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ninja-knox-ur-sox-off · 8 months

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Wassup folks I was having thoughts about Macaque and ended up writing a ficlet using said scattered thoughts about his character. enjoy o7

Wordcount: 2k

Macaque wasn’t a very complicated person. If anything, he thought himself rather simple.

He liked what he liked, and he didn’t like what he didn’t like. He wanted three main things, and couldn’t imagine wanting anything more.

Macaque wanted food.

More specifically, he wanted fruit. He loved fruit. Having food was an important part of being happy. He knew well that being happy without food in your stomach was a difficult thing. He was especially fond of the sweetness and tartness fruits would give him. He loved to eat it, loved to find the best crab-apples, plums, apricots, tangerines, and peaches, to pick them out one by one and triumphantly show them off before peeling them or shoving them directly into his mouth. He didn’t mind digging for melons that were hiding under leaves, or hunting for sugar-cane and peeling off the outer layer with his teeth for the sweet bits inside, or climbing high up to get coconuts and smash them onto rocks to open them up. Shi Hou had smashed a coconut on his own head once, splitting it in half and getting the milk inside in his fur. “Like a rock, see?” he had declared proudly. Macaque remembered hiding his face in his arm to disguise his laugh.

2. Macaque wanted the sun.

Contrary to what a lot of humans, and even sometimes other creatures assumed, one of Macaque’s favorite things to do was nap in the sun. His fur was dark, his natural form of magic gravitated towards things like shadows and places under rocks no one could see, so many assumed he would prefer to spend his time in dark places and away from light. Macaque rather thought the opposite. He believed his affinity to shadows and dark cold places were the very thing that drove him into the sun to shake that uncomfortable chill from his bones and feel soft sweet sunlight on his skin. He loved nothing more than a nap in the soft grass with a light breeze, his stomach full of fruit and the gentle warmth of the sun touching his face and soaking into his fur. The only time he enjoyed shade falling over his face was when he looked up to find another source of light beaming down at him with the promise of mischief in its eyes. 3. (And rather most importantly,) Macaque wanted his friend.

His best friend. His only friend really; Shi Hou, later named Sun Wukong. Without him, the fruit was less sweet, the sunlight was cooler, and Macaque was sure he would be less happy. Before, Shi Hou, fruit and the sun had been enough, but after knowing him, being near him, and following him into all sorts of fun and chaos, Macaque couldn’t imagine being happy without him. He was a second sun, a light in all the shadows and dark places Macaque used to hide. He was his best and only friend, the person Macaque would pick out of hundreds to spend time with. The only one who could drag him out of his solitude to be with the other monkeys and join in on the fun. Sun Wukong was his person, and it made him happy to know it was just the two of them against the world.

Until it wasn’t.

Intruding on his happiness came demons, celestials, and every other groveling insect that crawled out of the bush to beg for his friends' time as Sun Wukong started to seek more power. It was fine at first, he made time for Macaque. The extra power felt nice, the reputation he started to build meant no one bothered them. He was gone now and again for increasing periods of time, but most of the time Macaque was with him, and he always came back so it didn’t matter.

(Until it did. Until he was gone for years.)

It was fine until those three joined the brotherhood: Azure Lion, Golden Peng, Yellow-Tusk... They pushed their way in and sat at the table, taking up space and Sun Wukong’s attention. But that wasn’t what really annoyed Macaque. Shi Hou always made time for him, always listened when he spoke, which wasn’t often around the brotherhood. No, what annoyed Macaque the most was the wars they spoke of. The battles they laughed about, the glory they spoke of to Sun Wukong until his eyes seemed to sparkle, something a little ugly underneath the awe; want, but not the good kind. What annoyed Macaque was how enamored Wukong was by it all. Rebellion, they spoke of. Pushed forward by bravado, Wukong left and came back with stories that made Macaque’s hands curl into tight fists and his fur stand on end. Talk of challenging even the Jade Emperor.

Isn’t this enough? Macaque thought again and again. Isn’t the fruit and the sun and me and you enough? We’re immortal now, isn’t this enough? But Sun Wukong was not Macaque. He was never satisfied once he’d seen the other side, once he’d had a taste of heavenly wine, once he’d sunk his teeth into the flesh of immortal stonefruit with juices sweeter than honey, nothing in the mortal world could compare. The peaches Macaque picked for him would never be enough. Macaque would never be enough next to Celestials and people who would never see Sun Wukong like Macaque did. He wanted a bigger title, sweeter fruit, “a better way of life,” he said, “for both of us.”

Sun Wukong slipped a celestial peach into Macaque’s hands and he could do nothing but stare at it and wonder how what they had wasn’t enough for him.

“I’ve seen things,” Sun Wukong said to him one night, the rest of the brotherhood passed out at the table. “The world is so much bigger than this, Lui’er. They laughed at me--at us.”

“Why does it matter what they think?” Macaque had asked.

Sun Wukong stayed silent.

Macaque closed his eyes and tried not to think about how his friend felt more and more distant on nights like these. He tried not to think about his own hand in pushing him to this place.

After everything, the brotherhood disbanded easily. The nights spent in camaraderie, the talk of glory, the hands on Sun Wukong’s shoulder and pushing him to the forefront of the chaos, praising him as a leader and their King meant nothing the moment he was under the mountain. They scattered like dust in the wind and, as it was in the beginning, Macaque was the only one left.

Sun Wukong was angry. After the initial I-told-you-so that resulted in Sun Wukong screaming at him, Macaque didn’t say much. He tried to keep his visits light. He tried to bring him things, tried to keep him company, but his old friend would accept none of it, his hands clenched, his eyes alight with boiling, barely contained rage and hate. It wasn’t directed at Macaque, but he still sat a distance away. He understood why so many feared him, but Macaque never had. It felt unnatural.

Sun Wukong had plenty to say on his own, filling the silence and Macaque’s six ears with threats of vengeance and violence that made him turn away and want desperately to press his hands over his ears or stick his head into the waterfall back home so the seething sounds of Sun Wukong's anger could be drowned out.

Secretly, privately, quietly, a small part of Macaque was glad for the chains and the mountain that held him down. He hoped it would be enough to calm his friends' anger and allow him time to cool down, time to think and see that there were more important things than power, that it didn’t matter what others thought of them so long as they had fruit, the sun and each other. But to his disappointment, nothing changed. No matter how many days passed, Sun Wukong’s rage remained, simmering and hot. It got quieter. Less threats and more growling and silently glowering until Macaque was sure he’d burn a hole right through the chains that held him captive with his glare alone.

Inevitably, eventually Sun Wukong directed his anger towards the only available target; his best friend and the one person who hadn’t abandoned him the moment he’d lost everything. The one person who came to check on him and visit in the place with no sunshine where the chill would cling to bone even hours after exiting.

Macaque took it for a long while. He understood there was nothing for him to do but rage and snap and insult. He understood the bitterness. Or at least he thought he did. He’d let him rage at him and blame him for it all, being trapped, being useless. He let him call him things and lash out at him even though it hurt because he thought it might make it better. He’d take it until his hands shook and he’d have to exhale to steady himself and leave through a portal, Sun Wukong yelling obscenities behind him. He’d always come back and act like nothing happened until Sun Wukong started all over and Macaque would sit until he couldn’t take anymore, leave and then come back later and repeat the process all over again.

But even a stone wore down eventually, and Macaque was far from as firm and unyielding as stone. His friend’s words chipped away at him little by little until he snapped back, angry at him for not opening his eyes and seeing where they were, why they were there in the first place. Furious at him for being angry at everyone and everything but himself, the real reason he was chained under a mountain and uselessly screaming threats at the cavern as if the echos would carry into the Celestial Court. He was angry at him for looking at Macaque and deciding he wasn’t enough.

“I did it for YOU--for US!” Sun Wukong roared at him.

And maybe it had started that way. Maybe it had been for him once. For them. Or maybe Macaque had turned a blind eye to the lies that had always been there. Maybe Sun Wukong had always been self-centred and selfish and Macaque was too stupid to see it.

He snapped back, because Sun Wukong was trapped, he was trapped and so he would sit and he would listen. He would hear every word he’d ignored, every warning Macaque had tried to give him, every accusation and hurt Macaque felt, he would hear it all and he would listen.

Macaque called him a demon. Like so many others before, every Celestial and human they’d come into contact with, he called him a demon. But unlike the others, Sun Wukong didn’t stretch his shoulder and let it roll off his back. Instead, his jaw dropped. His eyes widened. He reacted in a way Macaque had never seen him before. He saw him react and all he could think was ‘good.’

It was all a bit of a blur after. He couldn’t remember a lot of what he said. He stumbled and leaned against a tree. His hands were shaking, his arms were trembling. His feet were unsteady under him. They’d never fought like that before. A lot of it was a blur but Sun Wukong's last words, banishing him from returning ran clear in his ears. And that alone made him bitter enough to close his shadow portal and decide then and there he was never going back.

Macaque had only ever wanted three things, but now? He didn’t know what he wanted.

A lot happened after that. Bad things. Things he would rather not remember, but one thing was certain. The Six-Eared Macaque as he was, without the Monkey King was vulnerable. He was weak. He was all alone and many preyed on him simply for his association with the Great Sage Equal to Heaven.

So Macaque did all he could think of to do.

He built up a wall, a persona of sorts. He needed to become someone else, someone they couldn’t hurt so easily. He needed to become loud rather than quiet, brash rather than nervous, scary rather than soft. He needed to become someone no one would mess with or dare linger around. He needed to become someone powerful enough to say no. Someone who didn’t want things as stupid and simple as naps in the sun and sweet fruit handpicked from trees and being around friends. He needed to become someone who didn’t care.

But who could he mirror? Who’s confidence and brashness could he channel? Who’s lack of care for the people around them could he mimic and hold close and make himself believe he felt? Who’s personality could he take and warp into what he remembered, vicious and hurtful and power hungry? Who’s weapon could he replicate and clench in his hand when he felt an inkling of care for people who wouldn’t care for him when it really counted? Who could he mimic to become someone else who didn’t want simple things like holding hands with a best friend and picking fruit until they smiled?

Why Sun Wukong of course.

The most selfish person he knew.

(note: please don't slander sun wukong in the notes Macaque's opinions do not reflect the my own regarding the great sage equaling heaven-- hGLS;KJFD)

#KNOX WRITES (me)#Six Eared Macaque Monkie Kid #Monkie Kid Macaque #Macaque Monkie kid #Fic #Monkie kid fic #I really gotta figure out how i want to tag things my gosh *wheezing*#Monkie kid #lego monkie kid #fr tho its interesting how macaque isnt' that complicated of a guy #he plays at being deep and dark and complicated but he's actually just so freaking simple?#i THINK THE MONKEYS ARE NEAT OKAY #also i just really adore them as ex close best friends #extremely close bff's who know each other better than anyone but don't lean into familial or romantic categories my beloved #seriously tho i need me some backstory #we don't even know if Wukong actually killed him in this or not #he doesnt' seem suprrised to see him like he is Azure who he ACTUALLY put into the underworld #SAYS SO HIMSELF #NEVER SAYS THAT ABOUT MACAQUE #I'M SO CURIOUS HECK #if any jttw media spinoff or whatever would have wukong nOT kill macaque outright it'd be monkie kid #anyway heck i'ma just post this before i change my mind #NO BETA WE DIE LIKE LBD #confession time: i don't remember half of what i wrote here so pls have mercy #monkie kid fanfiction #should i post these tiny blurbs to ao3??#never bothered to do it before [shrugs]

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comradekatara · 1 year

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zukka fans boil your rocks

#id in alt text #avatar the last airbender #atla #sokka #zuko #sokkaxzuko #sorry guys i had a dream that i made this and i have an obligation to follow my dreams so.#zukka shippers annoyed me so much that i had to like. swear off them entirely #like when ur eating smth that u love but then it gives u food poisoning so u can never eat it again #but then slowly u work ur way into accepting into ur diet again #like. their dynamic is so funny #just objectively hilarious #sokka is the only person in the world who is like 'aww zuko is so nice and earnest and well-meaning and submissive'#unaware that its bc he effortlessly domesticated zuko by being hot and cool #meanwhile zuko is feral w literally everyone else just gnashing his teeth and snarling and growling and biting #katara is like the only other person who comes close to domesticating him #like he'll yell at her but he'll hug her #notice how he only cares abt winning her over AFTER he befriends sokka tho #he's like 'oh no that's sokka's sister better make sure i'm on her good side'#he doesnt even care that he & katara are themtically fated narrative foils for him it's all abt impressing his crush's family #fucking idiot.

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uncanny-tranny · 5 months

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Something kind of funny I never anticipated about crocheting with longer hair was pulling out a piece of my own hair out of my project that I somehow crocheted into it

#art #fiber art #crochet #most likely that strand fell out mid-stitch and i just... crocheted it in #love in every stitch? no. HAIR in every stitch #also i'm watching a video about knitting (war-time knitting specifically) and it's sparking memories #i forgot the sheer effort that was getting women to knit for soldiers (understandably because i wasn't alive during those wars but still)#molly was my favourite american girl book and i think that's where i first learned about that as a kid????#but those books weren't mine they were just family books and i LOVED reading fiction back then #and i really liked the historical aspect to those books in the sense that they were about girls in specific historical periods #and they incorporated actual history in it - to the full extent i'm not sure because i haven't read them in close to ten years (idk)#and it's interesting to see just how many people - not even just women! - knit for soldiers #i'm learning now from this video the sheer number of other people who started in knitting #anyway this is why i'm begging men to also do fiber arts (watching a reel of a guy crochet a blanket and HELL YEAH BROTHER)

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astrobei · 1 year

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byler 22 for the touch prompts??

22 for touch prompts: falling asleep on the other's shoulder (+ bonus mini soundtrack that i listened to on repeat while writing this)

“Remind me again,” Mike says, as Will climbs into the passenger side of the car, “why we have to go to this thing today?”

Will gives him a look. Or his best attempt at a look anyway. He’s ninety percent sure they fall too flat to ever be effective, or Mike would have stopped saying stupid shit years ago. “This thing?” He struggles with the seatbelt for a moment before it finally clicks into place. “You mean your sister’s wedding? To my brother?”

Mike pulls a face. “If you want to get into the semantics,” he mumbles, adjusting the rearview mirror, and Will laughs.

“You’re ridiculous. It’s their wedding, Mike.”

“Rude to get married on a Saturday night,” Mike says, as if every wedding in the history of the world ever hasn’t taken place on a Saturday night. “Maybe some of us had things to do.”

“Yeah? What did you have going on?” Will asks, smoothing down the lapel of his suit. This jacket is a lint magnet like nothing he’s ever seen before, and he plucks a little piece of it away. “Hot date?”

Mike wiggles his eyebrows, and Will realizes immediately that this was the wrong thing to say. “Yeah,” Mike chirps, looking entirely too pleased with himself. “You.”

Despite himself, Will feels his cheeks turn red. It’s stupid, because he quite literally handed Mike the opportunity to say this on a silver platter, and it’s more dumb than any sort of flirtatious, except the unfortunate truth of dating Mike Wheeler is that he doesn’t even have to try and actually flirt to get Will blushing like a teenage girl. “I had that coming,” he admits, and Mike grins even harder than before. “And we didn’t have a date tonight.”

“We did! We were going to–”

“We can order pizza and watch TV when we get back, Mike,” Will chides, and, when Mike’s lower lip turns downward in something reminiscent of a pout, “this is Nancy’s wedding.”

“I was never Nancy’s favorite sibling,” Mike says noncommittally, releasing the parking brake, “she won’t even notice if I’m not there,” which one, is not true because Mike makes up about a third of Nancy’s bridal party so she will most definitely notice if he goes AWOL. And second, this is also not true because Will knows that Holly is currently in the throes of teenage angst, and Mike is still working on the angst but he’s moved on from the teenager part, at least, which is definitely earning him some points in Nancy’s book. So at worst, he’s tied with Holly. At least for the next couple of years.

And Will knows he’s not being serious anyway. For all of the fuss he’s kicking up, he knows Mike is happy for them. Will checks the backseat to make sure he put the presents in the car earlier that afternoon, and says, laughing, “Cold feet? It’s not even your wedding, Mike.”

“I know,” Mike moans, falling forward until his forehead hits the top of the steering wheel. “And it’s exciting! I’m happy for them! And your brother too, and I know your mom and Hop are so pumped, and�� it’s just that I’m not so pumped about spending the evening with my family.”

Will suddenly feels very, very stupid. Jesus, he hadn’t even thought about that– about Mike’s parents being there, and his nana, the one that his mom had totally guilted Nancy into inviting because she might not live long enough to see Mike and Holly get married, Nancy, just let her have this. Which was kind of a depressing enough thought on its own, Will thinks, even without the entire conversation that had followed, the one he’d overheard Mike have on the phone in the living room, loud and frustrated before he’d slammed the phone down on the receiver hard enough for Will to hear it from their bedroom.

“I’m sorry,” he breathes out, then rests a hand on Mike’s shoulder. “Don’t listen to them, okay, Mike? Just– hang out with us instead. I know Dustin’s been dying to break out his new dance moves.”

Mike cracks a tentative smile, then turns his face slightly so that one side of it is illuminated by the glow of the street lamps outside. “I’m scared he’s going to get driven away in a stretcher,” Mike admits, and Will grins.

“Yeah, probably. It’ll be a good distraction, at least. I’ll tell him to take one for the team.”

Mike nods once, but he doesn’t look convinced. “Yeah. Thanks.”

Will hesitates, then drops his hand to Mike’s and slots their fingers together. “Hey,” he says quietly. “Look at me.”

Mike looks up the rest of the way. He looks incredible tonight, which is something Will’s been thinking ever since they’d started getting ready an hour ago, and at least half of the reason it took him so long was because he’d been totally distracted the whole time. Maybe Will is just biased, which is a little true, sure, but Mike should definitely wear suits more– and he’s officially taking it upon himself to make sure that Mike wears suits more– because suddenly he’s tempted to take Mike up on his offer of becoming a runaway best man and going back inside and collapsing on the couch and kissing him stupid into the early hours of the morning.

“What?” Mike is saying, eyebrows twisting a little self-consciously. “You’re looking at me funny.”

“You just look really nice,” Will says simply, and then, because that comes nowhere close to how good Mike looks in a tie, “no, actually, you look– wow.”

Mike’s lips twitch, but he looks a little pleased. “Wow? Really?”

“You’ve rendered me speechless,” Will nods rapidly, and Mike’s shy smile breaks into something more genuine. “You– look at you, I mean– I can’t even– wow.”

“Will,” Mike says, drawing out the single syllable until it feels big enough to fill up the whole car. “Okay, I look nice! You can stop playing it up now.”

His cheeks are turning red, slowly, visible even in the dim lighting of the street lamps through the windows, because it’s early fall and it’s started to get dark ridiculously early in the day. It feels like a victory, getting Mike flustered, even after a year of dating. Will smiles to himself.

“I’m not,” Will says, then leans in across the console. “Come here. I’ll prove it.”

“You’ll–” Mike gets out, eyes going wide in surprise, “–has anyone ever told you that you’re–”

Whatever it was that people may or may not have told Will is apparently a mystery that will die with the universe, because Will never finds out. He kisses Mike with one hand still holding his, threads a hand through his hair and cups his jaw. Soft. Slow. Unhurried, even though they should have left ten minutes ago and they’re going to be cutting it real close– Will can’t be bothered to rush.

Mike hums low in the back of his throat, pleased, and shifts closer. He’s pushing himself up over the console, a hand ghosting the side of Will’s neck, when–

Beeeeep.

“What–” Will jerks backwards, startled, and Mike immediately lets go of his hand. “Did you just–”

Mike rubs his elbow and moves further away from the wheel. “I got a little distracted,” he laughs, but the tension has ebbed from his shoulders a little and his eyes are creasing up at the corners, so Will considers this a mission success, thank you. “We should probably go?”

“Good idea,” Will says, then reaches over to smooth out a stray tuft of Mike’s hair that was– he thinks, a little proud of himself– definitely not out of place before. “And hey,” he adds, before Mike can take the car out of park. “Seriously. Ignore your parents. It’s not their wedding, okay, it’s Nancy’s. And Jonathan’s. And they both want us there. Together.”

Mike’s lips press together into a thin, determined line. “You’re right,” he nods, “I know, it’s just–”

“I know,” Will echoes, and Mike shoots him a grateful smile. “Now let’s go, or we really will miss the ceremony.”

—-

They don’t miss the ceremony, which is good, because having both the best man and the– whatever Mike was– would probably not be a good look for anyone involved.

“I can’t believe you cried,” Dustin says, after the toasts are done and the speeches are given and everyone’s been supplied with enough champagne to go a little loose and maybe a little tear-happy.

Mike scowls across the table at him. “I didn’t cry,” he insists, which is kind of pointless because Will had been watching him the whole time he’d been standing up there, shuffling his feet awkwardly in place at his designated spot in between Holly and Robin Buckley, and he’d definitely cried. Just a little, but he had.

“You did,” El chimes in primly, plucking at her shrimp cocktail. “I saw.”

“Thanks, El,” Mike mutters, sinking back in his chair a little and crossing his arms. “It’s– the vows were very emotional, okay, you’d have to be made of total stone to not tear up!”

“I didn’t cry,” Lucas announces, which is a fucking lie, by the way. Will saw him dabbing at his eyes in the bathroom on the way here.

“I think it’s sweet,” he says, instead of throwing Lucas to the dogs like he maybe should have. He flashes Mike a grin, leans over in his chair to bridge the space between them and squeezes his hand, once. “They were very sappy vows, to be fair.”

Mike blinks up at him from where he’s slumped down to somewhere around shoulder height. “You didn’t cry.”

“Oh, I did,” Will assures him. “I just cried in the back with Jonathan while he was getting ready.”

“Really?” Mike perks right up. “You did?”

“Yes,” Will laughs, “and I can’t believe you’re happy about it,” and then Mike grins so wide that Will can’t help but lean in the rest of the way and press a quick kiss to Mike’s cheek.

“You two are disgusting,” Lucas says, and he’s maybe one strike away from Will speaking up about the bathroom incident after all.

“Maybe so,” Mike relents, looking properly cheered up now. “What about it?”

Mike’s grip on Will’s hand never falters. Will feels himself turn warmer with every slow pass of Mike’s thumb over his knuckles, even with their hands tucked under the tablecloth and out of view. And it isn’t from the champagne. He’s had just the one glass with dinner, which is nothing, so it must be something else that’s making him feel like this. Something–

“You okay?” Mike murmurs as his thumb pauses, briefly, on the back of Will’s hand. “You got kind of quiet out of nowhere,” and yeah, there it is.

“I meant it,” Will says, lowering his voice so their friends can’t hear them from across the table. “What I said in the car, I mean. You look beautiful.”

It’s a little amusing just how fast Mike can turn such a violent shade of red. “You can’t just say that,” he splutters. “Give a guy some warning, Jesus, Will–”

“Mm, no,” Will decides smugly, watching the red creep down the collar of Mike’s carefully starched dress shirt. Then, because the soft lighting of the venue and the way Mike’s hair has started to fall free around his face is doing something funny to his chest and stomach, Will nods to the dance floor and says, “You wanna?”

Mike hesitates, looking over his shoulder. “Dance?”

Will shrugs, then looks over to where Jonathan and Nancy are trying– and failing, quite hilariously and miserably– at a dance of their own. “I mean, it’s a wedding, and people dance at weddings. Not that either of us are good at it, but it might be fun to try?”

Mike chews nervously at his lower lip and nudges Will’s foot with his own. “I don’t know,” he admits. “My mom was eyeing me earlier and I was totally avoiding her by hiding out over here but I feel like the dance floor is fair game for a–” he waves his hands around, “pseudo-confrontation. Nancy’s only three years older than you, blah, blah. When are you going to settle down, blah, blah. Even though I’m here with my boyfriend, which apparently doesn’t count for shit, and–” Mike sighs dejectedly. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to bring the mood down, it’s just– I was having such a good day, too.”

Will squeezes Mike’s leg, just above the knee. “You were having a good day? Really? Even though your hot date got canceled?”

“Well,” Mike rolls his eyes. “My sister got married, and now my hot date is all dressed up and sweet-talking me, so I think this is even better than pizza on the couch.” He pauses, contemplating. “Actually, scratch that. It’s not. But it’s a close second,” Mike adds, then grins and picks Will’s hand up again. “Dance– later, maybe? I’m really enjoying this for right now.”

“Of course. Anything you want,” Will smiles, as the music in the background softens into something more mellow. He pulls his chair up so that it’s flush with Mike’s, their thighs pressed up together in one line, and passes Mike a flute of champagne from the table. “You might want to drink this, though, because your mom looks like she might be heading over here any second.”

“Thanks,” Mike groans, then knocks the whole thing back in one go.

—-

Will knows that a big fancy flashy wedding isn’t really Jonathan’s style, and he didn’t think it was Nancy’s either. Which is why he was surprised to get an invite to an event at all, because he’d honestly sort of thought they’d make a courthouse affair of it and then have everyone over for dinner or something. They’d been engaged for, like, three years, because it was career stuff and then more career stuff and then a couple months of long distance while Jonathan was doing some photojournalism thing in London, and Will had figured at some point that they’d get so tired of being engaged that they’d show up the next day with papers from City Hall and that would be that.

Apparently, though, in a not-so-surprising turn of events, Nancy Wheeler takes to event planning like a moth to flame, and Jonathan was immediately dragged along for the ride. He didn’t seem too upset about it, though, when Will had asked. “It’s Nancy,” he shrugged, like that explained everything. And maybe it did, because not too long after that, Will started dating Mike and everything immediately clicked.

Which is maybe the most embarrassing thing that’s ever happened to him. For anyone else, Will would not even entertain the thought of fussing over seating arrangements, and he’s certain he only knows, like, five types of flowers– if pink and red roses count as two different types. It’s Nancy, Jonathan had said, and Will hadn’t gotten it then but he does now.

Mike’s hand twitches on Will’s bicep, fingers clutching once at the fabric of his shirt. Will’s suit jacket lies abandoned on the chair behind them. Mike had leaned over maybe half an hour ago to rest his head on Will’s shoulder, as it got later in the night and guests started slowly trickling out of the room. And then, maybe fifteen or so minutes ago, his breathing had evened out, fingers slackening in their grip against his arm, and Will doesn’t know how the hell Mike can fall asleep in a room that’s filled with so much noise, but he can’t help but find it endearing– wholly, completely, embarrassingly endearing.

And he gets it, he does. It’s Mike, he thinks, chest flooding with warmth in a strange, hollowed-out way, like there’s nothing left inside him except this feeling. It’s Mike. It’s Mike. It’s–

“Hey, hon,” comes a voice behind him, and Will startles, just a little, then immediately relaxes.

“Oh, hey mom,” he whispers, and Mike’s hand twitches lightly against his arm again. Joyce gives him an amused look, glancing down at Mike, then back at Will.

“Did he fall asleep?” she asks, pulling up a chair next to them. “I’ll be quiet, don’t worry.”

Will feels himself smile before he actually realizes he’s doing it. “Yeah,” he snorts softly, “but I have no idea how.”

As if roused by some sixth sense, like he knew they were talking about him, Mike stirs, lifting his head off of Will’s shoulder and blinking blearily. “What–”

“Shh,” Will says, and Joyce bites back a smile. “Go back to sleep.”

“I didn’t mean to,” Mike says, and then yawns loud and conspicuously. “Shit– I’ve just been so tired this week, sorry, Will–”

“Don’t be,” he says immediately, even though his shoulder and arm are starting to fall asleep, just a little. Will drops a kiss to the top of Mike’s head, and feels him start to smile into his shoulder before stiffening, a little self-consciously, and glancing up at Joyce.

“Um–”

“Oh,” his mom waves a hand, “don’t mind me. You two are so sweet. You remind me of Nancy and Jonathan after they started dating. Jonathan would turn so red, but maybe not as red as you’re turning right now, Will–”

“Mom!”

“Red?” Mike perks up, and then, “Oh you are turning red!”

“Shut up,” Will mumbles, but he’s sure it’s not convincing in the slightest. “Did you come over here just to embarrass me?”

Joyce puts two hands up in the air like hey, don’t look at me. “I was just going to let you know that Hop and I are taking off,” she says, eyes sparkling. “He has the early shift tomorrow, but Mike, now that I’ve caught you– your speech was wonderful. Really. Jim was tearing up and he told me to never let you find out but I figured you’d want to know.”

Mike blinks. He still looks a little out of it, still a little red from sleep or the champagne from earlier, but he smiles, sudden and pleased. “Really?”

“Don’t tell him I told you,” Joyce grins conspiratorially. “But yes. It was very sweet.”

“Thanks Mrs. Byers,” Mike says, the words stretching into another yawn, quieter this time. He groans lightly, then pushes himself off of Will’s shoulder and sits back up.

Will peers over at him. “Are you tired? You want to head back?”

Mike rubs at his eyes with both hands, blinks a few times in rapid succession, then shakes his head like he’s trying to shake the sleep out of his body, like it’s a physical thing. “No,” he smiles, and it’s a little bit tired, but he looks happy. “No, not yet.”

“Okay,” Will whispers, and he’s probably grinning like an idiot, but he can’t help it. That’s the common denominator here, between every interaction he ever has with Mike– that he’s so happy that he just can’t help it. “You still want to get pizza on the way back?”

“God, yes please,” Mike groans in relief. “Um. No offense, but wedding food is just– like what the hell, man, I’m starving. That was nothing.”

“Pizza it is,” Will agreed easily, mentally making a pros and cons list of getting a large and having leftovers or saving money and going for a medium. “Pepperoni?”

“Anything goes,” Mike is saying, and then Joyce clears her throat.

“Well,” she says, snapping her purse shut and smiling. “Hop and I are heading out but– oh, drive safe you two. Eat a slice for me, actually, I’ve been craving pizza all week.”

“Bye, mom,” Will smiles, craning his neck upwards as she plants a kiss on top of his head.

“You too,” she says to Mike, who barely has time to blink in surprise before his mom is dropping a kiss on his forehead. She rests a hand on his shoulder briefly as she smiles and says, “I’d welcome you to the family, Mike, but you’ve been a part of it for years already.”

“I– bye, Mrs. Byers,” Mike says faintly, eyes wide, as Joyce waves goodbye. He turns back to Will. “Part of the family? Really?”

“It’s what you get for dating your best friend,” Will murmurs, glancing out over the rapidly emptying room before tugging on Mike’s arm until he falls into him with a small, startled noise. “You get smothered by my mom.”

“I wouldn’t call it smothering,” Mike laughs, eyes darting down to Will’s mouth. He swallows, and says, softly, “Plus, I like your family. No complaints from me.”

Will hums, soft. “I’m sorry about– you know. How did that go?”

“Nancy said she survived mom and dad with minimal damage,” Mike laughs drily. “And nana too. And I managed to avoid them long enough that they didn’t have a chance to ambush me, so.”

“Good,” Will says, kissing Mike softly on the corner of his mouth, then again, right over the curve of his cupid’s bow. He’s a little warm, a little loose and pliant from sleep, and he moves easily, tucking a finger into the loop of Will’s tie and pulling him in closer. Their knees bump against each other under the tablecloth, chair legs scraping gently across the polished floor as Will leans forward. “I’m glad,” Will says into the kiss, and Mike smiles.

“Me too,” Mike whispers, tucking his hands into Will’s hair and pulling away, just barely. “Because now they’re gone and all of our annoying cursory invite relatives are gone and it’s just you and me– and Nancy, and Jonathan, and El and Lucas and– whatever. I think I owe you a dance.”

There’s something slow and melodic playing as Nancy and Jonathan make the last of their rounds, most of the tables empty and the dance floor cleared out. Will grins, kisses Mike one more time for good measure, then stands up. “Okay,” he agrees, “but I’m leading.”

“I don’t think it makes a difference, because neither of us can–”

“I’m leading,” Will says again, and Mike chuckles, shaking his head.

“Yeah, sure. Lead the way, Will.”

#oh this got away from me #this really really got away from me #parker the actual prompt part is so minor i'm so sorry i had a vision for this and then it got away from me so bad #idk why i thought jancy wedding but the thought popped into my head and i just went with it #something so personal to me is jancy deciding to have a courthouse wedding but then nancy gets into planning like music and food and stuff #nothing fancy like she's not a bridezilla by any means #but they end up having a small ceremony n reception with just their family n close friends #like the extended party + jopper #and on nancy's side her parents wheedle her into inviting a few other relatives like aunts n cousins but it's still iike 25-30 people max #anyways these tags got so long and weren't even byler #parker i hope u like this !!!#probably is not even what u had in mind but . Yeah #byler #mike wheeler #will byers #fic #fun sized fics

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dracocheesecake · 10 months

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Oh I just wanted to ask if you have any platonic! Kai x reader headcanons with dynamic like big guy protects smol creature and maybe being a father figure to them?

Actually yes! Warning, though: Kai isn't exactly a great person.

Father-Figure!Kai x Reader Headcanons:

Why are you so smol and weak? It's not worth taking your chi, really. It would be like eating celery: you burn more than you get out of it.

Someway, somehow, though, for whatever reason, Kai can't seem to get rid of you. At first it seems that you keep on running into each other, and then Kai starts cracking a slight joke or two, full of self-satisfaction. "Alright, I refuse to believe it's destiny at this point: you just have to be stalking me. What, are you a fan or something?"

Then this eventually progresses until you somehow bump into him again, and Kai gets so fed up that he just decides to take you along for the ride with him- supposedly, until he decides just what to do with you.

Kai, of course, in the midst of this rash decision, forgot that you are very mortal and still require things like rest stops, food, warmth, sleep, etc.- Transporting you around isn't exactly like carting around luggage. Kai gets annoyed when you point this out to him, but does (reluctantly) provide for you- while claiming that he's just getting you stronger so he can take your chi later.

He's actually a decent cook, but don't ever critique him. "What? I haven't done this in 500 years, I'm a little rusty. Besides, if you were really hungry, you'd eat anything put in front of you without complaint. Eat or starve."

However, as time wears on, you notice Kai starts being a little less harsh on you. His occasional sardonic remarks become somewhat more playful, and sometimes are punctuated by him rubbing his knuckles against the top of your head in a manner one could almost call...dare I say...affectionate?

You find Kai making you little gifts: a cloak to keep you warm ("It won't be on my head if you freeze to death, at least.") A blade of your very own ("You're weak and small. You need some sort of protection. What? Did you think I was going to follow you around to play bodyguard forever?"), etc.

Kai will also start training you a little as well. It seems harsh and unforgiving to you at first, almost to the point of being cruel- but when you complain to Kai he laughs in your face. "Harsh? You call this harsh? You have no idea how easy I'm being on you. You should have seen how I trained my soldiers!"

*Sarcastic gasp* "You moved me at least half a centimeter! What an improvement!...Nah, fifty push-ups. Now."

When you actually start improving, he actually praises you- though at first it's more as if he's praising his own abilities as a mentor- but you can tell he's actually proud of you, how much you've managed to accomplish in such a short time.

However, if you do somehow manage to run into trouble, Kai is there in an instant- he's not letting anything happen to you, even if you can supposedly handle yourself. If you ask him about it, he just shrugs and says that if anyone's going to take your life, it's going to be him.

Kai also yells at you whenever there's the slightest chance you'll get hurt; the louder he yells, though, the more it shows he cares- he might accidently let a few words slip, such as "Do you have any idea how worried I was?! Do that again, and I'll throw you off a cliff myself! Maybe I should turn you into an amulet after all, and keep you out of trouble!"

Kai grumbles under his breath, calling you an idiot, all while he patches you up with more gentleness than you thought him capable of.

Also expect him to carry you around alot. You have tiny legs and it's faster and easier. Sometimes, though, Kai will scare you by running as fast as he can on all fours, laughing while you scream at him to stop, clinging to his fur for dear life.

Seriously Kai loves messing with you. He calls it his prime source of entertainment. At first his teasing and jokes at you are cruel and dark in nature, and often at your expense; but steadily they start turning more light-hearted, and even get a laugh or two out of you (which makes him smile- but you didn't see it).

Basically Kai doesn't want to outwardly admit that you've grown on whatever little shred of heart he thought had long withered away in his chest. Over time, he's almost come to see you as the child he'd never had the time to have.

When he finally does take your chi, he wears your amulet around his neck, close to his heart. It was hard- harder than he would admit, even to himself- but in his mind, it had to be done: at least this way, he tells himself, he won't lose you.

#ask #thanks fot the ask!#had alot of fun with this time but I'm sorry if it's a little darker than expected #again I sometimes feel I'm not writing Kai very in character but I try my best to make him as close to canon as I can even in headcanons #hope these are alright!#headcanons #kung fu panda #kai kfp #general kai the dad #general kai #kai #general kai x reader #platonic relationships #familial relationships #kfp #kung fu panda 3 #again kai does his best in the worst way possible

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bruhstation · 1 year

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the journey of gordon juniperus gresley (and still ongoing)

#thomas the tank engine #thomas and friends #ttte gordon #senjart #casa tidmouth #casa tidmouth act 2 #my everything. godddd I love him so so much #he's like. objectively the best character in the whole series #also I think he and scott were really close as kids #esp. with only one year age difference and how scott continuously supported him despite their family's situation #(imo their rivalry in tgr was one sided from gordon's part. scott's just balling while gordon still wants to overpass him)#like ok. I know this is a post about gordon but I think scott needs some appreciation with how he prioritizes his brother over himself #bro's probably emotionally devastated too with losing his siblings and father. but he still has his little brother #gordon probably felt like he owes scott a lot. but he's bad at words (ALL gresleys are) and he has his own set of problems SOOOOOO #and gordon. even though he lost so many people in his life he still keeps on going. he never gives up because-#-despite how much he complaints and boasts about himself he firmly believes that things will eventually turn out okay for him #aggresive optimist. something like that? you get what I'm trying to say #like a coworker would say ''this is hopeless'' and gordon would just say ''you're being ridiculous''#anyways enough of me talking. I wanna draw scott's and gordon's railway show designs BUT WHEN? LET'S SEE #(crying at little gordon. it shows from his eyes that he has no idea what's about to happen to him)

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wonder-worker · 6 months

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"The newly widowed Elizabeth (Woodville) was exceptionally vulnerable. Several of the trustees responsible for her jointure refused to hand over the manors that were meant to sustain her in her widowhood. Moreover, her brother-in-law, Edward Grey, had seized estates that her son Thomas should have inherited from his paternal grandfather, while her mother-in-law’s new young husband, Sir John Bourchier, had prevailed on Lady Ferrers to settle her principal properties on them jointly for life, ensuring that Thomas would have to wait far longer for this inheritance too. Rivers and Scales were pardoned in July 1461 and swiftly moved into the Yorkist establishment, which perhaps explains the success of the chancery suits Elizabeth launched to regain her jointure. Her son’s inheritance proved harder to recover. By 1463, Rivers was often in (Edward IV's) company and on his council, but Elizabeth needed someone with much stronger influence over the King. She turned to a distant kinsman, William, Lord Hastings, the King’s chamberlain. Hastings drove a very hard bargain for his aid but it was probably amid these negotiations that the King’s desire for Elizabeth was kindled."

-J.L. Laynesmith, "Elizabeth Woodville: the Knight's Widow", "Later Plantagenet and Wars of the Roses Consorts: Power, Influence, and Dynasty"

#historicwomendaily #elizabeth woodville #Elizabeth really had terrible in-laws #And these people weren't even the worst of them - that particular award goes to Richard of Gloucester #As complicated as her first widowhood sounds it was a breeze compared to the literal nightmare she went through during her second.#Honestly though: part me wonders what Elizabeth's first marriage was like because we know absolutely nothing about it.#The marriage itself is a blank slate but the fact that her husband's parents & siblings were so indifferent and uncooperative #to her - and their own kid-grandchildren?? - after he died indicates that his family may have been rather dysfunctional imo?#Certainly they (or most of them) don't seem to have cared about the wellbeing or dignity of his young and newly widowed wife which #doesn't exactly suggest closeness or support during the marriage itself from their end.#Elizabeth doesn't mention John Gray in her deathbed will either though she mentions Edward IV. She may have thought it was #'inappropriate' to mention her first husband beside her significantly higher-ranked second husband...but she DOES mention her son by #her first marriage - which would have drawn attention to it anyway - alongside her royal daughter so that's unlikely to have been a reason.#Maybe it was simply the passage of time? She and John had been married for very few years and she lived such a different life after that #So it's possible that her first marriage simply seemed very distant and faraway to her.#Alternatively it may have simply been undivided affection for Edward IV (her husband of 19 years who she married for love)#which fits well into the relatively personal nature of her will.#Of course we don't actually know anything about any of this and this is all pure wild speculation on my end...but I'm curious.#It's really a shame how little we actually know about Elizabeth's life - made worse by the very limited primary records of Edward IV's #reign and the fact that his chamber records don't survive. And it's even more frustrating that this is so rarely actually acknowledged #by historians. I'd argue we know far more about the life & interests of most other 'prominent' women of the Wars of the Roses #(sans the Neville sisters) than we do about Elizabeth Woodville.

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fallout-fucker · 10 months

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Sole Survivor Headcanon

Kind of OC based but it's also vague (Although Minutemen leaning) so like. If your Sole wasn't a soldier or lawyer. Or anything. Just a skill-less bastard. You might like this. Enjoy.

Sole being trusted by so many factions just for breathing is so funny actually. Like they deadass crawl out of a cave, freshly traumatised, and told they're a General? Because they helped someone? Cool, yeah, sure, uh-huh. That's a great amount of pressure to handle on top of their circumstances.

I like to think that everyone also assumes they're insanely clever. It's not that Sole isn't, per se, but everyone treats them like a genius. A prodigy. People have told Sole they understand why Preston trusted them so much because the Commonwealth 'needs their level of knowledge and intelligence to get better'. To which Sole is always bewildered, because their 'extensive level of knowledge' is just. High school level. Basic science lessons.

They know about evolution and stem cells and stuff. They know how disease and antibodies work. They're praised for changing people's opinions on vaccination when, with the help of Curie, they start a campaign to bring back vaccines. Their goal was to fight the viruses that had been brought back from near extinction from 200+ years of no healthcare system, no scientists and doctors to cure them. A tilt back in the direction of accessible Pre-War healthcare.

Sole knows history. They know what to watch out for, how to spot tension between factions. They know how to avoid more war, lessons learned from textbooks and late nights with post-it notes. They know how to piece together a scale and pin point the tipping point to stop it before shit goes down because they did a project about it on a WW1 assignment. The Great War. The irony is not lost on Sole when they contemplate that name for too long.

They're decent at Maths. Decent enough to make sure the caps and donations to the Minutemen are being put to good use. To make sure the book keeping is up to code and every cap is accounted for, and what it should be put towards. Like trying to bring back vaccines from 200 years ago. Negotiating with Vault 81 to let Curie use the old lab there goes way more smoothly when they've got the caps to make a worthy case for the cause.

Sole knows why people assume their mind is unmatched, though. In a way it is, sort of, they suppose. Since education is rare in the Post-War world, and even then it's not at the level it was Pre-War, Sole just seems smart. Everyone thinks they are.

Sole never knows how to handle it.

Are they complicit for letting people believe they're a genius? Should they keep up the charade so people listen to them? The thought keeps them up at night. Preston laughs at them for it.

MacCready reminds them of the many times they looked like a dumbass in every other circumstance where they lacked knowledge. 210 years of missing out on General Wolrd Stuff will do that to ya. It's not necessarily their fault, but he still likes to drag them for the time they got food poisoning because they didn't realise some of the new plants had to be cooked before consumption.

Every time someone acts in awe of Sole's intelligence, MacCready snickers because he was there in the early days. Sole had hired him to watch their back. Soon enough he became their mentor on how to shoot a gun properly. How to maintain it. What to eat, what not to eat, what to definetly not eat. How to make sure mole rat meat is 100% cooked. How to safely remove as much radiation as possible from water and food when you have only basic supplies. He would never think Sole is stupid. They know a lot compared to most people, but learning how to survive and knowing how to count are very different types of knowledge. No, he'd never think they're stupid. But he definetly humbles them, which Sole is actually happy about. He still affectionately calls them an idiot and reminds them of the time they tripped over their own laces, alerting the radstag they were hunting of their presence. And the food poisoning thing. And the incident with the bucket. And when they almost touched a deadly plant because they thought it would look nice in a vase they found.

Thing is, Preston taught them basics of how to shoot and fight before they left Sanctuary. MacCready picked up the workload when he met Sole and realised they'd likely get them both killed if he didn't. Cait showed them hand to hand combat and lockpicking. Everyone at some point taught Sole something. So Sole goes red from embarrassment when being complimented on their mind, because they know they're gonna get an earful from their friends later. Affectionately bullied. You know Deacon has some blackmail level information from the months he followed them. They all sit at Sole's kitchen counter and share stories of Sole's embarrassing misadventures over breakfast. That's just what a family does.

#Sole Survivor #Preston Garvey #Robert Joseph MacCready #MacCready #Cait #The companions all (Within reason) move to Sanctuary and basically live together agenda #Seperate houses but they all go to Sole's kitchen for breakfast eveey morning.#Sole doesn't know how they keep getting in. They're there before Sole is even awake. Codsworth always has their drinks ready #I'm pushing my 'As much as they say theh hate each other all of the comps secretly love each other or do eventually'#Looking at you Danse #They're a family baby. Their the equivalent of Millennials and Gen Z not being able to afford homes in their economy #So people live with their best friends instead #Sanctuary is just a commune for all of Sole's friends and found family #'It takes a village'. Duncan and Shaun literally have a village. So many aunts and uncles bro #I love thinking about everyone being close. They're like pack animals. Mess with one and. You have at least 10 people hunting you #This deserves it's own post tbh #I wanna make a companions headcanon post based on them as a found family #Fallout #Fallout 4 #Deacon

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