, praying the entire time that it's in there.

Smithy causes a delay by dropping a box of bullets and asking Wallace to pick them up and box 50 for him to deliver. The camera pans to reveal Stevie crouched behind some boxes. Smithy goes outside and hides the gun in the glovebox of Wallace's car and then smashes the brake light. Smithy goes to fake a delivery whilst Callum and Roger stop Wallace and question him about the broken brake light. They do an index check and Roger asks him if he has any documents. Wallace doesn't know and Roger goes to look - 'finding' the gun in the glovebox. He tries to run away but Callum rugby tackles him and brings him down, arresting him.

Julie's reaction to finding out her husband has died is not very believable. It seems he left the club at 1.15am and was dead within the next hour. Now Kieran Wallace has been arrested, the gun is brought into the interview where he's told his fingerprints are on it. Neil says he has enough to charge him but the solicitor produces the CCTV they'd been struggling to obtain showing Jay at the club as he'd said. They check the neighbour again to see if she is really sure that the time was 2.15am. They haven't questioned Julie about lying about knowing Jay because 'she was too upset about Sean'. She admits she and Jay were having an affair and claims things were over with her husband. Her husband however wouldn't accept it. Neil tells her that there are Jay's fingerprints on the gun and she stammers that it's her fault. Kezia tells her that Sean mistreating her and making her fall in love with another man doesn't make his death her fault. She misses the fact that it DOES make it her fault if she's the one who shot him though! And yep. She is. She shot him in self defence when he tried to kill her. Jay came and put the body int he skip before taking her home again. Neil arrests her for the murder as she admits that she took the gun with the idea of using it.

Max and Terry watch Smithy and Cutler rowing about Wallace getting arrested on the CCTV. Smithy tells him he doesn't know why he was arrested - he just came out of the pub to see him with police. "You left the gun with Wallace? That muppet?!*" He growls at Smithy. He then tells him has to square the gun getting found with Gatting because Jay is part of the SE1 crew. Smithy scoffs and says he doesn't, after all he's the one putting it on the line as Cutler's suppliers could be 'rip and run merchants' who dump him in a ditch somewhere. Cutler pulls a gun on Smithy and warns him to toe the line, not question him and that he warned him already people do not walk away from him - especially not when involved in something as dangerous as this. "So what? You're going to shoot me. So? Shoot me." He growls back. THIS FUCKING MAN! I wish they'd stop doing that 😂 Cutler eventually lowers the gun and walks off. Smithy shouts that he's sick of getting half the story and turns and walks out, telling him to ring him when he's ready to deal properly.

Max finally releases a breath and tells Terry to arrange a meeting with Smithy because they're too close for it to explode now. Smithy arrives to meet Stevie and Max soon after and he admits he doesn't know if he can hack it any longer because he can feel his entire life running down the back of his neck when he's with Cutler. Stevie and Max offer him the chance to walk away if it's become too much. Max reassures him that he's playing a blinder and that they're a team. He reminds him that he's doing it for the Carly Samuel's of the world and tells him that he - Max - is doing it because in CO19 one of his colleagues was murdered by a mach10 held by a kid. Smithy assures them both he's still in - whatever it takes. He pulls his hood up, gets out the car and walks off.

*This is a strong area where they were let down by having lots of different writers on multipart stories, This episodes Wallace is quite likeable, sympathetic and behaves like a teenage boy who loves his mum (he was going to be heading to his mums birthday party after the gun drop off) lead astray from the path of good - the army - by his big bad uncle who treats him like a loser. He's repeatedly (sometimes the same task several times in the same day) made to do menial tasks like washing his car windscreen just to get rid of him so the real men can talk. He's easily intimidated - like he was by Rose earlier and easily embarrassed - Smithy saying to Stevie that the closest Kieran'd gotten to sex was having his pocket picked when he was searching her to distract him and make him want to get Stevie away quicker so he didn't check her handbag. He's nothing like this big feared gangster with a bad history that he was made out to be in the first set up!

[liopleurodean]

The Road So Far: Season 9

It took a while, but we made it! The timing was rough, but season 9 is officially over. If you haven't already, check out my other commentaries with the "ashla chick flick moments" tag.

Season 9 was a ROLLERCOASTER. Starting with Sam almost dying, then Cas leaving, the whole Gadreel fiasco (not even CONSIDERING Kevin), Charlie and Garth, the Mark of Cain, Metatron, and ending with Dean's death. From start to finish, the whole season is action-packed and still ends on a cliffhanger.

There are so many fantastic episodes this season. 9x04 Slumber Party, 9x05 Dog Dean Afternoon, 9x07 Bad Boys, 9x08 Rock and a Hard Place, 9x12 Sharp Teeth, and definitely 9x23 Do You Believe in Miracles? Some honorable mentions: 9x15 #thinman (I personally think the Ghostfacers are great. Sue me) 9x20 Bloodlines (a solid episode, but not the best of the group. I'd love to see a spin-off though) 9x21 King of the Damned (Dean vs. Abaddon was awesome, if a bit scary. Crowley was also great in this episode) and, of course, 9x11 Firstborn (do I really need to explain this one? The tension, Crowley and Dean, the entire thing is cinema). Overall, I would say my favorite is Dog Dean Afternoon. Apparently there's a lot of discourse about this one, but I think it's a fun, light-hearted Monster of the Week with lower stakes to provide some relief from all of the crazy going on.

I think the boys had more equal storytime this season. Sam + Gadreel filled the first half, while the Mark of Cain took the second half. They also seemed less polarized (which sounds crazy, I know, but hold on). Obviously Sam & Dean argued the whole season about Gadreel. However, unlike previous arguments, I could actually see both sides. Sam wasn't wrong here, but Dean wasn't either. Dean's life has been dedicated to keeping Sam safe, but at what point does it become about Dean's mental health instead of Sam's well-being? And later, the Mark is clouding Dean's mind. Sam can see it, but Dean is under its influence and refuses to listen. They've started to go back to their season 1 selves, where Dean is "shoot first ask questions later" and Sam has to reign him in. Even people who don't interact with the Winchesters very often can see it.

The side plots this season were interesting. It felt like they were trying to get a lot of the side characters out of the way. Garth got out, Kevin died, and Charlie left, but I guess Jody is still around and they met Donna, so they're not completely isolated.

If I were to rank the seasons, I think this would go somewhere in the middle. The over-arching plot was good, the one-off episodes were good, but it didn't really strike me the way some of the others did. It was an emotional season, sure, but it wasn't like earlier seasons.

The rollercoaster is only gonna get worse. Obviously Dean is a demon now, so that has to be resolved. Season 10 presumably still follows the Mark of Cain and Metatron, but I can only imagine what crazy things will happen in between.

Posting is gonna slow down (season 10 will probably a little faster than 9, but it won't be the same as the summer). I have school and work and *shudders* socializing, so I won't have as much time to watch. Miraculously, I still have Netflix, so we'll see how far that gets me. I'll see you soon with season 10. Carry On!

[in-fair-verona-we-set-our-scene]

Anyway because I think it needs more attention and I just binged it, if you are into cartoons I would strongly suggest watching Centaurworld. Reasons why:

- The music is fantastic - the animation is great as well - the plot is a warhorse from a PG castlevania gets isekai’d into a centaur-themed adventure time - and when I say centaur-themed, I mean everything is centaur-themed and it’s kinda great - also the protag is called Horse. Just Horse - her goal is to return to her world because she misses her rider, called Rider - despite the short time Horse and Rider have on screen together, I was invested I really wanted them to reunite and their bond is shown throughout the story - seriously both Horse and Rider adore each other despite Horse not being able to talk in her original world - she is joined by a kleptomaniac with a hammer-space in her stomach, a giraffetaur that looks like the Windows start-up sound is the only thing in his brain, a tsundere bird-man that bigoted against horses, a fabulous zebrataur in love with his own reflection, and a motherly overprotective llamataur who can kickass when pressed and has PTSD - I’m also going to include Waterbaby because I love her - all the weird cartoony stuff is happening in-universe and our protagonist reacts accordingly - GOD THE ANIMATION - GOD THE SONGS - 🎶You’re okay, you’re alright🎶 - the fight animations when Rider is on screen is glorious - the VAs are some real talents and it shows both in the singing and the acting - we will have a song about talking farts, and then a tender reprise of a meaningful song sung to a traumatized war orphan, and then an epic ballad about being terrified of changing so much that the one you love won’t recognize you even after reuniting - seriously the tonal whiplash is intense, but it somehow works? - a lot of subversions of traditional fantasy plot beats? It’s not too obvious, but stuff like the protagonist needing to “prove themself” even when the mystical person holding the key to their goal is clearly in the wrong is given a good middle finger - Wammawink I love you so much - actually I at least like almost all the characters and none of them were really dislikable to me, at least by the end - lots of nightmare fuel wrapped up in a rainbow cotton-candy coating - suicide whale - 🎶I am Comfortable Doug🎶 - the NOWHERE KING god he’s so cool and creepy and his song - lots of reprises that make me feel things - shut up I’m not crying YOU’RE CRYING - 🎶We are all just fragile things🎶 - whatever the fuck the mysterious woman and the Nowhere King have

[theminecraftbee]

oh oh oh oh i have a question thats kinda adjacent to the current topic: do u know which hermits stream on the server and what their vibes are? i only got into hc right at the end of s8 so im curious what im missing from a livestream standpoint. (i had far too much fun watching foolish dsmp lose his mind over that giant statue and i wanna see if i can get that from the hermits ngl)

hermit livestreams are more common from certain hermits than others! before we continue, know that while livestreams are typically considered "places you might get spoiled", hermits tend to try to be polite and not give away pranks or big projects on stream before the people they apply to put them in a video. how well this goes... depends. but generally, don't expect brand new things live that often. with that said...

my guy, joe hills, is by FAR the most frequent streamer on the server; it's typically his nightly show. it's really interesting to watch him stream because its also how he films his episodes, so you end up getting a look at somewhat behind-the-scenes stuff. if you're awake/able at 10 PM est most days, then there will be a joe hills stream that takes place on the hermitcraft server!

others who are less deeply consistent than him, but who stream hermitcraft fairly regularly: xisuma streams on the server fairly regularly from what i can tell; i think he has a specific day during the week he normally schedules his hermitcraft streams for. he's normally morning in US time. cubfan streams pretty regularly from the server; he tends to be mid-afternoon. he tends to stream grinding a lot. for example, when he had to mine all that raw iron last season, he streamed a lot of the caving he did for that. jevin streams in the evening, and tends to stream hermitcraft. i don't watch enough jevin to tell you what his streams are like, though. pearl streams pretty regularly, normally in the morning us time. sometimes those streams are from the hermitcraft server. finally, impulse streams three times a week at 1 PM est. normally, at least one of those was hermitcraft. presumably, that schedule will continue in season 9!

as for the other hermits: bdubs has been streaming occasionally, i know hypno streams but i haven't spotted it enough to know if he's on a schedule or not, i know gem streams and that it's been hermitcraft from time to time (i watched her build trees once it was relaxing). scar streams and tries to do it as much as possible, but his health issues mean that they're pretty rare. they're fun streams, though, when they happen. doc has said he wants to stream more again, ren has been streaming more lately thanks to that hardcore achievement hunt he's been doing and maybe that will continue into hermitcraft? cleo streams hermitcraft from time to time, although she streams variety more often in my experience. tango streams occasionally on hermitcraft, and may stream on hermitcraft more when he has things to stream for decked out 2.0. iskall streams very regularly. in the past a large number of his streams have been vault hunters, but i think he streams hermitcraft sometimes as well!

and those are the ones i've spotted/know off the top of my head!

as for a few more scheduled hermitcraft things: on mondays, normally around noon est, there's a stream held called hhh, aka hermits helping hermits! normally, the gang includes hypno, joe, cleo, and xisuma, plus a group of other people who rotate in and out. normally, this is for a variety of grindy tasks that are easier to get done with a large group than a small one. if you want to watch people

lastly, hermitcraft will hold stream weekends! normally its announced on their social media, and will spread on tumblr when they happen. they're weekends where they have hermits scheduled all day, sending raids to each other at the end of the day! it's a great way to watch hermits stream with each other, as they normally pass a "torch" between each other all day and have specific tasks planned!

and that. ended up being longer than i expected, but yes, there are the hermits who stream that i am aware of/have seen around! i hope this helps!

[enchantedbyhiddles]

I keep reading that it seems Sylvie is the main character rather than Loki and i beginning to agree, Loki hardly seems clever anymore, he gets thrown on his ass/kicked around by everyone, everyone is referring to Sylvie as the superior Loki which is making me resent Sylvie if anything. he just seems be there along for Mobius and Sylvie's ride and is better than the Loki we known for 10 years. The focus is mainly on Sylvie and Sylvie is made out be more threatening and superior to Loki. Unless it what everyone else thinks it Tom Hiddleston Loki bowing out and being replaced by Sylvie since she is the better Loki within 5 mins of existing, while Loki we grown to Love over a decade, is treated awful/like a joke.

Hey dear anon, I think it might be good for you to take a step back. Don't care so much about what others might think or see in the show and about Loki. Watch the show for yourself and decide if you like it or not. I get that we all want to share our experiences with others, but it can also influence what we think. In the end it can make us resent what we used to love. The whole speculations and so on can also warp our perception. So sometimes it helps to just take the thing for what it is and find the love again. If you then still feel that way then it is okay to admit that the show is not for you. You don't have to love it. You shouldn't suffer through something that pains you. It is far better to then indulge in fanfictions and other fanworks. Find happiness with like-minded people, but don’t make yourself be miserable.

To me Loki is definitely the main character. He was there for the main time of four episodes. Of course people latch onto new characters. It is exciting and new. But both characters mostly exist in their relationship to Loki. Sylvie was now in what, two episodes? And from the looks of it in the next one even more Lokis enter the scene and I'm pretty sure that Old!Loki and Kid!Loki will get more screentime and very likely attention.

This shared screen though doesn't mean that Loki is any less. We got so many things about Loki that until now only existed in fandom. Loki being happy and singing, Loki drinking, Loki playing pranks, Loki talking about his relationship with Frigga, so much time of Loki expressing feelings and explaining himself, all this self-search and acknowledgement. Most of that until now only existed in seconds of screentime and some deleted scenes. While we might have known about that before, it was only because we as fans dissected every single second and build whole worlds around that. We got so much that only existed in our heads before. So in many cases we might not get that much meta about Loki, because fandom might just say "Ha, I knew it!", when our longheld suspicions are confirmed. With Sylvie and Mobius it is just the first new influx of information.

Loki is not a joke and I never felt the need to laugh at him here. Someone trying to find his way in a totally new and hostile environment isn't a joke to me. Someone struggling at times isn't funny. The only times I laughed with him was when he had fun. A few days ago Loki had no idea that anything more threatening than Thanos exists and now he found a partners with whom he plans to take them down. The whole TVA searched an eternity to try to find out how to stop Sylvie, Loki needed what? An afternoon in the library to figure it out. Sylvie might seem more capable at times, but then she had her whole lifetime preparing for that. Loki is smart and incredibly gifted.

I might have to agree that Loki doesn't seem as strong as before in comparison to the others at the moment. That's though is the always existing story-telling problem of a protagonist. He can't be better at everything than anyone around or you couldn't tell a heroic story any longer. In every TV show, in every movie series, with every single movie they invent a threat that is even bigger and more challenging than the one before. Now that Loki is the protagonist he falls victim to that. The good thing about the heroic story though is that the hero will also find new strengths and in the end emerges successful. :)

[joshjacksons]

Joshua Jackson interview with "Mr Porter" (2021)

Minutes before Mr Joshua Jackson joins me in a booth for a Friday afternoon drink at a vibey hotel bar in Santa Monica, he’s confronted by his past. Or rather, a woman in her early twenties who is binge-watching Dawson’s Creek, the teen show about a close-knit group of high-school friends coming of age in a sleepy American town, which made Jackson incredibly famous between 1998 and 2003. The series, which also made household names of Ms Michelle Williams and Ms Katie Holmes, went off air 18 years ago, but is now streaming on Netflix, to the bemusement of Jackson, who played lovable rogue Pacey Witter. “This girl was like, ‘Are you...?’ And I’m like, ‘Yes, I am. He got old. I’m sorry to break it to you,’” he says, before ordering an iced tea and a charcuterie board to tide him over until dinner time. “It always surprises me when young people say they’ve just got into Dawson’s Creek. I’m like, ‘Is it a costume drama to you? Do you feel like you’re watching a historical documentary?’”

The idea of a Friends-style reunion episode or a Sex And The City revival feels equally far-fetched to Canadian-born Jackson, now 43 and wearing it well in a pale green linen shirt and tailored linen trousers by Oliver Spencer that complement his fading brown hair and Cali-tanned skin.

“I don’t know why you’d want to [bring it back],” he says. “Nobody needs to know what those characters are doing in middle age. We left them in a nice place. Nobody needs to see that Pacey’s back hurts. I don’t think we need that update.”

And Jackson doesn’t need Dawson’s Creek. From Mr JJ Abrams’ sci-fi series Fringe (2008-2013) to the Golden Globe award-winning The Affair (2014-2019), from Ms Ava DuVernay’s ground-breaking true-crime drama When They See Us (2019) to the recent Ms Reese Witherspoon and Ms Kerry Washington-produced Little Fires Everywhere (2020), he has commanded the small screen – with a collection of dynamic and diverse work – ever since.

His latest role as Mr Christopher Duntsch, the Texas surgeon convicted of gross malpractice when 33 of his patients were left seriously injured after he operated on them and two of them died, in chilling Peacock crime drama Dr Death, is only stepping his career up another gear.

“I’ve never played anyone irredeemable before,” says Jackson, who is joined in the eight-part series (based on the 2018 Wondery podcast of the same name) by Messrs Christian Slater and Alec Baldwin. “He is charming, gregarious and has a high-level intellect, but he’s also a misogynist, probably a sociopath, certainly a narcissist and a complete incompetent who is incapable of seeing himself.”

If Duntsch is terrifying, then Jackson’s portrayal is even more so. The artist formerly known as Pacey is virtually unrecognisable (thanks to prosthetics) in the opening scene, but the real challenge for Jackson was allowing himself to view someone who is so “spectacularly evil” as a human being in order to walk in his shoes. “It’s a more damning portrayal of the man to make him into a human being, rather than just make him the bad guy,” he says. “He really believes he’s the hero, he’s the genius and that he’s the victim, so once I got past my own judgment, all the other things fell into place.”

Jackson might have his pick of stellar roles – and challenges – now, but it has not happened by accident. Take it from someone who has been in the business since landing his first job aged 14 in Disney’s live-action movie series The Mighty Ducks, opposite Brat Pack alumnus Mr Emilio Estevez.

“You try to make it look like it happens accidentally,” he says, “but there is no way to do this and not be ambitious. I’d say I’m extremely ambitious because I’ve been doing this cutthroat job for nearly 30 years. I’m in the pay-off phase of my career now. One of the benefits of surviving for as long as I have is you get to learn from your own mistakes.”

Such as? “I wouldn’t say, ‘I wish I hadn’t done that,’ because it all becomes bricks in a path, but [after Dawson’s Creek] I was not choosy enough about the things I was doing. You get stuck. You start trying to perform the performance you think people are hoping to see you do. I was so used to working all the time that I just worked all the time. There was definitely a conscious moment in my mid-twenties when I realised I wasn’t really enjoying the work that I was doing. My manager at the time just said, ‘Take a breath. You’re burnt out.’”

The turning point came in 2005, when Jackson was offered a role in the two-hander Mr David Mamet play A Life In The Theatre, opposite Sir Patrick Stewart. “God bless him, Patrick could have made my life miserable because I had no idea what I was doing, ” he says. “I hadn’t been on stage since I was a kid and now I was in the West End in over my head. But it reminded me that I actually enjoyed being an actor, that it’s not about the red carpet or travelling around the world. What I really enjoy is working on good material with good people.”

It’s no surprise Jackson’s time on Dawson’s Creek led to a career crisis. From the ages of 19 to 24, he lived with his fellow cast mates in Wilmington, North Carolina, filming day in, day out, in an arrangement he likens to college. “You get to the end and they’re like, ‘Here’s your degree. Go live now. You’re an adult. Go out into the world,’” he says.

But most graduates don’t have to deal with global fame. “It’s transitory. You’re only ever cool for a moment and then you become much less cool. I was always pretty dubious about flatterers,” he says, recalling a time he was stung in London in the mid-2000s. “I went on a date in Hyde Park with a woman whose name I will not use – she was socialite-famous – and she was acting completely bizarre, looking over her shoulder the whole time. I came to find out that she had hired a photographer to follow us through the park and gave a whole story to the tabloids about how I was going to meet her family.”

It was his growing fortune, rather than fame, that caused Jackson the most anxiety. “Suddenly, at 19 years old, I was making more in a week than most of my friends’ parents would make in a year,” he says. “It was lovely to have the money, but it was that feeling of nobody is worth that kind of money. You feel like a fraud and it took me a long time to forgive myself for not being the thing that I was perceived as.”

Born in Vancouver, but raised in Topanga, California, until he was eight (before moving back to Vancouver following his parents’ divorce), Jackson bought his childhood home in 2001 and lives in it today with his wife, British Queen & Slim actor Ms Jodie Turner-Smith, and their 15-month-old daughter.

“My father unfortunately was not a good father or a husband and exited the scene, but that house in Topanga was where everything felt simple, so it was a very healing thing for me to do,” he says. Fast-forward to 2021 and his baby daughter now sleeps in her father’s childhood bedroom. “There was a mural of a dragon on the wall in that room that I couldn’t believe was still there, years later. The owner [who sold him the house] said, ‘I knew it meant a lot to somebody and that they were going to come back for it some day.’”

Becoming a first-time parent during a pandemic sounds stressful, but it afforded Jackson months at home with his wife and child that his normal work schedule wouldn’t have allowed.

“I now recognise how perverse the way that we have set up our society is,” he says. “There is not a father I know who works a regular job who didn’t go back to the office a week later. It’s robbing that man of the opportunity to bond with his child and spend time with his partner.”

Despite his obvious career ambitions, fatherhood has changed Jackson’s priorities in “every possible way”, he says. “It’s 100 per cent changed how I approach my work and my life. That has been made so clear to me in this past year. For me to feel good about what I’m doing day to day, my family has to be the central focus.

“There are plenty of things left for me to do, but now the thing that gets me excited is experiencing the world through my daughter’s eyes. I can’t wait to take her scuba diving. I can’t wait to take her skiing. I can’t wait to read a great book with her. I’m not worried at all she’ll be a wallflower. She’s been a character from the word go.”

Jackson met Turner-Smith, 34, two days after his 40th birthday. He had been single since his 10-year relationship with German actress Ms Diane Kruger ended in 2016. “I was not looking to fall in love again or meet the mother of my child, but life has other plans for you,” he says.

The couple met at a party. Turner-Smith was wearing the same The Future Is Female Ejaculation T-shirt Ms Tessa Thompson’s character, Detroit, wears in the 2018 film Sorry To Bother You. “That’s what I used to break the ice. I shouted, ‘Detroit!’ across the room. Not the smoothest thing I’ve ever done, but it worked. We were pretty much inseparable from the word go. It was a whirlwind romance and I can tell my daughter I literally saw her mother across a room and thought, ‘I have to be next to this woman.’”

A self-confessed “useless” shopper, Jackson gives his wife full credit for his current wardrobe. He is jewellery-free, apart from a wedding band and a gold signet “JJ” ring on his little finger (a present from his wife), and discovered tailored sweatsuits (by Stampd and Reigning Champ) in the pandemic.

“Jodie has influence in the way that a wonderful wife encourages you, through love, to dress well. She was like, ‘We’re going to throw away all the sweatpants from your past and I’m going to get you some that actually make you look like an adult male and you will still feel comfortable around the house,’ and I’m like, ‘What an amazing idea!’ Who knew you could get sweatsuits that actually look good on your body?”

Jackson’s style has evolved, he says, “from slovenly teen to it’s-nice-when-your-clothes-actually-fit-you”. The penny dropped after he auditioned for his former co-star Estevez, who was directing the 2006 Mr Robert Kennedy biopic Bobby. He said to me, ‘You only got this job because I know you. You came in here to play a very well-put together 1960s political operative and you’re wearing jeans and a hoodie.’

“I had to grow up a little bit. We are very much raised in Canada to never, ever show off, so it took me a while to recognise it’s OK to look good when you go out.”

Still, when you’ve grown up in front of the camera, “every pimple literally documented”, and lived (very successfully) to tell the tale, you can probably be forgiven for the odd fashion faux pas.

“I wore a silk Ascot to an event once in Paris and I still have nightmares about it,” he says. “I looked like Fred from Scooby Doo, but you live and learn.”

[script-nef]

An actual break | Gojou Satoru

Category: fluff

2.6k words; Beach date [4/6]

← Previous chapter | Masterlist

You haven’t been to the beach in months. So a car trip for hours, where you can blank out and peer out of the window to enjoy the wonderful and ever-changing scenery is amazing. Dipping your feet in the water or eating from food vendors or enjoying the warm summer sun on your skin. Perhaps getting a tan if the weather is perfect. This would all be perfectly enjoyable and possible.

If it wasn’t for work.

“[Surname]-san, why are you coming with us? You said you can’t fight.” Itadori calls from the backseat, nestled not-so-comfortably between Fushiguro and Kugisaki. 

Wouldn’t it be better if Kugisaki is in the middle since she’s the smallest and the skinniest? The thought drifts into your head but you soon understand why. As soon as the words leave his mouth it’s met with a firm and resounding slap on the arm. Itadori’s yelp of pain is silenced under her hiss of “God, you’re so tactless! Now move over, it’s getting cramped with all of the bags.” Ah, she didn’t want to sit in the middle. And what bags? I didn’t bring any.

They keep their banter up and a quick glance to both Gojou and Fushiguro indicates that they have no intention of stopping it. Gojou is actually humming through the bickering. Why do I have to be the adult? He’s like, 5 years older than me. That’s literally what he said as the reason to drive instead of you. 

“It’s fine, Kugisaki-san. I’m coming along because there’s been a lot of cursed spirit activity around here and I need to see if something abnormal is happening. I’m not going to get in the way of the fight so you don’t need to worry.” You send Itadori a smile through the back mirror which he responds with a quick nod, then a confused look.

“Isn’t that Gojou-sensei’s responsibilities?” The mentioned adult laughs and smoothly makes a right turn. You want to slap him.

“Normally, yes, but he insists on being insufferable.” You turn to face them, leaning onto the seat with a scowl. “The report he made was nearly illegible and last time something like this happened, and I had to sit down with him for 3 hours to complete it. Even then, he was going off topic half the time and trying to distract me. Itadori-kun, Kugisaki-san, listen to me. If he doesn’t do his work, you have to practically force him.”

“Doesn’t work.” Fushiguro comments while looking out the window. Gojou has the audacity to laugh again.

“We had a great time! You were laughing your head off by the time we were done.” A light tug on your shirt makes you sit back properly. The scowl stays in place.

“I missed dinner! And I missed the last episode of Haikyuu thanks to that!”

“Fine, fine. I’ll take it up by buying you dinner, okay?” He must be kidding if that makes up for missing your favourite anime. Kuroo came and went thanks to him. The car comes to an abrupt stop just as you’re about to complain again. “We have arrived!”

Salt wafts in the air as the sea twinkles underneath the afternoon sun. It’s hot today, and humid enough to make your clothes stick to your skin, which is gross. Sunny and warm means a swim will be ideal, but you have to take care of the whole recurring curses thing first. Previous reports have said that they were all mid-level, so hopefully Gojou’s students won’t have that much of a problem taking care of them. That also means they, including you as well, might have the opportunity to relax for the rest of the day. 

The actual spot is somewhere in the nearby forest, filled thick with trees and so large that even if someone went missing it would take ages to search. An ideal hunting place since a lot of people visit there. Numbers dropped quite a bit after the fifth person “went missing”. 

The first task is to cover the place with a curtain. Since the place is so large and not encompassing the entire place was deemed too risky, large amounts of cursed energy is required. Hence Gojou’s efforts right now.

“[Name]-san.” Kugisaki calls you. “Are you coming in with us?” Her voice is tentative, like she doesn’t want to offend you. It’s kind of funny because she shows more respect for you than her actual teacher for some reason. Gojou complained about it before. She doesn’t know the extent, or more accurately the lack of, your powers and has a right to be worried. All she knows is that you can’t fight. 

“Ah, I am coming in, but I’ll stay far away from the fight. You don’t need to worry about me.”

“And I’ll be right by her side!” Gojou snaps into thin air, linking his arm with yours.  “Your personal bodyguard! But I’m sure you guys can handle this one.” Still humming a tune, he sends them along their way with a reassuring smile. You smile at Kugisaki and wish her good luck. Shooting Gojou a suspicious glare, she runs ahead to the two boys and starts whispering. They look back at the two of you and get into what seems to be an argument. A bad thing to do right before a possibly life-threatening mission.

You watch the group disappear deeper into the woods, fear gripping at your heart. This is actually the first time in the field after years of being tucked away in an office. Ken-chan specifically requested it due to your unique cursed energy situation. Apparently that was the first time he asked for a favour to the principle and he never asked for anything again. They can handle themselves, you’re sure, but Itadori already had a close call.

“Worried?” Gojou, on the other hand, sounds like he has no concerns in the world. Maybe that’s a testament to how much he trusts his students. It doesn’t alleviate your agitation. “It’s fine, we can just take a break here and if trouble comes, they can take care of it themselves.” You stare at him incredulously. “I’m kidding, I’m kidding! I’ll step in if something goes wrong. You’re all in safe hands.”

There is no one better than him in terms of fighting with cursed energy. How on earth someone like this gets imbued with endless power, you’ll never know. Sighing, you take a seat on a fallen log. The moss on them tickles your fingers. It feels nice, something to distract you from your brain being its usual bastard and thinking the worst case scenario. Gojou plops himself down right next to you. 

“We can go see them if you’re that worried, mother hen.” Nudging his leg shuts him up. Closing your eyes, you concentrate on reaching out for their cursed energy. Eight signals flicker from where they went, three blazing stronger than the others. One of them is nearly blinding. Sukuna is on a completely different level. If there’s that much of a difference in energy, they’ll finish soon and come back to have fun for the rest of the day. God knows they need it.

Your eyes flit open and come face to face with Gojou’s blindfold. It causes you to fall backwards and you brace for impact with a little yelp. But Gojou’s arm surrounds your abdomen, lifting you into the air and onto your feet. Heartbeats thud in your ears thanks to the sudden adrenaline boost.

“Did I scare you?” His laugh is cheeky. “I’m bored… Wanna play 20 questions?” As usual, his train of thought is impossible to even attempt to follow. A window of hundreds of tabs wrestling to be the first all the time is probably what the inside of his mind looks like.

“Sure, why not.”

Fushiguro, Itadori and Kugisaki all perk up when they receive the news of a day off to enjoy the beach. Since it’s closed off to the civilians, it’ll be like a private party. Something to keep their mind off of another mission that’s bound to come soon.

While they run off to the beach, you go to talk to the park rangers for the paperwork. Gojou asks if you want company but someone needs to supervise the children. The process takes barely 10 minutes anyway.

When you come back to the beach, the trio is screaming in the sea while trying to fight each other. Even Fushiguro is laughing. Childlike innocence is beautiful and long overdue. Two huge parasols and towels are laid out nearby where they’re playing. Gojou is out of his usual attire and in a swimming trunk. His blindfold is still on. Is this what was in the bags?

Now that you look more closely at the students, they’re all in swimwear as well. Looks like you’re the only one that didn’t get a memo. 

“Heya! Done?”  

“No thanks to you, Mr The-Whole-Reason-I’m-Here-In-The-First-Place.” He laughs at the nickname. 

“You should change.”

“I didn’t bring a swimsuit. Nobody told me and I was just thinking of dipping my feet.”

“Nobara brought you one. It’s in the bag labelled ‘If you look inside I’m going to kill you.’” Laughter comes out at the absurdity.

“Why did Kugisaki—”

“Because she wants you to relax. Now come on! Let’s have fun!” he pushes you excitedly towards the car. It’s really weird how someone your senior has more energy than you and his three students combined. Sighing, you trek back and find the bag. It really is labelled that, in caps. Kugisaki is a good kid. 

There’s a bathroom nearby for you to change in. The wind is still pretty strong when you walk out but you’re saved thanks to the school jacket. There’s also a pair of flip-flops. Ken-chan must have helped since they all fit perfectly. 

Itadori is being half-drowned when you come back. Fushiguro and Kugisaki are merciless when it comes to fighting. Gojou smiles as you walk into his line of sight. Scooting over to let you into the shade, he lies back onto the towel and stretches his legs out into the sun with a slight groan. You stay sitting up, watching the three children absentmindedly. 

Sunlight tickles your feet. The sea breeze stops it from being too hot but it’s slowly getting stuffier under the jacket. Quickly discarding it, Gojou catches your eyes while you fold it up.

It’s impossible to tell if he’s awake or sleeping thanks to his signature blindfold, but this is the most relaxed you’ve seen him in years; hands folded behind his head and muscles completely loose. Small scars dot his body, probably gained from fights which he deemed insignificant enough to bother Shouko with or heal himself. In a way, it’s a reminder for all the battles he’s survived. Pretty easily too, you’re guessing. There’s a deep one on his stomach and your hand moves towards it for some reason.

Long fingers intercept your hand just before it touches the scratched skin, entwining themselves to you. One end of Gojou’s lips quirks up. 

“I’m going to be embarrassed if you keep looking at my body, you know.” You immediately attempt to rip your hand back but he’s got you locked tight. He’s not even using Infinity. Heat threatens to explode your face because he’s been awake all this time and you’re going to die from shame. “If you wanted to touch me then you could have just asked.” Your fingers graze against the skin on his stomach for a split second but he loosens his grip and you will be damned if you don’t take that chance. 

Gojou cackles, enjoying your flustered state, and he’s halfway to suffocation because he’s laughing too much. His instincts still allow him to move out of the way for your punch. Doesn’t stop him from laughing though. Even his students, who were screaming and playing like they didn’t have a care in the world, are looking at the two of you. God, where’s a hole for me to die in right now?

Eventually, his laughter dies off. He’s still chuckling though. His teeth glint in the light as he gives you a wide smile. A sense of foreboding washes over you. 

“Up we go!”

“What?” Two arms hook under your knees and back, lifting you effortlessly into the air. Your body bounces in his arms every time he takes a step closer to the sea.

“Wait Gojou, wait wait wait wait!” 

“Gojou-sensei wai—” 

The water is freezing. 

“Gojou Satoru, I’m going to kill you!”

“That’s admirable! I’m sure you can do it!” Fushiguro snickers as you swipe an arm at Gojou, who moves away effortlessly again. Hair is plastered to your face and this rage is not going to subside unless you rip the blindfold off his smirking face and dunk his head into the water. But he keeps dodging you, just barely, as if to taunt you further.

Exhaustion sets in quickly since moving around in water is a lot harder and anger eats away at your stamina. Just as you’re about to give up, Gojou’s face is slapped with a wave of water. Everyone looks to Kugisaki. She has the biggest smile you’ve ever seen.

“Pfft.” Fushiguro’s laughter breaks the silence. Itadori snickers at Gojou’s drooping hair. Soon everyone’s laughing. Then Gojou whips water that hits all three of them straight in the chest with a resounding smack. They immediately retaliate with a wave that you get caught up in. 

It somehow turns into a students vs adults fight. Delighted laughter echoes in the air as everyone yells and shrieks when assaulted with icy water. There’s an unspoken rule to not use cursed energy, which is why your side is being pushed back. There’s no beating three excited kids when they’re on a holiday high. 

Backtracking a bit to get away from the constant surges of water, you don’t realise you’re going deeper and deeper into the sea. A rock shifts underneath your feet and you’re plunged into the cold grips of the sea, not even given enough time to call for help. Panic overtakes your senses as you squeeze your eyes shut, hands scrambling for something to hold onto. 

“[Name]!” Warmth engulfs you as Gojou lifts you out of the murky depth, worry and dread weaved into his voice. You blink rapidly as he gently brushes the hair off your face, and you see his eyes without the blindfolds for the first time. “Look at me, are you alright?”

They’re… indescribably beautiful. It’s the purest and translucent blue you’ve seen in your life, able to beat the colour of the ocean or the sky on its clearest days. It could compete with even the most exquisite sapphire locked up in a vault underground. And they’re clouded with concern and fear because of you.

“[Surname]-san!” Bringing yourself up by hugging Gojou’s neck, you see the trio wading through the water to you, dread clear on their faces. Itadori reaches you and rapidly asks if you’re fine and that he can’t possibly describe how sorry he is. It looks like he’ll dig his head into the ocean floor if you ask him to do it. Like he’s waiting for you to reprimand him.

But all that comes out is laughter, bright and childlike. They all look at you like you’re crazy. You have no idea why you’re laughing either. Maybe you’ve finally gone insane.

But being in Gojou’s arms, seeing his and Itadori’s face relax, brings you so much happiness. Tightening your arms around Gojou’s neck, you rest your head on top of his as he calms them down. 

Maybe it’s the adrenaline from nearly drowning, maybe it’s something else, but your heart thumps rapidly into your ribcage, probably loud enough for him to feel.

Next chapter →

[cloveroctobers]

SHEA BUTTER BABY | S. James

Requested by: @theshyprincess “Can I get a spencer James getting married and smut biracial if I’m not bothering you I really like your writing”

A/N: decided to do this in hc form, hope that’s cool? And it’s been my thing lately anyways lol. Hope you like this one! I also hope I channeled Spencer well 🙃

WARNINGS: light smut + some curse words ofc!

We all know Spencer takes the world on his shoulders; when his finds you, you become his world

You meet freshman year in university, specifically on the football field and decided to invite him to a sorority party because what’s the best way to start off your freshman year? A little party never hurt nobody

Except it did, things got rowdy resulting with a huge ass knot on your forehead and losing consciousness for a few minutes

You expected Spencer to dip like any other asshole dude would have but you were shocked that he actually came to your aid and walked you back to your dorm even tho you had a “big ass egg” growing from your forehead

You could laugh about it a little then, but more so now

He actually asked for your number before you departed, even tho you thought you majorly screwed whatever this was up but he wanted to see you again and you were more than happy to oblige

It was instant friendship with a touch of flirtations but you knew that he recently got out of some heartbreak from his senior year of high school and you had no choice but to respect that he wasn’t looking for a relationship right now

Day by day you became the best of friends spending majority of your time together while also getting to know each other’s outside friends and family, you became each other’s family

It was end of sophomore year where Spencer decided he wanted to give it a go but it was your turn to be leery since you watched him go through some girls but he never flaunted that in front of you, yet you always knew

You didn’t want to be his last option

“You could never be that, y/n. You’re so much more than what you think I think of you.”

Words of affirmation is definitely Spencer’s love language and he had no problem saying how he felt about you

He openly admitted that he was confused at first, trying to fight with his inner self on taking your friendship into the love zone. He’s always gone the friendship route first before it turned into romance—well maybe not with Kia but his past two relationships he did

He was not only confused but nervous and you made him work a little bit to get a date from you but you didn’t hold out for too long since you felt Spencer was your person

You took things slow but you still felt like friends except now you held onto each other a little longer and touches seem to burn now but you liked it, really liked it

Senior year is when he proposes, he’s actually the second out of his group of friends back home to get engaged...JJ was the first and actually went through with the marriage after one drunken night in vegas with some girl who was studying physical therapy

Sure it’s only been two years but like your grandmother always says, “when you feel a pull in your heart whenever they’re not around, they’re the one baby.” And your grandparents got married only after knowing each other for four months. Every love is different

You were a sappy mess and Spencer found it humorous while slipping the ring on and embracing you, “we not doing that. Save it until the wedding, huh?”

And he gets a few nice whacks to the chest but he can take it ofc as he’s kissing you so gently

It’s a private moment and you wouldn’t have it any other way

A year and a few months after you graduate, Spencer gets drafted into the NFL and you’re still searching for a job you majored in

You’re both living apart with you going back to your hometown in Arizona and Spencer in Cali. Things aren’t easy but you’ve been planning your wedding and it feels like Spencer is just saying he’s okay with everything which is frustrating. You don’t want to do this alone and you need to find a place to live together, you didn’t want to live with Spencer’s mom and brother as much as you loved them. You were both adults and needed to take the wheel

Yet it always felt like Spencer was busy planning on putting further distance between you since he was secure in his career and you just felt stuck

That caused a riff between you two but Spencer didn’t like that silent treatment bs. You were gonna talk to him one way or another

Once you get through it, which you definitely do!! it’s pure heaven and you couldn’t be happier

You get married at a banquet hall

You both have a lot friends and family that’ve invited

Your best friends + sibs are your best men, bridesmaids, maid of honor

Spencer leaves a chair open for his dad up front with his mom and brother 🥲

Initially you were going to have your guests pick whatever seat they wanted and just have your immediate family have the front areas but you knew that would probably end up hectic with the strong personalities you had within your friend and family group so you kept it traditional. Your family/friends on one side and spence’s family/friends on the other

Memorable wedding, you were gorgeous and he was so handsome. You loved when Spencer got dressed up, it did something to you and you couldn’t wait for your honeymoon

It wouldn’t be anything over the top like The Bakers tried to gift you with, you just wanted something simple but nice with the man you loved

You were going to Palm Springs the next morning!!! Spending the night in the hotel

You were going to hold out even longer until the night you reached your honeymoon destination 😌

Spencer wanted the both of you to write your own vows and you sure didn’t know how you would compete with this guy. Spencer James always had a way with words!!!

He ofc had you a sobbing mess again but you knew it was never about out-showing the other

when you seal your marriage with a kiss, his hands rest securely on your hips with your hand cradling his jaw and you’re all smiles as the hall fills with cheers

“I love you, Mrs. James.” He’s got that smirk of a smile on his lips and love in his eyes

“As do I, Mr. James.” And you can’t wipe the smile from your own lips even if you tried

One thing you both know how to do is party so the reception goes on for awhile, until about 3 am even tho you both have to be on the road by 10 or a little later since check in isn’t until early afternoon

You’re both so giddy you can hardly sleep but you eventually do, you in your dress + Spencer in his dress shirt but he’s lost the tie and loosened his pants

Since Palm Springs is a 2 hr drive you’re reminiscing on how you basically taught Spencer how to drive and look at how far he’s come now with the rental you’re both using for 4 days and 3 nights

“so it’s my fault you don’t know how to instruct?” Which leads to harmless bickering over spencer’s road trip playlist

it’s been agreed that you each had an hour to play your playlists then for the left over minutes you’d listen to the radio once you got to your destination

your airbnb is REAL colorful and modern, not exactly your tastes but nonetheless it was your getaway from home. You were used to the desert while spencer? Not so much

“the hell was that?” Spencer is dodging and weaving especially if they fly

“looks like fire ants.” keep your distance.” “Why do you know what that is?” “I get stuck watching discovery channel with my dad when I can’t sleep and he’s always up. I saw one episode about them and we don’t want to mess with those bastards.”

you don’t do much with the rest of your day there, just enjoying each other’s company in the air bnb

You decide to shower while Spencer is ordering y’all your dinner from grubhub and deciding what you’re going to watch on firestick that you bought with you

you tend to take long showers so you’re just about done rubbing shea butter into your skin when Spencer announces that the food is here through the door

when you step out you’re on a mission with your silk robe, bustier, and garter

although you kept your own values of saving yourself until marriage—while Spencer was way more experienced you didn’t feel as nervous to get intimate with the man of your dreams

but that changed the moment his set his eyes on you

“what’s this?” He smirks, popping a fry into his mouth

You’re playing coy as your skin shines, leaning over to steal one of his fries. “My pajamas.”

He’s amused but definitely turned on, “oh aight, so that’s just the norm for you now?”

“I could change.” You pointed back to the where the bathroom sat

“I ain’t say all that, Mrs. James.” Spencer blinks then lifts his head upwards, “c’mere.”

And you move to sit on his lap with excitement even tho you think you hide it pretty well. You’ve always pictured how this would be and you knew from stories from your cousins and friends that half of them didn’t have the most romantic experience...

You didn’t need the rose petals and candles but you knew Spencer was a romantic at heart, plus you had plenty of time to see what was up his sleeve and knew this wouldn’t be the only time as of tonight. You were hoping!!!

“Are we starting dinner?” You ask, wrapping an arm across his shoulders but his eyes are set only on you

“I’m hungry for somethin’ else right now,” his nose presses against your beating throat, “and it just walked in here, looking good enough for this appetite.”

Now he’s kissing on your neck and when he gets to that sweet spot behind your ear he’s got the confirmation he needs but he needs to hear you say it. And he asks with his eyes which you reply with a dip of your head

Now he’s got his hands underneath your thighs, locking your legs around his waist for you and he’s off to your temporary bedroom

He’s always so gentle with you, even when he’s laying you down on this bed

“I promise the next time we do this, I’ll make the place look special for you.” He says into your neck and your nod as you feel the weight of him against you

You’re gasping for breath before he’s been fully touched you yet, “we still have the tub and a couple of days.”

He breathes out a laugh, “that we do. That we do.” Before your lips are brought back together

You know you are loved with the way Spencer touches you and speaks to you even in your most intimate moment

He builds you up before he gives himself all to you. It’s something you heard about, SEEN and knew it was crucial but you didn’t want to put too much logic in this moment. You don’t think you can even think straignt with the way you’re on fire for Spencer rn

And he’s know that but he needs you to be patient, he knows how to take his time. And he should know what he’s doing...he does

He’s seeing what your body likes, he’s watching his face even when you begin to whine for him

He knows when you’re truly ready even when you’re begging

He gives you your first climax with his mouth and you know you need more because you knew how much you loved his lips but you loved them even more now

“even better than I imagined,” he says with a lick of his lips from below before pressing a kiss on your abdomen and you’re still seeing stars

“you okay up there?” He asks. He’s always seeking reassurance from you. That’s too important to him, you’re too important to him

You have to say it as your vision slowly starts to splat back to normal, “I need you i-in— but there’s heat pooling in your cheeks. You’re a bit shy now as you’re getting in your head wondering how you must have sounded or looked in that moment of your first climax but it didn’t seem as if Spencer was disappointed. He seemed just as happy to please

He knows what you need. He worked with your body up to this moment

So he’s kissing up your body, slow and soft. He looks into your eyes before he glances over to grab his wallet from the night stand to grab protection

you didn’t think this far ahead but part of you wanted to know if there was a difference without, ofc you knew the risks without and you had forever to try so you made no comment about the choice to use protection

You wanted to do the honors, and so you did

You were surely in awe to be this close and personal with something you get to have for a lifetime

“Careful, something might fly in there.”

You can’t help but you roll your eyes and snort as Spencer places a kiss to your cheek before he reaches up to lock your hands together and up over your head, your wedding bands contrasting against the bright orange walls and your shea butter skin

“I’m ready.” You whisper, your eyes shifting from Spencer’s deep brown eyes to where your bodies would connect

Spencer hums as he keeps his eyes on yours before lining up, he has to free one of his hands to guide

and your mouth falls open with a slight arch in your back

He doesn’t move right away, he needs to be sure

when you lock both legs around his hips, tugging him closer than close to you, fully allowing him in your space, you then squeeze your hands tighter together, never wanting to let go

Spencer James was all you ever needed and you were more than thrilled to continue this journey of life with him

[lcnelyinthesky]

six to six - sakusa x reader

a/n: i haven’t written fluff in forever it seems,, its only been a few days. in any case! heres some self indulgent sakusa! i hope youre all having a wonderful day!

genre: fluff

warnings: timeskip!jobs

word count: 1.6k

enjoy!! <3

6:00

Sakusa wakes up for his morning run to an alarm that plays quiet, exclusively piano music. He kisses the shell of your ear as his eyes open, shifting your body slightly to get his arm out from under you without waking you up. You tend to sleep as the little spoon--it makes him sleep soundly knowing you’re fully protected in his embrace. He takes the cream colored comforter off of his larger frame and tucks it up to your chin, planting a kiss on your forehead before he gets changed into his running clothes. He walks around your shared apartment, turning the kitchen light on on his way out.

7:00

You continue to sleep soundly as the sun sends beams of yellow light in through the curtains. The warmth left in your bed from Sakusa’s body is still present as you sleep much lighter than the hours before. Your almost awake mind can tell he’s no longer there, but is too sleepy to start your day. You absent-mindedly take fistfuls of fabric up to your face, just over your nose, as your eyes and nose scrunch closed from the incoming light.

8:00

You hear the door unlock and the sounds of Kiyoomi’s lighter steps. Despite his height and the expectation, he takes very cautious steps as a habit. He walks like the top of his head is being pulled up by a string, and you probably wouldn’t have been able to hear if you weren’t waiting for the sound. A few minutes pass and he’s standing over your body, stroking your hair with a freshly washed hand as sweat dries on his forehead. He speaks in a quiet voice, almost like he doesn't want you to hear him. He doesn't want to disturb your peace, but knows he needs to. “Wake up, love.”

9:00

You’re both sitting around your kitchen island. Sakusa’s hair is being dried in a t-shirt to protect his curls while you sit next to him, still in your pajamas and refusing to get dressed like a small child. The grey granite countertops are adorned with plates that used to hold omelettes. You didn’t have anything going on that morning, so you decided to make a considerably nicer breakfast than usual. Sakusa watched and made sure you washed the raw egg off of your hands every time you cracked an egg. 

“Who taught you how to crack an egg? Those things are full of diseases. Make sure you actually wash it off, don’t just rinse them.” Sakusa leaned forward to grab the soap on the kitchen sink and squeezed it into your hand; both to be sure you used soap and so you didn’t “get the egg goop on the bottle.”

10:00

Sakusa left for volleyball practice and you went with him, planning to watch MSBY in their natural habitat and maybe poke some fun at Atsumu while you’re at it. He wore what you’d expect, but you had since showered and dressed up, wearing fancier, beige pants and a bright red button up shirt under a long brown jacket. Your shoes matched your shirt, the red of both pieces being fun without being overbearing. Sakusa told you he thought you looked “ravishing, love.”

His hands were in the pockets of his jacket and your arm was interlocked with his. He preferred having his hands tucked away if they could be, so this was always how you walked places. Besides that though, you looked like a power couple when you walked arm in arm. You looked like you both had it all together. 

11:00

“Get it Omi! When’d you learn to do that?” They were having a little in-team practice game and you couldn’t help but shout from the sidelines. Today was seemingly a free day for more than just you as you sat down next to Akaashi in the stands.

“L/N, I hate to say this again, but stop yelling!” The coach was not fond of your passion, but in the same second he said that, Bokuto shouted to Akaashi about something he did, asking the latter if he saw with the proudest smile on his face. Akaashi did, of course, even when writing vigorously, and shot a small but noticeable smile back at the excitable Bokuto, saying he did see and was proud of him. Bokuto beamed for the rest of practice. 

12:00

You left the gym to get yourself lunch, walking confidently down the sidewalk looking for something that tickles your fancy. You settled on a crepe from a street vendor, regretting nothing as you ate the thin, chocolate covered pancake. As you continued your stroll, you walked into a small shop riddled from one side to the other with small trinkets. The back wall of this small, colorful shop was covered in socks of all kinds with random prints on each one. You thought the ones with small aerosol cans of cleaning products were hysterical and decided to buy them for your boyfriend, knowing he’d love them just as much as he’d hate the teasing. 

On your way back to the gym to continue watching, you stumbled upon a small flower shop and decided to walk around, smelling some of the flowers before you complimented the owner on their work and continued on your way.

13:00

Technically, practice on this simple, Saturday afternoon was over--but you found yourself setting volleyballs into Kiyoomi’s hand as you listened to the rhythmic slamming of those same balls to the floor. You had never properly played volleyball, but you had become decent at setting over the years you had known Sakusa. He was one with a fighting, passionate spirit. He’d always do whatever he needed to win. This meant, though, having arm muscles you never actually need and having volleyball skills that could rival an over-confident middle schooler. 

It was thrilling though, and you’d never say you weren’t absolutely enthralled with his abilities. He was a very cold, distanced person, but seeing him in his element made you meet a whole different version of him. It excited you to no end.

14:00

You and Sakusa were both dripping with shower water. He went in to rinse off his sweat, and you joined him with a devilish grin on your face. He massaged shampoo into your hair as you closed your eyes and melted into the feeling of his hands and the warm water, blissfully forgetting the outside world for as long as you possibly could. He made you feel safe and at home, and nothing felt nicer than when he showed physical affection; especially as that affection was few and far between sometimes. 

15:00

Your living room had a white leather sectional in it. You always took the corner, aiming your feet towards the tv, while Sakusa either sat next to you with his feet on the glass coffee table or with his back against the arm, aiming his feet towards you. You sat and wrote while you listened to your favorite record as it played softly, occasionally moving your head to the beat. Sakusa scrolled through some random social media app and read every stupid thing he was shown, giggling sometimes to break the comfortable silence. Your favorite song came on, and the second Sakusa heard the first beat he stood up and outstretched his hand to you, asking you to dance with him. He was different in private. Far more confident and a lot less scared, and when he was with you it was like nothing mattered at all. He was truly at home with you, and you were more grateful for that than you could explain. 

16:00

With that one dance came plenty more, changing the record when one ended to another with more spunk. Both of you were worn out though, laying on the perfectly clean, white carpet in your living room while trying to catch your breath. Sakusa’s back was on the floor while your head was comfortably on his chest. You curled up against his frame as he stroked your hair.

“Hey, Omi?” Your voice was soft and kind. You spoke in a way where even if other people were around they wouldn’t be able to hear you. Just you and Kiyoomi.

“Yes, Y/N?” He propped himself up with his elbows and looked into your eyes as you turned to look into his.

“I kinda really like you.” You still spoke softly, a small blush going over your face as he giggled at what you said.

“I kinda really like you too, dork.”

17:00

You and Sakusa always cooked together, especially when raw ingredients were involved. He stayed away as you dealt with the uncooked food, and you stayed away as he worked on the rest, mouth watering as he made you wait. Sakusa wore an apron when he cooked. It was one you found at a shop full of handmade goods. It had watermelon on it.

You walked up to him as he slaved over the stove, asking to taste the rice in the pan before he told you no and to turn around. You pouted in response, but sat again at your spot on the kitchen island, holding your head up by your arms as you almost tasted the flavors in the air. 

18:00

Both of you were full after eating and you sat again on the couch. Sakusa cued up an episode of the objectively terrible show you were binging together and put his arm around your shoulders, allowing you to nuzzle your face into his chest. You both laughed hysterically as you made jokes jabbing at the plot, becoming completely present in the situation one stupid sentence at a time. 

Sakusa Kiyoomi was holding you in his arms, and even though it took a long time for him to get to that point, you’re thankful everyday for the end result. He was yours; this was the bliss you always wanted. 

[katnissmellarkkk]

Chapter Three

Hiiii, all you cool cats and kittens 😂😂😂😂. Okay but seriously, imma just word vomit all the things I need to cover in this author’s note — that I can remember.

I’ve been writing this chapter for like a week, I’m super nervous about it, I’m really sorry if this angst is upsetting you, I am gonna do my best to make it all right in the end, the angst is gonna continue though for a bit longer, yes this fic is only 10 chapters, yes I still want your comments even if you’re upset, my eye is still having trouble so I can’t look at a computer screen for too long because it physically hurts so I’m editing on my phone and there is a high chance I’ll re-edit these chapters after my eye isn’t all Heltor Skeltor anymore.

Okay I think that’s everything, I very much am gratefully for all the feedback I’ve received and I hope you all continue to read this fic.

Peeta stayed for hours after that. He smiled and laughed and, for a while, made me forget all about my unbearable loneliness, how empty this home feels, how uncomfortable I am with the prospect of my mother moving on with her life, how much I really miss my sister right now.

How I miss my sister more than anything.

He still makes me feel safe, I realized, as we sat on the couch and ate our third helping of the chocolate cake he’d baked for me. He knows how much I love chocolate from all the meals we shared on the train.

“Actually, from the time you decided to just eat the chocolate fountain by itself,” he had corrected. Off my quizzical look, he added, “At Snow mansion? We were there for a party?”

“Our engagement party?” I amended, teasing him a little.

My attempt at levity works as I watch his mouth contort into smirk in response. “Sorry, I guess I forgot what party it was.”

“They did drag us to a lot of them,” I agreed, not foreseeing the jab he was about to throw.

“And you pigged out at every one of them.”

I pretended to be offended for a moment but his proud laughter made me lose the facade far sooner than I should have. The joyful glint to his gaze, the way his body language was relaxed and open, the way he seemed to remember small details of our shared past now, I just couldn’t hold even a false grudge against him. I just couldn’t help giggling alongside him.

But he had to leave around dinner time, having an appointment to get the construction for the new rebuilt bakery approved and in motion.

As soon as he departs, and I’m left once again inside a void, hallow house that only emphasizes the greatest loss of my life—the one I’ll probably never go a single day without feeling the ache of—I decide I need to leave too. I decide as soon as I glance around the empty place that it’d be in my best interest to get out as well, to prolong the inevitable despair the deserted home brings come nightfall.

My first thought is to drop off the liquor I picked up for Haymitch a few days ago at the train station. He was passed out drunk and I was already there and it seemed at the time like a good bargaining chip when he was feeling particularly caustic towards me. Which lately had been often.

Now it just poses a good excuse to go talk to the sour man, to perhaps pick his brain about Bailey Robyn. To perhaps see what he knows that I don’t about the mysterious girl who blew into both our lives.

And only evidently disturbed one of them.

He has clearly has gotten to know her better than I have, and he’s quite transparently taken quite a liking to her. If I want to know this girl, or even begin to understand what Peeta sees in her, it only makes sense to get Haymitch to share some details in exchange for his favorite liquor.

After all, our entire relationship has always been a series of bargains, one way or another.

Throughout mine and Peeta’s entire time together—which amounted to the whole afternoon—he had never once mentioned Bailey. He hadn’t said she was waiting for him or what she thought about the cake or if she even knew he would be at my house today.

And for some reason that led me to assume she was busy in town somewhere. That she was working on the salon she mentioned wanting to start up, that she was out doing things herself, that she wasn’t even concerned with Peeta celebrating my birthday today.

That she wasn’t sitting on Haymitch’s counter, talking to him about that very subject.

“It just doesn’t make me feel great, you know?” Her clear and high voice rings out from the window right as I’m gearing up to barge my way inside the pig sty. “I want to go with him, in case he has an episode or something, and he tells me no. Like flat out, full stop, no.”

I slip in through the unlocked front door, quiet as a mouse, eavesdropping like I know I shouldn’t. Like I know is a complete violation of privacy, both for Bailey and for Haymitch. And maybe even Peeta, since he’s the one they’re conferring about.

“He’s stubborn,” Haymitch agrees, sounding more sober than I’ve heard him in months. Sounding more sober than I’ve seen since we were in Thirteen. “Try mentoring him in the games.”

Bailey scoffs at that. “No. You couldn’t pay me enough.”

They share a laugh and I feel my hands tighten around the bottle, as an extremely uncomfortable sensation settles into the pit of my stomach.

They sound like old friends. They sound happy and pleased to be hanging out and conversing. And if I’m being honest, it gives me one more reason to instinctively dislike Bailey, despite the fact that I’m trying hard not to.

Because in the short time she’s been in Twelve, she’s slid into my place in both Peeta and Haymitch’s lives with complete and utter ease. Even beyond taking my place, she’s outrankedme in both men’s lives and entirely knocked me out of the saddle.

That’s what disturbs me above all else. Because—even though I’d never admit it about Haymitch—they were mine. They were my family. They were all I had. They were my haven from the darkness surrounding my entire life. The three of us were a team once.

And now it feels like she didn’t join the group, she kicked me out of it entirely. Haymitch has never had me sit on the counter of his kitchen—not that I really wanted to, the place is absolutely filthy—and talk about my problems. He’s always mocked my feelings and troubles, when they didn’t pertain to the war or rebellion.

I don’t get what is so special about this girl that the two most important people in my life are willing to just let her in. Are just willing to let her take me out without a second thought.

“I mean, is it odd that I wanted to be included?” She inquires genuinely and to my surprise, once again, my old mentor gives her a pretty thoughtful answer. For Haymitch Abernathy, at least.

“They’re both a little weird. War messes with people. Especially kids,” he murmurs and then grunts uncomfortably. “Don’t get worked up over nothing. Just let whatever happened go and try to be happy.”

For some reason, even without hearing my name mention specifically, I’m fully convinced that they’re conversing about me as well as Peeta. About our afternoon together, void from Bailey’s presence. Without hearing my own name, I still know in my bones I walked in on a talk about me.

Bailey wanted to come today and Peeta told her no? Peeta told her an unequivocal no? Because he wanted to spend time with just me?

That satisfies me beyond measure. That makes me even happier than the carefully handcrafted birthday cake did.

Suddenly, for the first time since she’s arrived in Twelve, I don’t feel like Peeta put me on the back burner to make her more comfortable. I don’t feel like I’m being slided so she can be accommodated to her liking. And that’s a better present to me than anything else I could have asked for.

“But I’m his girlfriend,” she states quietly, before sighing deeply and setting down a glass that she must have been drinking from. Risk-taker, she is. “And I just feel like every day all he thinks about is Katniss. He’s either worried about her or afraid of her.”

Now that catches me completely off-guard. Peeta’s afraid of me? Is he telling Bailey something I don’t know? What did I do that he’s so afraid of?

Please, I internally beg to no one. Please tell me he doesn’t still think of me as a mutt. Please tell me he doesn’t feel the same way about as he did in Thirteen.

No, I venomously refute. That wouldn’t make sense. If he still thought of me that way—the way Snow tried to brainwash him into—he would surely not be baking me a cake and spending an afternoon alone with me.

At least, I don’t think so.

But I’m always wrong nowadays and I long ago learned to stop trusting my instincts because they don’t any good for me in the end anyway and I just end up more jumbled and confused and stressed than I started out.

I take a deep breath to calm myself down just as Haymitch mutters, “That description isn’t a far cry from the kid I met two years ago on the tribute train.”

Evidently, I breathed out too loudly almost immediately, Haymitch barks out, “Is that you, girl?”

Realizing I’m caught, I rip off the bandaid and step out of the corner of the entryway, where I was hiding. “Sorry, I just got here,” I quickly explain. And then, despite my atrocious acting ability, I throw out for good measure, “I didn’t hear anything you guys said, I just didn’t want to interrupt.”

Neither of them believe me. In fact, they both appear pretty disgusted with me now. But when I pass Haymitch the bottle of liquor, his features shift and I feel him lightly pat me on the head as he passes me to grab a bottle opener.

“Haymitch,” Bailey murmurs unceremoniously, as she hops off the counter with a grace I have no dream of ever possessing. “I’m going to head on home.”

Her eyes meet mine for a split second before flirting away, and all I see there is irritation.

I hope she doesn’t try again to make nice in a day or so. Quite frankly, there’s a reason I never made many friends. Social interactions aren’t my thing and they just wear me out unnecessarily. Especially girls, who only want to gossip about other people or share clothes or irrelevant life tips. I’d much rather be left alone in solitude than have to yo-yo with Bailey’s mood swings.

Haymitch has always empathized with this trait of mine. More than empathized. He embodied it to the fullest, in a way I never even have. That’s what makes it so startling to me that he’s found such a friend with Peeta’s new girlfriend. It’s downright shocking how pleasant he is towards her.

When he returns now, she’s already gone and he’s right back to his surly self.

“No one clears a room like you do, sweetheart.”

But I’m not interested in swiping back and forth with one another. “Why are you hanging out with Bailey Robyn?”

Haymitch rolls his eyes as he takes a seat at his still unwashed kitchen table.

I mean, if Bailey wanted to help clean in here, that’s where I would have suggested to start.

“The better question, Katniss, is why are youhanging out with Peeta alone? How do you think that makes his girlfriend feel?”

“He’s my friend,” I argue, infuriated by the implication that I have to go through a random stranger to be around Peeta now. Infuriated that it’s Haymitch making the implication nonetheless.

“But he isn’t!” The old man snaps back. “Peeta isn’t your friend, Katniss. You look at him like he hung the moon and you do it right in front of his new girl.”

“No, I don’t,” I retort sharply, because I definitely don’tand I repel the accusation.

“Anyone with eyes can see your stupid little crush,” he exclaims and it stings. The words sting for some reason and I feel the ache in my chest come back once again, because apparently I’m stepping over a line I didn’t even know was there and I’m once again the root of every problem and it’s all becoming too much.

Evidently, Haymitch just doesn’t care if he hurts me today. “Just back off of the boy. Let him be happy for once.”

I uncharacteristically spit an unkind name at Haymitch as I slam his door in my furious wake.

Through his still open kitchen window though, I hear him chuckle. “Well, that’s one I haven’t heard before, sweetheart.”

Read More On AO3 Where The Italics Actually Work

[auroracalisto]

by your side

Requested by anon: Can I get a fluff fic of either Elijah Mikaelson or Damon Salvatore where the reader is going through a rough time (depressive episode) and they comfort reader through it? 😔

pairing: damon x reader

word count: 843 words

warnings: depressed reader, mentions of no sleep, messy bed, bad thoughts.  not too into the details of things, but just a clear warning soooo ooo o OH AND I ALMOST FORGOT THE READER AND DAMON HAVE A SHOWER TOGETHER BUT IT’S NOTHING M+ BUT IT’S DEFINITELY NOT FOR LIKE,,, PG.  IT’S LIKE,,, HE HELPS HER SHOWER.  YEAH.  BUT IF THAT MAKES U UNCOMFY, PLEASE GO AWAY.  also possibly ooc! damon just bc.  but it’s not too far off if you’ve watched season 4 of tvd LMAO 

author’s notes: ldjkfalsj i chose damon because i have 10+ of elijah and like,,, 1 of damon so that’s why we are here omg.  also, thank you for the request!!!  i enjoyed writing this!!  also like,,, if the shower part makes you uncomfy,, just send me another request and i will rewrite it!!

As soon as Damon stepped into your apartment, he knew something was wrong.  The vampire usually could tell when you were upset; but this was different.  He walked down the hallway, finding your bedroom door cracked open and the lights completely off.  You were curled up in a pile of pillows and blankets.  

“[Your name]?”

You didn’t answer him, but you slowly lifted your head up to look over at the man.  You didn’t look like you had slept at all.  

He frowned and came over, sitting on the edge of the bed.  “What’s wrong?”

You shrugged, laying back down in the blankets.  Damon frowned but laid back with you, staring up at your ceiling fan that continuously moved.  

“How long have you been like this?”

“What time is it?”

Damon pulled out his phone and checked the time.  “It’s five in the afternoon.”

“Since last night.”

Damon’s frown deepened.  He turned to face you, resting his head on his head. “Come on.  Get up for me.  Shower and we can get you something to eat.”

You shook your head, turning your back to him.  

Damon leaned over and pressed a soft kiss to your shoulder.  “What if I showered with you?”

“Damon, I don’t want to have—”

“—no, no,” he softly spoke.  “Just a shower.  That’s all.”

You looked back at him, frowning.  But you nodded.  

Damon gave you a soft smile and he got up, coming over to your side. He helped you out of the bed.  “You look like you haven’t slept in days.”

“I just… can’t sleep.”

Damon led you to your bathroom and he started the water as warm as you always liked it.  He turned back to you, seeing you just standing there.  He leaned over and kissed the corner of your lips before he began to undress you. 

You made it easy on him and you lifted your arms when needed and stepped out of your pants as well.  Damon took ahold of your hand and pressed a kiss to your knuckles before he took off his own clothes.  Usually, when the two of you did this, it was far steamier—and not due to the hot water showering down on the two of you.  But now, Damon was watching a shell of your usual self.  

He helped you into the shower and got in behind of you.  He began to wash your hair and your body, making sure that he kept you talking and looking at him.  

“What’s wrong?” he repeated from earlier.   

This time, his question seemed to strike a chord and the tears suddenly came faster than he expected.  Damon quickly stood and cupped your cheeks.  

“Hey… hey, stop that—”

You cut him off by tightly hugging onto the man.  “Just hold me…”

Damon frowned and tossed the washcloth to the floor and he wrapped his arms around you.  He listened to you cry, and a part of him wanted to kill whatever made you feel this way—but he knew that it was your own mind making you feel this way.  

He pressed a kiss to the top of your damp hair, and he rubbed small circles on your back.  

“Come on.  Let me finish washing your hair, and we can get back into bed, okay?”

As soon as he saw you nod, he finished up.  He didn’t bother washing himself—right now, his main concern was you.  He helped you back out of the tub after he turned the water off and began to dry you off. He dried your hair the best he could, but you ended up taking the towel away from him to do it yourself.  

Damon walked into your bedroom and got some clothes out for you and for himself.  As you walked back into the room, you frowned.  

“Can I wear some of your clothes…?”

Damon looked back at you and smiled, putting back the clothes he had gotten out for you.  He pulled out a set of his boxers and a tee shirt for you.  

He began to get dressed and then went to help you.  Even the simplest of things seemed to be bothering you.  He leaned up and pecked your lips.  

“When was the last time you ate?”

You frowned at him, not wanting to answer.  

“Fine.  We’ll lay down for a little bit.  But not too long.  I want you to eat something today, okay?”

The nod you gave him seemed to satisfy his request and he led you back to your mountain of pillows and blankets.  He first laid everything out, so it looked like a properly made bed before he helped you back into it.  He then laid beside of you and wrapped his arms around your torso.  

“I’m sorry you’re feeling like this…”

You didn’t answer, only pressing yourself into his arms.  Damon frowned and rested his head on the pillow above the two of you.  But you ended up falling asleep in the vampire’s arms and he couldn’t stop himself from falling asleep as well.  

[kitkat1003]

Everything is Blue

Chapter 1:  His pills, his hands, his jeans

MK just wants everyone in his life to be safe and happy, to never leave him.  He'll do whatever it takes to make that happen.

And, luckily for him, the voice in his head has the perfect plan to make that happen.

(Or, the author contemplates how slow the possession was for DBK in episode 10 and considers how MK would fall)

Ao3 link

This is a 13k monolith of a first chapter, but I'm very proud of how it turned out!  I threw it together in 4 days with the help of my beta reader @imnotcameraready on tumblr, famous for the Chivalry is Dead sanders sides au.  Give it a read, it's on Ao3 and tumbr!  It even has a sequel!  Seriously, she’s a great writer and edited this thing in like 2-3 hrs after I threw it at her.  A godsend.

Anyway, happy reading!

When MK knocks the canisters off of DBK’s back, he thinks that’s the end of it.  He wasn’t exactly given the rundown on how the cannisters worked, nor does he know why whatever was in them caused DBK to go crazy, but at the very least he only had to fight the one guy instead of the entire family. It was weird to fight with Red Son and Princess Iron Fan (shouldn't she be Queen, at this point?  She's married to Demon Bull King, after all. Do they not have the paperwork?) but not unwelcome. He wishes they could be on the same side all of the time.

Because he was raised on stories of Monkey King’s adventures, which frequently discuss the Demon Bull Family, and he’s always thought they were interesting in those stories.  He thinks Princess Iron Fan is super cool, even though she’s scary and actively wants him dead.  Red Son is...well, he wasn’t what MK expected, but that isn’t exactly a bad thing.  If anything, MK thought he’d be older.  He doesn’t understand how demon aging works.

Tangents aside, he watches them disappear in a gust of wind and groans, flopping forward as he bemoans the fact that they left again, when he’d just beat them.  Well, he hadn’t actually fought all three of them, this time.  DBK had fought more people than he had.

He jumps as the cave begins to crumble from all the damage that it took from the fight, scrambling to find a way out, when—

A New Vessel?

A voice curls into his ear, a soft whisper.

Young.  Powerful.  Weak.  Freedom.

He looks down, and he sees a white light sink into his skin.  Cold seeps into his every pore, bone, and nerve, his muscles tensing as the temperature drops.  His teeth chatter, and when he lets out a startled breath he sees white air drift in front of his face.  The warmth of his powers—his Monkey King powers—is smothered, and soon all MK feels is the cold that keeps him in place, rooting him to the spot.  It’s a miracle he’s even standing.  

What is this?  

What’s happening?

His eyes dart to the cannisters.  The empty canisters.  There was something in there, earlier, right? Where did it go?  

Is this?  Wher e it w  e n    t?  

Wha t   i  s  . .   .  ?

It’s hard to think.  His thoughts are newly cracked ice upon a lake, pieces crashing slowly against each other and fracturing further, splintering into nothingness.

New Vessel.  Rest.

His eyes slide shut, out of his control, as his consciousness, like everything else, is smothered by the chill.

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He wakes up on the shoulder of the Monkey Mech, as the last rays of sun are streaking across the steadily darkening sky, like a lighthouse beam against the dark sea.  He sits up, staring far into the horizon, as confusion pulls him out of the just woken up daze.  How did he get here?

“MK?” He jumps, startled, and turns to realize that Mei is right next to him, a concerned smile on her face.  He stares at her, trying to figure out why she’s here, how she got here.  Then again, he doesn’t even  know how he got here.  He feels dizzy just trying to remember. 

“You alright, kid?” Pigsy’s voice comes from his other side, and he forces himself not to jump, turning to look at his boss.  Tang and Sandy are there too, and Sandy waves while Tang smiles in greeting mid slurp, bowl of noodles in hand.

“What happened?” he’s missing time.  He defeated DBK, and then...then nothing.  There’s a feeling of coldness, at the thought, but the memories don’t come.

“I found you on the ground after the Bull Clones all sort of fell apart. I figured you passed out after trouncing DBK, so I picked you up and got you out of there.” Mei doesn’t seem concerned, but MK is, just a little.  He’s never passed out after using his powers; rather, using them often results in him getting an energy boost.  He thinks back on it, trying to remember any time this has happened before.  Macaque comes to mind but even then he wasn’t tired once his powers returned.

His ruminating on the ordeal is cut off by a bowl of noodles being shoved unceremoniously into his hands.  He blinks down at it, and then turns to Pigsy  

“Here, kid.  Eat. You look pale, and skinny as ever.  Can’t have my employee lookin’ half starved.” He smiles at Pigsy’s attempt to hide his soft side, picking up his chopsticks with a grin.

He eats, and the loud conversations of what they’d just accomplished arrests MK’s attention so that the questions about DBK, the cannisters, the voice that he swears he can hear in the back of his mind, fall away like sand in an hourglass, time never able to be reclaimed.

The sun finally vanishes and stars dot the sky like sequins on a gown.  MK curls in on himself, hunched over the bowl a little, missing the sun's rays and the finished soup’s warmth.

He shivers, but there’s no breeze.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

The bonus of living in such a technologically advanced age is that city reconstruction is pretty fast. Hospitals are rebuilt first, people are brought in en masse. MK spends his time volunteering there, because noodle shops are low on the list of things to be rebuilt and he needs to be useful.

MK tries not to be too guilty about the wreckage, though most of it had occurred because he was late to stop DBK. He'd been kept at Flower Fruit Mountain for a few weeks because Monkey King was worried after the incident with Macaque. Wanted to be sure MK's training ethic wasn't too messed up, wanted to be certain Macaque hadn't left any lasting effects or impressions.

It was a punishment, MK knows, for being a two timing student and for making Monkey King have to deal with a demon enemy when he’s made it clear that he’s retired. Doesn't matter that they only ever trained in the morning and early afternoon, then spent the rest of the day hanging out. MK has watched Monkey King: The Animated Series fifty-three times now, most recently with Monkey King during the duration of his solitary confinement at Flower Fruit Mountain. They'd both piped up with commentary, MK about the production and animation, and Monkey King about the inaccuracies that MK filed away for his sketchbook.

But even so, it was a punishment for MK’s failings. Why else would Monkey King keep MK close, keep him away from his family and friends, keep MK away from the outside world?

It takes two and a half weeks after the battle with DBK for MK to go back to work delivering noodles. He'll sometimes buy extra and drop it off at a random hospital nearby, for the medical staff. They're overworked because of him, because he was away for so long.

He has to be better next time. He doesn't know when DBK will be back, doesn’t know how to sense him. Is he able to do that? Can he learn to sense when his enemies are nearby? That would solve a lot of problems, near rid him of worry. Maybe Monkey King knows?

That thought has him swinging by Flower Fruit Mountain on the weekend, with a promise to Pigsy to be home before midnight.  MK is an adult only by age, after all; Pigsy still treats him like the 16 year old he found half dead outside his shop.

When he steps onto the mountain’s sand, though, he feels unwelcome.

The mystic energy that had beckoned him in the first time he’d arrived has shut its doors, like a silent way of saying 

Leave. 

Not a single monkey comes to greet him, but he can see their eyes, hidden in the trees. They regard him with suspicion. He frowns at them in confusion.

He hears a hiss in the back of his head and winces at the ensuing headache, stepping forward in hopes of pushing past the pain. Every step he takes makes the pounding in his head louder and more painful, and MK closes his eyes and focuses, reaching for the well of power he knows he has, the power that makes the staff feel lighter than air. 

It’s like sticking his hand through a well of ice, and his wrist is paralyzed by the time his fingers brush that warmth, the light curling around his palm.  Gold sparkles in his vision, and the unwelcome air starts to recede, as if the island recognizes him again.  He heads in deeper, and lets out a breath as the headache ceases.

He doesn’t have to head in too deep, because Monkey King comes through the waterfall in a rare moment of MK’s mentor leaving the inner sanctum of the mountain.  The waterfall itself moves like a curtain out of Monkey King’s way and the sight has MK focusing on that rather than the expression on Monkey King’s face, until he looks up.  

Monkey King’s eyes are sharp, darting around, an expression MK only recognizes from the suspicion and distrust Monkey King gave Macaque.  MK fidgets beneath that gaze, though it isn’t directed at him, uncomfortable.  He hasn’t done anything wrong, has he?  He wracks his brain for any new missteps, but finds very little.  Still, his anxiety skyrockets by the second. 

The look vanishes, though not completely, when Monkey King’s eyes catch on the sight of MK.

“Hey bud!  Impromptu visit?” Monkey King greets.

MK tries not to shy away from the air of suspicion that colors Monkey King’s tone.  Is MK really that untrustworthy? He did mess up badly by trusting Macaque, and Monkey King is right to distrust him.  He bites his lip and tries to ignore the swell of guilt that sets like a stone in his stomach at the memory.

“Yeah, just-uh-just wanted to train, y’know?  Don’t know when DBK is coming back.” He shrugs, and Monkey King nods, only half listening.

He still looks on edge. “Cool.  You uh...you bring anyone with you?” 

Now that’s concerning. MK scrambles to find a supposed intruder, hands gripping his staff tight in preparation for battle. “No?  Unless-Oh no, is there someone here?  Is it a demon guy?”  What if he led a bad guy here?  What if he messed up again?

He jumps as a monkey lands on his head, picking through MK’s hair in typical grooming fashion, and then Monkey King laughs, loud and almost relieved.  MK turns back around to face him.

“Nah, must be my nerves.  Maybe DBK left something on you, messed with my senses.” Monkey King waves a hand, nonchalant, and MK perks up in ease at the reminder.

“Oh!  That’s actually why I’m here!” He takes careful steps forward, trying not to jostle the monkey on his head.  “I was thinking-I didn’t know DBK was in the city and destroying stuff, and a lot of people got hurt.  But!  If I could sense him, like you can, I could stop him quicker!  Right?” He’s bouncing on his toes, nervous and excited all at once, and Monkey King smiles down at him fondly.  

“Sure, why not?  If you’re up for some meditation, that is,” Monkey King turns, waving at MK to follow. 

The monkey on MK’s head hops away, and MK sprints after his mentor with a wide grin.  “Totally!  I’m, like, the best at meditation.  I’m like a meditation wizard!”

Monkey King laughs all the way to the training grounds.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Training actually is easier than he expects.  MK blusters a lot, but he isn’t dumb or unaware of his limits.  Sitting still isn’t his strong suit, so sitting still while not being able to talk, tap, fidget, or do anything else other than think is basically torture.

But, when he gets into the meditative position with Monkey King, something clicks.  A cool blanket settles on his shoulders, eases out the desire to move.  It’s so easy to be still, and quiet.

Frozen.

“You weren’t kidding,” Monkey King tells him, and MK grins a little, face warmed by the praise.  “Now, when you’re like this, you have to let every other sound and feeling fade out.  Nothing else matters but the energies around you.  Mine’s pretty easy to see cause, yknow,” 

MK can practically see Monkey King scratching his chin and grinning with barely hidden pride.  “I’m a pretty powerful guy.  DBK would be similar, he’s got a pretty loud aura too.  Now, just try it, kay?”

MK nods, and takes a deep breath.  The sounds around him-bugs, monkeys jumping around and talking to one another, the wind, the ever present sound of something in his head—those all start to fade away.

Wait, what was that last one?

He lets them all go, and then forgets the feeling of the cold, the grass, the fabric touching his skin.  Nothing exists except his own mind, and then.

He gets to see the bright light that is Monkey King.  Golden and red and royal in its feel, it’s near blinding.  He has to blink a few times to get used to its light.

“Woah,” he murmurs, and Monkey King opens one eye, before blinking both in surprise.

“Woah, already?  You sure you haven’t done this before?” Monkey King crosses his arms over his chest, almost offended, and MK is reminded of how betrayed Monkey King looked when MK had shown off the skills he’d learned from Macaque.

“Nope!  Maybe defeating DBK gave me a confidence boost?”  He shrugs, and then stands, looking around.  Monkey King’s expression sits in the back of his mind, and MK bites his lip.  “Did I, uh, did I do something wrong?  I didn’t…,” he trials off, worried.

“Maybe,” Monkey King mumbles in response to his first reply, mostly to himself.  “Oh-no, no, you’re fine, bud.  I think I’m just a little paranoid,” he laughs it off.  MK is too busy glancing back towards town to process Monkey King’s pensive expression.

“I can see Mei!  She’s...very green.  Did she always have a dragon?” It’s curled around her, like a protective barrier, snarling and poised to strike.

Monkey King chuckles. “You’ve got yourself some powerful friends, kid.  Not surprising.  Like knows like, even when they don’t know what like is.” He puts a hand on MK’s shoulder, and then starts.  “You’re freezing.  It’s not that cold, is it?”

MK blinks a few times, and everything comes back, the colors and sounds and feelings of the world returning to normal.  Monkey King keeps looking at him, as if MK is a puzzle he’s yet to solve.

“I don’t know, maybe?  I’ve been feeling a bit chilly, lately.  Maybe I’m coming down with something?” He’s been a bit stressed out, between Macaque and DBK and the reconstruction, and he’s heard stress can cause illnesses.

Monkey King sighs, after a moment, and scratches his head.

“I think I’m becoming an adult,” he says, like it’s a crime, and he shrugs again.  “You’re probably fine.  Just, take it easy the next few days, alright?  Practice meditating at home, or when you’re on the job.  When you’re as good as me, you can turn it on whenever you need to,” Monkey King puffs up with pride, and his tail swings back and forth leisurely.  MK watches his tail more than he listens to what Monkey King is saying.

“Okay.  Anything else for today?” It’s only been an hour or two, they have plenty of time.  

Monkey King deliberates.  Then, he grins, stepping back to position for MK’s inevitable first attack. “Tell you what.  We’ll spar for a bit, and then you can bring up that new show you kept ranting about a few weeks ago.  Kay?” 

MK’s eyes sparkle.

“Heck yeah!”

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

MK’s muscles aren’t sore when he gets home.  He actually lasted a couple minutes sparring this time around, and Monkey King had rewarded him with peach chips and an arm around MK’s shoulder as he eagerly pulled up the show he had dove into during his free time on the TV.

Pigsy sent him upstairs with a bowl of noodles and a stern reminder to sleep early so he wouldn’t be late for work. He finishes the noodles in record time and, once he has showered and put on his warmest pajamas, pulls out all of the blankets he can find.  He just wants to be warm, just a little, even though it doesn’t make sense that he’s feeling this cold.  He’s not tired, he doesn’t feel achy, his sinuses are clogged—none of the other symptoms of being sick are popping up, so why is he so cold?!

He’s practically buried in blankets by the time he feels comfortable enough to rest.  For the first time in a long while, he doesn’t dream.

Things go back to normal, somewhat.  There’s a niggling something in the back of his head, and there’s guilt and the ever present chill that has MK wearing long sleeved shirts, but otherwise MK falls back into his typical routine, which is nice.  He missed his friends, between Macaque and DBK and training.  It’s good to see them again.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

The first time he starts hearing the voice in his head, he’s getting yelled at by Pigsy.

It doesn’t happen as often, anymore.  MK is scatterbrained, but he genuinely tries to do his best at work.  Sometimes, he gets mixed up, because he’s only one kid and he’s never been good at focusing, no matter how hard he tries.  It’s hard for his stressed out and ADHD ridden brain to remember whose order is whose, especially when it’s the dinner rush and he’s running behind.

Today was a particularly bad day.  He’d accidentally given a customer an order with peanut oil in it, when they had an order specifically without peanuts due to their severe allergy.  Pigsy had gotten a very angry phone call, and he passed that rage at MK, rightfully so. 

MK can only apologize so much, so eventually he quiets and lets Pigsy let off steam.  Luckily the customer hadn’t tried to sue, but MK knows the review Pigsy likely got was scathing.  He deserves a bit of a tongue lashing for that, he thinks.

It was an honest mistake.  Cruel, to yell at one so young.  Why is he so mean?

The voice in the back of his head, new and different, nearly makes MK jump.  Pigsy notices the change in MK’s expression and mistakes it for fear, and that gets him to quiet down.  He dismisses MK with a sigh and a wave of his hand, and MK heads upstairs, feeling guilty and confused.

 That voice….it didn’t sound like him, did it?  When he tries to recall the sound, it mirrors his internal voice, but in the moment it seemed different.

 It’s probably nothing.  After all, if something was wrong with him, wouldn’t someone else have noticed by now? Wouldn’t he have noticed by now?

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

The voice keeps popping up at random intervals, random moments.  When Mei gets annoyed at his ramblings.  When Tang pushes him away when he’s begging for a story, because Tang is busy eating.  When Pigsy yells at him for being late for work, for messing up.  When Sandy awkwardly pushes him to leave because MK can’t take a hint, some days.  When Monkey King looks at him with something akin to disappointment, exasperation.

They’re tired of you.  They want you gone.  They’re plotting against you.  They’re going to betray you!

And, see, that would bother MK if he didn’t already know that.  He knows people don’t like him, find him annoying.  He knows he pushes too much, messes up a lot, misses social cues.  He knows that he’s not a good enough successor.  And that just makes him want to do better.  

As for the whole betrayal thing, plotting against him, it makes sense.  He isn’t offended or anything if they are, in fact he’d be more surprised if they weren’t, you know?  He’s the Monkey King’s successor.  He has all of the powers, has all of the strength and invincibility, with a caveat or two, but he’s also still just a teenager.  If they aren’t worried that he could go rogue, mess up and decide to be selfish, then that’s stupidity on their part.  Trusting him with anything is never a good idea, so knowing that, should he mess up, his family will be able to enact swift justice is a comfort rather than a worry.

And yeah, it’s a bit embarrassing, knowing just how annoying and useless he can be.  He flinches more often at their glares, gets quieter.  He doesn’t want to make them mad at him, he doesn’t want to lose them because he isn’t good enough.  He just needs to focus, be better, help out more often.  If he does that, hopefully they won’t leave.

The voice, after a few months or so, had backed off for a week.  He’d felt a weight lift from his shoulders, and smiling was easier.  Pigsy had seemingly relaxed at his good mood, and Mei seemed cheerier when they’d gone out to the arcades.  He hadn’t realized he’d been worrying them.  

Are you so sure they’ll stay?

A single phrase that pulls the rug out beneath MK’s feet.  He knows he isn’t good enough, but everyone knows that he at least tries, right?  That should endear them to him enough for him to prove he’s worth their time, right?  He can be good enough, he can do better, he just needs time!

Not fast enough.  They’ll get tired of you, and then they’ll leave.

The cold feeling in his chest feels so much heavier, as he panics in his room.  He’s supposed to be asleep, but the blankets don’t do much anymore.  He’s losing feeling in his fingers.  He keeps fumbling with things, even the staff, and everyone is getting annoyed at him.  And he’s so tired, all the time, and yet it’s so hard to sleep.  He doesn’t understand what’s happening to him, but he knows that whatever it is, it’s going to ruin the equilibrium he has between being a failure and being good enough to keep around.

What happens when he loses it all?

You can be better.

Can he?

Wouldn’t everyone love you if they were safe?

Well, he can imagine not having to worry about DBK would make them far less stressed out.  If he can do that, then maybe they won’t get so easily annoyed at him.  He knows stress can make people snappy, and there’s a lot to be stressed about, like the economy and death by demons.

You can make them safe.

How?  

Listen to me. 

And MK knows it’s weird to make a pact with your own mind, but he thinks he’s pretty good at following directions, so he nods, and doesn’t sleep at all.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

The plan isn’t an easy one, and MK doesn’t know if he really wants to follow it.  The words turn over and over in his head. He doesn’t know if they’re right or not.

Maybe it would be better, if he wasn’t so nice.  He beats the bad guys, sure, but he isn’t that violent with them.  They try to kill him, but it’s never personal.  He’s the successor to Monkey King, it just makes sense that they’d go after him.  He’s not upset, really!

Even though the calabash has him looking over his shoulder.  They have earthquakes a lot, they live near a ring of active volcanoes, and each one puts him on edge, expecting a lie to turn his whole world apart. And the spider lady tried to eat his friends, tried to kill him.  And Macaque nearly hurt Monkey King because MK let him get close.  And DBK and Princess Iron Fan won’t stop, not until they get revenge or something.

Red Son is...he’s MK’s age.  And MK has noticed just how much DBK and Princess Iron Fan belittle Red Son, and he’s their son.  It’s too familiar for MK’s liking, and it makes the desire to bring Red Son to justice lessen.  Maybe, if he got Red Son’s parents out of the way…

You could have anything you wanted.

All MK wants is for his friends and family to be happy.

This is how you’ll do it.

MK doesn’t give in.  Not yet.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

MK considers it when he goes over to see Sandy, one afternoon.  They’re just doing some leisurely painting practice, nothing like painting the whole boat.  After the whole clones thing, Sandy had learned that he should probably figure out which color he wants to stick with in the long run before asking for help in such a task.  So, he asks MK to come over and brainstorm.  You know, sketch out some ideas, test paint samples on different areas of the boat, see how it looks in light and dark.

MK also helps with the many litter boxes around the ship, as well as top up the water and food bowls all around.  He gets appreciative nuzzles from the myriad cats around the barge, so it isn’t so bad.  Then, he and Sandy will have tea, and Sandy will listen to MK ramble on about anything and everything until either Monkey King or Pigsy or Mei calls him to go do something (he gave Monkey King his number.  Occasionally he will get an incomprehensible text.  He’s pretty sure Monkey King has a Nokia phone).

Today, when they’re having tea, MK considers.

“Hey, Sandy?” He starts, more hesitant than when he’s ever asked the man a question before. 

Sandy notices, and MK sees him soften his pose even more, looking warm and welcoming. “Yeah, MK?”

“Do you think I’m too soft on villains?”

Because he beats them, but he always lets them leave, lets them escape.  They get to heal, recoup, and come back stronger every time, and people get hurt.  MK doesn’t want to be the type to attack first, to never ask questions, but at this point there aren’t too many questions to ask.

“You’ve got a good heart, MK.  You don’t have it in ya to go at ‘em too hard,” MK clenches his fist, his other hand gentle against the teacup lest he break it.  He did that a few times when he first got his powers, unused to the extra strength.

“That kinda doesn’t answer my question,” MK tries not to say it through gritted teeth.  He can feel his tea getting frigid, and bites back the burst of white air that would make Sandy ask questions.

He wouldn’t know how to answer questions about that, which is why he can’t deal with them.  That’s the reason.

He’s saying you’re weak.

MK hides a grimace, and lets his heart ache silently.  He sips the tea.  It’s ice cold.

“What brought this on?” Sandy asks, instead of answering the question, which grates on MK’s nerves more than it should.

“I let DBK get too powerful,” he says.  “He destroyed the city again, and people got hurt.  If I’d just got rid of him before, those people would be okay.”

Sandy sighs, taking a sip of his tea.  A cat hops into MK’s lap, curling up, but after a few frigid moments hops away.  Apparently MK is too cold for its liking.  He tries not to get offended by that, but the hot well of shame and longing persists. At least the feeling is warm.

“MK, you’re still learning.  Mistakes are bound to happen.  Those who got hurt will get better, and the city is rebuilt better than ever!  You don’t have to carry everything on your shoulders.  And,” Sandy looks away, and suddenly he looks a lot older than MK thinks he is.  “Honestly, being too harsh to make an enemy stop can feel good in the moment, but it does more harm than good, especially to the person who does the fighting.”

And MK leaves it at that, but thinks he doesn’t mind if it harms him, if it keeps everyone else safe.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

“Another story!” MK begs, spinning on the barstool.  Pigsy always tells him not to, something about wearing down the seat joint, but at the same time Pigsy never really stops MK when he does it either, because MK only does it when he’s very excited and hyper.

Tang finishes his bowl of noodles with a chuckle, pushing up his glasses on the bridge of his nose in a practiced motion that MK is oh so familiar with.  MK taps the front of his sketchbook with his pencil impatiently.

“Alright, alright.  Tell you what, I’ll tell you the story of the Baigujing, or White Bone Spirit,” Tang’s voice falls into storyteller mode, and MK is immediately entranced.  Pigsy, from the kitchen, slams down a pan and groans.

“Not that one, Tang.  I hate that one, you know that,” MK turns to his boss and is surprised to see an embarrassed flush on his cheeks.  What in this story would Pigsy have to be embarrassed about?

“Hey, MK wants to know all the Monkey King stories.  I’m not going to rob him of knowledge,” Tang argues back.  He leans close to MK and whispers “Pigsy couldn’t sleep for a week after I told him this one.”

“That is not true!” Pigsy barks, indignant, and MK laughs.

Tang chuckles to himself, and Pigsy turns back to his work with a grumble.  Right now is a lull in business, right after the lunch rush and before early dinners get called in, so MK is taking his break and Pigsy isn’t too upset by it.  It’s just enough time for a story.

“Okay.  The Baigujing was a shapeshifting demon, who saw Monkey King and his group of traveling companions as they passed by.  Her eyes caught on the human monk, Tang Sanzang,” MK perks up.

“Hey, that’s like your name!” he points out, and both Tang and Pigsy look startled.  Tang coughs, awkward.

“Yes-well-uh, it’s a family name,” he amends quickly.  MK tilts his head to the side.  “Anyway, she decided she wanted to taste the monk’s flesh.  So, she disguised herself as a little girl, coming up to the group and offering them poisoned fruits.  Because she was so powerful, only Monkey King could sense her treachery, and he hit her with his staff, seemingly killing her.”

MK gasps, doesn’t understand the fury that builds behind his eyes.

Tang glances at him, for a moment, and then jumps.

“MK?  You okay?” He asks, and MK blinks.

“What-yeah!  What happened next?” Tang looks him over, gaze catching on MK’s eyes, before he sighs and continues.

“The Monkey King’s companions were shocked and appalled.  They thought he had killed an innocent girl!  He tried to explain, but they didn’t believe him.  The Monk buried the girl, who turned back into the spirit.  She tried again, once as the supposed mother of the little girl, and then the grandfather.  Monkey King managed to show her as a skeleton spirit during their last encounter, clearing his name, but then his companion, Bajie, told Sanzang that Monkey King made it up.  Thus, Monkey King was abandoned, at least until the Monk was captured by a demon Wujing and Baijie couldn’t defeat, and Bajie had to apologize to bring him back,” Tang finishes, and MK’s face settles into a pout.

“Bajie’s a jerk!” He crosses his arms.

“He apologized,” Pigsy mumbles, from his place in the kitchen, where he slices scallions violently.  “More than once.  Not that it matters.” 

“Monkey King didn’t exactly endear himself to his peers,” Tang amends.  “Perhaps if he had been less full of himself at the time, they all could have gotten along better.  But, all four grew to be better people by the end of their journey.”

MK finishes a sketch of the scenes Tang had described with a flourish, and he tilts his head to one side.  “Kind of rude to just attack the lady, though, couldn’t he have tried to talk it out?” He doesn’t know why he feels the need to defend the demon, but she doesn’t seem too bad.  

Tang makes a face.

“She wanted to eat a person, MK,” he says, and MK makes a face that mirror’s Tang’s expression.

“Right.  Eugh, gross.  Anyway, thanks Mr. Tang!” he hops off the barstool and puts back on his collared shirt, making sure his headband doesn’t slip down.  “Any orders, Pigsy?”

Pigsy jerks his thumb to the few on the counter.  MK picks them up, and continues on to work, the story sitting in the back of his mind.  He stumbles a bit while walking.  He doesn’t feel the key in his hand, his fingers numbed over time.  He should be concerned, but everything else seems fine.

He kind of wishes he could have met the Baigujing.  She doesn’t seem too bad, besides the people eating.  Maybe they could have worked it out.

Who does Sun Wukong think he is, deciding to serve justice anyway he sees fit?

MK frowns and buttons up his shirt.  His chest feels like ice.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

He’s so, so tired.

MK looks at himself in the mirror when he wakes up and his skin looks paler, his lips a little blue.  He has bags under his eyes that vanish by the time he leaves the bathroom, a bottle of concealer and a tube of lipstick on the bathroom sink that he doesn’t remember buying.

His memory’s been growing spottier, too, missing minutes, hours.  Mei talks to him about a high score he beat at the arcade and he nods along, no clue what she’s talking about but not wanting to worry her.  He hasn’t gone to see Sandy in what feels like years, but gets a text from him thanking MK for taking care of the cats one afternoon.  There are sketches in his sketchbook he doesn’t remember drawing, from stories Tang told him that he can’t remember hearing.

He’s lost feeling in his hands and feet.  He’s dropped enough bowls of soup for Pigsy to go from mad to worried, and he shoves MK off to Flower Fruit Mountain because it’s warmer there, and MK always looks cold.  

He stumbles when he hits sand, nearly bowls over with how much the island rejects him, how much it wants him not to be there.  This is supposed to be a safe place, but the sand feels like needles and the wind slices at his face.  Monkey King comes rushing out like a bat out of hell, teeth bared, but he sees MK, kneeling on the beach, and runs over.

“You okay, bud?  You look…,” he doesn’t say awful, but MK knows he’s thinking it.  MK looks awful, feels awful, is awful.  And the solution to that is right there, waiting for him, but he doesn’t want to take it because he’s a coward.  The voice in his head gave him an ironclad idea, a perfect plan, and he’s been ignoring it because he’s scared.

Weak little vessel.

The hiss in his ear makes him wince, and he trembles as Monkey King helps him up.

“Tired,” he manages, leaning against Monkey King because he hardly has the strength to stand.  

“I can see that.” The try at levity has MK chuckling, but Monkey King is soft and warm and all MK wants to do is suck that warmth into himself, so he can stop being cold for one second.  “Why don’t we head to my place and watch something.  There’s always my show, right?”

MK nods, blinking slowly, and Monkey King takes a step forward.  Suddenly, they’re at Monkey King’s house.  When did they get there?  Why are they here again?

He’s set on the couch.

“There’s something off about your aura, kid.  Touch anything mystic or weird back at home?” Monkey King runs his fingers through MK’s hair, and MK leans into the touch.  Warm.  Safe.  

He shakes his head, a full minute after the question is asked.  Monkey King hums in thought.

“How do you even see auras?” MK mumbles, words slurring a bit as he talks.  “Teach me?”

Monkey King’s hand stills, and MK whines a little, prompting his mentor to continue the motions.

“I already have, bud,” Monkey King whispers, more to himself than to MK.  MK blinks in confusion.  He doesn’t remember that.

Rest, Vessel.

The voice whispers so sweetly in his ear.  It’s nice, sometimes.  Mean other times.  MK wonders if that’s his fault.  Is he so bad that even his own head is mad at him?  How can he be better?  He’s trying so hard.

The TV is turned on.  MK doesn’t register the sound, but the light makes him turn his head away.  Monkey King turns down the brightness with his remote.  Another monkey rests on top of MK for a moment, before jumping off.  It shivers at the temperature of MK’s jacket, his skin, and moves over to Monkey King’s shoulder.

MK rests his head on Monkey King’s lap, and closes his eyes.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

He wakes up in a dream.  He stands on ice.  Each step he takes is careful, lest he slip, and even still he stumbles and fumbles.  He can see something in the distance.

“Hello?” he calls out, but the person doesn’t answer.  The closer he gets, the more he can make them out.  “Mei?”

It is her, but then her head drops, straight off of her neck.

“NO!” MK screams, running to her, and he stumbles and falls.  His knees hit ice and they burn with the chill that sinks through his pants.  He slides to her body, cradling it and her head as if he could put her back together with hope.

He turns, looking for a reason for this, and when he looks up, all of the adults in his life are standing around him, their faces covered in shadow.  Tang, Pigsy, Sandy, Monkey King—they’re all looking down on him.

“Look what you let happen,” Pigsy growls out.

“She’s dead,” Tang continues.

“You didn’t save her,” Sandy drones on.

“You let her die,” Monkey King spits.

“No…” MK breathes, and the tears build in his eyes and down his cheeks, freezing on his face.  It burns.

You have a choice, vessel.

The figures of his friends vanish into mist, and MK curls his arms around himself.  He misses the contact.  He hates to be alone.

A woman wreathed in white kneels down in front of him.  It hurts to look at her, and MK averts his gaze until she tilts up his chin so he can look nowhere else.  Her face is ice cold, yet inviting.  He can’t look away from her eyes.

Don’t you want them to stay?  Don’t you want them to be safe?

MK nods, quickly.  Of course that’s what he wants.  More than anything, he wants that love, that adoration.  He wants his family to be safe, to never leave.

You know what to do.

It feels like ice is creeping up his skin, encasing him in frigidity.  She holds out his hand, and he can do nothing else but take it.  The cold reaches its peak, and suddenly it’s warm.  It burns, and yet the warmth is inviting, a relief after months of being so, so cold and confused and tired.  He is past the point of cold, of freezing, of sub zero.  He is warm.  He is ready.  

He is hers.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

He wakes up well rested, and the cold that had settled into him still feels like the burn that is a welcome respite from before.  Monkey King is still asleep, and MK leaves him there, leaving the house and walking slowly out of the inner mountain.  

He leaves footprints of ice where he steps.  The monkeys watch, from the trees, trembling as their eyes gaze upon something inhuman, sitting in MK’s skin.  MK has never felt better.  He knows what to do now.  He knows how to make things right.

The staff in his hands feels heavier, for a moment, but MK grips it tight and bends it to his will.  He pogos out of the island with ease, letting the wind whip his hair back.

He hasn’t blinked in a while.  He forgot he had to.  He blinks because the wind makes his eyes sting, and touches the ground with a gentleness he didn’t know he could master.

He lets his eyes glow gold, searching.  He remembers, now, how to look at auras.  He remembers a lot of things now.  It’s like the pressing weight of being weak for the sake of niceties has vanished, and now he is sharp and ready.

The only question is which of his enemies does he go after first?  He needs to get all of them, keep them secure.  It’s the only way the town, the city, will be safe.

The small fry first.  We’ll work our way up to the demon king.

Right, that makes sense.  MK grins to himself.  It’s so nice to have someone constantly helping, constantly making sure he’s doing the right thing.  He’s useless on his own, but give him a direction and he’ll follow it to the letter.

He can see gold and silver, in the distance.  He forgets their names, at first, but their auras jog his memory.  Yin and Jin.

They put him in the calabash.  They weren’t good at it, but they were good enough.  They’re demons.  Dangerous.  He needs to make sure they don’t hurt anyone else.  

He heads to their home, not in a hurry.  There’s no rush to the inevitable.  Is this what self confidence is?  The feeling of knowing you can do it, that you will do it, that no one can stop you?  It feels very gratifying.  He lets the glow in his eyes vanish, because he doesn’t want to startle everyone around him.  

His phone buzzes.  A text from Pigsy, demanding to know where he is.  He responds with ‘Dealing with Monkie Kid stuff.  Be back soon!’ and a string of emojis that Pigsy will find incomprehensible, before continuing on his trek.

He reaches the door, and hears a conversation.

“So, our plan has three steps.  That’s an improvement,” Yin seems to be pacing, from what MK can hear.

“Step one, capture the monkie kid,” Jin pipes up, and MK fights back a laugh.  “Step two, take the staff from him.” 

As if they could.  MK almost has to admire their tenacity.

“Step three, take over the world!” Yin finishes, and MK takes that as his cue to step in.

He knocks in the door.  Polite.  He still has manners, after all.

“Huh?  Jin, did you order out for dinner again?” Yin barks out.

“We don’t have the money for that!” Is the response.

“Hasn’t stopped you before,” Yin grumbles, moving to the door.

Here they come!

MK counts the steps Yin takes to the door, itching with anticipation.

“Hello?” Yin opens the door, and then jumps in surprise.

“Hi!” MK waves, and taps his staff on the ground.

There’s a thunk; not a thud of a body, but a thunk of a block of ice.  MK pats the statue with a fond look.  He’ll chip away the extra pieces later.  This is his first attempt, it’s normal for it to be less precise.  He can get better at it with practice.  Jin turns, from his place at the desk, and his eyes widen when he sees his brother, frozen on the floor.

“Yin—what did you do?” Red eyes glow dangerously, and MK wonders if they would be more ferocious if he threatened one over the other.  Jin gets up, teeth bared.

“This,” MK replies, tapping his staff on the ground.

Jin takes a step forward and freezes in place. Or, is frozen, MK supposes.  He looks at the brothers, safely imprisoned, and wonders.  Where is he going to put them?  There’s not enough room here for all of his enemies to be placed.  What’s a good place to set everything up?

The cave?  The old villain hideout?  

That’s perfect!  After all, it would be the funniest form of irony, right?  Turning a villain hideout to his base for his world saving plan.  Gosh, he’s so smart.  Because this is him, all him.  He finally is smart enough to know what to do.  He has to clear out the cave, first.  It’s not far away, hidden beneath the sewers.  There’s a path to it from the area where the staff used to lie.

He sets Yin and Jin next to each other, considering their poses.  He thinks they look a little off, but he can fix that, right?  He can fix anything, given enough time.  That’s what all this is, fixing the problem of demons who’ve escaped because of DBK’s release.  He nods to himself, and heads off.  He has rocks to clear out, he has a cave to excavate.

But, he promised Pigsy that he’d be back soon.  That stops him short.  He can’t skip work!

This will make him far happier in the long run.

Still, what’s a few hours of work to make Pigsy happy now?  He shakes off the one track mind and puts his staff away.  The ice won’t melt fast (or at all) and he’s got time.  The flash of cold he gets in response to that thought doesn’t inspire comfort, and he second guesses himself a few times, but he heads to the shop anyway.

“Hey Pigsy!” he waves, and Pigsy glances at him and jerks a thumb over to the pile of orders on the counter.  “On it!” 

MK swoops them up and sets them all on the delivery cart.  Pigsy glances at him again, and then freezes.

“MK?” he asks.

MK turns, blinking a few times.  “Yeah?” he responds, and Pigsy peers at him, almost suspicious.

MK tilts his head to the side in confusion.  A part of him is glad that he has concealer on, because they don’t have the time to chat about MK’s new skin tone, not with all these orders.  He watches Pigsy shiver, muttering something about the A/C acting up, before Pigsy shakes himself off and sets his hands on his hips.

“I thought-your eyes-nevermind.  Get those orders out!” Pigsy barks, and MK stands at attention, giving Pigsy a salute.

“On it!” He promises, sliding out of the shop and hopping onto the delivery cart.

It only takes an hour, which is much faster than he usually is, but focus comes easy when he’s driven.  The faster he gets this done they faster he gets to get back to his real work.  The work that will make things better for everyone.

Right. Of course.

His shift ends when the store closes, and he’s gone before Pigsy can say anything about his work ethic or ask where MK has been or is going.  He rushes to the construction site, dives below, rushing past the decaying plants where there once were flowers and a growing tree.  Without Monkey King’s staff, there’s nothing making sure the plants live.  MK frowns at the sight but stays focused on the task at hand.

Aim.  The staff can be as large as a mountain if it needs to be.  Crush what’s in your way.

He nods to himself, breaking through the rubble that has blocked off the tunnel.  The ground shakes, the whole underground rumbles with power, and he hopes he’s not keeping anyone up.  Then again, it’s not too bad if it’s just for a night, considering how many nights later he’s going to keep quiet.  Everyone will be able to rest easy once he’s done.  

He huffs a breath, and it comes out white.  He should be concerned, but honestly it looks cool.  He remembers to blink, because his eyes are starting to burn.  He doesn’t know why he keeps forgetting.

He makes his way to the cavern, and uses ice to keep the ceiling up.  Pillars rise, frost fills the spaces between rocks that would have cracked and splintered eventually.  The floor remains untouched, save for when he fills in the cracks that could trip someone up.

He doesn’t remember when he got these ice powers.  They seem new?  Why hasn’t he used them before?  How come Monkey King never told him about them?

Monkey King’s always had ice powers.

Has he?  MK isn’t so sure about that.

You’re his successor, not a carbon copy.  It makes sense you would have different powers than him.

Right.  MK nods to himself.  Now, time to get Yin and Jin!  Carrying them is going to be a challenge.

It takes him an hour to get them both there, and another half hour to figure out where to put them.  He has to consider DBK’s size.  Wait, does he have to go and get the spider demon lady?  He shivers at the thought, a deep well of terror sinking in his gut.  Even as self assured as he is now, spiders still terrify him.

I can take care of that.

Really?

Yes.  But first, rest.

Right.  He needs to head back to his house.  Pigsy will be worried if he doesn’t come home soon.  He heads out of the construction site, skipping all the way home.

He barely sleeps.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

The week is certainly a busy one.  MK spends any time not with his friends searching, and he spends far less time with his friends, nowadays.  The spider demon isn’t easy to find.  He does manage to get some small fry lesser demons he hadn’t met before and now never will.  He doesn’t need to meet people who will inevitably try to kill him and those around him.  Far better to prevent the attack than deal with the aftermath thereof.

His collection of ice sculptures is growing.  MK likes to spend time chipping away at the blocks to them more polished.  It’s like sketching, in a way, or cleaning up a sketch.  It also gives him an opportunity to practice a more precise use of his ice powers.  He can make a mean ice chisel now, and he’s learned how to force the limbs of those frozen into the position he likes.  Yin and Jin stand on top of each other, like they did in their introduction.  The expressions on their faces aren’t what he likes, but he can cover it with frost and it’s like it was never there.

He meets up with Mei, one afternoon.

“Hey, MK!” She barrels into him, and immediately jumps back.

He reaches out, missing the contact, but she shakes out a shiver.  “Dang, you’re cold!” She slugs him on the shoulder, and he laughs.

“I feel fine.  Maybe you’re just being dramatic,” he shoots back, and she laughs with him, before her eyes glance at his face and she freezes.  “What?”

“Your eyes,” she murmurs, all joking replaced with concern.  He tilts his head to a side in confusion.  “They’re blue?” She adds.

“Oh!” he says, and the words that come out of his mouth don’t sound like him at all.  He doesn’t think he thought of them, and he doesn’t feel his lips move but the sound comes out anyway.  “I’m trying out some contacts.  Do you like them?” He bats his eyelashes at her, all in jest.

Her confusion melts into a smile. “I like your regular eye color better,” She admits.  “But those look cool!”  

She grabs him by his wrist, using his jacket as a buffer, and drags him to an arcade.  Every machine he touches sticks a little, the joystick and button a tad frozen by his touch, and he doesn’t win a match by any means, but he doesn’t mind.  Every time Mei leans close to him it feels like a victory.  Even though he feels warm, at least a sort of freezer burn warmth, the people around him have pulled away.  He’s too cold for them.  

He needs contact.  

Someone trips Mei as they’re running around the arcade.  Her nose bleeds, and MK feels his hackles rising.  Someone hurt his friend.  A demon?  A scan of the area reveals no such thing.  Just a mean person.  He can hear them snickering as they walk away.

Mei is more important than MK’s anger, so he takes her outside and finds some tissues, cleans her up.  He takes her out to her favorite restaurant (not Pigsy’s, though they’ll never tell him that) and they end the night with a race around town.  Her bike is an electric green streak, and he’ll never catch up, but he gives it his all before they finish outside his place.

“See ya later!” Mei still sounds a bit stuffed up from the nosebleed, and MK waves until she’s out of sight.  When she disappears, his expression shutters, anger against her unrecognizable assailant returning in a flash.

He’s been getting rid of demons, but that’s not enough!  Mei still got hurt, because people are unpredictable.  He heads to his room and paces.  How can he fix it, how can he make it better?

Maybe more than demons should be frozen.

MK stops in his tracks.  Now, there’s an idea.  But to freeze them forever, that seems like too much.

Not forever.  Just until they know how to behave.  Think of it as a pause button.

It would be nice if things just stopped for a moment.  Then he could have all the time in the world to fix it.  Once he gets the demons out of the way, he can do that.  Then, once everyone learns to behave, they can come out.  However long that takes.

He can be patient, for his friends.  This is all for them, after all.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

A day after that, and he’s found the Spider Demon’s lair.  Every step he takes inside makes him shake, and he doesn’t think he’ll be able to take her.  He’s so nervous, so scared.

I can help, remember?  Just take a deep breath.

He takes a deep breath.

Close your eyes.

He closes his eyes.  

He doesn’t open them, but they open anyway.  Everything is washed in a soft layer of white, like frost, and his body moves but he doesn’t tell it to.  The fear he felt is muted, and he settles into the comfort of its absence.  He asked for this, right?

The spider demon—she wanted to be a Queen, right?  MK hadn’t been really paying attention when she went on her rant, too petrified to listen—skitters out, and when she locks eyes with him, she smiles.

“Aww, is the little monkie boy back to play?” She giggles, and MK’s body throws the staff at her.  She ducks with a yelp, and scrambles back.  “Ooo, we’re rough, now?  Seems you’re not so scared anymore,” She purrs, but he can hear the nervousness in her voice as the staff comes back to his hand.

“Iͥ ʷgͣˢoᶰtͤ ͮoͤvͬeˢrͨ ͣiͬtͤᵈ.” The sound comes out of his mouth, and it doesn’t sound much like MK at all.  Huh.  His body takes a step forward, and ice spreads out from beneath his foot.  “Tͭuͧrͬᶰnˢs ͦoͧuͭtʸ,ͦ ͧyˢoͪuͦ'ͧˡrͩe ͪnͣoͮtͤ ᵇtͤhͤᶰeʷ ͦsͬcͬaͥrͤiͩesͣᵇtͦ ͧdͭemͫoͤn ͥoͫuᶠtͬ ͤtͤhere.” 

The Spider Queen’s expression shifts, and she tries to run, but MK’s legs are faster. He watches himself move, jumping over stones and cliffs and any obstacle.  The webs she tries to trap him in freeze, and he slides across them as if his feet were skates.

Eventually, he corners her.  MK watches his body close in, and suddenly he’s back in control, staring her down.  Satisfaction crawls up his back, a cold grin splitting his face in two.

“ʷWͪhͦˢoˢ'ͨsͣ ͬsͤcͩaᶰrͦʷed now?” He grins, and she screams.

Ice, it turns out, is a great muffler.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Finding DBK’s hiding place is harder.  MK locates it just outside the city limits, in an abandoned scrapyard.  The perfect place to get parts for new bull clones and other random things Red Son can come up with.

He decides to go on the weekend, but as he prepares the night before Monkey King makes an appearance in his room.

“Hey, bud,” MK jumps at his arrival.

He must have been hiding as a bug or something, like when MK first found the staff.

“Monkey King!” He grins at his arrival, hopping up.  “What’s the occasion?  Is there something new you wanted to teach me?  Is there a demon we have to fight?”  We, not as in MK and Monkey King, but MK and himself.  Because he’s not one, not really, and that’s fun!  He hates being alone, after all.

“No, no,” Monkey King chuckles, overly fond.  Right, MK hasn’t been to Flower Fruit Mountain for a week.  “It’s just-you left pretty early, and, uh, you didn’t say anything about our next training sesh, you know?  And, uhh, pretty sure you shouldn’t be slacking off on that.”

The half hearted scolding aside, MK almost thinks that Monkey King missed him.  But that’s ridiculous.

“Well, you were sleeping when I got up, and I had to go to work,” The lie slips easily off of his tongue.  “I didn’t want to wake you, so I left!  Um, we’re busy tomorrow, but Sunday works for training, if that’s cool?” He rocks back and forth on his feet, ever excited.

“We’re?  Who’s cooler than me to hang out with?” Monkey King reaches out to ruffle his hair, and MK can feel the shiver that jolts through the monkey’s body at the touch.  Monkey King doesn’t comment on it, though.

“I promised Mei we’d hang out.  It’s been a busy week at the shop, so I haven’t been able to party with her,” He doesn’t know where these lies are coming from.

Sometimes he talks and it’s not him at all.  He should be concerned, but honestly he doesn’t mind if his other self takes the reigns.  He fumbles over his words way too often to be annoyed that someone is smoothing him out.

Polished like an ice sculpture; MK thinks he could be beautiful if he was like that.

“Alright, fine.  You and your friend can….do whatever it is kids do these days.  Am I an adult—oh my god I’m an adult,” Monkey King flops back onto his nimbus cloud with a groan while MK giggles.  

“Anyway, get some rest, bud.  You look tired,” is the last thing Monkey King says to him.

“On it!” MK salutes, and Monkey King floats through the window and then rockets off.  The papers in MK’s room all swirl from the blowback, and MK grabs one of the sketches that floats back down.

He doesn’t remember the last time he asked Tang for a story. The last time he sketched anything else at all.  But, a hero doesn’t need hobbies so trivial.

He plans.  Plans for how the city is going to look like, when he’s finished with it all.  He doesn’t need to write down the steps to get there, he has his head voice for that, but the city.  How it will look, when he’s done.  He has to figure it out, draw it out, and pin it to the wall so he can look at it every morning and evening and remember why he’s doing this.  So he sketches.  Pins the piece to the wall.  

Squints.  He doesn’t like it.  

Back to the drawing board.

His wall is covered by the time the sun rises, and MK still isn’t satisfied.  But there is no time to waste.  So, he picks up the outfit that feels all the more new—blue isn’t a color he expected to like, but blue is cold is safe is good is the burning warmth he needs, so he leaves the orange jacket and red headband hanging off of his desk chair.

Looking at himself in the mirror, he can barely tell the difference!

He is gone before Pigsy comes up with breakfast, before Pigsy calls for Tang to look at the mess MK left behind, enough drawings of the same thing for anyone to get the picture.  He is gone before Pigsy and Tang investigate, speak in hushed tones, and call for Sandy, Mei, and eventually Monkey King.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Getting to the outskirts of town is the easy part.  Infiltrating DBK’s base is a bit harder.  It’s not heavily fortified, but MK thinks that’s more because he has never tried to infiltrate such a place.  He doesn’t really attack first, he just protects.  But that’s not good enough anymore, clearly.  He can’t just be protective, he needs to be proactive.

He slides past the guards, freezes them for good measure.  After all, they’re going to be made useless once he takes their leader down, so it’s not as if he’s wasting anything.  There’s also always the chance they get wise, and MK doesn’t want his entrance ruined.

The inner sanctum of the base looks more like a house, made large to accommodate DBK’s figure.  There are pictures on the wall, from painted portraits to black and white to color photos.  MK supposes that the Demon Bull Family has been around long enough to have portraits taken in all sorts of mediums.  He wonders if they have statues, a shrine?  He bites back a giggle at the thought.

The booming sound of cloven footsteps alerts MK to DBK’s arrival, though by the sounds of two voices approaching, Princess Iron Fan must be with him.

“Red Son has been pulling away from us,” the gravel in DBK’s voice is soft, somehow.  MK listens in with interest.  What is it they are doing to their son now?

“You tried to kill him.  He can’t help but take it personally,” is Princess Iron Fan’s reply.  “He barely knows you, and he’s young.  He’ll grow out of it,” she waves a hand, unconcerned.

MK glares at them.  The temperature in the hallway drops, until Princess Iron Fan shivers.

“Darling, I thought this house had a heating function?” Princess Iron fan curls her arms around herself, and DBK picks her up and sets her on his shoulder, suddenly on guard.

“It does, the boy made it so,” he growls, sniffing around for intruders.  MK decides to let himself be known.

“Hi!” he says as he pops out from around the corner.

“Noodle boy?” Princess Iron Fan questions.

“Little Thief,” DBK growls.

“Actually, I go by MK,” he corrects cheerily.  “But, anyway, could you hold still?  This will be harder if you move,” He twirls his staff casually.  DBK growls, and Princess Iron Fan places a hand on the side of his face to silence him.

“MK,” Princess Iron Fan starts, with a forced air of politeness.  “We are in your debt for helping save my husband.  However, if you attack us, we will have no choice but to fight back, and we will not be kind.”

She grins, self assured, and continues  “And you know what happened the last time you tried to fight me.”

Fire.  Volcanoes.  She had tried to kill him and, more importantly, she had made his friends cry.  But things have changed, haven’t they?

MK giggles.  The sound echoes, and the hallway gets colder.  Frost crawls over the walls, and MK looks up with eyes that glow.

“Aͣcͨtͭuͧaͣˡlˡlʸy,ͥ Iͭ ͪtͥᶰhᵏiʸnͦkͧ ˢyͪoͦuͧˡ'ͩllͬ ͧᶰfiͥᶠnʸdͦ ͧmᵏeᶰ ͦʷtʷoͪ ͣbͭˢeᵍ ͦhͦaͩrᶠdͦeͬrʸ ͦtͧo ᶰbͦeͭatͭ ͪtͣhͭaʸnͦ ͧbeͨfͣᶰorͤˢeͨᵃᵖᵉ,” He jumps up with a smile, and sprints forward.

Something dawns on her face, and Princess Iron Fan stands.

“Darling, we need to run,” She says, quickly, but MK jumps and bounces off of the walls and is eye to eye with her before she can explain.

She doesn’t even have time to grab her fan.

DBK jumps back as the block of ice slides off his shoulder and he roars.

“Father?!” MK hears Red Son’s voice from afar and ignores that for now.

“I will tear you to pieces you ingrate!” DBK shouts, and MK laughs.

“ʸYͦoͧu ͨcͦoͧˡuͩᶰlͭdnͤ'ͮtͤᶰ ˢeͭvͦᵖenͫ ͤbʷeͪaͤᶰt ͥmʷeͣˢ wͥᶰhʸeͦnͧ ͬI ͪwͤaͣsͩnʸ'ͦtͧ ᶠtͦrͦˡying!” he shouts back, dodging a blow that sinks DBK’s fist in the wall.

The frost slides from the wall to DBK’s arm, gluing him there.  He fires the gun on his other arm, and MK dodges. 

“Nͥiͩcͥeͦ ͭshot!” He dances around the room.

DBK takes a step in the wrong direction, and slips on the ice cube that is his wife, dropping to the ground.  MK wastes no time, and DBK’s roar is silenced abruptly.

Finally.

Finally.

“Noodle Boy!  What on earth are you doing?!” Red Son looks rather steamed, if the smoke coming off of him is any indication.

“Hi, Red Son!  I was just taking care of your parents,” MK gestures to the popsicles on the floor.  Red Son stares, face a mixture of confusion and horror, and MK barrels toward him.  “Now they can’t be mean to you anymore.  You can make fun inventions and not have to be a mean guy all the time!” Honestly, if anything, Red Son should be thanking MK, but MK doesn’t do this for thanks.  He takes a few hairs and blows on them, and his clones start to work on moving the new additions to his cave.

“You—” Red Son is at a loss for words before landing on “Give me back my parents!”

See, MK was worried about that.  He would likely have responded the same, when he first left his parents.

“But I worked hard to get them out of the way!” MK pouts.  “But, I get it.  You don’t understand.  You just need to ᵍcͤoͭolͦ ͧdͭowͦᶠn,ͦ ͧoͬkʷaͣʸy?” MK reaches out, places a hand on Red Son’s shoulder before he can be stopped, and Red Son is going to freeze too, when—

Red Son explodes, and MK burns.

It’s not enough to melt the ice, no, but MK is thrown back against the wall, eyes wide.

The chill in his bones vanishes with a screech, and all he can hear is screaming.  For a moment, something rises within him.  

This is wrong.

He shouldn’t be doing this, he can’t be.

He isn’t a bad person, he isn’t cruel. He wouldn’t do this.  

He needs to stop, he needs to—

And then the flames vanish, and so does Red Son, and the cold slips back into place with brutal efficiency.  MK blinks, tries to remember where he is.  Right, DBK and Princess Iron Fan.  He got them!  Great.

His clones have been destroyed in the blaze, so he makes some new ones, and heads back to base.  

A shame he couldn’t get Red Son to understand, but they all will soon enough.

Good job, vessel.

MK feels warm.  It burns.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

He’s deliberating back at his hideout about where his newest statues should go when he hears a sharp gasp from behind him.  He turns, and Mei is looking at him with something that looks like horror, but that can’t be right.  Why would she be horrified by something so beautiful?

“MK?” she starts, cautiously.  “What…happened to you?  You look really bad, why are you wearing blue?”

“I like the color!” he asserts.  “And I’m fine!”

She purses her lips, and then tries again.

“Um...MK.  What is this?” She points to the frozen menagerie behind him.

MK does not pout, even though he feels like he should.

“You ruined the surprise,” he grumbles, arms crossed over his chest.  “I stopped all the bad guys!  See?” he gestures to them.  “Now they can’t hurt anyone.”

There’s a pause, before Mei can catch up, where MK asks, “Hey, do you think people would want to put them in a museum?” He taps his chin with his index finger, deliberating.

“How did you...does Monkey King have powers like this?” she tries, a third time.

“No, I don’t,” MK jumps at the sound of Monkey King’s voice.  Monkey King floats down on his cloud, hopping off and looking at MK with an air of suspicion.  “Kid, how are you doing this?  Why are you doing this?”

“‘Cause they hurt you guys,” MK has been itching for a chance to explain, to get someone to understand.  “And the-my head voice gave me the idea.  Once these guys are all gone, everyone can be safe, and no one will leave!”

“Head voice?” Pigsy comes from behind a pillar.  “MK, what are you talking about?”

“You know, the voice in your head that sounds like you?” He explains.  “It-it told me how to do it.  And I’m not a carbon copy of Monkey King, it makes sense that I’d have a few new powers, you know?”

“No,” Tang appears, from somewhere.

When did all of his friends get here?  He can see Sandy, Mo in tow on his shoulder, peeking in. 

“You shouldn’t have any deviations.  Maybe your transformations would be different, but to go so far as to have ice powers?” Tang pushes his glasses up on the bridge of his nose, and his glasses flash.  “That shouldn’t be possible, given Monkey King’s power set.”

“What’s going on, kid?” Sandy’s voice is very soft, as he approaches, just like when they were on the boat.  

“Nothing!” MK’s voice is cheery as ever.  “I’m just fixing things, okay?  I think you need to ˢcͪhͧiͭllͧᵖ ʷoͧʲuͥᶰtᵍ,” he reaches forward, and Sandy and Mo are ice.

Mei screams.

“What?” MK looks on, bewildered, as his friends stare at him in horror.  “He’ll be fine!  It doesn’t hurt.  I’ve been freezing for ages!  It gets warm after a while.”

His eyes glow, and Tang pales.

“Baigujing,” he breathes, and MK turns to him.

“What about her?” he asks, and Tang puts a hand to his mouth, biting his lip and glancing between the rest of the group and MK, unsure.

“Bud,” Monkey King takes a few cautious steps toward MK, as if MK were a cornered animal.  His feet slip a little on the ice, but not enough to stop his careful approach.  His tail is poised and very still, not so much as a twitch from it.  “I think you’re feeling a bit...um, scrambled right now.  Why don’t you hand me the staff, and we can talk about this?” He gives MK a soft smile, but MK frowns.

If he takes the staff you can’t finish your work! Does he think you don’t deserve it anymore?

“But I need it,” he responds, simple and to the point.  “It’s mine.”  Right?  Because Monkey King gave it to him.  Gifts can’t be taken back, right?  MK’s still worthy, right?

Monkey King takes a deep breath, like he’s biting back a retort.

“Preeeeetty sure I let you borrow it.  ‘S called ‘Monkey King’s Staff’ for a reason, bud.  C’mon.” 

Another step forward.  MK grips the staff tighter.  

“MK, please,” Tang calls from his other side.

Don’t let him take it!

“We need you to let go!” Mei’s voice hits his ears.

They’re all lying to you!  

“Kid-I-c’mon, just let ‘em have it and we can go home,” Pigsy’s voice breaks, and MK feels like he’s going to break with it.

Is he even going to let you keep your home?!

Monkey King is close enough that MK can feel the heat of his power emanating off of him, of the great Sun Wukong.  His paws are soft and somehow even warmer than his power as he curls them around MK’s grip on the staff.

They don’t understand! They’re going to abandon you!

“That’s it, easy does it,” Relief colors Monkey King’s tone, and he smiles at MK as if MK were the sun.  It’s too soft to be true.  “Just hand it over, and we’ll make sure everything’s okay, alright?”

He starts to tug, pulling the staff out of MK’s grip ever so gently, and MK flinches as the voice rings loud in his ear.

YOU NEED IT DON’T LET HIM TAKE IT FROM YOU HE’LL RUIN EVERYTHING—

“It’s MͫIͥᶰNͤE!” MK shouts, and he slams the side of it into Monkey King’s stomach and launches his mentor across the room.

Monkey King crashes into the wall, groaning as he pushes away the falling rubble.  MK’s eyes are wild.  

“It’s mine, and you can’t have it!  I need it!” Ice crawls over his right hand, cementing his grip.  

Tang sees it, takes a step back, and turns to the two horrified bystanders.

“Run!” he shouts, and Mei bolts.  Pigsy stares, motioning for Tang to run, but Tang is too close to MK to do anything.

“What’d you do that for?” MK frowns, lowering a hand onto Tang’s shoulder.  Pigsy makes a choked sound.

“Go!  Bajie, get out of here!” Tang shouts, far more desperate than MK expected.  Why is everyone so terrified?  This is just a misunderstanding.

“Okay, tͭiͦmͦeˡ ͣoͭuͤt ͭfͦorͬ ͧᶰyˢoͣᶰuᶻᵃᶰᵍ,” MK pats Tang’s shoulder once, and Tang is rooted to the spot.  MK freezes him slower, because Tang isn’t strong, merely smart.  And if he does it slow, then he doesn’t have to chisel away the extra later.

Mei comes roaring in on her bike, and she picks up Pigsy by the back of his chef’s coat, throws him on the back of her bike, and zooms off.

“Tang!” Pigsy screams, but his voice gets farther and farther away.

“What’s wrong?” MK is so confused.  He looks to Monkey King, who is just sitting there on his cloud, horrified.

“Sun Wukong,” Tang says, voice hard.  The ice is up to his chest.  “Get out of here.  Bajie is going to be a wreck after this.”

“Can you make sense!” MK throws his hands up, tired of being ignored, talked over, walked over.  “Or at least ˢsͪtͧoͭp ͧᵖtalking!” And Tang goes silent, frozen.

MK turns back to Monkey King, and finds that his mentor has vanished.

Well, that won’t do.

After them!

MK jumps onto a disk of ice and slides across stone, feet still as the ice barrels over any obstacle, leading him past the dead sliver of a great mountain and up onto the streets.  Mei just has made her way to ground level, aided up by Monkey King, and MK zeroes in on them.

They pass by cars, and MK ignores the blaring horns as he slides over city streets.  The ice trailing behind him makes cars swerve out of control, but he needs to get to his friends.  They have to understand.  This is all for them!

The ice shoots forward, and he gets closer and closer, until Mei’s back wheel hits frost and the back of the bike jerks one way, the front the other.  The bike slips onto its side with immediacy, and Pigsy and Mei go sprawling as Mei’s bike falls apart, skidding across the ice.

Oh no.

“Mei!” he runs to her side.  

She groans, her bike suit torn.  He doesn’t even think about Pigsy at the moment, too worried about his best friend to think of the other person he hurt.  Plus, Pigsy’s a full grown adult, and MK has never seen Pigsy hurt like Mei is, so it doesn’t even register that Pigsy could be as injured as she is.  Her left arm has a large patch of skin that’s been burnt off by the road, and her legs are bleeding from various places.  Thankfully, she was wearing a helmet, so MK doesn’t have to worry about something so serious.  

“Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry.  Are you alright?  Where does it hurt?  I’m sorry!”

Some ice might help with the pain.

Right, right, icing the wound always helps.  He goes to make some, the power swirling in his hand, when a horn from a car blares, making him wince.  

Gosh, humans.  They’re so annoying!  If they could just stay out of the way, because he needs to fix this, that’d be great.

Remember the pause button?

It seems very inviting.  MK nods.  

Right.  A pause button.

“Just a sec, Mei,” he leaves her groaning on the ground, turning to face the city.

He slams his staff into the ground.

Ice shoots out in a wild dash.  It crawls over and into everything.  Cars, buildings, people—everything freezes.  He hears some screams, and watches people try and run for the hills, but the cold is faster. It billows down the streets, kicking up a white haze that is almost impossible to see through, that the pedestrians tripping on ice and solidifying get lost in, but it’s a snowy sheen that MK sees through perfectly. He can see the polished figures of buildings, glistening beneath their ice, the little mounds that must be people beneath the thick layer of ice. 

It’s all so pristine. So perfect.

Finally.

Finally.

MK is glad for the quiet.  With him and himself in his head, it’s hard to deal with outside noise. He just needed a moment of calm, to get to the task at hand.

The task at hand...Mei!

“Mei, are you—” he stops.  Mei and Pigsy aren’t there.  

His eyes search for them, and he can see Monkey King hurriedly pulling them up onto his cloud.  “Wait!”

Monkey King looks at him, and MK’s face is pleading.  He just wants to do right.  Why don’t they understand?  Once he fixes it all, everyone will be happy.  Can’t they wait?

“Sorry, bud,” Monkey King says.  

MK doesn’t know what he’s apologizing for. A rush of panic tries to grip his brain, something that was once so familiar, something that was once so him, but it disappears in MK’s desperation to act.

The cloud zooms off. He throws a hand out, running after it.

“NO!”

This is just like his dream.  At the edge of the city, a wall of ice rises.  It sparkles in the light of the setting sun, and MK raises it higher, and higher, as Monkey King and Mei and Pigsy and everyone he cares about most gets farther and farther away.

Monkey King punches through the ice, and they disappear into the horizon.

MK drops to his knees. They land hard on the frozen ground.

“You said they wouldn’t leave,” he whimpers out, crying because it hurts and he doesn’t know exactly why.

It’s more than just regular pain.  Something warm and different and yet familiar stings.  Something knows this isn’t right, this isn’t how it’s supposed to go!  If this was the right thing to do, why would everyone leave?

“I have to stop!” The words are forced out of his mouth.  

MK doesn’t know when the words are him and when the words are something else.  He doesn’t know who he is.  What’s right?  What’s wrong?  How can he tell?  

He’s just been listening to his own head, but his own head is arguing with itself.  

He slams his free fist into his temple, to try and make things settle.

Chains drag him to the ground, leaving him stuck.

You are doing everything just right.

The voice is soft in one ear, but on the other side MK hears No! On repeat.  No, this isn’t right.  You froze good people.  Innocent people!  You froze Tang and Sandy!  You made Pigsy cry!  You hurt Mei!

They don’t understand yet.  Monkey King is notoriously stubborn.  He isn’t ready for his successor to pass him yet.  All you have to do is wait for them to come back.  And they will.

It’s harder and harder to hear the argument against this.  

The voice sounds so self assured.  The warmth that doesn’t burn gets weaker and weaker, like a fire out of kindling.  

He wheezes, and tears turn to snowflakes on his skin.  He chokes on his own breath.  It comes out white and fogs his vision, but he can’t find it in himself to care.  

Everyone’s gone.  

He’s alone.  

This can’t be right.

It is.  You just haven’t done enough yet.

That, MK understands.  The need to do more, be more.  It makes far more sense that he hasn’t done enough, than anything else.

“They’ll come back?” He asks, and his voice sounds so loud in the quiet.  He feels a hand brush his hair back.  He leans into the touch, but it’s gone.

Of course.  

MK stands.  The chains vanish, and he smiles.

“Okay then!  Let’s get to work!”  

He hasn’t let go of the staff in ages.  He doesn’t think he can.  He turns to the mess he’d made in his rush job, the frozen city’s statue.  He has to fix that, it’s unsightly!  Mei and Pigsy and Monkey King won’t like a mess.

As he plans, as he hopes, he feels a smile in the back of his head.  It feels like a snowball to his skull, chilling and yet a comfort, somehow.

Wonderful work, Vessel.  We’re going to do great things together.

[woah-were-halfway-there]

The Sweetest of Them All

A/N: just another little bonus part of the AFTR universe that I came up with out of nowhere. Also, I left this as third person instead of second. Enjoy!

Word Count: 3.2k

Y/N has never been a big fan of Valentine's Day.

To her, it was overrated and expensive. But, she'd be lying if she said she didn't love the fact that it gave an extra reason to love on Auston a ridiculous amount. Sure, she did that every day, but to be fair, she loved how the title of Valentine's Day added a bit more fun and excitement to something she'd normally do any other day. It felt different for some reason, so even though she didn't love the so-called holiday, she still tried to plan something special for it every year.

Admittedly, she and Auston almost got competitive about it with trying to one-up the other with affection. They didn't care about gifts. They cared about the time they spent together and the thoughtfulness behind it.

Usually, it was Y/N that came up with something ridiculously sweet for Valentine's Day to do for Auston. However, this year, he had her beat.

For some odd reason, Y/N woke up very early that day. Maybe it was the baby waking her, or perhaps it was her internal clock saying sleep was no longer necessary. But, regardless, she was awake much earlier than usual. She also knew Mia wasn't awake or else she would've heard her, so she took that time to lie back in bed and relax for a few minutes on her own.

The bed felt incredibly empty, given that Auston was with the Leafs in Washington and wasn't expected to be back in Toronto until late that night. Frank was a good cuddle buddy alternative, but sometimes the Goldendoodle just wasn't enough when Y/N was missing her man. Of course, this was one of the days when she missed him a lot, so she took that as an excuse to text Auston and at least get this so-called holiday kicked off.

Y/N Happy Valentine's Day, Aus 🥰 can't wait to see you tonight

She wasn't expecting him to message back right away, seeing as it was only 7:30 in the morning, but much to her surprise, he did.

Auston Happy Valentine's Day, babe 💕 Can't wait to see you either. Did the flowers for Mia get delivered?

Y/N Yes, they got here last night. They're beautiful. I set them on the kitchen counter, so once she's awake and we go downstairs, she'll see her little V-Day gift from you

Auston Perfect. I got part of your Valentine's thing with me right now too. Ready for it?

Y/N Is it going to make me cry?

Auston Probably

Y/N Great. Hit me with your best shot

She stared at her phone screen for a moment, expecting it to light up with the notification of an incoming FaceTime call from her husband or a picture, but instead, he sent her a link. But not just any link, it was the link to the video recording of a new Spittin' Chiclets podcast episode that was over an hour-long called 'Love Day: Part One.'

Confused, but also insanely curious, Y/N then leaned over to grab her laptop from the bedside table and got into the most comfortable position her growing baby bump would allow so she could watch the video like that. As soon as she was about to press play, her phone buzzed with another text.

Auston This was filmed a couple of weeks ago when the Chiclets guys were in Toronto. They interviewed at least 10 different guys in the league at different times, and they're kind of long, which is why there's more than one part. Just watch the intro, then I'm the first interview. Mitch is on part 2 if you want to watch that as well, but yeah... call me when you're done 💕

Still unsure of how to process what was going on, Y/N just shook her head and followed the link.

The video started with Biz, Whit and Rear sat all-around a table, each wearing a different red, white or pink shirt with heart-shaped balloons positioned behind them. Empty bottles of Pink Whitney sat on the table, acting as vases for bouquets of roses, making Y/N roll her eyes and chuckle at how far these guys would go for good product placement. But, she kept watching, and unsurprisingly, Biz was the first to speak.

Biz: "For Valentines Day this year, we wanted to do something different. Something more soft. So, we're going to tell, well, I guess, show some love stories."

Whit: "Bet you all didn't know that some of the greatest love stories to ever be told have happened to some of the guys that play in the NHL. Don't believe me? Guess you'll have to listen to find out what they are."

Rear: "We asked some players to come in and talk to us about their relationship stories and give as many details as they were willing to give. And let me tell you, they were great. To start us off, we have Auston Matthews of the Toronto Maple Leafs telling us his fairytale romance."

The video then clipped to a shot of Biz sitting next to Auston in what Y/N assumed was the hotel downtown that the Chiclets guys were staying at. Auston wasn't dressed extravagantly or anything, just wore a grey hoodie, black pants, and his signature Raiders snapback.

Y/N immediately recognized his outfit. She remembered Auston coming home in those same clothes early one afternoon after he did some running around downtown with Mia, and started thinking of how not once did he mention doing anything for the podcast. He kept this very on the down low, and Y/N was excited to see how it would all play out.

Biz: "Alright, with us today, we have none other than the Leafs number 34, Auston Matthews. Welcome back to the show, Auston. How ya doin?"

Auston: "I'm great. Thanks for having me. How are you guys?"

Whit and Rear: "Good."

Biz: "Great, real good. Now, Auston, you know what you're here to talk about, right?"

Auston: (chuckling) "You're acting like you didn't spend the last week blowing up my phone until I agreed to do this."

Biz: "Amazing! You do know. So, here's how it's all going to go down. We've got a list of questions about your relationship with your significant other. Your obvious better half. And are going to take turns asking them so the people listening at home can get a bit of insight on your, and I quote, iconic love story. Why don't you give us a little summary of your relationship before we dive in?"

Auston: (hesitantly) "Sure, okay. So, my wife Y/N and I have been married for almost two years now. Our anniversary is at the end of July. She accidentally forgot it last year, which I haven't let her live down. Y/N, babe, this is your six month in advance warning that our anniversary is indeed coming up again this year… She's going to hate that I mentioned that. We, uh, we've been together since my first season in Toronto, so for a pretty long time now, and it's been amazing. We have a daughter, Amelia, but everyone just calls her Mia unless she's in trouble. She just turned two on January 25th, and we have our second baby on the way. They're due to be making their grand appearance in late June. We also have our firstborn, Frank, the Goldendoodle. Can't forget about him. But, yeah, that's my little family."

Whit: (nodding along with Biz and Rear) "Fair enough. Now, how and when did you and Y/N meet exactly?"

Auston: "We met on the night of my first NHL game back in 2016. She was at that game."

Biz: "Oh, yeah? Was she there for a reason?"

Auston gave him an unimpressed look.

Biz: "What?"

Auston: "You know why she was there!"

Biz: (shrugging) "Our listeners don't. C'mon, refresh my memory. Was she there to cheer someone else on?"

Auston: (shaking his head) "Yeah. She, uh, she's a cousin of one of my teammates, so she was there with their family to watch him during our first game."

Biz: (grinning widely) "What teammate?"

Auston: "The one out in the hallway keeping my daughter occupied while you keep being annoying and asking me questions you already know the answer to."

Everyone laughed at that, including Y/N, as she shifted onto her side, being mindful of her growing bump that seemingly became more noticeable each day, and got comfortable as she braced herself for what the rest of this interview would entail.

Biz: (still laughing): "Just to clarify for everyone who still doesn't know, he's talking about Mitch Marner."

Auston: "Yeah, yeah, laugh it up."

Rear: "I take it that Mitch and Mia get along really well? I haven't heard a peep from her since you came in here."

Auston: "Oh, she loves him. Yeah, that's her Mitchy, alright. Him and Steph, who you will hear all about once Mitch comes in here, are Mia's godparents and some of her favourite people."

Whit: "That's awesome. And how was that at first, though, being romantically involved with one of your teammates' family members? Sounds like grounds for some chaos, if I'm honest."

Auston: "It sure made meeting the family a bit more nerve-wracking. I'm just kidding. No, it was fine. It was definitely a little awkward at first trying to figure out how I was going to tell Mitch that I wanted to date his cousin. Like, he and Y/N are very close. Always have been. And the last thing both me and Y/N wanted was for Mitch to be uncomfortable. He did handle it really well, though. It's because of him I was even able to get to know her in the first place, which I'll never be able to thank him enough for."

Rear: "Now, you're a pretty private guy. You post the odd picture of your little family from time to time. Y/N is rather private, as well. So, really, no one knows your guys' story other than those who have lived it with you or watched it unfold. I'm sure many people will jump right on the chance to listen to this, seeing as you and Y/N are one of the most beloved couples in the NHL. But, what exactly made you want to come on here, give a bit of insight into your private life, and talk about it all?"

Auston: "Well, for one, Biz would not stop asking me to do it. Literally kept calling and texting me for days until I finally agreed."

Whit: "Shocker."

Biz: "Hey, now."

Auston: (chuckling) "That and also I figured, why not. I love my wife, and I love our little story. It's nice to think back on everything that's happened and see how it all got us to where we are now. With all the ups and the downs, its uh, it's been an amazing ride for sure, and I wouldn't change it for a thing. Also, it's for Valentine's Day. I haven't told her I'm doing this, so when you guys drop the episode, I'm just going to send it to her without much context."

Whit: "Do you think she'll cry?"

Auston: "Absolutely. I know this kind of thing would make her tear up regularly, but those pregnancy hormones have got her bad. Without a doubt, she's going to call me crying once she's done watching this."

Y/N scoffed as he said that and grabbed some tissues to wipe away the waterworks she already felt coming on.

Biz: "I've met Y/N many times now. The first time being back in what, 2018?"

The screen then showed an old picture of Biz sitting in a restaurant with his arm wrapped around Y/N's shoulders, both smiling widely as they held up their drinks, with Auston seemingly moping off to the side a little bit. Y/N chuckled at the image, instantly thinking back to the day she first met Paul Bissonnette and how wild it was before the photo faded away and showed the guys again.

Biz: "Yeah, it was when she was in Scottsdale visiting you during the summer. Great girl, completely out of Auston's league."

Auston: "Hey!"

Biz: "I'll never forget you sassing her when she commented on how hot Arizona was, with her being Canadian and all, but damn she was fast putting you in your place by calling you a, what was it?"

Auston: (grumbling) "Desert Boy."

Everyone burst out laughing again, except Auston, who just rolled his eyes and sighed dramatically.

Auston: "Whatever. She sasses me all the time when I complain about the snow, but the one time I do it back, I get called a Desert Boy and can never live it down."

Biz: (still laughing) "Ugh, amazing. Okay, moving on because we don't have much time and can probably fit in like two more questions. So, Auston, tell us how you knew that Y/N was the end game for you. How did you know that she was the one?"

Auston: "Oh, man. I don't even know how to explain it. Growing up, you see all these movies and shows, or read books where people always find someone who is their soulmate. Their perfect match. And I never knew what the feeling of finding that person was because I had never experienced it. My mom would tell me that when I did find that person, I'd know. That it'll be such an intense feeling, and to be honest, I didn't believe her. Until I met Y/N, I know that sounds cheesy, but it's true. The first time I met her, something drew me in, and I knew I wanted to get to know her better right away. Mitch spoke so highly of her, so did the other guys on the team that had already met her and over the first couple of months of us knowing each other, I saw what they meant. She quickly became one of my best friends ever. When we started dating, I saw more of how good a person she is, which attracted me even more. She is so selfless and caring for everyone around her; it truly blows my mind. I had never seen my family welcome a girl I introduced them to as quickly as they did her, and I trust their judgment the most. But even if they didn't do that, I know they would have accepted her regardless because, honestly, I probably seemed like a lovesick idiot. I still do. Y/N became this significant light in my life that I knew I wanted to be there forever. I began thinking about what it'd be like spending the rest of my life with her. Then it became something that I knew I needed. I can't imagine my life without her, and I never want to. She makes me so happy and has given me more than I could ever thank her for. I'll never understand how I, of all people, was the one to capture her massive heart, but I do know how lucky I am."

As he spoke, the screen showed a little picture slideshow of Y/N and Auston over the years of their relationship. It started with one that Ema took the first time Y/N had ever gone to Scottsdale. Y/N was sitting on the edge of a pool, and her legs dipped into the water. Auston stood between them as he wrapped his arms around her middle and leaned against her while looking over at where Ema stood taking the picture. The next one was from a Christmas party where the two were under a mistletoe as Auston leaned Y/N back and was kissing her cheek as she laughed and held onto him for dear life. There was a picture of them with Auston's family, one of them with Mitch and Steph, and another of Auston with his arms around Nate and Mya, Y/N's younger brother and sister, as the three smiled at the camera and Y/N was in the background looking confused.

The last few pictures were a bit more recent. They showed Y/N holding Frank as a puppy, a maternity photo of her and Auston posing when she was pregnant with Mia, and one of them on their wedding day with Mia and the rest of the gang. Then, the slideshow concluded with a very recent picture of them taken just a couple of weeks prior at Mia's birthday party, where Auston has his arms wrapped around Y/N from the back, showcasing her growing belly. At the same time, she leaned against him and glanced over her shoulder at him lovingly. The photos then went away and showed the guys again as Auston finished speaking.

Auston was right. Y/N was full-on bawling by that point.

All the guys were smiling as Auston finished saying his thing, but were soon interrupted by a knocking noise followed by a door opening.

Mitch: (offscreen) "Wait, no! Don't let her in!"

Mia: (also offscreen) "Daddy!"

Mia then came into the frame as she ran towards Auston, not caring about what was going on or who was there. Auston was quick reacting as he smiled widely and scooped Mia right up into his arms, making sure to place multiple kisses on her cheek as she giggled and squirmed in his hold, while Mitch became visible too and shrugged.

Auston: "Hi, mini. I missed you. Did you have fun with Mitchy?"

Mia: "Yeah! Where's mommy, daddy?"

Auston: "She's at home, baby girl. I'm almost done, then we can go get a Timbit while we wait for Mitch to be done. Sounds good?"

Mia: (knuckling at her eyes, tiredly) "Mhmm."

Rear: "This is adorable."

Biz: "Hi, Mia."

Mia: (shyly while hiding against Auston's chest a bit) "Hi, Biz."

Whit: (laughing) "Okay, I think we've kept you long enough now, Auston. Is there anything else you and Mia would like to say to Y/N?"

Auston: "Yes. Happy Valentine's Day, babe. I love you so much, and I'm sorry I'm not there right now. You're going to hear a lot more from me on actual Valentine's Day, but for right now, I think that's just about it. Mia, can you blow a kiss to the camera so mommy can see it and say 'happy Love Day!'"

Mia: (blows the kiss) "Happy Love Day, mommy!"

Auston: "Can you tell her that you love her?"

Mia: "Love you!"

Auston and Mia then waved to the camera and said bye as the clip faded out, and a new interview of another NHLer began playing.

Y/N's heart felt so full. She couldn't stop crying over how much she loved her family and how badly she needed to hear something like that. Life had been particularly hard on her as of late and seemed to keep throwing her curveballs, but this, this was exactly what she needed. To be reminded of how loved she is and that she genuinely is never alone.

She then grabbed her phone to call Auston and remind him of how much she loved him, that day and every day. The two talked for a few minutes before Y/N was pretty sure she could hear Mia waking up. After saying their goodbyes, Y/N found herself thinking about how, regardless of how she feels about the actual day, this was a Valentine's Day she will never forget.

[tangledstarlight]

i’ll say it with petals (you’ll ink it in my skin)

julie works at her families flower shop and luke works in the tattoo parlour next door. one time he plays his music a little too loud, one time julie decides to have a word.

it just a lil flower shop / tattoo artist au

i honestly had so much fun writing this one and it really truly did get away from me. i didn’t mean for it to be 11k words long, my bad. it also lowkey covers the ‘how do you passive aggressively say fuck you in flowers’ prompt, so the flower meanings are at the end. 

but anyway please enjoy!!!

also on ao3 (in source!)

trigger warnings! death mentions (julies mom), mild swearing, underage drinking (literally a single beer) needles.

When she was little Julie remembers always being excited to get to go to work with her mom at the flower shop. Because she liked to spend time with her mom, but also because Julie really loved all the flowers.

Walking into the shop when she was little always felt a little like walking into a magical world. Somewhere full of bright colours and loud scents and soft instrumental music always playing in the background. It felt a lot like home too.

With her mom singing and her tia laughing and Julie trying to join in with both. She remembers, when she was little, always pulling one of the tall chairs up to the counter, greeting customers with a gap toothed smile and asking in her best voice ‘what can I help you with today?’ but she’d a little bit of a lisp and the chair would wobble and the customer would smile politely but ring the bell for her mom or tia to come bustling out.

Walking into the shop still feels a little bit magical even now she’s nineteen and no longer full of childhood wonder, but it’s also tinged with a melancholy feeling that has her sitting at the front counter on one of the tall chairs and humming quietly to herself.

When Julie thinks back on her childhood now, it’s full of music and laughter and flowers. When she closes her eyes, when the shop is quiet and she’s alone in the backroom, she can almost hear her mom singing about flower names to her and hear tia talking away to a customer and her dad dropping by to kiss her hair and leave lunch. It used to hurt, and sometimes it still does, but mostly it just makes her smile.

Until the sound of heavy drums and a loud guitar breaks her peaceful afternoon.

Julie accidentally snaps the stem of the lily in her hand as she glares at the wall that connects their shop to the tattoo parlour next door. For the last two weekends this has been happening on and off. The music would start blaring at random points in the day and abruptly stop. Only to start again a little later on.

Now see, despite what people at her school might have said in senior year, Julie still loved music. She liked to play it just as loud as the next person, and she didn’t even mind whatever band it was that was playing. They had some very catchy riffs and melodies, from what she could hear.

But when your music echoed through the walls so loud that someone next door could hear the words, your music was too loud.

Putting the snapped lily down, Julie wipes her hands on her apron and glares a little more at the wall, like the person on the other side would be able to see her, when there’s no change she glances at the clock. Twelve o’clock. So much for having a quiet lunch break and watching an episode of Schitt’s Creek. The only silver lining was that the music didn’t normally last for long. Twenty minutes at most.

By one o’clock, when the music is still blasting and she’s starting to gain a headache and she’s started looking up obscure flowers that could mean ‘shut up’, Julie decides she needs to do something.

The tattoo parlour has been in business next door to Petal Pushers for the last six years and as far as Julie knows there’s never been any issues between them. (In fact, Julie knows that her mom had gotten her last tattoo there and that her tia often gave them leftover arrangements for their front window and four years ago, when the flower shop had undergone a rebrand, one of their artists had designed their logo.)

All she had to do was go next door and ask whoever it was to turn the volume down. Easy.

She finds herself waiting another half an hour, just in case, but she can still hear the crashing of drums and the pulsing bass.

So she slips her phone into her back pocket and picks up her keys, turns the sign on the door to ‘back in ten minutes!’ and walks the eight steps to the right, pushes open the door to Etched in Ink and is immediately attacked by music. There’s a more authentic feeling to it now she’s in the shop, something alive about it, but it might just be the volume and how she can see the bowl of lollies on the front desk actually vibrating.

“Hello?” Her voice gets lost in someone singing about time moving slowly as she steps further into the shop, eyes glancing around. She’s been in before –– she came when her mom got her tattoo and she’s dropped off flowers on occasion –– but it’s been a while. There’s some new art work on the walls she thinks, and band posters. Fingers tapping on the desk she shouts a hello again but isn’t surprised when it’s once again swallowed by the music

Rolling her eyes Julie steps around the desk and through to the main area of the shop where the music is impossibly louder, but there’s still no one around. Honestly, it would be so easy for someone to walk in and rob the place.

Her fingers walk along the arm arm of a chair as she walks through the space and towards a slightly ajar staff door at the back. Julie knocks, to be polite, but huffs out a breath when there’s still no response. Honestly, she can barely hear herself think in this place, let alone hear someone at the door.

Pushing it open, her mouth opens to reprimand whoever is inside but instead she’s left standing both thoughtless and speechless at the guy bouncing around the room.

He’s wearing black jeans and an orange beanie that contradict with the sleeveless band shirt covering his torso. Because that’s all it’s covering, and doing a poor job at that. Julie watches, a little transfixed, as his biceps flex, sleeve of tattoos dancing with the movement as he plays along with the guitar riff of the song on the electric in his hands.

Idly, in the back of her mind, she finally understands why the music had felt different when she stepped into the shop.

He nods his head in time with the music and the crashing of a cymbal, eyes shut tight and biting his bottom lip in concentration.

And okay, Julie knows she came over to yell at the asshole playing his music too loud and is now just gawking at him. But in her defence, she didn’t know he was going to be so hot.

Julie’s still standing in the doorway staring at him, her mind trying desperately to regain control, when he opens his eyes and looks right at her. His eyes widen a fraction in surprise, and she notices his fingers slip, just a little on the frets, before a smirk curls at the edges of his lips.

In mild horror and joy, Julie watches as he takes a step closer to her, fingers moving across the strings as he follows along with the song and stares right at her.

Swallowing, and trying to ignore how warm her cheeks suddenly feel, Julie crosses her arms over her chest and raises an eyebrow at him as the song finally seems to come to an end.

“I knocked!” She blurts out the second he hits pause on the cd player in the corner of the room and she resists the urge to move hair in front of her face when he looks at her with a single raised brow. “But it’s no surprise you couldn’t hear me over this racket,” she waves vauley to his guitar, careful to avoid eye contact with his arms.

“You work next door, right?” He asks, sitting on top of the table in the middle of the room, his feet resting on the chair while he rests his guitar on his lap, folding his arms on top, muscles flexing and oh god. She really needs to stop staring at his arms.

“Mhm,” she manages to get out along with a nod of her head, eyes darting up to his face. But from the look in his eyes Julie’s pretty sure she’s been caught staring.

“I’ve seen you around,” he pulls his bottom lip between his teeth and he smiles and Julie thinks that might be worse to look at then his arms. Fucking hell, “I’m uh Luke, by the way. Started here a few months ago.”

“Right,” this conversation was not going the way she anticipated. Pushing aside his employment history and his name –– though she is grateful to have it –– Julie clears her throat and pulls herself up a little straighter. “That’s great. I came to ask you to turn the music down. I can barely think next door.”

“You don’t like the songs?” There’s a slight pout on his lips that almost distracts her and has her saying she does like the songs.

Instead she shakes her head, “It’s not exactly the soundtrack I want when making a funeral arrangement.”

Honestly, she had been expecting him to nod in understanding, apologise for the loudness and promise to keep it down. She didn’t expect him to let out a laugh –– which was bright and clear and made his eyes crinkle in such a cute way that it totally distracted her from his biceps –– or lean towards her with a grin.

“Are you kidding!? A song about how life is short and you’ve got to live it like it’s now or never––” he sings the line and suddenly Julie is hit with the knowledge that the music she’s been hearing over the last few weeks is apparently his, ”Is the perfect soundtrack for a funeral arrangement. Also possibly christenings. But I don’t know if flowers are a thing for those.”

“Of course there’s –– No, no stop,” she closes her eyes, throwing her hands up before she really loses track of the conversation, “I’m not here to talk about flower arrangements. I just came to ask for you to please turn the music down,” she pauses, eyes darting to his arms and the guitar they’re resting on before pointing at the amp its plugging into, “And if you’re going to play, to do it at a 1, not a 10.”

“Even if I play something arrangement appropriate like You Raise Me Up?” Luke leans a little more forward, pushing himself to the edge of the table until his guitar is almost touching the back of the chair.

“Even if you played Danny Boy,” Julie doesn’t know when she’d copied him, tilting forward at the waist so they were almost eye level, but when she notices she can make out the details of the book inked into his skin she realises they’ve drifted closer. Cheeks warming, she stands up straighter and brushes her hands down her apron.

“Just–– keep it down. Please,” she turns to walk out the door but hesitates, turning to look at him over her shoulder, eyes firmly on his face, “If not for my sake then for your own. Anyone could walk in here and rob you, and you wouldn't hear a thing.”

“Hey wait! You didn’t tell me your name! Can’t spend the whole conversation staring at my arms and not give me something.”

Julie pauses, lets her eyes wander from his fingers resting on the neck of his guitar, up his inked forearms and biceps before landing on his face, quirking her lips a little, “Think of it as payment for disrupting my lunch.”

She’s halfway through the main room when she hears him stuttering out a laugh and calling after her again, and it takes all her willpower not to turn around.

Unfortunately that means she’s a blushing mess by the time she makes it back into her shop, shaking her head as she tries to stop smiling.

//

After their first encounter Luke doesn’t play his music too loud anymore, but Julie suddenly starts seeing him all the time anyway.

A Tuesday morning when she’s opening up, blinking back a yawn and fumbling with her keys and he’s wandering up with a wide grin and too chirpy hello. She’s fairly certain she grumbles something about daylight and needing coffee before dealing with him and an amused smile on his lips. (The next Tuesday when he’d strolled up he’d had a carrier with two take out cups and handed one to her without a word. Julie had stood stunned for a few seconds before her brain kicked in and she’d opened the door with a muttered thanks.)

A Thursday evening when she’s lugging a bag of garbage out to the bins at the back of the shop and Luke’s sitting on the old deck chair in his shop's yard, notebook open on his lap and pen tapping on his knee. He’d gotten up, pen tucked behind his ear and book stuffed in his back pocket, and come over to help her. After she’d said thank you they’d hesitated in each other's space and shared a smile before going their separate ways. (Later, Juile wrinkles her nose when she realises it’s the first time they’ve both smiled at each other and it had been next to the god damn bins.)

A Friday at lunch time when she’s bringing out a tray of flowers to give to the hearse driver parked on the street and Luke walks past humming the tune to Danny Boy under his breath, making her burst into a fit of giggles that makes him grin and the driver frown and her blush. (She sees him walking past again half an hour later and waits until she’s sure he’s inside before hitting play on their sound system, You Raise Me Up starts blasting through the shop and she grins to herself when she hears something hit their connecting wall.)

A Sunday afternoon when she’s collecting all the leftover bouquets from out front of the shop and Luke walks past her, hands in his pockets and guariar case slung over one shoulder. He pauses as she straightens up with a collection of rose bouquets in her arms, she raises an eyebrow at him and Juile could swear he blushes, but it’s probably a trick of the dying light. He’d given her a two finger salute, muttered something about having a good afternoon and then hurried away. (Julie had spent the last hour of her shift before closing thinking about the way the denim jacket he had been wearing did very little to hide the definition of his arms.)

So Julie’s used to seeing him around now.

To their little quips and shared coffees on Tuesday mornings and the way the ghost tattoo at the bottom of his bicep seems to dance whenever he shoots her a wave.

But she’s used to seeing him outside.

Never inside Petal Pushers surrounded by flowers or tilting his head as he listens to the softly playing music.

But on a Wednesday afternoon as she comes out of the back room when someone rings the bell on the counter she’s greeted by Luke doing just that. He’s got one hand pushed into the front pocket of her jeans while his other is idly tracing a pattern on the counter top, it’s only when she gets a little closer that she realises he’s tracing music notes.

“Hi, welcome to Petal Pushers. I’m Julie, how can I help you today?” The words leave her mouth before she can stop them, mind working on autopilot at the sight of a customer.

A slow smile spreads across Luke’s face as he looks down at her, his fingers stilling on the counter, “So you’re name’s Julie,” he says and Julie doesn’t think she’s ever heard anyone say her name like him. Like it’s the lyric to a song they’ve been trying to finish or a missing puzzle piece.

Letting out a sigh she gives him a nod, chewing on her bottom lip as she really looks at him. Over the last few weeks Julie has learned that he doesn’t work Wednesdays, that he has a real aversion to sleeves and when he knows no one is booked in for an appointment he uses the time to practice for his band. She’s also learnt that he bites his lip way too much for her health, has a tattoo on his ribs that she’s dying to fully see and that he rubs the back of his neck when he’s nervous.

Like he’s doing right now.

“It is. Did you just come in to finally find out or did you need some flowers?” She tilts head at him and smiles.

“I uh––” his hand is still rubbing at his neck and Julie watches his tongue run over his lips and she has to blink quickly to refocus her eyes when he starts talking, “I heard that flowers have different meanings, right?”

“Uh yeah,” she nods, still blinking, but more in confusion now. This isn’t quite what she thought the conversation was going to be.

“Okay cool. So um, how would you say fuck you in flowers?”

Julie blinks, opens her mouth to say something only to close it again. Huh. Really wasn’t what she expected him to ask.

“Well, do you want to say it subtly? Passive aggressive? Just a straight up fuck you?” Her mind is already thinking about possibilities and what they have in stock.

“Straight up fuck you,” he nods once before muttering, more to himself then her, “I don’t think Bobby would even understand subtly.”

Squinting for a moment, Julie knocks her knuckles on the counter top once before pushing away from it and starting to move around the shop. She picks out a few pink peonies and pale pink geraniums, she looks at the different carnations they have out, pursing her lips in thought.

“What exactly has this Bobby done? Dumped you for someone with better biceps?” She teases, glancing at him over her shoulder as she deliberates between the yellow and purple.

“I wish. That would have been better,” he sighs and Julie frowns at him, brows drawing together as she watches him tap on the counter. “He uh he used to be in my band? But he left because of ‘creative differences’, which was basically because he wanted us to sell out to the first big name label.”

He looks up at her, eyes wide and disgusted at the mere thought of it. And well, she understands that. From the little she’s heard of their band through the walls Julie’s fairly certain they don’t need to sell out to make it big. So she nods at him, tilting her head and hoping he gets that she understands.

“So he left and that was–– it was shit really because we’d all been friends for years. Me and the boys, we tried to keep in touch with him because he left the band but we didn’t think it meant we’d stop being friends, y’know?” Luke moves away from the counter now, wanders over to her and fingers the brushing gently over the petals of a rose as he frowns, “But he cut us off. Found out why yesterday.”

He pauses, fingers still moving over the rose and Julie takes the opportunity to pick out a few of the orange carnations, mentally deciding to fetch two sprigs of meadowsweet from the back when Luke starts talking again.

“He signed with some big shot label and has an album coming out in November. Seven out of the ten songs on it are mine,” as he says it he pulls a little to hard on the petal, tearing it in half, “Fuck, sorry.”

Julie waves away his apology, picking the damaged rose out and adding it to her arms. There’s a dull sort of roaring in her ears as she walks back to the counter, still trying to wrap her head around his story.

His friend had stolen his songs. Had stolen his songs and sold out.

She looks down at the flowers on the counter, stupidity and disappointment and uselessness and anger. Glancing up at Luke, who’s wandered back to the counter, hands pushing into his pockets and looking a little lost.

“He really stole your songs?” She asks gently. It’s been a long time since Julie played her own music, even longer since she wrote a full song, but she knows how much it would hurt her if someone ever stole them from her. Especially if that person had been her friend.

“Yeah,” Luke breaths, resting against the counter and shrugging at her.

“Okay then.”

Holding up one finger she hurries into the back room, picks up a roll of cellophane and the worst ribbons they have, two sprigs of meadowsweet and plucks a single orange lily from the bucket against the wall. Luke’s still leaning against the counter where she left him, staring at the collection of photos on the wall behind it. Most are just photos of their most popular bouquets but mixed between them are photos of her and her mom and her brother and her tia and her dad.

“Your aunt owns this place, right?” He asks casually. Too casually. Like he already knows the answer. Glancing up at him she hums, waiting to see where he’s going with it. “That’s cool. She brings us flowers for the front sometimes. Willie did your logo design, I think.”

Julie smiles at the mention of Willie, he’s a year older then her and had been working at Etched in Ink for the last four years, her mom had picked his design out she remembers. The rough sketched dahlia with music notes hidden in its petals and a rose in the centre. A combination of her moms and her tia’s favourite flowers and music that had always brought their family together.

“My mom said he really managed to capture our family business in it,” she chuckles, moving a carnation and adding one of the meadowood springs. Which might have been true, but Julie also knows they’d picked it because her mom only had a few months left and her tia wanted their new logo to still have something of her in it.

“He’s pretty good at doing that,” Luke agrees and the way he smiles at her lets Julie know that he knows about her mom. And she’s glad he doesn’t mention it, doesn’t try to offer any condolences. “He’s helping Reg re-do our bands logo.”

“Oh?” She raises an eyebrow though her eyes are still on the flowers. In go the peonies and geraniums, colours clashing.

“Sunset Curve. You should uh––” he hesitates for long enough that Julie looks up at him, at the faint blush on his cheeks and one hand at the back of his neck. “You should check us out. We’ve got a few videos on youtube. Or I could uh I could get you a copy of our demo.”

She looks at him for a heartbeat, at his pink cheeks and the way he’s biting his lip despite smiling and the blank space of skin on the underside of his arm. Julie gives him a half smile, eyebrows flicking up as she teases, “Okay, Sunset Swerve, right?”

“I’ll go back to playing our demo super loudly,” he tries to glare at her, but it's ruined by the way his lips stick out in a pout and the lock of hair falling across his forehead.

“Mhm, and I’ll just call the police with a noise complaint,” she grins at him.

“If you were gonna do that you’d have done it already,” he points out and yeah. He has a point there.

“Maybe,” she concedes looking back at the flowers and sticking the lily straight in the middle. No better way to say fuck you then with an orange lily. Without measuring she cuts off a length of the bright lime green ribbon and lays a section of cellophane on the counter top.

“That’s a terrible colour,” Luke points out mildly and when Julie flicks her eyes up she sees him grinning. She wraps two elastic bands around the flower stems and cuts them all down to the same size before laying them on the plastic wrap and rolling them together.

“Can you––” she gestures with her finger for Luke to hold the ribbon and cellophane in place while she ducks down to find a packet of flower food to attach. She might not like who the flowers are going to but that doesn’t mean the flowers should suffer the price. Tying the ribbon into a bow over Luke’s finger, she taps him lightly with her pinky to move it before pulling the loops tight.

“Do you want a card?” She asks, wondering which of their options would suit this type of bouquet best. Maybe just one of the plain yellow ones.

“Oh yeah. Can it say ‘Hey Bobby, fuck you’.”

Julie pauses with her pen hovering over the card, waiting to see if he’s going to add anything else.

“Just–– just that? Nothing more?” she looks up at him but Luke just shakes his head, nodding down to the card for her to finish. Shrugging she does, using her best cursive so he knows the sentiment is meant. She holds it up for Luke to inspect and when he grins she slots it into the flowers, stepping back a little to admire her creation.

It’s absolutely horrendous. It’s perfect.

“This is great,” Luke grins as his eyes roam across the flowers and Julie’s pretty sure he has no idea what any of them mean. But he’s definitely picked up on how awful it looks which seems to be good enough for him. “How much do I owe you?”

“Do you want them delivered?”

“Yeah that would be good,” he pulls his wallet out and Julie has to bite hard at her bottom lip to stop from laughing as she notices the chain attached to his belt.

“That’ll be $15,” she presses a few buttons on the cash machines screen, the card reader lighting up as she waits to see how he’ll be paying but Luke’s just frowning at her.

“That can’t be right. It says the orange and purples ones alone are like ten dollars.”

“Mhm, I’m only charging you for delivery,” she can tell he’s about to argue so she’s quick to speak, “As someone who once thought of herself as a musician, anyone who steals songs deserves worse than an ugly bouquet of flowers. Fifteen dollars Luke.”

There’s a different look in his eyes as he taps his card on the reader, something assessing. Like she’s just handed him another piece of a puzzle when he thought he’d completed it. Julie looks down at the card reader, ready to tear off his receipt so she doesn’t have to wonder what he’s seeing when he looks at her.

“They’ll go out this afternoon, be with Bobby by seven pm at the latest,” she says, pushing the post-it note with the address firmly onto the cellophane and gives Luke a smile.

“Thanks,” the smile he gives her in return is a lot softer than she’s used to from him. But she likes it. “I’ll uh, see you tomorrow?”

It’s a question, hesitant and careful. Almost like he’s worried she won't want to see him tomorrow. Which is silly. Seeing Luke, even briefly in passing, has quickly become her favourite part of the day. Not that she has any intention of letting him know that. That would be embarrassing.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Luke.”

“Bye. Julie,” and there’s her name again coming from his mouth that’s curving up into a smile. All she can do is wave awkwardly as he leaves.

A gasp of air leaves her lips as the door shuts behind him and she slumps forwards on the counter, nudging the flowers with her elbow, “Oh fuck.”

//

The saturday after the fuck you flowers Julie is handed an envelope by Victoria when she walks in for her shift at twelve o’clock. Julie gives her credit, she doesn’t start asking questions about ‘the puppy eyed boy’ until after she’s at least put her bag down.

“He all but pouted when I said you weren’t in yet, mija,” from the way Victoria wags her eyebrows Julie gets the feeling she might have ‘accidentally’ let slip when she was due in.

“I think that’s just his face tia. He made the same one when I said pizza was overrated.” Which was the wrong thing to say as Victoria’s eyes light up.

“And why were you talking about pizza?” She leans on the counter, handbag slipping down her shoulder at the movement.

“Because he mentioned he was getting pizza with his friends, that’s all. Nothing is going on between us, we’re just friends,” Julie tries to put as much stress on the word friends as she can. But Victoria just lets out a small hum, a knowing smile on her lips that Julie doesn’t want to acknowledge.

“If you say so Julie. Right, I’m off. See you for dinner tomorrow?” She pushes herself off from the counter, pushing up her bag and pointing one manicured hand at Julie.

“Papi’s making enchiladas, so there’s no need to bring anything.”

“Of course,” but they both know she’ll still bring something, perhaps a salad. Perhaps a whole meal. Victoria blows her a kiss and then turns in a flurry of skirts out of the door, leaving Julie shaking her head after her, a smile on her lips.

As soon as she’s sure that Victoria isn’t going to come bustling back in having forgotten something Julie unseals the envelope and pulls out a cd case with a post-it note stuck to the front. It takes her a while to work out what it says, but it’s easy enough to see the number scrawled at the bottom in a different handwriting.

It makes her smile, thinking about Luke writing the note and then asking one of his friends to write his number, like he wanted to make sure she could clearly read it. It almost makes her think he really wants to know her thoughts.

Making sure no one's about to come into the shop Julie slips into the back room and over to their sound system, taking out the cd of classical music and replacing it with the Sunset Curve demo. It doesn’t take her long to recognise the opening guitar riffs as the song that Luke had been playing along too when they’d first met, laughing a little to herself, she goes back to the front. Pulling one of the chairs over, she sits down and flips through the little leaflet that the cd came with.

Three faces looking out at her and one scribbled over in black sharpie. She’s going to hazard a guess that that’s Bobby. There’s writing underneath the photo and peering at it closer Julie sees that someone's someones written their names. Alex, Luke and Reggie. She shakes her head at the way he’s added his own name for her, just in case.

“Idiot,” she mutters fondly.

Luke doesn’t come back in, which is probably for the best because Julie keeps his demo playing for the rest of the day.

By the third play through she’s started to memorise the lyrics and by the fifth she’s adding in imaginary keys to parts of the songs and by the sixth she can harmonise along with them.

Around four, when she’s waving goodbye to a customer who came in asking for something blue she decides to take a break, turning the sign on the door as she presses Flynn’s name in her phone. She’s just turning the volume down on the sound system when her best friend answers.

“Okay, what’s the latest with Mr Arms?”

“He left me his demo and number, Flynn,” she whines, flopping down on the lumpy sofa, head hitting the wall softly.

“Is it bad?” Flynn asks and she can practically hear the frown in her voice. After the flower incident Julie had driven to Flynn’s dorm room and told her everything, and then they’d spent two hours looking through youtube for their videos. And they were good. Really good.

“No. It’s great. Amazing. Listen,” Julie pulls her phone away from her ear and hits the speaker button as the chorus of Late Last Night starts and she quietly sings along with Luke’s voice.

“Oh this is catchy,” she mutters, voice echoing through the room and Julie nods before remembering this is a phone call and her friend can’t see her.

“I know,” she groans, “Flynn. He’s hot, he plays guitar like a rockstar, he’s funny and helps me take out the garbage and his arms, Flynn. His arms!”

“I know babe. He’s got the arms of a greek god. You’ve told me,” there’s a teasing note in Flynn’s voice that just makes Julie groan again, slipping further down the sofa.

“What am I going to do?”

“Well, now hear me out, you could just text him. And ask him out.”

When she says it like that it sounds so simple. Julie frowns a little, absentmindedly nodding her head along with the outro to the song as she thinks about it. Texting him. Asking him out. Because what if he doesn’t like her like that? Sure they’ve been sort of flirting for a few weeks but he probably does that with everyone. With his face and personality, not to mention the whole band thing, he could get anyone he wanted, so why would he go for her?

“Okay Jules stop, I can practically hear you spiralling through the phone.”

“He might not even like me like that. He probably just wanted an opinion on his music,” she tries but it sounds weak even to her.

“Right, first of all you are hot. And anyone would be lucky to go out with you, more than lucky, they should be honoured that you’re even considering going out with them,” Julie laughs a little, but there’s no stopping Flynn when she’s on a roll, “Second the boy has taste if he’s asking for your opinion on his music because you have amazing taste. And third, they’re playing a show tonight at the Grange so meet me at mine at eight so I can judge your outfit.”

It takes Julie a moment to register what she’s said and then she’s blinking, pushing herself up on the sofa until she’s sitting up straight, “What? How do you know that?”

“They’re on twitter. And they really need some help on that front because there are so many typos,” Flynn trails off for a moment before her voice is back, “If it works out between you and Mr Arms I might consider offering them my services.”

“Isn’t the Grange a 21+ club?” She asks as her last argument but she already knows what Flynn is going to say. The fake ID in her purse is practically laughing at her.

“Fakes baby. Eight o’clock. Bring some of your dad's brownies.”

Julie doesn’t have a chance to think of any reasons why she can’t go before Flynn is saying “Love you bye!” and hanging up. She makes sure to carefully put the cd back in its case and slip it in her bag before locking up for the night, if they’re going to see them play Flynn should get to hear the whole demo.

//

The club is already busy when they show their ID’s to bouncers and wander in. Bodies press into each other on the dance floor in front of the stage, moving along to whatever the dj is playing so loudly it just sounds like bass to her. Flynn wraps a hand around her wrist and tugs her over to the bar, pushing through a group of boys around their age until they’re leaning on the counter.

“This place is smaller than I expected,” Julie shouts, shooting the bartender a smile as he puts down two beers in front of them and takes Flynn’s money.

“I guess unsigned bands can’t be picky,” Flynn grins at her as she picks up her drink and the two of them weave back through the crowd to one of the tables off to the side of the dance floor. There’s no chairs, but they don’t mind standing, “I wonder what time they’re on,” she taps the screen of her phone to check the time and Julie peers over as 9:32 flashes up.

Julie looks around, idly taking a swig of her drink as she watches a group of girls dance, laughing and giddy. The one downside to opting to take a year off before college is that she’s missing out on all this every week.

The sneaking into clubs and drunken dancing and shitty beer and new friends. Flynn always invites her when she goes out and she’s gone a few times, but it’s not the same. And anyway she’s meant to be using this year to decide what she wants to do. Who she wants to be. She’s pretty sure she’s not going to find it at the bottom of a bottle or on a sticky floor.

She pulls at the hemline of her black high waisted shorts, wiggling her hips a little as she tries to pull them down while trying to keep her lilac off shoulder crop top from riding up. It’s a delicate balance and she’s feeling suddenly self-conscious.

“Hey,” Flynn’s hand appears in her line of sight and Julie follows it up to her face where she’s peering at her through gold shimmering eyes, “You look amazing. Stop fussing.”

Julie blows out a breath, dropping her hands from her shorts and lifting her drink to her lips and drinking. Flynn’s growing smile is enough for Julie to try and relax. And then the DJ is pausing the music and announcing the last band of the night, there’s a loud cheer from the gathered crowd as the three members of Sunset Curve stroll onto the stage.

The dark haired bassist, Reggie, waves at the crowd as he checks his bass is plugged in, throwing a wink at someone in the front row with a grin. Alex seems to be looking for something in the crowd and finds it if the wide smile on his face is anything to go by. But Julie doesn’t really spare them much more than a sweeping glance as her eyes land on Luke.

Apparently the lack of sleeves extends to the stage, as does the beanie –– which makes zero sense and she will be teasing him about it if she doesn’t melt into a puddle of goo by the end of the night –– , but there’s an ease to the way he walks up to his mic, guitar strap across his body and plucking a pick out of his mouth. He grins at something Reggie says that none of them can hear, and his face lights up and Julie knows that whatever they’re about to see is going to be incredible.

“Hey, thanks for coming out tonight. We’re gonna kick this off with something from our upcoming EP. This is Now or Never.”

Luke nods at Reggie and Reggie nods at him and then they’re playing. She’d thought their demo was good, had thought their badly recorded covers on youtube were good, had even liked the little she’d heard through the walls three weeks ago, but hearing them live is another feeling altogether.

They’re better than good and amazing doesn’t feel strong enough. Their whole performance is high energy and makes you want to get up, to dance, to sing along. So they do.

Julie downs the rest of her drink and then clutches Flynn’s hand as she pulls them through the crowd until they’re in the middle of the floor. Bodies pushing in around them, all jumping and swaying and some even singing along when they know the words. She lets herself get lost in the music, in the feeling of the drums through the floor and how the bass line reverberates through her.

It’s when they start In Your Starlight that Luke’s eyes find her in the crowd.

She knows the moment he does because his eyes widen a little and his fingers slip, playing the wrong note as he stumbles a half step backwards. And then he’s smiling, eyes crinkling at the corners as he nods at her, tongue sticking out slightly between his teeth before he starts to sing. While looking directly at her.

Maybe it’s the alcohol in her system or Flynn’s pep talks have finally clicked in her head, but she doesn’t look away, she sings his song back to him. She liked to think the slight tinge of pink on his cheeks by the end of the song is because of that.

They close with a cover of Everybody Talks and when Luke raises an eyebrow at her and nods to the side of the floor where the booths are she doesn’t hesitate to nod with a grin.

“Thank you! We’re Sunset Curve!” Luke shouts into his mic, wiping sweat off his face as he grins out the crowd.

“Tell your friends!” Reggie chimes in, winking at someone and then they’re walking off the stage and Julie is pulling Flynn over to the booths. For a moment, she hesitates as she looks at them, not sure where to go because they’re all occupied. And then a familiar face is waving them over and Julie breaths out a sigh and a smile at the sight of Willie.

“Molina! I didn’t know you were coming!” He grins as Flynn slips into the booth first and Julie slides in after her.

“Sort of a last minute thing,” she laughs nervously, because now that she’s here and knows they’re about to come out she’s suddenly second guessing everything. “This is my best friend Flynn. Flynn, Willie, he works at Etched in Ink too.”

“Oh! You did the logo right?” Flynn asks and then they’re talking about designs and colours and how sometimes a simple line drawing is better. Julie’s half listening, trying to feign interest but her eyes keep going to the side door that she knows leads to backstage, waiting for it to open.

Somehow, despite constantly looking, she still misses them coming out because suddenly a pair of arms are around Willie’s neck and a blonde head is pressing a kiss into his cheek. Julie looks up to find Luke already grinning at her, one hand rubbing at the back of his neck.

“Hey,” she thinks he’d have probably whispered it if they weren’t in a crowded club that’s started blaring music again.

“Hi,” and she waves.

God, why did she just wave at him? Before she can do something else embarrassing, like hiding her face in her hands, an arm appears around Luke’s neck and Reggie’s face is next to his grinning from ear to ear.

“You must be Julie.” Something about the way he says her names makes her want to run, like she’s walked into a trap without realising it. Instead she nods hesitantly.

“That’s me. You must be Reggie,” she tries to imitate the way he said her name but she’s not sure it works, but Luke elbows his friend in the side and then he’s sliding into the empty space next to her.

“I’m Alex. Ignore Reg. What he meant to say was we’ve heard a lot about you,” Alex smiles at her and there’s a teasing sort of tone in his words that makes her think she’s missing out on a joke. But she focuses on the other bit of information and turns to look at Luke.

“Aw, you’ve been talking about me?” She nudges his knee with her own, only realising just how close they’re sitting after the fact.

Luke shrugs at her, but he’s smiling and there’s a flush to his face that could be left over from their performance but she doesn’t think so, “Course I have.”

The simple way he says it, accompanied by the unbroken eye contact is enough to make her blush.

“I’m Flynn by the way. Julie’s best friend,” Flynn cuts through, leaning on the table to look directly at Luke who finally looks away from her and there’s definitely a flush on his cheeks.

“Did you uh, like the show?” He asks, and it’s to the table, but he glances at her.

“You guys were awesome, as always,” Willie says, lifting his hands that have been linked with Alex’s since the three boys sat down and presses a kiss to the back of it.

“You were better than I expected you to be,” Flynn shrugs and Alex lets out a disgruntled sound as he looks at her which starts a debate on what she thought they were going to be like. But Julie isn’t paying much attention and neither is Luke, because he’s looking at her expectantly for her answer.

She considers for a moment, tilting her head as she looks up at him, “You were–– you were amazing up there. More than amazing but I don’t know the word to describe it. All of you, but–– I liked watching you the most. You’re–– spectacular.”

“Really?” His eyes are searching her face, as if he can tell just by looking at her if she’s lying, but she just nods her head at him and smiles, he nods his head a little, biting his lip as he smiles too.

“Though I do have question why the fuck you’re wearing a beanie.”

“I told you it was stupid!” Reggie shouts and his hand is reaching across the table to hover in front of Julie’s face, waiting for a high five. Luke shakes his head at her, but she grins and claps her hand to the bassists.

“I thought we were friends,” Luke whines, a hand over his heart as he pouts at her.

“The beanie is so stupid,” is all she says, giggling as he pouts more and pulls the hat off his head, hair sweaty and a mess and she tries really hard not to look at his arms as he runs his fingers through the brown locks. Biting her lip again as she looks away, her eyes catch Alex’s who shoots her a knowing grin and she’s suddenly very grateful for the low lighting as she blushes.

“You really liked the show, though?” Reggie asks, bringing them back to the original question.

“You guys were great,” she smiles at him and Alex, “I especially like the drum solo in Lakeside Reflection? And oh my god the way you go back and forth in the bridge for Late Last Night, is amazing. Have you ever thought about mixing up the order you come in on it?”

She glances over at Luke as she says it, and there’s a moment, where their eyes meet when he’s got this soft sort of look on his face, like she’s once again handed him another puzzle piece and then she blinks and it’s gone and he launches into talking about their songs.

Later, after Flynn has unlocked her dorm room and the two of them have collapsed on her bed giggling and exhausted, Julie pulls her phone out of her bag and finally texts the number she saved hours ago back in the shop.

Luke replies within seconds and Julie clutches her phone to her chest with a giddy smile as Flynn teases her for being in love. She doesn’t even know what to say to deny it.

//

They start texting a lot after that. Silly memes they see and questions about if modern rock is better than classic and do different coloured roses mean different things.

It feels –– and Julie hasn’t said it out loud but she thinks it an awful lot –– like they’ve become real friends. Which makes it so much more awkward as her stupid crush on him grows. Because now he’s more than just the hot guitarist next door that she occasionally talks to. Now he’s Luke, the hot guitarist from next door who she talks to every day and is her friend.

Flynn just laughs at her, insisting there’s really no issue here and that she should just ask him out already so that she can sort out their social media situation without seeming pushy. Julie pointed out she could just offer but Flynn has said that would be weird.

And okay so, logically, Julie knows that he probably does like her. They’d spent the whole night after his show pressed together in that booth, knees touching and talking about whatever came to mind and she’d finally gotten a chance to look at the tattoo on his side.

(The detailed heart and a gramophone horn and the music notes that she’d hummed out loud. She could swear his eyes dipped to her lips as she did so and Julie had almost reached out to trace the lines inked into his skin. Instead she’d looked at his arm, at the tattoos littering his skin and listened as he explained some of them to her. The story of his life, really. She’d started tracing the outline of the guitar on his forearm, the year when he’d first met Alex and Reggie inked at the base, when she’d started talking.

“My mom had tattoos. We were supposed to go and get one together when I turned eighteen,” she’d trailed her finger tips up the neck and over the scrap of cloth attached to it, vaguely noting the way he seemed to shiver, “We had the designs all picked out and I promised her I’d still get mine. But… I’ve been putting it off,” she’d smiled ruefully up at him then, nose wrinkling.

Luke had put his hand over hers on his arm, thumb gently running over the back of her hand as he’d said, “When you’re ready to do it, book it for a Saturday.”)

And he’d started lingering on Tuesdays when he passed her her coffee, to talk about their weekends and if they had busy days and if she wanted to come watch them rehearse on Wednesday and how Bobby had apparently tried to reach out after the flowers. None of them had responded because now the ball was in their court and when they got to initiate the cutting off it was better.

And if she looks at it all. The little moments and touches and smiles and lingering looks, Julie logically knows that he likes her. But there’s still a chance, small as it might be, that he doesn’t.

And it terrifies her.

Surprisingly, or really, unsurprisingly, reassurance comes in the form of a drummer and bassist strolling into the shop on Tuesday morning two weeks after she saw them play for the first time. Julie smiles at them, albeit a little awkwardly, closing her pen in her notebook as she takes in the coffee holder in Alex’s hands and the way Reggie looks around the place in wonder.

She hadn’t seen Luke this morning, though he’d sent a text to say he was sick and wouldn't be around, but that doesn’t explain why she has two members of Sunset Curve in her shop.

“Hey guys, you need anything?” she raises an eyebrow at them, folding her hands on top of her notebook.

“Nah, just here to drop this off for Luke,” Alex smiles at her, freeing the coffee cup and putting it down in front of her.

Julie blinks at it, mouth parting slightly before looking back at Alex confused and chokes out, “What?

“He said he brings you coffee on Tuesday mornings and asked us to do it today because he’s being all dramatic in bed over the flu,” he rolls his eyes, but there’s a fond sort of tone in his voice that does little to help her confusion.

“But he–– I don’t…” Julie trails off as she frowns at the coffee. Luke was sick and he was still worrying about her getting her coffee? She feels like the world is spinning on a different axis.

“Can you make me a yellow bouquet for under $20?” Reggie pulls her out of her spiral and she blinks up at the two of them, catching the tail end of the glare Alex shoots at him and the shrug Reggie gives in response. But it pulls her out and she blows out a breath, pushing thoughts of Luke to the side as she nods.

“Any flowers in particular?” She asks.

Half an hour later the boys leave, with Reggie clutching his little posey of various yellow flowers –– that cost over $20 but if she could change Luke only $15 on a $50 bouquet, she could make an exception for the happiest bassist she’d ever met –– and Alex sniffing the twelve roses he’d bought for Willie. But not before they’d both leaned on the counter as she tied a bow around the posey and Alex had stated, “Luke’s pretty dumb sometimes.”

Julie had fumbled the ribbon as she looked at them confused.

“What we mean is,” Reggie cut in “He’s our best friend, and the best song writer we know. But when it comes to his feelings and doing something with them, he’s dumb. And always pretty terrified.”

She’s still thinking about it an hour later as she sweeps up cuts and hums along with the radio. She taps her pen on her notebook as she looks down at the page she had been doodling on, and then throws it down to pick up her phone. It only takes a few minutes of googling for the number she needs and ten minutes later she’s got plans for next Saturday at one thirty.

//

“Julie,” Victoria’s voice cuts through her thoughts and she turns from where she’d been staring at a bucket of sunflowers to blink at her tia.

“Hm?”

“You’re going to be late mi ciel,” and she nodded to next door, eyebrows raised. Blinking, Julie glances at her phone to check the time and swears.

“Fuck. Right. I’ll um, I’ll come show you when it’s done,” she smiles at her aunt who smiles back, dropping one eye in a wink before she gets out the door.

“Don’t worry about that. I’ll see it tomorrow at dinner,” Victoria blows her kiss before the door shuts and then Julie is on the sidewalk and Etched in Ink is eight steps away. Blowing out a breath she pushes her phone into the back pocket of her dungarees and walks.

When she opens the door there’s music playing faintly in the background and she smiles at how different it is from the last time she was stood here. This time she recognises the Sunset Curve poster on the wall and shakes her head at Luke’s shameless promoting. Like last time there’s no one at the front desk as she walks up to it, leaning her hip on the edge as she tilts her head to try and hear for someone in the back.

“Hello?” she calls and then there’s something crashing to the ground and someone letting out a string of curses before Luke comes stumbling through the archway and up to the desk looking breathless.

“Hey!”

She’s not as taken off guard by the sleeveless shirts and curling hair and teasing smirk as she was last time, but it still takes all her willpower to not just stare at him. Especially as he leans his hands on the desk, muscles and tattoos on display. She’s starting to think he does that on purpose.

“I have an appointment,” she breathes, looking at him and they’re so close she thinks she could count his eyelashes if she had time. God she wanted time to count his eyelashes.

“I know, I saw,” he smiles softly at her as pushes off from the desk and gestures for her to walk into the main room, “I was just getting things set up. Come on.”

Luke guides her with a hand on the small of her back over to the area he’s got set up, wagging his brows a little as she sits down that makes her laugh. Julie looks at the collection of inks and needles and bottles on the little tables next to her chair, chewing on her lip with a growing sense of trepidation.

“So,” Luke plots himself down on the stool, feet on the bar as he spins to face her with a smile, “You got a design for me to follow?”

“Oh! Yeah, right,” she sits up to dig through the front pocket of her dungarees and pull out a sheet of plain paper that’s been folded and refolded too many times to count over the last three years, she hands it to Luke, suddenly nervous about what he’ll think.

Carefully, as if he knows how important it is, he unfolds the sheet of paper and smooths it out on the arm of her chair, biting his lip as he looks it over and quietly, she can hear him humming the notes to himself as he tries to work out what the song is.

“It’s um––” Julie clears her throat as Luke looks up at her, gesturing to the drawing and starts singing faintly, “You are my sunshine.”

Luke looks at her with wide eyes and an expression she can’t quite understand and looks back at the page, quick to fill the silence, “Mom was going to get ‘my only sunshine’ but–– it’s what she used to sing to me when I was little and wouldn’t go to sleep, and it’s the first song I learnt on piano so it’s y’know, sentimental I guess.”

He still hasn’t said anything and Julie’s starting to get worried she’s done something wrong when he blows out a breath and blinks at her, small smile on his lips, “It’s beautiful.”

Then he turns to the table, gathering supplies and pulling on gloves and when he turns back to her he seems to have gotten control over his emotions again and is grinning at her, antiseptic wipe in one hand and numbing gel in the other.

“Are we feeling brave?” He teases and Julie rolls her eyes at him, laying her arm flat on the arm rest, wrist up and flipping him the finger before relaxing them back down.

“Just start stabbing me in the arm with a little needle Patterson.”

“Ooh brave it is huh.”

Gently, he holds her wrist with one hand as he cleans her skin and doesn’t let go when he turns to throw it away and to pick up the tattoo gun. His fingers tap on her palm as he looks at her, raising an eyebrow, “You ready?”

“Yeah,” she blows out a breath and nods at him. But he still hesitates for a heartbeat, searching her eyes before he smiles gently and brings the gun down to her skin.

At the first stab of pain Julie hisses in a breath, fingers of her other hand gripping at the spare armrest and when Luke looks up at her she nods her head with a smile that’s almost a cringe, “I’m okay. Keep going.”

And he does.

After a while it doesn’t hurt quite so much, and she loosens her grip on the arm of the chair. She still hisses in a breath on occasion but it’s bearable, and she can sort of understand why people like getting tattoos. It doesn’t hurt that from this position she has a clear view of his bare arms and can stare at them shamelessly for as long as his head is bent over her wrist.

“Is that––” Julie lets out a laugh, eyes squinting as she tries to peer a little closer as the tattoo above his elbow, “Is that a hotdog?”

“Huh? Oh,” he looks up, blinking at her and then at his arm, joining in with her laugh as he shakes his head. “Yeah. Me and the boy got wicked bad food poisoning from some bad dogs when we were seventeen. Almost died.”

Julie blinks at him and tries really hard to stop her laughter, but it keeps bubbling past her lips, “So you got a tattoo to commemorate the time you nearly died?”

“Yeah,” he shrugs, grinning at her before going back to work.

They make idle chit chat for the rest of her tattoo, talking about music they love and films they want to see and how Willie’s been trying to teach Alex to skateboard for 2 years and can still barely stand on the thing.

“And you’re done,” the buzzing suddenly cuts off and it takes Julie a moment to get used to lack of it, blinking at Luke who’s nodding down at her arm.

Carefully, slowly, she lifts up her arm to inspect his work. Five lines spanning the width of her wrist with little music notes dotted along it and she hums the tune to herself, blinking back the tears that fill her eyes as she just looks at it.

“It’s perfect,” she whispers, biting her lip as she looks at him. “Thank you.”

Luke shakes his head, pulling the gloves off his hands and balling them up before throwing them into the bin and picks up a roll of plastic wrap, tearing off a length to spread on the arm of the chair, patting it for her to put her arm back down on, “Nah, all I did was basically trace your work.”

“No for––” she gestures with her free hand around them, trying to encompass everything of the last two months. For the coffees and the laughter and the music and the conversation. “So much,” is what she settles on, and just hopes he gets it.

When he’s finished wrapping her wrist he trails his fingers up to her hand, squeezes her fingers once and then stands up, and she hurries to follow, not wanting him to let go of her hand just yet. Julie follows him back to the front of the shop, their fingers still linked and she tries to listen to him talk about aftercare and which creams are best and what to avoid. But all she can really think about is the calluses on his fingers and how she wants to know what they’d feel like brushing across her lips.

So Julie pulls them to a stop before they reach the desk, blowing out a breath as she looks up at him. She’s just gotten her first tattoo and only cried at the end, she’s feeling brave. She can ask the hot guitarist out.

“I was wondering if um you maybe–– if you wanted too––” she stutters, brows furrowing a little as she tries to get the words out and Luke just smiles at her, which isn’t helping. “Stop doing that with your face, I’m trying to ask you something,” she mutters.

It just makes him smile wider, and his fingers are detangling themselves from hers and she honest to god lets out a small whine at the sudden loss of contact. Luke’s smile turns into a smirk as he hears it, tailing his fingers up her arm and over her shoulder and up her neck and suddenly he’s cupping her cheek and Julie thinks she’s forgotten how to breath.

“Jules,” he whispers, leaning towards her and she can feel his breath ghosting across her face as she lets out a noncommittal sound, “Can I kiss you?”

A breath rushes out of her and her hands skim up his biceps and around his neck, “God please do.”

And he does.

It’s soft, just a press of their lips against each other at first and then Luke brushes his thumb across the top of her cheek and she lets out a sigh, pulling him closer as he slips his tongue into her mouth.

There’s teeth nipping at lips and her fingers running through his hair and Luke chuckling at her whine of protest when his lips leave hers to trail across her jaw, down her neck where he sucks and she moans and he has the audacity to laugh again.

So she pokes her fingers into his sides, grinning triumphantly when he tries to wiggle away, scrunching his nose up as he looks down at her.

“That’s rude,” he mutters, but there’s no heat behind it and he presses a kiss into the corner of her mouth.

“Hm, I’m sure I can think of some way to make it up to you,” Julie purses her lips, pretending to be in thought before leaning up on her tiptoes to kiss him, slowly, drawing it out.

When they break apart this time they’re both a little breathless and smiling giddy smiles.

“What were you going to ask me?” he whispers, brushing his nose across hers as he tries to pull her closer and it takes Julie a moment to understand what he’s asking, her mind blank on anything that’s not Luke lips on her skin or his fingers trailering over her neck.

“Oh. Um I was going to ask if you wanted to get dinner. With me. Like a date,” she wrinkles her nose at how awkward the question comes out but Luke leans back a little to grin down at her.

“Julie Molina, are you asking me out?”

“Oh shut up, you kissed me first,” she grumbles, tilting her head forward to hide in his chest and Luke laughs, she can feel it rumble in his chest and it makes her giggle a little too.

“Yeah I did. Best decision I’ve made since playing my demo way too loud,” he sounds proud and he presses a kiss into the top of her head, “I’d love to go get dinner with you.”

“Hm,” Julie agrees, trying to hide her smile in his terribly pointless shirt. Honestly, she’s never been more glad that he played his music too loud, it was totally worth the headache she had for the rest of the afternoon.

“Hey Luke,” she pulls back a little to look up at him, and he raises an eyebrow at her.

“Yeah?”

“Did I ever tell you I have a thing for guitarists with tattoos?” She smiles innocently up at him and is rewarded with the same curling smiling on his lips from the first time they met.

[ flower meanings: - pink peonies: passive aggressive anger - pink geraniums: stupidity - dark purple carnations: disappointment - meadoweed: uselessness - orange lilies: hatred (if i got any of these wrong please let me know i got my information from google fghdj) ]

ao3 link