#lmk tickling

[tickletails]

I had the urge to draw this

[pleasantickles]

They were in the middle of training when Red discovered something rather interesting about MK~

I really like how this piece turned out. <3

[helleboretks]

HAH! Got 'Em!!!

Hello hello hello! First fic in a couple months for my newest fandom Lego Monkie Kid! This is a Lee!Nezha, Lers!Wukong, Mei and MK ticklefic, so if it isn't your forte, no need to read!

(This is Nezha, if anyone wants to gaze upon this absolutely beautiful specimen uwu)

Summary: Wukong wanted to test out if their resident Third Lotus Prince was ticklish. Only Buddha knows what kind of chaos arose from it.

“This is purely experimentative, kid.”

“No it isn’t, Monkey King.”

“Yeaaaaah-no, no it isn’t.”

Mk snorted with a roll of his eyes as Wukong took a few strands of fur from his head, gently blowing on them to produce a few feathers.

“C’mon! You can’t say you’re not curious. I know that look in your eye.” He was right, of course, Mk was pretty curious about this idea too. Would Nezha actually be ticklish? Given that he was reincarnated from a plant-a lotus no less-there had to be something his body did and didn’t replicate from the original, right?

“Has he ever even been tickled before?” Mk wonders aloud, sitting down in the seat next to Wukong. The Noodle Shop was pretty empty today save for his friends and, well obviously, the Lotus Prince himself. Mk’s both surprised and relieved that the man actually found time to take a break, and even felt honored that he’d want to spend it here, with them.

Now he’s wondering how long it’ll be until he regrets it.

“Hmm, not from what I can recall? No???” Monkey King squeaked, looking as if he was seriously racking his brain for some kind of memory. “Yeah no, not from what I can remember.”

“If he’s actually ticklish you’re going to kill him.”

“Oh Pfft, nah he won’t die. You can’t die like that! I think.”

Mk was not about to tell Monkey King that you can, in fact, meet death by tickling. Not right now at least.

No one seemed to notice the little cluster of feathers floating closer and closer to the prince, who found himself in a rather engaging conversation with Tang about some history or other that Mk couldn’t parse out. They both waited with bated breath as he shifted his arms to rest comfortably on the counter.

“Welp, I’ve got nothing to lose.” Famous last words, but alright.

And then the feathers shot into Nezha’s armor.

And look-

LOOK-

The sheer volume of the scream Nezha let out as he flew right off the chair-Mk couldn’t help but crack up laughing as Wukong ducked under the table in surprise, trying to stifle his own laughter.

“HAH!! GOT ‘EEEEEEEEEEEM!!!” Mk screamed as Nezha grabbed and tussled at his clothing, shrieks erupting from his throat.

“Lotus boy!? Mk what did you do!?” Mei exclaimed, clearly less intent on helping and more intent on actually knowing what the fuck they had done.

“THERE’S SOMETHING IN MY ARMOR! THEHEHERE’S-OH MY GOHOHOD WHAT THE FU-” You could just hear Wukong’s dry wheeze from under the table as Nezha’s franticness caused him to bump into one of the chairs, practically crumbling onto one of the tables as Tang choked on his noodles with a chortle.

“Are you-Oh my god, Lotus boy’s ticklish!” Mk nodded to Mei’s statement, and honestly, he was pretty surprised by just how much those feathers affected the man. He was laughing up a storm from wherever those feathers were tickling him, Mk couldn’t really see where they were, but he knew they were doing something.

Or he’d probably just never been tickled in his life and the sensation shocked his soul right out of his body.

That’s also a possibility.

“What the hell? Oi, Monkey King, is this your doing?!” Apparently Pigsy had been the first one to catch onto the real culprit, and Mk banged a fist against the table with a snort as Wukong let out an offended gasp from his hiding spot, popping out into the open.

“I will have you know, mister man of the pigs! I didn’t do nothing!” Wukong sassed, shaking his head from side to side, wagging his finger disapprovingly. That, however, masked the fact that he was probably making those feathers move even faster, because Nezha’s laughter went up an octave right after.

“WUKOHOHOHONG!!! I-I’M GOHONNA KIHIHIHILL YOU-” Monkey King gave an especially skeptical look, turning to Mk, who too was laughing hysterically, just not from the result of being tickled himself. “Yakow, I’m not so sure he’s actually going to do it. I mean, look at the guy! Look at him, take a good look!” Monkey King jested, grabbing Mk by the cheeks and directing his attention back to Nezha.

He could see Nezha, half his body on the table, the other half on the floor as he gripped the edges of the wood, laughing up a storm as he practically vibrated like mad. His face was alight in an adorable blush of pink, eyes squeezed shut with a wobbly, wide grin to boot. He really didn’t look anywhere close to being capable of killing Monkey King in the state he was in.

But then he saw Mei hopped off her seat, a damn near devilish look on her face.

He knew Nezha was in for some shit.

“Here! Lemme help you out, buddy!” Mei spoke too cheerfully to be anything but a trap, but with the way the Lotus Prince was too preoccupied trying to get a grip of himself, he realized that fact a little too late, practically squealing as Mei snatched him by the sides, skittering her nails all over.

Wukong laughed as Nezha flew back unintentionally, right into the person who was making it worse. He kicked his legs as Mei struggled to hold him up with a huffing laugh, scrambling to grab her biceps and shake them.

And not for the first time, Mk doesn’t see the stoic Lotus Prince persona that Nezha tries so hard to keep up. He just sees Nezha; a man who seriously needs a break, and a little too ticklish for his own good.

So you can’t entirely blame Mk for wanting to be a prick.

He jumps over the table, letting out a weird as hell war cry before snatching Nezha by the legs. “YOU’RE COMIN’ WITH ME, MY DUDE-”

Nezha shrieked as Mk began to drag him around the floor, Tang really choking on his noodles as Mei howled with laughter, whipping out her phone to record the absolute madness. Nezha was gripping his ribs-which is probably where Wukong’s feathers are- shaking his head manically as he tried to wrench himself from Mk’s grasp.

“MK, NAHAHAHA-” “HEY!! I just cleaned those floors, kid!!!” Wukong slapped his hand on the table repeatedly as Pigsy called out, and Mk defiantly continued to drag this man everywhere he could, still carefully avoiding chairs and table legs as he went.

“WELL I’M USIN’ IT, DADSY, I’M BUSY!!” Mk shouted back as Mei followed behind him, catching it all on video.

“The poor man! Mk no!” Tang laughed, clearly not as against it as Pigsy is, who stared in dumbfounded disbelief as the two kids messed with the Lotus Prince himself. Nezha, meanwhile, was trying to cling onto anything with a solid structure but was doing nothing other than dragging chairs and tables out of place in his hysteria.

“Look at this BOI-” Mei cheered, causing Mk to wheeze as he shook Nezha’s legs from side to side, the man letting out a squeak as Wukong hopped over.

“WAIT, I GOT THIS!!” That was the only warning that any of them had gotten before a whole barrage of feathers descended on the prince, who screamed in shock before that shock quickly dissolved into the most batshit manic laughter Mk had ever bore witness to.

Mei wheezed, the grip on her phone trembling as the man on the ground thrashed damn near violently, and Mk had to hold tighter onto his legs so he wouldn’t get himself a boot to the face.

“I. AM. FEATHER-BUDDHA!!!” Wukong cried, throwing his hands dramatically into the air as Mei got the bright idea to place her phone down, grab Nezha’s arms, and hoist him the rest of the way up.

“FEATHER JESUS-” She cried just as dramatically as the two swung the prince back and forth, laughing themselves silly as Nezha laughed himself into a tizzy.

For a split second, Mk swore he saw macaque walk in, stare, and then slide right back out in one smooth motion and just-wow, what a great cameo.

“MACAHAHAHAQUE, YOU TRAHAITOR-” Oh he saw him, oh shit-

“I do not exist. Good luck.” Wukong wheezed and almost fell off the damn table as Macaque took his seat at the counter, turning away as if he weren’t just called out to.

“GUHUHUYS, QUIT IHIHIHIT!! PLEHEHEHEAAHAHASE-” Nezha pleaded, trying so desperately to wiggle his way out of the situation. Mk took the liberty of being the local gremlin.

“Ohohoho! But my little nezzy-wezzy-” So many wheezes wrung out at once as Nezha shrieked in embarrassment. Mk hoisted him up so that he had a grip of his knees, Mei slowing down the swinging to a stop as Mk jostled him further.

Wukong, sensing that some more shit was going to go down, slowed the feathers to somewhat of a more breathable speed, and Nezha choked on the breath he sucked in. The smile that forced itself onto his face was both down-right adorable, and freakishly foreign to him. That is something that’s going to have to change, then.

“You know, to be the best gremlin out there, all bets are off the table.” Mk dramatically announced. “AND SO!!” Nezha jumped at the loud tone, anticipatory giggles already spilling from his lips.

“What the heck he’s already laughing, awe-AND SO,” Mk repeated with a dramatic pause. “Mei, get his shirt.”

His bestie didn’t need to be told twice, Nezha letting out a shriek as she pulled his shirt up and away from his belly. “LOCAL GREMLINS!! ASSEMBLE!!!” She cried-

Right as Mk blew a raspberry into the center of Nezha’s belly.

There was a loud pop as Nezha exploded into laughter, and a few gasps and awes went around as a pink glow tinged Mk’s peripheral.

He continued to blow raspberry after raspberry with hardly any pause, and he probably would have winced given just how loud and downright evil Nezha’s laughter was, giggles and cackles as he thrashed and squirmed. It was absolutely hilarious.

“HE’S EXPLODING PETALS, MK!!” Mk paused in his raspberry blowing to pinch at the back of his knees, causing a knee-jerk reaction as he grinned at the petals that had shot out into existence, floating to the ground as Nezha snorted.

“God damn, the guy’s got a set of lungs.” Macaque chuckled, placing his hands over his ears with a grin. Mk laughed with a shake of his head, before diving straight back in, this time nibbling with an added sound effect of ‘nom nom nom’.

The petals exploded from him again.

“MK STAHAHAHAHAHAHAP OHMYGOD PLEHEHEHEHEHEHAHAHAHASE!!!!” Nezha cried as if his life depended on it, repeated pops that were just too cute to be real filled the room as the distinct smell of lotuses overwhelmed Mk’s nose as he just kept going and going, blow after blow after blow after-

“JESUS CHRIST KID, GIVE THE MAN A BREAK!!” His record broke with a laugh with the way Pigsy had to shout so loud just to be heard over Nezha’s screaming.

It was when Nezha was so weak that all he could do was tremble and laugh, that Wukong removed the feathers and poofed them into hair, when Mei and he finally-gently-placed him on the floor, and Mk had ceased his merciless tickling, that the man gulped down proper breath since the whole ordeal began.

“Ohohoho, that was golden!” Wukong laughed as he answered to Mk’s high five, Macaque snorting at the way Nezha curled up into a tight little ball, lotus petals surrounding and covering him as he lightly tried to fan his face in hopes of ridding the embarrassed and exhausted blush on his cheeks.

“You damn near killed him, you idiots.” Pigsy sighed in exasperation, looking over the mess that had become his shop within a matter of minutes in very heavy disappointment.

“What-” Nezha panted as he sat up, burning with the rest of his gradually dying embarrassment. “What was that!? Wha-what did you do??” Mk tilted his head in amused confusion, as did Mei and Wukong. “C’mon dude, it’s just tickling! It’s not like it can hurt ya!” Mei dismissed.

A silence was Nezha’s response.

Silence soon enveloped the shop.

“You…you do know what that is, right? Nezha?” Wukong asked with a tilt of his head, this one verging on the dangerous territory of ‘this better be a fucking joke or I swear to the Celestials-’

Nezha just stared at them like they’d grown three heads.

“Oh my God he doesn’t know what tickling is-”

“THE POOR BOIO-”

Nezha yelped as Mei latched onto him in a tight embrace, which caused Mk to automatically snort. Oh this was just sad, both the hilarious kind and also the not-hilarious kind.

Staying in one room to protect a map for thousands of years really must do something to ya, huh?

“I’m actually fucking remorseful. I send my regards.” Macaque hummed, before giving a half-assed salute. “See you on the other side, Lotus Prince.” And then he disappeared into the counter’s shadow. Just like the shifty monkey, doing something like that.

“This is gonna go terribly.” Tang interjected, polishing off his third bowl.

“I’m actually thinking of closing the shop for today, I can’t believe this.” Pigsy grumbled, retreating back into the safety of his kitchen.

Nezha, during all of this, seemed to grow even more confused as the multiple comments were shot fired, and he looked at Mk who only gave him a solemn grin, because even he wasn’t about to mess up what would be-

“This will be the greatest day of your life, Lotus Boy!”

The most disastrous day of his life, courtesy of the local menace, Mei.

“Now! First on my list would be some hands on experience-”

Nezha let out a shrill shriek as Mei’s hands immediately dive for his sides.

A shriek that will be just one of way, way, way too many to come.

[ghostlee]

Please someone interact with me abt Lee!Nezha I am begging with you I need someone to rave about that man with.

PLEASE HAHA send asks dm idc what I just wanna talk abt LMK tickles some more 🤣

[emmyrosee]

The feminine urge to write non!curse au sukuna as super soft for his insignificant other but hides it under a wall of muscle and tattoos 💔

[itsabouttimex2]

I just wanted to ask if you have posted these oneshots on Ao3 as i've found a fic posting them and wanted to check its actually you

(That’s me, alright! I went ahead and changed my name there to match my Tumblr! Thank you very much for checking in with me on this! Also, since we’re here… I’ll go ahead and drop a fluff fic I only uploaded to AO3! Also, this isn’t my usual content, so I’m unfamiliar with proper tags- if there’s one you’d like added, please tell me!)

Hands-On Reunion

Macaque is sure that he’ll end up killing Wukong one of these days, absolutely. He’d find a reason (which would probably be very easy), and then he’d find a way (which would probably take a few hundred years).

And since he’s already got a reason right here and right now, Macaque can get to finding his method of execution all the sooner.

Well, once Wukong is done having his fun.

“Sorry, bud!” The Great Sage says, his fingers dancing over Macaque’s ribs. The ebon monkey writhes under the teasing touch, gnashing his teeth in anger and lashing his tail about. “But we both know you’ve earned this a few times over, huh?”

Okay, so maybe he was occasionally taking food from Wukong’s kitchen. And occasionally stealing away his little monkeys for naps and company. And occasionally entertaining himself with his rival’s console whenever the Great Sage was out.

…very frequently, actually.

So frequently, in fact, that he had gotten relaxed, complacent. His shenanigans were soon performed lazily, openly- a sort of self-brag that swelled Macaque’s confidence.

He just hadn’t expected to get caught pilfering snacks as he carried his haul through the forest.

Nor had he expected that Wukong had readied a method of “punishing” him for it.

“D-damn you! Get your hands off of me, you oversized ape! Thihihihis isn’t funny!”

“What was that, bud? I couldn’t understand! Do you mean… this?!” Wukong jokingly asks, digging his fingers into Macaque’s armpits as the ebon demon squeals. “Or this?!” The ginger follows up, wiggling his digits tortuously fast.

“Stohohohohohop! Ahahaha, Wukoooong! Knock- knock it off, you big brute!”

Both of the hair clones around Macaque chitter, holding his sable-furred limbs down as their master continues to relentlessly tickle him. One even snags his shoes and peels them away, leading Wukong to probe the now defenseless feet with his tail- only drawing louder squeals and giggles from Macaque.

The Great Sage pauses and draws back, but not to give Macaque a reprieve. Instead, he plucks out a two more hairs, blowing life into them with a single breath.

Immediately is the shadow demon besieged, his ribs and feet now being toyed with by two sets of hands each.

“You’re gohohohoing to regret this, Wukong! I swear, I’ll-“

Macaque gasps and cuts short his words when Wukong approaches from behind, lightly placing one hand on either side of his skull.

“No, Wukong, c’mon, plehehehehease! Not my ears, anywhere but my ears! I’ll be good- eeeek!”

To the Monkey King’s utter delight, his assault on Macaque’s many ears doesn’t bring forth laughter- but hooting. The umbrakinetic squirms wildly against his restraints, chittering and squealing in a primal show of lost control.

As he thrashes about in an attempt to displace the clones, Macaque kicks his feet and shrieks, hooting out threat after threat.

“Aww, bud! You sound just like a baby monkey, don’t you? That’s soooo cute!”

He’s met only with further gasps and hooting, Macaque having fully lost himself under the king’s playful assault. It’s also impossible to miss how his face reddens under the teasing, then twists back into anger-

And suddenly, purple smoke unfurls from all corners of Macaque, swelling through the air and forming into… his war form, standing tall but hunched as Macaque tried to recover from his breathless fits of laughter.

“N-nice…,” a pause, as Macaque composes himself enough to put on a dramatic air, “nice try, Wukong! But no one gets the better of me. How about we turn the tables and give you a taste of your own medicine?!

Shadowy tendrils rise smoothly from the ground, lashing around as they try to snag at Wukong’s ankles. With the great amount and speed at which they move, it’s likely they would’ve been able to catch him-

If Wukong hadn’t been ready for this moment, that is. He chuckles and casually backhands one tendril, cutting through it with sheer might. Then, using another few as a balance beam, the Monkey King swings himself into the air, pushing higher and higher as he springs off the cold constructions of darkness.

And once he’s high enough, a golden sphere of light bubbles around him- heralding his own war form, aureate and multi-armed. Macaque has precisely three seconds to register what he’s brought upon himself by upping the ante, and tries by the fourth to run.

Wukong catches him on the fifth, beginning to wrestle his rival of many centuries to the ground. Where they fall the ground cracks and splits open, deep trenches illuminated only by the Monkey King’s light.

With six arms to Macaque’s two, the Great Sage takes a quick win, pinning the sable simian’s shifted form to the ground.

“Wukong,” he bellows through the shadows, fear in his voice at the upcoming assault. “Don’t you dare-“

Laughter, loud and deep, roaring from a giant mouth. The trees shake as ponds ripple, both disturbed to their bottoms by the howling shadow monkey.

His arms are pinned up by two of Wukong’s own, the other four pushing and prodding and punching all across his torso and ribs- and again does the king’s tail find his feet, leaving Macaque squealing even louder.

Then Wukong draws a breath inwards, exhaling it across three of Macaque’s ears-

Prompting another massive fit of simian hooting, the sable demon left to kick and chitter wildly. Unfortunately for him, the thrashing did nothing to waver Wukong’s relentless hands- and only really shifted him further into a disadvantageous position.

In a last-ditch effort to escape, Macaque dispels his form shift, leaving him small enough to slip through even the divots he had left in the earth just minutes earlier.

It doesn’t save him- Wukong catches him by the tail, holding the furry appendage between two large fingers. Placing his tired rival in one large palm, he comes upon the already shaking simian with the five hands left free, each pointer finger wiggling and tickling into Macaque’s skin.

There’s a delight to be had in hearing monkeyish squealing and shouting, desperate chitters and squeaks one after the other. Wukong certainly takes a few minutes to enjoy it.

But even the Great Sage knows that there are times to get serious- and when Macaque’s sneaky yellow eyes bead up with fresh tears that threaten to spill, he pulls all hands away, observing his rival.

Macaque lies across Wukong’s massive palm, trembling weakly from the aftershocks of so much laughter and wheezing.

“Alright, alright,” Wukong chuckles, righting his disoriented rival with a single finger, propping him up. “C’mere, ya big baby!” He gives Macaque’s back a few gentle flicks, hoping that it would shock his shaken system back to normal. “Easy, bud… hey, hey… deep breathes, okay?”

“Hnnng… ahhh… huff… huff… Wu- Wukong! You- I-“

“I know, I know. You’ll “get your vengeance”, the king mockingly says, pitching his newly booming voice similar to his rival’s. “I know ya will, bud. Just settle down for right now and breathe.”

“…hmph. You’re the worst,” Macaque huffs, resting his chin against a ridge on Wukong’s palm with an exhausted pout. “Watch your back, you big ape.”

“I will, bud,” he lightly returns, bringing his rival up for a warm nuzzle, much to the latter’s embarrassment. “I’ll keep an eye out for the big, scary, Six-Eared Macaque.” Another few minutes pass with Wukong coddling the sable simian to his cheek, sharing a soothing warmth to help settle Macaque's nerves.

He pulls away slowly, regarding his fellow monkey with kind eyes.

Carefully, he rolls the umbrakinetic onto his well-tickled stomach in spite of angry protests, then starts to run a large thumb down the black-furred back. Macaque immediately relaxes, nearly purring at the pleasant sensation.

The Monkey King knew he would certainly have the favor repaid shortly thereafter, not even a full week having passed… but for right now?

Wukong would hold Macaque tight, close his eyes… and relish the closeness of his “little brother”, just like he did centuries ago.

“…I missed you, bud.”

“…yeah,” sighs Macaque, still laying on his belly and trying to keep his tail from wagging. “I know.”

“…and I missed you too.”

[ghastigiggles]

danse macabre

so uh. uhm. hi. i kept forgetting to post this and i feel really bad about it. i'm so sorry tadc nation here's some food for you

npc oc because i didnt feel comfortable writing anyone as a ler - not yet, anyway. but pomni needed to get wrecked so bad. she's so cute. i get cuteness aggression every time she's on screen

usual disclaimer; sfw tickling fic, very soft and fluffy, even a little goofy and silly.

"Given that our last adventure took an exciting turn, I thought doing a rerun would be a better idea today!"

A rippling groan passed through the veteran players that Caine seemed to entirely ignore, turning his attention to Pomni with an exaggerated movement.

"Something a little more calm, I'd say! Should help bring you down from any thoughts of the Void from the other day!"

"Ahh… I don't –"

"You'll love it," He interrupted, swooping back into the air with an extravagant gesture; "It's a fan favourite! Everyone knows it, everyone loves it, it's… 'Where in the World is Sir Wigglesburg?'!"

Pomni, of course, didn't miss the way everyone else in the room tensed up – though she didn't catch the way Gangle actually perked instead, immediately shooting sideways glances at everyone else before poorly mirroring their tension. 

"... You're kiddin'," Jax muttered, his eyes narrowing in annoyance. Caine simply continued as though he didn't hear the rabbit while Bubble floated nearby with an empty look in her eyes.

"Sir Wigglesburg is one of our most esteemed citizens –"

"Not an actual player," Ragatha helpfully cut in with a glance to Pomni, trying to give her context.

" – with a terrible habit of wandering off! His dear wife has, once again, asked us – rather, you – to lend a helping hand and bring him home safe! The first to lead Sir Wigglesburg back to the stage shall win a prize! (To be determined, prize may or may not meet or exceed expectations.) Good luck!"

And, with no further context or instruction, their ringmaster and his companion entirely disappeared. There was a brief silence before Zooble grunted, already walking away.

"... Right. I'm going back to my room, then."

"Aww, somebody too chicken to help the poor guy?"

Jax sneered in their direction, and they shot him a searing glare; "Well, if you want a repeat of last time, be my guest. I don't."

"I will also take my leave," Kinger muttered in a hurried fashion, looking askance; "The last time we did this, it was before… Mngh…"

Ragatha offered him a sympathetic smile, nodding as the other two softened just slightly. 

"It's alright, Kinger. We understand."

"Thank you… If you do take on the quest, give Sir my best." 

With that, both Zooble and Kinger headed towards the living quarters, leaving Pomni to finally pipe up again, looking between Ragatha and Jax.

"... So, um… W-what's so upsetting about the rerun, anyway? Is it, um, bad…?"

"Oh – no, not – not per se," The ragdoll replied quickly, tapping her chin; "I mean, Caine wasn't lying… This is one of the calmer adventures."

"Yeah. You should do it, newbie."

Both sets of eyes snapped to Jax, who simply grinned passively. Ragatha squinted.

"... And I don't suppose you'd be coming along?"

"I will, actually. Could be funny. What about you, Rags?"

Though she grimaced, Ragatha sighed in resignation, turning a little to give Pomni a small smile.

"Well, I'm not gonna let her go it alone… Again."

That much, at least, gave Pomni heart, and she almost smiled back – until she realized one of their party wasn't accounted for, and her brow furrowed.

"Uh… Where's Gangle?"

The other two also seemed to only just notice Gangle's absence, and the three of them glanced around briefly before their search was cut short by a distant shriek from the player in question.

"That sounded like her…!"

"Is she getting hurt?! W-what if someone else abstracted?!" Pomni shot them a panicked glance; "Sh-should we –"

"Let's go investigate before anything else," Jax interrupted calmly, barely keeping the amusement from his face as he gestured for Pomni to take the lead. When Ragatha shot him a glare, he simply shrugged, following after her with the ragdoll shortly behind.

They had little more than a vague direction, down a corridor and two left turns that seemed to dim the further along they went; Gangle made no further sounds, giving them little in the way of direction, and eventually Pomni sighed haplessly, squinting into the darkness.

"... It's no use… Should – should we go find Caine again…?"

She was met with silence, and turned around – only to find Ragatha and Jax were nowhere to be seen, and her stomach dropped with dread.

"... Guys…?"

"Ooh? Who is this…? A face I've yet to see and greet?"

At a new voice, Pomni yelped, whipping around – and coming face-to-face with what appeared to be some kind of massive, cartoonish caterpillar. His body appeared to be covered in green fur, disappearing into the darkness past his neck – or so Pomni assumed at first glance, anyway. His face and what could only be described as underbelly were covered in white fur that parted around his features, such as a long purple nose and big black eyes – one of which sported a golden monocle. And, of course, his hands had the same cartoon glove sort of thing that Kinger had going on, though this time with black noodle arms seemingly attached.

In her shock, she entirely lost her voice, merely stammering wordlessly – and earning a chuckle from the caterpillar looming over her. 

"Such a small thing, you are! 'Tis a pleasure, indeed!" 

Smiling, he extended one of his hands for a shake, a gesture that finally managed to pull Pomni from her stupor.

"I am Sir Wigglesburg! And you, my gentile jester, would be…?"

"A-ahhh…" Though hesitant, she extended her own hand, despite it being barely half the size of his own, "P-Pomni – woah –!"

The moment their palms yet, Wigglesburg pulled her closer, twirling her around so suddenly that her eyes spun in alternating directions – and as she was steadied again, pulled along by his sudden movements, she was abruptly made aware of his overwhelming amount of hands, with a second dominant one taking her free hand to hold her steady while two more settled on her back and hip, respectively.

"Pomni, Pomni! A wondrously adorable and charming name! Please, indulge me with a dance – 'tis a formal greeting between my people!"

"I – I'm actually – ah!"

The hand on her hip pinched her side unexpectedly, making her jerk in an attempt to escape – yet Wigglesburg easily moved with her reflexive maneuver like it was a step in her dance.  

"I'm actually – ehh! – l-looking for s – hey! – some – sohome –"

The hand squeezed again, and again, and again; and every time, she tried to sidestep or wiggle away – and every time, it just encouraged their "dance", with Wigglesburg's gentle but firm grip keeping her upright despite the giggles bubbling in her chest and the involuntary smile that had been pulling at her lips. 

"My dear Pomni," Wigglesburg crooned as though she wasn't struggling to articulate a sentence; "You are a wonderful dancer!"

" – Ghhh, thank you…? But I – ah!! – would you plehease –"

She squeaked again as she was suddenly pulled into a dip, very nearly panicking before she realized Wigglesburg was still supporting her gently. His wide smile was kind and sweet, but undercut by the mischief in his eyes as he looked down at her.

"... That said, you are giggling quite a lot! I didn't think dancing with a wyrm would be that much fun for you!"

"I-It's not the dancing – GyaAH –"

"Is it not?" 

Pomni couldn't manage a reply, stuck in a fit of uncontrollable giggles caused by the fingers wiggling at both sides, forcing her to squirm back and forth with no true escape from the unexpected and overwhelming sensation. Wigglesburg hummed, tilting his head with an adoring expression.

"I say, I was under the impression that it was the jester who caused nobles to laugh, not the other way around! Yet, here you are, practically beside yourself…"

For a mercy, he did release her hands, and she immediately brought her arms in – not that they did much, proportionately, to protect her. 

"Aheheh, I can't – I cahahan't –"

"Oh, my poor dear, does it tickle? Are we feeling a little sensitive?"

She hiccuped through her laughter at that, shaking her head and ducking down; it felt like the teasing sent a shot through her nerves, which only made it worse when he started scratching experimentally at her ribs, prompting a few snorts to escape her as well.

"Ngh – nahahaa, not th - thehehere…!"

"What? Here? Or here – oh, dear me."

His hands shot to Pomni's underarms for just a few seconds, but it was enough to prompt a shriek from her, wriggling and kicking fruitlessly with even more vigour than before.

"NnnoOHOHO – gh – $%^@# – I cahAAHAAN'T –!"

"Yes, I can see that! 'Twould seem that 'tis an especially sensitive spot."

"Plhehe – PLEHEEHEEHEASE!"

She threw back her head with a loud cackle as Wigglesburg doubled down, every stroke of his fingers sending shocks down her arms and through her body – but she only had to endure it a moment longer before he finally laid off, lightly massaging her sides with his thumbs as she gasped for breath – an act that was more instinctual than actually necessary, given that breathing wasn't really a thing anymore – with a goofy, natural smile still stuck on her face.

"I do hope you can forgive my zeal in tormenting you," Wigglesburg offered after a moment, smiling apologetically; "I cannot help myself around the players."

"I – it's… Haah…" With a final breath, Pomni shook out the residual giggles, looking back up at Wigglesburg; "It's alright…"

"Oh, I figured! You never once asked me to stop, after all."

She stiffened at that, her eyes widening as she searched her memory – because, surely not… And yet, he was right.

She had no idea if the digital avatar could blush, but with how hot her face felt upon that realization, she really, really hoped it couldn't.

"But enough of that – you were searching for someone, yes?"

"Uh! Um. Y-yeah. You, actually, but also – Gangle, if you've seen her…"

"Oh! My dear Gangle has been here all along!"

Pomni blinked dumbly, and Wigglesburg chuckled, curling in on himself and cradling her close as his spine arched up to where she could see clearly – and, sure enough, Gangle was splayed out in the wyrm's green fur, seeming a little sleepy and out of it… Yet, content, even as she looked up and waved at Pomni.

"But… Her scream…"

"'Twas a scream of joy and laughter," Wigglesburg assured her; "Gangle is one of my favorite dancing partners – and I, hers! I admit, I went overboard this time, though… It has been too long since the last time."

"Oh."

A lot of things made sense, now. The way everyone had seemed tense and awkward when Wigglesburg's name came up; Gangle's quiet disappearance in the wake of the adventure's start. The little comments everyone was making towards each other… 

"Pomni! Are you alright?!"

Ragatha's voice pulled Pomni from her thoughts, and she looked down to see the ragdoll standing below, looking up with faint relief… And heavy amusement. Shortly behind her stood Jax, smug as ever – yet, notably, keeping a good generous distance between himself and the wyrm.

"Uh. Yeah," Pomni replied; "I found Gangle? And… And Sir Wigglesburg."

"We know. We heard you," Jax chuckled, easily side-stepping to avoid a tiny kick from Ragatha. For her part, the doll smiled.

"That's great! Let's head back to the stage and wrap up this adventure, then!"

Sir Wigglesburg, however, pouted a little, looking down at her.

"Oh, are you sure I can't convince you to share just one dance with me…?"

"Ahh… Maybe next time?"

Ragatha offered him a nervous smile, and Wigglesburg sighed dramatically – but he didn't object, simply setting Pomni on his back near Gangle before he began to crawl along on the path back to the stage. Distantly, Jax grumbled about not being offered a ride as he and Ragatha followed on foot.

In the softness of his fur, Pomni felt a tempting urge to "nod off", partially encouraged by the dance she'd just been through – but Gangle's voice, just barely loud enough to be heard – kept her in the waking world.

"... I'm glad you like his game. I've been the only one for awhile… Knowing someone else likes it makes me feel less weird."

And, with a small nod in response, Pomni hid her smile in the wyrm's fur.

Maybe not every part of the digital circus was terrible or terrifying.

[gaybananabread]

Hey! For Tickletober, can I get day 27 with lee!MK from Lego Monkie Kid?

I’m not sure what season you’re up to, but there’s a reason for why I picked that day lol.

TickleTober Day 27 - Non-Human Parts

~Okay so I JUST finished season 5 when I started writing this, and AUAHIDFUHAISD- I am not okay. Macaque and Wukong were so paternal in this, and that’s not even getting to Pigsy! I love this show so much it’s UNREAL! I went with the two monkey dads because monkey madness. Thank you for requesting, and I hope you Enjoy! Happy spooky month!~

Lee: Mk

Lers: Wukong and Macaque

Summary: Mk gets frustrated during training, his new powers proving to be quite difficult to get used to. Luckily, he has two monkey mentors to aid him. When he gets tired and gives up for the day, they have a rather fun way to help him relax.

Warnings: spoilers for Lego Monkie Kid! This is a tickle fic, so if you don’t like that, scroll away!!

“C’mon, kid! Just take a breath and center yourself.” Wukong balanced on his tail in front of Mk, watching as the boy fell once again.

“What Wukong is trying to say is that you need to balance.” Macaque’s snide voice cut in as he sauntered over, getting into the same position as Monkie King. “Your tail is a part of you, just like your arms and legs. You have to feel your center and hold yourself there.”

“I don’t see how tricks are gonna help me get used to this.” Mk gestured down at himself, specifically his tail. Ever since they’d “freed” the Nine-Headed Demon, the team had been lovingly forcing Mk to confront his Monkie side and learn about his powers.

That also meant bodily exercises, such as the one they were focusing on at that moment.

“It helps you understand your new form, bud. Before you can master your powers or anything else, you have to know your body.” Wukong tried to sound patient, but he was really getting tired of explaining the same thing over and over again.

He was endlessly happy, of course, that Mk was alright, but they didn’t know when the next big-bad whatever was coming. His monkie form needed to be mastered, or at least understood, before that happened.

“Fine, fine. I’ll try again.” Mk sighed before leaning on his hands, planting his tail beneath him. It still felt so strange to have muscles there – to have something to move. Pushing himself up, he felt his tail strain with his body’s weight.

“There ya go, kid. Just breathe and stay centered.” The black monkey’s tone was calming then, urging him to stay focused and grounded. It was nice, even if he was annoyed by the entire exercise.

Mk managed to stay balanced for a solid thirty seconds. His mind wandered as he sat there, the thoughts he’d oh-so carefully compartmentalized trying to fall off their shelves. The scarily calm look the Nine-Headed Demon had given him…

”You just opened the cage."

Mk gasped, his eyes flying open as he fell backwards. Macaque’s tail was there in a second, cradling his head before it could hit the ground.

“Hey, new record, bud!” Wukong did his best to sound supportive, but his impatience leaked into the reassurance. They’d been at it for the better half of two hours by then.

“What happened?” Macaque used his tail to sit Mk up, patting his shoulder supportively. Macaque had been unusually caring and touchy since his sacrifice; it wasn’t bad at all, but it was unexpected.

“I just…can’t keep my mind straight. It keeps going places I don’t wanna visit.” Mk sighed, sitting fully on the ground as his tail flicked. It showed his agitation, and it was too new for Mk to suppress it.

“Bud…” Wukong tried to gather his own thoughts, not knowing how to respond to that. He didn’t want to tell the kid to push them aside; that wasn’t healthy. Then again, how else was he gonna advise him? “Wanna…talk about it?”

“Not really. It’s the same stuff that’s been bothering me. Snake guy, the chaos, all that goodness.” Mk chuckled dryly, trying to play off his dread with humor. It usually worked, though he could still feel the uncertainty within him.

“Want us to distract you?” Macaque didn’t meet either of their eyes when he asked this, staring off into the horizon. The corner of his lip twitched, giving away a hidden amusement.

“I…guess so, yeah. Is it gonna hurt?” The monkie boy quirked a brow suspiciously, not liking how vague that was. What did he mean by “distract”?

“No, not hurt. If you want us to stop, just say so, and we will.” Macaque shot Wukong a look, hoping he’d get the tacit message. The orange-furred monkey blushed when he got it, a surprised huff leaving him. He hadn’t expected a solution like that from Mac, but…it’d work.

“Okay…” Mk nodded, a slightly anxious feeling rising in his chest when he saw the look they shared. It wasn’t bad, more…giddy. “Why’re you looking at him like that? Monkey King?”

Monkie King’s tail wrapped around Mk’s middle, tugging the boy into his chest. Two strong arms hooked under his own, keeping him restrained. “H-hey! Lemme go!”

“No can do, kid. You’ve at least gotta let me start before you run.” Macaque grinned as he plopped down in front of the two, his tail curling amusedly behind him. His expression was soft and affectionate as he reached out, giving Mk’s stomach a little poke.

The boy’s eyes widened with realization, a giddy smile immediately blooming on his face. “Wahait! G-guys, c’mon! We need to be training!”

“Ooooh, now you care about training?” Wukong’s tail came up to brush against Mk’s monkey ear, making him squeak. “Too late for that, bud.”

“If you actually want us to stop, just say…hmm. What’s a good word, Wukong?” Macaque spoke smugly, lazily tickling the boy’s stomach. He was already giggling up a storm, the silliness of the position he was in making him way too giddy.

“How about ‘peaches,’ eh?” He wiggled his eyebrows at Macaque, knowing the word would annoy him. The darker-furred monkey rolled his eyes, deciding to deal with it later. “Fine. Say peaches, and we stop."

Mk thought of saying it immediately, but…well, he was kind of enjoying the touch, and it was helping to distract him from his thoughts. He could wait a few minutes…

“Knew it. Just one more thing the kid’s got in common with you, Wukong.” Macaque teased, practically purring the words as he looked up at the Monkie King.

Said king scoffed indignantly, grateful for the fur helping to hide his blush. “Hey, pick on the kid, not me! He’s the sad one!”

“Debatable, but…fine.” Macaque grinned as he focused back in on Mk, adding a second hand into the mix. He was still leisurely tracing across his chest, mapping out his worst spots before really trying anything.

Meanwhile, Wukong’s tail continued to tease the shells of Mk’s monkie ears, watching him squirm and squeak.

“M-Mahahacahaque! Mohohonkie Kihihing!” Mk kicked and squirmed in Wukong’s grip, his tail twitching and flicking against the other monkey’s chest. He could not stay still while he was being tickled.

“Yes?” Both monkeys spoke at once, though Wukong’s voice was a lot more teasing than Macaque’s. The two’s different energies somehow made it the more flustering, making Mk’s face burn.

“I-ihihit tihihihickles!”

That made both monkeys’ hearts squeeze, paternal hearts practically sparkling in Wukong’s eyes. How could one kid be so adorable?

Macaque was the first to recover from the psychic attack, chuckling fondly as he continued to tickle him. He’d explored enough to map the kid’s spots. “Hey, Wukong? Try getting the base of his tail.”

“Uh…oh! On it.” Wukong snapped out of it, a big grin settling on his face as he went for it. He had to release one of Mk’s arms to do it, but the boy was too distracted to really make use of that. When the king’s fingers scribbled on that little spot near the bottom of his spine, he lost it.

“GYAHAHAHA! M-MOHONKIE KIHIHING! NAHAHAHO!” Mk flapped his free hand as his worst spot was targeted, nearly kicking Macaque in the face. His back was already ticklish before he’d had tail nerves. After, though? It was so much worse.

“Woah- careful, kid!” Macaque laughed as he dodged the boy’s shoe, shoving it back down. He was so squirmy… Cute kid. “Wouldn’t want me to get mad, would ya? It gets worse when I’m mad.”

“Wow, you’re mean, Mac,” Wukong mused, giving the boy a breather as he dragged a claw up his spine. The little squeals that motion received made his grin widen somehow, splitting his face. “Thought you’d take it easy on the poor kid.”

“That’s your job. I’m not soft,” Macaque huffed, taking his slight annoyance out on Mk. The hand on his stomach narrowed in, going for his navel. Mk shrieked, kicking about once again.

“F-FIHIHIGHT LAHAHATER!” Mk’s pleas fell on deaf ears, the two monkey men distracted by their playful argument.

“Oh really? How come you sleep with the baby monkeys then?” Wukong’s voice was smug, knowing he had the other monkey pinned.

“I- that’s different!” Mac growled, his tail flicking in exasperation. The king was always a tease, but he wasn’t wrong. Macaque hated it when he was right.

“Doesn’t seem like it…”

“Ugh, just focus on the kid.” Macaque gave up, knowing he wasn’t going to get anywhere with Mk between them. Besides, he wasn’t quite done with the boy.

“Ohohor dohohon’t! Bohoth wohohork!” Mk tried to shove Macaque’s hands away, but the dark-furred monkey easily pushed past the resistance. One spot he hadn’t tried yet…

“H-hehehehey!” Mk nearly whined when he felt the tickles move to his shoulders, fighting the immediate urge to melt into them. Stupid shoulders and their stupid calming sensitivity…

“Aww, you found his favorite spot!” Wukong was wholly unhelpful, only egging Macaque on. He could tell the kid was getting tired, so he followed the curve of the mood, softening his touch. He kept toying with the boy's ears, but less persistently.

“N-Nuhuhuh-uhuh!” Mk’s denial was totally mature as he slowly stopped struggling, his giggles growing softer and more relaxed.

“So convincing, Mk.” Macaque chuckled at the sight of him, leaning closer as his legs stopped flailing. He seemed almost sleepy… Maybe they hadn’t even needed a safeword.

“You gettin’ tired, bud?” Wukong smiled as his mentee’s back pressed against his chest, the top of Mk’s hair tickling his chin. The barely coherent response of mumbled giggles was incredibly convincing.

“I’ll take that as a yes.” With a quick look to Macaque, both monkey men stopped their “attacks” in favor of cuddling up next to him. While monkey piles weren’t common among them any more, the pair still loved them. By the sound of his happy sigh, Mk did, too.

“We’ll work on the training later, bud. Get some rest.” Wukong leaned back on a stump, grateful he’d sat down so close to one. Mk was lying back on his chest, with Macaque on the boy’s stomach.

“Listen to the goof, kid. It’ll make things easier.” Macaque smirked, laughing at the immediate hair-ruffle his words received. Wukong was predictable, but it was a nice, reliable kind of predictable.

“Mmph, fine…” Mk tried to sound stubborn, but he was already falling asleep.

Sandwiched between his two monkey mentors, Mk let his mind wander. For once, it was kind to him, sluggishly bringing up fond memories with his team. He drifted off with a smile on his face, remembering just how lucky he was to have met them all.

[tickletails]

robot arm malfunction

[pleasantickles]

The anatomy is pretty wonky, but I thought it was cute anyways.

Here ya go!

[helleboretks]

Start with the Sides: Wukong's Demise

Yo yo yo wassup! If you haven't noticed already, me and @justalilgiddybibs decided to do a spur of the moment fic collab series because why the fuck not I guess XD-

I never actually expected for it to get to this point but I have absolutely no regrets!!! Xey're really fun to talk to and I highly suggest checking out the blog made by hem!

Getting right into it, this is a Lee!Wukong, Lers!MK and Nezha SFW Tickle fic! If this is not your forte, no need to read! This is also a part II to Hah! Got 'Em!!!

Summary: After yesterday's antics, MK is left with a slight ler mood. Wrecking the resident Third Lotus Prince again would be cruel- but what about teaching him how to wreck others?

MK was bored. Really bored.

Nothing had really stirred his usual boundless amounts of energy; Mei wasn’t here to play a good round or twenty of Monkey Mech, and Redson was home brooding and inventing like he always did, so MK didn’t have immediate company to keep him active. It was starting to build up on him, especially after yesterday’s sugar rush-like energy.

Speaking of yesterday, the entire event had left him itching to do it again, constantly tapping and wiggling his fingers. Funny how that happens, but he doesn’t really have anyone he can just unleash it on. And even with Nezha here, the guy had only just found out what tickling was, he wasn’t going to go that far. He needed some other way to release all this energy…

 Wait a minute.

“Pssst- Hey Nezha!” The Lotus Prince looked up from his bowl of noodles he was just finishing, attention caught.

“Yes? What is it?” MK smiled as Nezha responded, already feeling a deviousness in his grin. “So uh, I was thinking about yesterday, and-”

“MK, I swear to the Buddha above himself-“

“No no no, I’m not gonna tickle you again, don’t worry!” MK laughed, finding it silly the way Nezha relaxed after having tensed so quickly in embarrassment at the recollections of yesterday.

“Actually, I was thinking…” MK glanced over at his mentor, Wukong, who seemed thoroughly lost in thought while fiddling with the chopsticks Tang had idly handed him. He seemed as if the world was completely empty save for whatever thoughts were manifesting in his head.

“Monkey King was the one who started it, right? So, how about I teach you the art of tickling people, and we use him for example?” Nezha looked at MK skeptically for a moment, then over at Wukong. A rare smile formed on his face, and it was at times like these that he remembered that Nezha too, had a mischievous streak, spanning many centuries longer than MK’s.

“You’re sure he’ll be okay with that?” He asked, still slightly hesitant.

Macaque, who overheard the conversation (having six ears is really helpful for eavesdropping, huh?), leaned in and whispered into Nezha’s ear, ignoring for the time being the fact that the poor prince tensed up at it.

“I’m gonna be honest for once, princey, but he really enjoys it. It’s basically his way of saying that he trusts you a lot. He was probably hoping to be tickled in return yesterday, but was kinda let down when he realized you didn’t have a clue what the fuck it is. You didn’t hear it from me though, in case he asks.”

Nezha chuckled lightly at Macaque’s slyness, and MK took a moment to shuffle through every memory he had of tickling the daylights out of the Monkey King before all of this. Sure, he didn’t get to tickle him nearly as much as Wukong would to him, but knowing that bit of information now…

MK had never felt so honored before.

“Alright then. MK, how do I do this?” Nezha easily relented.

“One second.” MK said, getting off his stool and walking over to Wukong, who didn’t seem to have the slightest idea what was going on, given how spaced out he was. MK snuck up beside him and, with little hesitance, promptly picked him up from under the arms. Wukong shrieked in surprise.

“AAHHHH!! Holy shit Mk-what the fuck?!”

“You’ll see soon enough, Monkey King! Hey Nezha, follow me!” The Lotus Prince cleaned up his bowl and chopsticks, setting them aside and handing them off to Pigsy, who almost smiled. It’s always nice to see another person who appreciates home-cooked meals. After the run-in with Speedy Panda…ugh.

Nezha followed the sound of Wukong’s struggling, and found the two upstairs in MK’s apartment on the floor beside the bed. The young hero had Wukong’s arms pinned under his knees, and at this point he had stopped struggling and laid on the floor, mumbling something about his hands going numb. MK paid no attention to it. “Alrighty then, Nezha! Your first lesson in how to tickle people and get the best reactions commences now!”

“SAY WHAT NOW?!” Wukong’s eyes shot wide open at the statement.

“Oh, you’ll live, Monkey King! Besides, you’ve been wanting this, haven’t you?”

“Sh-shut up, kid! Now you’re just lying!” Wukong whined. MK only giggled at the half-hearted denial from his mentor.

“Alright, alright, shut up now! LESSON ONE!!!” MK shouted dramatically over top Wukong’s whining. “You gotta know all the techniques and where someone’s super ticklish! So, word of advice, if you wanna find out if someone’s ticklish, always start with the sides!”

And then to demonstrate, MK immediately started pinching at Wukong’s sides, causing the poor Sage to yelp and flinch every which way away from the fingers, not like it helped given that Mk had him pinned down, but it was a…valiant effort. Sort of.

“The sides are like, the most commonly ticklish area for anybody and everybody, so it’s always a safe bet to start there first! Ya feel me?” Nezha snorted slightly at the choice of words, but nodded and resolutely ignored the giggled whining and complaining of one Great Sage Equal to Heaven.

“Cool, cool, cool-WUKONG QUITE MOVING YA LITTLE-” You can’t blame the Lotus Prince for jolting at the sudden raise in MK’s voice, although given how playful his tone was and the stupid grin on his face, he wasn’t taking any of this too seriously at all.

Meanwhile, Wukong himself was giggling up a storm, squirming like his immortal life depended on it as he kicked his feet and slapped his tail to the ground.

“Stohohop pihihinching me thehehen! Kihihihid!!” Wukong responded back.

“Nuh uh, I gotta teach Nezha about the techniques, man. Think of the techniques!!”

Oh yeah, now MK was doing this mostly to mess with him.

Not like Nezha’s complaining though…

“Okay! So you see how I’m pinching him, right?” MK asked, turning his head to Nezha and ever so confident that taking his eyes off Wukong won’t change a thing.

“Yes?” Nezha responded, scooting closer and watching the motions with rapt attention.

And no, he would not admit how that made his own cheeks flush, or how it made butterflies flutter in his stomach.

“Is there anything special about it, MK?”

“Oh why yes there is, my dear Nezha.” Said ‘Dear Nezha’ gave him a questioning look. “You sound like one of those preachers from another religion-”

“SsshHHHshhhh shush shush shush, and let me speak my gospel-” MK wheezed in amusement, letting up on his hasty pinches and giving Wukong reprieve.

“So, you gotta make sure that you don’t pinch too hard, yeah? If you do, it’ll just hurt, and that’s not fun for anyone. So! You’ll wanna make sure that it’s quick and light, not enough to hurt, but enough to be felt.” He explained, going as far as to give a slow demonstration to what he was explaining.

Wukong’s breath hitched repeatedly as he bit down stray chuckles, burying his face into his shoulder, probably to silently deny just how embarrassing this must be for him.

“Oooh, I see, I see.” Nezha added verbally with a smile, a hint of pride welling up at noticing Wukong shrinking in on himself more at that.

“Would you like to give it a try?”

Nezha glanced up at MK, and simply smiled.

As MK moved his hands away, Wukong immediately renewed his struggling. “AH AH AH-WAIT! NO, I didn’t agree to this, this is non consensual!! HELP ME!!!” Wukong practically screamed, causing both Nezha and Mk to laugh at his embarrassed misery.

“No one’s here to save you, Monkey King! Now just be a good monkey and sit there so I can teach Nezha the wondrous ways of tickling.” MK spoke with faux somberness in his tone, patting the monkey on the head as Wukong wriggled around.

Now, Here’s the thing.

Nezha is reflexively fast. He has to be, he always has been. It’s what comes with being a guard.

Implementing that into a more harmless pinching motion was honestly pretty easy.

He did not, however, account for Wukong’s reaction.

The monkey let out a shriek at Nezha’s quick jabbing, his feet dragging frantically against the floor as he jolted and yelped at every quick little jab.

“My goodness, Nezha you’re quick with that shit, this is amazing actually hold on-” MK commented, and Nezha honestly couldn’t help the little chuckle that escaped him if he wanted.

Because this was fun. Doing this quick little pinches up and down Wukong’s sides, watching him squirm like that so helplessly, giggling feverishly all throughout, it was funny to watch, and fun to do.

Yeah, he could absolutely see the appeal in it.

“Oh oh oh! Lemme show you something!” MK said, deciding not to stop Nezha from having his fun as he then went to skim his fingers along Wukong’s ribs, causing Wukong’s pitch to heighten and his laughter to grow louder.

“It’s funnier when you have more than one person involved in the tickling, but besides that, Wukong’s got some pretty sensitive ribs, so there’s this really funny game you can make out of it!” MK explained, catching Nezha’s attention as he started scritching all along Wukong’s ribs.

Wukong choked on a laugh, throwing his head back and shaking his head a few times as MK went on to explain and demonstrate. “So, we’re basically going to be ‘counting’ if he’s got all his ribs in place. Cause like, ya never know with this one right here-” The Monkie Kid said with a light roll of his eyes.

“Nezha, I’d humbly request you to tell me-how many ribs do we normally have?” MK asked, putting a dramatic tone into his voice that had Nezha scoffing. “Twenty four, MK. We have twenty four.” He answered dutifully.

“Well, are we sure that Wukong has all twenty four? I mean, for all we know, he could have lost some in all his battles or something! Oh, you poor, poor monkey, I’ll help you, don’t worry Monkey King!” MK wiped a fake tear just to emphasize, which only caused Wukong to hiccup with laughter.

“So I found one, y’know! And here’s two, and we got three over here-” Nezha himself flushed a great shade of red as he watched the way MK dug into Wukong’s ribs like no tomorrow, the theatrics he put up were almost as impressive as Macaque’s, because Wukong was really starting to laugh up a storm right now.

“NAHahAHaha! StAHAP- MK!! AHAHAHAHA, PLehEHEhease!” Wukong has already resorted to pleading, and they weren’t even ten minutes into this, barely even five.

Yeah, okay, MK was scarily good at this.

But also…Mei…

Nezha shivered to himself.

“Ooooh maaah gaaawd-Monkey King stop moving or else I can’t count all your ribs! It’s like you’re- AUDIBLE GASP!! ARE YOU HIDING SOMETHING FROM ME!?” MK yelled out, throwing his head back to give Wukong some serious side eye.

Wukong, for all he tried, shook his head hastily, his nose all scrunched up as his blush only deepened from what could practically be described as torture from his successor.

Maybe not actual torture, but it sure looked like it!

“I think you’re hiding something from me and I WILL GET IT!! AAAAAAAAAAH-” Now even Nezha couldn’t help but dissolve into laughter as Mk let out a battlecry- a battlecry of all things!- digging into Wukong’s ribs and making the monkey go ballistic with the ticklish sensation.

“KIHIHIHID!! FAHAHAHAHA- STAHA- STAHAHAHAP! I CAHAHAN’T-AAAAAHAHA-!” Wukong cried out desperately, and for a second, Nezha was worried that he really couldn’t take it.

But when he actually looked up at MK and Wukong, he took notice of something.

As much as MK was joking around beyond multiple extremes, he seemed to be..paying rapt attention to Wukong, as if there would be a sign of some sort that would tell him if… Wukong’s had enough.

‘Ah.’ Nezha thought. ‘They probably do have a sign.’

That attention to detail, that level of care despite this tomfoolery…it was sweet. He wouldn’t deny it. It was really sweet.

(No, he doesn’t want that kind of attention, though! I-it’s just a sweet thing to take note of, okay? He’s not- like, craving that or anything!)

“By the Gods, you might actually kill him.” Nezha couldn’t help but mutter, surprised and unsurprised that MK ended up hearing that despite Wukong’s frantically loud laughter.

“Oh my gods, can you kill an immortal by tickling? I mean like, you can die by it-”

“Excuse me?”

“But I never considered the possibility.”

MK finally slowed down his downright malicious ministrations, and Wukong practically choked on the air he greedily inhaled as he caught his breath. But now the boy was really thinking about it- like, hand to his chin in deep, otherworldly thought kind of thinking.

“Let’s not test that out now, MK. You’re teaching me, not trying to kill a god.” Nezha said with a light hearted chuckle.

“Yeheheah! Yeah-kid, plehehease no, don’t do thahat.” Wukong nodded fervently, clearly filled with nervousness as MK practically stared into his soul.

“...Nezha. I must bestow some very important information onto you.” MK muttered, clearly trying to make this sound very, very important and serious. And as much as Nezha would probably never be able to know if tickling could turn into that kind of serious, he at least knew that it perhaps was important.

So, for fun’s sake, he played along.

“Yes, MK? Whatever piece of information will you bestow upon me that requires such an important incline in your tone?” MK almost broke character, taking a minute not to laugh at the longer than necessary sentence.

“There are certain places on the body that are very sensitive, Nezha. Of course, that’s a given, the nerves in our bodies do flippity things to cause stimuli because biology says so.” MK says with a dismissive hand wave.

“But there are some parts of the body that are so sensitive that it’s actually a little concerning.” Nezha noticed from his peripheral the way Wukong practically froze with tension, coming to a conclusion very rapidly.

“Kid! Hey, nO! None of that!” Wukong complained, but Mk just playfully shoved his forehead and continued talking all business-like.

Nezha struggled so hard to take this seriously, but he nodded along just fine.

“These particular spots are what we like to call, Death Spots.” MK finally said, jolting a little as Wukong struggled underneath him. “MK! MK SHUT UP RIGHT NOW-!!”

“HUSH, MONKEY KING, I’M MAKING HISTORY HERE!!! LET ME WORK MY MAGIC!” MK shouted right back, before quickly jabbing Wukong in the hips, the sage letting out a stray squeal that quite frankly made Nezha himself chuckle a little bit.

“Now, let me tell you about Monkey King’s Death Spots-”

And let Nezha tell you the way MK yelped as he got kneed in the damn back.

Nezha himself jolted backwards as MK whipped his head over to Wukong in alarm, who had an expression that very clearly read ‘oh shit’ all over it.

There was a long, suffering silence.

“You did not just hit me.”

“MK- kid-”

“Monkey King. Wukong. Great Sage Equal to goddamn Heaven, tell me you did not just hit me.”

Nezha slid away. Just a bit. You know. To save himself.

“Kid please I’m sorry-”

“Lesson two, Nezha. Lesson two.” The Lotus Prince almost flinched himself at the maniacal grin on MK’s face. “And this one is specifically tailored to god damn, motherfuckin’ Wukong.”

“MK have mercy on me please-”

“If this bitch deserves it, show no fucking mercy.”

And then MK proceeded to strike two places at once.

Wukong let out the loudest damn scream that Nezha has ever heard-and probably will ever hear-out of his mouth in centuries as MK started nibbling away at his neck, and scribbling into his belly remorselessly.

Nezha himself yelped, face turning pink in pure second hand in embarrassment as Wukong screamed and shrieked and laughed like his life depended on it. The monkey thrashed, writhed and squirmed as much as he could, but MK held steadfast, nibbling and ‘nom nom nomming’ away at his neck and scribbling ceaselessly against his belly, on every goddamn side.

“KAHAHAHAHA- PLE- NAHAHAHAHA IHIHIHIHI CAHAHAHA- AAAAAAAAH!! FAAAAAHAHAHAHAHA-!” Wukong couldn’t make one lick of a sentence from all that attention, and it seemed to be driving him up the goddamn wall.

At some point, he was able to free one hand.

That, however, proved to be a mistake.

MK showed no mercy and began drilling into the underarm of his free hand, the sage knocking his head against the ground with just how fast he had flung it back. His legs were kicking furiously, his tail slapping on the ground with a quick thump thump thump like it didn’t know what else to do. And based on how much he was holding back the power he definitely had to throw off his mentee, both of them were clearly having fun.

And Nezha sat there, hands over his face yet peeking through the fingers to watch this… spectacle.

MK, to make matters worse, had the most deadpan expression he could muster, channeling the pure energy of ‘boredom’ into his act like this was another normal Tuesday afternoon.

Oh gods, that was just horrifying.

Horrifyingly funny, yeah, but horrifying nonetheless.

Wukong laughed and laughed until he started hiccuping, and then laughed even more. He barely even seemed to be getting any air, and even if he was immortal and technically didn’t need air, that flush of exertion was telling a whole different story and he seemed beside himself with a heavy case of mush brain.

The butterflies in Nezha’s stomach flapped tenfold and he involuntarily scrunched in on himself, watching with so much attention he very faintly recognizes he should probably not have. But he couldn’t help it! It was in his face, it was in his ears and it was in the way his shoulders hunched up, subconsciously protecting his own neck in the way Wukong most certainly couldn’t copy.

He doesn’t know how long that absolute torture must have gone on for, he doesn’t even know why MK has such freakishly insane lung capacity for this (he’d know from experience that the kid probably wouldn’t have stopped last time if Pigsy hadn’t told him to cut it out.), but finally at some point, Wukong’s laughter had gone on so long that he’d grown hoarse, and he tapped MK’s shoulder three times- like a sign.

MK let up- so that was the stop signal- and eased off Wukong as the poor monkey gasped for relief. Wukong curled in on himself once MK had rolled off of him, giggling nonsensically to himself as he seemed entirely out of this plane of existence alone.

So…Death Spots were really that bad, huh?

Oh Buddha, someone save him.

“See? Sometimes you just gotta show no mercy and give him shit for it.” MK shrugged with a grin, as if he hadn’t actually almost killed the Great Sage himself, via tickling.

Nezha stared in shock-and mild mortification-at this kid.

That… he didn’t even want to know how that must have felt.

“...fuck.” Was all Nezha could mutter.

“...fuck-” MK repeated, cutting himself off to let out a loud wheeze, laughing to himself as he sidled up next to Wukong.

“Monkey King, are you dead? Did you die? Did you lose your immortality-why are your pupils so big???” MK laughed even harder as Nezha took note that yes, Wukong’s pupils did in fact dilate hard.

“Wukong?” Nezha called out, holding in a laugh at how absolutely unresponsive the other was.

But his tail was wagging, so he’ll take that as a good sign.

“Told you he’d enjoy it-”

“AAAAAAAAAAAAAA-!”

MK and Nezha screamed in surprise at the new arrival, and Macaque, who had just entered the room, was smiling in amusement at Wukong like he personally won the lottery.

Now that he had the brain to control his body again, the ghost tickles that hadn’t yet registered now had started coming in, Wukong squirmed quite a bit, clearly still a bit tuckered out. MK patted his mentor on the head, and gently rubbed off the remaining phantom sensations. “Too far?” He asked.

“Wuh- Nah, y-you’re good, kihid.” Wukong assured him.

Nezha held back a squeal at how adorable Wukong looked after the heavy bout of ticklish fever- Because no he was not going to squeal at adorable monkey business he has not sunk that low yet- and then he turned to MK. “So, is everyone that ticklish?”

“Not everyone in the world per se, but if you’re thinking of everyone here? Yeah, I’d say pretty close.”

“I see…”

“So yeah, if you ever want to at least try getting revenge on Mei-”

Oh, oh yeah no, he knows a losing battle when he sees one.

MK, on the other hand…

“No, I’ve got a better idea.” 

Without further warning, He leapt clear over Wukong and instantly pinned MK to the cushiony mattress beside the monkey. “I would like to remind you of what you did to me yesterday- Don’t think you’re getting away scot-free just because you showed me how to destroy that little shit.”

“W-wahait, Nezha-” MK looked around for a means of escape, then called out to Wukong who, despite being absolutely demolished not even a minute ago, seemed to get back some coherence.

“Monkey King! Mohonkey King help me!” Nezha glanced over at Wukong to see what he would do, given his student was pretty much in danger. Wukong, of course, didn't seem to give a rat's ass about MK in that moment.

He proceeded to roll right off the bed, hitting the ground with a “Just like he said, Nezha. Start with the sides.”

Sometimes, Nezha forgets how petty that monkey can be.

Then again, he's not really complaining.

[ghostlee]

I was having so much LMK Lee!Nezha brainrot that I had to draw this lmao. Uh yeah enjoy, sorta just put random context on this but think up whatever story you will with it!

[blahhhhhhhohmigosh]

MAY MK HAVE TELEPORTAION POWERS IN SEASON 5???

CAUSE LIKE YOU SEE, TANG MENTIONS 3 POWERS "cloud walking, flight and TELEPORTATION" AND WUKONG EVEN DID TELEPORT RIGHT THERE, I mean it's obvious to the fandom that Mk will probably have Flight and/or cloud walking powers, BUT I THINK THE FANDOM FORGOT THAT IF WUKONG CAN TELEPORT IT MEANS MK CAN TO!!

SPOILER FOR SEASON 4!

AND WE EVEN SEE MONKEY MK TELEPORT (or it might be fast flight) DOES THAT MEAN HE WILL HAVE TELEPORTAION POWERS IN SEASON 5???

[iamawolfstarsimp]

what's up ya'll

as previously mentioned I saw @fickle-tiction headcanons for a superbat (superman/batman) and yeah, here we are

just a quick side note for everyone to go like/follow/reblog her fics and headcanons they're literally the best ever

3,342 words

hope you enjoy!!

It all started with a quiet knock on his door early one morning.

"Ms. Diana is here, she says she needs to talk to you about a mission the team said was 'tailored to you.'" Alfred said in his usual neutral tone.

Alfred walked into his room with the usual greeting and started opening his curtains to let in some natural light that instantly blinded Bruce for a few moments.

"Just let her in then," Bruce mumbled, too tired to get up just yet.

"Very well." Alfred said and opened up his door to let Diana walk through. She walked in wearing dress pants and some new fitted top (new because Bruce didn't recognize it) while holding a folder in her hands and took a moment to look around the room before thanking Alfred and walking over to Bruce.

"Hey, you." She smiled at his messy hair and sour expression. "How did you sleep?"

"Alright, considering." Bruce answered while trying to blink away any grogginess he had left.

"The team found this undercover mission for you if you're up to it."

"Give it to me, I'll look through it." She handed the folder to him.

He flipped it open to see the location which was some island near the coast of Florida where the host was having all of his guests at his private mansion. They had the targets listed with a list of who they are and what information they needed from them. Then the character he would be playing. He was supposedly going to be called Mark Wilson who attempted to go the military (specifically marine corp) but then won the lottery randomly and left (wow, what a great guy) but then used his money to sponsor random charities and then got famous off of that. He also was recently getting into acting and was apparently starring in a new movie that was to come out next year. But ever since his rise to fame he mostly attends parties, golfs, spends his money, and spends time with his-

"Husband?" Bruce looked up at Diana.

"Yeah, that's the part I thought I should ask about.." She grimaced a little.

"Does his 'husband' have to be at the event or can I make something up?"

"He has to be there." Diana said.

"Who's playing the part of my husband then?"

"Clark?" Diana eye rolled when Bruce chuckled and gave her a look. "We all agreed that you two would be best for this since you both have natural chemistry. It wouldn't look fake in front of public eye."

"Is Clark really up to it? He doesn't seem the acting type."

"We asked him and he said it was perfectly okay with him. And give him some credit, he pretends to be a new reporter and has to hold back on everything he does so he doesn't break anything. Granted he has gotten a lot better at the last thing and maybe not so much on the first but we didn't pick him for his spectacular acting, that's why we picked you." Diana explained. She looked at him with a piercing look, arms folded so he felt like he was being scolded. Bruce sighed.

"When do we leave?" He asked, letting some of how tired he was feeling seep into his voice hoping to get some pity sympathy.

"This evening, I'll have a jet ready for you guys and Alfred will come and get you both." Diana puts a hand on his shoulder and rubs his back for a moment before walking towords the door.

And so after a long jet ride of getting into character and banter with Clark he ended up here, talking to some random reporter.

He looked over at Clark (he got to play Oliver Brown/Wilson who was a full time actor in mostly comedy, romance, and action movies and the two met on a red carpet for charity event and they "instantly clicked") who was on the other side of the room making small talk with one of their targets while the reporter was asking 'how is your husband doing, I haven't gotten the chance to talk to him yet?'"

"Oh, he's doing amazing and he looks amazing while doing it too?" He and the reporter laughed and nodded at each other. "I mean what the heck are we all doing?"

"I've heard a rumor that he night be a co-star for you in your upcoming movie." The reporter says.

"Well who said that?" Bruce asks, a playful glint in his eyes.

"He did!" The reporter laughs at Bruce's expression of surprise but then exceptance.

"Well to be honest with you we haven't started shooting the film yet but from what I hear the budget for this film is top tier and they've started wrapping up auditions." Bruce answers. "But if the producers decide the want him in it then they'll let him know, I mean we would be happy to have him, he's a fantastic actor and a wonderful person to have around and just lights up any room he walks into." Bruce was mentally cringing at his answers, he wasn't used to playing the "happily married with two dogs and a house".

"Aww, that's so sweet." The reporter coos at him and he just smiles back. "Oh, speak of the devil!" The reporter says and Bruce feels a hand slide across the small of his back and onto his waist and pull Bruce closer to Clark so now they're shoulder to shoulder.

"Oh hey, we were just talking about you." Bruce says, doing his best to smile and make it look like he was in love.

"All good things I hope," Clark grins at Bruce then the reporter who laughs and immediately starts asking questions. Bruce allows himself to zone out a little bit while Clark answers said questions and just look at him at the reporter.

He didn't expect Clark to be so good at this. And none of his movements or touches seemed forced or nervous and he seemed completely relaxed and comfortable. He zoned back in just in time to hear Clark turn and flirt with him with a wink before continuing on with what he was saying. He would have to take back what he to Diana, Clark was really good at this. Almost better than Bruce was.

Bruce spots one of their targets lingering in the corner, sipping on champagne. "Our target is sitting in the corner, I'm gonna go talk to him before we have to walk out onto this red carpet for photos." He whispers in Clark's ear, head turned far enough away from the reporter that she can't try and read his lips. Clark laughs like Bruce said something funny and nods and Bruce excuses himself from the conversation.

He bullshits his way through a conversation with this target who doesn't really know who he is but is too drunk to ask questions. He gets the information out fairly easy and then spots Clark walking the red carpet and quickly joins him.

Clark slips his hand around his waist again and when he can't hold his waist he grabs onto Bruce's hand as they walk.

Later in the evening when the event is drawing to a close, Bruce is talking to one of their targets. He's making small talk and asking about the man's hobbies since he's already gotten the information he needed.

Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Clark walking over but decides to ignore him and continue his conversation. Once Clark reaches him he does what he's done all evening and puts his hand on Bruce's waist. He's done it so much Bruce now notices when the warmth of Clark's hand isn't there. He trys not to think about that right now though and just smiles and Clark and continues talking.

He isn't looking at Clark when he decides to lean in and kiss him. It isn't the first time it's happend this evening but he usually did it on his cheek or temple but this time decides to go lower and touches down onto his neck.

Without thinking Bruce squeaks mid sentence and scrunches his neck into where Clark's head is to rid of the sensation on his neck because oh my gosh it tickles. He chuckles despite himself and glances over at Clark. To any outside person his glance appears to just be a couple sharing a look maybe could even be taken as a way to flirt with them. To Bruce and Clark it means "do NOT do that again, I swear to everything on this green earth I will rip your arms off".

Clark just grins and (thankfully) doesn't do it again. But if Bruce knows his best friend then he knows there's more to come.

After what feels like an eternity of the host thanking everyone for coming and explaining why he decided to set up the event and thanking the sponsors, he and Clark and finally back up in their room.

They get undressed in mild silence until Clark dares to break it.

"Soooo.." Clark starts and Bruce can practically hear the grin he's wearing. "ticklish, huh?"

Bruce eye rolls. "Stow it, you just caught me by surprise." He says while taking off his shirt and putting on comfortable shorts.

"Oh really?" Clark says and Bruce can feel the sharp poke to his side coming but he was too slow to avoid it and let's out a shout, turning around to face Clark with a scowl on his face.

"That's not the reaction a nonticklish person would have."

"It's a character, doofus." Bruce says but keeps his hands out in front of him to protect himself from any more pokes.

"Ohhh, okay." Clark says and it appears that he decides to drop the subject for the time being.

The two get into bed and Bruce lays down on his back, thinking about all that had happened over the past two days, how many targets they had left, information they had gotten, how good Clark was at his role, his hands on his waist and his back and his neck and kissing him-

His thoughts were interrupted by the same person he was thinking about. Clark had rolled over onto his stomach and poked Bruce's side. He didn't react because he was slightly expecting it but he did look over at Clark.

"You're really not ticklish?" Clark asked. "I thought all humans were ticklish, it's a defense system isn't it?" Bruce sometimes forgot Clark wasn't actually human. He had to learn human customs and culture and how their bodies worked so he could pretend to be one.

"It's common for people to be ticklish but most grow out of it after childhood because their sense have been dulled by time." Bruce answered.

"That makes sense." Clark replied. "What happens if I do this?"

Clark reached out and Bruce expected him to try and tickle him in some way but all he did was reach out and wiggle his fingers just barely above Bruce's stomach and sides. Bruce instantly tensed his stomach and felt his face heat up from his cheeks to his ears. He just hoped it didn't show on his face.

Clark noticed the reaction he got from that and continued even after Bruce smacked his hand away.

"What's wrong, Bruciee?" Clark said, that mischievous grin of his plastered to his face again. "I'm not even touching you."

"I hate you." Bruce grumbled, glaring at his best friend. Clark just laughed and continued.

Bruce finally had enough and rolled over onto his stomach, face in his pillow, hoping Clark would get bored when he couldn't see his face or any reactions and go to bed. (spoiler alert: he was wrong.)

Clark took the liberty of his new work-space which was Bruce's back and started to drag his fingertips across the whole of his back, admiring the goosebumps left in his wake.

Bruce smushed his face further into the pillow hoping it would spare him the embarrassment of dying to Clark Kent and smother him to death. If he made it out of this alive he was going to kill Clark.

"Wanna hear a nursery rhyme?" Clark asked. Bruce wanted to shake his head no but he didn't want to give the satisfaction of an answer, and a small part of him wanted to see where this was going. "I'll take that as a yes."

"Walking through the jungle," Clark said slowly in a sing-song voice while walking two fingers up Bruce's back. "X marks the spot," Clark drew an X over his back with his fingers. "dot, line, dot, line, dot dot dot." Clark did exactly as he said, poking his back whenever he said dot and tracing a line down Bruce's spine whenever he said line.

"Heree come the spider to bite you in the neck!" Clark scurried his fingers up Bruce's back until they reached his neck to scribble in the crooks of his neck. Clark almost got Bruce to squeal, but he did manage to get him to scrunch up his neck. "Tight squeezeee," Clark reached down and squeezed his sides a few times. "cold breezee," Bruce swore that Clark used his powers to make his breath colder as be blew on his back and at his ears, which tickled like hell. "now you have the tingles!"

Bruce let out a sigh of relief from the rid of tickle-y sensation. He was holding in more laughter than he thought he was.

He thought Clark was done until he started over, doing his little nursery rhyme of torture (he was being dramatic, he knew that, but it was the only name that felt appropriate) for however many more times, sometimes with the words and sometimes without, til Clark finally got tired and turned off the light.

He let his body fully relax for the first time since early today. He felt his muscles release all the energy contained inside of them and from Clark's terrorizing he actually felt tired.

He was almost asleep until he felt a poke to his side, and five minutes later a cold breeze directed at his ears. He rolled over to glare at Clark just in time to see him jump on top of him and start digging into his ribs. Clark started vibrating his hands into his ribs at an inhuman speed, causing Bruce to dissolve into laughter instantly.

Bruce tried to protect his ribs and throw Clark off at the same time but managed to succeed in neither. It tickled so bad, the electricity of the tickles racing through his body and lighting him up like a firework. He shoved his face deeper in the pillow, hoping to find some means of escape in there.

"Poor, Bruce." Clark laughed from above him. "Too ticklish for his own good." Clark made sure to say that directly in his ear so that his breath tickled him. Bruce screamed at the feeling, squirming more than ever.

"G-get off of mehehehe!!" Bruce laughs, resigned to his fate but praying that maybe pleading will work.

"Be quiet, you're gonna wake people up." Clark replies, ignoring Bruce's whines and protests. "There's something I wanna try."

Bruce quiets himself but strengthens his struggles more than ever. Unfortunately a regular human doesn't do much against superman who is over 200 pounds of pure muscle.

Clark leans down and starts pressing kiss after kiss on Bruce's neck, starting at the nape of his neck and moving towards the crook of his neck and next to his ear and Bruce freaking giggles. If there's one thing Bruce thought he didn't have the capability to do anymore, it would be to giggle.

But of course, Clark Joseph Kent would be the only one to get it out of him. And of course it's like this.

"You- wait, do-hohoho-don't! Kehehent!!" Bruce spluttered through his giggles, eyes starting to tear up in his mirth.

"Hm, what's that?" Clark said into his neck om the part right below his ear so that the vibrations from his voice would tickle him too. "Sorry, can't hear you over all these giggles."

Clark was ecstatic about being able to get The Batman, Mr. Sour Face Grumpy Pants, The Broody Knight himself to freaking giggle.

Clark let Bruce roll over onto his right side to try and protect himself even if it didn't help much but he knew that Bruce liked to have the feeling of some control.

"Okay, okahahay!!" Bruce laughed freely, pushing at Clark's shoulders as he dove back in to kiss the front of his neck, even daring to throw in some nibbles.

He reached down a pinched Bruce's taut stomach as well, feeling the muscles jump away from his touch and shake with deep laughter.

"Y-you win, you wihihin!" Bruce cackled, shoving at Clark's face with one hand and covering his stomach with the other.

Clark stopped hearing the desperation in Bruce's voice. He leaned back to admire his work. Bruce's neck was covering in some red spots where Clark had kissed him and his face was bright red all the way from his cheeks to his neck. Clark felt his heart race a little bit looking down at Bruce and realized he was still straddling him. He slid off quietly and they sat in silence for a while while Bruce caught his breath.

"I hate you." Bruce muttered, glaring at Clark. It would have been more effective of his face wasn't still red.

"I love you too." Clark smiled brightly at him.

Bruce eye rolled and flopped over onto his stomach but otherwise didn't move his position from the near middle of the bed. "Mention this to anyone and you're dead."

"Noted." Clark chuckled underneath his breath and lay down next to Bruce, finally letting sleep engulf him.

Surprisingly, Bruce slept the best that night than he had in a while.

For the next few days Clark stayed close to his side, always either touching him or talking to him not that he minded.

But every time he'd try and talk to someone and Clark was with him, he'd take the opportunity to sneak hands into his suit jacket and make Bruce wiggle away from him or press a kiss to his neck or ears just to see him scrunch up.

Bruce always laughed it off in the moment but as soon as they were back in their room it was all glares and scowls meanwhile Clark was ever the ray of sunshine.

He didn't know why he didn't get Clark back, he knew he was ticklish (ridiculously so even, Diana had shown him one time when she snuck up on Clark and tackled him to the ground, wiggling fingers into his sides and scribbling on his neck. He suspected Clark might be extra sensitive to tickling because he was never exposed to it as a child and was also an alien). Maybe it was because he thought Clark wouldn't tickle him anymore if he did and he was just getting used to Clark touching him, he wasn't ready for the touch to stop.

He was shocked by his own thoughts but shook them off. He would deal with his feelings for Clark later.

The mission ended rather well and soon enough they were on a jet flying back to one of Bruce's mansions where Diana would be waiting for them. They'd have a team meeting next week to discuss the information according to Alfred, whom was driving the jet.

Bruce set his phone down and looked out the window, thinking about all that had happened the last few days. He didn't know what was going on between him and Clark and he was okay to let it go for now and just enjoy the feeling of warmth that spread through him whenever he looked at the brown haired dork.

He glanced over at Clark who immediately fell asleep as soon as they got into the jet, chair leaned back and arm thrown over his eyes. Bruce smiled and looked away again. Yeah, he could get used to this.

I kinda went a little free hand for some parts (I'm not great at writing anticipation and such but I'll improve) but I you liked it!

(I very briefly proof read it but not too much because I have school in the morning so if there's mistakes then I'm sorry 😭)

[tsa-smth]

I'm indecisive about my own headcanons + I'm curious about your thoughts guys 👀

While I've included the poll variants based on weight in general, I'd love to listen to your headcanons about other aspects of his unlegofication 🙏🙏🙏

[gaybananabread]

OOH for tickletober can you do 30 with lee!MK and ler!Wukong? I LOVE THE BABIES IM WATCHING SEASON 5 RN

TickleTober Day 30 - Trick-or-Treat

~UGH I recently finished season 5 and- my heart?? AUGH! These babies have my entire soul; I’m more than happy to wreck them. I can’t decide if I like seeing Dadsy or Dad-Wukong more; expect some fics about those soon! Thank you for requesting, and I hope you Enjoy! Happy spooky season!~

Lee: Mk

Ler: Wukong

Summary: After learning that Wukong didn’t celebrate Halloween, Mk sets up a mock Trick-or-Treat route for his mentor to enjoy. However, it seems the king would prefer the tricky side of the holiday. After all, a good scheme and hearty laugh could be its own treat.

Warnings: none! This is a tickle fic, so if you don’t like that, scroll away!!

“I think I got it.” Wukong nodded as a pumpkin pail was shoved into his hands. He’d never participated in Halloween before; when Mk heard that, he wasted no time in teaching his mentor all about the traditions.

“Great! Remember, it’s Trick or Treat. I’ll be over there!” Mk smiled and jogged off to one of the little shacks he’d constructed, ready to give Wukong the full Trick-or-Treating experience.

“Right…” The monkey man chuckled as he watched the kid run off, shaking his head. His “mask” was a skeleton face on a piece of paper, but Mk had assured him that even the simplest costume counted. With a fond sigh, he approached the first “house.”

“Uh…trick or treat?” Wukong stood in front of the door of the crude shack, a bit impressed that he’d been able to make six of them in an hour.

“You have to knock!” Mk whisper-shouted from inside, the sound of fabric rustling meeting the monkey’s ears. What was he doing in there?

With three steady knocks, the Monkey King tried again. “Trick or treat!”

The thin wood door opened, revealing Mk…with a sheet over his head. There were two little holes cut out for eyes, though they were dreadfully lopsided. It took everything he had not to laugh at the endearing sight.

“Helloooooo!” Mk drew his “ooo” sounds out to sound ghostly, dropping a few pieces of candy – hair illusions, no doubt – into his pail. “Happy Halloweeeeen!”

“Thanks, kid,” the orange-furred monkey said affectionately, backing away from the shack. The moment he did, he heard more rustling, then saw his mentee high-tailing it to the next little place. He really was going all out, wasn’t he?

Wukong took slow strides over to the next little shack, giving Mk time to set up whatever silliness he was doing. That time when he knocked, the door was answered by a witch; well, it was Mk in a cheap witch mask and black robe, but the monkey had to compliment his quick-change skills.

“Eeyeee-he-he!” The kid did his best witch cackle, which had Wukong biting his lip to keep from laughing. It was so bad… “Here’s yer candy, ye scoundrel!” Again, more likely-hair candies, though that handful contained little green orbs. Very on-theme: he liked it.

The next few stops were similar scenarios, each of Mk’s appearances different than the last. He’d seen the boy as a sock-handed Frankenstein, a toilet paper mummy, and a vampire with a suspiciously similar cloak to the witch’s.

The last house, however, looked different than the rest; the door was a blanket, and the place looked smaller than the others.

“Uh…what happened here, bud?” Wukong stood back a foot or two, giving the kid any space he might need.

“I kinda ran out of wood when I made this one, so I got creative.” The monkey could hear his slightly nervous chuckle from behind the blanket, though there was a mischievous edge to it… “I’m ready for ya!”

Wukong shrugged and approached the little shack, knocking on the frame of the “door.” Instead of a festive Halloween character, however, he was met by Mk in one of Taang’s sweaters and corduroy pants. “Git offa my lawn!”

“Uh, bud? What’s this about?” The Monkey King chuckled as he took a few steps back, avoiding a swing from the old Mk’s cane – his staff, which he was putting to excellent use.

“Not everybody wants you darn Trick-or-Treaters in their yards. You’ll crush my petunias!” Mk lightly swung his staff, aiming for his mentor’s feet. Wukong dodged it, huffing amusedly. When he was a full five feet away from the shack, Mk went back inside.

Now, he knew there was probably some method to the kid’s madness, but he wasn’t in the mood to think too hard. The activity was called Trick-or-Treating. Since he wasn’t getting any treats, he’d have to play into the tricky side.

Carefully, he climbed onto the roof of the shack, taking special care to make sure it didn’t collapse under his weight. Then, he leaned over and knocked on the frame.

When Mk came out, already scolding him in the mock-old tone, Wukong’s tail wrapped around his waist, hoisting him into the air. The kid yelped, kicking and laughing already as he came face-to-face with his mentor.

“Monkie King! You were supposed to be at the door!” He squirmed as the king brought them back to solid ground. It was probably for the best that they moved; he really didn’t put enough effort into that last shack.

“That’s if you want treats,” Wukong grinned, using his tail to tug his mentee closer. “I was feeling tricky.”

Before Mk could ask what he was doing, he felt the king’s paw-claws kneading his sides. He squealed, falling into a bright giggle fit as Wukong began tickling him. “Mohohohonkie Kihihing! Th-thihis ihihihisn’t pahart of ihihihit!”

“Hey, traditions can change. Aren’t you all about progress and new beginnings?” He teased, watching the boy squirm and twist in his tail’s grip. It was a little difficult to hold the strong boy still, but he managed.

“Nohohot lihike thihihis!” Mk whined as he kicked his feet, pushing weakly at Wukong’s hands. He really wasn't trying to push him away; it just felt impossible to stay still.

“Not like this, huh? Then how about this?” The immortal smiled as he dug into the boy’s stomach, targeting his navel. As expected, he shrieked, the whiny giggles ramping up to bright belly laughter.

“GYAHAHAHA! NAHAHAT THEHEHERE!” Mk’s thrashing doubled as his worst spot was attacked, his arms starting to actively try and defend. He was strong; so strong that Wukong had to pull him in against his chest, trapping the boy in a tickle-hug.

“You were right, kid. I really do love this holiday.” Wukong’s ever-present shit-eating grin grew fond as he listened to his mentee laugh his head off. He was so rarely at ease anymore; seeing him completely carefree, hearing that crazy laughter, made Wukong’s heavy heart a little lighter.

“HAHAHALLOWEEN IHIS SCAHAHARY, NOHOT FUHUNNY!” Mk was still trying to argue the point of the holiday, still sane enough to form coherent sentences. He was slipping fast, but he still had to try.

“I feel like it can be both,” Wukong teased. “Plenty of haunted houses have actors that pop out, scare the pants off you, and then do stupid stuff to make you laugh off the adrenaline. Scary and funny.”

“SHUHUHUSH!” It was always so unfair when the Monkey King had good reasoning behind his silly arguments. He’d have to rewatch Monkie Cop to pick up that talent.

“When have I ever done that on command, kid?” The monkey snorted to himself, dragging a single finger up the kid’s spine to hear him squeal. “And here I thought you knew me…”

“Y-YOUHU CAHAN’T- NOHOT BOHOHOHOTH!” Mk was rapidly losing his ability to think as the orange-furred monkey teased both of his worst spots. That was just uncalled for, and incredibly unfair!

“Uh, yeah I can. Watch me,” Wukong sassed, taking the boy’s plea as a challenge because of course he did. One paw remained on Mk’s navel while the other snaked around to his back, scribbling up and down his spine.

Mk promptly lost it.

“NAHAHAHAHA! MOHOHONKIEHE KIHIHING!” Squirming and thrashing beneath the evil touches, Mk tried and failed to get away. The monkey really wasn’t tickling him that hard, but the sensitivity of the spots made it excruciatingly ticklish nonetheless.

The kid could only take so much of that relentless teasing. Within a minute of the intense tickles’ starting, he was tapping out, stomping his foot against the ground. “NOHOHO- GYAHAHAHA! NOHO MOHOHOHOHORE!”

Wukong quickly recognized the boy’s surrender, stopping his tickles in favor of soothing back and belly rubs. His tail remained around the kid’s middle, giving him a reassuring little squeeze every few seconds.

“You okay, kid? Didn’t go too far?”

“N-naha, you’re all goohohod…” Mk panted as he caught his breath, cheeks flushed and eyes wrinkled at the corners with a smile. He really did have fun, as cruel as the tickling method was.

“Good. Want any water?” Wukong was getting better with taking care of mortals, recognizing their needs and trying to meet them. “Big Blue was making some nice lemonade tea if you wanna grab some.”

“Really?” Mk’s eyes lit up at the mention of the Arnold Palmer. Sure, it was out of season, but he still loved the drink. “Yeah, let’s go!” He sprung up, taking off for the shop like nothing even happened.

“This kid, I swear…” Wukong shook his head and chuckled before summoning his cloud, zipping after his mentee. He was a goofy and unpredictable boy, and the monkey wouldn’t want him any other way.

“Race ya there, kid!”