#this fine line MK walks is so interesting because like

[imminent-danger-came]

You know also just realized that MK is the "Plan Man" and Destiny has been explicitly stated as "having plans" (great or foul), like MK is Destiny or could go toe to toe with Destiny, depending on whether or not their plans converge or differ.

[atlasofthestaars]

[MK X READER] New Era - Chapter .006

first part | previous part | next part

NOTE: Not sure if the beginning needs any warnings and what to label it? But it is a little more dreary than the rest of the story has been previously, so take note of that.

Originally was going to be a bit of a faster paced chapter, but I started writing in like, the complete opposite way, and I kinda liked where it went so I just rolled with it. So it’s a little bit slower of a chapter this time, but I hope the fluff makes up for it since it has moments with the champion squad.

Hopefully, according to my plans, we should only have a few more chapters left in the pre-outworld arc? I think about chapter 11 is where we will hop back to it with the mini tournament for Earthrealm’s champion, but that estimate may change depending on the ideas I have. I just want to make sure we have plenty of time with all the Earthrealm men before we head back into more of the plot.

Looks like Shang Tsung is part of the official love interest line up! This actually quite heavily affects the story, so hopefully you all will be pleased by how it turns out when that part rolls around! Reiko did not make the cut, sorry to all those who wanted him! He will get screentime, but the reader will have a different type of dynamic with him due to this. 

Also double whammy poll! While we have a lot of lovely men to fall for, someone asked about Kitana and Mileena! So here’s your time to let me know your thoughts on them! (Especially Mileena, because it WILL change whether I portray Mileena x Tanya in this fic or if Mileena is not with her so she can be romanceable).

I LIED I JUST REALIZED I CAN ONLY DO ONE POLL AT A TIME. KITANA WILL BE NEXT CHAPTER, THEN HAVIK WILL BE AFTER THAT.

FROM THE EYES OF ONE WHO HAS STRUGGLES RELAXING

Turns out, you struggle with forcing yourself to relax.

It was odd, you had been content before with a life of a simple routine. All you had to do before was train yourself and be at Liu Kang’s side as your duties, you could do whatever else you wished for the rest of the day. Most times that meant going on long walks and trying to decipher your memories. 

It was a routine you settled on after many had decided you needed no further routine training, and after a certain incident. Of course, you pushed yourself to train with others occasionally nowadays, but you were a student no longer.

It was a routine most were happy you had, for before that simple routine, you had found yourself often run ragged. You often went from place to place, too ambitious to train, too ambitious to strive for more. In between those training sessions, you found yourself often running around doing too many tasks that others had given you upon your request. You sometimes skipped meals, and sometimes cut hours of sleep to try and cram everything into your schedule.

It wasn’t like no one noticed the way you were slowly ruining yourself, they did, you just ignored their concerns. You waved it off, saying you were fine. You found yourself saying that line to Liu Kang the most, who always seemed to want to stop you.

It got so bad even Bi-Han had to sit you down and scold you for how exhausted you had become.

“Fool, don’t you know you’re inconveniencing everyone else when you destroy yourself like this!?” He had told you, pinning you with a harsh glare. He had slammed his hands on the desk, ice spreading from his hands onto the desk from his frustration. 

You had, of course, defended yourself in every which way back then. Who cares if you were tired? You had to get things done so others could relax. Why did he insinuate that you were a burden when clearly everyone else was benefitting from this? Those points and many more were tossed between you two, and that had caused a large argument between you two for a long time.

That grudge between you two carried for a while. You had been too stubborn to admit Bi-Han was right. How could you? That’d be admitting defeat.

And you loathed defeat.

Furthermore, that meant that you had to stop doing stuff for people. Certainly you could not stop your training, that would lead to you weakening. You had to get stronger! People were counting on you, and you had a feeling that you just had to get stronger, even without thinking of others. The tiny voice in your head was screaming that you had to.

And if you didn’t cut down on training, you had to stop doing tasks. And how could you tell someone that you couldn’t do something for them? The idea of the look of disappointment followed by a pitiful “it’s alright” scared you. You already promised so many people many things, you couldn’t just go around and tell them that you couldn’t all of a sudden.

You’d be a disappointment.

So you deluded yourself that you were doing the right thing, letting yourself get carried away. It was a harsh, dark part of your life. It was a part of your life you were not proud of. You pushed many people away. Kuai Liang, Tomas, Madam Bo, Master Kai…so many people that kept on telling you to end this foolish pursuit.

You didn’t listen.

You carried on with your destructive lifestyle, aiming to try and do anything and everything all at once. If you could do it all, everyone else would be happy, and that’s all you wanted. You lied often, saying that you were okay, and tried to cover it up with a weary smile

It wasn’t until you had collapsed during training and gone unconscious for nearly a day that Liu Kang stepped in.

“I have been a fool.” Liu Kang had murmured when you had awoken that day, You felt faint, nauseous, and so many things all at once. He had reached a hand to touch your forehead, eyebrows furrowed with worry. “I should have realized earlier that you had been running yourself into the ground, I should have trusted my own instincts and never let you go this far.” 

“I’m fine.” You had insisted, trying to sit up. The god had to force you down, which was easy in your weakened state. He had instructed you to take a break until you were better. “How long?” You had asked, your voice hoarse as you asked desperately, feeling the grip of fear at the idea of becoming useless for the people that meant so much for you.

“As long as it takes.” Liu Kang replied, with a tone of finality. Back then, those words were like a death sentence. Nowadays, you realized it had been a blessing in disguise. You try not to think of how long those days felt, constantly being shadowed by one of the Lin Kuei brothers or even Madam Bo. It was painful to think of, some days. But then again, it wasn’t all bad.

After all, that’s the main reason you had gotten closer with all of them. 

Kuai Liang had been helpful, giving you advice and being there at your aid any time you needed. He had been a good person to confide in, for he never shamed you for the worries you carried. He was a gentle flame, providing the warmth you did not know you needed in your life.

Tomas had been a welcoming presence, giving you laughs and joy in a situation where you struggled. He was much more playful than his brothers, and the dreary days were always made a bit bright with him around. He had been encouraging too in his own ways, telling you that being vulnerable was okay. You were okay.

The other two were a bit more harsh. Madam Bo had given you harsh lectures, but in a loving way. You could tell you had terrified her with your decline in health. Those days she had given you so much food you felt often full. You were happy though, her cooking really was the best. Eventually you had learned some cooking from her to pass the time.

You still had to learn how to perfect her recipes.

Bi-Han’s shadowing at first was easily the worst. Days that felt like were filled with tension, some days you felt like you could not breathe. Then, some other days it felt like you would rather be asleep with the rants he had given you, telling you on how you should have listened to him. Eventually, the frost around the situation melted, and the days went from tense and dreadful with him, to more comforting.

Eventually he became a person you learned the world through, as begrudging as it was, he answered your many questions. And when your questions ceased, the two of you could turn to occasional conversation, ones where you both were a little more open with each other, a bit more honest. Even the silences began to feel comforting.

Occasionally, Liu Kang would take over shadowing you. It wasn’t as common as the other four, but it happened often enough. At first, you were filled with guilt whenever you were around him. You had failed the fire god, but he had told you that you did no such thing.

“I have failed you, instead.”

It mystified you, but you chose not to question it. You weren’t certain what you’d do with the answers to the questions you had about that statement. You ended up developing most of your healthy habits with Liu Kang, falling into a simple routine. You ended up developing the habit of watching the sunrise with him during these times.

Days had blended into weeks, and weeks into months, and you slowly were allowed your responsibilities again. You had been allowed to train much earlier than your responsibilities so your body would not weaken, but the responsibilities felt much more significant.

Slowly, you were given room to breathe and develop your own routine. One that was…less rigorous, one that everyone agreed that was healthy and safe for you.

You guessed your inability to relax was still a remnant of the insatiable workaholic from back then. Your mind was filled once again with responsibilities, plans, and schedules. Training the champions, the tournament…so many big things to worry about.

You worried that you didn’t have time to do everything if you relaxed, and you knew how important these tasks that were ahead of you were.

It was almost instinct to dive into everything, try to take the burden of everyone and force it upon yourself.

You were really trying though, to relax. You couldn’t bear to see the concerned looks on their faces again.

“You know, you’re doing an awful job at taking a break.” Johnny pointed out as he pulled up next to you, snapping you out of your reverie. You watched with curiosity as he pulled out his phone. You had vague memories of technology from what you presumed to be your past life, but you haven’t really used it in this life.

“I’m just watching, is that so wrong?” You inquired, trying and failing to fend off the defensive side that tried to come out. You sent him a raised eyebrow, looking at him. He sent you the sassiest look, peering at you. 

“No.” He said, shrugging as he returned his attention back to his phone. “But I can see that calculating look in your eye, teach.” Johnny said, tapping the side of his head with his two fingers. “You’re not just idly watching, you’re thinking. That’s the same look my directors get when they’re reviewing a scene, and trust me, that’s anything but relaxing.”

You huffed, crossing your arms. As much as others thought otherwise, Johnny Cage was smart and observant.

“Plus, when people usually say they’re taking a break they’re usually off doing their, like, hobbies or something.” Johnny continued, pausing for a moment before looking back at you. “You do have hobbies right?”

“I refuse to elaborate.” You said after a few moments of contemplation. You really couldn’t think of anything that was a hobby of yours. Sure, you liked to cook, but that wasn’t a hobby you found yourself doing all too often outside of meal times. 

The only other thing you could think of that you did often was try and make sense of your memories. And that was something you could do for hours on end. But it was all too confusing, and it gave you a major headache. Aside from the fact that you didn’t exactly want to think of those memories right now, you had a feeling that also didn’t count as relaxing.

So your next best bet at doing something to relax was watching the students of the Wu Shi academy train.

Were you really that boring?

“You…don’t have hobbies?” Johnny asked, pulling a face that made you frown. “No wonder you’re struggling to relax.” He said, scratching the back of his neck. You had an urge to defend yourself, but you averted your eyes instead, knowing that trying to defend yourself was fruitless. You really didn’t have anything to defend yourself with in the first place.

“Living a life like mine leaves little time for hobbies.” You said, which was partially a lie. You had time, and lots of it before you were entrusted with training the four of them. So you certainly could have picked up some hobbies. 

But you never knew what to do. There weren’t many people in the Fire Temple who had hobbies you could indulge in, and it wasn’t like you were too close with them either. And, oddly enough, you were a bit embarrassed to ask the Lin Kuei brothers for any ideas on hobbies.

Plus, it was annoying trekking through the snow just to ask for something small like that.

“Okay, so hobbies are out of the question, got it.” Johnny said, before humming and looking up, contemplating over things. “Don’t you have anything else to do, like reading, or watching movies?” He suggested.

“I’ve read all the books they have in the Fire Temple, they’re pretty boring and not worth a reread.” You said, sighing as you remembered the lack of interesting literature. You’ve thought about asking Liu Kang for the chance to get better reading material, but you didn’t want to sound…rude. “And I’ve never watched a movie.”

That wasn’t totally true, you’ve probably watched a movie in your past life, but you’ve never done that in this life.

“You’ve never…what?” Johnny Cage said, seeming to be caught off guard by the confession. You’ve never seen such a look on his face before, one that was both shocked and almost…offended? You supposed it only made sense that he out of everyone reacted this way. Acting was his lifeblood. “You’re kidding me.”

“I’m not.” You said, raising your hands up trying to show no offense. You couldn’t help but let out a chuckle at the look Johnny was sending you. He was so,,,expressive. It was really entertaining. Is that why people liked watching him so much?

“We’ve got to right that wrong immediately.” Johnny said, a determined look on his face. He shoved his phone into his pocket. “We’re going to have a movie marathon. You get to relax and see a bunch of great movies, win-win.” The actor declared.

“A bunch of great movies, huh?” Kenshi said, approaching the two of you as he sheathed his sword. He looked between the two of you, sending a pointed look towards Johnny Cage. “I’m guessing you’re going to try and show our instructor a bunch of your movies, Cage?”

“You know it, tattoo.” Johnny confirmed with a self confident smirk. You nodded towards Kenshi, who acknowledged it back with a nod of his own. “Don’t look so prissy, you and the farmer boys are invited too if you want.” You glanced towards Kenshi, raising an eyebrow out of curiosity. 

“That doesn’t sound so bad.” Kenshi conceded, much to your surprise. “I get to help pick the movies, though. We’re not watching a marathon of the Ninja Priest movies, they’re all the same.” You watched as Johnny groaned, clearly disagreeing with the swordsman.

“Whatever, you just have bad taste.” The actor huffed, rolling his eyes. He took out a paper and pen from gods knew where, and tossed it towards Kenshi who sent him a puzzled look. “Go design whatever list you want, just know I’ll be blaming you if teach over here,” He gestured towards you, “thinks movies suck.” He stretched before pointing his thumb away from the courtyard. “Now I gotta bounce, gotta make arrangements to make this whole shebang work.” He turned towards you. “You go figure out how to relax, or whatever, meet here tomorrow night.”

And without much more explanation, the actor jogged off, leaving both you and Kenshi behind.

“What did I just get myself into?”

“I’m surprised you’ve never seen a movie.” Raiden commented after he and Kung Lao met you at the entrance of the Wu Shi academy. He and Kung Lao walked beside you as you traversed down the hall, dressed in more casual clothes as opposed to the uniforms they usually wore. With amusement, you noticed how they were not wearing the hats for once. The clothes they wore reminded you of the clothes they donned during the exams.

“In the Fire Temple, we don’t have much, if any, technology.” You explained, not elaborating much further. After all, it’d be hard to explain the whole ‘you might have watched one in a past life, but you barely remembered anything about it’ ordeal. “Johnny seemed very offended that I’ve never watched one, it was a sight to behold.”

“It makes sense, that is what he is known for.” Kung Lao pointed out, shrugging. 

“Have either of you seen Johnny Cage’s works?” You inquired, looking between the Fengjian men. You were a bit surprised that they knew about movies, knowing that they both hailed from a simple village. Then again, you supposed you were being hasty in assuming their area was as technology deprived as the Fire Temple was.

“A few.” Kung Lao answered, thinking a bit before grinning. “Their techniques were totally wrong, but they sure do know how to make something entertaining.” He admitted before cockily laughing and pressing a hand to his chest. “Of course, I think if I were there to help them, they would be much better.”

“I saw a few as well.” Raiden piped up, smiling towards you. “They were flashy, and like Kung Lao said, very inaccurate, but I actually enjoyed watching them.” He put on a thoughtful look. “I think you’ll like them too, as long as you look past the technicalities.”

“I hope so too.” You said, humming. “Otherwise this would be a rather bad introduction to movies.” You joked, knowing that you could probably look past the most egregious techniques. All you wanted was a chance to relax, and you hoped to the gods that this was going to work.

“Fret not, teach, I made sure to look through Ken-bro’s list.” Johnny said as he turned the corner, a grand grin on his face. “He chose a few decent ones, but I made sure to add the best of my works in there too.” In his arms he held a large of what you believed to be popcorn. You inhaled, and you felt a bit nostalgic for a reason you weren’t quite sure.

“I tried to keep the list decent, so don’t blame me if Cage ruined it.” Kenshi quipped as he also rounded the corner, holding another big bowl of popcorn. You looked between them, noting how this was the first time you’ve seen both Johnny and Kenshi were something more casual. It wasn’t too bad of a look.

“I’m sure it’ll be fine.” You said, grinning as you crossed your arms. The actor led all of you to a room you knew had not been previously used much. “You’ve all brought up my expectations, are films really that good?”

“Oh trust me, films can get good, especially action films I’ve been in.” Johnny cackled, and you stifled a laugh as you noticed how the group had all collectively rolled their eyes. He opened the door for you all. You marveled at the projector that had been set up, along with a basic couch that seemed big enough for you all to lounge on, more or less. “Hollywood magic will astound you, trust me.”

“I’m already astounded by all of this.” You admit, walking over to the projector. Seeing technology sent a wave of nostalgia through you, and you smiled. Something about this all brought a hazy vision of you and Johnny sitting in a room doing something similar to this, but there had been four other younger people with you instead.

How odd.

“Where did you get all of this?” Raiden asked, looking at the set up of the room. “I don’t think the monks normally have any of this stuff,” He observed as he made his way to the couch. “Well, maybe the couch makes sense.” He said, before sitting on it carefully.

“It’s a secret, my friend.” The actor replied, and you all sent him a look. He groaned and sighed. “You’re all no fun. I asked the big boss, Lord Liu Kang.” He said, shrugging as he also took his place on the couch, on the other end of the couch. “I explained how our instructor was struggling to relax and how I pitched a movie night to you. He seemed pleased by the idea, and was willing to give me all of this stuff.” 

You were surprised. Liu Kang was the one who helped Johnny out? The idea of it made you feel warm.

“Lord Liu Kang did all of this?” Kung Lao echoed your thoughts, nodding slowly as he looked around. He put on a face that told you he seemed to approve, and plopped down right next to Raiden. You found yourself not knowing where to sit, before Kenshi stepped beside you and tilted his head to indicate the spot where you should go.

Right between where he would go and Johnny Cage.

You supposed that wasn’t too bad. 

Taking the advice, you walked over to the spot he suggested and sat yourself carefully, making sure to leave room for Kenshi, while making sure you didn’t intrude on Johnny’s. 

“Popcorn?” Johnny offered, holding the bowl out to you. As he did so, you noticed as he turned on the movie, it starting the movie which seemed to be labeled “Ninja Mime”. Shrugging, you took a small handful, popping the food into your mouth.

This was going to be interesting, wasn’t it?

“Wow, that was…amazing.” 

“See! I told you, Hollywood magic.” Johnny Cage said, a satisfied smirk on his lips as he looked over to you. You rolled your eyes but nodded, conceding to the fact that you had honestly enjoyed seeing the film. It was goofy, wacky, and just the thing you needed.

“If you think that’s good, you should watch other types of movies.” Kung Lao piped up, before shoving a handful of popcorn into his mouth. He had stolen the bowl from Kenshi shortly after the movie started, taking most of the buttery goodness for himself. You watched with silent amusement as Raiden sneakily stole a handful. “Comedies, romances, there’s more than just Johnny’s actions.”

“Why would anyone need to watch anything but my movies?” Johnny bragged, earning silence and stares from the group, mostly from Kenshi. He rolled his eyes. “Whatever, but other types of movies are for another night.” He said, waving off the silent complaints.

“We’ll have another night?” You inquired, peering at the actor with a curious look. He grinned and shrugged.

“As long as you let us, teach.” The American said, before gesturing to the projector. “First, we gotta go through the list we made first.” You watched as Johnny got up to set up the next movie. Kenshi leaned over, looking at you with a small smile.

“The next movie is going to be better, trust me.” The swordsman told you, a slight tone of playfulness in his voice. “I made sure to also introduce you to some of Cage’s better works.” You raised an eyebrow, surprised at the fact that the man was even a fan of Johnny’s works in the first place.

“I’ll be sure to hold my expectations high then.” You replied back. sending the man a small smile as you took yet another handful of popcorn. It was almost addicting to eat alongside the movie. “How many movies are we watching?” You asked, suddenly aware of the time that had passed as you spied the clock that hung on the wall.

An hour and a half passed? That movie felt like mere minutes!

“I believe we’re watching two more, including the next one.” Raiden informed you, leaning forward to look at you. “Johnny wanted to do a bigger marathon, but Kenshi and I advocated that we only do three since you haven’t watched many and we weren’t sure if you would like them all.”

“Next time, let Raiden and I pick some movies, too.” Kung Lao also mentioned, looking back to the actor who had just finished swapping the movies. 

“As long as your choices don’t suck.” Johnny said before plopping down next to you. He spread out, his thigh touching yours, but you didn’t quite mind. “Alright, buckle up, time to start the next one.” 

That night was the first time in a long time you remembered drifting off to sleep on accident. 

You felt something shift, and you were pulled out of the arms of sleep. Yawning, you covered your mouth as you looked around. The projector was running the last bits of a movie you had no recollection of. You blinked as you also registered how you were leaning on someone. 

Looking up, you were surprised to see Kenshi sleeping peacefully, allowing you to have rest on him. Or had he fallen asleep first? Your memory was hazy. Either way, you felt oddly embarrassed that you had fallen asleep during the event the men had created for you, but also grateful they had let you rest. You leaned forward, and you saw Kung Lao and Raiden who had also fallen asleep.

Oddly enough, Johnny was nowhere to be seen. 

Carefully moving so you did not disturb the sleeping men, you stood up, trying to catch your bearings. You looked up, noting the clock you had seen earlier. 

It was an hour before sunrise.

You stretched, letting out another yawn before you looked around once more. The popcorn bowls were gone, and the room seemed generally clean. You walked towards the door of the room, before it swung open to reveal Johnny Cage.

In his arms were blankets and some pillows. You blinked in surprise, and so did he before he let out a small chuckle.

“Finally woke up?” He asked, a slight teasing tone in his voice. “You know, you fell asleep during the best one.”

“Ah, I’m sorry.” You apologized, crossing your arms as you tried to cover up your embarrassment. It was odd, this type of thing never happened. It was weird to have slept so easily, and on accident. “I usually don’t fall asleep that easily, it’s odd.” 

“Nah, I’m just kidding. You actually stayed up to watch all of the movies we had planned, then you knocked out.” The actor informed you as he walked over to set down the blankets on the couch. “We just decided to make a bet of who could stay up the longest, and I won.” The man bragged smugly, “I was just getting some blankets and pillows for you, actually.” He explained, gesturing to the items he brought. “But judging how you’re awake now, you don’t need them.”

“I thank you for the pillows and blankets, but you’re right, I don’t need them now.” You said, chuckling. “I’ll be going back to the Fire Temple.” You informed him. You gestured to the others. “What about them?”

“Eh, I’ll just wake them up and send them back to their rooms.” Johnny said, shrugging. “So, what’d you think of movies? Still amazing, right?” He asked, confidence dripping from his tone. And while you were tempted to lie to knock down his ego, you knew better than that.

“They were all lovely.” You admitted, and paused for a few moments, staring at the projection as the credits scrolled by. “Thank you, Johnny. I really needed this.” You told him, a tone of sincerity in your voice. You were really grateful. “It was fun.”

“Anytime, wildstyle.” The actor brushed off your thanks with a wide grin. You raised an eyebrow at the new nickname, thinking it was probably linked to your shapeshifting powers. He had such an interesting imagination. “Just remember this when I talk to you next time about acting, yeah?” 

“I will.” You promised. You looked back at the sleeping men for another moment, taking note to thank them for also helping to make this wonderful night happen next time you saw them. “Goodnight, Johnny.” You said as you exited the room, and you heard with simple satisfaction as Johnny bid you goodnight too. 

Obnoxious as the actor could be sometimes, he had an honest heart.  You understood a bit more why Johnny was chosen to be a champion. You’d have to repay his kindness.

The air was crisp and cool, and as you made your way to the Fire Temple, you could not help but think back to the movies you had seen. What entertaining bits of work! You chuckled to yourself as you mentally commended Johnny on his acting too.

You’d never let him know that you actually thought he was an excellent actor, though.

As you crossed the bridge to the Fire Temple, you blinked in surprise as you saw Liu Kang idly waiting by, seeming to have expected you. You walked towards him, a bit uncertain whether he needed you urgently or not.

“How was your movie night?” The fire god asked, after greeting you with your name. You smiled. Ah, he was just curious about how it went. You went on to ramble about the movies you had seen, talking for a while about them and your newfound fascination with them. Liu Kang listened diligently, a warm smile on his face as he nodded and acknowledged your words. “I’m glad to hear it went well.”

Liu Kang was a good listener.

“Yeah, I think I really needed it.” You admitted, looking up to the sky which was losing its dark color, the beginnings of the sunrise appearing. You two stayed there in silence, basking in the comfortable atmosphere. “Thank you, by the way. I heard from Johnny that you helped get everything for him.” 

“It’s no issue.” The protector of Earthrealm told you warmly, looking at you with fondness. “I would do anything for you.”

The way Liu Kang said those words, there felt like there was a hint of something else within his words that made you feel warm, much like the fire he wielded.

“Thank you.” You said, not knowing how to follow up his heartfelt words. You looked up to the sky for a few more moments, before sighing. You felt oddly tired. “I’m going to go and sleep in today, I think.” You told the god, who simply nodded in return. He seemed to approve of your decision, if the smile on his face indicated anything. “Goodnight, Liu Kang.”

“Goodnight. Sleep well.”

part seven

[dcpbybia2024]

DCP Day 3-4

March 20

On Wednesday's agenda, I was only scheduled for the lifeguard swim test, so I woke up extra early to catch the specially designated bus headed to Mickey's Retreat (I'm pretty sure it's a cast member rec area), as it is not a stop on any of the normal flamingo buses. I met some folks on the bus, and one guy mentioned that he tried to visit the cast connections store and was not able to since we did not have our blue IDs yet. Noted. We arrived just before 0800.

The testing was just as I suspected and aligned with the standard testing I have done before. What's interesting to me is that this test was for Disney, and they said we would have to test again for the third-party(?) trainers that will be signing off on our guard certifications; which is fine, but I just thought it was a little odd.

I was totally pooped after having woken up so early, but managed to go check out the gym when we got back to flamingo. I ran into a fellow guard CP on my way out; then promptly fell asleep the rest of the day (L).

March 21

My first true "off" day since arrival on Monday, no onboarding appointments at all! Exhilarating.

I made myself a park reservation for Magic Kingdom, and planned to spend the whole day there. I picked out a cute outfit, slathered on a healthy amount of SPF 50, and headed out to catch the bus, where I ran into my very same fellow guard once again! She introduced me to her friends she had met, and we decided to rendezvous in MK to watch Happily Ever After together, as a few of them had never seen it. They were spending the day in Epcot, so once we reached the TTC we parted ways.

I took the monorail into MK for the first time in over 5 years and found myself super emotional. Maybe it's because I'm by myself for the first time in a place I've always been with my family, maybe it's plain nostalgia, maybe it's the strategically formulated tear-jerking videos the program have us watching at every opportunity, or maybe I'm just as crazy a disney adult, but consider my heart strings tugged.

Having the access, opportunity, and privilege to be in the parks as often as I will be able to be this summer, I felt encouraged to take my time and really relax as I strolled in. This summer I won't be rushing around or meticulously planning out my day, and for that I'm grateful.

I watched the Dapper Dans of main street, then saw the castle for the first time since they painted her pink :) I enjoyed some pleasantly short wait times, with the exception of Space Mountain, whose wait jumped while I was in line. I noticed some changes here and there, like the new(-ish?) ghost in the candlestick hall in Haunted Mansion and the progress on Splash Mountain's transformation into Tiana's ride. I met Rapunzel, Merida, Aladdin, and Jasmine; and decided I would need to get myself an autograph book once I get my blue ID for that sweet sweet discount!!

Later in the afternoon, I decided to hop over to Epcot via the monorail (best TTC vehicle no contest) for a Food and Garden Festival lunch/dinner graze because let's be real, we all know that Epcot's food is way better than MK lol.

I made a loop around the world showcase, but not without first taking a single-rider spin on Test Track! I enjoyed golden hour walking around the world, and stumbled on the old Perry the Platypus phone drop in Japan, which brought back so many great memories, and also got me wondering if there was a game up now! (there is, I think it's duck tales theme).

As the sun set, I made my way back to MK and met my new friends at an amazing spot they snagged in the hub, right near the Walt and Mickey statue. We befriended a baby and enjoyed the show together, then had to conga-line our way through the crowd to Tomorrowland. I was able to enter the virtual queue for Tron, and my friends were going to ride Space Mountain.

Tron was AMAZING! It was still under construction the last time I was here, and it looked so futuristic and crazy walking up to it. While waiting in line, I noticed a girl in a really cute sweater set, and when I went to compliment her on it, I realized it was a girl from my community theater back home! We had a great laugh in the Tron queue with her dad and it just made my night. I've been smiling about it ever since.

I rendezvoused with my group to ride Big Thunder and then on our way out of the park, we stopped in the Confectionary to grab a sweet treat nightcap. One friend loves Mickey apples but not the marshmallow ears, and we had fun pulling it apart while waiting on our bus back to flamingo.

That's the end of these last 2 days, but tomorrow we have Traditions, and I'm interested in seeing if it lives up to the "hype"

[winterpower98]

(Double Training AU) So I thought about your comment about the twins being disappointed at Red & co if they overheard the mayor.

Honestly I'm walking a fine line of somehow explaining the actions of Iron Fan and DBK, the excuse of asian parenting can only go so far and as far as I know my parents haven't unleashed a demon before so I have no reference. I think I mainly just want them to be pretty scarce with affection but still 100% proud of their son (you simply can't convince me the guy who can recite the exact hour of his son's birth isn't at least a little proud of the tyke) Iron Fan switches between matriarch of a dying kingdom and tired mom sitting in the corner of her son's workshop watching him work. DBK is trying his best but being absent for 500 years kinda makes it awkward to readjust to interacting with people. Iron Fan after DBK got sealed away, makes Red Son hug her before he leaves for things (modeling this after my mom, she said you never know which one could be our last it's a bit depressing but I think it applies well here, Iron Fan can't lose her other boy now that DBK is gone) DBK on the other hand only hugs Red when he's crying, partially so he doesn't need to keep looking at his crying face and partially because that's the only time he feels like it's appropriate to give affection.

(Side tangent: being in an asian household is weird, knowing people talk to their parents is weird, me relating to canon Red Son but also seeing multiple fics writing PIF and DBK as abusive gives me mixed feelings :/ I don't even know how to put it in words)

There's also the point of in canon Macaque was supposed to release LBD but since he never died, I don't think he's actually met her before? So maybe after using it to seal away the demon, it was kept hidden but over the years just started drifting from place to place and only recently ending up with the Mayor?

So as the Mayor and LBD's eyes in the mortal realm, he would probably have kept an eye on the recent demon attacks in the city. Letting him decide to "give" the key to Red Son instead of MK. His phone call staged and a ploy to peak the demon's interest since he can't just award the demon with the key like he did with MK in canon.

I was also thinking, maybe despite being imprisoned LBD can still interact with the living world, haven't figured out exactly how maybe magic shards that the mayor places where she directs him to? Anyways mainly I just want her to haunt DBK a bit, maybe during his imprisonment. That would help explain his megalomaniac tendencies also how he can find the tomb and why he even thinks it'll grant him power.

I think after he gets LBD out of his system he would start actually connecting with his family, to the relief of PIF and the absolute joy of Red.

I really need to write some actual fics to start tying things together haha

Thanks for letting me ramble again!

-💙

These are all interesting takes on the Bull Family

And maybe Mayor and LBD can still communicate telepathically even if she's locked away? She could direct him around and tell him what to do, but she wouldn't have a physical impact on the world

But I understand why it would make you feel weird or uncomfortable the way other people write them. We identify a lot we the characters from the shows we like, and in this case specifically, this family was in part written to reflect Asian parenting. So, it makes sense for you to have mixed feelings about the way they are written in fiction and you are valid for it

[skellebonez]

SO, remember that thing you wrote a while back, about Monkey King and Mk time traveling back to the JTTW time period?

Link to said thing: https://skellebonez.tumblr.com/post/647766968590581760/18-for-present-wukong-and-mk-to-accidentally-time

THIS? RIGHT WELL, I HAVE HAD IT OPEN IN MY TABS FOR A REALLY LONG TIME AND WOULD LIKE TO GIVE YOU AN OPENING TO CONTINUE WITH IT IF YOU'D LIKE: PROMPTS 34 and 41

So. Time travel is funky. This is set post-Special, immediately pre-season 2. But has spoilers for events up to S2E7. For reasons. Side bar: sometimes time travel comes with some fun side effects. Fun for the viewer. Less fun for the people experiencing them.

Truth be told, I forgot they were even here./Can you teach me how to do that?

"Won't this cause some kind of... I-I dunno, time paradox?" MK asked in a harsh whisper as they followed the traveling group at the back of the line. "Or is this gonna be some kind of 'you changed one thing and now two timelines exist' kind of deal?"

"I genuinely have no idea," Wukong said with a sigh, digging at the uncomfortable but familiar feeling in his ear and trying to keep his voice down as much as possible. He was honestly surprised that it had taken MK this long to ask this particular question, but then again... they had other things to worry about. "I don't remember this, but that may not even matter. I've around for centuries, Bud, but even I have no idea how thing works for us."

"That is not a comforting sentence."

It had been a little over two days since the mentor and student had found themselves thrown backwards in time a few centuries away from home. And Sun Wukong could tell that MK was starting to get more and more frustrated as time had gone on. To be fair, they had made little progress. And there was... another reason... multiple other reasons. But most importantly, there wasn't exactly a power source they could plug the machine into that would give them enough juice to send them home, at least not unless they chance by a demon with lightning powers that Wukong didn't remember. No, instead they had to wait until they hit a storm.

One that was more than another two days walk away.

The young man did his best to not let it show, however. Most likely because of who they were traveling with.

His younger self lead the group, pointedly not looking back at them and keeping a watchful eye for demons that the elder Wukong knew would not come. He dared not bring this knowledge up, though, not knowing if MK had a point about that paradox. He didn't seem to trust the completely, but there was someone else he trusted.

Behind him was his former Master. The monk Tripitaka, Tang Sanzang himself, on the back of the horse formed dragon Bai Long Ma. Bai Long Ma had said nothing, as they were wont to do, and seemed to mostly ignore the two of them unless they were loud. Mast- Sanzang. He had insisted that the elder Wukong and MK call him Sanzang. Probably to help differentiate who was speaking to him if he could not see the two immortal monkeys, and also because MK kept trying to figure out which title to use for the monk and he took pity on him. Sanzang, after a hour's long explanation and from proof via MK's phone and knowledge of past adventures none should know of (and one very interesting game of staff trading between the two monkeys for a moment where the younger Wukong realized it was indeed the same staff).

Sanzang had not mentioned his crying when they met. Neither had his younger self. Or MK.

Zhu Bajie and Sha Wujing took up the rear. Wujing had not said much to the two of them, but he was nice enough. Suspicious of them, but nice. He put more faith in Sanzang and younger Wukong (perhaps he should call him something else in his head) than his companion.

Bajie didn't trust them as far as he could throw them, that was clear from the way he kept glancing back at the duo with daggers in his eyes. He was immediately unhappy with their new travel companions and... Wukong realized with a sad jolt that he actually missed that. At the time he only found Bajie's contrary nature to his own to be frustrating but now... now he hadn't heard that in 500 years and he could see that while it may have been misguided at times (many times) it was born of a sense of self preservation and a want to protest Sanzang.

Even if he contradicted himself at times as well.

"You two doing ok back there, older me and Kid?" Younger Wukong called back suddenly.

"Yup, just. Hanging." MK yelled back, tone as terse and done as it had been for the last day. "Not like I can do anything else." The second bit was muttered under his breathe, most likely in the hopes even his mentor couldn't hear him. He was wrong.

Wukong felt... bad. Because he was the primary source of this rotten mood.

The staff digging into his ear for the first time in centuries was a reminder of that. An agreement between himself and his student to not bring up any undue suspicion and questions that would take time they may not have to get back home. They'd agreed that the group would also call him Kid, since MK wasn't as fond of the others calling him Bud for some reason, and the name was just... a smidgen to close to Monkey King to not raise similar questions. It was also a reminder that Wukong had let slip in a follow up conversation, away from prying ears, about why this may or may not be really necessary that he had planned to leave the next day in present time.

MK hadn't been happy since. Not with him at least.

"Bajie, remember to ask them how they are doing from time to time. Please?" Sanzang insisted in front of them.

"Truth be told, I forgot they were even here," Bajie lied.

~

Bajie glowered down at Wukong, throwing the fruit and wrapped rice packages in his general direction and not caring whether he caught it or not. There was a soft and disappointed cry of his name from Sanzang from the other side of the camp.

"Master and the stupid Monkey may trust you," he snorted, ignoring the call and looking between Wukong and MK. "But I don't. If you even so much as set one little toe out of like I will re-"

"Rend our souls asunder with your mighty 9 Toothed Rake, yeah," MK sighed as he used some of the water from his cup to wash the berries thrown at him. "You're Zhu Ganglie, Zhu Bajie, Tiānpéng Yuánshuài, commander-in-chief of 80,000 Heavenly Navy Soldiers. You will kick our asses. We know."

For a whole second Zhu Bajie looked genuinely surprised and... kind of impressed.

Then he scoffed again and made his way back to the group of five and watched them from the edges of his vision with less suspicion and more curiosity than before.

"Mei was right when she said he was kind of like Pigsy," MK noted, popping a berry into his mouth.

"When was that?" Wukong asked, doing much the same.

His student froze, looking down at his hands for a moment as if trying to remember something. "... not important. Let's just eat and get some rest, like Sanzang told us to."

It didn't take a Great Sage to realize something was wrong.

Wukong said nothing.

~

"Kid, we told you to stay back with Master!" Wujing shouted as MK peaked his head around the rock he and the monk were taking shelter behind.

"I know!" MK snapped, growling as he ducked back down and presumably curled in on himself. "ARGH I feel useless!"

Wukong winced at his tone, feeling bad. MK wasn't useless, to be fair, but without his staff and no backup weapons he was fighting up a creek without a paddle as it were.

"You're not useless, and you're protecting Tripitaka!" He shouted, letting out a yelp as he narrowly avoided a hit from a demon that should not even be here. Or, some kind of time anomaly mockery of a large demon. An enormous smoke or shadow creature that was far too familiar for his own liking. Not the same, something possibly cobbled together from time itself.

"Wow, uh, future me you're not doing so hot!" Younger Wukong said with a raise of his eyebrow as he blocked a strike with much more ease. "Aren't I supposed to get better with age? Like a handsome fine wine?"

"I'm a bit RUSTY ok!?" He snapped, slicing off one of the shadow creature's cloth tassels to watch it flicker away. "Haven't been many demons to fight!"

He heard a scoff from behind the rock before he felt the giant fist punch him into it. And through it. A Wukong sized hole between student and old master. He realized too late that he had lost his grip on his staff as it flew into the air above them.

"Alright, that's enough!"MK shouted, and before Wukong could even move to stop him the Monkie Kid had jumped into the rock and reached up.

"KID DO YOU HAVE A DEATH WISH!?" Bajie shouted in horror as he made to rush back and tackle him out of the way. He hadn't moved fast enough either.

None of them had, before MK caught the staff as if it was as light as a feather and twirled it around himself before extending it and launching himself at the shadow creature with a scream of rage and frustration and landing what would have been the killing blow had it not clearly been something not living in the first place.

It dissipated much as the piece cut off before it did, leaving MK to... give a confused yelp and fall into a heap on the ground. The staff fell to his side as he clutched his head and yelled in pain from a source Wukong could not see.

"Kid!" Wukong screamed, moving faster than he had during the entire fight to his student's side. "Kid, shit, MK! What happened?"

"MK?" Sanzang and his younger self asked softly in tandem as Wujing and Bajie watched on, all moving closer. But not too close, giving the two room to move.

MK didn't answer. He sat up, holding his head in his hands as he breathed deeply and tried to keep from screaming again before everything just... stopped.

His sat on his knees, hand hanging limply at his sides as his true sight shone in his eyes and he looked on forward blankly.

"What's... who is he?" Younger Wukong asked slowly as he turned to his older self. "What is he?"

"The Hero and the Warrior were like the Sun and the Moon..." MK muttered softly all of a sudden, just loud enough for the group surrounding him. His voice was slurred, almost like he was in a trance. "Their light a protective glow shining upon the world..."

"MK, where did you-" Wukong tried to ask instead of answering his younger self as he slowly stepped forward, cautiously, but MK continued on as if he had not heard him at all.

"Together there was nothing that could stop the two of them. Either in the Celestial Realms... or on Earth. As time went on, the Hero attained power beyond comprehension. As the Hero's light grew so too did his shadow and soon the Warrior was cast in that shadow. In the darkness, the Warrior was forgotten by the Hero..."

MK immediately slumped forward as he fell unconscious.

"MK!"

~

"His name is MK... and he's the Monkie Kid... My successor," Wukong finished as he laid a fresh cold wet cloth over his student's forehead. After he had collapsed it became obvious something was seriously wrong with MK, high fever burning him up quickly. They were only just close enough to a town for him to grab him and the staff and rush off with barely a shouted back explanation of "find us at the inn" to the rest of their group. "We thought that... keeping that a secret might prevent any kind of... weird time travel... stuff."

Wukong sighed. His explanation was weak even to his own ears. Excuses. Ways to make things easier for him.

He felt worse than he had just the day before.

His student laid unconscious still, fever burning even after the medicine from the town doctor had been given to him with water carefully. The only thing Wukong could think of was the staff. MK wasn't invincible like he was, maybe contact with it had caused a reaction from the time travel that couldn't affect the immortal.

"Why would you need a successor, Wukong?" Sanzang asked after they sat in silence for a moment.

Bajie handed Wukong the mortar and pestle he had been working with to prepare more medicine, something to add to tea when MK woke up. The pig demon had not questioned him once since they arrived, only grabbed what Wukong was trying to mix poorly himself and listened.

Bai Long Ma had changed into a human form, one he had rarely seen, and sat beside Wujing. They both also listened.

His younger self looked at MK in a mix of wonder and confusion and horror and Wukong could not blame him. The idea of a successor... he must have known himself what that meant even if no one else did.

"I hope I don't have to tell you," he said softly. He didn't look away from MK, even as Sanzang laid a comforting hand on his back. "And I don't want to risk what telling you might do..."

No one questioned him after that.

When Bajie prepared the next bowl of medicine for MK, Wukong took a chance he never had with the demon he once considered like his brother.

"Can you teach me how to do that? Properly?"

Bajie did.

~

"Monkey King?" Came the hoarse rasp of MK's voice ringing through the room, and Wukong shot up from where he was watching the stars in an instant.

"I'm here, MK," He said softly, still soft, not wanting to hurt his student in case hie head ached. "How do you feel?"

"Dead, but only from the neck up," MK groaned out, and Wukong let out a relieved sigh. He wasn't sick enough to not joke around at least. "Where are we?"

"The town we need to be in," Wukong answered, quickly working on adding the medicine into some now (sadly) cold tea. He had hoped MK would wake much sooner. "Storm is tonight... you've been asleep for a whole day. Hopefully getting you home with this medicine in you will make you feel better, you uh... you weren't doing so great before-"

"What happened to Macaque?" MK asked suddenly, looking for all the world like he had no idea why he would even ask that question to begin with. "Not the battle your younger you had. Before that. In the story. Sun and Moon. Please, I... I want to know. Just... just tell me something, for once."

Wukong froze, fur bristling and stiff and this was not the conversation he wanted to have with his student right now. This is not the conversation he should be able to physically have with his student right now because MK should have no way of knowing anything like this at all. But he had. He'd recited the story he'd heard before word for word from... Macaque.

This was not the time for easy outs. Not anymore.

"I've made a lot of mistake, MK," He started, lifting his student's head onto his lap to help him sit up for the drink. "And a lot of them are ones I didn't think you would have to know about. But Macaque... it's complicated, I know that now. I didn't back then."

MK sipped the tea but said nothing, only made a face at the taste of the medicine.

"We were friends, once. Back on Mount Huaguo before I went to the Celestial Realm, he became immortal in... other ways to my own. I was trapped for 500 years under a mountain without him, no one came to see me so... I guess he was never able to find me. Or he waited thinking I would eventually come back," Wukong tried not to think about how that meant he could have had trust in his friend and not for other reasons he had assumed for so long. "You know the story of the White Bone Spirit from our journey? How Bajie got me banished?"

Wukong couldn't help but chuckle. Oh, he'd been so mad at Bajie for so long for that. He still was, in many ways. But given what happened to him later on in the journey Wukong couldn't hold a grudge.

"Yeah you-" MK coughed a little, probably from not talking for a whole day and a sore throat. "You went back to Mount Huaguo."

"And to Macaque," Wukong continued. "For the first time in 500 years."

"I bet he was angry."

"No..." Wukong disagreed, shaking his head and thinking back. "No, he... wasn't. Not at first. He was ecstatic I came back. The Hero and Warrior of Mount Huaguo back together again, just like old times. But it wasn't like old times. I was already different, I knew how I treated others including the monkeys on my mountain hadn't been the best. And when Bajie came to bring me back... I couldn't help but wanting to leave back to the journey. Part of it was to get the fillet off, but part of it was because... I realized I cared for the others. I wanted to see the journey through with them."

"Macaque thought you were abandoning him," MK said after a moment, eyes widening. "That's why he took on your identity. He wanted... revenge? For you to have no reason to leave again?"

"I think he just wanted what we used to have," Wukong said with a frown. "I've been running from him for so long... over another 500 years. I've made so many mistakes in my life MK, but I think not trying to get him to come with us or trying to properly explain what I was doing... may have been the worst."

"... The warrior was never forgotten by the Hero after all," MK said softly before drifting back to sleep.

"No," Wukong agreed, though he knew he was not heard. "No, the Hero never forgot. The Hero never will, not completely. Even if it hurts."

~

The storm came on schedule. The machine was charged.

Over the day they came back their memories of the trip back in time faded into a distant thought, one that both mentor and student soon forgot to fear the loss of.

By the next day they had forgotten. Time had fixed itself.

But not completely.

The Hero never forgot completely, after all. There was something telling him in the back of his mind to check more on his student. He remembered a hand on his back that should not have been there. He knew how to mix something he never had before.

Neither did the Warrior, uninvolved in this adventure as he may be. He had plans.

And the one between them, with no title to himself, didn't completely forget either. He recalled feeling warm and safe. His head was on someone's lap. There were berries and someone not unlike one of his father figures.

The memories of what happened lingered, quiet, uncalled but emotions still there.

A short time later the one between felt that a play he went to was strangely familiar to him and needed to rush out before his head began to ache in memories he didn't recall.

"So um... what happened to him? The Warrior?"

The answer was somewhere in the back of his mind. If only he could remember.

[jade-it-queen]

Jade. The fate of female character in Mortal Kombat

It’s been a while since I posted anything on my blog cause I’ve been busy with my life and rapid changes in it. During this time, I’ve watched the new 2021 Mortal Kombat movie as well as the new animation Battle of the realms and also rewatched the Story Mode of MK11 a few times. As you probably can tell, I have a lot to say.

JADE. MILEENA. KITANA. SONYA.

Skip this if you don’t want to read my very important (and long as sh*t) rant about female characters in MK.

DISCLAIMER. This thing is going to sound extremely feminist and women-supremacist or whatever. By saying things that I’m going to say, I by no means think that male characters should be weak or lacking. If anything, it would be nice to have some godforsaken EQUALITY. I’ll explain further later.

Part One: Mortal Kombat (2021)

There’s no Jade in this movie. 

The end. That should be the sole reason I dislike it.

However, it might be better this way since the Nitara and Mileena portrayals in this movie are... questionable to say the least. Okay, y’all been robbed. If MY JADE would be brought into this movie to BE THERE for like 4 minutes of screen time only to get absolutely brutal FATALITY I. would. be. pissed.

More than I already am and that means something.

Sure, there’s a possibility that she’s going to be present in some of the upcoming movies because this one is definitely not the only one they’re going to make. But do I want that? Yes. And no.

Mortal Kombat movies (and Mortal Kombat in general) have a problem with women portrayal in general. The target audience for them are MEN, potentially heterosexual men, who want nothing more than bloody gorey fighting scenes with occasional sex scene here and there. To achieve that, they need a female lead, an attractive, kinda kick-assish but not too much, to not overshadow the absolutely badass men characters. Girls tend to be “independent” (because God forbid they’d want to express interest in the male leads before the time is right), sarcastic, laid back and sometimes even bitchy. Because, you see, they are fighters. And they are Sonya Blade. They need NO MAN. They just need plot armor, bigger than America itself. And if they’re not Sonya Blade, they are... non existent. They are there, but they are never really there. Here, let me walk on screen for a couple seconds. Let me sit beside Very Important Male Character (aka Shang Tsung) for a couple of seconds, looking absolutely gorgeous. Let me have a fight scene in which I make choices so f*cking stupid there’s no potential explanation to it. I exist in this movie to make people that love me (this character) to come into theatres in hopes to see some good action and interesting plot.

Now, I wasn’t born yesterday, I know how the world works. It’S bEeN LiKe ThAt FoReVeR, gEt OvEr here iT. Yeah, it’s been like that forever and the result is a mediocre movie that pleases neither the casual viewer, nor the actual Mortal Kombat fan. I don’t know, there might be guys who just saw Kung Lao’s fatality on Nitara, thought to themselves “Neat” and went on with their lives. But I exited the cinema with a sour taste in my mouth, feeling like I’ve watched one of the “fighting genre” films based on video games that had nothing worth remembering. Well, besides Kano. He was my favourite part of this movie and I�� normally can’t stand the guy :’D

Would it really help if they changed the way the women were portrayed? I mean - is that the ACTUAL problem of the movie? No, women being the eye candy and barely something else (if they’re not Sonya Blade) are not the only problem it suffers from. It’s that MK has been going the same route, retelling the same goddamn story for the millionth time. It’s always THE SAME. The only thing changing is who’s gonna get brutally killed. But - of course - out of the “disposable” character pool. It’s never Sonya (because you need our female lead or else there would be no female characters in the story), who ya know could be killed by Mileena but magically WASN’T. Because Mileena FOR SOME REASON was like: Ya know what? Naaah. Even though Sonya’s from Earthrealm and is actively trying to stop you. If anything, kill her because she annoys you. BUT NAH. It’s never Liu Kang because he’s the Chosen One. But killing Kung Lao is fine, he can die so Liu can awaken or smth. It’s not the main character because how else can you portray THE MAGIC OF LOVE AND FRIENDSHIP? Ya, that’s what I thought, don’t even think about it.

You have an amazing universe, filled to the brim with SO. MUCH. POTENTIAL. Let go of the same boring plot line and show us Kombat from another perspective. Change something. F*ck, go all feminist route and make a story center around Mileena dominating the world. Try with different versions of the same story, making it center around different character each time. 

SURE, YOU’LL PROBABLY LOSE SOME VIEWERS BUT TIMES ARE CHANGING, AND MOST OF US ARE TIRED TO PAY FOR THE SAME STORY OVER AND OVER AGAIN.

Part Two: Mortal Kombat Legends: Battle of the Realms

Jesus f*cking Christ.

To say this film was rushed is an understatement. While I was watching it, I was like: TF? Everything happens all at once, we have Kuai Liang-Scorpion story line, we have Outworld’s attack, the tournament, not to mention the final fight that should be whole another movie. I felt like no story line was properly laid out, some of the characters died before I got to even know them and the battles were... disappointing. I believe they needed to push this movie out so they squished in everything they had and just went with it. 

But, again, this movie just repeats the same things as its live action version. Let me lay it down for you:

Kung Lao dies (because yes)

Sonya Blade lives (because yes)

Jade is just there (more of it later)

disposable characters are disposed of

Liu Kang is badass and always wins

You watch it and feel like you’ve already seen it before. Sure, gore is fine, human Raiden is precious and need to be protected at all costs and adrenaline is pumping (I guess).

BUT NOW.

You know what’s coming.

JADE.

JADE.

My f*cking piece of sunshine, the gorgeous goddess of beauty and kombat, the woman who owns my heart.

She’s there for like not even a minute.

Words can’t describe how f*cking PISSED I am by this portrayal. These motherfrickers put her in EVERY SINGLE POSSIBLE SNIPPET OF THIS MOVIE. HER BATTLE WAS IN THE TRAILER, ONE OF THE SNEAK PEEKS WAS A SCENE OF HER AND KITANA.

TURNS OUT EVERYTHING I SAW BEFORE THE MOVIE WAS RELEASED... WAS EVERYTHING I WAS ABOUT TO SEE OF HER!!!!

THEY MADE ME HYPED UP FOR NOTHING!!!!!!

I know I’m not the only one riding this trolley. Li Mei was there just to be killed. Kung Lao had a f*cking single dialogue line and then BAM, fatality, buh-bye. But I was watching everything of this movie, being so enormously happy that I will finally see Jade in the movies, FINALLY! Only for her to be present in a single scene, get her ass kicked by Liu Kang (what’s new) and then she’s never seen again, even when the whole f*cking world is breaking apart.

Again. She’s just there. Ladies and gentlemen, one of the best Shao Kahn’s assassins, gets her ass kicked in fourty seconds. They NEVER let her speak ffs. She just spews some general villanous sh*t and proceeds to step on Johnny. Then, she just goes Observer mode as Kitana “betrays” Shao Kahn, gets tied to the column and then the world is ending. 

WHERE THE F*CK IS SHE?!

If you hype me up for her every chance you get, at least GIVE ME what you’re advertising. This is a scam. This is criminal offense. And homophobic. She is more than a revealing outfit and Liu Kang’s punching bag. I’m SO. F*CKING. TIRED. OF THIS. SH*T.

Kitana. The rebellious princess of Outworld... turned damsel in distress in this movie. Her role is so effing bad it hurts me to my core. You see her as a general being so badass and independent... oh right, we need Liu Kang to save her because he needs to maintain his hero look. And we need two kissing scenes. How do we get there? Oh, right, let him save her, because you know - that’s what makes wahmen kiss you. 

ARE YOU NUTS?!

The movie started just fine, with Kitana being in charge with her right hand, Jade. Then, obviously, they water her down and soon she is a princess in a tower (in this case, princess on a column) that needs her buffy sexy man to save her. Oh, and she can’t resist him - you know, every normal girl’s reaction to getting untied is to kiss a guy you’ve known for like a few hours but seen before and you’ve talked like three dialogue lines in total. Sure.

Kitana just gets the unfortunate role of a female main character. She’s Liu’s love interest and that makes her take the role of a strong (but surface level, only) woman who still needs her hero to free her. Classic damsel in distress story, with Kitana being the princess, Liu being the Prince charming and Shao Kahn as the dragon (lul). Of course, they try to cover this up by making Kitana a general, letting her win a few fights but it won’t matter in the end. Some say that women want to believe in fairy tales but the more I see fighting games’ lore, the more I say it’s the men who want to believe them. 

Is it necessarily bad? No. But it’s boring as fuk.

I would like to ask the directors to stop being so afraid of upsetting the target audience. Target audience can change and sometimes it comes out better than originally planned. My Little Pony was designed as a child’s cartoon but it was the creepy men who made it reach the top. Morally? Questionable at best. But business is booming, right? And that’s what they care for, right?

All I’m trying to say is these days women and gays are the future.

Thank you for today, more to come. I’m going to rant about the Story Mode.

[kitkat1003]

Where the Sea Meets Earth

Ao3 Link

Summary: 

Tang's life has fallen into a steady, comfortable routine, one he feels no need to change.  

So he doesn’t.

Until he has to.

Note: Hi!  Lowkey used an idea from @ninja-knox-ur-sox-off  when it came to Pigsy's rival.  They make great content, give them a look!  As always, shout out to my beta reader, @imnotcameraready, the most kind and patient editor out there.  She edited this all in one night, the mad lad.  Send love her way!!  She goes by UncrownedKing on Ao3, check out her stuff!  Anyway, have fun!

Tang’s routine is simple.  Get up, watch Pigsy make breakfast.  Steal an egg or two that Pigsy definitely didn’t make in preparation for such thievery.  Follow Pigsy around as the noodle shop is set up for the morning.  Listen to the hiss of oil in a hot wok, water bubbling in a tall pot, knife against the wooden cutting board, each slice precise with practice.  

Admire the way Pigsy’s arms bulge with muscle as he lifts heavy boxes of spices, meat and vegetables.  Watch the sweat on his brow build up as he tosses the ingredients in the wok, stirs the broth, sticks a pinkie in before pulling it out to taste the concoction, tilting his head to the side in thought every time before reaching for a different spice—

Chuckle when MK scrambles down the stairs, a second before being late.  Wave back when MK greets him enthusiastically.  Listen to Pigsy bark orders.  Watch MK vanish out the store door, listen to the sound of the delivery cart starting up.  Wait for the customers to come in.

Sometimes, between the breakfast and lunch rush, he will vanish into the town.  He’ll peruse the shelves of a bookstore, maybe get a book or two.  Then, he’ll come back to the restaurant and watch Pigsy work until closing, with the occasional interruption from MK or Mei.  Pigsy will make dinner, and they’ll eat while watching TV before ending the night, asleep next to each other.

It’s a steady routine, one Tang feels no need to change.  

So he doesn’t.

Routines are brought on by repeated motions and consistent action.  He finds himself considering them more and more, these days. Tang follows the lines back, through time, to trace where each routine began, as Pigsy yells at MK to get going.

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He lives off a trust fund from his late parents, as well as a few checks from his work in historic preservation.  His family has passed down the stories of old for years, and he knows them well and by heart, because at 18 his memories had come flooding in, and suddenly he was older than time itself and yet just old enough to have sake enough that creating books and speaking on historical inaccuracies is easy to turn into a living.  

A few years ago, he gave it up because it hadn’t seemed important to bother anymore after his parents died.  The next year he’d wasted time coasting through town after town, sharing random tales for a meal, trying to forget that he was alone, until….

Two years ago, he watched Pigsy throw a customer out of his shop, threatening the unruly guest within an inch of his life, and thought Well then.  Something interesting.

Tang had actually gone to the rival noodle shop first. It seemed a bit more inviting.  Pigsy, for all his culinary achievements, is still very closed off, and his shop certainly reflects that.  Sometimes, Tang wonders if Pigsy would get more customers if he’d change his attitude, but he never brings it up, because what would Pigsy’s Noodles be without Pigsy?

He watches from afar a few days, until the Pigsy’s rival shop owner not so subtly nudges him over, and the moment he walks in, he’s knocked to the ground by a very exuberant noodle delivery boy.

“Oh my gosh!  I’m so sorry—are you alright?” Tang sits himself upright to the sound of frantic apologies, seeing a kid no older than 18 fretting over him as if he’d been stabbed instead of simply knocked over.  

“It’s fine,” he starts, a little annoyed but not rude enough to make the boy more panicked than he already looks to be.

“MK, what did you do?!” Comes the familiar gruff voice from the kitchen, and the boy—MK, Tang has gathered—helps him stand as the chef walks out of the kitchen, hands on his hips.

“I didn’t notice him coming in—I just knocked into him—it was an accident!” Tang worries, then, because MK seems scared, but those worries are swept away when the chef takes a deep breath and slowly, his stance relaxes.

“It’s fine, kid, just get those deliveries out, ‘kay?” his voice is so gentle, Tang remembers now he was taken aback. Now it feels so natural for Pigsy’s voice to be gentle.  “I’ll take care of this.”

MK nods to that, jittery and anxious, and walks out with a forced slowness that Tang can tell is from worry and guilt.  Once he’s left, Tang turns back to Pigsy, who lets out a breath and mutters something about how ‘this kid is gonna be the death of me’ before looking up at Tang with what Tang later learned is his customer service expression.

“Alright, c’mon in.  Welcome to Pigsy’s Noodles, home of the longest noodles.” 

At that, Tang has to snort.  He saunters over to the barstools and sits as Pigsy goes back behind the counter, into the kitchen.

“I don’t know if long is the metric you want to brag about,” he snarks, settling easily.

Pigsy grunts in reply, already back to cooking.

Two minutes later, Tang gets a bowl of noodles placed in front of him.

“On the house,” Pigsy grouches, before Tang even thinks to reach into his coin purse.  “For the trouble.”

“That doesn’t seem like a very sound business practice,” Tang laughs, taking a sip of the broth after it cools a little.  

It was the best he had ever tasted.

“Don’t get any ideas about it.” Pigsy fidgets with his chef’s hat, face settling into a scowl, and yet Tang can tell it was all bluster with no substance.

He pulls a pair of chopsticks out of the free container, snaps them apart, and eats as customers flit in and out of the shop.

Despite the fact that he never stays in one place for too long, Tang finds himself sticking around more than just a few weeks, trailing through the streets and eventually finding himself back at the noodle shop.  The noodles are delicious, cheap, and he finds the company of the chef a comfortable one.

Things get far more interesting when the delivery boy, MK, comes down late and gets an earful for it.

“Sorry—I stayed up late drawing the autobiography of Monkey King and I missed my alarm!” MK bows in apology, frantic, and Pigsy runs a hand over his face, pointing MK to a dirty table to clean.  

MK gets to work quickly, but Tang turns to him with a curious expression.

“You like Monkey King?” he asks, and he hears Pigsy groan from the kitchen.

“Here we go,” Pigsy mutters, but he does nothing to stop MK from turning to face Tang with a wide, blinding smile on his face.

“Do I!  He’s so cool, and strong, and handsome, and interesting!  I’ve watched the animated series like, fifteen times!” he rushes up to Tang, pushing a very worn, bound together book.

Tang flips through it, more out of politeness than anything else, and finds himself pleasantly surprised by the intricacy of the sketches, the love poured into pages, notes on the stories themselves scrawled out next to the drawings.

“This is...surprisingly accurate,” He glances over at MK, who preens at the praise.

“Thanks!  I’ve been drawing these, since, like, forever!  It’s going to be Monkey King’s autobiography.  Uh, unofficially, anyway,” MK rubs the back of his neck awkwardly.  Tang pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose.

“It’s always nice to see the younger generation so interested in history,” Tang grins with pride as he adds,  “You know, I know essentially every Monkey King story.  I even wrote an academic paper on them.  Published.”

He watches MK’s excitement grow. “Really?!  Oh my gosh, that’s so cool!  Can you tell me one?  Pretty please?!” He’s bouncing on his toes, and Tang can’t help but chuckle.

“I could tell you a tale or two,” he starts, watching as the shine in MK’s eyes grow.  “But I need something in return.  A bowl of noodles, perhaps?”

MK’s smile drops, and he fidgets.

“I don’t know if I have the money…” he mumbles, mostly to himself, and then he turns to Pigsy, a question in his eyes.

“No,” Pigsy says, immediately. 

Tang has never seen someone use puppy dog eyes like a weapon before, but MK pulls them off like a pro.

MK’s hands are clasped together. “Please?”

“I got bills to pay, kid!  I can’t be giving free meals to strangers!”

“Well, I’m hardly a stranger,” Tang teases, smile widening when Pigsy reddens.  “We met yesterday, remember~?”

“Shut yer yap,” Pigsy grinds out, but Tang has seen Pigsy far angrier, from his reconnaissance days at the shop across the street, so he isn’t worried.

Pigsy turns back to MK, mouth clearly open to rebuff the kid, but MK’s puppy dog eyes have been turned up past 100%.  Tang watches as Pigsy crumbles beneath their gaze.

“Fine,” he grits it out between clenched teeth.  “But this is a one time thing!  I don’t have time for freeloaders around here.  And not now!  I got ten orders to make, that you have to take out,” he points to MK, who is nodding his head so quickly his face becomes a blur.

“Okay!  So, in like an hour, okay Mr.Tang?” he turns to Tang, who grins, calm as ever.

“I’ll be here,” he responds, voice even, and MK busies himself with cleaning up the tables before Pigsy hands him the orders.

When MK disappears, Pigsy sighs.

“You know, pretty sure it’s rude to use kids to get free food,” he says, and Tang can only chuckle again.

“I’m not sure what you mean.  I’ve used my knowledge to score many a meal before, this is no different.  You’d be surprised what people will give for an interesting story.”

Pigsy snorts, at that, and rolls his eyes.“You a good storyteller, at least?” he asks, and Tang puffs out his chest proudly.

“The best.” After all, his papers got him a pretty good amount of wealth, so he’d hope he’s good enough to earn that.

Pigsy turns back to his prep work, shaking his head, but Tang sees the barest hint of a smile, before Pigsy turns away.

Despite protests from Pigsy, Tang comes back the next day with another story and receives the same free bowl of noodles.  He doesn’t get noodles every day, not stupid enough to think that Pigsy could afford to give him one daily, but he appears at the noodle shop every day regardless, if only to watch the hustle and bustle of the place, watch Pigsy work.

Pigsy works with practiced motions, not a single measuring cup or spoon appearing in his hand.  Pinches, handfuls of colorful spices thrown in with fresh vegetables.  Tang watches him string out the noodles from fresh made dough, dropping them in the broth, stirring, always test tasting, constantly adding something else, another pinch of spice, until he’s only somewhat satisfied.

It’s a familiar feeling.  The need to constantly make better, the chase for perfection.  Is it any wonder, then, that Pigsy’s shop thrives?  Customers learn that deliveries are often better than eating in, because Pigsy’s attitude is abrasive and he’s loud in the kitchen. Regardless, he runs a big enough business and makes good money, enough to keep MK as an employee despite MK’s many missteps.

Tang learns, through snippets of conversations, that MK lives upstairs.  Pigsy gave him the job and the room.  MK doesn’t talk of his parents, or any of his family really, but he has a friend, Mei.

Mei is as loud as MK is, and she’s familiar in the same way Pigsy.  These people he meets at the noodle shop who come for company just like he does, lives slotting into each other with ease.  Talking to them is like picking up a conversation left off a thousand years ago, stumbling only for a second before falling into the familiar groove.

Tang slowly learns the group dynamic, learns that MK’s parents haven’t spoken to him since he was kicked out, that Mei stays as far away from her home as she can for as long as possible, that Pigsy has nothing to his name besides his shop and himself.

Sees the family, the foundation, centered around the little hole in the wall restaurant, and keeps himself rooted, just for a little while.

The shop is closed every third Sunday of the month.  That is the only day that it is consistently closed.  Pigsy works seven days a week, twelve hours a day, without fail, except for that third Sunday.  Tang forgets, one month, and catches Pigsy heading out in the early morning.

“What, forgot you can’t steal food today?” Pigsy greets him with a frown that softens into something like a smile.

“Maybe I don’t come for the food,” is Tang’s snappy reply, and he watches with satisfaction as Pigsy pauses, thinks, and then turns a dusty rose color.

Turns out, Pigsy’s ears blush with his cheeks.  “Anyway, going on a walk?  I might join you,” he turns.

Pigsy stares at him, as if he can’t tell if Tang is serious or not, before he sticks his hands in his pockets and starts walking.  “I’m going shopping.  Don’t get in my way,” is the response, and Tang takes it for the acceptance of the company that it is, and catches up to Pigsy with ease, stepping in time with him.

The perks of having long legs.

Tang watches as Pigsy charges his way into the market, eyes sharp for the best ingredients, the ripest vegetables—or, the vegetables soon to be ripe, to save for the later weeks.  He gets a practiced amount for every ingredient that goes into his food.

“Have to get the meat weekly, but the produce can last if I make it,” Pigsy explains, and Tang nods.

“That makes sense.  I never notice a drop in quality, regardless of the week,” he comments.

Pigsy rolls his eyes. “Pretty sure anything tastes great to a freeloader,” he grumbles.

“I’ll have you know I have a refined palette,” Tang huffs, crossing his arms over his chest.

Pigsy laughs then, raucous and loud, a sound Tang has never heard from him before.  His heart pitter-patters quickly in his chest, and he thanks everything that his scarf hides his face and that Pigsy is short enough to not be able to spot his blush.

“Okay, wise guy,” Pigsy’s voice draws him back in.  “You ever cooked yourself a meal before, then?” He elbows Tang gently, or as gentle as Pigsy is able to be, and Tang stumbles a bit before replying.

“Well…,” his voice alludes to the obvious answer, and Pigsy laughs at him all over again.

Tang decides he likes the sound.

A few months after Tang has cemented his spot at the noodle bar, Pigsy goes to usher him out of the shop one evening as he closes for the night and stops, right before heading up the stairs. He turns to Tang with an unplacable look.

“Where are you even staying?” Pigsy asks.  “Not a resident, I think I’d’ve noticed a newcomer that was moving in.”

Tang shrugs at the thought. “Wherever.” 

Typically, he’ll head out to a busy bar and ingratiate himself to someone, convince them to let him join their party, and sleep on a random couch.  He’s always gone before anyone wakes up, to be sure he misses the questions that would come from the house’s inhabitants.  If he can’t manage that, well, he’s not above sleeping on a bench somewhere.  It isn’t cold out yet, so he doesn’t worry about it.

Tang very well could get an apartment, with the amount of money he has saved.  He could, but then he’d be trapped.

He’d have to say that he’s settling down, that a place is going to become home.  And no place has really been home, not since his parents died and he walked through empty hallways and empty rooms that once meant something and now meant nothing to anyone besides himself.  He’d sold the house, stored the memories away, burned the rest and ran before the smoke cleared.

How could he stay, when there was nothing left? He’d settled in for the long hall, cemented himself as something soft like the earth, and then it had been ripped away from him like roots, tearing up the soil and leaving a mess in its wake.

So he became stone, and left without a word.

Pigsy stares at him, something almost like concern on his face.  Tang watches Pigsy’s eyes glance up towards the stairs, and then back to him.  Deliberating.  Tang tilts his head to the side, ever curious about the concern.  He knows Pigsy cares, and he knows Pigsy, beyond the gruff exterior, is pretty soft, but he’s surprised by this development.  He didn’t think that care would be extended to, in Pigsy’s words, a freeloader.

Then, Pigsy sighs.

“I’ve got a couch, if you’re interested,” he says, and Tang

Tang just follows Pigsy up to his apartment.  There’s a hallway at the top of the stairs, a door they pass by that Tang can hear pop music playing in.

“MK’s place,” Pigsy says, before Tang can ever ask the question.

They reach Pigsy’s apartment door, at the end of the hall, and head in.

It’s a cluttered space.  Well, everything save for the kitchen is cluttered.  The kitchen is pristine, so much so that the rest of the apartment pales in comparison.  It’s not dirty, there’s no trash or dishes left out, but there are just random items, magazines, cookbooks strewn about the rest of the living space.

“Sorry about the mess.” Pigsy says as he pulls off his chef’s hat and coat, hanging it up by the door. He takes off his dress shoes, and pulls out a pair of slippers from a bin, putting them to walk on the carpet.  He glances back at Tang expectantly.  Tang pulls off his scarf and hangs it up.

“It’s no problem.  I wasn’t an expected guest, I’m guessing?”

Tang takes off his shoes and pulls a pair of slippers from the bin.  He isn’t surprised by the kitchen being clean, but he is a bit confused by the clutter.  Pigsy takes care to keep his work space pristine, scrubbing it to sparking at the end of each work day.  Perhaps this is a product of that, and Pigsy just is too tired to care as much in a space that is more his than it is his profession.

Somehow, that makes Tang concerned.  He can’t pinpoint why.

Pigsy pulls off the random items from the couch, throwing them aside but scattering them further.  He grunts in response to the rhetorical question.

“I’m gonna get a pillow and blanket.  Don’t break anything.”  Pigsy trudges off, and Tang looks at the clutter, and then at the perfectly good, half empty bookshelf.

By the time Pigsy gets back, Tang is sliding the last book onto the shelf.  There’s still the other items that are less easy to categorize, but Tang would be remiss if he left perfectly good reading material to collect dust on the floor.

Pigsy opens his mouth to say something, and then abruptly closes it.  He tosses the pillow and blanket on the couch.

“Uh...bathroom’s down the hall on your left.  Night.” 

Then, he vanishes into his room.

Tang finishes cleaning, and then goes to bed himself.

It becomes part of the routine.  Pigsy never demands he come upstairs, but he never shuts the door on Tang, either, and Tang will never shoot down a free place to stay.  Pigsy gets used to him, even.  Sees Tang sitting on the couch, makes dinner, hands Tang a plate whatever it is and drops down on the couch to watch TV.

If it isn’t making fun of trash TV, Pigsy screams at cooking shows.

“You can’t just throw onion in it and expect it to work out!” he shouts.

Tang laughs.  “Very bold from the guy who only serves one type of dish.”

Pigsy turns red.  “I can make other food!” The argument is sound.

“I know,” Tang assures him, taking a bite of the steak salad Pigsy prepared.  It’s the best he’s ever tasted.  “You just choose not to, which I don’t understand.  Why only noodles?”

The question throws Pigsy off guard, and Tang waits patiently for him to collect his thoughts.  Finally, Pigsy sighs.

“They’re what I like to eat, I guess.  Besides, if I made a full scale restaurant, I’d hafta get more cooks, hire waiters, ugh,” Pigsy looks disgusted just thinking about it.  “The kitchen’s my place, I don’t trust any two bit cook to get it.  I mean, just look at the ones on TV!” 

He gestures to the television, as if Tang hasn’t been watching. Tang nods, glances at the screen anyway.  “I like how the shop is.  It’s small, but it’s good.  Bigger doesn’t mean better.” 

At that, Tang has to laugh.  “You would think that,” he responds, and at Pigsy’s confused look, he gestures to Pigsy’s stature.

“Shut up,” Pigsy says with a blush. Tang can’t stop laughing, and Pigsy cracks a smile.

Living with Pigsy, Tang finds out, means dealing with all of Pigsy.  This includes the moments where Pigsy can no longer keep a lid on his already hair-thin temper.

The clutter of the house suddenly makes sense when he comes up to the apartment to see Pigsy throwing books around the room, raging face red and pained and furious in a way Tang has never seen before.

“Bastards!” Pigsy shouts, voice hoarse.  

He’s been clearly shouting for a while.  His knuckles are bruised, and Tang spots a few dents in the wall.  

“I’ll kill em!  I-,” He freezes, upon seeing Tang standing by the door.  

Tang watches as Pigsy reigns in his rage, somehow, forcing his shoulders to drop, standing up straight, letting out a breath.  It looks painful.

“I see something’s bothering you,” Tang comments, direct and gentle as one can be when trying to talk to someone on the precipice of blind rage, as Pigsy breathes heavily.

“Leave.” Pigsy spits it out with a vitriol that is not aimed at Tang, but at something Tang isn’t a part of.  

Tang knows this, and he won’t let Pigsy drown in it.  He stands still, as the storm rages in blue eyes.

“No,” he is stone, hands clasped together.  Pigsy grits his teeth, clenches his fists.  The wave rises and crashes down.

“GET OUT!”

It’s loud enough to make Tang wince, but he doesn’t flinch.

“Not until you tell me what’s wrong.”

At that, Pigsy goes boneless, slumping down on himself.  Tang steps forward, carefully, quietly, and directs Pigsy to the untouched couch.

Untouched because it’s Tang’s bed, Tang’s space.  Because Pigsy would only destroy himself and his things, would only rage at the things he deems worthy, and Tang wonders, why does Pigsy think himself worthy of this hatred, the anger that sits in Pigsy’s heart?

Pigsy sinks into the cushions.  Tang takes his bruised hands and holds them, letting Pigsy breathe.

“MK’s folks,” Pigsy finally spits out.  “They found out the kid’s got a good job and an okay place, and now they want a cut of his earnings.”

The tone of Pigsy’s voice is nothing short of derisive, and Tang understands the fury now.  It’s funny, that he knows Pigsy enough to tell the difference between rage that’s performative and fury that’s real, but it’s not that hard for him.  

Fury like this comes from care, and there is no one Pigsy cares more about than MK.  MK, the boy with the sunshine smile who likes Monkey King and drawing and will work himself to death for anyone’s approval.

“I’d have told em to shove it, but MK’s got a soft heart, and they told him it was paying back for all the trouble they had raising him.” Pigsy laughs, and it’s very, very bitter.  “Like they raised him.  Mei probably was a better parent than they were, and she’s his age.  Bastards.”

Tang swallows the information, takes a deep breath.  He wouldn’t consider himself easily angered, but this?  This makes him furious.  He doesn’t express his fury like Pigsy does, isn’t destructive, is cold and quiet and deadly.  But he saves that for later, for when he can look up MK’s parents and figure out how to ruin them when it comes to their jobs, their social standings, their lives.

“Technically, that could be charged as harassment,” he suggests. 

Pigsy snorts at that, at least.

“Yeah, but MK’s only 17.  He’s turning 18 in a few months, but until then they could drag him back, charge me with kidnapping, ruin his whole life just because he isn’t their fucking lap dog,” The rage returns, and Tang watches as Pigsy carefully clenches his fists, as if he were too quick about it he could hurt Tang. 

It strikes Tang, then, that he has never been afraid that Pigsy would hit him.  It never crossed his mind.  Because how could it?

“I’m gonna commit a felony,” Pigsy mutters.  

Tang snickers.  “I’ll drive,” he responds.  

Pigsy looks up at him, and Tang hopes the expression on his face bleeds the sincerity he feels.

“As if I’d let you anywhere near the driver’s seat of my car,” Pigsy smirks as he says it, and he relaxes a bit more, the anger draining out of him like water through a sieve.

Tang wasn’t aware that he was tense himself, but he relaxes a bit, too.

“But you’ll get blood on the steering wheel.  And besides, it’s no fun not having a criminal record.  I ought to start it sometime, right?”

“You don’t know anything about me, if you think this’ll be the beginning of my record,” Pigsy half laughs.

Tang shrugs. “You’re right.  But, I’d like to.” 

Pigsy looks up at him, then, the red in his face smoothing to something dusty and rosy and beautiful.  Tang looks away first.  “But, first, you need some ice and bandages for your hands.”  He gets up to grab it.

When he comes back, Pigsy tells him all about the boy who would come in with exact change for the cheapest bowl of noodles, once a week every Friday.  How the boy would ramble on and on about everything, and Pigsy would listen out of politeness, and somehow that turned to a fondness he couldn’t shake.  How that boy came rushing in, half soaked in the rain, hiding out just for the moment before he was going to keep running. How Pigsy had thrown caution to the wind and moved mountains to get the kid to stay.

Tang listens, disinfecting the areas on Pigsy’s knuckles that are cut instead of just being bruised.  He wraps them, gentle, and places ice on both.  Even then, he doesn’t let go of the hands, lets them settle in his grip like they’d always belonged there.

“You’re a kind person, you know,” he says, when Pigsy is done.  And he means it, too, thinking of MK alone on the streets, thinking of MK turning out like he did but without the funds to support him, a drifter with nothing and no one.  It makes his stomach churn.

“Nah,” Pigsy shrugs his shoulders.  “Just had a lot of time to get into practice with it.”

He doesn’t elaborate.  Tang lets the conversation end, and turns on the TV.  He cleans up the room when Pigsy falls asleep.

Pigsy makes him noodles the next day, without comment.  Tang smiles and eats.

A lot of people miscategorize Pigsy as fire.  Tang would like to propose a different point of view.

When he sees Pigsy, he sees the sea.

The ocean is never calm, but it can fall into a rhythm.  Small waves, rippling waters.  Crashing against the obstacle that is land, constantly pushing, constantly trying, constantly moving.

Pigsy will rage like a storm, he will shine like water in the sun, and he will fall into a rhythm as he works.  He will push back against the rock that is indifference, and, like the ocean, he surrounds anything and everything, connecting every person he comes into contact with, as if they were the continents themselves. He ebbs and flows, forcing himself into the issues that plagues those he cares about, and yet pulls back and gives them space, never demanding anything other than their time, if they could give it.

The ocean is not harsh, nor is it merciful, but it is a force of nature all the same.  And, if you weather its storms, it will carry you wherever you need to go.

And Tang sees a man who gives MK a reason to stick around when all MK wanted to do is run, Tang sees a man who never lets Mei skip a meal regardless of her status and wealth, Tang sees a man that makes sure Tang has a warm and safe place to stay, and sees the ocean carrying battered ships to shore.

Learning about MK’s family has opened up certain topics.  Tang knows it’s only a matter of time before Pigsy asks about his life.  That doesn’t stop him from stiffening, from going stone faced, when Pigsy finally brings it up.

“I don’t hear you talk about your folks,” Pigsy mentions offhandedly.

When he turns around and sees the expression on Tang’s face, he frowns.

“No,” Tang responds. 

He says nothing else.  Pigsy doesn’t press.  Just turns back to making dinner.  And Tang stares at his reflection in the teacup.  He takes a sip.  It burns his tongue, but he doesn’t feel it.  

“They died.  Nearly two years, now,” he finally says, and it’s like dropping a weight off of his shoulders.  

Pigsy grunts in acknowledgment.  Doesn’t give him the sad stare, the ‘oh I’m so sorry’, he just glances back with something softer than pity and closer to empathy.

Somehow, it lessens the dull ache in his chest.

“They good ones?” Pigsy asks.

Tang smiles, just a little.  “Yes,” he breathes, and it hitches, thinking about how they pushed him forward, how they never demanded but always encouraged.  Tang wasn’t good at making friends, not close ones anyway.  But that never mattered, because his parents were there.

And now…

“Mine are gone too,” Pigsy says, after some time and mostly as an afterthought.  “It ain’t easy, dealing with it.”

Tang huffs a wet laugh, pushing up his glasses to wipe his eyes.“No, it isn’t,” He responds.

Pigsy slides a bowl yanduxian soup, with some some skewers of meat, and sugar coated haws for dessert.  Quite the array of a meal.  Pigsy sits across from him, and starts in on his own meal.

Tang eats.  It’s the best he’s ever tasted, as always.

Looking up at Pigsy, something in his chest warms.  He thinks about his parents and it doesn’t hurt as much as it used to.

“I think they’d have liked you, if you’d met them,” he says, softer than he feels, because he’s never said anything about love but this is as close as he can get.

Pigsy looks up, cheeks glowing, and he smiles and Tang melts, just a little. 

The apartment becomes lived in.  During one of their shopping trips, Pigsy gets Tang a different outfit, muttering something about Tang needing something to wear when his clothes are being washed.  Two outfits becomes three, becomes four, all hung up right beside Pigsy’s sleep shirts and chef coats.  Tang gets his own toothbrush.

He buys himself books and they fill up the empty space on the bookshelves.  He buys alcohol, stores it in Pigsy’s fridge and laughs off the comments about his poor taste in baijiu.  He was never one to settle in, he never thought he could again, but slowly Pigsy’s apartment becomes their apartment and the change in his mind as he thinks of it leaves him wide eyed and spiraling.

Pigsy takes it all in stride, greeting Tang in the morning with something on his face that looks...pleased?  Tang doesn’t understand it, and yet it makes his face feel warm when he thinks about it.

The winter months roll in, because while they have a weather tower to regulate weather it does not mean that they can ignore the need for seasons, and the apartment becomes colder.

“Do you not have A/C?” he curls up tight, beneath his blanket, and still shivers.

Pigsy rolls his eyes.  “Maybe if you didn’t freeload all the time, I could afford to use it!”

Later, Tang will find this all as a facade.  He knows Pigsy would never blame him for being without the funds to pay for heating.  In fact, the noodle shop does better in the winter months, because of the desire for warm, filling food to combat the chill.  He will later find out that Pigsy forgoes the A/C in his apartment to save up money to give MK a yearly Christmas bonus, both as a present and so MK can heat up his room.

In the moment, however, he just turns away with a huff.

Pigsy sighs.  “The bed’s warmer,” he says. 

Tang stares, blankly, until it finally hits him what Pigsy is suggesting.  “Why, you cad!  Trying to bed me when we’ve barely courted!” He leans back on the couch dramatically.

“Shut up!” Pigsy looks very flustered, and Tang grins, leading Pigsy to snap some more.  “You were the one complaining about being cold!”

Tang sips his tea, and shrugs.  Pigsy turns back to dinner to hide his blushing face.

That night, he moves to sleep in Pigsy’s bed.  It’s a pretty large one, it isn’t as if there isn’t room for the both of them.  The move is purely practical, after all.

Pigsy sleeps in a tank top and boxers.  Tang wonders if the tank top is for his sake.  They both get in the bed very stiff, neither wanting to acknowledge what’s happening. Tang curls up under covers, back to Pigsy.  The bedroom is indeed warmer.  Tang imagines the small heater sitting in the corner is likely the reason.

He turns his head.  Pigsy is already asleep, trails of light from the outside signs segmenting his face.  He’s snoring.  He looks calm.

Tang stares for longer than he thinks he should, before he lets his eyes slide shut.

It becomes routine.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

As whole, as Tang reminisces on the moments bringing him to his position, he’s quite glad he decided to stick around.  It’s a strange place, this city, full of danger and mystery, now that MK is the monkie kid, now that the demons are free, but at the same time little has changed, and that is something Tang can appreciate.  Every morning he settles at the noodle shop and lets life continue, predictable, comfortable.

And maybe that’s his mistake.  That he thinks he can coast forever.  The sea is many things, but predictable is not one of them.  

The downfall starts when Mei mentions that one of her aunts has been trying speed dating.

“She made the mistake of signing up for the straight couple’s night.  She told me that when she realized, she left faster than the speed date itself!” Mei taps her fingers on the noodle bar, giggling along with MK at the thought.

“Speed dating doesn’t make sense.  I mean, how can you figure out if you like someone in a minute?” MK crosses his arms over his chest and ponders.

“Well, I’m pretty sure I knew I liked you in sixty seconds,” Mei boops Mk on the nose, and he laughs, before making a face.  There’s a mixture of emotions there—disgust, confusion, fear?

“Yeah, but that’s different.  We’re friends,” he stresses that last word, looking at Mei expectantly. “Just friends.”

“Well, duh!  I was just saying,” Mei rolls her eyes.

Tang watches the tension roll out of MK like a breeze.  He wonders...but will never waste an opportunity to snark, so he sets the thoughts aside for a moment and leans back on the counter.

“I’m sure I could charm anyone in sixty seconds.  Where is this happening, exactly?” he asks.

Mei gives him a look. “I’m pretty sure speed dating isn’t for people who are already taken,” she tells him, and Tang blinks, confusion painting his features.

“What do you mean?” he asks.He jumps when Pigsy’s knife slams hard against the wood of the cutting board, harder than normal.  

Tang frowns. “Pigsy, you alright?”

“Peachy,” Pigsy growls out, from the kitchen.

Tang stares, before shrugging it off.  Pigsy’s moods aren’t entirely predictable, after all, and it isn’t as if anything terrible has happened today.  Pigsy’s cooking smells as heavenly as ever.

He turns back to Mei and MK, but they’re disappearing out the door, MK with the next batch of deliveries in hand.  Tang tilts his head to the side in confusion, before shrugging.

Oh well.

Pigsy is still stilted, when they head upstairs that night.  He’s quiet during dinner, quiet after dinner, and instead of watching TV he goes back to the kitchen to make a dessert.  Tang follows, sitting at the kitchen island, watching how Pigsy shuffles about, glancing occasionally at a recipe.  Cocoa powder, flour, eggs, different ingredients come out.  The oven is preheated.

“Something’s clearly bothering you,” Tang says, finally.

Pigsy stiffens.  Runs a hand down his face.  Sighs.  

He keeps working, throws the dessert in the oven, sets a careful timer.

Tang waits, and waits.

The kitchen is silent, save for the ambience.

“What is this, Tang?” Pigsy’s voice is hard, hands resting on the kitchen counter, shoulders hunched as he finally speaks up.  He sounds exhausted, from days and days of work.  Tang frowns.  “You steal food from my shop, you sleep in my house—you live with me, for pete’s sake, you—what is this that we have?”

And Tang, Tang doesn’t know what to say.  

“Is this even something?” 

He’s basked in the freedom to be himself, with Pigsy.  A label defines, a label makes you inseparable.  Tang comes and goes as he pleases, he doesn’t get pinned down, he’s one and alone, with Pigsy by his side.

He has called himself a ‘father figure’ to MK, but that is inherently different.  There’s a degree of separation, with that label.  He can still leave, and MK will not be too bereft.  MK has others, Tang is just one.  Pigsy wants more than that, he doesn’t want the separation, and Tang is always unsure.

“I just—” And there’s something quiet and breaking in Pigsy’s voice.  

Tang says nothing.

“Whatever you want from me, Tang, you have it.  I’ll-I’ll give you everything, just—” 

Blue eyes, like the constant tide of the ocean, meet earth in Tang’s brown ones.  

Tang is afraid he could erode.

If he stayed.  

What would he become, if he shifted his foundation?  

“Is there a point to this?” Pigsy asks.  “Or am I just something you keep around?  To say you have one?”

Tang knows that he is a man of words, of stories, knows he is Triptaka, is Tang Sanzang, and myriad others placed in the body of a single man, knows he has more knowledge in an inch of his brain than most gain in their entire lives, but he has nothing to say now.  

His thoughts halt at the wounded expression on Pigsy’s face.

More than just anger and softer than just hurt, settled between an aching heart and a broken one.

“I…,” he starts, and then his mouth clicks shut, because he is, before and now, a coward eventually.  

Whether he is captured by demons or putting his foot down against others’ bad behavior, he falters.  And he is terrified, because the swell of his heart, the affection that warms him enough to burn, is too much to bear, to articulate.

So instead, he says nothing at all.

And he knows he’s erred, because Pigsy turns his back as the timer dings.

He pulls the set of mini cakes from the oven, sets them down on the counter with forced gentleness.  Tang flinches at the harsh bang of the oven closing.  Watches Pigsy’s chest rise and fall with harsh breaths that hitch with an emotion Tang can’t place, before Pigsy swallows, steels himself, stills.  Clenches his fists as if readying himself for a fight.  Tang doesn’t know what the battle is, wonders what side he’s on.

“Forget it.” He hears, finally, and Tang feels his heart jump in his throat.

The words sound like a relent, like something giving way.  It strikes him like a spear through the chest, and he suddenly finds it hard to breathe.

The mini cakes cool in a few minutes, but it may as well be hours with how silent and still the kitchen is, and Pigsy sets one on a plate for Tang, placing it in front of him with a fork. Chocolate lava cake, something Tang had mentioned off handedly as an interesting dessert to try.  Of course Pigsy remembered.  Why wouldn’t he?

Pigsy vanishes into his room.  The door slams shut.  Tang eats.

It’s the best he’s ever tasted, like always.

He sleeps on the couch.  It’s cold.

Pigsy doesn’t open the shop, the next day.  Tang leaves early in the morning, before breakfast, to give him some space, and comes back from his leisurely morning walk to a closed sign hanging on the door.  Unlike the last time, MK waves at Tang, hopping down the stairs excitedly.  Pigsy gave him the day off, because Pigsy isn’t feeling well, apparently.

Tang sees the worried lines in MK’s expression and promises he will make sure Pigsy is okay.  MK runs off, to meet Mei at the arcade, and Tang heads up the stairs.  He passes MK’s apartment door and stands in front of Pigsy’s door.

He knocks.

“Pigsy?” He calls, loud enough that he can’t be missed.  “It’s me.  Can I come in?”

Silence.

Tang doesn’t know how to handle rejection, didn’t think it possible, from Pigsy.  In the two years they’ve known each other, he has never been rebuffed.  Has never been told, in no uncertain terms, to leave.  Pigsy has shouted it without heat, before, but it has never rang true.

He stands outside the door for twenty minutes, trying to swallow something akin to fear crawling up his chest, as he slowly realizes the door isn’t going to open.  He waits another ten minutes after that, processing the realization, the pain in his chest.

“Alright,” He says, finally, and he prays Pigsy doesn’t hear how his voice shakes.  “Get well soon.  I’ll see you in the shop.”

He should demand to be let in.  He should kick down the door, do something.  Be bold, be brave, courageous.

But he never was a fighter, so he turns on his heel, and leaves what is left of their relationship on the welcome mat.

He walks through the city, again, because he has nothing better to do now.  There is no comfort from stepping into the noodle shop and feeling like home.  There is no barstool with his name on it, no random bowl of noodles appearing at his seat inconspicuously, no begging for a story from MK, no fond looks from blue eyes in the kitchen.  

Tang had settled into routines and expectations.  The rug has been pulled from beneath his feet as he tries to grasp the idea that the comforts have crashed into dysfunction.  He tracks every minute of the two years he’s spent here, tries to trace the beginning of the end like a true crime investigator, and still, he can’t decipher why the equilibrium shattered.

Change is a product of existence, Comes a memory from his days as a monk.  You must let life flow like a river, accepting the directions it will take.

But Tang isn’t a monk anymore, and he is not flowing like a river or any such nonsense that sounds far more like what Sandy would say.  He is analytical, he is intelligent, he is knowledgeable.  Despite all of that, he is stumped by this situation, by what he is to do.

The answer, of course, is the simplest, but Tang is pretending not to be ignoring it, because acknowledging the solution means making a choice he can’t undo.  To decide if he wants this to be set in stone.  Can he tie himself down like this, can he make that choice to stay, forever if it comes to it?

At the same time, hasn’t he already?  Just a day without being able to go into the noodle shop leaves him aimless.  A day without Pigsy and he is lost, without much to do or see.  He has centered himself about the warm air of noodles and the gruff smile of the chef making them.

And that is so, so terrifying.  When you give everything, when someone is your everything, what happens when they leave?  He’s dealt with that enough with his parents, and to become a pair, to be a part of something, he doesn’t think he has the strength for it.

But Pigsy gives and gives, and promised Tang everything, if only Tang would stay.  And Tang is a coward, but not enough to ruin something so simple, so kind, and so honest.

He makes a decision, and heads to the bank.

The next day, the noodle shop opens.  Tang is there when it does, settling into his barstool without fanfare.  He follows Pigsy’s movements with sharp eyes, notes the rumpled form of his shirt, how his pants aren’t tucked into his dress shoes, how his feet shuffle against the tile instead of stomping with purpose.  Pigsy moves slow, turns to look at Tang and has bags under his eyes—or could they be red from crying?  Tang isn’t sure.

His heart aches, as Pigsy regards him with something like heartbreak.  Pigsy says nothing, turns back to his work, and Tang watches.

Step one.

He heads to the market between the lunch and dinner rushes, picks out the ingredients from memory.  He’s walked with Pigsy enough times to know what it is that he has to get.  He comes back to the shop with an armful of grocery bags, heading upstairs to their apartment.  Pigsy never locks it during the workday, and Tang uses that fact and knowledge to his advantage.

He has no idea how to do this, but he chops the vegetables and meat and sets the water to boil.  Brings forth the memories of two years of watching Pigsy make the same thing over and over, and maybe looks up a recipe or two on his phone for reference.

By the time Pigsy comes upstairs, when the shop closes, it’s ready.  Tang pours the servings into two bowls, and nearly jumps and drops everything when the door opens.

“Welcome home,” he says, braver than he feels.

Pigsy stares at him, at the bowl of steaming broth, and sets his chef’s hat on its hook.  He pulls off his shoes, puts up his chef’s coat, leaving him in a t-shirt and slacks.

Tang watches Pigsy’s movements instead of thinking about how to approach the situation.  He gets a little distracted, until Pigsy hops up onto one of the island chairs, pulling a bowl towards himself.  Tang sits across from him, waiting for Pigsy to take a sip.

Pigsy takes the chopsticks offered, as well as the spoon.  He takes a sip.  His face remains carefully neutral. 

Tang takes a sip a few moments after.  He promptly sputters into his bowl, and laughs.

“God, this is terrible!” he can’t stop laughing, and he can see a smile peeking at the edges of Pigsy’s mouth.  “I tried to make it like yours, but I guess I’m coming up short,” he glances at Pigsy, looks him up and down.  

Pigsy’s face is dusted with a pleased blush.  “Shaddup.  And hey, it ain’t worse than my first attempt at cooking.” 

Tang snorts at that one.  “I doubt that.  But, do tell.  I don’t think you’ve ever told me why you decided to become a cook in the first place, anyway.”

This is the start.  Tang makes Pigsy a meal, and Pigsy tells him a story.

That night, he sleeps next Pigsy, like usual, and traces the way the moonlight sets upon Pigsy’s face.  He needs to do more.  He needs to be more, and he’s pretty sure financial support would be somewhat helpful, so he schemes.

Step two.

A few days later, as the air between them settles into something like normal, he appears one afternoon, change in his pocket and bills in his wallet.

“A bowl of noodles, please.” He sets the money on the counter.  It’s enough for at least three bowls of noodles, but that’s by design.  

“Keep the change.” He evene winks, like it’s a joke

Pigsy eyes the money and then gets the most offended look on his face, as expected. Before he can make a move to either argue or even respond, Tang pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose and explains.

“Didn’t you know?  This month is my charity month.  I go to different establishments and pay to keep them afloat.”

Pigsy rolls his eyes.  “Pshh, I don’t need your charity to keep this place runnin’!  Pigsy’s Noodles is a thriving establishment,” he rebuffs.

“So you’re refusing my service?” Tang responds, like a challenge.

He raises a brow, and watches as Pigsy gets redder and redder.

“One bowl of noodles, coming right up,” Pigsy manages through gritted teeth.

Tang hides a laugh behind his hand as Pigsy scoops up the money and grumbles, shoving two of the bills into the cash register and one into the tip jar.

Because MK had been bemoaning a lack of sketchbook paper, a lack of money for replacing such, and just like every time MK talks about something he wants, off handed or to complain because that’s how he deals, Pigsy will take some of the money that should go to the shop into the tip jar when MK doesn’t look, smiling to himself when MK excitedly realizes that, thanks to the tip jar, he can get what it was he thought he couldn’t—

Because Pigsy gives and gives and gives, pieces of himself scattered across and holding together the people he’s chosen to keep close, regardless if Pigsy is the one who ends up falling apart in the end, and Tang wants to fill up the spaces that Pigsy has lost from his generosity.

Tang takes his bowl of noodles and smirks, like he’s won.  That night, when they’re sitting on the couch and watching TV, Pigsy leans his head on Tang’s shoulder.

“You coulda just said you wanted to start payin’ rent,” he mutters.

Tang snickers.  “Where’s the fun in that?  You got so red, I thought you were going to become a tomato.”

At that, Pigsy sits up.

“I’ll show you a tomato—c’mere!”

Maybe it’s a bit dangerous to challenge someone who knows all of your ticklish spots.  Tang laughs until he cries, and concedes to Pigsy’s victory. 

Step three doesn’t really register.  He doesn’t think about it, because the first two steps have brought him back into that comfortable routine.  Maybe he might have fallen into the same bad habits, if not for his hyperawareness of Pigsy’s moods in the following weeks.  He doesn’t want to miss something, like he did before.  He wants to be attentive, be kind.

He wants Pigsy to never again think of or ask the questions he did, that night.  He wants Pigsy to know, immediately, what they are.  Even if Tang is afraid to define it.

It’s a typical day at the shop, but Pigsy is a bit more tired than normal.  Some days, this happens.  Pigsy would never hire another chef, even though he has enough business to afford it, and being the only cook in a bustling restaurant means little breaks and consistent exhaustion.

Tang still makes them dinner, most nights.  He tries a new recipe each day, because why not?  Pigsy takes to each one like a food critic, and his descriptions have Tang in stitches every time—

“I never thought you could turn broccoli into soup.”

“Okay, so I cooked it too long!”

“You liquified a vegetable!  Without blending!  That’s like...did you use magic on this?  Tang, did you use magic on this.”

—He’s not a very good cook, yet, but Pigsy eats anything he makes anyway.

Today, Pigsy is already tired, and he clearly doesn’t have the energy to deal with an annoying customer.

He has to anyways.

“This isn’t what I ordered last time!  I ordered your original noodle bowl two weeks ago, and it tasted far better than this!” The irate woman slams her empty bowl on the counter.

Tang wonders if she understands the irony of complaining about a meal she finished.

“Ma’am, I make every bowl of noodles the same.  I’m the only cook here.  You either ordered somethin’ else, or your taste buds changed in two weeks.” Pigsy isn’t polite to customers like these, but Tang has to commend him for holding back, for still calling her ‘Ma’am’.  Tang has a few different names he’d call her.

“I know what I ordered, and my tastebuds didn’t change.  You clearly made it wrong!  I demand a refund immediately!” She shouts in his face.

Pigsy goes from pink to red.  “Look, lady, you finished your meal.  I ain’t giving you back the money for shit you ate.” He spits, and she leans back, aghast.

“The nerve!” She leans back, aghast.  “I don’t know what I expected from a pig—” 

She freezes as a pair of chopsticks sticks its way between the two angry faces.

“Excuse me,” Tang starts.  

His glasses flash, and he doesn’t bother standing.  His arm divides the space, as he leans back in his chair with a bowl in his free hand.  He pushes her back, ignores the look of confusion on Pigsy’s face.  “I suggest you get over yourself.  This behavior certainly isn’t doing anything for your looks.”

The woman leans back, crosses her arms.

“And you are?” She hisses.

“I’m his partner,” Tang says, and surprises himself with how easily the title falls out of his mouth.  “And you don’t get to talk to him that way.  If anyone is acting in poor taste, it’s you.”

Pigsy’s face is slack, his eyes are wide, and the red of anger on his face has given way to the dusty rose Tang has come to expect as Pigsy’s blush.

The woman opens her mouth, finger raised.  Tang raises his eyebrow in waiting.  But then she huffs, turns on her heel, and leaves.

Tang doesn’t give her a second thought, turning back to his own bowl of noodles—which have tasted the same in the two years he’s been eating here, so she’s full of it, clearly—before glancing over at Pigsy, who is staring at him with eyes full of something.

He has never seen Pigsy’s eyes shine like that before.

His face warms, and he buries it in his scarf and bowl.  Pigsy smiles, and turns back to work.

That night, they’re sitting on the couch after eating another concoction that could barely be called food— “You’re getting better at this.”  “You don’t have to lie to me.”  “Bold of you to assume I would spare your feelings when it comes to your cooking skills.”—and Pigsy’s hand slides away from his lap and rests on top of Tang’s.  Casual.

“My partner, huh?” Pigsy says over the buzz of the television.  

Tang flushes. “It seemed an appropriate word to use.”

“Sure.”

Pigsy’s voice holds a laugh, and Tang could leave it here, he could.   It would be far too easy to settle, to let it fall complacent.

But Tang has let the ocean lap at his heels, and now all he wants to do is dive.

“Hey,” he turns Pigsy’s face towards his, and—

Pigsy’s lips are warm.

Pigsy’s eyes are blown wide, and Tang closes his quickly, worried about the response, worried about Pigsy’s reaction.

Dimly, in the back of his head, he thinks ‘It’s the best he’s ever tasted’ and he has to squash the laugh that bubbles up his throat, because it isn’t appropriate right now.  Pigsy's snout practically crushes his nose, and the sharp hairs on his face prickle Tang's skin. 

He breaks away.  Pigsy’s smile is blinding, a rare event.  His face is flushed, both of them are flushed and Tang fidgets with his glasses.  There’s a beat of silence, as they stare at each other, before they both turn back to the TV to avoid the ever so awkward eye contact.

They watch whatever’s on, for a minute of crushing silence.

“Alright,” Pigsy finally sighs, long sufferingly fond, and he leans against Tang as if tang were his rock.  The ocean crashes against the sea, and the rock stays steady.  “Guess I’m stuck with you.”

Tang inclines his head so it’s resting on top of Pigsy’s.  The rock erodes, and becomes something new.  Moves with the ocean, given enough time.

“Where else would I get free food?”

Pigsy laughs.

[factual-fantasy]

I WANNA SEE ALL UR UNDERTALE ART AND IDEAS🥺🥺🥺I WOULD LOV TO READ AN EXPLANATION OF UR LAST TWO POSTS

...Aight, bet.

I’m going to have to be slightly vague for a few reasons. For one, because people seemed to like this idea, I have been expanding it more and working through it, this means everything is subject to change. Second is if I go too far into detail it’ll take too long.

So, the story.

This takes place in a Refinedtale like universe. i.e. Chara, Asriel and Gaster are alive and on the surface after a pacifist run. Now, In this story Frisk, Chara and Asriel are friends with Monster kid, abbreviated to MK. Now they somehow end up in this huge cave system, with tunnels and huge rooms. A HUGE plot hole that made me shy away from posting about this story is I have no explanation for how they got there. They just wake up there separated for no reason. They weren’t doing anything strange or magic related, no they were just sleeping in their beds I guess and woke up in this weird place. No Its not supposed to be back in the underground.

So, the kiddos wake up confused, find each other and decide to look around. They come into a big room and find Toriel standing in the middle. Her outlines are white and the rest of her body is black. Her face is also blotched out, just like Papyrus in the first post. They try to approach her, but she attacks them with everything she’s got. Like really, she is trying hard to kill these kids. The kids fight back and keep trying to talk to her. Asriel manages to slip through the battle and pounce on his mom. He’s sobbing and begging her to stop and that she’s scaring him. She instantly stops. Her lines turn black and her body turns green. She becomes really connected to Asriel and becomes his servant all of a sudden.

The idea is that if one of the kids touch one of the blotched monsters, the monsters lines will turn black and they’ll change to what ever color the kids is. Asriel = Green, Chara = Red, Frisk = Blue, and MK = orange.

Toriel loves Azzy now and carries him around. hence this picture,

The kids are a bit nervous because she literally just tried to kill them. Now after that battle they start to look for more people.. and fine Undyne. Undyne was really intense, but MK managed to slip behind everyone and ram his head into Undyne’s leg, knocking her over and changing her silhouette to orange.

They now assume that a lot of other monsters are around here, and all you have to do to get them out of that state is to touch them. And depending on who touches them, their color will change and they will follow that specific kid around.

So they continue searching and find their next opponent, Undyne lends them each a small spear to protect themselves.. and.. its turns out Sans is next.. this one was really upsetting. I have touched a little on Chara’s inner demons in Refinedtale with this post. In this fight with Sans, the battle is really tense and hard, its a sense of bitter sweet nostalgia for Chara. Sans was always the most interesting battle in the timelines wasn’t he? Sans is seemingly the most harmless monster there is! So small, so frail.. But so powerful too. When Chara remembers the battles with him she feels shame, but also excitement! Sans’s battles were the best ones. Its because it was truly personal. Sans knew she did something. This powerful hatred came deep from within his soul. It was terrifying, and wildly exciting!! Being in this place again, where she could try and kill the comedian once more.. was just.. so thrilling! She couldn’t stop herself, she couldn’t hold back! She lost herself in the madness..

..and went way, too far.

Chara stood there for a moment, panting and smiling from ear to ear.. and then it hit her. The excitement was gone.. and in its place was just dread. Shortly after realizing what she just did, she burst into tears seeing Sans’s head scattered all over the floor. Everyone is shocked, a RESET isn’t an option here, Sans has gotta be dead. Chara crumples to the floor and cries. But next thing you know, Sans’s face shards gravitate towards his body on the floor. His face reconstructs itself, he changes to a light red color and Stands up. In the picture, her knee bumps Sans hand, thus counting as being touched. He walks over to Chara and helps her stand up. He’s now protecting her and loving her like Tori is to Azzy. After a long while of recovering and apologizing, they move on to look for more people. This is when they find Papyrus.

The fight with Papyrus was beyond anything they ever expected. It was like they were fighting Sans again.. but Papyrus was so much stronger than Sans, he was so much FASTER than Sans, it was insane! He could focus on every single one of them all at once! There was a post (that I can’t find) explaining how its very likely that Papyrus is stupid strong- he just holds back on you, anyway.. So this fight goes horribly, everyone is getting hurt. Chara tells Sans to do something, try to get Papyrus to stop, make it so one of them can touch him. So Sans teleports above and behind Papyrus’s head. In the picture above, that’s Sans in the middle of teleporting. He wraps his arms around Papyrus’s neck in an attempt to stop him. Making him lose his grip on Asriel.

Papyrus reaches his arm back, snatches Sans out from behind him, holds him up by his shirt and is about to kill him.. when..

Asriel begs “Papyrus stop!! Stop fighting us!!” Papyrus turns green.. the blasters and bones disappear.. then he gently sets Sans down. Not a word is spoken between the two brothers. But you could cut the fear and tension between them with a knife.

They all do their best to recover from this fight and move on. They keep searching and then find Alphys.

This one was hard because no one could get near her. She would sit completely still and the electricity would just come to them. The idea is everyone distracts her while Frisk sneaks behind her and manages to touch her. She turns blue and they move onto the next monster, luckily not much heart ache here.

Then they get to Mettaton, there’s a slightly angsty yet cool part where Mettaton is attacking Frisk and Alphys jumps in to protect her. Its like the Scientist vs its beloved creation you know? Anyway this is where things start to get fuzzy. I haven’t decided who gets Mettaton or how they get him. But lets just say its MK?

Now, I haven’t been able decide if Grillby will be one of the Blotched monsters. You might say that Grillby isn’t a significant character to the Undertale timeline at all, and you would be right. However in Refinedtale he is. Grillby plays a huge part in Sans’s life and to the overall movement in the timeline. And since this is Refinedtale based I figured it would make sense if he was in this.. but for some reason it just feels a bit off.. anyways, if Grillby was to be in this, he would be right after the Mettaton battle. I feel like Asriel would be the one to get him because he has a bit of a special advantage when it comes to fire type magic.

Next would be Gaster. Just like Papyrus, he was stronger than expected. The kids all kind’a saw him as a weak, broken old man that was way past his prime. Well they were completely wrong and apparently they forgot where Sans and Papyrus’s powers came from to begin with. So the battle is rough, the kids are tired and just manage to snag him. I can see Chara being fed up and charging through his attacks in a fit of rage and throwing him to the floor. He turns red and things are okay for a while.. They rest and try to collect themselves.

..they all know who’s next..

The four kids get carried through the cave system to conserve energy while they look for Asgore. They find him and decide that the kids trying to fight him is a bad idea. They don’t know if they can die here and they’re exhausted. Sans has demonstrated that the blotched monsters cant seem to die so.. they form a plan.

Sans, Papyrus, Gaster, Undyne, and Mettaton will all attack and just try to get him pinned on the floor, then one of the kids will run over and boop him on the nose. Simple! In the meantime Toriel (maybe Grillby) and Alphys will stand back  to protect the kids. Cool right?..

(warning, Gore reading up ahead)

..Well, there’s a reason why Asgore is the king of monsters you know. It goes horribly. Gaster is pinned to the floor by Asgore’s foot and has his rib cage smashed in. Papyrus is impaled in the chest by his trident and is pinned to the floor, destroying his rib cage as well. Sans is pulling hard on Asgores soul with blue magic, trying desperately to get him on the floor and off his family. He’s blasting him in the shoulder with Blasters and impaling him with large bone spears. Undyne has a spear dug into his other shoulder and is bashing him in the head and yanking on his horns. Mettaton is using guns and shooting him from every exposed angle, he’s using his arms to pull on his knees in an attempt to get them to buckle beneath him..

...but he just wont go down.. no matter how hard they try, its not working..

Asgore throws Undyne off of him and smashes her head against the floor, causing it to crumple and shatter. Sans is mercilessly yanked by the arm and thrown hard against the cave walls, causing him to break in every area and the kids to shriek and cry. He kicks Gaster aside and shakes Papyrus off of his trident. He then uses the trident to slash at Mettatons head so hard his head comes flying off.

(Gore reading over)

The terror sets in as Asgore makes his way over to the crying kids. Toriel is literally on fire, Alphys is sparking, (maybe Grillby’s flames are roaring) they’re both(/all) ready to fight. The 5 blotched monsters on the ground slowly regenerate, but they’re not doing it fast enough.

As he steps closer and the crying gets louder, Asriel looks desperately for a way out. He then notices Chara is gone. And Sans has vanished from his place on the floor. Before Asgore can make his move, Chara and Sans drop down from above him and land on his shoulders, Sans’s face hadn’t even reconstructed yet, he didn’t grab on to Asgore and simply slid down on his cloak and collapsed on the floor. Chara gripped tightly to Asgore’s neck and shrieked, “STOP!!”

..He turned red, put down his trident and stopped.

As to what comes after and why this all happened? I don’t know. I imagined the four kids wake up in their beds the next morning and remember all of this, but the blotched monsters don’t. I also thought this could’ve taken place during a picnic. The kids disappear for about 10-20 minutes and show back up running from the forest crying and wounded. I also thought that everyone wakes up on the forest floor and only the kids remember, and everyone else is just confused on how they got there.

Haven’t decided on a beginning or an ending. But that’s pretty much the story in as much detail as I’ve built so far. :} I hope you enjoyed reading this, it came out longer than I intended, but that’s alright I think. ,,^ ^,,

[emptytypewriter]

A Hallmark Celebration | Writing Challenge

This is a thank you to everyone who has followed, supported or even just liked something on my blog. I wouldn’t be celebrating 400 followers today if it wasn’t for all of you. 400 isn’t a lot to other people but it means so much to me. When I set up this blog I wasn’t even 100% sure that people would even like my writing or if my writing was up to par with some of the other writing that I had witnessed here.

Now about 2 years later, 400 of you are being incredible and supporting me consistently even though I’ve been away recovering and going through the process of getting a book published. Which wouldn’t have been possible were it not for the people who encouraged me about my writing since the beginning. All of you have been my rock and my support as a writer and I can’t thank you enough for that but I can give you a writing challenge.

When I started writing here it was other people sharing my work, giving me feedback and loving on it that got me to where I am. So I want to give back to everyone, whether you’re a new writer here or you’ve been writing longer than I have, I hope you have fun and challenge yourself to write something fun.

RULES AND INFORMATION

Give the list a scan and send me an ask with the following: your prompt, your pairing (______ x reader/character), and if you know what the genre ( fluff, angst, etc) is going to be, let me know as well.

You don’t have to be following me to participate, it’d be highly appreciated if you wanted to! It would also mean the world if you could reblog this even if you decide to not participate, just to signal boost it! 

This challenge isn’t only limited to one fandom rather five because I, as a writing blog, am multifandom. You can write for Marvel (All Marver whether it’s Netflix, Fox, Sony, the MCU or even the comics, go wild!), Sherlock, Merlin (because I recently rewatched it.) and Supernatural, DC (All DC applies here too!). If you’re not sure if you can write for a certain character, hit me up and ask.  Or if you want to write for someone not in these fandoms let me know also and it might just be okay.

Keep whatever you write legal, don’t write smut if you’re underage, and no incest! Include the right warnings. I can’t stress this enough. Make sure your warnings are very clearly stated at the start of your fic and that you’re using correct tags! Please be considerate of the dash and the tag that you’re posting in. 

If your fic is long (I’d consider long upwards of 500 words) put it under a ‘read more’.

This challenge will be running from today (June 24), until October 2nd 11:59 pm GMT. I know summer is the peak of all these challenges so I thought I’d give people plenty of time to have a chance to join in with all the other challenges happening. You can join in at any time so long as you post by October 2nd.

I will be compiling all fics that have been submitted with a link to them. If you do a series, please make a masterlist for just that series so I can link the masterlist. 

Once you have posted, please make sure to tag me in it. I want to be able to track down every fic submitted to share them. Tumblr has been fickle lately with tags so you can also use the tag: #ahallmarkcelebrationchallenge that way I can track the tag and everything that appears in it. If all else fails, your fic doesn’t appear in the tags and Tumblr won’t allow you to tag me. Please send me a message with a link to your fic if I haven’t reblogged/liked your fic within the first two days.

If you have any other questions at all don’t be shy and have the most fun writing!!

PROMPTS

“I don’t know that you need a matchmaker as much as you need an introduction.”

“Deceptively simple, yet brilliant.”

“I believe _____ could use all the help he/she can get.”

“I’m not interested in promises, only results.”

“If my instinct is right, there’s nothing I can do about it.”

“Food always helps men think.”

“No Tiara?” “No, they wouldn’t let me take it through customs.”

“Keeping people at arms length is an occupational hazard.”

“You should put a window in that wall you’ve put up.”  ( Matt Murdock/Bucky Barnes x Reader @littledarlinwrites angst)

“Just the man I was looking.”

“There’s a fine line between being helpful and being deceitful.”

“Oh, thank goodness…I accept your apology.” “That wasn’t an apology.”

“Try walking a mile in my shoes.” “I would but the limo’s so close.”

“Duty calls, a ribbon that needs to be cut apparently.”

“Look at you! You’re a nice guy after all.”

“He/She deserves someone who loves him/her.” “Like you do?”

“From baby steps to giant leaps.”

“How come you’re still in bed?” “I love _____”

“Love has a way of doing that. At times it makes fools of us all but the real fool is the one who fails to heed its calling.”

“Let me guess your prince awaits?” “Yes and impatiently.”

“Leave the big picture stuff to me.”

“I’ve known you since seventh grade. I know you better than you know you.”

“_____ has no integrity.”

“I can’t work for _____ if this is how I’m going to be treated.”

“It’s like I’m unstoppable!”

“My ‘baby blue eyes’?” “Uh, I don’t know, they’re more aquamarine to me.”

“I guess when you’re a kazillionaire you figure you can treat people any way you want.”

“Huh…surprise?”

“Did you go all the way to the North Pole for that Cocoa?”

“I was a girl scout for seven consecutive years and knots were my favourite.”

“When I chose what I wanted, my wishes, from _____’s perspective the magic died.”

“You are so refreshingly honest.”

“I beg your pardon.” “Pardon denied.”

“I can’t go back to the person I was. I won’t.”

“He’s just a client, he doesn’t have to be your friend.”

“What if I told you I wanted you to stay?” ( Mycroft x Cop!Reader @livy1391​ angst )

“Are you ready for the best day of your life?”

“If I had a boyfriend this is exactly the wedding I’d want.” ( Wanda x Reader @19mrs-rogers18​ fluff )

How can I like someone so much personally, but dislike them so much professionally.”

“I’m on the hook for everything.”

PLOT/AU PROMPTS

**Take these as an initial premise, workshop them as much as makes you comfortable**

A commitment-phobe takes the job as a busy single parent’s nanny. ( Bucky Barnes x Reader @itsjamesstan angsty fluff )

A delve into family history leads an up and coming journalist to an unexpected helper.

Always helping those around in getting their happily ever after, a couple doesn’t realise their own relationship slipping away.

An unsuspecting baker’s mother orchestrates their meet-cute with a doctor after failed attempts of trying to set them up on blind dates.

A wedding planner is set to plan their cousin/close friend’s wedding when their cousin/close friend’s PI ex comes back in their lives to check whether or not the groom is cheating.

I decided to trial the plot/au prompts with a few. If demand is there I’ll as more as for now I hope you have fun and thank you once again for all the support and follows!!

all the love, mk x

I’m tagging people who liked the initial post: @lokeystan | @hannahspanner98 | @germansarechill | @justmasblack | @simple-live | @heyitsaznfangirl | @littledarlinhavefaithinme | @izzy10718 | @tahliamalfoydepp | @paperlessbook | @winterxblogger | @speguttibiach | @hallow-hazel | @msknight10 | @we-flower-fan | @onemore2morrow | @friedskeletoncopexpert | @fanderrawr | @fanfictionsilove | @lexipumpkins | @infinitelylizzie | @meddowstaylah | @livy1391 | @unknownwonder | @deanlovespiebabyandmeloljkiwish | @seppys-return-to-madness | @19mrs-rogers18 | @permanentlyconfused221b | @mybabyboytony | @adefectivedetective | @prettyxlittlexwriter | @volklana

[skeletonscribbles]

Wishes - Chapter 9

ayy here it is in full! I know it’s 10:36pm EST but we’re gonna do this anyway I don’t care

Title: “I Will Go Sailing No More” (Mike) Rating: T for general sadness Word Count: 3500 or so Warnings: Bill hasn’t had sensitivity training SO some pretty iffy discussion around mental health, religion, et al

Read on Ao3

Tag List:  @roobarrtrashmouth @jem-carstairs-is-perfection @tozier-club@aizeninlefox@stanheartsbill@latinxrichie@softeds@pretzelstoday@melancholypurple@wheezygreens@ayyyymichele @loser-marsh

MIKE HANLON TRANSFERRING TO SOMEWHERE IN ATTRACTIONS Currently: AT THE HOOP-DE-DOO REVIEW WITH HIS BOYFRIENDS FEBRUARY 14th 6:00 p.m.

“Round em up pardners,” the frontier themed (cowboy) cast member called out from the front podium of Pioneer Hall at the Fort Wilderness Resort. “Showtime in 30 minutes! Those in the front, come on down and let’s get you seated. Don’t want the fun to start without anybody!”

Mike sighed and shuffled forwards. Behind him, he heard Bill and Stan do the same.

‘Oh, and Happy Valentine’s Day!” the CM called out as an afterthought, and Mike’s stomach dropped down all the way to his feet.

This was gonna be an experience, and not in the fun, life-changing way.

“How romantic,” Stan said acridly. Mike winced as he heard him kick a rock. He wished to God he’d cancelled this reservation - and he almost had, about a week ago, after Bill had made a particularly unfortunate comment that he hadn’t realized was anti-Semetic until Stan was halfway out the door. Mike had opened the My Disney Experience app as Bill stomped around in the kitchen of Mike and Ben’s apartment, and had hovered his thumb over the ‘cancel reservation’ button, but had ultimately decided to keep it until everything had cooled off. After all, after that kind of blowout, it was usually safe to assume that things could only get better.

This relationship was really doing a number on Mike’s optimism.

“It’ll be fun,” Bill tried half-heartedly, speeding up so that he was walking next to Mike. “You haven’t been, right, Mike? It’s fun.”

Someone gave a whooping yell from inside Pioneer Hall, and someone else yodeled in response. Mike was pretty sure that based on those two things alone, he could deduce that the things that Bill found fun were a pretty far cry from what he himself was interested in. If Stan’s loud sigh and exaggerated shuffling was anything to go on, he was feeling the same way.

(Dating a white boy was a little different, it turned out, if said white boy was Jewish. There was a little more camaraderie, a little more of a shared understanding in that.

Christian white boys from the Illinois suburbs? Well...that was a different story.)

At last, they reached the podium. Mike took a deep breath, and proceeded.

“Hanlon, party of 3,” he told the cowboy guy.

“Three…” the CM ran his finger down the list of names on his iPad until he found the one he was looking for. “Righty-o. Three cowpokes? Lonely Valentine's Day for you?”

Yes, Mike thought, as his mouth said, “No.”

The CM blinked, shrugged, and gestured for them to follow another Little House on the Prairie-type female employee into Pioneer Hall. “All right, then. Have a nice night!”

“Do you think he thinks it’s weird?” Bill asked, looking back at Cowboy CM with concern.

“He’s definitely seen weirder.” Stan had moved up to walk next to Mike and Bill. His mouth was pulled into a tight line, and Mike couldn’t help but feel guilty that Stan had been dragged out when he very clearly didn’t want to be there. “Don’t worry about it. I’m wondering, though - do we have to participate in this show? Are people going to touch me?”

“No one’s going to touch you,” Mike promised, sliding a hand over the small of Stan’s back and rubbing his thumb in reassuring circles.

“Probably not,” Bill amended, and Mike shot him an exasperated glare.

“Dude.”

“Just saying,” Bill muttered.

They were seated about three rows back from the stage, and their drink orders were taken immediately. Mike had been planning on staying sober so that they wouldn’t have to pay for an Uber on their way back, but all of that was out the window in the face of the tension in the air. All three of them ordered sangria, and when the waiter informed them that it was bottomless, Stan audibly muttered “Good” under his breath.

When the waiter walked away, the only noise for five solid minutes was the hum of the tourists at the surrounding tables.

You should have known this would happen, a voice in the back of Mike’s head whispered. Jumping into things without getting to know them at all…?

“We should talk,” Mike finally blurted, if only to silence that horrible, horrible voice. “Right?”

“We did talk,” Bill pointed out, eyes burning little laser holes into Mike’s forehead. The waiter came back with their sangrias (Stan’s white and Bill and Mike’s red), and silently, they each brought their glasses to their mouths and drank more than what was probably acceptable for a first swallow.

“Mike’s right,” Stan acquiesced, pulling back from his drink and wincing at its acrid aftertaste. “It’s not enough to have had one after-Christmas tell-all, especially given that nothing’s changed.”

The Christmas conversation had been a veritable shitshow. Mike had been talking with his father a lot in and around the holidays, which had gotten him thinking about his relationship (where it was going, how he was handling it, etc.), so he was admittedly a little distant in working some of that out through late November and early December, but Bill had made it sound like he was completely checked out. Stan had tried his best to mediate, but Bill wasn’t very interested in mediating, and as such, they’d come out worse from that than they’d been before.

Fate and the cosmos apparently had an expiration date. Real life had 100% kicked in, and Mike absolutely did not care for it.

Still, he was a good person, and he did still care for Bill and Stan (especially Stan, wholeheartedly Stan), so he figured he needed to keep trying for at least a little bit longer.

“So,” he began, twisting his napkin in his lap nervously, “I think…”

“HOOP DE DOO!” The band revved up, and the ensemble ran in from the back. Mike rolled his eyes and took another long drink of his sangria. Of COURSE the timing was going to work out like that.

Bill, for his part, had relief written all over his face. He clapped along with the tourists, smiling and sipping his drink, and Mike felt anger - God, how long had it been since he’d felt anger - simmering at the base of his chest. Why didn't Bill want to hear what he and Stan had to say? There was an entitlement in it that made Mike’s blood run hot.

Stan had obviously seen the flash of negativity that had swept over Mike’s face. He immediately slid a hand out and over, ignoring Bill’s glee entirely in favor of bringing Mike to a more agreeable emotional place.

“Just think,” he said, looking Mike in the eyes, “this could be you at the Country Bears when you transfer to MK attractions.”

That got Bill’s attention. He snapped his gaze from the stage to his boyfriends. “Transfer?”

“Oh.” Mike shifted uncomfortably. “Yeah, I put in to transfer to attractions. I wanted DAK but apparently they can move me faster if I agree to go to MK, so I’m pretty sure that I’m gonna agree to to to MK. I thought I told you?”

(He knew he hadn’t told Bill about that. He had a gut feeling that Bill wouldn’t respond well.)

True to form, Bill was frowning, looking every inch the exasperated tour guide as he considered Mike’s words.

“You sure that’s a good idea?” he asked finally, shooting a glare over to one of the entertainers when it looked like they were going to come interact with their table.

“I don’t follow,” Mike said, mirroring Bill’s frown.

“It’s just--” Bill was struggling to find the words for what he wanted to say, which made Mike extremely suspicious. “Dating someone you work with? Is that wise?”

A waiter slid a slab of cornbread on to their table. It fell with a loud clatter, and Mike winced. He finished his glass of sangria, and wordlessly, the waiter took the glass away.

“Technically, we all work together,” Stan pointed out, clutching his drink and pointedly ignoring the cornbread.

“Yeah, but like,’ Bill gestured vaguely with his hands. “Same park is different than park-park-hotel, you know?”

“Richie and Eddie make it work,” Mike said, angrier than he intended to.

Stan winced. “Sort of. What a mess.”

“I thought they were making it work, anyway,” Mike amended. They okay?”

“Oh--” Stan rolled his eyes and waved his hands. “They’re actually fine, but there’s always something. I don’t know what Eddie’s freaking out about right now, but Richie’s current big thing is that he wants to have sex, but doesn’t know how to ask. It’s like his hiatus from sex turned him back into a virgin again or something. He wasn’t like this in undergrad.”

“Maybe he just really cares,” Mike suggested, feeling heavy at the thought of his friend still being nervous about communicating with Eddie after all this time. It had been months, now, and the two of them were still kind of behaving like middle-schoolers.

“Maybe he should be on medication,” Bill countered. “How long has he been this jittery-anxious? And Stan, didn’t you say he was depressed? Has he been auditioning or anything?”

“I said I was worried,” Stan shot back. “Where the hell are you getting the rest of that? You barely even know him.”

“I’ve known him for three years,” Bill said incredulously, staring at Stan like Stan had just admitted to murder. “Just because you’ve known him the longest--”

“You two didn’t spend time together until this past November,” Stan said, acid in his voice. “You have no right to insinuate that stuff about him.”

Bill rolled his eyes and downed the rest of his sangria. “You guys are offended by everything. You remind me of this creative writing professor I had in college--”

The waitress came back with drink refills before Bill could finish his story, and Mike could have kissed him for it. He really hadn’t wanted to hear about the rest of Bill’s college experience.

“Not offended,” Mike said, summoning what little patience he had left. “Just concerned, is all, and wishing you would maybe think before you speak sometimes. Your experiences aren’t all universal.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Bill said shortly, turning his body so that he was facing the stage. Mike met Stan’s eyes and could tell that they were on the same exasperated page. Of course Bill wasn’t interested in hearing out their concerns. Of course.

“I think you don’t want Mike to transfer to MK because it makes you feel special to be the only one that knows how things work there,” Stan called, loud enough to get Bill’s attention (as well as the attention of the two families of guests on either side of them). “I know it’s not because you don’t want to share space for the sake of the relationship. You would never run into each other in the Magic Kingdom. Trillions of people work there. No.” Stan paused, and Bill’s face twitched like he was thinking about turning away again. To his credit, he didn’t. “We’ve seen how much you love giving tours and being in charge. MK is your turf. Why don’t you just say so instead of making things up?”

There was a tense silence in which Mike and Stan stared at Bill, and Bill stared at the floor. In the background, one of the performers was doing a solo number, but Mike was beyond caring about what was happening on stage, except that they were totally wasting money by not watching. Bill’s eyes kept edging up, like he was thinking the same thing about how much dinner and a show had cost, but he resisted for a good two minutes. Finally, he seemed to make a decision, and rolled his shoulders back, looking first at Stan and then slowly over to Mike.

“Okay, fine,” Bill said quietly. “I like having MK to myself. It’s selfish. That’s why I didn’t say it.”

The soloist on stage finished, and a parade of waiters waltzed through the audience area, dropping off chicken, biscuits, corn, and beans as they passed by. Mike noted without interest that they hadn’t even eaten their cornbread yet. He really should have cancelled this reservation.

“I’m still gonna work at MK,” Mike told Bill, “whether you want me to or not.”

(Truthfully, Mike had been on the fence about moving to MK immediately versus waiting a little bit for a DAK position to open up, but Bill had pissed him off badly enough that his mind was now made up. Mike figured it was a good thing that he didn’t get mad that often, because he was learning quickly that the probability of his making snap decisions increased by at least 3000% when he was upset.)

Bill stared back at him, eyes empty. “Well, I can’t stop you, can I?”

That was the wrong thing to say. Stan’s expression was twisting sour again, and before Mike could reach out to keep him from speaking, he was addressing Bill pointedly. “Why not ‘I’m happy for you’, Bill? Why not just ‘okay’? Mike’s wanted to transfer for a really long time! You could at least pretend to be happy!”

“But I’m not happy,” Bill said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world, “and I don’t want to lie.”

Mike thought about his parents and the lie he could have lived, and felt his stomach burn as his next words came out of his mouth. “Sometimes it’s better to be kind than it is to be honest.”

“Everything okay over here?” Their waiter came back through, and Mike watched, detached, as Bill downed his sangria again so that he could get yet another refill. “Food all right?”

“It’s great,” Stan lied, jerking forward and beginning to spoon beans on to his plate. “I think some drink refills are in order, though.” He put down the spoon and drank heavily from his sangria for emphasis.

“If you’re sure,” the waiter said warily.

“We’re sure,” Stan said, firm and direct. After the waiter was gone, he turned back to Bill. “See? A little lie. Didn’t hurt him, no one was put on the spot, we’re getting more sangria. Easy.”

Bill huffed and adjusted his shoulders again. “It’s not that easy for me. I’m surprised - we’ve been together for what, four months? Five? And I thought--”

“You didn’t think wrong, Bill,” Mike assured him. “We know you don’t like to lie or break promises. We know that you’re an action guy and like to jump into things. We know you like to be in control...and we like those things. We do. It’s just...it’s tough, you know? Because sometimes all of your - I don’t know, Red Ranger personality things make it kind of hard to talk to you.”

For the first time all night, the corners of Bill’s mouth twitched up. “Red Ranger?”

“Sure.” Mike smiled back, trying to keep with the positivity. “I’m Blue Ranger, Stan’s Green Ranger.”

“Eddie’s the Pink Ranger,” Stan mumbled to himself, giggling into his sangria.

“The point is,” Mike continued, “we kind of feel like you’re not hearing us when we talk to you. That’s all.”

The show was resuming, and Bill’s eyes flickered up to the stage again. Mike felt his own smile slip away. Hadn’t they just talked about Bill not listening? He could practically feel Bill’s attention drifting off.

“Bill,” Mike said again, trying very hard to be gentle. “What do you think?”

Bill’s eyes flickered hesitantly back towards Mike. “I...don’t know.”

And there it was.

“You don’t know?” Stan asked, punctuating the question with a piercing stare. Mike didn’t blame Bill for flinching away from that particular Stan look.

“I’ve had a lot to drink,” Bill admitted. “I feel okay right now, but I have a feeling when I go to use the bathroom…”

“That’s when you know,” Mike agreed.

“Okay.” Stan nodded, brow furrowed in thought. “Okay, we’ll sleep on it, but Bill - I know you’re set in your ways, but if you really don’t think you can compromise…”

“Don’t,” Bill said softly. Mike averted his eyes out of habit. He never knew what to do when people got emotional in front of him. He loved his parents very much, but he hadn’t had very much practice in feelings response with his ex-military father and strong, solemn mother. “I don’t want to think about that yet.”

Mike looked hard at Stan, who was examining Bill’s face. From the intensity in his eyes, Mike knew that Stan’s mind was made up, and not the way that Bill was leaning. It was going to be up to Mike to make the final decision.

He didn’t want that kind of responsibility, especially tonight. He’d had a lot to drink, too.

“You have to know it’s a possibility,” Stan urged. “We can’t just keep ignoring things, Bill. That’s how we ended up here.”

“You’re one to talk about ignoring things,” Bill shot back, obviously sensing what Stan was getting at. “I could say the same stuff about you as I did earlier about Richie. If we weren’t around, would you even take--”

“Don’t finish that sentence,” Stan said, voice like the edge of a knife. Mike leaned back in his chair, wanting to put physical space between himself and whatever was about to go down. He’d never heard Stan use that tone before. “Do you hear yourself when you talk? Do you hear yourself?”

“I’m just trying to be fair,” Bill said, splaying out his arms. “I don’t know why you guys are attacking me specifically, but it’s messed up, and I’m not--”

“It’s called constructive criticism,” Stan snarled, “ever heard of it? Has anyone ever criticized you before, Bill? Or did you just storm out on everyone that has, like whatever professor you mentioned earlier? That’s not how life works. You can’t just leave-- ”

“Actually, I think I can,” Bill said abruptly, pushing his chair back and standing up. He wobbled for a moment (the sangria was obviously taking effect) and then righted himself, glaring down at Mike and Stan. The kids in the family behind him yelled at him to get out of the way of their view, and he took several steps off to the side. “I’m gonna call Bev and see if she can pick me up. Goodbye.”

Mike watched him walk away, feeling like he should call out but not knowing how. Stan’s eyes were fixed on the stage for the first time all evening.

“This show is garbage,” he said after several long, heavy seconds. “Do you want to go buy a beef brisket sandwich at the Chuck Wagon Food Truck?

Mike looked despondently down at the chicken in front of him.

“Is that what you want, sweetheart?” he asked carefully.

Stan took a deep breath and held out his hand to Mike, palm up. Mike looked at it for a moment, a quiet smile threatening to cross his face.

“I want what you want,” Stan said, expression sad, but firm.

Mike took his hand, and felt a weight lift off of his chest.

“Let’s go eat a sandwich,” Mike said, turning around to see if their waiter was nearby. “Check, please!”

[raifuujin]

To finish out voume 1, an in depth look at Magic Kaito ch 6: The Scarlet Temptress. ( Aka. Akako’s introduction. )

Ch. 1, Ch. 2, Ch. 3,  Ch. 4 , Ch. 5

Okay, but if you were asking about fairest in personality as opposed to looks/charm...

Well, if it were about personality, that mirror wouldn’t even be able to stand. She does not like the idea of not having perfection. Including perfect hair, with her attempt to not seem like she’d thrown a tantrum being hidden by her ‘casually’ brushing it. Entirely in control of her actions, clearly.

This is here mostly to appreciate the details of this mirror frame. Though I also could point out the lines that go over a broken part of the mirror. Also do not know why she didn’t ask who Kid was while she was here. Is this the morning and she’s just getting ready for school and asking the mirror about her beauty is part of her routine. ( And this is apparently the first time it’s told her she’s not going to get every man. Maybe because she just got to this area, it could be the foretelling her getting every man she encounters here. Except one. Which to me makes more sense than ‘absolutely every man will fall for you’. Just limit it to who she’ll be around, and leave a possibility that she’s not supposed to be all powerful charming everyone everywhere. Just most people and it’s applied to all the guys prior to coming here and meeting Kaito. )

Aw, look at all of these unimportant couple things going on with the faceless background people.

...*steeples fingers* There’s a difference between making a translation so the English speaking audience knows what’s going on, and a translation that tries to ignore the culture this is coming from. Because just like in the anime, Aoko is comparing Kaito to Otafuku. A simple translators note for cultural relevance would be fine, and this is why I find it difficult to trust (usually older) translations in general. They can say things that makes sense, but we’re missing full context, and it leads to ignorance. (And it’s a toothache, not a loose tooth. Kaito is way too old to have loose teeth.)

I don’t know, Aoko, he (as a robot), did confess. To you. And he spends all his time with you, even if he’s not interested in your idea of a romantic date. Both of your denials are strong,

Keiko ships them. And Kaito stopped listening to Aoko so quickly when he learned that he could potentially get free chocolate. (Which Gosho later reused in a gag with Kazuha and Heiji.)

I’m slightly interested as to who Keiko’s chocolate was for. Someone who got taken by Akako, as she’s about to talk about it? Or was she going to give Kaito free chocolate, too?

This room should not be able to contain this many guys. Even if we ignore the desks like we hare. This would also cause a bottleneck when more than half of these need to clear out, because this classroom is not 99.9% male. And finally: Did Akako actually make the chocolate, or did she have her servant do it? Or summon them out of nowhere? Because I do not see her being the type to make a hundred chocolates to give out to her slaves, I see it being more like in Brave. Reach tongs into the cauldron and pull out a perfect candy complete with a spell.

I like that Aoko doesn’t judge people she doesn’t know, but I’m on Keiko’s side.

Look at that face. If she were some person lording over all the guys in school and making trouble for others, I’d want to slap her. ( Though that’d be if I noticed it at all, since in real life, I really don’t care for drama or if boys/girls were fawning over someone. )

Hello unimportant girls that we won’t see again. (At the very least, not important enough to name the times they appear. You could argue they appear at the ski slopes in the hot spring, but short haired girl definitely doesn’t exist anymore, and the other two you’d just be guessing.)

B-, how dare you slap that adorable face!

(And while I severely dislike her, she could be taken to know everyone’s names.)

(But yeah, worst sort of person in the world.) Also doesn’t even consider that he’d say no in the slightest, when I doubt she had to slap any of these other guys who are flocked around her. Though, maybe they didn’t have chocolate to begin with, but either way, I don’t feel like she’d have to tell them to only have hers. (And while I believe the majority wouldn’t have had any to get rid of, I’m sure some got at least one from people who were crushing on them or even girlfriends. The idea of Akako making them drop those feelings and possibly legit steal guys from people on the day that girls make their feelings known. Seriously, the most detestable person at her introduction.)

Keiko had already been ticked off earlier, she should be more offended. Or Aoko, Aoko should be defending Kaito as well, he hadn’t done anything to deserve a slap right now. I don’t care if she thinks Akako is pretty, she should be offended that her friend was just hurt by the girl.

Kaito, you should be mad, too. You are far more patient than I’d ever be at unwarranted physical assault. Especially if it made me drop a ton of stuff I was holding.

Her world is literally broken by one person being like ‘no thanks, I don’t want your chocolate’. Has she never dealt with any denial ever? Half the population is female, I’m sure there have to be other people who don’t go along with her terrible actions. (Though I can also just as easily believe she never approaches girls for anything, when she can just make guys do whatever it is she wants.)

Could she manipulate the teacher if she were to get in trouble? Also, looks like the rest of the male army disappeared, probably because now they’re like ‘oh shit, I need to get to class.’ Even the guys in this room immediately drop defending Akako in favor of going along with teacher authority. (Maybe Akako’s magic was stalled at her fragile world being shattered, so she doesn’t have them under her control nor is interested in getting the others back.)

Look at that face. She truly cannot fathom being denied. Shattered.

And because she has such a selfish worldview, and knows she’s supposed to own everyone, automatically assuming that the one person who didn’t beg for forgiveness and lick her feet is the one her magic doesn’t work on. With that kind of mentality, and the implications that she does this sort of thing all the time without repercussions, it’s no wonder she’s not allowed in the DC world. Though that doesn’t excuse nerfing her power in the MK world, Gosho.  (Really, her entire time in the classroom is just. Hate. I think the manga makes her more unlikable than the anime, because her face doesn’t quite capture all the evil going on in these faces. When the style is set in animation, it can lose some expressiveness.)

Though one point to the anime, it gave some reason for him to have lost a handkerchief that he keeps inside his jacket. There’s no explanation, not even a mention that he could have dropped it here. Losing track of something he could use in magic doesn’t feel like Kaito, and I doubt Akako could subtly take it from him.

Pft. The translation leaves a lot to be desired, but it can be entertaining sometimes. ( They were going for ‘worship’. Though, it’d have been easier to use ‘ritual’, since worship wouldn’t have made sense to use in context. )

Never denied, can abuse whoever she wants, someone like her servant only makes her personality worse because he will only ever agree and do everything she demands. I’d really like to know where her parents are and it they were ever terrible as well. Bad upbringing regardless.

Gotta love all the details Gosho used to put into his older works. Though I’d like to know just how this house is set-up, assuming this all basement.

And here we have Kaito being an idiot. Thinking that things are going too smoothly is how he got tricked twice during the heist for the crown. No one there, light shined in face. All the officers knocked out and things too easy, trap because Nakamori popped out and grabbed him. Put them together, and steal Kid’s idea of knocking people out, and we have no one around, trap set up in the case, and going to knock Kid out while hiding in the exhibits around the room.

Note: This is Kaito’s fourth heist that we know about. (First was Anne, second was first attempt at a crown, third was a second attempt at a crown.) It’s ‘KID’s’ overall eighth theft so far as the police are concerned. (Thee of Kaito’s, two for Jii, two for the robot clone.) ‘KID’ should know better, even if Kaito hasn’t actually had the experience. Even if he should have questioned the lack of cops from what he has encountered.

It was a pretty simple trap, Kaito, I can’t defend you on this. (Also, these bubbles are supposed to be swapped. Fluff bubble for the laugh, normal smooth bubble for the comment.)

1) the first spike bubble is supposed to be Kaito’s, and he’s frustrated that he fell for that.

2) I don’t know about other people, but I’m the type who would notice the guy in the white suit on the ceiling. If it’s close enough for Kaito to jump up too, then it’s not tall enough to not see the ceiling even if you’re not looking. I mean, I’m also the type to notice random bugs on the wall that no one else notices, but a full size person in a cape is not as invisible.

I don’t know why people treat the police as an afterthought, this looks pretty intimidating. Just seeing their legs as they walk over to KID knowing he can’t fight back. And all of the troubles he’s going to be facing are prior to any detectives coming to try and deal with the thieving problem.

Also, falling from the ceiling does not sound like fun. (Yet apparently isn’t painful enough to push him past the drug.)

That hood is not on when she’s getting ready to hit, and suddenly it’s shadowing her face when she brings the pain. ( Would she have felt any guilt at all if the spike had managed to break through the doll? Instead of just a sharp hit to the gut. Would she even be aware if she murdered a person via doll? )

Yeah, Nakamori, I’d be pretty confused at to why someone would suddenly be visibly in pain without anything having happened to him. (Unless maybe he things something happened when falling from the ceiling.)

This is basically the same as getting someone to cooperate with you by beating them up and saying you’ll stop if they do what you say. ‘You don’t want me to break your bones? Then give me what I want.’

Have to admit, it’s nice seeing Kaito actually hurt. It happens decently often in early chapters, but when DC hits, it becomes so tame and he’s untouchable. The only redeeming part of chapters 34-36 is that we got these sorts of images of Kaito having trouble again.

Look at all of that blood. (Which is physical evidence that you could definitely take right now. Though I understand that Kid bleeding from nothing would be unnerving.) 

Even if you appreciate the pain, you could wipe your face to that blood doesn’t drip everywhere. Unoless you were hoping someone would follow the blood trail, which I’d love to have seen tbh.

This house looks old as heck and falling apart. I don’t know if that’s what she’d want, staying out of the public eye because of being a witch, but I doubt it helps anything to be so disconnected from the world. No wonder you can only rely on magic, you're not really connected to the world and just treat people as play things. Literally, when you use voodoo dolls.

I do appreciate his gentleman act. Again, he has a lot more patience for this sort of thing than I’d have.

Much as I love this line, this isn’t what he said. What he was saying wasn’t a veiled threat, it was ‘you shouldn’t make fun of your elders/adults’. Which makes more sense if he’s denying that she’s aware of who he is and keeping with the fact KID isn’t supposed to be a teen by insinuating that he’s older and more mature than she is.

Again, an issue here. He’s trying to act more mature, so he’s not yelling at her to give him the doll. It’s more ‘now just give me the doll...’, like he’s talking to a child and trying to coax a toy out of their hand.

(All accounts of ‘black magic’ in the chapter are misleading. Akako is indeed mentioned as having red arts, and every actual time magic is mentioned is just ‘magic’. Nothing to do with the idea of ‘black magic’, because types of magic aren’t synonymous.)

And fun fact for this chapter: This circle is based on the seal of Babalon, a goddess also known as the Scarlet Woman, and women use Babalon to increase their self esteem and gain the attention of men without being under men’s rule. It also explains all the snakes you see with everything Akako is associated with in this chapter.

I’m glad someone finally said it. Though, I wouldn’t have been polite. She’s a spoiled brat, plain and simple, and old enough that her being spoiled is destructive for everyone involved with her.

He gets put through so much pain in this chapter, even if it’s mostly internal.

Ah, seemingly insignificant panel that’s actually showing what’s going to save Kaito.

Would be nice to know how far this was going to go. This heat doesn’t really exist, so I have to wonder if this was going to lead to neverending sort of pain, possible spontaneous combustion, or even if Kaito was actually going to take off his clothes. Because he’s pulling at his tie and probably wanting to more just in this panel.

I really don’t see how anyone could be satisfied winning any hearts through force, for one. (Since it’d be more than clear you had to use coercion and they never really cared and could potentially hate you before hand, and everything would feel fake.) And for two: An observation that the heart says ‘red’.

He actually seemed like he’d eat it. To bad we’ll never know what could have happened if he had. But hey, proof that he’s not the type who’d be able to take much physical torture. ( Since we don’t have more recent chapters for that sort of thing to base how he might act. Old still remains as the one example. )

It’s nice to see their stark contrast in composure. Kaito going through all kinds of things going wrong, including severe pain, and he’s still acting like he has been. But Akako is only ever composed when she has full control over other people, otherwise she’s not okay.

You break her heart Kaito. Good for you. Best you can do, when you wouldn’t ever hit her.

I don’t know how you missed the snow, with how exposed you are, Akako. There might be heat magic going on, but that’s only been shown on Kaito, some of this had to hit you. And if it’s cold enough to snow, Kaito was right, you shouldn’t be out in something that doesn’t cover you much at all.

I like Kaito agreeing with her in this instance, because as a magician, he’d know best that all magic is just deceit and trickery. But it’s not the point of magic to be real, the only point...

...Is to entertain. You’re supposed to make the audience believe magic can be real, but magicians themselves know full well it’s all fake. ( I also have to wonder if he appreciated Akako’s magic being real in this instance, because had he been on his own, his own ‘fake magic’ wouldn’t have helped him when it came to being caught by the police. Akako’s magic being real and her doing voodoo stuff to him is what saves him from falling asleep. Though, speaking of the doll, we never see it after this and there’s no indication if Akako still has it or if Kaito took it. )

The cheating line sounds wrong, since as an English speaker, he should only bring up an ‘actually, you’re cheating’ if Akako had mentioned it. But even in English, they didn’t have her say that.

Also more proof that she needed a better upbringing. She doesn’t know how to get by without using magic at all, and that’s more likely to get her killed in modern day society.

Now I’ll address Kaito. Because it’s not just patience, he sees that Akako has a problem and still wants to help her. Despite the fact that she’s essentially tortured him and tried to make him a slave. He’s constantly shown to be a good judge of character, and it applies even to Akako. It’s a stark contrast to when he does get angry at others, or gets revenge, usually when the motives aren’t just selfish, it’s usually for monetary gain. Akako’s selfishness has only shown that she has a small world view and she feels a need to have control over everything, but she’s had no real motivation shown. And Kaito never asks why she’s doing anything. He remains kind to her when she really hasn’t done anything to earn it. Because she is a spoiled brat, someone who hasn’t been raised right or been shown that what she’s doing is wrong. An ignorant and entitled sort of person, not one who’s intentionally malicious just to hurt people. ( But making people into a tragedy doesn’t mean I’ll like them. She been overall terrible, and it wouldn’t have helped anything if she’d missed what Kaito was trying to say. )

The snakes have been matching her expressions, but I’ll just pick one panel to mention it on.

(I’m not sure how the line is supposed to be taken. I was trying to check the raw, but google is basically saying ‘lose their magic’, which I’m not sure would mean all magic, like some think, or something similar to this where it’s just whatever she’s using at the time. I usually go with the former, but the later would be easier to go through with. Unless you’re emotionally and physically numb, it’s hard to go through life without crying. But who knows, maybe witches have to consciously choose to shed a tear and have control over it.)

Much as I love the anime adaptations, note that Aoko never gives Kaito chocolate. She does seem to have feelings, since it doesn’t mean anything it it’s not Valentine’s day, but wasn’t going to save it for him at any point after, either. Besides, Kaito, you should know it’s not free chocolate day anymore. Aoko only told you it was yesterday, you shouldn’t have expected any more.

I will give props to the anime for giving at least a semi-believable reason why Kaito wouldn’t know what Valentine’s day is. But I also know that that’s looking at it in modern day, and I have to wonder if some time differences are going on. Since Gosho used a lot of his own information when writing Kaito, I wonder if it was something that happened to him while growing up, if Valentine’s day wasn’t quite as major a thing as it had become.

Overall, I heavily dislike Akako in this chapter alone. She does get better, even in just the next chapter. Still manipulative, but not nearly as bad and trying to be Veruca Salt and ‘I want this and I will get it’ with people as she is in this one.

[deadcactuswalking]

REVIEWING THE CHARTS: 11th February 2018

This is one of those episodes that’s going to be kind of slap-dash, I’m not even going to tag this on Tumblr or promote it anywhere else than on Twitter (@cactusinthebank); I just want to get this over with because nothing’s happening this week at all that is of any interest, except the top ten.

Top 10

HOW?! This is the first time on this show that I’ve been so flabbergasted at a song’s success. How is “God’s Plan” by Drake still at the top?! I can’t remember anything from it other than how he nasally says “God’s plan, God’s plan” in the outro. This is so incredibly boring and useless, why is “Diplomatic Immunity” failing? That was a decent track.

In other much better news, our first new top ten entry is “These Days” by Rudimental featuring Jess Glynne, Macklemore and Dan Caplen, which landed nice spaces up at the runner-up spot, which is great because this song is pretty nice to say the least.

”Barking” by Ramz went down a space to number-three. It’s falling, Van’s yawning. However, I have to admire how happy Ramz is. He’s adorable.

”IDGAF” by Dua Lipa stays at number-four.

”River” by Eminem featuring Ed Sheeran has gone down two spaces to number-five, but it might rebound due to that video.

”This is Me” by Keala Settle and The Greatest Showman Ensemble rises two spaces to number-six, and while I like the song, I really do not want a movie soundtrack single to be in the top five.

Cardi B’s remix of “Finesse” by Bruno Mars finally goes up two spaces back to number-seven after losing a lot of his traction.

”Tip Toe” by Jason Derulo featuring French Montana is down two spaces, sadly, to number-eight.

As soon as I praise the song on my best list, “Feel it Still” by Portugal. The Man goes up four spaces to number-nine, becoming our second new top ten entry... finally! It took you about a year.

Oh, and “Never be the Same” by Camila Cabello rebounds by four spots to number-ten to finish off our top ten, but who cares about that trash heap of a single? Let’s get to the climbers.

Climbers

Nothing’s happened. No, I’m serious, nothing’s happened. Okay, maybe “Fine Line” by Mabel featuring Not3s rose five spaces from #22 to #17, and maybe Justin Timberlake’s album gave a nine-space boost to “Say Something” featuring Chris Stapleton up to #24, as well as Kendrick Lamar and SZA having the same treatment with “All the Stars” at #28, but other than that and “For You (Fifty Shades Freed)” by Liam Payne and Rita Ora rising five spots to #18, there’s nothing interesting to see here.

Fallers

Fallers are a different story, however, with some absolutely massive drops for earlier January hits and late 2017 hits. “I Know You” by Craig David and Bastille, as well as “I Miss You” by Clean Bandit and Julia Michaels, took a seven-space fall to #12 and a whopping 19-space leap to #31, respectively.  “Let You Down” was let down hard, falling 20 spaces to #35. “17” by MK also barely holds on, zooming down 21 spaces to #38. Also, normally, I wouldn’t talk about “Perfect” by Ed Sheeran dropping down one space to #19 as it doesn’t deserve any more attention, but BBC lists the duet version still and the official UK Chart Company lists the solo version. Just thought I’d talk about that.

Dropouts

“Walk It Talk It” by Migos featuring Drake drops out from #31, as it should, due to the streaming numbers falling after the initial release. “Game Changer” by MIST has dropped out from #35 after the debut, and “Diplomatic Immunity” by Drakegrassi has sadly dropped out from #36. Other dropouts include “Let Me Down” by Jorja Smith featuring Stormzy and “Dimelo” by Rak-Su featuring Naughty Boy and Wyclef Jean from #39 and #40 respectively.

Returning Entries

For the first time ever on this show, we have a returning entry, and that is Justin Timberlake’s “Filthy” at #34 thanks to the album. No, it does not work in the context of the album at all, and honestly, all it’s done is make it even more jarring. I still hate this song with a passion and I think I always will. It’s just so Timber-lame, as was that pun. Let’s move on to the new arrivals.

NEW ARRIVALS

#39 – “Let Me Go” – Hailee Steinfeld and Alesso featuring Florida Georgia Line and Watt

This took so long to chart here, and it’s no surprise, since it’s just a bunch of unrecognisable B-listers making a boring pop song with nothing of interest to talk about. I know I’ve been saying everything is boring, but it really is with this song and the charts right now. Hailee sounds okay over the fake finger-snaps, but the switch to the chorus is very jarring and took me off guard. The drop sounds very empty as well, maybe Watt could clear up some of the synth with a guitar solo? Of course not, it’s a pop song, I’m kidding myself. Florida Georgia Line are tolerable but I don’t understand why they’re here at all. The lyrics are generic, and it’s just one of the most uninteresting songs I’ve reviewed on this show. But don’t mistake, Drake takes the cake for that accolade, definitely. This is just boring. Really boring.

#33 – “Check” – Kojo Funds featuring RAYE

I wasn’t expecting a seductive Latin guitar to start a Kojo Funds song, but it really fits and I dig it plenty, especially with the soft bubbling mix of dancehall and trap percussion. It’s too bad that RAYE sounds God-awful, and Kojo Funds is just hilariously pathetic, with his corny lines about RAYE being “his Nintendo”. For God’s sake, specify, dude! His ad-libs are also very awkward, to the point where he’s crooning “ooh, wee” in the pre-chorus. Lest we forget this song is seemingly about Kojo allowing a gold digger to engage in sexual and romantic activities with him if she allows him to smoke marijuana. I’m not mad, just disappointed.

#27 – “Jumanji” – B Young

More Latin guitar intros for autotuned faux-reggae, I see. At least the last one lead to more than twinkling synth leads that sound like a music box, which is very unfitting when the song’s about B Young (terrible stage name) putting a big-booty girl’s body through the testing and fling-flinging off them panties. The main metaphor of this song is also very flawed. Why would anyone, let alone your peng ting called Ashanti, want to live life like Jumanji? She wants to take risks and chances like a board game, but why specifically Jumanji? Does she want to die? Because I sure do after listening to this song. Yikes.

#15 – “Pray for Me” – Kendrick Lamar featuring The Weeknd

Finally, the big debut of the week, “Pray for Me”, the next single off the underwhelming Black Panther soundtrack, and I’d be lying if I said this wasn’t anything but cheap and boring. The Weeknd sounds rather stiff on a beat that wouldn’t sound out of place on the super-deluxe version of Humanz – yes, it’s that cheap-sounding. The beat hardly develops during the chorus, just adding a few incredibly ineffective strings and backing vocals that do not interest or excite me at all, they just add more to the bore that is this song. Not even Kendrick can save this song with a killer verse, no, he just provides an uninteresting verse that doesn’t show off his skill or talent as well as it could have. Also, the choir vocalising during the bridge is grating. If you want a good song from that soundtrack, check out “Paramedic!” featuring SOBxRBE. Now that’s a banger! Oh, yeah, this song is just sleep-inducing. Nice try, but this warrants nothing more than a ‘good effort’ badge from me.

Conclusion

Hot take: Kendrick Lamar is starting to tire me, and is becoming oversaturated on the charts, however, it will not change since I predict some changes in the charts to come next week off the soundtrack release by Kendrick Lamar, featuring all his labelmates at Top Dawg Entertainment. This week, however, was such a non-entity that I don’t think any of these songs deserve anything that would give them a title, even if it were negative. These songs are on the edge of non-existence, they’re so forgettable. See you next week for the next episode, and see you in a few days’ time for the worst list. Goodbye.

[chocolateorbs]

Project 03 Research

What is a logo

Logos are the ‘mark’ of a company’s territory.

What a logo does

Logos identify a company, the advertisement, and the products and services the company sells. Logos also support a company’s brand. A logo can be a consumer’s first impression of a company. It is something that will persuade them to choose one business over another. When shopping, most people will pay more money for a brand that they think is a better quality or more well-known. This has been proven many times and people are essentially paying for the logo/brand. (i.e. designer handbags, people are buying the bags for the LV or MK)

If people don’t love a brand, then they obviously wouldn’t support it. People value brands and the logos that identify them. Nike is a very popular brand, and most people wouldn’t find it too difficult to identify their corresponding ‘swoosh’ logo. If people see a product with a logo they don’t recognize, chances are, the more they see it, the more likely they’ll look into it themselves. Logos are symbolic symbols, and unlike iconic or indexical signs, they must be learned.

“Semiotics is a key link to consumer behavior because consumers use products to express their social identities. Products carry learned meanings, and we rely on marketers to help us figure out what those meanings are. As one set of researchers put it, “Advertising serves as a kind of culture/consumption dictionary; its entries are products, and their definitions are cultural meanings.

From a semiotic perspective, every marketing message has three basic components: an object, a sign (or symbol), and an interpretant. The object is the product that is the focus of the message (e.g., Marlboro cigarettes). The sign is the sensory image that represents the intended meanings of the object (e.g., the Marlboro cowboy). The interpretant is the meaning we derive from the sign (e.g., rugged, individualistic, American). (Solomon, 98).

Click here for article on how Nike achieved popular global success.

Moving forward with Nike, the symbol represents motion and speed and the arc alone represents movement. The name Nike comes from a winged (associates to flight, speed, and victory) Greek goddess of victory whose name was Nike. Those who wear the product of the company are meant to feel confident in victory and powerful. Therefore, the easily recognizable logo of the “swoosh” is the best mark to represent Nike. Click here for link to Nike meaning.

Types of Logos

There are three types of logos: logotypes, which is text only (e.g., Coca Cola)

Logo marks, which consists of graphics only (e.g., Snapchat, Apple, Starbucks)

Logos such as Starbucks have been redesigned without words because the logo itself has become so distinguishable across the globe. This helps with the translation of international logos.

And a combination of both type and graphic (e.g., BMW, LG).

What a logo needs to do

At some point, I’m sure most of us (if not all) have downloaded the Logo Quiz games, that are trivia-based and challenge us to see if we can identify certain logos. These games are addictive, yet informative. Informative in the sense that, logos are impactful. Besides being legible and adaptable to fit a company’s materials, a successful logo has the ability to literally imprint to memory: to be unforgettable.

4 Principles of the ARMM Model

A = Attention ; R = Response ; M = Meaning ; M = Memorable

Click here for an intro to the ARMM Model.

In my Consumer Behavior class, I learned that the characteristics of the stimulus play a fundamental role in determining what we notice and what we ignore. Designers need to understand these factors so they can create logos that will have a better chance to cut through the clutter. A logo creates contrast in several ways: size, color, and position.

Size

A logo has to work well in all sizes. A logo design has to be easily manipulated. It needs to be on the letterhead, business cards, on a website, on a billboard, products, and even on company cars. A logo has to be simple, because when scaled up or down they have to work on any medium and size.

“When printed in small sizes, a complex design will lose detail and in some cases will look like a smudge or, worse, a mistake. The more detail a logo has, the more information the viewer has to process. A logo should be memorable, and one of the best ways to make it memorable is to keep things simple. Look at the corporate identities of Nike, McDonald’s and Apple. Each company has a very simple icon that can easily be reproduced at any size.”

Click here for 10 common mistakes in logo design.

Color

Logos must also reproduce well in color and B/W. Color plays a fundamental role in logo design. Colors follow a guide that can evoke a certain reaction from a person. Take yellow and red, for example. Yellow translates to optimism, clarity, and warmth, while red translates excitement. McDonalds, Sonic, Burger King, etc., all use yellow because it not only triggers these emotions, but because the color can also be seen from a far distance. Red triggers stimulation, appetite, and hunger, but also attracts attention. When combined together, both colors translate speed, quickness—hence ‘fast food’.  

Click here for psychological properties of color.

Looking at it this way, color establishes identity. In the field of marketing and advertising, brand identity is the visual essence of a business or organization. Visual identity is mostly correlated with color through symbols. When we think of twitter, we see the color blue. Color identity can be used both ways. We either think of a brand, and visualize that corresponding color in our minds, or we see a color, and closely associate it with a specific brand.

Moving forward with Twitter, I found an informative site on why so many social media platform sites use the color blue. Click here for the link. The website states that when people think of the color blue, the feelings most associated with it are credibility, focused, professional, and trustworthy. Of course these feelings would spark interest in social media marketing.

It’s also being currently researched that blue light promotes alertness. (click here for article) This would then cause people to have trouble sleeping.

“Have you ever found yourself mindlessly browsing through Twitter or Facebook, not noticing the time go by? And then when you do notice and shut your phone, it still takes you a little while to fall asleep? This might be due to the fact that you exposed your eyes to blue light, thus causing your brain to stay more alert and awake.”

The more time spent on Facebook or Twitter, the more likely it is for someone to view a video or click on a link that adds another dollar to these platforms’ revenue.

Position

Advertisers can increase brand recall and choice if they change the location of a brand logo across ad exposures. Logos that are located in the center of a person’s field of vision are more likely to make it to the second stage of perception, which is the attention stage. If a logo receives enough attention, it has the power to attach itself to a consumer’s memory.

Reference to text: Solomon, Michael R. (2017), Consumer Behavior: Buying, Having, and Being, 12th edition, Upper Saddle River, New Jersey: Prentice Hall.

 Changes in Logo

However, it’s important to also note that when a brand tries to alter, or modernize its logo, it has to walk a fine line because consumers tend to get tired of old-fashioned designs, but they still want to be able to identify the familiar product.

Especially with well-known companies and logos, a logo must fit the current personality of the company without having consumers feel like they lost their connection to the brand. When you think of a company, you usually picture its logo first. Change is noticeable with apps, as icons on our phones change with application updates. Take the Instagram logo, for example. It used to look like a vintage camera, and then it drastically changed into a simplified, gradient-based outline of a camera.

“The simpler design puts more focus on your photos and videos without changing how you navigate the app,” the company said. “Our updated look reflects how vibrant and diverse your storytelling has become.”

Click here for NY Times article on ‘The Great Instagram Logo Freakout of 2016′.

Or Gap, for instance.

Current and attempted new GAP logo:

A great example of logo modernizing is the evolution of the Pepsi label and FedEx’s logo over time.

Can logos bias our decisions?

“A study of the influence of company logos found that, when respondents were exposed to a brief flash of either an Apple or an IBM logo on a screen, their behavior changed even though they weren’t even aware they had seen the logo., whereas they link tradition, intelligence, and responsibility with IBM.55 Sure enough, those who saw the Apple logo subsequently provided more creative and innovative responses on a task than those who saw the IBM logo. Researchers continue to identify factors that bias our decisions, and many of these are factors that operate beneath the level of conscious awareness.” (Solomon, 331).

Click here for article on importance of logo.

Additional Logo Information via Video:

Top Ten Business Logos (according to Mojo.com)

Top 10 Logos Then & Now

[recordofmyreverie]

Tuvan Throat-Singing and Finding My Own Voice Too (February 2017)

Back in January, I noticed on Facebook that there was an event being held at The Evening Muse in Charlotte that was going to be showcasing the incredible talents of a throat-singing band called Alash. I was already drawn to the event because I used to watch videos of this kind of singing on Youtube with RN and his friend group, and we all were mesmerized at how it was even humanly possible for the voice to be capable of that. I was even more drawn to the event because of the date that it fell on: February 22nd. 

As stated in a previous post, the number 22 kept reappearing in my life, and I attributed a new importance to it. Multiples of 11 seemed to be really lucky for me, but 22 especially was showing up everywhere I looked. Every time I would see this number now, I knew that it was something I needed. I knew something important would happen every 22nd of the month. Even if it was all a placebo, and in my own control, I still wanted the number 22 to mean something. 

The holders of a master number 22 have the highest chance to turn their dreams into reality, they are efficient and can handle large projects.

Considered to be the most influential number of all, it can give deep spiritual understanding, facilitating the appliance of knowledge in a practical way, which will eventually lead to success. The master number 22 is considered to serve the word in a practical way.

If you’re interested in learning more about this number, check out this link 

During this time of year, I was getting so fed up with working at Toast. I was being pushed too hard to simply stay afloat. I didn’t like that my boss had hired people that made my job harder than it should be or that I knew more than my boss about the restaurant since I’d been there much longer. I was tired of having to drive through an hour of traffic just to get there and have to work my ass off to share the money that I earned with certain people who didn’t put in as much work as I did, when I could be working at the one that was 10 minutes away from my house. I was tired of coming home and feeling depressed because I wouldn’t speak up about this. I was just letting the job drain me. 

I enjoyed most of the people I worked with, and I loved the customers, so I let that motivate me to stay. It wasn’t enough, though. For two weekends in a row, I got hurt because my boss put too much pressure on me and would seat my section up to 5 tables at a time. I told him to slow down because I was only one person and that there needed to be an actual rotation rather than complete chaos when it came to seating, and he didn’t listen. He was just focused on getting everyone seated and then it didn’t matter where he sat them or when. 

He didn’t understand that no matter how good of a worker I was, I was still human, and I wasn’t invincible like he thought I should be. One weekend, I had to spend 20 minutes in the freezer to cool myself down because I was so hot and mad. My boss gave me the busiest section, and I’d been paired with my least favorite coworker who was always absent from our section and usually talking about himself to other tables. 

That day, I had been late to work. It was the third time that week. Each time I was late, it was only about 15 minutes, and it was because he’d given me no motivation to want to show up to work because I knew I’d be working with the arrogant one who did no work. He’d also only schedule me closing shifts which started at 8 AM and were at the peak of morning traffic when I lived 45 minutes away. So yeah, it was a little hard to get to work on time. 

My coworker didn’t know his job. He lied about everything. He was always late despite being 5 minutes walking distance from work and even buying a moped later. But he was best friends and a total kiss-ass to my boss. Those were the ingredients to his success. I wanted to tear him to pieces. 

I was so hot one weekend from having to run all over the restaurant and serve an entire section of about 20 tables by myself, that I decided it was my turn to disappear. I broke down. I was so freaking mad. Why were they doing this to me? Why was I letting them? 

On top of all the chaos, my boss took me to the back to say that I was now being suspended for being late for the third time in a row. That’s when I broke down. I was being punished even despite all the work I had put into being there. Even despite making it so freaking easy for people that didn’t know their own jobs like him and my coworker that he hired. I felt disrespected, and felt my treatment was unfair since he wasn’t going to do the same to my coworker who repeatedly showed up late every single day and would sometimes show up 2 HOURS late. He’d let him slide every time like the greasy worm he was. 

I told my boss in the office that I didn’t care that I was being suspended. It wasn’t a punishment to me because maybe I should just quit anyways because I was miserable working there. I had something so good for a while after MK left. I’d come such a long way and worked my way to the top. I trained almost the entire restaurant by myself. I thought about quitting right there in that moment, but my boss started crying himself. 

He said that he would hate it if I left because I was such a good worker, and that everyone looked up to me. He said that if I left, they would struggle to even be the same restaurant anymore because so many regulars came there just to see me. He knew that his job would be on the line if I quit. He said he wouldn’t want me to quit without another job lined up, but if I found something else, then more power to me, but if I just left that day there wouldn’t have been any respect in my decision. 

One weekends after that, I’d fell and bruised my knee during a shift because he was pushing me to go too fast and I was trying to move too fast. The next weekend, I spilled boiling hot water on my foot and got a second-degree burn from it. It was also because he was pushing me too fast. 

When it happened, I remember pushing the doors into the kitchen with a bang. I hobbled to the office where the first-aid kit was, and I quickly tried to open the burn-gel. My boss still wouldn’t take blame, and tried to blame one of the other servers saying that his clumsiness knocked over the mug and caused my injury. There was nobody to blame except myself and my boss for giving me the stress.

My boss was more worried about if I’d be able to return to work that day than he was about worker’s compensation for injury. He knew that they’d struggle if they had one less person, and especially one less person who knew her job and did her job fast and accurate. 

My foot was so hot and red. It was swollen. It tingled with pain anytime I even touched it. It was bandaged where the hot liquid poured directly, so I couldn’t see the blisters yet, but I knew that they’d be there. My boss told me I could sit there and wait until I could walk again to get back to work, but I knew that if I agreed to get up again, he wouldn’t hold off at all. He’d still over-seat me. I told him to clock me out, and I limped to my car to drive home. He was so disappointed. 

The very next day, I was out to get an oil change and get my brakes repaired from all the driving. I was walking around downtown Fort Mill to pass the time, and looking for a new job. 

I needed a change of environment that wasn’t so negative. There were people I could absolutely not stand over there, and I needed to get out of that. I’d given Toast over two years of my life, learned all I could from it, did the best I could be, helped other people become the best they could be, and met a lot of wonderful people. It was time to move on. 

The first job that I applied to was an Irish Pub. At the time I applied, there was a girl from another Toast, the one that was close to my house. She was applying at the pub too for a second job. She was shocked that I wanted to leave Toast because it was such good money and a great environment, for her anyway. She was trying to convince me to stay with the company and said I would regret leaving, but I already had my mind made up. I’d been wanting to quit for months. This was not just some spur of the moment decision. I was putting it off for long enough.

That day, I shook hands with the manager and accepted a job. I couldn’t believe that it was so easy for me to find another job, and I wondered why I didn’t do it sooner. 

When I went to back to work the next shift I was scheduled, the first thing my boss said to me was “We got our asses kicked without you on Sunday. I see you’re walking fine though. You definitely could have worked. I saw you walking yesterday.”

Asshole.

I saved the bad news for the end of the day, and smiled, “Yep, my foot is fine today. It’s because I got some rest and took care of the injury when I got home instead of over-working myself and making it worse that day.”

I went back to work with a smile and a giddy attitude the rest of the day. I was so excited to tell him that I was quitting, but I knew that if I was going to say it in the beginning, he’d definitely treat me worse.

A girl that I worked with, Nicole, had told him that she was going to be transferring to the new Rock Hill location along with two other employees that worked there. He thought he was going to just be losing two, and didn’t expect her to leave, but he pushed her to wanting to leave because she also thought that he was ridiculous as a manager. We all thought that except the one that he’d hired himself. Ever since she told him that, he’d been so passive-aggressive and rude to her. He even would go as far as to tell her to hurry up and clock out at the end of the day because he didn’t like even seeing her anymore. He took things that were just business so personally.

After a day’s work and mopping the floor, I put away the mop, and I said “I’m giving you my two-week’s notice. I found another job.”

All he could say was “Congratulations.”

The following night, I met up with an old/new friend, RN. I invited him to come out and see the Tuvan throat singing band called Alash with me, since I knew he wouldn’t want to miss out on this once-in-a-lifetime spectacle. We’d reconnected a couple weeks earlier at Starbucks and had a well-needed chat about each other’s well-being and progress.

I showed him all the photos that he’d missed since we broke up and told him about all the crazy things that had happened in the span that we’d been absent from each other. He told me that he’d also moved back into his parents’ house, quit his job, and got a new car. He was interviewing for jobs and trying to get out of his parents’ house again, but wanted to live by himself. 

He said that recent events and losing so much really opened his eyes to how much he needed to live healthier and make a positive change in his life. He wasn’t partying anymore, and only spent time out with his friends one on one these days, and reading at home alone most nights. He admitted he was still stressed out, but that he felt more peaceful than he had been feeling in a while.

It was nice to catch up with him and to see that he was doing well and on a path of progress. I was proud of him. We agreed that we missed each other’s friendship, and that maybe that’s all we should have been in the beginning. Maybe we were just too enthusiastic and excited about each other at the time, and that’s why it turned into something more, but we weren’t meant for each other romantically. We were more just meant as support for each other during the rough times of our lives. 

At the show, I told him that I’d quit my job at Toast finally after months of complaining. He was happy for me. We watched the throat-singing together and were both so amazed that we each brought home a CD. Well, he bought one, and then burnt a copy for me to listen to. I traded him a book that I thought he might want to read. It was the one that a stranger gifted to me on the bus to DC. The Doors of Perception by Aldous Huxley.

I was glad to have experienced such a cool show with someone who I knew would truly appreciate it. And I was glad that we could turn something that didn’t work out romantically into a new friendship. We were the same people, but different.

[angstandhappiness]

INTERESTING

OP's tags @imminent-danger-came: #aka he is a Destiny defying boy#or he is doomed by Destiny...#somehow he is both#I'm almost feeling like he's a chessmaster in a sense.#'Just a piece in a game you can not possible comprehend' oh but he's the one who plans#He's a piece and a chessmaster...at the same time!#Hmmm. Or maybe we're goin' the Azure route#You know#being too oblivious in your own delusion to realize that you're a mere piece in someone else's game#BUT. I feel like some folk can be on the receiving end of this but from MK.#Like. In a sense....LBD was a mere piece in MK's game...you know what I'm saying?#It's late and I'm a bit unhinged but that's okay#Leethee will understand me perfectly#game motif#lmk rant#lmk speculation

@241cookies: #again#PLEAAASE CHECK THE ORIGINAL POST#the tags are brilliant lore fuel

@imminent-danger-came: #NOT KICKING THE CAN DOWN THE OL' HALF MARATHON#thank you for the food leethee#this fine line MK walks is so interesting because like#in 1x05 he isn't even tempted by the 'perfect' world#Like not even a little bit. He likes that his friends have their flaws/quirks. He likes them for who they are#But he also like....can't cope with how flawed the world is???#Like he knows that his friend's are good people. But he can't deal with/straight up ignores SWK not being a good person in the past#He can't cope with his own tragic role of hurting people#I am like. Hmmm!#Once again MK see's the strengths and individual characteristics of his friends (like different chess pieces)#But he hates being the chessmaster#But his friends can also be like ''Hell yeah MK move us around in a way that'll let us win''#I need to learn how to play xiangqi apparently#Which. After googling it that is definitely the piece Tang threw at MK at the beginning of 2x07#Oh. Oh noooooooooooooooooooooooo#Wait isn't MK's name in Chinese literally Qí Xiǎotiān#Qí Xiǎotiān. Xiàngqí. Someone who knows more about the Chinese language than I is there a connection#I believe Qí Xiǎotiān is some variant of "little heaven''

@fluffypotatey: #oh dam 🫠#guve me a sec I’m on the road I will be back

@spoofyleaf: #super interesting#got me thinking#and I’d like to stop thinking /j

@ideas-of-immortality: #bruh those tags?????#hnnnnngggg#MKKKKKKKKKK

@solarartzz: #YOU CANT DO THIS TO ME

@its-leethee: #i just have to look at them next to each other. this brilliant game of tag we're all playing together @imminent-danger-came @fluffypotatey#lego monkie kid#also asked my partner. xiàngqí means elephant (xiàn 象) chess (qí 棋). there's a piece called elephant (& horse and soldiers etc)#father in law tried to teach me and kiddos to play and we are still terrible at it#小天 xiăo tiān little heaven and it's a play from “great sage equal to heaven” qítiān (w heaven/sky) dàshèng (big holy) (齊天大聖)#but my partner speaks cantonese and my mandarin is barely past “túshū guăn zàinăli” so i'm just white girl googling from here#forbidden op lore

@fluffypotatey: #i am swimming in a pool of my own insanity

You know also just realized that MK is the "Plan Man" and Destiny has been explicitly stated as "having plans" (great or foul), like MK is Destiny or could go toe to toe with Destiny, depending on whether or not their plans converge or differ.