#I know nothing about them but they sound nice

[lulunothulu]

“Phone neighbor”

Jake “Hangman” Seresin x Reader

Summary: You’re bored one night and decide to text your phone neighbor…who happens to be a very hot (and cocky) aviator.

Content: drinking, fluff

Friday nights are so boring. Especially when you have nothing to do for the night.

Your friend, Natasha, invited you to go to the bar she and her aviator buddies frequent. Hard Deck, was that the name? Who knows. Either way, you didn’t think hitting a bar right now would do you much good.

You’d been in a reclusive and lonely mood all week but right now, you were feeling adventurous.

You pull your phone out of your pocket and dial the first nine digits of your number but changed the last number to the following one that came after yours.

Let’s play a game of phone number neighbor.

You: Hi, so this is random, but you’re my number neighbor.

Them: Oh really?

You: Yes… so you’re from Texas too?

Them: Born and raised in Austin.

You: That’s so cool, I was raised in El Paso and Houston.

Them: Nice! Are you still there?

You: Nah, I’m in California. How about you?

Them: Funny enough, I’m in California too. I’m in the Navy, a pilot 🤠

You: Oh shit! You might know my friend, Natasha Trace.

———

Jake smiled down at his phone. “Hey Phoenix!”

Nat turns around, rolling her eyes at him. “What?”

“I think I just met your friend.”

“What?” She looks around. “Where? And who?”

“I don’t know their name, let me ask,” he says. He looks down at his phone, sending a quick text before smiling and telling her your name.

“Holy shit!” She laughs.

“Is she single?” Jake asks.

“She is actually…give me a second.”

———

“Hello?” You say, answering your phone.

“What the hell are you doing?” Nat asks.

You can hear the noise and chatter coming from the bar you knew she’d be at.

“I’m at home doing a face mask,” you tell her.

“No I mean, with Hangman,” she tells you.

“Who’s Hangman?”

“The person you’re texting?” She laughs.

Hangman: So you know Phoenix? How?

You: We grew up together. She’s practically my sister.

“Hey, he’s texting me right now,” you tell her.

“I have an idea.”

Hangman: What do you look like?

You: I’ll send you a picture of you send me one too.

Hangman: What? You want proof?

You: Sure, let’s call it that.

Hangman: [Picture]

Hangman: I’m on the left, that’s Bob in the middle, and Fanboy on the end.

Hangman: Your turn.

You smile, sending him a picture of you with your green face mask, hand up in a peace sign and lips in a duck face position.

Hangman: That’s not what I expected but still hot.

Hangman: Wait a second… did Nat call you?

You: Maybe…

[Incoming call from ‘Hangman’]

“Hello?”

“Hey, mask lady. Nat!” You hear him say. His voice is deep and southern drawl thick. “Tell your friend to send me a real picture of her.”

“Y/N?” You hear her say.

“Hey, Nat.”

“Send this pretty boy your face. He’s desperate and threatening to make me drive him to your house.”

You laugh. “Fine. Should I send the one with my tits pushed up?”

“Jesus Christ, tell her yes.” You hear Hangman say in the background.

“Tell him that I’ll send him a normal one and to stop listening to our conversation,” you tell Nat. “Actually, pass him back.”

“Hi,” you hear Hangman say.

“Hi back, cowboy,” you reply.

“I like that nickname, makes me sound a lot cooler than I am,” he tells you.

You laugh. “I’d like to know your real name, and not your callsign.”

“I’m Jake. Jake Seresin,” he tells you. “You don’t have to tell me your name. I already know.”

“Yeah I figured that much,” you mutter.

“When can I see you in person?” He asks.

“When are you free?” You smile and bite your lip.

“How about now? Come to Hard Deck.”

“I don’t really do bars…”

“Then I’ll come to you. What’s your address?”

You laugh. “I don’t even know you like that. What if you’re a psycho?”

“I wouldn’t be a top pilot in the navy sweetheart.” You chuckle, making him wait before he asks, “Soooo can I come over?”

“Have you been drinking?”

“Not really,” he tells you.

“Okay.”

“Okay?”

“You can come over. But bring food, I’m starving.” You tell him.

“Same,” he tells you. “And it’ll give you enough time to get ready and wash that face mask off.”

Fuck I forgot about that.

“I’ll see you soon.”

———

A face wash, makeup application, and teeth brushing later, you hear Hangman—Jake—ring the doorbell.

After changing into some cute sweats, you run downstairs and answer the door.

“Hey,” you say.

“Hey yourself,” he says. He’s a lot taller than you thought he’d be. And a lot hotter than you thought too. He holds up a bag of takeout and a gym bag. “I brought food and a change of clothes.”

He’s wearing his khaki Aviation uniform still.

“Yeah, come on in.” You step to the side, allowing him to come in. “Bathroom’s down the hall and to the left.”

“Thank you, ma’am,” he smiles.

God his smile made him so much hotter.

When he comes back from the bathroom changed and in gray sweatpants and a Texas Longhorns shirt, you smile and wave him over to your couch.

“What’re you watching?” He asks.

“Nothing that the moment,” you tell him. “I was waiting for you.”

“How sweet.” He smiles. “This has to be the best first date I’ve a been on in a long time.”

“Who said this was a date?” You ask, raising your eyebrows.

“Oh, did I assume?” He cockily smirks at you which makes your cheeks turn red. “And from the way you’re blushing, I’d say you’d like this to be a date.”

“Shut up,” you mutter, a smile playing on your lips.

Two hours later, Jake is still at your place and your head is resting on his shoulder.

“That was a cute movie,” he tells you. “Why did I cry so much?”

“Because Toy Story 3 is ruthless,” you sigh, wiping your eyes.

“Either way, I don’t think I can sleep if we don’t watch something else.”

You sit up and face him. “Why? You too sad to leave?”

“No, I don’t want to leave yet,” he says truthfully. “Plus, it’s my turn to choose a movie.”

“Which is?”

“Legally Blonde.”

You smile, scoffing before laughing and shaking your head. “You surprise me.”

“In a good way, I hope.”

“Definitely,” you nod.

“Can I surprise you one more time?” He asks, voice barely over a whisper.

You shrug and smirk. “Depends on what it is.”

He places a hand on your cheek, snaking his fingers to the back of your neck.

“Can I ask you one more thing?”

“That counts as a question,” you whisper.

He chuckles. “That one doesn’t count.”

“Go ahead.”

He takes a deep breath, leaning in close to the point his nose touches your own. Your heart is pounding, excitement and anticipation flowing through your body.

“Can I kiss you?”

“Please do.”

So he does, soft and sweet at first. That is, until you pull his head in, deepening the kiss. Your mouths race, devouring and exploring every inch of your mouths. You shift your body, straddling Jake’s lap and wrapping your arms around his neck, something you notice feels so normal, you don’t want it to end.

“Take me upstairs.” You order.

“Yes ma’am.”

[luveline]

Hii! I'm in love with your Hotch adult daughter fics. Could we get one where she is getting bullied in college or where she works and then Hotch finds out somehow and helps her? Please please :)

thanks so much for requesting! fem, 1.2k

He decides to surprise you. He’s at risk of embarrassing himself greatly, and he’s okay with that risk. 

Hotch stands outside of the George Washington University and winces in the hot weather. The sun beats down on the back of his neck. He’s more aware of how little sun protection he uses as the time stretches on, waiting for you, but he doesn’t mind it. He’s worn full suits in the Nevada desert. 

You emerge from the main building where your last class for the day takes place. He dropped you off here last week, got to watch you walk in and say hi to the custodian. It was a nice insight of who you are, someone he’s proud to be the father of though he had little hand in what you’ve become. 

Behind you are two female classmates. 

Hotch pauses under the tree he’d taken refuge by. 

He can’t hear what they’re saying, but he can see the rigidity of your shoulders, your hackles rising as they talk. The brunette gets a nasty look on her face, to which you respond, and the blonde’s volume begins to rise. 

The brunette looks like she might reach for you. “Don’t touch me,” you warn. 

Hotch steps in. 

“Hey, excuse me,” he says, loudly and firmly, the Unit Chief tone in play. He’s gotten very good at raising his voice without shouting. “What’s going on here?”

The two women who were talking to you falter, but the brunette stays fiery. “We’re just talking.” 

“About what?” 

“It’s none of your business.” 

“If you’re going to lay your hands on her, it becomes my business,” he says. 

There’s a guilt to the blonde’s expression that proves you’d been thinking correctly and that she was going to touch you, even if it were only to grab your wrist, but she bristles and denies. “We weren’t.” 

“Then you have no reason to stay.” 

You frown deeply. “No, they can finish. Clearly they think it’s important–”

“But do you think it’s important?” Hotch asks you. 

Your frown, your anger beginning to ebb. You take a breath. “I suppose not.” 

Hotch levels the women with a look. Just a look, not interrogative or heated, but prompting —it’s the kind of look he gives people when he wants them to realise they’ve missed their cue to leave. 

“See you next week, then,” the brunette says, a threat he abhors. 

“I’m sure she will,” he says, hoping anything unsaid is felt. He has no idea who they are or what you’ve apparently done to make them angry, but you won’t be intimidated. 

“Do I need to talk with Dean Langley?” he asks, turning to you as the women walk out of hearing range. 

“Aaron.” You look at him, look like him, not in appearance but the pinch to your brow as you rub the bridge of your nose. “I’m sorry you had to deal with that.” 

“What?” 

“They do it to me every time I’m here.” 

“They do?” 

You sound like it’s a chore. “They think I’m sleeping with our professor.” 

“Why would they think that?” 

“Because ever since I stopped working, my grades are much better, n’ they think I cheated my way there.” 

Oh, of course. Hotch tries to do something good by you —he’s started giving you a little chunk of money every week so you don’t have to work anymore, nothing obsequious but enough to cover everything you need, rent and food and transportation, clothes, textbooks, and he made it clear you can ask for more— and it makes things worse for you instead. Still, “Your grades are improving?” 

“I’m doing pretty well,” you confess shyly. 

He holds your shoulder. “I’m sorry they’re jealous, and I’m sorry they’re inventing a narrative to cope. I really can speak with Dean Langley if you need me to.” 

You smile and let yourself lean into his touch. “Inventing a narrative to cope,” you repeat. “That’s a good one. I’ll use that one.” 

You have more fight in you, it seems. “If it gets too much, just let me know. You don’t have to entertain their delusion.” 

“I’ll use that one, too.” 

He laughs, hand sliding behind your back to hug you from the side, his nose briefly pressing to your temple before he gives you space again. “I was hoping I’d catch you on your way out, are you busy? Let me take you to dinner, celebrate your performance.” 

“You realise I wouldn’t have improved without your help?” you ask. 

“I think any parent in my position should provide for their kid,” he says easily. “It’s not help. Not everyone can support their children through college, but I can, and I wish I had been from the start.” 

“You don’t owe me anything,” you say. 

He nudges you into a walk toward his car. “I owe you more than you realise.” 

He takes you to an early dinner, and celebrates your improving grades with the dessert of your choosing. Conversation with you can sometimes feel strange. It’s hard to think you were a kid once and he’d never met you, but then he realises how young twenty two really is, how you’re still willing, longing for him to be a father to you. You’re smug that he’d go to the dean to for you. You like that he stepped in. And you love being doted on, being encouraged. He can see that easily. 

“When can I come back to see Jack?” you ask eventually. 

He wishes he could say whenever you like, but he has a hard time following Haley’s movements. “I’ll ask. Soon, I promise.”

“He took great care of me.” 

The last time you’d stayed over, Jack acted like you were the best thing since sliced bread (which you are, in Hotch’s eyes). 

“You know, he had a little trouble with bullies last year.” 

“They aren’t bullies,” you say, taking a bashful bite of your ice cream. 

“No, of course not. But he’ll understand, if you want to tell him about it.”

“Aaron, he’s five.” 

“He’s six,” he corrects. 

“Oh, sorry. But still, I don’t think Jack wants to deal with that. I couldn’t unload on him, he’s my… you know, he’s my little brother.” 

“Then tell me about it, at least.” 

“You saw the most of it.” 

He sighs. Wishes you’d call him dad, understands why you don’t, and can’t think of what to do. It was easier when Jack had trouble, because little kids bully each other almost on accident. They don’t know what they’re doing is wrong, having learned the behaviour from their parents. It’s almost never personal. 

Your situation is not the same. 

“I’ll talk to the dean,” he suggests again. 

“Don’t bother. It’s alright. And if it gets worse, I’ll tell you.” 

He smiles, reaching over plates to squeeze your hand briefly. “Thank you.” 

You look down at your food. Some shyness to you still at being cared about. “Thank you,” you mumble. 

[nephilimbrute]

ok since you guys don't know anything about my agent 8's personality, i'm doing a huge infodump on them. enjoy

Agent 8; they/them, nonbinary — 24 as of current time, in a relationship with Agent 4 and Captain 3

they're pretty, but also one of the worst people you'll meet. everyone who met them has had something terrible happen to them, basically a bad omen...yet they still think they're a saint! 8 is very narcissistic, but also very self-critical. they think they can be the only one to do something, that they're the best at it...but they know this is wrong, so they hate themself for it

they think they're a very fragile and innocent being, like a deer. they want to live a calm and steady life, no excessively loud or overwhelming sounds and music, just them and their close ones. they enjoy writing poetry and creating art to the likes of vincent van gogh, but also impressionism in general. they have a very bad memory now, so they want to capture the present time as best as they can if it ever gets worse. often times, 8 thinks about any big events that are coming up in the near future (concerts, festivals, etc.). they don't like to think about the future outside of these things (was team present if that wasn't obvious)

they used to be full of emotion, expressing and voicing their thoughts well. but slowly over time, they've became numb to most things to prevent themself from being embarassed by...sadness. they think being upset is embarassing, and are easily annoyed by gloomy people. they have such little sympathy, but it still exists. they are capable of love! it's not hard to crack through their shell, nor do they even have one. 8 themself is aware of how they've changed over the years, and they want to go back to how they used to be; loving, sympathetic, mindful of others. they do feel very sorry for the change in their personality, but the partial sanitization that was done to them makes it difficult to revert to their old self

8 feels like they're putting up a front when they want to be nice, and, they can be compassionate and apologetic sometimes. they deeply wish for anyone who recognized them pre-octo expansion to forgive them, even if they did nothing wrong

because of the whole octo expansion situation, 8 has developed truman syndrome, paranoia, and heavily dislikes anything involving a smart AI or robotics. this is one of the reasons why marina pisses them off so badly. to 8, they think that they've caused no harm, and every mistake they've done was not entirely their fault. they make a lot of people uncomfortable in some way without touching anyone or saying anything. despite all that, they respect people's personal space a lot!..other than pearl and marina, who they used to watch sleep before being kicked out

now, onto their relationships. 8 is doing fine with agent 4, he's nice to them so they like him... but so is cap3, yet 8 might be one of the worst things that ever happened to her. cap3 really wants some alone time and hates being stared at, and 8 does the exact opposite of that. they don't touch her at her request, but they Will stare at her whenever she's doing anything, at any given time. they don't process in their mind that they want to make her uncomfortable, they just sort of...do?

^ i only limited this to a bit so i won't delve Too deep and go off topic. you can ask about that if you want

i guess you could say they have some kind of parental issues? i don't know, they can't remember who their biological parents are anyways. they have a strong attachment to marina though, can't decide if they wanna be her or want her to adopt them. kind of "eh" with pearl, still respects him nonetheless

congratulations! if you've read until the end, here's a human 8 doodle :3

[inheritedbelly]

Heavy Lifting

I start the day excited about the new job. It's not what I dreamed of, of course, but it's a start, a way to gain experience and, maybe, distract myself from the mess my life has become. I work in the warehouse of a factory. I'm an apprentice to Mr. Fred, a big, sweaty 60-year-old man. When I arrived, he was leaning against a pile of boxes, breathing slowly, the weight of his enormous belly rising and falling. He has a deep, thick voice that seems to resonate in his chest, but what stands out the most is his size. I'm not talking about his height, but his width. The guy is huge, almost as if life had shaped him around a giant belly. When he laughs, it feels like his whole body shakes. I can't imagine being in his skin, it must be uncomfortable and gross, but aside from that, he's a nice guy.

The work is exhausting. We carry and move boxes, organize shelves. Things are always missing, and we're the ones responsible for keeping everything in order. I just wish my life was like that—organized. At the end of the day, after lifting heavy things all day, Fred suggests we sit down and talk for a bit. Sitting across from him, I start to open up. I don’t know why, but the words come out before I can hold them back. I talk about my issues with my dad, how I don’t have a mom, and how the pressure to choose a college is suffocating me. I don’t know what I want to do with my life, I just wish I could skip this phase, wake up one day and have everything figured out. Fred listens attentively, his gaze heavy, almost as if he’s absorbing everything I’m saying. He nods slowly, and after a pause, he laughs, slapping his large belly. "Funny," he says. "I wish for the opposite. I wish I could be young again. Skinny. Do everything over, make different choices." His laughter fades, and he looks at the floor for a moment. Then, he looks at me with a strange gleam in his eyes. "You know what, kid? I think I know how to solve our problem." He snaps his fingers, and before I can respond, my vision goes black.

When I wake up, the first thing I feel is a strange coldness on my head. I reach up to the top of my head and… nothing. I'm bald. My heart races, and I look down, terrified. I see a huge belly, a round sphere dominating my field of vision, as if it’s an extension of me, but… it can’t be. The striped shirt covering this body isn’t mine. I try to get up from the armchair I’m sitting in, but everything feels different. Heavy. I grab the belly, this mass of flabby flesh that seems to be part of me now, and I look at my hands. They’re large, wrinkled, covered in saggy skin. It’s like I’m wearing gloves of flesh. I feel panic rising, and I let out a scream, but the sound that comes out of my throat isn’t mine. It’s hoarse, old. I bring my hand to my neck and feel a double chin. Horror overwhelms me, and I fall forward, my body too heavy to keep balance.

I lift my head, struggling, and I see my old body standing there, smiling at me with a malicious look. Everything clicks in an instant. I’ve switched bodies with Fred.

"What the hell did you do?" I shout, my voice now rougher than ever. Fred, in my body, lets out a short, mocking laugh. "Relax, kid. It was just a spell. A solution to our little problem."

I panic. "Undo it! I want my life back! My youth!" But he just shakes his head, still laughing. "You can’t. The spell can only be done once. Now it’s permanent."

My heart, or what was left of it in that old body, starts pounding out of control. I stumble backward, trying to process this new reality. I feel the belly wobbling with every step I take, like an anchor dragging me down. This can’t be true. This can’t be happening.

I run, or at least I try to, to the office bathroom. I lock the door behind me and look in the mirror. The reflection shows me an old, sweaty man with a desperate expression on his face. The face isn’t mine. The skin is full of wrinkles, the cheeks sagging. I run my hand over my face, unable to believe what I see. I can’t stop holding my belly. It’s always there, like a constant reminder that I’m now someone else. Fred knocks on the door, and I hear his voice—my voice from before. “Hey, it’s not going to be that bad, let’s be honest. Now you have what you wanted, and I have what I wanted.” I scream in response, but the truth is that I’m trapped. There’s no going back. Fred then enters and gives a light squeeze to my enormous stomach. I yell at him to leave, and then he steps back. He closes the bathroom door, and I, still in shock and confused about what happened, am left unsure of what to do. I lift my shirt and see: a big belly, covered in hair. I also notice that my chest, which was normal before, is now larger and sagging. With every step I take, I feel my body moving in a way I’ve never felt before. It’s uncomfortable and strange. I turn around and notice that my backside has also changed; it’s now much bigger. I look in the mirror, trying to understand what has happened. The person in the reflection doesn’t seem like me, but the way the body moves makes it clear that, unfortunately, it is mine now.

I leave the bathroom and find Fred, who is now in my body. He smiles and makes an ironic comment, asking if I’m ready. I quickly pull down my shirt and, unsure of what to do, ask, “So now what are we going to do?”

When I leave the bathroom, Fred tells me I can go to his place, which is now my home. I have no choice. Walking through the streets is hell. Every step is a huge effort. I feel sweat dripping down my body, especially between the folds of my belly and on my back. And it’s just a short walk. Upon arriving at the apartment, Fred shows me everything—where the things are, the bathroom, the pantry. During this little tour, I’m extremely out of breath from the walk. My belly bumps into everything around the house. He tells me about his routine. Now, it’s my routine. Because of the heat, I take off my clothes, and my now free belly is enormous. As I squeeze through the house, my stomach occasionally bumps into Fred, who is in my way. “Sorry,” I say, even though I’m not the one to blame for this situation; he is! He’s the one who stuck me in this huge body, but honestly, I’m too out of breath for another argument. As soon as he leaves me alone in my new room, he says, “See you tomorrow, boss,” winking before closing the door. I get ready to take a shower, which is at least strange since I’ve never had to bathe a fat old man before, let alone be the old man myself. I feel the loose skin and the weight of the fat on me. Lying down on the bed is even worse; as soon as I collapse onto the bed, my huge new belly settles against my body in an uncomfortable way, and I have to turn over, quickly causing it to fall to my side. I let out a heavy sigh. “What was I wishing for?”

Lying on the bed, with not many options for comfort, I close my eyes, trying to believe that everything was just a nightmare and that tomorrow everything will be back to normal. But it’s hard to believe that it was just a dream, considering how real everything felt. Even lying there, I had a lot of physical contact with every part of my body, since I was now bulkier. I couldn’t just run my hand over my body without my hairy arm brushing against my hairy stomach. So, I would turn to the side, still thinking my slim body would react. But instead, I felt the weight of my new body. My brain was still that of a slim man.

I would run my hand over my forehead and remember the baldness. I would touch my face and feel the old beard. I would glide my hands over my body and notice my new bulk. It was this repetitive cycle until I finally managed to fall asleep. The next morning, when I wake up, I feel an erection, but not like it always used to be, my dick was fighting against my stomach. in a fright I quickly wake up and my eyes meet see my big stomach and the white hairs on my chest. I quickly get a shock, and suddenly everything hits me: nothing was a dream, everything was real, and this is my new lif

[hanibalistic]

#946C47 | SUN WUKONG.

genre | fluff & angst

word count | 9192

warning | violence, blood, death / potential ooc + not accurate to jttw​

note | thank you for reading!!!

part |one, two, three

Opening your eyes from death was like coming to the surface after being underwater for too long. 

Contrary to popular belief, or at least the way different forms of media presented it, death didn’t feel like anything. 

There was no black space with your floating body or a separate plane of existence where you could walk on shallow water toward an afterlife. There was simply nothing, and that 'nothing' lacked nothingness. It was blank. It was a time skip.

The last thing you remember was closing your eyes on the ground, and the first thing you remember was that you died. Nothing happened in between the two memory spots. Your mind and body were dormant, like a computer shut off. 

The first sign of life from death was obnoxious and demanding.

Your ears cleared, but every sound around you fought to be noticed by your newly awakened brain that hearing immediately became an overwhelming action. 

Your eyes regained sight, but they hurt to use, like the permanent feeling of the sun in your eyes or an invisible eyelash falling inside. 

Your limbs moved regularly when you didn't think about it and stopped when you did, which you figured made sense. You never thought long and hard about moving your body parts before you died. When you walk, you walk.

Your breathing—the worst was retaking your first breath. Your body has been rid of everything human during your death. The motion to return those characteristics, such as blood flow and the traveling of air, was as uncomfortable as breaking out of a life-threateningly bad habit, as claustrophobic as suffocating yourself with a pillow.

But mostly, it was painful. It reminded you of being impaled by Wukong's staff; the jolt of pain and the sharp gasps were familiar. 

“Woah! Easy there, mortal!” 

Bajie stood up, his rake supporting his weight as he grabbed the gourd by his hooves.

Your eyes rolled up and down, opened and closed without a recognizable pattern. Your mouth remained open since your mind was forcing you to suck in big gulps of oxygen as if it was trying to nail into your body that it was alive and functioning again.

Drool dripped down the corner of your lips as a result, and you whined through each agonizing inhale, which lasted much shorter than your exhales because you were desperate to leave the pain where it resided in your lungs.

Resurrection gripped you by the neck and took you for a fly. Bajie didn't need to see the repercussions to know your mortal soul rejected being brought back from the dead. He figured it would happen before you even woke up. It was punishing you, and your body couldn't fight back. Unfortunately, he has no spell powerful enough to elevate your humanity to the point of enduring celestial phenomena. 

“Here, drink some water,” Bajie urged by shoving the gourd at your chin. “It’ll clear your senses.” 

He stepped closer to you and tipped the gourd up, letting the water pour inside your mouth. You angled your head upward to swallow the fresh liquid better, relishing the much-needed hydration. Peering at Bajie's familiar face, relieved tears welled in your eyes before you closed them to focus on chugging the fresh river water. 

He noticed them and chose to remain silent. Dying was never a trivial matter, and neither was resurrection. It was a destined matter, but nonetheless significant and, to some, traumatic.

Although he would have never cried, whined, or writhed, he understood why you did, and that was no insult to your humanity. It was a deduction made based on the experience of a mortal. 

Not a mere mortal, just a mortal. 

"Thank you," you managed after you finished panting from the massive water intake. 

“You’re welcome.” Bajie sat down with a sigh. “I have to say, it is nice to hear your voice again after so long.”

You looked at him, confused. “What do you mean?”

"You have been dead for more than five weeks. We tried to keep your body within the incense veil of the Keeper's Shrine to accelerate the process, but that was proven unsuccessful. We thought you were gone for good, kid!" he explained. 

Brows slightly raised with intrigue, you nodded. You haven't the faintest idea how these things work in their reality, so you've got nothing worthwhile to say. "How long does it usually take someone to return from the dead?"

"Resurrection usually doesn't take this long. Not even for the mortals of this world," he said. 

“As I suspected,” you muttered before letting a groan escape. “I need the immortality to get out of my body now!”

Bajie snickered. “That’s a wish I don’t hear often!”

“Yeah, well, I am not fond of living for a long time,” you said. “Life is hard enough as it is. There is no point in extending the suffering.” 

You looked down at your hands. A flicker of your home sped before your eyes, and you sighed gently, squeezing and releasing the tension in your fingers. You wondered how much time you’ve lost over there, if you’ve missed any holidays, or important notices from your professors or employers. Were your friends worried? You hoped they didn’t think you’d ghosted them.

“I just want to live a good life. A normal one,” you said. “I don’t want anything grand. Food on the table, a roof over my head, enough clothes…” You leisurely looked up at the trees. “I can learn how to find the tiny things in life enjoyable. That’s not a problem for me.”

Bajie’s smile was arched downward, almost as if he thought you were disagreeable. But there was one thing he knew for sure: he was right. You were no mere mortal. There was nothing mere about you.

“I’m curious,” you started suddenly. “How fast is resurrection for someone who’s not a human?”

"If Wukong were to lose one of his seventy-two lives, he'd return in the blink of an eye,” he explained. “That's the only reason why I haven't tried to kill him to cease his chatterbox of a mouth!"

“Are you sure it’s not because you can’t kill him?” you chuckled airily, pulling your knees to your chest and resting your arms on top. “He is stronger than you.”

"Facts do not equal the truth," he said. "He is stronger than me, but that does not make my inability to defeat him the truth." 

“I just woke up, Bajie.” You pressed a hand to your eyes and rubbed them. “Must you speak so strangely?”

“You should learn how to speak more eloquently.”

"If I talked like that in my world, people would make fun of me." 

"Gah! Your world is full of dimwits," he scoffed. "I care not for their opinion."

You stared at him with a smirk, then nodded in agreement. You thought the same at some point, so you've decided not to argue with him. 

"Where is everyone?" You looked around. The Keeper's Shrine was full of incense, and the forest remained as you last saw it. 

“Wukong went on a walk if he’s who you’re looking for.”

You pursed your lips, feeling heat rush to the bottom of your neck at his assumption. He wasn’t entirely wrong, though. You wanted to know where Wukong was—you wanted to see him, especially after the incident that caused your death. It was his weapon that killed you, but you wanted him to know you didn’t blame him for it. 

“I was asking about everybody.” 

“There is no need to deceive me,” Bajie snorted. “He told us what happened the night you died.”

“I was right, wasn’t I?” you muttered, dipping your chin into your forearm. You remembered what happened, so you could still recall when Wukong fell to his knees from the headache Sanzang caused. 

"My Master considers you a hindrance to our journey to retrieve the scriptures. We've had to diverge from the original path to seek hidden temples, and you weren't exactly handling the soul-sucking process well. It was time-consuming, and he thought we had set aside our primary goal of obtaining the scriptures.

Although, make no mistake, my Master is virtuous, especially to humans. But pinning the scriptures against you, he prioritizes the scriptures. 

“He thought when the opportunity presents itself, we should not save you from yaoguais. That isn’t to say we cannot protect you from them, only that we should ease off on trying to keep you from dying.”

You rolled your teeth over your bottom lip, the stinging pain in your eyes conjured by your focused stare on the floor. 

Bajie provided you with the clarity you have been asking for. A question regarding whether Sanzang has changed his mind due to what happened fell silent on your tongue once your mind realized its obvious answer—no, he has not changed his opinion about you. 

As a monk with values, who is true to his religion, he cannot change his opinion about you so long as you continue to hinder their journey. 

You weren't so much angry at Sanzang for what he did than you were conflicted. He wasn't off your hook, obviously. There would be undeniable caution toward him from now on.

However, you understood his choices. He has principles that he stood by, and you respected him for that, even though, at times, you thought he was more of a slave than a follower of those rules.

“I just wish he came clean with how he felt about me instead of avoiding it,” you said. “We could have worked something out. I am willing to make accommodations.”

“I don’t believe he thought you strong enough.”

“Must I be?” 

Bajie was taken aback. His eyes gave him away, as did the clearing of his throat. He never thought about that. "Well, I–"

“It doesn’t matter," you cut off.

“If something has to happen–for the greater good, I suppose–then it shall happen regardless of my ability. I will always be human, and I will always be unlikely to defeat a monster ten times my size. That is it. My weakness is a factual statement. But… people will always suffer under the hands of destiny. What must happen can't not just because I'm too ill to handle it.

"I will continue to not be strong enough, and I will fulfill my goal while so.”

"Hmph," Bajie scoffed after a moment. There was a hint of laughter in it. He realized that you’ve forgotten an important lesson he taught you: fact does not make truth. But, he supposed there was value in your humble ignorance. “That’s the most grown-up thing I've ever heard you say."

“Thanks,” you laughed. “I learn from the best.”

"Flattery doesn't work on me, kid!" he exclaimed dismissively. "Now go find your monkey! He should be with Sanzang, taking a stroll somewhere. He'll be glad to see you!"

“Who? The monk or the monkey?”

“You know who!”

You carefully got up from the ground. Bajie watched your legs wobble briefly as you rekindled your motor functions. Slowly and steadily, you stepped away from the protection of the Keeper's Shrine, and you halfheartedly threw a peace sign in response to Bajie warning you to be aware of yaoguais.

You tried to be more aware of your surroundings as you traveled through the forest, but the sun was warm on your face, and the ground was solid beneath your feet. 

You never thought you would think this, but you were happy to feel alive again. 

It felt like summer. Your bloodied sweater was likely abandoned at the place of your death. You didn’t mind that; it wasn’t expensive, and the weather didn’t call for it. 

Every heavy step involved planning a proper reaction to finding Wukong and Sanzang. You would be glad to see them again, but you weren't sure if they felt the same. Sanzang probably wouldn't, and the last time you checked, Wukong wasn't happy about your confrontations.

It’d be best to eliminate any possible instances of awkwardness. 

After what felt like a half an hour's walk, you stopped moving forward to rest your legs. Bajie said they shouldn't be far, yet you haven't heard a trace of motion anywhere near. 

Brows furrowed, with sweat stuck to your skin, you looked around at the trees and bushes littered everywhere in the forest. None have defining features that help you determine where or how far you've gone. You stepped to the side, the friction between the ground and the bottom of your shoes ridiculously vibrant in your ear. 

Perking your head down at your feet, your gaze hardened as your ears zeroed in on the environment. Nothing. The cicadas have vanished, the leaves were not blowing, the bushes ceased their rustles, and there was no dancing breeze.

This part of the forest has become silent, and you've learned that it means a predator is lurking. 

Pinching the hem of your shirt, you held your breath in your throat as a wavering fear crept around your head like a shadow phasing in and out of sunlight—there was no way. You couldn’t be fooled twice by a yaoguai, could you? The forest housed a variety of creatures and animals. It could just be a grizzly bear! 

“Tang Sanzang!”

You flinched at the piercing holler, your hands flying up to your head to take cover until you recognized it screamed a familiar name. With bated breath, your arms fell to your sides, and you spun toward the voice. It sounded everywhere around you, an echo throughout the forest, but you recalled seeing where the birds flew from where they were hiding in the trees. 

They wouldn't fly toward the sound of danger, so you should go in the opposite direction. 

You jogged, ignoring each stumble at uneven grounds until you eventually came across a spacious field. 

An abandoned building stood destroyed as if a terrible storm had blown a hole through it. It had collapsed into itself, leaving no room to check for its interior. In front of the house was an unkept grass field flattened and charred haphazardly by what you could only assume was a forest fire. 

The sun shone down like a spotlight at the one you’ve been looking for—Sun Wukong, in the flesh, standing with his waist slightly bent and a desperate expression on his face.

You opened your mouth as you walked forward. You stopped when you almost tripped on something soft, your feet flying up and stomping on the ground behind you to catch yourself.

Instinctively glancing at the blockage, you gasped aloud when you saw the one-eyed yaoguai at your feet. Its mouth opened with an unreleased scream, and blood stained like tears down its eye.

The sunlight panned across the grass field at your attention, an example of your mind clearing out spaces for other things besides Wukong. That was when you finally saw them—the dead bodies. Multiple lifeless bodies were lit atop the bladed grass—your eyes widened at the soaking red grass tips, and then you glanced up at Wukong.

"Why can't you just do this one thing for me!" Wukong screamed at his Master. He pressed a hand to his chest, willing his nails to cut through his body into his heart. "I killed all these yaoguais! I'm going rogue again! I'm becoming a hindrance! You have to punish me. It's your responsibility!"

Sanzang stared woefully at Wukong’s desperation. His hand remained under his chin in preparation, but he did not grant Wukong’s masochistic wish. 

Sensing the monk's unwillingness to cast the spell, Wukong bit his lower lip, a frustrated redness doubling across his face. He gritted his teeth and pressed his nails to his head, digging into the flesh enough to draw blood. He hooked his fingers around the gold fillet and didn't try to take it off. He only pretended to because he knew he needed it now more than ever. 

"Master, please!" he begged through a hoarse scream. "You were willing! When [Name] was–"he gasped through an irritated growl– "when they were dying! You were willing to let them suffer! You chose to punish them because you thought them an obstacle! I've become one, too, yet you won't punish me! How dare you!"

“You let me kill them! You left that on my conscience!” Wukong accused, but his finger pointed at himself more times than it did Sanzang. 

This wasn’t the outcome Sanzang desired when he let you die. 

Wukong hadn't been impatient about your resurrection; he was hopeless. If he were told how long it'd take for your body to return, he would have waited earnestly by your side, holding your shell close and keeping it warm. But he wasn't warned about the unpredictable duration, and you never woke up. 

He thought you were gone and spiraled back into his beastly nature.

However, Sanzang knew very quickly that the descension to madness was deliberate. Wukong was still clever and disciplined. He still retained what was taught throughout the journey before your sudden emergence. 

This murderous spree was not a marker of his return to how he used to be—the supremely arrogant and destructive monkey who nobody trusted or liked. It was a cry for condemnation, a plead to be retributed.

Wukong killed you, so someone else should kill him, too. He can suffer no pain but yours.

Sanzang read him like an open book. Unfortunately, giving in to what he wanted would only reinforce the behavior, so he stepped back and refused to spell, no matter how much bloodshed he caused.

"Wukong..."

"No! You're not listening to me!" The monkey groaned into his hands before harshly rubbing his palm down his face. "What more must I destroy? When will you be satisfied, Master?" 

"I am not satisfied by your behavior, Wukong. Understand me," Sanzang said. "I simply will not stand to let you guilt me into hurting you."

"You've already done that," Wukong spat.

"You cannot truly be bothered by this, can you?" Sanzang questioned. "The immortal peach has been consumed. Trust nothing else but the product of the celestial garden. Their death is not definitive."

"They're still dead!"

"Then I suppose they are."

A fiery sensation burned behind Wukong's eyes and painted Sanzang red. The staff appeared in his hand, still uncleaned with the scent of your blood, and he abruptly lunged at the monk, who took the unplanned bait and immediately began to chant the fillet-tightening spell.

Wukong fell to the ground but didn't squirm or writhe as much as usual. Exhausted pants escaped his lips, and he drilled his head against the floor, his eyes squeezed shut as he leaned his senses into the agony. When he looked up at Sanzang again, his body barely able to move at his will, he managed a triumphant smirk.

"Is this what... I must do...?" he gritted out, "I... I have to perform the bottom of the barrel... for you... my Master... to grant me just a little mercy!" 

Sanzang pursed his lips in disdain. "You push the limits of my tolerance, you blasted monkey."

Your gaze hardened at the familiar insult you remembered reading in the book. Their conversation didn't provide any context to the argument, but you could tell Wukong had done something forbidden, and Sanzang was punishing him. 

After Sanzang's voice fell, Wukong finally started to exhibit signs of discomfort as he scratched at his fillet. You never knew if the spell could adjust the tightness of the fillet, but it seemed Wukong couldn't handle the pain quietly anymore. 

His cries filled your ears, making you wince. It wasn’t that the novel didn’t describe it well enough or the actors had lousy acting. The reality of the band-tightening spell was simply much more painstaking.

You quickly stepped over the dead yaoguai to run toward him. Your knees gave out when you were near Wukong, and you fell, your palms scraping the dirt. You ignored the mild pain and scrambled over. You grabbed onto him and pulled him to your chest, a hand over his shoulder and the other at his hand, and then you snapped up at Sanzang, your brows furrowed with anger.

"That's enough! Stop hurting him!" you shouted, tears rolling down your face uncontrollably. You didn't think you were particularly upset, only that Wukong's cries affected you like most people's agony. Or, perhaps you were just afraid you couldn't convince Sanzang to stop.

"He understands. He won't do it again, whatever it is. He gets it, so just stop!"

Sanzang looked at you, his voice trailing off to a pause. You gulped nervously, your hands squeezing Wukong closer to your side as if that was any help. You looked at Sanzang like he's a cautionary tale, eyes cowering but gaze unwavering—confronting him bravely and silently, watching him like he's a demon but cradling Wukong like the opposite. 

"You're back." He glimpsed at Wukong, whose ear pressed against your chest. "Please return to the Keeper's Shrine by sundown. The night is dangerous."

Walking away from your fallen figures, he untied his horse by the tree and left, holding on to the rope, slowly strolling further away from the bloodbath on the floor. 

You gritted your teeth into a frown as a hand clumsily wiped at your wet eye. Confusion tinkered above your head like floating question marks at Sanzang's attitude. Undoubtedly, he wouldn't express much excitement considering his present grudge, but you thought he almost looked relieved. Not because you resurrected but because Wukong has finally calmed down. 

He stared at the grass with his arms around your waist, silently waiting as the world calmed around you. His hands no longer trembled as they did—an initial reaction to your sudden presence. Dry eyes made wet by trapped tears and bare neck made hot from a veiny and sour sensation, he relished even the fabric of your shirt against his skin. 

Your heart palpitated irregularly, and Wukong suffered gentle panic from that. Discarding the logic that your heart was responding to the worrisome event just now unfolded, your racing heartbeat filled his head with unhinged outcomes that served to take you from him again. 

There were no yaoguais around; he's murdered them all. Those who were smart had fled long before the altercation with Sanzang. The bugs whispered in their home, and nature resumed its daily wandering, moving leaves and blowing breezes. 

The longer you embraced on the floor, letting the sun kiss you warm, the more you relaxed. The world felt brighter than before, and your stillness in each other conveyed feelings hidden snuggly within the thousand words your exhausted bodies couldn't express. 

Your heart began to slow down to how a human heart was meant to beat: soft and steady. Alive. He wasn't entirely human, but Wukong thought his heart moved in identical shapes. He measured yours and matched it with his own, his senses isolating and gathering to hear inside your chest and his body, an overdramatic calculation to further prove to himself that you were alive. 

But his relief traversed your aliveness. It was a much-needed release from remorse. It was vindication. You being here was permission for him to stop physically and emotionally tormenting himself. You being here, hugging him so gently, unlike his feared expectations, where you'd flinch away because your memories wrote that he was your killer—your endearing hands spoke: you can stop punishing yourself. You no longer have to pay for a sin you thought you committed. 

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I’m sorry it went down like that.”

“It wasn’t your fault.” You shook your head. “I don’t blame you. Honestly, I don’t think I blame Sanzang either.”

Perhaps nobody is the problem. One thing merely led to another. If one backtracks too much, one would end up at the wall of God's home, and it just wasn't possible for him to take the fall for everything. 

“How do you feel?” he asked. 

“Hm?” You glanced at him, the gaps of your fingers decorated with the rough fur atop his head. “What?”

“Are you well?” he rephrased. 

You nodded. “Yeah.”

“That’s good.” It was barely audible.

“What about you?” you asked. “Are you okay?”

Wukong felt the shape of your waist on his palm. Solid, pudgy, human. 

“Yes,” he replied. “I’m okay.”

Wukong joked that you should exercise more, and you reluctantly agreed. 

Instead of using the Nimbus cloud for faster travel, you and Wukong decided to walk back to Keeper’s Shrine together. It was an opportunity to reconcile, and since there wasn’t much to catch up on about you being stuck in a void, you gave him space to discuss the recent downward spiral of his mentality. 

He tip-toed around the notion that he descended into total abandon after your death. A core part of himself that was so carefully nurtured by years of religious practices and those around him was gone just from you closing your eyes. Even someone like him could understand the significance of that, the significance of you. 

You read between the lines and didn't say anything. Instead, you changed the topic. You shifted to talking about trees, specifically about climbing them. 

“I want to say–“ you paused briefly to reach a hand up for the tree branch above your head– “you are part monkey, so climbing a tree is an ability built into you at birth.” 

"It remains that I can climb a tree with ease, and you cannot," he retorted, peering down at you leisurely from above, where he laid cross-armed on the tree branch you were trying (and failing) to get to.

His snarky remark didn't motivate you. It wasn't his intention to anyway, as he flashed you a mischievous grin when you clicked your tongue and glared at him. His tail danced below the branch, taunting you by curling and uncurling, creating the illusion of a support hook and taking it away. You heaved a sigh; you wouldn't have grabbed his tail to pull yourself up anyway.

"You know–"He sat up, his legs dangling over and his waist bent down to lean toward you. "You really need to train the muscles in your arms."

"Tsk. I bet you don't even know the anatomically accurate terms for the muscles," you muttered and then peeked away when you realized neither did you know them. "Shut up if you're not going to help me!"

Wukong laughed, but it sounded like a holler. Slapping a hand to his knee and staring at you with a gaze you shouldn’t trust, he pursed his lips and agreed. He extended his arm out for you to hold.

Brief words of encouragement (to receive his help, not to climb the tree) had to file out of his mouth for a few seconds before you decided he was trustworthy enough.

You sucked in a deep breath in preparation. Gripping the tree branch extra tightly with one hand, you let go of the other hand and pulled yourself up with all your might to grab onto Wukong. But he retracted his arm abruptly, leaving you to scramble the air with your fingertips.

You gasped, your forearm clumsily curling around the branch for your safety, your brows furrowing, and a string of scolding words ready at your opened mouth.

“Sun Wukong!” His shameless laughter drowned out your words. “I could have died!”

He paused immediately. The speed of the emotional shift was eerie. You awkwardly folded your upper lip between your teeth and shrunk your head between your shoulders at his widened, disbelieving eyes. You hadn't meant to say that. It wasn't retaliation. You said it because it made sense—if you fall from the height of this tree, you'll die. 

“How could you joke about that?” Wukong whispered, and then he turned away dramatically, with the back of his palm against his forehead and the other wiping an invisible tear from his eye. “I told you how much I went through when I thought you were dead. You know how much you mean to me!”

It took you a moment. When you realized he was fooling around—still—you rolled your eyes. 

“Haha, very funny.” You blew a large knot of air out of your mouth. “Help me up, damn it! Stop being annoying!”

He jolted at your shrill voice. A sneer crept onto his face, but when he reached for you again, he held your arm and swiftly hoisted you upward into the empty spot beside him. His hand hovered before your body as you adjusted to the seat.

"See? That wasn't so hard," you mused when you were done.

"You're being dramatic."

You chuckled through pursed lips, which made you sound triumphant. Looking over at him, your eyes squinted knowingly, you pointed out, "You remember what happened the last time you told me I was being dramatic, right?"

"Oh dear," he groaned, closing his eyes tightly and facing skyward with his hands on his head as if he were airing out his grievances to Heaven. "I'm never going to live that down, will I?”

"Not until I leave this place."

Wukong opened his eyes slowly. 

Sky blue is a blinding color, or perhaps the Sun. He never cared to know. He didn't look up too much because of all the enemies who lived there. But he became curious recently. You made him curious. He wondered if your sky was as difficult to observe as his.

“What do you plan to do when you go back?” he asked.

It wasn’t something you thought about until he asked. Everyone was working to find a way to bring you home. Erlang Shen has, surprisingly, sent you a few update letters on his progress, occasionally requesting a written reply to gather more information.

You never thought it was an impossible feat; if there’s a way for you to arrive here, there’s a way for you to leave. But the operation completely slipped your mind these days. 

"Eat an actual meal?" you slurred from a pout. "Sandwiches, french fries, ice cream…" A faux, tearful sob choked up your throat as your eyes squeezed, and you covered your head with your hands. "I'll kill for a can of Pringles even."

“It sounds like you miss home a lot,” he commented. 

“Not really.” A disagreeing scrunch showed up briefly on your face as you shrugged. “Outside of the food, a select group of people… and the internet, I guess. I don’t think I miss it that much.”

Wukong nodded. Unlike you, he’s obsessively thought about your departure since Erlang Shen began sending letters to you through any form of a flight animal. He understood there wasn’t anything more to think about. Any emotional obstacles he encountered have been dissected and analyzed so thoroughly that, at this point, he was merely recycling his thoughts and worrying himself. 

How wonderful would it be if you decided not to leave? If there wasn't anything you missed, why couldn't you stay? But he knew better than to ask you of such a huge favor—abandoning your life, leaving all that you've built behind, discarding your potential to be greater over there than here. For him or not, he couldn't ask you to do that, and he wouldn't. 

His head was lowered, and his eyes fixated on his lap to avoid showing the microchanges in his expressions. But you weren't looking at him. When he discreetly turned to you, you were staring at the sky.

Contentment filled the air around you; you seemed to enjoy the view as if you never got to properly look at the blueness back where you came from. He smiled to himself and faced forward. 

Whatever time you’ve got left with each other. Months, weeks, days, or even just hours—Wukong considers all seconds of it destiny. 

He understood if something has to happen, then it shall.

“I’m going to miss you,” he said. 

You widened your eyes faintly and turned to him. 

His confession was unexpected. It was well-received because you somewhat returned the sentiment. When you leave, Wukong's world, full of magic and adventures, won't remind him of you. But your world full of stories and sculptures would always remind you of him. Rather than missing him, you supposed you would think of him a lot. 

“I’m going to think of you,” you returned.

He smirked briefly and fiddled with his thumbs, letting the silence eat away at the end of that conversation before he opened his mouth to speak again. 

“I’m still sorry,” he muttered, “about everything.”

It wasn't lost on you how groundbreaking it was that a character designed to be as arrogant as Wukong opened his mouth to apologize to you. You honestly didn't think you cared too much about what happened. The void didn't make you suffer. You fell asleep and then woke up—the process of them was painful but not enough to justify a grudge. 

“过去已成往事,” you said. “Water under the bridge.”

Wukong raised a brow, a somewhat impressed hum sounding from his throat. “How many idioms did that pig teach you?”

"He didn't teach me. He just says it a lot."

"He does. Sometimes, I pretend I understand what he's saying, not to give him satisfaction. Wukong scoffed, the hair on his body almost trembling in distaste. "Oh, by the way," he said through a sharp inhale and sat up. "What is Pringles?"

“Oh! Uh, it’s a brand of chips, but you don’t know that.” You held up your hand and pressed your fingers into a thin line. “It’s about this big. Depending on the flavor, it can be salty, spicy, or even sweet–“ you inhaled before returning to your previous mourning position– “Oh my god, I might actually kill for a single Pringles chip.”

Wukong scoffed and crossed his arms. “You can’t even climb a tree.”

“Hey, strength is not the only factor that makes up a killer,” you argued. “There’s motivation. There’s, uh, cleverness, calmness, wit–“

“Out of all four of them, you only have one,” he mused, leaning toward your face. “And it’s none of the latter ones.”

You smiled sarcastically before abruptly slapping a hand to his shoulder, surprisingly shoving him off the tree branch. A gasp ripped through your mouth, and you covered it. Carefully but quickly, you leaned your torso forward to glance at the ground. 

There wasn't a shadow of Wukong anywhere, which didn't make sense. The tree was tall, but it wasn't giant. You were still able to get a clear view of the ground! Either he has a secret hidden power of teleportation that he never told you about, even though it might have been handy in furthering the process of finding your way home, or he whisked himself away at the last second and went into hiding to prank you.

Couldn't say you missed those pranks, really.

"I know you better than believing you would fall to your death, Wukong, so come out–gasp!”

A sharp wind cut over your hair as the Ryui Jingu Bang extended in length at lightning speed. The leaves around you shifted, opening doors to let the sun in. 

Wukong, crouching on the top of his weapon with impeccable balance, was elevated to your face level. He grinned with amusement as he waited for you to slowly reveal yourself from your forearms, which covered your face from the gusts of wind just now. You opened your eyes to see him; under the sunlight, he thought they looked whimsical like water. 

"Hey," he greeted, bringing a hand off his knee to softly flick the tip of your nose with his fingers. "You know, I wish you would still worry about me a little, even though you know I'm competent."

"I do worry," you said. "I'll worry about you for a long time."

He whistled playfully. "For a long time?"

When you leave, there is no knowing how much chaos he'll cause and how much he'll suffer from it. You never wanted him to suffer, so you worry—you worry a great deal. 

You worry about him, and you are afraid for him. You grieve for him, and you cheer for him. Here or there, together or separate, it'll all be for him.

"Yes," you confirmed.

Wukong grinned. It was silly, but his heart knocked with an irregular rhythm, and he was both flustered and bitter. 

“Come on,” he reached a hand out, “let’s head back.”

You stared at him dubiously before taking his invite. He carefully tugged at your arm, and you let him, maneuvering your body to allow him more accessible access to pull you to his chest. His hand went under your knees, holding you sturdy, and you didn't bother to hold onto him for extra stability.

“Hey, you know–“ you looked up at his chin–“the last time you held me like this, I asked about those dreams you had of me. You still haven’t told me anything about that.”

He grimaced. He still didn’t plan to. 

Wukong didn't want to leave you alone with Sanzang, but under Bajie's physically violent persuasion (repeatedly knocking his back with a rake), he caved and went with everyone else to the nearby river for some water.

You weren't nervous because you knew it wasn't a confrontation. There was nothing serious the monk had to confront you with; you didn't count his opinion of you being incompetent and weak as a subject of a confrontation. His problem with you being a hindrance to their journey was but his speculation.

His feelings were valid, but they were also of his own making.

Sitting across from him by the fireplace, you remained silent and waited for him to speak. He didn't look at you. Either he didn't want to, or he felt too awkward. You didn't mind. His white horse, all curled up a few feet behind him, was a sight for sore eyes.

"Erlang Shen sent us a letter."

"Oh?" You perked up. It has been a while since you last received news from him.

"They think they've found a way to bring you home, and he has requested that you go back to test the method."

Jaw dropping slowly at the surprising news, you managed a few absentminded nods before looking down at the ground. 

Your shoes weren't new anymore. They were stained with dirt, dried petals, blood, and barely scraped-off substances. The bottom of it felt thin because of all the walking you've done. Perhaps you were wrong. The first thing you'd do when you return should be to get a new pair of shoes.

"I've been here long enough," you said. It was a thought that resulted from your shoes, perhaps. "They're bound to figure something out one of these days."

"I agree." Sanzang nodded. "Except, there is a problem."

You squinted your eyes and squeezed your hands together. It felt like your heart should beat faster, in rage, disappointment, or dissatisfaction, but you were steady as a log and calm as the mountain.

It didn't take him too long to reveal his intention, and you caught on immediately. No wonder he shooed everyone away and requested to speak to you privately. This wasn't a confrontation. This was a request, a shameful request. 

It has been cleared up whether Sanzang hates you, but the solved mystery merely turned into a problem that could only be solved by your departure, which cannot happen until you lose the remainder of your lives.

Sanzang wanted you to deal with your immortality faster.

"I heard from Bajie that you find me bothersome," you said.

His face was still like a rock. He didn't so much as twitch a muscle. If the tension weren't evident, you'd find the time to admire the stoicism.

"How surprising that you didn't figure that out from my actions alone," he said. "But he tells the truth. I do find you bothersome to our original journey."

"You must understand I cannot be faulted."

He paused for a prolonged second, his fixated eyes a loose image of gears turning in his head.

You were correct—to some level, at least. You never asked to be here; teleportation was beyond your control. You never asked to consume the immortal peach; even he cannot blame you for falling for that insolent monkey's many tricks. You never asked to undergo excruciating pain; your human body would never be fit for magical trials.

Nothing was your fault, except everything was because you're here. Everything happened because you're here. It may not be your intention to be here, but you were—results trump intentions. That has always been the curse. 

"You are not at fault, yes," Sanzang said. "But I blame you still. Just for being here, for being the clog that springs it all to life."

“But… that is not the only problem," Sanzang said.

You rolled your eyes and groaned, giving him a pointed raise of your brows to continue.

"You distract Wukong."

"That–" You poked your tongue at your inner cheek and squinted curiously. With an acknowledging hum and a sudden position that expressed intrigue in the conversation, you nodded at Sanzang. "Do you know about his dreams?"

It was the first time Sanzang's features ever shifted. He leaned back at your abrupt interest and frowned. "I don't know what you're speaking of."

"Really?" Your voice was low and dubious, but then you remembered Sanzang would, at any given chance, snitch on the blasted monkey he spoke so lowly of, and all your doubts vanished. He would have told you to embarrass the monkey. If he didn't, it was either he really disliked you or was telling the truth.

"He is distracted around you. Less cautious, more naive, and making careless mistakes. It’s as if he's lost his head.”

"Doesn't he always act like that?" you questioned. Walls of texts—blurred texts—from their novel flashed slowly before your eyes, and you faintly shook your head. "Actually… no. Wukong doesn't act like that. You…” The minor accusation fell weakly on your tongue. Your unwillingness to stir trouble made you backtrack, and you sighed. "Never mind."

“He enjoys your presence,” Sanzang said. “Surely, you’ve noticed that.”

"You don't think I got the memo when he fed me the immortal peach?" you grumbled through a sardonic chuckle. "I'm leaving, Sanzang. I shouldn't feed into it."

“How do you feel about him, then?”

Arching your neck to stare him down, you wondered why the monk would be interested in how you felt outside of hoping he'd find leverage against Wukong. It felt like a trap. A normal conversation with him about potentially romantic feelings felt like a trap. But, more importantly, you weren't sure how you felt about him, so you got the perfect excuse not to answer the question. 

“I’m not telling you that,” you replied monotonously. 

“That’s fair.” 

"I also won't force myself to do what you want," you added firmly. "I will try my best at the temples, but if it's physically impossible to continue, I will stop whenever I want. I do not care about your peace. I won't push my limits for you. You'll just have to wait it out."

Silence engulfed the air.

“That’s fair, too,” he replied. 

You have been here long enough to watch the seasons change. 

If you had the exact date, you could tell if Winter already arrived or if it was still late Autumn. To combat the cold, they had brought you to a town mid-journey and bought you a thin cloak. White fur was sewn to the collar to form a makeshift scarf. Those were the only options; you'd rather not freeze in the occasional snow. 

It kept you warm, and it kept you safe. You had pulled it closer around yourself when the Buddha you met this morning notified you that you were rid of your immortality. 

“Can’t sleep?”

You peered up at Wukong, who sat beside you with one leg propped up.

"No," you replied.

"Me neither." He tapped his index finger against his knee. "Oh, by the way, it's not real fur."

"Huh?"

He turned to you and pointed at your cloak, which you then wrapped tighter around yourself.

"I went back to the store to ask. It wasn't the best idea. I nearly scared that old man half to death showing up at his home," he snickered faintly and rubbed the back of his head. He stared at the floor almost bashfully. "I noticed you were doubtful when we got you the cloak. That was the only problem I could think of, so I had to go back and make sure. I just kept forgetting to let you know."

You stared at him, subconsciously reaching up to touch the warm softness around your neck. A smirk played on your face, and you turned away to hide it. "Thanks. I appreciate it."

"No problem," he muttered. "So! Tomorrow, early in the morning, you and I will head back to see that third-eyed freak! I can't say I'm excited to see him ever again! 

You pressed your legs closer to your chest and pursed your lips. Wukong was trying too hard to fill the awkward silence that wasn't meant to be awkward. It was an anxious sadness—the anxiety of experiencing an impending sadness—bottled and replaced by awkwardness. It was a facade. You two just didn't know what to say to each other before the eternal separation. 

A bitter taste developed around your mouth, forcing you to salivate uncomfortably. You swallowed the knots, feeling them drop past your throat and bounce on your heart to make it beat irregularly. 

You enjoyed being around Wukong. If you allowed it, you might even let your feelings for him develop and eventually admit that you liked him. But you didn't allow that, as you've decided to prioritize returning home. 

Nobody accused you of making that choice, not even Wukong. He would never. It was you who felt guilty for choosing to leave, and that still plagued you to this day. 

"I'm so sorry," you said suddenly.

Wukong slowly met your eyes. The confusion initially sitting in them vanished when he saw your furrowed brows and tearful eyes—whimsical like water. He wasn't wrong about that. Panicked, his hands hovered around your face, and he wiggled about, unsure what to do.

"What happened? What did you do?" he asked. "I'm sure you didn't do anything bad. Don't worry, I'll help you, okay? I promise."

You closed your eyes and cried quietly to yourself; flat whimpers, breathy hiccups, tears that were too cold against your cheeks, and comically placed hiccups. Wukong raised his brows, amusement bubbling at the brim of his quirked-up lips upon realizing how ridiculous (just a little!) you appeared. 

"Wukong, I wanna go home, but... but I–I don't want to leave. I don't–gasp, I don't want to leave you." You closed your eyes to squeeze more tears out. "I'm sorry. Maybe I should... I should just stay. I should stay here with you."

"Now, what about your Pringles chip?"

He chuckled when you cried harder at the mention of a past conversation. Putting his hand flat on the ground, he pulled himself closer to you and leaned his torso forward. His free hand gingerly wiped at your face, being extra aware of his sharp nails. You kept crying, and he didn’t feel like he could say anything to make you feel better besides agreeing to your sudden change of decision, but he couldn’t.

"Don't be silly," he said. 

He would be happy to have you stay with him forever, but you didn't want that. You were doubting your decision now because of him because you didn't want to leave him. But Wukong understood more than anyone else that he wasn't the significant marker that made up who you were. 

Your home, your school, your hobbies, your friends, your family, your potential career choice—those things made you who you were. Besides not wanting to be the reason for you making a spur-of-the-moment choice, he also wanted you to be surrounded by what you knew. 

You wouldn't achieve anything great in his world, but you would in yours. You deserve that chance.

"You have to go home," he whispered. "You can finally eat a proper meal. I want you to eat well."

You sniffed. "But I'm never going to see you again.”

His hand paused and hovered around your face. The established consequence felt much more threatening when you said it out loud. He calmed his nerves, pressed his palm against your face, and then urged you to move toward him. You did. Releasing the cloak on your shoulder, you climbed onto his lap and lay on his chest, snuggling close for warmth.

“Yeah, I guess we won’t see each other again,” he muttered, looking ahead at the forest. He tilted his head, inhaling thoughtfully. “I’m okay with that.”

“You are?” Your brows furrowed.

“Not the way you’re thinking!” he exclaimed. “I just… we can’t change that. No matter how much we beg or–“ he looked down at you– “cry, that’s never gonna change. We live in different worlds. We probably weren’t even meant to know each other.”

You threw your head back on his arm and groaned lowly. “Why are you saying all of this now?”

“What? No! I just meant–“ He laughed and pushed your head up so you’d look at him. “You’re going home. You have to go home. If we can’t change the fact that we’ll never see each other again, I guess I’d rather you never forget me.”

“That…” You rolled your eyes. “That won’t be an issue for me, but you!”

“Me?”

“Yes, you! 可以不爱我 但绝不可以忘记我," you said. "You don't have to love me, but don't you dare forget me."

He cracked a smirk. "I do love you." 

"It's for the later future!" you gently exclaimed as your head went slack against his shoulder. “Please don’t get in trouble, Wukong. Don’t get hurt, don’t do anything bad. I want you to live.”

“Oh, I’ll live,” he mused. “Not sure about the other ones, though.”

You knew those were wishful thinking. If his journey went the way the novels detailed, you also knew he would be okay. You weren't sure why you said those things—perhaps you wished him a smooth journey, but that wasn't why people admired him so much. Looking at him, you figured it's okay for him to get hurt occasionally. Hell, he might even deserve it once in a while, but you didn't say that out loud. 

Wukong stared down at your suppressed grin, his hands soft around your limbs to remember their shape.

You didn't know that he would love you for far longer than you'd be here with him.

The Tanghulu almost fell apart when you bit into the strawberry on top. You caught the sugar pieces with your free hand. 

The line leading toward an opened temple continued to move. It was mainly occupied by tourists, at least you believed so. There was hardly any reason for a local to be at a tourist attraction on a regular weekday except for you. You had a reason. 

Taking a broad sweep across the crowded area, you arched your neck to look above the sea of heads at the food stands lined up in a row at the back. You chewed on the cold fruit as you debated what to eat next. There was a stall selling Liu Sha Baos, and next to it had an array of condiments set out for bagged Lou Meins. Humming in agreement, you decided to hit those stalls first after visiting the temple. 

Erlang Shen’s method worked. He had suggested going back home the same way you came, which would be through turbulence on an airplane. Creating a makeshift turbulence was easy for just about anybody there, and you remembered Wukong waving goodbye at you a second before the clouds, picked up by the wind, covered your sight. And then you were gone—you suddenly woke up in the emergency room, startling a nurse. 

Time barely passed when you were there. You slept through the rest of the flight after the turbulence, possibly causing inconvenience to the passengers seated by the window whenever they needed to use the restroom. They probably noticed something was wrong when you didn’t wake up even after the plane landed. They called an ambulance, and you had only just arrived at the hospital not too long ago. 

You didn’t turn back. You visited your family and stayed with them for however long you had previously planned. It was a great way to distract yourself from the out-of-world experience. But nothing quite pulled Wukong off your mind. 

You went hiking with your mother for the first time. The mountain reminded you of him. Heading to the supermarket and seeing the fruit section made you think of him. The way your grandpa talks reminded you of Bajie a little! And there was a newly released game about Wukong himself! You haven’t bought it yet. Maybe you would sooner or later. 

“Hey! Can you walk?”

You jumped at the voice behind you and instinctively bowed in response, an apology leaving you like a ghost. Seeing that you were next ahead to admire the statue, you put the Tanghulu on the paper plate and back inside the plastic bag it came from. As you walked ahead, you dusted your hands on your jacket and stopped at the center of the opened temple. Looking up, you bit your lower lip to avoid laughing.

The Sun Wukong statue looked nothing like Sun Wukong. 

But your memory made it look every bit like him. 

“I found you,” you said. “I’m sorry it took so long. I was out of the country with my family. But I went to many places and ate a lot of good food.”

He stared back at you, unmoving. Your eyes softened at the replacement in your head—you wondered what he was doing now. 

Subconsciously walking forward, your heart beating gently at your ear as you ignored the unnoticeable ‘Do Not Touch’ sign, you placed a hand on the statue’s feet and smiled. 

“I remember you,” you whispered. “I love you.”

“Hey! Please don’t touch the statue!”

You turned your head at the warning. A strong breeze blew toward the direction of the voice just as you turned, enough to knock the security storming at you to the ground. You slowly released your hand from the statue, mouth slightly agape as you watched passersby help the security stand up. Pulling at the strap of your bag, you glanced at Wukong one last time, the weird coincidence lingering in your mind, and then you went to apologize. 

Before you could walk out of earshot, you faintly heard a little boy speak to his mother behind you.

“Mom! Did you see that? The words on his staff lit up just now!”

[iamtired10]

hiii, could you write a one-shot or headcanons, whatever you fancy the most, of newjeans (or just danielle, i dont mind!) with a thoughtful, attentive gf? someone who does not actively demonstrate that she makes an effort to remember their habits and preferences but deep down knows everything about them... 😍

and not in a "stalker" way! (☠) more like in a "I care so much about you it just comes naturally" way

thank you!! have a nice day♡♡

masterpiece in your eyes

pairing - gf! danielle marsh x female reader

synopsis - you love knowing all the little things about danielle marsh—everything that makes her, well, her. but it’s not in an obsessed way; it’s just the kind of deep connection you both share.

genre - FLUFF (someone please request angst. and teach me how to write it too! im so over fluff)

warning - nothing just cringe and boring ig, dani have blonde hair here :(

word count - 831

a/n - fun fact... i always update before i go to sleep 😪

the museum air was still.

the kind that made you want to talk in hushed whispers, but that didn’t stop danielle from bouncing on her heels, her eyes wide with excitement.

she was in her element—curiosity and wonder radiated from her as she stood in front of an art piece that you, frankly, didn’t quite understand.

but that didn’t matter.

what mattered was the way danielle’s face lit up, her soft blonde curls bouncing with every little skip she made from one exhibit to the next.

she turned to you with that signature spark in her eyes. “babe, look! isn’t this one so cool?”

her aussie accent mixed with the sound of wonder in her voice made it impossible not to smile.

you tilted your head, pretending to examine the piece like you knew exactly what she was seeing. “yeah, totally. the… uh, colors are super deep.”

she giggled, knowing you had no clue, but appreciating the effort.

that was the thing about danielle—she never needed you to be into the same stuff she was, but you loved the way she came alive around the things she loved.

you’d always made mental notes of her little habits, what made her smile, what made her laugh.

even though you weren’t the type to be super showy about it, you made sure she felt seen.

like how you always brought her that lavender-scented hand cream she liked when she forgot hers or when you made sure to grab the spicy ramyeon whenever you both went grocery shopping because she secretly loved the heat.

she never outright said it, but you knew.

you knew she loved it when you held her hand in museums, quietly slipping your fingers through hers whenever she got too excited and started wandering off like a curious little puppy.

and so, as she moved to the next exhibit, you reached out, lacing your fingers with hers.

danielle smiled at the touch, her gaze softening as she glanced at you. “you always know what i need,” she murmured, squeezing your hand gently.

she pulled you closer until your arms were lightly brushing.

“of course, i do. i’ve been taking notes,” you teased, nudging her playfully with your shoulder.

she blushed, that adorable pink creeping up her cheeks that always made your heart flutter.

across the room, you heard the unmistakable laughter of hanni.

your friends, they were gathered around an interactive display, messing around with a touchscreen that let you create your own digital art.

haerin was tapping through the colors with focus, while hanni was trying her best to mess it all up.

danielle waved over to them with her free hand. “come on, let’s go see what they’re doing!”

the two of you wandered over, still hand-in-hand, joining the chaos. “unnie, you’re ruining haerin-ah’s masterpiece!” danielle laughed, nudging hanni playfully.

“i’m adding to it,” hanni said with a grin, barely holding back her laughter as haerin shot her a death glare.

hyein was watching from the sidelines, clearly amused. “it’s abstract art now.”

you leaned into danielle’s ear, whispering, “they’re all such nerds.”

danielle giggled, nodding in agreement. “and we love them for it.”

minji, the mom of the group, finally stepped in. “alright, alright. give hae a chance to finish it.”

then she turned to you and danielle, raising an eyebrow. “enjoying the tour?”

“yeah, it’s been amazing!” danielle beamed, her excitement spilling out. she turned to you with a wide smile. “i love that we’re all here together.”

minji smirked. “she loves you being here.”

you rolled your eyes, but inside, your heart was swelling. danielle was so effortlessly herself around you, and that’s what made everything feel so perfect.

after wandering around for a bit more, you both found yourselves in front of a painting that seemed to catch danielle’s eye.

she stood there, staring at it, her expression soft and thoughtful.

“what are you thinking?” you asked, watching her closely.

she didn’t say anything for a moment, just continued gazing at the painting. “it’s beautiful, isn’t it? it makes you feel something, like… warmth.”

you looked at her, not the painting, and said softly, “yeah, you're right, it’s beautiful.”

danielle turned to you with a shy smile, and your heart skipped a beat.

you didn’t have to say much for her to understand.

she rested her head on your shoulder, her hand still holding yours. “you’re such a dork,” she whispered, her voice light and teasing.

“but i’m your dork,” you teased back, pressing a soft kiss to the top of her head.

in that museum, amidst all the art, the real masterpiece was the love you both shared—thoughtful, quiet but so deeply understood.

the kind of love that didn’t need to be shouted from the rooftops because it was already written in every soft glance, every gentle touch.

and in that moment, you both knew — this was the kind of love that felt like home.

a/n - SORRY TO THE ANON IK IT'S NOT GOOD :( MY HEAD IS TOTALLY BRAINDEAD SAURR I JUST WROTE WTV POPPED INTO MY MIND LMAO. IT'S A MESS, SORRYYY! ANYWAY IM GONNA HEAD OUT NOW. BYE-BYE GOODNIGHTYYYYY!

[giggly-squiggily]

Hiiii! I hope you're doing well. This is my first time requesting so I'm a lil scared. I request Lee Megumi and Ler Itadori. Megumi was looking a little down and our precious pink head wanted to cheer him up.

*dances after reading this prompt cause it's utterly perfect* YES! Good gracious how I love some Lee!Megumi! He's my favorite JJK character! :D I've gotcha covered, anon! Some Ler!Yuji coming your way!

CW: Swearing

Cloud 9 (Taglist Peeps):

@thatbigbisexual29 @duckymcdoorknob @gladdygirl18 @baby-tickles2022 @cupcake-spice13 @rachi-roo @mystwrites @chibisstuff @imjusthere07 @sevenincubistolemyheart @riisada @sp1racle @happy-trenchcoated-impala @r-ine_lovesu

Yuji walked right past his room, only to stop- backtrack, and stare at him. Eyes wide and brows quirked, he took in the slump in his shoulders, the frown on his lips, the redness lining his wet lashes. “‘Gumi?”

No response. The other boy merely looked at him. It was enough for Yuji to come in fully, shut the door behind him and crawl into bed. “What’s going on, Gumi? Talk to me.”

“...” Megumi looked like he wanted to, but the words weren’t coming. He opened and closed his mouth like a fish, averting his gaze before finally settling on: “I’m just not okay right now.”

Yuji’s brow furrowed even more, then he quickly gathered up Megumi in his arms, pressing Megumi’s face into his chest and squeezing him gently. “I’m here. It’s gonna be okay now.”

Muffled sounds came, but Yuji just petted his head. “Shhhh. I got you. I got you.”

“Yuji- too tight!” Megumi gasped out. The pink haired boy yelped and released him some, giving him the room to lean back and breath. “Gah! Ugh..I thought I was gonna die!”

“Pfft- like I’d ever let that happen!” Yuji snickered. “At least you’d die smelling something nice, right?”

Megumi stared at him. Yuji blinked, then he reached out and sniffed down his shirt. “Oo! Yeah- no. Definitely need to shower.”

Megumi made a small noise, biting his twitching lips. Yuji saw an opportunity and ran with it.

“Oh, so you agree?” Yuji pretended to grow upset, the hands around Megumi curling into claws. “You think I stink like the bathroom after Tempura Tuesday. You think I smell god awful like that one perfume Nobara bought, don’t ya?”

“Y-Yuji!” Megumi shivered when those claws began to move, twitching along the backs of his ribs as he squirmed. “K-Knock it off! I d-didn’t say an-ny of thahaht!”

“You were thinking about it!” Yuji pointed out, unable to keep his facade as he watched Megumi start to giggle. “I could see it in your eyes! You can’t tell me any lies!”

“Gaha! Geahahhahaha, Yuhuhuhuji! Cohohome on, dohohohon’t!” Megumi reached up to shove him away, but his push had no strength. Whether it was from his earlier misery or Yuji’s otherworldly muscle, he didn’t know. What he did know however was Yuji had him trapped. “Gehehhehet ohohohoff!”

“No way! This is the first time I’ve seen you smile all day!” Yuji rolled them over so he was on top, putting his weight to use as he danced his fingers up and down the brunette’s sides. “I’m not stopping until I’m sure that smile of yours stays on!”

“Ahh! Aheahhahahahhaa shihhihihi-” Megumi thrashed more at the pressure Yuji was putting on him- the fact he was properly stuck worsened the ticklish feeling. He flailed his hands about trying to grab anything on the other boy- his hair, his hoodie- even a tickle spot. Alas, his efforts were for none. “Yuhuhuhuhuji yohohohou soohohohn of a bihihihihihitch!”

“Ooo, Gumi said a bad word! Gumi said a bad word!” The pink haired teen cackled in delight. He dragged his fingers up to Megumi’s armpits, all but squealing in glee when the other boy slammed his arms down with a shout. “Bad spot? I thought mine were terrible! Hehehehe!”

“YUHUHUJI!” Megumi barked out a laugh, grabbing at his shoulders and digging his fingers in. It did nothing to stop him, but Yuji did take the hint with a wince. His hands moved back down to his waist, a bad spot but not nearly as ticklish. “Aheahhahahaha, shihihihihit! Yohoohhoohu gohohohohoohd?”

“Yeah, nothing too bad. Nobara bit me once when I tickled her.” Yuji snickered at the giggly snorts and wheezes Megumi let out. “I think I still have the teeth marks! She’s like a cat when you get her. You however- you’re more like a dog!”

“Oohohohoh woohohohohow! Hohohow orihihihginal-AH FUHUUHUHUHUCK!” Megumi practically shrieked when his hips were squeezed, another spot proven to be rather deadly. Yuji gleamed like the morning sun. “NOHOHOHOO DOHOHOHOOHOHN’T!”

“Awww, does it tickle, Gumi? Huh? Does it?” Yuji cooed at him, leaning in and pressing their foreheads together as he carried on digging his thumbs in. “Is the sad whittle Gum-Gum finally starting to feel better-”

Given past experiences tickling his friends, you’d think Yuji would have learned by now how things usually end.

A press into a particular sensitive bundle of nerves. A lurch. Seconds later- Yuji was seeing stars, Megumi’s face colliding into his own. He flopped over and off the shadow teen with a low groan, rubbing at his face. “Oww..”

“Ugh, damn..” Megumi groaned as he did the same, eyes wet with new tears from the pain. “Sorry. How’s your head?”

“No complaints.” Yuji responded automatically. He froze, as did Megumi.

Then…

“Pfft- gehahahhahahahaha!” Megumi cackled, wincing some with one hand still on his forehead. “Gohoohohd, that was stuhuhuhpid!”

Yuji was laughing just as hard, his headache residing as he watched Megumi choke on his mirth. “It’s your fault for showing me that movie! Seriously though- are you okay? I know I have a thick skull.”

“Heh, yeah- I’ll live.” Megumi adjusted in bed, turning onto his side so he could face him. “Erm…sorry, about your head. And erm…thanks.”

“Oh?” Yuji asked, grinning at Megumi’s blush.

“Shut up. I’m trying to have feelings. Gross.” The brunette scrunched up his nose before looking at him again. “Seriously. Today was…I don’t know. I just woke up depressed and stayed that way. I didn’t know it at the time, but I really needed a friend. So…thanks.”

Yuji’s teasing grin faded into a look of genuine awe. He started to smile too, if not a little wobbly. “Heh…yeah, well that's what friends are for. If you’re sad, I want to fix it.” He reached out, lightly shoving Megumi’s shoulder. “Though I’m still kinda mad you think I smell!”

“You’re the one comparing yourself to a toilet.” Megumi reminded, leaning in and taking a small sniff. “Now that you say it though…I can smell it now.”

“Oh you son of a- Get over here!” Yuji threw himself onto a grinning Megumi, going for his hips once more. Just as he got it going, the door flew open.

“What the hell is going on-” Nobara yelled out, pausing seeing the antics before her. “Oh, it’s tickle Megumi time?”

“No! No, it’s nohohohot! Noba-RAHHH!” Megumi shrieked as she threw herself into the fray, joining in with a sinister giggle. Soon the room was filled with laughter once more- a mix of all three of them.

Just outside the door, Gojo watched on with a soft expression. Nodding, he turned and left, the sound of his students lightening his steps.

Thanks for reading!

[justa-fanfic-writer]

– How could this happen?

Yandere, OOC?, didn't know where the plot would go, reader is deaf, shitty ending, and other warnings I don't know blah blah blah...

Trafalgar Law x Gender Neutral Reader

Symmary: Basically, you have somehow ended up in the One Piece universe, but you're deaf and only use sign language, but luckily, you had joined Trafalgar Law's and his crew the Heart Pirates and you had joined! But something about Law isn't right...

Btw thank you, kiyoahdiy, for this idea credits to them and but I had a hard time writing this since it was hard coming up with this story would go, so I especially hope you liked this!

---------‐-----‐-----‐-----------------

Waking up to the familiar sensation of the ocean’s rhythmic sway beneath you, you had to remind yourself—yet again—that this wasn’t some strange, vivid dream. You really had ended up in the world of One Piece. The sight of the bright, open sea stretching endlessly around you was beautiful yet disorienting, a constant reminder of how surreal your situation was. What had started as a normal night back in your world had turned into a reality where you found yourself stranded in this dangerous yet exciting universe.

At first, you had struggled, not just with the shock of being thrown into this pirate-filled world but also with how to communicate. Being deaf meant that you couldn’t hear the chaos around you, and your way of communicating—sign language—was foreign to everyone here. You had felt more isolated than ever.

That was until you met Trafalgar Law and his crew.

The Heart Pirates, initially wary of your sudden appearance, had quickly taken a liking to you. Bepo, the giant talking mink, had been the first to show interest in learning how you communicated, his wide, fluffy paws trying their best to mimic the signs you taught him. Penguin and Shachi followed, eager to help bridge the gap between you and the rest of the crew.

And Law… Law had been watching you closely the entire time. From the moment you stepped on his ship, his amber eyes had never strayed far from you. He was quiet, calculating, as though he was studying every aspect of you—not just your movements but the very essence of who you were. It had unnerved you at first, but you’d quickly chalked it up to his nature. Trafalgar Law was a brilliant tactician, always thinking ahead, always planning. You had assumed his interest was nothing more than that of a captain trying to understand a new crewmate.

It wasn’t until one fateful night that you realized there was much more to it.

•~•

The crew had been sitting around the deck after a long day, the sound of laughter and conversation filling the air—though you could only see their smiles, their body language giving away the friendly banter. Bepo had sat beside you, signing clumsily about the day’s events, and you couldn’t help but chuckle at his efforts. It felt nice, like you were truly part of the crew.

That’s when Law appeared, as he often did, quietly, his presence casting a shadow over the lighthearted mood. His expression was unreadable, a subtle frown etched across his face as he glanced briefly at the crew before turning his focus solely on you. Without a word, he motioned for you to follow him.

You hesitated, wondering what could be so urgent, but ultimately complied, rising to your feet and trailing behind him. Law led you to the far end of the ship, where the noise of the crew faded, leaving the two of you alone under the stars. The sea breeze was cool, and for a moment, you simply stood there, watching the moonlight dance across the waves.

Law turned to face you, his usual gruff demeanor replaced with something almost… vulnerable. He pulled out a small notepad, something he often used when words weren’t enough to communicate with you, and scribbled something down.

"I want to learn more."

He wrote before flipping the paper around for you to see. You had blinked in surprise. You had been teaching the crew basic sign language for weeks now, but Law had always stood on the sidelines, watching with that intense gaze of his. Yet he never seemed interested in joining.

Before you could sign a response, Law continued writing.

"But I want you to teach me. Alone."

Your heart skipped a beat. This wasn’t like Law. The captain was always distant, calculating, rarely showing any signs of personal interest. Why now? And why alone?

You nodded cautiously, curious but unsure of his intentions. You began showing him some basic signs, expecting him to struggle as the others had, but Law, true to his reputation as a quick learner, picked up the language with ease. His movements were precise, controlled—just like him.

The two of you spent hours like that, the rest of the crew long asleep, as you taught him more and more. And the more he learned, the closer he seemed to get. Literally. His presence was starting to be overwhelming, the space between the two of you growing smaller with each passing moment. You could feel the heat of his body next to yours, and every time your hands brushed during a sign, a strange tension built in the air.

Eventually, Law stopped signing, his eyes locked onto yours with an intensity that made your pulse quicken. His expression shifted slightly, his usual cold exterior softening ever so subtly.

And then he signed something with his that made your heart stop.

“Be mine.”

You froze, your mind racing to comprehend what you had just seen. Your eyes widened in disbelief, wondering if you had misinterpreted his signs, but Law’s gaze was unwavering, his hands still poised in the air, waiting for your response.

You had never considered romance to be a possibility in this world—especially not with Trafalgar Law. He was always so focused, so guarded. And you? You had resigned yourself to thinking that love was out of reach, that surviving in this world was all you could hope for.

But here he was, asking you to be his... his lover...

You hesitated, a million thoughts running through your mind at once. Was this real? Could you even trust him? Law was powerful and brilliant, but he was also ruthless. You had seen firsthand how he commanded his crew with an iron will, how he controlled every aspect of his surroundings. Was this just another form of control?

Yet, despite the uncertainty, despite the unease swirling in your gut, you found yourself smiling. Something about the way he was looking at you, the vulnerability hidden behind those amber eyes, made you want to believe that this was genuine.

You shook your head slightly, trying to clear your doubts, and as you had blushed a bit as heat was coming in your face as you signed.

“I accept.”

For a moment, Law’s expression didn’t change. He simply stared at you, his face unreadable. But then his eyes narrowed, his lips pressing into a small smirk as his brows had furrowed. He looked almost…pleased? As if he knew you would accept... Or perhaps something deeper, something darker was lurking behind his gruff exterior.

He stepped closer, his presence now fully overwhelming, his eyes piercing into yours with a possessive intensity. You had sealed your fate, though you didn’t realize it at the time. The moment you accepted his confession, the moment you agreed to be his, you had unknowingly surrendered to something far more dangerous than you could have imagined.

-(So how's your day been...?)- XD

From that point on, Law’s possessiveness became suffocating. It wasn’t obvious at first. To the crew, things seemed normal, but you could feel the shift. He would always be nearby, watching, waiting. If you spent too much time with the others, even if it was something as innocent as teaching Bepo a new sign, Law would find a way to interrupt, his hand resting on your shoulder as a silent reminder of his claim over you.

It became clear that Law didn’t want anyone else near you—not even his own crew.

One evening, while you were sitting with Penguin and Shachi, showing them some new phrases, Law appeared as if from nowhere. He didn’t say anything, just stood there, arms crossed, his expression as dark as the night around you. The others quickly picked up on the tension and made an excuse to leave, but you could see the worry in their eyes.

As soon as they were gone, Law pulled you aside, his grip firm but not painful. His eyes burned with something intense, something you hadn’t seen before.

“They’re not important”

He sighed quickly, his movements sharp and precise.

“You are important. Only to me.”

You frowned, signing back that the crew mattered, that they were your friends, and was also Law's crew, but Law’s gaze darkened.

“I don’t care”

He sighed as his hands moved with frustration as he was signing with his hands.

“No one else gets to be close to you. Just me.”

You felt a chill run down your spine at his words. This wasn’t love—it was obsession. And you were trapped in the middle of it.

•~•

The final straw came when the Heart Pirates met up with the Straw Hat crew. Luffy, in his usual carefree manner, had approached you, all smiles and curiosity. He tried to communicate with you, his wide eyes filled with excitement, but before you could even sign a greeting, Law was there.

His hand gripped your arm tightly as he stepped between you and Luffy, his eyes cold and dangerous.

“Strawhat-ya”

He said, his voice low and threatening.

“Back off.”

Luffy blinked, confused, but shrugged it off, turning his attention elsewhere. But you could see it—Law’s possessiveness was spiraling out of control. No one was allowed near you. No one but him.

That night, as you lay in your bunk, you realized the truth. Law didn’t love you—not in the way you had hoped. He was obsessed, consumed by the need to control every aspect of your life. You had thought that joining the Heart Pirates would give you a chance to survive, a chance to live in this dangerous world.

But in accepting Law’s love, you had sealed your fate. You weren’t just part of the crew. You were his prisoner.

And no matter how hard you tried to escape, no matter how much you wanted to be free, Law would never let you go. You were his, and he would make sure no one else ever came close to you again.

As Law had kissed you, and the kiss was nothing more on how much he loved you... in a sick and twisted way. The kiss was how Law had held your waist so tightly as if he didn't want to let go...

As the two of you kept kissing as after a few more moments of passionate kissing, Law had said something that made your spine chill.

"You're mine (M/N)-ya and mine alone."

And as Law gave you one more kiss on the lips, you could see the smirk on his face as if he knew he was right.

---------------------------------------

Yeah, this was hard to write, especially with school and how i could barely think of the plot, too, and sorry if it had been a long time as I posted... again...

[velocesainz]

Oscar Piastri

friends to lovers(I wanted to ask if you don't mind adding that when they're going to have sex reader is insecure of her body)

Bathrobe: You're literally perfect

Mesh top: Why do you care so much

Shirt: Your moans are my favourite sound

Tank top: I can't get enough of you

Tunic: Jealous? So what if I am jealous

Cufflinks: Jealousy

Leg warmer: Degradation

Tie: Choking

Mirror sex

A/n: Thank you for the order! Enjoy!

Friend no more

F1 Masterlist | Main masterlist | Taglist

Summary: Oscar and reader are best friends and garner feeling for each other. Reader thinking it’s a lost cause after being accidentally friend-zoned by Oscar tries to move on but Oscar has other plans

Pairing: Oscar piastri x reader

Warnings: smut, slight angst

Order receipt:

Bathrobe: You’re literally perfect

Mesh top: Why do you care so much

Shirt: Your moans are my favourite sound

Tank top: I can’t get enough of you

Tunic: Jealous? So what if I am jealous

Cufflink: Jealousy

Leg warmer: Degradation

Tie: Choking

Bucket hat: Mirror sex

Face mask: Insecure reader

Reader pov:

I sat at our apartment waiting for my best friend to arrive so we can get ready to go together to a party that Oscar decided to drag me to

One thing about me is that I care deeply for the people I love and will to anything for them, even it means sacrificing a perfectly good lazy saturday evening that I could've spent watching tv shows and binge eating chips.

I love Oscar, much more than a friend and I have a suspicion that he feels the same judging by the way he cares for and looks at me . His mom herself told me she was sure that he liked me but you never know, I'm waiting for him to make the first move just to be sure

Me and him have been friends ever since we were in diapers. Our parents were best friends and so we followed the same. I followed Oscar around in the gap year I had taken before uni and we grew impossibly closer.

I was still working on my degree in aerodynamics hoping to join Oscar in his ventures in formula 1.

My train of thought was cut off by the doorbell ringing pulling me back into the real world

I quickly opened the door and let Oscar in

"So what are you planning on wearing?" Oscar questioned as he started picking out what he was going to wear

"I don't really know, maybe a pair of jeans and a shirt?" I responded still contemplating outfit choices

"Oh come on that's so boring, let loose, wear some dresses for a change" He told me and took me by surprise

I guess he was right, maybe he was going to confess and that's why he's making me dress nice.

I put on a short satin black dress feeling sort of exposed and insecure and quickly did my make up and curled my hair

"Ok I'm ready to go!" I called out to Oscar

I froze when I saw him, he looked so goddamn hot. He was in a simple pair of blue jeans a black shirt with the sleeves rolled up

I swear I was going to melt right then and there

"Y-you look absolutely gorgeous" He sputtered

"Getting a compliment for you? I must look really hot then huh" I replied sarcastically

"Let's not get too ahead of ourselves now. Let's get going or we will be late, not that we're not late already"

It was in Oscar's nature to be late to whatever or wherever he goes to do but he's been slowly working on it.

We both sat in his Mclaren and drove to the club where the party was

Upon reaching there we were met with a crowd. I had not met Oscar's friends in formula 1 as of yet so I was nervous as well as excited to meet them today.

Lando approached and brought us in

"So who is this beautiful woman you have with you today Oscar?" Lando questioned

"This is my childhood best friend y/n. We grew up together" Oscar replied breaking my heart

"Are you sure she's not your girlfriend mate?"

"I don't like her like that" With that my heart shattered into tiny pieces. I thought he liked me back.

I guess I was wrong this whole time. I was only his best friend, nothing more.

After we reached the table I quickly made my way away from Oscar to sit at the opposite side

I saw Oscar flirting with a really pretty looking model making me dig an even deeper hole in self hatred and insecurity.

I decided to speak to Lando who seemed interested in me. I mean I had to get over Oscar in one way or another.

As we were talking we slowly started flirting and touching each other softly

Oscar pov:

As soon as we reached the table y/n went and sat at the opposite end of the table which was very odd, she loved sitting next to me.

She was then approached by Lando which made my heart sink. I have liked her for years but I never had the guts to tell her and at this point I don't think she likes me anyways.

Observing th two of them I saw them flirting with each other and lightly touching each other all I could see was red.

I don't know what came over me but I walked over to them and grabbed y/n's hand dragging her out of there

"Hey what gives?" she shouted at me

I ignored her protests and threw her into the car and drive straight to our apartment

As soon as we got home I dragged her inside

"What the fuck is wrong with you? I was having a really nice conversation with Lando until you rudely came and interrupted us" she exclaimed

"You both were getting too flirty and close to him. If I hadn't stopped it you would've ended up in his bed" I tried to explain

"So what Oscar? Why do you care so much?" she snarled out

"I care because you're my best friend and i don't want to see you getting hurt" I replied

"It was literally as if you were jealous of me and Lando being close" she said

Hearing Lando's name made me clench my fists.

"Jealous? So what if I am jealous" I replied my eyes getting darker

"W-what-" I cut her off with a passionate kiss

She broke the kiss quickly

"I'm just your best friend Oscar, go back to those hot models. I'm not as pretty and hot as they are"

This made me angry. How could she think of herself like that? To me and a lot of other guys she was the most beautiful woman ever.

"You’re literally perfect darling. I'll show you just how pretty you are darling" I whispered huskily into her ear and dragged her to my room while kissing her.

Reader pov:

Oscar took us to his bedroom and pushed me onto the plush bed

He took off my clothes one by one admiring my body but being the insecure person I am I tried covering myself

“Don’t do that. You’re literally perfect. Stop shying away and hiding from me” he told me and placed me in such a way that I could see myself in the mirror

“Watch yourself while I fuck you bitch. See how pretty of a slut you look for me”

With that he lined himself up and thrusted into me bottoming out immediately

I let out the loudest moan I ever had and as he continued to thrust into me I moaned non stop he felt so good

“Mhph your moans are my favourite sound. Keep moaning whore”

He then switched positions from doggy to missionary and thrusted into me again

He put his hands around my throat lightly choking me causing me to let out a moan

“Oh you like that little slut? You like when I choke you like that?” He asked

All I could do was nod in response

We both were approaching our highs and his thrusts turned sloppy

“Where do you want me whore”

“In my mouth please” I pleaded

He pulled and pumped himself to the edge while circling my clit which also brought me to the edge

Thick strings of hot cum entered my mouth and I swallowed it completely savouring the taste

“You’re so perfect for me baby. Never leave me” with that he hugged me and we both fell into a deep slumber

A/n: hello lovelies hope you guys liked this, it’s kind of a long one. As always make sure to send any feedback. Kissies ✨

Taglist:

@grantaires-waistcoat

@tellybearryyyy

[clarisse0o]

Camp Wiegman-Part 81

Lucy Bronze x Ona Batlle

Alternative Universe: Military School

Words: 5K

Masterlist

———————————————————————

Sunday, April 17th; 2:30 PM - Porto Beach.

“So, how’s it going with your in-laws?”

I’m gazing at the horizon when Alexia's question drops. We decided to have a relaxing day for this first day of vacation in Porto. Jenni is exhausted from the work at the gym, and she wanted us to start off slowly... Well, as slowly as we can, I guess. Alexia and I are soaking up the sun on our towels, while Lucy and Jenni have decided to play a game of volleyball not far from us. It’s hot today for an autumn day, so it’s the perfect opportunity. The beach isn’t crowded, but the sun has brought out a few people anyway. I get it. It’s nice to enjoy this unexpected warmth.

“Well... I had a strange conversation with my mother-in-law this morning.”

“Really? Was it at least in a good way?”

“Oh yes, yes. She straight up told me, ‘Welcome to the family, Ona,’” I mimic in a deeper voice.

Alexia bursts out laughing and props herself up on her elbows. She looks at me through her sunglasses.

“Oh wow, that’s classic. Honestly, you didn’t land the best mother-in-law... Jenni’s parents are lovely compared to her.”

“They seemed pretty nice last night, that’s true. Is it going well with them?”

“Totally, yeah. They’re adorable to me. According to them, I’m her longest relationship... I didn’t know how to take that.”

“I can imagine.”

I laugh before we lapse into a silence. I gaze at the sky where a few clouds are floating, but not enough to cover the sun. It’s strong today. I had to put on sunscreen just in case. With my fair skin, I burn quickly.

“You look like something’s bothering you.”

I sigh and turn my head in her direction. Unlike me, O seems to tan easily. I’m a bit jealous of that. I wish it would happen to me too.

“I think Lucy is hiding something from me.”

She furrows her brow.

“Go on. Why do you think that?”

“She made some vague comments last week, and she’s been acting weird since we got here.”

“Really? I don’t find her behavior different.”

“She’s tense, and I don’t know. I can tell something is bothering her.”

“And do you think there’s a particular reason?”

“I think she went through something here that she’s trying to hide... Or maybe forget. I don’t really know. She barely talked to me about her life here.”

“You sound pretty sure of yourself.”

“It’s a gut feeling. Maybe I’m wrong.”

“Well, ask her.”

“It’s more complicated than that. I don’t want to push her, you know. I feel like she thinks whatever she reveals will change everything between us.”

“That’s silly.”

“Yeah... I know, right?”

I groan and lie down on my stomach. I’m trying to alternate so I get some color on both sides. My friend quickly follows my lead, sighing at the same time.

“I don’t know what to say. Maybe there’s nothing at all. It’s just a feeling, after all.”

“Hmm.”

I’d like to believe that’s the case too. Unfortunately, I don’t think it is.

“And what about you? How did it go between Jenni and Alba? And the party we missed? Was it good?”

She laughs and nods her head. I rest my head on my arms, making sure I can still keep my eyes on her.

“Surprisingly, everything went well. Maybe our big fight wasn’t for nothing. Alba was calm.”

“That’s great!”

“Oh yes, totally. It was a bit tense during their first meeting at the party. Jenni wasn’t comfortable at all at first. Not only did she have to face Alba, but it was also the first time she saw all her students again as my girlfriend, you know?”

“It’s hard to picture her feeling uncomfortable, though.”

I tease, but Lucy reacts the same way. It must be strange for them.

“She was, I swear,” she teases back. “It was funny to see.”

“I bet. Anyway, I’m glad everything’s going well for you. So, how did it go?”

“My sister was cool. She was also a bit tense, but everything went well. They shook hands and, as the evening went on, they started talking.”

“Like, big sister talk?”

“No, no. Alba was genuinely interested in her. Like, she wanted to get to know the person I’m with, you know?”

“Wow. Cool. And our friends? How did they react when they saw Jenni?”

“Shocked,” she laughs. “They didn’t understand anything until they connected it with the school story. No one saw it coming.”

“I can imagine. And last week? Did you all stay together as planned? I think that’s what Alba wanted.”

“Yes. Misa and her helped us out with the gym. I think Alba appreciated that she had such an ambitious project. Plus, it seems like playing tough girl bonds them together. They even managed to laugh together.”

I giggle, burying my head in my arms.

“Well, that’s good then... Everything’s finally falling into place.”

“Yeah. We’ve made so much progress, you and Lucy are going to be surprised. Some furniture is already in place now. It’s totally different from when you left. Oh, and, you were right about one thing. Misa isn’t so bad after all.”

I laugh heartily. She finally understood. Her week must have been interesting. I almost regret not being there.

“I know,” I replied.

I have to admit I’m quite surprised after Alba’s outburst when he overreacted. He managed to reassess himself before the meeting. That’s good. Things are getting back to normal. It was about time.

“But still, something was missing.”

“Oh yeah? What?”

“You and Lucy, of course! I can’t wait for school to be over so she can finally spend time with them. You two were really missed at the party.”

“There are only three weeks left now. We’ll manage to hold out for what’s left.”

“Definitely.”

“Just three more weeks...”

I sigh and close my eyes, burying my head between my arms again. All’s well that ends well, finally. I feel reassured. I can go back to relaxing. However, this peace doesn’t last long. After just a few minutes of tranquility, a wet body comes to lie against mine. I gasp at the coldness it brings. When I open my eyes, I spot some brown strands mingling with my blonde hair. I have nothing to worry about when her lips come to kiss my neck.

“You’re wet,” I mumble, making my girlfriend laugh.

“Sorry, I wanted to cool off before hiding your body.”

“Hiding it, huh?” I giggle.

“Well, yes. A group of guys has been watching you a little too closely for a while now.”

“Oh really? Then it’s better to chase them away,” I tease.

“Exactly. Make some room for me.”

“You really can’t just take your towel, can you?”

I grumble, but I still move to the side to let her lie under me. I half-drop onto her with a sigh of contentment. Actually, no. It’s more comfortable this way. Lucy giggles as she wraps her arms around me.

“No, I can’t. You’re starting to get sunburned, though. Are you sure you’re from Portugal?” she laughs.

“Put some more sunscreen on me instead of teasing.”

“Anything for my princess.”

She wiggles around to grab it from our bag above our heads. Once she gets it, she spreads some in her hands before rubbing it on my back. I enjoy her little caresses as she applies the lotion.

“Thanks,” I murmur.

“It’s my pleasure.”

“So, guys, what are we doing tonight?” Ale asks.

“It’s already planned,” Jenni announces.

“Oh yeah? And what is it?” she asks curiously.

- "Well, that’s up to Lucy to ask."

- "Oh, so you’re doing things behind my back now?"

- "Nonsense. I had the idea, and Jenni approved it this morning," she defends herself.

- "And what’s this idea?"

- "Well... I thought of you. I remembered that you like football matches, and there happens to be one tonight."

- "A football match?" Alexia comments. "What a great idea! It’s been ages since I’ve seen one! Did you get the tickets?"

- "Yes, this morning..."

I smile at Lucy, who's been watching me the whole time. I can tell she’s gauging my reaction. The last time I went to a stadium was with my father.

- "That’s a great idea," I tell her.

I kiss her to accompany my words, and I can feel her relax immediately. Her arms tighten around me, and I rest my head against her chest. I smile at Alexia, who has a small smirk.

- "Well, you two look even closer than before... It was already hard to top that, but now..."

I chuckle softly, snuggling against Lucy. She’s right. I think we’ve reached a point in our relationship where there’s no turning back. If a breakup ever happened, it would be devastating.

- "Hmm... You’re right."

- "What did you do in Lisbon last week?"

- "Not much," Lucy replies. "Lots of rest, hikes, and evenings at the beach."

- "Hmm, hmm..."

Her smile grows, and I roll my eyes with a small laugh. I have a feeling she’s going to grill me when we’re alone.

- "Hey, there’s an ice cream vendor passing by. Do you want one?" Lucy offers.

It seems like I’m not the only one trying to dodge the conversation, which makes me laugh again.

- "Good idea, I’ll go with you."

- "Yeah, go ahead, run away instead of telling us what’s changed so much between you two!"

We laugh heartily at Alexia's playful shout as we walk away. I kiss Lucy, who holds me tightly with her arm around my shoulders.

- "I love you," she whispers to me while I’m still giggling.

Sunday, April 17; 9:45 PM - Stadium.

Everyone is shouting around us, Alexia being the loudest. The atmosphere is wild. I don’t remember it being this intense. Lucy had a great idea, and I’m so glad we’re here right now. She’s the best girlfriend. I never thought she’d remember such a small detail I’d told her a long time ago. It’s just a league match, but the fans are giving their all for their team.

- "I can’t believe it! How did she miss such an easy chance!?"

- "I didn’t know she liked football this much," I whisper to my girlfriend.

She laughs, watching my friend who’s now standing, fuming. She’s one of those people who hate when the home team is losing by just one goal.

- "Me neither."

- "Pff! Unbelievable," Alexia says as she sits back down beside me.

- "Sweetheart, maybe you should calm down a bit," Jenni tries to soothe her.

I can’t hold in my laughter anymore, and neither can Lucy. This scene is just too funny. It seems I’m also witnessing a very uncomfortable Jenni.

- "But seriously! Even I could do better than them!" she says, crossing her arms.

- "Oh, really?" I tease.

- "Hey, don’t laugh. I played football for a long time in high school. The only issue was that we kept changing schools."

She crosses her arms and continues sulking.

- "Oh, I didn’t mean to upset you," I giggle. "I didn’t know you played football."

- "Well, now you know. But seriously, this amateur team can’t even equalize," she continues with exaggerated gestures.

This time I burst out laughing. She’s clearly making our night.

- "We really need to think of bringing her along every time we go to a match," I say to Lucy.

- "Oh no, please don’t," Jenni begs from her other side.

The poor girl’s going to have to endure this for a while longer. Halftime eventually arrives. Lucy and Jenni had left a bit earlier to grab something to eat since we hadn’t stopped anywhere before. Alexia has finally calmed down, though she’s clearly upset that her team hasn’t managed to close the gap.

- "So, are you finally going to tell me what’s up with you and Lucy?" she asks.

- "Tell you what?"

- "Don’t play innocent," she says with a mischievous grin. "Something’s different, I can feel it."

- "There’s nothing special, I assure you," I giggle. "I think being away from school has been good for us."

- "Did you tell her about Feli? You know... what she doesn’t know yet."

- "Briefly, yes. She had a feeling, but she cut me off. I think she doesn’t want to know, and that’s fine with me."

- "So, Mapi was wrong in the end."

I chuckle and nod.

- "She doesn’t need to know. Otherwise, she’d be upset."

- "Mum’s the word, I promise," she says with a wink.

I smile sincerely at her. There are perks to being close to two friends at once. If I can’t tell one something, I can tell the other.

- "The important thing is that you were able to let it out. I’ve never seen you so relaxed. You’re at peace."

- "She’s made me feel at peace," I reply.

- "Have you been able to enjoy her company?" she asks, raising her eyebrows suggestively, making me laugh.

- "Stop," I say, blushing.

- "What? You’re not going to get shy about this now, are you?"

- "And what about you and Jenni?"

- "Oh no, no, no. This isn’t about us. Your situation is more complicated."

I roll my eyes. Well, she’s not wrong, but she doesn’t need to remind me. To make her think otherwise, I respond:

- "Well, actually, this trip has been very... fruitful. We’ve enjoyed ourselves... especially in the evenings."

- "Really?" she says, surprised.

- "Oh yes. Lucy is a goddess," I admit, blushing again as I think back to our nights together.

She laughs loudly.

- "Wow... She must have really put you in some kind of state for you to blush like that."

- "Stop, it’s not funny."

- "It’s crazy, though."

- "What is?"

- "Well, a few months ago, she hated me for getting her best friend kicked out. Now she’s dating a student, and we’re even spending time together at her place. I seriously never saw that coming."

- "I believe you."

- "I’m so glad you came to the school. It’s the best thing that could have happened to me. Not only do I have a best friend now, but you’ve completely changed my circle. Everything could have been so different without you."

I smile sincerely at her. I totally understand what she means.

- "I know exactly what you mean. If I hadn’t come here, I’d probably still be in my room, feeling sorry for myself. Or who knows, maybe I’d have left home again to go back to drugs."

- "Don’t say that. I don’t think you would’ve sunk that low."

- "You’re wrong. I think I would have. I had nothing to hold on to before. Now I have Lucy, Mapi, you, and everyone else. And let’s not even talk about my future. I never would have worked in the arts without Lucy."

- "As they say, ‘if’ changes the world. We were lucky that only good things came our way. Not everyone gets that."

- "That’s true," I sigh. "In the end, the school has every reason to exist. It really does work miracles."

Alexia laughs, nodding in agreement. Unlike me, she’s believed in this from the start, but I’m only realizing it now. It’s a good thing it exists. When you're surrounded by good people, everything changes. You lose that hatred for the world. You only see the good. That’s how I feel right now.

- "Do you already know if you’re going to meet Lucy’s family? Jenni told me they all live nearby and that she’s close to them. She thinks you’ll be meeting them soon."

- "Are you reading their minds or something?"

- "Why do you say that?" she teases.

- "When we got back from the beach to change before meeting you, her parents told us they’re organizing a big barbecue. They want me to meet everyone."

- "Really? That’s cool."

- "Yeah... I hope you’ll be invited. That way, you can support me."

- "Oh, I don’t think you need to worry."

- "You just said she’s close to them. What if they don’t like me? What do I do?"

- "Well, nothing at all," she giggles. "Lucy loves you. She’s not going to leave you over that."

- "Hmm..."

"Don’t make that face. I’m sure they’re going to love you. »

- We’ll see.

- You managed to win over her mother in just one day. I think you’ll be able to handle the rest of her family, right?

- Yeah… You’re probably right.

To be honest, her mother is quite something. Even Alexia noticed it after just one meal with her.

- Anyway, all that matters is that Lucy loves you. She’ll never let them bring you down. She doesn’t let anyone do that.

I sigh softly. Now that I think about it, she’s right. Lucy always takes my side, as long as I’m doing the right thing.

- Is she just as nervous about meeting your family? Because she’s going with you to your mother’s wedding, right?

- Yes, but I don’t think so. She hasn’t mentioned it. On the other hand, she’s more anxious about meeting my friends. Well, she already knows them, but you know… being the “commander” and all, she’s not exactly at ease.

- That’s strange, I think… I’ve been thinking since you talked to me this afternoon.

- About what?

- Well, you know, about that feeling you have regarding Lucy.

- And?

- Well, we’re in their hometown, right? What did you do the first time you went home during your first leave?

- Uh…

I frown, trying to remember. I’m not sure where she’s going with this, but I’ll play along.

- I spent time with Mapi, and we went out the next night.

- Exactly. They lived here until at least high school. Don’t you find it odd that Lucy or even Jenni never talk about their friends here? Of course, they have friends in Manchester, but they should have some here too, right?

The thought strikes me. Indeed, Lucy has never mentioned her friends. There’s Jenni, of course, but that’s it. Otherwise, she only talks about her family.

- Hasn’t Jenni ever talked to you about it either? I asked her.

- Well, no, but I’d never thought about it before. Only after what you said this afternoon.

I nod.

- It is strange, indeed...

- I’ll help you investigate if you want, but for now, we’d better change the subject. They’re coming back.

- Thanks, but it won’t be necessary. I’m sure Lucy will talk to me about it when she feels the need.

I turn to see them climbing the stairs. When they reach us, we stand up to let Jenni sit next to her girlfriend. I sit back down at the same time as Lucy, taking my drink and hot dog from her.

- Thank you, that’s sweet.

I give her a kiss, which she accepts with a smile I can feel against my lips. I appreciate that we still show affection for little things. It really expresses our feelings.

- You’re welcome.

- We almost got caught, comments Jenni. There were already a lot of people.

- It’s fine, the second half hasn’t started yet.

- Well, just barely, I point out to them.

The players are returning to the field. It’s crazy how everyone’s eyes are glued to their seats.

- Cool! Finally.

- Please, babe. Try to calm down. Our neighbors are going to lose their patience at this rate.

It’s true that we’ve had several disapproving looks between Alexia’s shouts and our laughter.

- Hmm… Anyway, I’m hungry, she says, taking a bite of her hot dog.

We eat ours while watching the second half. Alexia seems to have taken the hint because she remains much calmer during this time. Maybe it’s because the team managed to equalize as soon as they came back. It’s past eleven when the match finally ends. Everyone is in high spirits, singing along after the team’s victory. Alexia is in total euphoria.

- They fought like tigers! It was amazing.

- So, there’s no stopping her, I tease softly.

- At least she brings good vibes.

I snuggle closer to Lucy, who keeps me close against her. A huge crowd has formed to exit the stadium. It’s a good way to avoid getting lost on our way out.

- We could still go for a drink, my friend suggests.

- Oh, it’s almost midnight, her girlfriend points out. We’re all exhausted.

She looks at us for support. She really seems drained. After all, she’s been working non-stop to get the gym ready to open on time. It must be something, considering she still works another job to cover her rent.

- Well… Why not? Lucy responds. Our car is downtown anyway. Unless you’re too tired, Jenni.

- You’re abandoning me now? I thought we were supposed to stick together!

My girlfriend chuckles softly.

- Sorry, but I thought it was a good idea.

- Come on, babe, Ale pleads. You’re not going to be a party pooper, are you? Even Lucy said yes!

She sighs, running a hand over her head.

- We won’t stay long, I assure her.

- Fine, she mutters. Let’s go then. But I really don’t want to stay out late. I won’t be able to keep up all week otherwise.

- You’re amazing! I promise we won’t stay long!

She leads the way, almost skipping. Lucy laughs at Jenni’s exasperated look.

- Really, Lucy? What’s gotten into you?

- Oh come on, relax. It’s just a beer. You’ll have time to sleep tomorrow morning.

- Hmm. You’ll pay for this.

I smile as I watch them closely. I know they’re close, but I think I’m starting to understand why now… I just don’t know the reasons yet. I hope Lucy will tell me soon, otherwise I’m not sure I’ll be able to resist investigating, and I doubt she’ll appreciate that.

[savvyreyes4587]

The Red Woman

PM!Dazai x Fem!Reader

Nakahara Chuuya x Fem!Reader

Summary: You're alive and well but a new problem pops up and Dazai chose to get involved.

Author's note: A small filler chapter to make up for my disappearance, this one is written through my arm pain, lol! So enjoy!

Warnings: lots of manipulation, child manipulation(is that thing?), reader's past… I think that's it?

Taglist: @v15aexe @hotwomanlythings @zaushimo @mintyymao @destinyisastar @lilyosamu

"Now, my little Weaver. Let's try this again." The brunette told the small girl in front of her, so young, so naive so… vulnerable.

"Eve-"

"No, Viktor, she can do it! She did it before, she can do it again." Then her angry red eyes turned to the girl who tried to make herself smaller under her gaze, afraid to anger the bad woman even more.

"Now, do it, my sweet child." Evelyn said in that sweet as honey tone, one she mastered to give a false sense of saftey but abuse can resemble affection to people starved from it and the time weaver… she was starting.

The girl crawled on the mat carfully, her eyes still on the ground, not wanting to see the evil lurking beneath her red orbs, she even sometimes felt like she could be killed just by looking into them.

With her small voice that was barley heard from how small she talked… allowed to talk, she wandered, her young mind, pure, innocent.

"What if I hurt someone again?" She now settled beside her 'mentor', her knees pulled to her chest, her arms resting above them as a protective wall, even if she knew nothing she could do could protect her.

Evelyn smiled a smile that resembled that of a mother's, one filled with love and understand, two things she lacked yet she stilll took the weaver's smaller hands into hers and turning her to look into her eyes.

"Now, now. What did we day about off-rails experiments?" Her tone was soothing, calming and utterly pretty, which made the weaver believe taht not all evil came in a bad shape… some of them were so pretty.

The weaver answered, her eyes drifting left and right as her cute voice sounded. "We forget about them and move on to the next try."

"Exactly and besides, we're not experimenting on someone this time." Eve told the little girl in a cheerful manner, ignoring the disappointed looks Viktor was giving her.

The little girl's eyes shined with hope and happiness, sitting down on her knees and looking up at the woman and she was the happiest Eve saw her since she got her. "We're not?"

Even shook her head. "No and wanna know something else?"

The girl nodded her head frantically, excited to know another good thing as her body buzzed with excitement.

"If you do this successfully… I'll take you to see your sister."

"Really?"

Evelyn lips tugged upwards, glad to her manipulation worked. "Really."

And for the first time in months, the weaver smiled, unlike any other time she smiled because she desperately wanted to see her sister… she missed her sister.

Eve spoke again as Viktor shuffled behind them to get something. "Now, all I want you to do is change time around…"

Viktor placed something in Eve's hand. "…this apple."

"Apple?" The weaver was curious and kind of nervous… she never experimented on something not someone… what if she failed… shs wouldn't get to see her sister.

Eve hummed, placing the apple right in front of the girl, it looked delicious that the weaver wanted to leap and take bite of it after her meals were lessened after her lazt failure….

"I simply want you to make time pass only for the apple… not us."

The weaver looked at her, unsure before she looked up at Viktor behind her… Viktor was nice, she liked Viktor, he gave her sweets when Eve wasn't around and he smiled at her reassuringly.

Then she let her hand out of her cocoon, and brought close to the apple and closed her eyes--

"No, eyes open, remember?" Eve snapped quickly and the girl opened her eyes widely, terrified from the sudden change in the angry red woman.

With an agonising effort, a purple rope appeared from under the girl's skin, moving around her arm like a snake, going around it im circles until it decorating her arm like a second skin before it wrapped around the apple.

The weaver fought against the utter pain that followed each time she let a rope out, but a whimper escaped her and if Eve heard it, she simply didn't care and kept on watching the rope with fascination.

The girl was shaking slightly, terrified of what the red woman would do to her if she failed again or worse, what she would do to her sister.

Slowly, the purple halo wrapped around the apple the same way it did the weaver and then it was almost unnoticeable but something in the apple was changing… it was rotting as if it had been out in the open for weeks, only it was here for seconds.

The weaver's ability was evolving rapidly recently and this was as much proof as needed when the apple rotted completely in her ropes hold in the matter of seconds and Eve laughed in shock.

A few ragged breaths left the girl as pain hit her for overusing her ability but she then soon realised that she actually did it… she managed to work her ability on an object, the experiment was successful.

"Good job, my little weaver!" Eve opened her palm for a high five with a smile and the girl couldn't resist as she mirror her grin and hit their palms together sweetly.

She could see her sister…

Your head was pounding as if someone was banging on it with a hammer, unnecessarily hard and opening your eyes took effort when they felt like they were glued shut somehow.

So weak, always so weak, Weaver.

That had your eyes snapping wide open and frantically looking around, searched for her, afraid that she was here somewhere, ready to kill you for talking.

"Hey, hey, calm down." Dazai's voice sounded beside you, his bandaged hands pushing down on your shoulders, forcing you to lie down on and in instant your mind was set at ease looking into his chocolate brown eye.

She wasn't here… he was and he was the one that saved you from a certain death and your body acted on its own will as your hand grabbed his wrist, pulling on it in a suffocating grip.

His gaze went to your hand, something weird happening to his heart at the thought of you seeking him, for protection or for anything else but he didn’t care, as long as you were close he never cared.

One of his cold hands covered yours and he murmured gently. "It's okay, Belladonna. You're okay."

You swallowed the lump in your throat and let your grip flatter before letting go of his wrist with a nod but you were still not sure, something was wrong with you… it felt like she was still there with you.

"What happened? After I passed out I mean." You asked with a sore throat but something about that event was nagging at you deeply and you needed to know why.

Dazai stared ahead without an answer for a while but you knew how he processed by now, he needed to remember all aspects before uttering a single word to you.

"That girl escaped, her subordinates saved her after Hirotsu-san knocked her out and then they retreated." He announced his eye having a once over on your face, looking for something and you manged to catch on rather swiftly.

With a shake of your head, you spoke firmly, partially because you were offended by his unspoken accusation. "I don't know why my ability didn't work on her either, so don't you dare accuse me--"

His eye sliced to yours and you shut up the second it did. "I wasn't going to accuse you, you're smarter than betraying the mafia in the first few months anyway."

He then stood up and went over to the window in your 'hospital' room, unmoving as his gaze stuck outside and you sat up the in the bed.

"Then what is it?" You asked, now more curious than ever because accusing would have made sense but whatever is playing out in his brain now… isn't.

"Last to my knowledge and correct me if I'm wrong even though I'm mostly not, but no one really knows your ability up close, right?" Not a glance was spared your way as he talked, still lost in his haze outside.

Your brows dipped in confusion as you sorted through your memories, the ones you remembered anyways, and came empty handed. "No, no one did."

Dazai hummed and his silence returned which had you irritated now, you needed answers.

"What's happening Dazai?" You pressed on through the unease filling your whole body, fueling it with nerves.

He now turned to you again, his eye belonged to that of the demon Prodigy. "They sent someone who could counter your ability, someone they knew could do that which means they know your ability-"

He raised his hand in demonstration. "-like the back of their hand."

Your mind went blank, sweat forming on my forehead as you took his words in. If that was true then only a handful of people knew your ability…

"The one leading them is someone you know, Bella. The one leading them is someone who knows you and to my knowledge only one person does that so it's either him or…"

He trailed off but you knew what he meant… what he wanted to hear and what you dread.

"It's not Keisuke… it's her." You whispered harshly, fist tightening over the blanket covering you as you remembered her… the red woman.

"Who is 'her'?" He leaned down, hands cornering on each side of your body, trapping with his body while his eye was breaking into your soul.

"Evelyn Sable." You said her name, spoke it after she threatened you that she would seal it shut if you told but you weren't afraid because that man in front of you was many things but one thing wasn't one of them… he was no coward… and he loved a good challenge.

He nodded in a scary way before pulling back with that smirk you knew meant trouble, only this time not just for him.

I'm coming, Sable.

Comment if you'd like to be added to the taglist.

[secretwhumplair]

Departure

741 words | No Warrior (sequel to Changing season)

Content | Existential insecurity I guess?, mention of pregnancy

Notes | The day has come. No not that day.

Taglist | @just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi @castielamigos-whump-side-blog​​ @whump-me-all-night-long​​​​ @whumpadump1939​​ @thingsthatgo-whump-inthenight

@whumpzone​​ @angel-stars​​ @kixngiggles​​ @whumpsy-daisies @yet-another-heathen

@rosesareviolentlyread @cupcakes-and-pain @hollowtreesinhollowwoods @pleasancies @much-ado-about-whumping​​

@nine-tailed-whump​​ @whump-em​​​ @itsleighlove​​ @newbornwhumperfly​​​ @tears-and-lilies

@deluxewhump @whump-cravings @wolfeyedwitch @melancholy-in-the-morning @neverthelass

@whumpsday @silent-orchid-lady @everynameistakencarrots

The whole village assembled at the pier to see the warriors off. It was a beautiful day, the sea almost blinding with sunlight, a firm but gentle breeze catching in Yves’ hair, now long enough to tickle his ears. He didn’t want to cut it, of course, he would suffer through the little inconvenience until it was long enough to tuck behind his ears properly.

He had come with Runar, and it felt strange, knowing that he would leave without him.

Runar hugged his family members, hugged Ingunn, who by now had a noticeable bump, and wished her well. She laughed, her eyes remaining serious. »Can’t wait to introduce you when you come back. Now go forth and bring them back something nice.«

Runar turned to Yves. His hug was as warm and secure as ever. It felt strange to think he’d be without it.

»Take care.«

»Come back.« Yves couldn’t stop the stupid words. He didn’t want to guilt Runar — this was what he did. This was the reason Yves had been saved.

Something heavy settled into his stomach. He had known the goodbye was coming, Runar had warned him, and of course there was no way he would be going with him. He didn’t want to go back, and he knew he couldn’t fight. Still, Runar had been taking care of him all this time, and now? Now he’d have to get by all by himself.

He squeezed Runar as hard as he could, knowing he couldn’t hurt him if he tried. He couldn’t let that stupid comment be the last he said to him. »Take care, too.«

»I will.« Runar squeezed him back more carefully, and for a moment, Yves thought he felt Runar’s heart race in his chest. He couldn’t be sure over the sound of his own.

Then Runar and the rest of the warriors boarded, ropes were loosened, and in the midst of much shouting and waving, the sail caught the favourable wind the elders had predicted for today.

They stood as the ship left. When it was out of earshot, the villagers started to leave. Yves stood still at the pier, his eyes still on the vessel gliding across the glittering waves. He barely noticed the crowd around him thinning.

It felt strange, watching the sail disappear on the horizon.

For the first time since… he was really without Runar. No one to come running when things went wrong; no one to run to.

A sudden, dizzying rush of panic washed through him, so fierce his vision swam, his breath caught in his throat. He was alone, and defenseless.

»Yves.« Someone touched his wrist; a cooler hand than Runar’s had ever been.

With some effort, he focused on Aslaug standing next to him. She said nothing more, as usual, just looked at him attentively.

He wasn’t alone. He was one of them. That was what Runar had said.

Now he’d find out if it would hold up.

He struggled to calm his breath. He was being pathetic. He wasn’t a child. He didn’t need to be looked after; wasn’t that what he had wished for, even months ago?

»It’s hard,« Aslaug said.

Yves simply nodded. »Thanks.«

She smiled, nodded back at him, then turned to leave.

When Yves followed her, he saw most of the others had already left. Signy’s spouses remained, but only because they had gotten distracted by one another; it must be nice to keep someone while their wife was at sea.

Yves looked away from their kisses and made his way back into the village as well.

* Runar looked back for as long as he could make out Yves’ little figure standing at the pier. He had said goodbye to his family many times, and they to him, but for Yves… it was different. He wasn’t surprised he remained for as long as Runar could see him.

He just hoped he wasn’t frozen in fear once more.

There was nothing he could do anymore. He had to hope what he had done so far — what Yves had managed so far — was enough.

Someone punched his shoulder.

»He’ll be okay,« Signy declared confidently. »He’s strong. And he’s been fine for months, to be honest. Stop worrying so much.«

»Excuse me? This could have been about Ingunn and the baby.«

Signy laughed. »Sure. Now come on, time to look forward.«

He chased her to the bow, and couldn’t help a laugh, himself.

[fumifooms]

Chilchuck analysis speedrun: As a hardworking half-foot who grew up poor and discriminated against and had his gullibility taken advantage of multiple times in his early adventuring days, Chilchuck thinks optimism is a dangerous flaw. He’s stressed and strict all the time because his job is noticing details like traps that could get everyone killed before anyone knows it, he takes the lives of everyone to be on his shoulders, and with the way he speaks about it that probably partly reflects how he felt about taking it upon himself to provide for his family too. His life’s always been pretty centered around work and has become even moreso now that his wife left and everyone is independent, and due to past events he’s very iffy with bonding with coworkers. He thinks feelings and job are a disaster mix. Like with his wife or with parties hiring him as sacrifice, being open or having good faith is vulnerability which can get you hurt, so he processes and shows all his stress as anger instead of worry. Doing strict dieting probably isn’t helping the irritability what with hunger, and on top of being a hunger suppressant alcohol might be the main stress reliever he has.

His grey hairs are so earned

[justaz]

thinking about immortal merlin going to a super famous artist who is known for having super lifelike paintings a few hundred years after arthur dies and telling them their story and having the artist paint arthur just by merlin’s descriptions instead of by a recreation with his magic and just reliving his life in camelot mentally while sitting on this artists couch as they bring arthur back to life for merlin

[toytulini]

me, stupidly and weirdly resistant to listening to audio books vs reading a physical book for no real reason: man i wish there was a way to like, read a book while i crochet like i do with tv shows and movies and podcasts

[cerise-on-top]

Hiiii how are you?? Id like to request farah finds out reader is ticklish and uses it agenist them when reader is in a bad mood and being rude to everyone

(Sorry if this is really silly btw🫶🏻🫶🏻)

Hey! I'm doing well! Got a surge of motivation to write before therapy! This ask was just the right amount of silly actually! It was very fun to write!

Cheer Up Tickles with Farah

She’d likely find out when she wraps an arm around your waist and her fingers twitch a bit for a moment, making you react a little bit. Unfortunately, she’d pick up on that immediately, raise her eyebrow and give you a knowing smile. It’s a slightly cocky one as well, because she knows your weakness now, so if she ever felt like it, she could destroy you. Farah might poke you from time to time, but it usually won’t go farther than that. However, if you’re being especially grumpy for no reason whatsoever and you’re being rude to everyone, that might change.

At first she’d just poke your side, gauge your reaction. You can cuss her out all you want, she’s not going to let up just yet. It’s then that you can either cheer up and apologize to her, or feel her wrath and tickles. However, given your ask, you don’t cheer up, instead noticing, with horror in your eyes, that you messed up. Farah would wiggle her fingers at you before pouncing like a tiger that got its first prey in three days. Although she may go easy on you at first, letting you struggle so you feel as though you have a chance of getting away, there’s no way she’d just let you go like that. You can squirm all you want, you’re trapped underneath her since she’s a very strong fighter. You’re not going to escape her grasp, you’re going to get tickled and teased to oblivion and back. Once you’re calm, she’d start teasing you a bit before going in for the kill.

Farah wouldn’t even hesitate to be gentle in the beginning, she’s gonna get you good from the get go, straddling you and squeezing your sides. Try to throw her off all you want, you can’t. It’s fun to her if you struggle a bit as well, it makes it all the more challenging for her. While she may not know just yet where your weak spots are, she’ll find them quickly enough, staying in one spot for a few moments before switching to your armpits, for example. If you trap her fingers there she’s gonna have a field trip. No matter how much you’re laughing at that point, she’ll tease you about being less grumpy already and how you’re smiling like a goof. How adorable you are and how she should just tickle you more often when she has the time to do so.

Naturally, she’s a leader, so she needs to make sure all her loved ones are doing well, therefore she needs to check up on your ribs as well. Counts them, prods at them, vibrates her fingers between them to make sure you haven’t sustained any injuries. If you’re completely healthy, then she’ll say so, but she also needs to make sure your tummy is in good condition. Lifts up your shirt and starts scribbling away to make sure everything is in order. However, as time goes on, she’d grow a bit hungry and nibble at your sides and your ribs as well. Besides, while she may need to be sated, she also wants to share something delicious with you as well. So naturally, kind as she is, she gives you some raspberries.

However, once she notices your laughter having gone silent, or when there are a lot of tears streaming down your face, that’s when she’ll slow down a bit, before stopping entirely. Your dazed, cute face is just too adorable, though, so she’ll lean over to give you a kiss on your forehead and wipe away your tears with her thumb. Once she sees that you’ve been cheered up, she’ll get off of you, put your shirt over your tummy again and laugh a bit about how tired you seem all of a sudden. You weren’t this tired yet when you were cussing her out still. Pats your tummy one last time and helps you up, even if you don’t need her help. You seem out of it a bit, but not unhappy.

Farah doesn’t mind having tickle fights with you every once in a while. However, be warned, if you ever decide to tickle her first, then I can assure you that she’s going to get her revenge. Besides, she can hold her reactions in quite well. Much to your dismay, she’s also rather observant, so she’s going to figure out which spots make you scream fairly quickly. She’s always so serious anyway, so sometimes you just need to let loose and be a little goofy. Loves getting to be silly with you from time to time, even if it’s just through play fighting and tickling one another.