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lumosinlove · 4 years ago

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Cw: mentions of drugs and mentions of past abuse

Previously On Relic Keel

Remus has started to associate sailing with Sirius Black ever since Sirius told him he watches his boat every morning. He thinks about how tired he is of knowing everything there is to know and wishes to leave the island.

Remus also starts his new job at the Hogwarts History Museum where he meets up with his friend Layla, whose family runs the museum, and whose brother, Lyall, Remus races sailboats against. On his way there, he reflects on the divide between Salazars and Godrics. He remembers Sirius at school, and how he was either celebrated or shunned with seemingly no pattern.

After their first shift at the museum, Layla takes Remus to The Lion for lunch, chastising Remus’ prejudices, and introduces him to Leo. Remus sees Leo’s rainbow bracelet and thinks about how badly he wants a boyfriend. We also learn that Luke is also gay, but that he and Remus have always been just friends.

Logan arrives at The Lion, too, is introduced, and listens in on Remus finding out a new exhibit on madness at the museum—the Lupins are known for going insane, but Remus’ mother mentioned nothing to Remus about this exhibit.

Leo learns that Logan is looking for someone (Finn). Logan reflects on a sleepy feeling that seemed to go away with his escape from the orphanage. Leo offers Logan a job, if he wants, and also tells him about The Voldemort.

The Voldemort is a boat from the eighteenth century that is said to have sank in The Cradle, a U shaped arrangement of islands just off of Hogwarts Southern Coast. Leo’s dad was close to finding it. Leo feels like he should want to find it, too, for his lost father.

Saint and Sirius arrive. Saint and Logan see each other for the first time in almost ten years, since Saint escaped when he was seven. Logan tells him that Finn got him out and Saint finds out that Logan sells Crucio.

Pascal, who owns the Lion with his wife Celeste, is introduced. He’s very close with Saint and Sirius, and he apparently knew Leo’s father before he went missing at sea. Saint learns that Logan is staying with Leo.

James and Remus arrive, looking for Dorcas who Thomas said might be selling Crucio to Luke. They’d like her to stop and are willing to pay. Logan takes advantage of this and, although he doesn’t sell to Luke, cons James out of 200 bucks.

Saint learns that Logan has gotten tangled up with The Carrows, the more dangerous of the two Crucio dealers, the other, safer one being Kasey Winter, in the hopes that they will help him get Finn out. Instead, he’s in their debt for using their Crucio himself.

Logan slips and calls Saint Bash. Saint refuses to help Logan get Finn out.

A/N: I super don’t speak Latin. And neither do my trees.

part v

Dorcas watched as Saint took his book from the floor of the back seat and flipped his sunglasses down.

“How long?” he asked. “And how do I keep getting stuck with this job?”

“Because Sirius is a better surfer than you are,” Dorcas replied. “And you know what, you can take off. Her parents are out of town for the weekend so her dad won’t be coming home or anything.”

Saint paused and raised an eyebrow. “And so I just drove you because…”

“I didn’t feel like walking?”

“Clever gal.”

Dorcas smiled. “I know.”

“Whatever, I need the car anyway.”

“What are you up to? I thought you were working at the Potters.”

“Just Sirius today,” Saint threw his book back into the rear seats. “I’ve got some detective work ahead of me.”

“Does this have anything to do with that little friend of yours that Sirius told me about?”

Saint rolled his eyes. “Of course he told you.”

“You know you two can’t keep secrets from me.”

“Don’t I.”

“See you later, babe,” Dorcas opened her door.

Saint gave her a salut as she headed around towards the dug-out fence.

Marlene had her paints out and her hair up in a bun when she pushed the window up and open for Dorcas.

“Luke’s here,” she said, and rolled her eyes as she turned away.

Dorcas froze in the window frame to see Luke with his feet crossed, laying on Marlene’s bed.

“Okay,” Dorcas said. “Can he leave?”

“Hey,” Luke said. “Cousin privileges.”

“Girlfriend privileges,” Dorcas said, shutting the window behind her. “Plus, can’t you go, like, toss a ball at a net with a stick or something?”

Luke rolled his eyes—not unlike his cousin. “I’m on a rest day. Plus, I’m off the team.”

“And whose fault is that?” Dorcas raised an eyebrow.

“He’s just getting out of the house for a bit,” Marlene said with a pointed look that Dorcas understood as he’s getting away from his mother.

“Plus,” Marlene continued. “He’s a good cover story.”

“I thought your dad wasn’t here.”

Marlene shook her head. “Came home early. Guess his newest gal pal didn’t like golf. He’s over at the club now.”

“What’s his deal, anyway?” Luke asked. He had reached over to the bedside table and put a bowl of what looked like mango slices onto his stomach. “With you two, I mean.”

“I am his little princess,” Marlene said dryly. “Not to be dated.”

“And a Salazar girl who lives in The Hollow?” Dorcas shook her head. “No deal.”

“Right,” Luke said. “Like that’s never happened before.”

Dorcas snorted and sat on the bed, too, stealing a few pieces of fruit. “Like you’re any better than the rest of them, Deveaux.”

“I am,” Luke said. “I don’t hate Salazars.”

“But you hate Hollows.”

Luke grinned. “I don’t hate them, either. They hate me, and what am I gonna do about their jealousy? That’s their issue.”

“God, you’re an asshole,” Dorcas sighed.

“He’s really not though,” Marlene stepped back as she regarded the painting she was working on. Luke’s face looked back out at them from the canvas. “He just likes to make-believe.”

“Could have fooled me and my friends.”

“He’s a great actor,” Marlene agreed, then stuck her tongue out at Luke. “I just happen to have known him before he learned how.”

“All right, fuck you both,” Luke grumbled, and ate another piece of mango.

“Believe me,” Dorcas said. “We’re not jealous of you.”

Luke raised an eyebrow. “You can’t tell me you wish you didn’t have to sell Felix to make a little more money?”

Dorcas narrowed her eyes. “Like you and your money live such a great life.”

Luke looked away, jaw tight.

“Yeah,” Dorcas said. “I’d take Crucio and the friends I have over that any day.” After a moment of hesitation, she looked down and mumbled. “And by the looks of your little habit, so would you.”

“Fuck you, Meadowes,” Luke snarled. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“All right, all right,” Marlene said, tilting her head as she added color to Luke’s cheeks in her painting. “Cool it, kids. Take a chill pill. Knock it down a notch. Luke, why don’t you go get us some pizza or something? Or maybe pick up from Thomas’. I crave his nachos, holy cow. Also, tell him to come hang out later tonight, if he can.”

Luke held Dorcas’ eyes for a moment, then pushed himself up from the bed. “Pepperoni, you?”

“Pineapple and ham, thanks,” Marlene said, and smiled at Dorcas as she patted his back out the door.

“Hi,” Marlene laughed once the door closed behind him. She walked into Dorcas’ arms. She took Dorcas’ face between her hands and peppered kisses to her mouth. “How are you?”

“Worried about basically all of our friends,” Dorcas laughed. “And that one, I guess, too.”

“Tell me about it,” Marlene sighed, laying down on the bed and eating a slice of mango. Dorcas mirrored her position. “No, seriously, if you want to talk about it, I’m all ears. I mean, I’ve got Luke who, one, needs to get out of his house, and two, needs someone to love, like, God, I wish he had a boyfriend. I just want him to get off this island, go to college, and meet the sweetest human in the world, you know?” Marlene sighed again, eyes far away. “He doesn’t act like he deserves that, but…it’s really his family he didn’t deserve. He’s all torn up about his dad, but his dad’s…a schemer. You know? And his mom, don’t even get me started.”

“Maybe he can still meet someone here,” Dorcas replied, and reached out to brush Marlene’s hair away from her face with a smile. “You never know. We didn’t. How long did we spend on this island without knowing each other existed?”

Marlene’s smile faltered in a way that Dorcas was beginning to recognize. It worried her.

“What?” Dorcas asked softly.

Marlene tilted her head. “Hm?”

“You keep doing that,” Dorcas said, tracing a thumb over one corner of Marlene’s mouth. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong,” Marlene said. “I was just thinking about Luke. I mean, my parents sucks but at least they’re…”

Dorcas raised an eyebrow. “Not in jail?”

“Yeah, I don’t know where I was going with that,” Marlene laughed. She scooted closer, letting Dorcas hitch her thigh over her hip, Dorcas’ thumb rubbing idly over her soft skin. “Now what are you worrying about, lover?”

“Sirius,” Dorcas began. “I don’t know he just…he’s never seemed…happy? Saint. He’s trying so hard to be happy that I know he’s not. And now there’s Logan which I think stirred up a lot of Saint Clair stuff for him. I mean, Jesus, how do we not know what’s up with that place?”

“Gods are good at not paying attention,” Marlene said solemnly.

“Saint never takes that damn cross off,” Dorcas said. “I mean, wouldn’t you want to let it go?”

“Sorry, who’s Logan? He got out? As in escaped? Like Saint did?”

Dorcas nodded. “I haven’t talked to Saint about it yet. Me and Sirius are gonna tag-team later, make him let it out.”

Marlene looked suspicious. “Good luck.”

“We have our ways,” Dorcas laughed. “And Logan…He deals. I know him a little. Not really.”

Marlene nodded, going quiet at the mention of Crucio as she always did.

“I like what it gives me,” Dorcas said gently. “Freedom, Marls. More than any other job here could. At least any job that I could get. And its from Kasey, who makes it safely. Unlike the Carrows. So—”

“You don’t have to explain,” Marlene said, and pushed herself closer. “I know. Really, I know. I’m proud of you. I just wish there wasn’t as much risk.”

“Like the police do anything about it,” Dorcas sighed, running a hand through Marlene’s hair. “They probably like the revenue it brings for the island.”

“Yeah,” Marlene sighed.

“Well,” Dorcas said. “We probably have at least twenty minutes before Deveaux returns with the pizza…”

Marlene smiled and pushed Dorcas’ hat off, leaning over her on the bed. “Oh? Twenty minutes you say?”

Saint parked the Jeep between two trees in an overgrow section of a Salazar road. He knew where The Carrows lived. It was difficult to miss their house. Saint could practically smell the gold and diamonds. He felt like he smell the Crucio, too, the rubber bands and the plastic bags, and the sickly sweet powder.

There was no one outside. The whole grandiosity looked strangely deserted.

Saint reached into the rear again for the latest book he had borrowed from James. Frankenstein. Not one he hadn’t read before, but a good one none the less.

“Don’t know why you want that one,” James had said when he handed it over. They had both been hot from working in the sun—Saint on the lawn, James on his backhand. “I had to write a book report on that in, like, what, ninth grade? Oof.”

“Beluis amicitiam,” Saint had replied.

“How the fuck do you know Latin?” James had said. “You aren’t even at our school.”

“You gave me a book on Latin.”

James nodded. “Right.”

“Well?” Saint had asked. “You’re at school. What’d I say?”

James squinted one eye shut. “Beast…friends?”

Saint had laughed. “Literally, sure.”

Saint opened the book now, rolling the window down in the stuffy car. The AC was broken.

“Monsters like company,” he said aloud into the small space and settled down to wait.

Lily didn’t expect to find herself painting an old boat with James Potter on a Saturday afternoon, but painting she was. She dipped the fat brush into the blue paint, trying to wipe her hair out of her face without getting blue in it.

“Still doing okay over there, Lils?”

Lily looked up to see James’ head pop out over the upside-down bow.

“All good,” Lily nodded. “You?”

James smiled. “Yeah. Thanks for helping me out.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Lily said. “Just working on my tan.”

James’ head appeared again, only this time his expression was incredulous. “We both know we both burn.”

Lily laughed. “I guess so.”

The Potter’s had their own, small beach in front of their property, and Lily dug her feet down into the sand, looking at the inviting ocean.

She felt all too awkward after their talk a few nights ago. She had been brash, and almost cruel at some points. James was—good. But she didn’t want to end up like her mother. She didn’t want to stay for someone, like her mother had for her father, and regret it, like she could tell her mother did sometimes.

And if she had wanted someone to come out into the world with her, she couldn’t have picked a worse candidate. James was a Potter, and the Potters were Hogwarts Island’s beating heart. Their money was in every part of this island. Every grain of sand, every brick. Hogwarts Academy, whose headmaster was James’ father.

If Lily loved James, she’d never escape.

And the problem was, she did love James.

“So, I was thinking about doing a movie night or something,” James said from the other side of the boat. “Put a sheet up and a projector. We could lay it all out on the lawn, or by the pool. Get some candy and popcorn and shit, invite everyone.”

Lily cleared her throat. “Yeah, that sounds cool.”

James was at the front now, painting the boat’s nose. “Any suggestions or requests?”

Lily smiled. “Is it too cheesy to do Pirates of The Caribbean?”

James laughed. “Hell no. There’s no better place!”

Lily shrugged. “Then definitely that. Oh, Will Turner.”

James snorted. “Yeah, can’t say no to that.”

Lily smiled at him, and shifted closer to the other side of the bow.

“So, how’s your common-app going?” James asked. “These essays are sort of killing me. I mean, you’re staring out a window. What do you see? What the fuck kind of prompt is that? That’s what’s going to get me into college?”

Lily laughed. “Not to mention asking me why I want to go somewhere. They’re basically forcing me to make something dramatic up.”

“Right. If I’m being, you know, honest, I feel simple, and if I’m embellishing, I feel fake.”

Lily looked up at him. “Exactly. No, that’s—exactly.”

They smiled at each other, paintbrushes poised.

“I don’t know,” James sighed finally. “I’m—I’m sort of worried, Lils.”

“What about Lacrosse?” Lily asked.

James nodded. “That’s what my dad says. And, yeah, I love it, but…sometimes I wonder if it’s more that I love who I’m playing with. Luke, Remus, Thomas.”

Lily nodded, eyes flitting over his face which had gone serious and tense. “Right. No, that makes sense. But J, you’re so smart. And kind.”

James’ smile was small, but his eyes, when he looked at her, were fond. “Not as smart as you. And I can’t get a degree in kindness.”

Lily hummed, thinking. College was a sensitive topic for everyone it seemed. What was supposed to be one of the best parts of their lives was all uncertainty and vagueness. She thought of Marlene, and how she hadn’t told Dorcas about her early-decision acceptance yet. This seemed to be all goodbyes and leave-behinds.

“Sorry,” James cleared his throat. “That was a downer thing to say.”

Lily shook her head. “I’m starting to think college is just a downer thing.”

James smiled, and, even though it was something that had only been gone for a moment, Lily found that she had missed it. James was so bright. “Yeah.”

Lily knew that she was going to say goodbye to James in a year. But for the first time, she wondered how she knew, and when she had decided.

“You’re going to be amazing, Lils,” James said softly. She could tell that they were both thinking of their conversation. He looked down at her with his hazel eyes. “Really, you are.”

Lily meant to say thank you.

Instead, she leaned forward and kissed him. James’ body tensed, and then relaxed. His mouth opened beneath hers and she cupped his cheek, her other palm splayed on his chest. He was warm from the sunlight. He made a soft sound and tilted his head to kiss her again, hand between her shoulders. Then, he pulled back, their foreheads together. There was paint on his chest from Lily’s paintbrush. Blue, right over his heart.

“Lils,” James gasped. He wrapped a gentle hand around her wrist. “Lils, mixed messages, mixed messages…”

He was out of breath. Lily had made him that way. Her own heart was beating out of her chest.

“You’re right,” Lily breathed, and stepped away, drawing a fallen strap of her tank top up her shoulder. “You’re right, God, sorry.”

“No, it’s,” James began. “I mean, that was nice. Really nice.”

Lily sent him a wavering smile over her shoulder. “Yeah. Sorry about—” the paint. Everything.

She watched James out of the corner of her eye as he passed his hand through his hair a few times. This time, he came to stand beside her as they worked quietly.

It only took Lily a few moments to not be able to stand it any more. The feeling of him so close, of wanting him the way she did. He was gentle. He kissed in a way that made her want to melt. He had made her laugh, that night that they spent together, in between those kisses and gentle touches.

“Why did you ask me to do this with you, James?” Lily said. “I mean—aren’t you mad at me?”

James didn’t respond for a moment, but finally turned.

“What, we can’t be friends?” he asked.

“I wasn’t very nice to you the other night,” Lily said, and then groaned. “And—I mean, I feel awful about it but…you understand, don’t you?"

“I’m not here to tie you down, Lily,” James said, eyes firm behind his glasses. “If that’s what you think friends do…I don’t know what to tell you.”

“You’re not my friend,” Lily burst out, and then covered her eyes. “I mean—you are. But you’re…”

“It’s fine, Lils,” James said. When Lily looked up, he was shaking his head and stooping to dip his brush again. “Really, let’s just…let’s paint and tan. I’ll get us some sunscreen.”

“James—”

“You kissed me and then you said we weren’t friends. Forgive me if I’d rather stay where we are than go farther or backwards into those two territories that you seem to not want.”

Lily blinked.

James glanced at her, then away. “I should probably be asking you to leave. But I don’t want to lose you. Not yet. Not now, not if you really think that’s so inevitable.”

Lily stared at him. He was looking resolutely at his work, jaw tight. He looked beautiful, even when he was sad and overwhelmed. Lily was so angry at herself.

She didn’t want to lose him, either.

She timed her paint strokes to his, and they worked beside each other quietly.

Saint didn’t find what he expected to find.

Instead of Logan coming up the path, Luke Deveaux passed right by his car and open window.

Luke looked down in passing, probably expecting to see an empty vehicle, and then did a double take when, instead, he found Saint sitting there, Frankenstein in one hand, balanced on the steering wheel, and the other elbow resting out the window.

“Hello, tweedle,” Saint said.

Luke stopped walking. He had a gray t-shirt on with a large, navy Nike swoop on it, and black running shorts. Earbuds dangled around his neck, tangled in the two fine gold chains that hung there and trailing all the way into his pocket, where Saint could see the weight of his phone. He was sweaty, as though he had run here from Godric.

“What?” Luke said.

“Bad move,” Saint replied. “Taking your hit from The Shining twins.”

Luke just stared at him. He pushed his sweaty hair out of his eyes. Saint smiled. He liked Deveaux when he was caught off guard. This had never happened before.

“Well—” Luke began. “You’re here, too.”

“Not like that.”

Luke narrowed his eyes. “You said you didn’t deal.”

“I don’t.”

“So,” Luke’s eyes flit around the Jeep’s exterior. “You just sit in junk cars and read—” Luke looked forward. “Shelley?”

Saint frowned in approval and squinted back towards the house. “You say that almost as if you’ve read it.”

“I have.”

“What, in your ninth grade book report?”

“No, with my—” Luke turned his head away, mouth clamping shut.

“I see,” Saint said after a moment. “A bit of a strange parental bonding choice, but all right.”

“Fuck off,” Luke said. “And what the fuck did you call me?”

That was when Saint spotted Logan. He sat up and unlocked the Jeep doors with a click.

“Get in,” Saint said.

Luke scoffed. “Fuck off.”

“That’s the second time you’ve said that in five seconds. Get in, tweedle, or I’ll tell your mother about your candy addiction.”

To Saint’s slight surprise—he was used to people being drawn to him—that seemed to work and Luke complied, but he walked slowly, distrustfully, around the bonnet before sliding into the passenger seat.

Logan was coming up a different path, one stemming from the back of the house to what looked like a side door.

“She wouldn’t care,” Luke said as he slammed the door.

“You in my passenger seat says differently,” Saint said, and glanced at Luke’s wrist. “Nice watch.”

It was gold and glittery. It looked like it had probably been his father’s, and by no means looked like it should be worn on a run.

“Your car smells like wet dog.”

“I don’t have a dog,” Saint replied, eyes on Logan. He had knocked and was waiting now.

“I was talking about Black.”

Saint glanced at him. “You’re funny, Galileo.”

Luke just shook his head, bringing his t-shirt up to wipe his forehead. “Stop calling me tweedle—you think I’m dumb?”

Saint laughed. “No.”

“All right,” Luke put a hand on the door. “I’m getting out.”

“No,” Saint said, and grabbed Luke’s arm, fingers wrapping around his wrist. “Stay here or you’ll blow this for both of us.”

Luke shook him off and Saint pushed his door open. He began his stride up towards the house without looking back. He wondered if Luke was a snoop. The thought made him smile.

Logan saw him when he was half-way to the door, and rolled his eyes, shoving his hands out in an effort to silently say go back.

“Hello, number ten,” Saint said, leaning beside the door. “Now, who are you waiting for?”

“Saint, don’t.”

“Look, I’m hoping it was me, and if so, your ride’s here.” Saint narrowed his eyes. “Let’s go.”

“What do you care if I’m here?”

Saint looked at Logan’s backpack, the one that was always filled with Crucio. Even at the sight of it he imagined that he could feel the sweet, sleepiness that occupied his nights at the orphanage.

The door opened.

“Oh, look,” Amycus said, resting a hand on the door. “Haven’t seen you in a while. What is it you’re calling yourself these days? Saint.”

“Hello, Amy,” Saint smiled. “Nice to see you, we’re going now.”

“You can’t,” Amycus snarled. “He owes us.”

“I’m sure you haven’t lost that much,” Saint said back evenly.

“Oh yeah?” Amycus laughed. “Why don’t we take a look at green-eyes here’s subconscious. You want something bad enough, you like something enough, something feels good enough, then there comes a point where you don’t even know how far you’ve gone to get it. How much Felix have you taken, do you think, Tremblay?”

Logan just looked down.

“See?” Amycus cocked his head. “He doesn’t know. Which means I make make up whatever number I like.”

Saint nodded, thoughtful. “Interesting. What number is that?”

Amycus just grinned. “Your friend here will know when I tell him.”

“Bullshit,” Logan snapped, and Saint held up a hand.

“We’re going now, and you know what?” Saint leaned in. “You don’t know shit about what he wants.”

“Come back without your handler, Tremblay,” Amycus called after them.

Back at the car, Saint could see Luke reading Frankenstein through the windshield.

“Who’s that?”

“Who you got your two hundred bucks for,” Saint murmured.

“What about the two hundred more you just cost me?”

“You’re welcome,” Saint said, and motioned to Luke to get out.

“And what exactly was I supposed to get out of this?” Luke said, crossing his arms.

“A chit-chat with yours truly,” Saint replied. “Logan, get in the car.”

Logan glared, but took Luke’s place in the passenger seat.

Saint slid back into the driver’s side, took Logan’s backpack from him, and slung it into the back seat.

“Oh,” Saint leaned out his window. “And I’m sure you can go right up now.”

“I’m sure I can,” Luke tossed Saint the book. “Don’t forget Potter’s book. Did you steal it, or what?”

If only he knew, Saint thought.

“Bye, Luke,” Saint called as he turned out of the grove and down the street. He looked in his review mirror and smiled at the sight of Luke standing, framed in it. Then, he put his arm lazily on the steering wheel and let Luke’s golden watch flash in the sunlight on his wrist.

“You didn’t have to fucking—fetch me,” Logan grumbled.

“Yes, I fucking did.”

Logan turned towards him in his seat, and for a moment Saint thought he was going for his backpack, but Logan just looked at him.

“Look,” Logan said.

“I’m driving.”

Logan ignored him.

“There’s a treasure,” Logan said instead. “Leo told me about it. He thinks his dad knows where it is—The Cradle? Look, I—If we can get it—”

“Oh, good,” Saint sighed. “He sells Crucio and he’s a Voldemort tourist.”

Logan blinked. “You know about it?”

Saint scoffed. “Of course I know about it. Everyone knows about it, Logan.”

“Fine, but—if we can get it, then I can pay off—”

“I’m sorry, excuse me, excuse me,” Saint held up a hand, one on the wheel. The houses went from the tall mansions of Salazar to the workshop rows of Helga, to the low houses of The Hollow. “Did you or did you not just place all of your hopes of freedom on a long lost, legendary treasure.”

“Bash—Saint.”

“Answer the question.”

“It’s not my hope, it’s just an option.”

Saint just shook his head. “I don’t know what to tell you.”

“Come on,” Logan urged as Saint stopped the car in front of The Lion. “Isn’t there something you want? Something that much gold could get you?”

“Come to think of it, there isn’t that much I want, no.”

Logan paused, and then said, “Then, is there something you hate?”

When Saint didn’t reply for enough time, Logan took his backpack and got out of the car.

Sirius had dreamed about his little brother last night. Only, he had been on Wolfsbane, and Regulus had been on shore. There had been someone else in the boat, too, someone expertly pulling the ropes and taking Sirius farther out to sea. The wind had been warm.

Sirius had woken up thinking about Remus Lupin.

His entire day was thrown off.

Sirius looked over at Saint. “Are we going to talk about it?”

Saint had his head in Dorcas’ lap and his eyes closed. “Pardon?”

Dorcas and Sirius glanced at each other. “Logan.”

“We were at Saint Clair together. What else is there to say?”

“Maybe how he got out.”

“And why,” Dorcas added, running a hand through Saint’s hair. “It might help if you talked about that place more.”

“I’m good, thanks.”

Sirius groaned. “Saint. Come on, that kid looked freaked talking to you and then he bolted. What’s up?”

Saint sighed, his face opening up into a rare moment of softer eyes, and he sat up, nearly facing away from the both of them.

Sirius listened to the crickets outside. Before, he had just wanted to know about the orphanage. Now, he wanted Saint to not have to keep it all inside.

“When I arrived when I was five, Logan and Finn were already there,” Saint said finally. “And its not like its this horrible place. We have beds and food and we go to school together. We have friends. But we’re also locked away. The nuns are strict. The punishments are old-fashioned. A slap. A few days in solitude. The problem is…”

Sirius got up from his perch on the window and sat beside Saint on the ratty old couch they had dragged in. Saint didn’t look at him, but let him and Dorcas lay gentle hands on him, Dorcas’ on his back, Sirius’ one of his crossed ankles.

“I watched kids turn eighteen,” Saint said, voice steely. “And they’d be packing their bags and then—unpacking them.”

“They,” Dorcas began. “You mean they decided to stay?”

Saint just shook his head slowly. “I still haven't completely figured it out. I think—maybe Crucio has something to do with it. It’s the only thing I can think of that would make them stay. I keep having this—this memory of being so tired at night. And these dreams.”

“The plant Crucio is made out of has Melatonin in it,” Dorcas said, brow creased. “It influences the dreaming. The hallucinations.”

“So, what?” Sirius asked. “They stay for Crucio, you think?”

“They work some,” Saint said. “Around the island. But, yeah. They stay.”

“You think they’re bringing money back?” Dorcas asked gently. “To the orphanage?”

Saint shrugged. “I told you. I haven’t completely figured it out. But I’d rather figure it out from the outside. Even when I was seven, I knew something was wrong. But I was older when I arrived. Finn and Logan had been there since they were too young to recognize something like that. They didn’t know anything else.”

“And…you do?” Sirius asked faintly. Saint had never brought up remembering anything about his prior life, his family.

Saint laughed faintly and got up. “Who knows. That’s the thing about memories, right? We tend to make them worse, or make them better.” Sirius watched him go to the sink and turn it on and off. He opened the refrigerator and then closed it. Finally, he stilled.

“But I hate them,” Saint said, almost to himself. “I hate them for making anything feel real.”

Sirius opened his mouth to respond when Dorcas’ phone lit up with a loud ping.

She picked it up. “From Marlene. Apparently we’re invited to a movie night at Potter’s house.”

“Of course we are,” Sirius sighed, and got up and wrapped his arms around Saint from behind. “What do you feel like?”

Saint looked at him over his shoulder. “Well, how could I ever pass that up?”

When Logan didn’t find Leo at The Lion, he went to the Knut’s workshop instead. He’d been in there a handful of times now. It was a crowded room, walls-to-ceiling tools and cupboards that organized different found objects. Sea-glass and shards of blue china. There was large glass jars of things like compasses or pieces of weather vanes hanging by woven rope plant holders from the ceiling. There was a forge that was cool now, and there was a long work bench.

He found Leo on the work bench with the garage door open to the street, shirtless and welding something together.

“Oh,” Logan said instead of announcing himself.

Leo looked up, then back down, sparks flying around him. “Hey, what’s up?”

Logan walked a few steps inside and set his backpack—which was still empty—down.

“I want to help you,” he said.

The sparks stopped and Leo pushed his welding mask up. He was sweaty, his cheeks flushed from the heat. “What? With this?”

Logan rolled his eyes and walked in to straddle the other end of the work bench. “The treasure. We need to find the treasure. Think how rich we’d be.”

Leo stared at him for a long moment, then took his mask off and set his equipment down. For a moment, his face looked thunderous. Logan thought he was about to tell him to get out, but the storm dissipated.

“This isn’t a joke to me,” Leo said evenly after another pause. “And it’s not some greedy game, either. That’s not why my dad looked for things like this. He loved history.”

Logan blinked. “You—you don’t want the money?”

Leo rolled his eyes. “Of course I do. What do you think the finder gets?”

“Then what are you saying?”

“I’m saying don’t make me regret telling you. I’m saying my dad was never one to just pawn things off. He wanted things like that on display, for people to learn from.”

“How very, very noble and grand,” came another voice, and they both looked up to see Saint standing there. He had changed since the last time Logan had seen him. He was wearing a t-shirt that said New Orleans Saints.

“Saint?” Leo said.

“Hi there,” Saint gave a little salute. “I have a movie night to go to, apparently, a nice little godly sleepover, but I thought I’d stop by.”

“What are you doing…” Logan began warily.

“Well, come to think of it, there is something I hate.”

Leo tilted his head. “What is he talking about?”

“Not to mention,” Saint continued, and touched the bottom of the hanging compasses. He studied one, then looked at them and grinned.

“I do like gold,” Saint said.

169 notes · View notes

ridiculousimplicity · 3 years ago

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Heartstopper Ep3

Oh, so her name's Imogen! Hehehe.. She clearly has a crush on Nicholas. 😊 Those purple hearts were adorable.

OMG! He asked Charlie if he'd accompany him to the party! 🤩

I feel sorta sad for Tao because he really wanted to hang out with his besties tonight & sadly two of them couldn't make it. Aww..

Haha.. Charlie & Nick looking for each other in that crowded party was heart poundingly cute!

Okay, seriously, that Harry needs to take a chill pill.

ATTENTION: Charlie don't go. Do Not Assume Nick Likes Tara. Do. not. Assume! 😥

Aww.. Okay, so now Nick knows Tara is a lesbian and has a girlfriend too. Gods, Tara and Darcy are sweet too. Hehehe..

Aww.. considering that Nick has finally accepted that he feels much better around Charlie, it goes without saying that Charlie is his best friend. :D

Harry, you little -- dumbass.. I have never understood why people make fun of someone’s feelings/crush on someone. Recently, I watched this movie called A Whisker Away (you can catch it on Netflix. Lovely animation and a sweet story) and **spoilers ahead** it had a scene where a classmate of the female lead snatched her letter (which she’d written for her crush) and read it out loud in front of the whole class, including her crush and kept laughing in between. It was truly nerve wracking and painful to watch it. The female lead says in a broken voice to not “make fun of her feelings.” And that truly was heartbreaking. You could see the subtle way the insolent boy reacted to her words (he must’ve felt ashamed) but still went on to ask the male lead (the crush) how he’d respond to her confession. **spoiler ended**

Anyway, that scene reminded me how fucking cruel people can be when they don’t have anyone to teach them compassion and kindness.

And this scene where Harry is making fun of Charlie’s supposed crush on Nick is disgusting. It makes it even worse because he assumes that everyone will laugh, nod and agree with him about how pitiful Charlie is just because he’s gay. I am furious!

Well, that was valiant of Nick and truly remarkable of him to walk out from there. We shouldn’t tolerate such disgusting things either, guys. Harry must’ve been feeling like he’s on a pedestal, thinking he’s joking while he really was being downright cruel.

Onto lighter matters, it’s so sweet to see this bond between Tao and Elle. (somebody give me tissues *tearing up*) I agree with Elle.

“Sometimes change is a good thing.”

EXCUSE ME! Okay, people, listen! If anyone ever comes to you and says

“I’m sorry about what happened. Have you finished sulking about it?”

then you have the right to get the fuck outta there like the hellhounds are on your tail! Alright?

Like Joe says to Mia in Princess Diaries “ Nobody can make you feel inferior without your consent.”

You. Have the right to feel. What you feel!

If the other person is sane and courteous and compassionate enough to approach you properly, basically way better than how Ben does to Charlie, then you know you can have a decent discussion to sort out what’s going on. Otherwise, NOPE!

Imogen is really pretty. I like how her eyes shimmer in those disco dancing lights!

What?! OMG!! Yes! Considering the title of the episode I thought (yes, wishful thinking *rolling my eyes*) that maybe Charlie and Nick might share a kiss, no matter how small, doesn’t have to be on the lips either. I’m even more happy to see Tara and Darcy embracing the party and finally feeling free enough to share a kiss here, among the crowds! Oh god! It was so utterly sweet too!

Also Nick witnessed that moment and felt happy and a sort of admiration for them showed how maybe it’s not too bad to discover and embrace new things about himself.

Yes! Nick found Charlie finally! Ohohoho.. You know the minute Charlie mentioned Ben, you can see Nick’s face fall. Like he is scared that Charlie will slip away. Ahhhhhhhhh..

Bro, how big is this house?!?

OMG! I love snarky Nick! :D

First of all, I loved how Nick is so vulnerable and open with Charlie and the questions leading up to the kiss were so soft spoken and even more softly answered. And the kiss! Sweet lord, I held my breath all through it, because this nasty part of my brain kept saying someone will interrupt this beautiful moment and ruin it with their disgusting opinions and whatever reactions and Charlie’s heart will be broken and Nick will heartbroken too and then there will be a much bigger chasm for the both of them to find their way back to each other!

Thankfully, whatever I expected didn’t happen and I was so glad that they kissed again! Their little pinkies intertwining was such a small detail but a meaningful one! And Nick went on to hold Charlie’s hand and I felt my heart soar at that!

BUT! Harry literally broke the trance. That little shit!

God, the way Nick got up as if he was burned or afraid of being walked in on, gave my second hand flashbacks of Charlie sort of going through the same with Ben. Ugh... This fear has got to stop!

Oh god! Charlie’s overthinking and assuming things again. (T_T)

Waaaaaaa--- Nicholas is here?! (0.0)

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kitkat1003 · 4 years ago

Text

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.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

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.

“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.

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.

#lego monkie kid #monkie kid #possession au #monkie kid mk #sun wukong #monkie kid monkey king #monkie kid mei #monkie kid red son #red son #kitkat1003

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artzychic27 · 4 years ago

Text

Akuma Class Musicals Headcanons

Marinette is a Broadway Baby, and LOVES love songs like Once You See, Baptize Me, Fight For Me, Stupid With Love, etc.

Her favorite musicals are Hamilton, Dear Evan Hansen, Emojiland, Mean Girls, SIX, Waitress, and Grease

She mostly prefers musicals based on History, (Hamilton, Bonnie and Clyde, Hadestown, SIX)

She likes to cosplay as her favorite characters and has a Tumblr dedicated to it. Over 2K followers

When someone utters just a few lyrics to a song, she will sing the entire thing

Random person: It’s just so-

Marinette: Great to be alive! Peace, thumbs up, pound, okay, high five!

Tikki loves SIX. She’s actually met the queens, and she HATES Henry

Alix likes Girl Power songs like Put You In Your Place, I’d Rather Be Me, Princess is a Bitch, and all the songs from SIX, and I Say No

She’s not every open about her love for Musicals, but she will sing when no one is around.

Only Nathaniel has heard her sing

She’ll often hum while roller skating

Nino’s favorite musicals are Hamilton, Footloose, Grease, Be More Chill, School of Rock, and Jagged Little Pill

He likes to make remixes of the songs

He memorized the choreography and the melodies

Only Marinette and Kim know this- Nino knows the entire choreography to Candy Store, and they won’t let him live it down

Alya’s favorite musicals are Hamilton, Superhero, SIX, The Lightning Thief, and Sister Act

She joins Marinette in on her cosplay

If someone is singing one of her favorite songs, she likes to record them

Adrien’s favorite musicals are Hamilton, Mamma Mia, Dear Evan Hansen, The Addams Family, Newsies, Wicked, The Book of Mormon, and Hadestown

Plagg: Big deal, I met the real Hamilton and Joseph Smith. And they can NOT sing.

Gabriel actually allows him to see the shows live, since it’s “Good for his image.”

Adrien prefers duets, and the first people he’ll ask to sing with him will be either Marinette or Nino

Adrien/Nino: Our friendship goes beyond your average kind of bond!

Adrien: But not because we’re gay!

Nino: No, not because we’re gay!

Alix: WOOO!

Kim’s favorites are Spongebob, Heathers, Rent, Emojiland, Grease, and You’re a Good Man Charlie Brown

He likes to sing them in Vietnamese

He loves karaoke nights, and likes to dare people to sing duets with him (Alix will gladly take that dare)

He got REALLY into Princess is a Bitch. He even did the splits

But he doesn’t compare to Nathaniel. Seriously, that boy needs a leash whenever he hears his favorite songs

His favorite songs are Dead Girl Walking, Say No To This, Princess is a Bitch, Candy Store, World Burn, Never Shut up Again, Land of Lola, Pitiful Children, the Squip Song, etc.

Basically any song he can really get into

He will take of his jacket and flirt with the boys in his class, and Alix will cheer him on. Mylène and Alya got a little jealous when they saw Ivan and Nino blushing after he sang Dead Girl Walking

Nathaniel: Let’s go, you know the drill! I’m hot, and pissed, and need my fill! Bow down to the will of a dead boy walking!

Boys: ... Damn.

His favorite Musicals are Eugenius, Death Note, Superhero, Be More Chill, the Addams Family, Wicked, Falsettos, Little Shop of Horrors, and Heathers

He likes to draw the characters from the shows whenever he’s not making his classmates blush

Rose’s favorites are Seussical, Annie, Emojiland, Spongebob, You’re a Good Man Charlie Brown, Legally Blonde, Waitress, and The Prom

She and Juleka like to sing duets between Alyssa and Emma (Cuz... Lesbians)

She and Kim like to sing New Crown in Town

Juleka’a favorites are Death Note, Beetlejuice, the Addams Family, Carrie, and Little Shop of Horrors, and The Prom

‘Cuz... Lesbians

Max’s favorite musicals are Be More Chill, Emojiland, The Guy Who Didn’t Like Musicals, and Little Shop of Horrors

Basically anything with the apocalypse, aliens, and evil super computers

Chloé loves any musical with a mythic bitch or a badass blonde, so Heathers, Bring It On, Mean Girls, Emojiland, Legally Blonde

Her favorite song will always be Candy Store

She may or may not have asked Marinette to make her a Heather Chandler costume she could wear to Broadway Con

Sabrina favorites are Little Shop of Horrors, Rent, Falsettos, Hadestown, Tuck Everlasting, The Lightning Thief, and Annie (‘Cuz red hair)

She and Chloé will often go and see the shows live in New York with Audrey

Ivan’s favorite Musicals are The Lightning Thief, Hamilton, Newsies, the Book of Mormon, Les Miserables, and Come From Away

He sings love songs to Mylène whenever she’s upset, and it works

The one that really cheers her up is Once You See from Carrie

Myléne has listened to every musical soundtrack she could find

She loves Hamilton, Hadestown, Rent, Falsettos, Mamma Mia, Bonnie and Clyde, Charlie and the Chocolate Factory, Footloose, Grease, Kinky Boots, Into the Woods, Newsies, and Sister Act

Her dad will often mime out the shows for her, and play the songs off of his phone

#miraculous ladybug #miraculous #musical #akuma class #miraculous sugar #headcanon #miraculous ladybug headcanon #musicals

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neocity-sarai · 4 years ago

Text

Souvenir

✩ pairing: reader x haechan (happy birthday to the literal sun!)

✩ alerts: making out, suggestive content, mentions of smut, summer fling trope

✩ song rec: souvenir by selena gomez

New York back in August, tenth floor blacony

Smoke is floating over Jane and Greenwich street

Goosebumps from your wild eyes when they’re watching me

“Aren’t you afraid of being with a stranger?”

A smile graces your glossy lips, the train of your dress dragging on the concrete balcony, “You aren’t a stranger though. You’re a friend of a friend.”

Haechan leans on the rusty metal railing as he cocks an eyebrow up at you, his smirk is full of teasing, “We met today.”

You answer him, “And?”

Haechan lets out a laugh as the setting sun casts an aurelian glow on all the city skyscrapers. It’s like honey melts off of Haechan’s jaw, his nose, and the corners of his eyes. He sighs, running a hand through his auburn locks, the crest of it messy, “Yet you invited me to your pad.”

Shivers danced down my spine, head down to my feet

Swimming in your eyes, in your eyes, in your eyes

Egyptian blue

Something i’ve never had without you

“I wanted to. You seemed interesting enough.”

Dramatically, Haechan moves some hair out of his eyes, sweeping his brow slightly, “You’re right. I am interesting.”

Rolling your eyes, you tug him back into your living room, “Get changed. We’re going to the roof.”

By the time you slip your swimming suit on and does the same, the sun has disappeared from your sight. Hand and hand, you lead Haechan up the stairs and onto the roof of your apartment building- a hot tub sits near the edge of the roof. The sky is alive; silvery stars illuminate the obsidian-colored sky as clouds slightly shade the milky moon. You watch the city lights change into a kaleidoscope of color in the distance, the chatter of people’s conversations sounding from the rooftop restaurants. You shut your eyes at how pleasant the chilly air feels on your cheeks, turning them paler.

“Are you coming or what?”

By the time you glance over, Haechan leans his head back on the rim of the hot tub, his mouth open, “This feels amazing.”

Your cheeks turn cherry red at the sight of Haechan’s bare chest, his abdomen carved with muscle- his expression doesn’t help at all. Almost reluctantly, you slip into the warm water of the tub, the warmth soothing the coldness that blankets your skin. A moan escapes past your lips, “You’re too right.”

When you open your eyes, you see Haechan swipe his tongue over his lips, his arms stretched out on the border of the tub, “Y/n, did you know that you looked stunning tonight?”

A light laugh drifts from your lips, “I should thank Johnny later for inviting you to his housewarming party- you had my full attention from the start.”

Haechan tilts his head to the side, his tongue pressing against his cheek, “Even now?”

Before you can answer, you feel Haechan swim in front of you, his arms trapping you on both sides. Suddenly, you feel subconscious. The whole time you had tried to act confident and snarky towards the boy in front of you, why did you feel so nervous now? The hot water burns on your skin, your insides feeling like soggy jello. Haechan smirks before whispering in the hollow of your ear, “You got yourself into this y/n.”

Immediately, you feel Haechan’s lips sting the juncture of your neck, one hand flying to his shoulder. Tossing your head back, Haechan bites your skin until it blossoms purple lilies, your other hand gripping his soaking locks of hair. When he pulls away, you see fire in his eyes- a fierce glint that shines in the dark before moving to kiss your lips passionately.

You’re giving me chills at a hundred degrees

It’s better than pills how you put me to sleep

Calling your name, the only language I can speak

Taking my breath, a souvenir that you can keep

Moaning into his lips, he uses more tongue as you grip his hair even tighter. Knocking your noses together, Haechan scrunches his brows in pleasure as he rubs the pad of his thumb on your bare thigh. With a surge of drunken confidence, you detach yourself from him before roughly smacking him against the bench of the tub. You straddle your legs over him, “And you got yourself into this, Haechan Lee.”

Scoffing at you, you sweep a few hairs out of Haechan’s eyes before kissing him again. Haechan rests his calloused palm on your waist, letting you get dizzy from the feeling of his lips on yours as he groans from the growing pressure between his hips. You pull away, feeling yourself desiring to take it further, “Okay stranger. That’s enough for tonight.”

Pouting, Haechan gazes at you, “Seriously?”

You nod, slapping a fist against his chest, “Let’s go back down.”

In passing, you hear Haechan’s whiny protest before dragging him back down. You both change before walking Haechan to your front door, “Are you sure you can make it back home okay?”

Haechan laughs at you, “Of course I can. I’m a tough man.”

You sense Haechan’s disappointment so you lean up to him before kissing him on the cheek, “I don’t think this will be the last you’ll see of me.”

“It better not. I’m starting to like you.”

Tomorrow evening had you dressed up again, a short black cocktail dress hugging your body. You paired it with a pair of rhinestone heels before heading off to dinner with Johnny and some friends he invited. You hope to see Haechan. Thankfully, Haechan saves you a seat beside him in the urban Japanese restaurant that Johnny chose.

Sunset Tower lobby, waiting for me

In the elevator, fumble for your key

You can’t think straight when Haechan carries you to your door, his fingers shoving your keys into the lock. When he gets it open, you don’t resist when Haechan presses you up against your wall, his hands holding your wrists firmly. His lips move on yours like a lyrical song, the taste of red wine staining the corner of his plump lips.

Kissed in every corner, Presidential Suite

Opened that Bordeaux from 1993

Swimming in your eyes, in your eyes, in your eyes

Egyptian Blue

Something I’ve never had without you

You shut your eyes at the feeling again, the darkness taking you and Haechan under like a narcotic. Your heart beating out of your chest like thunder when Haechan sinks below you, taking your heels off for you. He swivels you around, your forehead against the wall as he unzips the back of your dress. The fabric falls to the ground, you’re met with Haechan fumbling with the buttons of his shirt. Of course, you help him to undo them, laughing at his hasty fingers and how he shakes his head playfully at you. In a flash, Haechan discards his dress shirt, revealing his toned chest among the shadows. Haechan’s hands fly to your bare waist again, resting his head on yours, “If you don’t want to, I won’t push you.”

Shaking your head, you run your fingers across his chest, it makes him shiver.

“I want to. I want all of you.”

Without a moment of hesitation, Haechan motions for you to wrap your legs around his waist, supporting you with his hands. Melting into his lips, you kiss him like there is no tomorrow.

Giving me chills

Take my, take-take my breath away just like

Take my breath away just like a souvenir

Take my, take-take my breath away just like

Take my breath away just like souvenir

He carries you to your bedroom, the city skyline glowing from your window. It’s beautiful the way the sky scrapers and the stars meld into the bay, the way the moonlight casts a soft glow on Haechan’s skin. The way his eyes look softer, gentler. You unclasp your bra and Haechan his pants, letting you rest yourself on your headboard. When Haechan thrusts into you, you grab his hand- both of you panting heavily. You feel so dizzy on Haechan’s touch and the way you feel. You can’t get enough of it. When the deed is done, Haechan coddles you like you’re made of porcelain. Resting your head on his chest, you count the rapid beat of his heart. Shutting your eyes, Haechan places kisses on the crown of your head before stroking your hair. Haechan whispers at you, “Goodnight, princess.”

You clutch Haechan’s hand beside you, “I want to stay in New York forever.”

Haechan rests his chin on your head, “Who says you can’t?”

“Haechan, I don’t live here. I’m only here to visit.”

Moving upwards, your eyes are level with Haechan now. There’s a melancholy feeling in his dark irises as if he wants to savor something he didn’t know he would find.

“What if you stay here with me? Live in the city a bit longer?”

Hesitating, you’re unsure of how to answer. Already, you’ve stayed in the city far longer than you have planned. Haechan shuts you up with another kiss, his fingers holding your jaw steady. Smirking at you, his teeth gleam between his lips, “Ready for another round?”

Instead, you hit him with your pillow, a dramatic gasp floating out of his mouth, “You choose to be violent right now?”

Feeling your face burn like a thousand flames, you pull the comforter over your head, “Go to sleep Haechan!” Your voice sounds muffled until Haechan manages to hold you even with the blanket covering you, “Y/n. Stay with me.”

Slowly, you reveal yourself to him, Haechan’s lips pursed and his eyes pleading, “Just for a little while until you can decide.”

Sighing, you reach up to caress Haechan’s cheek, “Will you take care of me if I do?”

“You’re my princess. Of course, I will.”

Nodding, you press a light kiss to the ball of Haechan’s nose, “Promise?”

He bores his eyes into yours, biting his lower lip, “I promise.”

You settle back down into Haechan chest- snuggling deeper into him. You fall asleep to the sound of his light snores and the warmth of Haechan’s hand in yours.

You’re giving me chills at a hundred degrees (a hundred)

It’s better than pills how you put me to sleep

(Puts me, yeah)

Calling your name, the only language I can speak

Taking my breath, a souvenir that you can keep

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only-lonely-stars · 4 years ago

Text

The Future is Bright, Chapter 2

[Chapter 1 (Beginning)] // [Chapter 2 - you are here!] // [Chapter 3] // [Chapter 10 (End)] (FFN)

The weekly Sunday update is here! Now that the team is in Shintaro, Some things may be... illuminated.

Summary: What would happen if Cole had indeed had a reflection in the tomb of the First Spinjitzu Master? How would that have changed his life later? What would it have been? This story follows what might have happened if he had seen something, and what it was; who he would have become. What if his future was already decided?... (Rated T for safety. Alternate title: the Cosmic Spoilers AU.)

Chapter 2: She’s Pretty Nice

The first day the Ninja spent in Shintaro was like a day spent in heaven. The city was gorgeous, and the palace more so. Princess Vania gave them the guided tour, personally showing off her favorite places, plus their personal rooms. Eventually they all split up to explore (Princess Vania had to leave and go about her duties), so Cole spent a lot of time exploring on his own and getting lost. Nevertheless, everyone made it back to the palace safe and sound for a delicious supper, and then relaxed in a common room on one of the palace's higher floors.

As everyone relaxed and chatted, they all remarked upon how lovely the city was. Cole, for the most part, was pretty enthusiastic.

There was just one problem…

Cole had remembered what he'd seen. He didn't tell anyone, instead laughing and joking with the others, but he couldn't put it out of his mind. He knew exactly what his reflection had been, and suddenly all the beauty of Shintaro was not enough to distract him. Even the beauty of the princess wasn't enough, and she was extremely so, inside and out. If anything, she only made him more confused. He hated the confusion more than he even felt confused; it was strange, and unpleasant at best.

As they tired that night, everyone slowly left and went to bed. Eventually it was only Cole and Jay. Cole was yawning, but he didn't want to go to bed just yet. Jay seemed happy to sleep on the couch, but was still too hyper. It was so like him… would he have to leave this behind if he was right about his vision?

Jay stretched like a cat and groaned, jostling Cole out of his thoughts. "So– uh– Cole."

Cole looked over, coming back to reality again. "Yeah? What is it?"

Jay grinned at him, wiggling his eyebrows. "Princess Vania, huh?"

"...Yeah? What about her?" A little heat came to Cole's cheeks, but not enough to be seen. "She's pretty nice."

"Pretty nice?" Jay winked. "That all you have to say about her?"

"Yeah? Nothing's going on there."

"Oh, come on!" Jay flopped back on the couch. "Don't tell me you missed the extremely obvious crush she has on you!"

"B– wh– she does not have a crush on me!" Cole protested, the heat increasing.

"What, do you want a demonstration so you can see it for yourself?" Jay asked incredulously.

Cole laughed. "What are you even talking about?"

"It's like this!" Jay got up from the couch, grabbing a gold pillow and putting it on his head. He grinned, tucking a tuft of his hair behind his ear and pitching his voice up into falsetto. "Oh, Cole! The earth elemental! It must be so much fun to command the very earth, what does it feel like?"

Cole's jaw dropped, and as soon as he picked it up off the floor, he shoved Jay. "Shut up, Jay! It's not like that!"

Jay snickered loudly. "Yeah, sure it isn't! You'd say that no matter what girl was crushing on you and that's a fact."

"I would not!"

"You would! It's so painfully obvious!"

"It is not!"

"Just accept the truth!" Jay sing-songed. "She's got a crush on you, and you don't seem to mind."

"I don't– er, I do! I do mind, and she doesn't! Besides, I– well–" Cole groaned heavily. "I'm focused on other things right now."

Jay tilted his head to the side, still holding the pillow to it. "You're 'focused?'"

"Yeah. Focused."

"Focused is a code word for 'worried.' What's wrong? You do look like something's actually bothering you."

Cole opened his mouth to speak, but as he looked at Jay, he couldn't help snickering. "Alright, I can't take you seriously with a pillow on your head, Jay."

The blue ninja gasped in shock. "Hey! I need my props!" He smacked Cole with the pillow as he said it.

Cole laughed. "Sure you do!" He pulled the pillow from Jay's hands and tossed it aside onto the floor, far from his reach. "You definitely need help to tell a story."

"Well that's just rude. Never tease a talented actor, Cole."

"Ha, as if. That game show of yours wasn't much acting!"

"We agreed never to talk about that!"

Cole laughed more. "I never signed a contract! You, on the other hand…"

"I made a good bit from that gig, you can't deny that!" Jay fell back on the couch, just gently enough not to do any damage, and sprawled out across it. "And anyway, that's not the point. The point is whatever's got you down in the dumps."

At that, Cole sighed, and he leaned back into the couch. Absently, he grabbed a pillow and clutched it to his stomach comfortingly. What was he supposed to say? What would Jay think if he told him? Across the couch from him, Jay watched in uncharacteristic quiet. It was welcome, considering how much he had to sort out his thoughts.

"...I think my vision from the tomb is coming true."

Jay looked confused, but realization dawned quickly. "Wait, your vision from the FSM's tomb those years ago? The one of the future with you in the funny dress?"

Cole nodded, not taking the bait. "Yeah. I know you didn't see the details, but…"

"You see the connection?" Jay asked, frowning sympathetically.

"Yeah." He held the pillow just a little tighter, coming to grips– ha, grips– with his thoughts. "The colors, the clothes, the freaking hair– everything lines up. I end up here."

Jay's frown deepened. "You didn't see yourself in a sensei's gi? Just some robes that might be from Shintaro? You're sure it comes from here?"

Cole nodded. "It's the only thing that makes sense."

"Wow."

"...Yeah."

Jay sighed. "Those visions– are you sure they'll come true, and aren't just from some random possible timeline? They're definitely happening?"

"I don't see why they wouldn't. It's not like the FSM lied, just hid things," Cole grumbled. "He hid a lot of junk from everyone."

"Hm…" Jay frowned, grabbing a pillow of his own and playing with a tassel on it absently. "By that logic I definitely become a pirate, then."

"Ha! Fat chance. You'll just get that eyepatch, no pirates involved."

Jay snickered. "I kind of hope so. I don't like pirates."

"Oh believe me, I know."

Jay's head whipped to the side, seemingly painfully, and he stared at Cole. "You know?!" His eyes were wide and frantic.

Cole gave him a look, concerned. "...I know that you hate pirates, yeah? It's not like you complain about them all the time or anything."

"Oh! Phew. Yeah." Jay sighed, lacking his usual drama. "That's what I meant."

"Yeah, okay." Cole rolled his eyes with a smile. "Weren't you needling me about how I'm supposedly going to be stuck wearing a dress all the time, Mr. I Hate Pirates?"

"Yes, yes I was." Jay perked back up. "I do have to ask, though; didn't your reflection have a yang pin?"

There it was– the part that stuck the most. "Yeah. I don't know what to think of it."

"Me neither. You've been low-key– or maybe high-key, honestly– against getting into any kind of relationship, but marriage? Really?" Jay scoffed.

Cole laughed, but he didn't know whether it was amused or incredulous.. "Yeah. That's my dilemma." He leaned his chin on the pillow in his arms. "Someone's waiting for me here, but I don't know who. Do I even want to know?"

Jay paused, but then snickered, muffling it with his hand. "Okay, out of context, that sounds really creepy."

That triggered more laughter from Cole. "Jay, come on! This is serious stuff!"

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry! I can only be serious for a few minutes at a time, you know me! Very dependent on the circumstances!"

Cole rolled his eyes. "Yeah, I do know you, you pill!"

"Hey, rude!"

"Am I wrong?"

"No…"

"See? There we go." Cole rolled his eyes. "I know you, and I know that I don't want romance. Not on my bucket list."

Jay scoffed, managing to calm down. "So what if you don't want it?"

"What do you mean?" He looked over at Jay. "It's my life. What if I don't want to share it?"

"I mean, so what?" Jay rolled his eyes. "Sometimes fate gets in the way. Not like we really control our futures anyway."

It was Cole's turn to scoff. "Uh, yeah. Okay. Last I checked, if fate was real, it killed me and then brought me back to life, which was definitely part of my vision. I don't exactly trust the future not to ruin all my plans."

Jay rolled his eyes. "Come on, stop being so pessimistic! Being a ghost wasn't great, but it isn't like it was that terrible. You needed those abilities a lot."

"Sure, but I hated it."

"You didn't hate being able to pass through walls and scare me."

Cole paused. "...That part was pretty good, actually."

"See? Not all that bad!" Jay crossed his arms, smiling smugly. "Can't lie to me."

"Jay, just get back on topic or go to bed."

"Fine." Jay sighed, leaning back against the arm of the couch. "As I was saying. Would it be so bad if you fell for some girl here? It'd be easier than what me and Nya had to go through, and this place is amazing! You'd be able to just relax for the rest of your life."

Cole sighed too. "Well, I don't know. Shintaro's great, but I can't just relax and chill for the rest of my life." He shrugged. "Besides, I don't think I'm going to find some sort of soulmate like you and Nya did– we already saw what happened when I tried."

"Ha, that's just because you tried with Nya."

"What about Seliel? She flat-out hated me for ages, and still, nothing came of it."

"That's different, Cole. She was very interested in being a 'strong, independent woman who don't need no man.' You don't fit the bill there." Jay rolled his eyes. "Seriously, just you wait; you're gonna fall for someone, and you're gonna fall hard. Mark my words."

"I hope you're either very right or very wrong."

"Rude! I'm always right."

"I'm not telling any comfortable lies tonight. Too tired."

"Fair." Jay grinned. "I'm gonna love watching it, whoever it is. Maybe it's Princess Vania."

Cole growled, gripping the pillow tighter, as if it could stop the sudden frustration that was roiling in his stomach. "Jay, I will smother you with this pillow and make it look like an accident."

"You're gonna kill me just because I'm telling the truth?"

"I'm gonna kill you because you're being a pain!" He couldn't help but grin, begging to be challenged. "Just wait. We're gonna leave Shintaro and the princess isn't gonna do one little thing. Absolutely nothing will happen between us."

"Keep telling yourself that!" Jay threw his pillow at Cole.

Cole rolled his eyes and got up, throwing his own pillow back at Jay. "I will. Good night!"

"Goodnight! Sweet dreams!" Jay's grin only grew. "Hope you dream of princesses!"

Cole flushed– was it from anger or embarrassment? He couldn't tell. "My threat of suffocation still stands!"

"Sure," Jay said with a smug snicker. "Just go to bed before you give me more cannon fodder; I can go on all night."

"You're the absolute worst. You do know that, right?"

Jay sniffed. "Now I do."

"Whatever." Cole turned and left, mind at war with himself. What was he supposed to do? What if he could just leave Shintaro? Would that make it easier…?

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couldnt-think-of-a-funny-name · 5 years ago

Note

5 favorite things to do during quarantine?

- obsess over how much I want to change my wardrobe, start only getting ads about online sales deals for clothes I'd love, start obsessing over the fact the computer is reading my mind and begin dismantling every piece of technology in my house to find the brain microphones

- use the leftover tech pieces to fashion a suit that will protect me when I have to venture out of quarantine to fight for food. plague doctor, but make it steam punk. oh, you think you can shove people out of the way to grab the last 15 liters of pepsi? I WILL go Iron Man on your ass, bitch.

- if I see anyone on my social media blatantly disregarding the isolation order and needlessly threatening people's health with their hubris, I'll wait until the dark of night, shroud myself in a black veil, crouch outside their home and let out an unearthly screech full of mourning and pain, to let them know death is on the way

- begin obsessing over the woman trying to crawl out of my wallpaper....I must help free her...in spite of...

- dress in my best formal clothing, adorn myself in beautiful jewels, and stare forlornly out the window, my hand pressed delicately against the chilled glass, and wistfully watch the rain storm drench the earth...will I ever be able to dance in the rain again? when was the last time I.....felt...anything?

- it's wine o'clock somewhere!!! I do not know what time it is here, however. I have been completely removed from the linear time stream. it's rather exhausting. I pour another glass of the rosey pink liquid and offer it to my younger self.

- roam the empty halls of my apartment complex, painting lambs blood above my neighbor's doors to protect them from death. do not ask where I got the blood. I'm not entirely sure.

- my stuffed animals, my statues, my trinkets, my posters- all face the wall now. nothing with eyes will dare to look at me

- stand alone, always alone, on my roof, wearing nothing but lingerie, an open sweat shirt, and knee socks, screaming at the top of my lungs. no one notices, for I am the last...I take a swig of my wine. this exercise was cathartic.

- bake brownies!!!! I always throw some extra chocolate chips in there to give them some pizzazz.

- I think I watched Princess and the Frog last night??? Or maybe it was tomorrow

- God, I love Prince Naveen

- recieve my first piece of mail in what feels like years. leap with joy! open the letter and discover it's just about my student loan debt. set the letter on fire.

- no one has ever loved me. no one will ever get the chance to love me.

- proclaim I'm going to use this time in isolation to lose weight

- make absolutely no move to exercise

- put on a ball gown and waltz with my personal ghosts

- make love to my personal ghosts

- break up with my personal ghosts and banish them from my home

- oh God, where is my period

- fuck. oh fuck. shit.

- watch some bootlegs of musicals on youtube

- turn on the news station, watch the depressing reports with empty eyes, feel a pit you can't explain in your stomach, turn on mysteries at the museum instead

- am I sleeping too much or too little? oh, who cares.

- watch elaborate makeup tutorials, start crying when you can't copy them

- try and face time your friends with the tear stained shitty makeup. no one answers. you dumbass.

- teach yourself how to hoola hoop

- stay hydrated! :)

- befriend the fox that lives outside your bedroom window. finally- somebody who understands.

- scuttling on the ceiling is actually great cardio! who knew!

- bubble bath + sugar scrub + aromatherapy lotion + fuzzy pajamas = the absolute best feeling in the world right before you launch yourself into the dumpster! :)

- try really hard to grow a scraggly beard so when the aliens land they can just take one look at me and Know I've been through a hardship

- take my anti anxiety pills

- cry when they don't do anything but make me tired

- wake up decades later like Rip Van Winkle...wait, we're still in quarantine??? come the fuck on

- netflix?? God, they don't have anything on there.

- answer asks for my lovely followers on tumblr. net! :)

- begin wondering if the followers are real...or if they're generated...maybe I truly am just screaming into a meaningless void...

- finally remember to eat! yum!

- okay, I feel better now!

- wait, where'd my dog go?

- I figured out how to levitate

- I can feel my body shutting down, how fun!

- put on a nice gown and bury myself alive. seriously, I quit. it's either been 40 years or 5 days. can't take this anymore. farewell, my dear hearts. remember me.

#asks #molly mumbles

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taliaquinn · 5 years ago

Link

Marinette quickly dove behind a wall and quickly transformed back. Only to run smack dab into Chat.

Honestly? Marinette had lost all respect for him. Ever since he started to show up to fights late, sometimes he didn't even show up at all!!!

He soon started to be less careful when it came to making sure that there aren't any civilian casualties, he's started to put too much faith in her Miraculous Ladybug. Expecting it to fix everything. Marinette could take comfort in the fact that Master Fu is going to have a talk with Chat in his civilian identity. Master Fu even confided in her that he might take away his ring. Marinette was honestly hoping that it would come to that. Marinette has been feeling like she's the only Hero in Paris.

“Hey Princess, Seems Like I’m A little late for the fight eh?” Chat said while blatantly Blocking Marinette's Path. Talk about irritating. So what if he was late? He got a little held up at a meet up with Alya who desperately needed help with her website. Adrien knew he needed to get Ladybug to grant her another interview. So what if she's friends with Lila. Adrien is not sure he and Ladybug could go up against another akumatized Lila. Ladybug will understand. She always had.

“Ladybug took care of it, all of it” Marinette couldn't help but spit out. Making up her mind on the spot she decided to take it even further.

“Where were you Chat!? You've barely show up to fights anymore. Ladybug needs your help” Marinette couldn't stop. She needed to release all her frustrations. If she couldn't do it as Ladybug she could at least do it as Marinette.

“Princess I got held up with something in my civilian life. My friends were having a meetup an-”

“You were late because you were too busy with your Friends?” Chat couldn't help but wince. Marinette looked mad.

“UNBEEELLLIIIEVABLE LADYBUG ALWAYS SHOWS UP, YES SOMETIMES SHE SHOWS UP LATE BUT AT LEAST SHE SHOWS UP. SHE'S AT LEAST SERIOUS AND DOESN'T PUT CIVILIANS AT RISK” Marinette was livid. How dare he. She took a breath and continued at a lower but still pissed voice.

“Chat listen here and listen closely you have lost all respect for me. You are going to have to earn it back. You are going to have to STEP it up. Prove yourself to be the hero you claim yourself to be. Or else’’

With that Marinette swiveled around and walked away back towards the gala. Unbeknownst to her, an ex-journalist decided to follow Adrien, Desperate for a scoop. What if Adrien had a secret girlfriend or more scandalous a secret boyfriend? But what Alya did get was something better. A confrontation. She recorded the whole confrontation. And boy was she LIVID.

Adrien couldn't believe it. Marinette had denounced him as Chat. Adrien couldn't help but be hurt and slightly pissed. What would she know? She doesn't understand how much his friends matter to him. Yes, he refuses to publicly support her in her Campaign to reveal Lila. So yes, there might be a few hurt feelings from Marinette's side. Yes, that was it. Obviously. Right? He transformed in an Alley and quickly dashed off to quickly meet back up with Alya.

Marinette was so done. Once Alya posted the video, which showed someone like Marinette telling off a hero like Chat Noir. This will teach her what happens when you become a bully. No one will like her either. The spell she has over the other kids in Francis Dupont will be broken. Everyone will see how right Alya was when it came in regards to Marinette and her bullying ways. With a glimmer in her eye, she posted the video. She couldn't wait.

“Marinette’’ Bruce couldn't help himself he quickly enveloped Marinette in a hug once he saw her make a reappearance into the gala. Marinette couldn't help but lean into it. Taking care of an Akuma was hard enough but Confronting Chat as Marinette was more emotionally exhausting than she thought. She was tired.

“BRUCE” a breathless Dick who was occupied pushing Damian in front of him screamed once he was inside. Thank God. Bruce quickly pulled them into the hug as well. He noticed that Marinette squirmed a bit to make space for Damian. Quickly pulling away from Marinette and Dick he crouched down a bit to make eye contact with his two youngest.

“Marinette this is Damian and Dick your brothers”

Hold up. This was moving a bit too fast.

“Hold Up is no one gonna question this?” Marinette broke in. “How do you guys even know I am your daughter?”

She, of course, was immediately met with a flat look by the oldest, Dick.

Dick Could see the resemblance between her, Bruce and Heck even Damian. Dick made a quick prayer that hopefully, this one wouldn't be too much of a headache. God what if she inherited the broody gene too? If that is true he's taking a LONG vacation to Brazil. Once he's assimilated her comfortably into the family of course.

“Marinette You are my daughter, trust me I made sure to check before even daring to disrupt your life. Don't worry we can make sure to keep this quiet. However, if you do want to welcome us, I don't want to replace the lovely people who have raised you, your parents, Heck I want to meet them, tonight if it's alright.” Bruce finally stated. While also making sure to keep pushing Damian's' face into his chest to make sure Marinette's’ first impression of Damian isn't his Scowling face.

“Yes Please could we quickly leave before another Akuma attack happens?” Marinette was not gonna make that mistake. Again. Suddenly she came upon a realization.

Oh, Crap she couldn't forget about the girls.

“Wait Let me go say goodbye to my Friends quickly and I can meet up with you guys outside. Please.” Marinette wasn't sure that if she left and didn't tell the girls she left that Chloe wouldn't have the entire Parisian Police force looking for her. Or Kagami somehow tracking her down. Or Aurore posting a missing person police report. Seriously she needed to make her friends take a chill pill. Sometimes. Bruce and Dick quickly gave her a nod. She made sure to scurry off quickly.

Bruce Finally released Damian from his “hug”.

“Father Please was that Necessary? Grayson made me promise to be a gentleman, therefore your fears were unfounded.” Damian said although there was little to no heat in his words. He liked hugs no matter how suffocating they could be. His Assasin training was useful after all.

“Sorry, son I’ll make sure to try to cut our hugs shorter next time,” Bruce said with a bit of a knowing smirk. Quickly getting up with a slight groan he made sure to go have a quick conversation with Mayor Bourgeois.

Once outside he settled Damian into the Suv and followed himself. Soon they were joined by Dick who was followed by Marinette.

Boy oh, Boy Bruce did not have enough aspirin for the potential headaches.

#maribat #miraculous ladybug #marinette dupain cheng #damian wayne #dick grayson #jason todd #tim drake #marinette deserves better

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chiesbeurgoure · 6 years ago

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The Signs as Explained by a Licensed Dumbass who got all of their Astrology Knowledge from Vines

I keep getting “the signs as vines” or “vines explain the zodiac” videos in my YouTube feed, so I, a clueless fucker, thought I’d learn some astrology using only vines. This is the resulting conclusions I’ve come to.

Aries:

a bit of a disaster

got priorities

childish

acts hard but is super soft

takes shit from no one

Taurus:

realist

done with anything

takes zero (0) sass

at peace

questionably wise

Gemini:

FUCKING CRAZY

LIKE, MAKES NO FUCKING SENSE

fake

0 to 100, real quick

SERIOUSLY WHAT

Cancer:

lives in a constant state of regret

dramatic

weird

cries while arguing

means well but has alien brains and doesn’t know how to show kindness in a regular way

Leo:

confident

lives in a reality show

extra as fuck

bad bitch contest they in first place

life is a stage, and they’re the main event

Virgo:

Stressed™

perfectionist

petty

not the fun type of bitch

needs a damn chill pill

Libra:

a disney princess

can’t stay mad

loves animals

probably the protagonist of a young adult romance novel

or a future tragic murder victim

Scorpio:

fucking WILD

loves starting shit

knows they’ll die one day so the go HARD while they can

can’t bother pretending to be satisfied with their current situation

three emotions: screaming, grumping, or laughing their ass off

Sagittarius:

optimist

ready to fucking party at any time

doesn’t care what anyone thinks

honest

all-around fun person

Capricorn:

“:)”

new age nihilism

perpetually sad

bottled up emotions

life may or may not be in shambles, hard to tell when they always act fucking numb

Aquarius:

the fun kind of bitch

sassy urban friend

passive aggressive

“Try me, slut 😊”

when you do something stupid, they have their phone out recording it

Pisces:

confused 25/8

innocent and means well

their actions may deceive you into thinking they don’t give a fuck, but in reality they give fucks like a reverse birthday

can speak to animals

mind exists and perceives a whole other dimension than our own.

#zodiac #astrology #aries #taurus #gemini #cancer #leo #virgo #libra #scorpio #sagittarius #capricorn #aquarius #pisces #vine #no idea why i felt like doing this #but like #schwatevs

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silverlightqueen · 6 years ago

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Ruin My Life - Part 3

RML masterlist

(fratboy!Jimin) - so much fluff (!!!) smut, angst to come

Summary - Fuckboy Jimin being a soft and fluffy little shit, while him and Y/N get kinda roasted/interrogated by the rest of the gang ft. Kookie being an annoying third wheel and Joonie being a real one 🤷🏽‍♀️

Word Count - 9.4k+

Warnings - not as smutty as part 1 and 2, shower sex, talk of pregnancy, that’s it I think

a/n: so here’s part 3!!! I really wanted to make this a lil fluffier and I think I mighta went a bit overboard lmao. Also this isn’t very thoroughly edited so there’s prolly some mistakes lol. Sorry that this is later than expected, I've been super swamped with school stuff atm, you guys know how it is, especially when you’re a lead in the upcoming school musical (fml) and a-levels are a huge stress (fml x2) not to mention my frequent panic attacks (fml x3!), so i’m super sorry for the long wait! Hope you all enjoy, and please message me, it makes my day!💕

Also check out my other work, all linked in masterlist!💕

silverlightqueen masterlist

‘Hey, guys,’ I say as I enter the kitchen, taking a seat at the breakfast bar with a yawn. When I woke up, five minutes ago, the bed was empty and Jimin was nowhere to be seen. I went for a quick wee, washed my face, put on some of Jimin’s socks and my bra from last night underneath Jimin’s hoodie, and then headed downstairs, surprised to find the house tidy and intact. I look up now, six pairs of eyes on me. Jin is stood at the cooker, making pancakes, and the other boys are sat around the island. ‘Um, good afternoon, y/n. I wasn’t aware you’d spent the night,’ Namjoon says, speaking for the group. ‘Yeah, I slept in Jimin’s room,’ I reply. ‘With Jimin?’ Jin asks with a raised eyebrow, and I shrug. ‘I fell asleep with an empty bed and woke up with an empty bed, so he might’ve slept with me, I don’t know,’ I reply truthfully. ‘Yeah, he’s gone out,’ Yoongi says, seemingly unfazed, going back to his food. ‘Where?’ I ask, and they all shrug. ‘He just said he’d be back soon. He’s been gone, like, twenty minutes,’ Jungkook says, blushing slightly when I meet his eyes. ‘I’ll call him if he’s not back in the next half an hour,’ I say, not worried because I know he’s a busy guy. ‘I hope you don’t mind me asking, y/n, but, um, is there a particular reason you spent the night?’ Taehyung asks, all of the boys a lot more chill and mellow with me compared to in the library and at the party last night. ‘Yeah, there is,’ I say with a note of finality, not saying anything else. ‘Another question; is there a particular reason I saw Jungkook leaving Jimin’s room last night?’ Hoseok asks, directing the question at both parties. Our eyes meet, and he shrugs, leaving the answer up to me. ‘Yes, there is,’ I say again, and small smiles appear on all of their faces.

‘Okay, you might all be respecting their privacy, but I sure as hell am not going to. Are you and Jimin like… you know?’ Jin asks, and I sigh. ‘We’re not dating, if that’s what you’re asking,’ I say, and they all look at me expectantly, waiting for the rest of the answer. ‘When I broke up with Eunwoo, me and Jimin used to… hook up, regularly. Pretty much every other day for a good few months. But then we stopped and didn’t speak for, like, two years. But on Thursday, after the events of the library, he came over that night. And invited me to the party the next morning, so I came, and then I stayed the night,’ I explain. ‘How did he manage to keep that from us?’ Hobi asks. ‘More importantly, why did he keep that from us?’ Tae asks, all of the boys shrugging. ‘I can answer that one,’ I say. ‘Let me guess. You didn’t want anyone to know?’ Jungkook asks. ‘Actually, no. It was Jimin that didn’t want anyone to know,’ I say, and they all look at me incredulously. ‘Seriously?’ Yoongi asks me, and I nod. ‘He has a reputation for one-night stands, nothing more. He didn’t want anyone to know that me and him were a regular thing,’ I say. ‘What a dick,’ Namjoon chuckles, shaking his head. ‘So what’s Kook got to do with this?’ Jin asks. ‘Nothing. Jimin just invited me,’ Jungkook says smugly. ‘No fair,’ Tae whines, and I roll my eyes. ‘Do you want something to eat, y/n?’ Jin asks, and I shake my head. ‘I’m taking that as a yes,’ he says, putting a plate of pancakes in front me, strawberries, golden syrup, whipped cream and all. I sigh, beginning to eat it, and they’re even better than the ones Jimin made me. ‘Thank you,’ I say, and Jin smiles at me.

‘Are you and Jimin gonna continue hooking up or…?’ Hobi asks. ‘Why, so you can take his place if not?’ Yoongi asks dryly, all of us laughing. ‘I don’t know. I don’t think so,’ I say, knowing that I’ll need to break it off if I don’t want to catch feelings again. ‘Why not?’ Tae asks, head tilted endearingly, and I sigh. ‘I don’t know. It’s just… not sustainable, right? I can’t go on like that with him. We’re not in any kind of relationship, we have no commitment to each other. It’s just weird,’ I say. ‘Not really. You’re friends with benefits. That’s like the best relationship a guy can have. No strings attached,’ Hobi says. ‘It’s not the kind of relationship I want though. I want to settle down, find a boyfriend. I’m graduating soon and then I’ll be working. It’s the perfect time to date someone,’ I say, and Namjoon laughs. ‘y/n, boyfriends aren’t part of schedules. You can’t put a boyfriend in a future plan. The right boy for you will come along completely unexpectedly, because that’s how life works,’ he says. ‘Yeah, and that right boy isn’t Jimin,’ I say. ‘Why not?’ Yoongi asks, looking at me thoughtfully. ‘He doesn’t date, you should all know that as well as I do. He wouldn’t ever want to settle down,’ I say. ‘Yeah, but is that the only reason?’ Jin asks. ‘Well, no. I just don’t really like him like that. He’s attractive, don’t get me wrong, and he has good dick, but other than that, I’m not into him,’ I lie through my teeth, Yoongi’s eyes narrowed at me. ‘Fair enough,’ Hobi shrugs, buying it, as do Jin, Jungkook and Namjoon, though Tae and Yoongi eye me suspiciously.

Jimin walks in then, stopping short when he sees me. ‘Hey, y/n,’ he says guardedly, frozen in the doorway, a chemist’s bag in his hand. ‘Hey, Jimin,’ I reply, the boys watching us amusedly. ‘What’s that, Chim?’ Yoongi asks, eyes trained on the bag in his hand. ‘Just some painkillers, for my migraine,’ Jimin says instantly, and I know he’s lying. But again, Namjoon, Jin, Jungkook and Hobi buy it. ‘Let’s see,’ Tae says, obviously not believing it. ‘I…’ Jimin trails off, and Yoongi grabs the bag out of his hand, pulling out a box of morning after pills with an amused smile. ‘I’m guessing these are for you, y/n,’ Yoongi says, putting the box back in the bag and sliding it across the counter. I pick it up, trying not to laugh when I see loads of pregnancy tests in there too. Hobi leans over my shoulder, trying to see what it is, before he gasps. ‘You didn’t even use a condom?’ he exclaims, and Jimin shushes him, clapping a hand over his mouth. ‘Shut up, hyung! I don’t want the whole frat to think I don’t wrap it before I tap it,’ he says, the cringey phrase making me roll my eyes. ‘Why then?’ Tae asks. ‘The condom broke,’ I say. ‘Whose condom?’ Yoongi asks, and I sigh, my hopes that no one would ask shattered. ‘Pardon?’ Jimin asks, obviously confused. ‘Whose condom broke? Yours or Kook’s?’ he asks, the other boys only just realising. When we stay silent, they all gasp. ‘Oh, my god! So y/n could end up pregnant with Jimin’s baby, or Kook’s baby!’ Jin exclaims. ‘Jin! Shut up!’ I nearly scream, and he claps a hand over his mouth. ‘Sorry,’ he says, and I shake my head despairingly. ‘Come on, y/n,’ Jimin sighs, ‘come up to my room.’ ‘Really, Chim? Gonna try to beat after all of that?’ Jungkook teases as I get up from my seat, taking my plate and the pills with me. ‘Yeah, don’t get jealous,’ Jimin replies, taking the pills from me and holding my empty hand, leading me out of the room. ‘You have bruises on your knees, y/n!’ Tae calls after me, and I try not to laugh, looking down to see said bruises on my exposed knees. We go up to his room, passing a couple freshmen on the way who eye me wordlessly, probably wondering why their playboy hyung is wandering around the frat with a hungover messy-haired girl wearing nothing but a hoodie that reaches half way down her thighs and a pair of way-too-big socks.

‘You told the boys, princess?’ Jimin asks me as he shuts his bedroom door behind us. ‘Hmm, I couldn’t really lie, could I?’ I ask, and he nods, sprawling out across his bed. He looks so attractively adorable, dressed in a pair of slim fit black sweatpants and a loose-fitting grey jumper, white socks on his feet and his wavy hair parted, exposing his forehead. He pats the space beside him in the bed, and I sit down, crossing my legs and facing him. I rest my plate on his stomach, both of us breaking off pieces of the pancakes, dipping them in golden syrup and whipped cream before topping each piece off with a strawberry, eating it all in one bite. ‘What did they say?’ he asks. ‘They were just surprised that you’d kept it from them, and they asked if we were gonna carry on as we are,’ I say. ‘What did you say?’ he asks, and I raise an eyebrow. ‘I said I don’t know,’ I reply, and he narrows his eyes at me. ‘Why?’ ‘Because it’s the truth. Because I’m at a stage in my life where I want a boyfriend, where I want to settle down, and you don’t,’ I say. ‘No, I don’t want a boyfriend,’ he teases. ‘Don’t lie to me, I saw the way you were looking at Kook,’ I joke, and he chuckles. ‘It’s a shame, Y/N. You’re the best I’ve ever had, princess,’ he says, looking up at me. ‘And you for me,’ I reply, and he grins widely, making me roll my eyes. We fall into a comfortable silence, finishing the pancakes, and it’s only when he’s putting the plate on his bedside table that I speak.

‘What will you do if I’m pregnant?’ I ask, and he nearly chokes, coughing with surprise. ‘That reminds me,’ he says, pushing water and the pills into my hands. I roll my eyes, taking a pill, his eyes on me the entire time. ‘So?’ I ask. ‘What?’ he replies, confused. ‘What will you do if I’m pregnant?’ I repeat. ‘Oh. Well, I don’t know. Depends what you want me to do,’ he replies, and I roll my eyes. ‘Don’t try to tell me what I want to hear. I want the truth,’ I press on, and he sighs. ‘If you wanted an abortion, I’d come with you to get it. If you wanted to give the baby up for adoption, I’d help you through the pregnancy and then find suitable parents for our kid. If you wanted to keep the baby but didn’t want me in its life, then I’d pay child support and leave you alone. If you wanted to keep the baby and want me in its life, then I’d be the best dad to ever walk the earth,’ he says confidently, his words warming my heart. ‘Yeah, right. What makes you think that?’ I joke, and he gasps, clutching his heart. ‘I’d be fantastic. I’d take it to and from school, I’d make its lunches, I’d take it to any karate or dance classes or anything like that, I’d always be doing fun day trips, I’d sleep in its room when it has a nightmare, I’d make sure we go on family holidays and day trips and stuff so it can spend time with its mum and dad at the same time. I’d be a great dad,’ he says. ‘Okay, a) you need to stop calling our hypothetical child ‘it’, that’s terrible. And b) would you really do all of that?’ I ask, my heart melting, and he grins up at me, running a hand through his hair. ‘Of course, princess. If you wanted me to,’ he says. ‘Of course, I’d want you to. I wouldn’t want our kid growing up with only one parent when they could have two,’ I say. ‘Would you want a boy or a girl?’ he asks, and I think about that for a moment. ‘I don’t mind, really. I think I’d prefer a boy first, but I’d be happy with either. As long as they become my best friend,’ I say. ‘Hell no. Our kid’s gonna be a daddy’s girl or boy,’ he says, and I scowl. ‘No! I’m the one that has to carry our kid for nine months, so they’re gonna be a momma’s girl or boy,’ I say, and he frowns at me. ‘Okay, fine, we can be equal,’ he says, and I nod, conceding.

‘What about names?’ I ask. ‘Park Aro for a girl, Park Taemin for a boy,’ he says, and I gasp. ‘What about my surname? Why Park?’ I ask. ‘It can be hyphenated if you want,’ he gives in, and I shake my head, ‘No, Park’s better than my surname anyway.’ He shakes his head at me, trying not to laugh. ‘What about you? What names do you like?’ he asks. ‘Park Hiroo or Park Kai for a boy, and Park Jisoo or Park Mila for a girl,’ I say. ‘Park Kai? That sounds so dumb,’ he says, and I pout, ‘I like Kai.’ ‘No way, we’re not calling our son Park Kai.’ ‘Well, I’m not accepting Park Aro either.’ ‘Good thing I like your girls’ names,’ he says, and I grin. ‘I like Taemin as well,’ I admit, and he laughs. ‘So our kids are gonna be called Park Taemin, Park Jisoo and Park Mila?’ he says, and I nod. ‘Shouldn’t we have another boy to even up the numbers?’ I suggest. ‘Yeah, I guess. We could call him Park Jimin Jr,’ he suggests. ‘Hell no. We’re not calling our kid Jimin Jr. Are you insane?’ I say, and he laughs. ‘What then?’ he asks, both of us falling into a thoughtful silence. ‘What about Minjoon?’ I suggest. ‘Park Minjoon? Yeah, that sounds good,’ he says, agreeing. ‘So, Park Taemin, Park Jisoo, Park Minjoon and Park Mila?’ I say, and he nods.

‘Aww, our little family is so cute already, princess,’ he says, and I laugh. ‘They’ll get the cute genes from you,’ I say, and he raises an eyebrow. ‘You’re cuter than me,’ he says, and I give him a ‘really’ look. ‘You are! Look at you right now! The cutest girl in the world. Wearing my hoodie with your curled hair and your fresh face. You’re adorable,’ he says, and I try not to blush. ‘Shut up, Park, you know you’re the adorable one. Your eye smile is the cutest thing known to man and that’s a fact, end of. I hope our kids inherit your eye smile,’ I say, and he shakes his head. ‘It’s a safety risk. You’re so funny that they’ll always be laughing so they won’t be able to see where they’re going and they’ll get injured,’ he says, and I try not to laugh. ‘Well, you’re so caring so you’ll always be on hand to cheer them up and look after them after they do,’ I say, and he laughs. ‘Well, you’re so clever so you’ll know exactly how to treat their wounds. I hope they get your clever genes,’ he says, both of us trying to one up each other, and I scoff. ‘You mean your clever genes, Mr. Class-President-For-Nine-Years-Straight,’ I say, and he bursts out laughing. ‘I hope they inherit your sass. They’ll keep everyone entertained. The boys will love our kids,’ he says thoughtfully. ‘The boys aren’t going anywhere near our kids. Bad influences. I don’t want our kids being able to do keg stands before they can even walk,’ I say, both of us laughing now.

‘Imagine our kids running around the frat,’ he says, and my eyes widen. ‘No way! Imagine the germs,’ I laugh. ‘Joon would adore Taemin, because he’s so gonna be the clever one. Hobi would dote on Jisoo, because her sass will keep him on his toes. Kook and Minjoon are gonna be the worst duo ever, because Minjoon’s gonna be so mischievous and naughty. Yoongi will absolutely adore Mila because she’s the cute little baby of the family and Yoongi’s just soft. Jin’s gonna try and teach them all life lessons but just end up teaching them how to end someone’s life with a few disses, and Tae and Mija are gonna be the cool aunt and uncle that’ll buy them whatever they want whenever they want it,’ Jimin says, his soothingly smooth voice spinning an entire fantasy world for me to live in. And then we both seem to realise what we’re doing, falling silent, eyes trained on each other. Jimin moves so he’s lying between my legs, my upper back against the headboard, his chin resting on my stomach. ‘Can you actually imagine if our baby starts to develop and grow in here?’ he murmurs gently, his hands on my stomach. ‘We’d make great co-parents, as long as you don’t have loads of girls over all the time,’ I reply, and he laughs gently. ‘If we were co-parents, I wouldn’t have time for girls. You’d be the only girl in my life,’ he says, and I smile softly. ‘And our maybe-daughter,’ I say. ‘It might be Kook’s, though,’ he says, and I sigh. ‘If I did end up pregnant, I’d want it to be yours,’ I admit. ‘Well, even if it was Kook’s, I don’t think he’d want to father it, so I’d step in,’ he says, and my mouth drops open. ‘You’d father mine and Kook’s kid if he didn’t want to?’ I ask, and he shrugs with a small smile. ‘I guess. It’s easy for me to say, but it’s all hypothetical, isn’t it? Neither of us actually believe you’re gonna get pregnant, and I think things would be a lot different than we’ve planned if you did, right?’ he says, and I nod in agreement, knowing it won’t be as simple as we’ve made it sound.

‘All this baby talk has actually given me baby fever,’ I say, and he laughs, his chin still resting on my stomach. ‘God, imagine if you actually did end up pregnant, princess,’ he says again, hands resting on my stomach. ‘It’d be insane. I don’t know if I’d keep it,’ I say honestly, not sure if I’m ready to provide for a kid. ‘Well, I’ll support you no matter what decision you make, you know that, right?’ he says, looking down at my stomach, and I nod, running my hands through his hair, letting the silky locks slip between my fingers. ‘We’d make a great parental unit. Can you just imagine it? Us two as a mum and dad? We’d be great,’ he says softly. ‘Yeah, but we won’t be together. We’ll just be co-parents,’ I say gently. ‘You know what we’re like, though. We end up behaving like we’re in a relationship every time we’re together anyway. I bet our kid would just think we’re together,’ he says, and I laugh, a small smile on his face as I play with his locks. ‘Are you gonna keep taking the pill now?’ he asks, and I shake my head. ‘If I do end up pregnant, taking the pill will be really bad for the embryo-slash-baby,’ I say. ‘When are you next due on your period?’ he asks, and I think for a moment. ‘What’s the date?’ ‘It’s the 18th.’ ‘Ah. I’m due tomorrow,’ I say, and Jimin’s eyes widen. ‘I guess we’ll know pretty soon then,’ he says, and I try to supress a laugh.

We both fall into a comfortable silence, Jimin’s eyes closed as he rests his face on my stomach, my hands messing with his soft hair. His hands, resting on my stomach, are adorned in different rings, as always, and I take the chance to have a proper look at them. They’re all silver, four on his right hand and two on the other. ‘I like your rings,’ I say softly, and he opens his eyes, looking up at me. ‘Which ones your favourite?’ he asks, looking up at me. ‘Uhm… this one,’ I say, tapping the one on his right little finger. It’s quite thin and looks like vines intertwined with one another, like pretty flowers. ‘Here,’ he says, taking it off and taking my hand in his. ‘This is a promise ring, okay? It signifies my promise that no matter what you decide to do with this hypothetical baby, I will support you and stand by you no matter what,’ he says, and I nod with a small smile, touched at the gesture. He slips it onto my left little finger, but it’s too loose. So he tries it on my left middle finger, but it’s too tight. So he slips it onto my left ring finger, and it fits perfectly. ‘Wait, is this your wedding ring finger?’ he asks, and I nod guardedly. ‘Do you want to put it on your other hand instead?’ he asks, before spotting the ring I already have on that finger. ‘I guess it’s just gonna have to stay here,’ I say, and he smiles. ‘What are you gonna say if people ask?’ he asks me. ‘I don’t know. I’ll just say Mija got it me,’ I say, and he frowns. ‘No, say it’s from me. Just say it was a birthday present, or something,’ he says, and I raise an eyebrow. ‘Jimin, you do know that people don’t know we know each other?’ I say, and he shrugs. ‘Well, now they will,’ he says.

We fall silent again, just enjoying each other’s company, and all I can think is that I’m making a huge mistake. Discussing children, a family, a future with Jimin is not a good idea. He’s made it clear that we have no future, at least not like that. But then he’s just sat with me and named our hypothetical/future kids! He’s so confusing. I just can’t understand him. One minute, he’s saying that he doesn’t want a relationship, and then he’s talking about our future family and giving me a promise ring! No wonder I’m falling for him so hard. He has a way with words, that everything he says just sounds like the truth. He can make you believe anything, and at the moment, he has me believing we have a future. Knowing him, if I do end up pregnant, he’ll run a mile and abandon me. There was a rumour he did that to another girl last year, and I won’t be surprised if it’s true. I decide mentally that after this whole pregnancy thing is over, he is going to be out of my life again.

‘D’you want to do something?’ he asks after a few minutes, looking up at me. ‘Like what?’ I ask suspiciously, and he sighs. ‘Not sex,’ he huffs, and I laugh. ‘Unless you want to, that is,’ he says with a mischievous smile, and I give his head a light slap. ‘I’m kidding, I’m kidding,’ he laughs, and I raise an eyebrow. ‘You’re not, though,’ I say, and he chuckles. ‘Okay, so sex is out of the question. How about we… watch a film or something?’ he asks. ‘Where? In the living room?’ I ask. ‘No, like at the cinema,’ he says, and I nearly choke. ‘Seriously? You want to go to the cinema? Isn’t that like the most relationship-y thing ever?’ I ask, and he laughs. ‘Fine, fine. We could watch something on my laptop,’ he suggests. ‘Remember last time we tried to watch something together on your laptop? We spent an hour looking for something and then ended up having sex,’ I remind him, and he grins at me. ‘I’m down for that,’ he says, and I swat out at him. ‘We could go get food?’ he suggests, and I contemplate this. ‘In a restaurant? Or get takeout and bring it back?’ I ask. ‘Either, up to you,’ he says. ‘I’d rather order food. I’m so gross, I don’t want to leave the house. Oh, actually, that’s it! I need to have a shower,’ I say, and Jimin raises an eyebrow. ‘Are you kidding me? I ask if you want to do something and you decide you want to have a shower?’ he asks, and I nod, stifling a laugh at his mildly incredulous tone. ‘Yeah, we had a threesome last night, which was so sweaty and sticky, so I definitely need to shower,’ I reply, and it’s almost like I can see the idea appearing in his mind, his eyes beginning to sparkle mischievously. ‘Yeah, okay, I’ll order the food now, and it’ll be here by the time we’re done,’ he says, trying not to smile. ‘By the time we’re done?’ I ask, with a raised eyebrow. ‘Yeah, by the time we’re done showering,’ he says, smirking. ‘Who says we’re showering together?’ I ask. ‘We should save water. Help save the planet. You know, for our Taemin, Jisoo, Minjoon and Mila,’ he says. ‘Don’t bring up our children whilst you’re trying to persuade me to have shower sex with you,’ I groan, and he chuckles. ‘I never mentioned sex, but if you’re down…?’ he says, and I sigh.

I think of the last (and only) time we had shower sex. I’m not gonna lie, it was pretty amazing, and so my final decision is influenced by that memory. ‘Fine,’ I sigh, and his eyes widen. ‘Wait, really?’ he asks, and I nod, a small smile stretching my lips. He jumps up from the bed, pulling me up after him. He presses his lips to mine, one arm wrapped around my waist and the other around my back. His lips move against mine, my mind becoming more numb by the second as one of my hands rests on his cheek, the other tangling into the hair on the back of his head. He backs us up into the bathroom, our lips still attached, tongues and teeth clashing, as he kicks the door open. We break apart from a moment, hastily slipping off our clothes, waiting until we’re both in our underwear until our arms come around each other again. He backs me up against the door, leaning down to press his lips against mine, and I thread my hands into his hair, the silky locks sliding between my fingers. I tug one of his lips between my teeth and he groans, the noise going straight to my core. Only Jimin can have me like this.

‘Get in,’ he says breathlessly, pulling away from me, and I shrug off my underwear and climb into the shower, Jimin rummaging through the cupboard under the sink before pulling out a condom, putting it up on the shower shelf. He pushes off his boxers, climbing into the shower beside me and shutting the door behind him as I turn the dial, the water beginning to pour down over our heads. He turns me to him again, pressing his body up against mine, brushing his plump lips against mine. He backs me up so my back is pressed against the wall, my head tilted back so our lips remain connected. I run my hands through his now sopping wet hair, one of his hands pressed firmly against my waist, the other resting on the side of my face. His plump lips encase mine, the feeling of his mouth on mine euphoric. I could kiss Jimin for days, not even have sex but just kiss him, and never get bored. ‘Do you need foreplay?’ Jimin asks against my mouth before his hand travels to between my legs. I spread my legs slightly, so he has better access as he runs one vascular finger across my slit, making me shiver. ‘I guess that’s a no,’ he chuckles after pulling away. ‘How do you want me?’ I ask him, and he contemplates this for a moment. ‘I want to take you from behind,’ he replies with a grin, and a shiver runs down my spine at his words. I turn around and he places a hand between my shoulder blades, pushing my back down, the water hitting the small of my back. I press my hands against the shower tiles to steady myself as he pushes one finger into me. I let out a quiet gasp, knowing I can’t be too loud because of all the other boys in the house. ‘So wet, princess,’ he murmurs through the noise of the water, pushing in another finger and twisting them around inside me. ‘Please, daddy,’ I whimper, and he chuckles. ‘Anything for you, baby girl,’ he says before his fingers disappear, the crackling of foil an indication of what’s to come. Only a few moments later, his hard length plunges all the way into me.

My head falls forwards, a moan escaping through my lips at the feeling, Jimin groaning behind me. ‘Tell me when you’re ready,’ Jimin says and I take a few deep breaths. ‘Ready,’ I reply and he begins to move in and out of me slowly, the water running down my back making it easier for him. He begins to pick up the pace, his breathing getting louder and deeper, whimpers and moans falling from my mouth every few seconds. After a short while, his fingers appear at my clit, applying slow pressure, and I know it’s so that he doesn’t cum before me. I let out a louder moan of his name, and he groans at the sound. ‘Louder, princess,’ he growls through gritted teeth. ‘But the boys, daddy,’ I reply and a hand lands on my ass, the slap resounding around the en suite. ‘If I tell you something, princess, I expect you to do it. Louder,’ he says, one hand maintaining its ministrations at my clit as the other gathers my hair into its grasp, pulling my head back. He thrusts into me particularly hard, my legs shaking at the feeling, and I let out a loud moan of his name. His fingers speed up at my clit, his hips snapping against mine repeatedly, his balls slapping against my ass. ‘Fuck, Jimin, yes, feels so good,’ I moan out, spurring him on. ‘y/n, stop fucking clenching, I’m gonna fucking cum,’ he groans, thrusts faltering slightly, his fingers rubbing at my clit furiously fast. I feel myself hurtling towards my high, my legs beginning to shake, and Jimin realises this, the hand around my hair snaking around my shoulder instead, pulling my body up towards his so he holds me up instead, the water hitting my stomach now. The new position means he’s going even deeper into me, his head grazing against the spongy spot deep inside me, having his name falling from my mouth repeatedly. ‘Shit, Jimin, I’m gonna cum,’ I moan, and he chuckles into my ear. ‘Not until I tell you to,’ he growls, and I nearly whine aloud, knowing he’ll make me hold on as long as possible. His fingers move impossibly fast at my bundle of nerves, his length still thrusting in and out of me at a furious pace, the combination of sensations having me right on the edge. ‘Please, Jimin, please, I need to cum,’ I moan. ‘Beg, princess,’ he demands, not letting up on me at all. ‘Jimin, please let me cum, your cock feels so good inside me, I need to cum, daddy, please,’ I whine, not even thinking about the words before they fall from my mouth. ‘Cum for me, princess,’ he whispers into my ear, and I know he only does so because he’s close too. My orgasm washes over me as I scream out his name, my body shaking as I come down from my high, just as Jimin reaches his own with a loud moan of my name. He holds me in place, thrusting into me as he cums, only stopping once he’s done.

We stay as we are for a couple minutes, the water falling down onto us as we take deep breaths, regaining our strength. He pulls out of me, the feeling of emptiness making me shiver as he opens the shower door, throwing the used condom into the bin beside the sink. He shuts the door again, smiling at me. ‘You’re so good, princess,’ he praises, pressing his lips to mine briefly before turning to get the shampoo from the shower shelf. I realise he has my favourite shampoo and conditioner, and I look at him in confusion as he turns back towards me. ‘What?’ he asks innocently, and I raise an eyebrow. ‘Okay, so maybe I’ve kept these since the last time you showered here,’ he says, and I laugh. We’ve only had shower sex once, but I used to shower here quite regularly, buying myself two lots of shampoo and conditioner when I went shopping; one lot for my apartment, and one lot for here. ‘Will it not have gone off by now?’ I ask, scrunching my nose, and he inspects the label. ‘It’s good for another… nine months,’ he says, and I nod, impressed it’s lasted that long. He squirts some of the shampoo into his hand, a lot more than recommended on the bottle, and then looks up at me expectantly. ‘Turn around then,’ he prompts, and I do so. His hands appear at the back of my head and he begins to massage the shampoo into my locks. The pads of his fingers against my scalp feel even better, dare I say even better than the sex we just had, and my eyes flutter closed, my head falling back so he can access the top of my head better. ‘Am I doing it right, princess? Or do you have to do it a certain way?’ he asks, breaking me out of my euphoric reverie. ‘No, you’re doing it right. I’ll do yours after,’ I say, and he chuckles lightly. ‘Okay,’ he replies, and I can hear the smile in his words.

Once he’s done with mine, I do his as I said I would before we wash it out, me going first. As he rinses his out, I shampoo mine again. We fall into a pattern, me rinsing out my second lot as he shampoos his hair again. I condition mine whilst he rinses, and lather up my body as he conditions. I rinse off my body as he lathers his up, washing his off as I lather up again. We take turns under the water, switching places wordlessly, the only noise being the running of the water, the sound of our hands and the occasional word. I begin to wash off my body for the second time as he lathers up again, joining me under the water as I rinse the conditioner from my hair. We stay under the water together for a while this time, Jimin pressing his lips against mine, and we only break apart when the water begins to turn cold. Jimin gets out first to pass me a towel from the cupboard under the sink before wrapping one around himself. I admire him as he does so, the fluffy white towel slung low on his hips, his hair pasted down to his face, droplets of water adorning his perfect body. He grins when he notices what I’m doing, puffing out his chest in a pose, and I roll my eyes, unable to keep the small smile from my face as I wrap my towel around myself. I step out of the shower, leaning over the sink to wring out my hair so it doesn’t drip everywhere, as Jimin heads into the bedroom. ‘Shit, Jimin, I don’t have any clothes. Not even any underwear!’ I exclaim, following him into the bedroom where he’s holding a bag of his out to me. I take it from him, opening it to find a load of my clothes. ‘Oh, my god, Jimin! You kept these?’ I ask, and he nods proudly, obviously misreading my emotions. I hit him with the bag, and he yelps, jumping away from me hastily. ‘What was that for?’ he asks reproachfully, pouting adorably at me. ‘So you didn’t think to bring any of this to me?’ I ask, emptying it out over the bed.

It’s mostly underwear, expensive lingerie that I thought I’d lost, but there’s some other stuff in there too; a pair of jeans, some leggings, a hoodie, a couple tops, a leather jacket and a super cute sexy dressing gown I’d worn on Jimin’s birthday as a treat for him. ‘I didn’t think,’ he admits, and I shaky my head. ‘I washed it all for you, though,’ he says, and I try so hard not to smile at the thought of him washing my clothes in secret, not wanting the boys to catch him. I turn to look at him, looking so adorable, and I sigh in defeat. ‘Thank you, Jimin,’ I say, and he smiles widely, his eyes disappearing. I pick a pair of black pants and bra, pulling them onto my damp body. ‘God, you look so good,’ Jimin says, now wearing just a pair of black boxers. ‘Says you,’ I say, pressing brief kiss to his cheek. ‘Have you got any deodorant I could use? Like an unscented one, or something?’ I ask, and he grins, disappearing into the bathroom. He appears a moment later with the brand of deodorant I’ve used for years. I laugh as I take it from him, applying it under my arms, when someone knocks at the door. ‘Who is it?’ Jimin calls as I shrug on the dressing gown. It’s black and sheer with fur around the sleeves and bottom hem which reaches mid-thigh. ‘Jungkook!’ the younger boy shouts from the other side of the door and Jimin looks at me, the question on his face. ‘Come in!’ I call, knowing he saw me stark naked yesterday, so this sexy dressing gown is nothing. The boy steps in tentatively, eyes falling first on Jimin, and then me.

‘Did you guys just have shower sex?’ Jungkook asks, shutting the door behind him and settling himself onto Jimin’s bed, on top of my clothes. I tut quietly and he grins at me, not moving. ‘Yes, we did,’ Jimin replies with a smile. ‘Thought so. The whole damn frat could hear,’ he says, chewing on the gum in his mouth. ‘Why ask then?’ I ask. ‘Thought I’d see if you’d lie,’ he replies, offering me some gum which I accept with a small smile. ‘Jimin, where’s your hairdryer?’ I ask. ‘Top drawer,’ he says, pointing to the chest of drawer pushed against one wall, a big mirror sat atop it. I take out the hairdryer, plugging it into a socket as Jimin and Jungkook speak about something I’m not paying attention to as I’ve zoned out. ‘What’d you think, y/n?’ Jimin asks me, and I turn to look over at them. ‘Sorry, what? I wasn’t paying attention,’ I say. ‘Party down at Kappa Phi Nu tonight?’ he asks, and I raise an eyebrow. ‘Kappa Phi Nu?’ I ask, for two different reasons. First being that Kappa Phi Nu are Jimin’s frat, Alpha Sigma Phi’s, rivals and second being that my ex, Eunwoo, is part of Kappa Phi Nu. ‘Okay, I know they’re our rivals which is an even better reason to go. We’ll show up super late and then make it way more fun so everyone knows that we’re the better frat. They’re always too pussy to come to our parties, so we’ll show them who’s boss. Steal their drugs, their alcohol and their girls,’ Jungkook says. ‘Don’t objectify girls,’ I say absentmindedly, thinking about Eunwoo. ‘That’s not the reason why she doesn’t wanna go, Kook,’ Jimin says before walking towards me, tapping my chin so I look up at him.

‘Listen, y/n, we don’t have to go if you don’t want to, but I think it’ll be good for you to see him again, not as a couple like the last time you saw him. And you’re the one who broke up with him, remember, so you can’t act all heartbroken over him,’ Jimin reminds me gently, not a single ounce of venom in his voice. ‘It’s not that. It’s just… it’s been so long since I saw him, and I feel bad. I saw him, about a year ago, and he tried to get back with me, Jimin. I don’t want to have to go through rejecting him again,’ I say, and he nods thoughtfully. ‘If you’re with me, he won’t try,’ Jimin says. ‘We’re not dating, though. We’re friends,’ I say, Jungkook snorting at my words. ‘He doesn’t need to know that. If he thinks we’re together, he won’t try anything,’ Jimin says, and I think over his words for a minute. ‘I don’t have any clothes,’ I say, and he tilts his head questioningly, motioning over to the bed with a raised eyebrow. ‘My makeup’s at the dorm,’ I say weakly, and he sighs. ‘You don’t need it but if you wanna wear some that bad, call Mija and get her to bring you some. The two of you can get ready together in here,’ Jimin says, purposely making it so that there is nothing I can blame saying no on. ‘Fine,’ I give in, and he grins widely, Kook cheering from the bed as Jimin presses a quick kiss to my lips. ‘You taste like mint,’ he observes, moving away from me to find something from his wardrobe.

‘Wait, Jimin, where’s my phone?’ I ask, and he motions to the clutch sat on the bedside table. Jungkook reaches out, throwing it to me, and I catch it deftly, pulling out my phone and leaving the bag on top of the chest of drawers. I’ve had several missed calls and texts from Mija and I curse inwardly as I dial her number, knowing I’m in for it now. ‘So you aren’t dead then?’ she says coldly when she answers the phone. ‘No, babe, I’m not, and I’m sorry. I only woke up like an hour ago,’ I say, and she tuts. ‘You’re still at the frat?’ she asks. ‘Yeah, I am, and I’m safe,’ I say, Jimin and Jungkook watching me in amusement. ‘What happened last night? I assumed you’d gone upstairs with Jimin and that you’d stay the night, but it’s now 3pm. I thought you’d be home by now,’ she says. ‘I know, I know. But Jin made me food and then I had a shower and now I’ve only just remembered to call you,’ I say. ‘Well, when are you coming back?’ she asks. ‘I was actually thinking you should come here,’ I begin, and she laughs. ‘What for?’ she asks. ‘The KPN boys are having a party tonight and we’re going and you should come,’ I say, and she stays silent for a minute. ‘So why would I come to you now then?’ she asks. ‘Because their frat is within walking distance of here so if you bring your stuff, we can sleep over here tonight instead of paying for a taxi home or one of us having to drive. And if you come over now, Jimin said we can use his room to get ready together. You just have to bring our makeup and stuff with you,’ I say, and she sighs. ‘Do all the boys know about you and Jimin now?’ she asks. ‘Yeah, they do.’ ‘So you’re just gonna end up spending the night with him, right? What about me? And that’s Eunwoo’s frat, right? This is just a recipe for disaster.’ ‘No, Mija, I would never ditch you for Jimin,’ I say, Jimin pretending to be hurt in front of me. ‘I know, but I don’t want to stop you two spending time together,’ she says. ‘No, you’re my girl, and I enjoy spending time with you, just as much as with Jimin. Even more, to be honest,’ I say, Jungkook bursting into laughter and Jimin hitting him with a pillow, the two of them beginning to fight. ‘And, anyway, you and Tae are good friends, right? You can chill with him for a bit too,’ I say. ‘We do the same course. Does not mean we’re friends,’ she says, and I sigh. ‘Well, regardless. And Eunwoo doesn’t matter. I’m not gonna even look at him all night and if he comes to speak to me, I’ll leave,’ I say, and she sighs. ‘Fine. I’ll be there in twenty,’ she says. ‘Wait, wait. Can you bring food?’ I ask, and she sighs again. ‘Make that forty.’

‘God, who knew you two were so domestic?’ Mija’s sarcastic voice comes from the door. ‘Mija. It’s been a while,’ Jimin says with a grin, holding out a fist which Mija bumps her own against. ‘Where’s the food?’ I ask her, sat on the floor in front of Jimin who sits on the bed, brushing through my now dry hair, the mirror set up on the floor in front of me, leaning against the wall. ‘Here,’ she says, thrusting out a pizza box to me. I take a bite of the first slice, holding it up above my head for Jimin to take a bite, Mija watching us amusedly. ‘Right, when are we going to this party?’ she asks. ‘Not until around 8.30ish,’ Jimin says. ‘You’re kidding? Four and a half hours?’ she asks, Jimin nodding with a small smile. ‘The boys are just about to start watching Me Before You downstairs so bye,’ she says, disappearing out of the room, leaving a big bag lying on Jimin’s bed. ‘Does she hate me?’ Jimin asks, and I laugh. ‘No, of course not. She’s the one who told me to text you on Thursday night,’ I say, and he raises an eyebrow. ‘Mija can just come across as… I don’t know, hostile? Mean? But honestly, she’s a good person with a good heart. And she likes you,’ I say, and he nods. ‘Can I ask you something?’ I say after a few moments of silence, Jimin nodding, watching me in the mirror. ‘Do you guys not get along with the other boys in the frat?’ I ask. ‘No, we do. They’re great boys, but we’re all kind of… split up into groups, I guess? All the other boys kind of stick together based on their ages, but us seven just get along. We’re the only group that aren’t age-based, because our relationships stretch beyond that. But, yeah, the other boys are great. We just aren’t as close to them,’ he explains, and I nod. ‘I just wondered. It’s always seemed like everyone’s divided, but I get it now,’ I say.

Over the course of the next couple hours, Jimin and I get ready, taking our time. We sing along to my playlist which plays gently in the background, Jimin doing his hair as I iron a white shirt for him and a black bodysuit of mine, creased after being crumpled up in Jimin’s bag for god knows how long. I begin doing my makeup as Jimin styles his hair, taking ridiculously long. We’re both in and out of the bedroom and the bathroom, repeatedly bumping into each other, getting cuddles and kisses from him each time. It gets to around 6.30 and Jimin’s ready, his white shirt tucked into a pair of black ripped jeans, a silver bomber jacket over the top, black brogues on his feet. His dirty blond hair is swept back, exposing his forehead, silver earrings in his ears and silver rings on his fingers. He’s laid out on his bed, scrolling through his phone, as I make the last few finishing touches to my makeup, misting the setting spray over my face. I’ve paired black jeans and black heels with my bodysuit, my makeup light and natural, only a pair of silver hoops in my ears and Jimin’s silver ring on my ring finger, my own rose gold ring on the other. ‘You look great, princess,’ Jimin praises, eyes raking over me. ‘I feel like something’s missing,’ I sigh, frowning at myself in the mirror. Someone knocks at the door then and I cross over to open it, letting Namjoon in. ‘Hey, hyung,’ Jimin smiles at the older boy. ‘Hey, Chim. You guys both look nice,’ Namjoon says. ‘I don’t know, Joon, I feel like I’m missing something,’ I say, and he inspects my appearance thoughtfully. ‘Ah, I’ve got it!’ he exclaims, darting from the room excitedly, a few banging noises audible from his room down the hall before he reappears, something silver and sparkling in his hand. ‘Here,’ he says, holding it up to my neck, and I let him clasp it on, before he turns me towards the mirror. A thick silver choker sits at my neck, looking like genuine diamonds, and I remember when Namjoon wore it, looking more beautiful than ever. ‘Ah, Joon, I love it!’ I exclaim happily, turning to hug the boy, Jimin watching us with a smile. ‘Keep it, it looks nice on you,’ he says, and I raise an eyebrow. ‘As beautiful as it is, hell no. It looked way better on you,’ I insist, and he laughs.

‘Anyway, I came up to ask if you guys want food. We ordered Panda Express,’ Namjoon says. ‘There won’t be any left if Tae’s had his hands on it,’ Jimin says. ‘And Mija, she’s crazy for it,’ I say, Namjoon grinning. ‘It hasn’t arrived yet, and we haven’t told them. They’re in Tae’s room,’ Namjoon says. At his words, Jimin sits up instantly, our eyes meeting, wide with shock. ‘They’re in Tae’s room? Just them two?’ Jimin asks. ‘No, I think Kook’s with them,’ Namjoon says, and Jimin rolls his eyes. ‘God, he’s such a third wheel,’ I mutter. ‘We’ll be down in a minute, hyung,’ Jimin says, Namjoon nodding before leaving. ‘You look so good,’ Jimin says, climbing off the bed and walking over to me. ‘Says you,’ I reply, hooking my arms around his neck. ‘No, you look better than me. Silver’s definitely your colour,’ he says, arms sliding around my waist. ‘No, it’s yours,’ I reply, tapping his jacket. ‘Aww, we’re matching,’ he says with a grin, and I roll my eyes. ‘God, we’re gonna look like such a sickly couple. Eunwoo can’t even make any mistakes as to whether or not we’re together,’ I say, Jimin laughing. ‘The worst thing is, we’re not even together and we play the couple better than real couples,’ he says, having me nodding in agreement.

‘I can’t wait to take this off you tonight,’ I say, a hand on his jacket over his chest. ‘Yeah? Tell me more, babe,’ he says, voice low, looking down at me. ‘When we’re walking back and I’m cold, I’ll take this off you and wear it myself,’ I say, trying to hold back my laughter. ‘That’s not what I meant!’ he exclaims indignantly as I burst into laughter, running away from him and out of the room. ‘Don’t run away!’ he shouts behind me, running after me. I sprint down the stairs, trying not to fall in my heels, Jimin thundering along behind me. I burst into the kitchen where the other boys sit and stand around, Jimin hot on my heels. He grabs me as I try to duck behind Hobi, tickling me. I burst into fits of giggles as his fingers work at my sides, my eyes clamped shut, my hands fruitlessly trying to push him away. ‘Stop, stop, I’m sorry,’ I breathe out through my laughter, Jimin finally letting up with a grin on his face, both of us panting. ‘Hello to you too,’ Yoongi says dryly, not taking his eyes off his phone. ‘You two are so annoyingly cute,’ Jin says with a roll of his eyes. ‘Um, thanks?’ Jimin says as I jump up onto the island, legs swinging. ‘You look nice, y/n,’ Hobi says, and I grin at him as Jimin takes the seat beside my legs. ‘Thank you. You guys all look nice too,’ I smile as I take Jimin’s hand in mine, fingers playing with his cold rings. They’re all dressed in flattering outfits, jeans or trousers with smart tops and nice jackets, pretty jewellery and shoes to match. ‘Wait, y/n, is that… is that Jimin’s ring?’ Namjoon asks, eyeing the ring on my finger. I look at Jimin expectantly, waiting for him to answer the question, but he just grins back at me, leaving it to me. ‘Uh, yeah, it is,’ I say, the boys all staring at us in silence. ‘And you two aren’t dating?’ Jin asks sceptically, both of us shaking our heads. ‘Right, okay,’ he replies, shaking his head despairingly.

The doorbell rings then, Hobi running out of the room to answer the door. ‘How can you guys afford all this stuff? The house and the parties and the clothes and the shoes and the food and the hair dye,’ I say, the boys laughing. ‘Jin’s dad owns this house so we don’t have to pay rent, and we all have ‘jobs’ at Jin’s dad��s company so that’s where we get our money from,’ Yoongi explains, putting quote marks with his fingers around the word jobs. ‘It’s not like that,’ Jin sighs, Namjoon raising an eyebrow. ‘What is it like then?’ ‘Yeah, he owns the house, but we still pay rent to him,’ Jin begins, Jimin interrupting. ‘We don’t. The other boys do,’ he says, my eyes widening. ‘No, it’s just because we have jobs with him that we don’t have to pay rent,’ Jin explains. ‘What are your jobs?’ I ask as Hobi walks back in, hands full of Panda Express bags. ‘One day a week, we have to drive up to Head Office, about fifteen minutes from here, and do any deliveries they need doing,’ Jin says. ‘So Jin hyung has Mondays, Yoongi hyung on Tuesdays, Hobi hyung on Wednesdays, me on Thursdays, Jiminie on Fridays, Taehyungie on Saturdays and Jungkookie on Sundays,’ Namjoon explains, my heart warming at hearing the nicknames he has for his dongsaengs. ‘So is it a lot of work?’ I ask as Jin begins unpackaging everything, dividing it up onto plates. ‘I don’t want much, hyung,’ Jimin says to him. ‘Nor me,’ I add. ‘We’ll just share,’ Jimin says, smiling up at me, before answering my question. ‘It’s not much work at all. There’s usually about three deliveries a day, and Jin’s dad pays for our petrol, so it’s literally so fine,’ Jimin explains. ‘Is it well paid?’ I ask, the boys laughing. ‘Very well paid,’ Namjoon replies, and I smile at the thought of Jin’s dad looking after them all so well.

‘Shall I text Jungkook? Tell them to come down?’ I ask, Jin nodding as he hands out our plates. I text Jungkook, hearing them all running down the stairs mere seconds later. Mija’s dressed in a black bodysuit with a grey leather skirt, a pair of heeled ankle boots on her feet and her makeup natural like mine. Jungkook and Tae look smart too, like the other boys, and I notice that Tae has on a grey bomber jacket, the same colour as Mija’s skirt. Jimin seems to notice too, the two of us exchanging a little glance. I scoop some food up onto a fork and go to put it in my mouth when Jimin opens his cheekily, wanting me to feed him. I roll my eyes before feeding him, and that’s how we eat; me taking a bite before feeding the next one to Jimin. ‘You two are so gross,’ Mija says, looking at us. ‘They’re like so domestic. It’s super weird,’ Jungkook agrees. ‘I think it’s cute,’ Hobi says. ‘No, it’s weird,’ Yoongi says. ‘Oh, my god, leave us alone!’ Jimin exclaims in false hurt. ‘Yeah, get off our dicks,’ I add, feeding Jimin a bite. ‘When you get off his dick,’ Tae replies, and I roll my eyes, the others laughing. For the next hour and a half, we all just chill in the kitchen, laughing and joking together. Mija and Tae sit next to one another, awfully close, and Jimin and I exchange excited glances every time we see the two of them talking quietly or laughing together. Being with the boys in such a relaxed environment is nice, getting to know the sober versions of them and seeing their relationships with one another. But, of course, nothing good lasts forever. At 8.30, we decide we’re going to take shots every five minutes up to 9 when we’ll head down to the party, all of us getting more and more drunk with each one. ‘Right, bitches!’ Jin exclaims, ‘you ready to crash a party?’

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