#They make me ECSTATIC

[xinnamonbun]

💛THEM❤️

[lotus-pear]

the besties!!

[canisalbus]

gothic lolita machete came to me in a dream

.

[blanketforcas]

cas would be so good at sucking dean's dick tho. with a little grace on his lips to add to the experience. "ribbed for her pleasure" except it's graced up for his pleasure

[bluestempigeons]

Bonus pigeon: this 10 year old Frillback I got for $5 in the parking lot

[heavensincarnate1111]

and just like that, i’m done with chalice of the gods

^ accurate representation of how i feel currently!

[elfbymoonlight]

sorry again to anyone following me bc you'll be seeing a lot of this freak for at least the next few weeks

[lulu-the-bugaboo]

Ok hear me out

For the longest time I have been against Ace coming back in any way because I thought it would ruin how well-written ASL's tragedy is. But ever since Oda answered that seemingly insignificant question about Sabo a little while ago some false hope has taken over me (and part of me really wants it to come true)

Here is the question for those who haven't seen it:

Seems pretty much like no new information, right? But these questions were supposed to be important and Oda didn't really joke around while answering them. That last line? Imo it has little significance to the main question. I think at the very least this could mean that Sabo inherited Ace's memories (I think it would make sense if it's caused by the fruit but the answer is kinda weird so I'm not really sure. Maybe he doesn't want to make it too clear?)

What I just said seems like the most logical and probable case scenario.

BUT

I have been rethinking about the scenes of Sabo talking about his fire/the fruit like it's sentient. It could just be a coping mechanism like we have always thought (and if the memory thing I just mentioned is true thatvwould make extra sense.) Part of me wonders if he really is seeing Ace now that he has the fruit? Like maybe as some sort of ghost? In the omake after Sabo wakes up from his dream where he managed to save his brothers he does so crying and Koala points out that he's been having that same dream and crying about it for everyday these last two years. And theeen after he gets mad at her he calms down and says that Ace is angry at him. Wouldn't it make sense if he still has the dream since he's been having it for so long but now that Ace is (in some way) there he wouldn't like that?

At first I saw this as a sign that the ghost thing logically can't be true since if Sabo is still crying about Ace after dressrosa then surely he isn't seeing him in any shape or form. However me rethinking it led to what I said above.

I don't ever want Ace to fully come back because that would just be straight up bad writing. But hell if I wouldn't love him just being a ghost that only Sabo can see. We can finally get that Sabo/Ace interaction and it wouldn't really undo the stuff with Luffy either. And it would also be really interesting lore wise.

I mainly think I'm just delusional and bored tbh lol

[justaz]

ive never watched uhhh game of thrones?? i think?? but i saw a clip of that chick with white hair and the dragon and she lit herself on fire or something and came out of the flames alive and i was just thinking that + merlin + this post + this fic (kinda. sorta. in a way.)

so somehow arthur gets involved in the dragon egg shenanigans, maybe merlin goes to him first or arthur finds out some other way idc whatever anyway they all make their way to the tomb where the dragon egg should be and find it open and a dragon egg sitting on a pedestal surrounded by bits of charred remains and a whole lotta ashes

arthur + the knights are cautious but merlin is entranced by the egg and steps into the room which separates him from the group. arthur + the knights are frantically trying to find a way to get him but merlin doesn’t realize what’s happened as he continues to approach the egg and places his hands on it. instantly, the room ignites and merlin is bathed in the flames

despite a huge fear of merlin’s being the pyre, the flames hardly register in his mind. he can feel the dragon soul within the egg dancing under his touch, he can feel a bond forming between his soul and this baby dragon - it lights a fire within him and he feels alive and complete in a way he hadn’t ever felt before. the name “aithusa” falls from his lips involuntarily but he doesn’t have time to think about it as the egg is cracking.

with every crack in the shell, merlin feels a piece of himself crack open. scales flick over his skin down his arms, down his legs, up his neck and a bit across his cheeks. his ears sharpen and his hearing improves as does his sight. his nails sharpen and grow into claws on his hands and feet. his teeth grow uncomfortably large in his mouth and he tastes the tang of blood as his fangs nick his cheek and tongue. his back splits open and huge wings unfurl behind him, warmed by the fire and solidifying into their magnificent shape. with the naming of his first dragon, born of fire, another dragonlord is born.

a pure white dragon claws its way out of her shell, a beautiful thing, aithusa. she crawls up onto her dragonlord’s shoulder and with her settled, the room around them crumbles. the fire had spread out, pushing arthur and the knights into a retreat despite their conviction to retrieve merlin from the flames. as they exit, they have no time to mourn or think of ways to help merlin as they’re surrounded. idk who their enemy is but they’re fighting for their lives but honestly they aren’t doing too great. until the tomb behind them caves in and falls apart to allow the sun to shine of the figure standing in the midst of the ruins.

a terrifying creature, a man and a beast, a demon from hell. he grins, feral, before pouncing on his enemies. he does not wield a weapon nor magic, he uses his claws, his wings, and his fangs to tear his enemy to shreds. as they regroup and surround him, he turns and lets flames billow from his maw, chasing them away if they’re quick enough and charring those who weren’t. with a quickness that is frightening, another demon from hell, another abomination of man and beast swoops in and tears their enemies to shreds.

they both eviscerate their enemies, working together as if they’ve always done this, until there is nobody left to fight. the two stand side by side, covered in blood and wearing matching mad grins and wide, crazed eyes. merlin and balinor stand victorious over the carnage, their wings pointed towards the clouds and glimmering in the sunlight. the last two dragonlords of the ambrosius family line, father and son.

[gilly-moon]

"Real people don't talk like that" well hey did you ever maybe consider that it's because

THEY'RE FICTIONAL

[kuragesoda]

"it's creepy, isnt it?" "there's no traps... right?"

screenshot redraaaw !!

[hcdragonwrites]

Cozy (a @jttw-monkeybusiness Drabble )

So I made another one- this one was inspired by this ask (I suck at Hyperlinks I’m so sorry)

It rolled a bit in my brain and kept begging to be fleshed out, so I decided to give it life ! Enjoy!

Snow

Snow fell in white flurries, chasing away the blossoms and birds that had been sitting in the trees just moments before. The storm was in a full frenzy now, peeling petals from overeager trees who had budded too soon, and throwing the birds from the sky. The wind whipped up the cold powder to spray back in the face of the pilgrims as they continued on their journey. They had left the warm subtropical forest only hours ago, where Sophie had rolled her sleeves up to relieve some of the excess heat. Now however, she was shivering.

None of the group, save for Wukong, was truly equipped for the snow and cold. Pigsys ears were turning purple from the temperature as he tried, and failed, to hide from the worst of it behind Sandy. Sandy silently continued on, carving a path for Sophie (who trailed farther behind) to walk through. The snow was already deep, coming to her knees as they continued to follow the tiny path up the mountain. Black rock jutted upward and outward like broken teeth into the white air. Horse and Monk both were struggling ahead, Yulongs sides shivering in the wet as the snow melted on his fur. Tripitaka called Wukong over, asking him to scout ahead to look for a place they could shelter for the duration of this storm. Sophie could see there heads bent together as Master and pupil discussed. Wukong, for once, didn’t reply with a snort or a quick jab at how Trip should be lucky for him to be his disciple. Instead he had somersaulted off, gone in a flash of fur and tiger stripes, into the air.

“Would be nice if I could just somersault out of here.” Sophie muttered.

A freak blizzard had not been on the list of things Sophie was ready for. She had faced shape-changing demons, women that turned to great tigers to devour Tripitaka, mountain gods throwing stones down into their path and the like. Sophie was prepared for any person or creature - or at least- expecting it. The weather however? She was severely underprepared for. She had the travel clothes she had bought with the coin purse she’d been given. They were meant for light rain and mild heat. Not for a snowstorm. Sophies hair was getting wet and the cold was starting to chill her ears from where it melted.

“It’s so cold…” she muttered. She kept following Sandys footpath, thankful for the giant of a river demon and his slow shuffling walk. If he was walking normally he would have left her far behind in the snow.

Her foot hit a rock and slipped, sending her flailing into a rapidly growing snowbank. “F-f-f-freezing! AH!” Snow had gone down her shirt, sending a chill up her spine. Faster than a wildcat she had hopped from the bank, shaking herself.

“Hate snow hate snow hate snow—“ she chanted her mantra as she slapped off the powder, trying to prevent it from melting and wetting her clothes. Wet clothes would only spell disaster. Sophie could recall all the cold born illnesses from one special National Geographic did on Everest and the extreme exposure the hikers faced there: pneumonia, Trench foot, frostbite, hypothermia, flu, Chilblains, bronchitis —

Her foot slipped again as her mind was listing all the things that could happen. Sophie would have been in the snowbank a second time except something caught her by the midriff and hauled her up.

“Stupid women stay on your feet!” Wukong snarled in her ear, setting her down. Sophie nodded, teeth chattering and nose turning red as the cold began to chap it. “Of all the people here I thought at least you had the common sense to be aware of ice!”

From up ahead came the faint cry and heavy fall as Pigsys fell face first in the snow. Sandy had to quickly turn to hid a chuckle as the drenched demon began wilding swinging his rake around in rage.

“S-s-sorry.” She mumbled, shoving her hands beneath her armpits. “Slipped.”

“What’s wrong with your speech? You sound like a squirrel.” Wukong cocked his head, an eyebrow raised. He rolled his eyes when Sophie didn’t banter back irritated she wasn’t snapping back at him. That agitation grew when he felt something like worry begin to itch his pelt. Of the pilgrims, the two mortals were in his charge of care and were the most delicate. While Wukong could fight off monsters and Demons and wicked minded mortals he could not fight a storm. Well- he could if he really wanted to find the celestial body responsible for its creation. But that would take time- and time was not on his side on this.

Tripitaka had put on a brave face when he had asked the Monkey King to find shelter. That didn’t mean Wukong had not noticed how his Masters hands had turned red at the growing cold, how his body shivered and his nose sniffed. Wukong would have teased, poked and prodded at his master- it was his nature to rile and cause mischief. But when he had seen the half awake expression on the mortal man’s face, Wukong had bit his tongue (with great effort) and had instead nodded.

Seeing Sophie in a similar state made the itch beneath his pelt grow worse as fire ants had begun to bite his skin.

“Damn it.” He cursed beneath his breath. He snatched her arm, avoiding her hand, and started dragging her behind him. “Come on just a bit farther you softie. I found a cave up ahead where we can get out of the worst of it. You mortals are ABSOLUTELY worthless when it comes to weather —“

Sophie was only half listening to Wukongs ranting. She allowed herself to be dragged up the mountain pass, trusting the Monkey King to find a better route than her own dimming senses. The cold was like a blanket she wanted to escape out of. Or escape into? She couldn’t remember clearly. If she closed her eyes… she was so tired. The snow looked inviting, comforting. Like the best downy comforter. Like the fluffiest pillow.

Maybe I just … need to lay … down in the comfort. Just close my eyes for a few minutes.

They had been walking for hours before the storm blew in. Her feet hurt, her hands shook and it was so cold. Cold. She just wanted to sleep.

“SOPHIE LOOK AT ME!” Wukong yanked her and she was rattled enough to open her eyes wider in surprise. Sun Wukong was right in her face, leaning so close she could see every line of his facial markings in detail. His breath came from between his teeth like some dragons as he glared.

“Ye-es?!”

“Stay awake- we're almost there. If you fall asleep while I’m dragging your ass up the mountain I will bite your pretty nose clean off!” The demonic monkey spat, then, half carried, half dragged Sophie the rest of the way. Leaning against his back Sophie sighed. Through the clothing she could feel it- like desert sand warmed by the sun. Delicious heat. Sophie - who wouldn’t in normal circumstances have cuddled so close- practically melted against the warmth. What else could she do? Wukong was dragging her up the mountain- practically carrying her. She could see the bend in the mountain pass- a steep cliff where the road cut itself around and hugged the mountain as a snake would do climbing along a vine. Almost there.

“How come you get to be so warm?” She grumbled, not realizing she had said it aloud. Wukong had heard however, and his face became a storm cloud as his heart took a shuddering beat.

“Maybe grow some fur or ask for the Buddha to make you some furry creature. Bet he would too.” Wukong grumbled back.

Stupid fucking women.

They reached the curve in the mountain where Pigsy and Sandy- mostly Sandy since the pig demon kept complaining about how cold his snout was- were setting up three tents. The tents were simple, the leather treated against wet weather and solid. All pigsy had to do was drive the stakes into the stone which, it seemed, he was failing at.

“It’s so damn cold!” Pigsy snorted angrily stamping his hands together, having missed the spike for the third time. “Blasted Heaven and whoever ordered a storm now of all times! Don’t they know who’s crossing these mountains?”

“Less talking more working.” Sandy angrily chided. He had finished setting up the second tent all on his own. When Pigsy went to open his mouth to make another comment and the usually peaceful Sandy shoved him across the shallow cave to the last tent and the one closest to the entrance.

As Wukong walked past, Pigsy lifted an eyebrow at the strange sight. The Monkey King could see the pig beginning to lift a lip in a smirk only to stop when he noticed Sophie’s shivering.

“What did you do?” Those were the last words Wukong expected to come out of his fellow brothers mouth.

“WHAT DID I DO?!” He bared his teeth, fangs on display. He didn’t have time for Pigsy or for his own feelings to confuse him. He knew Sophie was practically clinging to his back like the newborn monkeys did to their mothers back on Flower Fruit Mountain. He was very aware of it. The last thing he needed was for this thick pink idiot to start shit with him.

“I DIDNT DO SHIT YOU THICK HEADED BOAR.” He spat, continuing past. “THIS IDIOT STARTED FALLING ASLEEP IN THE FUCKING STORM. NOW SHUT UP AND GET THE OTHER TENT SET UP.”

Wukong left Pigsy behind, angrily chattering to himself and feeling embarrassed all the while. He couldn’t let that thick womanizing boar know any of Wukongs feelings. If he did, the damn brute would only press his nose to it and route deeper. The sooner he got Sophie off his back the better. Even though he didn’t entirely want that.

He reached the back corner of the cave, setting Sophie down. She huffed, letting go with some reluctance to his warm back. The Monkey King knelt, leaning in. Sophie’s shivering was less. Good.

“I’ll be back- I have to make sure the pink ham doesn’t fuck up the last tent. Once I’ve tended Yulong and seen to my masters comforts I’ll be back to check on you.”

Sophie pulled her knees to her chest. She was still so cold. She wanted nothing more then to curl up and sleep- to find something warm and hold onto it. She heard Wukong from far off - but she nodded.

“S-S-sure… just gonna fall .. asleep.”

“Don’t fall asleep you idiot.” He snapped.

“Why not?” Sophie groaned. She was tired

“Remember. You are in wet clothes. Wake up just to remember - Think. Use that reading brain of yours.” He flicked her between the eyes. That woke Sophie up enough as the pain cleared her head.

“Ow, what the hell Wukong?!” Sophie felt like she had come out of a daze. Her fingers started rubbing at the pain. It wasn’t terrible but … she felt like a child be scolded. Sophie glared up into the smug monkey face.

“Awake? Good. Now fucking listen before you nod off again.” Wukong smirked just a bit. The itching beneath his fur had eased just enough upon seeing her get mad. He spoke slowly, for her sake but also to press in how much he enjoyed giving her orders- and being right about them. “Your clothes are wet. You can’t sleep in them. Change to new ones. In fact, bundle up as much as you can. I’ll be back to check on you.”

Wukong stood up, then turned back around to flick her on the forehead again.

“Ow! I’m up, I'm up!” Sophie rubbed at the space between her brows.

“Did you hear what I said?”

“Yes yes …” she uncurled herself and stood as well, looking down at the Monkey King. “Get out of wet clothes and get new ones. Bundle up. That really hurt you know.”

“If you are still in wet fucking clothes, I’ll do a lot worse then just smack you between the eyes.” And then he was away, already cussing Pigsy out who had, somehow, managed to rip the tent.

It was a only about twenty minutes later but Sophie had managed not to fall asleep. She had gotten into the tent and had peeled the worst of the wet clothes off. Her poor shoes were the worst for wear- the socks and the soles were soaked. She would have to wear her spare shoes tomorrow and let these ones dry. Sophie had set the wet clothes to the farthest side of the tent. She was now dressed in a pair of gray sweats, a long sleeve and her hoodie of bright orange with clementines decorating the front. She felt much warmer and absolutely exhausted. Her fingers were red where the cold had gotten them, her lips felt chapped from the dry air, and her body just kept shivering.

Sophie had retreated almost completely into the hoodie- only her face was viewable.

The tent flap lifted and Wukong stepped in, a bowl of some sort of wild berries and cold rice in one hand. He took one look at her huddled there on her sleeping mat and snorted.

“You look like some orange orangutan.”

“Hahah very funny. See how you like the cold when you don’t have fur.” She shot back. Wukong offered the bowl to her and she took it, digging into it with gusto.

“How’s Trip?” She asked between bites.

“Alive.” Wukong leaned back, putting his arms beneath his head as he stared up at the tent ceiling. “You two would have frozen if not for me- you were both starting to look pinker than yangmei fruit.”

“Thank you.” Sophie said.

“Mm? What are you thankful for ?”

Oh he was gonna ask her for all of it then? Sophie looked at him. Wukong had propped himself up enough to stare at her, waiting.

“Thank you for the food.” She lifted the now empty bowl- she had been famished - to him. “Thank you for finding a spot to rest. And … thanks for dragging me out of the snow.”

“You almost died I hope you know that.” He smirked, laying back down, eyes closing. She followed suit, too tired to sit up anymore or even bicker back with him.

“Yeah I did …” Sophie yawned. Usually she wouldn’t admit so readily to Wukong just how certain situations had made her dependent upon him. He was always, in some way or other, saving the lot of them. When Tripitaka was snatched up by some Goblins belonging to some chieftain of a nearby mountain, when Pigsy had boasted that they didn’t need Wukong and then (almost immediately) failed to find food when Wukong was sent away. He had stopped the dragon horse from foundering and taken to the care of his hooves and coat many a time. The Monkey King had seen to restoring the missing supplies from Sophie pack when a group of mischievous raccoon spirits had taken it. Wukong had even replaced Sandy’s teakettle when it was smashed in battle (Sophie was pretty sure he had stolen it).

He may act aloof and pompous but deep down, this big old brute cared for them. Even Pigsy.

Sophie felt her eyes grow heavy as Wukong kept talking about how she had stumbled in the snow like some “dumb struck fawn” until he came to help her.

As she relaxed to the sound of his voice rumbling on and on, it almost felt … cozy. Yes Wukong may like to slide the occasional wriggly salamander into her water skin, he may thumb through her things like they were his, he may call her idiot, stupid women, and softie. But. There was no real malice behind his actions.

He was also kind of … warm. She scooted closer, half listening to the Monkey ramble on about the idiocy of mortals and the greatness of beings such as him. He was rambling on about his natural prowess over mortals and how he had mastered the arts of immortality and Tripitaka couldn’t even master warding off a cold. Sophie fell asleep before he could get to the part about her looking like a slack jawed idiot in the snow.

Wukong was only a quarter way through his regaling of the story of how he had saved everyone this day when he felt hands wrap around his chest.

His heart nearly flew into his throat as he stopped dead in his speech. His mouth was open, voice cut off halfway through his speech. Sophie curled into his side, face buried in the crook of his neck and so close to his ear he could feel her breathing against its shell.

Electricity shot threw him, fur standing on end as if he had been in a thunderstorm.

He was suddenly very aware of many things. Of Sophie’s hands that had escaped that ridiculous orange sweatshirt and were now burrowed into his fur. One arm was across his chest. The second one was now, somehow beneath his head and tugging on his shoulder. Sophie’s face rested on his arm and in the curve of his neck, her face rubbing back and forth like a cat. As if … she was enjoying the feel of it.

Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck.

Sophie moved just a bit, mumbling in his ear and Wukong felt his tail lash like it had just been bit. She didn’t say anything coherent but — the proximity alone—

Fucking Hell and all its Judges.

Sophie was … cuddling him.

She was practically twined around him.

And she smelled fantastic. Her scent always changed- sometimes it held a hint of lemons and the sweetness of grass, other times it floated like rain clouds and smelled of stones. But all of it together had a larger perfume beneath it. It was just her. Yes there were moments when her scent changed just enough that he felt like he was adding new spices onto his favorite dish. The essence of it, however, was just Sophie.

And now that cloud was all around him, filling his nose.

He looked at her, turning his head just a fraction to see.

Big mistake.

She was asleep, passed out completely. She looked so … fragile asleep. The dark circles beneath her eyes spoke of how she hadn’t been sleeping well. Her nose was stupidly pink like a Red Pika in her pale face. The cold must have chapped it. His eyes darted to her lips …

Mistake number two.

Wukong looked away, feeling his face flame. Fuck. Shit. He was stuck in a predicament now. He hadn’t meant to chat away about himself for so long that Sophie would fall asleep. Wukong was at war with himself. On one hand, he needed to get out of here. To leave before Pigsy and the others found out- before Sophie found out.

He couldn’t let anyone be that close to him- couldn’t let anyone be as close as Sophie was right now. It was a liability to his pride, to his reputation—

To his heart. Because if she rejected him it would ruin the friendship they had. And the feeling he had building in his chest- he would crush it in his fist before he let it jeopardize that peace between them.

I have to leave —

Wukong tried to move-

Only to feel Sophie’s fingers tug in his fur and her sleepy voice grumble “m’no don’t go.”

Jade Emperor flay me and boil me alive again.

In all the hundreds of years of living, Wukong had only felt trapped like this but once before. The first time he had lost his wager to the Buddha, having been unable to somersault out of his hand. The second time? He was trapped because he allowed it. He was trapped in a way no one in Heaven could have predicted- or had thought to do. Wukong had been placed in vats to be boiled, had wormed and tricked his way out of every trap and net that had attempted to keep his mischief managed. It had taken Buddha and his wager to finally end Wukongs terrorization of Heaven.

Wukong couldn’t move now. He was tethered here by frail fingers and the steady beat of a mortal's heart.

He could hear her heartbeat, feel it against his side. It was steady, soft. Like the steady roar of Water-Curtain Cave. Like the wind through the trees of the orchards on his mountain.

She was mortal. One day that steady beat would stop as all mortal hearts did.

That set his tail to lashing just a bit.

Hasn't she been afraid of dying? Of growing old? He remembered hearing a conversation late at night- when Tripataka and Sophie had those rare mortal conversations where he was explicitly not allowed to sit in on. He hadn’t known why it was such a secret conversation. So of course, since it wasn’t an order, Wukong had pulled a hair from his tail and made a doppel and floated somewhere nearby but out of sight to eavesdrop. The Monk and Reader had been chatting about death, about Sophie’s future.

Well her fears were unfounded. Doesn’t she know I would take care of her? Sophie shifted a bit closer as a gust of wind slipped beneath the tent flat he had left unsecured. Damn it all. Wukong carefully, o so carefully, shifted himself. He slid his body so he was now lying on his side, setting Sophie’s head beneath his chin. It was all the invitation Sophie needed to cuddle closer and escape from the wind.

“You stupid women.” He angrily whispered into her hair. He wouldn’t let her die. He would just fix that. He would fix a lot of her problems. She just had to tell him. He was Sun Wukong, Great Sage Equal to Heaven. He knew of a hundred different ways to achieve immortality. He could fix them all. Like her problem right now of being cold.

He was too tense to relax fully- too aware- but he grew just a fraction larger. His size now dwarfed Sophie’s a good bit and gave her a bit more to tangle into. And she did. Sophie curled her knees up, shivering slowing. Wukong waited. Watching. When finally the shivering had ceased he allowed just a fraction of tension to slide off of him. This stupid softie is gonna make me soft. The thought didn’t bother him as much as it would have months ago.

Maybe he wouldn’t get much sleep tonight but…

He could make her life Hell in the morning. It was something that she owed him on. His face was screwed furiously into a scowl because all he wanted to do was enjoy this moment but if he did- if he really truly did- he didn’t know if he would be able to stop.

She was most assuredly going to be bombarded tomorrow with the most annoying and snappish teasing and toying a King of Monkeys and tricks could give.

Sophie woke with a start as something cold and wet slapped her in the face. She panicked as any person would.

“GaH! DEMON!” She cried, grabbing at her face and throwing it aside. It was a wet rag.

“Relax.” Wukongs voice laughed at her. “Unless cloth can become possessed and has gained a hunger for red nosed mortal flesh, you're fine.”

He was at the tent flap, grinning ear to ear in a grin that promised problems. Really so early in the morning and he already wants to play games ?

“You could have woken me up in a number of other ways- why did you pick that?” Sophie rubbed at her face, feeling … huh. She didn’t feel as sore as she usually felt. When Sophie woke up there was almost a constant crick of pain in her neck from whatever odd angle she had slept in on the ground.

Maybe I had been so tired my body just finally didn’t care.

He shrugged. “You stink. Next place we stop at you better demand a bath of some sort or other.”

“Thanks….” She grumbled, letting the sarcasm drip off her words. She took the cloth up, rubbing the sleep out of her face and the worst of the dirt off her face and arms. She would kill for a warm bath, one that would wake up her bones and chase the last of the cold from her body. Once clean, she checked her wet clothes, bundling them away in a separate part of her pack to avoid them dampening the rest of her stuff. Then she stepped out of the tent, smelling the fire and the promise of breakfast being made.

Only for her feet to slip right from beneath her as a monkey foot stuck out and caught her ankle.

“WUKONG!”

He laughed, face full of malicious mischief as Sophie gathered herself up to chase after the errant Monkey. To do what, she didn’t know. He was a mystical demonic creature born of stone and she just a mortal women. As the morning light cut into the cave and Tripitaka had to order his disciple to calm down after he once again tripped her and she almost went sprawling into rocks, the pilgrims ate breakfast. They broke down their tents. And they were once again on the road.

None were the wiser of Wukongs happier mood. He hid it beneath a storm of frowns and a game of teasing torture as he became partically insufferable to Sophie. The threat of the hoop tightening spell was the only true damper to his mood when Tripataka heard Sophie scream as snow was dropped down the back of her shirt.

As the sun rose higher and the word was cast in a frosty flash of refracted gold, Wukong made a decision. He would solve Sophie problem of growing old. It was easy. And if Buddha couldn’t send her back…

Well she was a great sport for pestering and heckling. The least he could do as a benevolent King is give the poor women a roof over her head.

Maybe a few dresses down the line...

Girls liked dresses right?

“Hey Reader!” He called.

“What?”

“Dresses or suits ? What did you wear in that fake time long after this one ? Or whatever fake dimension you fell out of. What did you prefer ?”

And thus began the long hour debate that somehow pulled every one of them: Pigsy, Sandy and Tripitaka, into what was a heated discussion on the best attire for the best occasions.

[vaperarmand]

[chippedshake]

I love whenever, a couple days after coming out to someone as ace, they come up to me and ask whether I'm asexual or aromantic because I know it means I mean enough to them to look up this sexuality they've never heard of and actually find out the bare minimum of information

[ducktracy]

ltc is such a conflicting show because it is probably one of the ones where porky is brutally beaten the most but also is the cutest he has ever been in years. pearl of my dreams has SUCH cute porkies in it

TELLLLLLL ME ABOUT IT HAHA!! i feel the same way! LTC’s my favorite LT adaptation thats come out, i have such a deeply personal connection with it and it means more to me than words can articulate. i miss waking up at 5:30 in the morning to watch new batches drop and have my friends and coworkers who worked on it wair for my reactions. i love the show so so so dearly, i’m so glad it exists and it means the world to me. at the same time, i definitely have gotten a bit more critical of it as my knowledge of both the original shorts have strengthened AND the knowledge of the modern cartoon pipeline has strengthened! much of the LTC crew has migrated onto TPSS, which is WONDERFUL, if any of you guys are reading this you rock i love you. but that also means i’m able to have a more intimate look at how LTC was made since a lot of the same patterns and demands are on our show, because it’s the same cartoon pipeline! so, with that knowledge, i’m able to pick out “this is a side effect of the modern pipeline, the classics wouldn’t do this” etc and generally taken out of it a bit more. i’ve grown more critical not because i like the show less, but i just Know More now and my vision has broadened

WITH ALL THAT SAID! that has definitely allowed me to see that the Porky and Daffy shorts can get pretty repetitive and follow the same formula often of “Daffy makes Porky’s life miserable and Porky gets beat up a lot”. THANKFULLY(?), they’re still easily my favorite shorts of the entire bunch, they have their flaws but i still absolutely love them, and the repetition doesn’t bother me as much with them because the novelty of the pig and duck being together on-screen is good enough for me LOL. very easy to please i know. BUT YEAH, one of my biggest issues for sure is how poor Porky can never catch a break :( i’m glad that they seemed to try to rectify this though in recent batches! Crumb and Get It is one of my favorite shorts of the entire show, and you could describe that as “Porky makes Daffy’s life miserable by basically doing nothing”. Stained by Me is another very big favorite of mine since Porky gets to act a bit retaliatory towards Daffy which i love! i thought it was definitely one of the more faithful to the classics. (and i have to say, i bring up the classics the classics the classics a lot—i know these shorts aren’t trying to be 1 to 1 recreations of the classics. i just remember when these shorts were being marketed as the sort of second coming of the classics, and so that’s always stuck in my mind a bit/i have terminable Comparison disease which has thankfully been letting up, but it is stubborn here since these are the closest TO the classics in format and structure. so i realize me going “okay but it wasn’t like the classics” when they’re not exactly trying to be 100% like the classics is… ignorant? IUNNO! I KNOW MY HYPOCRISY LOL)

as always, i have past thoughts that reflect what i’m trying to say a bit more effectively, the second one especially relevant to this ask:

i think it comes down to just a sort of caricature and magnification of the original dynamics. i have many more thoughts that are refusing to come to me at this moment… BUT YES. even in spite of all that, i still love LTC and still love the Porkys and Daffys. i’ve noticed that the shorts with less dialogue (Wet Cement, Battle Stations, Duck Chocolate, Crumb and Get It) tend to be my favorites, since i think the overabundance of dialogue—and very OBVIOUS dialogue, like a character pointing to an object and saying “look, it’s [object]!” in these shorts is one of its biggest trappings. and all of the above—maybe with the exception of Duck Chocolate in some parts, though a lot of it is pantomime driven and wonderfully so—have the characters with comparatively subdued natures. not as much screaming or hysteria or madness

ALL OF THIS IS TO SAY, i am VERY excited for TDTEBU (gee what gave it away) because i’m excited to see how the demands of a longer format give way to more subtlety with the characters. when the film first released in Germany and i was spending every waking hour of the day trying to find any sort of reaction or information and frying my brain (and been doing the same this past week :’)), i found a podcast reviewing the film, and one person described it as a “Porky movie” centered on his growth which makes me extremely excited and hopeful that there’ll be more subtlety and sympathy for his character

AND YES, in spite of it all Porky is SO ADORABLE. i haven’t seen Pearl of My Dreams since it dropped, i really ought to again… i was just thinking the other day that i couldn’t remember if they made a “pearls before swine” joke in there or not, and if they didn’t then it would be highway robbery. more incentive to rewatch!!

[boywifesammy]

sam's initial reaction to the bunker is actually heart-wrenching. do you guys ever think about how fucking terrifying it is that sam eventually just accepts that he's going to suffer forever? that he'll never have a home? that pain is what he DESERVES, his destiny, what he's fated for. the loneliness of sam's character genuinely HURTS me, especially when they show us over and over again that he craves humanity so badly. him running away to stanford and his short stint with amelia are just two examples but i could go on for hours about how much sam perpetually craves connection. every single time the opportunity is presented he jumps at the chance because even if it has ended in disaster every other time he so desperately wants something permanent, something that's his, to feel like he belongs anywhere.

the sole reason that sam was able to gain control over lucifer in swan song and jump into the cage was because of that little soldier man figurine in the impala. that entire episode revolved around the impala and how it was sam and dean's home their entire life. those little snippets of them carving their initials into her skeleton and how dean made sure to keep all those little personal effects every time he rebuilt her... it just tears me apart knowing what sam goes through later on. he places such deep, deep importance on the small stretches of life that he gets to experience in between the pain and loss that is the rest of it.

this is why when sam told dean that he couldn't call the bunker home because every home he's had has literally GONE UP IN FLAMES, it absolutely destroyed me, because there was so much FEAR and desperation in that scene. that 'normalcy' that sam wanted when he was younger wasn't actually about the specifics of civilian life. it was about having a home, and the peace of mind that he could unconditionally trust that the people he loved wouldn't leave or die.

but the bunker is literally warded against fucking everything. in s9 the bunker is presented as this impenetrable fortress, full of decades of lore and weaponry and information, a perfect dream hideout for a hunter. it's the first real chance at safety that sam has ever had but he absolutely cannot trust it. he tried with jess and with amelia but he's just so tired, so scared to care because its inevitable that this will also go up in flames. after everything he's lost? he can't even consider it. he's had this desperate need his entire life but he's so wary and fearful that he can't let himself hope even when the stars align perfectly.

it's terribly tragic. the silent, burning loneliness in sam's character is so well done and it talks to how much sam's been through that he's genuinely accepted that he will never get the luxury of safety or trusting anybody but himself. it really highlights how twisted up he is despite people insisting that he is the 'normal' brother.