#ok it's an attempt to write

[ladyvictory22]

Husbands who share clothes

Toto was sitting at the terrace table of his hotel room, engrossed in analyzing strategies for the Monza Grand Prix. Suddenly, he felt arms wrapping around him and a small kiss on the cheek, which brought a smile to his face.

"Are you leaving already?" he asked, closing his laptop and turning to face the person behind the affectionate gesture.

"Yeah, we're going to shoot some stuff with Max before the event," Christian replied, letting go of Toto so he could turn around completely.

Toto noticed Christian's attire and then noticed something peculiar about his outfit. "Christian Horner... are you wearing my shirt?" he raised an eyebrow and smiled.

It wasn't the first time Christian had appropriated one of his shirts. After exciting nights, Toto would often wake up with his husband sleeping beside him, wearing the shirt Toto had worn for dinner or to attend some event. It also happened on weekends when the Mercedes team didn't achieve satisfactory results. As a way to comfort his husband in their intimacy, Christian would don Toto's Mercedes shirt and wake up wearing it.

Christian flashed his characteristic mischievous smile. "Well... yeah, I felt like wearing something of yours. It's like having you with me," he said as Toto wrapped his arms around his waist.

"You possessive bastard," Toto whispered, brushing his lips against Christian's.

"You're just as bad or worse," Christian replied before joining his lips with Toto's. "Or should I show you the bite marks on my chest from this morning?"

Toto smiled as he remembered it and kissed Christian again, this time more passionately. Their tongues entwined in a desire-filled kiss, showing how much Toto wanted to repeat what they had done that morning.

"You'll be late... you should go before I don't let you leave the room," Toto warned.

Christian kissed him once more, tenderly, and playfully bit his lower lip before pulling away. "I'll see you later."

Days later, during Friday's practice sessions, Christian arrived early at the paddock. Before heading out, he bid farewell to his husband. Thanks to Mercedes' social media photos, Christian noticed that Toto was wearing one of his T-shirts."You possessive bastard," he muttered to himself, while smiling with pride for his husband.

[wardingshout]

Zelda goes mushroom girl

[xxlady-lunaxx]

A bit more of a fluffy ask than anything

Sanegiyuu discussing wedding stuff, and Sanemi goes "I think you should give me your last name" bcs he hates his last name despite the respect that came with it.

i say yes

Typically, for opposite sex relationships, the husband’s last name is taken. But, whilst discussing their futures, Sanemi points out that both of them are men. Giyuu’s quick to add that they could technically both keep their own last names, but Sanemi intervenes, poking Giyuu’s cheek to quiet him.

“I think you should give me your last name,” he says, resting his elbow on the table and leaning his head on his hand.

Tengen, who was visiting for the main purpose to be an annoyance, pipes up. “So you’re admitting that Tomioka’s the man, between the two of you?” He smirks. Sanemi throws the nearest thing close to him—an empty tea cup. Tengen, the fucking bastard, dodged it easily.

Ignoring their unnecessary banter, Giyuu hums. “You don’t like your last name? I thought you’d keep it…” He trails off, unsure how he was going to finish his sentence.

“Thought you might like the idea of me not being able to call you by your last name anymore,” Sanemi teases, rolling his eyes. Occasionally, when he was annoyed (or just for fun), he’d refer to Giyuu as ‘Tomioka,’ how he’d done in the past. Giyuu was never quite happy about it.

“That’s not-” Giyuu pauses. “Oh. It’s more than that, Sanemi. It’s just, like, Genya- And… I dunno. There’s a lot more to your name.”

Sanemi grows quiet for a moment. Tengen has the mind to not say anything.

“There is a lot,” Sanemi agrees. His tone is distant, and it’s clear his thoughts are elsewhere.

A flicker of understanding passes Tengen and he adds, “well, Tomioka, you could easily have a lot to your name if you let this guy take it as his own, too.”

Giyuu nods slowly, feeling that there was something more to why Tengen was the one who butted in. But he doesn’t question it, instead scooting closer to Sanemi. “So you’d be Tomioka, too?”

Sanemi flashes him a grin. “Sanemi Tomioka, right?” he confirms. “Fuck, I wouldn’t have thought I’d take the same name as the one I used to curse at.”

“Like, to my face, or alone in your room?” Giyuu pesters.

“Both,” Sanemi concedes.

“He was so damn in love,” Tengen grins. “Even when he thought he hated you, he was actually just fighting off the feelings.”

Sanemi shoots him a look. “I’ll just say that my hatred for you runs quite steadily, Uzui.”

“Okay, so, we’re settling on mine?” Giyuu asks, interrupting their arguing.

“Definitely,” Sanemi agrees. “Wouldn’t mind ditching ‘Shinazugawa’. I’ve had it for long enough.”

“Are you just marrying me so you can change your last name?” Giyuu deadpans.

Sanemi snorts. “Oh, yeah, my entire purpose of our relationship was to take your last name. I’ve never cared a moment about you, I just thought ‘Tomioka’ would be a nice replacement,” he huffs, affectionately nudging Giyuu’s shoulder with his own.

“You could say goodbye to me, too, if that was true,” Giyuu says flatly, though a smile plays on his face.

“I just realized how hard it’ll be to get used to this,” Tengen grumbles. “Alright, Shinazugawa, you’ll just be Tomioka. And Tomioka, you can be the pretty Tomioka. Or something. The original, better Tomioka.”

“You are so good at playing favoritism, there is no way you don’t have a favorite wife,” Sanemi grits out.

“I just like Tomioka better than you,” Tengen says, raising his hands in surrender. “Don’t get so bitter about being a boring person. Can’t believe Tomioka’s actually agreeing to marry you.”

Giyuu smiles. “He has his pros and cons.”

“Wouldn’t take a genius to know which column has more,” Tengen mutters. Sanemi stands.

“You little shit—”

[bayetea]

I don't like the judo flip in moa as much as the next guy but in my eyes it's largely the result of rick not taking female violence half as seriously as male violence (a result of viewing women as weaker and inferior to men such that their acts of violence don't need to be taken as seriously) and not so much anything about annabeth herself. like I do genuinely feel that annabeth is a complex heroine and definitely one of the better ones in the realm of ya action-adventure fiction produced in the past 25 years but she is still a girl being written by a man and all I'm saying is that her writing clearly reflects that sometimes (more in tags)

[batfossil-fr]

my two cents on the everlux drama

am I a fan? no, but keep in mind I haven’t been a huge fan of any ancient breed. I have a number of issues with their design but it doesn’t involve the concept of being a grub kinda dragon or how fat they are. mostly it’s just that all their different components feel a bit jarring when all put together so I find them kinda cluttered.

but on the other hand, I’m used to being disappointed in ancients for entirely different reasons. I’d SO much rather be disappointed that they went a little too cluttered for my tastes than getting the same “this ancient could pass for a modern easily” that we’ve gotten so many times already

so good on staff for trying something new, I hope we get more attempts like this. maybe the first one didn’t hit for me but there’s always more chances. there is also a lot of valid feedback that I really hope the artist(s? might just be Undel) receive, but this wasn’t just an everlux issue (don’t get me started about fathom M and aether M and undertide M and)

and I hope the next breed is even fatter

[aftg-rot]

[reaper-in-reverie]

The Boy Who Cried Wolf

note. tw for dark themes (it's dazai) such as suicidal thoughts and suicide attempts, depression, and overdose. all things dazai, in short (?). angst, angst, angst. i think i relate to dazai to some level. also, just to clarify, I'm not trying to portray the agency doesn't care for dazai, they do care for him and it's obvious, I just thought they don't take him seriously sometimes. turned out longer than I desired. ooc writing. wc. 905

Dazai's pen roughly scribbled word after word onto the piece of paper he held in his other hand.

"Please, just this once,"

His handwriting was messy yet still understandable. He stared at the paper for a moment, eyes growing hazy with tears that didn't dare fall; if this worked, he wouldn't have to live meaninglessly any longer, he wouldn't have to look for a justification for his miserable existence anymore.

Dazai quickly placed the piece of paper down on a nearby table, running it in his head if the paper would easily be spotted. Then he moved the table to the corner to make it more noticeable to anyone who could potentially walk in.

"Please, please, just this once, let me do it."

He shakily reached out to the pill bottle.

He stared at it for a moment.

He stopped himself.

It beckoned to him sweetly.

God, Dazai was so tired. He looked the opposite direction, to the wall where his calendar was hung. Today marked the fifth year since Oda's death. His dearest friend. He could feel Odasaku's stare, somewhere out there, and he could feel Odasaku be torn between letting the poor boy rest and wanting Osamu to live. Everyone had their limits.

"I'm sorry, Odasaku—" the words were erased as fast as Dazai had scribbled it into the letter.

He stared at the calendar a little longer, but he didn't think over what he was about to do. Instead he thought about how absurd the Agency was for being so used to him trying to kill himself—the suicidal maniac was always cheery, after all. Never tired. Always bothersome. The Agency would hardly bat an eye. Maybe Atsushi would ask around. That would be the end of it.

"He must be trying to drown himself again. That sorry waste of bandages—he'll come back."

How cruel of them to think he'd always return.

How kind of them to think he'd always return.

"I hope this works."

Dazai breathed out sharply, moving his head to the opposite direction once more, to the pill bottle at the side. He took it and poured some into his hands. Similar to how water escaped from the gaps of his fingers, some pills fell from his hands. He didn't bother to pick them up. This should be enough. This will be enough.

Another stare at his hands.

Then he let the pills drop into his mouth, letting them sit there before he took a glass of water and swallowed harshly, sealing his fate, the pills sliding down his throat with something akin to enthusiasm.

"Just this once."

Dazai paused, waiting for his vision to blur familiarly before attempting to make it back to his futon. Multiple bottles sat around where he hoped to have his final rest, and he stumbled on a few of them—what an ironic design for a coffin.

"Just this once."

He collapsed into the bed, turning his head just slightly to the calendar again. His head spun. His vision faded. He had not learned to begin to care.

"Let me die."

Let me die.

Let me die.

"Please, let me die."

Dazai still woke up.

And he wanted to die more than ever.

He put on a usual cheery smile on the way to work. He stared at the sears on his arms before wrapping a new roll of bandages over them. Yes, everyone would believe that they were there just for design so long they were clean. Yes, no one would suspect a thing.

The Agency wouldn't bat an eye, he thought.

He was just the silly waste of bandages.

"Kunikida-kun—!" Dazai chatted cheerfully, showing the newspaper he picked up to poor Kunikida. It was an article concerning the Agency. Dazai pretended to find it entertaining as he pointed to a pathetic shot of Kunikida.

"You look so manly here, don't you think?" There was a teasing lilt in his voice, which made Kunikida glower at him.

"Oh, you—I should just strangle you!" Kunikida groaned, rolling his eyes and turning away. Dazai laughed obnoxiously, placing the newspaper on Kunikida's desk. He started to walk off, but Atsushi managed to catch up to him before he could leave the office. The younger boy gave Dazai that bright smile, though it immediately morphed into a dismissive look upon processing Dazai's leave.

"Are you skipping work again, Dazai-san?" Atsushi asked, leaning by his desk.

"Of course that bastard's skipping work again," Kunikida rolled his eyes. Dazai looked back at him, his expression solemn for just a split second—before a smirk rose to his face once more. Kunikida hardly listened, anyway.

"You know me!" He waved, shoving his hands in his coat pockets as he made his way to the exit.

"Don't actually kill yourself, this time, Dazai-san!" Atsushi called one last time before Dazai shut the door on the both of them.

This time.

Dazai sighed, walking down the hall and into the elevator to escape the building.

Of course he wasn't actually planning on scurrying away from work. He was going to visit a certain grave. Where a death of five years lay. He was going to visit Odasaku. He was going to visit an old friend who sat peacefully beneath an old willow tree. He wondered if Oda waited for him, wherever he was. Dazai thought he was probably writing a story, living peacefully in the arms of death.

And, someday, Dazai hoped—that he, too, would follow him to where all stories ended.

© reapkusho on tumblr. 2024. all rights reserved. refrain from translating, copying, or stealing in any way, etc.

[rolandkaros]

(if i asked you guys for gif requests would you have any. i feel like there are a lot of amazing giffers on here who have more experience and skill than me so im not pretending like what i offer is particularly novel. but like is that something The People (read: tennisblr) would enjoy? like im not about to force requests out of you, but hypothetically would you have anything in mind? it could be a player in general or a specific moment...but fair warning i would be limited to what media is available to me. but barring maybe a total of four players i can think of im willing to gif practically anybody. idk. would we be interested. but dont say yes just to make me feel better. does anyone want mediocre gifs of their blorbos.)

[shooks-stupid-stuff]

well, this took much longer than it should have lol

y'know how on the last one i said i was really shit at backgrounds? yeah i had to redraw it like 50 times lol (and it wasn't helping that i accidentally put the darker red part the same layer as the light cream and didn't realize until after i had finished :'] )

anyways, masumii palette doodle. funnily enough i ended up just. using a different palette than originally planned and it made it so much easier for whatever reason. but i'm really happy with this one too! glad i could finally figure out a pose i liked :]

[mdzs-owns-my-ass-i-guess]

How do you know?

The tops of Sizhui's cheeks are dusted red when he finally makes eye contact with his senior. He has been staring into his cup of tea for the past 10 minutes, quiet and unmoving, gripping the side of it hard enough that it's a miracle it didn't break yet. Very uncharacteristic of Sizhui to be so... worked up over something, but there's no better place to find out what's wrong than over tea with Wei-qianbei.

"I...um... have a question."

"Figured as much." Wei Ying laughs. "What's up?"

"How... how does one know when they're... in love?"

Wei Ying feels his heart both ache and soften at the question. He sees himself, over twenty years ago, asking his shijie the same thing. He remembers Wen Qing telling him she'd probably never get to see A-Yuan growing up and and achieving his life's milestones, learning cultivation and falling in love.

"It's different for everyone." Wei Ying finally replies, in a voice that's uncharacteristically soft. "It feels like... honestly, it feels a lot like sword flying for the first time."

"H-huh...?"

"You're scared you're going to fall and nobody's going to catch you, and it's terrifying. But once you're in the air and you feel the wind around you and you can see the world from above, you feel free and invincible and like you can do anything."

Sizhui is quiet for a long time after that. Wei Ying lets himself think over his own metaphor.

He has been scared to fall, indeed. When shijie found him hiding in a tree, when he learned to fly on Suibian, when he fell into the Burial Mounds, when he learned what his feelings for Lan Zhan meant... In fact, until Lan Zhan, he could never be sure there was someone there to catch him. He had been scared to fall in love with Lan Zhan too, even if it came to easy, even if he couldn't help it, even if, in hindsight, it was obvious Lan Zhan loved him too.

But nothing could compare with the knowledge that his feelings were reciprocated, that he would never be alone again, that no matter what, there would always be someone in his corner, loving and protecting him. Catching him if he'd fall.

And he'd been falling a lot lately - Mo Xuanyu's core has improved, but not nearly enough to allow Wei Ying to do the airborne tricks he used to do with Suibian. The amount of times he almost splattered into the ground should be laughable - but Lan Zhan always caught him, no matter how ridiculous it was for him to slip off his sword like a child.

"Is it... easy? To love someone?" Sizhui asked, again, his face even redder than before.

"The right person is never hard to love. It just comes naturally, you may not even realize it's happening."

He surely didn't, not from the start. His life would have been a lot different if he had - still, his life is wonderful now, and there's no point dwelling on the past.

"You know, it took me a while to realize that I loved Lan Zhan, but not because it was difficult. It just came like second nature to me, it felt normal for me to want to be around him and to share everything with him. It was subconscious, I think. Our hearts know we're in love before we do."

Wei Ying doesn't realize he's playing with the ribbon Lan Zhan left on his wrist as he says all this.

He also doesn't realize Lan Zhan is quietly listening in from the doorway of the Jingshi, a look so soft and loving in his eyes it would melt him if he saw it.

---

"Anyway, why are you asking me this stuff? Got any news to share?"

Sizhui's flustered and sputtering. "N-no, I-I was just, um, curious, it's nothing like that, really!"

"Well, when you do decide it's something, let me and Lan Zhan know, we need to have a stern talking to with whoever's decided to steal our baby's heart!"

"Wei-qianbei!!"

[deltastorm101]

is it just me or does the wallpaper of the computer alan finds in initiation 6 look a LOT like the ending shot of alice's film from american nightmare

[byanyan]

byan being loudly and unapologetically themself being, in part, a defense mechanism. byan being so used to being told that they're too much by someone who's gotten to know them that they just put it all out there now to steer away anyone who wouldn't be able to handle them. byan keeping people at arm's length with their own personality and energy to save themself from being hurt again (if you can't handle them at their most, you don't deserve to make it past their walls, to see them at their quietest and most vulnerable). byan testing the people who can handle them at their most, intentionally trying to find their limits and drive them away because they're scared, because they don't know how to handle someone being able to tolerate all of them, because they're terrified of being truly perceived and not being good enough again.

[hcdragonwrites]

Banquet ( a @journey-to-the-au fic)

I had to split this into two parts because … it’s 16 pages and I did NOT want to swamp anyone with a wall of text. I’m finishing up the last bit later today possibly after work or tomorrow. I hope you all enjoy!

If there was anything that Heaven knew how to do, it was to throw a party.

In the most boring way possible to Willow.

The entertainment for tonight’s banquet of Heavenly Delight were four great white mares, set to dancing. The great beasts were dressed in robes so long they brushed the courtyard ground beyond their feathered hooves. Purple and gold, saffron and yellow silk was tied to their manes as they sashayed and side stepped in perfect tandem to the soft orchestra led by Gold Chimes Softly. The drums beat a second heart to the horses hooves. Everything was ever perfect and in time. Not a swish of a tail or a twitch of an ear. Willow heard the bells on the great hooves beat in perfect harmony. Other women from their seats applauded as the mares danced softly from side to side. To everyone who awaited the main course and delighted in the dancing, it was the most marvelous entertainment.

To Willow, she was bored to her wits end.

Not a single spark of spontaneous will, Willow thought as her hands settled in her lap. It was another feast her father had requested by letter for her to attend. Well her and Wukong who-even now after almost hundreds of years!- the celestial busy bodies still whispered that she, Earth Reaching Willow, must be under some sort of cursed spell, some beguilement to be married to him.

Sometimes the pasty nobles and smooth beautiful faces of the lady’s behind their fans and sleeves earned the deepest scorn from Willow.

She looked up to the sky. They were seated in the courtyard of sorts, where the pavilions were open to the air and backdropped by the perfectly cut ivy crawling it’s way up the trellis. The warm air and the music was welcome but also stifling in a sense. Incense burned not too far away, cloying with the scent of cooking food in the worst possible way. Willow saw that every star was in its perfect place, the constellations playing at perfection to please their Emperor. Another laugh from nearby caught her ear over the dancing horses. She turned and saw a few attendants huddled in a whisper, pointedly looking between other guests at the banquet. Seems their is rumor scheming going about. How dull.

I bet none of them have witnessed the beauty of a star shower from earth.

She hid it well however, her scorn. Willow couldn’t understand how anyone would choose Heaven over the ever changing earth below. None of these thoughts made themselves visible on her face however. Schooled and taught, bred to peaceful serenity, Willow let nothing ripple the calm of her outward appearance. As cool as a northern star, as serene as a flower in a vase.

Captive peace was hardly true peace. It was stagnation. It was the loss of what made the peace worthwhile. Willow had experienced that feeling: of tumbling in the grass, the heat of the fire as a lightning strike burned a forest down, of the sea and its salty spray in a storm. Willow had felt the movement of a world and it had caught her and held her constantly in its motion.

She took a sip of wine to hide her mouth as it began to slip into a frown. The wine may be of the best quality, brewed by the greatest hands and purified in the finest crystal, but it would never compare to the joy of the toasts her earthen family held in their patch of paradise. Of how when Ba got into his cups he would challenge his sister Ma to a duel of jokes and japes. The music made by Sweet, a kind little monkey, was a better tune and full of more life then Gold Chimes Softly well placed and organized orchestra. Sweet could play a jaunty tune upon their flute, while the rest of his little musician group followed along. They could whip the troupe into a frenzy of dancing and table jumping. Willow had danced before, controlled and reserved like the Mares in their bells and ribbons. But dancing within her husband's court had been an experience she never would have imagined missing. The dancing wildness and stamping feet, the spinning from partner to small partner, the joy that filled the air and the laughter. It had been better than star wine - it had been an intoxication that had left her heart drumming and face smiling wide.

The horses finished their beautiful dance and the court clapped. Willow clapped too. The mares did wonderfully. It was not their fault that the dance felt too restrained, too controlled.

Her father was happy to have her home. Willow could tell by the very evident glances down to his daughters from his seat at the head of the table. He had all of his family arrayed about him, basking. Willow made polite conversation that only scraped surface level with her sisters and the passing women who came to visit her seat. Willow complemented the lady’s jewels and colored gowns. To the men she disarmed a hundred pointed comments that were trying to dig beneath and get to the root of what would be tender and delectable tea to spill in court.

That great sage- he drinks with a gusto! Is it always this way?

Translation - is he a drunk ?

My what clothes. Such a unique style it must have been picked up in his travels!

Translation: He dresses like a Savage. Is He a Savage to you?

Willow had almost slapped another adviser who had pointedly remarked on the lack of children they had and questioned Wukongs ability to perform.

Her sisters, oh her clever sisters, had rallied to her defense in the most courtly way they could: they turned him into a piece of gossip to throw back to court.

“Did you hear?” Wind Over Sea stage whispered to Autumn Leaves Falling.

“Oh do tell!” Autumn Leaves Falling flashed her most wonderous smile, catching the Advisor in her trap.

“Seems that Moon Shadowed Clouds husband has been kicked out of their bedroom!” Wind replied, making direct eye contact with the Advisor.

“How terribly pitiful!” Weaves the Clouds remarked from her cushion beside the other sisters. The Jade Emperor watched from above, keeping himself out of the gossip.

“Wasn’t he caught drinking down in one of the mortal brothels ?” Autumn added, her eyes slashing toward the advisor.

“I heard it was on his Wife’s birthday to boot!” Winter Frosted Grace sniffed, setting her cup of tea down.

Her sisters turned in unison to stare down the Advisor with such cat like intensity.

“For shame!” Little Weaver Girl, the youngest of the brood of women, said loud enough for the court to hear. Little could get away with being louder than the rest- she was adored by their father and was the master weaver of heaven. Her creations had been sought after by all the courts when their father had worn one of her robes that Little had made. “Trying to twist your bad fortune onto my sister.”

The advisor, of course, made a swift exit with red ears and wounded pride.

Willow was thankful for her sisters. They alone understood that Willow, for whatever reason, had found comfort with Wukong and was truly happy. They didn’t see why she wished to remain down among the earthly mortals. Her happiness was what they valued and, like a streak of tigers, would defend with witty claws and well disguised barbs any that fancied a go at making court gossip from the Emperors family.

Willow wished for the upteenth time that she could bring the lot of them to their mountain. To see what she saw. She knew deep down that none of them would really understand. Except for Little. Her youngest sister often snuck from the court to watch the common people live their lives and to see the other mortal weavers of the world. Little would love their mountain. She began to think of Flower Fruit Mountain as theirs - her and Wukongs. It Held so many memories- so many joys and sorrows.

Where was Wukong?

Willow was surprised he had been absent so long. Wukong was still a bit unaccustomed to the Celestial workings of the court and it’s people. Even after attaining buddhahood and becoming an enlightened master, Willow knew that the gossip surrounding them would never die out. It was tiresome to interact with people who still brought things up from almost centuries ago.

She cast her gaze about for him and saw a flash of his red fur—

And his teeth.

Willows stomach fell, like a falcon folding her wings for a dive. Straight to the bottom of her soul

Wukong was surrounded by a swath of richly dressed courtiers, lords and men of the Palace. They kept a respectful courtly distance but Willow knew it was too close. Her dear friend was giving all the warnings she had learned over the centuries together to read. His eyebrows had been raised at the beginning of her watching but now they lowered, the teeth on full display. A smile of aggression. A smile that said ‘I take offense’. He felt accosted and would soon act upon it. For all the calm that had been taught, her husband could not forget that he was a creature that had to fight for so long.

Oh these utter fools, Willow thought. They still don’t know when to leave him well enough alone.

It would be their fault for not understanding Wukongs simple and very obvious attempts to walk past and around them. But another man would join, asking to hear of his teachings from the Buddha himself, and his eyes would make direct contact with theirs and the teeth would shine all the sharper. That wasn’t a smile. That was a promise of violence.

Willow knew if Wukong reacted it would only cement the court's opinion of Wild Beast they saw. Willow had to act fast before the feast turned from one of peace to one of violence. So Willow, setting her goblet down whispered to her nearest sister, Winter.

“Catch me.”

“Beg pardon?”

And then Willow, with the grace of all her years of acting and tricking the witless fools of Heaven, swooned and fainted. Winter caught her, crying out in more surprise than worry.

Willow made sure she brought her hand up dramatically to her face, the sleeve covering her mouth. Her elbow she had knock into the tray that held food and Willow was rewarded with the loudest clatter of porcelain cracking onto the floor beneath them. The goblet she had placed was sent flying to spill into the rug beneath their cushioned seats.

Sorry father. I know you wanted a peaceful night with us all.

Her dramatics had the desired effect: the court all took in a sudden breath and some gasped. She heard her father call to her and the worry in his voice made Willow's heart beat with a bit of guilt.

“Sister?” She felt hands shake her shoulders in worry and looked up beneath lashes into Winters frosty face.

“Play along, so that way the court doesn’t catch on.” Willow whispered and her hand subtly pointed to where Wukong had been- and where he was running up to her.

“Willow!” He sounded so worried it made her heart give another guilty squeeze. His hands had grown in size, meaning he had made himself larger than regular. “Are you alright my love?”

Willow looked just beneath her arm as she brought it up higher in a mock groan. But he was close enough to hear her now.

“Let’s go home.” Willow could see the stress lines on his face, the anger that had been there cooling like coals in a fire.

“Seems my sister fainted.” Bless her, Little was close enough to see that a game was afoot. And she always approved of games. “It’s been so long since she was at the Palace after all. The scents may have overwhelmed her.”

Wukong looked down just long enough to see Willow give a wink. Some of the tension leaked from him and she could feel it leave his hands. His fast mind seized onto this statement (now that he was given a signal that this was a ruse) and elaborated upon the story.

“My wife was worried about tonight. The winds over our mountain have been so clean and clear while Heavens incense must have overwhelmed her delicate nose.” Wukongs arms took her up, face close to hers.

“How did you know?” He mumbled into her hair. He didn’t ask her if she knew what. Wukong understood that she was doing this for him in some way. It was the intuition of being with each other for so long.

“Saw those courtiers - the fools.” She barely moved her lips to speak and was glad to have her sleeve covering her face. She couldn’t help the smile as he blew air into her ear, tickling her.

“You are a Heaven send.” He said to her then addressed the court.

“Seems my wife needs to clear her head. We will head home on the leave of my Father-in-Law the Jade Emperor.”

“You may go, Sun Wukong. Let me - let me know how she fares will you?” The worry that made the end of his voice tremble at the end had Willow feel just a bit more guilt.

Sorry Father.

Willow felt Wukong bow his head and then they were away, faster than a falling star on a path back to earth. Once past the Celestial guards Wukong tapped her shoulder with a claw and Willow dropped her act and sighed.

“Thank small mercies.” She sighed, gazing out at the fast approaching world below.

“Mercies exist but they are not small.” Wukong said. “I’m holding one in my arms.”

“You flatterer.” She laughed at the sappy look he gave her and she pressed his nose with a delicate finger. “Come, tell me true- what we’re those vipers cornering you about?”

“Seems they were beginning to question my … ability to … well …” Wukong was looking everywhere but her, the wind blowing across his fur. It couldn’t hide the blush turning his face and ears into a tomato.

It only took a second for Willow to understand- and she turned in his arms to glare back into the sky. “I will flay that Advisor!”

“Advisor?”

“Yes. The little shrew of a man must have set the rumour to running before he approached me himself.” The coward. She was glad her sisters had known enough gossip to spin his dilemma into a full show for the court. Willow touched Wukongs cheek, worried. “Tell me what happened.”

“They started asking about my ascension in Buddhism and asked about my teachings. Then they started … well. In on the questions of you and me and our… intimacies.” He was so uncomfortable that he was rubbing at his forehead, claws leaving little red marks on his exposed skin. “It started making me uncomfortable and I couldn’t see or get a clear path to return to you.” Wukong sighed. “I’m sorry Willow.”

“Sorry? You have nothing to apologize for! That man had come up to me and my sisters to dig at us for information as well.” Willow chuckled, remembering how Little, Winter, Cloud and Autumn had perfectly embarrassed the man. “Of course you know the sort my sisters are- even if they don’t quite approve of me living on earth they won’t stand for such pointed questions.”

“You were asked about children as well?”

“Yes and I was about to slap him.” This made Wukong laugh. They sped past a cloud front, promising heavy rain. The mountain was coming into sight now within a sea of jet black turned silver by the moon.

“I would have paid good money to see it. The second slap heard in all of Heaven!” Wukong chortled. Then he sobered. “I’m sorry again.”

“Stop Wukong.” Willow caught his face and pressed a kiss to his temple. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”

And then her stomach gave a tremendous growl, like the traitor it was. It took the wind from her words and flamed Wukongs look of timid regret.

“I pulled you away from the feast before you could even get a bite in.”

“We have all the food back at home.” Willow countered. Cursed stomach. As the Mountain got closer and the silence stretched a bit longer Willow looked back at her friend. His face was concentrated in thought that was slowly beginning to brighten to delight.

“Wukong, I know that face. What are you thinking ?”

He was silent, trying to make his face neutral again. And failing miserably. Once they had stepped down and onto solid ground, Wukong set Willow down and returned to his original size.

“Wukong…” Willow tried again, but was interrupted as the two sentries that night, Ma and Ba, came bounding forward, weapons drawn. When they saw it was Wukong and Willow they relaxed and called greetings.

“My King? You Return so soon!” Ma said.

“Was the feast good?” Ba asked, his broken tail giving an agitated flick.

Wukongs face was fully alight with a genuine smile as he looked at Willow then back at his family.

“The feast was a drab thing of mediocre blathering. We will outdo them here!” The Monkey King walked forward, taking Willows hand gently. She followed, knowing that she was about to get her answer to what Wukong was about to do

“Ma! Ba! Call the troupe- fire up the ovens. Set Water Curtain Cave in its best ! We will have our own feast that will rival Heavens!”

“Yes my king!” The two answered in unison then sped off, whooping and calling and waking all of the mountain for a feast. Ma grabbed at her brothers ear and yanked, getting ahead of him. Ba snarled in mock aggression, swinging his leg to knock Mas out from under her. The two had turned it into a race and it didn’t seem that either would make it out without a few bruises along the way.

“They seem eager for it.” Wukong laughed. He led Willow into their home as the lanterns were turned from their sleepy glow to a bright blaze.

“Wukong …”

“What?”

“Why a feast? I don’t need a feast — I would be satisfied with a simple fruit tart and some water.” Willow felt a bit guilty as she saw sleeping mothers poke their heads from the stone homes and peer out at the ever growing and excited crowd calling for feasting. She saw the kitchen fires light up like a twinkling row of stars coming to life.

“Nonsense!” Wukong assured, pulling her along. “ Why should Heaven have fun and we not have any? Besides I have to find a way to thank you for saving my pride while you lost a bit of your own.”

Was that what this was about ?!

“Oh Wukong it’s fine! Women are expected to faint and fall over themselves with the silliest things.” Her sisters had fainted countless times. Mostly to attract the eye of a gentleman or women they thought was beautiful or fancied. Willow had seen Autumn take the most spectacular swoon, right into the arms of one of the generals! Maybe theatrics ran in the family. Wukong simply shook his head. The idea had him now, the excitment of competing with Heaven growing brighter in his eyes.

“I won’t hear of it.” Wukong declared. Willow forgot how competitive her friend could be. But he also was hiding something else he wanted to do. She could read it like a book.

“You are planning something else are you not? Don’t lie, I can see it on your face plain as day!” She teased him, his mirth infectious. The whole cavern was now alive with the news- droves of the family were coming out now gathering in the banquet hall with foodstuffs to share and enjoy in. Wine was being brought up from the deeper colder caves and already the air smelled intoxicating as the cooks set to work.

It was Wukongs turn to wink at Willow now as he left her at her room door, smiling softly. “You will see~”

[shoezuki]

the essay i got due tomorrow n barely done is like. its good i like it im excited to write it and im so upset that i have no time and am sick like.

its in my fairy tales n folklore class n im writing on the subject of taboo topics in perrault's 'donkeyskin' and specifically the symbolism/metaphors of the donkey hide she wears n how it symbolizes her trauma haunting her long after she escapes her fathers attempts to marry her n like. i like the story a lot n how its kinda fucked up but perrault really watered down the father-daughter incest topic n tried to make it more 'safe' and less taboo. but he fucking failed and i wanna argue bout it so bad. but my head hurt

[godsfavoritescientist]

Billford isnt canon in a literal Sincere Authorial Intent sense, y'all 😭😭😭 please get better standards for how much creators need to include in order for something to be considered officially canon. I've jokingly said "I cant believe billford is canon" too, but I thought we were saying that lightheartedly. I thought we all recognized that it was "canonized" in a wink-wink nudge-nudge way where they fully leave room for people to interpret it as "haha isn't it so funny and clever that they're framing being betrayed by a demon as if it's a romantic breakup!" Please. I'm begging you, do you understand what I'm saying here