#good thing to post on the last day of pride month i guess?
Text
Concealer
finally. the long shadowpeach pride month fic. i honestly cant believe i managed to finish this on time.
anyways. welcome to the post s3 special fic where Wukong drags Macaque into helping him with his glamours. Oh, and also a few other things happen, but they’re not important. Probably.
TW: Panic Attacks, talk of scars and injuries
Word Count: 13.4k
Read on AO3
Macaque woke up that morning to the dawn shining through his curtains, the sounds of the city starting to wake up, the birds calling out the song of the day, and the horrifying realization that Sun Wukong was climbing in through his window.
“Oh good, you’re up.” Wukong said, casually, like he wasn’t literally breaking and entering into Macaque’s bedroom. “If you weren’t I was going to have to throw you into a nearby mountain. Saves me the energy I guess.”
Macaque continued to sit in his bed in complete and utter disbelief for another two seconds, slowly registering the situation.
“What the fuck are you doing in my house.” He deadpanned. Wukong didn’t seem to care about his less than stellar reaction to his grand appearance, instead choosing to investigate the room, Macaque watching in continuous disbelief and offense as Wukong opened one of his drawers and started rummaging through it. “Wh- hey- Wukong that’s my stuff-”
“The kid wants you to hang out with him and the others today, for some reason.” Wukong said, ignoring Macaque’s protests as he opened another drawer to dig through. “Something about going to a theater? I didn’t pay that much attention.”
“Same old Wukong, never paying attention to anything unless it involves himself.” Macaque sighed, before flopping backwards onto his bed, rolling over and pulling the covers over top of his head. “Tell MK I’m taking a rain check today, will ya? I’m not in the mood for him and his friends’ sickening optimism.”
“Oh come on now, I was told to fetch you no matter what, you know.”
Macaque felt a light tug on the edge of the blanket, and dug his claws into both it and the mattress below him.
It wasn’t enough to stop Wukong from yanking both the blanket and him off of the bed though.
Macaque let out a yelp as he slammed into the floor of his bedroom, Wukong whistling innocently, turning to investigate yet another drawer as Macaque untangled himself from the mess of blankets to glare up at him.
“You-”
“I’m sure it’s obvious you can’t take a rain check now.” Wukong interrupted, his hands pausing for a moment in the middle of rummaging before starting back up again. He wasn’t looking at Macaque. “You better get ready to go and hang out with them, or I will drag you there, even if you kick and yell.”
“...Yeah yeah, whatever.” Macaque huffed, slowly pulling himself to stand up, attempting to fix the crinkles in his pajamas, glad that he slept with his glamours over his scar on last night. He ran his fingers through his hair, reapplying the glamour over the white streaks that had started to break through from the glamour loosening as he slept, before lightly tracing his ears to turn the six into two. Just to be sure, he softly placed a hand over his scar, reapplying the glamour over it with slightly more strength.
Wukong had gone suspiciously silent.
Macaque blinked, glancing over. The Monkey King was no longer going through Macaque’s drawers, and was instead just standing there, slightly leaning up against it, staring at him. They held eye contact for a few seconds, and then Wukong shook his head as though ridding himself of a thought, and Macaque glanced down at the floor, subconsciously placing a glamour over top of the rest of his face as well to hide the purple flush. Wukong started heading back towards the window, easily walking around where Macaque stood.
“Well, I’d better head back to the mountain, MK’s going to come over for training later after he finishes hanging out with you and his friends, and I need to get a few more things ready. Plus, you know how the baby monkeys are like if I’m gone for too long-”
“Sun Wukong.”
“Hm?”
“Why are you trying to steal my makeup case?”
Wukong froze, one leg out the window. The sunrise shone behind him, illuminating him. The wind blew in through the open window, rustling both the curtains, as well as Wukong’s hair and fur, making him look almost otherworldly.
It didn’t change that he looked like he’d been caught in the act of stealing from the cookie jar though.
“I. Have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“I can literally see it tucked into your side pocket.”
Wukong’s tail moved to cover the edges of the makeup case that weren’t hidden within the folds of his pocket. The two of them stood at a stalemate, maintaining eye contact, waiting to see who would be the first one to break.
“Peaches, your eyes are turning pink.”
Macaque smirked with victory as Wukong swore, breaking eye contact, but his expression slowly turned into one of horror as he watched Wukong reach up and forcibly pull down on something that to the normal eye was completely invisible.
“Holy shit- Don’t treat your magic like that you idiot-” Macaque stepped forwards and down into the shadows, popping up directly in front of Wukong and grabbing hold of his wrists. Wukong let out a noise of protest, about to break free- “Do you want to unleash all your magic and destroy everything within a 100 kilometer radius? Fuck your magic is all taut like a bowstring it’s a miracle it hasn’t snapped already-”
Wukong stopped struggling, blinking in confusion as Macaque led him over to sit on his bed, already in full magic analysis mode. Reaching up, Macaque grabbed hold of the magic around Wukong’s head, a lot more gently than Wukong himself had. Wukong shivered, the sensation weird, as Macaque’s unglamoured eye flashed purple, golden strings manifesting, most of them pulled tight and almost looking like they were starting to fray. Macaque tsked, seemingly not thinking too deeply about his actions as he ran his fingers along them, glowing purple magic swirling around his fingers as he fixed the fraying bits, before moving and slowly undoing the knots that were pulling them tight. Wukong didn’t protest, simply stunned at Macaque’s sudden amount of…gentleness and care.
“Your magic doesn’t work the way mine does.” Macaque said, mostly talking out loud to himself as he continued to work on the knots. Taking a moment to pause as Wukong’s glamours came down, before continuing his work, not commenting on it. “Mine is more loose, it waves and folds and easily bends around me to create perfect glamours. Yours, on the other hand, doesn’t bend as easily, it’s meant to be used for stiff bursts, offensive, forceful spells, and trying to make it bend to make glamours like mine isn’t good for it.”
“I know that.”
“Then why is your magic so out of whack right now then, oh Intelligent Stone Monkey?”
“Because I don’t have a choice.” Wukong hissed, “The kid can’t know I look like- like-”
“Like this?” Macaque asked, and twisted his own magic around himself to perfectly mirror the way Wukong looked at the moment. The small scar cutting through his eyebrow. The scar on his cheek. The burn marks around his deep red eyes. The freckles going over his cheeks and nose. The old and new singe marks in his fur.
Not to mention the blue streaks running through his hair.
Wukong blinked as he registered his own image before him, before his eyes narrowed as he growled, reaching out and smacking Macaque on the nose, knocking the disguise off of him. Macaque gave a little yelp, before sticking his tongue out at him. Wukong huffed.
“Stop doing that.” He said, crossing his arms as he looked away, his eye twitching as he felt Macaque get back to work on the magic threads. “...I know bending my magic isn’t good. I was going to start looking into other solutions…”
“Such as stealing my makeup kit?” Macaque asked, and Wukong’s tail moved back to once again cover the kit from Macaque’s view. “Please, I don’t think the stuff in there would’ve helped you hide all of this mess anyways.”
‘Mess’, as though Macaque wasn’t still maintaining that glamour to keep the purple blush on his face from being noticed. It was times like these that he was glad that Wukong’s golden vision couldn’t see through his glamours…
His glamours…
“If you want to hide this from the kid, your glamours aren’t gonna cut it.” He said, removing his hands from the threads of Wukong’s magic, finished with untangling them, letting them fade out of view again. “He has golden vision, remember? One look and he’ll see right through you.”
“Well- what would you suggest then? It’s not like I can just hide away from MK, he’ll just get suspicious and drag me out forcibly. I don’t really have many options here, if you haven’t noticed-”
“Let me do it.”
“Huh?”
“Your glamours. Let me do them.”
Wukong continued to stare at Macaque in disbelief, his brain seemingly shutting down as he tried to process the idea. Macaque rolled his eyes, moving forwards, and gently cupping Wukong’s face with his hand to start applying glamours to his face.
“Wait- hold on-” Wukong’s hand shot up to grab hold of Macaque’s wrist, stopping him in place. “How do I know you’re not gonna curse me-”
“Please. I just spent the past ten minutes touching your magic threads, y’know, the stuff connected to your soul? If I was going to place a curse on you I would’ve done so already.”
Wukong…seemed to accept that as a reasonable excuse, slowly letting go of Macaque’s wrist, but not without leveling Macaque with a suspicious glare. Macaque rolled his eyes.
(Even if he still really wanted to curse Wukong, he didn’t think he had the right magic level to do so now anyways. No, most of his own magic, outside of his own glamours, was going towards making sure he remained alive and well, currently. After losing the backup of the Lady Bone Demon’s magic, he wasn’t sure how much magic he could use before he would…
That didn’t matter. His magic would reform and rebuild to the point where he could use it without worrying about that anyways).
Letting out a breath, Macaque leaned forwards slightly, getting started on gently moving Wukong’s magic to create a glamour that even the best true vision could not see through, while being careful not to bend said magic in ways it wasn’t supposed to. He ran his thumb over Wukong’s cheek, the freckles and scar vanishing underneath of his touch. Tracing the freckles and burn marks on the rest of Wukong's face, he made them vanish similarly, before moving up to run his finger over Wukong’s eyebrow, removing that scar from view as well.
“Close your eyes.” He said, Wukong surprisingly still and obeying, as Macaque brushed his thumb over top of Wukong’s eyelids, sticking his tongue out slightly as he focused. “Open.”
When Wukong blinked his eyes open again, they were back to their false gold.
“Last one.” Macaque whispered, more to himself than anything, as he reached up and lightly pinched parts of Wukong’s hair, glamouring the blue streaks and singe marks away from view. Leaning back, he inspected his work, humming. “Anything else?”
For some reason, it took Wukong a moment to answer, and when he did so he did it non-verbally, simply holding up his tail so that Macaque could see it. There were similar streaks of blue and singe marks running through the fur. Macaque simply nodded, reaching out and running his hand along Wukong’s tail, glamouring it as well.
“Right.” Macaque said, “Okay. All done.”
Wukong was silent for a few more moments, before he shook his head, snapping himself out of whatever funk he’d been in, smirking up at Macaque.
“Do I not even get a mirror to make sure you didn’t horrifically ruin my beautiful face?”
“It can’t get more ruined than it already is.” Macaque bantered back, but still reached to the side and pulled a mirror out of one of the drawers Wukong had left open. “This good enough?”
Wukong made a non-commital noise as he took the mirror out of Macaque’s hands, inspecting the other’s handiwork. Macaque watched patiently as Wukong’s eyes flickered to a much brighter gold, checking to see how well the glamours held up in the face of true sight. He did a low whistle when he found he couldn’t see through it, and Macaque smirked, proud of himself.
(And no, his tail did not wag at receiving the smallest hint of praise from Wukong. It didn’t.)
“You really can’t see through this at all.” Wukong said, putting the mirror to the side, before staring at Macaque with an odd expression. The blush Macaque had almost forgotten about, hidden behind glamours as it was, started to return the longer the Monkey King stared at him. Getting slightly nervous, he started to shift from foot to foot.
“...What?” He eventually asked, “Why are you staring at me?”
“Ah- no reason.” Wukong said, breaking the eye contact, standing up, walking back over to the window. “Well- you have that whole hang out with the kid to get to, and I have to go get things ready for training, so-”
“Hold on one second-” Macaque said, once again making Wukong freeze with one leg out the window. “Just…that glamour isn’t the best. Your magic isn’t meant for it, I’ve done it as gently as I can, but the glamour itself could shatter very easily. I don’t really want to have to do this again, so try not to overdo it.”
“Please, when have I ever over done it.” Wukong laughed. Macaque leveled him with a Look he’d seen MK use when Wukong said something really stupid. Wukong winced, and, without another word, hopped down out of the window.
Macaque walked over, pulling the window shut, looking out, just barely able to see Wukong’s cloud getting further away in the distance.
It took another two hours before he realized Wukong had still taken his makeup kit.
-
“Time to wake up, buttercup!”
Was the yell that woke Macaque up in the early morning the next day, quickly followed by his blankets being torn off of him. Panicked, he jumped up, standing on his mattress in an attack position, ready to fight.
Wukong’s loud laughter snapped him out of that fast enough.
“Wh-” Macaque briefly glanced at Wukong, then at the closed (and locked) door and window. It didn’t look like either had been opened at all, so- “How did you-”
“Eh, don’t worry about it.” Wukong waved him off, stepping up onto the bed to stand in front of him, ignoring Macaque’s quiet complaint about him getting his mattress dirty with his shoes. “Anyways, I was wondering if you could maybe give my glamours just a little touch up.”
“What are you-” Macaque started, before blinking, finally seeing what he had missed in his earlier brief glance at Wukong. The blue streaks in the Monkey King’s hair had returned, and the freckles on his face were starting to reappear. “Seriously? Already?”
“It’s not my fault you didn’t clearly explain just how fragile this was.” Wukong huffed, ruffling his own hair. “The kid landing one hit was enough to make it crack. Thankfully the dust covered most of it up, so he didn’t see, but I can’t exactly fix it on my own, so.”
“I am not your personal makeup artist.” Macaque hissed, before groaning, rubbing his eye with one hand, all the tiredness that comes with waking up too early in the morning suddenly hitting him all at once. “Damn it- how fucking early is it anyways?”
“Eh, suns up.”
“That doesn’t answer my question, Wukong.”
“Anyways,” Wukong said, ignoring how Macaque was glaring at him. “Could you hurry up and fix this, please? Sandy needs me to go and hold his boat out of the water so that he can repaint the bottom.”
That brought forth the image of Wukong single handedly holding up an entire boat into Macaque’s brain, and he made a small noise, moving his hand away from his eye to cover more of his face instead as he quickly put a glamour to hide away his blush.
“Macaque? Come on, you’re not that mad that I woke you up, are you?” Wukong asked, leaning closer into Macaque’s personal space.
Well. The sooner he could get Wukong out of his house, the better.
Thinking only about wanting to get Wukong out of his room so that he could maybe get two to six more hours of sleep before actually having to start the day, Macaque quickly reached out and ran his fingers through Wukong’s hair, starting to glamour the blue streaks away.
Neither of them were expecting for Wukong to lean into the touch.
They both froze, Macaque’s fingers still in Wukong’s hair, only the tips still blue, but neither of them were paying attention as they stared at each other, Wukong with shock, Macaque with flustered confusion.
“Um.” Wukong’s eyes faded from gold to pink. Macaque tsked, pulling his hand out of Wukong’s hair, glamouring the final bits of the blue away, distracted by the colour change.
“You’re making more work for me.” He said, tired and irritated, not even bothering to tell Wukong to close his eyes as he placed a hand overtop of Wukong’s face, not caring enough to do it as slowly as he did last time, simply putting the glamour over Wukong’s face on all at once. “There, done, now leave me alone.”
“Wh- hey, there’s no way you did it that fast-” Wukong started, but got cut off as Macaque roughly shoved him back. Taken off guard, he stumbled back, tripping over one of the pillows and falling backwards off the bed. Macaque reached his hand out a few seconds too late, cringing at the sound of Wukong’s back slamming against the ground. Wukong slowly sat back up, rubbing his head, and Macaque winced as he saw that the knock against the ground had cracked the glamour again, leaving Wukong’s freckles entirely visible.
Well… It wasn’t the worst thing Wukong could be revealing about himself.
Macaque decided not to tell him.
“I can’t believe you pushed me.” Wukong said, standing up, for some reason avoiding eye contact. “Geez, if you want me out of here so bad, you could’ve just asked.”
He bent down, scooping up the blankets, gathering them into a little ball, before tossing them directly at Macaque’s head.
Macaque let out a muffled shriek as he was knocked back down onto the mattress.
By the time he managed to pull the tangle of blankets off of his head, Wukong was gone.
The window and door were still closed and locked.
“Seriously, how did he get in here…” He muttered, before fixing his blankets, laying back down on his side and pulling them over his head, letting his glamours down, the purple blush on his face now visible but slowly fading as he tried to calm himself down enough to try and get some more sleep.
In just ten minutes, his phone dinging with a new text message completely dashed that idea, and he groaned, rolling over, to see a new message from MK.
…How had the kid even gotten his phone number?
The message contained one word, “sunspots!” and a picture-
Macaque dropped his phone, his face reigniting in a purple blush that almost rivaled the gold one of the Wukong in the picture, who was trying to hide his very obvious looking freckles from the view of the camera, and, overall, succeeded in looking very cute.
There proceeded to be another ding as he got another message, a jumble of words-
And then MK was calling him.
Macaque stared at the screen for several seconds before he realized that he should maybe actually answer.
Hesitantly, he pressed the answer button.
And immediately had to lean back, his ears pressing against his head as the loud noise of arguing on the other side came through.
“Monkey King give me back my phone-”
“Macaque! I can’t believe you just let me leave like-”
“Why were you with Macaque anyways? Monkey King come on-”
“No reason- MK this is a talk for grown ups-”
“I’m 21 years old- what- did you two kiss or something??”
Macaque buried his face in his hands as Wukong’s flustered shriek made its way through the phone, before the click of the call being hung up rang through. Macaque was vaguely aware of his own tail smacking repeatedly against the side of the bed.
His phone dinged again.
~did you two actually kiss?? Monkey King won’t answer me~
Macaque was silent for a few seconds too long.
~hoLY SHIT DID YOU TWO ACTUALLY???~
Macaque grabbed his phone and quickly typed out a response before the misinformation could spread any further.
~NO!! FUCK NO- I DON’T EVEN KNOW WHERE YOU GOT THAT IDEA FROM~
~Awwww. :( i thought you’d finally acted on your crush on him~
Macaque blocked MK’s number.
-
MK found Macaque in the downtown market later that day, a hood over his head, his scarf pulled halfway up his face, keeping him almost entirely out of view as he stuck to the shadowed corners of the daily crowd, a basket of fruits and other foods he’d purchased from the vendors being carried by one arm. Slowly, MK left Pigsy’s side, sneaking up behind Macaque as quietly as he could, raising one hand, preparing to startle the monkey.
Only to get startled himself as Macaque spun around, knocking his hand away, and pointing a dagger made of shadows at MK’s throat.
“Kid!” Pigsy yelled, having noticed MK’s disappearance, and subsequently seeing MK with a knife at his throat. Macaque blinked, his ear flicking, before recognition lit up on his face, and the dagger vanished as Macaque’s position relaxed slightly, his hand moving to hold onto his other arm as Pigsy ran over to the two of them.
“You shouldn’t sneak up on people like that, bud.” Macaque said, turning to walk away, but got stopped, letting out a small choked noise as Pigsy grabbed hold of the back of his scarf.
“Not so fast.” He said, “What was that? You almost killed the kid!”
“He startled me!” Macaque protested, yelping when Pigsy pinched his arm. Waving his arm around in a way that clearly indicated he was searching for a good excuse, Macaque turned his scarf into shadows, stepping out of Pigsy’s reach, but turning around in order to be able to face him.
Pigsy glared at him.
“Being startled isn’t an excuse for pointing a knife at someone’s throat.” Pigsy said, gently grabbing onto MK’s arm and pulling him forwards to stand beside him, before resting a comforting hand on MK’s back. “Macaque, apologize to him.”
“Pigsy, it’s fine, I really did startle him-”
“I’m not apologizing for a little knife- I didn’t even cut-”
“Apologize.” Pigsy repeated, an undertone to his voice that made both Macaque and MK straighten their backs. MK relaxed slightly as Pigsy rubbed a comforting circle on his back, reassuring him that he wasn’t mad at him, but Macaque remained tense.
“...Fine.” He eventually said, crossing his arms, his basket lightly bumping into his side as he moved. “I’m….sorry.”
“Was that so hard?” Pigsy asked, and Macaque rolled his eyes, turning away again and starting to march off.
Pigsy and MK shared a look.
Within seconds, they had started walking too, matching their paces to Macaque. Macaque let out a low growl, but they ignored him, instead starting to talk to each other. Macaque kept his face in a scowl, but after a bit, his expression started to soften, as he started to tune out their conversation, focusing on getting his own shopping done, almost forgetting that the other two were there at all.
…Almost.
He was kinda forced to remember when MK bumped into his side, almost knocking him over.
“Woah- sorry!” MK said, though the slight smirk on his face made it seem like he wasn’t actually all that apologetic. “I wasn’t expecting you to slow down.”
Macaque glanced at him, and then looked away.
“What do you two want?” He finally asked, wanting to get rid of them so that he could continue his shopping in peace, thank you very much.
“Just following the Mama duck around.” MK joked, and upon the twin looks of confusion and befuddlement from both Macaque and Pigsy, laughed nervously, rubbing the back of his neck. “Sorry, had the thought and couldn’t resist making the joke. Nah, we actually want to ask you about Monkey King.”
Macaque, unprepared for the mention of Sun Wukong and the sudden resurgence of the memories of that morning, did not glamour his face in time.
“Are you- are you blushing?” MK asked, laughter in his voice, Pigsy snickering as well as the purple colour on Macaque’s face darkened. “Wow, the phone call from this morning really messed you up, huh?”
“Shut up.” Macaque hissed, putting a hand over top of his face to glamour away the blush before he could incriminate himself any further. Taking a breath to try and compose himself slightly, he opened his mouth to speak-
“Did you just glamour away your blush?” Pigsy asked, and MK startled cackling as Macaque’s shoulders involuntarily hiked up to his ears. “Oh boy, you’re a lot worse off than MK thought.”
“Than MK thoug- did he tell all of you about his stupid little theory- never- never mind.” Macaque chewed the bottom of his lip, crossing his arms again so he wouldn’t have the urge to reach for the edge of his scarf, he decided to try and change the subject. “S-so, you wanted to ask me something about Monkey King?”
“Don’t think I’m forgetting about that so easily, sir.” MK said, “That’s going on the whiteboard.”
“The what-”
“Anyways, yes! We did want to ask you something about Monkey King!” MK continued, “Mainly about his secret freckles. Which we didn’t know existed until today. And he seemed to get very mad at you specifically when we pointed out that they were visible. So, uh. What gives?”
“Oh, that.” Macaque debated for a moment on whether or not he should answer. On the one hand, Wukong would probably be pissed if he did. On the other hand, it wasn’t like the Monkey King had made him swear to a vow of silence or anything… “Okay, I’ll tell you, but you have to promise you won’t tell him that I’m the one who told you, okay? I’m not intent on getting killed again any time soon.”
Pigsy raised a concerned eyebrow at the “killed again” comment, but MK brushed past it entirely.
“Of course! My lips are sealed!!! Now tell me.”
“Right. Okay. So. You know… my glamours, right?”
“Like the one you just used to hide your blush, yes.”
“Please forget about that completely.” Macaque hissed, before coughing awkwardly. “Um, anyways, so, Wukong uses some glamours too. He was uh, doing it wrong though, so I’ve been kinda…helping him. Not that I wanted to, he practically forced my hand into it, he broke into my room early this morning and everything. I just uh. Was so tired I forgot to do the freckles?”
“You were pissed off at him for waking you up so early so you didn’t glamour away his freckles, huh.” MK surmised, and Macaque awkwardly coughed again, avoiding eye contact. “Yeah. Thought so.”
“Well- I answered the question so- you happy now? Will you finally leave me be?” Macaque asked.
Pigsy and MK shared another glance.
“Well, actually, we were going this way anyways, gotta pick up some new supplies for the noodle shop and everything, y’know?” Pigsy said, and Macaque groaned.
Two hours later, when Macaque finally managed to get home, drop his groceries on the kitchen counter, and flopped onto his couch, letting out a bone tired sigh, his phone dinged. Groaning, he rolled over, digging in his pocket to pull his phone out.
A message from MK was what greeted him.
~I have other pictures of Monkey King’s sunspots if you want them, but they come at a price.~
Macaque squinted at the screen for a solid three minutes before responding.
~....i blocked u. how did u….~
~stole your phone then returned it when i bumped into you~
Macaque blinked. He didn’t know the kid knew how to do that.
His phone dinged with another message.
~anyways, are ya gonna take the deal or what?~
Macaque had to think about it for a moment. He could take the deal, despite not knowing what it was, and possibly suffer humiliation just to get some extra pictures of Wukong with freckles. Or, he could block MK’s number again, take a nap, and not receive any pictures of Wukong.
The amount of time it took for him to make his decision was embarrassingly short.
~done deal kid~
He didn’t have the time to possibly regret his decision before MK responded.
~great!!!! I’ll call ya with the price sometime this week, but for now, here~
…And maybe, hypothetically, if Macaque spent the ensuing hour and a half giggling and purring over the photos as his tail smacked lightly against the couch, he definitely would not be telling anyone.
-
Wukong had a problem.
He paced back and forth in the hallway outside his bedroom, debating pros and cons, pausing every few minutes to turn and look in the mirror that hung on the wall beside him.
It had been 3 days since he’d last gone to Macaque to get his glamours touched up, and subsequently had accidentally revealed his freckles to MK and the others.
(He still mentally cringed at how Mei had poked his face, double checking to see that they were real, before the playful teasing started. It was all friendly and nothing was really meant by it, and it was mostly compliments anyways, but Wukong hadn’t actually been actively complimented in… a while.
Was it a bad thing that he couldn’t remember the last time he got complimented before the past week?
…Probably.
But that wasn’t the issue here).
His glamours had slipped more since then, his eyes now seemingly permanently pink, even when not flustered, small bits of burn scars starting to appear around the corners of his eyes. Three streaks of blue had made their way back into his fur, and the scar mark from where Nezha’s spear had sliced him on the cheek had returned.
Wukong looked down at the makeup kit on the table, and let out a sigh.
Bending down and opening it up, he pulled out some concealer.
It wouldn’t be the best, but it would just have to do.
…The real problem here though, was what he should do about his hair and his eyes.
He knew that hair dye and coloured eye contacts existed, but he didn’t want to risk hair dye in case he fucked his hair up further, and with how easily his eyes got irritated, there was no way in hell that he was going to be putting coloured lenses in them.
But.. he couldn’t exactly avoid MK or the others. They expected him to actually hang out with them now, if he suddenly called a bunch of rain checks, they’d definitely get suspicious, especially now since his freckles had been revealed.
Which was exactly why he wasn’t going to Macaque. The shadow monkey had already betrayed him once, letting him walk out with his freckles fully visible, what if it happened again, with something even worse this time?
He wasn’t going to risk it.
An idea striking him, Wukong turned and scrambled to his closet. He only had about 15 minutes before MK would show up to fetch him to go and hang out with the others, so he might have been rushing. Just a little.
He’d just barely managed to find what he was looking for when there was a knock on the door.
“Monkey King! I’m here!”
“Ah- coming!” Wukong called, slamming the closet door shut, wincing as the wall beside it cracked a little, he’d have to fix that later, he turned and ran out to the living room, skidding to a stop just before he accidentally ran into MK. “So what’s the plan for the day- why are you staring at me.”
“Your freckles are gone.” MK noted, and Wukong’s easy going smile twisted into a more nervous one. “Did you go visit Macaque this morning?”
“Wh- I- No, of course not! Why would I?”
“Oh- nothing. What’s with the hat?”
Wukong’s fur bristled, as he reached up and pulled the brim of the hat lower to better cover his hair and shadow his eyes.
“It’s sunny out.” He said, avoiding eye contact. “Plus, it’s just in case we go somewhere with a lot of people. I don’t really want to get swarmed because I’m the Monkey King, y’know? Popularity has some drawbacks.”
MK hummed in a tone that indicated he didn’t fully believe him, and Wukong’s nervous smile arched higher, before he walked forwards, brushing past MK, giving him a quick pat on the shoulder.
“Anyways, the others are probably waiting for us, huh? What is the plan for the day?”
MK gave him another suspicious look, but moved to fall in time with Wukong’s step as they walked down the mountain. (Wukong could summon a cloud to take the both of them down to where Sandy’s boat was waiting for them, but he didn’t want to risk the possibility of accidentally blowing his hat off. He knew MK would make note of it, but as long as he could keep the kid distracted, it should be fine, right?).
“We’re going to the arcade.” MK said, putting his arms behind his head, seemingly choosing to just be silent and observe what Wukong did. Wukong didn’t know if that was better or worse than being called out. “There’s apparently a new game system there that Mei wants to test out.”
“Neat!” Wukong said- and then started rambling about the episode of the Monkey King animated series he had watched last night. He knew that MK knew he had watched the show several times, and that MK had as well, so really there was no new information being shared, but MK had a special interest in the show, and talking about it managed to dispel some of the suspicion in MK’s eyes and replace it with a spark of energy instead. The conversation managed to last all the way down the mountain, up until they were walking onto Sandy’s boat.
“‘Sup, Monkey King!” Mei yelled, jumping over the railing to greet the two of them, picking MK up in a hug and spinning him, before moving to do the same to Wukong. Ever since the dragon had accidentally found out about how touch-starved the Monkey King was (in a situation Wukong really didn’t want to think about but had involved Sandy surprising him with a hair ruffle and maybe a small amount of crying), she had made it a point to give him just as much affection as she gave MK.
Which of course, meant, in this situation, picking him up and spinning him around.
Wukong’s arms, pinned to his side by Mei’s own arms, didn’t even get the chance to move up to make sure the hat stayed in place.
Wukong tensed as the wind blew through his hair, out of the corner of his eye being able to see Sandy catch his hat with one hand. Mei stopped spinning, setting him down, and Wukong winced as she and MK looked over him with scrutiny.
“Are your eyes…pink?”
“Is your hair… blue?”
One of those questions was said with slightly more concern than the other. Wukong shielded his eyes from the two of them, reaching up with one hand to pull one of the streaks of blue down in front of his face so he could look at it with fake shock.
“Oh- wow, it really is blue!” He said, “Guess that colour changing spell really does work huh, the more you know!”
He brushed past the both of them and up onto the boat, gratefully taking his hat from Sandy, MK and Mei slowly following behind him, neither of them looking very impressed. Wukong was very aware that they could see through his bullshit lie, but he really didn’t want to address the subject.
…Maybe he should’ve given in and gone to Macaque that morning instead of stubbornly refusing to go see him.
Wukong walked over to lean against the railing of the ship as Sandy started them off moving towards the mainland, keeping his hand on top of his hat so that it wouldn’t blow away in the winds. MK and Mei joined him, one of them standing on both sides of him. Even though he was keeping his eyes on the water, he could very much feel their twin stares analyzing him.
“...Well? Aren’t you going to explain, Mr. King?” Mei asked, after a moment, “You know that we know that your colour changing spell excuse is absolute bullshit.”
Wukong didn’t answer, his tail swinging anxiously as he continued to stare down at the waves that lapped against the side of the ship.
MK’s hand settled onto Wukong’s shoulder.
“Monkey King.” He started, the incredibly serious tone to his voice making Wukong’s muscles visibly tense. “If you don’t tell us what’s up right now, I’m going to throw you off of this boat.”
The grip of MK’s hand strengthened, and Wukong was very aware of the fact that, even though MK tended to joke to lighten up serious moments, his successor was one hundred percent going to throw him off of the ship if he didn’t say something now.
“You seriously don’t need to worry about it kid-” Wukong cut himself off with a strangled noise as MK started to adjust his stance. “Wait- WAIT okay alright I’ll talk about it do not throw me off the boat I sink-”
MK’s stance relaxed slightly, but his hand remained on Wukong’s shoulder. On his other side, Mei snickered at his reaction, and Wukong tilted his head to glare at her, though it didn’t do much. The dragon girl wasn’t affected by Wukong’s attempts at intimidation at all.
“Well Mr. King? Go on.” She said, “Explain the pink eyes.”
“To be honest I’m more concerned about the blue hair.” MK said.
They both stared at Wukong expectedly.
Wukong pulled the brim of his hat down to shield his face from view.
“The pink eyes are natural… kinda. The blue streaks are…not.” He muttered. After a few seconds of silence, MK poked him in the side, prompting him to continue. Wukong pulled the hat down lower. “My eyes are… red. Being… possessed had…side effects…”
Both MK and Mei gave a shiver at the memory of Wukong being possessed, and Wukong cringed, slouching down a little. MK’s grip on his shoulder changed from jokingly threatening to comforting as he felt Wukong’s movement. Mei’s hand gently found it’s place on Wukong’s other shoulder, a soft warmth radiating off of it. Faintly, Wukong could hear Sandy start humming some song or other. He had no idea if the river demon was able to hear their current conversation, but the small song was somehow reassuring.
He let out a breath, relaxing slightly.
“...If your eyes are red, why are they pink now?” Mei asked, and Wukong tensed back up again.
“It’s because of the glamour right?” MK said, and Wukong lifted his head to look at him in shock.
“How did you know about-”
“Uh, lucky guess!” MK removed his hand from Wukong’s shoulder as he waved both arms around in a sort of nervous gesture that Wukong couldn’t help but feel was familiar. “But- yeah, you wear a glamour, right? It’s because it’s slipping a little that things are starting to come through.”
Well. MK was right, and Wukong let him know as such. But still… how did he know? Wukong had never brought up glamours around him before, and, even though he knew MK had read most of his legends and watched most adaptations of his story, his successor had never brought up glamours before either, not even to ask about learning how to do them.
Grip tightening against the railing, Wukong went back through the events of the past few days, trying to think of a moment where he might have slipped up-
“Did you go visit Macaque this morning?”
Wukong blinked, remembering MK’s comment when he’d first seen him.
Then slowly, he turned back to MK, who had started mimicking his position of leaning against the railing as he was conversing with Mei over top of Wukong’s head.
“MK.” He said, interrupting him mid-sentence about… some arcade game. Wukong hadn’t been paying attention. “Have you talked with Macaque recently?”
“What? No.” MK quickly denied, before leaning forwards, crossing his arms against his chest as he smirked. “Are you wearing makeup just to hide your freckles?”
Taken off guard by the sudden change in subject, Wukong leaned away, bumping into Mei, who took the opportunity to reach up and steal his hat away again. Startled, Wukong tried to lean backwards even further in an attempt to grab his hat again, and ended up losing his balance, flailing, Mei barely managing to step out of the way in time as he slammed down onto the deck, the breath getting knocked out of him from the shock. Mei knelt down beside him, observing his face, before licking her thumb and rubbing it against his cheek, Wukong still too shocked to even think of stopping her. She let out a hum, looking at where the makeup had smudged.
“Looks like you’re right MK, he is covering up his freckles.” She noted, and Wukong snapped back to reality as they both snickered. Growling, he pulled himself back up to stand, stubbornly refusing to look at either of them.
“Oh c’mon Monkey King, it’s just freckles.” MK said, placing an arm around Wukong’s shoulders. “It’s not like you’re hiding anything else, right?”
Wukong remained silent.
“...Right? Monkey King?”
Wukong continued to avoid both MK and Mei’s gazes, seeing the city start to appear on the horizon, estimating that they’d be about another 10 minutes before they’d pull into the docks. The wind felt nice blowing in his hair, and he debated how he would convince Mei to give him his hat back once they arrived on dry land, continuing to ignore the two friends as they continued to badger him about the makeup he was wearing.
…MK’s arm over his shoulders shifted.
And that was the only warning Wukong got before MK was tossing him into the water.
He was fished out by Mei before he could sink too far, but that didn’t stop the damage from being done.
Macaque’s makeup was not waterproof.
Shaking the water out of his fur, glaring at the two of them as he wrung water out of his clothes (Sandy assured him with a yell from his position of steering the boat that he had an extra set of clothes that would probably fit him in a box somewhere), it took the fact that neither MK nor Mei were laughing for Wukong to remember that little fact.
He moved his hand to cover the scar on his cheek.
He forgot about the burn marks around his eyes though.
“Did…. did I do that?” Mei asked, and it took Wukong almost a moment too long to realize what she was talking about as she shrank away from him and MK, taking a small step backwards. MK reached out to grab her hand before she could take another step back, running his thumb over her fingers reassuringly.
“Wh- no! This? No!” Wukong paused for a moment, trying to figure out how best to explain it. “These are from- they’re older, they’re-”
“From the furnace, right?” MK said, sounding a little bit resigned, even as Mei relaxed a bit more beside him. “The one you were trapped in?”
“Yeah. That.” Wukong said, fidgeting his hands, his tail swinging as a nervous smile appeared on his face. “Look, can we just…drop this conversation for now? Yeah, yes, let’s not talk about this, I’m going to go get some new clothes-”
Wukong walked off to go inside the ship, Mei and MK moving to the side to let him walk by.
“Don’t think we’re going to forget about this!” MK called, “If you’re hiding more stuff under those glamours, you should just tell us!”
Wukong winced.
The way Mei had backed away in fear at his appearance and at herself just moments before replayed in his mind as he remembered the more recent singe marks throughout his fur.
No. He wouldn’t be telling them about it anytime soon if he could help it.
For their sake. Not his.
-
It was barely another 3 days before Wukong encountered his next dilemma. More blue streaks had started showing through, which MK had thankfully not commented on when he came over for training. The cut through his eyebrow was starting to come through, although as of right now it simply looked like the hair there was thinning.
Wukong wasn’t deeply concerned with these. Not really. MK and the others already knew about them, for the most part. He definitely didn’t spend a lot of the previous night laying in his hammock, completely awake, worrying about it.
Definitely not.
…His red eyes had finally broken through the glamours, leaving them no longer pink. He wasn’t sure if the others had noticed that. Like with the other blue streaks appearing in his hair, there had been no comment about it.
He would admit he was a little worried about his eyes. People had called them scary before. Including Tripitaka. He’d started glamouring them to a softer gold for a reason, after all.
That wasn’t Wukong’s dilemma though.
Or, well, it was still part of it. But it wasn’t the biggest problem.
No, the biggest problem lay in the fact that when he had woken up that morning, he had discovered that the glamours over the singe marks in his fur were starting to break.
Wukong absolutely could not let the others see those marks.
He couldn’t.
He wouldn’t.
Standing in front of the mirror, Wukong let out a breath.
Carefully, he reached for his hair, trying to replicate the way Macaque had ran his fingers through it, bending the strings of magic to glamour away the burn marks. Vividly, the memory of leaning into Macaque’s touch came back into his mind, and he huffed, feeling flustered, choosing to ruffle his hair around instead of actually glamouring it, leaving his hair looking somewhat a mess.
Closing his eyes, Wukong tried to reapply his glamours the way he used to.
Something pulled, and Wukong let out a hiss, feeling like he’d just pulled a muscle. He dropped the glamours quickly, letting out a sigh of defeat.
There were no doubts about it then. He’d have to go visit Macaque soon, preferably before the next time MK came around for training.
Speaking of MK, Wukong’s phone picked that time to ding with a text message. Wukong reached over to pick it up, swiping it open to his messages, reading what MK had sent him.
And then he stiffened, still like a stone, his phone falling out of his hands, thankfully landing in the full laundry hamper instead of on the hard floor.
Screw seeing Macaque “soon”. He needed to see Macaque now.
Grabbing some looser clothes, pulling them on quickly, not caring that he still looked like a mess, Wukong grabbed his phone with his tail, leaping out his bathroom window, summoning his cloud and zooming to Macaque’s dojo, the wind rustling his hair, making his eyes water as it stung slightly, but he didn’t give himself a break to stop and rub them.
He barely avoided crashing through Macaque’s roof, only just remembering to stop in time and land gently so as to not create a hole. Walking over to the side of the roof, he carefully clambered until he was dangling upside down outside of Macaque’s window.
It was after eleven, so Macaque was sure to be up.
Wukong tried to push the window open.
…It made a clicking noise, and didn’t budge.
Locked.
Sun Wukong did not currently have time for locks.
He swung back, letting go of the rail he’d been dangling off of, spinning in mid air-
And slamming back, kicking Macaque’s window open.
There was a loud yell from inside the room, and Wukong winced, aware of the fact he’d probably just scared Macaque half to death, but this was important.
“Wukong- what the fuck! Why are you-” Macaque started, but Wukong cut him off, quickly walking over the shards of broken glass to grab hold of Macaque’s arms and stare directly into his eyes. “Hey- not so close-”
“Macaque. I need… your help.” Wukong forced out, before registering how close he’d put Macaque’s face to his, and immediately stepped back again, distracting himself and hiding the golden blush that had appeared on his face by starting to pull up the loose shirt he had quickly adorned before flying over, pulling it over his head.
Macaque let out a strangled sort of noise, but Wukong ignored it, instead fighting with the fabric as it got stuck for a moment on the back of his head, before he finally managed to pull it off. Letting the shirt fall to the floor below him, Wukong shook his hair out of his face, before finally looking back at Macaque, who was covering his own face with one hand.
“...Why are you doing that?” Wukong asked, and Macaque’s fur bristled as his hand fell down to rest by his side.
“No reason. Why did you take your stupid shirt off?” Macaque said, and Wukong refocused on the issue at hand.
“MK invited me to a pool party!” Wukong said, distress in his voice as he grabbed his phone out of his tail’s grip and shoved it into Macaque’s face, showing the invite in question. Macaque pushed the phone out of his face, leaning back.
“Congrats. That doesn’t explain shit.”
“Well look at me!”
Macaque, who up till this point had been solely making eye contact with Wukong, stumbled a bit as he took a step back, looking Wukong up and down before looking away. Clearly, he wasn’t getting the point.
The point of course, being that Wukong’s body was covered in scars. Scars he absolutely did not want the kid and the others to see.
Scars that Macaque was now currently very much avoiding looking at.
Wukong walked back over to him, grabbing hold of his wrist.
“Macaque, I need you to glamour me.”
Macaque startled again at that, finally meeting Wukong’s eyes again. He opened his mouth, and Wukong immediately knew that a “no” was coming.
He couldn’t afford “no”.
“Please, Macaque.” He said, making Macaque pause in the middle of forming words. “I can’t- they can’t know. They can’t.”
Macaque stared at him for an uncomfortably long minute, eventually breaking eye contact as he looked away with a sigh.
“Fine.” He said, “But you will be paying to fix my window.”
Wukong nodded, and then turned, walking over to Macaque’s bed, climbing up to kneel on it, wanting a comfortable place to rest, Macaque following him hesitantly.
“By the way.” Wukong said, making Macaque jump a little as he looked at him. “Did you tell MK about this whole glamouring thing?”
“What?! Of course not.” Macaque rubbed the back of his neck, avoiding eye contact. “I wouldn’t betray your trust like that.”
“Yes you would. Absolutely you would.” Wukong sighed, “How much did you tell him?”
“...Not much. Just that I was doing your glamours for you.” Macaque mumbled, then reached his hands out to hover over Wukong’s chest, before he pulled them back, rubbing at his wrists.
“WhEre-” His voice squeaked, and he coughed before trying to speak again. “Where do you want me to start?”
“...Scars first.” Wukong whispered, “Please.”
Nobody had ever looked at Wukong’s scars before, much less touched them. And considering how Macaque had glamoured away the marks on his face…
Macaque nodded, pausing for a moment to grip the edge of his scarf, bringing it up to his mouth to chew on it, hesitantly looking at Wukong out of the corner of his eyes as he did so, but Wukong made no comment about it, instead staring up at the ceiling, leaving Macaque to do his job however he wanted.
-
Macaque stared at the scars and marks that littered Wukong’s body, chewing thoughtfully as he decided which one to glamour first.
Carefully, he placed his hand over top of one that looked more recent, over top of Wukong’s stomach and side. It looked like it hadn’t healed properly the first time, or like it had been reopened by another fight. Or multiple other fights. In fact, it almost looked like it was still healing.
Macaque had a vague memory of kicking Wukong there when he attacked the airship.
Well… there wasn't much he could do about that now. His time of working under the Lady Bone Demon’s ivory chains was long over.
He moved his hands gently over top of the scars covering the rest of Wukong’s front, desperately focusing only on his task instead of the actual visuals in front of him, glad that Wukong had been too distracted with the fabric of his shirt getting stuck than to notice the blush that had ignited on Macaque’s face, giving him enough time to glamour it away. Macaque kept chewing his scarf as his hands flickered over a scar that looked like it had come from a sword, his ears twitching as Wukong let out shaky breaths a few times, a wobbly smile on his face (Macaque remembered the tickle fights they had when they were younger. But they weren’t close like that anymore), before moving around to do his back as well.
Macaque paused.
There were scars on Wukong’s back too, of course. Marks from where Erlang Shen stabbed him with a spear, marks left over from where the rocks had dug into Wukong’s back during his 500 years under the crushing weight of a mountain. Macaque expected those scars.
What he hadn’t expected where the bluish-white swirls, patterns that almost looked like frost, that covered Wukong’s back, in a way that almost mirrored the markings that covered the front of Macaque’s chest, a reminder of how the Lady Bone Demon had thrown more power into him, overloading him by force, blinding his mind to everything but one thing; salvation.
Macaque looked up to stare at the back of Wukong’s head.
Did…Wukong know these markings were here?
Macaque honestly had no idea.
His hands shook for a moment, almost scared to touch the markings, they looked almost… fragile. Like they would shatter if Macaque touched them. Or worse. Like they would make ice spread across his hand again, traveling up his arm and over his chest-
“Macaque?” Wukong’s voice held a note of concern in it, and Macaque realized he’d frozen for a moment too long. “Are you okay?”
“..Fine.” Macaque muttered, voice partially muffled from the scarf still held within his mouth. Before Wukong could say anything else, Macaque’s hand made contact with the Monkey King’s back, feeling his muscles stiffen underneath of his touch.
If Macaque was a bit more gentle with glamouring those marks, well, no-one would have to know. This was their little secret after all.
The scars glamoured away, Macaque went to work glamouring the blue streaks and burn marks threaded throughout the rest of Wukong’s fur.
“You uh. You don’t need to glamour away the freckles and scars on my face.” Wukong said, when Macaque started to move his hands up there. “The kids have already seen. You can um. Leave some of the blue streaks too. I’d…still like my eyes and burn marks glamoured though.”
Macaque rolled his eyes.
“I’m not your hairstylist or something like that y’know.” He said, letting his scarf fall out of his mouth so that he could talk clearly. “I told you that before, remember?”
“Yeah yeah.” Wukong huffed, “Just making sure you don’t glamour everything away and make the other’s more suspicious than they already are.”
Macaque clicked his tongue, before moving his hand to run through Wukong’s hair to glamour away the singe marks.
Wukong leaned into the touch, which at the least, this time they both partially expected and were ready for.
This time though, they were both surprised at the soft sound of Wukong purring.
A soft purr started up in Macaque’s own throat as well at the sound, but he got rid of it by coughing, Wukong doing a similar action, almost sounding like he was choking as he coughed to cover up the sound of the purr.
They both avoided eye contact for a few seconds afterwards before Macaque went back to work.
Macaque was close to being done, the two of them starting to space out a little in their own thoughts, when the phone rang, making both of them jump, their fur standing on end. Macaque quickly reached over and picked it up, answering as fast as he could to make the ringing stop.
“Hello?”
“Macaque? Why are you answering Monkey King’s phone?”
They both realized their mistake immediately.
Wukong quickly snatched his phone out of Macaque’s hand, laughing nervously into it.
“Macaque? Sorry bud, I don’t know what you’re talking about-”
“Monkey King? Are you with Macaque right now?”
“WhAt? Noooo, of course not, I’m on Flower Fruit Mountain, as usual, why would you even think of that?”
“Because I’m at Flower Fruit Mountain, and you’re not.”
“You’re a shit liar, Wukong.” Macaque muttered as Wukong stuttered, trying to find another reasonable excuse.
“ShhhhHHhhHhh!” Wukong hissed, but the phone still managed to pick up Macaque’s voice.
“You ARE with Macaque!”
“I’m not!” Wukong insisted, “You’re just- hearing things.”
“Where are you right now?”
“I’m- on my way back to the mountain?”
“I don’t hear any wind from your somersault cloud.”
“That’s- um-”
“You’re at Macaque’s dojo aren’t you. I’m coming there.”
“I’m not- ah shit he hung up.” Wukong stared at his phone in despair, before rounding on Macaque. “This is your fault!”
“Wh- How is it my fault?!”
“You’re the one who answered the phone!”
“Yeah, to shut it up, your shrill as hell ringtone was hurting my ears!” Macaque said, rubbing his ears with a wince to drive the point home. Wukong’s glare didn’t lessen, but his next sentence was said in a significantly quieter tone of voice.
“Why didn’t you just press ignore?!”
“I don’t know- instinct??? I was startled, Wukong. Why didn’t you answer the phone?”
“I was… busy. Focusing.”
“Focusing on what, I was the one doing all the work-”
Wukong’s face flushed slightly gold, and Macaque raised an eyebrow, about to comment on it-
“Why is the window broken?” MK’s voice rang out, making both monkeys freeze, as they slowly turned to see MK crouching on the windowsill. MK looked up from the shattered glass that lay scattered all over the floor, and, upon seeing the shirtless, blushing Wukong, as well as the slightly frazzled looking Macaque next to him, both of them sitting on Macaque’s bed, raised an eyebrow. “Am I interrupting something?”
“No!” Both monkeys shouted, at the same time, Macaque going as far as to shove Wukong away from him, Wukong flailing as he fell off the bed. Again. For the second time that month. Wukong scrambled upon impact, grabbing his shirt and hurriedly pulling it over his head. The shock from the impact and the entire situation had knocked his eyes back to pink.
“Are ya sure?” MK asked, pressing his cheek against the staff as he watched the two monkeys flail. “Because I just came to get ya for the pool party, if ya want I can wait another minute or two.”
“It’s fine!” Wukong’s voice squeaked, but he ignored it. “It’s- nothing was happening! I’m ready, let’s go.”
“Ah- hold on.” Macaque’s hand reached out, gently covering Wukong’s eyes for a moment, making the Monkey King pause mid-step. Slowly, he pulled his hand back, and Wukong blinked, his eyes back to the false gold. “There you go. Have fun at your little party.”
Wukong glanced worriedly at MK to see if he had noticed the glamour being put on, but his successor was busy typing…something onto his phone. Wukong let out a small relieved sigh, and started walking over to the window, MK looking up as he heard the sound of the glass cracking under Wukong’s feet.
“Y’know, you can come too if you wanna, Macaque.” MK said, shifting to the side so Wukong could climb up onto the windowsill with him. “Party’s open to anyone who wants to come.”
“Sorry, the sun’s a bit too bright for me.” Macaque said, a teasing tone in his voice that made Wukong’s fur bristle.
“Yeah, sure, and the moon’s light keeps me up at night.” Wukong snarked back, ignoring Macaque’s tsk as he jumped out the window and onto his cloud, MK quickly joining him, flying off in the direction of the beach.
“...Monkey King?” MK said, grabbing Wukong’s attention.
“Hm?”
“Your eyes are already pink again.”
“Fuck-”
-
It had been a long time since Macaque had gone to Flower Fruit Mountain.
He’d imagined scenarios that would bring him back there multiple times, never acting on any of them, but thinking of them occasionally and how he’d react in vivid detail. Some of said scenarios involved fighting Wukong.
Some of them involved just the opposite.
But still, none of the scenarios he’s imagined had involved MK pulling in his favor from when he’d sent Macaque those pictures of Wukong’s freckles to get Macaque to come to the mountain and help clean out Wukong’s treasure vault. Apparently, the group had initially all been on Flower Fruit Mountain to play some kind of game, but had switched gears after accidentally once again stumbling upon the mess that was Wukong’s treasure room, and after a good debate with Wukong about the state of it, had decided to clean it up a little.
Macaque double checked the text message to make sure it was really real. He even went as far as to turn his phone off and on a few times.
And then he dialed MK’s number.
“Hey Macaque- Monkey King, do NOT make that pile of stuff fall down just because you think it’s funny- TANG. DON’T THINK I DON’T SEE YOU ABOUT TO STEAL THOSE FIGURINES YOUNG MAN.”
“MK I’M OLDER THAN YOU-”
“Anyways Macaque are you on your way over yet?”
It sounded like absolute chaos. Macaque did not want to go.
But… He had promised to MK’s deal. And he may not always be the best demon, but he wasn’t going to outright break this promise.
Still, Macaque didn’t outright answer, instead letting out a tired sigh before hanging up as a loud clatter and yelling started coming through the phone. Running his hands through his hair, he double checked to make sure all his glamours were up, taking a few extra seconds to try and mentally prepare himself for the absolute hell he was about to walk into.
And then he stepped forwards and down into the shadows, reappearing outside of Wukong’s house on Flower Fruit Mountain. Immediately, his ears were overwhelmed with noise, the clanging of objects falling to the floor, as well as various shouts of anger and fear. They’d probably knocked over one of Wukong’s piles of stuff.
But that wasn’t what Macaque first focused on.
Instead, what caught his attention was the pain that came with using his magic, and he collapsed to one knee, panting, having not expected the overexertion from something as small as shadow travelling. He closed his eyes as he focused on steadying his breathing, glad that he had decided to appear in front of Wukong’s house instead of the actual treasure room, so that the others weren’t seeing this pathetic display.
Finally starting to calm his breathing, feeling the magic in his chest start to settle, Macaque slowly opened his eyes.
And was faced with the fact that his hand was fading.
Panic gripping him once more, Macaque instinctively shook his hand desperately, as though shaking it would make it come back into view.
It took a few more seconds for him to start thinking slightly logically. Taking a deep breath and releasing it slowly, Macaque released the glamour around his chest. He didn’t really need it, considering the clothes he wore covered it completely, so really it was just a waste of magic. He could feel the stress on the magic in his chest lessen slightly, and slowly, scaringly slowly, his hand faded back into view.
Macaque took a few minutes to breath, calming down, and making sure no other parts of him were starting to fade from view.
He also double checked to make sure that no part of his chest and the scars upon it was visible. He may have clothes over top of it, but he couldn’t help but be a little paranoid.
Another crash from the treasure room reminded him of why he was on the mountain in the first place.
Slowly standing up- stumbling a little, slightly woozy before managing to steady himself, he straightened his back, adopting a laid back and relaxed posture, like he hadn’t almost had a panic attack. He still felt slightly on edge, and another crash from the treasure room made his ears ring, but it was fine. This was fine. He could handle this. It’d be fine.
There were no other ways that this could go wrong. Not in the slightest.
Well aware that if he continued that line of thought for any longer he’d likely end up jinxing himself, if he hadn’t done so already, Macaque walked over and quietly snuck in through the treasure room door and into a space of complete and utter chaos.
Tang was surprisingly the first to notice his quiet appearance.
Immediately, he stopped yelling, slipping out around the pile of stuff he had been partially standing behind, moving over to slide up beside the shadow monkey.
“Nice of you to join us.” He said, and Macaque raised an eyebrow at the limited edition figure held in Tang’s arms. Tang, following his gaze, shifted to hold the figure behind his back and out of view. “As you can see, things are a little…”
“Chaotic?” Macaque said, putting a small smirk on his face. Tang took a step back from him, looking at him in concern, and Macaque let the smile slip a little.
“Are you okay?” Tang asked, and Macaque tsked, knowing something in his expression must have given something away.
“Fine.” He said, turning away from Tang’s concerned gaze, and starting to walk in the direction of some random pile, trying to tune out the yelling from the rest of the group behind him. Tang seemingly made the wise decision to leave him be, as he didn’t follow.
Macaque rolled his eyes as he looked up at the large pile of magical items laying in front of him. Reaching out, he grabbed the first loose object he saw, giving it a once over, before throwing it into the circle drawn on the ground with the words “non-magical items” written on it. Apparently the others had devised some kind of sorting system before he had arrived.
He did look at some of the objects in the magical items pile in confusion, mainly the very normal looking blender, but decided he did not want to know.
Digging in deep into the pile of magic items, rummaging around, he didn’t notice the staff beside him slowly starting to slide towards him.
At least, not until it knocked him on the head.
Macaque hissed, pushing the staff away, moving his hand to his head to rub the sore spot where it had hit, before freezing.
Slowly, carefully, he pulled his hand back, studying it.
The fur there was white. A little singed, charred at the edges, but still white. Swirls of blue moved down it.
He was sure that if he took off his shirt, similar swirls of blue would be on his chest as well. Hurriedly turning, he reached into the pile for something- anything that would reflect his appearance.
Pulling out a normal, if slightly stylished, mirror, Macaque jaw dropped.
All of his glamours were down.
All of them.
Trying not to panic again, Macaque reached for his magic, trying to move the strings to reapply his glamours.
Something in his chest twinged, and, instead of glamours, the shadows around him started condensing, swirling around him.
No.
No- no! That wasn’t he wanted- His magic was already low as it is, he couldn’t afford to over-extend it anymore after what happened earlier-
Well aware that he was hyperventilating, Macaque turned back to look at the staff that hit him.
It offered no clues, sitting there innocently.
Macaque grabbed it and threw it as far away from himself as possible.
His glamours still did not return.
The shadows swirling around him were getting stronger.
One of them swung out, knocking over a pile of stuff close to him, sending the objects clattering over the floor, the sound ringing and echoing impossibly loud in the room.
Macaque fell to his knees, covering his ears in pain. His chest twinged again, and more shadows started materializing.
He had to stop. It’d be better to simply have his glamours down then to over-exhaust himself trying to put them back up. He tried to stop.
His magic twinged.
…He couldn’t stop.
H e c o u l d n ‘ t s t o p.
-
Wukong hadn’t even known Macaque was there before the blast of shadow magic hit.
It immediately shut up any and all arguments, MK grabbing onto Pigsy and Tang to stop them from getting knocked back by the blast.
“What was that?!” Mei asked, but Wukong didn’t bother to answer, hopping up and over a pile of objects, almost slipping as some of them moved underneath of his feet. He had just managed to stabilize himself when another blast of shadow magic hit, causing Wukong to have to hold his hands up to shield his face and eyes, stumbling back, before slipping, rolling down the pile. He groaned as he rolled onto the ground, pulling himself back up, raising a hand to stop the next burst of shadow magic from hitting him directly.
Distracted as he was, he didn’t even notice that the blast and the fall had knocked all of his glamours completely off.
Standing up, keeping one hand up to shield himself from the uncontrolled magic, his red eyes flickered a bright gold as he tried to assess the situation.
He could see Macaque in the eye of the storm, and a flash of anger, of betrayal, rang through him for a moment, before it quieted.
Something was wrong.
Macaque was kneeling on the ground, his hands covering his ears, curling slightly in pain. His magic bursting uncontrollably, beating like a frantic heartbeat.
…He was crying.
“Macaque?” Wukong called, taking a cautious step forward, the force of Macaque’s magic making it feel like walking through gale force winds. “Mango? Plum? Liu Er?”
Macaque didn’t react to any of those names.
Wukong kept walking forwards, his steps almost seeming to echo as he pushed himself through the shadow magic, having to shield his eyes at every burst. But he didn’t stop.
Macaque needed him now, and Wukong wasn’t going to abandon him again.
Gritting his teeth, the magic lashing against him starting to sting, forged forwards, reaching out his arm, practically walking blind as the magic made his eyes water and his vision blur.
His hand grasped onto Macaque’s scarf, and he felt the shadow monkey gasp as Wukong immediately surged the rest of the way forwards, collapsing to his knees and wrapping his arms around him. Macaque continued to let out heaving breaths, practically hyperventilating, but the shadows stopped lashing around, slowly withdrawing into nothing, an eerie sense of calm replacing it.
Macaque’s hands shook, before they started clinging to Wukong’s shirt.
Or, well, they tried to.
Instead, they simply passed through the fabric.
Wukong shivered at the cold sensation, and Macaque’s breath picked up, still panicking, as Wukong glanced down to see that Macaque’s hands and arms were going wispy, fading in and out. For a moment he just stared at it in disbelief, before looking back up and seeing Macaque’s panicked face, registering that this was real, and that this was not good.
Both of the monkeys panicking, neither of them were capable of saying any words, Wukong flailing around for a solution while Macaque started curling up again. Wukong’s eyes flickered gold again, as he scoured the piles of stuff in his immediate area, letting out a small noise of distress when he couldn’t find anything. He looked back at Macaque with a sense of fear filling him.
He was going to lose him.
He was going to lose his friend again. And this time, there wasn’t anything or anyone that could interfere and bring him back.
Wukong looked over Macaque again, completely ignorant to how the other’s glamours were down due to the fact that he was now well aware that this could be the last time he saw him. Ever. For the rest of his immortal life. Which he honestly wasn’t sure would ever possibly end.
This could be the last time he sees Macaque forever.
No.
No, he couldn’t allow that.
He’d only just started getting his Macaque back, he couldn’t afford to lose him so soon.
Taking a breath as the wispiness spread from Macaque’s hands to his elbows, Wukong reactivated his true sight, analyzing Macaque again.
The ball of magic in Macaque’s chest was wavering, unstable, unsteady, weak.
Well. If it was magic that Macaque needed, then Wukong just needed to find some way to feed magic to him.
…He had absolutely no idea how to do that.
He was sure there was some spell or something for it, but Wukong had never had to give his magic to somebody before. Sure, he’d had to seal magic, but never give it. He was pretty sure they were two very different processes.
Macaque’s upper arms started to fade, and the shadow monkey let out a small whimper, making Wukong refocus.
Well, if he had no other choice, then he had no other choice.
Face flushing gold at the thought of what he was about to do, Wukong grabbed hold of Macaque’s shoulders, and, before he could think better of it, closed his eyes, leaned forwards, and kissed him.
Macaque’s fur bristled, and he opened his mouth in a gasp, and Wukong pressed closer against him, biting Macaque’s bottom lip gently so that his mouth would stay open, willing his magic to somehow travel to the other.
Something in him shifted, a tear running down his face as his magic reached out towards Macaque.
A line of golden ichor dripped out of the corner of their mouths and down Macaque’s chin, falling to the floor.
Macaque swallowed instinctively.
Wukong felt something shift, and he leaned back, wiping the back of his mouth as he stared at Macaque, whose face had flushed a deep purple. Macaque’s arms and legs slowly faded back into view, and Wukong let out a sigh of relief. A soft golden light glowed through the clothes on Macaque’s chest, and Wukong gently reached out to touch it, feeling the steady hum as Macaque’s magic greedily accepted Wukong’s, merging and twisting it to match itself, stabilizing.
The glow slowly faded away, leaving Wukong to only feel Macaque’s still heaving breaths. Carefully, Wukong started rubbing comforting circles on Macaque’s chest, and then, after a few moments of that didn’t seem to help, wrapped his tail around Macaque’s waist, lifting him up, before adjusting his position so that he could hold Macaque in his lap. Macaque let out a small squeak as he was lifted, and Wukong resisted the urge to smirk, now that the danger was past. He rubbed soft circles on Macaque’s back, breathing slowly, secretly calming himself down as well as Macaque matched his breathing to his.
They sat there, in complete silence for a few minutes, neither of them saying a word. Macaque seemingly lost in his own thoughts and Wukong just staring at him silently, not wanting to say anything in case he startled Macaque into panicking again. That was the last thing he wanted right now.
Eventually, the fact he wasn’t fading away anymore finally seemed to register in Macaque’s mind as he stared down at his hands in awe, turning them over, like he expected them to start going wispy again at any moment. Then he brought them gently to his chest, taking a deep breath in and slowly letting it out, his good eye flickering purple, the glamour over his scar reappearing, hiding it from view.
Wukong gently reached out and touched Macaque’s face, rubbing the glamour away. Macaque jumped a little, somehow having forgotten through all this that he was sitting on Wukong’s lap.
And then, as soon as the realization came to him, he was squirming, trying to get out of Wukong’s grip.
“Let go- I can’t believe you just- Gah!” Macaque yelped when Wukong wrapped his arms tighter around him, squeezing him a little. “H-hey!”
Wukong didn’t say anything, simply resting his forehead against Macaque’s.
“I thought I was going to lose you again.” He whispered, gently, and he felt Macaque’s surprised exhale ghost over his lips. “I don’t want to lose you again, Liu Er.”
Macaque’s next breath was slightly shaky, as he reached up to put his hands on top of Wukong’s shoulders.
“Please.” He said, trying to smirk. “You’re not getting rid of me anytime soon. I’ve made it my life’s goal to haunt the shit out of you. Plus this whole living thing has been treating me rather well, so, yeah. Plus, how could I ever leave a world where I get to stare at your face every day?”
Wukong hummed, well aware that he was blushing gold again, a soft purr forming in his throat, but it was nothing compared to the way the purple blush on Macaque’s face burned, spreading to his ears as he realized what exactly he had said.
“I- and by that I mean- well- I, don’t take what I just said in a positive way you know!” He said, a flustered purr, louder than Wukong’s soft one, starting up in his throat as he kept talking. “I meant it in a- in a bad way- your face makes me so mad I couldn’t bear to leave a world where I haven't punched it-”
“Mhm, yeah, sure.” Wukong chuckled, amused, rubbing his forehead gently against Macaque’s as the other let out a frustrated huff. “And I could never afford to lose my best makeup artist.”
Macaque blinked, processing the sentence, before frowning.
“You’re meant to say best friend you dumbass- I’ve told you I’m not your makeup artist.”
“I know. I do mean it though. I wouldn’t want to lose one of my most important treasures in the room meant to keep my treasure safe, after all.” Wukong said.
Macaque let out a flustered sound, finally leaning back from Wukong, having lost their small bantering game, covering his face with his hands. Wukong clicked his tongue.
“You know.” He said, reaching out and grabbing hold of Macaque’s wrists to pull his hands down. “We really should cover everything with this, I might not have given you enough magic just now. So, unless you say it’s not necessary…what if I give you more to make sure?”
They both knew full well that Wukong had given him enough magic.
Still, Macaque, greedy as he was, nodded his head.
Wukong let go of one of Macaque’s wrists to gently cup Macaque’s cheek before he was leaning in, kissing him again.
-
Laying down on top of one of the treasure piles, observing the two monkeys, the others glanced at MK as he hummed with contemplation.
“First of all, I called it.”
Everyone gave quiet sounds of agreement, Tang going as far as to hand MK a small wad of money. MK pocketed it, before continuing.
“...Secondly, do you think they know we’re still here?”
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So this is normally where I would go ahead and format one of my typical posts and show you the pics of me on top of the peaks I did: Chairback, Number Three, Number Four (yes those are the official names of those mountains), Barren, Big Moose, Couburn, Boundary Bald, and Kibby - all peaks in Maine that I did and got a photo of me with a trans pride flag at the top
Unfortunately, at the end of my trip up Kibby, I lost my phone, and since I hadn't backed up any of the photos from those 8 peaks, I can't do one of my normal posts. I could bombard y'all with details from that, and how it affected what peaks I've been able to do over the last month (yes this happened a month ago, my posts are SUPER backlogged), but honestly it kind of feels like a moot point
Suffice to say, this kinda fucking sucks. I put a lot of my time and energy into these projects of mine and whenever something like this does happen (very similar thing happened last year), it kind of feels like I wasted that time and energy
Buuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuut
This does give me a good opportunity to share a trip I did a wee bit ago that I never posted about! Back in December I went on a backpacking trip with some friends to west Texas with the intention of hiking Guadalupe and Emory, the tallest and most prominent peaks in the state respectively. We were able to hit Emory, but on the day we were supposed to do Guadalupe, a winter storm rolled in and no one had brought their winter hiking gear, so we had to bail on that
Honestly, I don't know why I never posted anywhere about this, I guess it just felt like anything I posted would feel incomplete to me since I only accomplished half of my intended goal, even though it's a *very* common thing in hiking/climbing to have to abandon your original goals and either adapt to new ones or, bail on your trip entirely
Anyhow, if y'all will excuse the dramatic change in tone, landscape and appearance, here's some pictures of me with a trans pride flag on the most prominent peak in Texas :)
And I have more nature photos to go along with that!
Anyhow, thanks for reading this far :)
#lol flag time#lol why did I NEVER post this#'twas a great trip#trans#trans pride#transgender#transgender pride#queer#queer pride#pride flag#lgbtq#lgbtq pride#lgbt pride#lgbtqia#hiking#nature#texas
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Look In My Bottom Drawer
(images above are from Pinterest)
Blog Details | Let's take a trip
Eddie Munson x a Black!fem!reader
a/n: holy shit, it's been almost 3 months since i've posted. how's everyone doing? sorry for the disappearance. i had some issues with my university that left me unmotivated. i got everything fixed but now i'm on my period with a sprained knee, so enjoy an old draft.
warning(s): cussing, sort of proofread, fluff, self-indulgent, format is weird because i turned this in as an assignment back in April
word count: 3.4k
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Does he even like black girls? I mean he isn’t racist, nor does he seem to have a preference. I don’t know, it’s just that sometimes it feels like I shouldn’t even try. People would probably look at us weird considering we’re in Hawkins fucking Indiana and it’s 1985. If I keep staring in the mirror with existential dread I’m gonna be late for school. Not if I speed… Let me get up.
I look in the mirror one last time. I take the last perm rod out and fluff my hair a little. I already know the humidity is going to fuck up my hair, but nothing I can really do about it, but put a scrunchie on. I’m gonna get judged for my outfit, but so be it. I’m always judged for my outfits because it isn’t como se dice what’s in right now. I mean tennis skirts have been in since the 20s, but this top I actually made myself. It’s a lilac long sleeve (Yes, I know it’s 87 degrees outside. Shut up.), but it doesn’t button or anything. You put it on like a sweater and then there are two ties in the front. One right above my bust and another one right below my bust. It shows enough of my boobs to consider me a whore, but not enough to get me dress coded. I slipped on my Vans that I usually only wear to skateboard, but I’m running out of time, and they were the closest. My socks are a bit thick, but that’s a problem for a later time.
This backpack is heavier today, I swear. I took shit out and it’s still heavy. Whatever I don’t need I’ll just throw in my locker. I step outside and the heat is already blazing. Do I regret my shirt choice? No. Am I hot as hell? Yes. Oh well. I look at my baby. My pride and joy. My 1983 Audi Quattro that I spent for fucking ever saving up for. I get in and put my bag in the passenger seat. I probably should’ve turned the AC on before I got in the car. Better late than never. I bring my wrist closer to my face and sternly stare at my watch. I have ten minutes to get to a school that’s fifteen minutes away. About to Back to the Future this shit.
Okay, so I don’t actually end up going 88, but I do go a good 50 in a 30. Luckily no police are around. I still can’t believe the DMV let me get my license. I think I ran probably like three curbs. I take another quick look at my watch and see I have four minutes left. Good thing the school is finally in view. You would think I’d managed my time better since I’m a senior, but old habits die hard I guess. I’m about to pull in when Eddie’s van zips in front of me and gets in first. Fucking asshole. I pull in right after him and hurry and park. It’s not the best parking job but fuck it. I take my keys out and hurriedly grab my bag. As I’m locking the door I hear Eddie get out too. Any other time I’d sneak a glance at him, but I have two minutes to get to class and I don’t feel like hearing any of Mrs. Brown’s shit. I start jogging toward the doors when I hear Eddie’s voice.
“Sorry about that, princess,” He yells to me. Nothing but humor is detected in his tone, so I just flip him off and continue to pick up my pace.
-.-.-.-
Made it to class with one minute to spare. I still got the “You were almost late. I expect more from you” look as I walked to my seat, but that I could deal with. Whoever gave me Trig at the beginning of the day must have it out for me. How am I supposed to focus on quadratic formulas at the ass crack of dawn? This blows. It doesn’t help that Mrs. Brown’s voice drones on and on. I decided to just doodle in the back of my notebook And by doodle I mean to write “Mrs. Eddie Maguire” in different fonts. Corny, I know, but doesn’t hurt to dream, right? I mean, he doesn’t really seem like the marriage type, to be honest. I’m buggin’. I wish I didn’t think about him all the time. Let’s start, now.
College. What are we doing? I applied to Lincoln. The one in Missouri though because the one in Pennsylvania was just a bit too far. I could’ve chosen an HBCU that was closer to home like Central State in Ohio or Simmons College in Kentucky, but neither appealed to me. Lincoln is a small school and everyone that I’ve talked to in administration was nice. It’s also pretty affordable considering I’m an out-of-state student. God, I hope I get accepted.
I continue switching topics until the bell rings. I’m usually the first one out, but since I came in late I’m in the very back and therefore the last to leave. I made sure to put my headphones on, so I could escape anybody that tries to talk to me. I also got Tears for Fears’ new album on cassette so I figured I could just listen to it all day since I don’t pay attention in my classes much anyway. I do however pay attention enough to remember that I have every class with Eddie after 1st period. There goes my streak of not thinking about him. Not like he shows up anyway.
-.-.-.-
I should’ve knocked on wood. Why the fuck did he show up? I’m sitting in the left corner in the back when I see him stroll through the door. I tuck my head into my elbow and face toward the wall.
“Hey princess.” You’ve gotta be kidding me. “I really am sorry for cutting you off earlier.”
I roll my eyes before sitting up and looking at him. Maybe he was being sincere. I look into his eyes until I’m satisfied with my decision.
“Sorry for flipping you off. I was just running late and was really irritated. I woke up late and then my curls weren’t coming out how I wanted them to, so I took most of that anger out on you.” He nods his head in understanding before turning to the front. I take out my notebook and continue my drawing of Marvin the Martian. I’m testing out what designs I want to put on my board. I kind of just have a hodge-podge of shit on it so it looks messy. Probably just gonna clear the whole thing and start over.
“We match.” A whisper says from beside me.
“What?”
“Our hair. It matches.” He says a little louder. I take a look at his hair and sure enough, it’s pretty similar. I give him a quick smile before going back to my doodling. I turn the page and facing me is the name “Maguire” in Metallica font. I try to turn the page but hear a whispered “holy shit!” as I’m in a half turn.
“Was that my name?”
“What? No.” I say in a completely obvious tone. I hurriedly turn to the next page and tell me why it’s a page that has “Eddie” in big font across the middle with hearts surrounding it. I just close the notebook and look up front.
-.-.-
He’s staring at me. He’s been staring at me for the past 45 minutes. I slipped my headphones back on about 40 minutes ago, but that didn’t deter him. I wish he would just say what he wants. Right then, a note makes its way in front of me.
“Do you like me? Yes or no.”
It takes everything in me not to chuckle out loud. I respond by writing, “Are we in middle school?” and tossing it back on his desk. At this point, I’m just watching the clock which is like watching a pot of water boil. Just a few more minutes. The paper lands in front of me again. “Depends. Yes, if that means you’ll answer the question.” I roll my eyes at his answer. The bell rings and I get up fast. With the note tossed in some random page of my notebook, I walk out the door and to my locker. I hopefully lost him in the crowd. I’m so thankful that my locker is nowhere near his. My lock decides to be on my side today and the combination works on the first try. For once my locker is actually decent, so I take unnecessary books out of my bag and add them to any empty space. I look through the notebook I had last period and find the note. I take the pencil that was in the spiral part and circle yes. A defeated sigh escapes my lips as I toss the note in the locker too.
“Hey Kendrick.” With the smuggest fucking face. I bring my headphones down to their original place around my neck.
“Yes, stalker?” I respond while walking towards our next class. His arm wraps around my shoulder which makes me smile internally.
“You gonna answer my question?” I stop on the side of the hallway so as not to be in anyone’s way. I look deep into his eyes. I hate the height advantage he has over me. I scrunch my face as if I’m thinking. I know the answer though. It’s been the same answer for years.
“Yes,” I respond with a smirk before continuing my way to class. Luckily it's study hall which doubles as lunch, but there are five shifts and ours is shift four which isn’t for about an hour. I walk in and it completely slipped my mind that the desks are doubles. The seat next to mine is usually empty since I don’t really mess with anyone like that at this school.
Right on cue, as soon as I sit down, Eddie pulls into the chair right next to mine.
“Yes you’ll answer my question or yes you like me?” A smirk pulls at the corner of my lips, and I put my headphones back on. I’m putting up the hugest front right now but in all actuality, my heart is beating so hard that I hear it in my ears and feel like it’s about to burst out of my chest. A sheet of sweat keeps reappearing on my forehead no matter how many times I wipe it off. I’m messing around by not giving him an answer because I don’t know if his question has good intentions.
He pulls my headphones off, and I look at him as if he committed a federal offense.
“I like you if that helps influence your definite decision or not.” I feel my heart stop. I never thought I’d hear him say those words.
“You still deal?” I ask after turning my full attention towards him.
“Depends on who’s asking.” I give him a pointed look and roll my eyes. “Yes, princess, I still deal. You lookin’ in the market?”
“Depends on how much you’re charging nowadays.”
“For you? A date.” I laugh at his pure corniness.
“I don’t think Rick will appreciate not getting his profits.”
“I’ll overcharge some freshmen. So, what do you say?” I smile and nod my head at him.
-.-.-.-.-
After that moment, the day went by pretty fast. Eddie didn’t bother me as much, but I would catch him staring at me a lot more. I basked in the attention but feigned to be oblivious. The only time I got true peace was when we went to lunch and that’s only because when he went to the cafeteria, I went to the library. You’re counted as truant if you’re caught, but the librarian and I are cool since I’m in here every day and treat her like an actual human being.
As I walk out of the classroom, I don’t even get a moment to blink before Eddie has my hand in his and we start walking the halls. I look around and see a few people giving us questioning glances. I stiffen up my hand before slipping out of his grip, becoming paranoid. Hawkins is probably one of the least racist cities, but I can’t help but still feel nervous. We finally make it outside and we move over to the sidewalk.
“My place or yours?” Eddie asks me with a look on his face that I can’t decipher.
“We can go to mine. Parents are gone for the weekend, so we can play house.” I say while trying to lighten the mood.
He agrees and we decide to just take our own vehicles and meet at my house. Not to save face or anything. Just so we can both still have our cars instead of driving all the way back up here to get our shit. It also gives me time to calm myself down before spending more time with him. I don’t even have my seatbelt on before I’m zipping out of the parking lot. No music, no nothing. I just want to get home before Eddie. I’m zipping in and out of traffic and skillfully dodging the cops, so I don’t get another speeding ticket. Can you believe they give speeding tickets in this small town? It’s some bullshit. Feels racially motivated. Let me shut up.
The drive goes by faster than this morning. I don’t even both parking straight as I turn off the car and rush to unlock the door. I toe off my shoes by the door and look around. Everything seems to be in order. I should probably have something cooking, right? I mean, we’re usually fine just ordering pizza. But we have food in the house. But pizza is good. But you already spent your paycheck on hair products…
I walk over to the fridge and see some leftover chicken alfredo that I completely forgot I made. I take it out and place it on the counter. Now, where did I put that casserole dish at? As soon as I find it, I dump the pasta in. Shit, I forgot to preheat the oven. I turn the dial and then hear a knock on the door. I didn’t even get a chance to check my room to see if it was decently clean enough or not. I yell “one sec” before taking off toward the door.
“Hey,” I say before turning back around and walking back to the kitchen. I grab a spoon and make sure that everything is out of the container and into the pan. I open the fridge and look for the shredded mozzarella. I put an even layer on top of the pasta and carefully put it in the oven. I’ve never really done it this way, but I’ve seen it in cookbooks so why not? Okay, timer, timer, where did I put it? I look around the kitchen and see Eddie standing in the doorway, holding the timer.
“Aw, look at my wife making food for me after I’ve had a long day at work.” I roll my eyes and walk over and grab the timer from him. I set it for fifteen minutes. I also set a mental note to sporadically check it, because some part of me tells me that that’s too long for it to be in the oven.
“I’m sorry I didn’t have it ready before you got here. I was just cleaning away and thinking of my dear husband and the time got away from me.” I say matching his energy.
“That’s okay, dear wife. I’ll forgive you just this once because I love you, but next time there will be consequences.” I feel myself freeze at him saying I love you, but I shake it off just as quickly knowing that he most likely doesn’t mean it.
“Thank you, my dear husband. Care to join me in the bedroom?”
“How could I ever say no to that?” His eyebrows wiggle suggestively before he grabs my hand, and we walk upstairs. My heart starts palpitating as we closer to my room.
I take a quick peek and it’s not as dirty as I thought it would be. A few (1/3 of the floor is covered) clothes are on the floor and my bed is unmade. I think it gives the room character. We walk in and he makes himself comfortable on the bed. I guess I spaced out because I look around, too nervous to do anything else, and notice that his lunchbox is right next to it, but I don’t even remember him having it in his hand.
“Do you have a musical preference this afternoon, husband?”
“Whatever you want, wife. I’m not picky or proud.” I snorted, knowing that was a lie. If it’s not rock or metal there’s a fat chance he’ll listen to it. I actually have a custom cassette tape that I made. It’s somewhere in this pile of junk, but it’s not really his type of music. None of my tapes are labeled so I guess we’re gonna play cassette roulette. I tell Eddie to look in my bottom nightstand drawer and get my grinder and tray while I find something to play. I’m not looking long before I hear Eddie talking.
“What?” I ask as I turn to him.
“Robin thinks I should do it, but Chrissy (gag me) told me I should play it safe and get with a college boy-“ I start chasing him around the room before he runs to my bathroom and locks himself in.
“YOU LITTLE SHIT! I TOLD YOU THE BOTTOM DRAWER, NOT THE TOP!” I yell while banging on the door.
“I’m most likely gonna do neither. I’m in love with Eddie..” His voice starts fading from a high-pitched girl voice to his regular tone, “and I don’t think that’ll change even if I’m not his type.” I could almost cry from the embarrassment. The timer rings from the dresser. I don’t even bother waiting for him to come out of the bathroom before hurrying downstairs.
Why doesn’t he listen? I clearly said the bottom drawer. Right? I’m pretty sure. Whatever. I open the oven door and the pasta looks good, but I’m gonna give it about two more minutes. I lean over the kitchen counter and put my head in my folded arms. I have to face him eventually. He’s in my house. Sooner happened rather than later because right after that statement I felt a hand on the middle of my back.
“Why wouldn’t you be my type.” His soft tone is what triggers the tears.
“Because I don’t look like any of the girls we go to school with. You should be with someone like Heather, Nancy, fuck maybe even Crissy. Besides. People would probably look at us funny. Interracial relationships aren’t very common.”
The timer goes off. I open the drawer next to the sink and get my oven mitts. I take this moment to gather my thoughts and breath, so I don’t have a mental breakdown. I open the oven door and thankfully the food looks good. I pick it up with both hands and close the door with my foot. I lay it down on the counter to cool down and I sit the oven mitts next to it.
“Look at me.” He says. I’m hesitant but eventually, turn to him. “My type is a girl that spends more time maintaining her hair than actual sleeping. My type is a girl that designs her own clothes because she doesn’t like the stuff at the mall. My type is a girl that skips lunch every day because she has social anxiety. My type of girl is you.” I look into his eyes and see the exact look I’ve been giving him since I met him.
“Now, I don’t know what I did to give off the impression that I was sitting here comparing you to other girls, but I have you right now and that’s all I need to care about.” Heat rushes to my face at the confession. I turn around and open the top cabinet and reach for a couple of bowls. His arms wrap around my middle, startling me a bit but doesn’t deter me from reaching for a serving spoon.
“By the way, I meant what I said earlier. I do love you. Even if you were late with dinner.” I laugh at his quip as I spoon the pasta into one of the bowls.
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Eddie Masterlist | Hawkins
#eddie munson x y/n#eddie munson x fem!reader#eddie munson x black!reader#stranger things fanfiction#eddie munson fanfic#eddie munson fanfiction#eddie munson fluff#black!reader
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I once again come to you as the Kaylor jewelry expert with a detailed question.
When did Karlie start wearing the Cartier onyx necklace? I know she wore it to the rep tour show in Nashville in August 2018, but was she seen wearing it before that?
hi anon! thank you for the question 😌
back in june 2018 karlie went on a back to back trip to japan and then shanghai. she can be seen wearing the amulette de cartier in japan (josh was there) from june 11th, if you look closely through her instagram stories. she’s more clearly documented wearing it in shanghai starting on june 15th (she was alone for this leg).
her engagement was announced a little more than a month later. iirc, there was word on the street (online rumors) a few weeks before it was announced on july 24, that they were getting engaged. i guess that if you were to believe this official narrative, you might think the amulette was an engagement gift from josh that she could wear without the news getting out by wearing her ring. but my goodness, a symbol of protection during difficult times seems to be an odd choice as an engagement present (who pops the question with a necklace that’s a lucky charm made for times that require strength of heart against all odds?!)
so I’m sure you can see how this lends itself perfectly to the kaylor narrative.
*to provide some meta context, their trip to japan was at the time very painful for kaylors. the two were acting lovey dovey at a time when many were convinced they were about to break up, and they appeared very intimate (hand holding/cheek kissing) with each other in ways they really hadn’t in years prior. i think at the time, some saw this bump in pda as writing on the wall that an engagement rather than a breakup was coming. at the time i was a holdout but in hindsight, given the symbolic value of the amulette, it feels that way. btw all this was happening right after taylor got very very loud in spring 2018, when rep tour started and she debuted the rainbow dress and delicate pride speech and we had the caticorn rainbow ad, and so it was distressing at the time how it was like one step forward, two steps back for kaylor. but in hindsight, sheesh, simpler times!
so karlie wore the amulette a whole lot between the end of june and end of sep 2018. most memorably, i would say, to NYC pride and of course when she went to rep tour nashville.
iirc the last time she was seen wearing it in 2018 was on sept 28 2018? and she changed her IG profile picture to a picture with her wearing it, and it stayed like that for what feels like it was about a year. then of course we have taylor’s october 2018 AMA performance where there was this big set piece that looked so much like the amulette.. and a nod to it in 2019 as the little peephole on the door to the lover house
while it remained karlie’s profile picture for a long time, karlie didn’t post new photos of her wearing it again until march 2020, another time of difficulty for her with her fans (controversies about her kushner/white house connections in the early days of the pandemic and in an election year) she continued wearing it off and on, notably during her pregnancy, including in the pregnancy announcement video. id add pics of it but i’m over the pic limit!! but you can check the #cartier tag on my blog for more.
so yeah, you can see how these two periods of time have some thematic similarities for her—pivotal life moments both taking things to a new level—and how the amulette and everything it stands for just adds to the symbolism of it all… 🫠
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20 questions for fic writers!
tagged my @thotpuppy!! <3
1. How many works do you have on AO3?
209
2. What’s your total AO3 word count?
1,195,283
3. What fandoms do you write for?
on AO3, i have posted for:
Teen Wolf
Merlin
Raven Cycle
Captive Prince
Dark Rise
Supernatural (crossover w/TW)
once upon a time, back in FFN days, i also wrote and posted for Harry Potter (primarily) and then one each for Newsies, Little Mermaid II, and Twilight. none of these fics ever got finished lmao.
4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?
Metamorphose (Merlin, Merthur, 7750 kudos)
Happiness is Effortless (TW, Sterek, 7746 kudos)
Much Ado About You Two (TW, Sterek, 7046 kudos)
I'll Dissolve When The Rain Pours In... (TW, Stackson, 6172 kudos)
We Duel At Dawn (Merlin, Merthur, 4949 kudos)
5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?
i respond to all my comments!! (except for comments on old suspended WIPs that ask if i'm writing more, which i let sit in my inbox to haunt me like a beating heart under my floorboards slowly driving me insane until i figure out if i am writing more or if i can definitively tell them it's abandoned alkfdgh) i've been stuck recently though and have let my inbox get backed up for a month, so i really need to go on a reply spree soon 😭
it's just a point of pride, i guess? i made the decision that i would Respond To All Comments/Reviews I Ever Get when i first started posting back on FFN in ye olden days (like 2008 lol), and i've been pretty darn good at keeping that promise to myself. and i just think it's nice!! FFN had private messaging, and a lot of those responses turned into whole conversations and friendships that lasted for months. community engagement is a good thing and i like reaching back to the people who reach out to me.
6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?
proooobably These Gordian Knots We Tie (Sterek)😅 though An Empty Glass Is An Ugly Mirror (Dydia) is also pretty bleak.
7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?
uuhhh most of them??? i write a lot of fluff, LOL, i wouldn't know how to pick out just one that stands above the rest when the vast majority of my posted oneshots are sappy as fuck 😂
8. Do you get hate on fics?
i really don't, tbh. which i count myself lucky for, cuz i hear a lot of horror stories. but i've only gotten a small handful of negative comments, most of which were bitching about disagreeing with the characters' choices. i don't think i've ever fielded personal attacks or what ye olden FFNers would've called flames, lol. proportionally, they're negligible.
9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?
on occasion. out of my 209 fics, only 13 of them are explicit, which is roughly 6% lol. including my 7 mature fics (not all of which are rated so for smut, i don't think) ups that to 9.5% 😂 i'm just not very interested in writing smut, not to mention it's both difficult and kind of boring and repetitive when you think about it. i feel like i'm notorious for romances that use one kiss as the climactic ending, if even that, haha. when i do (rarely) write smut, it's usually in dedicated pwp format, rather than integrated into a larger story, cuz i just feel like most larger stories (mine, at least) don't need it 🤷🏻♀️
10. Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve written?
the only crossover that i've written and posted was Teen Wolf/Supernatural, cuz i just could not resist the urge to have Allison call the Winchesters and tell them that her father had gone on a hunting trip and he hadn't been home in a while. i just needed that in my life, and i was offended that no one else had written it. also i thought that Dean "Easily Flustered By Flirtatious Men" Winchester should really meet Stiles "Doe Eyes, Witty Banter Someone Needs To Sex Me Right Now" Stilinski. for reasons.
11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?
i have! the reason that i teeechnically have a wattpad account is because someone yoinked To Be A King wholesale and posted it over there themselves, and i needed an account to be able to message them to take it tf down. weirdly, they changed some of the names, but not the distinctive names? the identifying names?? like Mordred or the names of my OCs. it was an odd choice. anyway, they took it down immediately with no other response. i think that's been the only time, as far as i'm aware.
12. Have you ever had a fic translated?
i've got 15 translations listed in my related works 😍 8 of them by the same industrious person, bless them.
13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?
not since that one disaster of an attempt with a friend in early high school, lmao. that's when i realized that i am a control freak with high and unforgiving standards. she was writing her parts 1) badly and 2) WRONG and it drove me up the wall. i can't handle not having complete control of the narrative 😅 i write alone.
14. What’s your all time favourite ship?
that's not faaaiiiiiir, patently impossible to answer, next question
15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?
if i don't finish For Shell And Safety someday, it'll be a fucking tragedy, cuz i'm really proud of that one and i was so so invested in it when i started it and i've still got Thoughts on how it's supposed to end, i just got stalled out in the middle of it and never found my momentum again. but.....it's been 6.5 fucking years.
however, i feel like, because i do still have those thoughts and plans, that one might have a better chance than REM-DAC, because THAT one stalled out right before it was supposed to be over due to the sudden realization that i actually wanted there to be a sequel and i couldn't tie up the loose ends in the first fic without knowing how to set up for the second one. but. i never figured out concretely what i wanted to happen in the second one. and it's been 5.5 years there too. still no concrete plans. so, despite that one also being a GREAT FIC that i'm VERY PROUD OF and deeply invested in, i will have to at some point accept the reality of how low the odds are that i will ever actually get back into the swing of it and finish what i fucking started.
they haunt me.
16. What are your writing strengths?
i'm really not quite sure 🤔 strengths and weaknesses are easier to tell from an outside perspective, lol. i feel like i write good natural-feeling dialogue. at least, the professor in the one short story technique workshop i took in college told me as much 😂 said i had the best dialogue in the class. been riding that high for a decade aldkfjghf
17. What are your writing weaknesses?
idkkkkkk 😅😅😅 pacing maybe?? like, long form pacing in lengthier narratives??
18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?
i have avoided it so far, lkajdfgh. objectively, i think it can be done well and it can be done badly, and different methods serve different purposes so it depends on the story which is most appropriate. the online medium provides more avenues for it than print, like the hover text translations that used to be more popular before phones/touchscreens without cursors became the most prominent way to read things, or superscript links to footnotes with translations. some people put the translation directly into the narrative like an echo, but that gets really tedious really fast, and it would be simpler and more streamlined to just cut out the other language entirely and say "XYZ" he said, in french instead.
overall, my preferred method is to filter it through the understanding of the POV character and their potentially limited/imperfect grasp of that other language. if they don't know what's being said, we don't know what's being said. if they pick out some words and get the gist, we see their thought process of figuring it out. it informs our understanding of the character, as well as providing an obstacle and creating tension. if you want to include a full translation of the foreign text, you can in endnotes or a postscript, but i don't really think it's necessary. if people wanna find out what it says, google translate is free 🤷🏻♀️
probably best not to use google translate to write the thing, though. if it's not a language you speak, preferably find someone who does speak it to translate, to make sure it's accurate and not butchered. hence me avoiding writing anything that requires other languages 😂 cuz i'm a monolingual usamerican loser who doesn't want to go to as much trouble as it would require to branch out like this. i am a "so-and-so said something unintelligibly french" bitch.
19. First fandom you wrote for?
cut my teeth on Harry Potter back in the day
20. Favourite fic you’ve written?
another patently impossible question, i have no answer for this, i love all my fics equally (or at least in tiers uwu)
.
i am tagginggg: @adamprrishcycle @flightspathfic @nooowestayandgetcaught @adrianfridge @nyxelestia and anybody else who wants to do it!!
20 questions for fic writers!
1. How many works do you have on AO3?
2. What’s your total AO3 word count?
3. What fandoms do you write for?
4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?
5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?
6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?
7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?
8. Do you get hate on fics?
9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?
10. Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve written?
11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?
12. Have you ever had a fic translated?
13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?
14. What’s your all time favourite ship?
15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?
16. What are your writing strengths?
17. What are your writing weaknesses?
18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?
19. First fandom you wrote for?
20. Favourite fic you’ve written?
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I was tagged by @alyss-mainwarning for a song shuffle game (I always enjoy these!). Putting in a separate post instead of reblogging because I'm old-fashioned, and I think it's just easier to navigate.
rules: shuffle your “on repeat” playlist and post the first 10 tracks, then tag 10 people
I think we're probably not surprised at this point that it's pretty much all stuff off Ghostbustin' With the Buds, right?
Fairlies - Grian Chatten: Contribution from @womaninwinter's sickos playlist and it's a great THB sound from LW's self-denial POV, especially "Do you miss the days before hope knocked on your door? But you went and fell in love, and into love you fell, and it made you feel unwell, oh well" (Ah. Ow.)
House a Habit - We Are the Guests: I can't remember whose playlist I got this off of, but wow, VERY Lucy leaving vibes, especially the way the narration goes back and forth between the man and woman singing in the second verse. But seriously, this is just painfully on the nose, with lines like "I don't know if I should stay or should I go, he told me this house would always be our home… Everyone tells me to just stay the same, but it's not like that, no it's not like that, oh, tell me someone's out there listening to me 'cause I wanna know that like I wanna know you, oh, stay with me… Everyone tells me you're fine, don't be in love, let's make this house a habit… Oh please don't imagine a life without me, at least not yet, this house is a habit and it's lovely to live in it… This head is a hospital, someone please tend to it" (!!!)
Waking Up - We the Kingdom: I've talked about this one before multiple times, the victorious declaration of returning from the Other Side ("I am alive in the land of the living") as well as something that captures my own healing after the depression years.
Summerland - half•alive: Captures the temporary elation of the warmer months in a way I think vibes well with how Lucy describes that season for the Portland Row trio, the way it's the cycle of it all that even makes it meaningful, and the hope of it all in the ups and downs! "Whatever ain't golden now will only come back around." I'm particularly attached to this for the unseen summer between TCS and TEG. (Also this has been stuck in my head for at least the last week.)
Hot Tea - half•alive: Freaking cute Locklyle vibes! Especially fitting considering all the waxing eloquent about the comforts of good hot tea in these books. "Hold you in my hands like hot tea, knowing I'm safe 'cause you want me," the adopted feral cat energy, it's perfect.
Tip Toes - half•alive: Okay well, I guess this answers the question of what artist is most represented in my L&Co playlist. 😆 (They're actually in second place for that distinction, it's just that I'm also new to their music and so least likely to skip.) This song is SO Lockwood coded, especially the way his desire to make his family name immortal can blur the lines into pride, even the misplaced sacrificial nature and the way he needs to frequently reassess his priorities as a leader. "I'm on my tiptoes, trying to see past my ego, reaching for something more than this feeling of being important, leaving my hear behind is bleeding, but still my pride is screaming, my future will listen to me, will I always know this divide, living most of this war inside, take the ghost of me with the tide to die and release my heart to come alive" - like!!!
Dancing in the Minefields - Andrew Peterson: Used very recently for fanfic title purposes (That's What the Promise Is For), this one just screams Locklyle, married young and facing life's challenges together and helping each other remember the light in the world when the dark closes in. Literally could quote the entire thing for them and struggled not to when I posted the fic, so to choose something I didn't put there, can we just all shriek about that third verse/bridge, especially "So there's nothing left to fear, so I'll walk with you in the shadowlands till the shadows disappear, 'cause he promised not to leave us and his promises are true, so in the face of all this chaos, baby I can dance with you," together?
still feel - half•alive: At any given time having exclamation point variety thoughts about these lyrics, especially as applied to Lockwood, or Kipps, or tbh just broadly across this series. "To realize the hand of life is reaching out, to rid me of my pride I call allegiance to myself… Oh I am not a slave, can't be contained, so pick me from the dark and pull me from the grave, 'cause I still feel alive, when it's hopeless, I start to notice, oh, and I still feel alive" I AM FEELING THINGS!!
Out of the Dark - Tritonal, EMME: I've had this one on repeat while driving a lot lately, it's a great sound, and also a very fun Locklyle song post-THB. Obviously "I know you're scared of diving deep, afraid of what's just out of reach… Sometimes the weight's too much to carry, when it gets heavy, feels like everything's falling apart, so unsteady, you'll be the light to get out of the dark" is delightful imagery for our beloved burdened ghostbusting duo, but also the dual meaning of "There's an end in sight, just hold on tight, you'll make it to the other side" is chef's kiss, they're going to make it to their hash-it-out conversation on the Other Side in TCS and also make it to the other side of the dark in terms of emotional context and setting. Obsessed.
Twenty Something - Nightly: I've already said a few times this is my best inspiration for writing introspective angst lately, used for a Fringe WIP in addition to being on repeat for the writing of Living With the Ghost of You, especially the Lockwood POV chapter. The lyrics are only right at a slant but the vibe is perfect.
I just did one of these so I'm not going to tag anyone this round, but if you happen across this and want to join in, please do say I tagged you!
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Employment Struggles
I'm going to do something shocking and use this as an actual blog post.
I am SO sick and tired of applying to jobs, only to be ignored completed, or even worse the interview is scheduled and then the role is filled before I can interview. Today the interview was cancelled a minute before the scheduled time. Then the person who would be interviewing me ignored me on email and phone.
I am mentally exhausted. I am broke all the time. I don't get unemployment because I've never been eligible for it. The only good thing about this is that I have full healthcare coverage and food stamps.
I am a medical assistant with experience, I am a certified professional medical coder with internship experience, I have experience in retail, yet I cannot even get a call back from McDonald's, let alone a good healthcare job.
I've considered becoming a behavioral health tech, but I just truly don't want to be hit/bitten at work. I also couldn't deal with the families of children disagreeing with a preset therapy plan while I'm physically stuck in their home. The other options I was looking at was security, or 911 dispatcher, but dispatch classes are few and far between into next year, and also expensive. And security can be dangerous.
At this point, being 30 and just defeated by how unsuccessful I am in life, I am considering going to a trade school. Like welding. Or automobile tech or something that is actually in demand. There is literally no other options for me and I'm literally five minutes outside of San Francisco. I am mildly considering an IT course, but tech is so unstable and unsafe while also being over saturated right now and I don't trust it. But then, you have to deal with stereotypical personalities in 'conservative' trade jobs too. The other risk is I spend time and money doing a trade school and then no one wants to hire me (like I've done twice now). I don't know what to do.
The trades I'm considering:
Electrician
Welder (part of machinist trade) (honestly this is most appealing to me)
Aircraft Maintenance Technology (Can't hurt with SFO next to me and their planes literally falling to pieces in the sky every week)
HVAC (still don't really understand what this job even is)
The guilt I'm feeling is that I am about to finish my BA in psychology next month, and I'm waiting to hear back from the two colleges I applied to for a Master's to become a therapist. If I get in to my top choice, that's $60k+ I'll need to fund. If I get into the state school, which is slim, that's likely covered by school loans, but I'll still want to make some kind of income for three years I'm in the program. If I don't get into either program, then my last choices are: work while getting med school pre-reqs done, or work while doing an online MFT program (which I really don't want to do an online only program but if it's accredited at the end of the day I don't care.) The online only school would also be $60k+ so I'd need to work regardless.
I'm feeling guilty too because I've never been the fanartist who can drop a new print and have thousands of followers want it. I can't make money that way. Commissions have always been my most lucrative offering as an artist, but it's often mentally very taxing. It's also unstable. I don't have a lot of followers to drum up a successful pays-my-rent-every-month Patreon, and with the way of algorithms and sites are these days, I likely won't ever. I'm not trying to complain for sympathy, but this is just how it's been for me.
I know it's stupid to feel guilty for things like this, but I just am in this nebulous space between being apparently unemployable while also not being unemployable enough to receive livable benefits while continuing job hunting.
So I guess I'm looking for opinions on trade professions. I'm trans, but I pass masc in public save for my voice really. I also am not the kind of person to wear pride pins or color my hair rainbow, which would draw attention that way. I'm not too concerned about mean people in a trade job, because honestly the rudest people I've worked with have been in healthcare anyway. And a trade job would mean no customer service positions/working with my hands, which requires little mental gymnastics.
Also pointless, but true, I keep thinking of Debbie in Shameless getting her welder certification after becoming a teen parent.
I guess the takeaway here is, I'm more willing to be hurt on the job by a machine mistake on my part than I am willing to be hurt by other people assaulting me (very real in healthcare jobs/security) while working.
What do you think?
#I'm sorry if this is coming off whiny but I have no one to talk to about this#so to the tumblr masses it goes
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Hi @almost-a-class-act and thanks for the tag :)
I haven't done one of these in ages, it's making me nostalgic :3
Name: Matt
Pronouns: He/Him
Star sign: Gemini :D
Number of siblings and fun facts about them: A younger sister who is due to give birth to my niece (and my grandparents' first great-grandchild!) towards the end of this month.
Number of pets and their names: Three cats, all picked up from the street because this is Cambodia and you can't kick a stone in here without finding a stray. Their names are Gollum, Am, and Bichon :)
(Yes I'm linking you to their tags because I love them but watch out if you do a deep dive in Bichon's because I can't remember if I posted pictures of him in the early days when his eyes were nasty)
Fandoms: Urgh, SO MANY xD See the tag list for a full list, but also at the moment the more eagle-eyed of you may have noticed I'm kinda deep in the Band of Brothers fandom ;P Also we got confirmation that Good Omens is getting a season 3, and Queer Eye season 8 is coming out... january 24, iirc? So there will definitely be talks of that.
(I'm a bit of a fandom hopper, if you've noticed. I just have some of them that creep back a little more regularly than others.)
favorite color: Green
favorite song: I always waffle over this question because I'm like, do you mean ever or the one I've listened to a thousand times this week? Ever is probably All the Small Things by Blink-182. I was the right age for it to lodge firmly in the ol' melon I guess.
favorite author (books, fanfics, zines, webtoons, etc.): god, is it Robert Leckie? He's the only author I've actively sought out in the last couple of years. I sort of have a lifelong yen for Lewis Carroll and Dianna Wynne Jones also. I bought my nephew the two Alice books for Christmas.
Favorite fic type: Oh boy remember when I used to write nothing but angst? xD I've been fluff all the way pretty much since I came out as trans oO I'd say I can dabble in other genres, but the last time I wrote anything angsty was in 2019 and it still ended somewhat fluffily xD
(Though there was about 50k worth of angst first so.)
Favorite holiday: Pride x) It makes my students laugh when I say it but it's still my favorite time of the year.
Do you have a partner (romantic, qpr, etc.)? Nah. I don't even know where I stand on that concept tbh.
Hobbies: Writing fic, and playing DND (which I don't atm for lack of a group) ...and that's about it. My life is uh. Not well filled outside of fandom, which I don't really like but also I haven't really done much about it so *shrug*
Fun facts about you: I can move my eyes somewhat independently from one another like a chameleon. It's fun to watch people's face when I do it :P
Anyone who wants to do this can consider themselves tagged, but especially: @castillon02, @simtorta and @the-coolest-bowtie
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THINGS THAT I WOULD LIKE TO KNOW ABOUT MY FELLOW WRITERS
this is a super fun tag prompt list, thanks @littleplasticrat!
tagging: @commander-krios @graysparrowao3 and anyone else who wants it!
here we go ✨ below the cut for considerable length, discussion of my generally E-rated work and brief unpopular opinions (lol).
Last book I read: I’m currently part way through The Left Hand of Darkness (Ursula K Le Guin) and Exhalation (Ted Chiang), and am in a constant state of rereading Pride and Prejudice. Honestly just been writing more than reading lately but I really want to finish these two books! I also devoured The New Topping Book as fuel for my Steel Weave kink adventures, lmao.
Greatest literary inspiration: Pride and Prejudice. Austen in general. (Story time) I once dated a guy who dismissed her books out of hand as ‘gossipy’, and then literally days later proceeded to tell me that when drinking with his bestie, they loved to ‘analyse other people’s personalities.’ What he thought he had that Austen didn’t, I don’t know. (God, the sexism. And yes, I did tell him that what he was doing was in fact also gossiping).
Austen sketches people in all their ignorance and kindness and flaws and virtues at once, whilst being deeply funny about it. I love her work.
Things in my current fandom I want to read but I don't want to write:
I LOVE omeluum x blurg. No desire to write for them but they’re great. (Check out weatheredlaw on AO3 for amazing Omelurg!)
Generally I’ve read and enjoyed for all of the tadpole gang and all sorts of other characters, but aside from having them feature in my Rolan fics the urge doesn’t strike me to write about them. My thoughts are extremely occupied with just the one guy.
Things in my current fandoms I want to write but I think nobody would be interested in them but me: Unhinged kink fics. If I ever write them, I’ll probably post on an alt account, because I think my current subscribers probably aren’t looking for [redacted niche kink] lol
You can recognise my writing by:
Relentlessly horny vibes. Bratty Rolan.
I honestly don’t know if I’ve got a particularly recognisable style - it varies a lot between the fandoms I write in, I think. I’m not given to lots of purple prose but neither is my writing spare. I overdo it on facial expressions, that’s for sure!
My most controversial take ( current fandom):
In an absolute shocker, I don’t enjoy dom!Rolan at all, or see it as particularly in-character. But you could guess that already if you’re following me lol. I filter all related tags/content liberally…
Current writing mood (10 – super motivated and churning out words like crazy, 0 – in a complete rut): It was a 9-10, and has been for months - but this week I’ve been smacked in the face with a real stumbling block so I’ll give it a (hopefully temporary) 6-7
Top three favourite tropes: Oooh. Ahhhh. Forced Proximity - only one bed, handcuffed together, trapped in a lift - whatever. Just make those people boil over with desire because they CANNOT AVOID the person they’re desperately trying to. Arguing. I love steamy argumentative kissing in stories. Forbidden Love. I am ESPECIALLY a huge fan of priests/nuns/religiously celibate breaking their vows, but doctor/patient is good too (Harvey SDV my beloved), or university professor/student, or sworn members of separate factions. Whatever. I want that sexual tension to be so fucking scorching it breaks through every barrier, and their love to conquer all.
Share a random frustration: Chapter 10 of Planar Tears. It’s coming along now but - I don’t like falling behind schedule! It’s also once again illustrated to me that although outlining is useful, at some points my characters will just develop a mind of their own. I just realised that after the last two extremely dramatic plot chapters - there needs to be a similarly dramatic step in Rolan and Catrin’s relationship as payoff. I think that’s the issue, anyway. I’d written a load of relatively lowkey flirty fluff and it just. Wasn’t. Hitting. I have honestly entered the stage of ‘please fucking kill me I no longer know if this writing is good’ and think I just have to weather the storm here!
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JJK 216: Well, that's a lot less incest (zero incest, in fact) than what the post-leaks internet reaction led me to believe
I don't really avoid leaks or spoilers before I read the chapter over the weekend, so since Wednesday, I've been seeing everything from Reddit posts to wholeass articles on incest-related developments. I assume it's worse over on Twitter because I always assume everything is worse on Twitter.
Then I read the actual chapter and...what incest? There's not even a hint of it. Yorozu and Sukuna seem headed for a bloodbath, and though the two fighting while possessing siblings is extremely interesting in terms of what it'll do to the remnants of Megumi (and Tsumiki, maybe), I don't understand the "lovers in the bodies of siblings" reaction (I saw that caption with my own two eyes). Seriously, this is disappointing for anyone who'd be into the incest angle, and anyone who's outraged is making one hell of a stretch. The genre could take a hard left into hentai and Sukuna and Yorozu could start full-on fucking next chapter, and it still wouldn't be incest. I lost brain cells to this take.
Onto the actual content:
The bath and the protagonists
I'm very curious how long the bath took, plus all the travel time (Kenjaku's Flying Fishmobile seems... efficient at least). The ten months and ten days bit is for the original process, right? How long has Sukuna been in there? Days or just hours? I'm also dying to see the state of Megumi's soul now. I don't think it's the last we've seen of him as himself, but the longer Sukuna is in him, the more it seems to seal Megumi's ultimate fate. That said, jumping right into fighting/killing Tsumiki for good seems like it will backfire on Sukuna. I hope it will. It's been established that Megumi fights back the hardest when his loved ones are in danger, and while killing Tsumiki might destroy his soul (though it would be interesting if his reaction is unhinged rage rather than immediate grief), it also seems like the kind of thing that would make him fight back the hardest. Sukuna versus Yorozu is shaping up to be pivotal to Megumi's character arc, and I am buying popcorn as we speak.
I also wonder if the bath has taken a long enough time that Yuuji and Maki (and Takaba and...maybe the Angel, if she and Hana survived) have regrouped with Yuuta and Hakari + Kashimo. Yuuta's absence in Sendai hints at that, I hope. I don't know whether I want the next chapter to jump right into Sukuna versus Yorozu or pan back to Yuuji and co. dealing with this clusterfuck.
Sukuna's appearance
Sukuna being shown to retain Megumi's appearance on purpose also resolves my confusion about how Yorozu retained Tsumiki's looks. Guess there's more control involved in that whole process than I'd previously assumed. But Megumi's soul is clearly still kicking inside, so does complete eradication of the soul by the incarnated sorcerer forcibly reset the body? In the same vein, is preserving the original soul to some extent needed for the incarnated sorcerer to retain the vessel's appearance? The fight between Sukuna and Yorozu will be more interesting if there's some of Tsumiki left in there, rather than it just being about Megumi and his pain. It's a doomed end for her either way, I think, but at least give her a somewhat active role in this whole mess.
On a related note, I am cackling at how Yorozu apparently found the time to stop and find some makeup. Way to go, buddy. Fight and fall in style. In all seriousness, I do love how that hair and face make Yorozu look quite distinct from Tsumiki while retaining the same base design:
Hello <3
Also, Sukuna's line about preferring Megumi's face strikes me as particularly hilarious. One, damn, dude, you just won't let up on Yuuji, will you? Kenjaku doesn't seem happy. Hurt parental feelings, hurt mad scientist pride, or both? Who knows.
Two, fandom has been theorizing forever that Sukuna's original appearance kind of resembles Yuuji's (and what that may imply with regard to Kaori-Kenjaku's experimentation with fetus!Yuuji and Yuuji's body/bloodline overall), and from that lens, it's like Sukuna's giving himself a little impromptu makeover.
It's also interesting how his answer to Yorozu is so different from the one he gave Kenjaku. The latter is probably the more honest one, while the response to Yorozu is just Sukuna's usual battle persona, but that brings me to:
Sukuna and Kenjaku
I would read a whole arc of just these characters interacting. I low-key want a full-on flashback segment just to see more of OG Kenjaku's interactions with Sukuna (and OG Kenjaku in general).
I love them, your honor. Guess Yuuji inherited his mum's irreverence for Sukuna.
Seriously though, I think this is the most casual/disrespectful anyone other than Yuuji or Gojou has acted toward Sukuna without any consequences. With Gojou, Sukuna was outclassed, and with Yuuji, he seemed to have been biding his time while getting his kicks where he could. I'm dying to see how it will end with these two. Allies or not, I don't see their agendas, whatever the fuck they are, matching up in the long run.
Overall, I'm still not a fan of Megukuna, the plot continues to be extremely compelling, Yorozu is smoking hot, and I'd sell my soul to Kenjaku with the full awareness that it'll backfire on me.
#jjk#jujutsu kaisen spoilers#jjk spoilers#jujutsu kaisen#jjk 216#I'm a lot less feral when the chapters don't feature yuuji#it's good i wasn't reading along when the shibuya arc happened#might have lost my mind for all of my blog to ser#*see
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fanfic writing asks: 10, 12, & 16!
Questions found here!
10: Favorite line or lines of dialogue that you've written
I actually did a similar prompt a while ago and while I couldn’t decide between a bunch of quotes then, I think I've narrowed it down to this little snippet from chapter 5 of The Children of Kephallonia, With No Hesitation:
So when their training session ends so they can eat, Kassandra beckons Phoibe over, kneeling down to grip her shoulder and look her easily in the eye. She is not Nikolaos - she will be better than Nikolaos - but there are no other words than the ones her father gave her so long ago, “You are my greatest pride, Phoibe. Remember that.”
12: What WIPs do you have going now? Are you excited about them?
Besides my posted fics, I have three WIPs that’s I’m actively working on, and by actively working on I mean I’ve opened them in the last month and think about them constantly and especially when I’m trying to work on my posted fics 😂
First is A Flap of an Eagle’s Wings, which will be my second Odyssey time travel fix it fic, except Kassandra and two others come back a lot earlier than in Rebirth and accidentally end up setting everything on fire in an attempt to fix things.
Second is my untitled time loop fic, in which Alkibiades keeps waking up the day Perikles and Phoibe dies. Chaos ensues.
Third, the Percy Jackson trailer inspired me to go back to my crossover fic which somehow ended with me starting a NEW FIC. So now I am working on the Personal Journal of Herodotos of Samos - with unauthorized annotations from Kassandra the Eagle Bearer and Barnabas of the Adrestia - from Delphi to Athens to Sparta to Atlantis and everything.
16: 3 favorite comments ever received on fanfic.
A little long, so I put them under a read more!
From the Children of Kephallonia, A Night for Blood
This story is awesome! I love Assassin's Creed but I never find any good fics for it. Then, while searching for an Edward and Conner fic (not romantic, mind you) I found this gem. You are righting a wrong that I didn't think would ever be fixed. On top of that, your writing is superb. I don't think I found a single grammatical error in seven chapters. I don't think that's ever happened to me before. Your descriptions are vivid and the characterization is excellent. Well done! I hope you continue with this fic, because this is incredible.
From Rebirth, Sparta II
That was so cool. Kass sounds like she's a force of nature, literally blowing everyone away multiple times or shaking the ground when she and Alexios spar.
Also the constant, jumping and flipping gives the fight scenes some movement and make it feel fast paced. Which actually makes me compare Kassandra to a bird, all mobile and flipping and flying around.
I guess the Ikaros part of her soul is influencing her.
I like seeing how other people see Kassandra because it's like, do they see her as a demigod more, do they approve of her un-Spartan like lifestyle and all that.
Also I like Stentor's point of view he's just done with it all or Nikolaos' gemeral confusion on what the hell is going on. They're funny 🤣
From Not a Málakes Ravenclaw, Molly I
I don't understand how you keep making great fics, and making them all feel new, and not just recycled ideas from your other fics. I didn't think a Harry Potter/Ac Odyssey fic would work but here we go with me wanting another chapter after I just finished reading what I'm thinking is gonna be another great fic from you. I like how Kassandra says all they traumatizing things and the other are freaked out that she's just nonchalantly saying something so crazy, like confirming God's exist or that her dad threw her off a cliff at such a young age.
Thank you for writing these great fics, I'm always excited when I see you upload another chapter.
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how has the pandemic change the way you dress
wow what an interesting question I've never considered this before...
Well I'll start out by saying pre-pandemic I was constantly buying in the "one day" mindset where I would accumulate things that were maybe too flashy or fancy for my every day life with the expectation that one day my life would be glamorous enough to call for this particular garment. The pandemic changed that mentality in me because I started seeing every opportunity to go out (grocery store, post office) as an opportunity to stunt. I stopped dimming my own light for fear of seeming too this or too that and I wear what I want when I want and guess what? I always wanna look show stoppingly good. Since then I've made a conscious choice to put on things I've never given myself permission to wear. It's been in my closet for 4 years but I've never put it on? I'm making an occasion to wear it this week. Which brings me to my next point...
All of the ethical consumption and ecological pollutant dialogue that went on pretty early in the pandemic really impacted my thoughts about dressing. In middle school I made a vow to myself to never repeat an outfit (pre-Lizzie McGuire movie before you ask) And I literally stuck with that until the pandemic. That's not to say that I would wear all my clothes once and then trash them, I definitely prioritized mixing and matching items and creating new looks from my clothing and prided myself on being able to style everything in my closet a plethora of ways because I never wore the same combo more than once. I still love that I have that ability, but I started to give myself grace. I no longer think it's embarrassing to wear the same thing twice or be seen in the same look more than once. In fact, I'm less likely to buy an outfit for a specific occasion because I have already maybe worn that dress or those pants and been photographed in them (a previous phobia of mine). This married with the previous point means that if I have an event I have to dress for, which I have in increasing frequency these days, I look into my closet first. I probably have a dress or outfit I haven't worn yet or can be styled in a new way that will make me feel great. Learning that the most ethical thing you can do is wear your clothes changed that hyper consumerist mindset in me more than anything.
There's a few reasons why previously I wouldn't wear anything form fitting or skin showing, and therapy (which I underwent during the pandemic) really helped with that. Also, gaining weight helped with that. When I was skinny I was more likely to wear over sized garments because I liked the way it hung... We all know the skinny girl oversized look. These days with my body proportions the way they are I'm less likely to dress oversized because I think it makes me look boxy. I like things that show the silhouette of my body and I don't really care if you can see my tummy or hips because that's kind of a feature anyway rather than something I would want to hide. I dress in a way that celebrates my body because I finally feel ownership of it and pride in it, not guilt and shame. For the most part :) So I would say I also dress sexier as a result.
I've definitely been a shopaholic in the past and the last 6 months at the very least I haven't even really felt the desire to shop because I'm kind of already stacked in the closet. Going forward I want to make an effort to mend and alter my clothes before buying new, get them tailored to fit me like a glove and catalogue my closet so I don't forget about things I own.
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Tell Me How You Really Feel by Aminah Mae Safi - Book Review
9.5/10 ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️🌟
TWs: car accident, cursing, sexism, panic attacks, abandonment
(TWs are ranked in order of severity, please take them seriously!)
Summary
“The first time Sana Khan asked out a girl-Rachel Recht--it went so badly that she never did it again. Rachel is a film buff and aspiring director, and she's seen Carrie enough times to learn you can never trust cheerleaders (and beautiful people). Rachel was furious that Sana tried to prank her by asking her on a date.
But when it comes time for Rachel to cast her senior project, she realizes that there's no more perfect lead than Sana--the girl she's sneered at in the halls for the past three years. And poor Sana--she says yes. She never did really get over that first crush, even if Rachel can barely stand to be in the same room as her.
Told in alternative viewpoints and set against the backdrop of Los Angeles in the springtime, when the rainy season rolls in and the Santa Ana's can still blow--these two girls are about to learn that in the city of dreams, anything is possible--even love.”
TL;DR Tell Me How You Really Feel is an ode to romantic comedies, following two girls on opposite sides of the social scale as they work together to make a movie and try very hard not to fall in love. Cheerleader meets film nerd, enemies to lovers.
I found this book through one of those tik tok videos where someone is flinging books off a pile at light speed under a caption “queer SA (South Asian) books you need to read”. I absolutely love those videos, even though they test my screenshotting abilities.
It’s been a while since I updated this blog(?) and that’s because I’ve been very busy finishing out the school year and reading every gay book I could get my hands on over the course of pride month. I will be posting reviews of those books soon, but in a quick review so far this month I’ve read:
• Last Night At The Telegraph Club
• Unearthed (graphic novel)
• Café con Leche
• Eighty Days (graphic novel)
• Tell Me How You Really Feel (this review!)
• The Raven Cycle (yes all 4 books, no I will not be reviewing)
Honorable mention: All 50 episodes of The Untamed (SUCH a good cdrama) & Season 1 of Stranger Things
I’ve realized over the course of this book binge that I prefer my enemies to lovers to have good reasoning - or at least understandable reasoning on both sides. My favorite part is seeing how that can morph into love without either realizing until it’s too late *cue evil laughter*
Tell Me How You Really Feel does that perfectly. I especially loved how it was written - the characters were flawed, raw and dynamic, and the writing style reminded me of books by Nicola Yoon (The Sun is Also a Star, Everything Everything). The romance isn’t necessarily the focus - it’s shoved in on the shelf along with everything else happening in the characters lives. The story simply starts (ish) and ends with the life of their romance within that.
And because this is a gay high school romance between a cheerleader and a film nerd, of course there are a million movie references, from Pakeezah to Pretty in Pink.
Meena Kumari 😩🧎🏽♀️
But real quick, let’s talk
Representation
Sana Khan and Rachel Recht, the main characters, are both into women. Although their sexualities aren’t explicitly stated, this part is made very clear.
Sana is desi, and Persian and Indian if I remember correctly? Her family is very mixed and has a lot of languages (Bengali, Urdu, Arabic, Persian, French, etc). She is second-gen American, while I’m pretty sure Rachel is first-gen (at least on her mom’s side).
Rachel is Mexican and Jewish, and her family consists of just her and her father (and their larger community) in comparison to Sana’s many cousins and aunties/uncles. Her full name is Rachel Consuela Recht, which I’m guessing is to show her mixed cultures.
For Sana I can somewhat call this an own voices review on representation, but please keep in mind the Indian (and larger desi community) is not a monolith & we won’t all agree on my own interpretation.
What I really liked about representation for Sana and her family was it is very women-centric. Her grandmother, Mamani, is very clearly the matriarch, and Farrah, Sana’s mom, is a single mother working in the film industry. In western literature desi culture is typically portrayed as oppressing women, especially in Muslim households, but this stereotype is flipped on its head by Sana’s family. It also showed how within a religion certain family members can be more religious than others - Sana & her Mamani are more religious (praying regularly, not drinking, etc) while Farrah is less so - and there’s no negative connotation on it.
Rachel and Sana both engage in religious holidays over the course of the book (Norwuz for Sana, Passover for Rachel). Since I’m neither Muslim or Jewish, it was interesting to learn more about the holidays and how they’re celebrated.
Single parenting rep (Rachel raised by her dad, Sana raised by her mom) was also really good. As someone being raised by a single mom & at one point a single dad, the struggle is portrayed really well.
Finally, I love that Sana fills the character of pretty perfect Gilmore-girls-esque cheerleader. Brown women don’t often get to be portrayed as lovely and soft and also raw and real at the same time. It really hit my heart 💗 Sana’s features are seen as beautiful by everyone around her - like a commonly accepted fact. She’s the official “pretty girl” of her school - and so much more beneath that.
What I Loved:
Aside from the good rep, the way the book is written is just ✨ poetic ✨
“Sana smiled, and suddenly Rachel understood every stupid love poem comparing the beloved to the sun.”
HOW DO I RECOVER??
Mainly though, I think this book came at the right time for me. Sana’s situation was really relatable to me, and her storyline actually helped me figure out some stuff in my own life (no spoilers!)
If you’re worried about the future, or planning to become a doctor or lawyer - read this book.
I’m also a sucker for big movie style gestures so this was a plus. I could see how the book was going to end generally way before the end, and that made it more of a comfort read than an “intellectual” read. I loved the character development as well - some serious words of wisdom in there!
As someone who wants to go to college in LA, and can’t afford to visit, this is as close as it gets to seeing what life there is like for me 😂 I’m curious to see what those Santa Anas feel like!
Why I couldn’t give it a 10:
I wasn’t the biggest fan of Rachel’s character to be honest. She hated Sana so much at the beginning, for something that had happened in their freshman year (the story takes place in their senior year). I could understand animosity, but it was another level. It made me think Rachel had anger issues - she seemed really self pitying and insecure. Which would have been fine - I’m all for character development - if she had realized that. But Rachel never seemed to come to terms with the fact that she had treated Sana like sh*t at every turn for nearly 4 years. It’s not that they don’t fall in love (this is a love story) but she doesn’t really feel remorseful for how she acted.
On set, when she’s directing the crew, the way she treated them reminded me of Michael Scott from the Office 😭
I also wish there had been more focus on the other characters in the book. Farrah, Sana’s mom, and Daniel, Rachel’s dad, kind of felt like glorified plot devices, especially near the end. Same goes for Diesel, Sana’s so-called best friend. We don’t actually see a lot of their relationship aside from Diesel giving her rides from school and then playing video games with her. In the end, his purpose was also a little plot device-y, a little serving the main ship, etc.
I liked that Diesel subverted the dumb insensitive jock trope, but I would have loved to see more of him and Maddie (another cheerleader)!
^unrelated but I love this scene (very scary cheerleader)
Overall, the book was a satisfying beach read (as in, I literally read it on the beach). Feel good, decent character development (on Sana’s part), and it gave me something I’d really been searching for: an enemies to lovers story between queer women of color in high school. Like babe- this is my niche!!
And yes, I cried at the end.
I sincerely recommend to fans of:
The Sun is Also A Star
Everything Everything
Movies (if you’re a movie nerd, you’re going to get wayy more of these references than I did)
But I’m A Cheerleader (movie)
Sense 8 (show) especially if you like the wlw couple
Most of my reviews for this month are going to be LGBTQ+ stories between PoC 🏳️🌈 so stay tuned!
#book review#bipocbookstagram#poc books#booklr#diverse reads#lgbtq books#tell me how you really feel#aminah mae safi#lets go lesbians#everything everything#the sun is also a star#queer enemies to lovers#enemiestolovers#cheerleader#film nerd#happy pride 🌈#queer bipoc#queer desi
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Its been about 5ish years since i finally broke through the mental block about being transgender. I started to make progress with a lot of help and calm understanding from my partner, who has been so incredibly patient with me. I love them so much.
This post is about setbacks.
In October 2018, I lost a very good friend.
Her name was Luna. She was the closest thing i had to a sister or best girl friend. She was so supportive while I was going through my initial coming out. I initially came out as gay. But that wasn't quite right. I had a lot of suppressed memories and feelings. I'd spent so much time cramming them into the back of my Narnia sized closet. I was trying to chip through decades of walls put up due to abuse and repression.
I moved to Washington state from Missouri. I'm not originally from there, but I finished highschool and college in Missouri. So I guess its close enough to 'home' for me.
Moving to washington involved bringing with me only what I could carry on to a flight and a single checked bag. My work paid to fly me up for initial incoming employee medical and training. They said they wouldn't pay for moving me. But jokes on them, I didnt own much.
I found a large share-house in a Navy town, owned by a sailors' wife. She rented rooms out on short term basis while her husband came and went for deployments. Super nice family. I moved in, traveled for work for about 6 months, then came back. I was offered my old room, but was cautioned "theres a small family with kids in the rooms across the hall" well, I come downstairs wearing some fisherman pants I had picked up in Thailand and a Beer Chang shirt.
This new person recognizes them immediately, they'd traveled to many of the same areas i had traveled to. We'd been there in similar times, probably passed each other on buses or trains at least once.
We became instant friends. Which only got closer once her autistic son pretty much attached himself to me.
"Well, if he thinks youre safe. Youre safe."
Then her husband came home with other kiddo and we all became a nearly instant found family.
It was the first time I'd felt like I had a real family that cared about each other more than just surface level. Other than my brothers, that is. But this was so much closer.
Well, over time, we went to seattle pride a couple times, unpacked a lot of the things I had crammed into that closet of my mind. Peeled away the layers of masks and denial-of-self I'd built over the years.
I didn't have to hide anymore.
I always felt like I was on the edge of breaking through that last barrier. But couldn't nail down what it was. I'd spent so many years convincing myself that I definitely wasn't trans, so it couldn't be that. Right? Oh you egg. You absolute egg, you.
I eventually traveled more with work. Met my current partner, and while we spent time together on work travel, I had my big breakthrough. That will make it into a future post. This one is about Luna.
I came home and met up with Luna and her family, and told them what i had figured out. Of course she immediately accepted me. She pulled out her diary and had a page from a year or more back that said she thought I might come out as trans and how much she wanted to help me. But knew it couldn't be rushed.
We laughed, cried, and had a small party. I had always liked the name Ellie or something similar. I was still working out what root name to use (I now lean towards Amelia. For Mellie, Mel, or Ellie).
Well, once again. I got busy with work, but eventually, Luna and I made plans for some 'girl time' and then a game day with the rest of the family.
I met up with them at their work on thursday, then planned to hang out friday night for a late night girls night. Movies, popcorn, mostly talking and maybe some makeup practice.
Then Friday came. While out for dinner with my partner and their family, I get a phone call from Luna's stepdaughter's mom. Asking if I had heard from them. They hadnt shown up for the usual weekend kiddo pickup. She called since I was an alternate, but there wasnt any plan that I knew of.
One increasingly panicked drive later (after finding out theyd not been at work either) and I'm greeted by a large police response at their home.
TW: domestic violence and death
After being questioned, assisting in making contact with other necessary parties (other family members and friends to establish timelines) and eventually meeting with everyone while we were assuming it was a missing person case. We were informed it was a probable murder-suicide.
Luna passed on October 19th 2018. She was killed by her husband. I don't know why, but have my suspicions. Her husband had always joked "oh i'd kill ya" in a cartoony way when she joked that she'd leave. Looking back, we now know it wasn't a joke.
That loss took the wind out of my sails. I packed all the things back up along with processing her death. It took me a long time to start feeling closer to normal again.
So I dove into my work. It involved a lot of overseas travel, so I could be away from all the things that reminded me of them.
I cut my hair, stopped shaving, grew my beard back out. Any therapy sessions didn't broach the subject of gender identity because I'd lost my best friend. My depression was spiraling due to the political climate, rise of fascism, anti-trans legislation, and everything to do with covid.
I returned from an overseas trip and decided to stay home for a year. I'd spent 5 years with 75% of the time spent in Japan. Only to find out my therapist had suddenly disappeared off the face of the earth. And now I need to start at square one again..
And thats where I am today.
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Burn out? Not while I'm pouring gallons of diesel into the flames.
I want to spend this morning before work working on my comic, but you see, I am deeply upset about something. Is it something, or is it everything? Is my brain chemistry sabotaging me today? I have been kind of manic for a while. Not sure exactly how long. Time has really gotten away from me. Could it be that I've been working 50 hour weeks on the ranch in 100F heat? The thing about my uncle with the terminal brain tumor? Nobody wants to tell me what the hell is going on there. An old best friend untagging herself in one of my posts and not bothering to text me back for several days? I mean... she's probably fine. She's just busy. She probably doesn't suddenly hate me. If she does I guess it's a free country, especially for bigots. Could it be pride month being a constant reminder that most of my family never really loved me and thinks I'm demon possessed? I thought I was over that. Am I just exhausted from single-handedly training the new teen employee? Getting misgendered way more than normal because he insists on calling me ma'am even though I told him not to? I think I am socially burned out. There were a bunch of interpersonal conflicts I had to sort out for clients and coworkers on saturday and ever since then I can barely listen to my audiobooks. My temper is boiling and I'm falling apart except I'm not because I'm very much together, obviously. I do feel possessed whenever clients or coworkers talk to me. Possessed by the spirit of flawless professionalism and customer service. It's so creepy honestly. I can be standing alone in the barn on the verge of screaming and falling to my knees in despair and someone will walk in and smile and say, "Hey how's it going?" and I'll go, "Great! How've you been? How's your horse? What can I do for you?" And then go through the whole dialogue tree without a single negative emotion clouding my thoughts. Personality: Error 404. But it's cool it's great it's all good because nobody ever notices. I'm so good at being normal about it. Under it all I'm still viscerally aware that nothing I could ever do would actually make me less disposable to this company or this whole community I'm not really a real part of. I could've spent the last two hours working on my comic but there's all this harsh static fizzing in my head. I know something is bothering me but I'm not sure exactly what.
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Fic Writer Questions
Thanks for tagging me @kitaychan 🧡
1.) How many works do you have on AO3
22
2.) What’s your total AO3 count?
82,884
3.) How many fandoms have you written for and what are they?
as of now I'm only writing for hetalia, but there's a couple of short drabbles on my abandoned marvel blog and some unposted sherlock stuff 👀
4.) What are your top 5 fics by kudos?
1. Say it. (rusame) and the nsfw drabble collection are on the same count rn
2. a visitor. (rusame)
3. How'd I ever get so lost? (pruk)
4. Let's get this over with, shall we? (prukden)
5. Unwinding Mr. Kirkland (mint chocolate - england x 2p america)
5.) What’s the fic you’ve written with the angstiest ending?
Ohh that's easy, Just once, before it's too late. I really put my everything into this. 💔
6.) What’s the fic you’ve written with the happiest ending?
That would be my 5 times crack fic. It's really cute and I still love the last chapter. 🥰
7.) Do you write crossovers? If so, what is the craziest one you’ve written?
I'm not interested in crossovers at all so I haven't written any.
8.) Do you write smut? If so, what kind?
Yes, that's most of what I write and it's whatever I find hot. 😅 I cannot write porn if it's not something I think would be sexy cause I know it won't come out good and I take pride and writing good smut. Other than that I don't really have a preference for which kind of gender/sex to write. If I care enough about a character there will eventually be a nsfw scenario featuring them on my mind :)
9.) Do you respond to comments, why or why not?
I usually do, because it makes me happy when someone takes the time to comment on my fics and I want them to know 💜
10.) Have you ever received hate on a fic?
Luckily, no. ✌
11.) Have you ever had a fic stolen?
Again, luckily, no. ✌
12.) Have you ever had a fic translated?
No, but I'd be lying if I said I never thought about writing a fic in english and a translation in my native language just for fun.
13.) Have you ever co-written a fic before?
No, but I will hopefully one day turn a rp between maryeve and me into a fic so I guess that would count?
14.) What’s your all time favorite ship?
It changes a lot but rn I love CanRus, nyo america x england, SuFin x DenNor, and FrUsUk. 💕
15.) What’s a WIP that you want to finish but you don’t think you ever will?
The unposted frying pangle smut from my google docs. I started writing it about two years ago and haven't looked at it in more than a year. By now I'd probably hate it so much I'd have to rewrite the whole thing.. 😶
16.) What are your writing strengths?
I have been told I'm good with (dramatic) character introductions and setting the mood. I always get these super detailed images in my head and then I try to convey those feelings and pictures into words and I'd say I'm doing very well with that. ✨🔥
17.) What are your writing weaknesses?
Plot, planning things ahead, and actually posting the stuff I do finish. 💀
18.) What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in fic?
I like it when it's just single words that are not plot relevant (like greetings and short exclamations that can be made sense of in the context), but you will never find me writing entire paragraphs in a different language just to make you scroll to the end of a fic multiple times throughout a chapter so you can look for a translation (sorry if I sound like bitch here but I hate having my reading flow interrupted rip)
19.) What was the first fandom you wrote for?
Sherlock (BBC) I think there's still one of the fics on my ancient instagram lol
20.) What’s your favorite fic you’ve written?
This is easier to answer than I thought when I first read through these questions, but it's definitely Unwinding Mr. Kirkland. I spent months editing it until I was happy with it and I love it I love every last sentence I wrote there. 💖
Tagging:
@breitzbachbea @mpregfrance @alifeasvivid (no pressure as always 😚)
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